Chapter Nine

Justin

"I HOPE YOUR parents don't get mad at me," Bethany said as she set the carving knife and meat fork in front of Ethan's dad and took her seat with a guilty smile.

"No, ma'am, they know I have football, and now that we're headed for the playoffs…" Justin said, shrugging. "They've always known this was how it was going to be. We often celebrate things before or after the real holiday because of football."

"Don't I know that," she said and gave her husband a look only the wife of a football coach could.

Coach carved the turkey, and Bethany filled plates with far too much food and passed them back. Justin liked how Bethany and Coach had started to call them boys . It was silly, but Justin was fond of Ethan's parents, their acceptance of their son, and their lack of prying with too many questions like his parents might.

"So, boys," Coach started, and Ethan nudged Justin with his elbow. "We need to talk about the Bears' defense."

Bethany huffed but took a bite and chewed.

"They're a tough team," Justin admitted. "We've been watching game tape, and when we get back, I have a feeling we'll be watching more and running some new plays. I've got to work on getting faster."

Coach nodded, his mouth full.

"You're already fast," Ethan said.

"I'm faster in the first half than I am in the second, and they know it," Justin said between mouthfuls of Bethany's feast.

"Run with Ethan," Coach suggested, then asked, "Why'd they decide to switch your position freshman year?"

"I was a backup quarterback and not getting enough playing time, so I jumped on it when they brought up the idea because of my speed. More exposure, rather than sitting on the bench."

"Good move, but you also had some pretty strong stats."

Justin shrugged. "I'll play whatever puts me on the turf."

"That's the spirit," Ethan joked.

"And the grades? Both of you," Bethany interjected.

"Good," Ethan said but thumbed at Justin. "He scored two points higher on our last geology lab test."

"I told you that was going to be a trick question," Justin said, shaking his head at Ethan in disappointment, then looking at Ethan's parents. "I told him."

Coach chuckled. "Our son can be stubborn sometimes."

"And are you going to even be able to have a Christmas?" Bethany asked.

"Not if they get to a bowl game," Ethan said, and then Coach really did crack up.

"My God, I never thought this day would come."

"Stop, Dad," Ethan said, but he was just as happy to be talking football with his father. Justin could see it in both of them.

"We'll see," Justin said, answering Bethany.

They sat, with full bellies and half-eaten pie, on the couches, watching the NFL game. Bethany fussed about how there shouldn't be football on holidays. And Coach gave her grief over being thankful he didn't have to watch back-to-back parades as Ethan began to yawn. Bethany headed to the kitchen, leaving the guys to the big screen.

Justin grabbed one of the pillows next to him and laid it next to his leg on the couch. Ethan needed no convincing as he flopped down, his head next to Justin's thigh.

"I'm in a food coma," he mumbled. "Save me."

"Nah, you're gonna have to sleep it off, man. All those carbs." Justin returned his attention to the game. "Or, it's just the Thanksgiving dose of tryptophan."

"It was the pie," Ethan said as he yawned again. "Gets me every year."

Several minutes later, Justin looked down to check on Ethan, softly snoring, only to find Coach catching him doing it. Justin shrugged, reached to the back of the couch, and pulled down Bethany's folded afghan. He carefully spread it over Ethan so as not to wake him.

"You two have gotten close," Coach said.

"We have."

Coach's fingers thrummed on the arm of his recliner.

"I care about him."

Coach nodded, but the silent question lingered without being spoken. Justin felt compelled.

"We're just friends. It's all we can be. We've discussed it," Justin said quietly.

"So you two are in agreement?"

"Yes. I'll never hurt him, never ask him to hide. That's why."

"Good. If you lose in the playoffs, I hope you'll come home for Christmas. And, Justin, you can call me John."

Justin's throat tightened, and he could only nod.

*

JUSTIN SAT ON Ethan's couch, his laptop on the coffee table next to Ethan's.

"We could take a math class together or this Early American Lit class," Ethan said with a slight groan.

"Why not both?" Justin suggested, scrolling through the spring semester courses as they tried to plan out their classes and get registered.

"All right," Ethan said, and Justin leaned in and selected the same course numbers on his screen as Ethan's.

"Now, what do you want to eat?" Justin grabbed his phone and searched through the menus he'd downloaded last fall of their favorite places to order from. "You haven't had eighteen Crab Rangoons in what?" Justin exaggeratedly looked up at the ceiling. "A week now?"

"Stop. It's not like you don't love your fifteen eggrolls," Ethan shot back.

"So fucking good," Justin said with favorite food appreciation in his tone.

"Yeah, order the usual. I'm taking my shower now before I'm too tired later. You need in the bathroom?"

Justin shook his head and watched as Ethan got up and headed in. He stared at the phone screen button to the restaurant until the water turned on, but he laid his phone down as he stood and adjusted the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. Ethan did this to him without even trying. Justin had been fighting it off for weeks now, but damn , everyone had their breaking point.

With a quick flip over his head, his shirt was off, his jeans hit the floor in a heap with his briefs, and he was already across the room and opening the bathroom door before he could talk himself out of this move. He knew he shouldn't do it. The boundaries had been set and agreed to, but he couldn't shake the feeling of Ethan's hand around him or that nagging desire that he'd never gotten the chance to touch Ethan.

The water was loud, and Ethan clearly hadn't heard the door open or had and was ignoring it as Justin slid the shower door open and waited. Ethan turned, his eyes moved down Justin's naked body and lingered on what Justin was making no attempt to hide from him.

"It took you long enough," Ethan said and turned back to the spray.

Justin climbed in, and Ethan maneuvered to swap places.

"What do you mean ‘took me long enough'?"

"Two months," Ethan said.

"We have an agreement," Justin reminded Ethan. "I don't want to break the rules."

Ethan looked down again, this time with a suspicious expression.

"I said I don't want to break the rules," Justin said, pointing below to the obvious. " That guy could give two fucks about the rules. It just wants what it wants." Justin swiped the water from his hair as he stepped closer to reach for the shampoo. He dropped his gaze to Ethan's now-matching problem. "And it seems like someone else has joined the conversation."

"Yeah, I don't think mine gives two fucks right now," Ethan said.

"What if we broke the rules just once more," Justin whispered as he stepped in closer, the shampoo forgotten.

"Just one more time," Ethan agreed as he reached out and took Justin's hand, guided it between them, and used his own hand to control Justin's around Ethan's shaft. "Is this okay?"

"Anything." Justin could barely answer as he felt Ethan's hot skin for the first time. He didn't try to take over, studying how Ethan's fingers controlled his grip—the tightness and motion as he maneuvered Justin's stroking hand.

"Ethan." Justin knew he breathed his name.

"I got you," Ethan whispered back, his free hand wrapping around Justin's length and matching the pace he set with his other hand.

Justin reached his arm over Ethan's shoulder without touching him and planted his hand on the back shower wall behind Ethan for support as he continued to look between them, up at Ethan's face and then back down again.

"It's you," Justin whispered. "Only you make me feel this way. I thought I could… Fuck, slow down, Ethan."

"You thought we could never touch each other again."

Justin could only nod as Ethan deliberately slowed to a torturous pace. His fingers and palm worked around Justin's sensitive head, and Justin shuddered as Ethan's hand slid back down to the base.

"I think we gave it a good effort," Ethan said. "And I've been doing some thinking."

"I can't think right now, Ethan." Justin pushed his hips forward as Ethan pulled, seeking the sensation of driving back into Ethan's hand and imagining what sex with Ethan would feel like if Ethan's hand could undo him like this. Justin watched as Ethan, too, looked between them, observing as he completely controlled this interaction. "Are you okay?"

"Better than okay," Ethan said through a moan. And then he leaned in and rested his forehead against Justin's chest. Justin lay his cheek against the back of Ethan's head and kept his one hand glued to the wall, his other careful not to take over, relishing finally touching Ethan. Well , he enjoyed it for a moment; it was over far too quickly for him, and this time, Ethan was just as quick.

Ethan pulled back and smiled, releasing them, and Justin moved again to let Ethan under the water.

"Look at that; the water didn't even get cold."

Justin laughed at his admission. "We're pathetic."

"Pretty much."

*

"FORTY MINUTES," JUSTIN said after finally ordering their food.

"We aren't talking about it?" Ethan seemed to say more than he asked.

Justin lay against the couch with his head back and eyes closed. "You said you'd been thinking. I do want to know that part."

Ethan sighed. "I know most people are pretty proud to be out. But for me, the closet isn't nearly as scary a place or as doomed place to be in."

"I would never…"

"I know that. But what if I don't want to have my life on public display? What if I'm happiest and feel the safest I've ever felt right here with you?"

"We can't live in a bubble, Ethan."

"We can if that's what we want. Where does it say we must live a certain way or by anyone else's labels, agendas, and expectations?" Ethan rested his head on Justin's shoulder. "Don't we determine our own happiness?"

They were quiet for a long time.

"I know you now," Ethan said. "You're holding back and stopping everything because you think you're asking me to hide. I'm not hiding. I'm happier than I've ever been. Who are you to say we can't if it's my choice?"

Justin laughed, jostling Ethan's head.

"What?"

"‘Who am I to say'? That was just funny." Justin slid his hand over until he found Ethan's. Ethan held his back, and they stayed like that until Ethan's phone rang, the front desk calling about the food delivery.