“Ryan,” Fabian murmured later, when they were tangled up in bed together, sleepy and sated, “I have a very important question about your thighs.” “What’s that?” “What happens to them after you stop playing hockey?” Ryan paused a moment from stroking Fabian’s hair. “They’ll probably turn into regular thighs.” “That’s what I was afraid of.” “Quitting hockey doesn’t sound so great now, does it?” Ryan teased.
