A Wedding in Arcadia #10 -- Ian's Husband

by Merry Amelie (MerryAmelie@aol.com)

Archive: MA only

Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Proprietary Quinn

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 59

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.

To Alex, Ula, and Nerowill, my friends and betas extraordinaire

Quinn woke with the sun warm on his cheeks and smiled. His lad must have opened the windows earlier that morning, for he was currently snoring on Quinn's shoulder, mouth damp against his skin. Loose-limbed after a night replete with connubial pleasure, he was content to remain Ian's pillow for the next little while. He took a deep breath, enjoying their complementary scents surrounding him. Itchy and sweaty, since he'd been too tired to clean off that last time, Quinn was too happy to focus on these minor irritants. It wasn't as if this hadn't happened before.

But everything else felt different, now that he was Ian's husband. Each proprietary feeling he'd ever had gleefully multiplied by one thousand as he gazed down at his lad. He had publically claimed Ian as his own. At last. The pride he felt in him, mixed with his ever-present love, was overpowering. This wonderful man was his, and most everyone would know it.

They were not colleagues on a business trip, buddies on a bike path stopover, or friends on a ski holiday, but newlyweds on their honeymoon. Quinn had booked them a suite as a couple, and reserved a block of rooms for their wedding. They had paid with their joint credit card, not Ian's old MasterGuard. The one huge bed was for them, nary a couch in sight. The front desk staff knew them as a couple, as did the bellhops. The housekeeper became a friendly face, no longer an adversary.

Their previous vacations had been dazzling trompe l'oeils. On both cruises, they'd had to repeatedly pull their beds apart to deflect the knowing eyes of the stewards. At the Echo Ski Lodge in Hotham, Ian had made a game of mussing pristine flannel sheets. The two beds in most hotel rooms had been a gift to them, but they had a greater prize now.

Their unspoken secret was no longer in bed with them, and they slept much better for it. Amazing how profoundly their new freedom had affected them already. Together openly. Not on an isolated beach or trail, not one thousand miles away from home, not the even greater distance that two men felt pressured to adopt in public.

No more watching warily as Ian was besieged by love-struck teaching assistants, aggressive cruise passengers, or infatuated undergraduates. The practical aspects of their decision pleased Quinn more and more. The speculation was over, replaced by certainty. Quinn's territorial imperative relaxed into easy confidence.

When they opened the door of their suite, they'd have breakfast -- make that lunch -- together in the Fountains Room. Quinn would ask for a table for two across from one of its marble namesakes, and drink in Ian with his bordeaux. They wouldn't be talking shop, nor would they lower their voices to virtual inaudibility. If goofy newlywed grins graced their faces, they were there for all to see.

After the meal, the men might enjoy a brisk walk in the autumn air, if they could overcome the urge to go back to their rooms and pick up where they'd left off. They still hadn't visited the athletic center, where they'd shared their first swim, or any of the lecture halls. An October Sunday in Windover held many intriguing possibilities.

And when they'd returned from their wedding weekend, its promise would be realized in their daily lives. The weeks of planning had eased Quinn into a transitional attitude towards his parents. Beforehand, their opinions had affected him all too deeply. When he'd made the decision to marry Ian, it had somehow become easier to deal with them. His resolve had brought with it a new assurance, a wider perspective. What were a couple of awkward visits a month and a handful of family obligations? The pressure pushing him into their mold had abated.

Looking down at his lad, Quinn realized that a whisper of his sadness had always been between them. Ian was ever at hand to take on Quinn's trials with a determined grin. Thanks to him, there weren't quite so many anymore. As his dad had taught him, a burden shared was a burden halved.

When Ian had given Quinn his heart, his radiance had dispelled all but the most stubborn of Quinn's shadows. Somehow he knew his new husband wouldn't yield until he'd conquered them all.