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He hadn’t expected the call. Ever since he’d come to terms with his sexual orientation, Quinn had accepted that February 14th was only going to be special in that it would be suicide to think of going out for dinner.
Of course, going out wasn’t what Eliot was proposing. “My place, all your favorites – and I just got a Blu Ray of Silverado.” After stammering out his acceptance, Quinn had racked his brain trying to come up with something to contribute to the evening that wouldn’t offend Eliot’s culinary snobbery. He finally decided to stop at a street-corner florist on his way to the apartment – a man trying to make some extra money off the absent-minded panic of 50% of the world’s population.
“Good choice, my man,” the vendor said as Quinn picked the one ridiculously large bouquet of roses left in the gathering of mostly empty buckets. “Your lady’ll forgive just about anything for a gift like that.”
Grinning, Quinn handed over payment for the flowers. “If you’re gonna go, go big.”
Ten minutes later he was knocking on Eliot’s door, face mostly hidden by the impossibly over-the-top bouquet. He heard the door open. “Hey – glad you…” And then Eliot was laughing – the kind of uncontrolled, full-bodied laugh Quinn had never thought to hear from his fellow hitter. After another beat, he peered around the arrangement. Eliot was hanging onto the door in a desperate attempt to keep on his feet while he tried to stop laughing.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” he announced. Their eyes met, and Eliot managed to pull himself upright again.
“This is epic,” he managed, still grinning like a maniac. “Get in here, you!”
Getting the massive display through the door was more difficult than Quinn had expected – he was half-blinded by leaves and petals when Eliot reached for him – dragging him into a tight embrace. “You’re amazing,” Eliot murmured, burying his face in the curve of Quinn’s neck. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, believe me,” Quinn replied.
It took a stupid amount of time to get the flowers sorted, but Eliot was finally able to bundle them off to the kitchen – leaving Quinn to appreciate the artfully lowered lighting, the perfectly set table, and the music overlaying it all. He did this – all this – for you. His heart actually ached with how perfect it all was.
“Are you ready for me to put the steaks over?” Eliot asked, appearing the kitchen doorway. He caught sight of Quinn’s expression and smiled. “You’re not the only one that can do cliché, you know.”
“It’s amazing,” Quinn said. “I didn’t…I didn’t expect…”
That drew Eliot out further into the room. “Didn’t expect what? It is Valentine’s Day – who else exactly am I supposed to be with?”
Damn, Quinn thought, his vision briefly blurring with tears. He’s better at this than I am. Ever since coming to grips with his asexuality, Quinn had conditioned himself to think of Valentine’s Day as a holiday not meant for people like him. He had legitimately expected Eliot to spend the day with one of his other partners – one where he would have a chance of things ending in a more traditional fashion.
“Confusing sex and love again are we?” Eliot asked, moving closer.
Surprised into a laugh, Quinn nodded. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t – you’ve been amazing – and I keep finding myself back there, expecting…” He made a vague gesture, unable to come up with words adequate to what he was feeling. Eliot caught his hand and pulled him in close.
“Will you please try to relax?” he asked, meeting Quinn’s eyes. “This is not some kind of pity date – I am exactly where I want to be.”
Quinn ducked his head, kissing Eliot as thoroughly as he could manage – wrapping his arms around Eliot as the other man relaxed into his embrace. Several minutes passed with them lost in the feel of each other, before Eliot finally took a step back. “Okay – I was going to wait until after dinner, but your present is on the table and I think I want to watch you open it now.”
Curious in spite of himself, Quinn went to the table where a small red box sat – topped by a simple red bow. Glancing back at Eliot, who had only moved a few steps closer, he picked it up and opened it.
A set of keys and a security pass card were nestled in a bed of cotton batting. Oh God. Heart pounding a heavy counterpoint to the buzzing of his nerves, Quinn looked up at Eliot. “I don’t understand.”
Eliot raised an eyebrow at that, a barely concealed smile now hovering about his lips that Quinn desperately wanted to kiss into full blown life. Unfortunately there was still the matter of the keys in his hand and what they could mean – and oh God, what if it didn’t mean what he wanted it to mean? “Okay, I’m pretty sure I understand what you’re saying,” he admitted finally, once it was obvious Eliot wasn’t going to bail him out of this one. “I’m just suddenly terrified that I might be wrong.”
Slowly, deliberately, Eliot crossed the distance separating them and covered Quinn’s hands with his own. “You’re not wrong. Still really clueless about how perfect you are – but you’re not wrong. I don’t want you to go home tonight.” Leaning in, he kissed Quinn lightly on the lips. “I don’t want you to have any other home but this one.” Another kiss, this one softer and longer. “I want you in my life, and I want to grow old in your arms.” He reached up to brush a few errant strands of Quinn’s hair back from his face, and Quinn shivered at the feather-light touch.
“This is working,” Eliot continued, looking so deeply into Quinn’s eyes now he felt as though his soul had been stripped bare. “I don’t know if you see it too, or if you’re too busy trying to convince yourself that you can’t have what you want, but from where I sit it’s working very well. I don’t want to lose that because we don’t fit somebody else’s idea of the way this kind of thing is supposed to be.”
Fumbling the box back on the table, Quinn embraced Eliot. “Yes,” he whispered, letting his entire world narrow to the feel of the man in his arms. “Yes, yes, yes. Oh God, yes.”
Eliot’s arms tightened briefly on him as he put his mouth next to Quinn’s ear. “And if you dare ask me if I’m sure, I will put those steaks back in the fridge and make you regret every single word.”
Quinn laughed, pulling back from the embrace. “Suddenly feeling very hungry,” he said. After a beat, he let his expression sober again. “I love you, Eliot Spencer.”
He’d already suspected he’d gotten as much schmoop as he was going to get from his partner, but Eliot’s response to Quinn’s declaration confirmed it.
“I know.”