Red Wine and Warm Summer Nights #3
“The feeling’s pretty mutual,” I say in a blasé tone to mask how much the content of the conversation really means to me, or the million and one inside thoughts that are swirling around in my head.
Marcus nods for a moment and turns to where Tristan and Qi are wrapped up tight, mouths fused, and neither of them aware of their surroundings at all.
“Yeah, not surprising. Qi is pretty great. Stoked that Tristan found someone like him,” he says in a serious tone that leaves no doubt Marcus means what he said.
“I’m stoked that Qi found someone like Tristan,” I add.
“Yeah?” Marcus asks while turning towards me with something deep brewing in his eyes. “You jealous at all of what they have?”
“Nope. I’m happy that they have what they have, because it’s important to them. But I’m not interested in having what they have, so there’s no jealousy there. Just happiness for them,” I point out, relying on the logic I’ve been using for years now.
Thing is, I’m really not interested in getting into a relationship because the fallout isn’t worth it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes miss some of the benefits of being in one.
“So, not a relationship person, then?” he pushes a bit, as though he can hear the wavering indecision in my thoughts.
But even if the wavering hope of trusting anyone enough again to allow myself to have that still flares up from time to time, there’s no universe in which Marcus could ever be that person.
“Nope, and if I haven’t misunderstood Tristan and Qi, then it’s the same for you, too,” I remind him, so he’ll backtrack away from this ridiculously unnecessary conversation.
He looks away for a minute, like he’s reflecting on himself or choosing his words, then looks back at me and nods. “Yeah. Not opposed to it, just haven’t really felt anything that made me want to mess with my priorities.”
“And that’s good. You’re barely eighteen. Let yourself be a child while you still can,” I point out.
Marcus visibly stiffens at that, his eyes narrowing a bit, and I can tell he does not like my choice of words.
“Not that much of a child. I have more adult responsibilities than I do childish ones. And it’s not like you’re that much older than me.
We’re only four years apart,” he points out, and yeah, I definitely hit a nerve.
“Those four years make a difference. You’re stepping into university while I’m getting ready to graduate from it.
You’re stepping into that cushy existence between childhood and adulthood.
I’m getting ready to step into the real world with real adult responsibilities,” I tell him, pointing out logistical facts so he’ll realize it wasn’t a jab at his maturity level, but an actual gap in our ages that’s enough to put us in different phases of life.
His jaw tightens before he hooks me with a probing gaze. “Go tell Qi that he won’t face real adult responsibilities over the next few years because he’s not a real adult yet.”
I scrunch up my forehead at that, replaying what I said in my head to see where that came from. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you're throwing out double standards in your reasoning. I know you consider Qi a responsible adult, but not me. We’re the same age, and you don’t even know me,” he points out, and I guess I deserved that.
I let out a heavy sigh because he’s got a point.
“How about you get to know me a bit before you throw out the childish assumptions. Whether we live together or not, we’re going to be in each other’s spheres. A lot. Wouldn’t it be easier to do that as friends?” Marcus adds.
“Friends? Just friends?” I ask dubiously because the way he looks at me does not say friends.
The tension leaves Marcus’s face as a huge, bright ass smile spreads across it. “Of course, just friends,” he says before letting out a dramatic gasp and putting a shocked hand on his chest, “What else were you thinking? If you think you can’t handle my handsome face–”
“Oh my god,” I interrupt his vain little show. “You’re a smug one, aren’t you? Trust me, I can be your friend just fine.”
Marcus laughs and lies back in the grass with his arms under his head. “Just making sure, can’t have your rampant lust disquieting the domestic bliss of the house,” he teases, lightening the mood by fucking around and being an ass.
“Hey, Tristan. I think your buddy here has had too much to drink. He’s having delusions of grandeur,” I call out.
Before Tristan can say anything, Darryl comes walking up. “It doesn’t take booze to give him those delusions. He’s always been a smug fucker,” he says, plopping down heavily next to Marcus.
“Et tu, Brute,” Marcus declares in a faux offended tone.
Darryl ignores him and pokes him in the ribs. “Budge up, I’m tired,” he declares before laying his head on Marcus’s stomach.
“Get your big ass head off of me,” Marcus grumbles playfully, trying to shove Darryl off of him.
“But Marcus, you’re so comfortable,” Darryl whines while refusing to budge.
The two of them devolve into playful banter, and I catch Qi’s eyes on me. I give him a dramatic eye roll, and he shoots me a beaming smile. Can’t believe this is about to be my life, but it’s worth it for Qi’s sunshine smiles.