by
Fandom: Reign of Fire
Rating: R
Pairing: Jarod/Quinn
Author's Note: After seeing the movie, I think that Jarod had a crush on Quinn. My muses showed up and I explored.
Copyright and Disclaimer: Reign of Fire and the characters from the movie are copyright Barber-Birnam/Spyglass. I make no claims to ownership or creation. This bit of not for profit modern folklore (thank you Prof. Jenkins) is mine.
"Eh?" came the sleep-groggy reply.
"I'm cold, and I'm having a nightmare. Can I —?" Oh thank goodness his voice didn't crack.
After a moment came a deep bone-weary sigh, and the sound of the covers being flipped back.
Victory! Jarod hustled across the frigid darkness and all but leapt into warmth of Quinn's narrow bed. Quinn was clearly expecting someone else, a small child, not a teen-age boy, because he stiffened, and after a short, shocked silence said, "Jarod?!"
"Yes," Jarod said a little sheepishly. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment and excitement and was grateful for the darkness that hid his pink cheeks.
Quinn seemed to shrug a bit and then said, "It's been a long time."
Jarod nodded in the darkness — as if Quinn could see — but that didn't matter because Quinn had already pretty much drifted back into sleep while Jarod lay next to him, heart pounding, scarcely believing that he had mustered the audacity to do this. Gads, but he hadn't crawled into bed with Quinn, hadn't needed to, since he was 9, and that was 6 years ago. But that was Quinn for you, always room in his bed for any kid having dragon dreams.
Except Jarod wasn't having dragon dreams.
He was ... well, he didn't know what he wanted. He couldn't even explain what half-baked notion had given him the motive to see if he could get away with this. Jarod just wanted to be around Quinn, a lot lately. All the time, really. He loved Quinn, and Quinn loved him. It was as simple and complex as that. A 15 year old Quinn had found a sobbing 3 year old boy in the ruins of a burnt out building and had cared for him ever since. Quinn treated him like a cross between a little brother and a son, and Quinn had taught Jarod everything he knew about how to lead and organize people, like the way that people trained their sons to take over a business back in the pre-burn days.
And Jarod loved Quinn back, with all his heart. But lately his love for Quinn, and the way he thought about Quinn had started changing in ways that both frightened and exhilarated him.
Shifting in the bed, trying not to touch Quinn with his ice-cold feet, Jarod remembered the day last year when he had joined Van Zan's Archangels and the hurt and betrayed look on Quinn's face. He had wanted Quinn to understand, but Quinn didn't. Jarod also thought about the day he had swallowed his angry pride and come back to Quinn in the ruined garden. Even now he could smell the dampness, the wet char, and even the smell of the "fire roasted tomatoes" that Quinn was hoping to salvage. When he joined the Archangels, he had thought Van Zan, with all his strut and swagger a real man and Quinn a coward for not taking the fight directly to the dragons. But it wasn't until he saw Quinn in the garden that Jarod fully understood that Quinn was a better leader and a stronger man than Van Zan had ever been or ever could be. A real man sacrificed his pride if it kept his people fed. Van Zan had no understanding of the less glamorous burdens of leadership.
Things had been different between them ever since. Quinn treated him like an adult now — mostly.
Rolling on to his side, Jarod backed into Quinn's warmth. He wanted Quinn to see him as a man.
Jarod thought about Quinn, the man, all the time. These days when Quinn was near, Jarod couldn't stop thinking about the way the hair curled at the nape of his neck. Or his broad shoulders, and all that lean muscle on his chest and legs. Or his hands ... ohgod ... yesterday, while deep in thought, Quinn kept stroking his beard and Jarod barely heard a word he said about how to rig the irrigation lines because he found the motion of Quinn's strong but supple hands so fascinating.
He shifted a little, hoping to ease the insistent throbbing between his legs and behind him, Quinn grunted a little in his sleep. Jarod closed his eyes and tried to think of something else. Irrigation pipes. Sanitation (god, but Quinn was big on that), Maurya Baxter ....
.... it was happening! Ohgod. Quinn was touching him and he was touching Quinn back, and he could smell Quinn, that musky earthy smell, and Jarod was gasping, crying, biting at Quinn's neck, drinking in the way that made Quinn just groan and digging the salty taste of Quinn, arms wrapped around each other, as they slid together, skin on skin, harder, faster, good, better, best.
Oh fuck. Oh motherfucking, dragonflaming, shitsucking fuck.
It was a dream. He had just come all over himself and since he had rolled over in the night, the same sticky wetness was now soaking into Quinn. Maybe if he just rolled over real slow ... Jarod cracked an eye open and looked up. Shocked blue eyes bored into his a split second before Quinn bolted out of bed into the frosty morning air. Jarod yanked the covers back over his head and buried his face in the pillow, willing himself not to cry. Where was a dragon when you needed one to come along and burn you to a crisp?
He felt as much as heard Quinn come back and sit on the bed. "Jarod?" Quinn's voice was gentle, as was the hand on his shoulder through the blankets. He wasn't angry, thank god. Taking a deep breath, Jarod rolled over and steeling himself to be a man, pulled the covers down from his face. Quinn's eyes were ... concerned, compassionate, and a bit knowing. He shivered a little from the cold, and from the way his jaw clenched, it could only be to hold back teeth chatters. Fuck, Jarod thought, he must be freezing. "Here," Quinn said, proffering a clean bit of flannel, "why don't you ... uh ... get cleaned up a bit, and then we'll get dressed and take a walk before the rest of the castle wakes, okay?"
Woodenly, Jarod nodded.
Under any other circumstances, it would've been a thrill to wear Quinn's clothes. Jarod would have snuck little sniffs of Quinnsmell all day long. But now he just felt mostly sick as he and Quinn walked, frost bleached grass crunching beneath their feet, to the hill next to the castle compound. When they got to the summit, Quinn turned to him and said, "Look, I know how embarrassed you must be, but it's perfectly natural for a boy your age to have dreams like that, to start becoming interested in girls—"
Jarod's stomach lurched with a peculiar mixture of heartbreak and relief at the words. He wanted to cry because Quinn just had no idea, yet ohthankgod Quinn had no idea.
" — and I just want to remind you that this means you'll be taking on a lot of responsibilities." Quinn grabbed his shoulders, eyes boring into Jarod's. "No babies. I mean it, Jarod. No babies and no getting married before you're 25. We need to keep our populations stable until we start reliably getting good crops in. There's all sorts of other ways to have have fun —"
"Yes, Quinn," Jarod said, blushing furiously, "We've discussed it with some of the grown-ups — having fun responsibly and all, and that sex isn't love."
"Good." After a moment Quinn gave a sly grin and asked, "So, who was she? Who do you have your eye on?"
Oh shit.
"Er, Maurya." He blurted. It was true. He did have his eye on Maurya, a bit, but then again, so did just about every other teenaged boy in the compound. All the boys Jarod's age knew that Maurya like to have fun ... if you were willing to return the favor.
Quinn frowned a little. "Look, just be careful."
Jarod groaned and rolled his eyes. "Right enough." He then decided to put Quinn on the spot because he didn't think he could bear any more conversation about himself. "So, when are you and Alex going to partner? You're 27. You can get married now. And she likes you. She likes you a lot — I can tell."
The expression in Quinn's eyes grew distant and troubled as he turned away, eyes scanning the empty horizon ahead. After a moment he turned back to Jarod, gave a half-hearted smile, and said, "I love Alex. She's a good woman. She's brave. She's resourceful. She's an excellent teacher. I don't know why, I can't think of a single good reason not to, but I'm not in love with her. I should be. I know it. She's a wonderful friend to me, but she's just not the one, and I don't want to marry her if I can't give her that kind of love. I don't want to cheat her. She deserves more than I can give her."
Inside, Jarod did a wild happy dance. He knew it! Outside he kept his expression solemn. "And you don't want to cheat yourself, either." He had seen happily partnered couples, and he had also seen people who were not in love and what it did to their union.
Quinn nodded. "I don't know what it is, Jarod. Maybe it's all the work I do, all the responsibility, caring for all the kids, teaching you to be, I hope, a good man, your own man, but I've never really wanted a wife. Never gave it much thought." He chuckled mirthlessly, "Never had the time to give it much thought, I guess."
A lot had changed in the past four years. A lot had stayed the same.
The next settlement of any size was still a good week's travel away. Some traders had started to come by two or three times a year. Quinn had managed to get his hands on few sheep, and through trial and error (and hoo-boy was there a lot of error) they'd managed to card, spin, and weave the wool their small flock produced.
Quinn had also decided to start a school and a library. Books. He hunted down books with a passion that intrigued Jarod, who had never been much given to reading. On the other hand, if it hadn't been for Quinn's book hunting, they'd never have figured out how to set up a loom, much less spin their scratchy wool into thread. Traders had gotten the word out, and over the past 3 years, a small handful of people, about 30 or so, had trickled in. Teachers, skilled laborers, even a few elderly scientists who had managed to survive the burn. The children had the job of writing down what they said. Writing. Quinn was adamant that not all of the old knowledge be lost. "No need to reinvent the bloody wheel" he was fond of saying; as well as "I want to light a candle against the coming darkness."
Alex had gotten married to Ajay. Jarod didn't know exactly what passed between Quinn and Alex that summer night about two years ago, but Alex had left Quinn's room in tears. Whatever it was, she must have forgiven him because she was still here, still his friend. Like Jarod, she was Quinn's other lieutenant — still making her rounds of the abbey, clipboard in hand, despite a seven month pregnancy. Jarod chuckled at the thought that Quinn fretted and doted on Alex nearly as much as Ajay. Sometimes it was hard to tell who wanted the baby more, Alex and Ajay, or Quinn.
Jarod had changed, putting on nearly half a foot in height and nearly 50 pounds of solid muscle. He had thought about growing a beard but found them hot and itchy, even in winter. He had no idea how Quinn could stand it.
For the past six months he had worked himself nearly to dropping before climbing into bed. It helped, some.
Quinn still asked him which girl he fancied.
These days Quinn had a few more worry lines across his drawn and sensitive features, not to mention a few more crow's feet around his eyes. He still slept in quarters that were slightly apart from everybody else's. He still had no woman, nor showed any particular interest in any that came his way. Oh, he flirted in his kind (and slightly shy) way with all of them, but it never went any further than that.
Stretching a kink out of his shoulders, Jarod hefted his hoe and started in on the next row. He liked taking an hour or two out in the fields everyday. Quinn had instilled the value of hard work in him. Jarod also liked it because it gave him time to think without thinking. In one of the books Quinn made him read was a story about a computer designer, a genius, who, when he got stuck on a problem, went into his back yard and dug a hole for a few hours while his subconscious worked on the problem. In the council today, Quinn had charged him with coming up with a plan to manage the growth of the sheep herd, and Jarod had mulled over several options before picking up his hoe and heading for the fields.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, he stripped off his shirt, tying it about his waist. (They hadn't yet made a really good batch of soap, so no reason to get his shirt needlessly smelly.) By the end of his time in the fields hopefully he wouldn't feel so ground down, and he would have some new ideas about the sheep, or the harvest, or expansion of the compound — ideas he could share with Quinn and Alex.
"Thought I'd find you out, here, Jarod." It was Quinn. He couldn't, Jarod noticed, quite keep eye contact. He pretended not to notice the way Quinn's gaze kept darting across his body, before those blue eyes locked with his again. Jarod chuckled to himself. At least on one level Quinn acknowledged him as a good looking man and reacted accordingly. He placed the hoe across his shoulders, looping his arms over the haft. There. No reason for Quinn not to have the best view possible.
Quinn knelt down and scooped up a handful of rich earth, inhaling its aroma with gusto. "Ah, it's going to be a good year, Jarod." He clapped Jarod on the arm. "You still got your eye on Maurya?"
Inwardly Jarod groaned as he unslung the hoe. Maurya. Always fucking Maurya; Quinn couldn't let her go, didn't notice that Jarod hadn't talked to her in weeks. He opened his mouth to give the standard response, but then, goaded by a mounting rage and frustration he heretofore had buried, Jarod abruptly changed his course of action. Sucking in a deep breath he said in a flat, almost stony voice, "No."
Quinn gave a relieved sigh, "Good." Clapping a comradely arm around Jarod's shoulder, he said in a confidential tone, "Between you and me, I never much liked her. You'll meet the right woman, Jarod, one of these days." He reached up and affectionately ruffled Jarod's hair, fingers lingering a split second too long for just casual contact.
Flaming little chance of that, Quinn, Jarod thought, then replied, "Well, actually, Quinn, I never much liked her myself. I just went with her because it was easy."
Quinn nodded, understanding, not judging.
Jarod continued, "I've actually had my eye on someone else for a while now."
Quinn brightened. "Really?! Who?"
"You." And with that, Jarod gave the thoroughly shocked Quinn a quick kiss on the lips.
Frantically backpedaling, arms flailing, Quinn eventually tripped over a clod of turf and sat down, hard. Eyes huge, almost like those of a rabbit caught in a snare, he goggled up at Jarod and stammered, "B-but, but — you can't!"
His voice cool, almost cold in fact, Jarod said, "Why not?"
Vocalizing incoherently, trying to get several different conflicting statements out at once, Quinn took Jarod's proffered hand and climbed to his feet, frantically brushing the damp earth from his trousers and tunic. Jarod had to admit that he took a bit of childish pleasure in seeing the great Quinn Abercromby so utterly and completely discombobulated.
Jarod took the initiative. "Look, Quinn." He cupped Quinn's chin in his hand and turned Quinn's face towards him. "I'm not stupid and I'm not blind. I know about you and Creedy. I know how you felt when he took a wife, and I know that you never stopped loving him. Besides," Jarod couldn't quite keep the grin from the edges of his mouth, "I wasn't always so sound asleep when you two were fumbling about in the dark back when I was a little boy." Quinn's face flamed in response, and Jarod gently caressed Quinn's cheek with the back of his hand. "You could have any woman you want. But you never do. You never show anything more than polite interest." Swallowing hard, he continued, "Creedy's dead, Quinn. I know a part of you died the day he did. But it's time for you to start really living again.
"And finally, " Jarod said, a hint of the frustration he felt coloring his voice, "I'm not that little boy you found any more. You're not my father. You're not my brother. You're no blood of mine. I've had an adult's responsibility since I was 15, and now I'm 19, a man full grown. And let me tell you, I can have any woman I want, but the only reason I ever went with Maurya or any of the other girls is that sometimes it's nice to feel another person touching you, even though you're pretending it's somebody else." Jarod leaned in and gave Quinn another quick but tender kiss on the cheek. "Wake up, Quinn. I'm not much interested in women. I never have been."
Quinn's mouth opened and closed several times before he said, "But, Jarod, some boy, I mean, a man, your age —"
"No one's interested."
"B-but, what will everyone —"
"Oh fuck what everyone thinks!" Jarod shouted, finally losing his handle on his temper. "You know, Quinn, the fact that you're even worried about what others think means that you're thinking about it — that you want there to be something between us."
Woodenly Quinn nodded.
"So what's the problem? It's not like you're some pervert or I'm some helpless kid. And those that can't open their minds to this, well, isn't there another settlement down the road?"
Quinn chortled and smiled a bit wanly. "Seems I've taught you how to argue reasonably and logically a bit too well, Jarod."
Jarod felt an ear to ear grin split his face.
"But," Quinn continued, "Let's take this slow right now. I don't think the entire settlement needs to know just yet. It would put a lot of pressure on us right off the bat."
Jarod thought about it. That made sense. Besides, it was all well and good to agree with Quinn right now, but that didn't mean he couldn't, wouldn't, force the issue. Heh. Throwing his arm around Quinn's shoulder, feeling suddenly as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders — a weight he hadn't realized was there to begin with — he said, "Eh, let's head in. Time for luncheon. I think there's pea-soup and some raspberry leaf tea for today."
Slinging his over shirt off and letting it fall to the floor, Jarod shook his head and said, "No, nothing like that."
Quinn sighed, marked his place in the book, and set it amongst all the other books and papers heaped on the table beside his bed. "Jarod, I thought we agreed to take this slowly."
Jarod squared his shoulders and fixed Quinn with a direct stare. "We did, " he said softly, "but I know you, Quinn." He crossed to the bed and sat on the chest at the foot of it, rubbing his hands together in thought for a few moments before saying, "Even though you're the bravest man I know, about this, you'll be an incredible coward."
"Now wait a minute —" Quinn interjected, taken aback, but Jarod cut him off.
"Let me guess, Quinn. Some hand holding. The brotherly arm around the shoulder. Picnics and meals together. Tokens of affection. Even the occasional kiss. Stringing me along, but all the while hoping that what you think is some hero worship infatuation thing will finally fizzle out, and then you can do the honorable thing and let me go — untouched — into the arms of my true love." Like a large cat, Jarod crawled across the bed, pinning Quinn beneath him. Face to face, Jarod studied Quinn for a moment, and softly, his words little more than a breath, said, "Well, that's not going to happen, Quinn. There's a new plan." He sat back and pulled his shirt off, silently drinking in Quinn's reaction, and the desire in his eyes. With a triumphant, almost mocking smile, Jarod leaned in and whispered, "The plan is that when I leave in the morning you'll see that I'm every inch a man grown."
A ragged breath slipped out from between Quinn's lips. He looked like a man dragonfrozen: motionless, desperate, but also accepting the inevitability of it all.
Jarod grinned and swooped in for the kiss.
He had expected something quick and rough in its urgency — a bit like he and Creedy at times. Instead, Jarod had shown gentleness and restraint remarkable for a 19 year old man as his hands (and later his lips) had deftly, slowly, explored every inch of Quinn's body until finally Quinn couldn't hold back any longer and he rolled, pinning the younger man beneath him, frantically rubbing and thrusting until they both came.
After wiping them both dry, Jarod had continued with his exploration of Quinn's body, urging him to reciprocate. With hands that actually trembled slightly, Quinn did what he had not done for nearly 7 years: explored the beauty of another man's body. Hesitant and unsure at first, but with growing confidence, he slid his hands across broad shoulders, followed the sleek contours of muscle down to lean flanks, curled his fingers in the crinkly hair on Jarod's chest before finally taking him in his mouth. The taste — bitter salty musky — how he had loved that taste that simply said man to every cell in his body. Parts of him long since put to sleep came roaring out of hibernation, and Quinn surprised both of them with his voraciousness.
Freeing a hand from where it lay trapped between their bodies and the tangle of blankets, Quinn traced over a hickey on Jarod's collarbone with a feather light touch. He smiled a bit at the knowledge that he had done this, and he rather liked the thought of Jarod beneath him, gasping and twisting with pleasure. He looked forward to putting another mark on Jarod ... of course he would need to use some discretion.
And therein lay the pinch, Quinn thought as he stared up at what remained of the cream colored plaster on the ceiling. Alex and Ajay he could tell right off. No worries there. But everybody else? What new crop of problems would this bring?
But at the same time as all of this doubt welled up in him, an equally strong and very different emotion surged up and hammered it down. A part of him wanted to fling open the shutters and shout to the world, "Jarod made love to me last night! I haven't been this happy in years! It was wonderful!"
"What are you thinking about?" Jarod's soft voice brought Quinn back to earth.
Quinn rolled on his side and studied Jarod for a few moments, then said, "I'm a little worried what will happen. What everyone will think."
"And?" Jarod's voice was stony.
"And, " Quinn said, pinning the somewhat surprised Jarod beneath him, "I'm happier than I've been in a long time." Hungrily he kissed Jarod, wanting to remove any trace of doubt from his mind.
When they finally broke, Jarod sucked in a ragged gasp of air and said, "Well, there's that. Let's get out of bed and get a start on the day."
"I've a better idea," Quinn said, his blue eyes glowing, "let's stay in bed another 30 minutes and then get a start on the rest of our lives."
Last Updated: 3/11/2004