Wine Red
Title:Wine Red
Author:moi
Summary: The sequel to We Intertwined. Jepha's side of the story, sort of.
A/n: yeah, this one isn't as good. it sounded better in my head. also, I have been listening to The Hush Sound for 48 hours now, so yeah, that's where the names come from. they really have nothing to do with the story.
Wine Red (sequel to We Intertwined)
I can tell that he thinks I don't care. Not because he's said anything,(when Quinn's upset he gets quiet and stoic like that), but because I know Quinn. He thinks I didn't do it on purpose, he thinks that I'm an asshole.
He's right.
God, what posessed me to say that to him, when I was such a fucking hypocrite? Just, fucking why? I know what he's like, Quinn, I know that he's not an idiot, that he loves movies, that he likes to be pretty and has a shy smile and his skin is soft, and now,(as of last night), I know exactly what his face looks like as he comes, and I know that in that moment he had never looked more beautiful, even in the half-light of my bunk. And I know that he felt it too, whatever it was that passed between us in those wee hours of the morning when time forgot us.
He makes me want to snuggle up to him and breathe in his neck to make him giggle. He makes me want to feed him fruit so I can kiss his lips, and lick away the pure sweetness. He makes me want him in more ways than should be physically possible, not this fast, not this much.
We're at a truckstop somewhere in Idaho, and Quinn is outside, and he's kicking the bus. I can hear the dull thuds. And he's muttering, and I strain to hear what he's saying too, and it's "fuck,fuck,fuck" over and over, and the quiet violence in his voice should freak me out but instead I find myself walking out barefoot into the windy, baleful 3 am Idaho morning, and turing Quinn around by the shoulder.
And he turns around and slams me into the side of the buss and I'm amazed because we're still making barely any noise at all and having him this close to me is making me feel like I'm not getting enough oxygen.
"I am not fucking girly." He hisses.
And really, I can't help but laugh in his face. "Yes you are Quinn."
He sags, not exactly against me, more like into himself, but I can feel his body heat, and I sigh.
"That came out wrong. I just--I'm sorry Quinn. I know you're not a girl, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings-"
"You didn't--" He starts gruffly, looking away, but I've become practiced at guessing when someone is holding back tears, and right then, I know exactly what I've done to him, and I'm more sorry than I have been before.
"Yes I did, Quinnie. And I'm sorry. I just--last night was scary. And I can't really handle being scared by one of my best friends. But-- fuck this is so hard."
Quinn lifts his head and stares at me. I think he's smiling, but I can't tell because I'm afraid to look at him.
"Jepha..."
"I find myself wanting to take care of you." I said, concentrating hard on the gas pump a few yards from us. I am not going to look at him. I have to do this. "I want to... bring you flowers, I want to sleep with you, I want to buy you stickers. Most of all, I really want to have sex again... you know that's the first time anyone's fucked me? I just--I need you."
And now I'm looking up and he's smiling, he's smiling and the sunrise must have come 3 hours early, and we're kissing, he's kissing me, and I can taste the smile on his lips. And god. God, this is good.
"Hey," I say finally. Pulling away is like cutting off my hand. "Let's go inside."
Quinn hugs me close, and then stops me as I turn to get back on the bus.
"Wait," he says and he looks up at me, and i want to kiss his nose so I do.
"What?"
"Buy me stickers?"
So we walk across the parking lot to the gast station, and I buy him stickers. When he asks for pink ones, I call him Quinnifer again, and this time he smiles at me.
Author:moi
Summary: The sequel to We Intertwined. Jepha's side of the story, sort of.
A/n: yeah, this one isn't as good. it sounded better in my head. also, I have been listening to The Hush Sound for 48 hours now, so yeah, that's where the names come from. they really have nothing to do with the story.
Wine Red (sequel to We Intertwined)
I can tell that he thinks I don't care. Not because he's said anything,(when Quinn's upset he gets quiet and stoic like that), but because I know Quinn. He thinks I didn't do it on purpose, he thinks that I'm an asshole.
He's right.
God, what posessed me to say that to him, when I was such a fucking hypocrite? Just, fucking why? I know what he's like, Quinn, I know that he's not an idiot, that he loves movies, that he likes to be pretty and has a shy smile and his skin is soft, and now,(as of last night), I know exactly what his face looks like as he comes, and I know that in that moment he had never looked more beautiful, even in the half-light of my bunk. And I know that he felt it too, whatever it was that passed between us in those wee hours of the morning when time forgot us.
He makes me want to snuggle up to him and breathe in his neck to make him giggle. He makes me want to feed him fruit so I can kiss his lips, and lick away the pure sweetness. He makes me want him in more ways than should be physically possible, not this fast, not this much.
We're at a truckstop somewhere in Idaho, and Quinn is outside, and he's kicking the bus. I can hear the dull thuds. And he's muttering, and I strain to hear what he's saying too, and it's "fuck,fuck,fuck" over and over, and the quiet violence in his voice should freak me out but instead I find myself walking out barefoot into the windy, baleful 3 am Idaho morning, and turing Quinn around by the shoulder.
And he turns around and slams me into the side of the buss and I'm amazed because we're still making barely any noise at all and having him this close to me is making me feel like I'm not getting enough oxygen.
"I am not fucking girly." He hisses.
And really, I can't help but laugh in his face. "Yes you are Quinn."
He sags, not exactly against me, more like into himself, but I can feel his body heat, and I sigh.
"That came out wrong. I just--I'm sorry Quinn. I know you're not a girl, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings-"
"You didn't--" He starts gruffly, looking away, but I've become practiced at guessing when someone is holding back tears, and right then, I know exactly what I've done to him, and I'm more sorry than I have been before.
"Yes I did, Quinnie. And I'm sorry. I just--last night was scary. And I can't really handle being scared by one of my best friends. But-- fuck this is so hard."
Quinn lifts his head and stares at me. I think he's smiling, but I can't tell because I'm afraid to look at him.
"Jepha..."
"I find myself wanting to take care of you." I said, concentrating hard on the gas pump a few yards from us. I am not going to look at him. I have to do this. "I want to... bring you flowers, I want to sleep with you, I want to buy you stickers. Most of all, I really want to have sex again... you know that's the first time anyone's fucked me? I just--I need you."
And now I'm looking up and he's smiling, he's smiling and the sunrise must have come 3 hours early, and we're kissing, he's kissing me, and I can taste the smile on his lips. And god. God, this is good.
"Hey," I say finally. Pulling away is like cutting off my hand. "Let's go inside."
Quinn hugs me close, and then stops me as I turn to get back on the bus.
"Wait," he says and he looks up at me, and i want to kiss his nose so I do.
"What?"
"Buy me stickers?"
So we walk across the parking lot to the gast station, and I buy him stickers. When he asks for pink ones, I call him Quinnifer again, and this time he smiles at me.