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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Breaking Quincy - 6. Chapter 6 - Protecting

Breaking Quincy :: Protecting


My name in Asher Ryans, and I am currently loosing my mind.


Quincy was the lucky one, really. He was also so adorable, so sure of himself it seemed. He didn't even have to try- they basically had to beg him to be on varsity. And here I was, working my ass off for Junior Varsity.


And now this! He seemed to accepting his feelings- his homosexual feelings- so easily! Didn't he understand?


Practice was over, and I leaned against the shower wall. I had hope the hot water would help sooth my mind, but it seemed like nothing would calm me. I closed my eyes, resting my face in my palms. God damn it, Quincy. What have you done to me? I was usually so composed, so smooth. I prided myself on my charm, my ability to flick my blond hair and give a cocky wink. How had Quincy managed to make me into this confused, bluthering idiot?


"Ash!" My head jerked up. He was walking towards me, waving and smiling. Hell, he was beautiful. He had a thin frame, messy brown hair, a feminine little cute face. Since when did I start looking at my best friend of years like this? I was really loosing it.


"Hey." I responded curtly, shutting off the water and wrapping my green towel around my waist. We were in the locker room, in public. How was I supposed to act? Surely Quincy understood-


Obviously not. That adorable brunette threw his arms around me in the biggest hug of my life. "I'm so happy to see you," he whispered into my neck in his charmingly innocent way.


Although my heart was racing, there was only one thing to do.


"Dude, get off!" I shoved him back -hard- by his shoulders, trying to feign a look of disgust. Our teammates could see us! What did he expect, us to go down the hall hand in hand, kissing between classes, laughing merrily? Maybe he was ready to be open and in love, but I was not. I was still so confused. The look on Quincy's face shattered me. His ocean blue eyes turned wet, and the pain on his face was clear. He rubbed his shoulder. How hard had I pushed? With a look of complete destruction, Quincy took a few steps back, lips trembling as he tried to find the right words.


Shit ! What had I done? I took a step forward, reaching my arm out, but Quincy was like a jack rabbit. In seconds, he was out the door.


Our teammates seemed not to notice, or not care, or not understand. In any case, they slowly trickled out of the locker room, leaving me in my towel. I crumpled to the bench, shaking all over. I had hurt Quincy, the boy I love. What kind of monster was I? Just because I was afraid of some teasing?


"Domestic violence? I guess you do really wear the pants in the relationship!" I looked up. Fucking Parker Owen. He crossed his arms over his olive skinned, toned chest, flicking back his black hair. I shot to my feet, glaring at him. Sure, he was gorgeous and rugged and handsome with that five o' clock shadow, but this was the man who had tried to seduce Quincy!


"Ah, so I'm right!" Parker boosted, raising his eyebrow. I hissed lowly at the captain. After what I had just done, I was in no mood for this. "Tell me, Ash baby. Does he also take it like a girl?" Parker didn't stand a chance. My fist connected perfectly with his jaw. I had over powered him last week, and lord knows I could do it again. He stumbled back, fingers instantly flying to the bruised skin, checking for broken bones.


"Fuck off, Parks. You don't know anything." I was screaming, voice bubbling with hatred. On the outside, I was fuming. On the inside, however, I was panicking. Where was Quincy? Would he ever talk to me again?


"Such a violent guy," Parker muttered, heading towards the door. "But, I'll warn you- Keep shoving around Quin like that, and you won't get off so easy."


What was that? Did Parker care about Quincy? Maybe, under all that cocky manliness, he was soft. There was no time to think about Parker. I got dressed quickly and sped from the door. You have been directed to an automated voice message system Quincy is not aval- I shut my phone and instantly pressed redial. Fuck, he wasn't answering.


I ran to my car, phone on speaker, calling and calling like a mad man. Where was he!? After how I had embarrassed and rejected him, I wasn't surprised if he never answered my calls ever again. With great panicked hast, I drove around the school, eyes scanning every place I could. School was over, and there wasn't a soul in sight. Quincy was my best friend. He had been for so many years now…


Carl's Coffee! If I knew my best friend, he'd go to get a hot caramel mocha, extra foam, with skim. That was the drink he always ordered when he was upset.


I slammed my foot down on the pedal, driving like a madman. I reached the coffee house in under five minutes.


The door shut with a wham! behind me as I ran into the little shop, heart pounding out of control, my fearful eyes scanning the café. I let out a sigh of relief. God, he was so predictable. He was sitting in his favorite big brown couch, knees to his chest, cupping a steaming mug. His eyes were red- he had been crying. I took a second to compose myself. Even with a red face, Quincy looked like a perfect angel. I knew the effect the looks had on him, but did he even have a clue what he did to me?


I plopped next to him. He didn't even look up from his mug, intently watching the swirling liquid. I couldn't take it, him avoiding my gaze like that. All I wanted to do was grab him, kiss him, heal him… But we were in public!


"Hey, you," I finally had the courage to say, resting my hand on his little knee. He jerked back. That stung deeply, Quincy had never recoiled from me. I reached out, fingers gently pushing back his brown hair. "Talk to me," I whispered, urging him to look me in the eyes.


"Don't. Touch. Me." His voice had this harsh, distinct quality I had never heard before. It was if I touched fire. My hand yanked away quickly, my heart aching. "You wouldn't want others to see." Ah, so he understood. That was true, I didn't want others to see… What's more, though, I wanted Quincy. It finally hit me, sitting there on that couch, people buzzing around, munching on biscotti's. As much as I was scared of being rejected by my peers, I was more scared of being rejected by my best friend, and my lover. I would take months, no, years of teasing if it meant keeping Quincy at my side.


"Oh, fuck it," I murmured under my breath. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I reached out, tangling my hands in Quincy's soft brown hair. I yanked him in close, my lips fitting perfectly with his. The world stood still, our lips trapped together. I could hear his soft whimpers against my lips, as well as the crash of his mug hitting the floor.


His little hands deathgripped my shirt. I could tell he was shaking. Oh, Quincy. How did his cuteness have such an effect on me? How could I have ever hurt such a gorgeous angel?


He pulled back first, buring his face in my neck. People were staring. It was probably due to the broken mug on the floor. I, at first, felt instantly humiliated. What was about to happen? To my surprise, there were no shouts of "FAG!", no fist being thrown, no family values being ruined.


A waitress did come up to us, though, broom in hand. "Everything okay?" She asked, genuinely concerned as she swept up the broken shards of porcelain. Quincy was still hidden against me, clinging for dear life. I wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him protectively.


"Yes, ma'am," I responded, flicking back my blond hair. "He's not feeling very well. I'm sorry for the commotion." With that, I stood up, pulling Quincy with me. The entire walk back to the car, he was pressed to my side, wordless.


We slipped into my car. I turned it on, reaching for the gear change when Quincy placed his hands on mine. "Asher, I'm… I'm sorry. I just…" He was flustered, thin hands trying to gesticulate. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, watching him. This seemed to fluster him even more- he always lost his words whenever he knew I was looking at him.


"When I'm around you- Don't look at me like that! I can't concentrate! It's just, whenever I see you, all I want to do is hug you, is kiss you. I'm sorry. I can't pretend like you're just my friend… That would be so cruel of you to ask me to do. I understand if you aren't ready, I just… how do I contain myself around you, Asher?" My heart melted, and it took every ounce of self control not to throw him in the back seat and take him right there. I blushed, remembering that night when I did take him. How good he felt, wrapped around me, the look of pleasure on his face.


"You won't have to worry about that ever again. Be my boyfriend, Quincy." Quincy looked up, shocked. "Please," I added, still ashamed of how violently I had lashed out at him in the locker room.


Quincy, with big blue eyes that made me dizzy, nodded. I pulled out of the parking lot, towards the boy's house. He rested his hand on my leg the entire ride home. "Stay with me, tonight," Quincy asked shyly as we approached his house. How could I turn down that angelic face?


"But, I don't have any pajamas-"


"Then I guess you sleep naked." Quincy blushed as he said it, a goofy smile on his face. I laughed and shoved him gently, playfully. He may have been my lover, but he was still my best friend.


With a chuckle, I kissed his cheek, muttering against his soft skin in my husky, low voice that always drove him wild: "But there's school tomorrow. You sure you want to risk not being able to sit?" My hand slide down, squeezing his ass seductively. The brunette responded exactly as I thought he would. He gasp and moan softly, flustered at the idea. He shoved my hand away, scrambling out of the car and running towards the house.


I smiled, watching from the car as he struggled to get the door open. I was in love with this dithering Junior, and I knew that no matter what, he had my heart.

Copyright © 2011 ChaseRose; All Rights Reserved.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental. Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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