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It's up to you, too. It's only all up to me if you say you want it to be.

[ Knowing what he knows now about his relationship with the regent, it feels important to make that clear. Tim might feel more comfortable letting someone make every decision for him, but he doesn't assume that'll be the case for anyone else. ]

And what if I want it to be? All of it up to you?

[ he hasn't experienced that with someone he trusts fully - not like he trusts him. ]

I think I would enjoy that.

If that's what you want, I can give you that. Just don't expect a bunch of spanking.

Not the first time, anyway 😇

I will go in with an open mind, open thighs, and let you lead the way, sweet man. 😇

If I'm in charge, you'll be on time. 6:30.

Understood.

[ q spends the rest of his day out in the lake swimming beneath the burning sun of the afternoon. it's an easy place to clear his mind, to burn energy, to let his body do the work and his mind rest. he showers, towel dries his hair, and it's nearly 6:30 when tim will get a little knock at his door. and very much like quentin, he doesn't wait for the answer, merely cracks open the door to peek in. ]

Couple minutes early, sweets. Unless you'd rather me wait.

[ he's dressed simply, a pair of slim, gray jeans and a tight-fitting tee with a v-neck in a deep teal. ]

Whatever you wish.

I was always taught that “on time” means five minutes early. By my father’s standards, you’re late.

[ Lightly, almost sing-song, lifting himself on the tips of his toes to kiss him. Tim’s taking this seriously, but he doesn’t want it to feel serious, he wants it to feel so sweet and easy and unlike anything that’s ever happened with the regent that the monster of a man isn’t thought about at all. He feels the weight of whatever you want, the implication in the invitation that it doesn’t necessarily have to be sweet and easy, but the excited little smile on his face doesn’t imply it’ll be anything but.

His hands slide up and down Quentin’s chest, as if it’s his to touch whenever he pleases, and then catch on the hem of his shirt, giving it a little tug. ]

Take that off and get comfortable for me, alright? I’ll be right back.

[ oh.

oh. a prickle of surprise flits up his spine at the very thought that he is late. even all soft and singsong, there's something in him that already wants tim's approval. wants to prove he is a man of his word and can keep to what he says. it's all he has here. he watches as tim comes close, watches the hands slide up his chest.

idly his fingers reach to graze the other's forearms, boyish and a little less sure. timothy laughlin has caught him off guard. ]

Only my shirt then? Or shall I remove the lot for you?

[ Tentative fingertips graze up his arm, and Tim looks at him in return, warm brown looking even wider while he’s still got his glasses on. The smile quirking at the corner of his mouth gives his gaze a hint of playfulness, no true chastising, just poking around at corners and cracks to see what Quentin responds to. It would be easy enough to just channel Hawk, take the reins with a strong hand and not let go, but that’s what Tim needs. He needs to be claimed and kept under control, to give of his body as an act of worship, but that’s not true for Quentin. This has to be different. A reclamation of this as something good, divorced from duty, which he has a real choice in. ]

Hmmm...

[ Looking Quentin up and down, pretending to think about it as his smile breaks wider, teasing. ]

Keep the underwear. I want to take that for myself.

[ He steps back up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then slips into the bathroom for a quick freshening up. A few minutes later, he returns with lube and a towel, nude and half hard already, and sits on the edge of the bed. Tim leans back on his hands and looks at Quentin, tilting his head in an invitation to come closer. ]

"Bet you'd enjoy it in your mouth," you said. Let's see.

[ quentin does as he's told, stripping down to only the slim, black boxer-briefs he always wears. he listens as he waits, the movement in the bathroom, the silence making his skin prickle with heat, anticipation. he eyes the supplies curiously, allows his eyes to follow the easy, lean line of tim's body.

he really is a pretty thing, strong but lithe, hard and soft in all the places he likes. but he stays still, watching as tim makes himself comfortable, tilts his head. and he does step forward, though he huffs a little at the words. oh, he did indeed say that. ]

You've a good memory.

[ he steps closer, leaning down to press his palms against tim's thighs, parting them a hair more to make room for the broad width of his shoulders as he kneels before him. his eyes stay focused on tim's as he reaches for his half-hard cock, long and callused fingers circling it to steady him. maybe even a cheeky swipe of his thumb along the underside before he leans down, laves his tongue slowly over the flared head, the slit, tasting him. he presses a long line of kisses down the length of him, dragging his tongue up the other side.

he's playing with his food.

but it's the next pass that has him closing his lips around the head of him, sucking once with a loud wet pop, then again. taking him deeper and deeper each time. ]

It was this morning.

[ A bratty little last word, at least for now, as he watches Quentin sink to his knees in front of him, feels his blood rush south. He's always been handsome, with the strong arms of a sailor, muscled shoulders he's thrown his arms around enough times that he's lost count, warm eyes that have felt safe to him since the night they met. He's never been looking up at him, though, and there's enough thrill in the novelty of it that Tim nearly forgets he's supposed to be in charge here.

But not for long. His cock grows thick in Quentin's hand, and his breathing grows deep and heavy just at the teasing, hot press of his tongue. Taking him in more makes him gasp, the warm wet and lewd noise darkening his eyes and kicking him into gear. Tim's hand reaches down to his hair, dark loose waves caught now between his fingers, keeping him from straying too far. ]

Taste good?

[ there's victory in the sounds tim makes, the way his breathing changes and the hand drops into his hair. his sweet man, carefully controlling him and gently coaxing him. it takes him out of his mind in a way, makes him focus on his body, ground himself in where he is and who he is with.

there is no one else haunting him in this moment, only the hot line of tim's arousal laying heavy on his tongue. at first he does nothing but take tim in to the back of his throat and hum his answer, low and rumbling, until he pops off of his dick, head tilting back a little, lips plush and red and slick. ]

Very. I see why Koby wouldn't let up. [ when they'd all been together, a tangle of limbs and bodies. he dips his head, licking softly at the slit, pressing harder on the second pass. ]

Do you like it?

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