darker_london | Back to normal (Flynn/Quinn)

"We've never done it in the elevator."

Flynn looked up from the lined staff paper he had been scrawling musical notes on, and he raised his eyebrows at his husband. They had spent the last hour in silence, Quinn working on his thesis and Flynn working on a new song for the band. He couldn't quite get the bridge right. And now Quinn had broken the silence, in typical Quinn fashion, by bringing up doing it in the elevator? "It's see-through," Flynn responded, matter-of-factly.

"So?"

"So Adrina and your brother don't need to see your bare ass pressed up against the glass, let alone anything else."

Quinn made a 'pfft' noise and he waved his hands around. "We can lock them out," he said, leaning forward to lean on his books with a dreamy look on his face.

"It's Adrina's house!" Flynn protested.

"Mal, why are you ruining my plans to take you in every room of this house?" Quinn asked with a smirk.

"Because you are ridiculous and silly," Flynn explained. "And the elevator wouldn't be a good place anyway, it's a relatively short trip down."

Quinn looked thoughtful with his chin in his hands. "We could stop the elevator."

"We are not having sex in the elevator!" Flynn said with a laugh. "We'll besmirch it! Aren't you supposed to be writing your thesis, Master Wakefield?"

Quinn's grin was slightly wicked. "You distracted me with your naughty eyes."

"I was writing music! I wasn't even looking at you!"

"And you had naughty eyes!" Quinn insisted. "Are you writing sex music?" Quinn's eyes were wide.

Flynn considered that and then he shrugged. "Possibly. I'm writing passionate music anyway. So my eyes made you decide you wanted to fuck in the elevator? Are you aware you're very unique?"

"I am," Quinn said, jumping up from his desk chair and trotting over to Flynn's chair. "Malllll, pay attention to meeeee! I'm bored of writing."

Flynn snorted and he put his music aside. "You're like a child sometimes. Come sit on my lap, come on," Flynn said, patting his lap and laughing when Quinn climbed right into it. "I'm still not fucking you in the elevator."

Quinn leaned in to kiss Flynn's nose. "What about on the balcony?"

"I'll freeze my balls off."

Quinn looked at Flynn through his good eye, the other one closed as he said wryly, "says the man who once told me we should have sex in an alley to warm ourselves up?"

"Well it worked." Flynn rested his hands on Quinn's hips and he smiled up at his husband. "But I was also about ten years younger and slightly insane. And you know how loud you are. You'll alert the people on the street and they'll look up on what they think is a church tower to see two men fucking."

"Hallelujah!" Quinn said happily.

"That actually does sound kind of fun," Flynn mused. "But I could just, oh I don't know, sleep with you in bed. Our warm, nice bed that is big and has nice sheets on it, instead of concrete pebbles."

"You ruin all my fun, Malachy Flynn," Quinn informed his husband with a fake little pout.

"I know. I'm an arse." Flynn reached up to run his fingers through Quinn's hair and he smiled happily at the other man. Things were getting back to normal with them. They had reached a happy stasis, and Quinn was his usual silly self against Flynn's more serious nature and dry humour. It felt good and right and comfortable. "But I love you."

"I love you too, Killjoy," Quinn informed him. "And you make me happy, even if you won't fuck in elevators."

"We could do it on your desk again," Flynn suggested.

"Oooh!" Quinn jumped off and he bounded over to his desk to sweep everything off of it, which thankfully wasn't much, and then he turned around to Flynn, grinning proudly. "Ready!"

Flynn chuckled as he stood up and went to be with his husband, writing music in his head the whole way.

There was no inspiration like Quinn.