Getting Settled
Qiang’s POV
My heart was in my feet when Qi and Tristan left for university. I knew Qi wanted me to go with them. I knew that I wanted to go with them, too. I’ve been craving this bonding time with Qi since I first started university, and now that I’ve got the chance, I wasted the first six weeks of it.
I have no better explanation than that I got scared.
That panic that seized my brain that last night Marcus and I got close, the memories that I constantly strive to keep buried, tried so hard to come to the surface.
It was physically painful to shut it back down, and the only way to do that was to shove whatever this is with Marcus down with it.
And the fact that it hurt, the fact that I’m so pulled in by him when I know better, the fact that I’ve had a whole lot of extra time to really let it sink in how much of a ‘don’t’ this is, has let me compact it down so much more firmly.
It’s not the last time I saw him. We’ve been thrown together for a few things here and there before Marcus, Tristan, and Qi left early for football and cheerleading training.
Whenever the whole group got together, though, Marcus stuck to Darryl and Tristan, and I stuck to Qi.
The barrier I put in place held firm, and I could almost breathe with relief at that.
I’ve spun myself in circles about this whole thing with Marcus.
I’ve had to remind myself a ridiculous amount of times that it’s not that deep.
I’ve rationalized that maybe I got caught up because it’s the first time I’ve wanted someone and completely denied myself.
Or maybe even concluding that I’ve never really wanted anyone that hard.
Since starting university, it’s always been easy. Go to a party, have a good time, flirt, and fuck without any repercussions. I’ve never had a hard time finding someone to have a good time with, and I’ve never been in a position to really deny myself.
But Marcus was off-limits from the get-go, which made my brain glitch out when I met him and found him ridiculously attractive. To have that attraction be mutual and then matched with a personality that was equally flirty and thoughtful sent my brain into overdrive.
I’ve had time now to slow down. To think it through.
Marcus never did anything to deserve the coldness I gave him the night he graduated.
He'd been a good earpiece and had made me feel included in a friend group that had grown exponentially since I’d last been home.
He's never been anything but open and welcoming, and I repaid that with a coldness he didn’t deserve.
But I also know the ugly feeling that crept up that night isn’t gone.
It’s just sleeping. I know what it is. I tried therapy several years ago because I knew that was the smart thing to do after everything that happened my senior year of high school.
But every therapist wanted me to confront my trauma, and it was too overwhelming.
I couldn’t take it, and I stopped seeing therapist after therapist until I learned just to shove it in a corner and move on from it.
After it tried to rise back to the surface during the last really close moment I had with Marcus, I know that if I continue to give in to him, I’ll keep lashing out.
And realizing that, going back and seeing not only the harm it causes me but also the harm it causes him, and having that harm trickle to Qi and Tristan as well, is what finally allowed me to break through the confusion in my head.
So now that I’ve had time to reflect and realize that the largest price I’ve paid was time with Qi, which has always been my priority, I’m no longer in a perpetual loop of want and denial.
I let my libido sever time with my brother like I’m some sort of sex-deprived dumbass.
Which I’m not, and with the way the barrier I put up between Marcus and me has held firm throughout the few times we’ve seen each other since that night, it gives me hope that things won’t be crazy awkward or more of this insane push and pull when I move in.
Which I finally did about a week ago, and I think things are going well.
Marcus is still a shameless flirt, but it’s been mostly harmless and easier to brush off.
And we’ve been more lighthearted than the crazy tension from the summer.
I’m not saying he doesn’t still tie my stomach up in knots, but it’s also not nearly as overwhelming as it was when we first met.
It also helps that we don't really see that much of each other. Honestly, I don't see much of any of them. Between class schedules and Tristan’s, Marcus’s, and Qi's training and practices, they are rarely home.
Of course, I see Qi the most. He and I got lucky that our schedules aligned so we can spend lunch together most days at least. And Tristan and Qi usually find time in the evening to do something with all of us.
Marcus rarely joins us, though. His free time is generally divided between studying in the library or at frat parties on campus.
I try very hard not to get jealous of that.
To not imagine what he's doing at those parties. He never says, and I never ask. Not my business, not my place; I just need the green voice in my head to shut the hell up, because I have no right to know, feel offended, or care about what he does in his personal life. Especially since it’s a choice that I made.
“How are you adjusting?” Trevor, Tristan’s dad, pulls me out of my thoughts.
He and Marcus’s dad are currently unloading several bags of groceries into the fridge. Tristan’s and Marcus’s parents stopped by to make sure everyone was adjusting well and that the house was in order. I'm assuming that's just their excuse for dropping in to check on their kids.
“Good. It's definitely better than the dorms,” I answer while watching the two move around each other like a choreographed dance.
Their entire dynamic has been… curious? I haven’t been around the parentals in easy-going settings like this much. They’ve either been scarce, or it’s been big events like the graduation.
But I’ve noticed both sets of parents acting as if they’re more than just friends.
Like, there’s no difference in how they treat their friends compared to how they treat their spouses.
If I didn’t know who was married to whom, it’d be damned impossible to figure it out with how they are.
It's like they know each other on a cosmic level.
One moves, and the others gravitate around it.
Like they instinctively know what the other is about to do before they do it.
It's the same way Tristan and Qi move around each other.
Fingertips glide down one's arm. Long glances, love-filled eyes, secrets exchanged through flirty, knowing glances. Maybe they are simply the Diannas to each other’s Annes–like kindred spirits.
Right now, Dawn and Samayah are out doing another shopping run–only this time it’s for them instead of us.
Elijah is reaching for something in one of the higher cabinets, and I watch as Trevor’s hand glides from the back of Elijah’s thigh up to his ass, giving him a sensual squeeze before resting on his hip.
Enough of Elijah’s face is visible for the smug smirk that crosses his face to be unmistakable.
I know that smirk. Marcus may look like his mom, but he got the flirty, smug smirk from his dad. Trevor leans in and whispers something in Elijah’s ear before pulling him slightly back so they’re closer.
“Dad, pda check,” Tristan grumbles while walking into the kitchen to grab a glass and fill it before handing it to Qi, who is close behind him.
“Says the guy whose basic survival depends on having his tongue thrust down his boyfriend’s throat,” Trevor teases while taking a step out of Elijah’s space. Qi’s face pinkens, and he hides a bit in Tristan’s chest.
“Touché,” Tristan laughs while reaching up and running his fingers through Qi’s hair.
I’ve seen the way Tristan looks at his mom. There’s no way his dad brazenly flirting and putting his hands on someone other than his mom is something Tristan would be okay with, unless I’m missing a huge piece here.
I raise my hands in front of my chest as if I’m trying to stop traffic. “Wait. I know it's not my business, but I humbly request a smidge of context here.”
Marcus laughs at that. “Our parents are all together.”
Say what now? “When you say together…”
“They're a quadruple. When Tristan and I became friends, and our parents got to know each other, they all fell in love. So my parents and Tristan’s parents are still married and live in separate houses, but they're also a quadruple with family date nights, individual date nights with their partners, and family-building activities.
Tristan and I aren't just bros; we're stepbrothers, as far as we’re concerned, even though legally we aren't.”
Their entire dynamic makes so much more sense now. They’re all acting like lovers because they are lovers.
“Wow, I can’t even fathom handling one, and you guys are handling three,” I chuckle out.
Elijah smiles over me and shrugs. “It’s the simplest thing that we have to work hard at all the time to maintain.
We all love each other. Completely and unequivocally.
We'd move heaven and earth to be with each other. But four strong minds in one relationship is hard. Especially when we were already established couples before we met. It takes consistent grace, understanding, and communication. It also really helps that we schedule one-on-one time for each of our partners, group dates for all of us, and family time as well. It reminds us of why we love each other individually, why we love each other as a committed, closed poly, and why we love our family as a whole.”
I nod my head, understanding so much about all of them with the simple knowledge. “That's really awesome. And it definitely explains why Tristan is always so open and communicative with Qi. He learned from example.”
“They both did. Our parenting styles were quite similar when we all got together. We’ve raised Marcus with that same openness and communication, and with accountability and responsibility.
Not just acknowledging, but showing up and owning up,” Elijah adds before shooting Tristan and Marcus huge smiles.
The pride in both boys is evident in his eyes, and I realize, just as Marcus had said that he and Tristan are stepbrothers; it dawns on me that all four parents would consider both boys their sons.
“Hello, hello.” Speaking of Dawn, her voice travels from the front door as she and Samayah bring several bags in.
“We’re in the kitchen talking about the quadruple since our dads couldn't keep their hands to themselves in front of Qiang,” Marcus hollers back.
Dawn comes around the corner with a fond smile on her face. “They are awful; it's amazing they can keep their hands to themselves in public,” she teases.
Trevor snorts with amusement at that. “Cuz you're not just as bad? Need I remind you of the pool house incident with Samayah?”
“Cover your ears, Qi. This is about to get indecent,” Tristan whispers loudly.
“No, it’s not. We have reservations at Kairos at six, and we need to be getting ready,” Samayah says before we get an earful of whatever escapades Dawn and Trevor are teasing each other about.
“Kairos?!?” I ask, shocked.
Kairos is the kind of place that costs triple per plate what a restaurant I would consider extravagant would cost for an entire table of four. It’s not just fine dining; it’s elite dining owned by an elitist and designed to cater to the elite.
“Of course, Kairos. It’s my favorite restaurant, and I only get to enjoy it when I’m here,” Samayah simpers at me sweetly.
It’s an amazing talent that she has because she presents herself so regally and fiercely that sweet doesn’t seem to be a part of her visage, yet she’s got this way of twisting her smile so that it softens her eyes and gives her a sweet simper that would melt even the stoutest of hearts.
“Oh, well, I…” I stutter a bit because Kairos is so ridiculously out of my budget; I wouldn’t even know how to behave or eat in a place like that.
Samayah’s eyes widen in understanding before she shakes her head. “Oh no. You have to join us; it’s the least we can do to repay you,” she says placatingly.
My eyes widen at that, because so far, since they’ve been here, or even since I’ve even known her really, I haven’t done anything but receive.
Compliments on my work, praise for my talent, about a million move-in gifts along with a ridiculous number of makeup exclusives, and getting me on two podcasts since she’s been here.
I haven’t done a damn thing except have Qi repeatedly kick my shin to remind me to just accept it gracefully.
I tried once to humbly deny the gifts and learned the hard way that it was pointless. If Samayah wants to give, then she’s gonna give, and that’s just that.
“Repay me for what?”
Samayah’s lips curl up into a smirk. She’s laying the groundwork for something; I just know it. “The makeovers, of course.”
“Makeovers?” I ask skeptically, because if that’s all, then she didn’t need to work up to it so hard. That’s more of a gift for me than for them. Giving me time to play with my craft with fresh faces.
“The ones you’re about to give Dawn and me for dinner, silly,” she laughs like she’s reminding me of something I agreed to and have simply forgotten.
We did not discuss this, and I did not forget, but since this is so far in my wheelhouse, I’m not gonna complain. In fact, I’m pretty stoked about it.
“Oh, right. Those makeovers,” I agree playfully at this point, realizing she walked me into a trap I’m more than willing to walk into.
“Now, now, dear. Just because they’re friends with the boys doesn’t mean you can just use them for their talents,” Elijah scolds Samayah, who just smiles placatingly at him like she has no intention of minding a word he’s saying.
“No, no. It’s okay. I really don’t mind,” I respond. “They’ll be my first makeovers in the new studio.”
Marcus snorts out the quietest of laughs. “Hook, line, and sinker,” he teases.
I slap Marcus’s arm as I pass him, having a feeling that he falls for his mom’s shenanigans even harder than I do. He just laughs harder while Dawn and Samayah follow me up to my studio for makeovers.