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Sublimation

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Did he really mean it or was he just scared and trying to say something, anything that would make Q stop looking at him with that open-hearted gaze?

"You're not..."

What had he even meant? Not gay? Well, obviously, but he'd sucked enough bi dick in his time that he should know bisexuals weren't unicorns. Which was a bad comparison, actually, seeing as unicorns turned out to be fucking real too.

So what had he meant? That Quentin didn't like men at all, ill-fated tumbles into Eliot's bed and a decades-long relationship to the contrary?

Well... coming at it from the other side, Eliot had slept with women, had married Fen, loved Fen in his own way. But sexual fluidity was one thing and basic sexual orientation was another. If Eliot was vapour just starting to condense into a cloud, Quentin was ice that was just starting to sweat and you couldn't take a bath in either.

Given the choice, Quentin liked women. Even when he was stuck with Eliot for fifty years, there had been Arielle. How long could he be in a relationship with Eliot before he realised that friendship, even their friendship, wasn't a replacement for what he really wanted out of a relationship? Of course it mattered. And when it all came crashing down, how could he salvage their friendship?

Even as he screamed at himself in his own head for doing it he quickly and quietly squashed the delicate thing that Quentin held proffered between them.

He loved Q too much to lose him.