“How so?” I don’t know why I ask; we both know what he’s talking about.
I don’t know if it’s something specific to Qiang or if it’s the challenge of knowing they are off-limits, but either way, I’ve never been this hyper-fixated on a specific person before.
“You tell me. When you walked in just now, I watched several pairs of eyes following you, with at least four of them being specifically your type, and instead of pocketing four phone numbers, you didn’t even notice them,” he points out.
I grimace at that because he’s right; I hadn’t noticed any of them, and that is definitely not like me. I’ve always loved the attention, the flirting, the game, but since meeting Qiang, I seem to be swimming up in my head more than noticing what’s being offered right in front of me.
“I guess I’m just not used to not getting my way,” I shrug.
Darryl sits back a bit, observing me for a moment. “Why can’t youhave your way? Just because they might move in with you doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.”
“And if it ends badly, it would be way awkward for everyone in the house,” I remind him before adding, “Besides, they saw through me and turned me down, anyway.”
“Sounds flimsy. You’d normally just charm and flirt with them until they changed their mind, but instead you’re…pining.”
He drags the word out, slowly, with surprise in his tone, because he knows as well as I do that I don’tpine. I never have, and that’s definitely not what’s happening here.
“I amnotpining. I’m just momentarily…distracted,” I argue, my argument getting weaker with the obvious struggle it took me to find the right word.
Darryl snorts with amusement at that. “Keep telling yourself that,” he says.
He must know I’m getting ready to argue more, because as soon as I puff up and open my mouth, Darryl interrupts me by changing the subject.
“Has Tristan said anything?” he asks.
Instantly, I deflate at the reminder of why we’re meeting here tonight. Not that we don’t see each other all the time anyway, but specifically meeting here for a meal is more of a formal rarity than just hanging out at one of our places.
“No, but you know he won't. He's very much of the mindset that no one owes anyone their sexuality, so he's probably keeping the hurt feelings to himself and berating himself for feeling betrayed that we didn't tell him,” I respond.
I feel bad because I know we hurt him, unintentionally, but we still did, and in a way that he’s hurting himself with blame for something he feels he has no right to feel hurt over.
I get where he’s coming from because on the one hand, he’s right. No one owes anyone their sexuality for any reason. However, we know that we’re brothers and to share with one and not the other is to alienate in a way that would give Tristan the perfect reason for hisoverthinking brain to spiral, just as I’m sure he’s doing now. I need to fix it, because his pain is mine.
“Glass of Chardonnay for you, and Tristan, I've brought a glass of Syrah for you,” Jay says with Tristan right behind him.
I stand to give Tristan a quick side-hug while Darryl thanks Jay for bringing the drinks. Darryl reaches over and brushes his knuckles against Tristan’s before we all sit down.
“Thanks for coming,” Darryl says formally once Tristan is sitting down.
I almost want to roll my eyes at how unusually over-the-top he’s being. I keep it in, though, because I know part of it is his discomfort with the overall situation.
Tristan snorts with amusement at that. “Why wouldn't I come?”
Darryl shrugs at that. “Thought you might be mad at us.”
Tristan furrows his brow. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”
I raise an eyebrow at him because I’m not sure whether he’s being deliberately dense or really unsure. “The lunch? With Qiang?”
Understanding lights up in Tristan’s eyes. “Oh, you mean when you popped a chub for Qiang?”
I snort at that. “I can't believe you just said that shit out loud.”
Tristan laughs. “I’m ace, dude, not a prude,” he points out.
“Fair enough, but until you figured out you were ace, things like that made you uncomfortable,” Darryl points out.
Tristan takes a sip of his wine. “It wasn’t so much because I had issues with that kind of stuff; it was more because they were reminders that I was off-kilter from everyone else. Just because I wasn’t interested in people or sex didn’t mean I wasn’t aware that I probablyshouldhave been, and that there was an obvious difference in the way I thought compared to how most people around me thought. Now that I get why, the innuendos and stuff don’t really bug me anymore. And I'm not mad about you thinking Qiang is hot. Maybe a little worried, I guess, that it'll mess with the vibes of the house if that becomes a thing. But as long as no one gets hurt, then it's not really my business.”
