[ Tim presses into his hand, into his chest, into all of him, every part of him that isn't touching part of Quentin aching terribly. He trembles as if he's already teetering over the edge, despite feeling so painfully far away. With wet streaks on his face, he gasps, nodding with soft, needy sounds as Quentin handles him, obediently wrapping his legs around his waist - or attempting to, sacrificing his balance and control to someone who knows better than him what to do with them.
He whimpers at the impact, hands grasping at the door to steady himself, but there is no steadying himself, there is no normal. He's flying wild, burning up, grinding his ass back against Quentin and praying that he'll offer him relief. Mercy. ]
Fix me. Something's wrong.
[ From their very first meeting, Quentin got to him. Beautiful, sweet, easy to want, easy to accept that he was wanted in turn. But this is too easy, unnaturally so, like he can barely breathe without feeling the other man's breath on the back of his neck. It feels dirty, lacking intimacy in the way that always makes him feel guilty after, because the desire had come before the man. He hadn't sparked it, the feeling simply arose from inside of him, like a monster threatening to swallow him whole. ]
Fuck me. And don't stop talking.
[ Because there's love here, and trust, no matter how much this place tries to taint it and turn it into something tawdry. Tim knows it. It'll just be a reminder. ]
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He whimpers at the impact, hands grasping at the door to steady himself, but there is no steadying himself, there is no normal. He's flying wild, burning up, grinding his ass back against Quentin and praying that he'll offer him relief. Mercy. ]
Fix me. Something's wrong.
[ From their very first meeting, Quentin got to him. Beautiful, sweet, easy to want, easy to accept that he was wanted in turn. But this is too easy, unnaturally so, like he can barely breathe without feeling the other man's breath on the back of his neck. It feels dirty, lacking intimacy in the way that always makes him feel guilty after, because the desire had come before the man. He hadn't sparked it, the feeling simply arose from inside of him, like a monster threatening to swallow him whole. ]
Fuck me. And don't stop talking.
[ Because there's love here, and trust, no matter how much this place tries to taint it and turn it into something tawdry. Tim knows it. It'll just be a reminder. ]