They were perhaps the most pathetic people at the Valentineâs fair. One not wanting to sulk alone and the other tired of being holed up in bed with the flu (why was it gratifying that KJâs conspicuous absence had been caused by the flu rather than avoiding Quinn⊠or finding somebody at the hockey camp to, well, he could kill that train of thought with a mental machete).Â
It had been a long time since heâd been able to deal with KJ for more than twenty minutes without either fighting or hooking up. Quinn was not liking the odds on this whole handcuff fiasco, particularly not when he was a bonehead sometimes and forgot about KJâs economic background. âFair enough, I have no idea how much a locksmith costs.â He was usually pretty good with his keys, and one of his parents usually had a spare at their apartment, so he had never had to find out.
Whether they liked it or not, unless they got really desperate, they were going to be stuck dealing with each other. It was just easier to try to not be in the same places than to actually deal with all of the emotional crap that neither of them were any good with. If they could get through tonight pretending nothing was seriously wrong with them, Quinn supposed that that would be a victory. And that would only be possible if, like KJ suggested, they call it a truce. Even if Quinn wanted so very badly to correct him and tell him that it couldnât be a truce because there was nothing to have a truce over. âIâd say âshake on itâ but, well.â He shrugged.
Maybe Jordyn had a point about him being a very stupid teenager. Even if she, too, was a very stupid teenager.
âCoffee sounds good,â Quinn said. Better than sitting around on a bench trying to not look conspicuously handcuffed together. âSafer than trying to skate with these on,â Quinn added. The handcuffs were really going to throw a wrench into their plans. Which had at one point been separate.Â
They made their way through the clustered groups of people toward the coffee stand. It was a shame that calling a truce didnât kill all of the awkward. Maybe Quinn was just an awkward person, but he was pretty sure that it was kind of like throwing water on pure sodium - perfectly fine until the ceiling lights on fire.Â
KJ was glad that Quinn agreed to his suggestion easily. He didnât really have the energy to try to convince the other that it was for the best. In fact, it probably would have ended in a fight about not fighting. Not that he was totally sure they could get through this without arguing regardless but it was worth a try. At the very least KJ could pretend things were fine.Â
KJ couldnât help but laugh at Quinnâs comment. They theoretically could handshake but it would only add to the awkwardness of the situation with one person basically having to bring both hands forward. âThen, pinky promise,â KJ said, hooking pinkies with Quinn and holding up their cuffed hands. âNo fighting and no life threatening attempts at escape,â he reiterated. Though, KJ couldnât help but feel that it was more a promise at an attempt rather than an actual promise not to do it. The two of them were like ticking time bombs around each other. It wasnât about if one of them would act, it was when. Acting usually involved fighting, hooking up, or both in any order.Â
He had to agree with Quinn on the whole no skating thing. âWhat?? You mean you donât want to hold hands with me while skating lovingly in slow circles?â KJ teased. Not that, that would prevent an injury either. Plus, if they held hands thatâd just be begging for people to ask questions KJ wasnât prepared to answer. âAre you two dating?â, âdo you like each other?â, etc. There wasnât a simple response to any of that. So, dropping Quinnâs finger from his, KJ gathered the things heâd unceremoniously thrown earlier, âCoffee it is.â Â
He let Quinn lead him through the crowd of people congregated around the rink trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Maybe theyâd all be too wrapped up in their own lovey-dovey grossness to notice the handcuff jingling between the pair. Or maybe theyâd just think KJ and Quinn were into some weird kinky shit and leave the two alone. Not that, that was ideal but it was something.Â
Arriving at the coffee stand, the two placed their orders. âMy treat,â KJ said retrieving his wallet from his back pocket with his free hand before Quinn could protest. KJ did, maybe kind of, feel bad about the situation. And it was, partially sort of, his fault. If he hadnât been stupid enough to follow Jordyn and assume her innocence they wouldnât have been in this situation in the first place.Â
Coffee in hand, KJ shifted on his feet a little bit. At least when they were fighting, or hooking up, they werenât awkward as hell. He hadnât thought much past getting their coffee and now that weird space was settling between them again. Small talk wasnât really their thing. Normally KJ would hit on Quinn unapologetically, whether he meant it or not, but he deemed that inappropriate at the moment. Flirting led to fighting and that was a no-go today. âSo uh... the weather, amirite?â he laughed awkwardly, taking a sip of his too hot coffee. Good one KJ.Â
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