“Ask me again, Tristan read on his cell phone. Ask what? he sent back. Why I call you Sparky. Michael fumbled with the keys, not looking up. Well, sure, why? Tristan sent back. You light me up, came the answer, and Tristan's nimble fingers stopped on the keys. He stared hard at the small screen on his phone, the text message right there, waiting to see if he would send a reply. He just sat and stared till his phone turned off, unable to look up into the oh-so-blue eyes of the man who had sent it.”

“Experimenting with touch, he found he barely had to ripple a light fingertip over his sleeping lover, and Tristan would move, twisting until he was melted into Michael's embrace. Stroking Tristan's cheek got Michael a sleepy kiss. Touching Tristan's back or sliding a hand down his spine earned Michael the satisfying squeeze of arms around him. And squeezing Tristan's ass got him a fully awake and erect boy-toy looking for love.”

“Tristan started the car, pulling carefully out onto the street now that the snow had begun to fall."You seemed so happy this last quarter," P.K. prompted."I was. I fell in love.""And?""It didn't work out--isn't working out." Tristan shook his head. "I'm not ready.""Ah," said P.K. They drove the rest of the way in silence. Tristan thought then that he was lucky; Jonathon and Daniel didn't know how to value a silence, but P.K. made it comfortable. He was glad he was here with P.K. and not alone in the unbearable silence of snow.”

“it did occur to Tristan that this might not be the sanest moment of his life, but he couldn't allow lack of information or common sense to get in the way of true desperation”

“Are you gay?” asked Michael with a sigh. “Is that your truth?” “Mmmhmm,” Tristan said into the night. “Yep. Totally gay. And I'm apparently a chick too, because here we are, talking instead of screwing.”

“Okay, i admit it," Connor looked away, "I'm a little disappointed.""Excuse me?" snapped Kevin, sure he hadn't heard right. "Well, now that I'm thoroughly and diligently queer, I expected more manly love-talk, you know? Not like Pretty Baby and feeding you graped and stuff," he snorted. "Uh, you mean like, hey you bastard I don't have a beer and nobody's sucking my dick, what's wrong with this picture?""Oh," Connor climbed Kevin a little, his cock becoming interested again. "That's the spirit." "Like, I've got handcuffs and I'm not afraid to yo use them, that kind of talk?""Oh, officer, show me your nightstick.""I'm not even a cop anymore.""No but oddly enough, I am." Connor grinned, holding Kevin's hands above his head. "And you there, are looking a little guilty.""Oh man," Kevin bit his lip. "I just can't help myself, Officer Dougal. I've been such a bad, bad boy.""Oh, well then, son, I guess you'll just have to spead 'em." He slid down beneath the covers, "This will require some in depth observation, I think."Kevin's cock was getting hard again as Connor's tongue lapped all the way down on it then back up again, teasing the little slit in the top. "Yep, just as I thought, blunt instrument. I'm afraid you'll have to come with me...”

“Dear Lord,” began Randy, who paused for long enough that Tristan sneaked an eye open to look at him. His saw his mother’s cheek twitch with what he thought might be apprehension. “We are so grateful to be gathered here today with our family, and the family of our brother’s homosexual boyfriend, and our new little goth friend who has a gay dad, whatever the heck that is all about. We’d like to say we’re grateful this year for condoms, lube, and Ellen Degeneres, and for those guys on Queer Eye…”Randall Evan Phillips!” his mother shouted.”