Chris leaned one shoulder against the door. Joey's eyes met his in the mirror, over the dance of shaving cream and razor. "Do you have any idea what the hell you're doing, Chris?"

"Do any of us?" Chris held Joey's gaze as best he could, trying to ignore the impulse to look away.

"Don't fuck with him." Joey rinsed the razor in the sink's water and tapped it against the porcelain. "I mean it, I will hurt you if you fuck with him."

Chris grinned, wolf-teeth flashing and then retreating, waiting for Joey's answering smile. "Can he fuck me instead?"

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