Date: Fri, 01 Dec 2000 18:24:15 -0700
From: Daniel Lund <rimshotsplanet@hotmail.com>
Subject: Southern Knights 3

Wow, the response to this story is incredible.  Thank you for all of the
messages.  I apologize if I don't respond to everyone, but I don't have as
much time as I'd like.  We're going to deal with some issues in the next few
chapters that several of you have suggested, and this story gets a little
intense, so hang on to your britches.  I've been told many times by a lot of
you that the reason you like my stories is there's meat in them, not just
sex.  Well, sex is fun to write, but the meat is the challenge, so let me
know what you think.

One of my readers has suggested that I meet with anyone interested in a chat
room to get ideas for my story lines.  This sounds great, but I have no idea
how to do it, and my attempts to join a chat room were a disaster.  Anyone
have any suggestions, like possibly a private chat room?  Email me with
ideas, and I'll get back to you.

If you under eighteen, go away.  If you don't like stories about gay sex and
relationships, you're way lost.  Try Disney.com or something else.

Thanks,

Dan

Rimshotsplanet@hotmail.com



Southern Knights 3:

	Lorna Corbridge stood outside the office near her car and stared at the
sheets of paper she held.  She felt numb, and it was hard to think.  In the
midst of her Thanksgiving Day shopping, she had received an unusual phone
call, which led to a meeting she could've never imagined.

	With pure will, she got in the car and drove home, totally unaware of the
passage of time, on autopilot.  There was still two hours until the boys got
home, and she made her way into the den and out of character, poured a stiff
whiskey and sipped it, looking out the French doors at the garden.  It had
been such a shock to her, and to Pat, and she had no idea what to tell the
boys.

	Bryce dumped his books into his locker after the last bell and retrieved
those that he had homework in, tossing them into the backpack that Tate had
gotten for him.  It had been like pulling teeth to get Bryce to accept his
new clothes and shoes, but Tate had threatened to toss his ass in the
Cumberland River, and Bryce had finally realized what an idiot he was being.
  He really was grateful, just embarrassed.

	It had been a decent day.  It seemed that since he got the haircut,
earrings, and clothes, all of the sudden he was a person.  A lot of the
people that never noticed him now spoke to him often in class, and Bryce
started feeling like a person.

	He pulled on his jacket and closed his locker before loping down the hall
to meet Tate.  The tall muscular quarterback was talking to two of his team
mates, Joziah Jackson, a good looking black kid that played wide receiver,
and Brad Wadman, the other star receiver.  Brad was shorter than Tate and
Joze, but moved like electricity on the field.  His long blond hair was
pulled back in a ponytail.

	"Hey, runt."  Tate smiled as Bryce walked up.

	"Hey, Bryce."  The other two waved.  They had gotten to know Bryce through
Tate, and had challenged he and Tate to several matches of Final Fantasy
VIII over the last two weeks.

	"Hi guys."  Bryce dumped his book bag on the floor and looked disgusted.
"I got fuckin' sand bagged on my geometry test.  Mr. Mathews thinks your dad
has been teaching me."  Bryce and Pat Corbridge had discovered a mutual
fascination with architecture and geometry, and Bryce was just as likely to
be doing his homework in Pat's den as in Tate's room.

	"He is teaching you, Bryce."  Tate chuckled and picked up both of their
bags and headed for the parking lot.

	"Yeah, but he ain't doin' it for me."  Bryce threw up his hands.  "He
wasn't here taking the fuckin' test!"

	"Maybe Mr. Corbridge would call Mathews for you.  Maybe that would help."
Joze offered, pulling the door open for everyone.

	"'Course he would, if you asked."  Tate offered.

	"I guess."  Bryce leaned against the Camaro and held the bags while Tate
unlocked it.

	"We on for a game tonight?" Brad asked, hands in his pockets.  "You owe us
a chance to even the score, man."

	"Sorry, bud.  I got all kinds of homework, and don't forget early practice
in the morning."  Tate caught his bag as Bryce tossed it to him and dropped
it in the back seat.

	"Oh, shit.  That's right." Joze winced.

	"How do you expect to get up that early, Tate?  Is Lorna gonna use ice
water?"  Bryce quipped.

	"Get in smartass."  Tate chuckled and waved to the others.  "See you in the
morning."  He started the car and laid rubber out of the parking lot,
causing he and Bryce to both laugh like madmen.  "Do we need to stop at your
place, or did you already ask if you could stay tonight?"

	"I asked last night."  Bryce looked down at his hands.  "She's sick again,
and wants to be alone."

	"Again?  Didn't she just have the flu or something?"  Tate asked, then
instantly wished he hadn't.  "I'm sorry, Bryce.  That was rude."

	Bryce took Tate's hand in his and squeezed it.  "It's okay.  She does get
sick a lot more than other people."  He looked out the window at the passing
trees, still holding hands.  "She don't look good."

	They parked the car and gathered their bags, heading for the kitchen for
eats.  Tate looked curiously at the bags on the counter, some dripping from
defrosting, and looked at Bryce.  "That's weird."

	"Why'd she leave this stuff out?"  Bryce asked.  "Her car's in the garage."

	"I don't know.  Gimme a hand, will ya?"  They put the groceries away
quickly and cleaned the counter.  As they finished, Lorna walked in and
smiled wanly at them.  "Hey, Momma."  Tate greeted her.  "Are you okay?"

	"Hi, boys.  Yes, dear, I'm fine."  She sighed and leaned against the
counter.  "Thank you for cleaning up for me.  It's been a long day.  Tate,
will you do me a favor and order pizza when your dad comes in?  I don't feel
like cooking tonight."

	"Sure, Mom.  What's the matter?"  Tate asked, feeling the hairs stand up on
his neck.

	"We'll talk about it when your dad gets home, but first I need to talk to
Bryce.  Would you mind going up and starting your homework and giving us a
couple of minutes?"  Tate nodded and glanced at Bryce, then left for his
room.

	"Bryce, sit down, honey."  Lorna pulled out a chair at the table for him.
"I had a call from your mother today, sweetheart, and she's asked us to
watch you for awhile."

	Bryce's throat closed up, and he forced a swallow.  "Is it because she's
sick?"

	Lorna nodded.  She felt like he heart would break as she watched Bryce's
face.  "Honey, she and I met with an attorney today, and as of today, Pat
and I have taken custody of you.  You see, your mother is a lot sicker than
she's told you."

	"What is it?"  Bryce asked.  His face was hot, and he felt like he needed
to throw up.

	"Your mother has AIDS, Bryce.  That's why she's never been able to throw
off all those colds."  She sat in the chair next to his and put her arm
around his shoulders.  "She's going into the hospital, honey.  It doesn't
look good."

	Bryce sagged against her, suddenly very weak.  His mind whirled, and bitter
bile rose in his throat.  "They can't help her, can they?"  Hey whispered,
then looked up into Lorna's face.

	"Not very much."  She shook her head.  "Oh, Bryce, I am so sorry.  We love
you so much, and we're here for you.  This is going to be so tough to go
through.  I hope you realize how welcome you are here, and that we're glad
to have you."

	Bryce tried to answer, tried to nod his head, do something, but he
couldn't.  Numbness welled up inside him, and he felt tears start to sting
his eyes.  The world was ending for him, and he couldn't stop it.  Why
didn't she tell him?  Why couldn't she let him get prepared for this?  Why
was he always alone?

	A few minutes later, he made his way into what would now be his room, the
former guest room that joined Tate's through a set of French doors.  He
wandered into the bathroom, identical to Tate's, and washed his face with
cold water.  Red eyes and pale skin looked back at him from the mirror, and
his expression hardened as he turned away.

	Bryce took of his jacket and tossed it by the door, a bad habit he'd
acquired from his love, then stood in the open space between the bed and the
door staring.  It was so hard to think.  His head ached, and his stomach
knotted up.

	Without thinking about it, be backed slowly into the corner of the room,
then slid down the wall and wrapped his arms around his knees.  In a moment,
he rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes.  He was so tired.  He'd
just rest for a second.

	It was dark when he lifted his head.  His neck and back ached, and the
headache was still there.  He blinked several times to focus his eyes, and
noticed Tate sitting on the floor not to far away reading from a school
book, his back against the bed.

	Tate looked up and smiled, although his face was drawn.  He looked tired,
too.  "Hey." He said quietly, setting the book on the floor.  "Have a good
nap?"

	"I'm stiff.  It's hard to move."  Bryce groaned and straightened his legs
out.

	"I guess I should've woke you up.  Sorry."  Tate rolled onto his knees and
crawled the short distance to the corner.  He folded his legs under himself
and sat in front of Bryce.

	"I didn't even think I was tired."

	Tate nodded and reached out to touch Bryce's hand.  "Mom kinda clued me in.
  For what it's worth, I always wanted a little brother."  He chuckled.  "No
pun intended."

	Bryce tried to smile back but couldn't.  He sort of rolled forward into to
Tate's lap, relaxing as Tate's powerful arms circled around him.  "Can we
just sit like this awhile?"  Bryce mumbled, his mouth buried in the curve of
Tate's shoulder.

	Whatever you want, baby.  Whatever you want."




***


	It was impossible for Tate to get Bryce to eat.  Frustrated, he set the
slices of pizza on the table in his room and sat down to finish his
homework.  At around 8:30, he heard the shower in Bryce's room start
running, and he breathed an inward sigh of relief.

	Lorna had given Tate a nutshell version of what was happening when Bryce
had come up the stairs.  Surprised by Bryce's quietness, and the fact that
he went in the other room and shut the door, Tate had gone down to see what
had happened.

	The new living arrangements, and Bryce's retreat inside himself were
already wearing on Tate's nerves.  Disgusted, he threw his pen down and
silently cursed that piece of shit Bryce called mother.

	For years she knew that Bryce was getting the shit kicked out of him, and
she did nothing.  Bryce's one wish was to know who his dad was, and she
wouldn't tell him.  She was sick constantly, worrying Bryce to death, and
the stupid bitch wouldn't even tell her son why!

	Tate stood up and swept the books off the table and kicked his bedpost,
then swore mightily and grabbed his foot.  Smooth, very smooth.  The more he
thought about it, the more pissed off he got, and then he got mad at Bryce
for being so quiet about it.

	"Godammit!"  He shouted, clinching his fists and shaking them at the
ceiling.  "This is fucking bullshit!"

	Two things happened at once, and the situation rapidly dissolved into a
meager shadow of the temper Tate had going.  Footsteps thundered up the
stairs, and the French doors to Bryce's room flew open.  Tate looked from
one door to the other, seeing his mother come in one with a frightened look
on her face, and Bryce come screaming in the other with a towel wrapped
around his waist and shampoo in his hair.

	"Uh, hi guys."  Tate said, suddenly feeling like an idiot.

	"What's the matter?"

	"What's wrong?"

	Lorna and Bryce spoke at exactly the same time, and then looked at each
other and back at Tate.  Bryce wiped soap out of his eyes, and Tate and
Lorna turned to him.

	"Bryce, honey, you're dripping on the carpet."  Lorna said kindly.

	Bryce looked down.  "Oh, whoops."  Red faced, he turned and went back to
his room, leaving Tate with his mother.

	Lorna turned her attention back to Tate.  "What is it, son?"  She looked
down at the pile on the floor.  "What happened?"

	"I was thinking about that stupid bitch in the hospital, and I got mad."
Tate felt his cheeks burning.  "It's bullshit, Momma.  Complete bullshit."

	She held out her arms to him, embracing him.  "You're right, Tate, it is.
But that boy needs us right now, and we're gonna be there.  You can't blow
up like this around him for a while.  He needs a rock to anchor to."

	"I'll try.  It's just so damned stupid.  How the hell did she get AIDS,
anyway?"  Tate sat on the edge of the bed with her and leaned his head on
her shoulder.  "Look what it's doing to Bryce.  Do you have any idea how
hard it was to make him a person again?  And now she's messed it all up."

	"You've been a good friend, Tate, and now you can try and be a good
brother."  Lorna shook her head.  "I feel so strange, taking Bryce in, even
though I know it's the right thing to do.  Your dad nearly had a fit."

	"Didn't he want Bryce here?"  Tate asked, worried.

	"No, that wasn't it at all.  Bryce has really become one of the family.
Pat thinks so too.  He was just as angry at his mother as you are."  Lorna
sighed.  "We don't know the story, Tate.  Don't judge, and don't say bad
things to Bryce about her.  Imagine how hard that would be."

	"I love you, Mom."  Tate kissed her on the cheek and stood up with her.
"I'll be careful what I say."

	"I know you will, sweetheart."  Lorna patted his cheek with her hand.  "You
could start by remembering your manners, and not swearing in front of your
mother."

	"Sorry, ma'am."  Tate said, ashamed.

	"I understand, honey.  Now get to bed, and tell Bryce to try and get some
sleep.  I'm going to let you two stay home if you want from school, but you
have a game tomorrow night so you decide."

	"Goodnight, Momma."

	"'Night, honey."  She pulled the door shut behind her, and Tate cleaned up
the mess on the floor.  As he finished, he heard the doors open from Bryce's
room and looked up.  Bryce stepped in tentatively, unsure if the discussion
was over, and Tate smiled.

	"Hey."  He said, letting his eyes wander over Bryce in his new silk boxers,
the ones that Tate really liked that were split up the sides clear to the
waist band, and a matching silk tank top.  "Wow, you look great."

	"Yeah?"  Bryce smiled lopsidedly.  "They feel funny, kinda sexy."  He
walked over by the table and picked up a pen, handing it to Tate.  He could
feel the sides pull open on the boxers, and knew that quite a lot of his ass
was showing.  It was very cool.

	"They look sexy."  Tate grinned and took the pen from Bryce and gave him a
quick peck on the lips.  "If you wanna stay in here tonight, you can.  I'm
gonna jump in the shower.  The remote's on the bed if you wanna watch TV."
Tate started peeling off his clothes and wandered towards his bathroom,
dropping things as he went.

	"Actually, I was gonna get on the Internet if it's okay."  Bryce followed,
picking up the clothes and putting them in the hamper in the closet.

	"That's cool."  Tate said over his shoulder and closed the door.  Bryce
heard the water start as he fired up the computer.  There was specific
information he wanted, and from the classes at school, he knew how to do a
good search on the web.  Several hundred sites came up, and he narrowed the
search down.

	One site looked promising, and Bryce read rapidly through the material,
instantly memorizing points of interest.  At one point, he wrinkled his nose
in disgust, clicking quickly to a different page.  That was more what he
wanted, and he quickly digested the information.

	Tate came out drying his hair, dressed in a pair of velour boxers.  The
shimmering maroon material caught Bryce's eye, and he hastily shut down the
computer, not wanting Tate to see what he was doing.

	"Whatcha got there?"  Tate asked, tossing the towel back into the bathroom.

	"Nothin' yet, but it'll be a cool surprise later."  Bryce climbed up onto
the bed and slid under the covers.  "Lets just say it'll be worth it, 'kay?"

	Tate Turned out the lights and slid into the bed, sliding up behind Bryce
and draping his arm over him.  After a moment he reached up and stroked
Bryce's cheek.  "I'm glad you're here, little buddy.  I can't imagine how
you feel, but I'm here, okay?"

	"Thanks."  Bryce wriggled up closer and sank into the pillow.  It felt so
good to have Tate's powerful body next to his, and it was almost possible to
forget his problems.  Almost.  Long after he heard Tate's breathing deepen
and even out, Bryce stared at the shadows on the wall.

	How did his mother get AIDS?  Was it sex?  Did she pick it up from one of
the guys she brought home, or was it from a needle?  When did she get it?
How long ago?  What would people think of him?  In the early hours of the
morning Bryce finally slipped into a troubled sleep.

	The next morning, Tate woke up when the alarm went off at five thirty for
early practice.  He was alone in the bed, and he sat up and looked around in
muggy confusion.  Where was Bryce?

	The door to Bryce's room opened, and Bryce walked in, fully dressed, and
smiled as Tate turned on the light.  "Mornin, sleepy head.  You better get
crackin'.  You have practice at 6:30."

	"How long have you been up?"  Tate asked, sliding out of the covers.

	"I went into my room a few hours ago and slept in the bed so Lorna would
think I was in there last night."  Bryce opened the closet and tossed a
turtleneck shirt to Tate.

	"Thanks."  Tate pulled it on and stood up, rubbing his eyes.  "You comin'
to watch practice?"

	"Actually, I wanna walk to school.  I need to think."  Bryce sat down at
the table across the room, pulling out his schoolbooks.

	Even clear across the room, Tate could see the dark circles under Bryce's
eyes.  "I think you should do like Mom said and stay home today, Bryce.  You
look like you need the rest."

	"I look like shit, don't I?"  Bryce smiled slightly.  "Seriously, though,
I'll go nuts if I stay here by myself.  I'd rather just have a normal day.
At least you'll be at the school with me, right?"

	"Right."  Tate chuckled and shook his head.  If he'd been offered a chance
to miss school, he'd have jumped on it.  Unless it messed with football of
course.

	They ate in the kitchen with Lorna, who also tried to get Bryce to stay
home.  Bryce followed Tate into the garage and closed the door, and then
kissed him goodbye.  He watched the Camaro drive away and waved.  When it
was gone, he went inside for his book bag, accepted a kiss on the cheek from
Lorna, and headed out for school.

	There was no rain for a change, and the air was clear and crisp.  Bryce
felt better, like he could handle what had been thrown at him.  He thought
about Tate, and how lucky he was to have him.  He never had anyone love him
like that, and it made his heart beat funny thinking about it.

	Pat and Lorna were good to him as well, although he felt funny about them
having custody of him.  If he could've ever chosen his parents, they
would've topped the list, but he would've just as soon been with his mom.

	His imagination gave him image after image of his mother laying in a
hospital room, tubes in her arms, and one of those oxygen masks on her face,
or a tube up her nose.  He stumbled over a rock and nearly fell, and angrily
shoved the image away.  She would be fine.  She had to be.  This wasn't
really happening.

	He entered the school after his long walk.  There were a few kids in the
halls this early, but not many.  He found a bench near Tate's locker and sat
down to re-read his history assignment for a test.

	About an hour later, Tate ambled up and sat down with Brad and Joze.  "Hey,
Bryce."  Brad said.

	"Sorry to hear about your mom."  Joze reached out and shook Bryce's hand.

	"Yeah, that's a bitch."

	"He'll be fine."  Tate stopped them from getting Bryce upset.  The halls
were much more crowded now, and he put his arm around Bryce's shoulders.
"You ready for this?"

	"I'm fine."  Bryce lied and stood up with them to go to first hour.

	The day dragged, and Bryce got worse as he stewed about his mother.  By
lunch, he was bitchy and sarcastic.  Tate tried to take him home, but he
stubbornly refused.  By the end of the day, Bryce was withdrawn and moody.
As they stopped at their lockers, Bryce was completely silent.  Tate walked
up the hall to talk to Brad and Joziah about tomorrow night's game, leaving
Bryce to get his books.

	Bryce dumped his books in an untidy mess in the bottom of his locker, very
out of character.  As he leaned over, someone crashed into him hard, mashing
his shoulders painfully into the sides of the locker.

	"He can't protect you forever."  There was a harsh whisper in his ear as
Bryce straightened up.  It was Curtis Mann.  A brief lightening bolt of
terror went through Bryce as he stared into those sunken dead eyes.  It
suddenly turned to rage.

	"What is your fucking problem?!"  Bryce demanded, advancing on an obviously
shocked Curtis Mann.  "Haven't I had enough of your fucking beatings,
Curtis, or are you still trying to fuck me?"

	Tate's head snapped up as he heard Bryce's shouts, and the three of them
started to make their way through the gathering crowd.

	"Is that what it'll take to get you away from me, Curtis?  Do you still
want to fuck me?"  Bryce screamed.  He yanked his belt open and unzipped his
pants, shoving them and his boxers down.  "Here, asshole.  Let me have it,
then get the fuck out of my life!"  He turned and put his hands on the
lockers and stuck his ass out.

	Curtis was fire red, helplessly watching.  The crowd was silent, all of
them looking at him.  He didn't know what to do, and looked for a way out.
He wanted that little fuck dead, and considered several options.

	"Come on, you fucking coward, do it!"  Bryce sobbed, sagging against the
lockers sobbing.  Tate shoved through to him, followed by Brad and Joze.
While Tate hurriedly pulled Bryce's clothes up, Brad and Joze confronted
Curtis.

	"What the hell's wrong with you, Mann?  Can't you find a puppy to kick?"
Brad snarled in the fat former linebacker's face.  "Do you have any idea how
many people want you dead right now?"

	"Get the fuck out of here, asshole, and don't come back."  Joze said
quietly.  The tall handsome muscular black boy slid himself in between Brad
and Curtis to stop a possible fight.  "Just leave."  His eyes showed that he
was serious, and Curtis turned to leave.

	"No, godammit!"  Bryce wailed, pounding his fist on a locker.  "Let him do
it!  Let the fat bastard have what he wants so he'll leave me alone!"

	Tate stood up and grabbed Bryce's wrists.  "Bryce, stop it!  Enough."

	"But he won't leave me alone!"  Bryce was hysterical, and the crowd began
to move threateningly towards Curtis Mann, who looked like a ghost.

Joziah put his hand on Curtis' shoulder and pushed.  "You better get outa
here, Mann.  Move."

"Is he okay?"  Brad asked quietly, moving over to Tate and Bryce.  Tate
shook his head.

"I need a path out of here, guys, real fast."  Tate pulled Bryce to him and
pulled him towards the opening that Joziah was making.  "Brad, grab the
books."

There were mumbles and comments about Bryce's mental capacity as they went
down the hall and out the doors.  Joziah jogged out to the Camaro and opened
the doors, and Brad followed them out, watching their backs.

The two cars practically flew out of town towards Tate's house.  Bryce
lapsed into silence, looking out the window at nothing.  Tate was shaken,
and he was worried, and he had no idea what to do about either situation.

When they pulled up, Joziah sprinted into the house to get Lorna, and Brad
helped Tate.  Bryce seemed almost catatonic as they lifted him out of the
seat.  His eyes were open, but he wouldn't respond to them.  Tate scooped
Bryce up, and Brad got the door.  Finally, as they entered the house, Bryce
slipped his arms around Tate's neck and squeezed hard.

Lorna came out of the living room and tossed her cleaning rag in the kitchen
sink.  "What happened?"  She demanded, following them up the stairs.  Brad
filled her in as they went, and for the first time ever, the three football
players, that had known each other for years, and had known Lorna just as
long, heard her cursing.

"I told you he needed to stay home from school today.  His poor emotions are
shot to hell already.  Why did you let him go?"  She asked Tate not very
kindly.  They went into Bryce's room and Tate put him on the bed.

"I don't have the right to stop him, mother."  Tate snapped back.  "You
didn't tell me to tie him up."

"Well for Christ's sake, Tate, if you knew he wasn't feeling well, why
didn't you bring him home?"

"What answer do you want?  I just told you!"  Tate said through clenched
teeth.

"Stop it."  Bryce said weekly.  He put his hand on Lorna's wrist and looked
up at her imploringly.  "Please don't fight.  I started this."

"Oh, Bryce honey, I didn't mean to upset you."  She sat on the bed next to
him and helped him sit up and take his jacket off.  "But what I need you to
realize is that no, we really don't know how you feel about things, but that
I think you need some time.  You should've stayed home today and rested."

"I wanted to be with Tate."  Bryce mumbled, then turned red, realizing what
he'd just said.

"He should've stayed home, too."  Lorna looked at her son and sighed.
"Anyway, I want you to rest awhile, and then we'll decide if you need to see
a doctor, or just need some sleep, okay?"  Bryce nodded, and Lorna patted
his arm and stood up.  She gathered the others with a look.  "You three,
outside."

Heads hung, they followed her down to the kitchen.  She opened the fridge
and pulled out a pitcher of juice, then got glasses out of the cabinet.
"What happened needs to not happen again, boys.  I mean it.  That kid is
like a piece of thin ice, ready to shatter.  Do you read me?"

They nodded their heads, and she poured herself a glass.  "I'm going against
Bryce's wishes, and I'm gonna call the authorities about this Mann kid.
Nobody should have to live in fear like that.  Especially Bryce, who already
has enough going on with his mother and all."

"Momma, before you do that, can we have a crack at handling it?"  Tate
asked, meeting the other two's eyes briefly.  They nodded, angry like he
was, and he turned to his mother.  "We can fix this problem."

Lorna looked at each of them, then set her glass down.  "Tate, lynching that
kid doesn't solve the problem."

"Neither does making Bryce a fool at Riverbend, Momma.  It'll get out, and
it'll be Bryce that pays for it, not Curtis.  Even if he's arrested, Bryce
will be the fool.  That's the reality of it, and you know it."

She sighed deeply.  "I have to think on it.  We'll talk about it with your
dad.  Go check on Bryce."  She watched them file up the stared and shook her
head.  God, this was a mess.

They found Bryce asleep, or appearing to be asleep, and went into Tate's
room, speaking softly.  "Go ahead and set up Fantasy VIII if you want."
Tate whispered, shucking his jacket onto the floor by the door.

Brad nodded and sat in front of the TV.  Joze took their coats and put them
with Tate's.  "Can I use your computer a sec?"  Joze asked.  Tate nodded,
and Joze sat at the desk.  Tate wandered into the closet and changed into
shorts and a t-shirt.

When the browser came up on the computer, Bryce had accidentally changed the
home page, and the caramel skinned wide receiver's eyebrows shot up.  "Uh,
Tate?  What's with this page, man?"  Displayed was a directory of sex
secrets for gay men.

Tate felt his chest tighten and his face burn.  What should he say?  He
either burned himself down, or he burned Bryce down.  "Holy shit."  He
mumbled, looking at the computer.  Even Brad looked shocked.

"I, uh..."  Tate reached for the power switch, stopped, reached for it
again, stopped, and then just stood there, out of words.  Brad walked up
behind him, and Tate thought it was to get their coats.  Joziah's face was
unreadable.

"It's okay."  Brad said after a long silence.  "I think I got it figured,
and it's okay."  His voice sounded strange to Tate, and he put his hand on
Tate's shoulder.  "Tate, are you and Bryce, you know, an item?"

Tate was shaking, realizing his worst fears were coming true.  With great
effort, he nodded, waiting for the blow.  Waiting for them to storm out and
tell everyone, or tell his mother.  Waiting for them to beat the shit out of
him, or something worse.

Something touched his hand, and he jumped.  It was Joziah taking his hand.
"We're your friends, Tate.  Chill, okay?"  The warm timber of Joziah's voice
helped a little.  "Uh, you actually solved kind of a problem we had anyway."

"Yeah."  Brad smiled, turning red.  "See, your not alone, you get me?"

Tate was confused.  He wasn't sure what they were saying.  He decided to
keep his mouth shut for now.  Joziah stood up and turned to stand behind
Brad, his arms encircling his waist.  Tate was blown away.  His two best
friends, whom he'd known forever, now stood in front of him hugging.  He sat
down on the bed hard.  "Oh, wow."  Was all he could say.

"Are you okay?"  Joziah asked, kneeling down in front of Tate.  "Come on,
Tater, talk to me."

"I can't take this all at once."  Tate looked him in the eye and started
crying.  He couldn't help it.  He had hit over load, and he realized that
for whatever reasons, he was just as torn up inside as Bryce was.  Joziah
pulled him into his arms, and Tate sobbed, releasing all of the pent up shit
he'd been carrying around.  He felt Brad's hand rubbing his back.

"What's going on?"  Bryce asked quietly, coming in from his room.  The three
of them made quite a seen, all in a group embrace.

Tate leaned back and looked at him, sniffing and smiling.  "They're like us,
Bryce.  They're okay with you and me."

	Bryce's eyes narrowed as Tate stood up and walked towards him.  "What do
you mean?"

"I'll show you."  Tate bent down and kissed Bryce on the lips, long and
hard, and Bryce fell into the kiss fairly quickly.  It was like drinking at
a well, and he could never get enough.  When they parted, he looked
nervously at Brad and Joze, noting that they didn't mind.  In fact, they
looked happy for Bryce and Tate.

"Wasn't that cute."  Brad said with a big pouting lip.  "The big quarterback
kissed his boyfriend for us."

"I thought it was romantic."  Joziah whacked Brad on the arm.  "You never
kissed me in front of somebody like that."

"It woulda got us killed, Joze!"  Brad returned indignantly.

Bryce wrapped his arms around Tate's waist and looked up into his eyes.  "So
am I really your boyfriend now?"  Tate leaned done and kissed him again.

"I guess you're stuck with me now, baby."