I get up, leaving Marcus to grumble on his own. I get about halfway to the office door when Marcus calls out. “Hey, Qiang. No tropes,” and I can’t help the chuckle that rockets through me.
I nod toward him before shaking my head lightly at his ridiculousness and stepping into Grant’s office.
DEEPER LAYERS
Marcus’s POV
I know it took Qiang swallowing a whole lot of pride to ask me to bring them to their counseling session, and I probably shouldn’t test them as much as I do. The thing is, when I tease them, it prickles them just enough to get them to focus more on the teasing and less on the situation. It pulls them out of their head. It’s one of the many idiosyncrasies I’ve picked up about Qiang in the time I’ve known them.
The last several weeks have been exceedingly difficult in one aspect, but also wonderful in another. My sex life is dead, and for a typical eighteen-year-old that’s used to regular, if not maybe more than regular, sexual activity, my dick is quite unhappy with the current situation. However, it’s also the same dick that doesn’t want to work unless Qiang is in the vicinity, so really, it’s doing the damage to itself.
Not completely, I guess, because a lot of this is emotional, too. Maybe if I’d ever actually entertained the idea of giving up on any semblance of a future between Qiang and me, things would be different. But I’m still rather resolute on the idea, so celibate is how I’m staying. It’s not like I’m the first man on the planet to go through a dryspell for a couple of months, even if it is self-inflicted and I can get rather built up and grumbly sometimes, but it is what it is.
All of that doesn’t mean things between us haven’t progressed, though. I’ve made a point to be there for them. As a result, our friendship has grown exponentially. Throughout everything that has happened, Qiang has gotten clingy. Not in a bad way at all, but they are definitely going through an emotional upheaval, and as a result, they seek to be around someone they trust almost all the time.
At school, it’s usually Qi or Natasha. At home, it’s usually Qi if they can pry him away from Tristan, or me if they can’t. And if we go out or to a party, then they usually cling to me because, if Tristan and Qi are ridiculous to separate at home, they are absolutely impossible to separate in public.
Part of the clinginess is coming with larger doses of closeness, too. Since I’ve promised to beonlytheir friend, they’ve trusted that and relied on it. Hugs and even cuddling on the couch during movies have become more frequent, along with the excuse to carry them upstairs and tuck them in regularly because they often fall asleep. Not surprisingly, because between classes, their channel, therapy, and dealing with all the heavy emotions, they’re tired.
While part of me absolutely loves the closeness and the trust, there’s also the part of me that finds it difficult not to cross into deeper territory. Everything I want is wrapped up in them. Being close enough to touch, but not actually having, wreaks havoc on my heart, and rather crassly, my dick, too. It knows what it wants, but me knowing how much they need my friendship above all else for the time being makes everything easier to take, regardless of how much my dick weeps.
At school, I’m usually around my teammates or Imani. Since that doomed, horrible frat party several weeks ago, she gave up on the idea of us being more than friends and became one of my most supportive sounding boards. Not that I ever say anything deeply personal about Qiang’s journey, because that belongs to Qiang, not me, but I talk a lot about how I’m handling everything.
But, of course, the closeness has sparked rumors about my datinglife. I can’t say I’m surprised. There has always been speculation about who I’m with and who I’m not. Never really understood how the rumors ever held up in high school, with how much I slept around. It’s easier to understand the rumors that are going around now, though.
Outside of my teammates and, of course, Qi, I’m only around two people. At school, it’s always Imani. Outside of school, it’s always Qiang. So it’s not surprising that rumors of my being with both are flying everywhere.
Not that I really spare the time or effort to care much about them. I definitely don’t mind people thinking Qiang is claimed by me. Possessive, yes. Do I give an ounce of a fuck? No. They’remine; people understanding that simply helps me out. It would help me out even more if Qiang would hurry up and get on board, but good things come to those who wait.
However, the rumors did cause a bit of a hang-up with one of my teammates. Not a huge one, but I did get chewed out pretty hard by Derrick–one of our starting wide receivers–for what he assumed was me leading both Imani and Qiang on.
It didn’t take very long into the ass-chewing to realize his hang-up is because he has a thing for Imani. Well, that and leading them both on would have been a really shitty thing to do if his assumption was correct.
Once I explained that Imani was just my friend, he cooled his jets. After I told him he should probably try to talk to her instead of crushing on her from afar, he patted me on the shoulder and ran out of the locker room as if nothing had happened.
Since then, he’s kind of bulldozed his way into our space a time or two when we’re hanging out, just to talk to her. I don’t really mind it that much because Imani seems pretty into him too, and last I heard, they’re planning to go together to Zeta Tau Xi’s Trick or Treat event on Friday.
I’m hoping things work out for them because they’re both pretty awesome people. Not that that means they’ll automatically be good for each other, but it’d be nice if they are.
The Zeta Tau Xi’s Trick or Treat event has a pretty big buzz going around campus. There was even one afternoon when Qi, Tristan, Qiang, and I joined the frat house to help decorate their murals.
If it wasn’t obvious something was brewing between Gio and Holt before, then it sure as fuck is now. I’ve always noticed Holt’s eyes on Gio, and thought I’d seen a bit of reciprocation from Gio from time to time, but the way their eyes lingered on each other that day told the rest of the story. If they aren’t already together and keeping it on the down-low, then it’s only a matter of time. Like minutes, not days.
The event is one that Tristan, Qi, Qiang, and I are really excited to attend. I know Tristan and Qi are planning on dressing up as some famous couple, but Qiang is staying rather tight-lipped about their costume. Not gonna lie, with their makeup skills and amazing sense of style, I cannot wait to see what they do.
But in the meantime, I’m sitting in the lobby for Qiang’s therapy, which is the farthest thing from any other doctor-esque lobby I’ve ever been in.
The office building where Qiang has therapy is absolutely gorgeous. There’s so much character and activity in the craftsmanship and decor that I can see how it would serve as a distraction, pulling clients out of their heads and letting them breathe a little easier.
Therapy is already hard enough; making the waiting rooms as clinical and hospital-like as I’m used to seeing them, especially knowing how much most people dislike hospitals, never made much sense to me.
The building and offices here, though beautiful, were enough on their own. Their therapist didn’t have to compete with the aesthetic with his ‘way sexier than they have any business being’ blue eyes. And no, he’s not really my type, but a spade is a spade, and Qiang holing up in that room for an hour a week and baring their soul to those bedroom eyes isn’t exactly therapeutic knowledge for me.
As much as I want to grumble, though, the guy is obviously good at his job because Qiang gets healthier each week. They open up more, say less disparaging things about themself, seek comfort, and are less bristly. So, as heavy as the instinct is for me to get on myphone and search for a new therapist who is significantly older and less bedroom-eyelike, I keep the urge to myself. While Qiang may be mine, I don’t get to act like it until they actually give in and agree to that.
Qiang’s session with their ‘way hotter than he has any business being’ therapist is now over, and we’re on our way back to the house.
Qiang isn’t really chatty in the car in general. They’ve always preferred that car time is music time. Sometimes, they just quietly bounce along to it, and other times they scream the lyrics at the top of their lungs. If ever there was a moment when Qiang proved to be lacking in any area, it’s that they can’t carry a tune to save their lives. Seriously, it’s absolutely awful, which speaks volumes about me, because it’s still one of my favorite sounds despite recognizing that.
