A Wedding in Arcadia #1 -- A Delicious Proposal

by Merry Amelie (MerryAmelie@aol.com)

Archive: MA only

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

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Quinn on bended knee

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 50

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 and Ula, my friends and betas extraordinaire

Thanks to Nerowill for her wonderful suggestions.

Quinn slid a photo of Ian, Lelia, and himself on the beach into a lucite frame, and added it to their collection on the teak bookcase. A few inches away, two young men in tuxes looked back at him, grinning like new grooms on their honeymoon cruise. His thoughts had taken a decidedly matrimonial turn of late.

They had been wearing their wedding bands to every Prentice family gathering since Jo and Keith's anniversary party back in March, which had given him a tantalizing taste of what he'd been craving.

Together for precisely two years, three months, and sixteen days, the men had been married in all but name since giving each other their rings over Christmas in Williamsburg in 2003. Quinn wanted to make it official.

In some ways, he was as conservative as his parents; his maverick spirit was anchored by honor, respect, and tradition, and he wanted Ian accorded the same rights and privileges that their married friends took for granted. While he might not be ready to come out at the English Department yet, the notoriously tight-lipped Administrative Services section was something else.

The ideal location for their wedding had come to him when he'd found a copy of the lecture he had given at the Tolkien symposium while cleaning the office. Luckily, Massachusetts had legalized same-sex marriage since then, and Mace University happened to have a quaint little chapel, dating from the 1770s, that would be perfect for their use.

He had but one important formality to broach before asking Ian.

Quinn waited until Keith and he were playing pool in the Padua basement to pose his question.

"This is a bit awkward," Quinn began but quickly stalled, giving credence to his words. He chalked the tip of his cue, trying for serenity, and started again. "I want to do this properly, Keith. I'm planning on asking Ian to marry me..." Quinn never got to finish his sentence.

Keith's stick hit the carpet with a muffled thud. "I can't believe it!" His voice was jubilant. "You're actually gonna do it!" He charged around the table to tackle-hug Quinn. "Congratulations, son."

Quinn, unprepared for this onslaught, rocked back a little from the force of it. Laughter bubbled out of him, released by the sudden break in tension. Though Keith and Jo already treated them like a couple, he hadn't been sure of Keith's reaction to taking the next step. When he'd recovered the breath to talk, he said, "Thank you. You and Jo have always been so good to us."

Keith felt a twinge of sadness in the midst of his joy; their kindness, far from expected, had been cherished as a gift by the boys. "You're already part of the family, Quinn. Now go and tell Ian." His grin reappeared at the command; his ever-articulate son would soon be rendered speechless.

After a day at the library, Ian opened the door to the scent of cabernet-infused marinara sauce. Covered pots sat on the still-warm stove as he crossed the kitchen into the dining nook, looking for his lover. The mosaic table was hidden by the white linen tablecloth Jo had given them, Ian's stoneware decorating the plain weave. Quinn walked in with a fresh-cut rose from their terrace garden, and pressed it into his lover's hand, having already removed the thorns.

"Mmmm. Date night." Ian brushed Quinn's chin with the petals, smiling at his murmur of pleasure. He kissed Quinn's partly open lips, both thanks and promise in the soft pressure of his mouth.

When Quinn pulled out his chair for him, Ian knew this must be a truly special occasion. Though they'd done this for each other before in private, it usually was reserved for birthdays, anniversaries, and the like. Standing the rose in a bud vase at the center of the table, he mulled the possibilities while Quinn brought in an appetizer of stuffed mushrooms.

"For the hobbits in residence," Quinn said, since mushrooms were the one treat the ever-hungry halflings craved above all others. He poured the shiraz, then sat across from Ian.

"Happens to be my favorite too. Thank you," Ian said, well aware that Quinn had made them for this very reason. He'd even left out the parsley that Ian disliked.

They tucked into their food, the atmosphere charged with anticipation.

The unspoken question in Quinn's eyes tantalized Ian throughout the meal. "You're spoiling me tonight, love." Green eyes caressed Quinn as they ate.

Quinn chuckled. "Hopefully not just tonight, Ian."

"Nah, you make a habit of it," Ian said cheerfully.

"Must've picked it up from you." Quinn took a few more mushrooms from the platter.

"Your mushrooms are certainly 'hobbit-forming,'" Ian drawled, never one to resist a bad pun.

When Quinn just smiled and gave him a free pass, Ian started to wonder what was going on in earnest. His knee found its way between Quinn's restless thighs, staying there until his lover rose to get the main course, langostinos au gratin over capellini.

"Mmmm. This is fantastic." The tang of extra-sharp cheddar nipped at Ian's tongue, low moisture giving it bite.

"Thanks. I got it at Owen's." Quinn beamed; he wasn't used to compliments about his cooking.

"The dairy farmer's shop?"

Quinn nodded. He noticed that Ian's plate was all but spotless, another sign that his culinary efforts had been appreciated. He took the dishes to the sink, and brought out the bakery dessert: coconut rum cake with vanilla icing, which went straight to Ian's sweet tooth, as Quinn had known it would.

"Oh, Quinn, what a wonderful dinner." In a playful echo of his Williamsburg trifle, Ian had contrived to get vanilla cream on his upper lip. However, this time they were in private, and Quinn was free to do something about it.

He ambled over to an expectant Ian, dropping to his knees beside his chair. "Missed a bit here, love," he murmured, touching the spot with a teasing finger, then closing his mouth over it. Quinn tasted the bit of icing on his lazy tongue as it meandered over Ian's skin. "More delicious on you by far."

Ian turned towards Quinn to encourage a deep kiss, and was promptly rewarded. "Ah, the only thing that could've improved such a meal."

Touching foreheads, Quinn said, "Perhaps not."

Something in Quinn's voice told Ian that his curiosity was about to be satisfied. Quinn continued to kneel at his side as he took Ian's hands in his own. "We've been wedded for years here," Quinn pressed his palm to Ian's chest, "and I was hoping..." His voice dropped ever lower. "Hoping that you'd marry me, lad."

It wasn't often that Quinn took Ian completely by surprise, but he'd done it now. Fortunately, the love in his eyes spoke for him. Burying his face in Quinn's hair, he finally whispered, "I will."

Ian slid downward, wrapping his thighs around Quinn's. "I love you so much."

"My dearest." Quinn rested his head on Ian's shoulder, nuzzling his strong neck between kisses to his hairline.

Ian captured Quinn's lips with his own, then started to rub deliciously against Quinn, rocking harder and harder as passion took him, soaring even higher when he felt Quinn do the same. "Drivin' me...unhh...wild," Ian managed to gasp out.

An epoch later, their cries blended and they clung to each other, wet and winded.

Ian was the first to catch his breath. "First time since we've been engaged."

"Of many to come," Quinn said with satisfaction.

Ian laughed. "And here I thought I was the punster."

Quinn's groan now had a far different quality than those of five minutes ago.

After a shower, during which Quinn was already proven right, they started nuzzling in bed.

Gently stroking Ian's bare thigh, Quinn said, "Been thinking of the Mace chapel."

"Oh, love! That's perfect. I've always wanted to go back there." Ian's eyes were positively glowing. "How 'bout a reception at Roma?"

Quinn chuckled at the 'call and raise' tone in Ian's voice. "Done."