Free The Locker Room by Amy Lane
Authors: Amy Lane
Chris had
washed all his sheets and his comforter and his pillowcases.
Twice.
And Xander"s too.
By strict “penetrative” standards, both of them were still virgins
then, but by the standard that mattered—that they were both willing to
put their bodies into the other"s hand and expect tenderness, passion, and
pleasure—they had a lifetime"s foundation of experience, and they used
it as often that summer as they possibly could. They started driving to the
foothills in the dark hours after work, to find a corner of the world where
they could make out and not be recognized if they got caught. (Chris
joked that summer that he was spending half his check on car fresheners,
a crack that never failed to make Xander blush until Chris had to kiss
him senseless.)
Finally, in August, they packed up the Toyota with bedding and
clothes, and Xander"s graduation gift from Andi and Jed, a complete set
of luggage.
“We know you"ll be leaving, sweetie,” Andi had said then, tearing
up because that"s what she did, “but you need to know that you"ll always
have a home with us. You never have to live out of a garbage bag again,
okay?”
Xander had nodded, speechless, and hugged her, and he hugged her
the same way as they were leaving. He had seen his mother, on occasion,
as she wandered through the neighborhood, high, or drunk, often with a
different man shouting at her to hurry. He could barely remember a time
when he had felt anything for her but fear and disgust. One night, not
long after he"d come to live with Chris"s family, Andi had heard him
crying, and when she"d sat by the head of the couch and stroked back his
hair, she asked him why.
I"m a terrible person. I don"t deserve to be here.
You"re a sweet boy. Tell me what you think you"ve done wrong.
The Locker Room
49
Shouldn"t I at least miss her? She was a good mom, once. She used
to feed me and stuff.
Andi"s hands had stilled on his hair. She deserted you, Xander. The
part that you should miss, she died, and you"ve mourned her and lived
without her. The part that"s left, that part doesn"t know you, and you
have the right to walk away.
The luggage had the Edwards"s family address printed on it. The
message was clear. He and Chris might have been going away, but he
wasn"t walking away. He had a home. He had a family. And Andi was
right. He wasn"t going to live out of a garbage bag ever again.
Both of them had been hugged fiercely by Andi, and Jed, and even
by Penny. Penny, who had grown to five ten in her sophomore year in
high school, stood on her tiptoes and kissed Xander, on the cheek this
time. “I love you like a brother,” she whispered, and Xander wondered
why she"d had to say that. What other way would she love him?
They drove over four hundred and fifty miles down the California
coast that day, and they had just made it to the beach at Carlsbad and
checked into a hotel there, when Christian had produced lubricant and a
porn video on his laptop that gave step-by-step instructions.
Xander topped first.
Christian squatted patiently on his hands and knees, holding the
thick sheets of the hotel bed in his fists, while Xander kissed down the
smooth bumps of his spine, the vulnerable curve of his shoulders, the
slight indentation of his long waist. Chris started trembling when Xander
got to the muscular plane of his backside, and Xander gave a playful
nibble at where Chris"s ass met his inner thigh and disappeared into the
secret hollow where all good things were possible.
Chris made a hissing sound and groaned into the pillow. “You, uh,
gonna touch my asshole anytime, Xan? Kinda dying here.”
Xander laughed helplessly—Chris could do that to him. He reached
under Chris"s body and gripped him, stroking slow and strong, which
was how Chris liked it. Chris moaned and grunted and thrust his hips in
rhythm, and Xander fumbled with the lube tube with his other hand. He
managed to spill some down the crack of
washed all his sheets and his comforter and his pillowcases.
Twice.
And Xander"s too.
By strict “penetrative” standards, both of them were still virgins
then, but by the standard that mattered—that they were both willing to
put their bodies into the other"s hand and expect tenderness, passion, and
pleasure—they had a lifetime"s foundation of experience, and they used
it as often that summer as they possibly could. They started driving to the
foothills in the dark hours after work, to find a corner of the world where
they could make out and not be recognized if they got caught. (Chris
joked that summer that he was spending half his check on car fresheners,
a crack that never failed to make Xander blush until Chris had to kiss
him senseless.)
Finally, in August, they packed up the Toyota with bedding and
clothes, and Xander"s graduation gift from Andi and Jed, a complete set
of luggage.
“We know you"ll be leaving, sweetie,” Andi had said then, tearing
up because that"s what she did, “but you need to know that you"ll always
have a home with us. You never have to live out of a garbage bag again,
okay?”
Xander had nodded, speechless, and hugged her, and he hugged her
the same way as they were leaving. He had seen his mother, on occasion,
as she wandered through the neighborhood, high, or drunk, often with a
different man shouting at her to hurry. He could barely remember a time
when he had felt anything for her but fear and disgust. One night, not
long after he"d come to live with Chris"s family, Andi had heard him
crying, and when she"d sat by the head of the couch and stroked back his
hair, she asked him why.
I"m a terrible person. I don"t deserve to be here.
You"re a sweet boy. Tell me what you think you"ve done wrong.
The Locker Room
49
Shouldn"t I at least miss her? She was a good mom, once. She used
to feed me and stuff.
Andi"s hands had stilled on his hair. She deserted you, Xander. The
part that you should miss, she died, and you"ve mourned her and lived
without her. The part that"s left, that part doesn"t know you, and you
have the right to walk away.
The luggage had the Edwards"s family address printed on it. The
message was clear. He and Chris might have been going away, but he
wasn"t walking away. He had a home. He had a family. And Andi was
right. He wasn"t going to live out of a garbage bag ever again.
Both of them had been hugged fiercely by Andi, and Jed, and even
by Penny. Penny, who had grown to five ten in her sophomore year in
high school, stood on her tiptoes and kissed Xander, on the cheek this
time. “I love you like a brother,” she whispered, and Xander wondered
why she"d had to say that. What other way would she love him?
They drove over four hundred and fifty miles down the California
coast that day, and they had just made it to the beach at Carlsbad and
checked into a hotel there, when Christian had produced lubricant and a
porn video on his laptop that gave step-by-step instructions.
Xander topped first.
Christian squatted patiently on his hands and knees, holding the
thick sheets of the hotel bed in his fists, while Xander kissed down the
smooth bumps of his spine, the vulnerable curve of his shoulders, the
slight indentation of his long waist. Chris started trembling when Xander
got to the muscular plane of his backside, and Xander gave a playful
nibble at where Chris"s ass met his inner thigh and disappeared into the
secret hollow where all good things were possible.
Chris made a hissing sound and groaned into the pillow. “You, uh,
gonna touch my asshole anytime, Xan? Kinda dying here.”
Xander laughed helplessly—Chris could do that to him. He reached
under Chris"s body and gripped him, stroking slow and strong, which
was how Chris liked it. Chris moaned and grunted and thrust his hips in
rhythm, and Xander fumbled with the lube tube with his other hand. He
managed to spill some down the crack of