If by Rowena Sudbury

Sam O'Brien and Mason Jackson are long time friends and roommates with benefits. Passionate martial artists they earn a living criss crossing the country putting on exhibitions with an elite team from their dojo. One snowy night in Atlanta Mason makes a startling revelation about his habits when he and Sam are parted, and a bitter argument ensues. Sam leaves Mason reeling in a drunken stupor and finds solace with the rest of the dojo at a party. Although Sam is morose about the argument he strikes up a conversation with Shan, another martial artist. Although the encounter is one-sided on Shan's part, when Sam returns home later Mason accuses him of the worst and kicks Sam out of their shared apartment.

Uncertainty lingers, and even though Sam feels betrayed he can't get Mason out of his head. Sam stays late in the dojo craving the solitude it provides, and the release from worry that working out brings. After weeks of separation Mason finds him there one night and promises things will change. Admissions are made on both sides, and the lovers turn a corner and agree to give things another chance.

Excerpt:

MASON Jackson and Sam O'Brien were roommates. They fell in together during college, and soon discovered they both had an intense interest in the martial arts. Sam's desire and interest was ten times greater than Mason's was, but both spent many hours in the dojo honing their craft. Eventually they had each been chosen for the elite touring team and they criss-crossed the country attending meets, and showcasing their dojo in exhibitions. Most of the time they traveled together, but sometimes there were occasions when they didn't.

They always came back home to Atlanta though, and always fell back into easy companionship. They never spoke of commitments, or forever. In their rough and tumble world pleasures were hard fought, softness was something to be despised.

January had the city in a cold grip, and the men found themselves at home with time on their hands. Although they both decided that a night in would be just the ticket, Mason insisted that Sam be the one to go out and rent a movie.

Sam stepped into the room, pulled the door shut tightly behind him against the unusual flurry of snow. "Man, it's fucking COLD out there, since when does it snow in Atlanta?" He took off his coat and shook it.

Mason chuckled, and took a long pull on his beer. "'Bout once every five years," he said, his voice slightly slurred.

Sam eyed him and spread the coat out over the back of a chair, picked up the bag from the video store and approached the couch. "How many beers you had already Mase?" he asked softly as he laid the bag in Mason's lap.

"Not enough," Mason said acidly. He reached into the bag and pulled out the movie. "Pricilla, Queen of the Desert?" He snorted and looked up at Sam. "Ya fag."

Unable to hide the hurt look on his face, Sam snatched the movie out of Mason's hand and walked toward the TV. "Look who's talking," he said softly.
"Aw Christ son," Mason said and he got unsteadily to his feet. "I'm just teasin' ya." With a wicked sneer, he shuffled into the kitchen.

Sam busied himself with the DVD player, hoping they weren't going to have that argument again. Soon he heard the telltale sounds of popcorn popping in the microwave and he smiled.

Drunk as he appeared to be, Mason had not forgotten that their plans were to spend the evening at home snuggling, eating popcorn, and watching a movie.

Mason returned with the bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer. He flopped heavily on to the couch and propped his feet up. "Get the lead out O'Brien," he badgered.

"Shut up old man," Sam bantered back and he turned with a smile. He came back, sank down on the couch next to Mason and pulled him close, then reached for one of the beers.

"Get yer own," Mason teased as he settled against Sam.

"Ah," Sam said, taking the beer anyway, "Wasn't it me that went out, braved the weather and brought back the movie?"He picked up the remote and pushed a button.

"I suppose," Mason said grudgingly. He pulled his feet up on the couch next to him, and leaned against Sam's body, one hand resting on his abdomen. "But you gotta get the next round."

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