Part 3
“So here’s how I see it,” Quentin told David. “You have to plan this like a military action. Everything should go smoothly and with precision. First off, I think that you should take her out to dinner somewhere nice. That’s cost you some money, but girls love to be wined and dined. Well, since you’re still teenagers, dined anyway,” he went on with a small smile. “You should look your best, and order flowers for her to show up at her house beforehand. Not chocolates,” he added severely, “Because that sends the wrong message. It makes her think that you think that she’s a fat candy scarfer. Which you don’t, I presume…”
“No, of course not,” David replied. “What else should I do?”
“Compliment her on her looks. Tell her how beautiful you think she is. Be specific – if you love her eyes, tell her so and tell her why. And at the end, thank her for being your girlfriend. Be sincere. If you don’t mean something, don’t say it. Girls can generally tell when you’re not being sincere, and that just pisses them off.”
David shook his head. “This stuff is hard,” he complained.
Quentin grinned. “But she’s worth it, right?” he asked.
“Yeah. Is there anything else that I should do?”
“There’s one thing. You could buy her a ring. Not an engagement ring or even a promise ring, just something as a gift for your anniversary,” he added hastily as David looked alarmed.
“I guess I could do that. But I’m afraid to pick it out myself; what if I get one that sends the wrong message?” David said doubtfully.
Quentin patted his hand where it lay on the tabletop, which made him look even more disconcerted. “Don’t worry about it,” he said easily. “As part of my service, I’ll go with you to the jewelers and help you pick out just the right ring to tell her how you feel, but not make her think that you’re ready to walk down the aisle with her,” Quentin told him with a grin. “Trust me, it will be perfect.”
“Hmm, I really like these,” Quentin remarked, leaning over the jeweler’s case. “They’re nice and romantic without sending the wrong message. That one, with the enamel flowers on it – what do you think?”
David looked uncertain. “Its kinda pretty,” he said. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
Quentin fought not to roll his eyes in exasperation. David was a typical straight male jock, and at least he was trying. Which is more than he could say for a lot of guys, both gay and straight. “I’m pretty sure that she will,” he said aloud. “And it’s not too expensive, either. That’s always a good thing,” he patted David’s arm, earning him another wild sideways look. His lips twitched and his blue eyes gleamed. “Do you want to look at more rings? Or do you think this one will be good?”
“This’ll be fine,” David said hurriedly, “If you think that she’ll like it,” clearly he didn’t want to look at any more jewelry, and Quentin giggled just a little as he nodded.
“Okay, let’s get that one. We’ll have them gift wrap it for you,” he added, “With a cute little bow and everything.” He made a motion at the sales clerk, telling her that they were ready to make a purchase.
Later they left the store together, David carrying the little bag with the gift-wrapped box inside of it. Quentin was smiling and chattering away, while David looked down at him with a bemused expression on his face. Suddenly there was a loud shriek from nearby, and a female tornado descended on them. “What the hell is this, David?!” A voice shrieked, and David turned rather pale as an angry girl stomped up to them and glared at both boys. “Now you’re hanging out with the gay guy?! At a jewelry store?! Did you buy him something nice, you pathetic jerk?! You should have just told me that you were gay any time in the last TWO YEARS!!!”
“Janelle, it’s not what it looks like…” David began in protest, looking horrified.
“Sure it isn’t! Is he cuter than me, hmm? Is that it? He certainly wears just as much make-up!” she cried, her flashing eyes looking Quentin over furiously.
He couldn’t help it – he burst out laughing. “Y-You must be Janelle!” he managed to get out through his giggles. “David’s told me a ton about you,” he added, grinning. “His description didn’t do you justice.”
“Are you laughing at me? Just because you’re stealing my man, you think you can laugh at me?!” the girl snarled, looking like she was going to attack Quentin at any moment.
“No, no,” he said hurriedly, wiping at his eyes to keep his mascara from running, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at this situation. We were in the store together because David here,” he touched the other boy’s arm, making her eyes narrow dangerously, “Was buying YOU a present for your two-year anniversary. He only brought me along as a consultant, you see…because you know straight guys. They have no taste and they don’t generally know what girls like.”
Her face changed, a look of astonishment running over it. “You were…for me?” she said incredulously, her eyes searching David’s face.
“Yeah. Its right here,” he thrust the bag at her desperately, and she took it with fingers that were shaking slightly.
“He wanted something romantic for you, Janelle, because he knows that you’re a romantic person,” Quentin explained. “And being the really great guy that he is, he wanted to do it right and get you something nice. Which is why he asked me to help,” he said with no modesty at all, laying a hand on his chest.
She had opened the bag and pulled out the gift-wrapped box. She carefully undid the bow and took off the paper, her eyes riveted to the tiny box within as she carefully opened it. She gasped when she saw the ring inside, which had tiny enamel flowers encircling crystal chips. “Ohh, it’s beautiful!” she said. “You got this for me?” she looked up at David, tears starting to form in her eyes.
Quentin elbowed him in the side to make him speak up. He started. “Yes!” he cried. “I was gonna give it to you over dinner next week, but…”
“But I came barging over here shrieking like a harridan,” she interrupted him, wiping at her tears uselessly. “Oh, David, I’m sorry. I just assumed, when I saw you with him…” she glanced at Quentin apologetically. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, too,” she told him.
He smiled at her. “That’s all right. Actually, you paid me a compliment by thinking that I COULD steal your man. He’s a hunk, definitely. You’re very lucky,” he told her sincerely.
“Yeah, I am,” she slipped the ring on her finger and hurled herself into David’s arms. “I love you, David. Thank you for the beautiful ring.”
Quentin winked at David and strolled away, leaving him to reap the reward of his thoughtful actions in peace. There, he thought with a smirk, was a boy who was DEFINITELY getting some tonight! Unlike himself. He sighed, shaking his head at the way the world worked. If his parents hadn’t decided to move here for his father’s job, he’d still be in New York. Where even the high schools were full of plenty of gorgeous gay men. Not like here, where the only two openly gay guys(besides himself, of course) were dating each other…
As though his thoughts had conjured him, Quentin suddenly spied a familiar figure up ahead. Not that you could miss that man-mountain…Chet Rollins was exiting the local sporting goods store, his hands full of bags. Feeling impish(and decidedly horny) Quentin decided to go over and mess with him a bit. Playing with fire was a sure way to get burned, but there was a burn he wouldn’t bother to put any cream on…
He quickened his pace a bit, arriving just as Chet started toward his car. “Hey, big man. Buying yourself a new jock strap?” Quentin called to him, making Chet freeze before he turned slowly to scowl at the blue-haired boy.
“What do YOU want?” Chet asked rudely, giving him a cold look.
Quentin let his eyes run over Chet’s huge form in a decidedly lascivious and cataloguing sort of way. “Do you really want me to answer that question, Chetty boy?” he purred.
A frown moved over Chet’s mouth. Not that he’d seen any other expression on it since he’d first arrived at the school… “Why don’t you go and hit on somebody else, fag? I’m busy,” he growled.
Quentin laughed, a sparkling sound. “Busy playing with your…equipment? Now that’s something I’d like to see,” he remarked, giving Chet a lidded look from under his lashes.
Chet’s hands tightened on the handles of the bags he was carrying ominously. “Do you have to turn everything you say into an innuendo?” he demanded angrily. Quentin’s brows lifted slightly. He was a little surprised that Chet understood both what the word ‘innuendo’ meant, and could use it in the proper context. But of course he shouldn’t be. He knew that there were brains to go with that gorgeous body.
“No, I don’t have to,” he conceded cheerfully, “I just like to. Especially where you’re concerned. You ‘rise’ to the bait so beautifully every time,” he mused, “That I just can’t help myself.”
Chet’s mouth worked a little. “So you keep on my case because you think that I’m a fag, too,” he hissed.
Quentin cocked his head to the side a little. “Oh, Chet, I don’t think you are – I KNOW you are,” he replied saucily. “You’re just too scared to come out of the closet, which is pretty pathetic. If my friend Gary Finch, who’s a total nerd and a little string bean to boot, can have the courage to come out…then it’s just sad that someone like you can’t do it. But I’m not surprised, really…most bullies are total cowards, so they have to find those weaker than they are to pick on to make themselves feel better about how scared they are.”
Chet looked furious now. His lip was twitching a little, lifting up off his teeth again like an angry dog’s. “What would you know about it?” he said in a seething voice that said clearly he’d love to rip Quentin’s head off right here and now.
Quentin snorted. “Am I wrong? You pick on people who are smaller and weaker than you, don’t you? I could get affidavits from half of the school if I wanted to. And I’m sorry, but anyone who picks on those smaller than themselves is just a coward, because those people can’t fight back. Generally,” he went on with a slight smirk.
“I…AM…NOT…A…COWARD!” Chet roared, his eyes ablaze. Quentin was more fascinated than anything else, realizing that he’d hit an even bigger nerve than the normal one with his jibes about Chet being gay.
“Then WHY do you bully people?! Tell me that, Chet, and I’ll leave you alone! For good!” Quentin yelled back.
Chet’s mouth clamped shut, and he stood there steaming silently on the sidewalk. Clearly he wasn’t willing to take Quentin up on his offer, even to get him off of his back for good. He sighed. “Look, you know that I’m just going to keep picking at you until you tell me,” he said more gently than normal. “So you’ll either go insane, or you’ll end up attacking me again and getting your butt kicked for the third time in a row. Either way, you lose. Why don’t you just tell me so that I’ll leave you alone? What could it hurt?”
Chet’s nostrils flared, but at last he said in a tight voice.: “Fine. I’ll tell you. But if you ever repeat what I tell you to anybody else, I’ll kill you. And I won’t bother to try to use my hands, either. Maybe I’ll join my dad in prison, but at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that I managed to take you out,” he added bitterly.
Quentin took a deep breath and nodded. “I won’t tell anyone, you have my word on that,” he said, his voice far more serious than it normally was.
“Come on, then. We can go to my house,” Chet said, turning toward his car.
A fascinated Quentin followed him, wondering what he’d hear. He climbed into the passenger side of Chet’s car, glancing sideways at the driver. Chet said nothing as he started the engine, and he didn’t look at Quentin either. The drive to his house wasn’t a long one, and they pulled up in front of a rather shabby white-painted structure with a surprisingly neat lawn and flowers thriving in beds on either side of the door. Chet motioned for him to get out, and Quentin did so. He hopped out of the car and waited as Chet retrieved his bags from the back seat. Then they walked up the front path together, Quentin looking around with avid curiosity.
“Does your mother garden? Those flowers are gorgeous,” he asked.
Chet made a sound perilously close to a snort as he used a key to open his front door. “No, she doesn’t,” he replied shortly. Quentin remembered that Corey’s mother had made a crack about her being a lush, and decided not to say anything else about Chet’s mother for now.
Inside, Chet led him through a messy living room and down the hallway to his bedroom. It turned out to be a very neat but also pretty impersonal space, nothing like his room at all. There were no decorations, no posters on the wall, nothing. Quentin felt a little chill as Chet threw the bags onto his bed and turned to look at him. “You want to know why I’m the way I am?” he said flatly.
Quentin nodded silently, feeling keen anticipation. Chet didn’t answer him – instead, he did something that made poor Quentin flee rather light-headed. He pulled his shirt off, revealing a muscular torso that made drool begin to form at the corners of his mouth. Chet gave him a cold look for his ogling, and silently turned around. The back view was as good as the front – until his eyes arrived at the small of Chet’s back, then Quentin gasped loudly at what he saw there. “That’s why,” Chet said without turning around. “Right there.”
Go to Part 4
“So here’s how I see it,” Quentin told David. “You have to plan this like a military action. Everything should go smoothly and with precision. First off, I think that you should take her out to dinner somewhere nice. That’s cost you some money, but girls love to be wined and dined. Well, since you’re still teenagers, dined anyway,” he went on with a small smile. “You should look your best, and order flowers for her to show up at her house beforehand. Not chocolates,” he added severely, “Because that sends the wrong message. It makes her think that you think that she’s a fat candy scarfer. Which you don’t, I presume…”
“No, of course not,” David replied. “What else should I do?”
“Compliment her on her looks. Tell her how beautiful you think she is. Be specific – if you love her eyes, tell her so and tell her why. And at the end, thank her for being your girlfriend. Be sincere. If you don’t mean something, don’t say it. Girls can generally tell when you’re not being sincere, and that just pisses them off.”
David shook his head. “This stuff is hard,” he complained.
Quentin grinned. “But she’s worth it, right?” he asked.
“Yeah. Is there anything else that I should do?”
“There’s one thing. You could buy her a ring. Not an engagement ring or even a promise ring, just something as a gift for your anniversary,” he added hastily as David looked alarmed.
“I guess I could do that. But I’m afraid to pick it out myself; what if I get one that sends the wrong message?” David said doubtfully.
Quentin patted his hand where it lay on the tabletop, which made him look even more disconcerted. “Don’t worry about it,” he said easily. “As part of my service, I’ll go with you to the jewelers and help you pick out just the right ring to tell her how you feel, but not make her think that you’re ready to walk down the aisle with her,” Quentin told him with a grin. “Trust me, it will be perfect.”
“Hmm, I really like these,” Quentin remarked, leaning over the jeweler’s case. “They’re nice and romantic without sending the wrong message. That one, with the enamel flowers on it – what do you think?”
David looked uncertain. “Its kinda pretty,” he said. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
Quentin fought not to roll his eyes in exasperation. David was a typical straight male jock, and at least he was trying. Which is more than he could say for a lot of guys, both gay and straight. “I’m pretty sure that she will,” he said aloud. “And it’s not too expensive, either. That’s always a good thing,” he patted David’s arm, earning him another wild sideways look. His lips twitched and his blue eyes gleamed. “Do you want to look at more rings? Or do you think this one will be good?”
“This’ll be fine,” David said hurriedly, “If you think that she’ll like it,” clearly he didn’t want to look at any more jewelry, and Quentin giggled just a little as he nodded.
“Okay, let’s get that one. We’ll have them gift wrap it for you,” he added, “With a cute little bow and everything.” He made a motion at the sales clerk, telling her that they were ready to make a purchase.
Later they left the store together, David carrying the little bag with the gift-wrapped box inside of it. Quentin was smiling and chattering away, while David looked down at him with a bemused expression on his face. Suddenly there was a loud shriek from nearby, and a female tornado descended on them. “What the hell is this, David?!” A voice shrieked, and David turned rather pale as an angry girl stomped up to them and glared at both boys. “Now you’re hanging out with the gay guy?! At a jewelry store?! Did you buy him something nice, you pathetic jerk?! You should have just told me that you were gay any time in the last TWO YEARS!!!”
“Janelle, it’s not what it looks like…” David began in protest, looking horrified.
“Sure it isn’t! Is he cuter than me, hmm? Is that it? He certainly wears just as much make-up!” she cried, her flashing eyes looking Quentin over furiously.
He couldn’t help it – he burst out laughing. “Y-You must be Janelle!” he managed to get out through his giggles. “David’s told me a ton about you,” he added, grinning. “His description didn’t do you justice.”
“Are you laughing at me? Just because you’re stealing my man, you think you can laugh at me?!” the girl snarled, looking like she was going to attack Quentin at any moment.
“No, no,” he said hurriedly, wiping at his eyes to keep his mascara from running, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at this situation. We were in the store together because David here,” he touched the other boy’s arm, making her eyes narrow dangerously, “Was buying YOU a present for your two-year anniversary. He only brought me along as a consultant, you see…because you know straight guys. They have no taste and they don’t generally know what girls like.”
Her face changed, a look of astonishment running over it. “You were…for me?” she said incredulously, her eyes searching David’s face.
“Yeah. Its right here,” he thrust the bag at her desperately, and she took it with fingers that were shaking slightly.
“He wanted something romantic for you, Janelle, because he knows that you’re a romantic person,” Quentin explained. “And being the really great guy that he is, he wanted to do it right and get you something nice. Which is why he asked me to help,” he said with no modesty at all, laying a hand on his chest.
She had opened the bag and pulled out the gift-wrapped box. She carefully undid the bow and took off the paper, her eyes riveted to the tiny box within as she carefully opened it. She gasped when she saw the ring inside, which had tiny enamel flowers encircling crystal chips. “Ohh, it’s beautiful!” she said. “You got this for me?” she looked up at David, tears starting to form in her eyes.
Quentin elbowed him in the side to make him speak up. He started. “Yes!” he cried. “I was gonna give it to you over dinner next week, but…”
“But I came barging over here shrieking like a harridan,” she interrupted him, wiping at her tears uselessly. “Oh, David, I’m sorry. I just assumed, when I saw you with him…” she glanced at Quentin apologetically. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, too,” she told him.
He smiled at her. “That’s all right. Actually, you paid me a compliment by thinking that I COULD steal your man. He’s a hunk, definitely. You’re very lucky,” he told her sincerely.
“Yeah, I am,” she slipped the ring on her finger and hurled herself into David’s arms. “I love you, David. Thank you for the beautiful ring.”
Quentin winked at David and strolled away, leaving him to reap the reward of his thoughtful actions in peace. There, he thought with a smirk, was a boy who was DEFINITELY getting some tonight! Unlike himself. He sighed, shaking his head at the way the world worked. If his parents hadn’t decided to move here for his father’s job, he’d still be in New York. Where even the high schools were full of plenty of gorgeous gay men. Not like here, where the only two openly gay guys(besides himself, of course) were dating each other…
As though his thoughts had conjured him, Quentin suddenly spied a familiar figure up ahead. Not that you could miss that man-mountain…Chet Rollins was exiting the local sporting goods store, his hands full of bags. Feeling impish(and decidedly horny) Quentin decided to go over and mess with him a bit. Playing with fire was a sure way to get burned, but there was a burn he wouldn’t bother to put any cream on…
He quickened his pace a bit, arriving just as Chet started toward his car. “Hey, big man. Buying yourself a new jock strap?” Quentin called to him, making Chet freeze before he turned slowly to scowl at the blue-haired boy.
“What do YOU want?” Chet asked rudely, giving him a cold look.
Quentin let his eyes run over Chet’s huge form in a decidedly lascivious and cataloguing sort of way. “Do you really want me to answer that question, Chetty boy?” he purred.
A frown moved over Chet’s mouth. Not that he’d seen any other expression on it since he’d first arrived at the school… “Why don’t you go and hit on somebody else, fag? I’m busy,” he growled.
Quentin laughed, a sparkling sound. “Busy playing with your…equipment? Now that’s something I’d like to see,” he remarked, giving Chet a lidded look from under his lashes.
Chet’s hands tightened on the handles of the bags he was carrying ominously. “Do you have to turn everything you say into an innuendo?” he demanded angrily. Quentin’s brows lifted slightly. He was a little surprised that Chet understood both what the word ‘innuendo’ meant, and could use it in the proper context. But of course he shouldn’t be. He knew that there were brains to go with that gorgeous body.
“No, I don’t have to,” he conceded cheerfully, “I just like to. Especially where you’re concerned. You ‘rise’ to the bait so beautifully every time,” he mused, “That I just can’t help myself.”
Chet’s mouth worked a little. “So you keep on my case because you think that I’m a fag, too,” he hissed.
Quentin cocked his head to the side a little. “Oh, Chet, I don’t think you are – I KNOW you are,” he replied saucily. “You’re just too scared to come out of the closet, which is pretty pathetic. If my friend Gary Finch, who’s a total nerd and a little string bean to boot, can have the courage to come out…then it’s just sad that someone like you can’t do it. But I’m not surprised, really…most bullies are total cowards, so they have to find those weaker than they are to pick on to make themselves feel better about how scared they are.”
Chet looked furious now. His lip was twitching a little, lifting up off his teeth again like an angry dog’s. “What would you know about it?” he said in a seething voice that said clearly he’d love to rip Quentin’s head off right here and now.
Quentin snorted. “Am I wrong? You pick on people who are smaller and weaker than you, don’t you? I could get affidavits from half of the school if I wanted to. And I’m sorry, but anyone who picks on those smaller than themselves is just a coward, because those people can’t fight back. Generally,” he went on with a slight smirk.
“I…AM…NOT…A…COWARD!” Chet roared, his eyes ablaze. Quentin was more fascinated than anything else, realizing that he’d hit an even bigger nerve than the normal one with his jibes about Chet being gay.
“Then WHY do you bully people?! Tell me that, Chet, and I’ll leave you alone! For good!” Quentin yelled back.
Chet’s mouth clamped shut, and he stood there steaming silently on the sidewalk. Clearly he wasn’t willing to take Quentin up on his offer, even to get him off of his back for good. He sighed. “Look, you know that I’m just going to keep picking at you until you tell me,” he said more gently than normal. “So you’ll either go insane, or you’ll end up attacking me again and getting your butt kicked for the third time in a row. Either way, you lose. Why don’t you just tell me so that I’ll leave you alone? What could it hurt?”
Chet’s nostrils flared, but at last he said in a tight voice.: “Fine. I’ll tell you. But if you ever repeat what I tell you to anybody else, I’ll kill you. And I won’t bother to try to use my hands, either. Maybe I’ll join my dad in prison, but at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that I managed to take you out,” he added bitterly.
Quentin took a deep breath and nodded. “I won’t tell anyone, you have my word on that,” he said, his voice far more serious than it normally was.
“Come on, then. We can go to my house,” Chet said, turning toward his car.
A fascinated Quentin followed him, wondering what he’d hear. He climbed into the passenger side of Chet’s car, glancing sideways at the driver. Chet said nothing as he started the engine, and he didn’t look at Quentin either. The drive to his house wasn’t a long one, and they pulled up in front of a rather shabby white-painted structure with a surprisingly neat lawn and flowers thriving in beds on either side of the door. Chet motioned for him to get out, and Quentin did so. He hopped out of the car and waited as Chet retrieved his bags from the back seat. Then they walked up the front path together, Quentin looking around with avid curiosity.
“Does your mother garden? Those flowers are gorgeous,” he asked.
Chet made a sound perilously close to a snort as he used a key to open his front door. “No, she doesn’t,” he replied shortly. Quentin remembered that Corey’s mother had made a crack about her being a lush, and decided not to say anything else about Chet’s mother for now.
Inside, Chet led him through a messy living room and down the hallway to his bedroom. It turned out to be a very neat but also pretty impersonal space, nothing like his room at all. There were no decorations, no posters on the wall, nothing. Quentin felt a little chill as Chet threw the bags onto his bed and turned to look at him. “You want to know why I’m the way I am?” he said flatly.
Quentin nodded silently, feeling keen anticipation. Chet didn’t answer him – instead, he did something that made poor Quentin flee rather light-headed. He pulled his shirt off, revealing a muscular torso that made drool begin to form at the corners of his mouth. Chet gave him a cold look for his ogling, and silently turned around. The back view was as good as the front – until his eyes arrived at the small of Chet’s back, then Quentin gasped loudly at what he saw there. “That’s why,” Chet said without turning around. “Right there.”
Go to Part 4
