by Amy Lane
They managed to make love one more time before they fell asleep.
WHEN Xander woke up he was sitting up in bed, and Chriss arms were wrapped around his chest, and he was screaming into his bitten palm. He caught his breath, and Chris pulled him back down onto the bed, holding his big body while it shook the dream out. When his breathing had gotten close to evened out, Chris propped himself up on one elbow and stroked the sides of his face.
“Jesus, Xan—theyre getting worse. I mean… fuck. They were getting better before I left, but that… I thought I was going to have to tackle you to keep you from going through the wall!”
Xan bounced his head off the pillow and blew out a stillshuddering breath, and then turned to look at Chris in the darkness. He was so beautiful. His eyes were so big and expressive, and his narrowchinned, pretty face was practically luminous in the minimum light that seeped through the curtains. Xander walked careful fingers around the line of his hair and over the shell of his ear, each tap of fingertip to skin a miracle of touch.
“Christian, did you really think we could see each other mostly every day for the last… what? Twelve, almost thirteen years, right? And then you go away, and did you think it wasnt going to leave a big hole in my soul?” His voice cracked.“Thats the place where I fight the scary monsters, man, and now its all bleeding because youre not next to me every night, telling me theyre all better.”
Chris sighed, and tucked his head on Xanders shoulder, taking that wandering hand in his own and threading shaking fingers through it.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah. Christ, I need a drink.”
And now it was Xanders turn to sigh. “No,you dont.”
“You think youre the only one with a big „hole in your soul, Xan?”
Xander wrapped his arm aroundChriss shoulders and held tight.“I think we cant do this more than one year,” he said. “Eventually, were going to have to decide how we want to handle this.Because I cant do it without you, and Im afraid for you without me, and if I need to be the wife and quit my job and follow you—”
Chris pulled back and (awkwardly, from his angle) socked Xander in the arm.
“Stop trying to throw your gift away, you dumb bastard. If either of us is going to be the wife, its going to be me!”
In spite of himself, Xander grinned.“Does that mean I can come home from work and find you wearing an apron and nothing else?”
Chris chuckled weakly against him.“You perv. You should have told me that was your thing beforeyou filled the house with women.”
Their laughter was short-lived, though.“I dont want you to have to quit,” Xander said softly. “Its not fair.”
“I dont want you to have to scream in the middle of the night,” Chris said quietly back.“Its not fair, either, and right now, it seems so much more important than me getting one more season somewhere else. But you—Xander, Ive been watching you play. Youre a machine— youre terrifying. Dont shut that down. Please? I love this game, and one of the things I love about it is how beautiful you are when you play. If I quit, theres another rookie ready to learn about Scotch and airline food.If you quit, theres a hole in the world. Please? Just promise me you wont quit. It would break my heart.”
Xander swallowed hard.“Ill do anything not to break your heart,” he said, and Chris nodded against him. There was a damp spot between his cheek and Xanders shoulder, stinging and uncomfortable with salt, but they were both tired of acknowledging the pain.
THE west coast team won the All-Star Game that year. Chris won the most free throws in a row, Xander took the three-point shot contest, and Chriss rookie managed a dunk that took Xanders breath away.
“Hes going to be amazing,” he muttered to Chris, delighted to see someone that graceful, that gifted, do his thing with that much passion.
Chriss lips twisted.“If he lives that long. You see how he comes down?”
And he did. He came down fearlessly, but he left himself a lot of room to get hurt, and Xander had to acknowledge that he was going to have to learn a little self-preservation or his career was going to be damned short.
That night, the night after the various games and before the matchup itself, as they were undressing for bed (a little more sedate and dignified than the night before, although they were both trembling, just from seeing the other take off layer by layer of their casual dinner clothes) Xander asked Chris why he and Chris had never played with that much fearlessness.
Chris had looked at him, dark eyes sad, but with a twist at his lips that said he could laugh about this a little, too, and folded his slacks so theyd hang neatly over the chair by the little desk. “You and me, Xan, we always had something to lose.”
Xan swallowed.“You cant ever lose me, you know that?”
Chris shrugged, hooking his thumbs in his boxers and giving a little shimmy that made his already burgeoning equipment waggle, and made Xander laugh.“Dude, youre like, the size of a building!”
Xander grinned full out, and walked, naked, to where his lover stood, grinning at him, and playing like the boy he might always be.“So are you when youre hard! I think we may have a—” He reached down his hand and squeezed.“Handle on each other.”
Chris smirked, and then his expression darkened, and that pretty mouth pursed into a little boys sadness. “I want to touch you forever, Xander.You cant ever lose me either, right?”
Chriss arms came around his shoulders, and he pressed a kiss against Xanders mouth that was more like benediction than it was like passion. Xander opened his mouth and bent his knees so that their chests were flat up together, and Chris kissed him until the sadness was gone.
THE next night, the All-Star Game, was their night on the court. San Antonio was the team with the best record for the year, and Xander and Chris got along with their Coach Hopkins just fine. For his part, Hopkins was thrilled to coach them. Xander, he said, was the meat player, and Edwards was there to showboat, and together they read each others cues like every move down court was choreographed, rehearsed, and set to music.
Ch riss rookie was thrilled. Yeah, he was a rookie, but Chris wouldnt have hung out with him if he didnt have a good heart, and you had to love a guy who shouted encouragement and joy down the court as they made that place their own.
They had a formidable lead after just the first quarter, so the bench got to play nearly half the game. As they sat on the sidelines for the whole third quarter and watched the show, Xander confessed quietly to Chris that he was relieved.“My foots still sore,and I didnt get much sleep last night,” he murmured. Chris waggled his eyebrows in a playful response, while watching the action on the court. A flashbulb went off, and just like that, Chriss pretty face was the All-Star icon. He was everything the All-Stars represented—fun, sportsmanship, fantastic skill—all that in a pretty face with a wicked grin, and that picture was on every sports page in the country.
Xander would put it up on the wall by their bed, and remember that moment, locked in time like a colorful flaw inside a crystal. When the game was over, and it was all whooping and screaming, patting each other on the back, group hugs and high fives, Xander remembered that expression. They went out and partied with the players that night, and left somewhere in the middle, spacing their intervals.
They made love until Chris had to leave for the airport, without sleeping at all.
AfterChris had left, wearing wrinkled jeans and Xanders sweat and seed on his skin, Xander flopped back onto the bed and looked miserably at the clock. He had two hours before he had to leave, and all he could do was remember the feeling ofChriss hands skimming his face as they kissed.
June, he repeated to himself. June. We can do this until June. June.
It seemed a thousand years away.
Under the Influence
XANDERS foot completely healed in the next week, and he played like
a fucking god.
All of the sports pages said so, which was one of the reasons
Xander was glad he and Chris had neve
r gotten into the habit of reading
them.
All he knew was that, on the court? The world was perfect. People were where he expected them to be, and the ball went through the net. That was really the be all and end all right there, wasnt it? The ball went through the net. Such a simple goal. Nothing complex. The roar of the crowd, the strain of muscles, the smell of sweat? Trivial. All that mattered was that the ball went through the net.
On the court, Xander was happy and free. He wasnt a showboat, not like Chris, but since Chris wasnt there, he started to let his joy show to the rest of the team. He started to urge the whole team on, to shout out orders when he was on the sideline, to rule the court with that one simple desire: get the ball through the net.
Chris would tell him over the computer that it was beautiful to watch. Leo would tell him that he needed to think about next season. Penny would glower at him and ask him if any of this would change if he came out. The press would tell him that he was a bona fide superstar.
Xander ignored Leo and Penny, and he really ignored the press, but he listened to Chris, because hed always listened for Chris, and told him the truth.
“If Im beautiful, Im beautiful for you.” Chris got embarrassed with too much praise, and Xander could see the blush over the computer screen. He loved it when Chris blushed.
One night in late March, after returning home from a painful loss to Chicago, Xander was awakened by cool, masculine hands rubbing the knot between his shoulders. He rolled over and into Chriss touch with a terrible groan, capturing Chris in an all-consuming embrace, and Chris went willingly, yielded willingly, became six feet three inches, one hundred and eightypounds of pliant muscle in Xanders arms, and Xander devoured him.
The kiss didnt end until they were both naked, sweating, and covered in come, and even then the small kisses, small touches, little murmurs of “Oh God,” and “Wow,” and “Mmmm” kept going until their breathing evened out and Chris was mostly asleep, tucked in against his shoulder.
“Hey, Xander,” he mumbled, even as Xander was following him into quiet darkness.
“Mmmmm?”
“When you gonna stop feeding those bozos shots when they cant get their dicks into their fists, much less the ball into the net?”
Xander chuckled softly.“When the coach stops telling them that if „a faggot like Karcek can do it, they can too.”
Chris woke up suddenly, rolling over and looking at Xander with eyes that got suddenly shiny in the dark.“Thats not funny.”
“Shhh…,” Xander soothed. “No, its not, but I bet you no one on the team is laughing,either.”
Chris did settle down, this time facing Xander, but still tucked on his shoulder.“You did it to teach them a lesson?” he asked, his voice tinged with a sort of happy awe.
Xander shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with how Machiavellian that sounded.“I just got tired of it, you know? He keeps yelling at me like I dont matter, but Im sort of important to the damned team. Were still in first place in the west coast conference, Chicagos still in last in the east. I just thought Id maybe show that fucker what this team could be like if I didnt pitch in.”
Chriss sleepy grin was all of the affirmation he needed.“Thats good, Xan.Its about time you stood up for yourself.”
Xander sighed, the ache of missing him—even for just these last two weeks—suddenly assaulting his chest all over again, except this time in one big wave, instead of in little tiny pieces.
“Maybe I should have stood up for us sooner,” he whispered, thinking of all of those horrible third home game of the months.
“Maybe I should have too,” Chris confessed into his chest, and Xander sighed.
“I think were both… you know. Learning how to grow up.Its weird when we only have ourselves to look at, you know?”
Chris laughed and yawned and said, “Ill tell you what I know. I know my ass is stillbeing kicked by San Antonio, and its time for me to sleep before I fuel up for more sex.Thats what I know.”
Xander laughed quietly too. God, he missed the way Chris could do that to him—make him laugh, even when shit really sucked.“I love you, Christian.”
“I love you too, Xander. Go to sleep, baby.Weve got four days together.Itll be good.”
And it was.
Xander had to drag him down to breakfast the next morning, where the two of them were met with assorted hoots and hollers from the assembled women. (Lucia too.Shed started taking her coffee with their roommates instead of People magazine, and Xander told her that he was glad her taste had improved.)
She got up to make a place for Chris, though, and dished him up some scrambled eggs and sausage, which he dug into with a satisfied groan.
“Lucia, darling, you are an angel of light,” he murmured, giving her a buss on the cheek and a little squeeze around the waist.
Lucia blushed and waved him off, and Chris continued to eat, but Xander could tell he was getting a little glassy-eyed from the conversation around them.
“So how long you here for?” Mandy was asking, picking her way through grapefruit and coffee, like she always did.
“Four days,” Chris mumbled, and he was met with that adorable, full-lipped moue of disappointment.
“Thatstoo bad,” she mumbled, slurping her grapefruit. “Xander misses the shit out of you.”
Xander watched Chris blush.“Um….”
“Nice,” said Penny caustically. “By all means bring up „shit at the breakfast table.”
“Hey, shes not the one who just chewed out the gardener for not cleaning up the dog shit,” Audrey defended, and Xander choked on his juice.
“You chewed out the gardener? Hes a nice guy!”
“Hes a leech, Xander. I could do a better job on the rose bushes with nail scissors and a steak knife. You just go and let people take advantage of you—”
“I dont even know if dog shit is in his contract!” Xander complained again, and Chris interrupted him.
“It is,” Chris told him, through a full mouth. “I wrote it in. Dammit, Xan, Pennys right. I could see it in the dark, the grounds look like shit.”
“Well,his wife just had a baby, and hes not getting a lot of sleep. He wants to bring in his nephew to help, but I dont know. I dont know if he knows… or you know.I didnt want to have him sign the contract without Chris or Leo to look it over, and Ive sort of been out on the road, right?”
Xander paused, in the middle of bringing a bite of scrambled eggs up to his mouth.“What?”
“Xander,” Audrey said quietly into the silence, “you dont talk that much to us.”
Xander flushed.“Well, he did all the talking. It… you know. Its nice to hear about someone else.Except, we cant fire him, right?”
He turned to Chris in supplication, and Chris was blinking at him, hard.
“Yeah, Xan. Right. No firing the gardener.Ill draw up papers for his nephew this afternoon, kay?”
Xander brightened, unsure of why the world had stopped because he knew the gardeners backstory, but willing to take Chris on faith. Then Chris wiped his mouth carefully, grabbed Xanders face in both hands, and kissed him soundly, scrambled eggs and all. There was a collective “Awwwww…” from around the table, but Xander didnt really hear that. All he knew was that Chris was there, and something about him had pleased his lover, and all of that desire, as hot and bright as it had been in high school was there, exposed on his skin, for the world to see.
As he fell into the kiss, became stupid and hazy with it, tasted, smelled, touched, heard only Chris, saw only Chris behind his closed eyes, he had the dim thought that it was wonderful that a small part of the world seemed to approve.
The kiss ended, and Xander carefully didnt look around the table. Conversation resumed again around him, but this time with Chris as an integral part of it. Xander liked hearing him fitting in with the little table of women. As foolish as it sounded, he was hoping that however this was settled, whatever they decided to do at the end of the season, they could keep
the girls around until the girls themselves needed to go. He was charmed by them—Mandys vivacity, Audreys quiet humor, even Pennys biting sarcasm—they made him remember the first wonder hed felt when he woke up at the Edwardss home, and heard Andi up and making breakfast.
Leo came by the next day, just to hang out and watch the college games and bitch about the new roster. (He was mostly bitching to hear his own voice. Chris and Xander were watching a promising bunch of rookies-to-be, and enjoying their grace and their power, and, according to Chris, “their goddamned indestructible youth!”)
They went running with the dogs every morning, although “stumbling” might have been a more accurate term. Neither of the dogs were particularly willing to let Chris out of their sight, and Chris had to fight falling over for most of the run. Xander literally had a stomach cramp from laughing while listening to him whine at them.
“Cmon, Max… man, just… just move! Dammit, just fucking… get out of the way.Merc… Merc… aw, fuck it all, Mercury, would you get down?”
“Well!” Xander giggled as they were coming inside the third morning.“They miss you! Youve babied them their whole life! Do you think you just disappear and theyre not going to be all over you?”
Xander punctuated that with hands on Chriss hips and a pull back into what felt like his perma-hard-on, since Chris had come back into their bed.
Chris groaned, leaning into Xanders bigger body, into his encompassing shoulders and his long, long arms.“I like it that youre all over me,” he moaned softly, and he and Xander went up into the bedroom and didnt come down until their run early the next morning.
Chris had a ten oclock flight out.
He had his first shot of vodka in his orange juice with breakfast. He had his second (when Xander wasnt looking) after the girls had all gone about their day and they lingered over their croissants. Xander got up to go let the dogs in, and he came back to seeChriss glass taller, and the orange juice thinner, and the tell-tale smell stronger than ever.