Page 122 of Playing to Win

Andrew opened his YouTube account and selected the video he’d made exactly a week ago, after another long, sleepless night like this one. Many times over these last harrowing hours, he’d been on the verge of sharing it with Colin and perhaps even with the world. But the time never felt right.

Now, the time was either perfectly right or catastrophically wrong.

Andrew’s finger hovered over the screen. With one tap, he would destroy his future. But he might also create a new one in its place.

A minute later, when Andrew was finished, Colin’s phone beeped with the first of many notifications. Andrew plugged it in to charge, then shut off both phones and left them behind.

There was no going back to normal now. There was no more normal to go back to.

He found Colin curled on his bed atop the duvet, facing away from the door, holding his knees.

Andrew went to him and bent to touch his shoulder. “We should sleep.”

“I don’t think I can.” Colin’s voice was gritty, and his breath smelled of toothpaste. “I’m afraid to wake up and realize we’ve lost.”

The hurt in his voice twisted Andrew’s heart like nothing ever before. He wanted to take away all Colin’s pain, or at least help him forget it, for a short while. If only there was something he could give him that would fix it. But no money could buy the comfort Colin needed right now.

“If you won’t sleep,” Andrew said, “then come have a shower with me.”

Colin raised an eyebrow. “You never share your shower.”

“Special occasion.” He straightened up and started tugging off Colin’s socks. “I’ll cleanse you of all the bad vibes. And perhaps it’ll help you sleep.”

“Doubt it.” Colin rolled out of bed. “Seeing you naked is the world’s worst cure for insomnia.”

= = =

Andrew’s shower wasn’t built for two, but he made it work by ordering Colin to stand still while he washed him. An idea was forming in Andrew’s mind, an idea born of all the love and agony he felt watching Colin suffer.

“What’s that stuff?” Colin asked as Andrew opened the jar of his favorite skin product.

“Ginger-brown-sugar body scrub. After last night, you’ll want to be rid of as many dead skin cells as possible.” He scooped out a dollop with the tiny plastic spatula. “Hold the jar and turn round.”

Colin sniffed the scrub. “So this is why you smell like dessert after you shower. Och, that tickles!” he added as Andrew rubbed his back.

“Be still.” He worked the product over the contours of Colin’s lats and delts, taking his time, until he saw Colin’s head drop forward in relaxation (or resignation, Andrew wasn’t sure which).

After Andrew had finished scrubbing him, Colin stroked his own arm. “Nice. Is this how your skin’s so smooth?”

“Did you think I was born this way?”

“I thought it was the fact you’ve never done an honest day’s work in your life.”

Andrew reached for the calming rosemary-chamomile body wash. “Good to see your biting humor has returned.”

“Well, banter is one of the five Glaswegian stages of grief.”

“And the other four?”

“Alcohol, incoherent rage, more alcohol, and ever-deepening cynicism.”

While Colin shampooed his own hair, Andrew lathered him head to toe, feeling Colin’s cock shift and stiffen in his sudsy grasp. His own body responded as well, despite the fatigue of a lost night’s sleep.

Then Colin washed him in return, spreading the lather over every plane of Andrew’s body. Despite the thickening steam and his own rising desire, Andrew could see that Colin’s eyes still held that hollow look.

So he didn’t kiss or caress him as they rinsed off. When they stepped out of the shower, Andrew merely wrapped Colin in a soft, clean towel and let him dry himself. Then he led him back to the bed.

“Let’s just lie down together,” Andrew said as he drew back the covers. “No sleep, no sex. We’ll just…be.”

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