[ quentin doesn't know what he expects, but he hardly has time to think before tim has descended upon him. it's reflex that his hands find the dip at tim's waist, that he tilts his head and hums low and graveled beneath the kisses. he'd be a fool to not have noticed the heavy, throbbing need between tim's thighs, too. he's just a man, after all - quentin can't help himself. ]
Tim?
[ he gets one hand to tim's lower back, bringing him flush and close. ]
Who left you like this?
[ possessiveness, a little anger, a little wanting. he reaches his free hand to tim's hair, nails dragging along his nape. ]
no subject
Tim?
[ he gets one hand to tim's lower back, bringing him flush and close. ]
Who left you like this?
[ possessiveness, a little anger, a little wanting. he reaches his free hand to tim's hair, nails dragging along his nape. ]
Let me help you