Chapter 18 #2
On the surface, what he had with Joel didn’t look all that different from what he and Drew had been doing.
Their relationship was mostly physical, and they had been clear that there were no expectations beyond that.
But by now, it had been going on for several months, and Quentin wasn’t blind.
He might be a bit emotionally repressed, but he knew when he was developing feelings for someone.
And he was developing feelings for Joel.
He wanted more, even if he didn’t think he could have more.
Maybe he could.
Maybe the world was changing, and he was allowed to choose his own happiness.
One of Boston’s first games in the Playoffs was against the Chicago Architects.
They flew to Chicago the afternoon before the game.
Quentin always liked playing in Chicago.
It was a beautiful city, and it was so different from Boston.
The Architects were a good team. They played a good, respectful game of hockey, and there were some friendships between the Minutemen and the Architects.
Quentin had an idea while he sat at the bar in the hotel where he was staying. He was drinking black coffee and reading a book. He took his phone out, searched for a number he hadn’t used in months, and sent a short text:
Hey, I know this might be coming out of the blue, but would you like to grab a drink tonight?
I know it’s last-minute, but I could use some advice about some personal stuff, and you were the best person I could think of to ask.
I know it might be unfair of me to ask this, but I trust you.
If you don’t want to, I completely understand. I hope you’re doing well.
Drew Moreau texted him back ten minutes later, asking where Quentin would like to meet, and Quentin gave him the name of a little bar down the street from his hotel.
He met Drew there an hour later. It was late, and it was dark out.
Quentin was sitting at a booth, sipping another cup of coffee, when Drew walked in.
There had been a time when seeing Drew would cause Quentin’s stomach to jump.
They’d had an intense physical relationship, and Quentin knew he’d hurt Drew badly when he ended things.
That had been almost two years ago, and Quentin had grown since then, and Drew had found happiness.
They were different men, and were meeting under very different circumstances.
Drew gave Quentin a hug. “It’s good to see you,” he said, and it sounded like he meant it. “I was hoping we could catch up while you’re here. You know, before we destroy you in the game tomorrow.”
They sat, and Quentin grinned at his ex. “You talk a big game for someone who’s practically geriatric. How are your joints holding up?”
“Better than yours, I’m sure,” Drew said. A waiter came by, and Drew ordered a club soda. “So, update me on life.”
They chatted for a bit. Quentin told him about the team and how things were going.
He avoided any talk about Joel, or about the FCL incident, though Drew made a brief joke about it.
He asked Drew about his life, and Drew told him how happy he was in Chicago.
He was thinking of retiring after this season, or maybe next, and focusing on his foundation work, or maybe transitioning into coaching.
He was very happy with his partner, Gabriel.
They lived together, and Drew admitted that they were talking about taking the next step.
“Marriage?” Quentin asked, surprised.
“Like you said, I’m not exactly a child bride. Gabriel is young, but he wants to be married. I do, too.”
Quentin smiled. “It makes me happy to hear that, Drew. It really does. I’m glad you found happiness and someone who is able to love you openly.”
Drew was silent for a moment. “What about you, Quentin? Have you found anyone?”
Quentin took a deep breath. “That’s kind of why I’m here.
I think I have found someone. There’s someone I really like.
He’s…he’s wonderful. He’s everything I didn’t know I wanted, and I haven’t told him that.
I’m scared of a relationship, because it would mean a big change in my life.
Coming out scares me, because things will be different.
I know that change is necessary, but there are so many unknowns here. ”
Drew didn’t say anything at first, but nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you for trusting me. This guy, is he out?”
“No.”
“Does he intend to come out?”
“We haven’t talked about it.”
“Have you thought about talking about it?”
“I’m scared to,” Quentin admitted. “When we started our…arrangement…we agreed that there were no strings attached and no expectations. But I think I’ve caught feelings, and I don’t know about him.”
“How long has it been going on?”
“A few months.”
Drew shrugged. “It’s not unreasonable to want to take things to the next step then. I knew for sure about wanting to date Gabriel after that time. It was enough to inspire me to come out. To be fair, he was already out.”
Quentin played with his coffee cup. “I don’t know if the guy I’m interested in is in a position to come out, either.”
If Drew suspected who Quentin was talking about, he didn’t show it.
He just nodded. “I think you need to decide what you want for yourself. What is right for you? I ultimately made the decision to come out for myself. Gabriel was part of it, but he wasn’t the main reason.
I was tired of hiding and wanted to live my truth openly. Do you want that?”
The thought terrified Quentin, but he realized he knew the answer. “Yes, I do. I still don’t know if I’m ready, but I know I want that someday, and sooner than I once thought.”
“That’s good. You don’t need to come out tomorrow, or even in a month.
Coming out is a personal thing, and no one else should dictate how you should do it.
You can and should do it on your own time and in your own way.
I have faith that you’ll do it the right way when you need to.
” He hesitated. “And, Quentin, if you really like this guy, don’t be afraid to tell him.
You can be honest about how you feel. It’s worth being honest in this life.
You deserve to be happy, and you deserve to be loved. ”
Quentin blinked away tears. “Thank you, Drew. Really, thank you.”
Boston crushed the Chicago Architects the next day. After the game, Drew smiled at Quentin and gave him a thumbs-up. Quentin returned the smile. He’d seen Gabriel, Quentin’s partner, in the stands, cheering for Drew. They seemed so happy together, so perfect. Quentin knew what he wanted.
After the game, some of the team went out to celebrate.
Henri dragged Quentin along with them. Cort had joined them in Chicago for the game.
They went to a restaurant, and then a bar, and then Henri said that he wanted to walk around the city for a bit.
He loved Chicago, and he wanted to see more of it.
Quentin, Henri, and Cort left their other teammates after the bar and went walking by the Chicago River, standing on one of the bridges and looking out at the lights of the buildings.
It was a beautiful city. It was a night in April, and spring was coming to the Midwest. It was an unusually warm night, and Quentin was sweating in his shirt.
“It’s so pretty here,” Henri said, looking out at the river. He turned to Quentin. “Would you mind getting a picture of Cort and me? I love the lighting there.”
Cort balked. “My hair isn’t cooperating right now.”
Henri rolled his eyes and handed his phone to Quentin. “You look very handsome, honey,” he said.
Quentin took the offered phone and positioned himself to take a photo of his friends. “Okay,” he said. “Try to look more natural, Cort.”
“I’m awful at posing for photos,” Cort lamented. It was true. He smiled like an awkward schoolboy getting his yearbook photo taken.
“Not at all,” Quentin lied. He snapped a few photos and showed them to Henri and Cort.
“Eh, try another,” Henri said, giving the phone back.
Quentin repositioned himself. Henri and Cort stood by the railing of the bridge, the lights of the city illuminating them. Cort went to put his arm around Henri.
Quentin almost dropped the phone as Henri slipped from under Cort’s arm and dropped fluidly to one knee.
“Oh, my god,” Quentin whispered. He frantically started a video and tried to keep his hands as steady as he could.
Henri pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket.
“What are—oh fuck,” Cort said, covering his mouth and staring down at Henri.
Henri grinned up at Cort.
“Cort Styleton,” he said gently.
Cort burst into tears.
“Jesus,” Henri said, “could you wait to cry until I finish proposing?”
Cort choked on a sob and wiped the tears on his face. “Keep going!” he managed to say.
Henri huffed. “Cort Styleton, my love. You came into my life like a furious light, and you have irrevocably changed me for the better. I love you dearly. You are my best friend, my lover, my partner. Will you do me the honor of also being my husband?”
It was short, simple, and beautiful.
“Yes,” Cort cried, dragging Henri to his feet and kissing him deeply.
Quentin captured it all on video—including his own choked sobs in the background. He was overwhelmed with love for his friends.
Henri slipped a ring onto Cort’s hand. They were both laughing and crying, and then they both held their arms out to Quentin. He hugged them tightly, adding his tears to theirs.
“I love you both so much,” he said through his tears. “I’m so happy for you, and so proud of you.”
He walked a few steps behind the happy couple as they returned to their hotel.