by Amy Lane
“You told Leo?”
Xander stood behind him and put his hands on his shoulders, still soft and damp from the shower. They had some moisturizer (Chris called it “man-sturizer”) that smelled like cedar, and Xander liked the smell. He smoothed some on Chriss back now, and along his neck, and over his shoulders.Chris had never really gotten Xanders chest-mane, so he just sort of left his little patch of gold hair alone. Xander liked playing with it, and teasing him about it, and he rubbed it once the bulk of the body lotion was gone.
The tattoo, the one with Xanders name on it, stood out in stark relief with Chriss silver-pale skin, and Xanders fingers traced that pattern, the only public proof of what had privately been a marriage lasting nearly ten years. He was so damned proud of that. The day the two of them had gone to get the tats had felt like their wedding day. Theyd even gone out to dinner afterward, the bandages over their shoulders hidden by the cut of new suits.
Thatday felt far away now, and Xanders fingers tightened on Chriss marked shoulder.
“I told him,” he said softly into the waiting silence.
“Whatd he say?”
Xander rubbed his cheek againstChriss short hair. Maybe he could grow it out now.He didnt have to try to please the bastard anymore, right?
“He said the owners were on the phone, and hed get back to us when they were off.”
Chris shivered, and Xander draped his bigger body completely over his back.“So soon?” he asked, sounding as small in his voice as Xanders embrace made him look in the mirror.
“I dont know how to make it slow down,” Xander said, meaning it. “Its like… we just kept running down the court, and now were in one of those big hamster wheels and its going downhill without us.”
Chris smiled a little, and opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by the blare of the phone. He swallowed.“Ill get it,” he said, interrupting Xander as he turned around.
“I can get it.” The phone rang again.
“No, Xander, Ill get it. Because we both know whatll happen, and Im not going to make you say that to me, okay?”
Before Xander could argue, Chris had brushed past him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, and picked up the phone.“Hey, Leo. Howre they hanging?”
He was quiet after that, and too, too still.“Denver?” he said, and he moved to the closet while he was listening. He started throwing clothes on the bed in a random order—suits, casual, underwear, jeans, a couple of different pairs of shoes. Xander made a strangled sound in his throat and went to the closet to get the luggage. It was his luggage. The set that Chriss parents had given him and had his name and their address on it. They both had better suitcases now, but he wasnt sending Chris away in anything that didnt have his name on it.
Tomorrow morning, he thought painfully. Chris would be gone in the morning.
He was wrong.
He came back with an armload of suitcases, and Chris was sitting on the bed, looking at the handset in his hands. The conversation was obviously over.
“Denver,” he said softly.
“I heard,” Xander said, dropping the luggage and sitting down next to him.
Chris leaned against him, boneless, and for the moment, beaten.
“The plane leaves in three hours.”
“Fuck.”
“Leo called the town car—”
“Ill take you!” God.Wasnt that the least Xander could do?
Chris shook his head, still looking at his hands.“No, baby. I dont want you driving back alone.”
“Fuck that,” Xander whispered. Just like when he was a kid, when he was living in that little apartment, just himself and his couch, he was afraid of voicing anything out loud. If he shouted too loud, his mother would hear him. If he shouted too loud, the authorities would know. Sometimes, when hed been in that room, by himself, huddled under his blanket without heat and trying to sleep, he would bury his face into that old musty couch and scream, just scream and scream and scream, until his throat was raw and hed exhausted any of his fear or his panic or his hunger into the sweaty-breathed, ugly plaid-covered stuffing, and had no choice but to sleep.
He stood up and started to pace, not bearing to look at Chris, hardly bearing to think about him, not there in their bed that night.
“Fuck that,” he said more loudly, stronger. He wasnt that kid anymore.He wasnt. He had some control here, dammit.He wasnt cold, or hungry, or about to disappear.Chris would miss him if he didnt man up. He needed to man up.
“Fuck that!” he shouted, and then something shattered across the far wall. He looked down at his hand, and then looked at the dent that the lotion bottle had made when it had shattered against the gold-painted wall.
“Xander?”
Xander took his concentration from the dent and the scattered lotion and blindly sought Chris, who was still sitting on the bed. “Yeah?”
“You can come in the town car, right?Itll take you home.”
Xander nodded.“But… you….”
He was standing up, across the room, and suddenly, it was like he could see the entire span of the Sierras between them, and the Rockies as well.
Chris started to talk rapidly, maybe to calm him down, or maybe to get it all out, Xander wasnt sure. “You come with me to drop me off. Leo said he was going to call my folks, and then maybe you can all come back here, you know?So you dont have to be alone.”
“And you?” Xander asked, thinking about Chris alone in a hotel room. His stomach started to knot and roil, and he rubbed it uneasily. “Youre going to be alone… I mean, weve done it before, Chris, but… this is until the end of the season.I mean… well have breaks….”
Yeah.Theyd have breaks.
“He cant control what we do during the breaks, right? Weve been quiet, theres no reason for the press to start hounding us now, right? I mean….” Xander looked around frantically, at the little corner of the house where their heart seemed to live.
“Chris, this is your home. How can they make you leave your home?Why didnt they make me leave… why does it have to be you! I can think ofyou here, and its okay, right? Its okay, because your family is here, and theyll take care of you, but whos going to take care of you in Denver? Christ, you remember, we drove across the Rocky Mountains that one summer—those people dont believe in guard rails, Chris—how are they going to take care of you—”
“Shh… sh… sh….”
Suddenly Chris was there, in his arms, rubbing his back, and Xander wrapped his arms around him, making him small, making him fit into Xanders outsized body, and Chris kept shushing him. It was absurd, Xander thought, feeling like he was in that box and the box had been dropped off a cliff. They were grown men, being transferred was part of the business. But as Chris disentangled himself and started to explain that it would be fine, Leo would be there to help him sign papers, and that it was only until the end of the season, and that they would reevaluate their contracts then, Xander came to a very sudden, abrupt realization.
They couldnt be grown-ups if they were faking it. There was a reason for the hoopla and the two people in the center of attention, announcing to the world that they were going to, by golly, be grown-ups for the whole rest of the world to see. There was a reason for the traditions and the music and the flowers and the celebration. There was a reason to make God a witness and to say vows and all that shit that seemed damned silly if you were two men who stood over six feet tall and didnt like attention and just wanted to live your life in peace.
The world didnt know you meant it, unless you made it official.
“I cant do this,” he said into the blue. “I cant just watch you get on a plane and leave our home. I—”
“If you say you quit, Ill knee you in the balls!” Chris growled, the life slamming back into his eyes, his posture, his voice.“Your whole life you worked for this season—”
“To be with you!”
“And its my dream too, dammit!” Chris cried, pulling on his slacks and dashing his hand acros
s his eyes.“You, youre always so generous, giving the whole rest of the world the ball, making the shot for the rest of us, carrying the damned team on your back!Youre a fucking act of God, Xander! And you love what you do.Just once… even if its just this season, and after that we quit the game, tell them all to fuck off and die and were who we want to be, but just once—you have got to be the star. You are not a little boy alone in the box, and the whole world loves you, and you deserve it, dammit, because you and me, we have sacrificed and we have worked and we have earned everything we have here, and you have earned it too!”
“But I wanted it for you too!” And oh, how he had.Hed wanted the two of them together on the court, like two parts of the same engine, because thats when he knew hed never be alone again.
“You want to do something for me?” Chris asked, his voice thick and his face turned away.“You really want to do something for me?”
“Anything!” Xander begged. Anything. He would always do anything for Chris.
“Then you kiss me goodbye at the airport, and keep our home nice for when I can come back, and then… Xander, you go play your heart out, you hear me? You go be a superstar, and you stop feeding your guards the shots that should be yours and you throw this sorry assed team in a sack and toss it on your back and take them to the goal—you get that?You go show the entire world what kind of player theyre going to be kicking to the curb… and then Ill let you quit.”
Xander shook his head, not wanting to hear it.“But its not any fun without you!” he said, aware of how childish he sounded. Chris knew it too. His lips quirked up bitterly, and he shook his head.
“Our adulthood just called on the phone, baby, and fun is not in the plans.Now help me pack, or Im not going to make my signing, and then well be in a whole different world of hurt, okay?”
Players had been denied a contract for being late for a signing. They had friends on the Denver team, Cliff from Chapel Hill, for one, but they were both conscientious players, and the habit of trying to please, of toeing the line and being good boys, was one that wouldnt go away.
They made it through the next two hours, and when the car arrived for the airport, Xander put on a sweatshirt over his jeans and grabbed the luggage. Chris looked up from where he was writing last-minute instructions to Lucia about how to juggle the house, and smiled faintly.
“You never dress up,” he murmured.
“Neither do you!” Xander responded, without thinking. Then he realized that Chris was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt and a sport coat, and he blushed.“You do,” he said, thinking about it now. Chris dressed down when Xander dressed down, but he liked to look good. When had that happened?
“Dont worry about it,” Chris said softly. “Its just… you look good, Xan. You play it down, and you play down your role on the team and… its like youve spent ten years trying to be the invisible six-footnine guy who can carry the team.Youve got to step up, man. Youve got to be important.”
Xander remembered that long ago night, the one when hed been outside in the cold, playing with shaking hands, until an angel had showed up, all brightness and joy, and taken his game to a thing sublime. “I was important to you,” he said, seeing his angel, seeing his love of the game, and feeling like they had both become bigger than that dark night behind them.
Chris shook his head and bent to pat Mercurys placid yellow head and fondle Maxs golden ears. “You guys take care of him,” he told them softly, as they rolled over into a belly-rub invitation like the shameless attention whores they were.“Hes going to need you.”
“Where are you staying?” Xander asked belatedly, letting Chris have his time with their babies.
“While you were out at the car, Cliff called. He heard about the trade and hes got a couple of guest rooms. He said I could put up there until the end of the season.”
Xander grinned for a second.“Bet his wifell lovethat.” They had both stood up with Cliff when hed gotten married to an Amazon with the loveliest ebony skin, a passionate love of ornate golden hoop earrings, and a mouth made for keeping errant men in line. Cliff adored her—but his reputation as the most pussy-whipped man in the league was well earned.
Chris rolled his eyes.“Theres always hotel living, right? Go minibar!”
And Xanders grin faded, just like that.“God, Chris… dont. Man, you do the dishes, you take out the trash—you do whatever you have to, but keep that woman happy.Shell keep you sober, and keep that shit out of the house.”
“You worry too much, baby.” He stood gracefully, and Xander was envious, as always, of a shorter frame and better knees. Then he threaded his hand with Xanders, his own palm warm and soft from petting the dogs, and led Xander outside to the waiting car.
Xander could never remember the car ride, but he remembered the kiss as they pulled up, and the hot, almost desperate taste ofChriss reluctance to leave.
“Stay in the car,” Chris said softly, his dark eyes fathomless in the back of the car.“Ill hug my folks outside, and someone will get in the car with you for the trip back.”
There were a few cameras out there, shining sleepy-bright lights for what was going to be, Xander was sure, a big sports story for the area. (When Coach Meyers had been fired and Coach Wallick hired in his place, theyd run a banner on all the local stations, like a storm warning, for nearly twelve hours.) It was better nobody saw him, Xander knew that, and a knot of bitterness stopped his chest, like the feeling of walking pneumonia hed gotten the year before.
Xander nodded, and then watched, quietly, as Chris got out, angling his body so no one could see the person behind the tinted glass with him. Someone got his luggage from the trunk and suddenly he was hugging his family and waving at the cameras with a “resigned yet cheerful look.” Xander caught his sound bite later, and he sounded so… mature.
“Of course Im disappointed. I grew up here, and Ive loved playing here, but a transfer is the nature of the game, right?And Im sure the owners are doing what they think is best. I mean, if you love the game, theres nothing personal or prejudicial at all in a move like this, right?”
Xander had to admit that it was masterful—Chris at his best, talking a good game, being personal and diplomatic in front of the cameras. But he also caught the undertones—that some prejudices were apparently bigger than the love of the game, and that some people would sacrifice their biggest love for a bigger hate.
The thought that he and Chris were not, at least, defined by that actually served as abalm on Xanders soul. Then the town car door opened, and Penny got in, and Xander thought for a moment that he might not be able to breathe.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly, and Penny launched herself across the seat and into his arms, crying her heart out, and Xander thought that maybe having to comfort her was the best thing to ever happen to his manhood, because it kept him from bawling like a little kid himself.
ESPN NEWS —“Sacramento fans were shocked this morning to learn that one of their most beloved players, Christian Edwards, guard, had been traded to Colorado after lighting up the court last night with his longtime friend and fellow King, Xander Karcek. When asked why the move was made, Edwards simply shrugged, and said, “Its part of the job.”
“HE LOOKSlike this didnt even break his heart,” Penny said the next
morning. Shed spent the night in her guest bedroom in Xanders wing, and was wearing some old jeans and a Kings jersey she kept there. She had sort of a trendy/cool apartment in downtown Sac, Xander knew, but birthday celebrations and family dinners, theyd all seemed to gravitate toward the big house in Folsom. Partly because it was big, and partly because Lucia could cook, and partly because Jed and Andi loved to walk the runningpath when they thought no one noticed theyd slipped away.
Right up until the night before, Xander had thought that it was mostly because Chris was there.He hadnt realized that hed fit into the equation there too.
“Thats because he left his heart here,” Andi said bleakly, and Xander made a sound then and
decided he needed to have his ibuprofen and his Pepto and his run. The dogs were restless—they needed a run.
The family was downstairs, enjoying the pancakes Lucia had cooked without a word because Chris had told her that strawberry pancakes were Xanders favorite. Xander had never told him that they were his favorite because Andi had made them for him his first night living in theEdwardss little house.
“Xander ,dont go,” Andi said, slanting eyes at him but using the same tone of voice shed used to use when she was making Chris finish his homework before going out to shoot the ball.Shed never had to use that voice with Xander. (Xander had gone to live with them on the understanding that keeping his grades up had been a priority.Hed never done anything to jeopardize getting to live at Chriss house.)
“Im going for a run,” he said, his mouth dry, because it might have been the first lie hed ever told her, and telling himself that he was twenty-eight years old did him no goddamned good at all.
“You dont need a run. You have conditioning later. Your knees are already tender from the game, and you know what?Youre a professional goddamned athlete and you can take a day off. Now sit down and finishyour breakfast.”
Xander rubbed his face with his hands and tried to get a handle on the situation.“Andi, Im fi—”
And now he had her full attention.“Dont lie to me, Xander. Youre not fine. You and Chris have been spouting all sorts of bullshit about „nature of the game and „we should have expected this sooner or later but you do not live with someone for what? Twelve years? And then just wake up with them living a thousand miles away and be fine, okay?”
Xander sat down abruptly. Chris was in a strange place, with people who didnt know what hed lost. How fine was he?
“Im gonna go call him,” Xander said roughly now. “Hes usually up by now.” He went to stand up again, and Penny brought him the handset and patted his shoulder, then walked back up the stairs to her own room.
