Quentin & Gabriel, Wednesday evening

[xp-erverse.livejournal.com]

Quentin replies to Gabriel's text message. Not really NSFW but still implications of sexy times.


"So here I was, thinking you'd seen enough of me," Quentin said amusedly as he pushed open the door to Gabriel's suite and stepped inside. "You'd think after two days . . . Oh." Whatever else he was going to say was quickly forgotten at the sight of Gabriel. He'd figured from the tone of the text what the other guy wanted, but actually seeing it with his own eyes was something almost worth praising God for.

Gabriel responded to Quentin's silence with his cockiest possible smirk. "Hi," he said, making one syllable as flirtatious and charged as it could possibly be. "See," he said, turning away from the door and back to his TV, "there are benefits to living alone."

This was true. Sitting on your couch in your underwear eating pizza was one. Watching porn without worrying about an interruption or intrusion was another.

Gabriel had decided to combine the two. After a night of weed-assisted decompressing, this was the most corporeal activity he could think of. Cheese-fueled gluttony and lust. What better way to celebrate the carnality he had taken so for granted?

Well, okay. Minutes earlier, a moan from the TV screen (thank you, Apple TV) reminded him that there were other ways. Fun ways. And that's why he'd texted Quentin.

"You know," he turned, the smirk still on his face, "you might want to shut the door."

Quentin did not have to be asked twice. With a speed that would make Gabriel proud, the telepath shut the door and crossed the distance of the room to Gabriel. "You know, usually this scenario is I bring pizza to you and then you have to find a way to pay me because you can't find your wallet. You're violating tradition here," he said, smirking as he tossed his jacket to the side and got down on his knees.

"Yeah?" Gabriel grinned. "Bet I can find a way to make it up to you." He tossed his phone on the coffee table, trading it for the TV remote. "Besides," he hit the mute button, then looked back down at Quentin, "you talk so much, I bet that would have taken an hour, at least." He lifted Quentin's chin toward him and, in a surprisingly aggressive move, bent down to kiss him. "I don't like to wait."

Quentin returned the kiss with equal vigor and only reluctantly pulled away when Gabriel did. "Maybe it's time you learned some patience," Quentin teased, running his hands slowly up Gabriel's bare thighs. Although that made him reconsider. "Maaaaybe not tonight, though."

***

They made it to the bed. Gabriel was particularly proud of that - he'd anticipated they'd get caught up in the moment and end up fucking on the couch, which would have been fine, but there was hardly as much room to maneuver.

Not that they were maneuvering now. Gabriel was lying on his bed, wrapped in the sheets, with Quentin's head against his chest. He'd briefly considered lighting a cigarette, but the whole thing was so cliche, in a way that having sex after sharing a brain wasn't.

So no smoking. Instead, they had the majority of a pizza, which he'd barely made a dent on before getting distracted by porn and the promise of Quentin's mouth. Not that Gabriel was particularly hungry, but it was something.

"So." He decided it was time to break the post-orgasm silence. "Better or worse?"`

"Better or worse'n what?" Quentin asked groggily, tracing random designs on Gabriel's abs. It was an equally silly and cliche thing to do, but hey, abs. Everyone deserves a nice six pack to fondle every so often.

"The last time." Gabriel reached for the pizza box with the arm that wasn't around Quentin. "When you thought I was like, 30 or whatever." It was a bit of a struggle, but he managed to pop open the top and grab a piece of pepperoni. "Just wondering."

"I could get that for you, you know." A slice lifted itself out of the box, but dropped back down when Quentin saw the topping. "Ugh, pepperoni. Never mind. I'm veg. And I never thought you were 30. You wouldn't've been allowed anywhere near the bar if you were that old."

"Didn't answer my question." Gabriel tore the crust off the piece in his hand, dropping the rest of it back into the box. "But whatever." He took a bite, chewed for a bit and swallowed. "I can get a second pizza, you know. It's no problem."

Quentin shrugged. "I really don't care. Doesn't matter, anyway." The slice he had discarded rose up again, shedding pepperonis like a tree losing its leaves in the fall. He shrugged out of Gabriel's embrace so he could sit up (right up next to him, though, as if he could not bear to give up any body contact) and took a large bite out of his unmeatified meal. "And the answer is 'better.' For one, I remember everything this time."

"Oh. Yeah. Fair enough." Gabriel shifted his arm back to his side as Quentin moved, but his leg drifted a bit to achieve a kind of contact equilibrium. "Everything that happened was fucking awful, but the flip side of all that shit is that every part of my body feels amazing right now. I mean, not just being in my body, but, like..." He shrugged, unsure how to finish that sentence. "Point being, you give great head."

That earned a snort of laughter. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all week. And, you know, you were just accusing me of talking too much, hmm? And I've barely said a word." Quentin jokingly but gently elbowed Gabriel and stuffed the rest of his slice into his mouth. "I get it, though," he said after he'd half-swallowed it, "That sorta disconnect is fucked up."

Gabriel shrugged again. He tore off another piece of crust and popped it into his mouth. "I missed the sound of my voice," he said matter-of-factly. "Can't help it."

Pizza consumed, Quentin reclaimed his spot on Gabriel's chest, though now his hand wandered down beneath the sheets to Gabriel's thigh. "Hey, do you mind if I crash here tonight? I mean, I get it if you want to continue your bender uninterrupted, but I've got weed and, you know, I'll make your morning worthwhile. Just . . . the last thing I need after this is to go back to that fucking psycho I live with."

"Sure," Gabriel said, yawning and stretching a bit before settling more into a pillow. "Yeah. 'S fine. Might run out and make a beer run in a bit, but won't take long."

Quentin eyed the detritus on Gabriel's nightstand and smirked. "Get more condoms, too."