In the glow of you (Flynn/Quinn)
Mar. 15th, 2011 09:46 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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darker_londonIt was Quinn's stomach that drove him out of bed, despite wishing he could stay curled up beside the warm body of his husband forever. His hunger wouldn't be ignored.
He rose and showered first, making his way out of the bedroom with a towel across his shoulders and clad only in pajama bottoms. He didn't bother with a shirt. As he exited his bedroom, he very nearly trod on a box of Turkish delight which had been left outside their door the night before. Quinn smirked and he bent down to pick up the box.
"Adrina you absolute dork," he said fondly even though his sleeping best friend couldn't have heard.
Quinn was in the kitchen frying up some eggs when Flynn wandered into it looking like he had stuck his finger in an electrical socket and that severely depressed him. Flynn was not a morning person. Before he had coffee into him it was pointless to even speak to him, as he would not speak back no matter how much he loved you. When he entered the room at a Frankenstein Monster-like pace, his hair sticking up in all directions, Quinn pointed to the coffee which was freshly brewed without saying a word. Flynn shuffled over to it, grabbing a mug on his way. He poured himself a glass and he stood in the corner looking grumpy while he tipped the brew into his face without adding a thing.
Quinn served himself some eggs and toast and he sat at the table, waiting for his husband to give him the cue it was alright to speak. It was a comforting and familiar dance and Quinn smiled all through his meal. His husband was back. He was no longer faced with mornings alone. It made him feel warm, safe and loved. His life, of late, had held a distinct lack of all three, but no more.
"Urgh," Flynn finally groaned.
"Do you want some toast?" Quinn asked him and Flynn responded by looking like he had never wanted anything less. "Adrina left you a present outside the door this morning," he said, pointing at the box on the table. He watched as Flynn's expression lifted into a smile.
"Did you sleep well?" Quinn asked.
"I forgot how comfy that bed is," Flynn said, a small smirk working its way onto his face.
"Or how tired sex makes you, grandpa?" Quinn asked, beaming at his husband.
"I am not your grandpa, that's weird," Flynn informed Quinn, shuffling towards the table. "And I am only a few months older than you."
Quinn chuckled at how very Flynn that response was. His husband's trait of taking things incredibly literall was endearing. "I was referring to how you're walking this morning. It's almost ungainly for someone as cat-like as you."
Flynn snorted into his second cup of coffee. Quinn was right. Flynn usually moved so silently he could be in a room with you for an hour before you even noticed. He was graceful and coordinated and this morning he seemed to have forgotten that. "And whose fault is that?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "That wasn't a question, by the way. It's your fault. Eat your toast."
Quinn responded with a grin as he did just that. "What did you want to do today, Bub? I have the day off at Uni, so the day is yours really. We could go to the park if the weather is good. Or make a day of it and go touristing. We can't have seen anything in this city yet."
"Or we could stay in bed and I could eat that Turkish delight off of you," Flynn suggested without even looking up at Quinn. "Just a thought."
Quinn paused with his forkful of egg halfway to his mouth. "I would get so powdery."
"I would have to lick it off," Flynn said, making it sound like it was such a pity, but he was grinning now too.
"Well," Quinn laughed. "I think that beats the museum."
"But does it beat the library?"
"You fiend!" Quinn hissed. "Don't make me choose between sex and the library!"
Flynn inched his chair forward and he leaned in to kiss Quinn's forehead. "I never would. Finish your breakfast like a good boy, I'll be waiting upstairs."
He rose from the table, depositing his mug in the sink before taking the stairs slowly up towards their bedroom again. Quinn watched after him for a moment before inhaling the rest of his food, grabbing the box back from the table, and following at a much faster pace taking the stairs two by two. Their phones remained off and they stayed holed up in their own little world, unaware of what was happening beyond their bedroom door.
He rose and showered first, making his way out of the bedroom with a towel across his shoulders and clad only in pajama bottoms. He didn't bother with a shirt. As he exited his bedroom, he very nearly trod on a box of Turkish delight which had been left outside their door the night before. Quinn smirked and he bent down to pick up the box.
"Adrina you absolute dork," he said fondly even though his sleeping best friend couldn't have heard.
Quinn was in the kitchen frying up some eggs when Flynn wandered into it looking like he had stuck his finger in an electrical socket and that severely depressed him. Flynn was not a morning person. Before he had coffee into him it was pointless to even speak to him, as he would not speak back no matter how much he loved you. When he entered the room at a Frankenstein Monster-like pace, his hair sticking up in all directions, Quinn pointed to the coffee which was freshly brewed without saying a word. Flynn shuffled over to it, grabbing a mug on his way. He poured himself a glass and he stood in the corner looking grumpy while he tipped the brew into his face without adding a thing.
Quinn served himself some eggs and toast and he sat at the table, waiting for his husband to give him the cue it was alright to speak. It was a comforting and familiar dance and Quinn smiled all through his meal. His husband was back. He was no longer faced with mornings alone. It made him feel warm, safe and loved. His life, of late, had held a distinct lack of all three, but no more.
"Urgh," Flynn finally groaned.
"Do you want some toast?" Quinn asked him and Flynn responded by looking like he had never wanted anything less. "Adrina left you a present outside the door this morning," he said, pointing at the box on the table. He watched as Flynn's expression lifted into a smile.
"Did you sleep well?" Quinn asked.
"I forgot how comfy that bed is," Flynn said, a small smirk working its way onto his face.
"Or how tired sex makes you, grandpa?" Quinn asked, beaming at his husband.
"I am not your grandpa, that's weird," Flynn informed Quinn, shuffling towards the table. "And I am only a few months older than you."
Quinn chuckled at how very Flynn that response was. His husband's trait of taking things incredibly literall was endearing. "I was referring to how you're walking this morning. It's almost ungainly for someone as cat-like as you."
Flynn snorted into his second cup of coffee. Quinn was right. Flynn usually moved so silently he could be in a room with you for an hour before you even noticed. He was graceful and coordinated and this morning he seemed to have forgotten that. "And whose fault is that?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "That wasn't a question, by the way. It's your fault. Eat your toast."
Quinn responded with a grin as he did just that. "What did you want to do today, Bub? I have the day off at Uni, so the day is yours really. We could go to the park if the weather is good. Or make a day of it and go touristing. We can't have seen anything in this city yet."
"Or we could stay in bed and I could eat that Turkish delight off of you," Flynn suggested without even looking up at Quinn. "Just a thought."
Quinn paused with his forkful of egg halfway to his mouth. "I would get so powdery."
"I would have to lick it off," Flynn said, making it sound like it was such a pity, but he was grinning now too.
"Well," Quinn laughed. "I think that beats the museum."
"But does it beat the library?"
"You fiend!" Quinn hissed. "Don't make me choose between sex and the library!"
Flynn inched his chair forward and he leaned in to kiss Quinn's forehead. "I never would. Finish your breakfast like a good boy, I'll be waiting upstairs."
He rose from the table, depositing his mug in the sink before taking the stairs slowly up towards their bedroom again. Quinn watched after him for a moment before inhaling the rest of his food, grabbing the box back from the table, and following at a much faster pace taking the stairs two by two. Their phones remained off and they stayed holed up in their own little world, unaware of what was happening beyond their bedroom door.
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