The Locker Room

by Amy Lane

  Xander smiled appreciatively, although he didnt really notice girls—had, in fact, really only noticed Christian—and Andi sat them down and started asking questions about his foster home.

  Xander answered honestly. He told them about the bed that was too small, and the three other roommates. He left off that two of the roommates had noisy sex in the bathrooms, but did tell them that his belongings were still, as always, all in a plastic garbage bag.

  Andi and Jed met eyes, and Andi nodded her head. Jed sighed, and agreed.

  “Look, Xander, when do you turn sixteen?”

  Xander had to think about that. When he was a kid he remembered birthday parties, before his mom and the drugs had become inseparable. Then he remembered the paperwork that had been filled out for him as hed entered the home. “April seventeenth,” he said, hoping that was right.

  “Do you think youd like to move in with us then? You can be an emancipated minor—we checked with your coach. Do you think maybe that would be okay?”

  Xander almost jumped on the chance. He did. He looked at Chris, whose face was shining with hope, and then he licked his lips.

  Chriss taste was still there.

  Oh God.He couldnt… they couldnt… it would be wrong. It just would. His face fell, and Chris looked at him in confusion, and he said softly, “Ill have to think about it. But it means the world that youd ask.”

  At that moment, Penny came out of the bathroom. Her voice was rough but loud and overbright when she said “Whats up?”

  “Were trying to talk Xander into moving in with us!” Andi said, apparently not bothered by the suddenly awkward silence.

  Pennys look could only be described as “stricken.” “Moving in?” she asked in a weak voice, and Xander shook his head, looking surreptitiously at Christian.

  “Well see,” he said cautiously. “I… I dont want to impose. Im… Im not used to family. I may not be good at it.”

  Penny closed her eyes and swallowed, then looked up brightly. “Were a good family, Xander. Ithink youd be okay here.”

  Years later he would remember her face. Her eyes had been a little swollen and very bright, but they had been clear and accepting, and shed been looking at him with sympathy and kindness.It wasnt until he was a grown man thathe realized that shed been crying.

  “ YOUdont want to live with my family?” Christian asked, his voice choked and surly. They were walking to school, after Xander ate a stack of pancakes that might stay with him all day. He was hoping so—the warmth ofhis reception in Christians parents home would stay with him a lot longer.

  “Your familys great,” Xander murmured. Absurdly, he wished he could takeChriss hand as they walked down the residential road, but there were too many kids on their own wanders to school.

  “So why hesitate?” Chris backed up and looked at him, all of his unhappiness written clear as day across his face. That was Christian, open and transparent as a bay window over the ocean.

  Xander looked away, then back into that open face. He knew his own expression was closed and guarded, but he couldnt help it. These were difficult, complex thoughts, and he had a simple mouth.

  “I want to kiss you,” he whispered, and Christians eyes widened. “Here?”

  Xander shook his head, frustrated with himself. When he was an

  adult, hed be better at this. He knew he would be.

  “In general, genius! I just—” He grimaced.“It would be wrong. It

  would be… like taking advantage of them. Your folks.Theyre the nicest

  people, you know?I dont want to… you know. Betray their trust or anything. That would be—” He pulled in a big gust of air. “Wrong,” Chris conceded, and Xander smiled at him with such terrible relief.

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe,” Chris said, looking fitfully at the concrete at his feet.

  “Maybe you could stil l live with us. The kissing—we could do that not at home.We wouldnt have a lot of time to do it, right? But, well, wed be together.My folks would get you a dresser.” His voice sank to a whisper, and he looked down at his shoes as he turned back to be shoulder to shoulder with Xander.“You wouldnt have to live out of a garbage bag.”

  Xander sighed. “Garbage bags arent a big deal,” he said, meaning it.

  Chris looked around surreptitiously, and then hegrabbed Xanders hand.“They are when thats your world,” he said, sounding wise. “Maybe you and me, well be slow, and in nooks and crannies and places. Because—” They heard chatter coming up the walk from a side street, and Chris dropped his hand.“Because Id rather you be safe, and have a home, Xander. If that means we gotta wait until college, then thats what it means, okay?”

  It was a little sound, almost a whimper, but Chris looked at him sideways, practically in triumph, and that was when Xander knew hed lost.

  “Someday,” he said gruffly. “Someday, were gonna have a big house, and itll be you and me. No one has to know what we do there, but well be a family, right? You and me?”

  Chris met his eyes, and Xander fell into them.“Thats a deal, Xan. You and me.”

  Free At Last

  WHEN Xander remembered high school as an adult, he would invariably remember two things: his time on the court, with the entire community screaming for the both of them as they worked, bloodied, and pounded their way into magic by sweat, and tiny corners of time with him and Christian, alone and protected and insulated from the world.

  Xander did move into Christians parents house when he turned sixteen, and he took up residence on their couch. He and Christian would sit next to each other and watch television, or eat breakfast or brush their teeth, terribly conscious of the one moral imperative that they had set themselves:

  They. Must. Not. Touch.

  They would walk to or from school, chatting about teachers and Coach, or the injustice (or their own supremacy) of the last game, and sometimes Xander wondered how the world couldnt know that they should be holding hands, because their muscles, skin, and bone were practically screaming the truth:

  They. Must. Not. Touch.

  On the court, it was different. On the court they could high five, lowfive, pat each others bottoms, bump each others hips, and that was okay. One giddy night when they were juniors, as their team took State, and the crowd surged onto the floor, Xander reached over Christians shoulders and engulfed him in a terrific bear hug. Only Xander and Chris knew that Xander had nuzzled through that thick gold hair and kissed the shell of Christians ear through the sweat of the game. And that was okay, no one noticed that.

  On the court, they could touch.

  That night, the rest of the team managed to start their showers first. By the time the crowd let Xander and Chris into the locker room, everyone else was on their way out, and Coach, needed at a press conference (which they could tell pleased him no end), locked the doors and told them just to make sure everything was shut before they left.

  They nodded and stripped off, both of them stepping into the spray gratefully, because they had both soaked through their jerseys during the game.

  Xander wasnt exactly sure when it occurred to him that he and Christian were alone and naked and clean.Hed just finished soaping his hair for the second time, and then rinsing, and he wiped off his eyes and saw Christian, staring at him.

  The two of them had avoided looking at each other personally. Hell, they had avoided looking at everyone personally. They might be gay, but that didnt mean they spent their time gawking at the other boys on the team.That felt like an abuse of trust, somehow, and they couldnt do it.

  But here they were, giddy from victory, happy, thank-the-gods clean, and, well, naked.

  They simply stared for a few moments, completely taken aback. Xander began to focus on details then—Christians taut stomach, his tight, wiry frame. Christian was six feet tall by now, and looking like he might possibly grow another inch, but Xander was six foot five, and definitely not finished growing. Christian was all tight, small muscles, a rippled stomach, pale skin.Xande
r couldnt stop looking at him. Chris was… pretty. Beautiful.

  Xander didnt want to think about what his own body looked like. Freakishly tall, deathly white, a small mat of dark chest hair already taking up residence between his pecs—not beautiful. Not Chris.

  But Chris was looking at him like he was something special, and he managed a shy smile. He looked down Chriss body and raised his eyebrows at Chriss private area, drooping large and soggy in a nest of curly blond hair.

  Chriss grin turned cocky then, and he gave a little shrug and a swaggering thrust with his hips that could only be called “adorable.” Xander laughed then, and Chris, again without talking, reached down bravely, seized his cock in his fist and stroked once, twice, three times. His head tilted back, and his eyes closed, and Xander watched, openmouthed, as that thing grew, doubled in size, became plump and thick and long and huge.

  He wanted to touch it, but… but they were exposed, in the middle of the locker room, and discovery—by anybody—would be disastrous.

  He kept an eye out, his ears open, but he moved in behind Chris, pulled him back, supported Chris against his naked body. Chris would be safe in his arms.

  Chris had been loved all his life, protected all his life. He relaxed easily into Xanders embrace, and started making breathy little moans as he pleasured himself. Xander studied his profile, liking the way his mouth tightened, the way he worried his lower lip with his teeth. He wanted to close his eyes and bury his face in the hollow ofChriss neck, but he didnt dare. It was his job to watch out for them. It was his job to keep them safe.

  It was almost over anyway. Chris had been quiet so far, keeping his noises to himself, but suddenly the sound of his fist smacking in the wet of the soap and water got loud, and he shuddered in Xanders arms. He groaned harshly, and Xander watched, transfixed, as his come shot out, mixing with the water pounding on them and running down the drain.

  They stood there, panting for a moment, and then a sound, probably nothing, from outside made Xander stiffen. They separated quickly, their naked skin peeling apart with reluctance, and both of them turned toward the wall and started rinsing their hair as some sort of cover.

  In a minute, when it looked like nobody was coming, they breathed out a sigh of relief. Xander tilted his head and threw the water out of his eyes, and Chris grinned at him, that same cocky grin, but this time sleepy and sated and proud.

  “Next time, its your turn,” he said, giving Xander a meaningful look at his privates. Xander blushed and nodded, and wondered at the feeling of reluctance that trammeled up his words. That would be the natural progression of things, wouldnt it? And it wasnt as though he didnt want to. Chris had felt wonderful in his arms, skin to skin. But hed also been helpless, defenseless against the world in the height of his passion, and Xander….

  Xander didnt have a lot of good experiences being helpless, did he?Hed been helpless against hunger, helpless against beatings, helpless against neglect.He… oh God. He loved Chris.He didnt want to be helpless with him.

  But Chris was looking a little worried now, and Xander wondered if maybe it wouldnt be better to be helpless in Chriss arms than strong out of them, so he smiled shyly and said, “Yeah. Like well ever get a chance like this again, right?”

  Chris laughed, the sound resigned, and rolled his eyes as he shut off his shower.“Graduations not that far off,” he said philosophically. “You know, pretty soon well be dorm mates, and every college movie Ive ever seen says that we get to hump like bunnies!”

  That made Xander grin for real, because he and Chris had stayed up late all summer, watching every movie about college they could get their hands on, looking at each other from the corner of their eyes and hoping with everything they had that it might be true.

  “Do bunnies hump a lot?” Xander asked now, knowing that maybe the one person in the world he could joke with was Chris. The two of them moved to their lockers, grabbing towels from the barrier and wrapping them around their waists.Xanders erection, rampant and painful when Chris had been in his arms, had since withered. It was almost like they really were brothers in truth now, and Xander was relieved. He had a place in his brain that would do that, and it was easier that way, because he already felt like a walking hard-on for the guy.

  “I plan on finding out,” Chris said, with a waggle of his eyebrows, and Xander laughed in agreement. A year and a half. They had a year and a half until graduation, and they would probably have maybe half a dozen opportunities like this one. Maybe, by the time they could actually sleep together, like grown-ups, he would have learned to trust, and Chris might never have to know how very scared it made him to think about laying back in his Chriss arms and giving himself over to love.

  Xander trusted on the court—that was for damned sure.

  Running the boards, he knew Chris would be there for the bounce pass, with the defense, to catch the rebound or return the lost alley-oop. Xander Karcek was the superstar, and he hated it, but even the papers and the colleges acknowledged that he wouldnt have been who he was without Christian Edwards.

  He loved that.

  IT DIDNT take much nudging for the two of them to get offers from the

  same school. It was out of state, which was exciting for Chris and not a problem for Xander. Neither of them had ever been to North Carolina, and their odds of being recruited by a pro team doubled when they went there, as opposed to someplace local. (They both deplored Los Angeles, so UCLA was right out.) By the time their junior year ended, UNC had them both in its sights: Xander would get a free ride, and Chris would get tuition and books. His parents had enough saved to set him up in the dorms for a year or two, and in the summer before his senior year, Chris went to work right next to Xander, to ensure that as long as they could play the game, the two of them could stay side by side, the way God intended.

  Working together was almost like playing ball. Chris would do window in the late nights, and chat up all the customers. Xander would work assiduously in the back, making sure they could leave on time, or even early, as soon as they closed, so that he and Chris could take ten minutes, even fifteen, downstairs in the changing room to kiss, to hold hands.To lean into each other, and talk tenderly of the things theyd seen.Xander didnt have much to model this behavior after, but Chris did, and Xander had seen it.Chriss parents sat together on the couch, Andi between Jeds legs and leaning on his chest, and watched movies, spoke quietly about their day, told stories about the kids, Xander included.

  Later, when Chris and Penny had gone upstairs and Xander was stretched out on the hide-a-bed (his feet fell over the edge), Xander could hear their voices, still talking.Hed heard tense conversations, sure, but never screaming. Never yelling. Never unkind words. Not once, in his entire two-and-a-half years in their care, did he hear one of them call the other a “useless cocksucker” or a “fucking twat.” To Xander, all of that other kindness, the whispered giggles, the furtive (and mortifying) sounds of lovemaking that came from their closed doors, came from those stolen moments on the couch, when they got to touch.

  He and Chris did their best to capture that. Without talking about it, they used the Edwardss as a relationship manual, and did their homework as often as time allowed. The feeling of Chris, snugged up against his chest, talking about their calculus teacher, was all that Xander asked of heaven—and that would hold true even if Chris didnt make him crack up with every story. (Apparently the poor lady was an unintentional laugh riot. Chris swore hed never seen a woman trip over quite so many things in a ten-minute lecture.“And its not like any of that shit moves, Xan. She just gets so excited about math, of all things, that she forgets its there all over again.”)

  But Xanders body was getting “itchy .” In their junior year, he could watch Chris undress and think of him platonically, or even not at all. By the end of their senior year, Xander was putting off showering with Chris when they were in a crowd.

  “Dude,” he muttered unhappily, “its like youre a walking boner pill. I see you naked and my
whole bodygoes on virgin alert!”

  “Which one of us is that pinging for?” Chris asked coyly, kissing the corner of his jaw as they sat at the employee picnic table at work. “Because, you know, mine is going full time too!”

  “Double the virgin, double the ping,” Xander said, smirking, and then Chris kissed him until the smirk went away and only the “pinging” survived.Then Xanders actual timer went off, and the two of them sighed. Time to go upstairs and wait for Jed or Andi. The boys had gone back and forth over the wisdom of buying their own car, but at the moment, they figured theyd use public transportation in NC and deal with what they had in Cali. Xander appreciated Mr. and Mrs. Edwards looking out for them, he really did, but hed already established one more requirement in his list of “grown-upshit” that he wanted for himself and Christian. He had it firmly locked down in his head:

  College degree: check

  Well-paying job: check

  House that no one could take away from him ever: check Car: check

  Safety, and no chance that anyone would scream at him or beat him or terrify him with their neglect: check Christian, his and in his arms forever: Absolutely. The first and last thing on his checklist. The absolute only thing he could never live without.

  Basketball: A requirement as well.

  He figured that, since Christian and basketball went hand in hand, that was one thing he didnt have to worry about, right? THEY lost their virginity to each other the summer between high school and college, when Christians parents took Penny to visit Chriss grandparents.Chris had been planning to go with them, but then Andis parents had showed up for graduation, and given him a car as a combination graduation/eighteenth-birthday present, and then told Chris to enjoy. Chris had taken themat their word (and had, with Xanders help, written the mother of all thank-you letters, because he was a good boy and that was only good manners) and begged off the trip.