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Authors: Teodora Kostova
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on Quinn's.
Nate’s kiss was nothing like he remembered. The memory of these soft, gentle, teasing lips had played in Quinn's mind on a loop for the better part of the past two years. This kiss... This kiss was forceful, angry and raw. Nate was biting his lips until Quinn was pretty sure he tasted blood. He was pummelling his tongue inside Quinn's mouth, greedily conquering every inch of it.
Quinn didn’t care. He accepted Nate’s assault, meeting him half way, fisting his hands in his shirt and kissing back as savagely as Nate was kissing him. He could taste the alcohol on Nate’s tongue, and the lemony aftertaste of the soda it was mixed with.
“You owe me,” Nate murmured between kisses, over and over again, his hands gripping Quinn's shoulders, keeping him caged between his body and the wall. “You fucking owe me.”
The sound of his voice broke Quinn's heart. It started off as angry, demanding, but as they kissed it turned into a soft, sad chant, until Nate’s voice cracked and Quinn tasted salty tears on his tongue.
“Take whatever you need, baby,” he whispered between kisses that had turned slower, the violence leaking out of them just as the fight left Nate’s body.
He crumbled in Quinn's arms, his shoulders shaking, and Quinn held him as he cried the past two years away.
Chapter nine
THE NEXT morning Quinn woke up to the door opening and closing. He squinted one eye open and saw Nate tiptoeing into the room, fully dressed and carrying a tray of food.
“What time is it?” Quinn asked, making Nate jump, spilling some orange juice.
“Fucking hell, you scared me! I thought you were sleeping!” Nate carefully placed the tray on the side table and walked over to Quinn's bed, sitting on the edge. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Quinn through lowered lashes. “I got you some breakfast.”
“Thanks,” Quinn said, propping himself to a sitting position and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Half past ten.”
“What time did you get up?”
Nate shrugged. “Dunno. Around five? Didn't sleep much anyway.”
Quinn noticed the dark circles under Nate’s eyes and the ashen tone of his skin, but said nothing. Last night, after he’d calmed down and allowed Quinn to take him back to the hotel, Nate flopped on the bed, turned his back to Quinn and didn’t even move. He’d been quite drunk, so Quinn thought he’d passed out, and left him alone.
“I’m...” Nate began, his voice cracking. He looked away for a second, but then focused his green eyes on Quinn, taking his breath away. He couldn’t remember ever seeing them so sad. “I’m sorry about last night, Quinn.”
Quinn nodded, accepting Nate’s apology.
“Can I ask you a question?” Nate asked after a moment’s hesitation.
“Sure.”
“Why did you leave?”
That was the only question Quinn didn't feel like answering right now. He held Nate’s gaze, but didn't speak. Nate stood up, shaking his head.
“Here. Get something to eat,” he said, bringing the tray of food and coffee to Quinn. “I’m going to take a shower and lie down for a bit. I need to be well rested for the flying lesson at five.”
“The what now?” Quinn nearly dropped the piece of toast he was buttering on the floor.
“Bran didn’t tell you? I thought you guys shared everything.” The note of resentment in Nate’s voice was back and Quinn was sure it was because he’d refused to answer his question.
“No. He didn’t.” Quinn took a bite of the toast and groaned in pleasure. He hadn't realized he was so hungry that a piece of dry toast could make him moan.
“He bought me a flying lesson for my birthday. We organized this whole trip around it.”
When they were kids Nate had always said he wanted to be a pilot. He was fearless when it came to heights and all kinds of crazy shit Quinn could never stomach.
“We have to be there at five. They’ll come pick us up at half past four here at the hotel,” Nate said,
Nate’s kiss was nothing like he remembered. The memory of these soft, gentle, teasing lips had played in Quinn's mind on a loop for the better part of the past two years. This kiss... This kiss was forceful, angry and raw. Nate was biting his lips until Quinn was pretty sure he tasted blood. He was pummelling his tongue inside Quinn's mouth, greedily conquering every inch of it.
Quinn didn’t care. He accepted Nate’s assault, meeting him half way, fisting his hands in his shirt and kissing back as savagely as Nate was kissing him. He could taste the alcohol on Nate’s tongue, and the lemony aftertaste of the soda it was mixed with.
“You owe me,” Nate murmured between kisses, over and over again, his hands gripping Quinn's shoulders, keeping him caged between his body and the wall. “You fucking owe me.”
The sound of his voice broke Quinn's heart. It started off as angry, demanding, but as they kissed it turned into a soft, sad chant, until Nate’s voice cracked and Quinn tasted salty tears on his tongue.
“Take whatever you need, baby,” he whispered between kisses that had turned slower, the violence leaking out of them just as the fight left Nate’s body.
He crumbled in Quinn's arms, his shoulders shaking, and Quinn held him as he cried the past two years away.
Chapter nine
THE NEXT morning Quinn woke up to the door opening and closing. He squinted one eye open and saw Nate tiptoeing into the room, fully dressed and carrying a tray of food.
“What time is it?” Quinn asked, making Nate jump, spilling some orange juice.
“Fucking hell, you scared me! I thought you were sleeping!” Nate carefully placed the tray on the side table and walked over to Quinn's bed, sitting on the edge. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at Quinn through lowered lashes. “I got you some breakfast.”
“Thanks,” Quinn said, propping himself to a sitting position and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Half past ten.”
“What time did you get up?”
Nate shrugged. “Dunno. Around five? Didn't sleep much anyway.”
Quinn noticed the dark circles under Nate’s eyes and the ashen tone of his skin, but said nothing. Last night, after he’d calmed down and allowed Quinn to take him back to the hotel, Nate flopped on the bed, turned his back to Quinn and didn’t even move. He’d been quite drunk, so Quinn thought he’d passed out, and left him alone.
“I’m...” Nate began, his voice cracking. He looked away for a second, but then focused his green eyes on Quinn, taking his breath away. He couldn’t remember ever seeing them so sad. “I’m sorry about last night, Quinn.”
Quinn nodded, accepting Nate’s apology.
“Can I ask you a question?” Nate asked after a moment’s hesitation.
“Sure.”
“Why did you leave?”
That was the only question Quinn didn't feel like answering right now. He held Nate’s gaze, but didn't speak. Nate stood up, shaking his head.
“Here. Get something to eat,” he said, bringing the tray of food and coffee to Quinn. “I’m going to take a shower and lie down for a bit. I need to be well rested for the flying lesson at five.”
“The what now?” Quinn nearly dropped the piece of toast he was buttering on the floor.
“Bran didn’t tell you? I thought you guys shared everything.” The note of resentment in Nate’s voice was back and Quinn was sure it was because he’d refused to answer his question.
“No. He didn’t.” Quinn took a bite of the toast and groaned in pleasure. He hadn't realized he was so hungry that a piece of dry toast could make him moan.
“He bought me a flying lesson for my birthday. We organized this whole trip around it.”
When they were kids Nate had always said he wanted to be a pilot. He was fearless when it came to heights and all kinds of crazy shit Quinn could never stomach.
“We have to be there at five. They’ll come pick us up at half past four here at the hotel,” Nate said,
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