I think I would like to dip them in chocolate and suspend them from the ceiling (if they’re into that).

It’s so great.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Leverage (US TV 2008) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mr. Quinn/Eliot Spencer (Leverage) Characters: Mr. Quinn (Leverage), Eliot Spencer (Leverage), Aimee Martin, Sophie Devereaux (Leverage), Nathan Ford, Parker (Leverage), Alec Hardison, Jim Sterling (Leverage) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Exs to Lovers, Episode: s01e03 The Two-Horse Job (Leverage), Quinn is Aimee martin's little brother, Eliot and Quinn were high school sweathearts, Not Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Third Person Summary:

The Two-Horse Job I’m taking liberties with Canon and Eliot’s back story. Willie Martin had two children, and Aimee was not the one Eliot gave a promise ring to.

Eliot was a few days shy of turning 18, while Quinn had turned 17 a few months back; they were up on the roof of Quinn’s house looking up at the stars, Quinn talking about the constellations with his head in Eliot’s lap.  A little buzzed from the few beers, Eliot snuck out of his parent's house. Quinn had just finished telling the story of Ursa Major, his voice filled with wonder. Then he remembered. “9 months and 14 days,” Quinn remarks, sitting up just enough to take another drink. “What are you counting down for?” Eliot asks, “I’ll be 18, and we can leave this place. Head out to LA, as close to the beach as possible.” Quinn replies, then, with a huff, adds, “Cause someone wants me to finish high school.” “Your daddy would have my head,” Eliot argues with a snort, his hands no longer playing with Quinn’s hair, his eyes going back to the promise ring Quinn wears around his finger. “Besides, school’s important or something.” “Or something,” Quinn laughs humorlessly, going for another drink when Eliot swipes it from his hands. “Promise me,” Eliot says seriously, taking Quinn’s face in his hands. “I promise Eliot what's-” when Eliot kissed him. It was a kiss that spoke of desperation, of a thirst that Quinn could only quench. The angle was awkward: Eliot hunched over while Quinn arched his back into the kiss, unaware of Eliot’s internal struggle. Had Quinn known what was going to happen next, he would have done more.

Eliot was gone the next day, taking only the bare essentials and getting on the first bus out of town, leaving everyone in his life behind without a second glance. The suddenness of his departure left Quinn in a state of shock and confusion. He kept the promise ring Eliot gave him all through his senior year, a symbol of their love and commitment, waiting for Eliot to come back. After graduating, he left town with just one bag. He left a note for his family and wore the ring on a chain around his neck as a reminder not to let anyone get that close again.

—-----

Quinn never thought he’d return home, but Aimee called him one night on the burner phone he sent her, her voice trembling with tears as she spoke about the horses and how Dad was in way over his head, and she didn’t know what to do. So Quinn, transformed by a decade of life's trials, dropped everything and returned to Kentucky. At first, Aimee almost didn’t recognize him, this stranger standing at her doorstep; his hair was longer and pulled back into a neat, low ponytail. He was wearing a suit that fit him perfectly, and he had a nasty bruise on his cheek, but Aimee would recognize her brother anywhere. “Look at you,” Aimee says, hugging him tightly. “All grown up,” “10 years will do that to a person,” Quinn teases, unwilling to let go of his sister. “Sorry, I missed your wedding.” “You’ll make it up to me,” Aimee teased, breaking the hug to fix the collar of Quinn’s suit, a nervous habit she picked up years ago. “You clean up nice….” “What is it?” Quinn asked, picking up the change in his sister's demeanor. “Dad called Eliot.” “And?” Quinn asked, trying to appear calm, but Aimee noticed him clenching his jaw and the way he clenched his fist as if he was about to punch something. 

“And he’s in town,” Aimee explains then with a humorless laugh. “He’s running some scam on Foss with a crew. It’s all so ridiculous, and I almost didn’t believe it. They promised Dad Baltimore.”

“Where are they now?” “Race tracks, why?” Aimee asks, not liking the look in her brother’s eyes. She stands helplessly as he turns and stocks off back to his car. “Quinn? Quinn!”” As Aimee watched her baby brother drive away again, tears welled up in her eyes. She needed to call Eliot.

—-------------------------

Getting into the race tracks was easy. Despite all his time away, everyone recognized Will Martin’s little boy—not so little anymore, the security guard had joked, patting Quinn on the back as he let him in through the back. Foss would be up in the higher bleachers. Quinn could get to Foss with few interruptions if he cut through the stables. On his warpath, Quinn didn’t pay enough attention to his surroundings. He never would have been pulled into a secluded part of the stables if he had. But the hand on his arm was rough, pulling him back and off balance. Thanks to years of practice, Quinn can right himself in time—loosening his arm from the grip. 

Quinn doges right then left instinctually; he spins quickly for a swift kick into his assailant's side, then turns back around, going in for another punch to the chest when his hand gets caught, secured, pinned between the other man’s arm, and side locking him in place. Chest to chest, it is only then that Quinn recognizes who he’s fighting. Eliot Spencer always had a striking figure, even ten years ago at 18. Despite his size, Eliot trounced everyone on and off the football field. Even now, he was a solid wall of muscle with broad shoulders tapered into a trim waist, giving him an athletic build that was both imposing and agile. He grew out his hair, letting it hang in his face as their eyes met.

“What’re you doing here, Quinn?” Eliot asks, sounding intimidating and breathless. Quinn could feel his breath brush his face. “Looking for Foss,” Quinn admits, trying to free his arm, but it doesn’t work. “You’re not getting out of this.” Eliot teases, and damn if that doesn’t make Quinn want to punch his smug face. So Quinn knees him in the groin and then punches his face. “Eliot, what’s going on?” A male voice comes from somewhere. Quinn didn’t hear anyone approach them, and they were still in a secluded part of the race tracks. It’s only when Eliot reaches for something by his foot that he realizes—oh, comms. “That your crew?” Quinn asks with heat behind his voice. Quinn was pissed at Foss for the fire, at his Dad for calling Eliot of all people, and at Eliot for showing up like some white knight trying to right past wrongs. “I’ve handled it, Nate.” Eliot dismisses both Quinn and Nate’s concerns. There’s a pause, and whoever this Nate is talking to Eliot.  “I’m on my way.” “You,” Eliot points a finger at Quinn, “Go home,”

Eliot orders him as if they were back in high school, and Quinn is a lovesick puppy hanging on to his every word. However, Eliot doesn't wait for Quinn to respond. The other hitter turns his back, and Quinn becomes furious. “I waited for you,” Quinn says, breaking Eliot's stride as the man goes still. “Even though some part of me knew you were never coming back. I stayed, and I graduated just like I promised, and you never came back.”

“Quinn.” Eliot's voice breaks; it is subtle in the way he says Quinn’s name. “I’m”

“What, you’re sorry?” Quinn laughs cruelly, trying to cover up the heartbreak. Who knew after ten years, Eliot Spencer could break his heart all over again. “Well, gee then, I guess that makes everything better.”

“Quinn,”

I've been sitting on this au for a while, it's unfinished, so only a handful of paragraphs.

The Two-Horse Job I’m taking liberties with Canon and Eliot’s back story. Willie Martin had two children, and Aimee was not Eliot’s high school sweetheart. (I repeatedly listened to Dasha’s Austin song on repeat while thinking about this, and it shows.)