Part 12
Gary whimpered softly, jamming his hand into his mouth to keep his cries muffled. His eyes were riveted down between his thighs, where Patrick was kneeling down. His boyfriend had decided that he wanted to try to return the favor, and so he was awkwardly sucking on Gary. Frankly, he didn’t care in the least that Patrick’s technique wasn’t polished - all he cared about was the warm, wet mouth moving on his cock so wonderfully. He shuddered, bucking a little, lost in a haze of pleasure. He was going to come soon. He could feel it.
Gary reached down to tug on Patrick’s black hair urgently. When his boyfriend released him and looked up questioningly, he said hoarsely: “I’m going to…come, Patrick.”
Patrick nodded in understanding. “I want to try swallowing,” he told Gary seriously.
“Okay, Just pull your head back so that you don’t choke.” Gary directed him.
Patrick went back to his task at hand, doing as Gary had told him and keeping just the head and a couple of inches in his mouth. He pursed his lips and sucked vigorously, and Gary bit down on his knuckles and trembled as he came. Patrick swallowed, taking in his semen. He fell back, panting, as Patrick sat back on his heels and contemplated the taste of the stuff he’d just swallowed.
“Not bad,” he muttered to himself. “You okay, Gary?”
“Yes,” he replied hoarsely. “It was really good, Patrick.”
His boyfriend smiled in triumph at his words. He sat down on the bed next to Gary, reaching out to hug him close. “This is awesome,” he remarked. “Having someone to practice on and everything. Somebody who won’t make fun of you if you…suck…at sucking,” he added with a grin.
Gary giggled weakly. He rested his head on Patrick’s shoulder. “I think that you did pretty good for your first time,” he told Patrick. “I really liked it.”
“Cool. So you won’t mind if I do it again sometime?” Patrick asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
Gary shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
Quentin leaned against Chet’s big form, a textbook open on his lap. He was somewhat distracted from reading by the loud cheering going on next to him, however. His father and his boyfriend were watching another football game together, and he’d decided to get some studying done if he could rather than bore himself by trying to watch a sport that was the equivalent of paint drying for him(except of course when it was Chet playing the game, that was a different story altogether). His mother was off working in the study, preferring that to football. Not that Quentin could blame her. She’d been a football widow for many years, and any interest that she might have originally had was long gone by now.
He snuggled in a bit, liking the feel of the big, hard body next to his. Chet silently draped an arm over his shoulder, even though he was too busy watching the screen and taking to Quentin’s dad to do anything else. He smiled to himself as he went back to reading about The Battle of the Potomac. At least it wasn’t Algebra; he hated that particular subject, and was only getting a decent grade because Chet was helping him study now.
His boyfriend had taken to coming over to his house at least three days a week to hang out with both him and his parents. He often ate dinner here too, because Quentin’s mother refused to let him leave until he’d had a nourishing meal. She knew that there was no loving mom at his house to take care of him, and wasn’t going to let him eat microwavable meals if she could help it. She’d also taken to sending a second helping of food to school with Quentin just for Chet.
Although he didn’t often express his gratitude for these and other attentions, Chet was blossoming under them like a desert flower after a good rain. He smiled more often now, and while he was still a quiet person it wasn’t the fuming silence of tightly wound anger anymore. Quentin’s perceptive mother found chores for him to do around the house to make him feel better about eating their food, and the front garden and lawn had never looked better. Apparently Chet had a real gift for gardening, a thing which rather amazed Quentin since he himself had a black thumb. He could kill any plant that he came near effortlessly.
“Touchdown!” two male voices roared, and Quentin found himself falling over because the sturdy frame he’d been resting against had suddenly lunged off the couch. He got himself upright, shaking his head silently in amusement at how excited his two favorite men were because some guy in a padded uniform had just dropped as pig skin ball behind a painted white line. He might be in love with a football player, but that didn’t mean that he understood the mentality behind being fanatical about what amounted to playing games.
He set his book aside and wandered into the kitchen to get them all something to drink and some snacks for his dad and Chet. Neither one noticed his departure, something that might have annoyed him except that he knew that neither man would notice a bomb going off in the living room right at the moment. He was opening a beer for his dad, a can of Dr. Pepper for himself, and one of root beer for Chet, when his mother came into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom,” he said with a smile. “Just stocking up on snacks for the men folk.”
“Yes, we can’t have them getting weak from hunger, not with all of the exercise they’re getting,” she replied drolly.
“Actually, the way they jump up and down whenever anyone scores a touch down is pretty good exercise,” her son replied with a grin.
She chuckled. “That’s true. They’re so cute, aren’t they? Actually, I can’t complain. Your father is always more wound up and amorous after he’s watched a football game, so I always get something from it too.”
He grimaced. “Please, Marmee - I don’t want to know about my parents’ love life,” Quentin said, holding up a staying hand.
“And just how do you think that YOU came about, Quen? That the stork delivered you? Actually, you have a football game to thank for your very existence, my child. Besides, something tells me that you benefit in the same way with Chet,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
He contrived to look innocent. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, fluffing his hair.
“Sure you don’t. Never mind; parents don’t really want to know that much about their children’s love lives either,” she said as she went over to retrieve a glass from the cupboard. “As long as we know you’re being safe and that you’re happy, everything else is private.”
He hugged her. “I know that. Which is why I believe that I have the very best parents in the whole world,” he told her.
She patted his cheek affectionately. “And don’t you forget that, my son,” she said mock-sternly.
“As if I could,” he replied cheerfully.
“Hey, guys,” Quentin said to the little gathering. Everybody else looked at him questioningly.
Quentin was sitting on a booth next to Chet at McDonald’s, with Gary and Patrick across from them and Corey and Amanda sitting at a small table nearby. His friends had cautiously accepted Chet into their little group now that he’d stopped bullying people - and also because he was dating Quentin. “What is it, Quen?” Gary asked.
“Well, I have a martial arts tournament coming up soon, and I wanted to invite everybody to come see me compete,” Quentin explained.
Corey perked up at this news. “Oh, man, I’d love to see that!” he cried eagerly. He was a huge aficionado of kung fu films.
Quentin smiled at him affectionately. “Everybody’s welcome - I’ll get tickets for all of you if you want to come,” he said. He glance sideways at his boyfriend. “Are you coming too, Chet?”
A nod. “I’d like to be there when you kick somebody else’s ass besides mine,” He said dryly, making laughter explode around him.
Quentin grinned cheekily at him, squeezing his knee in a decidedly naughty manner under the table at the same time. “Yes, but it won’t be as much fun taking on a stranger,” he remarked with dancing eyes.
Gary sat next to his boyfriend in the bleachers inside of the arena where Quentin’s martial arts tournament was taking place. All of them had come to support their friend(and see lots of cool martial arts, of course), and Chet was the large anchor to their little line of people. Quentin hadn’t competed yet, because there were a lot of contestants. Apparently there were dozens of different types of martial arts competitions taking place today, from karate and judo to tae kwon do and kick boxing. It was all awesome and fun to watch, from the weapons displays to the various bouts between the competitors.
Quentin had left them in the main entrance to go get ready. That had been a couple of hours ago. The announcer had said that the tae kwon do competitions were starting, so he knew that they’d see Quentin soon. He couldn’t wait to see his friend in action, and his hand squeezed Patrick’s in excitement when the announcer finally called both Quentin’s name and the name of the person taking him on in his first bout.
Down on the mats, Quentin walked out and went before the judges, bowing low to them respectfully. He was wearing a white gi with a black collar and black stripes on the shoulders, as well as his black belt. His soft shoes were white with more black stripes on them. Except for his blue hair, he looked as normal as Gary had ever seen him. He’d removed his piercings and wasn’t wearing any make-up. His face looked scrubbed and somehow incomplete this way. He began to run through a series of katas, performing them for the judges. He was fluid and graceful, and it seemed to a dazzled Gary that his friend was dancing down there on the mats. Hard to remember that this was a deadly form of martial arts.
Quentin finished his routine with another bow, then stepped away so that his opponent could show his form to the judges before they began their bout. Gary wanted to clap, but refrained when nobody else in the stands did. When the other boy had finished, he and Quentin stepped into the middle of the mats and faced each other. They bowed to each other, then fell into fighting stances.
It happened so quickly - Gary blinked in astonishment as the two boys came at each other. They were both so fast that it was impossible to follow what was happening with the untrained eye. They punched and kicked at each other, or blocked their opposite’s punches and kicks. They circled around each other swiftly, then struck like serpents again. It was astonishing and breath-taking.
It was over as quickly as it had begun. Quentin did something in a blur of motion, and his opponent ended up on the mat with Quentin standing over him. He’d won! Gary surged to his feet, not caring if anyone else clapped this time. But many others were on the feet now as well, and Corey was yelling and waving his first into the air as Quentin bowed again to his opponent, then turned to face he crowd. He bowed for a last time, acknowledging their cheering. His face was serious and calm, but his eyes smiled up at them all. And his gaze found a certain pair of caramel-colored eyes and locked onto them, as Chet smiled and nodded approvingly down at him.
Quentin was riding a high from his win at the tournament when he went to school on Monday. He had another little trophy for his display case ,a bit more cash for his growing fund, and the memories of the approval in the faces of his friends and his boyfriend to give him that special glow. Well, that and the victory sex that Chet had rewarded him with afterward…
He hummed happily to himself as he strolled along toward the locker rooms to pick up Chet after football practice. He’d already finished his column for the newspaper, a frothy confection about what clothes were in style right now. He was looking forward to an evening at home with his parents and his boyfriend, and then afterward when he took Chet home…and then Chet took him…he grinned to himself, his eyes sparkling.
He heard voices speaking nearby, and slowed his steps. They sounded like they were around the corner of the building, and both were distinctly male. Most likely several of Chet’s fellow football players. It wasn’t that Quentin was afraid of them, of course; but he didn’t want to get into an argument with them. He was only supposed to use his martial arts skills to defend himself, and if he could avoid starting something then he wouldn’t have to. So he sighed silently and came to a halt, preparing to wait right here until Chet came to him rather than approach the two speakers.
Idly he listened to what the two boys were saying, mostly profanity-laced bragging about their sexual conquests. Quentin rolled his eyes. If these two actually got laid this much, how would they ever have time to play football or get their schoolwork done? But then one of them said something that made his ears perk up. “I still can’t believe that Rollins is a fag,” one boy said.
“Yeah, it don’t make sense. Fucking that little girlie faggot when he can get any pussy that he wants? That’s nuts.”
Quentin smiled wickedly. But then the first speaker went on: “I don’t think he’s a total homo, though.”
“Why do you say that?” the other boy asked.
“Cause I heard Melinda Sykes telling Jenny Routh that she fucked Rollins in the locker room last week while his little homo boyfriend was doing his thing for the newspaper,” the first boy explained. “Apparently he gave it to her good. I guess he fucks her too so that he doesn’t turn totally gay. I can’t blame him - she gives great head.”
“Yeah,” the other boy replied as Quentin just stood there in stunned shock, “But I can see why he’d want to get a gay guy to suck him off, too. Apparently they’re even better at it than girls. Because they get so much practice,” he added in disgust. “But I don’t care how good the head is, I wouldn’t let a guy touch my dick.”
“Me, either,” agreed the other speaker. “Hey, let’s go and see if the cheerleaders are still practicing. Sometimes you can see up their skirts when they do their throws.”
The two speakers moved off, leaving Quentin still standing there. He felt sick. If those boys had known that he was standing here, he wouldn’t have believed what they’d just said for even a second. But they hadn’t been aware of his presence - they’d simply been gossiping about something they’d heard. A girl had said that Chet had had sex with her in the locker room? While he was busy writing his column for the newspaper? He wanted to think that it couldn’t be true, but what if Chet was doing just what that one boy had said and was trying not to go entirely gay so that he could go back to being a heterosexual later on? Fucking girls would keep him straddling the fence, even if he was openly dating Quentin. And he was a randy teenage boy. They weren’t particularly known for their faithfulness.
He lifted a hand to his mouth as he tried to get his scattered thoughts into some semblance of order. But all he could do was imagine Chet with some slutty girl, and those images wouldn’t be banished no matter how hard he tried. Anguish ripped through him, and he gritted his teeth to keep himself form sobbing like a little girl. He felt like he’d been stabbed through the heart with a dull knife.
“Quen?” his eyes jerked up, and he saw his boyfriend standing there wearing his football uniform and looking puzzled. “Are you okay?”
He SO wasn’t! He lowered his hand so that he could speak clearly. “Not really,” he said in an eerily calm voice that he recognized dimly as him still being in s state of shock. “I just heard two of your fellow players talking about you.”
Chet’s brows gathered together. “Me?” he repeated warily. “What did they say?”
“Oh, not much,” he said in a falsely bright tone of voice. “They just said that you were fucking a girl named Melinda Sykes even though you’re going out with me. That you had sex with her in the locker room last week while I was doing my column for the newspaper.”
Chet’s mouth opened. “What?” he said. “Why the hell would they say that?”
“Well, because one of them happened to overheard the girl herself telling a friend about it,” Quentin told him. “So from the horse’s mouth, I guess. What happened, Chet? I’m not enough for you? Or do you hope to start passing as a straight guy again when you go to college, so you figured you’d keep your…hand…in? Is that it?”
Chet’s lips tightened. “So you believe that they said?” he demanded.
Quentin replied tightly: “I don’t want to, believe me. I really don’t. So you’re telling me that you’ve never had sex with this girl Melinda Sykes?”
Silence. Then: “No, I can’t tell you that. I’ve had sex with her,” Chet replied grimly.
Quentin nearly staggered at his words. “I-I see,” he said in a wavering voice. “I guess that’s it, then? It was fun while it lasted, anyway.”
“Quen…” Chet began.
He held up a hand. “Please don’t try to come up with some stupid excuse for why you did it, Chet,” he said. “I really don’t want to hear it right now. Have fun with your girlfriend,” he whirled around and strode away, hearing Chet calling after him but not looking back. He just couldn’t bear this! His heart was breaking. Tears began to track down his face as he made it to his car and got in behind the wheel, and he could hardly see as he started the car and drove away out of the parking lot.
Janet Yardsley came to the closed door of her son’s room, and heard soft sounds from within that made her feel very anxious. It sounded like Quentin was crying in there - and her son almost never cried. It had to be something very bad to cause this. She tried the handle, and was relieved to find that it wasn’t locked. She eased it open, seeing her child curled up on his bed in a fetal ball. His shoulders were heaving as he wept, and Janet felt her heart twist as she walked over very softly and sat down on the bed next to him. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm.
“Quen? Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
He lifted his tear-stained face from his bedspread. “Mom,” he choked. He sat up slowly, wiping at his face ineffectually.
“What is it, Quen?” she asked in concern.
He sniffled, looking so miserable that her heart went out to him. “I heard some boys talking at school today,” he told her. “About Chet.”
Uh oh. Janet thought worriedly. Not a good start. And it only got worse when her son told her about the conversation that he’d overheard. “And Chet confirmed this for you?” she asked when he was done, her heart sinking in her breast.
“Yeah. He said that he’d had sex with her,” Quentin said softly, and the pain on his face smote her.
Janet engulfed him in a tight hug. “Oh, baby, I‘m so sorry,” she whispered. “This is terrible. I really liked him.”
“So did I!” her son wailed, burying his face in her shirt and beginning to cry all over again.
She stroked his blue hair comfortingly. “Of course you did,” she told him. “In fact, you’re in love with him. And that’s what really makes this so sad.”
He pulled back to look art her face. “How did you know that?” he whispered.
She smiled crookedly. “That you’re in love with him? How could I not know it? It’s pretty obvious.”
“God, I feel like an idiot,” he swabbed at his face again, but she pushed his hand away and went to retrieve a package of tissues from his desk.
“You’re not an idiot for falling in love,” Janet told her son stoutly. “Chet’s the idiot for cheating on someone as wonderful as you.” she kissed his forehead as he scrubbed at his face with the tissues.
“Thanks, Mom.” he hugged her tightly. “I wish this didn’t hurt so much,” he said into her hair.
“First love is often hard, especially when you get your first heartbreak at the same time,” she replied, patting his back. “All I can say is that it will get better over time. I know that’s not comforting now, but…”
“I know,” he pulled back and gave her a wavering smile. “I’ll survive.”
She lifted a hand and stroked his cheek. “Yes, you will. Now I’m going to get you some aspirin and chamomile tea. I’m sure you have a headache by now.”
He nodded slightly. She rose up off the bed and went out into the hallway, sighing sadly. Her son had been so very happy these last few months with Chet - curse that boy for breaking her precious son’s heart! If he wasn’t so big, she’d send Frank to kick his ass. No one hurt her son and got away with it!
The doorbell rang. Janet stopped and glanced at it, then went to answer it reluctantly. To her shock, the person standing on her porch was none other than Chet Rollins! Janet stood there, flabbergasted, staring up at him. “Mrs. Yardsley,” he began(smart enough to know not to call her Janet as she’d urged him to, not now). “Can I talk to Quentin? Please?”
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “And just why should I let you do that?” she asked in a voice that should have removed layers of his skin.
“Because I didn’t do what he thinks that I did,” Chet began desperately. “And I have proof.”
Janet blinked. “Oh?” she said, her voice a little hopeful.
He nodded. “Yes. Please, I’ve got to talk to him!”
Janet decided to go with her instincts and stepped back away from the door. “Come in. But if you hurt him again…” she said warningly. “You will be very sorry, Chet.”
He flinched. “All right.” he walked away toward Quentin’s bedroom, and Janet watched him go with mingled hope and anxiety in her eyes.
Chet walked down the hallway and stood in front of the door to Quentin’s room. Instead of knocking, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. He didn’t want to have to argue with his boyfriend about whether he could come in or not. Inside, he saw Quentin curled up on the bed in a fetal position, his face buried in the bedcover. He hardened his heart against the misery in the curled up ball that was his boyfriend, because he hadn’t done anything wrong and he was going to prove that to Quentin no matter what.
“Quen,” he said aloud.
Quentin’s head jerked up, his reddened and swollen eyes widening when he saw Chet standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?!” he yelped.
“I came to talk to you. To tell you that you misunderstood me this afternoon,” Chet said stonily. “And I have proof that I didn’t fuck that bitch Melinda in the locker room like she says I did.”
Quentin uncurled himself, glaring a little. “Are you saying that you’ve never had sex with her?!” he demanded incredulously. “Because you said that you had!”
“Yes, I have slept with her,” Chet agreed. “Just not recently. We used to hook up sometimes. We didn’t actually date because she’d sleep with anyone who asked. I did have sex with her once in awhile - but I haven’t fucked her since I got together with you.”
Quentin’s blue eyes were searching his face. “Really?” he asked, looking like he wanted to believe it but couldn’t quite bring himself to.
Chet nodded grimly. “And I have proof,” he added. He pulled out a Blackberry from his pocket.
Quentin stared at it. “Where did you get that?” he asked in bewilderment. “You don’t even have a cell phone.”
“I borrowed it from Gary,” Chet told him, startling him. “How do I…?” he pushed some buttons on the touch screen, muttering to himself. Quentin had to fight back a giggle, in spite of the situation. Chet just looked so frustrated with all of that technology…
“There,” Chet said in satisfaction, and walked over to hand him the Blackberry. “Watch this.”
Quentin took it and stared at the screen. A video was playing on the screen of a girl’s face. She had a hard expression and wore far too much make-up, and she was glaring at someone off camera. “I’m not saying anything,” she snapped as the camera wavered a bit in the grip of whoever was holding it.
“Yes, you are,” Quentin heard Chet’s grim voice say. “Because if you don’t, I’ll make you wish you had.”
The threat in his voice was clear, and something that she saw made the girl blanch pale with fear. “Fine!” she snarled. “So I made up that story about you fucking me in the locker room! I’d think you’d be happy about that, since it means that you’re not a total fag. Which you are!” she added defiantly.
“Have we had sex since I started dating Quentin?” Chet said remorselessly.
She growled in disgust. “No! You like that queer better than me! There, are you happy, gay boy?”
“Almost. One more question. Has any other girl said that I slept with her since I got together with Quentin? A girl who wasn’t lying?”
The girl’s lip curled in disgusted loathing. “No, pussy boy. I guess you’re one hundred per cent fag now.”
“Good,” Chet replied, and the camera went black.
Quentin’s fingers were shaking as he looked mutely up at his boyfriend.
Chet said stonily: “You see? And if you’d listened to me instead of running off…”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m really sorry, Chet,” Quentin said, bowing his head a little. “I just overreacted.”
Silence. Then: “Why did you overreact? That’s not like you,” Chet said over his head.
“I think…I think its because I just keep waiting for you to change your mind,” he said softly after a moment. “To decide that you don’t want to be gay anymore - or at least that you want to go back to pretending to be a straight guy. And I couldn’t handle that.”
The bed creaked as Chet sat down beside him. “Its not like I could go back into the closet around here, anyway,” he pointed out. “Is that the only reason that you reacted that way?”
Quentin shook his blue head. He took a deep breath, and looked up into his boyfriend’s questioning eyes. “I just keep expecting it to end,” he began. “Because we’re both teenagers, and we’re not supposed to be this serious about each other. Right? Sex, sure. But…” he bit at his lip a little, then decided to go for broke. “But not love,” he continued on a near thread of sound.
Chet’s eyes widened, and a look of shock passed over his face. Quentin felt like laughing again, but instead he said: “I don’t know about you, big man, but I am totally in love with you. Head over heels. Totally gone. And I guess I got scared when heard those boys talking about you. Scared that you’re just playing with me. Having a good time. You’re a teenage boy, after all…”
“And so are you,” Chet growled. “What does that have to do with anything?” he paused, then continued tightly: “I can’t…say it right now. I don’t really know how I feel about you yet…”
“I understand. Its okay,” Quentin told him hurriedly. “I didn’t say it just to make you say it too. I was just explaining why I overreacted. But it’s the truth, big man. I’ve never felt this way about anybody else before this.”
The faintest traces of a smile flickered over Chet’s mouth as he put his arm around Quentin. “If that’s so, next time you’ll talk to me and won’t make assumptions,” he said. “Or I’ll spank you until you can’t sit down anymore.”
Quentin’s breath caught in his throat. “Promise?” he said, making Chet growl out a laugh just before he kissed Quentin roughly.
Janet looked up as Chet appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “I came to get some ibuprofen and damp cloth for Quen,” he explained to her. “He’s got a headache and his eyes are all swollen.”
She nodded. “How did it go?” she asked him, waiting tensely for his answer.
“We talked,” he replied. “And I showed him the proof I had that I didn’t sleep with that girl. Not since we’ve been together, anyway. He believes me.”
She relaxed, smiling. “That’s great,” she said enthusiastically as she bustled around getting the bottle of ibuprofen, a glass of water, and a cloth that she ran under warm water and then wrung out slightly. “When Quen told me what happened, I was shocked. You just don’t seem like the type of boy who’d do something like that,” she went on as she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I don’t?” he said, looking surprised.
Janet nodded. “That’s right. You don’t. I’m glad it was a misunderstanding. I take it Quen reacted badly for some reason?”
He nodded. “He…said that he keeps expecting this thing we have to end…because…he loves me…” he said incredulously, sounding amazed.
Janet’s lips twitched a bit, but her face was serious when she turned around and brought the things over to him. “Yes, I knew that,” she told him. “Quen’s never had a real boyfriend before you. When he brought you home to meet us, I knew that he was far gone over you.”
He looked uneasy and uncomfortable. “Nobody’s ever…said that to me before,” he half-whispered.
Janet blinked, and a look of compassion swept over her face. “No one? Not even your parents?” she asked incredulously.
He shook his head. She sighed. “Oh, Chet. That’s terrible. But unfortunately, there are lots of people in this world who are like that - people who don’t love anyone, not even themselves. But its always their children who are hurt by their inability to love, because kids aren’t old enough to know that the lack is in their parents, not in themselves. You never did anything wrong,” she added firmly, meeting his eyes, “Your parents were simply incapable of loving anyone.”
He stared at her. “But..” he began hoarsely.
She shook her head. “No ‘buts’,” she replied. “If you weren’t an entirely lovable person, do you think that Frank and I would have come to see you as our second son?”
He stood there mutely, just staring down at her. Janet smiled up at him. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” she said gently. “But you’ll manage. Just give it time. And now, go and take care of Quen. You’ll be staying for dinner,” she went on as she waved him out of the kitchen briskly.
He went, looking rather wild-eyed. Janet gave in to her chuckles after he’d gone, feeling acutely relieved as she went back to her cooking. Chet was adorable, she mused to herself. She was sincerely glad that Quentin had made a mistake, that Chet hadn’t cheated on him after all. It would have broken her heart if it had been true, just as it would have broken her son’s.
Quentin blinked up at him when Chet walked back into his bedroom with the cloth and the ibuprofen in hand. He walked over and handed them to his boyfriend. “Take these,” he said abruptly.
“Are you okay, big man?” Quentin asked hoarsely.
He shrugged, looking a bit tense. “I guess so,” he said, sounding like he wasn’t quite sure yet.
“Did Mom say something to you?” Quentin asked shrewdly as he popped the cap on the ibuprofen bottle and shook two of them out onto his palm.
Chet twitched. “Yeah,” he replied, but refused to say anything else.
Quentin’s lips twitched. “I see. Anyway, did she invite you over for dinner?” he asked as he put the two pills into his mouth and sipped at the glass of water.
Chet nodded. Quentin looked pleased. He lay down flat on his bed and folded the cloth over his eyes. “Good,” he said. “I’m going to take a nap; would you wake me up when its time to eat?”
“Sure,” he heard Chet say, then he smiled as fingers ghosted over his cheek lightly. He heard footsteps receding, and his bedroom door shutting quietly behind Chet.
Quentin lay there knowing how very lucky he was - Chet could have just decided that he wasn’t worth the drama and kicked him to the curb. Especially when he hadn’t done what Quentin had thought he had after all. He felt terrible about overreacting, but he could see clearly why he’d done so. Being in love like this could sometimes be awfully hard. But he knew that he wouldn’t trade this state for anything else in the whole world. Because while it could be hard, being in love was also the best damn thing in the entire world, too. He vowed silently to never react that way with Chet again, to always give his boyfriend time to talk to him and explain. He knew what kind of person that Chet was, and he should have known that what those boys had been talking about was completely out of character for him. His only excuse, besides his fears about losing Chet back to the straight world, was the fact that they hadn’t been going out that long. He didn’t quite know everything about Chet yet. But he would always go with his instincts from now on, because they knew much better than his brain that Chet Rollins was an amazing guy. And that he was very, very lucky indeed to have someone like him in his life.
“Whee!” Quentin happily tossed his cap into the air, deftly catching it again as his boyfriend gave him a faintly amused look. “What?” he asked innocently over the roar of the other celebrating students. “I’m just happy to be out of school!”
Chet shrugged, still smiling a bit. He knew that Quentin wasn’t a scholar by any means, although he had quite a bit of native intelligence. Quentin turned and hugged Gary tightly on his left side. “I’m going to miss you, Gary,” he said into the smaller boy’s ear.
Gary nodded, blinking back a few tears. While he was looking forward to college, he was also going to miss both Quentin and Corey. Corey was going back East to the same college as Amanda, and who knew what Quentin planned to do…but at least he’d be attending the same college as Patrick. His boyfriend had a baseball scholarship to UCLA, and he’d already been accepted into their engineering program, which was very, very good. He didn’t know if his relationship with Patrick would last, but it would be nice to find out one way or the other. They were already planning to get an apartment together rather than live on campus.
Quentin bounced onward and embraced in turn Patrick, Corey, and Amanda. “Remember, after party at my house!” he sang out to them.
“We’ll be there,” Corey yelled, grinning. Amanda nodded. Quentin gave them a thumbs up sign and toddled back to Chet’s side. He didn’t want to stray far from his boyfriend, because he knew that Chet wasn’t a very happy camper right now. His drunken mother had shown up for the graduation ceremony totally smashed, and had caused a scene earlier when she’d started yelling at her son at the top of her lungs from the stands where the families were sitting. Quentin was embarrassed for him, and wished heartily that his martial arts allowed him to hit certain people. While he wasn’t in favor of hitting women, he’d make an exception in this case…
“Come on, big man!” he yelled to Chet. “Mom and Dad are waiting for us!”
Chet nodded and followed him, not bothering to look around for his lush of as mother in the crowd. He’d be leaving for college in less than three months, and he’d never have to see her again if he didn’t want to. They found Janet and Frank waiting for them by the car in the parking lot, and Janet squealed and hugged both boys. “I’m so proud of both of you!” she gushed.
“Especially me, right, Mom?” Quentin teased. “Bet you weren’t really sure if I’d make it. Unlike Chet here, who’s just chock full of brains…among other things…” he remarked slyly.
She sniffed. “I knew you’d make it, Quen,” she replied. ‘I know you didn’t like school, but you always worked hard at it anyway.”
He giggled. “But you have to admit that Chet’s smarter than me,” he told her merrily.
“I’m not sure that he’s smarter, exactly…” she said, looking the football player over. “Maybe just a better student? If you see what I mean.”
“No, he’s smarter. I admit it,” Quentin said gaily, twining his arm through Chet’s. “I don’t mind. I have other talents, as I’m sure he’d agree…” he shot a teasing sideways look at his boyfriend, who shook his head.
“Yeah. You can drive a person nuts in a record length of time,” he agreed dryly. Janet and Frank laughed.
Quentin pretended to pout. “Bad man. Anyway, let’s go home and get ready for the party. I still have to finish the hors d’oeuvres.”
Chet gave him a sardonic look, while Janet grinned. “Okay, let’s go. We’ll see you boys there.” she waved as she and her husband headed for their car.
Quentin set his mortarboard at a rakish angle atop his head. “Let’s hit it, big man,” he said. Chet grunted and followed him to his car.
Much later, after the party had finally petered out and all of their friends had left, Chet and Quentin lay naked and entwined on his bed. Janet and Frank had tactfully gone out to dinner and had left the two boys to celebrate their graduation in peace, and of course a big part of that was screwing like rabid weasels. Quentin had draped himself atop Chet like a blanket, and was kissing the sweat-limned skin of his shoulder. “Mmm, graduation sex is good,” he said throatily.
Chet said nothing, although his hand caressed idly down Quentin’s naked back. After a moment’s contented silence, Quentin sighed. “We have to talk, big man,” he said reluctantly.
“About what?” Chet asked.
Quentin sat up, running a hand through his blue hair. “About what happens now,” he replied simply. “Now that we’ve graduated. You’re going to college, obviously; but I still don’t think that its for me. And I don’t want to waste my time and money on something I really don’t want to do.”
Chet folded his arms behind his head. “I agree,” he said calmly.
Quentin eyed him. “So…where does that leave us?” he asked rather tightly, not sure that he liked Chet’s casual attitude toward their potential future.
The football player surprised him by smiling slightly. “Well, I’ll be going to college in the Fall,” he said. “I didn’t tell you yet, but I got a football scholarship from UCBerkeley. it’s a great school, and its only half an hours’ drive from San Francisco. So I decided that’s where I’ll be going. And you…” he looked up at his boyfriend, “Can come with me if you want to. You’ve said before that you wanted to go to either New York or California when you graduated from high school.”
Quentin felt a wriggle of excitement start up in his belly. “San Fran? God, I’ve always wanted to go there! Its like our spiritual home,” he said eagerly.
Chet nodded. “I figured that we could get a place together instead of me living on campus,” he explained. “I don’t mind making the drive up to the university every day.”
To be able to live with Chet in a beautiful city like San Francisco, surrounded by so many brothers and sisters in spirit… he liked the sound of that. “But that still doesn’t help me to know what I want to do with my life,” he said aloud. “Besides be with you, that is. I definitely know I want that,” he added, his blue eyes full of emotion as he glanced down into Chet’s face. “But I don’t know about anything else.”
“Sure you do,” his boyfriend replied, taking him by surprise yet again. “You told me once that you were thinking about opening a clothing boutique. I think you should do that. Not right away, of course…but there are plenty of good colleges in and around San Francisco where you could take small business classes. You don’t need a degree, you just need to know how to run a business properly. And with your sense of style, I’d bet you could get a job at a clothing store somewhere in San Fran, especially in the Castro District,” he explained. “So you could get some real life experience running a clothing store before you open your own.”
Quentin’s mouth opened as he stared down at Chet. His boyfriend had not only remembered his one casual comment about opening a clothing boutique, he thought it was a good enough idea to make suggestions for concrete plans about opening one?! “Do you really think,” he said slowly, “That it would be a good idea? I mean, you’ve laughed at the way I dress before, big man. You know you have.”
Chet shrugged. “Just because I think that your way of dressing is very…bright,” he said, “Doesn’t mean that everybody would. I know that there are plenty of gay guys out there who like to be…colorful, just like you. You could cater to them. You could even sell clothes over the internet eventually. You’ve got drive and a unique sense of style. I know you can do this if you want to.”
Quentin felt a warmth in the pit of his stomach. Chet’s faith in him warmed him right down to his toes. “I think that you’re right,” he said, reaching out to run his hand over Chet’s broad chest lovingly. “I think I’d like owning my own clothing store. The least I can do is give it a try, right? And if I get a job in one, that’ll help me decide if its for me or not. I like it!” he declared, patting Chet’s chest. “Thanks, big man.”
Chet smiled and reached up to pull him close. “I want you to be happy,” he said simply. “Because being with you and your family, I’ve been happy for the first time in my entire life. I’m just returning the favor,” his fingers stroked through Quentin’s blue hair tenderly.
He felt a prickle of tears behind his eyes. “I’m glad,” he murmured, kissing Chet’s lips lightly. “Because I want you to be happy too, big man. I think you really deserve it, after all the crap you’ve gone through. I love you,” he added, saying something that he’d been telling Chet almost every day since the first time he’d said it.
Silence. Then Chet said gravely: “I wasn’t sure what love was for a long time. Nobody ever told me that growing up, or showed me it either. When you first said it to me, I wasn’t sure if you weren’t just fooling yourself into thinking that you were in love with me. I mean…who would love me?”
“Oh, Chet,” he whispered in sympathy, but the football player laid a finger over his lips to quiet him down.
“I’ve thought about it for a long time,” he went on quietly. “And I finally came to realize that I do believe that love exists. Because of you, Quen. Because of you and your parents. You all taught me what it is. And now I know that I love you, too,” he said.
Quentin drew in a shuddering breath at this confession. “Chet. You don’t have to worry about me being happy,” he said softly. “Because you just made me happier than I have ever been in my entire life.”
He buried his face in Chet’s neck, and his boyfriend cupped his blue head and held him close. “So. San Francisco,” Quentin said after awhile. “Just you and me, hmm?”
“That’s right,” Chet agreed. “Just you and me.”
The End
Gary whimpered softly, jamming his hand into his mouth to keep his cries muffled. His eyes were riveted down between his thighs, where Patrick was kneeling down. His boyfriend had decided that he wanted to try to return the favor, and so he was awkwardly sucking on Gary. Frankly, he didn’t care in the least that Patrick’s technique wasn’t polished - all he cared about was the warm, wet mouth moving on his cock so wonderfully. He shuddered, bucking a little, lost in a haze of pleasure. He was going to come soon. He could feel it.
Gary reached down to tug on Patrick’s black hair urgently. When his boyfriend released him and looked up questioningly, he said hoarsely: “I’m going to…come, Patrick.”
Patrick nodded in understanding. “I want to try swallowing,” he told Gary seriously.
“Okay, Just pull your head back so that you don’t choke.” Gary directed him.
Patrick went back to his task at hand, doing as Gary had told him and keeping just the head and a couple of inches in his mouth. He pursed his lips and sucked vigorously, and Gary bit down on his knuckles and trembled as he came. Patrick swallowed, taking in his semen. He fell back, panting, as Patrick sat back on his heels and contemplated the taste of the stuff he’d just swallowed.
“Not bad,” he muttered to himself. “You okay, Gary?”
“Yes,” he replied hoarsely. “It was really good, Patrick.”
His boyfriend smiled in triumph at his words. He sat down on the bed next to Gary, reaching out to hug him close. “This is awesome,” he remarked. “Having someone to practice on and everything. Somebody who won’t make fun of you if you…suck…at sucking,” he added with a grin.
Gary giggled weakly. He rested his head on Patrick’s shoulder. “I think that you did pretty good for your first time,” he told Patrick. “I really liked it.”
“Cool. So you won’t mind if I do it again sometime?” Patrick asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
Gary shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
Quentin leaned against Chet’s big form, a textbook open on his lap. He was somewhat distracted from reading by the loud cheering going on next to him, however. His father and his boyfriend were watching another football game together, and he’d decided to get some studying done if he could rather than bore himself by trying to watch a sport that was the equivalent of paint drying for him(except of course when it was Chet playing the game, that was a different story altogether). His mother was off working in the study, preferring that to football. Not that Quentin could blame her. She’d been a football widow for many years, and any interest that she might have originally had was long gone by now.
He snuggled in a bit, liking the feel of the big, hard body next to his. Chet silently draped an arm over his shoulder, even though he was too busy watching the screen and taking to Quentin’s dad to do anything else. He smiled to himself as he went back to reading about The Battle of the Potomac. At least it wasn’t Algebra; he hated that particular subject, and was only getting a decent grade because Chet was helping him study now.
His boyfriend had taken to coming over to his house at least three days a week to hang out with both him and his parents. He often ate dinner here too, because Quentin’s mother refused to let him leave until he’d had a nourishing meal. She knew that there was no loving mom at his house to take care of him, and wasn’t going to let him eat microwavable meals if she could help it. She’d also taken to sending a second helping of food to school with Quentin just for Chet.
Although he didn’t often express his gratitude for these and other attentions, Chet was blossoming under them like a desert flower after a good rain. He smiled more often now, and while he was still a quiet person it wasn’t the fuming silence of tightly wound anger anymore. Quentin’s perceptive mother found chores for him to do around the house to make him feel better about eating their food, and the front garden and lawn had never looked better. Apparently Chet had a real gift for gardening, a thing which rather amazed Quentin since he himself had a black thumb. He could kill any plant that he came near effortlessly.
“Touchdown!” two male voices roared, and Quentin found himself falling over because the sturdy frame he’d been resting against had suddenly lunged off the couch. He got himself upright, shaking his head silently in amusement at how excited his two favorite men were because some guy in a padded uniform had just dropped as pig skin ball behind a painted white line. He might be in love with a football player, but that didn’t mean that he understood the mentality behind being fanatical about what amounted to playing games.
He set his book aside and wandered into the kitchen to get them all something to drink and some snacks for his dad and Chet. Neither one noticed his departure, something that might have annoyed him except that he knew that neither man would notice a bomb going off in the living room right at the moment. He was opening a beer for his dad, a can of Dr. Pepper for himself, and one of root beer for Chet, when his mother came into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom,” he said with a smile. “Just stocking up on snacks for the men folk.”
“Yes, we can’t have them getting weak from hunger, not with all of the exercise they’re getting,” she replied drolly.
“Actually, the way they jump up and down whenever anyone scores a touch down is pretty good exercise,” her son replied with a grin.
She chuckled. “That’s true. They’re so cute, aren’t they? Actually, I can’t complain. Your father is always more wound up and amorous after he’s watched a football game, so I always get something from it too.”
He grimaced. “Please, Marmee - I don’t want to know about my parents’ love life,” Quentin said, holding up a staying hand.
“And just how do you think that YOU came about, Quen? That the stork delivered you? Actually, you have a football game to thank for your very existence, my child. Besides, something tells me that you benefit in the same way with Chet,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
He contrived to look innocent. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, fluffing his hair.
“Sure you don’t. Never mind; parents don’t really want to know that much about their children’s love lives either,” she said as she went over to retrieve a glass from the cupboard. “As long as we know you’re being safe and that you’re happy, everything else is private.”
He hugged her. “I know that. Which is why I believe that I have the very best parents in the whole world,” he told her.
She patted his cheek affectionately. “And don’t you forget that, my son,” she said mock-sternly.
“As if I could,” he replied cheerfully.
“Hey, guys,” Quentin said to the little gathering. Everybody else looked at him questioningly.
Quentin was sitting on a booth next to Chet at McDonald’s, with Gary and Patrick across from them and Corey and Amanda sitting at a small table nearby. His friends had cautiously accepted Chet into their little group now that he’d stopped bullying people - and also because he was dating Quentin. “What is it, Quen?” Gary asked.
“Well, I have a martial arts tournament coming up soon, and I wanted to invite everybody to come see me compete,” Quentin explained.
Corey perked up at this news. “Oh, man, I’d love to see that!” he cried eagerly. He was a huge aficionado of kung fu films.
Quentin smiled at him affectionately. “Everybody’s welcome - I’ll get tickets for all of you if you want to come,” he said. He glance sideways at his boyfriend. “Are you coming too, Chet?”
A nod. “I’d like to be there when you kick somebody else’s ass besides mine,” He said dryly, making laughter explode around him.
Quentin grinned cheekily at him, squeezing his knee in a decidedly naughty manner under the table at the same time. “Yes, but it won’t be as much fun taking on a stranger,” he remarked with dancing eyes.
Gary sat next to his boyfriend in the bleachers inside of the arena where Quentin’s martial arts tournament was taking place. All of them had come to support their friend(and see lots of cool martial arts, of course), and Chet was the large anchor to their little line of people. Quentin hadn’t competed yet, because there were a lot of contestants. Apparently there were dozens of different types of martial arts competitions taking place today, from karate and judo to tae kwon do and kick boxing. It was all awesome and fun to watch, from the weapons displays to the various bouts between the competitors.
Quentin had left them in the main entrance to go get ready. That had been a couple of hours ago. The announcer had said that the tae kwon do competitions were starting, so he knew that they’d see Quentin soon. He couldn’t wait to see his friend in action, and his hand squeezed Patrick’s in excitement when the announcer finally called both Quentin’s name and the name of the person taking him on in his first bout.
Down on the mats, Quentin walked out and went before the judges, bowing low to them respectfully. He was wearing a white gi with a black collar and black stripes on the shoulders, as well as his black belt. His soft shoes were white with more black stripes on them. Except for his blue hair, he looked as normal as Gary had ever seen him. He’d removed his piercings and wasn’t wearing any make-up. His face looked scrubbed and somehow incomplete this way. He began to run through a series of katas, performing them for the judges. He was fluid and graceful, and it seemed to a dazzled Gary that his friend was dancing down there on the mats. Hard to remember that this was a deadly form of martial arts.
Quentin finished his routine with another bow, then stepped away so that his opponent could show his form to the judges before they began their bout. Gary wanted to clap, but refrained when nobody else in the stands did. When the other boy had finished, he and Quentin stepped into the middle of the mats and faced each other. They bowed to each other, then fell into fighting stances.
It happened so quickly - Gary blinked in astonishment as the two boys came at each other. They were both so fast that it was impossible to follow what was happening with the untrained eye. They punched and kicked at each other, or blocked their opposite’s punches and kicks. They circled around each other swiftly, then struck like serpents again. It was astonishing and breath-taking.
It was over as quickly as it had begun. Quentin did something in a blur of motion, and his opponent ended up on the mat with Quentin standing over him. He’d won! Gary surged to his feet, not caring if anyone else clapped this time. But many others were on the feet now as well, and Corey was yelling and waving his first into the air as Quentin bowed again to his opponent, then turned to face he crowd. He bowed for a last time, acknowledging their cheering. His face was serious and calm, but his eyes smiled up at them all. And his gaze found a certain pair of caramel-colored eyes and locked onto them, as Chet smiled and nodded approvingly down at him.
Quentin was riding a high from his win at the tournament when he went to school on Monday. He had another little trophy for his display case ,a bit more cash for his growing fund, and the memories of the approval in the faces of his friends and his boyfriend to give him that special glow. Well, that and the victory sex that Chet had rewarded him with afterward…
He hummed happily to himself as he strolled along toward the locker rooms to pick up Chet after football practice. He’d already finished his column for the newspaper, a frothy confection about what clothes were in style right now. He was looking forward to an evening at home with his parents and his boyfriend, and then afterward when he took Chet home…and then Chet took him…he grinned to himself, his eyes sparkling.
He heard voices speaking nearby, and slowed his steps. They sounded like they were around the corner of the building, and both were distinctly male. Most likely several of Chet’s fellow football players. It wasn’t that Quentin was afraid of them, of course; but he didn’t want to get into an argument with them. He was only supposed to use his martial arts skills to defend himself, and if he could avoid starting something then he wouldn’t have to. So he sighed silently and came to a halt, preparing to wait right here until Chet came to him rather than approach the two speakers.
Idly he listened to what the two boys were saying, mostly profanity-laced bragging about their sexual conquests. Quentin rolled his eyes. If these two actually got laid this much, how would they ever have time to play football or get their schoolwork done? But then one of them said something that made his ears perk up. “I still can’t believe that Rollins is a fag,” one boy said.
“Yeah, it don’t make sense. Fucking that little girlie faggot when he can get any pussy that he wants? That’s nuts.”
Quentin smiled wickedly. But then the first speaker went on: “I don’t think he’s a total homo, though.”
“Why do you say that?” the other boy asked.
“Cause I heard Melinda Sykes telling Jenny Routh that she fucked Rollins in the locker room last week while his little homo boyfriend was doing his thing for the newspaper,” the first boy explained. “Apparently he gave it to her good. I guess he fucks her too so that he doesn’t turn totally gay. I can’t blame him - she gives great head.”
“Yeah,” the other boy replied as Quentin just stood there in stunned shock, “But I can see why he’d want to get a gay guy to suck him off, too. Apparently they’re even better at it than girls. Because they get so much practice,” he added in disgust. “But I don’t care how good the head is, I wouldn’t let a guy touch my dick.”
“Me, either,” agreed the other speaker. “Hey, let’s go and see if the cheerleaders are still practicing. Sometimes you can see up their skirts when they do their throws.”
The two speakers moved off, leaving Quentin still standing there. He felt sick. If those boys had known that he was standing here, he wouldn’t have believed what they’d just said for even a second. But they hadn’t been aware of his presence - they’d simply been gossiping about something they’d heard. A girl had said that Chet had had sex with her in the locker room? While he was busy writing his column for the newspaper? He wanted to think that it couldn’t be true, but what if Chet was doing just what that one boy had said and was trying not to go entirely gay so that he could go back to being a heterosexual later on? Fucking girls would keep him straddling the fence, even if he was openly dating Quentin. And he was a randy teenage boy. They weren’t particularly known for their faithfulness.
He lifted a hand to his mouth as he tried to get his scattered thoughts into some semblance of order. But all he could do was imagine Chet with some slutty girl, and those images wouldn’t be banished no matter how hard he tried. Anguish ripped through him, and he gritted his teeth to keep himself form sobbing like a little girl. He felt like he’d been stabbed through the heart with a dull knife.
“Quen?” his eyes jerked up, and he saw his boyfriend standing there wearing his football uniform and looking puzzled. “Are you okay?”
He SO wasn’t! He lowered his hand so that he could speak clearly. “Not really,” he said in an eerily calm voice that he recognized dimly as him still being in s state of shock. “I just heard two of your fellow players talking about you.”
Chet’s brows gathered together. “Me?” he repeated warily. “What did they say?”
“Oh, not much,” he said in a falsely bright tone of voice. “They just said that you were fucking a girl named Melinda Sykes even though you’re going out with me. That you had sex with her in the locker room last week while I was doing my column for the newspaper.”
Chet’s mouth opened. “What?” he said. “Why the hell would they say that?”
“Well, because one of them happened to overheard the girl herself telling a friend about it,” Quentin told him. “So from the horse’s mouth, I guess. What happened, Chet? I’m not enough for you? Or do you hope to start passing as a straight guy again when you go to college, so you figured you’d keep your…hand…in? Is that it?”
Chet’s lips tightened. “So you believe that they said?” he demanded.
Quentin replied tightly: “I don’t want to, believe me. I really don’t. So you’re telling me that you’ve never had sex with this girl Melinda Sykes?”
Silence. Then: “No, I can’t tell you that. I’ve had sex with her,” Chet replied grimly.
Quentin nearly staggered at his words. “I-I see,” he said in a wavering voice. “I guess that’s it, then? It was fun while it lasted, anyway.”
“Quen…” Chet began.
He held up a hand. “Please don’t try to come up with some stupid excuse for why you did it, Chet,” he said. “I really don’t want to hear it right now. Have fun with your girlfriend,” he whirled around and strode away, hearing Chet calling after him but not looking back. He just couldn’t bear this! His heart was breaking. Tears began to track down his face as he made it to his car and got in behind the wheel, and he could hardly see as he started the car and drove away out of the parking lot.
Janet Yardsley came to the closed door of her son’s room, and heard soft sounds from within that made her feel very anxious. It sounded like Quentin was crying in there - and her son almost never cried. It had to be something very bad to cause this. She tried the handle, and was relieved to find that it wasn’t locked. She eased it open, seeing her child curled up on his bed in a fetal ball. His shoulders were heaving as he wept, and Janet felt her heart twist as she walked over very softly and sat down on the bed next to him. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm.
“Quen? Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
He lifted his tear-stained face from his bedspread. “Mom,” he choked. He sat up slowly, wiping at his face ineffectually.
“What is it, Quen?” she asked in concern.
He sniffled, looking so miserable that her heart went out to him. “I heard some boys talking at school today,” he told her. “About Chet.”
Uh oh. Janet thought worriedly. Not a good start. And it only got worse when her son told her about the conversation that he’d overheard. “And Chet confirmed this for you?” she asked when he was done, her heart sinking in her breast.
“Yeah. He said that he’d had sex with her,” Quentin said softly, and the pain on his face smote her.
Janet engulfed him in a tight hug. “Oh, baby, I‘m so sorry,” she whispered. “This is terrible. I really liked him.”
“So did I!” her son wailed, burying his face in her shirt and beginning to cry all over again.
She stroked his blue hair comfortingly. “Of course you did,” she told him. “In fact, you’re in love with him. And that’s what really makes this so sad.”
He pulled back to look art her face. “How did you know that?” he whispered.
She smiled crookedly. “That you’re in love with him? How could I not know it? It’s pretty obvious.”
“God, I feel like an idiot,” he swabbed at his face again, but she pushed his hand away and went to retrieve a package of tissues from his desk.
“You’re not an idiot for falling in love,” Janet told her son stoutly. “Chet’s the idiot for cheating on someone as wonderful as you.” she kissed his forehead as he scrubbed at his face with the tissues.
“Thanks, Mom.” he hugged her tightly. “I wish this didn’t hurt so much,” he said into her hair.
“First love is often hard, especially when you get your first heartbreak at the same time,” she replied, patting his back. “All I can say is that it will get better over time. I know that’s not comforting now, but…”
“I know,” he pulled back and gave her a wavering smile. “I’ll survive.”
She lifted a hand and stroked his cheek. “Yes, you will. Now I’m going to get you some aspirin and chamomile tea. I’m sure you have a headache by now.”
He nodded slightly. She rose up off the bed and went out into the hallway, sighing sadly. Her son had been so very happy these last few months with Chet - curse that boy for breaking her precious son’s heart! If he wasn’t so big, she’d send Frank to kick his ass. No one hurt her son and got away with it!
The doorbell rang. Janet stopped and glanced at it, then went to answer it reluctantly. To her shock, the person standing on her porch was none other than Chet Rollins! Janet stood there, flabbergasted, staring up at him. “Mrs. Yardsley,” he began(smart enough to know not to call her Janet as she’d urged him to, not now). “Can I talk to Quentin? Please?”
She crossed her arms over her breasts. “And just why should I let you do that?” she asked in a voice that should have removed layers of his skin.
“Because I didn’t do what he thinks that I did,” Chet began desperately. “And I have proof.”
Janet blinked. “Oh?” she said, her voice a little hopeful.
He nodded. “Yes. Please, I’ve got to talk to him!”
Janet decided to go with her instincts and stepped back away from the door. “Come in. But if you hurt him again…” she said warningly. “You will be very sorry, Chet.”
He flinched. “All right.” he walked away toward Quentin’s bedroom, and Janet watched him go with mingled hope and anxiety in her eyes.
Chet walked down the hallway and stood in front of the door to Quentin’s room. Instead of knocking, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. He didn’t want to have to argue with his boyfriend about whether he could come in or not. Inside, he saw Quentin curled up on the bed in a fetal position, his face buried in the bedcover. He hardened his heart against the misery in the curled up ball that was his boyfriend, because he hadn’t done anything wrong and he was going to prove that to Quentin no matter what.
“Quen,” he said aloud.
Quentin’s head jerked up, his reddened and swollen eyes widening when he saw Chet standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here?!” he yelped.
“I came to talk to you. To tell you that you misunderstood me this afternoon,” Chet said stonily. “And I have proof that I didn’t fuck that bitch Melinda in the locker room like she says I did.”
Quentin uncurled himself, glaring a little. “Are you saying that you’ve never had sex with her?!” he demanded incredulously. “Because you said that you had!”
“Yes, I have slept with her,” Chet agreed. “Just not recently. We used to hook up sometimes. We didn’t actually date because she’d sleep with anyone who asked. I did have sex with her once in awhile - but I haven’t fucked her since I got together with you.”
Quentin’s blue eyes were searching his face. “Really?” he asked, looking like he wanted to believe it but couldn’t quite bring himself to.
Chet nodded grimly. “And I have proof,” he added. He pulled out a Blackberry from his pocket.
Quentin stared at it. “Where did you get that?” he asked in bewilderment. “You don’t even have a cell phone.”
“I borrowed it from Gary,” Chet told him, startling him. “How do I…?” he pushed some buttons on the touch screen, muttering to himself. Quentin had to fight back a giggle, in spite of the situation. Chet just looked so frustrated with all of that technology…
“There,” Chet said in satisfaction, and walked over to hand him the Blackberry. “Watch this.”
Quentin took it and stared at the screen. A video was playing on the screen of a girl’s face. She had a hard expression and wore far too much make-up, and she was glaring at someone off camera. “I’m not saying anything,” she snapped as the camera wavered a bit in the grip of whoever was holding it.
“Yes, you are,” Quentin heard Chet’s grim voice say. “Because if you don’t, I’ll make you wish you had.”
The threat in his voice was clear, and something that she saw made the girl blanch pale with fear. “Fine!” she snarled. “So I made up that story about you fucking me in the locker room! I’d think you’d be happy about that, since it means that you’re not a total fag. Which you are!” she added defiantly.
“Have we had sex since I started dating Quentin?” Chet said remorselessly.
She growled in disgust. “No! You like that queer better than me! There, are you happy, gay boy?”
“Almost. One more question. Has any other girl said that I slept with her since I got together with Quentin? A girl who wasn’t lying?”
The girl’s lip curled in disgusted loathing. “No, pussy boy. I guess you’re one hundred per cent fag now.”
“Good,” Chet replied, and the camera went black.
Quentin’s fingers were shaking as he looked mutely up at his boyfriend.
Chet said stonily: “You see? And if you’d listened to me instead of running off…”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m really sorry, Chet,” Quentin said, bowing his head a little. “I just overreacted.”
Silence. Then: “Why did you overreact? That’s not like you,” Chet said over his head.
“I think…I think its because I just keep waiting for you to change your mind,” he said softly after a moment. “To decide that you don’t want to be gay anymore - or at least that you want to go back to pretending to be a straight guy. And I couldn’t handle that.”
The bed creaked as Chet sat down beside him. “Its not like I could go back into the closet around here, anyway,” he pointed out. “Is that the only reason that you reacted that way?”
Quentin shook his blue head. He took a deep breath, and looked up into his boyfriend’s questioning eyes. “I just keep expecting it to end,” he began. “Because we’re both teenagers, and we’re not supposed to be this serious about each other. Right? Sex, sure. But…” he bit at his lip a little, then decided to go for broke. “But not love,” he continued on a near thread of sound.
Chet’s eyes widened, and a look of shock passed over his face. Quentin felt like laughing again, but instead he said: “I don’t know about you, big man, but I am totally in love with you. Head over heels. Totally gone. And I guess I got scared when heard those boys talking about you. Scared that you’re just playing with me. Having a good time. You’re a teenage boy, after all…”
“And so are you,” Chet growled. “What does that have to do with anything?” he paused, then continued tightly: “I can’t…say it right now. I don’t really know how I feel about you yet…”
“I understand. Its okay,” Quentin told him hurriedly. “I didn’t say it just to make you say it too. I was just explaining why I overreacted. But it’s the truth, big man. I’ve never felt this way about anybody else before this.”
The faintest traces of a smile flickered over Chet’s mouth as he put his arm around Quentin. “If that’s so, next time you’ll talk to me and won’t make assumptions,” he said. “Or I’ll spank you until you can’t sit down anymore.”
Quentin’s breath caught in his throat. “Promise?” he said, making Chet growl out a laugh just before he kissed Quentin roughly.
Janet looked up as Chet appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “I came to get some ibuprofen and damp cloth for Quen,” he explained to her. “He’s got a headache and his eyes are all swollen.”
She nodded. “How did it go?” she asked him, waiting tensely for his answer.
“We talked,” he replied. “And I showed him the proof I had that I didn’t sleep with that girl. Not since we’ve been together, anyway. He believes me.”
She relaxed, smiling. “That’s great,” she said enthusiastically as she bustled around getting the bottle of ibuprofen, a glass of water, and a cloth that she ran under warm water and then wrung out slightly. “When Quen told me what happened, I was shocked. You just don’t seem like the type of boy who’d do something like that,” she went on as she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I don’t?” he said, looking surprised.
Janet nodded. “That’s right. You don’t. I’m glad it was a misunderstanding. I take it Quen reacted badly for some reason?”
He nodded. “He…said that he keeps expecting this thing we have to end…because…he loves me…” he said incredulously, sounding amazed.
Janet’s lips twitched a bit, but her face was serious when she turned around and brought the things over to him. “Yes, I knew that,” she told him. “Quen’s never had a real boyfriend before you. When he brought you home to meet us, I knew that he was far gone over you.”
He looked uneasy and uncomfortable. “Nobody’s ever…said that to me before,” he half-whispered.
Janet blinked, and a look of compassion swept over her face. “No one? Not even your parents?” she asked incredulously.
He shook his head. She sighed. “Oh, Chet. That’s terrible. But unfortunately, there are lots of people in this world who are like that - people who don’t love anyone, not even themselves. But its always their children who are hurt by their inability to love, because kids aren’t old enough to know that the lack is in their parents, not in themselves. You never did anything wrong,” she added firmly, meeting his eyes, “Your parents were simply incapable of loving anyone.”
He stared at her. “But..” he began hoarsely.
She shook her head. “No ‘buts’,” she replied. “If you weren’t an entirely lovable person, do you think that Frank and I would have come to see you as our second son?”
He stood there mutely, just staring down at her. Janet smiled up at him. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” she said gently. “But you’ll manage. Just give it time. And now, go and take care of Quen. You’ll be staying for dinner,” she went on as she waved him out of the kitchen briskly.
He went, looking rather wild-eyed. Janet gave in to her chuckles after he’d gone, feeling acutely relieved as she went back to her cooking. Chet was adorable, she mused to herself. She was sincerely glad that Quentin had made a mistake, that Chet hadn’t cheated on him after all. It would have broken her heart if it had been true, just as it would have broken her son’s.
Quentin blinked up at him when Chet walked back into his bedroom with the cloth and the ibuprofen in hand. He walked over and handed them to his boyfriend. “Take these,” he said abruptly.
“Are you okay, big man?” Quentin asked hoarsely.
He shrugged, looking a bit tense. “I guess so,” he said, sounding like he wasn’t quite sure yet.
“Did Mom say something to you?” Quentin asked shrewdly as he popped the cap on the ibuprofen bottle and shook two of them out onto his palm.
Chet twitched. “Yeah,” he replied, but refused to say anything else.
Quentin’s lips twitched. “I see. Anyway, did she invite you over for dinner?” he asked as he put the two pills into his mouth and sipped at the glass of water.
Chet nodded. Quentin looked pleased. He lay down flat on his bed and folded the cloth over his eyes. “Good,” he said. “I’m going to take a nap; would you wake me up when its time to eat?”
“Sure,” he heard Chet say, then he smiled as fingers ghosted over his cheek lightly. He heard footsteps receding, and his bedroom door shutting quietly behind Chet.
Quentin lay there knowing how very lucky he was - Chet could have just decided that he wasn’t worth the drama and kicked him to the curb. Especially when he hadn’t done what Quentin had thought he had after all. He felt terrible about overreacting, but he could see clearly why he’d done so. Being in love like this could sometimes be awfully hard. But he knew that he wouldn’t trade this state for anything else in the whole world. Because while it could be hard, being in love was also the best damn thing in the entire world, too. He vowed silently to never react that way with Chet again, to always give his boyfriend time to talk to him and explain. He knew what kind of person that Chet was, and he should have known that what those boys had been talking about was completely out of character for him. His only excuse, besides his fears about losing Chet back to the straight world, was the fact that they hadn’t been going out that long. He didn’t quite know everything about Chet yet. But he would always go with his instincts from now on, because they knew much better than his brain that Chet Rollins was an amazing guy. And that he was very, very lucky indeed to have someone like him in his life.
“Whee!” Quentin happily tossed his cap into the air, deftly catching it again as his boyfriend gave him a faintly amused look. “What?” he asked innocently over the roar of the other celebrating students. “I’m just happy to be out of school!”
Chet shrugged, still smiling a bit. He knew that Quentin wasn’t a scholar by any means, although he had quite a bit of native intelligence. Quentin turned and hugged Gary tightly on his left side. “I’m going to miss you, Gary,” he said into the smaller boy’s ear.
Gary nodded, blinking back a few tears. While he was looking forward to college, he was also going to miss both Quentin and Corey. Corey was going back East to the same college as Amanda, and who knew what Quentin planned to do…but at least he’d be attending the same college as Patrick. His boyfriend had a baseball scholarship to UCLA, and he’d already been accepted into their engineering program, which was very, very good. He didn’t know if his relationship with Patrick would last, but it would be nice to find out one way or the other. They were already planning to get an apartment together rather than live on campus.
Quentin bounced onward and embraced in turn Patrick, Corey, and Amanda. “Remember, after party at my house!” he sang out to them.
“We’ll be there,” Corey yelled, grinning. Amanda nodded. Quentin gave them a thumbs up sign and toddled back to Chet’s side. He didn’t want to stray far from his boyfriend, because he knew that Chet wasn’t a very happy camper right now. His drunken mother had shown up for the graduation ceremony totally smashed, and had caused a scene earlier when she’d started yelling at her son at the top of her lungs from the stands where the families were sitting. Quentin was embarrassed for him, and wished heartily that his martial arts allowed him to hit certain people. While he wasn’t in favor of hitting women, he’d make an exception in this case…
“Come on, big man!” he yelled to Chet. “Mom and Dad are waiting for us!”
Chet nodded and followed him, not bothering to look around for his lush of as mother in the crowd. He’d be leaving for college in less than three months, and he’d never have to see her again if he didn’t want to. They found Janet and Frank waiting for them by the car in the parking lot, and Janet squealed and hugged both boys. “I’m so proud of both of you!” she gushed.
“Especially me, right, Mom?” Quentin teased. “Bet you weren’t really sure if I’d make it. Unlike Chet here, who’s just chock full of brains…among other things…” he remarked slyly.
She sniffed. “I knew you’d make it, Quen,” she replied. ‘I know you didn’t like school, but you always worked hard at it anyway.”
He giggled. “But you have to admit that Chet’s smarter than me,” he told her merrily.
“I’m not sure that he’s smarter, exactly…” she said, looking the football player over. “Maybe just a better student? If you see what I mean.”
“No, he’s smarter. I admit it,” Quentin said gaily, twining his arm through Chet’s. “I don’t mind. I have other talents, as I’m sure he’d agree…” he shot a teasing sideways look at his boyfriend, who shook his head.
“Yeah. You can drive a person nuts in a record length of time,” he agreed dryly. Janet and Frank laughed.
Quentin pretended to pout. “Bad man. Anyway, let’s go home and get ready for the party. I still have to finish the hors d’oeuvres.”
Chet gave him a sardonic look, while Janet grinned. “Okay, let’s go. We’ll see you boys there.” she waved as she and her husband headed for their car.
Quentin set his mortarboard at a rakish angle atop his head. “Let’s hit it, big man,” he said. Chet grunted and followed him to his car.
Much later, after the party had finally petered out and all of their friends had left, Chet and Quentin lay naked and entwined on his bed. Janet and Frank had tactfully gone out to dinner and had left the two boys to celebrate their graduation in peace, and of course a big part of that was screwing like rabid weasels. Quentin had draped himself atop Chet like a blanket, and was kissing the sweat-limned skin of his shoulder. “Mmm, graduation sex is good,” he said throatily.
Chet said nothing, although his hand caressed idly down Quentin’s naked back. After a moment’s contented silence, Quentin sighed. “We have to talk, big man,” he said reluctantly.
“About what?” Chet asked.
Quentin sat up, running a hand through his blue hair. “About what happens now,” he replied simply. “Now that we’ve graduated. You’re going to college, obviously; but I still don’t think that its for me. And I don’t want to waste my time and money on something I really don’t want to do.”
Chet folded his arms behind his head. “I agree,” he said calmly.
Quentin eyed him. “So…where does that leave us?” he asked rather tightly, not sure that he liked Chet’s casual attitude toward their potential future.
The football player surprised him by smiling slightly. “Well, I’ll be going to college in the Fall,” he said. “I didn’t tell you yet, but I got a football scholarship from UCBerkeley. it’s a great school, and its only half an hours’ drive from San Francisco. So I decided that’s where I’ll be going. And you…” he looked up at his boyfriend, “Can come with me if you want to. You’ve said before that you wanted to go to either New York or California when you graduated from high school.”
Quentin felt a wriggle of excitement start up in his belly. “San Fran? God, I’ve always wanted to go there! Its like our spiritual home,” he said eagerly.
Chet nodded. “I figured that we could get a place together instead of me living on campus,” he explained. “I don’t mind making the drive up to the university every day.”
To be able to live with Chet in a beautiful city like San Francisco, surrounded by so many brothers and sisters in spirit… he liked the sound of that. “But that still doesn’t help me to know what I want to do with my life,” he said aloud. “Besides be with you, that is. I definitely know I want that,” he added, his blue eyes full of emotion as he glanced down into Chet’s face. “But I don’t know about anything else.”
“Sure you do,” his boyfriend replied, taking him by surprise yet again. “You told me once that you were thinking about opening a clothing boutique. I think you should do that. Not right away, of course…but there are plenty of good colleges in and around San Francisco where you could take small business classes. You don’t need a degree, you just need to know how to run a business properly. And with your sense of style, I’d bet you could get a job at a clothing store somewhere in San Fran, especially in the Castro District,” he explained. “So you could get some real life experience running a clothing store before you open your own.”
Quentin’s mouth opened as he stared down at Chet. His boyfriend had not only remembered his one casual comment about opening a clothing boutique, he thought it was a good enough idea to make suggestions for concrete plans about opening one?! “Do you really think,” he said slowly, “That it would be a good idea? I mean, you’ve laughed at the way I dress before, big man. You know you have.”
Chet shrugged. “Just because I think that your way of dressing is very…bright,” he said, “Doesn’t mean that everybody would. I know that there are plenty of gay guys out there who like to be…colorful, just like you. You could cater to them. You could even sell clothes over the internet eventually. You’ve got drive and a unique sense of style. I know you can do this if you want to.”
Quentin felt a warmth in the pit of his stomach. Chet’s faith in him warmed him right down to his toes. “I think that you’re right,” he said, reaching out to run his hand over Chet’s broad chest lovingly. “I think I’d like owning my own clothing store. The least I can do is give it a try, right? And if I get a job in one, that’ll help me decide if its for me or not. I like it!” he declared, patting Chet’s chest. “Thanks, big man.”
Chet smiled and reached up to pull him close. “I want you to be happy,” he said simply. “Because being with you and your family, I’ve been happy for the first time in my entire life. I’m just returning the favor,” his fingers stroked through Quentin’s blue hair tenderly.
He felt a prickle of tears behind his eyes. “I’m glad,” he murmured, kissing Chet’s lips lightly. “Because I want you to be happy too, big man. I think you really deserve it, after all the crap you’ve gone through. I love you,” he added, saying something that he’d been telling Chet almost every day since the first time he’d said it.
Silence. Then Chet said gravely: “I wasn’t sure what love was for a long time. Nobody ever told me that growing up, or showed me it either. When you first said it to me, I wasn’t sure if you weren’t just fooling yourself into thinking that you were in love with me. I mean…who would love me?”
“Oh, Chet,” he whispered in sympathy, but the football player laid a finger over his lips to quiet him down.
“I’ve thought about it for a long time,” he went on quietly. “And I finally came to realize that I do believe that love exists. Because of you, Quen. Because of you and your parents. You all taught me what it is. And now I know that I love you, too,” he said.
Quentin drew in a shuddering breath at this confession. “Chet. You don’t have to worry about me being happy,” he said softly. “Because you just made me happier than I have ever been in my entire life.”
He buried his face in Chet’s neck, and his boyfriend cupped his blue head and held him close. “So. San Francisco,” Quentin said after awhile. “Just you and me, hmm?”
“That’s right,” Chet agreed. “Just you and me.”
The End
