Alpha Assignment (BL) Chapter 38 (Early Access) (Patreon)

Where Quinn's morning alarm forced him awake, Remi managed to sleep straight through the noise. Tapping the clock, he shut off the blaring beeps. He needed to pry his little lover off, but he looked so warm and so comfortable and so kissable. Quinn attacked Remi's round face with smooches, and only managed to half-rouse him.

"Good morning," Quinn whispered.

Remi smiled. His eyes closed again but the smile remained. He burrowed deeper into the duvet after Quinn climbed out and into the chilly morning air. Shower, clothes, bag packed, breakfast made, Remi's wrapped up and left in the fridge with a sappy note. Too soon, it was time to leave. Quinn didn't wake Remi up a second time.

His productivity had been on a decline for the last week, but at least today Jordan was just as distracted. Not a single task on their team to-do list had been completed when they were both broken from their thoughts by Quinn's phone vibrating.

Just a message, but from Assistant.

Tell him I miss him.

Quinn's heart squeezed. Work couldn't possibly be so important that he needed to be anywhere but with Remi right then...

"Cute background."

They both looked up from the screen. Under the notification block was the photo from Sunday: Remi, bundled in brown and green wool and corduroy, smiling in front of a monstrous pumpkin. Muddy boots and a lopsided topknot completed Remi's naturally adorable appearance. Zero effort needed. Any additional effort now might actually be too much for Quinn's heart to handle.

"Thanks," Quinn replied. The screen went black again.

"Things are going well then?"

Quinn nodded, unable to keep his smile away. "What about you and, uh-"

"Jay, yeah, it's good."

"I'm glad."

"Me too."

Jordan snickered, and it set off Quinn, and then they were both laughing over nothing, drawing looks from any person that passed.

"Why are we being so awkward?"

"I don't know," Quinn chuckled. "It's so stupid."

"I'm happy for you, and you're happy for me so let's stop being uncomfortable." Jordan flopped back in his chair with an exasperated sigh. "Please."

"Deal."

An email notification popped up in the corner of his screen:

THANK YOU FOR JOINING OUR WAITLIST - RESERVATIONS NOW AVAILABLE

Quinn hunched forward over his keyboard. "Lauto just emailed me, they've got reservations available!"

"That place we went to for the work dinner?"

"Yeah." He was already scrolling through the reservation slots. "I want to take Remi."

Jordan whistled. "Very fancy, is he used to that?"

He was right, it was one of the most formal places Quinn had ever eaten in, and he’d been invited to plenty of work dinners and events. The kind of place with a dress code… he scribbled a note on a post-it to remember to order Remi something that would be allowed in.

Quinn shook his head. "I doubt he's experienced any kind of sit-in dining."

"And you don't think the chaos of Mcdonalds would build character?"

Beeping cooking timers and shrill children’s screams filled Quinn’s memory. He had tried fast food, because he wanted something… fast. The side of trauma had negated the speed advantage and he had never tried to hurry his lunch again.

"More like cause cardiac arrest, and that's before taking a bite." Quinn chuckled to himself as he filled in the reservation form. Jordan joined in. With a thump of his enter key, he sent off the booking.  "This is actually great timing..."

"How come?" Chin in hands, Jordan’s curious grin teased him from across their desks.

For some reason, the question embarrassed Quinn a little. "I want to ask him to be... official?” He shrugged, awkwardness returning. “If that's what you call it…"

"Oh!" Jordan's face lit up. So happy for him, it instantly relieved a little of the uncomfortable energy in Quinn’s stomach. "Serious."

"Yeah, and I think that kind of question should be asked at a nice place." Or after a nice place, out of earshot of humans…

"Definitely." Jordan was fizzing in his seat with excitement. "And afterwards you have to tell me everything!"

Quinn promised he would.

The warming waft of cinnamon welcomed Quinn home when he stepped over the threshold. He sniffed his way to the kitchen and found a sweet sight: Remi, flour-dusted. Oh, and a rack of orange cookies sprinkled with icing sugar. Quinn knew which he’d rather take a bite out of.

“Cookies?” he said in greeting.

Remi grinned. “Pumpkin cookies!”

They let the treats cool in the kitchen while they put together dinner from leftovers on the dining table. They had to eat quickly to get to painting class, and Quinn wanted to get changed into more comfortable clothes beforehand.

Remi was already dressed. Between the mushroom-patterned socks and khaki paperbag shorts, there was a lot of slender leg on show. Small green and brown garden-tending-bruises peppered his knees. If they didn't have class to attend, Quinn would trail his fingers along them... maybe venture a little higher... then, inevitably, his tongue would get involved.

He forced his eyes to his food and cleared his plate like he was starving. It was the only way to keep from doing something he shouldn't. Remi had just about finished when he came back downstairs after getting changed, and they made it out the door on time with a plastic tub filled with sweets.

Their classmates loved the cookies. Carla used hers to gesticulate as she explained the basics of proportions - they had moved onto portraits. Her face was just over three cookies long.

"You are welcome to bring up a photo on your phone, paint a class partner, or use one of the mirrors for a self portrait." Carla pointed out a cardboard box of rarely-used supplies. "Whatever you decide, let's try not to hurt our own, or other's, feelings. We are all learning here, so if you think your nose looks a little bent or your ears a bit too big - it's probably beginner's brush strokes."

They were released to begin sketching out spheres and eye lines, and Quinn and Remi chose each other. Others scrolled through their phones for references for children, lovers and friends. Quinn would love a chance to paint his pumpkin picture, but he wasn't sure what category that would fall under... Carla did always offer the option to 'paint as you please' if you didn't want to follow the weekly themes.

"Can you sit, please?"

"Hmm?" Remi's quiet question had drawn him back out of his thoughts.

A stool was dragged to him and Remi patted the top. "Sit here. I'll lower your easel."

Quinn did as he was told and watched his canvas drop to reachable height again. Now his and Remi's were equal.

"Where's your stool?"

"If I sit too then I'll have the same issue again!"

"Issue?"

"You're too tall."

A loud and un-gentlemanly laugh burst from Quinn. "Have you considered that maybe you're too small?"

The pouty look he received made him regret his words instantly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You're perfect-sized a-"

Remi laughed. "I'm not upset, Quinn. Only teasing." He leant in close, their faces almost aligned, and it brought back the previous day, when he and Remi had been eye-to-eye, forehead-to-forehead, and then joined... elsewhere. A wry smile played at Remi's lips. "Your eyes got bigger and darker," he whispered.

"Your eyes are always big and dark," Quinn replied, soft and unintentionally sultry. "I should be sketching them instead of staring into them."

Remi dropped back a step, and their bubble burst, bringing back the bustling room around them. They took up their pencils and started with basic shapes. It took a few attempts to get perfect circles, and keeping everything else symmetrical was almost impossible.

A game of peek-a-boo had begun with them both trying to catch the other unaware to hold up their pencils and measure their features. As Quinn scrubbed off a little round ear for the third time, the trail of a blunt lead tip tickled along his face. Only his eyes dared move. Remi was close, and dragging his pencil over Quinn's face as though his hand would remember the form beneath.

He held still, or tried to, until he couldn't keep the chuckles at bay. When he turned, the pencil was bumped from Remi's fingers to the floor. He didn't collect it. His fingers splayed over Quinn's cheeks, measuring up his knuckles to Quinn's nose, counting nonsense numbers and made-up measurements.

"I never get to touch your face," he murmured.

"You're always welcome to."

"I can't reach."

Quinn pursed his lips and tried not to laugh at Remi's height deficiency... again.

Fingertips tapped along his cheekbones, round his eyes, poked his earlobes, and skimmed the skin that curved down his chin. Quinn smiled under his touch, it was as delicate as the man doing it. Tucking two fingers behind each side of his jaw, Remi pulled him closer, closed the gap, and kissed him.

Surprise held Quinn still for a second, then he pushed his lips forward, letting Remi catch them in his own and lead them deeper-

A jolt ran from Remi's body to Quinn's and the kiss broke. Quinn's eyes opened, and Remi was staring up at him, shame-faced. They glanced around the room, checking for anyone who looked like they'd just seen something they didn't ask to. If anyone had noticed them, they didn't make it obvious.

They returned their focus to the task at hand, too embarrassed to say another word. At the end of the evening they had blocks of base skin colours filling their canvases.