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*** JAN 2020 ***
Somehow, even though he ironed his shirt yesterday, there were somehow wrinkles and creases that formed on it, but of course, that would happen. It was no surprise that things weren’t going as planned today, because Quinn was never the luckiest person in the world.
If he was lucky, he wouldn’t hit a red light almost every time he was at a stoplight. If he was lucky, he would’ve remembered to turn his car lights off that one night last month so his car battery wasn’t completely drained. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t still have a scar on his arm from when he drunkenly cut his tattoo with a plastic hanger.
And, if he was lucky, he wouldn’t be getting ready for a meeting with his former bandmates and a mediator to finally settle the lawsuit he filed.
But, as mentioned previously – Quinn wasn’t lucky. So, he slipped the slightly creased dress shirt on and buttoned it up. He decided to not wear his tie, there was a difference in looking nice and trying too hard, and the last thing he wanted was to look like he was trying too hard. Quinn was going for professional, something he knew his old bandmates could never relate to.
“Meg, do you know where my keys are?” Quinn shouted from his room, hoping his voice would reach downstairs where his wife was.
“On the counter in the kitchen!” She replied, her voice quieter through the closed door. Quinn knew Megan was about to leave to go spend some time with her mom in a few minutes, so he hurried, throwing his shoes on and securing his belt around his waist.
Shortly after, Quinn made his way down the stairs, finding his wife standing in the kitchen, his keys in one hand and a coffee in the other.
“You’re a lifesaver,” He smiled, taking the items from her hands and planting a kiss on her cheek. Megan smiled and put a hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly.
“Stop being so nervous. It’s gonna be fine, Quinn. You’re smarter than them, you’re gonna win this no problem,” She assured him. Quinn forced a smile and nodded, however, her words didn’t make him feel any better. He wasn’t nervous about winning or losing the lawsuit, he was nervous about facing his old best friends again for the first time since he took his hiatus that turned out to not be a hiatus – but rather the end of his time in the band he helped form.
“Thanks, babe. Tell Jill I say hi.” Quinn decided to leave before her mom came over, he wanted to avoid any chance of having to explain what he was doing. It was bad enough to admit that he was seeing the same people who fired him, let alone the fact that he was seeing them because he sued them since they refused to send his royalty checks over.
Once Quinn got into his car, he immediately wished that this meeting was happening later in the day. Late morning was not ideal – he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to speak to the guys without a drink or two in him.
Quinn almost laughed to himself at his own thoughts just then. Who was he kidding? The whole band wasn’t the issue. Quinn wasn’t sure how he was supposed to speak to Bert without a drink or two in him.
It wasn’t like Quinn wasn’t nervous to see Jepha or Dan, he most definitely was. The anger and resentment he held towards them was still there, and he knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon. He and Dan used to always be so close, especially since Quinn was the one who found him when they needed a replacement for Branden. So, when he was kicked out, he assumed Dan would’ve reached out. That he would’ve said something. But, he didn’t.
As for Jepha, Quinn still couldn’t figure it out. Jepha met Quinn way back when Quinn was only fifteen, Jepha being eighteen. Quinn remembered how cool Jepha seemed, his hippie alternative style, the fact he just wore whatever he wanted (dresses and makeup included) and didn’t care what anyone thought of him, and how Jepha was able to scream. He was like a big brother to Quinn when they first became friends, and soon that evolved into a mutual understanding and respect between the two. Jepha and he did so much together, like all the Q&A videos for the band and promos for shows. And, he was always in the mood to film skits with Quinn whenever he asked. Quinn never would’ve thought in a million years that Jepha Howard, his longest best friend, would do what he did to him.
However, none of that compared to the emotions he held towards Bert.
Quinn’s connection with Bert went further than what he had with Dan or Jepha. Quinn never walked around town past midnight getting quarter sodas with Jepha. Dan never read poems to Quinn in the dark corner of an abandoned factory they found together. They never wrote and dedicated songs to Quinn.
That was between him and Bert.
*** JAN 2001 ***
“You’ve never smoked a cigarette?” Bert smirked as he pulled out his lighter. Quinn watched as Bert’s shoes scraped the ground as they sat on the swings at the park by his house. He took a sip of his soda before setting it back on the ground. The stars were out and Bert’s eyes looked brighter than usual.
“No,” He replied, as if it was obvious. “Never saw the appeal.”
Bert laughed as he placed a cigarette into his mouth, bringing the flame up to his mouth and inhaling. Quinn watched as the smoke left his mouth, the cloud mixing with Bert’s visible breath from the cold air.
“What the hell do you guys even do for fun?” Bert asked in between inhales. He smoked so quickly. Why did he smoke so quickly?
“Go to parks. Play music. I don’t know… Would you consider smoking cigarettes to be more fun than this?” Quinn asked, a smile forming on his face while his eyes fixated on Bert’s lips wrapped around the white cylinder.
“It definitely adds to the experience,” Bert winked, and Quinn felt his breathing get stuck in his chest for just a moment. “You wanna try it?”
Quinn hesitated for a brief moment, but he nodded and held his hand out, expecting Bert to hand him a cigarette of his own. He didn’t though, he just took the one out of his mouth and passed it close to Quinn’s face. He realized right then and there that he was expected to part his lips and allow Bert to place it between his teeth, and holy fuck, Bert’s fingers were touching his lips and something that had been in Bert’s mouth was now in his.
It didn’t take long for him to cough, his lungs hot and hurting but the way Bert was smiling at him made any feeling of discomfort worth it.
“The first few hits are kinda rough, but then you get addicted,” Bert said over the sounds of Quinn trying to clear the smoke from his chest.
*** APRIL 2001 ***
Bert wouldn’t stop chewing on his pen, and it was kinda gross but at the same time, Quinn couldn’t deny that he liked the way Bert looked. He was all scrunched up on the bed, back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest. His brows were furrowed together, a composition notebook resting on his thighs, his eyes fixated on the page. And, of course, a pen in his mouth.
“Careful, you’re gonna end up getting ink in your mouth at some point if you keep that up,” Quinn smirked as he picked up some t-shirts off the ground and threw them into his hamper. He wasn’t sure which shirts were his and which shirts were Bert’s at this point, but it didn’t really matter. Sharing clothes with each other was almost as natural as breathing for them.
Bert looked up, his jaw movements slowing until he pulled the pen away and stuck his tongue out at Quinn. “Well, what if I like the taste of ink, huh?”
Quinn shook his head as he laughed, collapsing onto the bed alongside the other boy. His face landed near Bert’s hip, and he felt fingers that were smaller than his land in his hair, softly stroking the blonde strands. The two were silent for a few minutes as Bert continued to stare at the papers in front of him, occasionally scribbling something down onto the page, all while his other hand remained tangled up in a mess of blonde.
“Wanna do something before the concert tonight?” Bert asked suddenly, and Quinn lifted his head to look at Bert. The hand in his hair disappeared, and it took everything in him to not chase after the feeling.
“Like what?”
Bert shrugged. “I don’t know. Explore some place. Like that shithole broken-down building we saw the other day on our way to Jeph and Branden’s.”
Quinn took a breath and chewed on his lip. “Do you think we’ll have time? I really don’t wanna miss Small Brown Bike’s set, they’re opening so they’ll be playing pretty early.”
“Yeah, we’ll definitely have time. I don’t wanna miss them either. I just think it’ll be fun to check out that place, I think it used to be a factory. Come on,” Bert urged, grabbing Quinn’s hand and pulling him to his feet. Bert’s hands were small and cold and a bit sweaty and Quinn always felt like he wasn’t breathing normally whenever they held hands.
Bert was right, and Quinn couldn’t help but admit that the place was really cool. It was some old, abandoned factory for some type of construction shit, but Quinn couldn’t tell, nor did he really care. What he cared about was how bright Bert’s eyes were as they explored the place. He kept pointing out the way the wall was crumbling, or how cool the leftover machinery was, or how the broken glass that remained in the window frames made the shadows all wonky and misshapen. Quinn listened to every observation so intently because he really liked it when Bert was excited, especially over the mundane things in life, like that time when Quinn gave him a new notebook, or the time when Bert couldn’t stop smiling when Quinn took him for a ride on his mom’s tractor. He couldn’t explain why Bert’s enthusiasm towards the simple things made him feel so warm inside.
Who was Quinn kidding – he knew exactly why he liked that so much. Quinn cycled through the same three t-shirts and two flannels for his outfits. He barely drank or smoked before he met Bert, and still, he wasn’t ever too belligerent. He had blonde hair and brown eyes and he worked on a golf course. He didn’t have any desire to live a rockstar life, he just wanted to make music with people he cared about.
Quinn Allman was the definition of simple.
He was broken out of his thoughts when Bert got him to sit down on a ledge of some sort, and Bert took a seat beside him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, passing it to Quinn.
“What’s this?” Quinn asked, slowly and carefully unfolding the paper.
“A poem. I wrote it for you,” Bert smiled. There it was again – that sparkle in Bert’s eyes paired with his toothy smile. Quinn felt his throat tighten in the best way possible as he began to read the words that Bert wrote for him.
*** DEC 2011 ***
“Bert, I… I don’t know what to say,” Quinn managed to say, his voice cracking as he said the other man’s name. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the paper in front of him, and he knew he’d have to give it back at some point, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to keep it forever and read over the words whenever he got the chance.
“Do you like them? If it’s too much, I can change them,” Bert shifted from one foot to the other, his hands in his pockets. Quinn shook his head and used one hand to cup Bert’s jaw before he pulled him into a deep kiss. Bert tasted like cigarettes and mint gum, but no alcohol. Quinn was used to tasting whiskey on Bert’s lips and tongue, but ever since Bert started sobering up, that taste lessened by the day. Quinn liked it – the no alcohol. He also liked knowing Bert would remember each and every kiss they shared and would continue to share in the future.
He finally pulled away, and Bert couldn’t help but chase his lips for a split second before he opened his eyes.
“I love them, Bert. I didn’t realize you still, um, felt this way. About me,” Quinn finally replied to Bert. The other man raised an eyebrow at him, and Quinn knew what that look meant.
It meant that Quinn was wrong in every way, and that Bert still felt that way and would feel that way forever. It was a look given to Quinn pretty often – he never felt secure in the spot he had in Bert’s life, regardless of Bert’s reassurance.
“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?” Bert chuckled as he shook his head. Quinn narrowed his eyes as he bit back a smile.
“I might be an idiot, but I’m also…” Quinn looked down at the lyrics again. “Your angel, your shoulder to lean on, should I continue?”
Bert huffed, reaching his hand out to grab the paper from Quinn, but he held it out of his reach. Quinn smirked as Bert tried to tackle Quinn in order to get the lyrics from him, Bert’s body warm and soft against his own.
Bert managed to finally get his paper back from Quinn, laughing and breathing heavily as he stabled himself again, shaking the paper triumphantly. “I’m gonna change the lyrics now. ‘Angel’ is now gonna be ‘asshole’, so I hope you’re proud of yourself, you dick.”
Quinn laughed as he threw his arm around Bert and planted a gentle kiss on the side of his head. He knew Bert was joking and he was still feeling high off the words Bert wrote about him, so there were no doubts. No insecurities. No need for any more validation.
Bert’s hair was soft against Quinn’s arm. The feeling reminded him of when they were younger, when he and Bert shared a bed. Quinn always put one arm under Bert’s head and Bert moved in close to him as he held onto him tightly. Bert’s hair always touched Quinn’s bicep and at first, it was a little uncomfortable.
But after all those years, it was now one of the most comforting feelings ever. He felt Bert lean into him as they took a seat on Quinn’s couch, and he held onto him a little tighter.
*** JAN 2020 ***
It was always Bert.
Sure, Jepha and Dan didn’t say anything and were complicit, but they didn’t do the things, say the things Bert did. Bert was the one who kicked him out. Bert was the one who cut Quinn off. Bert was the one who took Quinn’s ideas and spun them into something he could say he made himself. Bert was the one who knew everything that Quinn was going through and still chose to abandon him.
It didn’t matter that Bert always wrote poems for him, or the way Bert always got a little jealous when Quinn showed anyone else an ounce of his attention, or even the fact that he still could feel the heat against his leg from when Bert leaned on his leg and rested his head on Quinn’s thigh when they performed On My Own six years ago. As good as those moments were, they served no purpose now, not after what Bert put him through. Besides, all of that, all of those memories, they were forms of phantom pain.
Even though Bert and his dynamic was long gone, he would always be able to feel and remember what they once were to each other. And even if it has been a while since they cut ties, it didn’t make it hurt any less.
Quinn almost laughed to himself at his thoughts, as if the situation he was in was suddenly shocking. As if they weren’t bound to finally exhaust each other to a point where they had to simply let go.
By the time he pulled into the parking spot, his nerves were at full force. Quinn had no idea what to expect – did they hire a better lawyer for this? Were they nervous as well about seeing him? Was Bert even going to talk to him?
The endless questions continued to race through his mind as he walked toward the building dedicated to solving people’s interpersonal problems. Quinn reached his hand out and opened the door, letting out a breath as he was met with a gust of warmth due to the heater inside. He stepped in, letting the door close behind him as he walked up to the front desk.
“Hi, I’m Quinn Allman. I have a settlement up for mediation against the company ‘The Used’. But, um, the names of the people in that company are Daniel Whitesides, Jepha Howard, and Robert McCracken,” He said to the receptionist, who smiled at him as she filed through documents. She kindly asked him to take a seat, and that the mediation would commence as soon as the other party showed up, because both lawyers and mediator were currently going over details in one of the conference rooms.
How fucking lovely . Of course, he should’ve known they’d all be late – it only made sense considering Quinn was the only one who was on top of them following a schedule, with Dan helping every now and then. He couldn’t even imagine the disorganization the band was probably facing without him – but, he shouldn’t worry anymore. That was no longer his problem, all thanks to Bert. Quinn smirked to himself as he thought about possibly thanking Bert in a sarcastic tone, but there was no use in picturing little arguments in his head.
Suddenly, the doors swung open, followed by a laugh, and Quinn felt his muscles go tense.
Quinn was no stranger to that sound – he could recognize that laugh anywhere. Quinn’s gaze shifted over toward the noise coming from the entry. He immediately wished he hadn’t looked, because fuck , now shit was actually real.
“I’m just saying that maybe we cut that from the set tonight, Bert. Might not be the best idea,” Jepha said in a calm tone. Quinn wondered what they were talking about, what song Jepha wanted Bert to cut from the set. Bert rolled his eyes and let out a laugh, and his smile was clearly forced, and Quinn hated how it looked. The three hadn’t noticed him yet, surprisingly, so he sat there, pretending like he couldn’t hear any of their words.
“Fuck that, I wanna keep it. I’m fucking sick and tired of accommodating what I want to do, alright? He isn’t here anymore, I get that. I’m still allowed to play the fucking song,” Bert snapped, his words sharp and venomous. Jepha sighed and pushed his hair away from his eyes. Dan seemed to ignore them both, introducing himself to the secretary before checking in.
Somehow, Quinn was still shocked at what Bert chose to wear, even though deep down he didn’t have any other expectations. He kind of just hoped Bert would have deemed this as important enough to choose pants and a nice shirt rather than his sweats and a bro tank. Besides his outfit, it was interesting to see what everyone looked up up close. Quinn knew what they all looked like, of course he did. He constantly was bombarded with pictures of them now, from all those accounts on Instagram, to the interviews people would send him, to his own curiosity getting the best of him. Yeah, Quinn admitted it – he watched the music videos that came out after his termination. It was sort of pathetic on his end, but at least he wasn’t the one who wrote Paradise Lost. The reference to Blue and Yellow was so straightforward that it almost seemed unreal when he heard those words while watching the cheesy music video.
Once the initial shock over the lyrics dissipated, Quinn couldn’t help but feel amused. It was funny how he was clearly still taking up space in Bert’s brain even though he was the one that got kicked out. And, based on the lyrics, he wasn’t just taking up space – he was still inflicting pain. Cutting open old scars. His existence was the reason Bert couldn’t heal and move on, and maybe it made Quinn a sadist, but he relished in the idea that Bert was hurting just as much as he was.
When the receptionist gestured for the three men to take a seat while they waited for their lawyers and the mediator to get them, it was clear that they officially spotted Quinn. Luckily, Quinn had let himself seem as though he hadn’t noticed them at all – keeping his eyes glued to his phone. He didn’t know or care what he was looking at, probably some dumb Instagram video, it didn’t matter. He just didn’t want to appear as if he cared enough about them to give the men who screwed him over any attention.
Before they could say anything to him, both of their lawyers and the mediator walked out into the main room, and Quinn took a deep breath. He saw Bert’s eyes flicker over to him at the action, and something about that made his skin feel weird. They were one of the only things on Bert’s body that remained the same – round, sweet, blue. Always big even if he was squinting. Somehow shiny even after what life put him through. And they always looked at Quinn with either love or hate or both.
Things passed in a blur and before Quinn knew it, he was sitting on one side of a table next to his lawyer, with his three old best friends on the other side, accompanied by their lawyer. The mediator sat at the head of the table, closer to Quinn’s lawyer and Dan.
Quinn was sitting directly across from Bert.
He didn’t choose for that to happen, he just chose a chair and sat down. Bert was the one who kept glancing at Quinn as he made his way around the table before plopping down in the chair that faced Quinn.
The mediator finally began the meeting, and Quinn really tried to listen to what his lawyer was saying, but that was proven difficult when he and Bert kept looking at each other in silence.
His hair was still short and blonde, but not as shaven on the sides like they were in 2014. He looked different up close than how he did in the music videos or photos – he was tanner than Quinn remembered, and he was fit and toned. He had clearly been working out, Bert was never the guy with the muscles or anything of the sort. He looked good, healthy. He was definitely still sober, it was obvious. Quinn couldn’t explain why it appeared as obvious, he just could tell.
Good for him. He hated Bert, but he was proud of him. Quinn hated that he was proud of him.
Once Quinn’s lawyer was done speaking, he passed the reigns over, giving Quinn the floor. Quinn felt his hands shake slightly, and he put them under the table, because he didn’t want – no, he wouldn’t let Bert witness any signs of weakness. He chose to show vulnerability in 2014, taking a hiatus in order to take care of himself. He told Bert everything going on, he let Bert in, and he was abandoned in return. This time, Quinn wasn’t going to make the same mistake, he knew exactly who Bert truly was now. He was never going to let his feeling get weaponized against him ever again.
“Well, to start things off, I still believe I am owed proper compensation. I was terminated in an unfair and unprofessional manner by The Used, which is its own issue, let alone the fact that I still am not receiving my royalty checks on a consistent basis. Also, the royalty checks that I have received don’t make sense financially based on the work I’ve put into this band. That is why I filed this lawsuit in the first place, and it still doesn’t make sense to me as to why it’s gone on for so long–” Quinn explained before Bert cut him off with a scoff.
“This is bullshit,” Bert whispered to Jepha, who sighed quietly, almost looking embarrassed by Bert. Quinn clenched his jaw to prevent a smile from appearing on his face – he predicted that Bert was going to be unprofessional, but the fact he was already acting like that was a bonus. All he was doing was helping Quinn’s case – and it was clear that Dan and Jepha were doing nothing to stop him.
“Mr. McCracken, it is Mr. Allman’s time to speak currently,” The mediator stated, and Bert had that same forced-looking smile on his face. It was a smile that seemed to mask what he was actually feeling – anger, nervousness, whatever. Quinn sent the mediator a smile before clearing his throat, and this time he turned to face forward, letting his eyes fall directly on Bert’s.
Bert stared right back, but of course, Quinn knew he would. Bert was a natural at putting up a good fight, that stubborn son of a bitch.
“As I was saying,” Quinn let his eyebrows raise slightly at Bert, a hint of condescension in the action. Bert’s jaw clenched, and Quinn let himself continue once he got that reaction. “It feels unreasonable for this settlement to be ongoing. I deserved to be let go properly, and I deserve a fair share of compensation for the excessive amount of work I’ve put into this band. If it wasn’t for me, this band would be six feet underground .”
Quinn was deliberate with those words – Bert used to say that on stage back in the day. Quinn never knew what to say or do whenever Bert did those types of things, the stage-affection. All he knew was that he never could hide his smile whenever Bert looked at him with those big eyes and thanked him for saving his life.
“Objection!” Bert yelled, raising a hand in the air, but their lawyer shot him a glare.
“I’m sorry, Mr. McCracken. This is not a court, we don’t do that during mediation…” The mediator explained, but it was clear Bert wasn’t listening. He was just staring right at Quinn, his face slightly red and the vein in his forehead more visible than before.
“I don’t care, because that whole thing is bullshit . Quinn acts like he was the only person to keep us afloat, but that’s not true,” Bert explained through gritted teeth, and it was clear he was already trying to keep his composure. This was a tad surprising in all honesty – Bert always had a bit of a temper, but it was never this bad. Though, Quinn did see Bert talking about new medication in an interview, so, there were probably reasons to explain his behavior. That, and also the fact that he was against Quinn currently probably didn’t help.
The mediator opened his mouth to speak, but Quinn let himself continue, ignoring everything Bert said. “I was the one who handled the finances, the one who communicated with our booking agent, the one who figured out who was going to open for us. Not to mention, I had a heavy hand in the production of every single album released from 2002 to 2014.”
Quinn knew it would soon be Bert’s turn to speak, so he took a breath and decided to just go for it . “Also, I can assure everyone here that if it wasn’t for me, The Used wouldn’t exist. I was the one who found our lead singer, housed him, and kept him going the entire time I was in The Used. Things might be okay for this band now, but I was the one to keep this band, and a specific member, alive.”
Quinn and Bert used to fight a lot , throwing punches, shoving each other, showing no mercy – and a lot of those fights resulted in the both of them dealing with pain for days, even weeks after. Quinn knew what Bert looked like when he was ready to hit him, and he knew what Bert looked like after getting punched.
But, Quinn hadn’t seen those moments combined before, not until now. It was as though Quinn threw the hardest punch he could at Bert’s cheek right as Bert was ready to hit him, catching him off guard.
He looked betrayed.
Quinn suddenly hated everything he just said, all because of Bert’s eyes and the way his mouth was seated in a straight line. Quinn could tell Bert had the tip of his bottom lip between his teeth. It was what Bert did to make sure no one could tell that his lip was quivering, but Quinn could tell. He always seemed to know what was going on with Bert, whether he liked it or not.
“Fuck you, Quinn.”
Bert’s words were slow, deliberate, violent. He knew what he was saying, he knew how that would affect the settlement, and he still chose to let those words out. Something about that made it clearer that this – he and Bert – was real. There was hatred, there was anger, and there were boundaries that Quinn crossed.
To be fair, Bert was the first to cross the boundaries when he kicked Quinn out of the band with no second thought. Quinn took a breath as he reminded himself that Bert didn’t deserve mercy. He chose to do what he did to Quinn, so he should be ready to deal with the consequences.
It was clear that the mediator was uncomfortable and unsure of what to do because, after a few seconds, he called for a brief recess. Quinn watched as Bert was the first to stand up, not wasting a second of time before he left the room. Dan and Jepha got up at the same time as Quinn, and there was a tension that hung between the three of them.
The two men who stood in front of him were once his best friends, two people he once would die for, yet now they won’t even say a single word to him. The feeling that floated in the air wasn’t the same as it was when Bert was present. There didn’t seem to be anger between any of them, just a heavy sadness fueled by disappointment and miscommunication.
“Excuse me,” Quinn mumbled as he walked in front of Dan, not wanting to be the last to leave the room aside from the lawyers and mediator. As he turned the corner to head back toward the main entrance, he stopped in his tracks at a voice.
“Quinn, wait.” He turned around, seeing Jepha approach him. He considered walking away, leaving Jepha with no explanation – give him a taste of his own medicine for once. He didn’t though. He stood there and allowed Jepha to catch up to him, feeling tense as to what he could possibly try to talk to Quinn about.
“What’s up?” Quinn asked casually, though he knew his voice came off in a sour tone. He couldn’t help it — this was probably the first time Jepha had tried to speak to him since he got kicked out, he had every right to be mad.
Jepha put his hands in his pockets, shifting on his feet, and oh, of course, Jepha wore sandals to a goddamn lawsuit settlement. The combination of Jepha in sandals and Bert in a bro tank would’ve made Quinn laugh if he wasn’t so pissed at everyone.
“I just wanted to, ya know, say hi. I hope you’re doing well.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow at him.
Yeah, he’s doing great. He got fired, abandoned by his friends, and now he’s currently in mediation for a lawsuit he filed against his ex-band.
“Thanks, you too,” Quinn chose to be cordial rather than petty, considering he actually cared about professionalism.
He watched as Jepha avoided eye contact, and he could physically feel the tenseness. He was about to just turn away and leave, but Jepha finally spoke up, breaking the silence.
“Hey man, I know shit is hard, but take it easy on Bert. Please.”
Quinn’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a shocked scoff.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, right? Jepha, come on. You can't be serious right now,” He laughed in frustration, and he knew his face looked like that angry forced smile that Bert had on earlier. Jepha sighed and shook his head.
“This is hard on him too, Quinn. A lot of shit has been going on lately—“
Quinn felt like he was in another world hearing this, there was no way that he was being told to show Bert mercy after Bert kicked him out of the band and refused to pay him.
“Jepha, I get that you’re trying to be a good friend. I kinda wished you showed me the same grace back in 2015, you know?” Quinn watched as Jepha’s face fell, eyes moving toward the floor. Quinn realized Jepha wasn’t about to reply, so he continued. “Also, a lot of shit was happening to me, Jepha. You knew that. Dan knew that. And Bert knew that, God, he knew everything.”
Quinn trailed off, trying to find his words after getting distracted as he thought about what his situation was. All the shit with his mom and his mom’s boyfriend, his neighbor, his mental health — and the one time he chose himself over the band, they turned on him. Bert turned on him.
“I’m sorry if this is hard or weird for you guys, Jepha. Maybe you should’ve thought about that before kicking me out and not paying me properly.”
He didn’t wait to hear Jepha’s answer, turning and leaving towards the main entrance. There were probably about five more minutes before they had to regather in the meeting room, but he needed fresh air, especially after that conversation with Jepha.
Quinn continued to replay those words over and over in his head. How things were hard for Bert, and that he should take it easy on him.
If Quinn felt any remorse towards what he said about Bert in the meeting room, all of that was gone now. There was no way he would allow himself to be guilt-tripped out of this, to be guilt-tripped out of finally getting what he deserves.
––––
The meeting started back up, and luckily, Quinn felt calm enough by that point to rejoin the guys without blowing up at them. The Used’s lawyer was now talking, and frankly, Quinn couldn’t be bothered to even listen. It was a new guy, which made sense considering their old lawyer didn’t even know how to spell Quinn’s last name, let alone win a case against him.
So, instead of listening, Quinn kept looking up at Bert. And, Bert appeared to be doing the exact same thing. There was this unspoken shyness that Bert exuded in the midst of his obnoxiousness, and it was hauntingly familiar.
It had to do with his eyes, mainly. Bert had these long lashes, blonde at the tips. When he used to wear mascara for photoshoots or music videos, they always looked even longer. He often would look at Quinn through them, and it always made Bert appear so feminine, so delicate. It didn’t matter if he was nineteen with long, black hair, or almost fourty with short blonde hair; he still maintained that girlish look of innocence that Quinn grew so fond of.
Along with his eyes, Bert’s body language seemed to have changed after the recess. He no longer appeared cocky or above-it-all. He sat neatly in his chair, one leg overtop the other, and Quinn could see that his knee was bobbing slightly. Bert’s hands were clasped together on the table, and he was discreetly picking at the skin along his nails. He wasn’t leaning back, his shoulders were hunched a bit forward, making him appear much smaller and softer despite his toned-up gym body.
“Alright, Robert, would you like to have a word?” The mediator spoke, breaking Quinn out of his thoughts. Bert blinked a few times too, and Quinn wished that he could know what Bert was so lost in thought about. He wondered if Bert was analyzing Quinn in the same way, picking and prodding at any differences from the last time that they saw each other, admiring the features that remained the same.
“Um, yeah,” He replied, clearing his throat as he looked at Jepha for a moment. He turned back to Quinn and the two locked eyes. Quinn watched Bert’s face soften for a moment, before he opened his mouth to speak.
“Quinn did a lot for the band, sure, whatever. But, he wasn’t alone in his actions, we all gave this band our everything. In like, 2008, I chose to live in LA with them to record, even though I just got married to my wife who lives in Australia. Our producer had me do drugs when recording to get the specific sound he wanted, despite my issues as an addict. We all made sacrifices for The Used, it wasn’t just Quinn. He didn’t save The Used, and he didn’t save any specific members,” Bert spoke slowly as he maintained eye contact. Quinn felt his jaw involuntarily clench at those final words.
“Both parties have mentioned things about a member of The Used being particularly close with Quinn, and whether that was true or not – can we be more specific as to who we are referring to?” The mediator asked, and Quinn watched as Bert visibly winced at the question.
“It’s Bert,” Quinn said plainly. “Bert and I were extremely close, and when we were eighteen, he had a rocky relationship with his parents. So I took him in, and he lived with me and my family. During that time, I helped him get off hard drugs while the band was starting to take off.”
Before the mediator could respond, Bert chimed in. “It wasn’t just you , Quinn. Jepha, Branden, John, everyone helped. It was a group effort, alright?”
“Really? Who would steal their dad’s truck so he could drive to NA meetings? Did Jepha do that?” Quinn snapped back. It wasn’t like he was trying to take credit for Bert’s recovery, but everyone in that room who was there knew that Bert was lying.
“That wasn’t all, either. He was still an alcoholic, was one for a long time. I was there for him during the worst parts of it, I was always there. The only thing that was ever consistent for him was me .” Quinn could feel the words leave his mouth quickly – he was a snake, Bert was his prey, and the words were his venom. And, by the looks of Bert, he was badly struck by Quinn’s fangs.
“Stop acting like you saved me, Quinn,” Bert’s voice was much smaller now.
Quinn narrowed his eyes. “If I didn’t save you, why did you spend fifteen years telling me that I did?”
The room fell silent. The meeting was nowhere near finished, but Quinn could tell Bert wanted nothing more than for this whole thing to be over.
––––
They were given an hour off for lunch, which Quinn was more than grateful for.
After the back-and-forth argument between him and Bert, the mediator gave the speaking floor to the lawyers for about twenty minutes. He realized that was probably the best-case scenario, he really didn’t want to have some full-blown argument with Bert in front of everyone, and by how the conversation was going, he was pretty certain that would’ve happened if they continued.
So, now he was in his car, drinking his once-hot coffee as he scrolled through his phone, eager to take his mind off everything , even if it was just for a short moment of time. Unfortunately, that didn’t go so well, as his attention shifted from his phone to the passenger window when he heard someone knock against it.
It was Bert.
Why the fuck was Bert knocking on his car window?
Quinn unlocked the door, and Bert pulled it open, not even looking at Quinn as he sat down in the seat. Quinn stared at Bert in confusion, and he silently cursed himself for remembering all the times Bert sat in that seat while Quinn drove, and it didn’t matter where they were going or how long it took to get somewhere, because the way Bert sang loudly to the songs on the radio made it all worth it.
“Um, what ?” Quinn finally broke the silence. Bert’s hands were slightly shaking as he turned and met Quinn’s gaze.
“I feel like it would be best if we talked, ya know. Without all the lawyer shit,” Bert replied. Quinn let out a huff, causing Bert’s eyes to shift toward him.
“That’s funny, considering one of the last things that you ever said to me was that I’m not allowed to contact you unless it’s through a lawyer.”
Bert chewed on his lip as he brought his stare to the roof of the car. “Can we not be so hostile right now? God, it’s like you always have to fight me. I wasn’t even trying to fight about this, Quinn. I just wanted to talk.”
Quinn’s chest felt a bit heavy at that comment. Bert’s voice sounded tired and confused. Quinn didn’t want to fight either, but how could he not have his defenses up?”
“Okay. Let’s talk then.”
He gave Bert the floor, the first word. The ball was in Bert’s court, and all he had to do now was sit and wait for Bert to play.
“Shit, okay…” Bert took a deep breath as he brought his gaze back over to meet Quinn’s. “I’ll be honest, I don’t get why your main argument as to why you should win this lawsuit revolves around me. Around us .”
The air was still for a few moments as Quinn conjured up his response.
“What do you mean by us , Bert?”
Quinn knew he didn’t have to ask that question, they both knew exactly what Bert was referring to. He just wanted to hear it come out of Bert’s mouth, he wanted to see Bert’s face as he acknowledged what the word ‘us’ meant in reference to their dynamic.
“God dammit, Quinn. You know what I’m talking about!” Bert’s face was red, and it was clear that he was growing frustrated. “Just, I don’t get it! Why are you using what we have as a prop so you can win some fucking money?”
Oh. Oh.
Quinn’s mouth parted slightly.
“ What we have ”. His focus stayed stagnant on the present tense Bert used.
Quinn never once viewed that to be the case – that he was throwing around the sacredness of them as some sort of tool for him to come out victorious. But, it made sense now – why Bert kept shrinking in on himself. Why he was so against talking about it all. Why he kept looking at Quinn like a wounded animal pleading for a chance at life.
“That’s not, that isn’t what I was trying to do, fuck ,” Quinn’s hand tightened around the coffee cup. “I wasn’t using us as a tool, Bert. I was just trying to give reasons as to why I deserved to win this, to get what I am owed.”
Before Bert could respond, Quinn spoke up again. “If you just told me why, Bert. If you told me why you needed me to leave the band. That’s all I could’ve asked for. I didn’t want any of this .”
Bert stayed silent.
“Are you ever going to tell me why, Bert?” Quinn asked softly, but he already knew the answer was no. He’s spent six years trying to figure it out, and just because Bert was sitting beside him all of a sudden didn’t mean everything was going to be explained.
There was no response, but the man still wasn’t leaving his car, so it was clear their conversation wasn’t over just yet. As much as Quinn wished he could simply grab Bert by the shoulders and plead for some sort of answer, there was no use. Some things would always just remain unknown when it came to the two of them, and that’s how things always were, and how they always would be.
In desperation to clear the silence, Quinn scavenged through his brain to come up with something to say that didn’t revolve around them. “Do you guys play a show tonight?”
Bert nodded, a tiny smile cracking on his face. “Yeah, at Metro Music Hall.”
“What’s the setlist gonna be?” Quinn felt warm at the way Bert’s lips curled upwards instead of down. It was nice seeing a smile on his face, once that wasn’t forced. One that was caused by Quinn.
“I’m not sure, I haven’t fully decided. I have a couple songs in mind, but I’m the one in charge of figuring them out, so, it takes a bit longer,” Bert explained, and Quinn knew what that meant. It took longer because they used to make the setlists together, the two sat side by side each night as they chose what songs to perform.
The car was quiet for a few moments, and when Quinn went to set his coffee back in the cupholder, his arm brushed against Bert’s. The two immediately glanced at each other, and Quinn suddenly remembered just how pretty Bert was.
“You look different,” Quinn commented as he brought his arm back to his side. “It’s good. I mean, it’s a good different. You’ve been taking care of yourself.”
Bert’s face turned a slight shade of pink. “Thanks, yeah. I’m trying to take of myself, I really am.”
“Well, it looks like you’re doing a good job. I’m proud of you, Bert.”
“You are?” He asked. “Even after everything?”
Quinn nodded slowly, trying to find his words. “Yeah, even after everything.”
Bert’s eyes were back on his in less than a second, wide and worried but oh so inviting. Quinn knew exactly what that look meant, and he thought he’d never see it again, let alone see it the day he had plans to win a lawsuit against Bert.
“I think you look good too, Quinn. And, it is good to see you, even after everything.”
Quinn paused. Bert’s eyes were on his, and his lips were parted just slightly.
“What are you doing, Bert?” He asked, his voice quiet. Bert continued to watch him.
“I’m just talking to you, Quinn. Why? What’s wrong with that?”
Quinn shuffled a bit in his seat. “We haven’t talked in years, so… Why now? Like, in my car?”
“I don’t know. Why’d you let me in your car if you didn’t want to have a conversation with me?” Bert asked, an edge to his voice.
Quinn sucked in a breath, and suddenly Bert was leaning in too close, way too close, and he weaved his hand into Bert’s short blonde hair as they finally pressed their lips against each other. Bert exhaled against Quinn’s mouth, sending a chill down Quinn’s spine.
––––
“Jesus Christ,” Was all Quinn could say as Bert locked the door behind them. He wasn’t even sure where they were, all he knew was that he was in a random unoccupied conference room within the building with his ex-best friend. Which was, to say the least, probably one of the worst situations he could find himself in, but there was no way in hell he was going to leave.
"This is a bad idea,” He murmured to himself as Bert turned around, approaching him. Quinn felt defenseless, powerless under Bert’s gaze – he always had that hold on him. Quinn liked to think he was stronger than that now, especially based on their circumstances, but clearly, Quinn was just as weak as he was the entire time he and Bert were together.
“I want you,” Bert’s voice was quiet as the words left his lips, and fuck, how could Quinn resist that? There were a million reasons as to why Quinn should say no to this, but none of that mattered, because Bert was standing there and he wanted him.
“Yeah?” Quinn whispered in return, wrapping his hand around Bert’s arm and tugging him closer, trailing a finger down his jaw. Bert’s gaze went from controlling to helpless within a matter of seconds, leaning into Quinn’s touch. It always made him laugh how there were people who considered Bert to be some scary, crazy frontman; because whenever Quinn and him were alone, Bert looked more like a deer trapped in some headlights.
“ Fuck, yeah,” Bert replied, his voice coming out as a breathy whine.
God, this man was going to be the death of him.
Quinn pushed aside any thoughts of regret as he moved his hand onto Bert’s chin, gently moving his thumb against Bert’s bottom lip while staring into his eyes. Bert stared back, silently pleading for more with only his eyes, and his hips moved forward to grind against Quinn’s – which might’ve been one of the hottest things Quinn had ever seen.
If Quinn never saw Bert again, at least he could just keep that image in his mind for the rest of his life.
He obliged to Bert’s neediness, finally taking him by the jaw and kissing him roughly. Bert’s kisses were sloppy and exactly like they were years ago – guess Bert hadn’t changed much when it came to that section of his life. Quinn felt as Bert pushed his tongue into his mouth while their bodies were hot against each other’s. He knew he was starting to get hard, but there was no shame at this point, especially because he also could feel Bert was getting there too.
Quinn pulled away from the kiss for a moment, watching the way Bert chased after the kiss, eyes still shut in bliss. He shoved Bert a few steps away, watching as his back hit the wall. Bert’s eyes widened in shock but a smile formed on his face as Quinn approached him, taking one of his wrists and pinning it against the wall as he kissed Bert again. He slid one of his knees in between Bert’s thighs, hearing a whimper escape the man’s mouth at the friction.
“F-fuck, Quinn ,” Bert gasped, and Quinn’s lips curled up into a smile as he felt Bert grind against his leg desperately. He moved his mouth to Bert’s neck again, lightly sucking and biting at the thin, pale skin, relishing in all the little breathy “ah’s” Bert was letting out.
“Missed hearing you say my name like that,” Quinn said in between kisses, his breath warm against Bert’s neck. “Bet you missed it too, huh?”
He felt Bert nod, and he moved his lips back onto Bert’s, biting down on his lip and tugging. He realized he might’ve been a little too rough once he heard Bert squeak out in pain, but that didn’t matter – considering Bert only seemed to grip onto him tighter.
Quinn broke the kiss as he set his leg back on the ground, but it wasn’t long before Bert was back on him, his hands already under Quinn’s shirt, pulling the material up as he traced his fingers up and down Quinn’s abdomen. He took that as a sign that Bert wanted the shirt off, so he complied, unbuttoning the wrinkled dress shirt and tossing it on the floor. Bert followed his actions, pulling the tank top over his head and letting it fall to the ground as well.
Now, the tank top was pretty revealing, but it was a whole other experience to see Bert completely shirtless.
“God, you’re like, fucking ripped !” Quinn said in admiration. He never found himself drawn to buff guys, but Bert was clearly the exception now. Plus, he still had his small frame, and wow he looked good. Bert laughed as he put his arms around Quinn’s shoulders, pulling their bodies close, heat radiating between each other. Bert’s kisses were hot and desperate, and Quinn could only assume his were too as he held Bert’s hair in one hand and had the other on his lower back, keeping the man right against him.
The kissing continued, but Bert’s hand trailed lower until it reached Quinn’s belt. He fumbled with the clasp before he finally undid it and pushed the metal out of the way, immediately moving his fingers onto the button of the jeans, popping it open. He felt as Bert let his other hand join the situation, and suddenly his pants were pulled to his mid-thighs, and Bert’s palm was pressed against his cock.
“Oh fuck ,” Quinn gasped as he broke the kiss, his grip on Bert’s hair tightening. He looked at the man, who was staring back at him, his eyes wanting and desperate and Quinn had no idea why Bert was suddenly touching him like this.
“You’re so fucking hot, Quinn,” Bert whispered against Quinn’s mouth, his voice whiny and soft and so girly. Quinn smirked and tugged back on Bert’s hair, exposing the man’s neck and earning a gasp from him.
“God, so are you,” He grinned as he softly planted kisses up and down the soft skin of Bert’s neck, letting his teeth catch on the protruding veins every so often. He could feel Bert beginning to melt slightly in his arms, and he couldn’t help but feel proud at the way he still knew exactly what to do to the man.
He let go of Bert’s hair and moved his hand under the waistband of his sweatpants, familiarizing himself with Bert’s body once again. Surprisingly, Bert was already hard, and Quinn felt his body run hot at the fact that Bert was turned on even though Quinn had hardly touched him.
“Fuck, Bert, we only have like, shit ,” Quinn hissed at the feeling of Bert’s hand moving on him. “Fifteen minutes.”
Now, that used to never be an issue for them. In fact, they used to pride themselves on how easily they could get each other off – it allowed them a lot of leeway when it came to sex in the past. However, it had been over six years since they touched each other, and even though that was Bert , it was still risky.
“That’s plenty of time,” Bert grinned at him as he pulled off his sweatpants and boxers, and Quinn couldn’t even register that Bert McCracken was fully naked in front of him in the year of 2020. It felt unreal, and Quinn wouldn’t be surprised if this was a dream that he would wake up from at any moment.
“What do you want me to do?” Bert asked, and Quinn already had a million answers, but they were in a conference room with less than fifteen minutes before they had to return to their meeting. The meeting where Quinn was suing Bert for firing him and refusing to pay him.
Quinn didn’t want to be selfish, he never considered himself to be selfish in bed, but – based on the circumstances, he believed he deserved to put himself first for once.
“You’re gonna suck me off, alright?” It wasn’t a request, no, it was a command. And, for such a rebellious man like Bert, he dropped to his knees and obeyed far too easily.
“Yeah, fuck, please ,” Bert replied, and Quinn swore he looked so similar to how he did back in 2013, whenever they’d sneak off into some bathroom before or after a show, or that time in the bus at Warped Tour before they had an interview when they were in Australia.
Bert stared up at Quinn as he quickly pulled down Quinn’s boxers, taking him in his hand. Quinn gently threaded his fingers into Bert’s hair, keeping his eyes on the man.
“Eager, aren’t we?” He smirked, and Bert narrowed his eyes, but he stayed quiet as he began to jerk Quinn off. It took everything in him to not buck his hips into Bert’s hands, and he took a deep breath, focusing on the way Bert’s fingers looked wrapped around his cock.
While his hand remained on Quinn, Bert moved his head forward and started to plant gentle kisses on the tops of Quinn’s thighs. Quinn let out a low gasp at the feeling, and when Bert ran his teeth along Quinn’s hip bone, he let a quiet “ fuck ”, his fingers tightening in the mess of dirty blonde.
“Can I?” Bert asked with pleading eyes, and Quinn nodded almost immediately, his hips bucking slightly at the combination of Bert’s hand and words.
Bert's eyes sparkled with delight as he coated his lips with saliva, leaning forward and engulfing Quinn's dick in his warm mouth. He sunk down quickly, the back of his throat coming in contact with the tip of Quinn’s cock, and it took everything in Quinn to not thrust forward. After a few seconds, Bert pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a sultry grin.
“I forgot how big you are, fuck ,” Bert moaned in a breathy tone, reaching his own hand down to slowly jack himself off as he planted a soft kiss on Quinn’s tip. He moved his mouth back down Quinn's cock energetically, his hand gently holding the base. Bert’s tongue wrapped around the head of the cock, licking and teasing it. Quinn felt like he was basically high off lust at this point – his eyes half-lidded, cheeks red, and he kept letting out small deep breaths and curses.
Quinn’s head fell back as Bert continued to suck up and down his length, the only noises in the room being from Bert’s mouth and Quinn’s soft moans.
He finally forced himself to open his eyes as he didn’t want to waste any second where Bert was on his knees, and he almost came at the sight of Bert’s cock being red and rock-hard against his stomach, the tip glistening with precum.
“Fuck, look at you. You’re getting off on this? On sucking me off?” Quinn asked, his words coming out in a scratchy, deep voice. Bert nodded and hummed around him, the vibrations sending a chill down Quinn’s whole body.
“Come on, Bert. I want you to touch yourself, want you to cum while my cock is down your throat,” He ordered, and Bert whined around him as he took his cock into his hand, following Quinn’s request. Quinn watched in awe as Bert’s eyes fluttered shut in pleasure as he slowly jerked himself off, using his own precum as lube. He couldn’t help himself as he accidentally bucked into Bert’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat, watching as Bert’s eyes opened at the feeling.
“That’s it, baby. So good, so fucking good,” Quinn spewed out, and he wasn’t even sure what he was saying at this rate, but all he knew was that Bert deserved praise. Bert pulled off for a moment, taking a deep breath, before Quinn gripped his hair and pulled him back down again, groaning at the way Bert’s throat tightened around him.
He let go of his grip, letting Bert set the pace again. The whole time Bert was jerking himself off at the same time, moans becoming more insistent as he worked harder, taking him deeper into his throat than before.
Quinn watched in awe at the scene in front of him, trying to take deep breaths as he felt himself being brought closer to the edge by the man on his knees in front of him. It might’ve been six years since they were last together, but clearly, that didn’t matter, because everything felt just as natural as it did in 2014.
Slowly, Bert deepthroated him once more, moaning around his shaft as his hand moved faster up and down his own length. Bert increased the pace of his strokes, and Quinn’s grip tightened in Bert’s hair, pulling him down and holding him in place as he bucked deep into his throat.
“Yeah, that's good, baby... You're so fucking good at this,” Quinn praised, relishing in the way Bert hummed around him. “Oh god, I'm close, don't stop.”
Bert met Quinn’s eyes, silently pleading for Quinn to let go, and it was that look that caused Quinn to push himself deep into Bert’s mouth, letting out a low gasp that he tried to stifle with his hand as he came in Bert’s mouth. He felt as the man swallowed around him, taking everything as he continued to keep his eyes locked on Quinn’s.
“Fuck, Bert, holy shit,” Quinn said between breaths, and he sunk down so he was on his knees beside Bert, pulling him into a kiss. He batted Bert’s hand out of the way, spitting in his own hand as he took hold of his cock and jerked him off in a fast and hard rhythm. It wasn’t long before Bert moaned loudly into Quinn’s mouth, spilling all over Quinn’s hand, legs shaking slightly.
“ Fuck,” Bert managed to breathe out, his voice scratchy and hoarse from Quinn’s dick. Quinn looked around for something to wipe Bert’s cum off his hand with, and settled on the inside of Bert’s sweats. He grabbed them and cleaned himself off, before tossing them over to Bert, who scowled at him.
“I have to wear these on stage, you asshole!” Bert snapped, and Quinn rolled his eyes.
“That never stopped you in the past, like, ever,” He chuckled, and Bert shook his head as he cleaned himself off. Quinn pulled his boxers and jeans back up, and reached down to grab both their shirts, tossing Bert his tank top.
Luckily, it didn’t take long for the two to be fully dressed, however, they did look extremely disheveled, which was a tad concerning.
It sort of all settled in as Quinn took a deep breath that he just got a blowjob from the man he was suing, at the mediation. Fuck , he was an idiot.
“Why do you look so scared all of a sudden?” Bert spoke up, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead as he walked over toward him. Quinn let out a laugh of disbelief at the whole situation.
“Because, what the fuck? What the fuck did we just do, Bert?” He asked, though he was talking to himself more than he was to Bert. The man raised an eyebrow at him, before his own face turned into one of concern.
“We just…” Bert trailed off, looking away. Quinn nodded, taking deep breaths as he watched Bert run a hand through his hair. “We just hooked up.”
Even though Quinn was openly freaking out, he couldn’t help but feel his heart hurt a tad at the way Bert’s voice held a form of regret. He let out a laugh, trying to lighten up the mood, even though that felt a bit impossible.
Bert didn’t laugh with him, and instead, he finally looked back up at Quinn, his eyes serious, almost upset.
“What?” Quinn asked slowly.
“I told myself that this whole thing, us , it was over. I, I wasn’t planning on this happening, Quinn!”
Bert’s words were frantic, rushed, accusatory. Quinn felt guilt pool in his stomach at the way Bert looked, before he looked away.
“You think I was planning for something like this?” He asked, his volume a bit louder than before. Since when was this Quinn’s fault? “ You kissed me , Bert!”
Bert went silent at that. He knew Quinn was right, and maybe if this was ten years ago, Bert would’ve still fought it, but there didn’t seem like there was any fight left in him.
Quinn knew that feeling all too well.
“I, um,” Bert stuttered, looking anywhere but Quinn’s face. “We should head back. The meeting is probably starting soon.”
The meeting. The meeting that would determine if Quinn would be getting money from Bert after what happened to him.
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” He replied, attempting one last time to smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt. Before Bert could move, he took a few steps toward the man and placed a gentle hand on his arm, causing him to look up.
“What?” Bert asked, his voice small. Quinn didn’t like that, he didn’t like seeing Bert so worried, so scared. Especially when it was due to something that involved him.
“I’ll stop,” Quinn said before he could control himself. Bert stared in confusion.
“Stop what?”
Quinn let his hand drop and fall back to his side. “I won’t bring us up anymore. It isn’t fair, to weaponize our past.”
Bert smirked in a way that seemed painful. “How else are you going to win this?”
Quinn sighed. Bert was technically right, it was a huge part of his argument.
“I’ll figure it out. I just don’t want you thinking that the shit that happened between us doesn’t matter to me, because fuck , it matters. It matters more than you would ever know, Bert,” He let the words roll out of his mouth, and the way Bert’s face softened made it all worth it.
“Thank you,” Bert said, and he didn’t look as scared anymore. That was all Quinn wanted, that’s all he’s ever wanted. For Bert to feel safe around him.
“Listen, I need to go smoke a quick cigarette before we start again,” Bert smiled meekly, and Quinn laughed lightly.
“Fine, I guess I’ll see ya,” He replied, and there was this sudden ease between that he couldn’t describe. Things felt calm, at bay. Bert’s smile was warm and Quinn couldn’t help but smile back, feeling his eyes squint up in the typical way they always did whenever he used to look at Bert.
He watched as Bert left the room, and Quinn took a deep breath.
Of course, Bert thought things were over, that things came to an end – because so did he. Were they both idiots for assuming that whatever they had would disappear? It was never like that for them, it was constant and messy and sometimes they were in love and sometimes they were enemies, so why did the both of them assume that somehow, things would finally end?
Quinn took a breath as he straightened his shirt and stepped out of the room, silently thinking about the way Bert looked at him, like he was still in love, like he still wanted him. How the way Bert looked made Quinn suddenly want to put down his armor and weapons and forgive him. How the way Bert looked made Quinn wonder if this, them , really ever had to end in the first place.
––––
Quinn hadn’t told anyone that he won the case yet. It didn’t feel like anything to brag about, he didn’t feel good that his old friends were going to be giving him money. He decided to go out by himself to avoid any questions from his wife or his mother-in-law, yet now he just felt out of place, sitting alone in a bar with a beer in his hand as another text from Branden showed up on his phone screen.
“Quinn. Did you win? ”
“QUINN! ”
“Dude. Call me – Tell me everything! How much $$$ did ya get? ”
He turned his phone on silent as he took a sip of beer. It was getting late, the bar was probably going to close soon, it was almost midnight. Utah bars sucked ass.
Before Quinn packed his stuff up, a previous conversation lingered in his mind.
“I’m just saying that maybe we cut that from the set tonight, Bert. Might not be the best idea,” Jepha said in a calm tone. Quinn wondered what they were talking about, what song Jepha wanted Bert to cut from the set. Bert rolled his eyes and let out a laugh, and his smile was clearly forced, and Quinn hated how it looked. The three hadn’t noticed him yet, surprisingly, so he sat there, pretending like he couldn’t hear any of their words.
“Fuck that, I wanna keep it. I’m fucking sick and tired of accommodating what I want to do, alright? He isn’t here anymore, I get that. I’m still allowed to play the fucking song,” Bert snapped, his words sharp and venomous.
Maybe Quinn should just glance at the setlist, because why not . It wasn’t like he and Bert didn’t talk about it, and he was curious.
He searched it up, and luckily, someone posted it pretty quickly. The set looked pretty typical, though he was a bit shocked at the inclusion of ‘Sick Hearts’. Quinn’s teeth sunk into his lips at the sight of ‘Lunacy Fringe’ being played just before ‘Paralyzed’, but that was nothing in comparison to the way his eyes widened at the very bottom of the screen.
Note: “On My Own” was listed on the written setlist, but not played .
Quinn took his wallet out and set the cash on the table as a tip for the bartender. He shoved his phone into his pocket before standing up and walking toward the exit.
He promised Bert he wouldn’t use what they had against him, and somehow, this felt similar. Quinn smiled at the thought.
*** SEPT 2021 ***
Heartwork Deluxe . Eleven more songs added.
Now, Quinn was only human, it wasn’t like he was going to deny himself of alleviating his curiosity of what those new songs could possibly be.
His eyes skimmed the track list, before reaching the final song on the album. The title, that was intentional, Quinn was sure of it. He hadn’t even listened to the fucking song, but he knew. He clicked on it, bracing himself. He didn’t know if he was angry or hurt when he heard the piano, but when Bert began singing, he quickly realized that it was hurt, everything in him hurt.
“ Don’t you miss the violence ?” Bert’s voice was crisp, clear, and laced with a drug that seemed to only affect Quinn. The question Bert was asking was simple, but then again, Bert did always love the simple things.
Yes , the answer was yes. Of course Quinn missed the violence. He always would.
He continued to listen, his teeth sinking into his lip at every line, every breath Bert took. Each second clawed at his insides, hurting in ways much worse than anything physical.
Quinn let go of his bottom lip at the final line.
“ I guess this never has to end .”