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“Baby, please, maybe it’s not such a—mmmf!” He breaks off in a moan as I run my teeth gently over the tip of his erection. He tastes like Rex, salty and a little sweet, like a hot martini. I take him all the way into my mouth, hands running up the backs of his thighs, and as he starts to rock his hips toward me, I don’t have to think about anything except the feel of his fingers in my hair, his muscles under my hands, and his pleasure. I suck him hard, palming his ass.

“Shit, Danny,” Rex says as I swallow around the tip of his cock. I’m trying to make him come hard and fast and still have enough hot water to wash my hair. All it takes is applying everything I’ve learned Rex likes over the last few months at once. A lick here, a nibble there, a finger here, and he’s gone, coming down my throat with a torn-off moan. But when he reaches for me to return the favor, I just reach for Ginger’s shampoo. I can’t feel that vulnerable right now. I won’t be able to hold it together.

Rex is looking at me strangely. I lean in to kiss him, but he pulls away, catching my chin in his hand. What more does he want from me?

“Hey,” he says, his voice deceptively gentle. “I know you’re not okay. Next time, let’s both be here, all right?”

I drop my eyes to the tile and get shampoo in them for my trouble.

“Sorry,” I murmur.

“No,” he says, “please, no. You felt amazing, I just… I don’t like when you’re so far away. I feel like I’m taking advantage.”

“Okay,” I nod, knuckling water out of my eyes.

“Daniel, god. I—” He looks at me searchingly, so intent on my face that I nearly look away. But he doesn’t finish his sentence. Just pulls me close to him and puts my forehead against his shoulder as he washes the shampoo out of my hair. The hot water is about to go, so I pull him out the door just as it turns freezing. It’s not a shock anyone should experience if they can help it.

I brush my teeth. The taste of all that gum is starting to make me feel sick again.

I throw on jeans and a T-shirt and walk into the living room to pour myself a drink as someone knocks on the door. Ginger comes bustling out of the kitchen to answer it.

“Hey, folks,” the guy who must be Christopher says. He holds up a bag from his sandwich shop in one hand and a bottle of Bulleit in the other.

“Well, I like you already,” I say lightly, taking the whiskey from him. With his free hand, he high-fives Ginger, then pulls her into a kiss.

“He likes me,” Christopher says, winking at me. “That means I’m approved, right?”

“Maybe,” Ginger says. “What’d you bring me?”

“Half a Reuben made with pastrami and half a grilled cheese BLT, two potato knishes, and a cream soda.”

“You’re approved,” I tell him, as Ginger rips into the bag like a velociraptor.

“Are there pickles?” Ginger asks.

“As I value my life,” Christopher says.

“Hey,” I say, holding out a hand to him. “I’m Daniel.”

“Yes, I know,” he sighs. “The man I have to impress in order for Ginger to even consider taking me seriously. Nice to meet you.” His smile is gone as instantly and naturally as if it were never there. “I was really sorry to hear about your father. Family—no matter what, it’s intense.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks.”

“Hi,” Rex says, coming out of the bathroom. “I’m Rex.”

“Daniel’s boyfriend—” Christopher nods. “—Christopher. Nice to meet you.”

“I like him,” I say to Ginger. “He says good, nonstupid sentences.”

“Yeah,” Ginger says, “and he never says idiotic sexist shit that’s disguised as a compliment.”

“Rare,” I say.

“Virtually nonexistent when coupled with good looks and good deli.”

“Statistically.”

Christopher and Rex look at us like we’re crazy.

“Aaaanywaaay,” Christopher says, eyebrows raised, “I’m just making the delivery. I know it’s not a great time for socializing. I hope I get to meet you under better circumstances soon, Daniel.”

Ginger raises an eyebrow at me. I raise one back at her.

“No, stay,” I say. “At least for dinner. You brought it, after all.”

“Yeah, stay,” Ginger says, her smile sweet and private. Then her expression changes. “As long as you’re not sharing mine.” She clutches her mismatched sandwich close and takes a step backward. Rex laughs.

“Okay, sure, thanks,” Christopher says.

WE EAT, drink the bourbon Christopher brought, and talk. It’s nice and strangely normal despite it being the first time that Ginger and I have each had a date with us. And, of course, despite it being the first time that Ginger and I have each had a date and my father has just died and my homophobic prick of a brother has turned out to be gay. But who’s counting.

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