Quentin stepped in and cupped his cheek with a gentle hand. Augustus couldn't help but lean into it, feeling that touch way deeper than just on his skin. The effect Quentin had on him was like magic.
"We have a lot to talk about, baby, you and me. And we will, I promise. But we both need to sleep, and I would very much like to do that together. But I also want to make sure I'm not crossing your boundaries, so you'll need to speak up if I do something you don't want."
Augustus nodded almost automatically but then reconsidered. Quentin had said speaking up, and that was not as easy for him as it sounded. He didn't like talking. He never had. If he could get away with nonverbal communication, he would. If Quentin counted on him to speak up and do it fast when needed, he could be in trouble because it usually took a while to overcome that barrier to use his voice.
"I don't l-like t-t-talking," he said softly.
Quentin's eyes narrowed in confusion, but then understanding washed over his face. "You need something else than words."
He seemed to think about it for a few seconds, and Augustus waited patiently. He had no doubt Quentin would figure something out.
"How about we do this?" Quentin released his cheek and tapped his shoulder three times in a row with his fingers. "You can use your hands, your foot, make a sound with your tongue, or snap your fingers, but as soon as you make that succession of three, I will stop immediately."
Augustus nodded, then realized this was not something he could agree to without words. Sometimes, Quentin would need the words from him, and this was one of those times. "Yes. That w-will w-w-work."
Quentin curled both his hands around Augustus’s cheeks and leaned in for a velvety, intimate kiss. "Good. Now, let's sleep." Augustus opened his mouth to point out he still had to do his safety round. Quentin waved his hand. "You go check on whatever it is you need to check on. I'll wait here for you, and if I fall asleep in the meantime, well, you'll just have to carry me to bed, now won't you?"
Augustus grinned at him. Somehow, that didn't seem like a threat at all.
He dressed quickly, then whistled for Lucy to come. He chuckled when he saw the silent complaint in her eyes that she needed to go outside when she'd been so warm and comfortable inside. Still, when he opened the door, she darted past him and happily jumped around in the snow for a bit.
He did his usual check, making sure all the cameras around his property were on, that the gates were closed, and that the snow was undisturbed of footprints. Not that he expected any trouble on a night like this, but he'd learned to be careful.
Revenge was a powerful motivation to do stupid stuff, and so was anger, bitterness, hatred toward the person they blamed for ruining their lives. In a way, he understood, but that didn't mean he tolerated vandalism on his property or the multiple attempts to break in and steal things from him. Since the sheriff's department offered him little courtesy, let alone protection, he was on his own here, hence the multiple security measures he'd taken to keep people out. It seemed to work as it had been a while since he'd had any problems.
When they got back inside, he dried Lucy off with one of the old towels he had stacked near the front door, then took off his jacket and snow pants and used that same towel to mop the floor and remove all the snow that had fallen off his boots. He hung the towel in the mudroom, then walked into the living room.
Quentin lay stretched out on the couch, a blanket pulled up to his chin. His eyes were closed, and Augustus took a few seconds to study him in the soft light from the dying fire. It couldn't last, he knew that. He had nothing to offer Quentin, nothing to make him want to stay. But he would take him as long as he could have him, as long as Quentin wanted him.
He scooped him up from the couch, startled for a second when Quentin's eyes opened. He looked at Augustus with heavy-lidded eyes and a sweet smile on his lips. "Mmm, I like it when you hold me like this," he all but purred. "You're so big and strong."
Augustus held him close to his chest as he carried Quentin to his bedroom, reveling in the very caveman-like emotions inside him. Who would've thought it could do so much to him to be admired for his physical strength? It aroused a primitive feeling inside him, the urge to protect Quentin, to take care of him, to make sure he was safe. How that coexisted with this deep need to submit to him, Augustus wasn't sure, but they would figure it out.
His bedroom was chilly, and he shivered as he gently lowered Quentin onto his bed. "Do you w-want anything from your s-suitcase? P-p-paj-jamas? Toothb-brush?"
"I can't be bothered right now. I guess that means it's your job to keep me warm tonight. You up for that, big guy?"
Augustus nodded. He could do that. He swallowed as Quentin sat up on the edge of the bed, then got up and undressed as fast as he could. He didn't have much time to admire his body because Quentin was under the covers within two seconds after getting naked, but the thought that he was waiting for him there made Augustus swallow again.
"Get naked," Quentin said, and it wasn't a question.
Augustus picked up Quentin's clothes first, folded them quickly, and hung them neatly over the clothes rack he had in his room. His own clothes followed, and he reveled in the sight of someone else's presence in his bedroom, a warm feeling unfurling in his belly.
"Get your ass in bed," Quentin told him, and Augustus hurried over to obey.
As soon as he was under the covers, Quentin practically positioned himself on top of Augustus, and he held him close, sensations thundering through him at the skin-to-skin contact. His cock, which had been half-hard since picking Quentin up from the couch, sprang to full attention, and for a few seconds, he was worried about Quentin's reaction. But Quentin merely chuckled and gave his cock a gentle squeeze, which had Augustus gasping.
"You'll have to wait till tomorrow, but we’re not done yet," Quentin said, his voice low and sexy.
It sounded like a promise, which only fueled the fire inside Augustus. He accepted that nothing would happen tonight, and after Quentin fell asleep within minutes, he lay awake for a long time, too excited to sleep.
It wasn't just the physical excitement, though it was a tad hard to find sleep when your body wanted release. It was the emotional satisfaction of having someone in his bed, in his arms. And not just anyone, but Quentin, this beautiful, gorgeous man who made Augustus feel things he never felt before, who made his body experience things he'd never had before, who made him have hope again.
Hope was never pointless, he’d told Quentin, and how true was that. For so long, he had felt like he'd had no way out, like he would forever be stuck and buried in this place, in this town, between these people who hated him so much.
But Quentin offered him a way out, and Augustus would take it, even if it was only temporary. Even if it was only an escape through sex, through an emotional connection, through being whoever and whatever Quentin needed him to be. He would find hope and comfort in that human connection for as long as it lasted. Maybe it would be enough to sustain him until he was done here.
16
Quentin woke up in an empty bed the next morning and decided he didn't like that one bit. When he checked the time on the alarm clock, however, he realized it was almost nine thirty in the morning. Since it was a Monday, Augustus had probably gotten up early for work. He couldn't fault the man for that. Didn't mean he wasn't a little disappointed.