Full Name: Jonathan “John” Bernstein
Age: thirty-seven
Birthday: August 9th, 1983
Zodiac: Leo Sun, Leo Moon, Virgo Rising
Occupation: Gallery Manager and Curator at the Crescent Harbor Art Gallery
Length of Time in Crescent Harbor: seven years
Neighborhood: Goldfinch Valley [view his apartment]
Hometown: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Nationality: Canadian
Sexuality: Pansexual
Relationship Status: in a relationship with @quinn-hawthorne
Qualities: creative, nurturing, open-minded, loyal, driven, kind
Flaws: pretentious, impatient, compulsive, nervous, stubborn, proud
MBTI: INFJ-T “The Turbulent Advocate”
Moral Alignment: Neutral Good
Enneagram: Type 6 “The Loyalist”
THE FAMILY SITUATION
tw: foster care, adoption
John spent his childhood growing up in the foster care system, going from home to home until he was six years old. He doesn’t know his biological parents but is very close to his adoptive parents, which is why he usually refers to the Mannings as his mother and father, despite not being related by blood. The family fostered other kids as well, so there was always someone around. They had two biological children as well, who John also considers his siblings. His youngest adoptive sibling, Rose Paisi (@rosalindpaisi), recently moved to Crescent Harbor which he is incredibly excited about as they are very close.
THE LOOKS
Faceclaim: Dan Levy
Height: 5'11’’
Hair Color/Length: black and short, usually neatly coiffed, curly if without product (aka never, unless you live with him or catch him off-guard)
Facial Hair: John usually doesn’t go for a clean shave ever. He’s always sporting some stubble.
Eyes: brown
Complexion: clear, warm undertones
Body: Average/Athletic. John enjoys excerise a lot but also likes to indulge in foods that aren’t considered good. Whether he’s keeping up with yoga, running or some light lifting, there’s rarely a day where he doesn’t add some kind of activity to his agenda, mostly to make sure he’s training his mobility. His frequent walks with his dog will also do the trick.
Style: John is very interested in fashion and not at all scared to add some more unique styles to his wardrobe. More often than not, he sticks to a rather casual yet formal style, mostly due to his job but also because he likes to dress well and feel good about the way he looks. He’s usually sticking to high quality, if not designer, sweaters or dress shirts with a nice pair of pants but will also wear a good pair of denim jeans and a t-shirt occasionally. He also loves a good print. The man always looks very put together. You can find some outfits here.
Smells Like: Considering his habit of going for runs in the mornings, John usually never leaves the house for meetings or errands unless he’s freshly showered. He hates nothing more than being smelly or dirty even, so he tends to smell fresh with a hint of cologne.
THE STORY
tw: foster care, motorcycle accident, injuries
Jonathan “John” Bernstein grew up in the foster care system and moved into a foster home in Toronto when he was already six years old but it was there where he finally got to experience what being a family was all about
He never met his biological parents and isn’t sure whether or not he’d like to some day. He’s in the process of trying to figure out how to go about looking for them, just to know but without success so far. He hasn’t told anyone about thsi and thinks it’s better to keep it close to his chest for now.
John is a very kind and very passionate person. If he’s excited over something, you’ll know! He doesn’t only get excited about things directly tied to himself though but about other people’s interests and successes, too.
The people around him either love him or hate him for it because he will go on and on and never stop until you tell him to. He always likes to indulge in rather intense conversations as it is and will go out of his way to help anyone with patience and kindness if they have any problem at all.
His intensity paired with his overall level-headedness is very useful when it comes to his profession though because he’s a natural at being a salesman who is always eager to network which makes renting and buying art for the gallery to help it extend and thrive an easy task (if you ignore the amount of overtime he collected over the past few years).
So basically, he’s a big softy who loves art in all shapes and forms and will go on about it to anyone for hours if they let him or dare to step into the gallery.
He moved out to Vancouver right after high school to go to university. He majored in visual arts.
When he was 24, John was involved in a crash with his motorcycle that left him severely injured and in a coma.
He made it through but the accident threw him into a spin and basically had him starting at zero. The healing process took a whole year because of complicated fractures and nerve injuries that he needed a lot of physical therapy and rest for - which only made John realized that he is not as good at taking care of himself as he thought he was up until then.
Jonathan feels incredibly fortunate to have survived the crash, despite the fact that it left him with some issues to this day. On his worse days, he’ll have a slight limp due to a hurt nerve in his leg and a pelvic fracture. He also suffered a minor motor nerve damage in his wrist which makes it hard for him to create art himself or do basic tasks, really. It keeps him from being able to lift heavy items or do other basic tasks due to the lack of strength and control. He learned to live with these remaining injuries and doesn’t really let them stop him, unless he pushes himself too hard and has to give in. He was also left with quite a few scars scattered across his body but considers them a small price he had to pay if it meant he still got to come out of it alive.
He loves to travel and did quite a lot of it after his recovery and before settling in Crescent Harbor where he’s been living for the past seven years.
John traveled to and worked in Tokyo and London the most and got a lot of his experience when it comes to galleries from his time there.
These days he’s gotten too busy and caught up in his work to even think of taking a vacation which is bad but the workaholic in him would say otherwise. Maybe it’s that or his inability to give up control - the man just needs to relax!
Despite growing up and becoming a lot more confident as he got older, John is still very soft-spoken at times but always polite and definitely happy to talk to anyone. He doesn’t like to be the center of attention and tries to stay in the background more, even though he’s not as shy as he used to be.
Overall, he’s a very friendly guy and tries to help anyone who might have a problem but don’t make him mad - the switch flips slowly but surely.
When you are in his circle though, he’ll do anything for you. He made quite a few friends in his years of living in Crescent Harbor due to that but his best friend and confidante is Diana Blackwood-Amari (@diana-amari).
Right now, he’s busy house hunting with his partner Quinn Hawthorne (@quinn-hawthorne), while also trying to navigate the ups and downs that come with being in a long-term relationship after having stuck to his own company for longer than he’d care to admit. Lets just say, communication is not their strong suit but they’re learning.
To sum it up: he’s soft, warm and friendly, very interested in art in any shape or form and just wants to be your friend if you let him! Just don’t disrespect him and you’re golden! Otherwise, you might get a pretty intimidating side-eye and a snarky comment or two.
Also, he would die for his dog, a Dachshund-Corgi mix named Merlot, and so would I tbh.
Find John’s wanted connections here, his full stats here, some musings here and his full bio here. 💕
When: Right after Leslie ended their engagement at Quinn’s work (i’m sorry this is… literally a month and a half late everyone shut up)
@johnbernsteinx
We need to talk tonight.
The text was vague, and it sounded too heavy. He’d sent it while he was still on site, and the rest of the day was spent buzzing on anger and anxiety. The talk with Leslie was enough to have set him on edge, but knowing that he needed to tell John what was going on had only sent him further down that path. His drive home was spent with one cigarette after another, finishing the last one out in the parking lot, trying to find the fucking nerve to talk to John. They’d fought too much too recently, he didn’t want this to spark another. And he knew it would. He’d almost regretted texting him, bringing this up, and sparking any kind of concern or issue. They’d made up, they’d found peace through whatever this whole thing was. It still wasn’t perfect, but they were getting there. And this was another roadblock to that. But, they needed to talk. Quinn needed to be the one to tell John everything.
He finally made his way up to the apartment, dragging feet until he reached the door, and stepped into the apartment. “Hey,” he said, his eyes seeking out John. His greeting was short, a kind of greeting he gave when he knew he was in trouble. All the air and warmth sucked out of him. When they landed on him, Quinn was already exhausted. From the day, from Leslie, from what was to come, from himself. He hardly had the door closed behind him before he spoke up again. “So, I need to tell you something, and I know this isn’t going to turn into a great conversation, but can you just let me tell you, start to finish, first?” He let out a heavy sigh, holding John’s gaze. “Please. I don’t want this to be a fight.”
.
A text like the one John had received that day truly wasn’t one you wanted to see from your partner – especially not when you were in the process of buying a house and a future together. Even more so when you’d been under the impression that everything had been fine between the two of you and yet, it left John with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had no idea what this was about – or could be about but the lack of reassurance, the lack of any kind of emojis or anything really to suggest what was going on left John clueless so he texted back a quick ‘okay.’, not sure what else to say. His own nerves were quick to act up, his mind drifting to all the things that could’ve lead up to it but John came back empty. Had he done something wrong? Had he forgotten something he shouldn’t have? This was going to be a long day, he could tell already and dreaded it – all while hoping he was just reading too much into this.
John had already been home, sitting on the couch but instead of lounging, he felt tense. He was sure the dogs had picked up on it, considering how they stayed close and alert and when they heard Quinn’s key turn, they were quick to make their way over. “Hi,” he greeted him back, a puzzled look on his features when he took in the other man. He looked tired and run down, the smell of smoke filling the air and that nagging, uneasy tug in his stomach only seemed to spread. God, his words only made it worse. Every single one of them was too vague and yet hitting too hard. “I mean, I can’t make any promises because I have literally no idea where this is coming from or what I did or why you’re acting like this but sure – go ahead,” John said, gesturing into the space in front of him as if to let him take the stage. “I’m listening.”
“Yes,” Skylar said in a matter of fact tone, though it wasn’t matter of fact. Just simple and punctuated. “It is one of those injuries that looks a lot worse than it actually is.” She had certainly dealt with her fair share, a sprain sometimes hurting more than a broken bone. Playing it calm, cool, collected, as if nothing affected her, despite the not so subtle signs. The bruising, her wrist looking deformed, and sharp jolts of pain shooting up her arm. She could only try to hide one of those things, even if she felt like screaming about it until she lost her voice. But maintaining composure, even in extraordinarily difficult times, was important. One of the few things she had instilled in herself. “The last time I got in a car was for Sanem and Alli and that was with a buttload of anti-anxiety medicine. Before that, I don’t even remember the last time I did,” she grumbled out, heartbeats spiking just at the idea of getting into one. Swallowing thickly as she put the bag of crushed ice on her wrist, she tried moving her index finger to no avail. Nothing to freak out over, she insisted on telling herself, the injury was fresh so that was perfectly normal. Except it was not normal. “I’ll humour you just this once,” Skylar began, suppressing the groan inside her throat, “but John I’m telling you… the X-ray will reveal that this is a clean break and I’ll just need to wear a cast for… six weeks, give or take,” she said with a half-shrug, “Can we just… not walk to the hospital? Find a fucking horse carriage in this Godforesaken town? It’s not that far…”
John’s brow immediately shot up at her reply and he couldn’t help the humorless snort that escaped him. He’d been there – of course he had. Telling himself that he didn’t need to go see a doctor. That a little rest would do wonders but he knew for a fact that a fracture, especially in that spot, would not just go away. A part of him tried to remind him that Skylar was a grown woman and she could definitely make that decision for herself but she was his friend and he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to interfere. His eyes scanned the injury once more and god, it looked even worse up-close. He let out a shaky breath as he tried to figure out the next steps. He wasn’t even sure how she was able to just sit there right now, without writhing in pain. Her words however, stopped him in his tracks – the car – of course. His brows furrowed and he exhaled a deep breath, eyes trailing back to her hand. “Oh, by all means – that one time will do and I promise to shut up about it forever,” he vowed, aware that his nagging could be a little much at times but his own experience had left him scarred in every sense of the word, his top priority being that she’d not be left with anything long-term. “And that is the best-case scenario right now – a clean break and a cast. That’s not nothing,” he huffed, gathering his belongings and grabbing his coat. “It’s pretty far…,” John countered in defeat, his words merely a mumble as he reached up to rub at his temple. “I’m not forcing you, obviously. I can’t make you get in the car and I won’t but I can promise that I’d drive very, very slowly?” He offered, pulling a face at his own words before looking around a little helplessly. He understood where she was coming from. While he’d slowly but surely managed to drive again, he hadn’t even touched a motorcycle since. “I just don’t want that clean break to turn into something else for you,” John added, waiting for her reaction. “It’s completely up to you but if we walk, we sprint,” he warned jokingly, trying to bring back some lightness and yet, a part of it was probably just to cover up the fact that he was starting to freak out a little as more time passed.
She let out a laugh at his questioning. The other three people involved didn’t think it was funny because they were refusing to look at it objectively, which she could. Objectively, the joke was fucking hilarious, and it was a little offensive that no one else agreed. “It was just a joke,” she assured, waving her hand between them as if she could simply, and physically, shoo away his concerns. “Relax.”
She went back to making noise with her bottle as he continued on, really only half listening again, but his last words caught her attention once more. This time when she looked at him, there was less amusement and more offense. “I didn’t fucking know they were friends, never mind best friends, because neither of those goddamn morons told me,” she snapped. “I wouldn’t have done it if I knew. Redirect your fuckin’– your–” She let out a tiny noise of frustration when her alcohol infused brain couldn’t come up with the word she was looking for, and took to waving her fingers around in a jerking motion instead. “That,” she continued, “at Quinn. And for your information, Ryder and I are totally fuckin’ fine, because like I told your boyfriend, I’m the one who told him everything literally seconds after I found out they were friends, because I give a shit about him. I fuckin’ love him. I love him.”
Her eyes widened slightly when the last two sentences lingered, along with the tight tone she said them with. She thought maybe that outburst didn’t have much to do with John, and more to do with herself, and she absolutely didn’t want to stick around for whatever he would respond with. She saluted as she took a stumbled step back, forcing her lips to curl up in a smile, a last ditch effort to neutralize whatever the fuck she just said. “Mazel tov,” she whispered, and then she slipped away.
.
“Very funny,” John deadpanned, not sure if actually humoring her would do any good at this point but at the same time, her joke had brought yet another crisis upon Quinn and him and he was anything if not tired. Of course, it had been stupid. Even more so considering that he could’ve cleared it up almost immediately had Quinn just talked to him. Aside from that, John knew just how much Leslie liked to mess with him, so he could only imagine that this extended to other people as well – especially those who trusted her. Huffing, he shook his head. Relax. He was relaxed, even if he had to remind himself of that fact by rolling back his shoulders.
The words spilling from his lips weren’t fueled by anything but annoyance. He couldn’t blame it on the alcohol or anything but the anger that seemed to still cling to him now that he was confronted with the situation all over again. John pressed his lips together, his head tilting with something close to intrigue when she looked back at him now. His brows raised almost immediately and once again, he wasn’t exactly sure how credible Leslie Bowman could be. And yet, he hadn’t known either – not for the longest time and it seemed to track that Ryder, just like Quinn, liked to keep things from his significant other when it seemed convenient or unimportant. A part of him wanted to believe her. Maybe she wouldn’t have risked it had she known and judging by her own frustration and anger rising, John let out a breath that turned into a humorless chuckle. Oh, if only she knew – he’d redirected all his rage and frustration where it belonged already to the point where it probably hurt him more than it had hurt Quinn in a way. Shaking his head, John sucked in another deep inhale, eyes averting as he listened to her confession that seemed almost too real. Too genuine. It made John’s brows pull together and eyes focus on Leslie’s again for a moment, a puzzled look washing over him. A part of him felt hurt all over again. Angry over the fact that he’d been left in the dark for so long but another was surprised by the outburst – it was almost like Leslie was human after all. A human with emotions and valid feelings.
His lips twitched into a subtle smirk, head tilting only slightly. John was sure there was more to it – an underlying emotion he couldn’t quite put a finger on but for now, he was willing to let it go. Quinn and him had made up. They’d talked. They were working on it and he wouldn’t let this ruin his day, not this one. But before he could comment, John’s lips parting already, Leslie was once again quicker than he was, the words that followed making him let out a laugh in disbelief. “Mazel tov,” he called after her, mirroring her salute as she walked off, leaving him a little more puzzled than before – the way she always seemed to.
It probably would have been much easier for her if he had tried to sell it online, but apparently his desperation hadn’t affected his intelligence the way she’d hoped it would. Then again, if he had, she wouldn’t have a job right now… She hadn’t expected this job would be easy, but then again, very few of them actually were. “Cool, that’ll be my next stop, then. I’m sure I can google search it, but any suggestions on which ones to start at? Or names of contacts?”
Granted, while John did know a thing or two about scams, considering he’d worked in more prestigious galleries than the one in Crescent Harbor, he wasn’t exactly an expert on how to go about it but the one thing that kept him on high alert were usually two things: the overall demeanor of a seller and the inability to negotiate a price that both parties could live with. John gave a thoughtful hum at her question, nodding as he got up once more. “Of course! There are quite a few but I’m guessing he’d not necessarily try his luck in smaller ones like this one again, since our budgets usually can’t meet his expectation when it comes to the price. If he’s not willing to budge, there’s not a lot art dealers can do,” he added as he clicked through his computer, printing out a page listing a bunch of galleries. “I can go ahead and spread the word to some of those we work closely with. Just so they can keep an eye out already in case the piece is offered. Would that help?”
There’d been no question to the fact that, her wedding day was ultimately the best day of her life, thus far. Sanem had always been a big believer in fate — even before her and Allison’s own story came into full fruition. Though if she were to have gone back in time and told herself she’d be marrying her person in the future, lovely as it would’ve been to hear, it also might’ve been wild to consider then. Letting out a delicate laugh at his agreement in her comment about the ring, vision flicking between the piece and her friend. ❝ I’m just glad I was also able to give her one that shined just as much and she’ll love wearing always. ❞ Grinning as she reminisced momentarily on her wife’s reaction to the ring and proposal she gave just before this years charity gala. Picking it out at the jewelers, knowing it’d been exactly the beautiful and meaningful one she deserved. ❝ It really was like a fairytale huh, it was also nice having you be part of making that day for us too. ❞
Taking a small bite of her bagel, one hand hovers just over her mouth while she chews some, humming before elaborating more on the brewing project in mind. ❝ So, you know how I’ve been toying with ideas about changing around the studio, ❞ Sanem began in brief summarization. ❝ Well — going over different possibilities in design with Nadia, I thought it’d be nice to have a sort of mural painted, something depicting an array of dancers doing different styles, maybe in the lobby area or even the main studio room. ❞ Gesturing with her hands slightly in an expressive manner. ❝ And you were the first person to come to mind that I’d love to commission and know would be able to bring the vision to life. If it’s something you would be up for, of course. ❞ The enthusiasm was evident, though accompanied by subtle nibbling of her lower lip as she waited for his reaction to the proposition.
.
Giving a nod in agreement, John let out a deep breath. “They’re both very beautiful pieces. I think either of you did well,” he joked – clearly it wasn’t a competition but a symbol of their love and eternal bond. It warmed his heart to think back to how happy they’d been and how easy that day had felt. He’d expected more drama. More things to go wrong – but maybe that had just been his pessimistic side talking. In the end, it had been perfect and one of the most beautiful memories he’d file away forever now. A gentle smile tugged on his lips and he shook his head lightly. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything in the world,” he reassured.
With the emotion slowly settling into a comfortable warmth in his chest, John reached for his coffee, taking a long sip before setting it back down and looking over at Sanem when she started to explain further, his hands folding where they rested against the table between them. His brows shot up almost immediately at the mention of a mural and his head tilted with intrigue, lips pressing together as he held back the questions that started to pop up in his mind. A little taken aback, John looked back at Sanem with wide eyes, a hand coming to rest over his chest. “Me?!” He let out a surprised laugh but it lacked any hint of condescension or ridicule. “God, Sanem – I don’t know…,” he trailed off, his lips twisting to the side. “Are you sure? I haven’t painted in a while and…,” John took in a deep breath. There was a deep ache setting in. The itch to create and do what he’d always wanted to do with his life. He already had a vision – he’d lie if he didn’t. The creative part of his brain had never seemed to quiet down but the execution had slowed. He found Sanem’s eyes again, leaning in slightly. “When would it need to be finished?” He asked – depending on how much time he’d have, maybe this could work out. If there was one thing he’d learned over the years of living with the leftovers of his accident, it was that some things took a little longer and that was okay for the most part. He was sure Sanem would understand his hesitation if he explained it a little more.
When John opened the box to the hair piece that he had offered to her at the bridal shop just weeks ago, her first immediate reaction was to cover her mouth. Her jaw had dropped open instantly looking at the classic grandeur of the piece. Before an odd croaking sound could be more audible than a whisper, Allison delicately reached for the box though quickly withdrew her hand away, nearly afraid that if she touched it, it would simply shatter like glass. The thought of having another mini crisis that had to do with her wardrobe or anything on her person would have been catastrophic but the feelings that Allison was dealing with was a whole new terrain. She’d never been given much by her own parents growing up, at least not anything materialistic. In Allison’s web of care and her own experience, all she’d ever known was that if someone were to give something there was always a catch, always a need for someone to want something else from her, but with John, she knew there wasn’t anything material the man would want from her, or ever ask of her for. She turned to the mirror, watching their reflections as she nodded for him to proceed.
Her hair had already been prepared modestly where at the crown of her head was a braid while the rest of her blonde hair had been curled into waterfall curls. She pointed to the center of the braid, trying her best not to tilt her head to the side to grant John the precision he needed. “I think that might be a good for it, right?” She asked quietly. Before she knew it the hair piece had been affixed delicately onto her hair and while she thought it would feel heavy, she found herself feeling a lightness that emanated through her finger tips. It somehow had brought her entire look together, even more so then before. She wasn’t sure when the tears had formed in her eyes but she did her best to swipe them away. They were joyous tears, tears from being so overwhelmed from the statement behind John allowing her to borrow this gift, to allow her to have this being her something borrowed. “I told myself I wasn’t going to fall to pieces before the ceremony but god, it’s gorgeous.”
.
A gentle smile spread across John’s features. A hint of emotion never leaving his glance. He’d never imagined that the two of them would share such a bond – where sharing something so personal and near and dear to his heart would feel so simple. It felt right though. Alli was worth it and John was honored to even be a part of this special day, let alone such a special moment ultimately. For him, it was meaningful in the sense that his own family had been a construct that was anything but traditional and yet, he’d been given more than he ever could’ve asked for while the Hawthornes had left their children lost and empty-handed. He felt like it was a small gesture to some and maybe he didn’t fully grasp the depth of it himself but a part of him was eager to offer this moment to Alli – an extension of the sense of familiarity and love he’d been given at a later point of his childhood. Finding her eyes through the reflection of the mirror, John smiled and set down the box carefully, entirely unaware of her inner thoughts. He would never ask anything of her that way – he wasn’t a gold digger – even if her and Quinn’s parents thought so.
John let his eyes trail over Alli’s perfectly styled hair and for a moment, he was hyperaware of the tremor of his hands. A nervous one this time, unrelated to the one he got in his right hand occasionally. He gave a hum and nodded in confirmation. “I think so, too,” he told her, his tone soft and focused, matching Alli’s as he placed the delicate piece of jewelry in her hair, leaning back to take a look, a content smile on his lips when it stayed in place easily – matching her outfit and hairstyle perfectly. He’d hoped that it’d fall into place this way but actually seeing it be such a good match made his heart swell. Blinking away the emotion that had started to build up in his own eyes, John let out a small laugh as he reached up to lift his glasses, wiping at the corners of his eyes with a shake of his head. “God, me, too,” he admitted under a chuckle. “I don’t cry easily but this will do it,” the man joked, reaching out to give Alli’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You look beautiful, Alli. I’m sure Sanem will have to pick her jaw up from the floor when you walk out,” he joked. “Thank you for letting me a part of this day. I’m truly so thrilled. It’ll be the most perfect day from here on out.”
She started to blow into the mouth of the bottle of vodka while he spoke, not really listening. If his reaction to her unwelcome vulnerability wasn’t discomfort, she didn’t care about it at all. Good people – or people who claimed to be good, anyway – would offer advice, condolences, pity, but Leslie didn’t read any of that on John’s features, either. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, focusing back on his words rather than his expression. His last comment was a lightbulb moment for her. He didn’t pity her because he was mad at her. Her lips curled into a smile.
“You mean my ex-fiancé?” she asked, pulling the bottle away from her mouth. “C’mon, Dad, let’s be adults about this. I don’t care that you’re dating my ex. I think it’s great, actually. You have my stamp of approval.” She reached out to poke the tip of his nose, her sharp smile turning sweet – or at least she tried to make it look that way, anyway. “Really warms my heart that Gigantor was able to move on from the soul crushing experience that was me dumping him and running off with his BFF. I’ll always care for him, he’s got a special place in my heart, yadda yadda yadda.” She waved her hand dismissively through the air, as if her grace about the situation – which was not at all the way she presented it – was something he should be relieved over. “Don’t make it weird.”
.
For a moment, John paused. Watching the blonde standing in front of him and clearly not paying attention to a single thing she was saying. His brows pulled together – was she making noises to break up the rather serious tone of his? He’d never met someone he couldn’t read in the slightest but Leslie was truly taking that title home lately. It caused a bitter taste to spread across his tongue when he realized that for a moment, he’d pitied her. That for a moment he’d almost felt bad for her but that feeling was quickly replaced with a sense of anger and annoyance. She’d been the one that had caused yet another conflict he’d somehow had to navigate with Quinn. She’d been the one that had been messing with him the first time she’d stepped into the gallery.
“What was that even all about?! Fiancé?” John huffed out, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He knew that hadn’t exactly been on only her. Quinn hadn’t said a word to him and had he done so, he could’ve easily cleared that up. Yet, he’d been left in the dark once more but before he could indulge in that thought any longer, his brows raised up so high and so fast they almost seemed to hit his hairline. “Why do you keep calling me that?” John asked, gesturing around in the space between them as his brows knitted together, the lines on his forehead deepening. “I’m not sure I need your blessings at this point in any sort of way but thank you, I guess,” he huffed, scrunching up his nose when her finger poked the tip of his nose – causing him to take a step back and shake his head. This was getting more and more bizarre by the minute and John couldn’t believe that she somehow still managed to hold a conversation with him. He knew he could leave. He knew that he probably should and yet, he didn’t. Maybe a part of him was intrigued to see just how far she’d take this. Maybe another wanted to do damage control by letting her know that he could call her bluff. Either way, John remained with his arms crossed and some more space between them now. The nickname made his jaw clench – he knew she was merely pushing at this point but he snorted and shook his head. “Well, I’m so glad to know that both your hearts remain in tact and all this left us with was a pointless conversation revolving around you.” Taking in a deep breath, John allowed his shoulders to relax, though her words caused him to let out a humorless laugh as he rested a hand over his chest for emphasis. “Oh, excuse me – I’m making this weird? Leslie…I don’t think you even realize what you start with those little mind games you like to play. I mean, I don’t know about Ryder and you, but Quinn and I are going to be fine. I just know that if my girlfriend did this to my best friend? I’d not be all that thrilled.” He let out a breath. “So don’t worry, I don’t mean to make this weird because I don’t think I need to – it already is.”
Business meetings would always be something he wasn’t used to, briefings on the other hand he could always get behind. Having a plan, something that he could have full control over, know all the ins and outs of something, but this, not knowing, it all left him terrified. Money wasn’t really an issue, his mother’s were pretty wealthy, and had left him a fortune, something he didn’t wish to inherit so soon, or even at all if he could just have them back. The man in front of him was kind, that much he could tell, from the way he worried so much about the pleasantries of the meeting, to how much he wished to make him comfortable. A kind man with a kind face, as if he radiated nothing but warmth. Ty summarized this guy must’ve been the inspiration behind the entire saga of the care bears. Not that he felt as if he wanted to hug the other man at all…maybe a little bit, like some part of his inner child still needed that parental figure in his life.
“Yeah it’s personal…” he gulped, feeling his throat dry up before exhaling a heavy sigh. Sitting back down he let his head fall, golden locks spilling over his features lightly, his lashes casting shadows over his cheekbones. “I haven’t been in Crescent in a long time and it’s a concept that I came up with back when I was in California. That’s the first card I made. The lovers, and those two right there are my moms.” he mumbled. “They’re no longer around, but I thought this was the best way to capture who they were, and how they were with each other.” Ty smiled a little as the man complimented his peace, a slight pink hue surfacing on his cheeks before walking over to trace his fingers over the portfolio. “I’m going to make an entire deck, the inspiration here is home and all the people who inhabit it. It’s kind of an odd thing to make, portraits that are actually the major and minor arcana, but like I said it’s just something I’ve been wanting to do.” he mused. “You don’t have to pay me by the way, I don’t mind just giving some of my work since I have another job that sort of involves art.”
.
John had never learned to be anything but kind as long as the person opposite of him was extending the same courtesy. He could only bite his tongue for so long. Could only keep his features under control for a limited amount of time was that not the case but thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about that in the slightest now. It had been a new experience though – when he’d been welcomed into the foster family that’d soon become his own at 6 years old. He’d never known a kind gentleness like this but to his luck, it was the thing that stuck over the past three decades.
Giving a hum, John was quick to close the page – not wanting to be disrespectful. He could tell that the younger man was upset and he didn’t want to add to it so he fell silent but followed him with his eyes, listening intently as he spoke. John was expressive – he always had been, so there was no way he could’ve stopped his brows from pulling up in surprise when Ty started sharing but it wasn’t unwelcome. Not at all. In fact, John liked to learn more about the piece he’d gotten a glimpse of. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” the man said, his tone calm and gentle, low as if he’d disturb if he spoke any louder. Lips curved into a soft smile as John nodded. “I think you captured them very beautifully. Especially by honoring them with this specific card,” he added before he fell silent once more, merely listening to what the other man was telling him. His eyes lightened up and with a tilt of his head, John gave an understanding hum. “I don’t think it’s odd – I think it’s a very interesting concept, especially since you’re using it to immortalize those near and dear to your heart,” he added genuinely before letting out a breath, a small laugh escaping him. “Oh – no, you’re absolutely going to get paid if your pieces sell!” John’s brows raised in surprise but then again, he couldn’t accept that deal. “We only take a commission from it but you’re the artist. You put your effort and time into it so…if they sell, I’ll be in touch,” he promised. “And I don’t know if you’d like your deck of cards to ever be displayed but in case you change your mind along the way – I think that it could make for a beautiful exhibition. Especially since it is a local project,” John added. “From an artist’s perspective, I completely understand that decision though – displaying or selling a piece always feels like you give away a part of yourself. Even more so if it’s a very personal one,” he sympathized. “So whatever your decision might be, I’m all for it.”
“What a smart birdie.” Vic couldn’t help but smile. Normally, their comments were marked with a particular hint of sarcasm that seemed to dissipate in John’s presence. They had known him for so long, that it was almost impossible to keep all the walls that they had build around themselves up and strong, like a threshold, when in his presence. He carried a sense of familiarity that no one else, with the exception of their partner, had been able to make them feel. Slick fingers brushed John’s hair away from his forehead, a little hint of a smirk tugging the corners of their lips upwards, as if approving the way he had styled his hair that day. Not that John would ever need their approval, but, suffice to say, Victoria considered themselves more well-versed when it came to fashion. “Even if it were, we would just have to make sure that it wouldn’t stay crooked in my living area, right?” The brunette winked at their friend, and nodded once, now holding the strap of her Birkin with both hands and joining Jonathan as he began walking. “I promise I’ll try my best to accept that you have a lowsy opinion, then.” They quipped, all in good fun, of course. There were little to no one that knew Victoria and what they liked quite like John.
Once the duo came to a stop, Victoria shifted their gaze to the painting in front of them and they had to admit… it would really look perfect on their living area. Their partner was probably going to appreciate it much more than Vic would, but—wow… just wow. “You know…” Turning to face their friend, Victoria just couldn’t help but smirk once again. “Sometimes, it makes me really uncomfortable just how well you know me.” They teased with a light shake of their head. “Who’s the artist? Are my partner and I going to leave a kidney in order to have this?”
.
John was always happy to have Vic around. An honest soul that seemed to break open a little more when the two of them were together. It was funny to think just how long the two had known each other without him realizing just how deep their bond was after all these years. He didn’t mind spending some extra hours on a Sunday helping them out with a new piece of art to decorate their space with – if anything, John considered it a treat. His glance wandered up when they brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, as if he could spot the loose curl from there. Quinn had been trying to convince him to leave the house without spending so much time taming his hair but old habits died hard and John had never seemed to feel as comfortable wearing his hair the way it was in anyone’s company but his partners’ and his family’s. It left him a little self-conscious and he couldn’t help but laugh a little – mostly at himself as he dragged his hand over his hair for good measure before his eyes fell back on his friend. What he found though, wasn’t ridicule or anything negative – which didn’t come as a surprise – but it still reassured him enough to take in a deep breath and will himself to shift his focus again, to something that mattered more than his current hairstyle. “I could not live with the knowledge that there was a crooked painting in your space so you are correct,” John joked along before leading the way to the artwork in question. His brows raised almost immediately though, a pointed look shooting in Victoria’s direction. “I’d like to think I have yet to disappoint but of course,” the man teased right back, well aware that in reality, his friend did value his opinion and taste.
While John was hardly full of himself, he did take pride in his sense for aesthetic. He knew what looked good – he always had and colors always seemed to captivate him. Sure, he’d gone to school for it all but some of it, he believed had stuck with him since birth. When Victoria started to speak, John crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned towards them, his head tilting before a genuine laugh escaped him. “The artist is based in Seattle – he’s just now making a name for himself around the area so no…not a kidney,” he teased. “Maybe a slice of your liver but that’s all,” the man added jokingly. “I should probably make this a little more uncomfortable for us though and ask for your budget – I have a feeling it should be within range though,” John told his friend. “If not, I have other options. I just liked the composition and I think it’d be about the right size for the space?”
She smiled gratefully when John handed her a coffee, dropping 7 sugar cubes (and then an eighth for good measure) in her cup before taking her first sip. It was better than she’d been expecting for free coffee, and she supposed this was the sort of place where they wouldn’t skimp for the good stuff. “An auction,” she repeated, taking out her phone again to start jotting notes in her Notes app. “Sorry, just writing things down. Are their auction houses nearby? Is that an online thing? I’m guessing he probably wouldn’t go to eBay.”
John tried not to raise a brow at just how much sugar the woman put into her coffee – it was clearly none of his business but he almost seemed impressed by the dedication and the fact that there were in fact people who had a sweeter tooth than he had, apparently. He reached for his own, adding two cubes before stirring and taking a sip as he gave a hum. “Yeah, these kinds of pieces usually do better here since you can reach higher prices, depending on who bets on them. We have fixed rates, especially if the gallery is buying and not just displaying,” the man explained, a gentle smile on his lips as he waved her off. “No problem at all but yes, I believe there’s a popular one in Seattle so he if he didn’t want to make a far drive, that’s most likely where he’d be able to sell it next. I think if he went ahead and tried to sell it online, it’d be easier to find,” he explained with a nod. “So if I was him? And I didn’t have any luck in a local gallery? I’d most likely go to auction houses next – those are a good place to buy and sell art.”
For as put together Skylar liked to come off as, sometimes she could be a dramatic asshole with those she felt comfortable with. This, of course, was no exception, and spoke volumes of how highly regarded John was in her books. She hated people fussing over her in general, so she was quick to downplay the injury. “Oh, John, please. It is…” Her eyes averted downward to her wrist, dark bruising having formed. “… barely broken. I just need a bag of ice and a wrist brace. Most broken wrists heal on their own without hospital intervention, so I’m… good.” A sharp breath was taken, which determined that to be a lie. “I will be in a minute.” She wanted to mumble out a string of profanities that would’ve made most people blush – but the process of downplaying the whole situation meant keeping it to herself. Shuddering at the thought of how she injured it in the first place, she brushed past the question to save herself the embarrassment. She tried to wiggle her fingers again but that proved difficult without jolts of pain shooting up her wrist. “No hospital. Just… ice will be fine, thank you.” And yet, she went to see John in an art gallery where ice wasn’t readily available. No logic was found in her statement but she was damn well trying.
John was well aware of this game they both liked to play. How quick either of them was to gloss over the pain. New injuries. Old injuries. He could tell she was trying a little too hard and as much as he also knew how much she hated it when he got involved, there was no way he’d let go right now. Dark eyes fell on her wrist that seemed to look worse and worse the more time passed. “Barely?!” John’s voice had pitched a little higher with concern and he immediately rushed to grab his things – subtly enough to not make it seem like he was already rushing them but obvious enough to let Skylar know this was much more serious. “Sky…this does not look like barely broken wrist and you should listen to the guy with the already messed up one,” he told her pointedly, gesturing at himself. Lips pressed together as John took in his friend. He knew she was trying to seem strong and like she wasn’t in so much pain but even the thought made him shudder – the glimpse of her wrist sending a sharp jolt through his own. “Take it slow,” John told her, his tone a little gentler now as he exhaled a deep breath. Suppressing a defeated groan, John walked over to the small fridge that held a few drinks and a drawer with ice packs and some crushed ice for – well, not exactly these circumstances. “You’re so damn lucky right now, Skylar,” John huffed as he pulled it out, handing it to her, though he couldn’t help but kneel slightly, wanting to inspect the injury further and he sucked in a sharp breath. “…can you move your fingers? Does it tingle?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. “I can tell you already, ice won’t do a thing. We have to get going right now,” John punctuated his words, looking up at her almost pleadingly. He needed her to get over her pride right now – despite knowing just how hard it was to do so.
— Leave it for Victoria to be shopping for art on a Sunday, but, of course, everything about their beautiful brain was meticulously calculated. Sure, they wanted something to decorate their recently renovated living area, but it also gave Vic the perfect opportunity to persuade John to having lunch together and catch up with what had been going on in his life. The brunette knew there had been a wedding going on last week that was the current talk of the town, but Vic and their partner were in San Francisco meeting up with some business partners, so unfortunately, they couldn’t attend. But that didn’t mean Victoria didn’t want to know about the party from her favorite person in town. Sporting a white tank top and a cropped leather jacket, a pair of jeans and her favorite black pumps, Vic held onto her red Birkin bag and smiled as she approached John. “A little bird mentioned something about a piece that would look perfect in my living room?” Stopping by his side, Vic rested her elbow onto his shoulder, leaning onto her hand as she smirked at him. “Hi, handsome. Thank you for accepting my abhorrent invitation to leave the house on a Sunday.”
It was a weird balance that John was still trying to figure out – working while closing on a house, while trying to make time for his friends and his partner. He’d never had this kind of problem before. His entire life had focused mostly on work and now, with his priorities branching out into different paths, it felt almost overwhelming as he tried to get everything in order day after day. Working on Sundays was nothing new to John though. He’d done so for years and he could find some kind of peace in a slow day at the gallery like this – considering it was usually reserved for a walk around the space, a check-up to see if everything was in perfect order the way it usually was. John took pride in it after all and with the afterglow of the wedding slowly settling and life slowing back down a little more, he tried his best to stay on top of it all. He’d missed Vic there, always happy to have his friend around now that they were in town and if the clacking noises of the pumps hitting the sleek flooring of the gallery weren’t giving away their arrival, the familiar voice echoing through the space would do the trick. “And I think that little bird was entirely correct,” John was quick to reply, a broad grin spreading across his lips as his features lightened up, his eyes taking Vic in before he let out a small laugh at their teasing words. “Oh please, you’re doing me a favor. I had a bunch of paperwork to catch up on and I just came across a very crooked painting that I couldn’t just walk past,” the man joked. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t the one I had in mind for you. Speaking of though – should we go right ahead?” John asked, tilting his head at his friend. “I’m telling you right away though, personally, I think it’d be perfect for you two so if you hate it, please let me down gently.”
The wedding had come and gone, though the delight still clung firmly coursing through her, which meant that a portion of free time had settled into her current schedule. Of course there was still preparing for the honeymoon now, along with various other life-related obligations coming up on the horizon, some of which work related. Nevertheless she was glad to have a free day that ran in conjunction with John’s to meet up at the bagel shop, especially with the project idea in mind she’d been thrilled to run by him. During her nuptials whenever they’d gotten a chance to talk, there was just an overload of emotions at the forefront over the occasion.
After placing their orders, with herself opting for a smoked salmon bagel and cold brew, they’d taken a seat at the nearest table. Not long after which he’d taken her hand to admire the newest flash of jewelry settled around her finger. ❝ I’m convinced she walked into Tiffany’s and asked for the most iridescent one they had. ❞ Light laugh accompanying then, knowing Allison had taken her time to find the perfect one, though also wouldn’t be too surprised if there was a semblance of truth in the statement given the beautiful gestures she lovingly made. At the question she beamed a warm smile, pausing for a beat, though the response didn’t come with hesitation. ❝ A bit surreal still honestly — in the best way. I’ve always felt complete being with Alli, as a wife now though, that’s a whole new adventure, but I’m definitely excited for it. ❞ She explained genuinely, taking a small sip of her drink then. ❝ And speaking of excitement, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about, involving your artist talents. ❞
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John hadn't been to a lot of weddings in his life but none of the ones he'd attended came anywhere near Sanem and Alli's. He'd been an emotional mess all day, constantly overwhelmed with the love and joy he'd felt. The man had been over the moon for the two - happy to know that each of them had found their perfect match. Along with it had come moments of contemplation - the thought that maybe, just maybe, marriage was in the cards for him too but once the heightened emotions had worn off, he'd simply reached for Quinn's hand and reminded himself that this was enough for him. That he'd be fine without a ring on his finger. The house was keeping them occupied enough after all, everything else would come to them the way everything had up until now - naturally.
With his own bagel attained and his coffee placed in front of John, he couldn’t help but get distracted by the beautiful peace of jewelry flashing. “I have absolutely no doubt that this might just be exactly what she did,” John confirmed with a grin, his head tilting as he took it in once more. It was heartwarming to know how much care they put into this relationship – this marriage. Dark eyes fixed with a mirrored pair and the corners of John’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “I can only imagine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people look as happy and as in sync as the both of you did that day,” John told her genuinely, his hands molding around the warm cup of coffee before bringing it up to his lips. When she went on, two prominent brows were quick to raise and John set down the mug again, a look of intrigue washing over his features. “Oh…? How so?”
Just a little throwback thread we did for John and Quinn’s (@quinn-hawthorne) first date. This can be backdated about exactly a year ago. 🤡
trigger warnings: mentions of alcoholism and drug addiction, nervous boys and some kissin’.
A date. It was probably a mistake to do this. Quinn didn’t do this. His last date was -- over seven years ago, and with the only person he’d ever wanted something serious with. It didn’t have to be a thing, and he knew that. Something casual, something just to try and ‘get back out there’ so to speak. Was it pathetic that Quinn’s only real dating history was with Lara? Even when they hadn’t been together in nearly a decade? He was sure it was getting there. But, this, this was good, right? John was good looking, sweet, and he hadn’t refused the date. He could take that as enough. Maybe this would be a one time thing, that was okay. He didn’t expect much out of himself, figuring that John would realize quickly that this was a mistake, that he didn’t want to even speak to Quinn again, and he had to be okay with that. He liked John, though, he’d become a friend over the past few months, niceties turned into light flirting, and now here they were.
Quinn sat across from John, trying to cover up his nerves, or uncertainty. It was just dinner, fuck, that didn’t need to be a big deal. When the waiter came to the table, handing the drink menu to Quinn before starting to go over it, Quinn offered it up to John, an uncomfortable smile crossing his features as he did. “I’ll just have a water, thanks,” he told the waiter once he’d gone over probably too many drinks for Quinn’s own good, suddenly feeling sheepish at having made the poor guy go over the list. “But, please,” he waved a hand toward John, his eyes meeting the other man’s from across the table. “Anything you want. Don’t feel like you can’t.”
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John wasn’t sure if he could remember the last time he’d felt as nervous as he did that night. After spending an embarrassing amount of time getting ready – more than he’d ever like to admit – he’d finally decided on an outfit and it was then when he allowed himself a moment to process what was even happening. Quinn asking him out had come as a surprise. A welcome one, but a surprise nonetheless. They got along well, John knew that and maybe their friendly banter had turned into something that came close to some teasing but with how long he’d been out of the dating game, John almost felt like he had to relearn the first steps. His last real date had been years ago. There’d been one or two in the meantime but they barely mattered, considering they ended in him never seeing the person in question ever again. Maybe that was just something John had been cursed with – an inability to keep someone interested or maybe he was being too oblivious – the same way he’d been with Quinn up until now.
He hadn’t expected Quinn to be interested in him that way. He hadn’t even considered that he could be and yet, here he was, sitting in a dimly lit restaurant across from the other man, his nerves leaving him a little shaky and unfocused as he reached up to fix his glasses and cleared his throat – a nervous habit he couldn’t quite seem to shake. Quinn had been nothing but nice to him ever since they’d met. Kind and handsome, a little dorky in a way John found endearing but now, he couldn’t help but go over the advances he might’ve missed. The hints and the flirting he registered as Quinn being friendly. It made him feel a little stupid but he was snapped out of his thoughts when a waiter came by, a hint of surprise glimmering in his dark eyes when he accepted the card with a quiet thank you. His order caught him off-guard and maybe he’d imagined the slight discomfort on the other man’s features but he couldn’t help the way his brows pulled together. “Oh! Uh…,” he trailed off, eyes scanning over the menu as his hand lifted to touch his glasses again before he could stop himself and John met Quinn’s eyes momentarily before looking over to the waiter. “For me, too – thank you,” he said politely, waiting for him to walk off before he tilted his head, a curious smile on his lips. “You don’t drink?”
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It had been a long time that Quinn had started flirting with John before he thought the other man had even picked up on it fully. Nothing crass, just little things. He wondered how much coffee he’d brought John as a means of trying to win his favor without John even realizing just what he was doing. But, it didn’t matter, not really. He had finally gotten some courage to ask, half expecting a no, of course it would have been gentle, kind and sweet. Or maybe John was just too nice to say no outright. Either way, he figured this would wind up being good practice, maybe go on dates with other people when this inevitably went wrong. Especially with John looking just as put together, and handsome as he’d ever seen the other man. He’d tried, dressed up and cleaned up from his normal look, something that he rarely ever broke out, preferring something more comfortable than the jacket and slacks he’d settled on.
What he hadn’t totally expected was the slip and the tell so quickly. He didn’t drink, he was sober, and that wasn’t a fact he was ashamed of. It just didn’t exactly scream first date conversation. But, John didn’t seem bothered by the idea of Quinn not drinking, maybe he thought it was simply that whole ‘clean living’ that vegans or whatever did, not the same clean living he did. “Oh, um,” Quinn’s eyes went wide, paling a little under this sort of attention. “No, I don’t,” he admitted. “I’ve been sober for like seven years now. It’s not a big deal, just a part of my life.” He smiled over to John, waving a dismissive hand to his own words, as if trying to further convince him it was just that. Not a big deal. “Seriously, though, if you want some wine or something, I don’t mind. I’d hate to make you feel like you can’t.” He picked up the menu, his eyes giving it a once over, before glancing back up at John. He was honestly desperate to change the conversation. “Um, so have you been here before? I came once a long time ago, and they have this chicken and artichoke dish that I still think about all the time. I’ve tried to figure out the recipe at home and can’t quite crack it.”
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It wasn’t often that John felt stupid but the more he thought about it, the more sense Quinn’s visits at the gallery started to make. Granted, he’d been surprised whenever he showed up, bringing him coffee and taking the time out of his day to have a chat with him – which John had written off as a friendly gesture. It was like he needed to be hit over the head with it before he realized, not used to the attention and the idea of someone being even remotely interested in him that way. The concept seemed almost foreign and frankly, quite ridiculous to him. John had never considered himself all that special or desirable for that matter so as much as he wanted to find validation in Quinn taking the first step, he was also sure that if he allowed him to get to know him better, he’d soon realize he could have literally anyone else. He wasn’t good at this after all – at being flirty and charming, let alone impressing someone. John had been so sure he’d stay single forever, the same way he had for the past decade – which sounded worse when he thought about it but it was true after all.
Tonight though, John tried not to focus on his flaws and insecurities but on Quinn and the way he looked like he’d made an effort for him – which had made him smile to himself subtly. It had been unexpected but this didn’t have to be a big deal, right? It was just dinner, he reminded himself. Taking in the other man’s reaction, John’s own eyes widened – had he overstepped? God, he was so out of his comfort zone but he tilted his head casually, listening as his features shifted faintly. There was no hint of judgement though, merely surprise. “Oh! Wow – that’s…,” he trailed off, a smile tugging on his lips, “that’s great, Quinn. Seven years is a long time!” John told him genuinely, not having expected the answer. Quinn was in good shape, so he’d expected it to be a dietary restriction but he figured that it was a good sign that Quinn was honest about it right away, without trying to lie about it. He’d rather know about it than push him to have a drink after all. His lips remained curved into a gentle smile and he simply shook his head. “I don’t mind either! I like wine but I also like water,” John teased, appreciating the offer. “So – we can both just stay sober tonight,” he added with a raised brow before their conversation shifted. John couldn’t deny that he had questions but he’d also picked up on the way Quinn was trying not to dwell, so he wouldn’t. An intrigued expression settled on John’s features as he gave a nod. “Only a few times but it’s been a while for me, too.” He left out the detail that a restaurant like this felt a little intimidating when you went there on your own or merely a friend. “That sounds incredible though,” John mused, a smile washing over him. “I am a terrible cook so I can’t say I could or would ever make it myself but kudos to you for even trying! I’m sure the outcome wasn’t all that terrible though, right?”
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At John’s reaction, Quinn relaxed a little bit. Something like that wasn’t exactly easy news to hear, or break to someone on a first date. Wasn’t it some sort of red flag or something? But, John was supportive, nice, and it made the tension in his shoulders disappear. They would at least be able to enjoy the rest of their dinner, some of the heavy shit out of the way. “Thanks,” he said, smiling at John, laughing off his own nerves. John was willing to stay sober, to not drink around him and that brought a relief he hadn’t been expecting. “It’s fine, but thank you. For respecting that, even though you don’t have to.” He cleared his throat, before he shifted the discussion. He figured there were plenty of questions, there always were, but he wasn’t ready for that. He’d been honest, given enough tonight. He wanted to focus on the other, on John and getting to know him, not dwell on his own fucking problems.
The question felt empty, low effort and maybe it was, something to just shift the conversation. But, Quinn nodded at their shared lack of frequency to the place. His face twisted in disbelief at the comment, laughing lightly. “You can’t?” The question didn’t come out mockingly, only a curious surprise behind the words. “You seem like someone who can cook, you got that whole important art world vibe. Figured you’re out there making fancy dishes all the time.” Quinn shook his head though. “The first couple batches when I was teaching myself to cook were not great, but they’ve gotten better.” He had finally put his menu back down, his eyes settling on the other man. “Really though, either I’m misremembering the dish or they’ve got some kind of secret ingredient in there I just can’t figure out.”
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For John, it hadn’t even been a question of whether or not he’d respect this newly discovered piece of information. The idea didn’t put him off, let alone scare him – considering that Quinn had managed to stay sober for that long was a testament to how much he wanted to keep himself out of trouble and John felt like he’d be an asshole if he considered that a deal breaker. If this date was to lead to another or anything other than the way they had been all this time. He wasn’t sure if he had any expectations – not so much because of Quinn but because of himself. The man had no idea how to do this. How to seem alluring and attractive to anyone, really but either way and his nerves aside, this felt like it could just be a nice evening over dinner and a little less small talk. “Of course,” John was quick to assure, clearing his throat almost at the same time as Quinn – which made him laugh softly, his head shaking lightly. They were both nervous, John could tell but the only reason they were was because this felt a little more official. A little more like a hit or miss. “Thank you for telling me,” John replied. “Even though you didn’t have to,” he teased, a half-grin spreading across his lips.
They were warming up to the idea of this being a date, John was sure of it because the conversation felt a lot like testing the waters and yet, he was eager to get to know Quinn more. Granted, they’d been talking for a while, had shared a few bits here and there but never like this. They rarely dug deeper. Another laugh escaped him at how genuinely surprised Quinn seemed and he shook his head repeatedly as he went on. “Oh – god, no. I’m glad I can get away with pretending like I know what I’m doing but I’m really more of a takeout guy. I like a greasy pizza or Chinese,” he admitted, pulling a face. “The only thing I can make are pancakes and eggs. Maybe pasta…if I have some help with the sauce,” he half-joked. “So, no – my culinary experience has nothing on my expertise when it comes to art.” There was a spark of amusement settling in his eyes – a hint of surprise that this was the read Quinn had on him. “Well…,” John said, looking around for a moment before finding the other man’s eyes. “There’s only one way to find out tonight! A new chance if you will and maybe I can even be of help.”
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There were so many things in Quinn’s past he figured would be a red flag, Hell, maybe some of those things should be. Even the admission of a drinking problem, being sober now was a big one. John was kind, though. He knew there was plenty more to tell, plenty that might turn the other man away. That could wait. If it went poorly tonight, why explain another addiction when he didn’t have to? This one came naturally. The other, that could live in peace and in his past for now. Something he could worry about if this did go anywhere. He met John’s smile, and nodded. “Felt like you deserved to know,” he said, shifting in his seat, trying to hide his discomfort. He leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on the table gently, looking the other man over once more. An innocent gaze, taking in just how the other looked. Quinn wasn’t used to this kind of effort, it’d been a long time since he’d had to. But, John seemed to be in that state easily. Handsome, soft and comfortable. It made Quinn feel at ease with him normally, a way he didn’t usually feel with the Goldfinch folks.
But, tonight was a different feeling than at the gallery when Quinn stopped in. That was obvious going into this. He wondered if he should have done something a little more casual, a little more easy going for them to start, but this seemed like it would have been more John’s style. A nicer meal, a nicer place. John seemed like he was far from Quinn’s standard Docks comfort. Though, as he spoke, it was almost a relief, easy and something far more sustainable for Quinn if this went anywhere. “Greasy pizza and Chinese takeout are a staple,” he laughed, trying to reassure John that that was completely acceptable. “I’m terrible with pancakes, I really can never get them right. Oh, I’ve got the sauce down, I can follow a recipe pretty well, I got you.” He grinned for a moment, before suddenly feeling a little bold at assuming there would be even a teasing chance there would be a chance of that. But, when John leaned in to offer his help, as if they were sharing a secret, Quinn’s smile only settled further, relaxed and comfortable. “I may need your help, you’re going to have fresh taste on this. I’m sure we can figure it out and give this place a run for their money when we do.”
It was then that the waiter brought their waters, setting them down in front of each of them, as well as setting a small basket of bread between them. Quinn settled back into his chair and gave him a Thanks.
“Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked, and Quinn looked to John, for his approval. “If you are.”
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While a part of John wanted to know more already, the curiosity being a natural reaction rather than a need to test Quinn, he could tell that this was venturing into something too heavy for a first date. Either way, he appreciated the honesty and was sure that he’d be able to navigate it better now – knowing better than to offer Quinn anything alcoholic or ask him to get drinks if there’d be more dates to come – though he felt like maybe that thought was just him being a little too eager so he filed it back for another time. His features softened at the casual words and yet, they felt genuine. “I appreciate it,” John told him gently, adjusting to Quinn’s wish to move on from it even without him having to voice it. He could feel the other man’s eyes on him and for a moment, John tried not to get self-conscious about it. It had been a while since anyone had taken an interest in him that way but instead of judging him, Quinn seemed to just take him in - observing. His eyes averted for a moment, yet a soft smile remained as he reached up to fix his glasses, clearing his throat before daring to meet Quinn’s eyes once more.
It was interesting to see how their energy shifted – how suddenly all those gestures got a different meaning, how the stolen glances and nervous laughs suddenly made sense. John felt a little silly now, having filed them away as nothing but Quinn being friendly towards him. The place Quinn had chosen for them felt much more official. Like anyone would expect a date but truth be told – John had never cared much about prestige. He liked nice things. Extraordinary things. Expensive things. But he never expected them for himself. He’d been a little surprised at Quinn’s choice but he enjoyed the atmosphere – the dim light and soft background noises. He was also well aware of how people saw him, dressed in more formal attire, some of his clothes sporting the tag of well-known designers, all while standing in front of paintings that sold for horrendous amounts of money but that only made it more fun for John. The man loved the surprised looks he got when he shared his preference for fast food. His love for trash tv and being outdoors. A relieved laugh escaped John in return and he gave a hum in appreciation. “Thank god because they definitely are in my household and always have been,” he admitted with a grin before he tilted his head, prominent brows raising in surprise at the boldness of Quinn’s statement but he liked the confidence – or maybe the reassurance that he hadn’t messed up just yet. “See? I’d say that makes for a good balance.” His lips twitched into a half-smile. “You got the sauce down, I got the pancakes – it’d be a well-divided team effort because I for one am a hopeless case,” he joked, mirroring Quinn’s grin before looking down to where his hands were folded in front of him, resting against the table where he toyed with one of the rings decorating his fingers. It caught him off-guard just how easy it was to allow himself to flirt a little, to tease the other man with each of them playing along. Another laugh escaped and he was quick to nod. “Gladly! I’ll do my very best. Not that I got a very acquired palate but I can give it a try.”
Once their waters arrived, John’s attention shifted momentarily to thank the waiter as well but his eyes were quick to focus back on his date. “I think I am – go right ahead, though I am very curious about that artichoke chicken dish now.”
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Maybe this had been a long time coming, too long, really. It’d been months since they’d met, started getting to know each other and developing a friendship. It’d been months since Quinn had started flirting, even, but it only seemed like it was a matter of days since he even realized John was receptive, before he was bold enough to ask the other man out. John seemed too good for someone like Quinn, and he felt lucky that the other man gave him the time of day at all. The restaurant had made sense when he’d planned it, something nice, an attempt to step into John’s world a little more, but for as uncomfortable as he’d been, and knowing that John was a little more laidback than he’d expected he suddenly wished they were chatting over a pizza. It seemed like it was easier to talk that way, casual, low pressure. The only reassurance he gave himself was that even if John was more relaxed than this offered, there was no confusion on Quinn’s interest. John deserved a nice dinner, something special, even if this didn’t go anywhere. John’s words following his own, though, an idea that there would be another time even so early on in the evening only pulled his face into a smirk, relieved and interested in that prospect however it came about. “Balance like that is always good to have.”
His eyes wandered down to John’s hands, taking in the rings, and how John fidgeted with them. It was almost comforting to know that John seemed just as nervous as Quinn felt. It didn’t seem to make sense why anyone would be quite so nervous with him, but it made it easier to just be there with no regrets to name. When John ordered, Quinn nodded, giving John another smile. “I’ll have the same.” The waiter confirmed softly, as he took their menus, and walked back to the kitchen.
Quinn’s attention never fully left John, his eyes drifting down to his own hands, to the other tables only momentarily, but John held onto it. “So,” he said, reaching for a piece of bread from the basket. “I don’t know that I’ve ever asked. But, where are you from?” It seemed like a silly question, one Quinn never asked people if he knew they weren’t townies like him. “I mean, you’re not originally from Crescent Harbor, right? A small town like this everyone knows a little about everyone. And I’ll be honest, I don’t know that I know anything other than the bits you’ve already told me.”
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John knew that he was obvious when it came down to his nerves but one thing he was sure Quinn had already learned was that he wasn’t good at concealing how he felt. He knew he was expressive, his features never quite allowing him to be subtle and even his quirks gave him away. The way he cleared his throat, the way he played with his rings and reached up a little too often to fix his glasses – they were all indicators for how nervous he truly was. He knew he had no reason to, did he? Quinn wasn’t a stranger at this point and he did feel comfortable but maybe the more official part of it all, the less casual way of having a coffee together or chatting within the safety that was the gallery or running into each other at random caused all this to shift a little. Not that John minded – in fact, he was relieved. He’d wondered before, of course he had but he hadn’t expected Quinn to be interested. It was like they lived in different worlds entirely but never in a bad way, they had enough common interests but John knew that depending on what neighborhood you lived in, the town already had a certain picture of you and John barely occupied the docks the same way he assumed Quinn didn’t necessarily wander around Goldfinch much.
Once they’d ordered, John smiled lightly. “Time to find out what the missing ingredient is, hm?” He joked, yet he was entirely serious before his brows raised almost immediately, his focus entirely on Quinn again as he reached for his glass of water, taking a first sip as he listened, chuckling at the rather random yet basic question. “Oh god – now that I think about it, I probably only told you that I moved from Seattle but no, I’m not even from the area. I’m Canadian. I was born and raised in Toronto,” he shared, shaking his head. “If I’ve learned one thing so far having lived here for the past few years, it’s that you learn to spot newbies quickly,” John added with a chuckle. “You’re bound to keep running into each other if you’re actually located here, I think. At least that’s what keeps happening to me and well – kept happening to us, no?” His head tilted slightly, lips curving in slight amusement. “I’d be happy to change that though. What else would you like to know? I’m an open book,” he said, opening his palms as if to make a point, leaning back in his seat a little.
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Quinn sometimes felt out of his depth with John, maybe he’d made the man too complex in his mind, but with the confirmation that John had not only lived in Seattle, but was from somewhere else entirely seemed almost intimidating. “Wow,” the word fell from his mouth on instinct. “And you settled on here?” he asked, more teasing than anything. “I remember going into Seattle when I was younger and just thinking that was where I wanted to go.” He smiled. “Wild to think a guy used to big cities would want to be here of all places.” Quinn took a sip of his own water, pondering over John’s own teasing question, kept happening to us, no? Quinn desperately tried to hide the laugh that bubbled in his chest, and the way he suddenly felt restless in his seat. “Oh, yeah. Running into each other so much, you’d think one of us was into the other. Unavoidable hazard of a small town, what can I say?” he teased back.
Quinn bit into the bread, and thought over his questions as he chewed, easing back into his chair a bit. “What did draw you here? I mean, I know I don’t know a whole lot about art, but I can’t imagine the scene here is exactly something to jump at compared to the city.” He didn’t tack on that he was glad it had brought the other man here, that they’d met and he could have some kind of casual flirt, a date, and wherever it ended up leading to, with someone who didn’t know him before, someone who had a cleaner image of him than anyone else in town. “Though, I’m sure the gallery is looking better now that someone who’s seen more of the art scene other places is running it.”
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While John barely aligned with the image of him that seemed to live in Quinn’s mind, he was happy to share more about himself and shape it to something that felt a little more authentic instead. He knew what kind of impression he left, what he came across as but John truly wasn’t as stuck up and pretentious as his occupation and overall demeanor made it seem. Quinn’s reaction made him laugh – he could tell it was genuine but he was quick to nod. “I did! And have done so for the past…,” he pondered, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as he squinted, “six years? So it’s safe to say it was a rather final choice,” the man added, humming in understanding. He could see the appeal and maybe he looked at it from a different perspective considering that big cities were all he’d known before. “I like it,” John admitted with an almost shy smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved traveling before I settled here but…so far I like living smaller if you will,” he explained. “The anonymity can have its perks but it never quite felt like home.” At his teasing, John let out another small laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked back at Quinn, finally allowing himself to let his eyes linger for a moment as well. “Well, luckily one of us had the guts to finally step it up,” he joked in return, tilting his head. “In case you haven’t been able to figure that out yet, I’m not all that good with picking up on these things. I blame everyone around here being too friendly towards me.”
The amused smile remained on John’s lips and he reached for a piece of bread himself, his appetite suddenly making itself known but he’d been too lost in their conversation to realize until now. “That was exactly what drew me to Crescent,” he admitted. “Not that I ever planned on staying for as long as I had – I knew I wanted to live in a small town at some point and I came here for a trip on a weekend and fell in love with it. I learned that they had a position opening up for curation at the gallery and well…I gave myself a year but sometimes life just takes a turn that way,” he explained with a subtle shrug. “I worked in bigger galleries than this – not that that’s hard to do,” he chuckled, shaking his head before he continued, “but it had a certain charm to it, one I haven’t seen before. The art world can be…,” he trailed off, sighing as he tried to find a word, a brow raising before he leaned in slightly. “It can be a little pretentious sometimes. A little fake even and this felt more sincere to me. A gallery displaying art made by and for locals,” he concluded before his eyes averted bashfully at the compliment, his head tilting slightly. “Thank you. I’d hope so…otherwise I’d be very bad at my job,” he teased, taking another sip of water before clearing his throat. “What about you though? I know you’ve lived here for all your life, right? What made you stay?” He asked, popping a piece of bread into his mouth as dark eyes focused back on Quinn’s features.
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His own gaze was filled with interest and amusement. Quinn knew that his time here was colored differently than someone like John. He didn’t hate Crescent Harbor, it had everything he needed, but there was plenty that he wanted to distance himself from, and he didn’t see what exactly drew anyone into the town. But, hearing John’s reasoning, he supposed he could understand it. Living smaller. Wasn’t that what Quinn had been doing in recent years? Simply trying not to be a burden anymore. “Smaller living, I get that.” He agreed with a nod. He listened as John spoke, genuinely interested and curious about not only what ended up bringing him here, but the small bits of his past that flitted in. He liked what John had to say, liked his reasons even if there were pieces of him that didn’t understand entirely. It made sense, to some degree, a sincerity to the town that certainly lived there, but that sincerity that Quinn himself knew hadn’t ever been a friend to him. He didn’t hold it against John, though, it was a new place to him, but the gentle insult to the pretentious and fakeness of bigger cities in John’s world at least help him understand a little more. “No, of course. It always looks great in there. You clearly know what you’re doing.”
The question to Quinn, though, was more complex, too heavy to answer naturally. He took another piece of bread, tearing a piece off and popping it into his mouth as he tried to find a simple way to say it. “I have,” he answered, swallowing the bite. “It just never worked out,” he said vaguely. “We stuck around when my son was born to get some help because me and my ex were just kids ourselves. But, she never left, and I can’t imagine leaving while he’s still growing up.” He gave John a soft smile. Talking about these things with John, on a date especially, felt strange. Mentioning Mason, Lara, all of it. He left the heavier shit, left out the mention of being broke, struggling with everything he had. John had pieces of his past that he was sure could grant a little insight. That seemed like enough. “Plus, at this point, I’m in my 30s and never really went anywhere. It’s hard to see myself not here. I think it’s just where I’m supposed to be. If that makes sense.”
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It felt good – diving into the details a little more now that the two of them had the chance to. John had known Quinn for a few months now but right now it felt like they’d barely known each other at all. They’d kept their conversations light and casual, flirty, now that John reflected back but he’d never minded it. If anything, that was the point of exploring this, right? To get a feel for one another. For whether or not this one date would lead to another or even several more – not that John would get ahead of himself like that just yet. He smiled, nodding. It was a strange concept to think that while those who’d been born and raised here wanted to leave, yet he’d actively chosen to stay later on in his life. Granted, Quinn couldn’t know all the things that had led up to this moment and John wasn’t sure if it was the kind of thing to share over dinner. Yet, he was sharing more than he had without feeling like Quinn was judging him at all, if anything he was listening to him – showing genuine interest – and that alone was enough to reassure the man. “Thank you,” John repeated sincerely, a smile splaying across the curve of his lips.
As he mirrored the question back to him, John could sense the slight hesitation, nodding softly as the other man spoke. His son. How could he have forgotten about that? It was still a foreign concept to him – being a father. Having that kind of responsibility and it was then when he realized he’d never asked further. All Quinn had shared was that he had a son, hinting at the fact that his mother and him were no longer together so he nodded. “That makes perfect sense. I imagine it to be much harder to move when you want to be close to your child – that’s a good thing though, not everyone sticks around,” he said and maybe that was his own biography speaking but he let out a gentle breath instead, looking back at Quinn. “How old is your son now?” He asked curiously, his tone non-judgmental as he took another bite of his bread and another sip of his water. He didn’t mind the topic, let alone the fact that the other man had a kid. It wasn’t a dealbreaker to him – if this was to get any more serious that was. Chuckling, John shook his head. “I mean, I moved to Washington when I was just about thirty so…,” he joked, a teasing grin on his lips. “It’s never too late for new beginnings in my book but I do think that makes sense. I probably would’ve moved back to Toronto myself had I not gotten so attached.” It was then when their food arrived, interrupting their conversation briefly but John’s attention stayed focused on Quinn, merely straying to thank the waiter and shift in his seat. “But – here we are,” John added finally, a content smile gracing his lips.
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Quinn felt a small pang at John’s words. The mention that not everyone stuck around was not meant to be pointed, maybe something personal but not at Quinn. It wasn’t the time to bring up all the bad, that was something they’d deal with down the road if that was where this went. “I do my best. I want to make sure he’s got a good support system.” He took a sip of his water, and slightly paled at the question as he thought about it. “He’s fifteen, just turned this past September. Starting high school and everything. Which makes me feel old as Hell,” he said with a laugh. Mason was a piece he never felt a hint of shame on, his only regrets surrounding it were in regards to himself. He was proud of Mason, even if he hadn’t played as positive of a role until the past few years. “He’s a good kid. Way better than I was at his age.” He was relieved once more, though, that John didn’t seem judgmental. He knew that he’d mentioned Mason in passing, but it was hardly an unusual thing if Mason had been younger, but having a kid when you weren’t even out of high school wasn’t exactly a shining badge to wear.
Their food arriving was a welcome interruption. He didn’t exactly think about leaving often anymore, more accepting the permanent stay in Crescent Harbor. It was fine, he’d accepted it plenty of years ago. But, John was kind, as always, giving him a level of support on something that barely ever crossed his mind anymore. He thanked the waiter, before his gaze moved back to John, meeting his smile. “Here we are,” he echoed. “And now you’re roped into helping me steal their recipe. I hope you’re ready for this important job,” he said, his tone teasing and soft. It was easy, their meal and their conversations stayed comfortable, that initial nervousness had practically disappeared by the time their food was in front of them. Whatever this was leading to, Quinn wanted that. He liked John. It didn’t have to be serious, but looking over at John, he wanted something. John had humored him along the way, and was sweet and understanding every step of it.
By the time they were finished, Quinn still wasn’t exactly sure what this all would end up amounting to. The waiter swung by with the bill, Quinn was quick to slip his card in and hand it back, his face still grinning across the table at the other man, making polite chit chat as he waited for the waiter to return, this time, signing the receipt and leaving his tip. He peered over at John, once more, not exactly wanting to end the night yet. Only giving himself a reassurance that they would likely do this again. “Are you ready?” he asked. “I don’t want to take up your whole night,” he said, smiling.
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“If it makes you feel old, then what does that make me?” John teased, his words never anything but teasing as he grinned and his features softened. “I’m glad to hear that. And I’m sure it wasn’t easy raising a child being so young but I think it says a lot about you that you stayed – you must be so proud,” he said, eager to talk about this as casually as they could. He didn’t want this to be weird or too personal but his words were genuine. John was sure that now wasn’t the time to share more about his own experience but he was convinced Quinn was a good man. He had to be if he never left the town despite wanting to in order to be closer to his kid.
A laugh escaped and John covered his mouth subtly, as if they were sharing a secret once again. “Does this count as a crime if it’s for personal use only? Because this smells delicious and if you’re as good in the kitchen as you claim to be, I’ll be even happier to help if it means I get to eat this again,” he teased, only half-joking now that he was feeling a little bolder about his flirting. This felt good and easy enough – maybe John wasn’t as rusty as he’d thought he’d be or maybe the person he was on a date with being Quinn made it that much easier. It felt familiar enough and their gentle teasing and joking around caused every ounce of tension to fade.
As the evening carried on though, John was starting to feel restless all over again. He didn’t want it to end, let alone did he want this the last time they did this. He wasn’t sure what it was about Quinn but there was something and a part of him felt ready to allow himself to explore it. After having been single for years, John had come to peace with this just not being in the books for him but with Quinn being ever so charming and funny and kind towards him, that thought seemed to melt away. A part of him wanted to complain about him paying for him but he accepted it in the end, watching Quinn do so as if it was the most natural thing in the world but John didn’t take it for granted. Looking him over, John couldn’t help but laugh softly at the way they both couldn’t quite seem to get themselves to get up and get moving – as If neither of them wanted to let that night end just yet. “I am, thank you,” he told him before snorting and giving a fond roll of his eyes. “You say that like I’m ready to bail when really, this has been the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I’m having a great time, Quinn. You’re not taking up my night at all.” With that, John pushed his chair back though, letting out a breath as he got up hesitatingly.
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“I’m having a great time too,” he said, a relaxed smile resting comfortably on Quinn’s face. Quinn followed John’s movement, pushing his chair out, and getting up. He didn’t want to end dinner, didn’t want to end their night. It felt too bold to ask him back to his place, didn’t want to push or assume. It was certainly something he wanted to do again, and extending the night to either of their places could come along with that. He’d never really dated, Lara was the only one he’d had anything serious with, or even a formal date with, and that had been years ago. But, it felt easy with John, a comfort from their budding friendship before all of this. Still, he wasn’t sure what the next moves were. He just tried to read the other man, tried to figure out just what was appropriate to ask. He sidled up next to John as they made their way out. His hand slipped into John’s, a gentle touch as they walked together.
As soon as they were out, back to John’s car, Quinn finally dropped the other man’s hand. Even for the short time, the loss of John’s hand felt weighty. He made his way to the other side of the car, and slid into the passenger seat. “I had a really great time tonight,” he said, his eyes looking over to John. “I know you said I’m not taking up your time, but I still stand by it. I’d still be up for something else, but I don’t want you to get sick of me just in one night,” he joked. “I’m hoping we can do this again, you know?”
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The confirmation caused a grin to break out on John’s features. It should’ve been ridiculous because he could tell they were getting along and enjoying each other’s company and yet, he had the audacity to question it up until Quinn’s reassurance. Yet, it was then when John started to feel a little lost. Was this the end of their date already? He didn’t want it to be if he was honest to himself but he also wasn’t sure what the next step could be. He felt drawn to Quinn, his eyes constantly on him and as unfamiliar of a feeling as that was by now, after years of not really taking interest in anyone that way, John felt almost a little overwhelmed. John had never been the type to date around or sleep around for that matter. He’d made his fair share of experiences but if those had made him realize one thing, it was that sometimes you should trust your gut and with Quinn, there was nothing that alarmed him. Quite the opposite – he found it hard not to hope for more, yet he tried not to just yet. A gentle smile tugged on his lips when Quinn was bold enough to step into his personal space – not in a way that felt overwhelming but welcome and when his hand sought out his, John was surprised at the sudden touch but let his own fingers interlace with Quinn’s for a moment. They could unpack that later – he was sure of it. Right now, John merely let himself enjoy the connection, the way it made his heart beat a little faster and made his skin warm up.
John almost immediately missed the touch he’d not known for what must’ve been years and a part of him wanted to reach out again, keep them connected but he didn’t want to make this weird or overwhelming for either of them so he merely smiled back at Quinn and slipped into his car wordlessly. “I did, too,” he told Quinn genuinely, his eyes finding Quinn’s in the dim light of the parking lot illuminating the inside of his car. A genuine laugh escaped him and he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s possible…,” he said softly before falling silent for a moment. “Thank you,” John added. “For taking me out tonight and treating me to a nice dinner,” he told him. “I haven’t been on a date in quite some time and to say I was nervous would be an understatement but – you made it very easy to enjoy myself. Truth be told, I don’t really want it to end just yet so I also stand by the fact that you’re not taking up my time at all. I have no other plans tonight for a change so…,” he joked, trailing off with a grin. “I’m usually very busy watching TV at this hour but I’m open for suggestions.” With that, John started the engine but his eyes wandered back to Quinn for another moment. “I’d love to do this again, too, though. Whenever you’d like.”
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Everything John said took away the tension that had come to reside in Quinn’s shoulders. The uncertainty if he’d misread the situation or had been alone in enjoying himself. It had just been dinner, it shouldn't have pulled him like this, made him want more so quickly. Yet, he did. He could suggest going and grabbing a coffee, going for a walk, something but his mind was suddenly blank, staring at the other man, engrossed in him. His face met John’s smile, and he shook his head. “It’s been a long time for me,” he admitted. “You definitely made it easy to shake the dust off.” He laughed lightly along with the man. TV was usually where he found himself as well, but compared to John’s company it lost its appeal.
The engine came to life, the warm glow of the street lights outside trading for the cool of the lights inside the car. His eyes met John’s once more, the confirmation of doing this again echoed in his ear for a long moment. A smile creeping over his features, before his eyes trailed down absently, landing on the other man’s lips. It was without any other hesitation that he was leaning in, pressing his lips to John’s. His hand coming to rest against the other man’s jaw to draw him in. Nothing urgent or rough. And over far too quickly. He pulled away, his eyes flirting open to meet John’s once more, taking in the warmth of his dark brown eyes. He wanted more, wanting to chase that as much as he could, but he held himself in place, smiling to John. His hand never left its home on the other man’s skin, simply slipping down against the warmth of his neck to rest his fingers gently. “I hope that was okay,” he said, a laugh framing his words.
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The reassurance was all they’d needed for the last bit of uncertainty to fade away and John, for the first time in years, felt ready to let this happen. Quinn wasn’t a stranger after all. He’d proven to him that he was genuine – otherwise he wouldn’t have spent months talking to him, right? Again, John didn’t want to keep his hopes up but Quinn made it easy to forget the times in the past that had burned him and when he looked back at him, his eyes meeting a pair of warm blues, John couldn’t help but feel like he should lean in. Like there was some tension between them that was far off from the nervousness they’d radiated earlier that night. It had been just dinner but John already wanted to see Quinn again, even with him still right there in front of him. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “That makes two of us then,” he said, the words once again calming him – they were in this together now.
The silence that settled for a moment didn’t feel awkward in the slightest but John didn’t miss the way Quinn’s eyes dropped and for a moment he wondered if he was making this up – if it was wishful thinking that he’d fixed on his lips for a little too long but suddenly, the other man was leaning in, his face right there and breath warm on his skin and John allowed himself to melt into it, meeting him for a chaste, gentle kiss – merely a press of lips and a tender brush of Quinn’s calloused fingertips against his jaw. John let out a shaky breath in surprise, his own eyes meeting Quinn’s as he let out a small chuckle. The touch against the side of his neck made his skin prickle and hairs rise as he held his glance and it was his turn to let his eyes linger on Quinn’s lips as he spoke, a laugh of his own escaping. “That was – yeah, god – no, that was completely okay,” he breathed and couldn’t help the broad grin that spread. “It was fine, actually,” John teased, meeting Quinn’s glance again as he bit his lip, pondering if it was okay to want more so soon already but he let himself take the leap and closed the distance once more, keeping their kiss light once again before he pulled away with a soft hum. “Definitely okay,” he laughed. “So – where to?”
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When John met him for another kiss, Quinn didn’t want that one to end. It was light, and soft, something chaste and sweet just as it seemed like it should be so soon. Still, pulling away felt difficult. The touch and the affection felt foreign to him after going so long without, but it was welcome, and with John, it just left him wanting more. He could have pulled John in deeper, held him to the kiss for longer, and he wanted to, but it was too soon for that, wasn’t it? He let his hand drop from John’s neck, falling back to his side. He pulled away, the hum that escaped John left him reeling a little, his mind suddenly wandering over the noise. It only left him wanting more, wanting to hear more of that. He bit his lip, gentle and let it slip back out from his teeth with ease. He cleared his throat, an attempt at clearing his mind from where it had trailed off to.
At John’s question, Quinn hardly hesitated before responding. “We can go back to my place,” the words slipped out, sounding as casual as Quinn could muster. “I mean, for like coffee and maybe watch some TV,” he said, a gentle laugh floating the words. “If that’s what we’d be doing anyway, you know?” He didn’t want to overstep a boundary, didn’t want to overwhelm them both. He wasn’t exactly a casual hookup kind of guy, and he didn’t get that impression from John either. They were both grown men, they both knew where this could lead if John agreed, what Quinn tried not to imply. Nothing had to happen, it could stay innocent and they could just do exactly what Quinn had suggested if they really wanted to. His eyes didn’t stray from John’s though, even as he settled back into the seat, his head leaning back slightly against the headrest. “Or wherever you want, really. I’m good with anything.”
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A part of John had wanted to linger, too – there was no denying that. There was no point in lying to himself and pretending like he didn’t want to deepen the kiss either, to keep Quinn close and see where it’d take them but he was thankful for the way Quinn seemed to understand. It was new for both of them – not entirely but John didn’t want to put too much pressure on them either. This didn’t have to be more or let alone physical. John enjoyed their conversations and now, as he’d discovered, he also enjoyed kissing Quinn. His brows raised almost immediately at Quinn’s suggestion but the smile that spread across his lips was amused, not at all put off by the idea. “Coffee and TV sound good – if you don’t mind me occupying more of your night,” John added, always checking in for their consent, trying to keep them on the same page even though Quinn had suggested it.
“I mean, that’d make sense, right? I’d literally just go home and do just that after dropping you off,” he admitted with a grin. John wasn’t naïve. Oblivious, yes but he’d picked up on their chemistry and the tension that was still building between them. Their kisses had left him wanting more and maybe, just maybe, he was hoping for it to turn into more kisses – ones that lasted longer than the pecks they’d shared and maybe they’d allow themselves to let them grow deeper but before John could drift too far, he snapped himself out of it. He let out a deep breath – an attempt to ground himself. Was this a good idea? John had no idea just yet but it felt right, so why not go for it? With that last reassuring thought, John chuckled and started pulling out of the parking lot, looking over at Quinn briefly. “You’ll have to navigate me,” he declared, once again confirming that going home with Quinn was more than good with him.
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“Not at all,” Quinn confirmed. “I’m more than okay with you occupying my night.” It wasn’t needed, but Quinn appreciated the check in. As John rambled on, Quinn just nodded, doing his best to hide the teasing grin that threatened to take over his face. “Right,” he agreed. “It just makes the most sense. Neither one of us wants to go home and just watch TV alone, might as well just hang out together.” That was all that had to happen, Quinn assured himself. He wanted more, sure. The kisses they’d already shared were just enough to leave him wanting to turn that into more. It didn’t have to turn into an entire night, only going as far as they decided. Still, he wanted those soft, quick kisses to go deeper, longer, let them take over his brain for however long they could. Maybe if this was someone else, someone he had just met he would have been okay ending the night here, being dropped off and waiting to see them again before anything more. But, his interest in John had been lasting for months, and now with a successful dinner, and the seal broken on affection, he didn’t want to let the night end just like that.
John pulled out of the parking lot, and Quinn felt the tension build all over again, of what would come. He gave John directions, telling him where to turn, and when. Their conversation nearly dropped to zero as the two focused on the roads. The short drive in the small town felt too long. “Okay, the next driveway on your right is my place,” he said, pointing it out ahead of time for John to slow and pull in. As soon as they parked, Quinn looked over at John with a frown. “Make sure to lock your car. I know we’ll just be inside. But, I know it’s not really the best neighborhood.” Quinn let himself out of the car, pulling his keys out of his pocket. He waited for John to come around his side of the car, before heading up to the front door, and unlocking it. He switched on the light, and stepped inside, moving to let John in. “It’s not much, but please, make yourself comfortable.” He felt a little self conscious over the place. It wasn’t dirty, or messy, just the cheap thrifted furniture mismatched with the things he’d made himself set up around the place. Nothing seemed to match, not the TV stand he’d built to the cheap plaid couch that sat across from it in the living room. Not John and the rest of the room. “I’ll, um, put on a pot.”
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John knew he didn’t have to ask Quinn again or make sure he was really okay with it – the kisses and invitation should’ve been more than enough confirmation but he couldn’t help it. A part of him still thought this was surreal, too good to be true because while John wasn’t someone for one night only types of things either, whether that was a date or something more, it felt safer with Quinn – he knew him and his interest felt more genuine. He wanted to continue seeing him after all, right? He grinned back at the other man when he reasoned their decision and nodded. “Exactly.” John didn’t expect anything to come out of this – he didn’t expect more but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hoping for it. Kissing Quinn had felt good already, sharing the gentle press of their lips together but he was itching for more, he could try to deny but the truth was that it had been a long time coming, whether he was just now realizing it or not.
They were silent, safe for the way Quinn navigated him to his home and once John parked the car, he looked over at the other man, giving a gentle nod. He was well aware of the reputation the neighborhood had but that didn’t taint the way he saw Quinn. “Got it,” he told him with a reassuring glance and got out as well, locking the car like the other man had advised him to before following him inside. It was then when the nerves seemed to set back in and the man let out a breath before looking around. John was quick to shake his head at the comment. “It’s your place,” he said. “So thank you for inviting me in,” he added. The place was tidy but it made John smile because it was almost like he’d imagined it to be. A little scattered. A little mismatched – he picked up on the fact that Quinn didn’t care much about the things he did like design or what color went with what if the plaid couch was any indication but John didn’t judge and his focus wasn’t so much on the interior anyways but his eyes followed the other man. “Yeah – okay,” he breathed. “Thank you,” John said again, shrugging off his coat before putting it away and without thinking twice about it, he followed Quinn – not wanting to be too far apart.
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Quinn turned the corner into the kitchen, digging into cabinets for the coffee grounds. He was aware of John, almost too aware that the other man was staying close. Something he wanted, something that he was thrilled at the prospect of. He didn’t want coffee, not really, not now. He wanted to just sit with John, kiss him and embrace what this visit really was. He grabbed a coffee filter, and put it into the maker, scooping grounds into it. What did you say to someone you brought home when you weren’t trying to make it seem like you were interested only in a casual hookup, a one night thing? This was all new to Quinn, it was new to John too, and based on either of their shared quiet, neither of them was exactly sure. Because that wasn’t at all what he wanted. He filled the machine with water, finally leaving it so it could do the rest. He finally turned to John, a goofy smile taking over his face as he took the other man in. “Hi,” he said, the word feeling dumb as it slipped from his lips. “It’ll, um, it’ll be a few minutes. Old machine, takes a while.” Each word he spoke was punctuated by a step toward John, slow and encroaching into his space.
“So, we could, you know, find something to watch, or-” he cut himself off. His gaze trailed back to John’s lips, something he didn’t even try to hide. He didn’t know why he was pretending, really. He didn’t give John a chance to agree, or lead the two of them over to the couch. He leaned in, capturing John’s lips with his own. This kiss was something else from the last ones before they’d arrived. It wasn’t urgent or desperate, though both things were becoming more true of Quinn as they stood there. It was still soft, but one he didn’t pull away from, longer, only becoming deeper. His hand came back up, this time coming to rest comfortably in the crook of his neck, his fingers slipping into John’s hair, and letting the kiss last as long as he could. When he finally pulled away, he only did so far enough for his half-lidded eyes to meet John’s, staying close enough to feel the warmth of John’s breath land against his skin. “Or we can do that,” he breathed out, his lopsided grin ever present. “Whichever you’d prefer.”
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John felt a little awkward – unable to help but also unable to occupy himself and how could he when his mind was already drifting. Instead, he watched Quinn, allowed himself a moment to see the other man in a different light. He’d always thought that he was attractive but maybe he’d stopped himself from unpacking just how attractive he thought he was. But now that he knew there was more to their friendship, despite not quite able to put a name on it, he let out a deep, inaudible breath, his mind racing with both the pros and cons of doing this. They were both grown adults – there was nothing stopping them from indulging in the newly found connection and yet, John was nervous. Nervous to find out what it’d do to the friendship they’d built. Nervous to find out what they’d miss out on if they didn’t explore further. He didn’t want this to seem like he’d had any ulterior motives agreeing to going home with Quinn – that hadn’t been the case. He’d felt drawn to him and wasn’t ready to stop spending time with him, that wasn’t a crime, was it? It was new and overwhelming – not something John had ever done or done a lot at least. He’d never been one to enjoy random hookups. Instead, he always sought out some kind of connection – one he definitely had with Quinn. A soft laugh escaped him when Quinn caught on to the way he’d been staying close, his eyes lingering. “Hey,” he breathed, shaking his head. “That’s okay,” he added, the breath knocking out of his lungs now that Quinn was in his space again – a tall, broad yet gentle presence and John wanted to reach out. He wanted to welcome him into that newly claimed space.
His brows raised with intrigue when suddenly Quinn’s eyes trailed down again and a knowing smile tugged on John’s lips. It was obvious that they both wanted this and John had a feeling that Quinn was holding back for the same reasons he was. A surprised gasp escaped when Quinn did in fact retain some of his boldness, kissing him again and this time, it wasn’t as chaste as their first or even their second one had been. Yet, John welcomed it and kissed him back almost immediately. His lips brushing against Quinn’s in a way that felt almost like he was testing it out, seeing how much deeper he could let this grow and for a moment, it was John’s turn to get bolder now. He parted his lips against Quinn’s lightly, sucking against his lower one as his eyes fluttered fully shut and there it was again, the gentle touch of Quinn’s hand against the side of his neck and his fingers sliding into his hair. A part of John screamed at him to stop, to not let this get further and yet, another part, the one that felt like taking a risk screamed to ignore it and to indulge for once after having denied him for so long. When they parted, John felt breathless, his own eyes heavy-lidded and dazed, his breath coming out hot against Quinn’s lips as he chuckled, his own hand coming up to cup Quinn’s jaw tenderly, his thumb brushing against his stubbly cheek before he leaned in for another quick kiss, hoping that’d answer his question. “I’m good with that if you are,” he whispered, searching for Quinn’s glance once again. “I mean…you said coffee will take a while, right?”
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That was all it took. John’s matched boldness, sucking his bottom lip in, it was a confirmation that this was more than fine, more than accepted. But, when John followed Quinn’s offer with a kiss of his own in the space between, Quinn was ready to get a little more lost in it, happy to forget the pot of coffee he’d started. He didn’t say anything else, just dove back in, capturing John’s lips with his once more. The testing waters had been passed on this, his own lips parting against John’s, his tongue running against John’s lip, asking to be granted access. Finally deepening the kiss as soon as he could. His free hand came to rest on John’s hip, and pulled him gently, until they were pressed flush against each other. A contented hum was the first sound that escaped him other than breaths in what felt like hours, but had only been moments.
The only conscious thought that streamed through Quinn’s mind was a mental navigation of the small house. He started walking them back out from the kitchen, breaking the kiss once to find the couch, sitting down once in reach. There wasn’t a question posed this time, simply tugging the dark haired man back to him, only to wrap up into each other once more. His hands found their place once more, one trailing from his hip to move up his back. He trailed his lips from John’s moving along his jaw, and down to his neck, replacing the hand that had been resting there, as he focused his attention on the warm patch of skin. His efforts turning from kisses to sucking at his neck, never long enough in one place or bearing teeth to leave marks, just new brief boldness before he moved back, capturing John’s lips once more with his, this time full of hunger and urgency.
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John was surprised at how easily he’d allowed himself to dive into this head first. How he was beyond holding back so quickly. Maybe it was the way Quinn made it seem so easy and so very welcome – maybe it was the residue of the tension that had built up over time. But now, with both of them close and eager to continue whatever this was and whatever it’d end up being, John couldn’t seem to care about the consequences. Not when Quinn seemed to take over in his mind, the softness of his lips and the gentle brushes clouding it and dissolving the nagging doubts, his insecurities and the only thing that mattered was getting more of Quinn’s touches. Of his kisses. Of his attention. A low hum vibrated in his chest when Quinn deepened the kiss even further now that John had given him the okay – the animation enough for him to get more daring and John was happy to go along with it, his own lips parting to meet Quinn’s tongue with his own as their kiss turned into something a lot less innocent. It was like they were running on autopilot now – the kisses and touches new and exciting, yet also weirdly familiar to John. Quinn felt safe that way and it was then when he gave in fully, a soft gasp escaping against Quinn’s lips when he pulled him closer, close enough to let their bodies align with ease. The low hum made John smile into the kiss and it made him feel confident enough in what he was doing to Quinn to let his own arms wrap around his middle, hands splaying against his back to keep him flush against him.
When Quinn started to relocate them, John went along with it right away. Walking with Quinn as they stayed connected and allowing the other man to take the lead. They didn’t talk – they didn’t have to. Their bodies did it for them as they barely left any space between them, only parting so they could get situated. When Quinn settled, John followed by letting him pull him into his lap. Breaking away with a soft gasp, John’s eyes flickered open to look down and into those stormy blues he’d been lingering on all night. It was then when he knew, deep down, that this was the last chance to back out. Mainly because he knew that he was already a goner – had already allowed himself to dive in too deep and there was no way he was going to want to stop. Quinn felt good against him, the warmth he radiated comfortable and safe and their bodies seemed to fit alongside one another almost perfectly, the slight height difference enough to give Quinn easy access to his neck and god – if John hadn’t been in trouble before, he most definitely was now. John hadn’t been touched like this in what felt like forever and the way Quinn kissed him felt both eager, yet tender – like he did care about him beneath the hunger and that alone put John’s mind at ease all over again. One of his own hands had found its way into Quinn’s hair, the other splayed against his shoulders when he let his head tip to the side with a content sigh. How Quinn had figured out just where to kiss and where to touch him so easily? John could worry about that later on but right now, he could feel his skin heat up and his body arch into Quinn’s. The gentle suction against his neck making him cling at Quinn’s shirt before he let their lips meet again in a kiss that allowed John to fall into this newly found pleasure, his body melting into Quinn’s as he finally let himself indulge in whatever this meant for them – it didn’t matter now, not when it felt like he was right where he was supposed to be that night.
John was always stoked when he got the chance to spend some time with Sanem but they hadn’t really gotten to yet after the wedding which led to him desperately trying to find a time that’d work for the two of them, so they could catch up a little. Goldilox & the 3 Bagels always seemed like a solid choice and John was more than happy to meet Sanem there for a quick bite and a quick check-in.
With the two of them settled across from each other, John couldn’t help but beam at her, even more so when his eyes fell on the beautiful ring that finally graced her finger and he reached out tentatively, taking her hand in his to bring it in a little closer so he could get a better look. “It’s gorgeous,” the man mumbled, genuine awe lacing his tone before his eyes met Sanem’s again. “So – how does it feel to be a married woman?” He teased lightheartedly.
