“Hey, I let you massage me.”
“For like all of two minutes.” Quill’s laugh was warm and rich. “We’re gonna work on that later. But for right now, how about you let me make us both feel good.”
Mouth claiming Owen’s in a possessive kiss, Quill drew Owen closer, until their torsos rubbed together and legs tangled. Much as Owen generally liked being in charge, he could admit that this was nice, following the kiss to see what Quill had in mind. Which was apparently unraveling Owen slowly, maddeningly soft slides of lips and tongue, and gentle strokes of his large hand exploring Owen’s sides and back until Owen was moaning, desperate for more than the glancing brush of Quill’s cock against his own.
“Need something?” Quill’s eyes glittered as his hand worked its way between their bodies to rub Owen’s stomach.
“Touch me.” Owen strained against Quill, trying to free his left hand, but Quill held fast, only laughing at his struggle.
“I’ll get you there. Promise.”
“In this century?” Voice perilously close to a whine, Owen trembled, body not sure it liked feeling this out of control.
“Maybe even this decade.” Kissing him again, Quill lined up their cocks in his hand, jacking them together at a glacial pace. The pressure of Quill’s thick cock against his had him moaning again, especially when Quill did this thing on the upstroke that made their cockheads drag against each other.
“Faster.” Owen rocked his hips, trying to urge Quill into a more purposeful rhythm.
“Slowly,” Quill countered. “I’ve missed kissing you like crazy. I want to savor this.”
“You just like torturing me.”
“That too.” Quill laughed wickedly before deepening the kiss, thoroughly plundering Owen’s mouth as his hand gradually sped up until they were both groaning, kiss losing finesse.
“Yeah. That.” Owen’s head fell back, and Quill lavished kisses on his exposed neck. “Come on.”
“Ask me,” Quill demanded, taking a page straight out of Owen’s usual playbook.
“Get me off. Please. Need to come.”
“Yeah, you do.” Voice gruff, Quill loosened his grip, giving Owen more of a green light to fuck into his fist, driving their cocks together faster. Quill thrust too, their cockheads rubbing together each upstroke, shafts moving against each other urgently now.
“Close.” Owen’s eyes squished shut as the sensations threatened to overwhelm him.
“Kiss me,” Quill commanded, lips already seeking Owen’s. It was the kiss that did it, the way Quill seemed to put his whole self into it, holding nothing back, giving Owen his tenderness and sweet demands and all his strength too, every part of him that Owen had missed so desperately. Tension coiled in his muscles, body hurtling toward release.
“Yeah, that’s it. Come for me.” Quill moved with lightning-fast strokes now, quick licks of pleasure that had Owen trying to make it last even as his body strained, incapable of doing anything other than obeying Quill. And it seemed Quill had been waiting for him to go because he groaned mightily as Owen shot all over his fist, his come mingling with Owen’s. Owen was still shuddering when Quill released his cock, bringing his slick fingers to his lips.
“The you of three months ago never would have done that,” Owen couldn’t resist teasing, voice breathless. “I’ve corrupted you thoroughly.”
“I like it.” Quill’s smile managed to be both dirty and bashful.
“I know.”
“Like you too. Like being this way with you. Free and sexy and silly all at once. I never thought that was even possible.”
“Quill...” Words bubbled up in Owen’s throat, scary declarations and promises, but what came out was a rush of air. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted from Quill, but part of him held back, not wanting to say too much, ruin this lovely peace between them.
“Shh. Rest now, okay?” Quill kissed the top of his head, pulling the comforter up around them.
“Stay with me.” Owen yawned, sleepy despite everything churning in his head.
“Not going anywhere.” Quill’s voice was solemn and soothing, and Owen tried to trust him, trust that he meant that on a deeper level, trust that they could find a way forward, together.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I told you we don’t fit.” Quill grumbled, feeling more than a little ridiculous wedged into the oversized tub, but then Owen settled his back to Quill’s front, and the appeal of bathing together finally made a little sense. Warm, slippery Owen was always a good thing. After finding a dimmer switch for the bathroom, Owen had tossed one of the little bottles of body wash into the water, which made lots of rosemary-scented bubbles. The whole thing felt decadent, like an over-the-top birthday cake he didn’t really deserve but sure as hell was going to enjoy.
“I think we fit just fine. Which is what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Owen’s plastic-covered cast rested on the tub edge and one of his feet dangled near the faucet. His voice was more contemplative than accusatory. He’d been in a mellow mood since the sex and nap and some food. “You’ve met my parents now. They’re so perfect for each other that it’s not funny. My whole life, I wanted that. The one person who made me that happy. And I wanted it to be that easy.”
“Easy?” Quill peered down at him. He’d spent enough time with the two of them to reach his own conclusions. “It’s not easy for them.”
“How do you figure?”
“I mean, maybe they’ve led a more charmed life than some, sure. But it’s like this complicated dance they engage in. Your mom will get all agitated, and then right when she’s about to go off, he calms her down. Or he’ll get...moody. But she’ll joke at the right moment, and he snaps out of it. And they compromise all the time. Your mom wanted to leave to come the moment I called to tell them you were in the hospital, but he calmed her down, got her to do things in a more organized way. He’s a tea drinker like you, but he’ll have coffee because she does.”
“Huh.” Owen blinked. “You got all that in two days with them?”
“Hey, I know I’m not the most social like you or your mom, but I’m observant. And I can see how to a kid, they probably seemed like some sitcom ideal couple. But if you think they’re not working to avoid arguing, I think you’re not seeing the whole picture. Trust me, I’ve been around enough people who fly off the handle at each other. They’ve got plenty they could fight about. But they don’t. And that’s work. I think the trick is that they seem to enjoy the work, which I haven’t seen very much.”
“Yeah. They do.” Owen sounded thoughtful, and he was quiet for a long moment before speaking again. “Maybe that’s it then. I wanted someone who made the work seem that easy. Someone who made it worth it. And you do. I gotta admit, in past relationships I was always a little selfish, I guess you could say. Thinking about myself. But doing stuff for you, taking care of you, just feels natural, fulfills me in a way that work and success never did. And it fucking hurt, you pushing me away, telling me that you knew better than me what I needed for my future. Especially when I was so sure that I’d found what I’d been looking years for.”
“I’m sorry.” Quill held him a little tighter. Maybe it was the warm water. Maybe it was the fact that they weren’t facing each other. But there was something about being here like this that made it easier to have a soul-baring conversation. “I really am. I never wanted to hurt you. But that’s not an excuse. I did hurt you. Mainly because I just never saw myself that way, as having something someone else might want to have. I think I’d told myself so long that I was shit at relationships and that I didn’t need anyone that I started to believe it. I didn’t think there was any way that I could be good for you, not like that. Not like you’re saying. And I’m still struggling with that. It feels like you could do a lot better than me.”
“Quill.” Owen squeezed his knee. “You’re seriously o
ne of the best people I know. I don’t want to do better. Don’t want anyone else.”
“I’m working on believing that. It’s hard though. I think deep inside, I was worried about coming to depend on you, needing you so badly, and then having you leave to pursue your next big thing. I’m not saying it was right because it wasn’t, but that’s a big part of why I pushed you away. I thought I was saving myself some pain. You too. But all it did was hurt both of us. And I’m sorry.”
“I get it. I do. I’m scared too. But I’m willing to face those fears if it means a future together. But not if you’re going to push me away again. I want to stay, Quill. And I need you to believe me on that.”
Quill wasn’t ever going to get a better opening than this for his entire purpose in orchestrating that evening. A tremor ran through his body. “I do. And I’m not sending you away.”
“You’re not?” Owen sounded more than a little surprised at his ready agreement. “You want me to apply for a summer position?”
“Well, yeah. If that’s truly what you want. But I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I’ve got an idea for how you can stay.” Quill took a giant breath, trying to steady his racing pulse. “We could get married.”
“We could what?” Owen startled, sloshing water over the side of the tub, and Quill stayed him with a hand on his stomach.
“Just hear me out, okay?”
“Okay.” Owen sounded far more skeptical than excited, but it was a start.
“First, it makes a certain amount of sense. If we’re married, you can stay with me. It doesn’t matter what your job is or if they grant you a summer position. Housing extends to married couples. You could draw your cartoons, go back to finance long-distance, go to school. Whatever you want. And you could still stay. And if you do want a job, a certain priority is put on placing married couples together. So that’s the practical part of it.”
“Please tell me there’s an impractical part of it.” Owen didn’t sound convinced at all.
“Well, yeah.” This was the harder thing. He was good with logic and action, not so much pretty words. He’d already talked more that evening than most weeks regularly. But apparently logic wasn’t going to sway Owen. It was time to take the sort of risk he’d spent his whole life avoiding. “There’s the I-love-you part. That’s the main thing. Maybe I should have said that first.”
“Yeah.” Owen voice was thready, but Quill pushed on.
“I love you, and we could spend years working up to this, circling back around until the practicalities won out, but the truth of it is that I love you. This week has shown me that the future isn’t a given. Not everyone gets decades or years. But whatever we get, whatever time I’ve got, I want it with you.”
“So this is a near-death thing? An oh-my-God-we’re-mortal realization. Quill, I’m not sure I want to be a knee-jerk reaction—”
“It’s not that sort of reaction,” Quill protested, stroking Owen’s slick arms. “I mean, I can’t deny that what happened is a factor. Given me a good kick. But I’ve taken long enough getting over my stupid self. I don’t want to wait on this and lose my—our—chance. Because you’re right. We fit. We’ve found something special, and I want to keep it. Keep you.”
“But—”
“It’s not coming from a place of fear. I’ve lived so much of my life in fear. I know the difference between reaction and...celebration. This is more about that—being willing to celebrate, acknowledge what we’ve found, what we’ve built. Because we did build it. Night by night, meal by meal until we were in love. And maybe it wasn’t love at first sight like your parents and maybe it was work to get there, but I want to be that person for you, the one you were looking for. Because that’s what you are to me—the missing piece of my life.”
Quill’s skin felt scrubbed raw and tight, more naked than he’d ever been, and not simply literally. But Owen stayed silent save for the sound of his breathing, more exaggerated than usual.
“Say something. Please.” Quill was going to need out of this tub in another twenty seconds.
“I’m...reeling, I guess. Man, when you uncork, you uncork.” Owen inhaled sharply again. “I love you too, and maybe I should have been brave enough to say that when I gave you the ultimatum. Maybe that would have made a difference. And you’re not wrong about life being short and uncertain...”
“But? If I love you and you love me, is it really that crazy of an idea?” Quill’s heart beat harder, thrilling at Owen’s words even as his muscles stayed bunched up, whole body on edge, the possibility of rejection still looming large.
“For a guy who didn’t even want his best friend to know about us a week ago, yeah, it kind of is. There’s no walking married back. That’s about as openly gay as it gets.”
“I know. And I know it’s strange, but I like that part. Over, done, settled, mine forever. Fuck other people. No more hiding out, trying to find the courage. It’s like...” He tried to think of the right words, the words that might show Owen how right this was. “It’s like swinging out on a rope swing, only we let go together. No back-and-forth for years, no indecision and delay and argument.”
“So you’d marry me now to avoid future arguments? I mean, I know conflict isn’t your thing, but that’s a little extreme.”
“Did you miss the part where I said I love you?” Some frustration was seeping into his voice. He had expected some pushback, but maybe not quite this much. “I love you. Screw the practical parts. I love you. I want this, and I’m not afraid to want it anymore, and that’s a big deal to me. But what I am afraid of is losing you, of not getting the chance to know what forever feels like.”
“Forever feels like you trusting I won’t bolt when things get hard, ring or no ring.”
“I’m working on that. I am.”
“And forever feels like you doing this for you, for us, not just because you think it’s what you have to do to make me happy or to keep me.”
“I am. This isn’t simply about winning you back. It’s about securing a future for us. For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have talked to your parents if I wasn’t serious about wanting this.”
“You talked to my parents?” Owen’s voice was an adorable squeak. “I’m not sure whether to be horrified or impressed.”
“Could we go with impressed?” Quill desperately needed some lightness injected into this conversation, and Owen rewarded him with a shaky laugh.
“You’re this confounding mix of traditional and romantic, sweet and reserved. I can’t believe you talked to them before me.”
“Well, I wasn’t asking permission or anything like that. But they’re super important to you, and you’re super important to me, and I wanted them to know that, wanted them to know my intentions. Figured it might make it easier for them to head back, knowing you’d be taken care of.”
“You don’t have to marry me to take care of me.” Owen shook his head, damp hair brushing Quill’s neck. “I had this plan of my own, you know? The wear-Quill-down plan. Just stick around long enough, and maybe I’d get an invitation to hang out with you and Hattie and Val or something. Stay enough seasons and maybe you wouldn’t wince if I used the boyfriend label on the phone.”
“You deserve a lot more than that,” Quill said sternly. “And when it comes down to it, so do I. We both do. I see that now. I don’t want to live in the shadows, don’t want to settle anymore for a life without love. You’ve made me believe that I deserve that in my life.”
“You do. You deserve forever and you deserve to be happy—”
Because he could almost sense a but coming, he cut Owen off. “It’s okay if you can’t answer me right away. I kind of sprung this on you. It’s enough if you’ll think about it. This isn’t an ultimatum. I meant it when I said I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Owen was silent again, body vibrating against Quill before he moved to flip around in the rapidly cooling
water. This time, Quill let him, more than half expecting him to exit the tub. But instead, more water sloshed as Owen straddled his thighs.
“Maybe I don’t need to think about it.”
“Oh.” Trying to read Owen’s expression, Quill scarcely dared to hope after all Owen’s skepticism and the wringer his emotions had been through. All Quill knew was that he wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Owen had to laugh at Quill’s stricken expression, the way he’d braced himself against the tub like he was expecting a firing squad to appear.
“Maybe I’m just as crazy as you.”
“Yeah?” Quill’s voice was cautious, traces of his usual reserved self showing through. Strangely, that comforted Owen. Grounded him. Maybe Quill had stunned him with this proposal, but he was still the same Quill deep down. The same guy Owen loved.
“Because I’m tempted to say yes. And not for the practicalities either. But because you’re right. We deserve to be happy, and there’s no real point in delaying that happiness until a date on the calendar that other people might find acceptable given how long we’ve known each other.”
“If there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s fuck other people and their expectations.” Quill looked up at him, longing clear in his blue eyes. “Say yes.”
“I still don’t even know your middle name.” Owen pretended to pout, enjoying drawing this out more than he should.
“Huckleberry.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. And let me tell you what a field day the kids at school had with that one. Told you my mom’s a bit nuts. And probably my family is a detractor. Can’t offer you awesome in-laws like your folks—”
“It’s okay. You’re more than just your family.”
“That a yes?” Quill’s hopeful expression made warmth unfurl in Owen’s gut, spreading like maple syrup, sticky sweetness that made it almost impossible to hold out any longer.
Arctic Heat (Frozen Hearts) Page 27