9. Weston
CHAPTER 9
"I like seeing you in your pajamas," Quinn told Weston over video chat. Stream was long over, dinner had been hastily made and consumed, and his stream VOD had been uploaded to YouTube. He was fucking tired. Quinn had left on Monday, and three days later, Weston was still missing him.
Staying casual was going to need to be the focus of whatever they were doing. Even if that thesis statement ran counter to their actual behavior.
"Can't help but notice you're not wearing pajamas," Weston observed. Quinn's shoulders were bare. He was lying in his actual bed back in the duplex.
"I cannot believe how much laundry I've been doing these last few days. I'm trying to get caught up, and it's a full-time job, so I'm glad I don't have one of those anymore."
"You'll find something. You're amazing." They had exchanged Instagram handles, and Quinn's work was remarkable, particularly when it came to hand lettering.
Quinn shrugged. He was humble, and it turned Weston on.
"Speaking of, I made you something."
"What did you make me?" Weston was thinking a friendship bracelet, or a cupcake he wouldn't be able to eat.
"Can I share my screen with you?"
Weston nodded, brow furrowing in anticipation as Quinn fiddled with settings.
And then all at once, Weston's screen was filled with bright color, gorgeous lettering, and little bats.
"I know you've mentioned a few times that you're not super into your branding, and since I got laid off, I decided to just do a project…"
Quinn was blushing in the tiny corner of Weston's screen. "Holy shit, Q."
"I'm sorry if it's too much, or weird or something."
"No, it's perfect. This is exactly my vibe." There were drips of green acid and a streak of purple through his name. The bat was also the dot in the I of MidWeston. "I can't stop looking at it. Thank you."
"I've been trying to feel…any creativity lately. Work has had me just scraping the bottom of an empty barrel. But I was excited to do this, so no pressure for you to use it. I made you a bunch of assets and can adjust for whatever you need. ‘Starting soon,' ‘back in five,' social media–sized stuff. Whatever, all of it. If you want it."
"Uh, yeah, I do. How much do you charge for this kind of thing?" Weston couldn't imagine how many hours went into this. He'd had to buy a new hard drive the month before, so his bank account was already hurting. The streams with Quinn were helping, but he didn't have expendable income for a rebrand.
"It's a gift. For the advice, and the mic, and everything. The companionship through some rough months. I'm not going to spring something on you and then ask you to pay for it."
Thank god. He wanted to pay Quinn for it. He deserved to be paid for his efforts. But Weston had medical bills, credit card debt, rent, and a thousand other things he needed to pay for.
"Thank you. I'm so fucking impressed. It's so beautiful, and I can't stop looking at it." Quinn was legitimately talented. "I'd say you should do this professionally, but you do."
Quinn rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to show my appreciation. I'll send over what I have now, and if there are gaps to fill, or you need changes, I'm happy to make edits."
"Is this what you've been up to all week?"
"Yeah. And I moved back to the duplex. I never got to a point where it felt like home here, so I want that to be my next project."
"Like, painting?"
"No. Well, maybe. Just emotionally moving in."
"Have you seen Hunter?"
"Not yet. He's been working a lot. I don't leave my house for much. Saw my brother, though. That was nice."
"Glad to hear it. Can't wait to hear about Hunter loving you again."
Quinn laughed. "Yeah, me too. We'll see how that goes. I think it bodes well that Jon doesn't hate me. He's pretty mama bear about Hunter, so if Hunter hated me beyond repair, he probably would, too."
Weston yawned and grabbed his bat to cuddle. It was late, even for him, and he tried his best to stick to a sleep schedule.
"I'll let you go. I'm glad you like the rebrand."
"I love it. I'll see you in chat tomorrow."
Sienna Kathryn Davidson was Weston's first girlfriend. Hers was the first sweaty little hand he held, and the first lip-gloss-sticky lips he kissed. They broke up before they reached an age where their peers were having sex, and they never did either. But they were the two sick kids in their small graduating class. It wasn't the most fun thing to bond over, but they were still friends after all these years.
"I have a BOGO for Bean House on the app, so we're going there first," she told Weston in lieu of a greeting as he climbed into her car. It was Saturday, and Weston not only had an entire day off, but so did Sienna. Their regular date was going to bookstores together. New, used, chain, indie, whatever. Weston wasn't as into reading as Sienna was, but she found it easier to have a conversation while they were doing something other than staring at each other, and he couldn't convince her to play video games with him.
"How are you doing?" she asked. It was a formal question. How was his body doing? How was his celiac?
"Honestly, pretty okay. I'm feeling as normal as I can be. You?" Sienna didn't have celiac disease. She had Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a connective tissue disease, as well as a handful of other issues that generally came along with it.
"I had about five doctor's appointments this week, which went about as well as they usually do. I don't understand why people get into medicine if they don't actually want to treat anyone. It's too expensive to go to the doctor if you're faking."
As a woman, Sienna got more medical pushback than Weston did, and it was bullshit.
"The cute receptionist was there, though."
"You should give him your number."
"He has every piece of my information." She turned in to the Bean House drive-through and gave their order.
Weston fished out his credit card as they rounded to the window to pay. "He's not allowed to use that information. HIPPA."
"Whatever. I'm not dating anyone."
"Dating is so much work."
"Too much work." She handed the card over to the barista. Weston got a cold brew. He was already too caffeinated, so he didn't know why he was doing this to himself. "The hookup plan is flawless."
Sienna had come to the same conclusion he had. Anyone they dated would dump them at the first sign of illness (of which there were many), and then you had to deal with a broken heart and a flare.
"I think I might have hopefully a regular-ish hookup?"
"Your sentence has forty-five qualifiers in it. What does that actually mean?"
"One of my regulars in stream. He's great. Lives in the Cities."
"Have you met him?"
"He came to stay with me last weekend?" He asked it like a question, as though that would soften her reaction.
"You're a dumbass. That's so unsafe."
He took a sip of his coffee. Cold brew with sweet cream.
"Let's revisit my spotty will to live."
"Point. Was it good?"
"Yup," he declared. They rarely shared details about bedroom stuff unless something objectively funny happened, so he kept it short and sweet.
"Nice. Let's get a couple shots for TikTok before we go into the store," she said, parking in front of an indie bookstore. Weston liked it because it not only had a big rainbow flag on the front of it, but it also had a pan flag behind the counter. It was good to be seen.
Sienna was a chronic illness influencer, and Weston knew he'd be in her TikTok she posted later. He should probably make a TikTok video too. Keeping up with social media when he already spent so much time streaming was exhausting. Fun, but exhausting. His TikTok was mostly just clips from streaming.
"What are you doing for Halloween? I can't decide if I want to sew something new, or if I want to reuse a past costume."
"I'll probably just put some face paint on for stream. Maybe a wig."
The bookshop was small, but their used selection was always interesting. It smelled like books and coffee and had the warm, comfortable ambiance of someone's living room.
"You're streaming on Halloween?" Sienna asked, her head tilted to read the book spines in front of her.
"It's a Wednesday. What are you doing?"
"My sister is having a Halloween party for my niece's entire class, since her birthday is the thirtieth. I'm going to go be a responsible adult. And then once that's over, it's basically Thanksgiving, then basically Christmas, then basically next year."
"Wow. Are we on for Thanksgiving?" Weston's family could be difficult to be around on food-based holidays, so he usually skipped Thanksgiving with them. For the last few years, he'd gone to Sienna's mom's house and brought his own food.
"Fuck. I'm going to Wisconsin, since my dad's wife just had a baby and I haven't been able to see her yet. I'm sorry."
"Oh, yeah, of course. It's super exciting to go see a new baby."
"It's weird to have a half-sibling when I'm so old already, but hopefully my dad does a better job on this second family than he did on his first."
"Twenty-six years is a big gap."
"Good thing I like babies. And his wife is sweet. I think I'm going to do a lot of the cooking, since my dad is useless in so many aspects of life, including the kitchen. I'm sorry if this means you're going to have to go to your folks' place."
"Oh, god no. I'll just lie and tell them the same thing I usually tell them. That I'm going to eat in peace at your place. And then maybe I'll stream for the people who don't like the holiday or are on their own."
"Your entire life doesn't have to be streaming, you know."
"Yeah, but the paycheck is pretty important. I want to keep this a viable option for paying for my life for as long as I can."
"Are you saving?"
"I'm barely paying my bills, honestly, so I will not be buying a book today. But I'm making more now than I have been, and I've scraped along."
"Shit."
"One thing that's nice about Quinn visiting me last weekend is that our streams made basically double what I make on my own."
"Oh wow. Cash cow Quinn."
Weston nodded slowly. "And they were more fun. It's nice to have someone to play off of who isn't a cartoon Italian plumber."
"Is he single?"
"Yeah, but he's just looking for casual, too."
"Is he coming back?"
"We've talked about it."
"If he can help get those bills paid, he's gotta make another appearance."
"I like him as a person, as well."
Sienna shrugged and put the book she'd been looking at back on the shelf. "Then he's the full package."
She was cynical about boys, and Weston didn't blame her. She'd been through some shit. Weston was pretty sure that he wanted Quinn to come back up just because he liked him. But he couldn't deny the allure of financial stability.
"Where is Q?" Weston read from his chat, twenty minutes into his game. He was speedrunning a game on the Nintendo64 that he'd played when he was a kid, and getting through it was all muscle memory. It must be what musicians felt like when they played a song they'd memorized. "I dunno, man, I'm not his mom. Jeez, you guys are bigger simps for him than I am."
It was impossible to get through a stream without someone asking about Quinn, and if he was in chat with them, they harassed the two of them about streaming together again. It was nice that everyone was in agreement that it was the most fun when he and Quinn were together. He didn't know how long it would keep his viewers interested, but he was getting more and more convinced that he should wrangle Quinn to come up again. Maybe soon.
His phone lit up on his desktop with a text, and he quickly peeked at it. There were people who could speedrun the game he was playing literally blindfolded, and while he couldn't, he could peek at a text or chat regularly.
Quinn: Sorry I'm not there. I am hanging out in my basement with the furnace guy who is hopefully going to make my house warm again.
Weston couldn't help the smile on his face. He'd always liked the tingly feeling of having a crush. The way he could get flustered so easily by so little. It felt fun and light and innocent.
He peeked at chat, and he was already seeing that his viewers knew who had just sent him a message. "Yes, I know what Q is up to now. He's doing homeowner shit."
His brain was focused on the phone on his desk and the teasing in the chat as viewers guessed what the text "actually" said, and even though he had played this game probably eighty times, he fell off the edge of a castle in the sky and had to start the level over.
"Shit. Alright, don't tell Q that happened," he joked.
His streams weren't all about Quinn. There were a dozen regular, chatty viewers who heavily contributed to their community, and even more who popped in when they had a specific thought to add. Most viewers would never chat, but he appreciated them, too.
When Weston was a sick kid, home alone from school again, he would watch the home shopping networks—the original shopping livestreams that ran twenty-four hours a day and had regular hosts he grew attached to over the years. The few times he'd admitted that out loud, he'd been made fun of for it, but it wasn't his fault he'd been a lonely child. Now, he wanted to be that regular comfort for someone who needed a live human presence in their day, whether they worked from home, or stayed home with their young kids, or weren't able to leave their house often for any number of reasons. He would have loved to feel like he was sitting next to a friend, watching them play video games, when he was young.
Shana had an art show this coming weekend in Texas, and Holloway just got his driver's license in Calgary, two things he'd heard a lot about in the last few months. Yeah, he was missing Quinn, but even when Quinn got bored with him, Weston would still be left with a lot of amazing people.
Quinn was getting better. Weston could tell in how his chatting had changed over the last several months. He could tell by how much energy he had now for things he'd let fall to the wayside. He could tell from the things Quinn told him. How many good days he'd had recently. And if Weston could tell he was getting better, he must be. Weston wasn't there with him. He only recently started talking on the phone or doing video chats with him.
Weston's streams had been a place for Quinn to come rest and heal. It was an honor to provide that space for him. And it had been fun to flirt, to make out, to fall asleep next to him. But everything in life was ephemeral. Weston was just going to enjoy it while it lasted.