by K. Sterling
“I’m sorry I didn’t…”
“I said we’re not talking about it,” Roman ground out then flailed his hand impatiently. “Please hurry,” he added then pulled his phone from his pocket. “I'm letting Mr. Bishop know we’re ready to leave.” His skin was shiny but it was more clammy than sweaty. His face was pale and Quinn saw his fingers tremble as he typed. It was happening again.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn repeated as he tucked in the halves of his shirt. He stuffed his socks and bow tie into his pockets then pulled on his coat. “I’m ready,” he said and Roman jerked his head to his left.
“We’ll go out through the garden,” he stated then took an unsteady step toward the door.
“Are you ok?” Quinn asked as he grabbed him and Roman nodded and grumbled dismissively as he pulled his arm free.
“I’m fine. Just got a little dizzy,” he said then hurried to a set of glass doors at the end of the conservatory. He pushed them open then took a deep breath. The air was cool and crisp and he sighed in relief as he hurried out onto a side terrace and down a set of stone steps. They jogged around the side of the house and Roman pointed at the cars parked along the street. “That’s us,” he said as Quinn held the gate open for him. Mr. Bishop got out of the driver’s seat and searched the front of the house until he spotted them then went to open the back door as Roman shuffled across the sidewalk. Quinn looked at him as they passed under a street light and he was white as a sheet and his eyes were unfocused.
“I’ve got you,” Mr. Bishop said as he ran to Roman and put an arm around him.
“I’m fine,” Roman insisted but he sagged against him as they rushed to the car. Mr. Bishop helped him into his seat as Quinn ran around to the other side.
“What’s wrong?” Quinn demanded as he slid onto the seat next to him and the car pulled away as soon as the driver’s door slammed shut.
“Everything’s fine,” Roman said as he fell back against the cushions. “Drop Mr. Waverly off at his place,” he ordered and Quinn gasped.
“No! I’m not leaving you like this!”
“This is none of your business,” Roman said bluntly and Quinn’s jaw fell as he blinked at him.
“I’m sorry I got carried away. I should have listened to you,” he said softly and Roman snorted as he shook his head. “I don’t understand why you’re so angry. We missed a chance to search the house but it’s not like you came away empty handed. You’ve been trying to fuck me since the night we first met,” Quinn said and Roman looked genuinely ill. He wasn’t sure if it was something he said or whatever it was that was making Roman shake and sweat.
“Yes. I could have ffucked you just like that the first night but you decided you were diffferent. You didn’t want to be another whore I’d forget because you want ssex to mean something every time,” he reminded Quinn. It was more of a weary ramble and Quinn panicked as he recognized his street.
“Roman, please,” he said but he shook his head.
“I guesss it doesn’t have to mean anything if it’s with me or if it’s for Jayce,” Roman said and Quinn felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “I thought I had to proove I was good enough but you’re no better thannn Jayce or the others, are you?” He asked and Quinn swallowed hard as the car came to a halt. “I thought I had to wait for the perrrfect night and the perfect moment but alll I had to do was find something you reallywanted.” The door opened and Quinn reached for Roman’s hand but he pulled it away.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it meant anything to you,” he said and Roman raised his hand weakly as he looked away.
“Goodnight, Quinnnn. I’ll ssseeyoutomorrow,” he slurred and Quinn looked back as Mr. Bishop’s hand closed over his shoulder.
“It’s time for you to get out, sir,” he said and Quinn slid Roman a pleading look but he was watching the other window.
“Something’s wrong with him!” Quinn pleaded with Mr. Bishop as he stepped out.
“I’ll take care of him. Goodnight, sir,” he said as he shut the door then marched around the car quickly. He offered him a stiff nod before he folded himself into the driver’s seat and Quinn stared in utter confusion and a lot of panic as the car pulled away from the curb and turned the corner.
“No,” Quinn said as he followed. “Not this time,” he decided as he ran to the corner and waved at the first cab he spotted.
Chapter 15
“Come on, Grigore!” Quinn yelled as he pounded on the door. “I’m not leaving until I’ve seen him and I know he’s ok,” he threatened at the top of his lungs then stepped back as the door opened just slightly.
“I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Carlisle has just returned but he isn’t receiving guests,” Grigore informed him quietly and Quinn swore under his breath as he rose on his toes and craned his neck to see around him. “Sir!” He scolded as he tried to block his view. Mr. Bishop lumbered into the back hall with something draped over his shoulder and Quinn gasped when he realized it was Roman.
“Oh, my God!” Quinn cried as he carefully shoved past Grigore and dashed into the foyer. “Roman!” He exclaimed as Mr. Bishop rushed up the stairs.
“Mr. Carlisle doesn’t want you to be here,” Mr. Bishop said. Roman was limp and his eyes swam as his head bounced with each step.
“I’m not going anywhere unless I’m going after a doctor,” Quinn vowed.
“We’ll take care of him,” Mr. Bishop said but there was a slight tremor in his voice and Quinn’s heart raced as Roman was carried into his bedroom and carefully laid on the bed. He was out cold and drained of all color as sweat clung to the curls around his face. “I stopped to help him but some fool almost ran me over and I spilled everything on the street,” he admitted shakily. It was the most Quinn had ever heard him say at once and he looked like he was devastated as he backed away from the bed.
“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” Grigore said as he darted around the room, avoiding the light as he found clothes and bed linens. Roman choked and gagged before he convulsed and twisted on the bed. His eyes rolled hard as his head thrashed and he spluttered.
“Roll him onto his side!” Mr. Bishop ordered as he dashed from the room. Quinn ran to the bed and pushed Roman onto his side and pulled his jaw open as a rush of clear fluid and bubbles spilled onto the duvet.
“Champagne,” Quinn noted and shook his head. He never saw Roman eat.
“I need to give him an IV,” Mr. Bishop said as he returned with his arms full of medical supplies and dropped them on the bed. Grigore followed with a bag of fluids and an IV pole. “As soon as he’s still enough,” Mr. Bishop added as he hurried around the room moving furniture. Quinn nodded as he threw his coat at a chair then sorted through the supplies and arranged them on a clean towel. Roman relaxed and went limp and Mr. Bishop sprang into action. He swiftly eased Roman out of his coat but lost several of the buttons on his shirt as he ripped it open and freed his right arm. “Hold him for me,” he said and Quinn crawled onto the bed and reached across Roman’s body. Quinn grabbed the tourniquet and lashed it around Roman’s upper arm then kept it stretched and still. He’d trained to be a paramedic and was impressed at how quickly and easily Mr. Bishop placed the IV and gently taped it to Roman’s arm. He turned as Grigore handed him a tray with a glass vial and a syringe. He carefully filled the syringe then tapped out the bubbles before pushing it into the port in the IV.
“What is that? Is it heroin?” Quinn asked accusatively and Grigore looked appalled as he glared at him.
“Glucose,” Mr. Bishop said and Quinn’s brows jumped as he looked at Roman then at the tray. A glucose meter, another syringe and a vial were prepared and waiting and Quinn felt like a complete jackass.
“I guess you wouldn’t put heroin in an IV,” he muttered then offered Grigore a sheepish smile. It made a hell of a lot more sense once he stopped assuming Roman’s symptoms were withdrawal. “Why would he be so secretive about having diabetes?” He said and Mr. Bishop snorted.<
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“He doesn’t want to be nagged. Mr. Toni could make him eat and test his blood but he doesn’t care anymore,” he grumbled as he hung the bag then checked to make sure it was dripping at the right pace then stepped aside as Grigore appeared with fresh bedding and pajamas.
“I’ll take him from here,” he stated. “You can change the bedding,” he added and Quinn backed off the bed and got out of the way. He watched as Mr. Bishop worked around Grigore. It only took them a few minutes and Roman was barely disturbed as he was changed from his wrinkled tux into a pair of pajama pants and tucked into fresh bedding. This wasn’t the first time they performed the routine.
“Can I stay with him?” Quinn asked quietly as Grigore rested the arm with the IV on a clean white towel then backed away.
“You can stay,” Mr. Bishop said. Quinn carefully settled next to Roman as Mr. Bishop moved around the room, picking up clothes and silently straightening the furniture.
“Who’s Toni and what happened to him?” Quinn asked quietly. Roman groaned weakly and became restless but he relaxed as Quinn brushed his fingers through his hair.
“He was Mr. Carlisle’s best friend. They met as boys, when Mr. Carlisle was in school. Everyone loved Mr. Toni and Mr. Carlisle would listen to him, he didn’t get into trouble or get sick when he was around. He was a very good man and a gifted artist. He forged paintings and one of his customers killed him and dumped into the Thames.”
“Oh, my God,” Quinn whispered and his heart hurt as he tightened his hand around Roman’s. It must have been hell for Roman, every time they talked about pulling boys out of the river.
“Mr. Carlisle was there when they found him. Everyone was looking for Mr. Toni and we knew whenever a body was discovered. They told him not to go but he made me take him.” His voice broke and tears spilled from Mr. Bishop’s eyes as he twisted Roman’s coat in his hands and stared at him. “I have never seen Mr. Carlisle angry or sad or ever raise his voice but he screamed and cried and begged for Mr. Toni as they pulled him out of the water and took him away. It was the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my life. He was so broken after that but he kept going because he had to find Mr. Toni’s killer.”
“Did he find him?” Quinn asked and Mr. Bishop’s head bowed slightly.
“He was already dead but Mr. Carlisle was satisfied in the end. After that, Mr. Carlisle didn’t care about anything. He pushed himself and ignored his diabetes until he felt sick then come home. He couldn’t work. He said he didn’t need to and he didn’t care but it was because he was too sick. He was only going out at night, a few times a week. He gave up and I think he was waiting for the diabetes to kill him. He didn’t want Mr. Darius to see him because he would know,” he said then looked at Quinn. He wasn’t sure if he imagined it but he thought he saw the faintest hint of warmth in Mr. Bishop’s eyes and a slight curve to his lips. “Then he met you and we started looking for your brother. I could get him to eat a little now and then and he was letting me test his blood more. He smiles more and laughs again,” he said and the faint sinking feeling that rarely left Quinn when he was with Roman was gone. He was so sure he was going to fall and be broken but he felt like he was getting bigger and floating as he held Roman. “He’s better when he’s with you,” Mr. Bishop added and Quinn’s chest shook as he pulled in a breath and his heart swelled.
“I guess I can’t leave him, then,” he said as he pressed his lips to Roman’s hair.
“That would be good, sir,” Mr. Bishop replied quietly as he left them and shut the door behind him. Quinn was tired and relief sank into his bones making him drowsy as he let Roman fill his senses and he decided he didn’t have to live just for Jayce anymore. He could live for Roman and more importantly, he could save him.
“That would be good,” Quinn yawned and a smile spread across his lips as he let go.
Chapter 16
“Keep doing that, Quinn…” Roman murmured as he rode Quinn’s tongue while swallowing his cock and fucking him as hard as he possibly could. He was riding him bareback and somehow also had his face in Quinn’s ass. It was the happiest dream a man had ever dreamed but he could feel the pillow under his cheek as he fought to stay in his happiest place. Heaven was brutally snatched from his grasp as the bed curtains were thrown wide and the sun obliterated Roman’s ecstatic joy. “Mr. Bishop!” He roared as he sat up and shielded his eyes.
“I think he’sh downshtairsh,” Quinn said as he crawled onto the bed with a syringe between his teeth. “Hold shtill,” he said as he pushed Roman back on the bed. Roman jumped as a wipe rubbed across his thigh and air hit the alcohol.
“What are you…” Roman asked as he tried to block Quinn but he grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the bed as he pushed the syringe into his leg and pressed the plunger. Roman held still and waited as Quinn removed it and tossed it on the bedside table.
“There,” he said as he threw his leg over Roman’s waist. “Your glucose level is good and you’ve got a little more time before you need to eat breakfast.” He fell forward and braced his hand next to Roman’s shoulder. Roman wasn’t sure what was going on but his hands glided over Quinn’s back and ass as he looked around for Mr. Bishop or some clue as to what was happening.
“I am awake?” He asked as his erection pushed against the layers of sheets and white cotton between him and Quinn as he smiled down at him. He was in Roman’s bed in just his boxers and he was staring at him as if he wanted to have sex. It felt very much like the dream. The beginning of the dream, at least…
“You’re awake,” Quinn said as his hand pushed into Roman’s hair and he lowered and kissed him. Roman moaned in delight but he was still unsure as to what was happening. Quinn shifted and he felt him working off his boxers and heavy heat spilled into Roman’s groin. It was almost painful as Quinn’s lips became more demanding and he kicked the bedding away. Roman rolled them and moaned deliriously as their naked bodies tangled. This was almost better than the dream. He wasn’t buried in all of Quinn’s holes simultaneously while enjoying his multiple tongues but this was real and they were naked. And in a bed.
“Are you sure I’m awake?” He said as he raised his head and looked around.
“You’re awake,” Quinn promised as his hands closed around Roman’s face and he kissed him. Urgently. Roman was absurdly giddy at the feel of Quinn’s bare toes against the tops of his feet and the warm rub of leg hair against leg hair.
“I don’t mean to complain but I may have missed a few developments,” he mumbled against Quinn’s lips as he rolled his hips and he bit back a curse as their cocks were crushed between them and their bodies pressed together. It rarely happened with any of the men he slept with, having that much space, time and privacy. It certainly never happened in Roman’s bed. It was decadent, having so much room and access to all of Quinn. “Are you awake?” He asked as he searched Quinn’s eyes for any sign of intoxication or brain trauma. Quinn laughed as he rolled Roman onto his back.
“I’m awake,” he said as he rested his forehead on Roman’s and rocked slightly, experimenting as he rubbed his sack against his cock. His lips curved wickedly. “I’m really awake,” he observed as his erection pulsed and Roman groaned as he felt it against his stomach. Being naked with Quinn was sensory bliss.
“Has there been a development or is this some sort of fever?” He asked as his arms wound around Quinn, locking them together as he undulated beneath him and enjoyed the weight and press of his body on top of his.
“I am feeling really hot,” Quinn said and Roman hummed in agreement as his hands gripped and glided down his back. “But there was a development,” he added and Roman paused. Quinn was willing and relaxed and he was teasing. Whatever it was, it felt very vital to Roman’s existence. “Remember what you said about the thing Darlington is hiding?” He asked and Roman flinched as his chest locked and a plume of rage and nausea swirled within him. His hands spread as he clung to Quinn, saturating his senses until it passed.
“Ok,” he panted as if he’d needed the kiss before he could continue and Roman’s eyes watered. “Are you all right?” Quinn asked as he became concerned.
“Yes!” Roman chuckled as he kissed him. No one had ever kissed him so honestly and happily. Not that Roman believed it was a chore to kiss him but he was used to kisses as ploys or favors. He used kisses to beguile and ensnare, he forgot a kiss could be full of joy and taste like laughter until Quinn. Roman was so bitter and felt betrayed after Darlington’s. He couldn’t remember very much after they left Quinn in front of his building but he didn’t care that he was fading and his body was failing. He wanted it all to go dark. He’d waited and fantasized about finally deserving Quinn and believed it would be spiritual and beautiful when they had sex. Instead, Quinn tossed it on the table like a plastic chip and Jayce was playing their hand. It wasn’t magical or romantic. It was just a move and Roman lost the hand. But this was more than Roman could have imagined and it felt more real than any other moment in his life. And this was just kissing Quinn. “What about hiding?” He said then breathed him in. Nothing could ever be more perfect.
“I thought you were like Jayce,” Quinn said and Roman’s perfect happy glow dimmed just a bit. Quinn must have noticed. “I knew you were hiding something and I assumed the worst. I thought you were an addict, like him. I thought it was heroin. Again,” he added pointedly and Roman squeezed his eyes shut and pulled in his lips as he made a mental note to hit himself in the face with something very heavy and very hard. You could definitely get Mr. Bishop to punch you. The absolute last person Quinn would trust and want to invite into his life, body, heart, soul…would be another drug addict. Not after everything Jayce put him through. It would certainly be a mood killer.