Setting The Record Not-So-Straight #2
Darryl clears his throat and leans into the table.
“It's just you were always so uncomfortable around the sex stuff, and we kind of started to keep a lid on it.
You knew it happened, but we didn't really show that side of ourselves around you as much.
A lot of our trysts happen at parties, which you don't really go to very often, so you wouldn't have seen that as much.
Or the few parties you did go to, you didn't really recognize flirting even when it was pretty blatant.
So, it wasn't so much hiding it as you just didn't see it before.”
“But we should have taken the time to tell you when we realized we were attracted to multiple genders. It's just so normalized in our families, well, yours and mine anyway, that I don't think it dawned on us to say anything,” I add in.
Darryl nods his head emphatically. “Exactly, it never had anything to do with not trusting you, man. Kind of feeling like a tool right now because, in hindsight, we should have. We don't keep shit from each other, especially something big like this. It wasn't intentional.”
A ghost of a smile twitches at the corner of Tristan’s mouth. “You guys really don't owe me an explanation,” he reiterates, but I can tell from the tension leaving his body that we really needed to have this talk.
“We really do, man, because it had fuck all to do with keeping secrets or not trusting you or even being uncomfortable with our sexuality. It was literally just a huge oversight because we are so much in the habit of keeping the sexual stuff muted down in front of you. I get that people don’t owe their sexuality to anyone, but this isn’t really about that.
We weren’t keeping it from you; it just hadn’t come up, even though there’d been ample opportunity when you’d gone through your grey-awakening, or whatever.
It’s still something that wasn’t being kept from you, just something we simply hadn’t said.
And there was literally no reason why we hadn’t said it, which is why we needed to clear the air,” I reiterate.
Tristan swallows hard before nodding his head. He reaches up and pinches his temples, probably to get his emotions under control, before looking back up at us since he cries easily. Not that we’ve ever faulted him for that, but he tends to try to bottle that in more when we’re in public spaces.
“Okay, so since the sex stuff doesn't bother me as much as it used to…” he trails off, and I know what he's trying to ask without asking.
“Not really sure. Haven’t really put that much thought into it. I just know that I’m attracted to pretty people; gender doesn’t really factor in all that much,” I tell him.
“I'm bi,” Darryl says simply. “And for full disclosure or whatever, we've been together,” he says, pointing between the two of us.
“But not like in a relationship or even ‘just us’ together, but like multiple bodies together, but not one-on-one because–orgies are fun–but we aren't into each other enough for one-on-one stuff. Kind of weird to think about, but group sex is awesome, so–” he trails off.
“Well, for us. I can see how that would definitely not be your thing,” I add in, noticing Tristan’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline at the admission.
“But it's our thing, or well, one of our things, and kind of how we figured out we were into multiple genders, but as I said, it’s afterparty scenes and stuff that you usually didn't go to, so–” Darryl sums up.
Tristan nods. “Yeah, I get it. And knowing all that makes me feel like I made the right choice to not go to them very often,” he laughs, and I’m glad he’s getting his sense of humor back a bit.
“Definitely not your scene,” I laugh with him.
“Definitely not. But I'm glad to know about you guys, though. Maybe not the orgies, but that's a me thing,” he says lightly.
“So, we cool?” Darryl asks.
Tristan nods. “Yeah, we're cool.”
“Just want to reiterate that we’re sorry, man. We didn't mean to negate you or leave you out,” I say for probably the hundredth time, but I really feel like a shit.
Tristan huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I get it. It's cool. And even if it weren't, I still would have found a way to be cool about it.”
“We know that, but we needed you to know that we’re the same brothers that we've always been. We can just let things become a habit sometimes and forget that there are feelings attached that we took for granted,” I tell him.
Tristan nods and then looks up and smiles. “So… Qiang?” he asks, and I know the important part of the discussion is over, but I also know there was no way we could have that one without it coming back around to this one.
“No. I mean, yeah, they're hot–” I start to say, but Darryl cuts me off to add, “like really fucking hot–” and I kind of want to punch him.
Don’t know why I care so much about Darryl checking Qiang out.
I’ve never really cared about that shit before.
Hell, most of the time we both landed on the same person, we ended up sharing.
But this feels different. I don’t want to share.
And even though I’m resolved on not partaking at all, I still don’t like the idea of anyone else partaking either, which is totally selfish and nonsensical and obviously something I’m gonna have to get over.
I let out an annoyed sigh. I need to get this infatuation or whatever this is out of my head.
“I’m a one-and-done, and as fucking amazing as I imagine sleeping with Qiang would be, it would also be opening a can of worms that has pain and drama written all over it.
Not because of Qiang personally, but because they’re a roommate, and your boyfriend's sibling, and they're too closely woven into the group to get into all of that. So no.”
Darryl snorts at that. “We’ll see,” he says in a voice that leaves no room to misinterpret that he thinks I’m talking out of my ass.
“What?” I challenge.
Darryl just shrugs. “It’s just I’ve been partying with you and fucking around with the people you fuck around with for years.
What happened at that lunch was something new.
You may be using sound logic to convince yourself you have this shit under control, but I think Qiang is going to be a force that’ll have you trippin’ up harder than you think,” he points out.
I shake my head at that. Luckily, for everyone’s sake, Qiang and I are very obviously on the same line of thinking that this absolutely should not happen. “Maybe so, but Qiang is onto me and is no more appreciative of my admiration than they were of yours.”
Darryl gives me a skeptical look. “Maybe not, but I saw them looking back at you. They might have a firm hand on logic, too, but their eyes were definitely taking in their fill of you.”
“Regardless, it can't happen,” I tell him sternly, fully ignoring the butterflies that took flight at his observation. “Tristan, tell him,” I add, hoping for backup.
Instead of getting that backup, Tristan just kind of shrugs instead.
“It's not my thing to be that way. I don't want anything to come between us or bad blood or anything. And I sure as hell don’t want you, Qi, or Qiang hurt, but if there’s a spark, then I think it’s inherently cruel to tell you to deny it just for the sake of my comfort,” he says, and I should have known that would be his stance because it’s such a fucking Tristan way to be.
“You realize that doesn’t help my resolve at all, right?” I huff out.
Tristan smiles at me. “Maybe not, but I'm just as much your brother as I am Qi's boyfriend. I'll move heaven and earth to protect you from pain and celebrate your happiness. I believe if it's meant to be, it’ll be, but I also know Qiang is highly unlikely to give in to whatever attraction they may feel for you, so it’s probably all moot anyway,” he says.
And he’s probably right. He knows the details of Qiang’s trauma. I don’t. I only know that there were football jocks involved and that they’ve got a bad taste in their mouth because of it.
“That’s probably best. Disquieting the house for a lay is ridiculous. There's nothing there that I can't get somewhere else without the drama or the extra effort,” I say out loud, knowing it’s completely sound logic, and trying like fuck to ignore the sour twist in my stomach as I say it.
Darryl snorts again. “Keep telling yourself that, bro,” he says, and it pisses me off that he knows me so well.
Tristan reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t worry too much about it. Between college football and classes, we’re about to get a hell of a lot busier than we’re used to, and it’ll be easier to tune all this out,” he says reassuringly with a squeeze, and out of everything going on, that’s the most reassuring thing I could have heard.
I just have to get through the summer, and then obligations will pick back up.
Time will get consumed. The frat parties and afterparties will run rampant, and I’ll have an entirely new playing field to pick from.
Everything is gonna be just fine. We can all live happily together; I’ll get over this crush or whatever the fuck it is, and go back to my normally scheduled programming in a few weeks.