darker_london | First Fight (Flynn, Quinn)

Sometimes, Flynn said things he really wished he hadn't. It didn't happen to him as often as it did to say...Deirdre. Mostly because he probably said about a quarter of the words in a week as as Deirdre said in an hour. But it happened to him too. And when it happened on Christmas night, after two days of seemingly unending bliss, it did rather leave him with the horrible urge to hurl himself from the Wakefield's roof. He didn't though. Instead he sat on the frosty grass and he sulked. He was a champion sulker. Especially with a cigarette, that really completed the look.

The night hadn't started off horribly. In fact, it had started off rather well. All of Quinn's relatives were wonderful and they didn't ask him any questions to which he'd have to either lie or give a horrible answer to. He had the distinct feeling they'd been briefed before they arrived, but none of them said anything embarrassing like, 'he has good manners for a street kid' either. Even if it was true, dammit.

After dinner, and an appropriate amount of lying around, groaning about how the food had been wonderful and how they'd all had too much of it, Quinn and Flynn had fled to Quinn's bedroom to exchange gifts. Flynn even handed one to Quinn, wrapped in paper with little cats with Santa hats on. "It's for Booster." Flynn said with a smile.

"You got my cat a present?!" Quinn asked, absolutely delighted. Flynn really was the most amazing boyfriend in the world. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

Quinn called Booster over, and he sniffed the package with great interest. Quinn ripped it open and a bag of treats, a toy mouse, and a bag of catnip were revealed. "Oh brilliant!" Quinn said, dropping the bag of catnip as he squashed the paper into a ball. "And the paper's a present too!" He said with a grin. Booster went straight for the catnip, rolling around on top of the package with a look of abject glee. "Of course he'd go straight for the drugs. Niphead."

Flynn giggled, and he reached out to rub Booster's belly as the cat rolled around on the herb, completely oblivious to outside stimuli. "He looks sort of manic..." Flynn said, poking him.

"He'll be occupied for a while..." Quinn sighed and rolled his eyes. "Come on. Open your presents."

And he had certainly done that. Quinn had given him wonderful things, mostly things to put around his room because he knew how much it meant to Flynn that he had a place to himself for the first time in a long time. A place to make his own. The most meaningful thing was a framed picture of the both of them, kissing after the London concert. Flynn had a feeling Renee had taken it, as it was framed wonderfully, capturing the lights of the stage, and the audience and the perfect glowing happiness of two boys in love. "They're perfect." Flynn said softly, and he meant it. He pulled Quinn up onto the bed with him, and there was certainly no talking then for quite awhile.

Flynn's downfall came when he and Quinn were cuddled up together under the blankets, arms wrapped around each other blissfully. Flynn frowned, and he kissed Quinn's forehead in the dim glow that Quinn's Christmas lights were giving off. "I'm worried about Julian." He admitted softly.

Quinn sat up straighter, the blankets falling to his lap to reveal his bare chest. Flynn leaned against him almost instantly, and Quinn kissed his head. "I'm sorry, Bub. What did Spectre say?"

"Mostly that he was worried too. Abby said that he's probably in a shelter, but that doesn't necessarily make me feel better. Some of those places are...they're bad." Flynn mumbled against Quinn's skin.

"Oh, Mal...I know." Just because the shelter that Quinn volunteered at was a safe place, that didn't mean they all were. Far from it. "But he's a smart kid, and he knows he can come back home. He has an out. He'll take it eventually." He knew Flynn would have if he could have. But Flynn hadn't been that lucky, and it really pissed Quinn off that Julian was out there, completely wasting what he'd been given while people like Mal were so grateful just to have someone to talk to because they'd been deprived of it for so goddamn long.

"I just hope he..." Flynn bit his lip and he sat up. "I don't want him to be out there without money. Especially not when he's going to want it for drugs. There's not many money-making options open there..."

"He has his guitar, right?" Quinn said, trying to be helpful.

"Busking won't cover a drug habit..." Flynn said gravely. "Especially if he's jonesing and he can't actually do it. I just...I don't want him to have to do what I did. He's just a kid."

"Mal, you were just a kid too. We were both just kids. What uhm...what do you mean, what you did? Like...uhm...foraging?" It still made Quinn feel ill when he thought about the fact that he'd eaten food that other people had thrown away, but really...he'd needed it and there was noway around that.

"No." Flynn shook his head. "Like...people will give him money for favours, but I don't want him to have to do that. Because Julian's all...innocent..."

Quinn blinked, and then he backed up a little. "Mal...are you uhm...talking about sexual favours. You...performed sexual favours for people and they paid you?"

"Yeah." Flynn shrugged. "If they didn't fuck off afterwards. Sometimes that happened. And I don't want Julian to go through any of that because it's...horrible."

"I didn't...know you did that." Quinn seemed a little lost.

"Not all the time. Only when things were bad and I needed some money. I wasn't like a...I didn't have a street corner or anything." Flynn smiled, but his smile faded when Quinn didn't return the expression. "What's...what's wrong?"

"I...I hate to think of you doing that." Quinn whispered. He didn't hate it because he was jealous, even if that's how Flynn was taking it. He hated it because it was heart-breaking to think of his Mal going through something like that.

"I'm sorry!" Flynn said quickly, looking alarmed. "I didn't have a choice!"

"But...okay, how many uhm...how many people are we talking here?" Quinn asked slowly.

"I don't know!" Flynn protested. It wasn't like he'd done it professionally, which had the drawback of not having returning customers. It meant picking up random people. Lots of random people. No person twice. "Uhm...probably less than 100..."

Quinn's mouth fell open. "Probably!?"

"What?!" Flynn's heart was pounding against his chest now, and he didn't even know what he'd done wrong. He would have died if he hadn't done it. Quinn would have died. Which was exactly the wrong thing to tell Quinn. But he did anyway. "I didn't do drugs like Julian, but two people are more expensive than one person and busking wasn't enough so I just-"

"Wait!" Quinn held up his hand and Flynn stopped instantly, though his breathing was still in panic-mode. "Are you telling me you started this when we were still together?!"

Oh. Shit. Flynn's face crumpled. "Er-"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Quinn jumped out of the bed and he hurried over to his trousers to pull them on.

Flynn followed, absolutely frantic now. "Please, Quinn! I'm sorry! You were starving and I couldn't watch it so I just-"

"Don't blame it on me!" Quinn shrieked.

"No!" Oh god, he was making it worse with everything he said. He pulled his trousers on as well and he reached out for Quinn's arm, but Quinn pulled away. "Quinn, please! I didn't mean that! I'm not blaming anyone! I'm not! It wasn't like that! I did what I had to do to take care of you!"

"Without telling me about it!" Quinn shook his head and then he threw open his door, storming to the den where, seconds later, Flynn said the little window in the door illuminate with flickering telly light.

"Fuck!" Flynn hissed, tears instantly springing to his eyes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He turned around, punching the doorjamb hard, which only caused his knuckles to explode in pain he hardly felt. He hurried to his coat, and he pulled it on, heading out to the law where he could smoke, cry, and brood to the best of his abilities.

Merry fucking Christmas.