Archive of Our Own

"It was just '17, if you know what I mean," Ian sang in his beautiful tenor voice.

He and Quinn were in their office at Taton Hall on Tuesday at the unfortunate time of 10:42 pm, having worked throughout the day. Luckily, Artoo and Sandy were staying overnight at the Changs, so they could get plenty of love and treats.

The last time the men had taken a break was when Quinn had gotten a light meal for both of them at Billaba's almost five hours earlier. His courtliness, even on a routine food run, touched Ian -- Quinn had remembered to ask for extra grape leaves, a favorite of Ian's. He still had a faint taste of the galaxy's best falafel on his tongue.

And now Ian had finally broken the monotony of their work with his adapted serenade from 'I Saw Her Standing There' by The Beatles. Little did Quinn know that Ian was singing about Valentine's Day 2017, and that he had a little something special for his herven as a treat, to put the finishing touch on Quinn's thoughtful dinner.

But Ian knew, and that made his eyes shine all the brighter.

Quinn looked up from his seemingly infinite stack of papers to give his laddie a tired smile. "Thanks for the serenade, mo gra (my love)," he said, barely suppressing a yawn.

"I've got something better that will wake you up," said Ian insouciantly, letting Quinn believe it would be his kiss. He got up and sauntered over to Quinn's desk. He leaned down to give his love a kiss fit for the holiday, then followed it up with a lick to one of the bumps on his husband's nose.

"Mmmmm," Quinn said happily. "Best thing to get me goin' since my last cappuccino." He pulled Ian down for another kiss, with a detour to the galaxy's most-nuzzled dimple.

Ian grinned at him in pure delight. "Me too, ma handsome and then some." He ran his lips over Quinn's chestnut hair, then sat on the desk, kicking his feet, shod in dress Clarks, exuberantly against the cherrywood drawers.

Quinn subconsciously mirrored Ian's beat with his hands, drumming his fingers on the armrests of his chair. "How's your grading goin'?"

"Just finished my lecture notes for the Hawthorne course. The rest'll keep for a couple of days." Ian was practically vibrating in place, because he was looking forward to sharing his surprise with Quinn as soon as he possibly could, now that it seemed like Quinn was finally ready to take another break.

"That's grand, laddie. I'm still grading essays on 'A Room with a View', but I can't stand looking at one more dangling participle," Quinn said. Forster was one of his favorite writers, but his red pen must have been running out of ink by now.

Ian almost said, "I have a fine example to show you when we get home," but one look at Quinn's professorial face made him think better of it. He practically could hear Quinn saying, "Not in the office, please." But there was plenty of time to tease Quinn later on. After all, there was still almost an hour and a half of the holiday left for them to celebrate.

Grateful for Ian's restraint, Quinn said, "Let's take a breather." He gave out a great yawn, one which would make Aslan proud.

"Just what I hoped you'd say," said Ian. "As I said, I was planning on giving you an even better way to wake up."

"Nothing's as potent as your kisses, darlin'," Quinn said with a gratifying certainty, as he gave Ian a wink.

Ian winked back, thrilled by Quinn's compliment. "Quite an honor after almost fourteen years, mo chridhe (my heart)." He rose from the desk, but not before Quinn gave a lingering touch to his cheek. "Be back in a few." With that, he strolled out of their office.

Quinn's curiosity was set on high. What could his lad be bringing him? He felt like a kid again, with all of the anticipation of opening a gift which was festively wrapped.

Ian walked up the empty corridor to the stairwell, his shoes clattering on the wooden floor, and went down the steps to the first-floor office of the English Department. He had borrowed an extra key from Case's secretary Jessica to get in at this hour, when the office was long deserted. She had all but swooned when she found out about Ian's gift for Quinn, especially since her husband had left a small box of Ferrero Rocher hazelnut chocolates as a surprise in her pocketbook today, so she knew how it felt to be cherished on this day for lovers.

Ian went to the mini-fridge in the kitchenette next to Case's private office and got out his piece de la resistance for Valentine's Day. He had ordered it from the Brea Bakery on the main street of Alder Run and brought it into work in a file case, with Quinn none the wiser. The only catch was that it needed to be refrigerated, so he'd brought it here this morning in its box.

Ian had gone to all of this trouble for a Valentine cake with all of Quinn's favorites inside and out -- vanilla icing with a coating of rich dark chocolate drizzled over it; blue flowers with green leaves decorating the top; four layers of devil's food cake, with marzipan, mocha, and apricot preserves in between them; and the most romantic touch of all, the heartwarming inscription:

"Our Road goes ever on and on,
From Windover where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And we must follow, if we can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins Templeton Way
Where our twin paths and pure love meet.
And whither then? Valentine's Day."

Ian had adapted Tolkien's lyrics from 'A Walking Song' in the 'The Lord of the Rings' for what was really a love poem to his guid-man.

He carefully held it in its box, as if he held their twin hearts in his hands. He took the elevator back to the office, so he could hold the cake in his arms most of the time, and smiled tenderly when he found Quinn asleep at his desk. He moved some papers and books over to the side, then put the cake on the desk blotter, right in front of Quinn.

It was a shame to wake him, but Ian had to do it before they could go home, anyway. Luckily, Ian had driven the Audi in today, so Quinn could afford to be sleepy in the passenger seat. Ian ran a gentle hand through Quinn's hair, which was almost as messy as his own, at this late hour. That got him a huffing sound, which turned into a snuffle when he kissed Quinn's forehead. He brushed away a strand of hair, then brushed his mouth over the same spot near Quinn's temple. When Ian kissed his chin, tickling the ten o' clock shadow there, it was finally enough to awaken his husband.

Lightsaber-blue eyes crinkled open to smile at Ian. "Hello there, laddie."

"Got a little something sweet for you, ma herven," said Ian, smiling right back. He patted the cake box enticingly.

Quinn's eyes lit up even more. "Who knows the way to my sweet tooth better than you, mo stor (my darling)?"

"How about Prudence and Violet?" Ian said, all but guffawing with laughter when he saw the astounded look on Quinn's face. His husband clearly hadn't expected this answer, what with his rhetorical question. "Got you there, huh?" And the guffaws came shining through.

"Somehow, I wasn't thinking of our neighbors today of all days, Ian," said Quinn teasingly.

Ian beamed at him. "Happy Valentine's Day, ma gradh!"

"Happy Valentine's Day, laddie mine!" Quinn replied.

"Well, open your wee giftie, then." Ian embraced his husband from behind.

Quinn had visions of sugar crumbs dancing in his head. He untied the string from around the white cardboard box and opened it eagerly. The cake that Ian had ordered just to his taste greeted him with the scent of vanilla. The only thing that could have distracted Quinn from eating a piece was the inscription he saw in green icing on it.

"Oh, Ian!" breathed Quinn. "Never thought of combining Tolkien with dessert before." He swung the chair around slowly, so Ian could disentangle from him, and stood up to hug his Valentine.

"Can't think of a sweet that has mushrooms inside," teased Ian, but Quinn decided to kiss him anyway.

They shared a kiss that was sweet even before they started the cake.

And Quinn was still savoring the inscription. "'Until it joins Templeton Way'." He chuckled. "And the award for Best Adaptation goes to Ian Prentice."

"I can just see you at the Oscars," Ian said mischievously.

"With you on my arm, of course. We'd make quite the dashing couple." Quinn pictured it in his mind's eye.

"And you'd win Best Actor for 'Taken Out to Dinner'." Ian chortled in delight, while Quinn groaned at the dreadful play on words. "Which I'm planning to do to you over the weekend."

"Nice to have our plans already set," Quinn quipped in return. "But right now I'm thinking of dessert."

With that, they disentangled and started to prepare for their treat. Luckily, Ian had remembered to bring silverware, paper plates, and napkins. While he brewed their cappuccinos, Quinn gave him a generous piece of cake with a blue flower, a longtime favorite of his lad's, decorating it. Then he cut a slice with a vibrant green leaf on top for himself.

The cake tasted as wonderful as it looked, as Ian found out from an impetuous dip of his thumb into Quinn's icing.

They returned to their positions at Quinn's desk, but the vibe in their office had changed from workaday to celebratory. They clinked their mugs of cappuccino fancifully. Eating the cake in slow enjoyment, both of them were remembering all of the happy Valentine's Days they'd spent together. At work, at play, at home, at restaurants, on vacation -- memory squares of their very own quilt, created by the two of them.

Since they were at Luke, Ian resisted the impulse to get a little messy with the cake and clean Quinn up the newlywed way, with his tongue. He could see, by the spark in Quinn's eyes, that his husband knew precisely what he was thinking. With a chuckle, Quinn handed him a napkin, to head him off before he made a pass.

They saved the blue and green icing until every crumb was eaten, then finished it with their eyes shining in matching colors.

Quinn sat back in his chair, patting his stomach in contentment. "That was quite a treat. Thank you, Ian."

"You're welcome, love. And thank *you* for dinner," said Ian.

"My pleasure," Quinn replied with a soft growl.

They knew it was time to clean up, so they could drive home before they were asleep on their feet, but chatted a bit longer before they had the oomph to get up. Ian jumped off the desk and pulled Quinn up from his chair. Then Quinn washed their mugs and got some wet paper towels from the men's bathroom to clean the desk, while Ian threw the plates, utensils, and napkins into the paper bag the cake had come in and took it out to the trash bin near the elevator.

Quinn closed the cardboard lid of the bakery box and tied it up with string again, so they could take the cake home in the Gallia. He looked forward to sharing it with Ian once more, prolonging their holiday festivities.

When they were through, they gathered up the papers and books they would need for their Wednesday classes and stuffed them into their briefcases. They still had work to do at home, but it would have to wait until tomorrow morning. Just before Ian turned out the lights, he paused to give Quinn a kiss that was the icing on the cake, as well as tasting like it.

"Do you realize that this is the 14th Valentine's Day we've celebrated together?" Ian marveled.

"Not until you said so." Quinn gazed at him in wonder. "Amazin', innit? The 14th on the 14th."

Ian said, "Talk about serendipity!"

"And you've pulled off another one of your surprises, m'lad." Quinn smiled in delight.

"Oh, it was a piece of cake," said Ian with a rakish wink.

Quinn's groan could have been heard as far away as Coruscant, but he kissed Ian back anyway.