25. Weston

CHAPTER 25

"That is just about a cup of only whipped cream at this point," Quinn said, unable to stop smiling as Weston refilled his hot cocoa.

"Whipped cream is the best part." He had a lapel mic clipped to his shirt. Quinn wore a matching one. It was a Sunday night, a week away from Christmas, and Quinn still hadn't decorated his house. Hunter was the one who'd suggested the two of them decorate on the stream, and Weston and Quinn had driven over to Quinn's parents' condo to grab the Christmas decor they weren't using. Quinn's folks had a mini tree in their RV. They would head to Canada for Christmas, since they'd spent Thanksgiving in Wisconsin. Syd was going to her partner's parents' house for break. He and Quinn would celebrate with Jon and Hunter again, and for the first time in a while, he was excited for the holiday.

Quinn's living room overflowed with boxes. His mom had a lot of decorations, and while they had only taken the tree, some ornaments, and a few other bits and bobs, it still looked like an elf threw up in there. At least they'd finally unpacked the moving boxes. Weston was touched that Quinn had let him help, since it had become an emotional task and a physical one.

"I always forget what the next step is," Quinn said as Weston walked back into frame, his mug dutifully overflowing with whipped cream.

"Probably lights? Chat? What do we do next?" Their setup was haphazard, with Weston's computer on a stack of books on the couch and the camera on a tripod on the coffee table, but it was working, and they had a lot of viewers.

Since Quinn had started regularly appearing on Weston's channel, his numbers had improved. He was still making more than double a regular stream when Quinn was there, and he had more regular viewers now, even when Quinn wasn't there. They had a lot of internet strangers invested in their relationship. He got it. There was a level of escapism that came with watching a couple be adorable and happy. Like you could disappear into it the way you disappear into a novel or a movie or a video game.

He sipped his cocoa, purposefully getting whipped cream on his nose, as he read the comments. "Yeah, lights next."

"Stop, you're too cute. It's illegal," Quinn said, wiping the whipped cream off for him. A PG move. He could have made a more risqué choice to lick it off, but Quinn understood he wanted to stay wholesome. He didn't want to give any kid's parent a reason to keep their kid from watching his content.

"Okay, well, I guess we're untangling an entire bin of Christmas lights." When in doubt on stream, narrate what you're doing.

"Nikki is wondering if they're white lights or colorful lights. They are all the colors of the rainbow," Quinn said. He handed Weston the extension cord to test if the lights still worked, and they both cheered when Weston plugged a string in and it came to life.

Weston remembered times like these when he was little, before he got sick. Before his mom and his sister got super religious and their whole family dynamic changed. They would put up the Christmas tree as a family and decorate it with ornaments he and Christy had made over the years, as well as ornaments his mom had collected. Usually those bitter memories made it hard to find enjoyment in decorating, hence how his apartment had looked before Quinn gave it a winter makeover. Decorating with Quinn, of course, was different. Casual. There was something soft about it.

When the Christmas decorations came down in January, Quinn had plans for how he was going to decorate his place post-holiday. How he was going to really move into the space. Weston listened to him tell those in the stream that he wanted his siblings to stay whenever they showed up. He wanted a permanent, comfortable place for Weston to stream and for him to do the freelance graphic design work that was coming in more and more reliably.

Hunter helped Quinn make a Pinterest board, which was sweet, and Quinn kept asking Weston how he felt about different things. He and Quinn were trying out the living arrangements Quinn proposed, where they stayed together and moved back and forth between Minneapolis and Duluth, but Weston knew his attachment to Duluth was looser than Quinn's attachment to Minneapolis. Quinn had a mortgage here and a support system. When Quinn asked his opinion on the couch he wanted to buy, it felt like they were deciding on their couch. Eventually, Weston wanted to call this house his home, too.

Weston finished untangling the first strand, and he and Quinn wrapped it around the lowest section of the tree. It covered such a small portion of the tree. At this rate, decorating this tree would take forever. That was okay. They had all the time in the world.

Once Weston got settled in Minneapolis, he didn't want to leave. When he and Quinn had discussed the way they would split their time, they'd left it up to vibes. This wasn't a divorce agreement. However, he had thought he would want to be in his own space more.

Quinn's duplex was great, though. He bought a new couch for the second bedroom and helped get Weston's streaming setup dialed in. He even put up fake snow and twinkle lights as his temporary backdrop. Weston was even starting to think the Christmas decorations were nice. His stuffed bat had an official spot on Quinn's bed next to Quinn's Ikea puppy.

"Are you sure you don't want to go see your parents?" Quinn asked him. It was noon on Christmas, and after opening the couple of gifts they'd bought each other and having brunch with Jon and Hunter, who bought Weston a Minneapolis crewneck with MPLS across the front, they'd ended up back in bed. It was a crisp, cold day out, and it was snowing dry, wispy flakes that Jon had already been outside to shovel. Later, he'd have to leave to go plow, and they'd already invited Hunter over to hang out when Jon was gone.

"Fuck my parents," Weston said. "They don't care if I'm happy. They always have some negative shit to say, and I don't enjoy my time with them. There's no reason for me to see them. I barely celebrate this holiday as it is."

"Thank you for celebrating with me."

"I'll celebrate every holiday with you so long as we can do it like this." Weston knew Quinn had a childhood full of magical Christmas memories, and that it was hard that his family was scattered. It didn't stop him from enjoying his day though, and Weston wouldn't let his family stop him either.

"Thank you for the markers and the new sketchbook," Quinn said, his face pressed to the back of Weston's neck. Weston had scoured Quinn's Instagram for supply preferences. "I'm excited to draw again."

"Thanks for the emulator." Quinn bought him a gaming device that looked like a GameBoy but had about a million games on it. He could even stream what he was playing. "Speaking of video games, I was thinking about how good of a team we make."

He got a good squeeze from Quinn. "True."

"I know that joining my streams used to be occasional and casual. But I was thinking that it's only fair to officially cut you in."

"We talked about this. You don't need to. It's your thing."

"I make over double when you're there."

"Oh, shit."

"People like us."

"I like us."

"Me too," Weston laughed. He turned around in Quinn's arms to face him. "I know this whole thing started as you exploring an interest in streaming."

"I think you've probably figured out that my interest was in you, not streaming."

"I had an inkling."

"I love streaming with you. Not super interested in starting my own thing."

"What if you joined me in a more official capacity? If the money keeps being so good, we could cut back to four or five days a week instead of six."

"You want me to be your cohost?" Quinn looked pleasantly surprised. "But you built this thing from the ground up."

"And now I want you to be a part of it. If you want."

"Yes, baby, I want." He kissed Weston, nice and slow, his hands roaming over Weston's body. They were both naked, but they'd come too recently for the kissing and touching to go anywhere. It didn't need to go anywhere, which was one of his favorite things about Quinn—all of the non-sexual affection he got from him. And yes, the sex was great, but Weston didn't want sex every second of the day. He wanted this. He wanted a partner.

"When did you want to go up to Duluth next?"

"Maybe in the new year?"

"You just say when."

"It's hard to decide to leave when I'm so warm in your bed."

They could keep playing it by ear. There was no rush.