Page 116 of Wingmen

Dustin squeezed his shoulder. “Me too.”

“Now what?” he mumbled.

Dustin reached for the remote on the nightstand. “Room service, because you’re starving. Then I think we sleep for…ever.”

He handed the remote to Elliot, who clicked on the TV while Dustin leaned over and picked up the phone. He went through the channels while Dustin ordered. An ad for a strip club, a show about two guys flipping houses,Star Trek.His heart skipped as he passed a familiar face. He paused, glanced over his shoulder at Dustin on the phone, then tapped back to it and put the show on mute. It was the same episode he’d been watching in Portland. Did all the hotels play it, or something?

Dustin hung up and his fingers slid absently back into Elliot’s hair as Sophia put her back to the door on the TV. At the bottom of the screen the subtitles said,Fasten your seatbelt, slut puppy.This ain’t gonna be no cakewalk.

Oddly relevant, considering the shitstorm he and Dustin had started tonight.

Dustin’s fingers stilled. “Wait…” he said. “What are wewatching?”

Elliot nervously mumbled, “...Golden Girls?”

“Thisis theGolden Girls?Did that little old lady just sayslut puppy?”

“Claro.” He grinned over his shoulder.

Dustin was staring at the TV in disbelief. “Did you tell me yourgrandmalearned English from this show?”

Elliot laughed. “Yeah, my grandma’s English is filthy. Wait–” He frowned. “When did I tell you that?”

“A while ago. I think I said something shitty about it and you got all sassy and told me to fuck off.”

“And you remember that?”

“Sure.” Dustin looked down and smiled. “I guess I must’ve thought it was cute.”

“You thought mygrandmawas cute?”

“No, idiot.You. For defending her honor.”

The room service came and they spread it out on the bed and devoured it naked with theGolden Girlson mute. They got sauce on the comforter, which Elliot felt bad about, until Dustin pointed out that there was so much come all over everything that some fettuccini Alfredo was going to be the least of their problems. Afterward they sat with Dustin against the headboard and Elliot’s head in his lap again.

Exhausted didn’t begin to describe how he felt.

The reality of what he’d done tonight was beginning to sink in, and the prospect of what was waiting for them after this weekend felt suddenly overwhelming.

“We should probably figure out what we’re actually going to do,” he said, not actually wanting to do that.

Dustin didn’t say anything for a while. His arm was draped over Elliot, his thumb making small circles on his hip, and Elliot could tell he was composing words as he sat there idly doing that. Eventually, he said, “I think I’m just gonna move to Tampa.”

Elliot’s heart went completely upside-down. He looked over his shoulder. “What?”

Dustin looked down. “If that’s okay with you.”

“It’s…yeah?”

“I think I wanna get involved in the foundation here. Do something for the community. I could do it in Portland but…you’re here.”

Elliot’s heart fluttered. “Something for the community like what?”

Sighing, Dustin picked up the remote and clicked off the TV. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading…” He leaned over and put it back on the nightstand. “Do you actually wanna know?” Elliot nodded and watched Dustin wind one of his damp curls around his finger while he organized his thoughts.

“So…the percentage of queer kids that are at risk from substance abuse is just…wayhigher than it is for cis and straight kids,” said Dustin. “Like, it’s crazy. And obviously a hockey foundation isn’t gonna fix that, but it’s a way for people to find a support system.”

Elliot smiled. “Wow, ‘cis’. Look at you.”