Acceptance (Flynn, Quinn)
It was Christmas, and for the first time ever, the entire family was in London for it. Maree and Bob had moved down and were well and truly settled. Even Quinn's birth parents had come to stay in order to be with their son on Christmas. It was Flynn's third Christmas with Quinn, and he was quite sure the novelty would never, ever wear off.
They had spent their Christmas afternoon as they always did, with Flynn playing songs at a Children's shelter and then giving out presents. This year they had a shelter of their own they handed out presents at as well, and by the time the arrived back at Bob and Maree's place, they were both exhausted and starving.
"Ah, the intrepid heroes are back from their day of heroing!" Eamon called to his parents. "And they look wrecked!"
"I had children hanging off me," Quinn said with a laugh as Flynn helped him pull his coat off. "Apparently they like me."
"It's because they mistake him for one of them," Flynn said with a wink.
"Oh hah hah, I have a baby face," Quinn stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend.
"Uh...if you two feel like having a play before dinner, at least do it in one of the guest rooms," Eamon laughed. "I'm going to go find my girlfriend. Oh and Q, Uncle Dermot keeps mentioning he wants to talk to Flynn."
Flynn's face paled and he glanced at Quinn in a panicky way as Eamon left them alone. Quickly, Flynn pulled Quinn into the guest room that wasn't being occupied by Quinn's birth parents. "Why does your dad want to talk to me?" he hissed.
"I don't know" Quinn shrugged. "I always surprised when he wants to talk to me, let alone anyone else. Hey," Quinn wrapped his arms around Flynn's neck and he kissed the other man. "It's alright. Think about how many people here love you, Mal. Everything is going to be fine."
Flynn licked his lips and then he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Quinn's. "I really love Christmas, you know...?"
Quinn chuckled. "I do. You have a Christmas elf inside you, fighting to get out and proclaim to the world that Santa rules. Your eyes sparkle whenever that ridiculous reindeer movie comes on. Which I think is every five minutes in December..."
"Rudolph had it hard, okay?!" Flynn laughed. "Quinny...thank you for letting me have Christmas with you every year."
"You're welcome, Bub, but it wouldn't be Christmas without you anyway." Quinn stood on his tiptoes to kiss Flynn's nose. "We've had three and we're going to have many, many more."
Flynn kissed Quinn's forehead and then his stomach growled. "Oof. I wants turkey. Bring me turkey?"
"Impatient elf," Quinn stuck his hand into Flynn's and then he led his boyfriend out of the room and into the entrance hall again. "Come on, you have to speak to my father first. Otherwise he might cause upsetting of the turkey-filled stomach."
"Oh shit," Flynn whispered, as Quinn dragged him into the living room. Immediately the two of them were surrounded by family oohing and awing over them and pinching cheeks. Dermot hung back and Flynn finally managed to gather his courage together to go speak to the man who had never liked him. The man who had once made it a necessity to hide his relationship with Quinn, so many years ago. He no longer felt hungry. His stomach knotted with apprehension and he was quite sure Dermot was going to come out with some horrible tidbit that would get him kicked out of here on Christmas. Maybe something that would make Bob and Maree hate him. Flynn couldn't lose them. They were his family. He didn't have his parents. He had come to need Quinn's.
"You...wanted to see me?" Flynn asked, wondering if his throat just might close up. He certainly sounded squeaky. Please don't know about the Templar I killed. Please.
"I did. How are you these days?" Dermot's expression gave nothing away, and that made Flynn even more nervous. He glanced over at Quinn who was watching while pretending not to watch. Flynn knew it well, and in his chest he felt slightly warmer for knowing his Quinn was looking out for him.
"I'm...fine." But not one for chit chat, really. "You?"
"Good, good. Whitehead hasn't changed much. Have you heard from your brother?"
Was that what this was about? The Quinns hated Frankie, as they should for what he had done to Quinn. He had left Quinn beaten and bleeding on three occasions now, and Flynn always felt like the Quinns blamed him for Frankie's actions. Even if he did a little too, it hurt that they did. "No. I don't want to speak to Frankie ever again," Flynn said truthfully.
Dermot nodded, his expression still unreadable. And then he said, "when are you going to marry my boy?"
Flynn was dumbfounded. He stared at Dermot for several seconds, looking very unintelligent, and then he realised his mouth was hanging open. When he closed it, he still wasn't quite sure where his tongue had gotten too. Then he remembered to breathe, and he gasped for air like a drowning man. "I...uhhhhhhhhhhh-"
Quinn, seeing Flynn's distress, came rushing to his lover's side. "What's up?" he asked, trying to keep the tone light. He put his hand on Flynn's arm and immediately Flynn calmed down.
"Your father just asked me when we were getting married," Flynn explained.
"Oh, I see." Quinn shrugged back at his father. "It'll happen some day. I'm studying and Mal has his band. We both have the shelter. There's no rush. But it will happen, Dermot."
"I'm just making sure this thing is going somewhere is all," Dermot said easily. He patted both their shoulders and strolled off to help Bob carve the turkey.
Flynn turned to face Quinn, looking puzzled. "He...wants this thing to go somewhere?"
"I guess he does," Quinn grinned. "He has a weird way of saying it, but I think my father showing his approval at all is something to be marvelled. I thought he would hang on to his prejudices forever."
Flynn reached out to run his fingers through Quinn's hair. "I thought he was going to somehow say something that might get me kicked out..."
"Oh fat chance!" Quinn shook his head. "Come on, Elf. It's turkey time."
Flynn grinned. His appetite had returned, and he would welcome turkey with gusto.
They had spent their Christmas afternoon as they always did, with Flynn playing songs at a Children's shelter and then giving out presents. This year they had a shelter of their own they handed out presents at as well, and by the time the arrived back at Bob and Maree's place, they were both exhausted and starving.
"Ah, the intrepid heroes are back from their day of heroing!" Eamon called to his parents. "And they look wrecked!"
"I had children hanging off me," Quinn said with a laugh as Flynn helped him pull his coat off. "Apparently they like me."
"It's because they mistake him for one of them," Flynn said with a wink.
"Oh hah hah, I have a baby face," Quinn stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend.
"Uh...if you two feel like having a play before dinner, at least do it in one of the guest rooms," Eamon laughed. "I'm going to go find my girlfriend. Oh and Q, Uncle Dermot keeps mentioning he wants to talk to Flynn."
Flynn's face paled and he glanced at Quinn in a panicky way as Eamon left them alone. Quickly, Flynn pulled Quinn into the guest room that wasn't being occupied by Quinn's birth parents. "Why does your dad want to talk to me?" he hissed.
"I don't know" Quinn shrugged. "I always surprised when he wants to talk to me, let alone anyone else. Hey," Quinn wrapped his arms around Flynn's neck and he kissed the other man. "It's alright. Think about how many people here love you, Mal. Everything is going to be fine."
Flynn licked his lips and then he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Quinn's. "I really love Christmas, you know...?"
Quinn chuckled. "I do. You have a Christmas elf inside you, fighting to get out and proclaim to the world that Santa rules. Your eyes sparkle whenever that ridiculous reindeer movie comes on. Which I think is every five minutes in December..."
"Rudolph had it hard, okay?!" Flynn laughed. "Quinny...thank you for letting me have Christmas with you every year."
"You're welcome, Bub, but it wouldn't be Christmas without you anyway." Quinn stood on his tiptoes to kiss Flynn's nose. "We've had three and we're going to have many, many more."
Flynn kissed Quinn's forehead and then his stomach growled. "Oof. I wants turkey. Bring me turkey?"
"Impatient elf," Quinn stuck his hand into Flynn's and then he led his boyfriend out of the room and into the entrance hall again. "Come on, you have to speak to my father first. Otherwise he might cause upsetting of the turkey-filled stomach."
"Oh shit," Flynn whispered, as Quinn dragged him into the living room. Immediately the two of them were surrounded by family oohing and awing over them and pinching cheeks. Dermot hung back and Flynn finally managed to gather his courage together to go speak to the man who had never liked him. The man who had once made it a necessity to hide his relationship with Quinn, so many years ago. He no longer felt hungry. His stomach knotted with apprehension and he was quite sure Dermot was going to come out with some horrible tidbit that would get him kicked out of here on Christmas. Maybe something that would make Bob and Maree hate him. Flynn couldn't lose them. They were his family. He didn't have his parents. He had come to need Quinn's.
"You...wanted to see me?" Flynn asked, wondering if his throat just might close up. He certainly sounded squeaky. Please don't know about the Templar I killed. Please.
"I did. How are you these days?" Dermot's expression gave nothing away, and that made Flynn even more nervous. He glanced over at Quinn who was watching while pretending not to watch. Flynn knew it well, and in his chest he felt slightly warmer for knowing his Quinn was looking out for him.
"I'm...fine." But not one for chit chat, really. "You?"
"Good, good. Whitehead hasn't changed much. Have you heard from your brother?"
Was that what this was about? The Quinns hated Frankie, as they should for what he had done to Quinn. He had left Quinn beaten and bleeding on three occasions now, and Flynn always felt like the Quinns blamed him for Frankie's actions. Even if he did a little too, it hurt that they did. "No. I don't want to speak to Frankie ever again," Flynn said truthfully.
Dermot nodded, his expression still unreadable. And then he said, "when are you going to marry my boy?"
Flynn was dumbfounded. He stared at Dermot for several seconds, looking very unintelligent, and then he realised his mouth was hanging open. When he closed it, he still wasn't quite sure where his tongue had gotten too. Then he remembered to breathe, and he gasped for air like a drowning man. "I...uhhhhhhhhhhh-"
Quinn, seeing Flynn's distress, came rushing to his lover's side. "What's up?" he asked, trying to keep the tone light. He put his hand on Flynn's arm and immediately Flynn calmed down.
"Your father just asked me when we were getting married," Flynn explained.
"Oh, I see." Quinn shrugged back at his father. "It'll happen some day. I'm studying and Mal has his band. We both have the shelter. There's no rush. But it will happen, Dermot."
"I'm just making sure this thing is going somewhere is all," Dermot said easily. He patted both their shoulders and strolled off to help Bob carve the turkey.
Flynn turned to face Quinn, looking puzzled. "He...wants this thing to go somewhere?"
"I guess he does," Quinn grinned. "He has a weird way of saying it, but I think my father showing his approval at all is something to be marvelled. I thought he would hang on to his prejudices forever."
Flynn reached out to run his fingers through Quinn's hair. "I thought he was going to somehow say something that might get me kicked out..."
"Oh fat chance!" Quinn shook his head. "Come on, Elf. It's turkey time."
Flynn grinned. His appetite had returned, and he would welcome turkey with gusto.