[ The groping, the greed of it isn't strange for Danny. The ache in his scalp and even the taffy stretch of his throat so thin and fast he can't swallow--those are part of the territory. When Danny scoops under his cheek, Quentin jumps from ticklishness, but he's well on his way to hard when they clatter together--even farther on his way when he feels Danny along his hip. It's not the pain that sets him on edge.
[ Something about his voice, though. Quentin's throat jerks, hard swallow to keep down a sudden, sick feeling. He has to open his eyes, has to get a good look to remember who he's here with--his friend, his beautiful friend, even if the dirt under his knees and the fierce strain on his neck tells him something awful is here with them. ]
...I'm never-- [ What a strange ask. He isn't running. His Adam's apple snaps once more, hands drop between them to ruck up Danny's shirt. The nerves will disappear if he dives in. Whispered, unsure: ] I'm never getting away from you.
no subject
[ Something about his voice, though. Quentin's throat jerks, hard swallow to keep down a sudden, sick feeling. He has to open his eyes, has to get a good look to remember who he's here with--his friend, his beautiful friend, even if the dirt under his knees and the fierce strain on his neck tells him something awful is here with them. ]
...I'm never-- [ What a strange ask. He isn't running. His Adam's apple snaps once more, hands drop between them to ruck up Danny's shirt. The nerves will disappear if he dives in. Whispered, unsure: ] I'm never getting away from you.