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good.”
    Davy made a call to a local Chinese place that delivered. They settled in on the couch with glasses of white wine.
    Rick tucked his feet up on the couch and faced Davy.
    “So, how come you let the wounded warrior out all by himself?”
    Davy grinned. “He’s doing much better. And I love his family, I really do, but there’s so many of them! Kurt was expecting some drama, so I thought I’d skip it. Besides, his family won’t let him overdo things.”
    “Oooh… drama? What kind?” Gossip could be fun, when it wasn’t about him. And family stuff gave him hives, so he understood Davy’s need to avoid it.
    “Kurt thinks Ian’s going to come out to his family.”
    Rick choked on his mouthful of wine. “You mean last night, when he said he was gay, we—or rather, Kurt—was the first to know?”
    “Seems so.”
    “Oh, well, that’s brave of him.” There hadn’t been a sign last night, aside from tear-reddened eyes and a delicious hint of vulnerability, that Ian had intended something so soul-shaking today. Rick had been a nervous wreck when he’d decided to come out. It had gone badly, so his nerves had certainly been justified and there’s no way he’d have been able to fuck someone into a stupor just hours prior. But then, Rick had come out when he was a teenager and his virginal self couldn’t have fucked anyone into a pleasant daze on his best day.
    “I know. It’s a terrifying prospect even when you know it will be okay.”
    “Yeah.” Rick downed the last of his Chardonnay. He already knew Davy’s coming out went fine and his own went shit and they didn’t need to rehash. It was over and done and as shitty as it had been, it had been marginally better than the rest of his adolescence.
    Davy refilled their glasses without comment and Rick took another sip.
    “This wine is pretty decent.” Rick was usually more of a margarita guy, but lately the tequila had been upsetting his stomach. Wrong side of fucking thirty-five. Wine, though, especially white, didn’t have the same effect and he should probably learn a little more about it.
    “I know. It’s actually a Wayne Gretzky wine.”
    Rick lifted a brow. “Wayne Gretzky has wines?” He wasn’t nearly as into hockey as Davy and Kurt were, but he didn’t mind it, and even those with a nodding acquaintance with the sport ought to recognize the Great One’s name. “You bought this just for the name, didn’t you?”
    “Hell yeah!” Davy grinned and clinked their glasses together. “But it’s still good. If only he’d played for Toronto.”
    Rick snorted, more than willing to get sucked into a hockey conversation. Less personal was better, and he wasn’t ready to go home and rattle around in his place. His house was home, office, and sanctuary. With a new consult coming in this week, he’d normally spend a pleasant Sunday afternoon preparing for his workweek, but he’d been too unsettled by Ian to concentrate on anything. It hadn’t occurred to him to find out if any of his friends had wanted to just hang out, so having Davy at loose ends was serendipitous. As long as he could steer conversation away from his family life or his sex life.
     
     
    I AN fidgeted in his seat. With only his parents, three of his siblings, and two significant others at the table, he was amazed the conversation never had a lull sufficient for him to broach his announcement. There weren’t even any kids eating at the table in the kitchen to create a break in the conversation.
    He wasn’t even sure what he’d eaten. If it had more flavor than sawdust, he hadn’t taken note. He could barely follow the topics of conversation.
    Someone mentioned Casa Loma. The scenic castle in the midst of downtown Toronto held some good memories of an office Christmas party a few years back, along with a risky, alcohol-inspired interlude with one of the catering staff.
    His brother Dylan had been planning his upcoming wedding to Stephanie, and finally, Ian was able to