FAMILY MOVIE MARATHON
Marcus’s POV
Tristan turns his head from the TV screen towards me. “You hear about Holt?” he half-asks, half-mouths, so as not to disturb the movie.
I somehow manage to pry my eyes away from the travesty of King Morpheus getting trapped in an unhealthy amount of black goo.
I really do love a lot of the movies that Qi and Qiang have dug up, not only from their own childhoods but also from their parents’. They just don’t make movies like this anymore.
There’s something that really needs to be said about the use of humanoid-swallowing goo that existed back then, including my absolute favorite —but definitely needs to be mentioned—unforgettable yet borderline inappropriately suggestive Toxic Love from Ferngully.
Neither Qi nor Qiang shushed Tristan when he dared to ask a question while a movie was playing, so either they are equally interested in his inquiry, or they are so riveted to the screen they can’t even hear him.
I never know which side of these two we’re gonna get during these movie marathons.
Sometimes Tristan and I are shushed without mercy; other times we can have full-blown conversations without disturbing them–I suspect those are the movies they know by heart and don’t actually have to hear.
Or there are the ones where the two of them perform more of the movie than the movie does.
Honestly, those are hilarious and probably my absolute favorite marathons.
Tristan is over on the loveseat with Qi’s head nestled into the hollow of his throat.
It amazes me sometimes how small Qi can make himself seem when he’s roughly the same height as Tristan.
I mean, in all fairness, Tristan is significantly bulkier than Qi.
Still, there isn’t actually the size difference between them you’d expect with how Qi manages to curl himself around Tristan.
Not that it bothers Tristan; if anything, I’d wager it ranks at the top of his favorite things. Never seen a man more into their significant other than Tristan is with Qi, well, unless I look in the mirror, I guess, since Qiang is a master at making an absolute mess out of me.
I’m over on the big couch with Qiang curled up against my side and a big quilt thrown over us. They are a bit more squirmy than usual, but they reassured me they’re fine when I asked.
Qiang and I had planned to have today to ourselves, but a pout from Qi was all it took to derail those plans. Honestly, it’s not Qi’s fault that with everything that’s happened since Friday night, Qiang and I had completely forgotten we’d agreed to a Sunday movie marathon.
It’s not often we get to do them since most weekends are spent either training or with Qi and Tristan on some sort of adventure just the two of them.
And usually, I’m completely down for them because Qiang is a bit of a cuddlebug, and while we could be doing a hell of a lot more than that right now if not for this movie day, before our relationship changed on Friday night, it was the most physically intimate time I could get with them.
If it weren’t for Qiang and Qi heading back home late last night, I might have just kidnapped them as soon as we got back to campus, but since I had to go home to grab them anyway, I detoured to take a shower first. As soon as I was ready, Qiang was already at the bottom of the stairs, all dressed up and looking pretty like they always are, only this time they were waiting for me.
And maybe if I’d skipped the shower and just snagged Qiang as soon as I got home, I could have avoided what came next, but vision is always better in hindsight.
No sooner had we shared a shy smile than Qi and Tristan alighted from the finished basement with arms full of snacks and blankets, effectively throwing a wrench in Qiang and me’s Sunday of just the two of us.
Qiang and I exchanged heavy looks, and I thought for a moment they were gonna throw a wrench in Qi’s movie day, but then Qi’s eyes bounced between the two of us before suddenly widening, and that infernal bottom lip of his puffed out in a pronounced pout.
I’d rolled my eyes at first, knowing surely, being their sibling and used to the puppy-dog eyes, that Qiang would be immune.
However, a stuttered excuse that broke so hard on the way out it was unintelligible was all it took for me to know Qiang is just as ridiculously wrapped around Qi’s fingers as everyone else is.
I shouldn’t have even been surprised with how close they are and how often Qiang already gives in to Qi’s ridiculous whims.
And I can’t even say a whole awful lot about it because as soon as Qi swiveled those big eyes back to me…
Well, needless to say, instead of wining, dining, and then disappearing into my room for a sex marathon with my crush, who has finally given in after months of pining, I’m sitting here watching some movie about a kid being named the heir of a dreamland and then having to fight off the nightmares from taking over.
I’d go off on a tangent about how wildly sexist the premise of pulling a human male to name as heir over the dreamland’s already-existing princess is, but then I’d get all grumbly, and it’s just a movie that, as weird as it is, is quite entertaining despite that.
“Yeah, that’s wild,” I toss back to Tristan.
“What happened to Holt?” Qiang asks, looking up at me and kind of squashing the whole ‘too riveted to pay attention’ theory.
“Miami signed him after Saturday’s game. He just got the news this morning,” Tristan says before Qi lightly rolls his head to the side to look up at him.
“Do I need to kiss you to get you to shut up?” he huffs at Tristan.
Tristan’s face curls up in that bright ass smile that really only ever exists for Qi.
“Not gonna turn it down, but I know it’d distract you from the movie.”
Qi raises an eyebrow at Tristan. “You underestimate my ability to multitask.”
Tristan just chuckles at Qi. “In this case, yes, because you’ve tried to prove this one several times, and my kisses completely distract you every time,” he says with a ridiculous amount of smitten glee at the observation.
Qi gives Tristan a speculative look. “Are you really turning down an excuse to kiss me right now?”
“Yes, yes, he is,” Qiang says loudly, popping their bubble and making me have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.
Qi rolls his eyes. “You’re such a mood killer.”
I open my mouth, but Qiang pinches my thigh under the blanket. With both Tristan and Qi’s attention back on the movie, I motion my hand between us, then back at Qi, with exasperation, because how dare he accuse anyone of being a mood killer before taking a good look in the mirror.
There’s a flurry of silent gestures between us that basically have me pointing that out and Qiang telling me to drop it. And because I’m such a decent guy, I do as I’m told; the petulant huff of breath before flopping back against the couch is just expelling the excess energy.
In all fairness, Qi probably thinks he’s doing us a favor by giving us quality couple time at home, especially since I think this is one of the biggest couple activities for Qi and Tristan.
“I have absolutely no idea what Tristan said about Holt.”
They lean back up against me and change the subject, taking care to whisper quietly enough not to perturb Qi and reignite any more making-out conversations.
As much as I kind of want to huff and be petulant, I simply can’t at the moment. Qiang curled against me is just too much of a happy place for me to stay grumbly. Besides, I caved just as hard as they did, so it’s not even fair.
“It means the NFL team in Miami wanted him, so he’s flying out first thing tomorrow morning to join the team.”
Qiang twists around a bit to look at me with a confused expression on their face. “But that’s good news, right? Like that’s what you’re hoping happens to you, so why is it wild?”
“It’s how it happened. Usually, you have to hit the draft in April for a shot at the NFL.
It’s not very often that they contact a university mid-season to pluck a player off their roster.
It doesn’t make much sense to do that because Holt won’t touch the turf until next season anyway, but they must have needed a body, or something, and already had eyes on him. ”
Qiang nods slowly, still looking confused. “So it’s not that he was signed, it’s that it’s rare to be signed like he was?”
Qi lets out an indignant huff, most likely getting aggravated that we’re talking during his movie. Not that he can possibly be missing much, since the kid in the movie is just holding a scepter and saying a bunch of random-ass words.
“It’s the difference between lipstick with lipliner and lipstick without lipliner. One can pull off a perfect lip without the liner, but it’s excessively rare,” Qi points out.
“Got it,” Qiang says with confidence before nuzzling their head back against my chest.
Find ways to explain football things to Qiang using makeup analogies, duly noted.
Everybody refocuses on the movie as a random shiver runs through Qiang’s body. I tighten the blanket around them before running my hand down their arm, and they just curl deeper into me, making my chest purr with contentment.
Wild is really the best word to describe the last few days, though.
Going from single to having the only one I’ve ever wanted nestled so snuggly against me notwithstanding, there’s also going from having Holt absolutely own Saturday’s game to knowing he’s getting ready to head out first thing tomorrow morning.
Saturday’s game was one of the best I’ve ever seen played in my life.
It would have been a shame that I never got to step foot on the field during that game if it weren’t for knowing that I didn’t because Holt was an absolute beast. That game belonged to him, and as much as I love stealing the spotlight on the field, I was more than happy to stay on the bench and watch him shine.