Chapter Text
Quentin took a deep breath.
”James no.”
”Why not?”
”Because I tell you so, and when I tell you not to, we won't.”
”And why is that?”
”Because you're in love with me.” Quentin shrugged his shoulders and thought how stupid that sounded. James had said it out loud once. Or twice. He had been drunk. The fact that he had said it didn't mean that he had really meant it. Now by repeating what he had said two months after the occurrence Q only made a fool of himself. Shit.
James smirked and looked away. He leaned back in his seat in the kitchen table and wondered why on earth a guy with a family would not want to meet them. Or would not want him to meet them. Was there something wrong with James? The fact that he was a man? James had a hunch that Q's family knew about that, so it probably wasn't the reason. Maybe the family was the reason. What if they were all aliens with tails and loaded handguns ready to shoot anyone going too near? They spread plague?
Quentin walked to the kitchen to prepare some tea to relieve his anxiety. He had made a complete idiot out of himself again. When he opened the cupboard an intoxicating scent surrounded him. Q had collected different tea blends since he had been nineteen and his first time in Moscow. Before that he had never taken tea even remotely seriously. He took a bag of blend that his mother gave him as birthday present every single year. It was nice creamy black tea with lemon, and it always made him feel a bit better about life.
”Could you make a cup for me too?” James asked.
”Yes. Of course.”
”Great.”
James opened the balcony door and stepped outside. The air was just as cold as you can imagine it is in November in the very heart of London. He was wearing only a grey t-shirt and old worn out pair of jeans. The wind was biting, but it helped him to calm down. The view over the city was straight from a post card. Sometimes he wondered how Quentin could be that well off and able to afford living in a flat like this one, considering that he was only a cyber safety expert. It wasn't as if he had ever spent a day in the field with real agents.
After some minutes Quentin tapped the balcony door's window glass gently with his index finger. James went in, back to the warmth. On the carpet a small siamese stretched itself and made a silent meow.
”It tries to take my place in the bed.” James nodded at the cat while holding a steaming hot blue Doctor Who -themed mug.
”Don't blame Mr. Fluffy, we both know it's not his fault.” James looked deep into the tea cup. Mr. Fluffy. Why couldn't it sleep in a basket like a regular cat? James had never had any pets. His aunt was allergic and didn't like about fish or reptiles.
”Okay, leaving that aside, you are not willing to even consider about discussing the actual problem.”
Q looked away, walked through the double doors to the light living room that was a peculiar combination of antiques and hightech, threw himself on the sofa and gazed at the roof. What was it so problematic about it? Why couldn't James just see that meeting his family wouldn't make their relationship anymore official.
”Fuck.” Q mumbled.
”I want to be with you. I want to be with you seriously. I don't want to play any of your games, you should know that I am far too old for them.” James stated as he followed him.
Q took a sip of his tea thinking how idiotic the whole situation was. It made no sense. He loved James. How to explain him why meeting the Holmes family was a terrible idea?
”What is it that I have to do to convince you? Run a marathon with your name written on my forehead with lipstick? Sing under your window and piss all the neighbours off? I feel like you are not taking me seriously.” James took couple of calm steps backwards and sat in the black armchair opposite the sofa Q was laying in. He leaned forwards sinking his head into his hands.
”I wouldn't if you'd start singing under my window. And neither would my neighbours. Really the thing is...” Q sighed deep and stared at his tea mug. ”I need you to say it. Just say it.”
”Say what?”
”Exactly.”
”Sometimes I get fucking frustrated with you, you know that Quentin? I give you everything. You want me but you wont take me. You won't say what's wrong.”
”You never say you love me.”
”That's all? And after that I will finally meet your family? And if I recall it right, I have told you I love you. I have no idea why you tell yourself I don't love you. It makes no sense. You should listen to yourself sometimes. You said just fifteen minutes ago that I love you, and that's why I obey you. I do obey. I do love. So what the fuck is this all about? Isn't it rather obvious that I'm crazy about you? Why won't you introduce me to your family? It's not like I'd grab stuff and leave tomorrow morning, or even the morning after that.”
”What difference would it make if you saw them?”
”Quite a lot. Maybe I would understand you better. ”
”Believe me you would not. It would make no difference whatsoever.”
”I find it hard to believe.”
In Q's mind it would be fair for him to not introduce the family. At least not anytime soon. He changed weekly emails with Mycroft and phoned mummy occasionally, but that was about it. James was a smart guy and probably quite well aware that on some level madness was either genetic or contagious. Maybe the real question was did James love him enough to be ready to see the Holmes family? Even though Q had spent a remarkable amount time away from home at different schools, he still had the most critical time of childhood, summers and Christmases with them. He didn't want to be like them, but somewhere deep down he knew that he was exactly like them, just in his own way. Was it possible that James could continue loving him the way he did after seeing him fighting with Sherlock or being mummy's little boy? With out being afraid that someday Q would turn out to be a walking monster? Q bet that James hadn't even thought of those things since he didn't have a family of his own.
Then he thought about it form another view. Maybe he should just take him to the Christmas dinner next month so he could see all the bonkers shit he carried with him.
”Okay. How about you'll get to enjoy the traditional Holmes' Christmas dinner?”
James raised his eyebrows of pure surprise. ”It's settled then.”