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minutes to get down there so he didn't have to face Slayde's friends on his own. They seemed nice enough, but without the buffer of the kids, he wasn't quite sure what to expect. Of course, when he got down there, Slayde shooed him out of the kitchen with the bowl of fancy salad and the promise of a drink to come in a minute.

He put the salad on the coffee table and gave the couple a smile. "Hey."

"Hey." Travis grinned at him. "Gotta love Slayde when he's in dinner party mode."

"Frou-frou food." He shook his head and snagged a piece of salami off the meat tray, which was already on the table. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good.

God, they were something -- Joey was tiny and bouncy, white hair all spiky, while Travis was big, more relaxed, more…natural. Well, except for the rainbow colors streaked through his hair.

"So you guys have known Slayde awhile, huh?" He grabbed some cheese and another piece of salami.

"Ten years, almost." Joey grinned. "We met during a college football game in Chicago, of all places, and hit it off. Then, when he moved here to work, I came to visit, met Travis at a club, and boom. I never went home."

"You like football?" Jesus, Drake scolded himself. Don't be a jerk. Just because Joey was flamboyantly gay, didn't mean he didn't like football. Even if he did like something called Sheer Genius.

"I do. I was a cheerleader. I love football, basketball. Hockey. Hell, I'll watch tennis if there's nothing else on."

Travis groaned. Drake glanced over at the man, eyebrow raised.

"I'm not a sports fan, man. I mean, it's just not my thing. Give me a good book any day."

"Not even football?" He tried very, very hard not to be scandalized.

"It's okay."

Joey moaned, rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were the normal one!" The words were out before he could stop them and Drake closed his eyes and shut his mouth. "Oh, shit. That came out wrong, I'm sorry." He was being a rude asshole and he totally didn't mean to be. Where the fuck was Slayde?

Travis busted out in laughter. "I'm a hairdresser. I have a degree in poetry, a male lover, and season tickets to the Austin Ballet. I sort of am normal, right? Joey's the flaming queen who eats pork rinds and has a Dallas Cowboys tattoo."

Drake just stared, kind of stunned and impressed, actually. He knew he shouldn't be. The only reason he didn't know any gay people himself was because he'd never made the effort to get to know any, too worried his secret would get out. Man, he really was a jerk, wasn't he?

"You forgot that he's a jogger and you do yoga." Slayde brought the rest of the food, grinning wide.

"Neither of those things are natural," Drake noted. And that had nothing to do with people being gay.

Slayde chuckled. "No. I like playing volleyball, believe it or not. And swimming. I love the water."

"See? That's natural. Jogging, especially in Texas, is proof that they let crazy people out."

They all laughed, then Slayde opened a bottle of white wine, poured out. Drake helped himself to the salad, which he had to admit, for all its frou-frouness, was actually pretty good.

It was surprisingly easy to talk to the guys. Travis was a chess player and was in to motorcycles. Joey was more talkative, but was weirdly grounded, and funny as hell. Drake found himself laughing hard. It turned out he really liked Slayde's friends. Not as much as he liked Slayde himself of course, but he was having way more fun than he'd expected.

And if Slayde looked amazingly good and he couldn't touch the man, well, such was life.

Slayde reached over while telling a story about Maggie and how she'd finally decided Uncle Drake was okay and took his hand, squeezed his fingers.

His whole body went tight -- they couldn't do this in public. He slid his hand out from under Slayde's fingers, managing to make it slow, easy instead of jerking them away. He took a breath, and then another. These guys were gay, they wouldn't care. Except they didn't know. Nobody but Slayde knew, right?

"It's okay, honey. Me and Travis are totally safe." Joey smiled at him like some weird, gay benevolent being.

So much for nobody but Slayde knowing.

"Anyone need a drink?" Drake got up, heading for the kitchen.

He heard Slayde's voice, then heard soft steps. "You need any help?"

He shook his head. "No. I--." He wasn't even sure what it was he was supposed to be getting in here.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"They know." For a second that knowledge rose up and threatened to overwhelm him. Someone knew. Two someones. As well as Slayde. What if they said something to someone? What if? He took some deep breaths, trying to fight back the panic. He knew Joey and Travis weren't going to hurt him or make fun of him for it.

Slayde didn't answer, didn't touch him, just stood there for a second, then nodded. "They do. I told them that I was in love with you."

He jerked around at Slayde's words, his breath catching in his throat for a whole new reason. "You what?"

"I'm sorry. Joey's my best friend." Slayde's face was bright red.

"Guys." Travis looked around the kitchen door. "Joey's getting a headache. I'm going to take him over to the hotel."

Slayde turned. "But he doesn't want dessert?"

"No, honey." Joey had his bag. "I'll feel better in the morning. I swear. Call me?" Joey came over, hugged Slayde hard.

God, he felt like an asshole, driving Slayde's friends away. "I can go get out of your hair," he suggested, voice rough.

"No. No, the wine, huh? I know better. I just need a nap."

He stood there as they left, then Slayde went to the dining room, gathering the leftovers, the dishes.

Drake felt like an ass for ruining Slayde's evening, no matter what Joey'd said. And Slayde's words kept ringing in his head

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