There was that annoying heat in his face again as he watched Mal trace circles with his thumb on Quinn's hand. This simpleness kept him in his body rather than floating through his thoughts for entertainment, distraction, or the pressure to be interesting. It felt peculiar, this small action and Quinn examined it quietly as he relaxed against Mal, fitting together.
At first there was a self-consciousness that turned inwards, things that inquired if he were truly worthy of such affection, especially from Malakai, whom had always been untouchable to him before. That part was the part that reminded Quinn about the shitty men that had come and gone from his life - Mike, Jerry, and how many others? - and had spent years trying to convince him that those were the types that should be and always would be interested in him. But this? Was Quinn even worthy of this?
He detactedly dissected the peculiarity of the feeling to find it bound by the time he had spent without such simple things like genuine affection and care. He and Jeremiah had never been intimate in that way; their time was spent fucking and feeding and recovering from fucking and feeding, or around others like Malakai and the rest of the band. Sure, they had held hands on occasion - mostly when Quinn had initiated (and enforced) it or when he was being held down into the bed during a kinkier romp - but it had never felt like more than a casual touch, a convenient one. Before Jerry, it was John, who insisted on as many public displays of affection as possible when their relationship had started. Hand holding was something they had done often in the beginning, until Quinn had felt the rage, resentment, and social pressure build. He mused for a moment, figuring that the last time holding someone's hand meant something significant was almost three years ago now.
"I want to see you again."
Bravery.
Quinn smirked redly down at the ground, pulling himself back to the feeling of holding Malakai's hand, his blue eyes landing on where their skin touched. He heard the words, felt them as they entered his ears and swelled in his chest with a kind of excitement. Once again, that conditioned urge to hide his vulnerability behind a sarcastic or funny comment bubbled up and was fought silently by the human.
"Yeah," he nodded absently with a deepening flush. "I'd like that." He paused and looked up at the crowd without truly seeing them, and chuckled. "I can't even tell you how long I've been wanting to... go on a date with you." He looked over at the vampire now, his eyes flickering to his lips briefly before finding his gaze. "But... you know..." Quinn shrugged, not knowing whether his casual shrug was enough of an answer to excuse his stupidity for trying to make things work with Jerry. "Hindsight, and all that..."