darker_london | Panta-Loons (Quinn, Flynn)

The thin red line around Flynn's neck and a rather large bruise under Flynn's hair was all that remained of his altercation with the Night Watch during the rescue of Spectre. The memories of finding his best friend in such a state, however, those were still present and horrible.

While Quinn had been in a coma, Flynn had taken up smoking again. After trying so hard to quit, it seemed like a horrible step backwards, but he had needed something to calm him. He had needed them. And when he walked into Quinn's hospital room smelling of cigarettes, it was that Quinn noticed first, and not Flynn's injuries. "Oh my god, you smell like bliss," Quinn breathed, his eyes closed.

Flynn paused in the doorway and, seeing his husband so lucid, he grinned his lopsided grin. "I think I smell like an ashtray, but whatever floats your boat. Hi, by the way!" Flynn zoomed across the room and he climbed up right beside his husband, who looked absolutely thrilled by those circumstances.

"Hi, Hero! Dear God, your neck!" Quinn reached up and he ran his fingers just under the reddened line around Flynn's throat. "My brave Mal. What happened?"

"Someone thought they could jump me from behind, but only my husband gets to do that," Flynn said, hiding his horror at being successfully jumped behind humour. No one had managed to do that to him since he was fourteen years old. Flynn was usually hyper-aware of his surroundings and it was usually Flynn who was sneaking up on people. Having it happen the other way around had shaken him, though not as much as seeing Spectre crucified had. "It's okay, it looks worse than it feels."

"It looks like someone tried to take your head off!" Quinn squeaked, reaching for his husband so he could hold him tightly. "Mal..."

"Well Peter saved me. I hardly think someone who got shot in the guts should be worried about a little thing like this." Flynn leaned down to kiss Quinn's cheek and then he curled up at Quinn's side. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Quinn replied easily. And it was obvious he hated it when Flynn went away even if it had been to rescue Spectre.

"No, I mean..." Flynn sighed and he brushed some of Quinn's hair out of his eyes. "When you were sleeping. No one knew if you would be okay when you woke up and before that no one knew if you would make it through the surgery... I thought I was being punished for marrying you even though I knew it might endanger you."

"That's silly," Quinn whispered. "Mal, I'm going to be just fa..fan...fine. I'm..I'm going to be fine. Fuck that's a- annoying. It only happens sometimes."

Flynn didn't really understand what was going on, but he stayed where he was, curled up by his husband's side. "Adrina said you were getting a tattoo?"

"Heh...yeah. Surprise," Quinn said dryly. "It was supposed to be coloured in and everything. I really thought he was going to kill me, Mal."

Flynn tightened his grip on his husband and he hid his face in Quinn's shoulder. "I don't know what to do, Quinn. Frankie...he's out there and I don't know what to do with him."

Quinn sighed and he looked up at the ceiling. "Well...Spectre bought us an alarm system for Adrina's birthday. And I'll just be...really careful. I really hate your stupid brother, Mal. I really do."

"Fucking ditto." Flynn refused to move, and he got comfortable beside Quinn. "Let's just lie here and be together. Okay? But if I say something...you'll answer?" It had been a long time since he'd been able to talk to Quinn. He had missed it.

"Of course, Bub. I'll answer. We can talk about anything you want."

"Shoes?" Flynn asked which made Quinn laugh. Flynn had no idea about shoes or fashion or anything of the sort. "Pantaloons!? How it's hip to be square?"

Quinn laughed and he turned to his side so he could twine his fingers in with Flynn's. "You are one unique monkey," he informed his husband. "So don't you dare get garotted."

"And don't you dare let my brother succeed in offing you."

"Deal," Quinn smiled and then he leaned in to cut off Flynn's words with a kiss. Because if they were going to be talking, they might as well be kissing too.