Chapter 15
Quentin & Joel
Keeping his hands off of Joel as they rode the elevator up to his apartment was one of the most difficult things Quentin had ever done.
His entire body felt electrified and on fire.
He wanted to seize Joel and press him against the brass wall of the elevator, kissing him and touching him and grinding their bodies together.
But he waited.
He had been patient for so long, and he didn’t want to be patient anymore.
He had been running on an adrenaline high the entire time he’d enacted the plan he’d made with Henri.
It had been Henri who had figured out that Quentin and Joel would be in New York City at the same time: Quentin for a hockey game, Joel for the Empire Gala.
A small amount of Internet sleuthing had revealed where Joel lived in New York.
Quentin hadn’t known for sure when Joel would get back from the gala, or if he’d even come home.
Maybe he was going to an afterparty, or maybe he was going home with someone else.
Joel didn’t owe him anything, though Quentin certainly would’ve appreciated at least an explanation for what had happened in Tampa.
He wasn’t expecting Joel to have Ariadne on his arm when he walked into the lobby.
At first, Quentin had been crestfallen. It made him wonder if Joel and Ariadne really were a couple, even if their relationship was all PR.
But then Joel had seen Quentin across the lobby, and there had been no way for Quentin to escape.
But Joel hadn’t looked angry to see him.
He looked like Quentin felt: sick with longing and unanswered questions.
Now they were in the elevator, and Quentin wanted Joel more badly than he’d wanted anything in his life.
The elevator dinged. “This is me,” Joel said.
Quentin followed him automatically out of the elevator, down a short hallway, and to an apartment door. He barely registered Joel’s absurd costume, which made him look like a Greek god in modern day. It was fitting. Joel had the beauty of a Greek god.
Joel fumbled with his key. He opened the door to a large, well-decorated apartment. It had a cozy feel to it and a great view of the city.
“It’s beautiful,” Quentin said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say as he followed Joel into the apartment.
“Thank you,” Joel said quietly. They stood for a moment in the foyer, facing each other, neither of them saying anything.
Quentin felt the impulse to speak first, but he held himself back.
He’d made the first move by coming here.
His cards weren’t fully on the table, but Joel had at least seen a glimpse of them. It was up to Joel, now.
Joel took a breath. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Why did you run away in Tampa?” Quentin whispered. He hadn’t meant to ask it, but the words came out on their own.
Joel nodded. “Right.” He met Quentin’s gaze, and his eyes were wide and worried. It was an expression filled with regret. “I’m sorry. I wish that I hadn’t. I was afraid.”
Quentin took a small step closer to Joel. “Afraid of what? Afraid of me?”
“No,” Joel said in a very soft voice.
“Then, of what?” Quentin took another step closer. He needed to be close to Joel. He needed to breathe the same air if he couldn’t feel Joel’s skin on his. He’d never felt this need for someone else before. It was all-consuming, like withdrawal from a powerful drug.
“I’m afraid of how I feel,” Joel whispered.
Quentin had almost closed the distance between him and Joel. He could feel the heat of Joel’s body and saw the sparkle of glitter in the makeup around his eyes. He smelled Joel’s cologne and a hint of sweat from a long day.
“How do you feel?” Quentin murmured. He wanted to kiss Joel so badly, but he waited. Instead, he brought a gentle hand up and brushed at the locks of golden-brown hair that had fallen across his forehead. Joel shivered at Quentin’s touch.
Joel took a shaky breath. “I feel…consumed.”
Quentin touched Joel’s cheek, and Joel closed his eyes, leaning into Quentin’s touch.
“I want you, Quentin,” he murmured. “I want you so badly. I fucked up in Tampa, and I shouldn’t have run from how I felt.
It felt so right, and so natural, and it terrified me.
I’m sorry for running.” He opened his eyes.
“You have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Quentin whispered. He raised his other hand so that he was cupping Joel’s face. “Don’t be sorry. Just kiss me again. Kiss me, please, because I know how badly you’ve wanted it. It’s consumed me, too.”
Their kiss was softer than the first kiss in the alley. In Tampa, Joel had been afraid and a little angry. He’d been consumed by his passion, and that kiss had felt like a shout. This kiss wasn’t a shout. They sank into this kiss, melted into it.
Joel had one hand on Quentin’s hip, the other in Quentin’s hair, as Quentin pulled him closer.
Quentin’s mouth was warm on his, and gentle, and searching.
Joel’s entire body trembled, a thrill of passion and desire coursing through him.
He pressed himself against Quentin, deepening their kiss, begging for more with his body.
He felt Quentin’s tongue against his lips, and he opened his mouth to Quentin.
He felt like he was becoming one with his desire.
They were two flames flickering together, the heat of their passion pulling them closer.
Joel let Quentin press him against the wall. All reservations he had had, any worry, any fear, vanished. He was hungry for Quentin, and he wanted to give himself over to the other man.
“Fuck,” Joel whispered. “Fuck, Quentin.”
Quentin buried his face in Joel’s neck, kissing and sucking and making sinful noises of pleasure.
“You’re perfect,” Quentin whispered into Joel’s skin, kissing up his neck. Joel squirmed in pleasure, and he pulled Quentin’s mouth to his. The kiss was sloppy, hungry, full of passion and need.
He needed Quentin. He needed him now. He needed him for every angry jibe they’d made at each other, every snide comment. It had all been foreplay, bringing them here.
“I need you,” Quentin whispered, as if he’d read Joel’s mind. “Even if that ridiculous costume, I need you.”
“Have me,” Joel gasped, and it was all he could say before he felt Quentin’s hands under his shirt, warm and rough on the skin of his stomach.
He groaned and tipped his head back as Quentin explored Joel’s body with his hands, and leaned down to kiss Joel’s bare chest, where his costume was open to expose his skin.
He moaned when Quentin’s mouth found his left nipple.
Quentin sucked Joel’s nipple, biting down slightly on it, sending a thrill of arousal through Joel’s body.
They were pressed together, and he could feel Quentin’s hard cock straining for release against Joel’s hip. Joel needed it to be free. He needed to taste Quentin, and needed to now.
He dropped to his knees, fumbling with Quentin’s zipper. “Get it out,” he gasped, as he unzipped Quentin’s pants, revealing the bulge in his underwear, with a dark spot of precum already staining the cotton.
Quentin let out a moan that sounded almost like a growl, and freed his cock from his underwear.
Joel sucked in a breath. Quentin’s cock was long and thick.
He was uncut and had heavy balls and a thick, dark bush.
Joel wanted to bury his face in the bush, smell Quentin’s musky scent, and now he realized that he could.
Every fantasy he’d kept of Quentin and his body, visiting them in the dark secrecy of night, could be lived out.
He wrapped his fingers around the base of Quentin’s cock and began to stroke gently.
“Fuck, Joel,” Quentin murmured, biting his lip and looking down at him. Joel smiled up at him.
“You like that?” he whispered.
“I like how you look with my cock in your face,” Quentin said.
In answer, Joel licked the head of Quentin’s cock, tasting the precum that dripped from Quentin’s slit.
It was salty and perfect. He wanted it all.
He swirled his tongue around the head of Quentin’s cock, while stroking the base with his hands.
He would take his time, he decided. He wouldn’t rush this.
He had waited so long to do this, and he didn’t want to miss a single moment.
He wanted to savor every part of Quentin, to worship him with his mouth.
Quentin wasn’t prepared for the electrifying pleasure he felt when Joel took the head of his cock in his mouth.
Joel’s mouth was hot and wet, and he never broke eye contact with Quentin as he began to suck Quentin off.
In one hand, he cupped Quentin’s balls, massaging and fondling them, while with the other, he stroked the base of Quentin’s cock.
Quentin tried to steady his breathing as Joel took more and more of him into his mouth, bobbing and sucking.
He wanted to fuck Joel’s throat, to fill Joel’s mouth with his cum, but he didn’t want this to be over. He wanted it to last forever, and so he wasn’t going to rush anything about their hookup. If it could only happen this one time, he would make it count.
Sucking Quentin’s cock was the perfect experience.
His cock was so big that it filled Joel’s mouth, and Joel had barely half of it in his mouth before it hit the back of his throat.
He wouldn’t let himself stop there and took as much of Quentin’s cock into his throat as he could bear, damning whatever his vocal coaches would say to him.
When Quentin started to thrust slowly into Joel’s mouth, Joel moaned around Quentin’s cock.
“Good,” Quentin whispered, running his hands through Joel’s hair. “You’re taking it so well. You’re so good at this.”
The praise made Joel even more aroused. He forced Quentin’s pants further down his thighs so that he could grip Quentin’s muscular ass, pushing Quentin’s cock deeper into his throat until he nearly choked on it.