The Locker Room by Amy Lane Page B

game tape. For some reason, watching game tape was
    different—clinical—like the difference between feeling each other up in
    the stolen darkness or getting their prostates examined by the doctor.
    Either way it was naked, like the whole world got to see a part of them
    they wanted hidden from everyone but each other, but for some reason,
    on the court, no one saw it for what it was.
    The press, in its relentless quest to make men"s basketball the game
    for warriors, had dubbed them “the happiness twins,” and speculation
    The Locker Room
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    abounded on whether the two of them would manage the impossible,
    odds-shattering feat of being recruited by the same team. Xander had
    been courted by an agent already, and he and Chris had agreed on it.
    They would play nowhere if it wasn"t together.
    So Xander knew exactly what Penny was talking about, in spite of
    four years of denial as he and Chris had tried hard not to think about it.
    “No,” he said softly. “We don"t watch the sports shows.”
    Penny took a deep, shuddering breath. “You guys, me, Mom,
    Dad—we may be the only people on earth who know who you are. Who
    you really are, and what you mean to each other. Maybe you should man
    up, tomorrow, and just be who you really are. Because the whole world"s
    going to be watching you, and seeing what they want to see. Wouldn"t it
    be nice to have people who love you for yourselves?”
    Xander had needed to close his eyes then, blocking out the pleasant
    late twilight, magnified off the gray hush of the sea. The terrifying
    blackness of the world beyond the microscope lens was before his eyes,
    and he shivered, just shivered, trying hard not to cry like Penny was,
    until Christian grabbed his hand and said, “Don"t worry, Xander. I"ll tell
    them.”
    “We don"t have to tell them, Chris. All you have to do is give me a
    good-morning kiss at the breakfast table, and they"ll know.”
    Chris sucked in his breath, and then, thank the gods, took Xander"s
    hand to his lips, and said, “Okay. So that"s what we"ll do.”
    And that"s how they did it. Andi and Jed had looked at them,
    smiled a little sadly, and said, “Good morning, boys. What do you want
    to do today?”
    And that had been it. They"d spent the vacation with Chris"s
    parents holding hands on the beach and playing Scrabble and video
    games and touring North Carolina in a rented minivan. They"d managed
    one of the happiest memories of Xander"s entire life.
    And now, as Christian dragged him tippsily into the misty dawn of
    the quiet of the arboreatum, Xander remembered that moment so clearly,
    he could almost feel the clench of Chris"s hand in his as Penny had
    finished speaking.
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    Amy Lane

    “Of course,” he said more loudly now. “How could I forget last
    summer?”
    Chris hauled him to a big tree, and Xander found himself pressed
    up against the side of it, and Chris"s mouth, tasting pleasantly of beer
    and barbecue sandwich, invaded his.
    He opened for Chris, regardless of the risk or the chill in the air,
    regardless of the potential for everything they"d worked for to implode.
    He opened his mouth for Chris because he had to, because Chris was
    bigger than basketball, more important than the court, more important
    than their careers, just more important than anything, and even though
    he"d started to be their voice in the interviews, the public face of the
    team, he just didn"t know how to say that anyway at all to the person
    who needed to hear it.
    So he opened his mouth and let his lover in. He let Christian
    Edwards, the most beautiful man he"d ever known, go down on his knees
    and pull Xander"s hardened cock into his mouth, and worship him in the
    misty North Carolina dawn, because who they were to the world had
    become so much bigger than they felt, and who they were to each other
    was so much more than words.

    THE NBA draft was a blur, a terrible, frightening blur of flashbulbs and
    sound bites and uncomfortable suits and people talking