Lighthearted
Marcus’s POV
Qiang’s laughter lights up the mostly dim kitchen. Tristan and Qi headed downstairs shortly after we got back from dinner, and Qiang and I made our way to the kitchen for a drink and haven’t left it yet.
“Oh my god, that would have been a sight to see,” Qiang chuckles.
“It was; my mom scolded all three of us while she and Dawn worked to get the congealed flour out of our hair. And then she would stop long enough to scold Dawn because Dawn dismally failed at hiding her own amusement at the whole thing.” I laugh at the memory of a food experiment that had turned into a food fight in Tristan’s kitchen during our sophomore year of high school.
“Definitely sounds like Dawn,” Qiang agrees, reminding me that they’ve been close since they connected over Qi and Tristan’s prom.
Not gonna lie, I’m hoping they get close to my mom like that, too.
Doesn’t hurt that my mom openly admires Qiang, and Qiang seems to really gravitate to her as well.
Obviously, part of that hope is because of what Qiang and I could be if I could somehow break down their walls and get them to really see me.
Beyond that, most of it is knowing that Qiang and Qi will be part of our family in some capacity, and, like anyone, I want that to be cohesive. I want Qiang to feel welcome in our family, because regardless of how they are part of it, they are still unequivocally part of it.
But instead of openly reflecting on any of the nice directions my thoughts are headed, when I open my mouth, it’s the jealousy from earlier that comes out.
“Gio seems to have some pretty big heart eyes for you.”
“I could say the same about Imani with you,” Qiang says.
I furrow my brow in confusion. “Who’s Imani?”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” Qiang mutters under their breath. “The gorgeous girl who was with Gio, who was looking at you like her next conquest. Ring any bells?” they say with a mixture of sarcasm and irritation, and I’m wondering if I wasn’t the only one stewing in jealousy tonight.
“Didn’t really notice. I was distracted by someone else,” I point out—no point in hiding it since it was obvious where my attention was throughout the entire dinner.
“Shameless,” Qiang scoffs with a blush.
I clear my throat. “So Gio could potentially be a hook-up for you?” I ask, not wanting to know the answer, but not wanting the conversation to end, and now I’ve landed on what could possibly be the worst fucking subject ever. I’m so fucking weird around Qiang; it drives me to distraction sometimes.
Qiang shakes their head. “Doubtful. He’s nice, but I know he’s a jock. Finding out after the fact is one thing; going into it knowing is different. It’s why anonymity works so well. It avoids these moral conundrums.”
“So you’ve hooked up with football jocks over the years?”
“Once or twice, but again, I didn’t know they were jocks until after the fact. I mean, sometimes you can tell just by looking at someone, but then again, some guys are just gym guys,” they point out.
“Do you have hook-up rules?” I ask, not really sure why I’m still stuck on a conversation I don’t really want to think about.
The thing is, I know they are like me. But they aren’t hung up on someone like I am.
So them eventually hooking up with someone is pretty much written in stone.
Just because I can’t seem to get my usual act together doesn’t mean they have any issue in that field at all.
As much as I hate the thought, I don’t think I’m going to have much choice but to get used to the idea of Qiang sleeping with people who aren’t me.
“Doesn’t everyone?” They shrug it off like it’s no big deal.
“I guess so.”
“So what are yours?” they ask, and I guess it’s fair to answer first since I’m the one who brought it up.
“No repeats. Protection is non-negotiable. I don’t mind hickeys if they’re hidden, but I don’t like pain. It brings me out of the mood,” I list off.
Qiang nods their head. “I don’t really mind repeats, as long as emotions stay out of it and no one becomes enough of a habit for feelings to creep in. Obviously, protection is a necessity. Not a pain person, either, and no kissing. Ever.”
I raise an eyebrow at that. “Really? That’s like the best part.”
Qiang huffs. “And the most emotional one. Sex without kissing is perfunctory. It serves the purpose of getting off and having fun. Kissing makes it personal, and I don’t need that.”
“So like, have you ever kissed anyone at all?”
Qiang snorts. “Of course I have.”
“But according to Qi, the hook-up life has been your thing for years, so how long has it been since you kissed someone?” I ask, a bit curious now because I don’t think I could live without the kissing. I like that bit more than the sex bit, really.
“Over four years.” Qiang shrugs nonchalantly, but it doesn’t fully hide the slight stiffening in their shoulders.
That reminds me of the conversation I had with Qi when we first moved in about Qiang’s ex leaving them with a fuckton of trauma.
“Ah, so that was the jock ex-boyfriend, right?” I probe because I don’t actually know that for sure, but based on the context clues I’ve picked up from Tristan and Qi, it feels pretty obvious.
Qiang’s eyes widen at that, then narrow with suspicion. “How do you know about that?”
I shrug a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t really. Just bits and pieces. Mostly stuff I’ve put together. You have issues with jocks, and your last relationship was an asshole. Didn’t take much to put together that your ex was part of the ‘jocks are assholes’ conclusion.”
Qiang nods and lets out a sigh. “I trusted the wrong person and got publicly outed in a mortifyingly embarrassing way.”
I sit back and wait for them to elaborate. After a couple of moments of silence, Qiang huffs out a frustrated breath.
“He aired a tape of me giving him head in front of my high school. I didn’t end up expelled, but I spent the rest of the year finishing my classes from home.”
“And the guy’s punishment?” I ask because I have a feeling he didn’t get much of a punishment beyond Qi kicking the guy’s ass.
Qiang shakes their head. “They conveniently shot the video so their face wasn’t in it. I had enough proof to out them in retaliation, but I couldn’t see the point. With his family’s reputation, they would have found a way to sweep it under the rug, regardless.
“The thing is, I knew better. But I was a stupid teenager, hopped up on teen movies that made the whole jock-nerd trope seem like more of a reality. Not that I was ever what someone would call a nerd, but I was also never anywhere near a jock, either.”
I knew what happened must have been traumatic, but I can’t even imagine what being outed like that would be like. Even if they weren’t outed, just the mortification of having a sex tape of yourself publicly aired like that would be traumatic on its own.
I can tell just from the delivery that they’ve given me the barest of cliffnotes on what happened, but the cliffnotes are enough to understand their hesitation and distrust, along with where they’ve taken chunks of the blame and undeservedly placed it on themself.
“I’m sorry you went through something like that.
Feels like you’re blaming yourself for it though, when it’s not your fault.
It doesn’t make you stupid to believe in happy endings.
The most popular tropes are the ones that go against the grain.
They represent the part of reality that’s rare and makes it believable.
That’s the point of it. But I don’t think it’s impossible for those tropes to come true in real life; it’s just rare. That’s why it’s a trope,” I point out.
“Slice of life is a trope, too,” they most unhelpfully throw back in my face.
“Slice of life is a trope because it’s rare in fiction, not because it’s rare in reality. And it’s rude to uno reverse card people when you know the point they are trying to make,” I huff out with an eye-roll.
Qiang just laughs. “Fair enough. And I will say that over the past few months, getting to know Tristan, then you, and even Gio, have helped me realize how extremely biased I’ve been.
Still not in a place where I want to get chummy enough with jocks to hook up with them or anything, but maybe trying to let go enough to be friends with one or two isn’t such a terrible thing. ”
“Stop. You’re making me blush,” I tease to lighten the mood.
I have a feeling that they’ve cracked themself open and shown me as much as they are going to tonight, so I don’t want to dwell on the bad vibe when tonight has been mostly pleasant.
And obviously, there’s a ‘still nowhere near dating me’ clause in their statement, but there’s also significant growth in my favor, regardless.
“Who said it was you?” Qiang immediately fires back while trying to hold back a smile.
“Your pretty eyes,” I smile back at them, flashing my pearly whites.
“Can I buy that word off of you?” they ask with an arched brow.
“Sure, a million adjectives are hanging out on the tip of my tongue waiting to take their place,” I tease back, getting into the flirt even though I know it’s not going to go anywhere, but loving how easy it is to tease like this and have them respond playfully instead of tense like it’s been before.
Qiang laughs and rolls their eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“The problem you have with that, Qiang—well, problem for you, point of favor for me—is that the reason my ridiculousness bothers you is that you like it so much.”
Qiang shakes their head with amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“I don’t have to. Your eyes tell me everything I need to know,” I practically purr, no longer caring how sickeningly flirty it sounds, since that’s part of the game.
“And on that note, I’m heading to bed before you make me gag with your sickly sweetness,” they say with a toss of their hair and pulling their feet off the stool in front of them.
“I’ll make you gag on something,” I throw out almost naturally, not even realizing how crass that was until Qiang’s entire body freezes for a moment.
After a second of silence, Qiang’s eyes land on mine with a heat in them that has my gut somersaulting. All it took was a look for them to flip the game back around. They look me up and down before curling their lips into a flirty smile.
“I’m game if you keep your lips to yourself.”
For a split second, flowers fucking bloom in my chest. The invitation is clear, but underneath it is the full realization that a hook-up is all they’re offering, and it’s simply not enough.
I want everything, and I think I’m already ridiculously overemotional enough on this crush; I can’t even imagine how insufferable I’d become if I got a taste.
“I’d love to play that game, but I think that’s one rule I can’t abide by,” I curl my words into a tease, not wanting them to know how deep all of that just hit. Even though it ended up in the wrong place, I sure as hell didn’t expect my little tease to go as far as it did.
Qiang shrugs with a knowing smile on their face. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Until then, goodnight, Marcus.”
“Goodnight, pretty,” I hum lightly.
Qiang tsks at me. “I thought I bought that word off you?”
“You asked how much it would cost, but I haven’t received payment, so it’s still mine,” I point out.
Qiang raises an eyebrow. “And what’s the price?”
I look them straight in the eyes, letting them see, for a moment, the full effect they have on me, so they can see how seriously I take the terms of payment. “For you to break your rules for me.”
Qiang takes me in for a moment. I have no idea what’s going on in their mind, but I watch as their Adam’s apple slowly bobs with a heavy swallow.
“Guess I’ll just have to live with pretty then,” they say a bit more quietly than we’ve been so far.
“The way your cheeks brighten tells me it’s not as much of a hardship as you’re pretending,” I add, giving them a chance to tell me if I’m actually making them uncomfortable, because their body language definitely says they like it, but I don’t want to assume.
Qiang’s only response is to shyly bite down on their lower lip before retreating to the stairs to head up to bed.
I watch them go. I don’t know if I’m making any real progress here.
I don’t even know if there’s any universe in which I have an actual shot, but I can’t stop the hope from blossoming in my chest.