Page 40 of Garbage

He could sort through this. Figure it all out.

And then, maybe, when he’d done all of his research, he could ask Evan again. He’d just have to explain it so carefully that Evan couldn’t possibly disagree.

Chapter 10

Evan

Evan paced across the living room again. Had he said too much? Too little?

Had he blown any chance he had of a relationship with the sexiest, kindest, most compatible guy he’d ever met?

The takeout had arrived an hour ago, but it still sat, cooling on the table. He couldn’t make himself eat.

And Quincy? He was still sitting exactly where he’d been when Evan left the room. Not just in the same rough location, but precisely, eerily, unmoving.

He’d never seen Quincy when he wasn’t moving before. This time, he’d completely shut down. Like the rows of bots in the depot—utterly still.

Evan worried that he might be hurt or even broken.

But he also remembered their talk from earlier, about being emotionally exhausted. Quincy might not need sleep, but he hadn’t even rested in weeks. Maybe this was what he needed to process all of his thoughts and emotions.

Evan decided that he was going to give him another hour—if he could stand it—and then go in to check on him.

It occurred to him… far too late… that he could text Ben.

He would usually text by voice, but he didn’t want Quincy to hear, so he flicked the switch on his glasses to project a keyboard on the table. Hey Ben. I’ve got a question for you.

His leg jiggled under the table while he waited for Ben to respond.

Go for it.

Evan pulled in a breath, and then tried to explain. Quincy and I just had an emotional conversation, and then he stopped moving. Maybe he shut down? I want to know if he’s OK.

Fortunately, Ben replied quickly. Yeah, he should be fine. Sparks usually have programmed rest cycles. He’ll need to figure out how often he needs them.

A little part of Evan’s chest unclenched. How long do you think he’ll be like that?

Max a whole night. Min half an hour.

That didn’t particularly help, since Quincy was in his room, but Evan supposed he could sleep on the couch if he needed to. At least he could remove one worry from his list.

So… Ben added. An emotional conversation?

Asshole. Of course Ben was going to ask.

Though, maybe it would be nice to talk about it? And who else would he tell?

He propositioned me for sex.

There was barely a pause before Ben was writing back. OMG, Evan. Why are you texting me right now and not getting pounded by two-hundred pounds of sexy spark?

God, Ben was so crass. And probably right. I told him I wanted to be sure he could fully consent without being dependent on me and had considered all his options for partners.

Ben sent back an eye-rolling emoji. Right conversation, wrong message. Have you seen how he looks at you?

No? How did Quincy look at him? Evan felt a giddy sort of hope welling in his chest.

Remember when we were at the concert in the park, and you left to buy food? I asked Q if he had any questions about his programming or software. Dude spent half an hour telling me about how you took him to a grocery store. I’m surprised you weren’t already boning.