A/N: So… it’s been a while, yeah? Haha, I really have no explanations other than it’s been a hectic semester. You know, how schools have the terrible ‘Hell Weeks’… yeah, take that, and transform it into ‘Hell Month’.

Heads up, this is the longest update I’ve ever written. Eighteen pages, with over 8000 words, goodness. Although still not yet proofread because I’m lazy. I hope some of you don’t leave halfway through because of how long it is!

QUINNTESSENTIAL

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

On the day of Quinn’s birthday, Elliot woke up extra early. Usually when Quinn went out for his jogs at five in the morning, by the time he came back, Elliot was still in bed. But this time, the second Quinn closed the front door, Elliot pulled the covers off him and jumped out of his bed. He had no clue what to get Quinn for his birthday, so he decided a great breakfast would be it.

He got to the kitchen in a hurry, Chuck following excitedly behind him. Elliot took out the toast, the eggs, the sausages, and made sure to turn on all the right appliances. As he let his omelette sizzle in its pan, he proceeded to slice off the crust on Quinn’s slices of bread, tossing them over his shoulder for Chuck to gobble up.

When he was done preparing the food, Elliot faced his hardest task yet.

Five minutes later… he still hadn’t finished it.

“Come on, Chuck!” he yelled, frantically chasing after the dog around the apartment, looking ridiculous with a bright yellow birthday hat on his head. “It’ll just take a second to put yours on!”

Every time Elliot managed to latch onto the dog, Chuck found some way to wriggle out of his hold. In one final attempt, Elliot hid behind the couch and pounced on Chuck as he passed by, like the cheetahs on Animal Planet. “Aha!” he yelled, taking Chuck’s head under his arm.

He was still fixing the elastic around Chuck’s ears when they both heard the sound of a key being inserted at the door. Chuck’s attention was focused at the sudden sound, and Elliot took the brief second to snap the bright yellow birthday hat onto Chuck’s head, just before Quinn opened the door.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Elliot exclaimed, jumping to his feet and holding his arms out in the air. “We made you breakfast!”

Quinn closed the door behind him, his eyebrows rising as he took in the sight of his flat mate looking surprisingly awake at such an early time, and his dog, looking very unpleased with a tilting birthday hat on his ears. “You,” he paused as a very pleasant scent wafted from the kitchen. “You… didn’t have to.”

Elliot waved him off. “Whatever, come on! Eat! Before the food gets cold!” he said, motioning for the kitchen.

There wasn’t any pancake batter, so instead of a pancake, Elliot had used a slice of toast to make a square face. For eyes and the nose he used eggs, sunny-side up, and strips of bacon for the wide smile. Quinn looked down at it, the pleasantly surprised look on his face still there.

“Very few people get to taste my cooking,” Elliot smiled proudly, his chest in the air as he explained his creation. “I got the bacon yesterday, and Chuck helped by eating the crust you hate so much.”

Chuck gave a small bark in agreement, his tail wagging side to side as jumped up and set his front paws on a stool to get a better view.

Quinn glanced up at Elliot, and that’s when Elliot actually felt something in him stop working. It was a brief moment, barely a second or two, but for that second, Quinn had looked at him with no frustration, no annoyance, no irritation in his green eyes. There was small curve in Quinn’s lips, a small smile just for Elliot, but it was enough to make every part of his body feel just a bit warmer, enough to make that particular organ in his chest beat just a bit faster.

“… Thanks,” Quinn said, one hand stroking Chuck behind his ears as he quickly looked away. He casually peeled off his sweatshirt and rolled it up onto his lap before picking up his fork.

Before he could control himself, Elliot could already feel his face burning, the heat crawling up from his neck. He didn’t know why he was suddenly turning red. He would see Quinn without a shirt nearly every morning after his jogs and it’s not like he minded – sure, there was the small, tiny envy he had for Quinn’s fit physique, but then again, every guy who saw Quinn felt that way. No, Elliot was pretty sure this had to do more with… that strange, rare, unexpected smile.

Elliot quickly turned away and bent down to open the refrigerator door, cooling his face immediately. He then took out the bottle of milk and two glasses from a cupboard. He set the glasses on the counter and poured some milk into both of them.

He handed Quinn a glass, controlling his shaking hand, then took his own. “Well, you’re only twenty-three once, Quinn,” Elliot laughed nervously. “Happy birthday.”

Quinn nodded, and it unnerved Elliot even more that Quinn’s eyes had never left him the entire time.

A couple of minutes later, they were seated along the island counter, with their own plates of food. Chuck was sprawled on the tiles, willingly taking any scraps that were tossed his way.

Quinn was spreading butter over a slice of bread when he glanced at Elliot out of the corner of his eyes. “Do you do this often?”

“What?” Elliot asked, his mouth stuffed with eggs.

Quinn surveyed the area with his butter knife. “This… whole thing, making breakfast for people.”

Elliot paused, his fork in the air. “Um… no, not really,” he answered. Now that he thought about it, not including his parents, this was the first time he took some time to prepare breakfast for someone. He usually only made eggs, but he never really went beyond that. “You’re actually the first.”

“Hmm,” Quinn mused, as he set the knife down. “I guess I should consider myself special, then.”

Elliot closed his eyes and savored the taste of his great cooking. “Mhmm.”

Quinn took a bite out of his toast. It was a couple of minutes more until he spoke again, his low voice with a barely noticeable edge to it.

“Are you still waiting for an apology?”

Elliot stuffed some more eggs into his mouth. God, he was good at making them. “Hmm?” he asked, taking their bottle of ketchup.

“For the kiss.”

Elliot was twisting the cap off the ketchup bottle when it slipped from his hand and clattered onto the kitchen tiles. For a couple of seconds he just stared at Quinn until he casually motioned for the cap with his knife. Elliot then slowly bent down to pick it up, his mind looking back at the night when they were sprawled on those same tiles.

“The kiss?” Elliot repeated shakily, adding ketchup to his eggs while he could feel his entire body heating up once more. This wasn’t healthy behavior. He reached for his coffee and took a sip. “Oh, haha, that little thing? Don’t worry about it – “

“Here’s the thing,” Quinn lifted his mug and took a sip. Then he leant forward, so close that Elliot had to sit back, and he suddenly forgot how to swallow.

Then Quinn said his words in a slow, emphasized manner. “I am a sexually starved man, Elliot.”

The hot liquid travelling down Elliot’s throat suddenly found itself coming out of his nose, luckily no where near Quinn’s face. “What?” he said loudly, grabbing for a tissue and wincing at the heat.

“The fact of the matter is, whether gay or not, men are pigs,” Quinn deadpanned, and took another sip, handing Elliot another napkin. Solely focused on Elliot, Quinn continued. “There is never a time when we’re not ‘up to it’.”

Elliot coughed into the napkin. “Oh, w-wow,” he sputtered.

“And I haven’t gotten laid in over seven months.”

That was around the same time they started rooming together. Elliot nodded, not sure what to say, but pretending to sympathize. “Uhuh…”

“So understand, everyday, it’s taking a large amount of self-control not to drag you into a room and lock the door.”

Elliot could feel every bit of his face was on fire by then, from the tip of his nose to the tips of his ears. There was no way he could hide it, so he was pretty sure Quinn noticed it. Oh, how he hated Quinn and his impeccably dry humor.

But then again, what if part of that sentence was you know… true? Was there actually a bit of… you know, attraction Quinn felt for him? Elliot actually laughed out loud at the thought, garnering a raised eyebrow from Quinn. It was probably because for seven months, he was the closest male specimen in the vicinity. Sorta like how after a few good drinks, any girl could look like Monica Bellucci in Elliot’s eyes.

“Har, har, har,” Elliot laughed nervously, reaching over to give Quinn a light punch on the shoulder, and immediately retracted his hand when the unreadable look on Quinn’s face didn’t change. “Just because it’s your birthday, I’m going to laugh at that.”

Quinn took another sip of his coffee. “Well… sorry, then.”

Elliot lowered his eyes down to the counter. He just couldn’t concentrate anymore on his food – he was having a hard time controlling the thoughts that wondered what exactly Quinn would do to him if somehow, he was in a room with him with the door locked. He gulped, twisting the napkins on his lap. “So… uh, has your family called or something?”

Quinn nodded and poured himself more coffee. “They called earlier.”

“Earlier?” Elliot checked the clock. “It isn’t even seven yet! Is everyone in your family a morning person except you?”

“They think it’s two in the afternoon for me, right now.”

Elliot blinked. “What?”

Quinn sighed, and set his hands down on the counter. “As of now, I should be in Marseille. In two days, I should be at Nice.”

Recognizing those city names, Elliot’s jaw fell. “Wait, you should be in France right now? Why?”

Quinn rolled his eyes, obviously thinking it wasn’t important enough to explain. “I was supposed to take a year off before attending med school,” he said as he started to clean up. “I told my parents I’d spend it by backpacking across Europe. You know, living the cliché.”

“So why’d you get here?”

Quinn brought his plates and his glass to the sink. “I wanted to work for my aunt for a while.”

Elliot frowned. Maybe it was just him, but the last time he checked, people didn’t exactly work voluntarily. “Why?”

“More money to spend.”

Okay, so that made sense. “Ah… well, and then?”

Quinn turned the faucet and let the water run over his dishes. He turned his face slightly to the side. “Obviously, I’m still working for her now.”

Elliot paused. The information Quinn was sharing about himself was hard to process because Elliot hadn’t been ready for him to actually share it. It took a couple more seconds until he pieced the final part together.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Ignoring the comment, Elliot continued. “The owner, Mrs. Costello, she’s your aunt?!?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Quinn answered sarcastically.

“You never told me that!”

“I don’t tell you a lot of things.”

Elliot frowned, then crossed his arms in front of him. “And she hasn’t told your parents that you’re still here?”

“I asked her not to,” Quinn said, the irritated tone returning back to his voice. “I think I’m old enough to do what I want.”

“But, what about…” Elliot stopped, unable to come up with anything else to say. Why was Quinn still here when he could be traveling? If only Elliot had enough money after college, he would have done the same thing.

Elliot stood up and picked up his own plate and glass. He carried it over to the sink, where Quinn took it and started rinsing it along with his own. Elliot leaned against the counter beside him. “So why are you still here?”

Quinn was focused on his task, his eyes set on the sink. “I thought it would be obvious.”

Elliot glanced at him. “What?”

It took some time before Quinn answered. He set the dishes on the drying rack and dried his hands with the dishtowel. He was leaving the kitchen so Elliot could barely hear his answer.

“I… don’t know exactly.”

Elliot frowned in confusion, but decided to let him go.

At work that day, the whole thing with Quinn being the owner’s nephew was just a bit more obvious now that Quinn had told him. Mrs. Costello had given them all a half-day and let the other waiters take their shifts early. Later that evening, Quinn was in his room while Elliot answered the door. When he opened it, Allison was standing outside in a red strapless dress that hugged her figure perfectly. She had her hair tied back and she played with the ponytail as she casually stepped inside their apartment.

“Hey, you look pretty nice,” Elliot commented, closing the door behind her.

Allison turned around and set her hands on her hips. “Aww, you’re sweet, Elliot,” she said, pinching his cheek. “But why aren’t you dressed up?

“We’re going somewhere?” he asked, massaging his cheek. He plopped back down on the couch and gave Chuck a slight push so he could make some room for Allison.

“Yeah,” Allison answered, sitting down beside Chuck. She crossed her legs and leant back, one hand stroking Chuck’s fur. “We’re going to a club. Valerie and her boyfriend are already there – and I practically forced Quinn to come too. What about you?”

Elliot set the television on Discovery Channel and shook his head. “No thanks, clubs aren’t my thing.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “You are such a killjoy.”

“I am not – “

Quinn stepped out of his room, and both Elliot and Allison looked up as he closed the door. He was wearing dark jeans and a crisp white shirt that fit his body closely. He then slung a vest over his outfit to complete it. Elliot could never find any shirts like the ones Quinn somehow always had. The kind that fit his torso perfectly, the ones that outlined his broad shoulders and his V-shaped back… but of course, maybe it was also the lean figure that helped.

Allison gave out a high wolf whistle that made Quinn roll his eyes at her. “Are we going or what?” he asked, his irritated tone coming on.

“Yeah,” Allison whined, getting up from the couch. “Don’t pretend like you don’t want to go, you’re all dressed up and everything.”

He scowled at her, but he didn’t say anything.

Allison grinned mischievously as she walked over to him. “Are you wearing the underwear I gave you?” she asked, smacking his butt and making both Elliot and Quinn flush. “You might need it tonight!”

Quinn glared at her. “Please keep quiet or I’m really not going.”

“Alright then,” Allison conceded, brushing off Chuck’s fur from her dress. “Ready to go? But Elliot’s not going.”

“It’s just not my thing, sorry,” Elliot answered from his seat, shrugging apologetically. “I’ll stay here and answer the door for you.”

Allison pouted. “Come on – “

Quinn grabbed her arm and led her to the door. “Let’s go.”

Elliot followed them with his eyes and laughed. “You know what, you two actually look good together.”

Allison beamed as Quinn opened the door for both of them. “Hear that, Quinn? Now if only you could swing for the other team.”

Quinn didn’t say anything once again before slamming the door shut behind them.

Even though they were already outside, Elliot could still hear Allison’s triumphant shout. “Oh! You are wearing the underwear I gave – “

“I am not!”

Now that they were gone, Elliot decided it was time to finish those sample texts Charlotte wanted. He went to his room and took out his laptop, and set it down on the kitchen counter. After fixing a cup of coffee for himself, he finished over half of Charlotte’s samples until a small alert popped up from the corner of his screen to tell him he got a new message.

“Hmm,” he said, setting his mug down and clicking the link.

He was hoping it was from Kerry, with some news on how she was, and maybe some pictures of her new place. But instead, it was from Malcolm, with the troubling title of his message being ‘Good News and Bad News’. Elliot almost didn’t want to click it. What if they decided they needed to cut back? What if he lost his new job? From what Elliot learned during his part time jobs in college, you’re never really employed until you get that salary check in your hands.

Taking a deep breath, Elliot clicked on the link.

Hey Elliot,

I guess I’ve got some good news and bad news. The good news is that we’ve got a small flat ready for you. You’re sharing it with two other people, but at least there’s gonna be full internet connection, water, electricity, and some basic furniture ready. And they're pretty cool people, too.

The bad news is… it’s all the way back in Dallas.

Considering the whole… financial crisis and everything, we needed to reduce some costs. My… dad offered me a building back home, and as much as I don’t want to succumb to his donations… we can’t afford to take the risks in spending money we can save for the future.

The building and your flat needs to be occupied in three weeks, so you’ll need to settle all the things you have here in that span of time.

Looking forward to start working with you at Dallas,

Malcolm

Elliot leant back on his seat, his hand dropping to his side. Three weeks. He was leaving in three weeks. His thoughts raced with all the things he had to do. He needed to pack, he needed to call some moving company to help him, he needed to buy an airplane ticket, he needed to talk to his boss – Quinn’s aunt about leaving his job –

Oh, God, Quinn. He needed to tell Quinn.

Something in his stomach dropped at the thought. He got up from his seat and paced the living room. What was he gonna say? How was Quinn going to react?

… Why was he worrying about how Quinn would react? Ever since they started staying together, he was fully aware that Quinn thought of him as the occasional thorn on his side, an irritation, something to tolerate. Sure, there’d be the occasional laugh and smile – like the one in the morning – but those were rare.

“Shit,” Elliot muttered, ruffling his hair with his hands as he got up from the stool.

He fell back on the couch and remained on it for a couple more minutes until he heard soft padded footsteps stop beside him. Chuck then jumped onto the couch and joined him, snuggling up beside him and licking his face. Elliot sighed, his hands going up to hug Chuck. Oh, God, he’d have to leave Chuck.

“But I have to do this,” Elliot sighed.

It wasn’t like he would be a waiter for his entire life. He didn’t go through college just to end up like that. Quinn was going to leave eventually, too. It wasn’t like he went through all those years preparing for med school to only end up being a waiter. It just so happened that Elliot was going to be the first one to leave.

Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose, and all he wanted to do was fall asleep when he heard his phone ringing. Groaning, he reached for it in his pocket and answered it.

“Hello?” he grumbled, raising a hand over his eyes.

“Hey, Elliot?”

Elliot could barely hear Allison’s voice because of the thumping bass and music he could hear in the background. “Allison, you’re gonna have to speak up.”

“Elliot!” she yelled into the phone, probably cupping the speaker. “Could you come over at around one? To pick Quinn up? I’m riding back with Valerie.”

Elliot frowned. He suddenly remembered the night at the cabin, and Quinn’s lack of control when it came to alcohol. “Why?” he said louder, hoping she could hear him. “Has he gotten himself drunk again?”

“No, no!” she assured him. There was a pause as she took a sip of her drink. “He’s perfectly sober – I think – but in case he does, you know, get drunk again, I called you!”

Elliot sighed. If Quinn was gonna pass out, he doubted Allison would be able to carry him. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

He closed his phone and set it back in his pocket after checking the time. He still had an hour and a half to go before it was one. Maybe he could catch some sleep.

Elliot took a cab to get to the club. Before he left the flat, he decided that he would dress up a bit, because it wasn’t like he could just walk into the bar in the clothes he was wearing (his yellow boxers and a Cat in the Hat t-shirt). He changed his shirt, put on some jeans, and put on a simple jacket, and actually took some time to fix his hair from the disheveled state it usually was in.

The club reminded Elliot of his college years. It was large, with two floors with wide balconies and an elevated stage where the DJ would be or where a band would perform. The large dance floor took up the middle area of the club, with booths and tables set along the sides and upper floor for those who just wanted to sit down and have a drink.

He saw Valerie dancing with her boyfriend at the far right, looking like she was having a great time. Her hands were set over her boyfriend’s shoulders as they danced, both of them laughing and kissing as the music played. It was all really sweet, and Elliot wondered if the future engagement rumors Allison told him about were true.

It was a while before Elliot spotted Quinn over at the bar, leaning against the counter and cradling a drink. Elliot wasn’t at all surprised to see Quinn all alone in a crowded bar. But then a crowd blocking his view parted, and Elliot realized Quinn wasn’t actually alone. Sitting down on one of the stools beside him was a man, his arm slung over the counter, propping his head up as he talked to Quinn, a grin on his face. Elliot narrowed his eyes to see how many drinks Quinn had already had, but people kept blocking his view, and he swore to himself for forgetting to ask Allison to keep watch.

He told himself to shrug it off, and not to worry about Quinn since he was an adult (albeit it turns out, younger than him). Elliot turned away and started looking for Allison. It looked like Quinn and the young man were having a pretty decent conversation anyway – until the man decided to lift his arm up and rest his hand against Quinn’s waist. And Quinn just let it stay there.

Elliot didn’t know what came over himself, but suddenly he was heading for the other side of the room, toward Quinn. He cut between the group of gyrating bodies on the dance floor, stepping on a couple of toes along the way. In a matter of seconds he was standing in front of Quinn, before both of them could realize what he was doing and what was happening.

Quinn blinked as Elliot stopped in front of him, coming out of nowhere. “Elliot? What… are you doing here?” he asked, straightening himself slightly against the counter.

Totally ignoring the guy Quinn had been talking to, Elliot pointed a finger at the both of them. “Do you two know each other from before?” he asked, his tone surprisingly serious, only adding to the confusion both Quinn and the other man had on their faces.

Taking the raised eyebrows as a no, Elliot grabbed hold of Quinn’s clear drink and set it down on the counter, its contents swishing from side to side. “Hey, what – “ Quinn began in protest, but his mouth immediately shut as Elliot reached out and grabbed his arm, but losing aim and taking hold of his wrist instead.

In one swift motion, Elliot yanked Quinn away from the bar counter. While there was evident confusion on Quinn’s face, and a whole lot of questions he wanted to ask, there was something else too. Quinn didn’t look as mad as he should have, considering some random idiot like Elliot popped out of nowhere to literally pull him out of his conversation.

But since he wasn’t completely heartless, before dragging Quinn off, Elliot turned back to the young man he had been talking to. “Sorry,” he said, still holding onto Quinn’s wrist, and tugging him closer to make sure he wasn’t going to go anywhere. “My friend over here can’t control his alcohol, and I’m not just going to watch you take advantage of that to grab his wallet.”

The man’s eyebrows rose to his hairline as he sat up straight, but Elliot didn’t give him time to say anything. “Yeah, I was at the entrance,” he continued. “I saw what you were trying to do – “

Elliot was interrupted, not by the man, but by Quinn.

“Elliot. I don’t think he was trying to take my wallet.”

Elliot turned to look at him and blinked. What? It fricking looked liked it! He glanced between Quinn and the other man, and before he could say anything, the man turned toward Quinn, lifting a finger toward Elliot. “I’m sorry, but are you…?”

Instead of answering himself, Quinn merely glanced back at Elliot.

Elliot looked back at him with his own quizzical expression, and he was about to ask the guy to finish the question… until he realized what he meant… and what they had been doing before he barged in. Stiffly, Elliot held Quinn’s wrist with both hands, set it back to his side, and let go. He then reached over to the bar counter, got Quinn’s drink, and placed it back in his hand. Then he slowly set his hands on Quinn’s shoulders and maneuvered Quinn back to his spot by the bar before stepping back and facing the both of them.

“I am so, so, so, sorry,” Elliot said, his voice hoarse, and his face as red as the lights in the club. “I had no idea you guys were, you know, just… yeah, and Quinn has this history of not being able to control his alcohol, so I thought you were trying to mug him – but I guess not, because, yeah, I’m such an idiot and – uh, I’ll be going now.”

Before Elliot could hear Quinn telling him to wait a while, he turned around and made for the exit. On his way there, he spotted Allison leaving the dance floor and sliding into an empty booth. Hoping he was out of Quinn’s sight, he ducked behind a crowd of people as he made his way for Allison’s booth. The second he got there, he plopped onto the leather seats and pressed his face against the table.

“I am a moron, moron, moron, moron.”

Allison glanced at him, and since she was so used to him, she wasn’t even surprised to see him there and acting that way. “So, what happened on the way here?” she asked, simply taking a sip of her martini.

Elliot took his time in answering. “Quinn was talking to this guy,” he said, his face still against the table. “I thought the guy was gonna mug him, so I ran over there, grabbed Quinn, and started dragging him away.”

Allison set her glass down on the table. “You didn’t,” she said, disbelief in her voice.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Elliot, they were just flirting!”

“Yeah, I kind of know that now,” he said flatly, his shoulders deflating even more. “I am a moron, moron, moron.”

Allison sighed, shaking her head at Elliot. “So much for ruining the second half of my gift to him.”

That got Elliot to tilt his head to the side so he could look at her. “Sorry, what did you say?” he asked, knitting his eyebrows together. “You set them up?”

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging and pulling her drink back to her. “Everyone knows Quinn’s getting little to no attention around here.”

“So they were on a date,” Elliot groaned, pressing his forehead back on the table. “That’s the second time I’ve ruined it for him – “

“Do you want to go?”

Elliot froze, stiffened, and cringed at the sound of Quinn’s voice above him. He sneaked a glance up at him. “Um,” Elliot began, clearing his throat and shrinking even more in his seat. “You can stay a little longer. I mean, I can wait a bit if you like.”

Quinn rolled his eyes at him. “I want to go home now. If you don’t, I’m leaving you.”

Allison frowned. “Aww, what happened to Greg? You guys looked like you were hitting it off!”

“Well, after he found out I didn’t bring any credit cards, he decided I wasn't worth it.”

Elliot flushed as Quinn looked away. “Truthfully, we didn’t share the same interests.”

The look on Allison’s face made it clear that she didn’t exactly believe him. It only took her one glance at Elliot, followed by a roll of her eyes, before she shook her head. “Whatever, you guys can go,” she muttered. “Happy Birthday again, Quinn.”

Quinn turned to Elliot. “So, are we going or not? Isn’t that why you were dragging me off a while ago?”

If he wasn’t wallowing in a puddle of embarrassment, Elliot would have been able to think of some lame comeback. Yes, a lame comeback, but a comeback nonetheless.

“Err, okay.”

Elliot raced out of the club and immediately started hailing for a cab, waving his arms in the air and swearing everytime one would pass by with someone already in it. He didn’t bother to turn back when Quinn stepped out of the club, taking his time as he set his hands in his pockets and followed Elliot to the sidewalk. He was only a foot away from Elliot when an empty cab was finally heading their way. The second it stopped in front of them, Elliot yanked the door open and jumped inside, making Quinn sigh as he followed him in.

The cab ride back home was awkward, with both of them sitting at opposite corners of the seat, looking out their own respective windows. Elliot was fidgeting the entire time, unable to keep still for more than three seconds. He cast his eyes down to the floor, then to the empty expanse of leather seat between them, and how light would flash and fade away as they passed the streetlights.

Elliot cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for that.”

Quinn was resting his head against the tall seat. “For what?” he asked. His voice was its natural low, Kerry once calling it his ‘take-me-to-the-fucking-bedroom’ voice.

Maybe it was because they were in such a small area together, but the sound of Quinn’s voice was unexplainably making Elliot nervous, to the point he wished he could stop the cab and tell him he’d walk to the apartment from there. It didn’t help his situation when he remembered what Quinn had said in the morning, in that similar voice…

“…drag you into a room and lock the door.”

The doors were locked and there was a tinted glass separating them from the driver. Fuck, Elliot thought, unable to pull his thoughts back to properly answer Quinn, who had been watching him the entire time, waiting for his answer.

“For a while… ago,” Elliot finally stammered, closing his fists. “Interrupting you guys.”

Quinn let out a small sigh, and from the corner of Elliot’s eye, he could see him run a hand through his hair. “Why’d that happen anyway?”

Elliot could feel the weight of Quinn’s eyes on him, daring him to turn and face him. No way in hell he was going to do that.

“I… don’t know actually,” Elliot laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know, I wasn’t even thinking? A part of me just… launched for… for you.”

Elliot could literally feel the pressure easing off him when Quinn turned away. “I see.”

He cleared his throat nervously. “So… I have a question for you now, Quinn,” he said, hoping to stir the conversation away from the awkwardness.

“Hmm?”

Elliot sat up straight and scratched the back of his neck. “You’re not exactly the friendliest guy on the planet…” he paused and glanced at Quinn, who was still looking out the window. “But with other people, you’re actually kinda… sociable? Well, except with me.”

Elliot could hear Quinn shift in his place, the dark denim of his jeans rubbing over the leather seat. “So yeah,” Elliot mused, clearing his throat again. “Just something I noticed.”

Quinn turned his head to glance at Elliot. “And so?”

Elliot didn’t know exactly. It most likely had to do with the fact he was leaving in three weeks. You know, getting all those things out while you can. Instead of answering Quinn, he just shrugged.

As the cab pulled into traffic, Elliot sighed and leaned back in his seat. He checked his watch. Quarter to two in the morning. God, he should have been asleep hours ago. He could have avoided everything if he had already been in bed. He let out a small yawn, and even though he had meant to close his eyes for only a couple of seconds, he jolted awake at the sound of Quinn’s voice suddenly so close to him.

“You or me?”

Elliot spun around at Quinn’s voice. “Y-you and me what?” he asked, unable to control the small panic in his voice when he noticed how close Quinn was sitting next to him all of a sudden.

Quinn raised an eyebrow at him, his wallet in his hands. “Who’s paying? You or me?”

“O-oh,” Elliot said, realization sinking in. Quinn had moved to the middle seat to pay the driver. Elliot awkwardly reached for his pocket and took out his wallet, fumbling with the right number of bills. “S-sorry, I am, I called it.”

Quinn watched him with an almost amused smirk on his face, and opened the door when Elliot got his change. Elliot followed after him, stuffing the coins into his pocket and swearing to himself. The walk to their flat wasn’t any different, just the same amount of awkward silence and unclear emotions, and by the time Elliot closed the door and tossed the keys to the counter, Quinn had turned around and stopped him from getting anywhere else.

“So I’m really curious about why you pulled that act in the bar,” he began, his arms fixed over his chest. He said the sentence almost in a rush, like he had been waiting for a long time to say it.

Elliot looked away, feeling completely cornered. “I… don’t know,” he said, hoping Chuck would somehow waltz in the room to be some distraction. “Can we not talk about it?”

Quinn tilted his head to the side. “You constantly badger me about things I don’t want to talk about… yet when I do it to you – “

“I act like you,” Elliot finished for him, trying his best to side step away from Quinn. “So I guess you’re familiar with how everything goes.”

Yet Quinn followed him, a daring smile set on his face as he stepped even closer, not letting Elliot go. He was so close, Elliot could already smell his cool cologne... and the lavender lotion he had given him. “Yes, but I do occasionally answer,” Quinn continued, and Elliot was having a hard time concentrating.

“Okay, please, stop!” Elliot yelped, resting his hands on Quinn’s shoulders and distancing Quinn an exact arm’s length away from him. “I cannot think properly if you keep doing… this!”

“And what is that exactly?” Quinn asked, and Elliot wasn’t sure if he was intentionally using the power of his mysterious, ‘take-me-to-the-fucking-bedroom’ voice of his to get him nervous and fidgety.

“This!” Elliot explained, frantically motioning at the both of them. “You get near me, then you start talking!”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “… Isn’t that a normal thing to do? You know, for humans?”

Elliot glared at him. “Yeah, but when you do it, I can’t think straight anymore!” he blurted out.

All playfulness in Quinn’s posture and voice disappeared by the time Elliot finished his sentence. By the time the last word came out of his mouth, Elliot was pretty sure he was going to melt at how hot his entire body was. He was pretty sure they were both too stunned to do anything, that if he finally walked away, Quinn would let him. But even so, Elliot’s entire body wouldn’t budge, keeping him where he was.

“S-so,” Elliot stammered, trying to give a small, weak laugh. “Try to stop, okay? I don’t think I can handle it if you – “

For what seemed like forever, there was undeniable surprise in Quinn’s eyes, and it looked like he was processing Elliot’s words, taking the sentence apart and analyzing each word. But when it looked like he was done and fixed on an answer, it seemed like there was a flash in his green eyes and the energy Quinn was giving off changed instantly. Then, clearly going against his wishes, Quinn only stepped closer, to the point Elliot was fully pressed back against the wall.

Elliot cast his eyes down, up, anywhere but at those green eyes he could feel were waiting to be connected with, waiting for a reaction. “I… I thought I told you to stop going near me,” he said, in a lame attempt to fill the silence.

It was a while before Quinn answered, and Elliot could feel Quinn’s warm breath brush against his ear when he finally did.

“I wasn’t talking.”

Elliot looked up at that, and no matter how hard he tried, his eyes found their way toward Quinn’s. Except for their shaky breathing, the entire flat was silent, the air tense and heavy as one waited for the other to do something. Do what? What would happen after? What would it lead to? What –

Elliot didn’t know who moved first, but he was pretty sure he did when he felt the soft, foreign material of Quinn’s shirt bunched up under his fingers… and Quinn’s lips pressed against his own. It felt awkward at first, strange, and he almost wanted to push away because it was all a huge mistake that he should have never started – until he felt Quinn take his bottom lip between his teeth, then slowly run the tip of his tongue over the worried flesh as he hungrily kissed back. Unexplainable warmth bloomed in Elliot’s stomach, and every brief contact of skin he felt when Quinn’s hands hesitantly set themselves beneath his arms was enough to make his own feel as if they were on fire. A small gasp filled the room, and he wasn’t sure who did it, Quinn, him, most probably Quinn – but it was quickly swallowed as Quinn parted his lips, tilting his head ever so slightly. Quinn’s hand fixed itself behind Elliot’s neck, the other twining its fingers in his hair as the kiss deepened, tongues slowly finding themselves in each other’s mouth.

There was the light sound of shuffled footsteps as Elliot stepped away from the wall and as Quinn pulled him along, keeping him close. They didn’t break from each other the entire time, and there was a feeling that both of them didn’t exactly know what was going on, but that it was something they didn’t exactly want to stop either – What would it be like without these shirts on? Was Quinn really wearing Allison’s underwear? – until the back of Quinn’s knees unexpectedly caught the couch’s armrest and they both jerked to a stop.

They both opened their eyes at the same time and they found themselves looking into each other’s eyes again, and the sight made Elliot jump back, his entire mind lagging behind, still at the point where he had Quinn’s bottom lip set between his teeth. “Oh, God,” he breathed, one hand going up to cup his hot face, his mind running on overdrive.

Meanwhile, Quinn was leaning against the couch’s arm rest, wishing that he had rearranged the furniture earlier in the day. One hand lifted up to his face, touching his kiss-bruised lips and feeling the warm tingle on the sensitive, red flesh. His eyes rose up to trail over Elliot’s very red, very shocked face.

“I could say that I’m drunk out of my mind and that I’d probably forget that happened by the morning,” Quinn said, his voice husky. “… But then I’d be lying.”

Elliot’s eyes widened. “So you’re perfectly sober.”

Quinn shrugged. “I guess.”

“But you were having a drink at the bar – “

“It was called… water.”

Elliot’s mouth clamped shut, at a complete loss for words. “Oh my God.”

Quinn crossed his arms and smoothly pushed himself off the couch’s arm rest. “So, let me get this straight. You did that, kiss me, under the notion that I’m drunk and probably not going to remember it the next day?” he asked, stepping forward as he followed Elliot’s steps back.

Elliot furiously shook his head. “I, n-no, I wasn’t thinking – “

Quinn gave him a smug smile. “Sounds like you’re the one taking advantage of my ‘drunken’ state.”

Elliot just knew Quinn was going to bring that up. He knew it. Only Quinn would be able to add a wisecrack in the middle of a tense situation. Elliot tried to muster up a decent glare, but he just couldn’t. He felt completely drained and at the same time strangely wound up, but most of all, he wanted to find a way to escape the look Quinn was giving him. The look that clearly said, do it again. And he knew what he meant by ‘it’. Elliot wasn’t sure what exactly things would lead to if he did… and oh yeah, to top it all off, nothing was making sense in his head.

“Hey, listen, I – uh, I’m gonna take Chuck for walk,” Elliot stammered, bending down and grabbing Chuck’s leash from the coffee table. “I mean, uh, out for a walk, because yeah, that’s sounds right – walk, you know, walking.”

Quinn watched Elliot frantically moving around the room. “At two in the morning?” he asked.

“Uh, y-yeah,” Elliot said, like it was perfectly normal to go out on a walk at that time. “Hello, it’s just a w-walk, I mean, everybody does it – CHUCK!!! COME HERE, BOY!”

It took a while for the German Shepherd to emerge from Elliot’s bedroom. When Chuck finally arrived, his tail was lagging behind him, and he was tripping over his own paws due to how sleepy he was. Despite the fact Chuck was too sleepy to move, it still took Elliot around three to four tries to hook the leash onto his collar, the entire time keeping his head ducked down from Quinn’s view. By the time he looked up, Quinn was crouching in front of him, his hands resting neatly on his knees. “So, do I stay up to answer the door for you later?” he asked, his voice surprisingly calm… and cheery?

“No,” Elliot said, unable to swallow. “I’ll open it myself. G-go to sleep.”

Quinn stood up. “Suit yourself.”

“Yeah, I know,” Elliot shot back, even though he wasn’t exactly sure if it was meant to be a comeback or not.

In his mind, Elliot declared the night as a total, unexplainable disaster… but as he was racing out of the room, he was pretty sure he saw a hint of a smile on Quinn’s face.

A/N: My updates have got to be shorter next time. This was draining!
Thanks a bunch for all the reviews, you guys! :D
Please leave a comment!

To the milk bottle,

My brain is a now a yummy puddle of Gouda.

Your calcium deficient friend,

Your name

Oh yeah, if anyone's from Brazil/can speak Brazilian Portuguese and is willing to help translate stuff for another story, please send me a message or tell me through your comment! :D