by L. J. Hamlin
Tyler smiles. "I see you in here a lot. I've talked to you a fair few times. You never lost your temper with anyone. I saw one of the waitress spill a drink all over you. You helped her clean it up. I get that today wasn't an everyday thing. Defending yourself against that asshole doesn't make you a bad guy, and you stopped when I asked."
"I'm glad you get it. Thank you." Quinn takes a sip of his beer.
"So, I know you're new in town. Tell me about yourself?" Tyler asks, and the tension eases in Quinn. He hasn't blown his chance with Tyler.
Quinn tells Tyler a little about himself: his age, that he owns a motorbike repair shop, that he's not really close to his family. And then he asks Tyler about himself. Tyler is twenty-nine and training to be a vet. He's close to his family.
They talk and talk, swapping likes and dislikes, dating horror stories, tales of past relationships. Quinn finds Tyler fascinating. He's cute, friendly, with a smart, sharp, sassy sense of humour. He's playful and sweet, and Quinn finds it getting later, but he has no desire to stop talking with Tyler.
"The bar will be closing soon, and this is going to sound really forward, but I'd like to keep this night going. We can't go to my place. I live at home—it was cheaper with school. But I know this diner that stays open all night. We could grab a coffee."
"I'd like that." Quinn's been dancing around asking Tyler out for weeks, and still it took Tyler to make the first move.
Quinn pays his tab, and they head out. Quinn takes one step when a sack is pulled over his head, ropes pulling tight at his neck. He can't see. He can hear Tyler yelling before he feels the first punch.
Pain blooms in his stomach and steals his breath. The attacks start coming from all sides, and he can hear mocking laughter. Quinn scrabbles at his own neck, blunt fingers trying to loosen the rope, but he's having no luck.
Quinn breathes in, trying to smell Tyler, to get some idea if he's okay. He's hit with Greg and his two friends' scents and the smell of cheap whisky.
"Tyler, run," Quinn shouts as he's knocked to the ground.
"He shifted. I don't know where he is," one of the men yells.
Quinn hopes Tyler has listened to him and run to safety, maybe to get some help. He tries to avoid the kicks coming at him, but it's hard when he can't see where they're are coming from. But suddenly he notices the ropes around his neck coming loose, and he pulls the hood from his head and springs to his feet.
He's pissed off and hurting, and he doesn't even think before he launches himself at Greg. By the time security arrives, Quinn's pretty sure he's done at least as much damage as he's had inflicted on him. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding.
Security restrains everyone, and Quinn tries to explain that this wasn't just a fight, that he was attacked. He's looking around when a very naked Tyler appears.
"These are the assholes we kicked out earlier. They attacked us. Let him go," Tyler says, and the man holding Quinn releases him.
"We've called the police," the bouncer says.
"Why are you naked?" Quinn asks as Tyler starts picking up his clothes from the ground and putting them on, covering his gorgeous body.
"I shifted," Tyler says, and Quinn remembers one of the men yelling.
"To get away?" Quinn guesses.
"Partly. He grabbed me, and I shifted, but then I chewed through your ropes," Tyler replies, and when Quinn looks to the sack lying on the ground, he sees that the rope keeping it in place has, in fact, been chewed through.
"You might have saved my life doing that. If you hadn't gotten that hood off me, I wouldn't have been able to fight back, and I'm not sure they would've stopped. If I'd left alone..."
"I'm glad I was with you then," Tyler says, examining Quinn's face.
The police come, and the security guys hand over the tapes they have from cameras in the front of the bar, at the exit. Everyone gives statements, and finally they tell Quinn he can go.
Greg and his friends are arrested. The cop who'd asked about why the fight started is talking about them being charged for a hate crime as well as assault and possibly attempted murder.
The sun is coming up by the time the police leave.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital? You could have broken bones. Some of the bruises look really bad," Tyler says once they're alone outside of the Tin Cat.
"I can patch myself up at my place." Quinn doesn't want to go to the hospital. It's been a long night already. He doesn't want to deal with strangers poking and prodding at him.
"Want some help?" Tyler offers.
Quinn is a little shaken up by the attack. It's not something that happens to him every day, and he's shocked that Greg and his friends would go so far over something so little. He might not want to be around a lot of people, but he's not sure he wants to be alone, either.
"I'd like that." Quinn thinks he might not focus on the anger of being attacked if he's with Tyler, that he'll be able to focus more on the fact they're both okay. And he wants to spend more time with Tyler, even after the night's drama.
Quinn leads the way to his apartment. It's not too far from the bar. As they walk the short distance, though, Tyler keeps stopping to check on him, clearly worried that Quinn might be more hurt than he's letting on.
Quinn lets them into his place above the shop and gets his first aid kit out, dampening a few cloths to clean up things like his scraped knuckles. Quinn gets that far when Tyler takes over. He gently pushes Quinn down on to the couch.
"Shirt off," Tyler orders.
Quinn smirks. "I thought I was getting patched up."
"Don't be an ass. I know you got kicked and hit there. Come on, don't be a baby." Quinn removes his jacket and then his shirt, moving a little awkwardly because he did take quite the beating. "I'm going to check for broken bones and put antiseptic cream on the scratches and cuts you have," Tyler says, sitting down next to him.
"Okay." Quinn doesn't feel like arguing, so he sits back and lets Tyler poke at his chest and stomach. It hurts, so he tries to think of something else. Breathing in, he gets Tyler's scent, warm and spicy, with a hint of something like wood smoke underneath the scents of the bar clinging to him. There's a hint of old fear, from the attack, Quinn guesses, but Tyler seems calm now, his hands steady as he works.
"You got lucky. No broken ribs," Tyler says, smoothing the flat of his hands down the outside of Quinn's ribs. It makes him shiver.
"I know. With the way they were kicking, they meant business. That was quick thinking, shifting. And you could have just run away. I told you to run away, but you stayed and you saved me." Quinn still can't quite believe it. They've been flirting for weeks, sure, but they only really talked tonight. Quinn wouldn't have blamed Tyler for running away from Quinn's trouble.
"I might be a mouse, but I'm ferocious."
"You're damn sure braver than the lions that attacked us. They were cowards. I'm glad you decided to stick around and that you thought to bite through the ropes. You're smart and brave," Quinn says.
"Not all lions are brave; not all mice are cowards. Those three guys were cowards. They'd have never tried to take you in a fair fight. Even in the bar when he tried to hit you, he did it when you weren't ready. I'm glad they arrested them. I'll give evidence in court, if you need me to," Tyler offers.
"Thank you. I doubt they'll plead guilty, but between you, me, and the tapes from the Tin Cat, they should get convicted," Quinn says hopefully.
"I'm going to wrap your hands while they heal. I know it won't take you long, but I don't want to risk you getting an infection while the wounds are open," Tyler says. He gets bandages out of the first aid kit, and starts wrapping Quinn's injured hands.
"Thanks for all this," Quinn says. "Do you need to get home? Can you stay for a drink?"
Tyler finishes bandaging and deftly ties it off before smoothing his hands gently over his work. "I could use a drink."
Quinn gets up and goes to his kitchen. He grabs a bottle of whisky and two glasses, then
returns to the living room. "Whiskey okay?" When Tyler nods, Quinn pours them both out a measure. They clink glasses and then take a drink.
"So, I was thinking. I could make up for tonight by taking you on a nice date?"
"You don't have to make up for anything, but I'd like to go on a date with you... I'd like..." Tyler trails off, blushing.
"What would you like?" Quinn asks. He sips from his glass and puts it down on the coffee table in front of him.
"I'm not usually this forward, but I'd kind of like to stay the night," Tyler says, and his cheeks are practically glowing, he's blushing so hard.
"You want to stay, you can stay," Quinn says, reaching out to stroke one of Tyler's cheeks.
"I don't want you getting the wrong idea about me. I don't come home with guys from the bar every week. But I like you, and I was always taught to not let things in life pass me by. I want to be with you. I got butterflies in my stomach the first time you said hello. If that's too much, if you're not looking for something serious, you can tell me. It'll be cool," Tyler says in a rush.
"Slow down," Quinn says, cupping Tyler's cheek. "Let me get this straight? You like me a lot, right?" Quinn asks.
Tyler nods. "Yeah."
"I like you too. And you want a relationship?" Quinn is hopeful. He's dated on and off all his adult life. He's had good relationships and bad, but he's thirty-eight. He's been thinking more about settling down, and Tyler's the kind of guy he pictures doing that with.
"Yeah, I want to date you. Exclusively. I don't do open relationships. And you seem special, different," Tyler says softly, and he leans into the hand Quinn has on his cheek.
"I don't do open relationships either. I'm not like a jealous guy. I've never had a problem with my partner spending time with their friends and family, but if I knew I was sharing them that way? I couldn't do it. Does that make sense? For me, sex is between two people. My brother's poly, and that works great for him. The three of them are so in love, but I'm a one-on-one guy." Quinn doesn't want Tyler thinking he's some kind of jealous ogre, because he's not, but he can be possessive, loyal. When he's with someone, he's with only them, and he wants the same from them.
"So we're on the same page. If we get together, it'd be just the two of us. I'd like that. I want to get to know you, everything about you. At first I was just being shallow. I liked you because you were hot, but then every time I spoke to you, when I saw you speaking with other people, I knew I wanted more, and tonight has made me sure of that." Tyler leans in when he finishes talking and kisses Quinn sweetly. Tyler had seemed shy at first, despite being a flirt. He'd blushed when he got a response, but once again he's proven to be brave when he needs to be.
Quinn deepens the chaste kiss for a few seconds, slipping his tongue into Tyler's mouth, getting a small taste of him before he eases the kiss to a stop.
"I've mainly been coming to the Tin Cat because of you. First time I came because it was the closest bar to my shop. But it's not the food or beer that has kept me coming for over a month. That was everything to do with the cute mouse flirting with me." Quinn grins.
"I like to flirt, just to make people smile, you know? I normally stick to flirting with women who don't take it seriously. But I couldn't resist flirting with you, even though Anne teased me about it," Tyler replies.
"You said you want to stay the night. Do you want to stay the night in my bed with me, or do you want me to sleep on the couch while you take the bed?"
"I want to be in your bed, with you in it. " Tyler smiles.
"Well, I don't want to feel like I'm pressuring you into anything. I want to know what you want, so I'm going to ask you to tell me what you want from me tonight." Quinn smirks, loving the way Tyler's cheeks are already turning pink.
"I want to spend the night alone with you, in bed with you. Isn't that obvious enough for you?" Tyler asks.
"You could just want to sleep, and that's cool. You've been working; you might just want to relax, get to know me slowly." Quinn wouldn't be pissed if that were the case. He likes cuddling. He's always slept better with someone in his arms, but he has a feeling that isn't all that Tyler wants. He's not getting embarrassed about asking to have a simple sleepover.
"I don't want to sleep. Well, I want to sleep, but after." Tyler puts his hands on Quinn's bare chest, balling them into fists before spreading them out flat. He looks a little frustrated, like he knows what he wants but maybe isn't daring enough to ask for it.
It feels almost cruel to force Tyler to put it into words, but Quinn doesn't want to put words into his mouth. One of them is going to have to say something because otherwise they'll be sitting here all night talking in circles.
"Do you want me to fuck you?" Quinn blurts out. He feels like he's a teenager again, nervous and unsure.
Tyler's response is to kiss Quinn again, his hands moving from Quinn's chest to wrap around him and pull their bodies closer to each other. It seems Tyler only gets shy over asking for things, but is more than okay with showing what he wants, as he all but crawls into Quinn's lap.
Quinn wraps his own arms around Tyler's small waist, holding Tyler in his lap, sliding one hand up the back of Tyler's shirt. Tyler breaks the kiss and pulls off his own shirt before leaning back in and kissing Quinn roughly.
"Want to take this to my room?" Quinn asks, drawing back from the kiss.
"Yes," Tyler replies, leaning in and pressing kisses to Quinn's neck.
Quinn gets a firm grip on Tyler, and then stands up, taking Tyler with him. Tyler gasps and then laughs, clinging to Quinn. Quinn grins. He'd hoped Tyler would like his caveman routine.
He carries Tyler into his bedroom and carefully lowers Tyler onto his king-sized bed. Quinn stays at the end of the bed and reaches out to remove Tyler's shoes for him. Tyler's eyes are on him the whole time, full of heat.
Once he's dropped Tyler's shoes, Quinn removes his own, then unzips his jeans and shimmies them down his hips, along with his underwear. Tyler watches him undress, then starts taking off his own jeans, but he fumbles because he's watching Quinn.
"Socks off," Tyler orders, pulling his own off.
"Good idea," Quinn agrees, doing the same. He hates when guys in porn leave their socks on during sex, and he never leaves his own on when he's with a partner.
Once Quinn is completely nude apart from his bandages, he goes to the side of his bed and the box he keeps under it, where he keeps things like sex toys, lube, and condoms. For now, he just takes out condoms and lube.
Tyler welcomes him into the bed with arms open, pulling Quinn closer, lips coming up to meet his, and Quinn responds hungrily. Tyler runs his nails down Quinn's back, over his ass, probably not hard enough to mark, which Quinn thinks is a shame. He'd like to be marked by Tyler, but with the way shifters heal quickly, things like light scratches, even if Tyler did make them, would be gone by morning.
They kiss, bodies twining, chests pressing together, hard cocks rubbing on naked bellies, long legs rubbing together, leg hairs prickling each other's skin. Quinn is thinking about taking things to the next step when Tyler takes things into his own hands. He rolls so that he's on top of Quinn. Grabbing the condom, he rolls it on to Quinn's cock. The contact all too brief, but enough to make Quinn's hips buck.
Next, Tyler takes the lube and pours some out onto his own fingers. Quinn then watches as Tyler reaches between his own legs, behind his erect cock, and fingers himself. He looks amazing: lean chest, long legs, blushing cock, showing that the pink blush on his cheeks does, in fact, spread all over.
"I think you're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Quinn says.
Tyler smiles, and he has a gorgeous smile. Quinn had thought so the first time he'd seen it, when Tyler had come to take his drink order. But it's even better now, when Tyler is wearing nothing but that smile.
Quinn runs his hands up the long line of Tyler's back and down again, settling on his hips.
Tyler leans in for a quick kiss and then straightens again. He
stretches himself for a while, before withdrawing his fingers and wrapping them around Quinn's cock smearing the lube that remains onto Quinn.
Quinn grips Tyler's hips as Tyler wraps a hand around the base of his cock and starts lowering himself onto it. Quinn moans at the tight heat, and Tyler easily takes every inch Quinn has to offer.
The first few thrusts are far from perfect as they aren't quite in time with each other, but then Tyler puts his hands on Quinn's, over his hips, and shows Quinn the pace he wants to set, and Quinn thrusts each time Tyler rolls his hips.
After that it's as close to perfect as Quinn thinks anything can be. They move together, both panting, chests heaving. When Quinn can get a spare breath, he pulls Tyler down for a long kiss, thrusting his tongue inside of Tyler at the same time as his cock penetrates Tyler's body.
Quinn tries to keep things slow, not wanting to hurt Tyler, but it's like Tyler can read his mind, and he starts to move faster, arching his back with every thrust. He moves so fast that Quinn is probably going to have bruises on his hips, and he loves the thought of that. He's carrying dozens of bruises from tonight. He wants some that he chose to have.
"I'm going to come," Quinn says, reaching out and wrapping his hand around Tyler's cock, stroking it in time to the movement of their bodies.
He holds on as long as he can, stroking Tyler to push him towards the edge Quinn is rushing towards. But Quinn comes first, his orgasm exploding inside of him. Quinn's head falls back, his neck straining. Pleasure races through his body, until everything relaxes.
Quinn gets his breath back and starts stroking Tyler's cock again as Tyler lifts off of Quinn's softening cock. Tyler leans down over Quinn, kissing him deeply as Quinn strokes him.
Not long after Quinn found himself lost in pleasure, Tyler joins him, spilling his release onto Quinn's stomach. Tyler collapses onto him, lying on Quinn's chest, breathing heavily. Eventually his breathing calms down, and he rolls off of Quinn and tucks himself under Quinn's arm.