(no subject)
Title: It Still Is. (The Sequel to It’s Worth it)
Author: me, Chelsea
Rating: NC 17
Summary: It’s here we find out if Jepha and Quinn are still going strong.
Pairing:Jeph Howard/Quinn Allman
Disclaimer:Don’t own, didn’t happen, get over it
Dedication: blacknovember13because this was her story, and always will be. And to anyone who read the first one. Here’s what you asked for. The second coming of Mormon Quinn. Only..not really.
Notes: all 19 chapters of the first story found in fakehappyending.
Jeph’s POV
I was just thinking the other day about that first moment when I told Quinn that I loved him. I can still feel every part of it, the nervousness, the fear, and the relief when he told me that he loved me too. I hadn’t really thought about it in a while. And it’s not so much that I forgot about it so much as it is that it seems like that was such a long time ago. But I guess memories like that never really fade away. I sure as hell don’t want them to.
That was the start of the rest of my life.
I bet you’re all wondering what happened after that. Are we still together? Do we hate each other? Did I finally get over my huge ego for good? (Personally I never thought I had a huge ego. I just like to say that I was sure of myself. Others have told me different. And by others I mean certain blonde-headed men with hot asses) Well, that last one I’m not so sure about. But I’ll let you be the judge of that one.
I guess I’ll start back with that day at the church, with what happened afterwards. It seems weird to jump forward to today when so much happened in the past that needs to be accounted for.
We left the church together that day, and we went back to my house. The most surprising thing is, we didn’t have sex. It’s not that I didn’t want to (trust me on that one), it’s that for once, I actually wanted the time to be right for it. The thought of this alone scared the piss out of me, because I could already see that mentally and emotionally, I was changing. For the better or worse, I didn’t know at that time. I wanted to take things slowly though, and happily, Quinn agreed.
We didn’t really even talk much that night if I remember correctly, which might seem weird, but for us seemed right. We just sat on my couch, turned the tv to an old horror movie marathon, and curled up in each other’s arms until the sun came up. We were just content with being with each other, because for that minute in time, the outside world didn’t matter, what would happen tomorrow wouldn’t matter. We were the center of our own universe, because it seemed finally that all the chips were falling into place, and that was exactly where we needed to be.
I know I’m sounding like a $2 romance novel right about now, but I can’t help it. I get nostalgic when I think of that night.
I also know that right now you’re probably realizing how much I’ve changed, just from that simple memory alone. And yeah, I’m not the same person anymore. I mean I haven’t totally changed my personality (Quinn says he wouldn’t want me to, that was one of the things he fell in love with.), but I’m not so cynical, deceiving, uncaring. In some ways, I actually act human now.
And I can honestly say, that things have changed for the better.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
That next morning, we both had a sense that things might get a little hard to handle. We knew that the Mormons across the hall had seen Quinn come in here again last night. People make assumptions. It wasn’t going to be pretty. We braced it together though, hand in hand like we have many times afterwards when things have been thrown our way.
Needless to say, Quinn left the Mormon church. It wasn’t as easy for him as you probably think though, nor did it happen quickly. It was only after many hateful comments and threats from other missionaries that he finally couldn’t take it anymore. Leaving the church was hard for him because it was something that meant a lot to him. It was something that meant a lot to his family. In short, he felt like a failure. And there was more than one night where I would wake up at 2 am to him crying softly from a dream or thought he had just had. I know he felt stupid about how upset he was about it. But I assured him that it was okay to feel that way. Now, I’m not exactly an expert in comforting people, (meaning I have never comforted someone before without a sarcastic undertone), but I really tried to make him feel better.
Telling his parents was another obstacle we had to overcome. Actually, he didn’t really tell them. When he left the church and his parents found out, they had guessed why. Granted, they didn’t know about me yet. We’ll save that story for later on. When they found out that he left the church, they got his phone number. We had just gotten back from going out to dinner together when we saw the red light beeping on the answering machine.
I’ll never forget what it said.
It was his dad’s voice, hard and cold, full of anger and hatred. You could hear his mother crying in the background.
Quinn, this is your father. Although after this message I will no longer consider you my son. Your mother and I found out today about your leaving the church, needless to say we are disappointed. You don’t even have to explain. We know why. It’s because you’re a fucking faggot. I thought that I had beaten the phase out of you back when you were 11, but apparently I haven’t. You are disgusting. How could you do something like this? How could you bring this shame upon your mother and I? Most of all, yourself? Do you have no dignity? You know what happens to those people Quinn. Or did your missionary training teach you nothing? You are going to hell you little faggot. And it’s what you deserve. I wouldn’t want to be in a heaven with your kind of people. You’re unnatural and sinful, so have your fun now, but in the end you will get what you deserve. You will burn for this. And frankly, I’m glad. God will never forgive you for this, and neither will I.
So don’t write, we’ll rip up your letters. Don’t call, we won’t answer. Don’t stop by, we’ll call the police.
You are dead to me.
When the message finished playing, I swear my heart had stopped. I looked over at Quinn to find his face blank and his body tense. Then in a second, he collapsed on the floor, shaking and sobbing. I held him while he cried, kissed his head and told him I loved him. I didn’t tell him that things would be okay, because I honestly didn’t know if they would be or not.
I was angry. I didn’t understand how someone who supposedly loved Quinn so much would say something like that. Of course, I had dealt with the same thing when my parents found out about me, but I had never been close to my parents, so I didn’t really care what they thought. It was obvious Quinn did. You could practically see his heart breaking.
We talked that night, all night. Well actually, he did most of the talking. I guess he had a lot of things bottled up inside him that had followed him around all these years about his parents. He told me about the intense bible studies they would have late into the night when he was a kid. He told me about how his parents ignored him most of his life, and only talked to him when they were instilling the fear of God into him. But what hurt me the most, was the story he told about when he was 11 years old, he held hands with a boy and his dad saw. He said that it seemed like something inside his dad had snapped that moment, and he dragged Quinn into the house and beat him until he had to be sent to the hospital for a few days. Quinn cried silently as he told the story, and I hugged him tight all the way through. He had never told anyone any of these things, and I felt honored to have him open up to me.
His dad had been pushing him to be a missionary his entire life. And one of the reasons Quinn had a hard time accepting the fact that he was gay was because he didn’t want to go to hell. That thought scared the shit out of him. He only wanted to make his parents proud, and felt like a failure because he hadn’t been able to do that.
I waited until he was done talking before I spoke. It just seemed like the right thing to do. And when I did I told him that his dad was wrong, not him. I told him he was one of the most amazing people I had ever met, that he was good and kind and sweet and loving. So what if he didn’t like girls? I told him that if heaven was a place where good people like him weren’t allowed in because of who they were attracted to, then I didn’t want to go anyway. I asked him what kind of God he believed in. If God is as good if everyone says he is, he would love you no matter what.
I told him that I loved him.
I didn’t tell him that his parents would come around.
Luckily I don’t think he expected me to. I think I said what he wanted to hear. And with my little experience on comforting people, this was a major accomplishment. When I was finished talking, he smiled a little, wiped away his tears, and kissed me softly. He whispered “Thank you.” And I knew things would be okay.
I knew that Quinn was starting to heal from the whole thing with his parents, but even after a few months, I could tell he was still hurting. I couldn’t stand to see him in pain. And now, you guys know, I can be something of a stubborn asshole when I want to be. I don’t like to say that I went behind Quinn’s back, but I guess I did in a way. Basically, I got his dad’s phone number and called him, telling him I was a business client and needed to meet with him right away.
I was lying for a good cause okay?
So I met up with his dad at where else, the church. I sat down with him in the pew right where I had told Quinn that I loved him. I looked him in the eyes and gave the speech that I had rehearsed in my head over and over on the way here.
This is how it went.
I could tell that his dad was the kind of person that meant business. So I jumped straight to the point. I spoke confidently and strongly, the way I had done with so many people before me. I could probably manipulate him into getting what I wanted (after all, I am a master at blackmailing), but this time I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to be honest.
In short, I was in uncharted territory. And I was nervous as hell.
I took a breath and looked him in the eyes. “Mr. Allman, my name is Jeph Howard. I am not a business client, but there is something I need to discuss with you.” He didn’t say anything when I paused, and I took this as a sign to continue. “For you see sir, I am in a bit of a dilemma. I am in love with your son Quinn, and his heart is broken because you don’t love him anymore.”
At the mention of his son’s name, Quinn’s dad tensed and glared, spitting out. “I have no son.”
I rolled my eyes at that. “Yes sir, you do. And he is a wonderful person who I would do anything for.”
I could see his fists clenching. “He’s a faggot.”
I could feel my anger rise a little bit with the mention of that word. “No. He’s gay. Technically a fagot is a bundle of sticks. Don’t believe me? Look it up.” I smirked a bit and his glare deepened, but he didn’t say a word. “That message you left on our machine, destroyed a part of him, and maybe that’s what you set out to do. You asked if he had no dignity, and I have to pose the same question unto you. Think about it sir. What kind of father does that make you? Does it make you feel like a bigger person to shoot him down? Do you feel good about yourself? Do you think God will love you more because you turned away your son?”
“I, well-“
I didn’t let him finish what he was going to say, this was my time to talk. “Because he won’t Mr. Allman. Just like God won’t love Quinn any less for being gay. Do you have any idea how hard it is for anyone to realize that they are of a different sexuality? It is the fucking scariest thing anyone can go through. And don’t even think for one second that it’s easy. Quinn had it harder than most, because he had you and God looming over his shoulder while he tried to figure himself out.”
I paused to see if he would say anything again, but he didn’t. He wasn’t even looking at me any more, he was looking at the ground. So I continued after taking a deep breath. “Mr. Allman, I’m not saying that you have to like the fact that Quinn is gay, but you do have to accept it. Because no matter who he fucks, he’s still your son, your flesh and blood. He carries your last name and you helped to create him.” I paused and sighed. “But right now, you also have the power to destroy him.” At this he looked back up at me. “I’m not asking you to come live with us or anything. What I am asking is for you to make peace with him. First though, you need to make peace with yourself.”
I felt like I was about to cry for some reason, and I never get like this. Nevertheless, I continued in my speech. “Sir, I love your son. It’s taken us a long time to get where we are now. And I’m asking you all this not just for his sake, but for mine too. He is in the position right now to where he might go back to the way he was, lying to himself about who he is. I don’t want that to happen. I can’t lose him. I really can’t. Don’t take the best thing that has ever happened to me away.” I breathed in and composed myself for the most part. “It kills me to see him like he is right now. He says he’s okay. But I know he’s hurting. I can see it in his eyes.”
His dad’s glare had softened by this point, and I could tell he had been paying attention to what I said. “You really…love him don’t you?” He asked hesitantly.
I nodded and smiled a bit. “Yeah. I really do.” I looked at him hard, and he could tell I was back to being serious. “So the choice is yours. You can either accept who he is, and try and love him anyway, or continue to kill him slowly with your silence.” I paused for a second. “No matter what though, you will not get rid of me. Even if you keep hurting him, I will stick by his side and pick up the pieces. I’m here to stay. So get used to me. And get used to the fact that we love each other.”
I didn’t wait for him to say anything. I just got up and left the church. He would need time to think over everything I just said. I hoped that I had done the right thing. I really did.
Two days later, Quinn got a phone call from his dad. They talked for 4 hours that day, 2 the next, and 3 the day after that. It’s not to say that his dad suddenly accepted him, it was a slow process. But over time and many long phone conversations, he finally started to get used to the idea. He never did tell Quinn that I met him in the church that day, I asked him not to. We’re all pretty close now, and it’s a nice feeling.
And I know the way I’m telling the story, it seems like Quinn was the only one to have problems, which wasn’t the case at all. Although I hate to admit it, I’ve had my weak points as well.
Because you have to realize this, this major change in myself that you can see, this caring person I have become, this all didn’t happen overnight. It was a long process. At first I tended to be very closed off about everything, I wasn’t used to having a committed relationship. There would be times when I wanted to call the whole thing off, because the intensity of it was too much to handle. We got through those times together though, and came out stronger than ever after them. There were times when I would lock myself in our room for hours on end, and Quinn knew that when I did this I just needed to be alone. He respected that and never asked questions. In reality I would just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the hell I was getting myself into. It was all so new, so scary. But I did know one thing.
It was good.
Of course we had other little pieces of drama come at us as well. But most couples do. It was never enough to break us up. I don’t think we’ve ever gotten to the point that we were that mad at each other.
And I know one thing that is probably on your minds is the sex. And what I say next may surprise you. Hell when I think about it, it surprises me.
We didn’t have sex again until our 1 year anniversary.
Coming from a former sex addict, that’s a big deal. And I can say honestly that I never slept around while I was with Quinn. And I never will. It was weird, not having sex all the time. I guess it was something that I had grown so accustomed to that it just seemed like more of a daily routine that something that actually meant something.
With Quinn though, I wanted it to mean something.
We both decided mutually to wait and have sex. It wasn’t something that we talked about, we just knew it was what the other wanted (by this point in time it was almost like we could read one another’s thoughts). Sure we did other things, things I enjoyed, a lot. But still, we waited before going all the way again.
I don’t think I can stress enough how big of a deal this was for me. I mean, my life used to be based on sex. And to go without it for a year? Let me tell you, it was rough. Hell, girls even started looking more attractive (I would never fuck one. But you get my point).
But when it did happen, it was all worth it.
We had just spent our anniversary at home, snuggled up on the couch, much like we had that first night we got together. The night was made up of small smiles and soft laughter, light kisses and whispered endearments. It was in short, perfect. Sex wasn’t on my mind surprisingly, it hardly ever was anymore for the most part (I mean it was, because gay or not, I am a guy. Guys love sex. That’s how God wanted it to be.)
At one point, Quinn looked up from the tv to me, smiled softly and kissed me. He ran his fingers softly down my cheek and I looked into his eyes. We whispered ‘I love you’ at the same time, and he jinxed me right afterwards (I still owe him a soda). I laughed softly and laced my fingers through his, squeezing his hand a little. He seemed to space out for a minute, and before I could ask him what was on his mind, he kissed me again, harder than before.
I knew what this kiss meant. Don’t ask me how I knew, I just did. Like I mentioned, by now it was as if we could read each other’s thoughts. I knew he was ready to go further, and I realized that I was ready for it too. I smiled softly at him and took his hand, stood up and lead him into the bedroom.
It was almost like we were doing this for the first time. There was a nervousness in the pit of my stomach that I had never felt before. And I liked it. We took it slow, not rushing through anything. We undressed each other slowly, taking in every inch of one another’s bodies. I kissed his collarbone softly as he undid my pants, the last article of clothing between us (I still had a thing about not wearing underwear). After we were both exposed we just sort of looked at each other. It was strange. I was used to the whole, ‘nice shoes let’s fuck in a bathroom stall’ deal. This time though, I actually wanted it to be good for him too. I was putting him before myself.
Never saw that coming did you?
I knew it would still be painful for him. As he laid back on the bed, me positioned between his legs, I was worried about that. He assured me he would be alright though. And it was only then that I coated my fingers in lube (that’s right, not spit), and began to stroke his cock as I slipped my fingers into them. He tensed at first, but relaxed after a minute. Soon he was pushing back against my hand, and I had found his prostate with my fingers. Small moans dropped from his lips and I knew he was ready.
I leaned in and kissed him as I coated my cock, placing a hand on his hip and looking into his eyes as I pressed into him. He took in a sharp breath and I ran my fingers softly over his stomach, stopping half way in to let him adjust. He was so tight, and it was hard for me not to just pound into him. I started moving forward again, and once I got all the way in I stopped again and leaned down and kissed him. Our tongues massaged against each other and he bit my bottom lip softly, letting me know I could move.
I thrust in and out of him slowly, deeply. I was taking my time, enjoying every second, and every feeling of the whole experience. This would be something to remember. Our breathing echoed back at each other, Quinn’s hands gripping my upper arms, my hands on his hips. His fingers dug into my skin as I hit his prostate, a moan of my name falling from him. I kissed along his neck as one of my hands reached down to his cock, stroking him in time with my thrusts, knowing we were both close.
I could feel it. That warm feeling that starts on the back of your legs and curls up into the small of your back, spreading around to your stomach. My vision was getting hazy and I was almost panting. I was completely lost in the feeling, lost in him, and nothing else mattered. We came at almost the same time, screaming each other’s names.
I pulled out of him and laid down, Quinn almost immediately curling up on my chest. I pulled the blanket up over us and whispered that I loved him. He returned it, and with a smile on my face, I fell asleep.
That right there, is one of the single best moments of my life. Not so much the sex part (though that in it’s own right, deserves a fucking medal), but in the after affects of it, that closeness you feel.
Every other sexual experience I have ever had has meant nothing. It never did. That was just fucking. It was a way to get off, a way to pass the time, meaningless and unfulfilling in the long run.
As much as I hate the words, because they make me feel like some sap, what Quinn and I did, was far from that. We didn’t fuck, we made love.
And it was beautiful. And good.
Trust me, I don’t use words like that lightly.
I don’t think up until this point, I had mentioned how long Quinn and I have actually been together. I got so caught up in telling the stories of how we got here that I forgot to mention where we are now.
You’re going to be surprised. I’m just warning you now.
Tomorrow, will be our 7th year anniversary.
That’s right. It was 7 years ago tomorrow that I approached Quinn in that church, scared shitless that my feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.
It’s been a great 7 years.
I could probably write a novel on everything that’s happened. Although I think people will get bored of the ramblings of a lovesick fool.
I also forgot that there were other people in my life that I haven’t mentioned yet either (surprisingly the world doesn’t revolve around him and I).
Remember Josh Keening and Adam Lazzara? My sex addict friend and his boyfriend?
They just had their 7th anniversary a couple weeks ago. Yes, they’re still together, and growing strong. Adam and Josh have stood by Quinn and I through every hardship that we’ve had. And we’ve stood by Josh and Adam through theirs. Because not all relationships are perfect, and sometimes you just need a shoulder to cry on.
Three years ago, Adam was diagnosed with HIV. I got a phone call from Josh late one night. He was sobbing and needless to say, I rushed over to his apartment and comforted the both of them. We were scared that Josh would have it too, luckily he hadn’t. Even through this, Josh and Adam have stayed together, and are strong now as ever. They are the best friends I will ever have, and when I think of how we all met it makes me laugh about how crazy life really is.
And I haven’t forgotten, that it was Josh and Adam that pushed me forward that day to go talk to Quinn. Without them, I don’t know if I would have everything I am so thankful for now. The four of us are like a big family, and there’s nothing that beats that feeling.
This brings me to another person who has made a big impact on my life.
His name is Austin, and he is four years old. Two years ago, Quinn and I adopted him, and my life has been changed forever since then. He is a beautiful child, black hair and grey eyes, and a smile that could make anyone weak in the knees. My little guy’s going to be a heartbreaker, I can just tell. His mother was a drug addict, and his father died before he was born. When we went to the adoption agency and saw that two year old boy, who didn’t look like anyone wanted to give him a chance, we were in love. We knew he was our son.
Nothing beats waking up in the morning to a little boy curled up in spider-man pajamas on your side. And when his eyes open and he calls you Daddy, you wonder how you ever got along without him in the first place. He brightens up my life, and I thank God every day for putting him there.
Now, I don’t want you to think that Quinn and I decided to adopt a kid just out of nowhere. We talked a lot about it. And I realized something very important.
Quinn is the only one I am ever going to want.
He is the only one I will ever need.
He is my soul mate.
I would live for him. I would kill for him.
I would die for him.
I want to spend the rest of my life with him.
He gave my life meaning. And he gave me strength when I needed it most. He helped me overcome my ego and brought me back down to Earth. He turned me from a selfish, arrogant, asshole, to a loving, caring father. I owe him my life. I owe him my heart. This man holds my very soul in the palm of his hand, and I know he’ll do nothing but take care of it. I trust him. I need him.
I love him. In every sense of the word.
Quinn and Austin complete my world, without them I would be nothing. It’s like I look back on that person I was 7 years ago, and I don’t even understand how I could be that way. I’m so different now. Being in love has changed me in the best way possible. And I wouldn’t change a thing about it now. I’m secure with him, with them, with my family. I’m happy. I’m complete.
Quinn asked me all those years ago, if I could give my old life up for him, and I told him back then that it was worth it. It was worth giving up the freedom of anonymous sex. It was worth giving up my life without inhibition. It was worth admitting to myself that I was in love.
And guess what?
It still is.
THE END
*****************************************************************
Wow. I never expected to write this. I really don’t do sequels. I spent a week on this, usually it takes me about an hour to write a chapter or something, but with this I wanted to do a good job. I wanted to do the last story justice.
I’m seriously thinking about writing a sequel chapter fic. We’ll see what happens. I’m too in love with these characters to let them go.
Tell me what you think.
Love always,
Chelsea
Author: me, Chelsea
Rating: NC 17
Summary: It’s here we find out if Jepha and Quinn are still going strong.
Pairing:Jeph Howard/Quinn Allman
Disclaimer:Don’t own, didn’t happen, get over it
Dedication: blacknovember13because this was her story, and always will be. And to anyone who read the first one. Here’s what you asked for. The second coming of Mormon Quinn. Only..not really.
Notes: all 19 chapters of the first story found in fakehappyending.
Jeph’s POV
I was just thinking the other day about that first moment when I told Quinn that I loved him. I can still feel every part of it, the nervousness, the fear, and the relief when he told me that he loved me too. I hadn’t really thought about it in a while. And it’s not so much that I forgot about it so much as it is that it seems like that was such a long time ago. But I guess memories like that never really fade away. I sure as hell don’t want them to.
That was the start of the rest of my life.
I bet you’re all wondering what happened after that. Are we still together? Do we hate each other? Did I finally get over my huge ego for good? (Personally I never thought I had a huge ego. I just like to say that I was sure of myself. Others have told me different. And by others I mean certain blonde-headed men with hot asses) Well, that last one I’m not so sure about. But I’ll let you be the judge of that one.
I guess I’ll start back with that day at the church, with what happened afterwards. It seems weird to jump forward to today when so much happened in the past that needs to be accounted for.
We left the church together that day, and we went back to my house. The most surprising thing is, we didn’t have sex. It’s not that I didn’t want to (trust me on that one), it’s that for once, I actually wanted the time to be right for it. The thought of this alone scared the piss out of me, because I could already see that mentally and emotionally, I was changing. For the better or worse, I didn’t know at that time. I wanted to take things slowly though, and happily, Quinn agreed.
We didn’t really even talk much that night if I remember correctly, which might seem weird, but for us seemed right. We just sat on my couch, turned the tv to an old horror movie marathon, and curled up in each other’s arms until the sun came up. We were just content with being with each other, because for that minute in time, the outside world didn’t matter, what would happen tomorrow wouldn’t matter. We were the center of our own universe, because it seemed finally that all the chips were falling into place, and that was exactly where we needed to be.
I know I’m sounding like a $2 romance novel right about now, but I can’t help it. I get nostalgic when I think of that night.
I also know that right now you’re probably realizing how much I’ve changed, just from that simple memory alone. And yeah, I’m not the same person anymore. I mean I haven’t totally changed my personality (Quinn says he wouldn’t want me to, that was one of the things he fell in love with.), but I’m not so cynical, deceiving, uncaring. In some ways, I actually act human now.
And I can honestly say, that things have changed for the better.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
That next morning, we both had a sense that things might get a little hard to handle. We knew that the Mormons across the hall had seen Quinn come in here again last night. People make assumptions. It wasn’t going to be pretty. We braced it together though, hand in hand like we have many times afterwards when things have been thrown our way.
Needless to say, Quinn left the Mormon church. It wasn’t as easy for him as you probably think though, nor did it happen quickly. It was only after many hateful comments and threats from other missionaries that he finally couldn’t take it anymore. Leaving the church was hard for him because it was something that meant a lot to him. It was something that meant a lot to his family. In short, he felt like a failure. And there was more than one night where I would wake up at 2 am to him crying softly from a dream or thought he had just had. I know he felt stupid about how upset he was about it. But I assured him that it was okay to feel that way. Now, I’m not exactly an expert in comforting people, (meaning I have never comforted someone before without a sarcastic undertone), but I really tried to make him feel better.
Telling his parents was another obstacle we had to overcome. Actually, he didn’t really tell them. When he left the church and his parents found out, they had guessed why. Granted, they didn’t know about me yet. We’ll save that story for later on. When they found out that he left the church, they got his phone number. We had just gotten back from going out to dinner together when we saw the red light beeping on the answering machine.
I’ll never forget what it said.
It was his dad’s voice, hard and cold, full of anger and hatred. You could hear his mother crying in the background.
Quinn, this is your father. Although after this message I will no longer consider you my son. Your mother and I found out today about your leaving the church, needless to say we are disappointed. You don’t even have to explain. We know why. It’s because you’re a fucking faggot. I thought that I had beaten the phase out of you back when you were 11, but apparently I haven’t. You are disgusting. How could you do something like this? How could you bring this shame upon your mother and I? Most of all, yourself? Do you have no dignity? You know what happens to those people Quinn. Or did your missionary training teach you nothing? You are going to hell you little faggot. And it’s what you deserve. I wouldn’t want to be in a heaven with your kind of people. You’re unnatural and sinful, so have your fun now, but in the end you will get what you deserve. You will burn for this. And frankly, I’m glad. God will never forgive you for this, and neither will I.
So don’t write, we’ll rip up your letters. Don’t call, we won’t answer. Don’t stop by, we’ll call the police.
You are dead to me.
When the message finished playing, I swear my heart had stopped. I looked over at Quinn to find his face blank and his body tense. Then in a second, he collapsed on the floor, shaking and sobbing. I held him while he cried, kissed his head and told him I loved him. I didn’t tell him that things would be okay, because I honestly didn’t know if they would be or not.
I was angry. I didn’t understand how someone who supposedly loved Quinn so much would say something like that. Of course, I had dealt with the same thing when my parents found out about me, but I had never been close to my parents, so I didn’t really care what they thought. It was obvious Quinn did. You could practically see his heart breaking.
We talked that night, all night. Well actually, he did most of the talking. I guess he had a lot of things bottled up inside him that had followed him around all these years about his parents. He told me about the intense bible studies they would have late into the night when he was a kid. He told me about how his parents ignored him most of his life, and only talked to him when they were instilling the fear of God into him. But what hurt me the most, was the story he told about when he was 11 years old, he held hands with a boy and his dad saw. He said that it seemed like something inside his dad had snapped that moment, and he dragged Quinn into the house and beat him until he had to be sent to the hospital for a few days. Quinn cried silently as he told the story, and I hugged him tight all the way through. He had never told anyone any of these things, and I felt honored to have him open up to me.
His dad had been pushing him to be a missionary his entire life. And one of the reasons Quinn had a hard time accepting the fact that he was gay was because he didn’t want to go to hell. That thought scared the shit out of him. He only wanted to make his parents proud, and felt like a failure because he hadn’t been able to do that.
I waited until he was done talking before I spoke. It just seemed like the right thing to do. And when I did I told him that his dad was wrong, not him. I told him he was one of the most amazing people I had ever met, that he was good and kind and sweet and loving. So what if he didn’t like girls? I told him that if heaven was a place where good people like him weren’t allowed in because of who they were attracted to, then I didn’t want to go anyway. I asked him what kind of God he believed in. If God is as good if everyone says he is, he would love you no matter what.
I told him that I loved him.
I didn’t tell him that his parents would come around.
Luckily I don’t think he expected me to. I think I said what he wanted to hear. And with my little experience on comforting people, this was a major accomplishment. When I was finished talking, he smiled a little, wiped away his tears, and kissed me softly. He whispered “Thank you.” And I knew things would be okay.
I knew that Quinn was starting to heal from the whole thing with his parents, but even after a few months, I could tell he was still hurting. I couldn’t stand to see him in pain. And now, you guys know, I can be something of a stubborn asshole when I want to be. I don’t like to say that I went behind Quinn’s back, but I guess I did in a way. Basically, I got his dad’s phone number and called him, telling him I was a business client and needed to meet with him right away.
I was lying for a good cause okay?
So I met up with his dad at where else, the church. I sat down with him in the pew right where I had told Quinn that I loved him. I looked him in the eyes and gave the speech that I had rehearsed in my head over and over on the way here.
This is how it went.
I could tell that his dad was the kind of person that meant business. So I jumped straight to the point. I spoke confidently and strongly, the way I had done with so many people before me. I could probably manipulate him into getting what I wanted (after all, I am a master at blackmailing), but this time I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to be honest.
In short, I was in uncharted territory. And I was nervous as hell.
I took a breath and looked him in the eyes. “Mr. Allman, my name is Jeph Howard. I am not a business client, but there is something I need to discuss with you.” He didn’t say anything when I paused, and I took this as a sign to continue. “For you see sir, I am in a bit of a dilemma. I am in love with your son Quinn, and his heart is broken because you don’t love him anymore.”
At the mention of his son’s name, Quinn’s dad tensed and glared, spitting out. “I have no son.”
I rolled my eyes at that. “Yes sir, you do. And he is a wonderful person who I would do anything for.”
I could see his fists clenching. “He’s a faggot.”
I could feel my anger rise a little bit with the mention of that word. “No. He’s gay. Technically a fagot is a bundle of sticks. Don’t believe me? Look it up.” I smirked a bit and his glare deepened, but he didn’t say a word. “That message you left on our machine, destroyed a part of him, and maybe that’s what you set out to do. You asked if he had no dignity, and I have to pose the same question unto you. Think about it sir. What kind of father does that make you? Does it make you feel like a bigger person to shoot him down? Do you feel good about yourself? Do you think God will love you more because you turned away your son?”
“I, well-“
I didn’t let him finish what he was going to say, this was my time to talk. “Because he won’t Mr. Allman. Just like God won’t love Quinn any less for being gay. Do you have any idea how hard it is for anyone to realize that they are of a different sexuality? It is the fucking scariest thing anyone can go through. And don’t even think for one second that it’s easy. Quinn had it harder than most, because he had you and God looming over his shoulder while he tried to figure himself out.”
I paused to see if he would say anything again, but he didn’t. He wasn’t even looking at me any more, he was looking at the ground. So I continued after taking a deep breath. “Mr. Allman, I’m not saying that you have to like the fact that Quinn is gay, but you do have to accept it. Because no matter who he fucks, he’s still your son, your flesh and blood. He carries your last name and you helped to create him.” I paused and sighed. “But right now, you also have the power to destroy him.” At this he looked back up at me. “I’m not asking you to come live with us or anything. What I am asking is for you to make peace with him. First though, you need to make peace with yourself.”
I felt like I was about to cry for some reason, and I never get like this. Nevertheless, I continued in my speech. “Sir, I love your son. It’s taken us a long time to get where we are now. And I’m asking you all this not just for his sake, but for mine too. He is in the position right now to where he might go back to the way he was, lying to himself about who he is. I don’t want that to happen. I can’t lose him. I really can’t. Don’t take the best thing that has ever happened to me away.” I breathed in and composed myself for the most part. “It kills me to see him like he is right now. He says he’s okay. But I know he’s hurting. I can see it in his eyes.”
His dad’s glare had softened by this point, and I could tell he had been paying attention to what I said. “You really…love him don’t you?” He asked hesitantly.
I nodded and smiled a bit. “Yeah. I really do.” I looked at him hard, and he could tell I was back to being serious. “So the choice is yours. You can either accept who he is, and try and love him anyway, or continue to kill him slowly with your silence.” I paused for a second. “No matter what though, you will not get rid of me. Even if you keep hurting him, I will stick by his side and pick up the pieces. I’m here to stay. So get used to me. And get used to the fact that we love each other.”
I didn’t wait for him to say anything. I just got up and left the church. He would need time to think over everything I just said. I hoped that I had done the right thing. I really did.
Two days later, Quinn got a phone call from his dad. They talked for 4 hours that day, 2 the next, and 3 the day after that. It’s not to say that his dad suddenly accepted him, it was a slow process. But over time and many long phone conversations, he finally started to get used to the idea. He never did tell Quinn that I met him in the church that day, I asked him not to. We’re all pretty close now, and it’s a nice feeling.
And I know the way I’m telling the story, it seems like Quinn was the only one to have problems, which wasn’t the case at all. Although I hate to admit it, I’ve had my weak points as well.
Because you have to realize this, this major change in myself that you can see, this caring person I have become, this all didn’t happen overnight. It was a long process. At first I tended to be very closed off about everything, I wasn’t used to having a committed relationship. There would be times when I wanted to call the whole thing off, because the intensity of it was too much to handle. We got through those times together though, and came out stronger than ever after them. There were times when I would lock myself in our room for hours on end, and Quinn knew that when I did this I just needed to be alone. He respected that and never asked questions. In reality I would just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the hell I was getting myself into. It was all so new, so scary. But I did know one thing.
It was good.
Of course we had other little pieces of drama come at us as well. But most couples do. It was never enough to break us up. I don’t think we’ve ever gotten to the point that we were that mad at each other.
And I know one thing that is probably on your minds is the sex. And what I say next may surprise you. Hell when I think about it, it surprises me.
We didn’t have sex again until our 1 year anniversary.
Coming from a former sex addict, that’s a big deal. And I can say honestly that I never slept around while I was with Quinn. And I never will. It was weird, not having sex all the time. I guess it was something that I had grown so accustomed to that it just seemed like more of a daily routine that something that actually meant something.
With Quinn though, I wanted it to mean something.
We both decided mutually to wait and have sex. It wasn’t something that we talked about, we just knew it was what the other wanted (by this point in time it was almost like we could read one another’s thoughts). Sure we did other things, things I enjoyed, a lot. But still, we waited before going all the way again.
I don’t think I can stress enough how big of a deal this was for me. I mean, my life used to be based on sex. And to go without it for a year? Let me tell you, it was rough. Hell, girls even started looking more attractive (I would never fuck one. But you get my point).
But when it did happen, it was all worth it.
We had just spent our anniversary at home, snuggled up on the couch, much like we had that first night we got together. The night was made up of small smiles and soft laughter, light kisses and whispered endearments. It was in short, perfect. Sex wasn’t on my mind surprisingly, it hardly ever was anymore for the most part (I mean it was, because gay or not, I am a guy. Guys love sex. That’s how God wanted it to be.)
At one point, Quinn looked up from the tv to me, smiled softly and kissed me. He ran his fingers softly down my cheek and I looked into his eyes. We whispered ‘I love you’ at the same time, and he jinxed me right afterwards (I still owe him a soda). I laughed softly and laced my fingers through his, squeezing his hand a little. He seemed to space out for a minute, and before I could ask him what was on his mind, he kissed me again, harder than before.
I knew what this kiss meant. Don’t ask me how I knew, I just did. Like I mentioned, by now it was as if we could read each other’s thoughts. I knew he was ready to go further, and I realized that I was ready for it too. I smiled softly at him and took his hand, stood up and lead him into the bedroom.
It was almost like we were doing this for the first time. There was a nervousness in the pit of my stomach that I had never felt before. And I liked it. We took it slow, not rushing through anything. We undressed each other slowly, taking in every inch of one another’s bodies. I kissed his collarbone softly as he undid my pants, the last article of clothing between us (I still had a thing about not wearing underwear). After we were both exposed we just sort of looked at each other. It was strange. I was used to the whole, ‘nice shoes let’s fuck in a bathroom stall’ deal. This time though, I actually wanted it to be good for him too. I was putting him before myself.
Never saw that coming did you?
I knew it would still be painful for him. As he laid back on the bed, me positioned between his legs, I was worried about that. He assured me he would be alright though. And it was only then that I coated my fingers in lube (that’s right, not spit), and began to stroke his cock as I slipped my fingers into them. He tensed at first, but relaxed after a minute. Soon he was pushing back against my hand, and I had found his prostate with my fingers. Small moans dropped from his lips and I knew he was ready.
I leaned in and kissed him as I coated my cock, placing a hand on his hip and looking into his eyes as I pressed into him. He took in a sharp breath and I ran my fingers softly over his stomach, stopping half way in to let him adjust. He was so tight, and it was hard for me not to just pound into him. I started moving forward again, and once I got all the way in I stopped again and leaned down and kissed him. Our tongues massaged against each other and he bit my bottom lip softly, letting me know I could move.
I thrust in and out of him slowly, deeply. I was taking my time, enjoying every second, and every feeling of the whole experience. This would be something to remember. Our breathing echoed back at each other, Quinn’s hands gripping my upper arms, my hands on his hips. His fingers dug into my skin as I hit his prostate, a moan of my name falling from him. I kissed along his neck as one of my hands reached down to his cock, stroking him in time with my thrusts, knowing we were both close.
I could feel it. That warm feeling that starts on the back of your legs and curls up into the small of your back, spreading around to your stomach. My vision was getting hazy and I was almost panting. I was completely lost in the feeling, lost in him, and nothing else mattered. We came at almost the same time, screaming each other’s names.
I pulled out of him and laid down, Quinn almost immediately curling up on my chest. I pulled the blanket up over us and whispered that I loved him. He returned it, and with a smile on my face, I fell asleep.
That right there, is one of the single best moments of my life. Not so much the sex part (though that in it’s own right, deserves a fucking medal), but in the after affects of it, that closeness you feel.
Every other sexual experience I have ever had has meant nothing. It never did. That was just fucking. It was a way to get off, a way to pass the time, meaningless and unfulfilling in the long run.
As much as I hate the words, because they make me feel like some sap, what Quinn and I did, was far from that. We didn’t fuck, we made love.
And it was beautiful. And good.
Trust me, I don’t use words like that lightly.
I don’t think up until this point, I had mentioned how long Quinn and I have actually been together. I got so caught up in telling the stories of how we got here that I forgot to mention where we are now.
You’re going to be surprised. I’m just warning you now.
Tomorrow, will be our 7th year anniversary.
That’s right. It was 7 years ago tomorrow that I approached Quinn in that church, scared shitless that my feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.
It’s been a great 7 years.
I could probably write a novel on everything that’s happened. Although I think people will get bored of the ramblings of a lovesick fool.
I also forgot that there were other people in my life that I haven’t mentioned yet either (surprisingly the world doesn’t revolve around him and I).
Remember Josh Keening and Adam Lazzara? My sex addict friend and his boyfriend?
They just had their 7th anniversary a couple weeks ago. Yes, they’re still together, and growing strong. Adam and Josh have stood by Quinn and I through every hardship that we’ve had. And we’ve stood by Josh and Adam through theirs. Because not all relationships are perfect, and sometimes you just need a shoulder to cry on.
Three years ago, Adam was diagnosed with HIV. I got a phone call from Josh late one night. He was sobbing and needless to say, I rushed over to his apartment and comforted the both of them. We were scared that Josh would have it too, luckily he hadn’t. Even through this, Josh and Adam have stayed together, and are strong now as ever. They are the best friends I will ever have, and when I think of how we all met it makes me laugh about how crazy life really is.
And I haven’t forgotten, that it was Josh and Adam that pushed me forward that day to go talk to Quinn. Without them, I don’t know if I would have everything I am so thankful for now. The four of us are like a big family, and there’s nothing that beats that feeling.
This brings me to another person who has made a big impact on my life.
His name is Austin, and he is four years old. Two years ago, Quinn and I adopted him, and my life has been changed forever since then. He is a beautiful child, black hair and grey eyes, and a smile that could make anyone weak in the knees. My little guy’s going to be a heartbreaker, I can just tell. His mother was a drug addict, and his father died before he was born. When we went to the adoption agency and saw that two year old boy, who didn’t look like anyone wanted to give him a chance, we were in love. We knew he was our son.
Nothing beats waking up in the morning to a little boy curled up in spider-man pajamas on your side. And when his eyes open and he calls you Daddy, you wonder how you ever got along without him in the first place. He brightens up my life, and I thank God every day for putting him there.
Now, I don’t want you to think that Quinn and I decided to adopt a kid just out of nowhere. We talked a lot about it. And I realized something very important.
Quinn is the only one I am ever going to want.
He is the only one I will ever need.
He is my soul mate.
I would live for him. I would kill for him.
I would die for him.
I want to spend the rest of my life with him.
He gave my life meaning. And he gave me strength when I needed it most. He helped me overcome my ego and brought me back down to Earth. He turned me from a selfish, arrogant, asshole, to a loving, caring father. I owe him my life. I owe him my heart. This man holds my very soul in the palm of his hand, and I know he’ll do nothing but take care of it. I trust him. I need him.
I love him. In every sense of the word.
Quinn and Austin complete my world, without them I would be nothing. It’s like I look back on that person I was 7 years ago, and I don’t even understand how I could be that way. I’m so different now. Being in love has changed me in the best way possible. And I wouldn’t change a thing about it now. I’m secure with him, with them, with my family. I’m happy. I’m complete.
Quinn asked me all those years ago, if I could give my old life up for him, and I told him back then that it was worth it. It was worth giving up the freedom of anonymous sex. It was worth giving up my life without inhibition. It was worth admitting to myself that I was in love.
And guess what?
It still is.
THE END
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Wow. I never expected to write this. I really don’t do sequels. I spent a week on this, usually it takes me about an hour to write a chapter or something, but with this I wanted to do a good job. I wanted to do the last story justice.
I’m seriously thinking about writing a sequel chapter fic. We’ll see what happens. I’m too in love with these characters to let them go.
Tell me what you think.
Love always,
Chelsea