The Scents of Autumn

by Merry Amelie

Title: The Scents of Autumn
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: PG
Summary: Ian has a treat in store for Quinn, who quickly returns the favor.

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 202
A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at the Master Apprentice ML.

My MA story page is here.

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, Ula, and Padawan Sue
Alex encouraged me to expand Arcadia from a standalone story (Wedding Gifts, posted in July 2003) to a series.

Autumn in Arcadia:

1) Autumn Rhapsody
2) Hearth and Home
3) Sweater Weather
4) Autumn Kata
5) Copper and Chestnut
6) The Man in the Grey Flannel Pajamas

Quinn knows just how to keep up Ian's spirits:
Dusk in Alder Run
Ian returns the favor in the current story.

To Mali

"Ah, that feels so good, laddie."

Ian grinned as he massaged his husband's back over his blue and green plaid lumberjack shirt. Already dressed in his flannel pajamas and thick socks for the night, he'd come to Quinn's home office a little after 10 o'clock that Thursday to give him a break from grading the first batch of essays from his 300 course on James Joyce.

And Ian had brought with him more than a talented pair of hands; two steaming-hot pumpkin cappuccinos -- alongside a plate with Violet's spice cookies -- were sitting on a tray on top of the nearest bookcase, temporarily displacing Quinn's autographed copy of Ray Bradbury's "The Halloween Tree." The room was filled with the scents of cinnamon and ginger, as well as the sheer joy that Ian's invigorating oasis had created in the midst of Quinn's coursework.

Quinn groaned with abandon, as if all of his knots and cricks were melting into the Force. He savored each caress while his lad rubbed him the right way. "'Twas worth every moment of slogging through the kids' take on "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" to get such a reward, mo fearcheile." (my husband)

"I was hoping you'd think so, ma gradh." (my love) Ian ran his hands over the nape of Quinn's neck, his fingers tickled by the curly chestnut hair growing in there, a few weeks after their back-to-school haircuts. He nibbled along the hairline, then added a kiss to the tempting patch of skin near Quinn's right ear. "Undergraduate musings on James Joyce always go down better with a bit of caffeine in the system," he whispered into that ear while he was so close to it.

Quinn's laugh loosened him up even more. A few contented moments later, he turned in his chair so he could embrace his husband. Ian liked the feeling of being momentarily taller than Quinn, of seeing his strong neck reaching up so they could meet face to face. He bent down for another kiss, this time to lips that were luscious even before Quinn started drinking his cappuccino.

"Mmmmmm," Ian purred. "Your flavor puts my barista skills to shame."

Quinn rumbled a chuckle. "We'll see about that, m'lad." He returned Ian's kiss, with interest, before standing up to get the coffee. Ever thoughtful, he gently pushed Ian into his chair, still warm from his body heat.

Ian's eyes flashed in surprise, and a slow grin spread over his face. It was worth losing his temporary height advantage to have such a considerate husband. His grin widened even further when Quinn handed him a mug, and he wrapped his hands around its inviting warmth. "Thank you, kind sir." The aromatic scent wafted between them, teasing their tastebuds with its promise.

"And thank you for bringing the refreshments. Just what I needed." Quinn gave him a crooked grin.

"Just what *we* needed, you mean," drawled Ian.

"I stand corrected, my love." And, indeed, Quinn was still standing, as he was reminded by Ian's snorfle. So Quinn pushed some papers aside with a snort of his own, and sat on the edge of the desk. He raised his mug to inhale the cinnamon-scented steam from his cappuccino. Sighing appreciatively, he smiled at Ian. "I was just about to snarl like a particularly ravenous rancor when you saved me from an overload of grading."

"Feeling *rancorous*, were you?" Ian chuckled into his mug.

"Ah, your first pun of the night, and you came in less than fifteen minutes ago." Quinn brushed a few copper strands off of Ian's forehead with his thumb. "I can see I've inspired you."

Ian's expression changed from amused to earnest with Force-enhanced speed. "You have a way of inspiring me, my 'meleth'." ('love' in Sindarin Elvish) He reached up to clink mugs with his mate.

"I'm delighted to hear that, laddie mine." Quinn's eyes crinkled in pleasure. "And I feel exactly the same way. Thanks to your kindness," he raised his mug in salute, "I'll be able to get through these essays tonight."

Ian licked a swirl of foam off the top of his drink and held it in his mouth for a long moment, enjoying the tickling sensation the bubbles were creating along his tongue. "Oh, that's great! I'm hoping we'll have Saturday afternoon free for some hiking. Now that the weather is getting cooler, it's just perfect for it."

"Sounds grand, Ian. You've just given me some additional motivation to get all of this," Quinn waved his hand above the stacks of essays on his desk, "done before class tomorrow."

"Or at least you'll make them think you did," laughed Ian, "what with your Jedi Mind Trick."

Quinn's groan was not related to Ian's massage skills this time.

"Seriously, though," Ian took a thoughtful sip of his cappuccino, "at least it's a fourth-period class. You've got plenty of time before noon." He patted Quinn's knee, which was enticingly close to the right arm of his chair.

Quinn smiled at his touch. "That I do, but remember during fifth period, we're attending the rally at the Student Center."

Ian nodded soberly. Luke-Loves and various civics organizations around campus were staging a demonstration to protest the recent spate of anti-gay laws passing in Russia. The laws were fomenting violence against LGBT people, and Luke wanted to raise awareness to help them.

"Well, I'd better leave you to finish grading, as soon as I'm done with my coffee." Ian sighed.

Quinn held up his huge hand. "No need for that much of a rush, lad. You've got to give me the chance to taste the cinnamon on your lips before you go."

Ian's eyes widened; he didn't think Quinn had the time for such a sweet diversion. "Sounds like the best thing that's happened to me all day."

"Does it, now?" Quinn smiled into his husband's eyes. "I'm glad to hear that."

The intimate tone in Quinn's voice sent a shiver through Ian, despite the heat of his drink. "Now that I know what I have to look forward to, the spice in our cappuccinos seems like just a taste of things to come." He resisted the urge to make another pun, this time on 'come'; it was just too easy.

And both of them resisted the urge to finish their drinks quickly, in order to get started on those flavored kisses. Looking at the stack of ungraded essays, Ian estimated it would take under an hour for Quinn to mark them. So they had a little less than one hour remaining for coffee and kisses, since they wanted to be in bed by midnight on this school night.

Quinn drank in his lad as he drank his coffee. Ian's copper hair still had blond streaks from hours spent in the summer sun; his blue-grey eyes looked like chips of crystal fit for Obi-Wan's lightsaber in the soft light of the desk lamp; his mouth already had that cheeky bit of foam that hinted at what he hoped for at bedtime.

As always, Ian had stars in his eyes when gazing at Quinn. And he did an awful lot of star-gazing. Quinn's hair was tousled after an over-full day at work and at home; his eyes were bright with merriment from their conversation; instead of foam, his lips had a coffee mustache, reminiscent of a certain Jedi Master.

After finishing his drink, Quinn stood up to put his mug on the tray. He grabbed ginger-spice cookies for Ian and himself while he was there and was grateful that Violet spoiled them just as thoroughly as she did Lelia and Han. He sat down even closer to Ian this time.

Patiently waiting until Ian put his mug down on the desk, Quinn captured one of Ian's knees between his calves. Ian grinned in delight at his herven's playful possessiveness.

"Ready for that cinnamon kiss I promised you, m'lad?" rumbled Quinn in his best teasing tone, after they had finished their cookies. He got up again to ease Ian out of his chair.

"Always." Ian leaned into his husband and they relished their closeness for a long moment.

Quinn angled down to meet his laddie's lips, every inch the tender lover. True to his word, cinnamon was on the menu, along with tempting ginger and vanilla flavors. Their tongues thoroughly blended the spices in a tasty tangle and made them seem all the spicier. One kiss became two, became three, before they both lost count.

"'Twould have been a shame to waste these exquisite flavors just on grading essays." Quinn nuzzled his lad's cheek.

Ian gave a gentle laugh. "That's for sure." He looked up into the blue, blue eyes he loved so much. "Everything tastes better when we share it."

The warmth of the cappuccino was nothing compared to the heat Quinn felt with a toasty-warm laddie in his arms.