Chapter 40
August
August rolled his head to the side and grinned at the gorgeous man standing at the edge of the tub. “Coming in?”
Quinn chuckled low in his throat as he swung a leg over the side of the tub and joined him in the hot water, perching on August’s thighs like he was his own personal throne.
And August wasn’t opposed to the idea.
“Are you okay leaving the girls to come to the game?” he asked Quinn, settling his shaking hands onto Quinn’s hips. Everything from the chest up was stinging from rope burns and his own fingers, but he felt jittery in the best way.
Shibari was amazing. Quinn was amazing. He loved being tied up and told what to do if it always left him feeling this floaty afterward.
“Eren’s mom and dad offered to watch them and Eren for the night,” said Quinn. He paused and scowled, as if it offended him somehow. “Actually, they insisted. They want me to be there for your first game back, and refused to take no for an answer.”
August had a feeling it was more to give Quinn a break than to send him as support, but he was keeping those inside thoughts, inside.
“They’re right, of course.” Quinn took August’s wrist and touched his fingers to the red line of newly healed skin where the skate blade had cut him.
The wound was closed, and the only pain he felt was deeper inside if he twisted it a certain way, but August couldn’t bear to be off for any longer. His team needed him because Niko was bound to run out of gas, and he couldn’t be expected to carry their hopes and dreams indefinitely.
“I’m terrified,” said Quinn.
At first, August didn’t know what he meant, but he understood after watching Quinn’s staring contest with his healing arm.
“What happened to Eren was a horrible accident,” said August. “I can’t say why he froze like he did, and yeah, he got his bucket knocked off, but that rarely happens. And it won’t happen to me.”
What he said didn’t seem to help, so August kept going, hoping to talk himself out of the tension.
“I’m too tall for anyone to knock my helmet off, and my height makes it easier to track the puck.
Guys don’t try to push me around because of my size, and I avoid scrums to keep others from getting hurt.
If you want me to wear a neck guard, I will.
The only reason my arm got cut is because my sleeve got yanked up, and someone clipped me in the frenzy.
I’ll tape everything down if I have to, but I don’t want you to be sitting behind the bench, terrified for me. That would kill me.”
Quinn dropped his arm and cupped his face instead, thumbs tracing slowly over August’s cheekbones. They didn’t speak for a while. The silent communication through touch and sight alone was enough to convey the unspoken fear between them.
“Just…keep your fucking head up during the game,” Quinn said finally. “Or I will use my seductive power to convince you to find a new career. I swear to fuck, August.”
August leaned his head against the edge of the tub and smirked, letting a tiny glimpse of brattiness shine through as a distraction. “Seductive powers?”
He didn’t mean for his voice to go so low, but it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Quinn come after their session, and now they were naked in the tub.
August was doing everything he could to keep his dick from getting hard in case Quinn was too stressed to go another round, but even with his energy low and his head hurting, there was too much bare, slippery skin to ignore.
“Sorry. Ignore it, and it will go away.”
Quinn’s laugh caught in the back of his throat, and his gaze drifted slowly downward in a way that had August biting his lip. “I don’t know. I think the issue is too big to disappear on its own.”
If Quinn kept talking like that, it wouldn’t matter if he already came recently because August would end up coming like a teenager who had just caught their first glimpse of a willing and naked body.
“Quinn, we don’t have to if you’re tired and worried about other things. I’m good now after you took care of me, so cuddling is fine.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you don’t want to come again? Really? I hear orgasms help with headaches.”
August closed his eyes and groaned. He didn’t know what he was going to do with himself if this was the future he had to look forward to. But then again, it was nice not having to take control, so long as Quinn didn’t mind handling him.
“If I leave the house coordinated enough to tie my skates later, I’ll be proud of myself,” said August. He slipped his hands under Quinn’s thighs and brought him closer so he could take both of their cocks in his hand, but Quinn shooed him away.
“Let me. You’re aching from the ropes, and you have to play hockey with a barely healed arm. Just relax and enjoy your reward.”
Reward? He was getting rewarded for mental breakdowns, hallucinations, and submitting now?
If that was the case, Quinn was going to have sore arms and jacked biceps by the end of the year.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking about that has you smiling like that,” said Quinn. “But I’m not going to ask because I’m sure it’s weird.”
August hissed at the first touch of Quinn’s fingers closing around his dick, and his hands shot out of the water to grip the edge of the tub. “You know me too fucking well.”
The first stroke made August’s skin break out in goosebumps. There was too much friction, and he wasn’t joking about being oversensitive, but fuck, it felt amazing.
He opened his eyes just in time to watch Quinn spit into his hand before he went back to stroking him, and that did a whole lot of nothing because the water washed it away instantly, but it was so hot.
Quinn leaned in, bringing his mouth to August’s like he was about to kiss him, but then he stopped before the moment of contact.
“I know you just came, but you’re ready to burst again,” he said, panting the words into the air between them.
“I know you want to cum. You’re twitching and leaking all over my hand, so just let go for me, baby. ”
That fucking petname was going to be the death of him.
“Your cock is so fucking thick.”
The rippling water did nothing to mask the sound of skin sliding over skin, or the whimpers leaving August’s mouth as Quinn physically and verbally took him apart.
“If I didn’t have to sit in those fucking cold chairs for hours and watch you chase a murder disk around with your friends, I would ride your dick for the next three hours just to watch you skate on wobbly legs.”
“Fuck—what are you even saying?”
Quinn smirked and grabbed August by the throat to stop him from talking, holding him in place while he readjusted.
August had been on the brink of coming, and he almost growled at Quinn for stopping until he felt the hand return, along with Quinn’s cock. August choked on his next breath, making a strangled sound as Quinn stroked them together, sending his senses into overdrive.
It was too much. The pressure, the slide of Quinn’s hot skin gliding over them, and the way they were panting into each other’s mouths instead of kissing, had set nearly every nerve in his body on fire.
“I’m going to wrap you in silk so everyone knows who you belong to,” said Quinn. He let go of August’s throat, giving him permission to speak again. “What do you say to that?”
August had no goddamn idea because the release of pressure around his throat had triggered something in his brain-to-dick communication, and he was too busy spilling cum onto his chest to form any coherent thought other than—
“Only you,” August gasped, thumping his head against the tub as his orgasm continued to knock the air out of him. “I only belong to you, Quinn. Holy shit. What the hell.”
One moan from Quinn as he followed him over the edge shattered the last of August’s restraint. He gripped the feral brunette by the hair and dragged him in for a kiss, fucking his tongue into his mouth as Quinn moaned and stroked them until they were both empty and lifeless in the water.
Quinn had his head on August’s chest and a hand still wrapped around their softening cocks, but he had enough energy to laugh while August struggled to remember what it felt like to have feet.
“When will you agree to be my boyfriend?” August asked, before his courage had a chance to leave him in the post-orgasm clarity.
Quinn’s laughter turned to giggles as he pushed himself upright, grinning. “I suppose I could be tempted if you brought home a championship ring. I hear they have lots of diamonds.”
August scoffed. His mind felt hazy, but Quinn had been right; his headache was gone. “Don’t start with that bullshit,” he said. “You’re not a materialistic person. My income is pocket change to you, remember?”
Quinn flushed, and August knew he hadn’t expected to be called out about the comment made to his mother in anger.
“If it’s a lie, I don’t give a damn,” said August. “It was funny. I bet Mom is still big mad thinking about it.”
“She’s your biological egg donor, not your mother,” was Quinn’s response.
“And it wasn’t a lie. My uncle, I don’t think you would remember him, but he’s the one my sister and I stayed with the most because we couldn’t stand our parents.
He was the reason I felt so comfortable about my sexuality, because he was a gay man like me, and he taught me how to authentically be myself during my awkward teenage years. ”
The goth days, yes. August preferred the dark pops of colours on black with the corsets Quinn wore now, but he did have fond memories of the smoking and the eyeliner.
And he did recall a whimsical uncle on Quinn’s father’s side he’d met once at an upper-class party, but he couldn’t picture his face.
“He was a famous scientist and doctor you may have heard of,” Quinn continued. “I know his greatest achievement is something that Harrison and Jett will be thankful for, if their conversations about children are anything to go by.”