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quentin toma NOTES: sailor, navigator, loverboy, war-bringer. THREAT LEVEL LIKABILITY LEVEL SCANDAL LEVEL FASHION LEVEL WEALTH LEVEL

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[ seeing tim so desperate and furious for him does something to the temperature of quentin's blood. he laughs, low and appreciative at the lewd way tim readies himself. he gives another appreciative squeeze of his balls and then begins to slowly roll his hips forward. he won't give him the punishing, harried fuck he's promised yet - instead he goes slow, slow, slow. he watches every inch of him sink into tim, hand sliding from deep between his thighs to carefully pet over the hard line of tim's dick. ]

So good.

[ he leans forward, mouth against tim's nape. ]

This what you wanted? [ and he bottoms out suddenly, deeply, letting his hips press flush and hard against tim's ass. ]

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[ It's barely readying, just enough so that he has something wet to press his cock on as he pushes into him, painfully slow. It would be perfect, in any other mood, even with the sting of under-preparedness. But now, even though he whimpers, even though his fingers claw at the wall to steady him until there's paint beneath his fingernails, it doesn't feel like enough.

Tim whines, pushing himself back on Quentin's cock, and forth into his hand, rocking with frustrated tears in his eyes. He chokes back a sob and answers. ]

More.

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[ it's impossible to keep his dick from throbbing with want as tim fucks himself back on him and then into the circle of his fist. but who is he to deny him more - and as tim drives his hips back he meets them with his own, a hard and rough snap that makes skin slap and chokes a heady groan from him. ]

You asked so nicely.

[ he squeezes his hand around tim, stroking from his sac, from root to tip before his sticky hand joins one on tim's on the door. the other to tim's shoulder, gripping hard and stabilizing himself as he begins to set a punishing pace, his breath coming in little pants and gasps. ]

And you're taking me so well.