Little Boy Lost

by Merry Amelie

Title: Little Boy Lost
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Angst, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: PG
Summary: How had it come to this?
Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 90

I'm posting Arcadia and Q/O drabbles to TPM 100: http://community.livejournal.com/tpm100/

A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/master-apprentice/files/

My MA story page: http://www.masterapprentice.org/cgi-bin/qs.cgi?keyword=Merry+Amelie

Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

For
My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex and Ula

Quinn had never known the world without his parents' love.

Thirty-five years wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and happiness, the role of ideal son the only price to pay. He had never found the cost too high until meeting Ian.

Before that, it had been easy to conform and perform for them. He'd concentrated on his career and pretended that his non-existent personal life was the result of overwork. Easy to avoid questions then, since the most important thing to them was academic success.

He had been the focus of their attention between conferences and classes, his birthright as an only child. Mature and big for his age, he'd always been comfortable in adult company, very much the precocious darling.

Though not as demonstrative as Ian's family, the Mastersons loved each other dearly. He had felt it in each touch, in every conversation. He didn't realize how much he'd counted on it until he was cut off from the source.

Saturday afternoons were the hardest for him. He missed the times Dad would greet him with an espresso, and he'd smell Mom's brownies before he reached the kitchen. He wanted to watch Luke football with his dad and parse Cheever with his mom again. Sighing, he remembered their laughter when she'd tried to teach him bridge.

He missed his childhood room, too, off limits to him now. He used to go there and play his old Pink Floyd vinyl records, flopping on the worn green rug by his bed. He'd had it since kindergarten, and liked to run his fingers through the pulls made by Chewy, his first stray.

He'd wanted Ian beside him on the rug too, feeling at home, just as he did in Padua. He could close his eyes and believe he'd grown up with his lad as the perfect playmate.

Though he'd not been blessed with Ian's company then, his lad more than made up for it now. Ian knew how to start each Saturday right. Somehow, his husband was always up before him, waking him gradually with kisses and nuzzles, which kept his problems at bay. Making love with Ian was an all-encompassing adventure.

Later, after a breakfast of Ian's cinnamon French toast, they'd head to Padua for game day. Scrabble, Monopoly, and dominoes, games he'd rarely played with his parents, were on the menu there.

He'd never really believed his mom and dad would find out, though Ian and he had grown exponentially bolder through their years together. He just could not imagine them knowing about him, after decades immersed in their simmering prejudice. He couldn't fathom it would ever be turned upon him. How had it come to this?

He could not exonerate himself, he thought ruefully. He'd never trusted them enough to level with them, and bring the deception to an end. And now, they'd somehow found out and were justifiably furious at being kept in the dark.

A jaded inner voice taunted that they would have cut him off anyway. Their reaction convinced him that the past three and a half years, when he'd been blessed with romantic and familial love, had been a gift.

Concentrate on the here and now, he told himself sternly. We finally have truth between us. I still have a family, thanks to Ian.

A slow smile graced his face as he realized that from now on, he would never know the world without Ian's love.