Flush

The flatmates sat together in their small apartment kitchen, the smell of spices filling the air and making it warm. Smaller hands rested over Yarrow’s own, making him even warmer as they carefully guided him into folding a dumpling.

“Ah, Row, you’re doing such a good job. You’re a natural at this.” Quill praised him gently with a soft smile.

Yarrow had an unfortunate quirk that he had hoped he would’ve grown out of… he blushed. Bad. A bit of embarrassment or tug at his heart strings was all it took to make his face burn hot enough to show through his tawny skin. 

“Thanks.” He murmured, keeping his eyes pointedly focused on the dumpling left in his hands as Quill turned to start cooking something else. 

They had known each other since childhood, but it was only recently that this started happening. Yarrow often caught himself staring at his flatmate, and sometimes Quill also caught him, causing his face to turn molten. Quill talked to him sometimes in a gentle, breathy sort of voice that made his heart catch in his chest.

“You look amazing in that, my friend.” Quill called from the couch as Yarrow left his room. He was wearing a new sweater, but it wasn’t much different than his other clothing. Still, Yarrow froze and felt his face flush.

“Th-Thanks.” He cleared his throat and Quill just smiled, returning to the book he was reading.

Whatever this development was, it felt both amazing and nauseating at the same time. He loved seeing Quill’s smiles and hearing his laughter, but he felt ashamed just knowing how pink his face was every time… and it was only getting worse.

“The streets may be dangerous, but I have nothing to worry about with someone clever and strong like you at my side, isn’t that right?” Quill tilted his head to look up at them as they walked through a rainy alley together. Yarrow’s grip on their umbrella tightened.

“Of course.” It was just a fact. He was clever. He was strong. So… why did the way Quill said it make his mind feel fuzzy?

It didn’t get better over the weeks or months, and Yarrow still couldn’t understand what was going on with him. Maybe he was sick, but if he was… he almost didn’t want to get better.

The two of them settled into peaceful, domestic flatmate life. Quill cooked for them most of the time, though he tried to teach Yarrow as well. Yarrow stuck to making their coffee, and every once in a while he tried to get Quill to appreciate his taste for tea.

Yarrow set a steaming mug of oolong next to Quill’s laptop as he worked. He tried to not bother Quill outright when he was writing, but the small disturbance was enough to make Quill look up at him with a gentle smile.

“You’re good to me, Yarrow. I might just have to keep you around forever, huh?” He took the mug into his hands and took a long sip.

Yarrow was stunned, and rather than a response he made a sort of choking sound in the back of his throat. Forever? He could only wish someone would want to be around him that long! The high points of his cheeks felt searing to the touch - he knew because he tried to hide his face in his hands. 

He couldn’t see Quill, but he heard a soft chuckle, and all at once he understood…

“You are doing it on purpose!” He dropped his hands and pointed accusingly at his flatmate, but Quill just smiled contently behind his mug.

“Doing what on purpose, Row?” Oh, Yarrow knew that tone. Confident, a bit snarky with a lopsided smile. Quill had made him the butt of too many pranks for him not to know what was going on here.

Yarrow reached over and closed Quill’s laptop before looming over him with arms outstretched. Quill also knew exactly what was going on here and quickly scrambled to his feet.

“Come here!!”

Quill couldn’t hope to outrun Yarrow, but he gave it a shot as he darted away from the coffee table with his giant of a flatmate on his tail through the kitchen and hallway. His shriek of being grabbed turned into frantic laughter as both of them tumbled to the floor.