A PERFECT RENDEZVOUS

BRAT

Zayn got to his feet and concentrated on brushing snow off his hair and jacket and legs, but he wasn't immune to the sudden exhilaration that came from being outdoors beneath a bright blue sky, surrounded by a winter wonderland of snow-covered pine trees and in the company of a young man who had suddenly turned playful.

Grinning, he finished brushing himself off, then advanced on Harry slowly and purposefully. "That was extremely childish," he chided.

Harry watched him, backing away, step for step. "Don't try it," Harry said, choking on a laugh, "I'm warning you—"

Zayn lunged, Harry twisted suddenly, tangling his leg around the back of Zayn's knee, jerking hard and up, and the next thing he knew, Zayn was toppling backward in slow motion again, flapping his arms like a wounded goose, trying to regain his balance. Zayn landed flat on his back with an audible thud at Harry's feet while his laughter pealed like bells through the pines.

"That," Harry informed him, enjoying himself hugely, "was partial payment for smashing snow in my face at that rest stop." Harry stood over him, waiting for him to get up, but Zayn continued to lie there, his face strangely thoughtful, his eyes focused on the bright blue sky above his head. "Aren—aren't you going to get up?" Harry chortled after a minute.

He turned his head toward Harry. "What's the point?"

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"My pride is in tatters, Harry."

A sudden memory of all his tough-guy movies flashed through Harry's mind, and he suddenly understood why Zayn was embarrassed. Harry could tell he wasn't faking it either by the way he was lying there and the strained tone in his voice. Evidently a double who looked like him had done all his fighting for him on film, Harry realized, overcome with contrition for adding to his burdens with such petty revenge. "That was stupid of me. Please get up."

Zayn squinted against the sun and said quietly, "Are you going to knock me down again?"

"No, I promise I won't. You're absolutely right, I was being childish." Harry reached out a hand to help him, bracing himself on the slim off chance that this was a trick and Zayn was going to try to jerk him off his feet, but Zayn took his assistance gratefully.

"I'm too old for this," Zayn complained, rubbing the back of his knee and brushing off snow.

"Look at that—" Harry said, anxious to make him forget his embarrassment, pointing to the snowman he'd started yesterday. Giving him a sunny smile, Harry explained, "The wind made a crater over there and the snow isn't nearly as deep. How would you feel about helping me rebuild a snowman?"

"That's fine," Zayn said and to his delighted shock, he reached for Harry's hand and held it—two lovers walking through the snow, holding hands. "What was that you did to me back there?" Zayn asked admiringly. "Was it some sort of karate move, or was it judo? I always mix up the two."

"Judo," Harry said uneasily.

"Why in hell didn't you pull that on me at that rest stop instead of running?"

Harry gave him an embarrassed look. "My brother Ted gives self-defense classes, but I thought the idea was silly in a place like Keaton and I refused to go. So, he taught that particular move to me at home a long time ago. When you were chasing me that day, I panicked and ran. I never even remembered I knew how to do that. Today, I planned to do it beforehand, which is why I was able to pull it off so easi—" Harry stopped in mid word, trying desperately, if belatedly, to spare his pride.

They'd reached the snowman and Zayn let go of his hand, looking down at him with an admiring smile. "Do you know any other fancy moves like that?"

Harry knew several more. "No, actually, I don't."