darker_london | Stop Fighting (Flynn, Quinn)

"Your mother is trying to kill me with pie." A very full Malachy Flynn commented as he climbed onto Quinn's bed looking a tad uncomfortable.

"Ah, you've caught on to her insidious plan..." Quinn smiled at his boyfriend and he reached out to pull Flynn towards him.

"But it's not even Christmas yet." Flynn continued with his conspiracy theory. "And I'm so full I might explode."

"Yeah, you might gain an ounce, you wee stringbean." Flynn was still as thin as anything, despite having regular access to food now. Something he hadn't had for six years not all that long ago. "I don't know how you'll cope."

"I'll buy bigger trousers." Flynn curled up (carefully) at Quinn's side, resting his head against Quinn's shoulder. "It'd be a miracle. A trousers miracle."

Quinn snorted and he gave Flynn an extremely fond look. "A trousers miracle, hmm? You're a strange one, Mal."

"But you love me." Flynn remarked easily then, flashing a smile up at Quinn.

"Aye. I do." Quinn's arms tightened around Flynn, pleased that Flynn had even gotten this close. After an angel had made Quinn believe he had cheated on Flynn, things had been more than a little strained. Even after the discovery that it had all been some sort of supernatural game, that didn't mean everything was just magically okay again. Quinn had still kept something from Flynn, real or not, and Flynn was taking his time getting over that. Even if Quinn understood and respected that, it made him sad. This closeness now was not something he was going to take for granted.

Then, to Quinn's pleased surprise, Flynn moved his hands until he could slide them up inside Quinn's shirt. There, he gently stroked the smooth skin of Quinn's chest before turning his head so he could kiss his neck. Quinn let his eyes fall closed, even as he shivered a little with pleasure. He hadn't expected Flynn to instigate something, but he wasn't about to argue!

"And I love you." At that, Flynn shifted his body so he was straddling Quinn's hips. And he grinned down at Quinn.

"You got over my mother's attempts to fatten you up quickly there..." Quinn breathed, rather over-excited now... Flynn's familiar weight on top of him was more than welcome, but he desperately hoped Flynn wasn't planning on just sitting...

"I have motivation." Flynn leaned forward, planting a kiss on Quinn's forehead. "I am so sick and tired of having a war with myself in my head." In between words, he continued to kiss Quinn all over his face and neck. "I hate the things I did to get to Frankie. I hate feeling the way I did because of what that angel did to you. I hate not knowing what I'm feeling because it keeps changing." Flynn stopped his random kissing and he hovered there, inches above Quinn's face so he could look into Quinn's eyes as he bared his soul. "You're the only constant I have ever had. And I'm sick of letting my mind keep me from you."

"Mal..." Quinn reached up to cup Flynn's face in his hands. "I'm right here. Waiting. Like I always am. I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to rush-" But then Flynn's lips were on his and he couldn't speak anymore for several minutes until Flynn pulled away, breathless. "Right.... Or that could work."

Flynn chuckled and then he moved himself down so he could kiss Quinn's stomach. "I'm not rushing anything." He said against Quinn's skin. "For me, it's always been you." And it always would be too. It was time to stop fighting it, and himself, and just be content to let himself feel happy.