"Shut up … God damn you," Blake shot at them.
The three shrank back.
"Hell, Bob," one whined, "you don't have to get so red ass. We were just having a little fun … weren't going to hurt him." He tried to grin. "Can't a fellow have a little fun?"
"Not when it means hurting someone. Not as long as I'm around, no one's going to have fun at someone else's expense. Now get out, get out—and if I ever catch you doing this again I'll forget I'm a gentleman."
"We weren't going to do anything … Hell …"
"I said scram … Get out of here before I kick the shit out of the whole damn bunch of you." Blake yelled between clinched teeth.
And each boy thought he would do just that. They sneered but backed away.
"Come on, Gay." Blake grinned and put an arm around Gaylord's shoulder. "Let's take a shower. Maybe that'll get rid of this stink around here."
They walked toward the shower, Blake with his arm still around Gaylord. One of the boys yelled at them, "Be careful he don't knock you up, Pretty Boy." Then, all three hurriedly ran from the gym.
"Bastards," Blake muttered without even looking back.
"Thank you, Bob," said Gaylord gratefully. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along."
"Forget it, Gay. We'll both feel better after a shower."
Gaylord thanked him again. They walked through the swinging doors together and crossed the shower's tile floor.
They stood in front of the showers and Gaylord watched Blake's thick fingers strip off his trunks, pull them down over his hips. Then they fell of their own accord to his feet, a circle of white, whiter than the sudden exposed buttocks. He watched Blake scratch his ribs and was surprised that he wasn't embarrassed.
"Damn … water's cold," Blake grinned under the heavy spray. "Come here, Gay … this will make you feel good."
Gaylord caught the extended hand and stumbled after Blake under the cool water. He flung his arms around Blake's waist. He didn't care if his hair got wet. He pressed his face against the bronze
