brothers bff Quinn telling his family you’re the “love of his life” which isn’t a lie, he just happens to omit that you aren’t together YET…. so color you surprised when you find a random pic of you and him from after a game on the fridge at the lake house 😵💫
3 times you find Quinn’s favorite pictures + 1 time Quinn finds yours
1.
Your flight is delayed an hour.
You’ve made it past TSA with minimal casualties and are settled in a seat with your bag sitting next to your feet. Quinn had cut it close dropping you off and it seems his speeding has been nullified. Not that it matters anyway. Every cop in the city and adjacent cities wave off any traffic violations from players.
With time to kill, you dig through your bag until you find the book Quinn loaned you. He’d finished it the night before and raved about it so your expectations are high.
The book automatically opens to the midway point and something brushes your hand as it falls out. You lean over to pick it up, expecting a regular bookmark.
Instead, it’s a photo.
The date on the back is fairly recent. If you’re remembering it correctly, it’s the day of his debut game. You flip it over, prepared to see him in that cowboy hat.
You blink. It’s a picture of the two of you after the game. He convinced you to wear one of the jerseys the team provided for his family and it hangs on you like it should belong to someone else.
The puck from his goal is held close to your face as you smile at the camera, wide enough that most of your teeth are on display. You’d been practically vibrating with excitement when he met you afterwards. Throwing your arms around him and pulling him into a hug felt natural given the pressure on him to perform had you queasy up until he scored. That goal was as much for you as it was for him.
You trace the puck. Try as you might, you’ve never been able to outgrow the incessant worry you felt for Nasir or Quinn before games.
He’s grinning but with less intensity than you. His arm rests around you, pulling you close. A wired exhaustion makes his expression brighter and satisfaction softens the lines by his eyes.
You remember how happy he was that night.
Huh. What about that? He’s grown sentimental over the years.
2.
You’re in Detroit for work which means you’re having dinner at the Hughes’.
The conversation feels strangely loaded throughout the meal. You’ve known Quinn’s parents nearly as long as you’ve known him so it’s always been easy to talk to them about anything. Ellen is personable and Jim is quick to laugh but tonight feels different in a way you can’t put your finger on.
You help clean up despite Ellen’s insistence that her and Jim can handle it and you shoo them out of the kitchen so you can wash the dishes. They’d been the ones to pick you up from the airport and drop you off at your client meeting, waiting until you finished to take you back. The least you can do is tidy up.
You’re filling up your cup when you notice the pictures on the fridge. There are so many different family members scattered across the door though the boys dominate most of the space. There’s even a picture of Nasir and Quinn, arms wrapped around each other and bandanas in their hair.
You skim through the other photos, amused at all the ones you know Jack would be embarrassed about if they were to ever see the light of day. You pull out your phone, ready to take a picture and send it to him when one photo gives you pause.
It’s you and Quinn. From New Years.
Except this captures the moment when you went from tipsy to drunk. He’s laughing as he tries to take away your drink and all you do is cling to him, a whine likely on your lips as you try to keep it from him.
“You guys are so cute,” Ellen says from behind. “I keep telling Quinn to send more but he’s so stingy.”
Your dinner sits heavy in your stomach.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one,” you say with a strained smile.
You don’t think you’ve seen the things you should’ve been paying attention to either.
3.
Quinn’s in the shower when the food comes.
You grab his wallet as you head to the door. Slipping out a couple bills, you exchange them for the food and thank the delivery man.
The water’s still running so you sit down, placing the bag on top of the counter. There’s no reason why you start thumbing through his wallet other than boredom.
You’re surprised he had cash to begin with but he told you he always kept some on him in the off chance he’d need it. You’re less surprised at the condom you find and bypass it accordingly.
Everything else is pretty standard and you shake your head at his driver’s license as you always do. He’s never cared too much for how he looks in photos which is admirable because you think he rolled out of bed and went straight to the DMV for this one.
Something flimsy bends behind it as you push the plastic back in. Curious, you carefully dig out the worn plasticky paper.
It’s an old picture of you. And Nasir technically but Quinn’s folded the photo so only you appear.
You’re at the lake, sunglasses placed atop your head and arms wrapped around your knees. There’s the faintest sheen of sunscreen on your skin, highlighted by the dying rays of the day. You’re smiling for whoever’s behind the camera—your best friend Maisy most likely—while your brother pulls an ugly face that he knows will piss you off once Maisy turns the phone around to show you.
It’s from when Quinn and Jack first bought their house. But you don’t remember sending this picture to Quinn. Nasir certainly but this is not the type of thing you’d send in your groupchat with them.
And even if you had, it doesn’t explain why Quinn has it printed. Or why it’s in his wallet.
You’re painfully aware of how your breathing picks up. Your fingers tremble as you tuck the photo back behind his license, praying he won’t notice it’s been disturbed.
You need to leave.
You needed to leave months ago.
+1
“You still have this?”
Quinn peers over you and to the side of your vanity. There are six Polaroids you keep tucked in the frame. The earliest one is from twelve years ago while the newest one is from last year. The one Quinn’s pointing out is from around seven years ago during his first full season in Vancouver.
“Why wouldn’t I?” you say, glancing up at him.
He leans closer then plucks the photo from its spot, scowling. “Because I look stupid,” he complains, flattening the corner he’s accidentally pushed back.
“Don’t say that,” you say, affronted. “I love that picture.”
The adjustment to the NHL had been a brutal one on Quinn. You spent months on calls with him where he wouldn’t admit what was bothering him so you elected to end both of your suffering and book a flight to Vancouver.
It’d been a fun trip. He wasn’t familiar with Vancouver enough to take you around the city just yet but you managed to visit all of the places he’d been meaning to check out.
The Polaroid in question is one you forced Quinn to take with you. The two of you were wearing matching sheet masks and Quinn’s hair was pushed back with your headband. He looks more sulky than anything while you smile next to him but you think it’s a cute picture.
“You were such a brat back then,” you muse, pinching his cheek. “It took me physically going there for you to finally just say you were homesick.” And having a hard time but Quinn hates being reminded of that period.
Quinn groans, ducking away. “Because it was embarrassing.”
“It was just me, Quinny,” you say, turning back to your makeup.
Your brother’s coming in tonight and you need to hide how much you’ve been crying over the news lest he get an even bigger head. Quinn came over before you got the call, adrenaline thrumming under his skin as he vaguely asked if you had talked to Nasir today.
He let you chant ‘oh my god’ a million times with you slapping at his thigh as Nasir spoke. Your hand rested on his thigh at one point, too focused on listening to Quinn and your brother talk about what to expect and how Nasir will have to hit the ground running with the playoffs looming ahead.
“Exactly,” Quinn mutters, almost too quietly for you to pick up. “That was the problem.”
