Quincy had felt it a little the night of the opening, but was more convinced of it in the last week that he and Zack had spent together. And it wasn’t just a spiritual and mental weirdness. Something was happening to him, changing, physically. No matter what Zack ate, or how much food Quincy plied him with, Zack seemed to be wasting away before Quincy’s eyes. A diet was one thing, but as lean as Zack already was, without an extra ounce of fat on his 5’9” frame, Quincy didn’t see the need for one. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Zack was on the pipe, bulimic or that he had the monster. The latter he knew wasn’t true because since Quincy’s first visit to Zack’s when they’d agreed to be exclusive, he and Zack had exchanged their most recent medical information. Zack’s last negative test had been six months before, just like Quincy’s. Bulimia was as unlikely. Zack had a healthy appetite and ate his share, but what he put in his body didn’t seem to stick. Also, he and Quincy had been in each other’s company almost constantly for the last week and Quincy never saw Zack make any of those tell-tale trips to the bathroom after a meal.
