Chapter Twenty-Three: An Old Man, Old Woman and A Little Walk into a Bar...

                                    

                                          

Devon's guilty pleasure was no doubt his love of reality TV. It was a terrible form of entertainment, infuriating to watch most of the time and so removed from actual everyday life that combined, it left him feeling a rollercoaster of emotions at the end of an episode. 
Despite all of this, he loved it, especially after a challenging work project. Or in this case, after a shit show of an evening. 
Jesse had been beside himself, drinking away the regret they felt once it was clear Briar was not coming back down the stairs for the night. Everyone was now worried that in the morning, Briar would come down the stairs and say he was moving out and wanted some time without contact from the trio. This was what Devon had been hoping to avoid, not wanting to discuss their feelings with the pretty man just yet because it was clear how fragile he was. And with all of the progress he had been making, it seemed such a shame to risk setting it all back to square one. 
But here they were, Jesse in bed drunker than a skunk, Quinn worried over the mental state of Briar and Devon worrying about them all, wondering if now their chances at a relationship with Briar were ruined. Maybe even their friendship.
So as a distraction, his dear husband was dragged into watching tv with him. After all, watching TV alone was nowhere near as comforting compared to watching with company.
"Housewives or that dating show that started airing recently?" Quinn asked, flipping through their options. 
"Housewives; there's more to catch up on. Want me to get some drinks?". 
"I'll have a glass of the Tuscany Ornellaia that Grandma gave us. A very big glass, please". 
Walking around the back of the sofa and placing a kiss on his husband's head, Devon went into the kitchen for the beverages. He saw the pile of dishes he promised to do so Jesse could drown their sorrows, but promptly turned from the stacks of dinner's remnants. 
It was sore to see the uneaten leftovers of Briar's plate sitting on the side, and he had to force himself not to reheat the plate and take it upstairs. They all most likely needed some time to get their heads sorted without being pressured into talking. Getting the drinks and putting the bottles under arm, he re-entered the living room to sit beside his tall lover. 
"Thanks, love" Quinn smiled, lips looking like they were in need of a kiss and so he obliged, touching them softly with his own before pulling away and relaxing into the sofa cushions. 
"You're being very lovey-dovey tonight. How many whiskeys did you have in the kitchen?". 
"Oi, I'm always like this. I'm an affectionate man" he demanded, absolutely sure of himself. 
"I never said you weren't- but this is the first time you've gotten me a glass of wine without mentioning how much of an uppity, elderly white woman it makes me" Quinn stated, an eyebrow raised and both men laughed. 
"It's been a rough night; you can be an old woman all you want". 
"Yeah, really rough... then you can be an old white man with your piss-coloured liquid fire". 
"So, you mean I can be myself?". 
Quinn refused to answer, tipping his glass back and pointedly staring at the television harder than necessary. Chuckling softly, Devon intertwined their fingers and rested his head against his husband's shoulder. 
It seemed that tonight, he needed some comfort too so how lucky he was to have whiskey and Quinn.
Hours passed by, both men having a couple more drinks while episodes played back-to-back. At one point, the husband's entered a debate over if what one of the women said was going too far or not, both men remembering halfway through that they honestly didn't care because it was entertaining to watch the bitchy aftermath. Neither of them seemed eager to bring up the topic that needed to be addressed, wanting to spend a little longer just enjoying each other's company.