“Call me," she whispered to him with a confidence that would fade as the days passed. Qhuinn smiled a little. "Take care."At the sound of the two words, Blay relaxed, his big shoulders easing up. In Qhuinn-landia, "Take care" was synonymous with "I'm never going to see, call or fuck you again.”

“Qhuinn: "What is wrong with you, that you care so much about me?"Blay: "What is wrong with you, that you can't see why I would?”

“You're a freak. But I really can't accept these-'Were you raised in a barn? Don't be ruuuuuude, my boy. They're a gift.'Blay shook his head. 'Take them, John. You're just going to lose this argument, and it will save us from the theatrics.'Theatrics?' Qhuinn leaped up and assumed a Roman oratory pose. 'Whither thou knowest thy ass from thy elbow, young scribe?'Blay blushed. 'Come on-'Qhuinn threw himself at Blay, grasping onto the guy's shoulders and hanging his full weight off him. 'Hold me. Your insult has left me breathless. I'm agasp.'Blay grunted and scrambled to keep Qhuinn up off the floor. 'That's agape.'Agasp sounds better.'Blay was trying not to smile, trying not to be delighted, but his eyes were sparkling like sapphires and his cheeks were getting red. With a silent laugh, John sat on one of the locker room benches, shook out his pair of white socks, and pulled them on under his new old jeans. 'You sure, Qhuinn? 'Cause I have a feeling they're going to fit and you might change your mind. Qhuinn abruptly lifted himself off Blay and straightened his clothes with a sharp tug. 'And now you offend my honor.' Facing off at John, he flipped into a fencing stance. Touché.'Blay laughed. 'That's en garde, you damn fool.'Qhuinn shot a look over his shoulder. 'ça va, Brutus?'Et tu?'That would be tutu, I believe, and you can keep the cross-dressing to yourself, ya perv.'Qhuinn flashed a brilliant smile, all twelve kinds of proud for being such an ass. 'Now, put the fuckers on, John, and let's be done with this. Before we have to put Blay in an iron lung.'Try sanitarium.'No, thanks, I had a big lunch.”

“One thing, though," Qhuinn murmured."What?"The voice that came out his throat was unlike anything he'd ever heard from himself before. "If any guy breaks your heart or treats you like shit, I will bust him apart with my bare hands and leave his broken, bloody body for the sun."Blay's laughter rumbled around the tiled walls. "Of course you will--""I'm dead fucking serious."Blay's blue eyes shot over his shoulder."If there are any who dare to hurt you," Qhuinn growled in the Old Language, "I shall see them staked afore me and shall leave their bodies in ruin.”

“Blay didn’t shake the hand that was offered. He reached over, took a hold of the fighter’s face, and drew Qhuinn in for a kiss. It was supposed to be only a split-seconder— like their lips were the ones doing the handshake thing. When he went to pull back, though, Qhuinn captured him, and held him in place. Their mouths met again… and again… and once more, their heads tilting to the sides, the contact lingering. “You’re welcome,” Blay said roughly. Then he smiled a little. “Can’t say it was all a pleasure, though.”

“Qhuinn would reach out and touch the bandage … and then he would let his fingers wander off the gauze and the surgical tape onto the warm, smooth skin of Blay’s stomach. Blay would be shocked, but in this fantasy, he wouldn’t push the hand away.… He would take it lower, down past the injury, down onto his hips and his—“Fuck!”

“Sounds like you want a date, Lash, " Qhuinn barked. "Good deal, 'cause you keep that shit up, you're going to get fucked, buddy.”