by Riley Hart
“I did. I’m kind of a big deal.”
A loud laugh jumped out of Miles’s mouth. It sounded good on him.
“Big deal my ass.”
“You mean my ass? My ass is a big deal? I know.” Quinn clicked a few buttons and backtracked. “Oh fuck. You made me mess up.”
“I made you mess up? What did I do?”
Quinn got shot, but yeah, of course he managed to survive it for his next life. He held the controller out for Miles. “Do you want to try?”
His eyes darted to the controller then at Quinn’s face. He could see the…hell, what almost looked like confusion there. Like he hadn’t expected Quinn to ask or he didn’t want to let himself say yes, or as though he didn’t understand the question. But then he reached out. His finger brushed Quinn’s hand as he took the remote from him…and started to play.
He died right away of course. He cursed and then said, “Fuck that. I’m going again.”
Quinn laughed. “Obviously, you can’t let a video game get the best of you.”
“It didn’t get the best of me. I just need to figure out what in the fuck I’m doing.”
Quinn explained the controls to him, and Miles played again…and again. He watched as Quinn took a turn. Took another one himself.
When it was Quinn’s play again, Miles grabbed his arm as Quinn tried to make his way through an abandoned building. “No! What are you doing? Don’t go that way. What the fuck? I saw something behind you. Why aren’t you listening to me?”
“Oh, so you even know better on a game I made? Let the professional handle this.”
“Professional my ass. You’re going to get us killed again and then I’m going to have to spank your ass.”
Quinn risked a glance at him. “Oh, so I should die on purpose, then?”
Miles ignored him. He flopped back on the couch. “Oh my fucking God. I can’t believe you’re not listening to me. Give me the controller before I take it from you. Let me handle this.”
Okay…so apparently Miles liked control in all aspects of his life, and not just the bedroom. And he apparently now liked video games more than sex, too. Quinn didn’t mind the first part so much, but they were going to have to figure something out about the video-game-over-sex thing.
When Quinn died again, he passed the controller to Miles without a word. He turned and watched as Miles lost himself in the game and Quinn got to study him.
The way his shirt stretched across his arms and chest. The outline of his hard, dark nipples against the white fabric. His hands were strong and veiny. His eyes a whiskey brown. His tongue snuck out every once in a while and traced his lips. He had a strong jawline, dark lashes. Jesus, he was hot as hell.
Why were they playing video games again?
As though he felt Quinn’s eyes on him, Miles glanced at him. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Because there was nothing really to say. This was a new side of Miles, and he enjoyed it.
“I can’t believe you did this.” Miles didn’t look at him, just kept playing, his eyes locked on the screen.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know…it’s cool, though. That you had a hand in this from beginning to end. I don’t think I really got it when you told me what you do.”
“Most people don’t. It would be even different if you saw the creation stage. I guess it’s just like any job. If you don’t do it, you don’t get it. I mean, you’re a fucking lawyer. That’s a whole lot more incredible than making a video game.”
Miles didn’t look at him. Quinn thought maybe it was easier on him if he didn’t. “Just incredible in different ways,” he replied. Then he died, dropped the controller on his lap, and rested his head against the couch. “I’m done…what time is it?”
“After two.”
His eyes went wide and yeah, Quinn was surprised as well. They’d been at it for over three hours.
They were both silent for a moment. Quinn leaned against the back of the couch like Miles was. Both of them had their feet on the coffee table as they stared at the TV screen.
“Can I ask you something?” Miles said, his voice quiet, almost a low growl that said he didn’t want to ask whatever his question was.
“You can ask me anything.” Because mostly, Quinn was an open book. At least when he trusted someone, and for whatever reason, he trusted Miles.
“Did you ever know your parents? What happened to them?”
His brows pulled together because he hadn’t expected Miles to ask him that. Hadn’t expected it to still be on his mind. “No one knows who my father was. My mom never said. She didn’t have any family, at least not that we know of. She was young…poor. She passed away when I was five. A few of her friends wanted to take me but they couldn’t. Most of them were just like her—young, no education, and hardly enough money to make ends meet, so I got put into the system. Some of them tried to keep in touch with me, but you know how that shit goes. Eventually, we lost contact.”
“You were young.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Quinn saw movement. He turned to see that Miles had rolled his head so he was looking Quinn’s way. “I was.”
“You weren’t adopted, though?”
He gave a soft chuckle even though there was nothing funny about the situation. “I wasn’t really the kind of kid most people were looking for… I was angry at the world for a long time. I got into trouble and I wouldn’t speak to anyone and…well, I wasn’t very nice to them either. I hated all the mothers I met because they were alive, and mine wasn’t. I hated siblings in the houses I would go to because they had parents, and I didn’t. I hated them because they wouldn’t let me be with my mother’s friends. I ran away, said hurtful things. I wasn’t the absolute joy to be around that I am now.”
Quinn hoped Miles would laugh, but he didn’t. He just looked…sad. Confused. Quinn wasn’t sure where the confusion came from.
“I can’t imagine you being angry or hurtful to anyone. You’re not anymore.”
No…no he wasn’t. He’d gotten tired of pushing people away. “It wasn’t a fun way to live.” And he’d seen what anger could do to a person. Seen how the way you treated others could come back at you. “Why are you so interested in my past, Counselor? You fall in love with me? We talked about this in the beginning.”
Quinn finally got a small chuckle out of Miles, but it didn’t last long. Miles took a deep breath…then another one. He wrung his fingers together before stopping suddenly, as though he saw that as a sign of weakness. He sat up a little straighter and said, “I was left in an alley at a couple days old. Someone took out their trash and they heard me crying. They realized someone had thrown me away.”
Oh fuck… Quinn’s heart sped up. A thick, heavy rolling sensation worked its way through his gut.
“I had drugs in my system, was malnourished. I almost died, obviously, I didn’t. I’m here and everything is fine.” He shifted his position nervously. “Fuck, I’ve never told anyone that story before. I think it’s time I go.”
Miles stood, and when Quinn did as well, his legs nearly gave out. It was like his bones had gone soft and could hardly hold him up. “Don’t go,” he said, but Miles already had his back to him and was heading for the door.
“I need to.”
This was their connection, Quinn realized. It was the piece that tied them together. The draw he’d felt to Miles and one he believed Miles had felt to him. Though there were different circumstances, they’d both grown up without their biological parents. They’d both been in the system somehow, both been at someone else’s mercy.
“Miles,” Quinn said and the other man stopped at the door.
When Quinn reached him, he put his hands at Miles’s hips. Leaned his forehead against Miles’s back. Slowly, Quinn’s hands slid forward until they wrapped around Miles’s waist.
They were that way one beat, then two and three, and before he knew it, Miles turned on him. Took control as he grabbed Quinn, pushed him against t
he wall, heavy pressure from his fingertips digging into Quinn’s skin. And then Miles’s mouth collided with his.
It was a kiss filled with hunger, with anger, and maybe some pain too. It was Miles putting things back on his terms. Taking control and Quinn gladly giving it up to him.
Their teeth clanked against each other’s. Miles’s cock pressed against Quinn’s. He bit at Quinn’s lip and sucked his tongue, and in this moment, Quinn would gladly let Miles overpower him in any way he wanted.
But just as quickly as it started, Miles jerked away. Quinn expected him to immediately walk out. To cut contact because this was becoming something totally different from what it was supposed to be. But then…it had been that way their first weekend, hadn’t it? If not, they would have fucked and Miles would have been gone an hour later.
Miles’s breath was hot against Quinn’s face, and he knew the other man was trying to hold himself back.
When he stepped away slowly, he said, “Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t know.” And then, he walked out of the apartment, and Quinn tried to figure out what in the hell was going on.
CHAPTER NINE
The Weekend
“That was fun. You’re good with your dick.” Quinn fell back on his bed, panting. They were both covered in sweat. Miles’s chest rose and fell with the same short, sharp intakes and releases as Quinn’s did.
“Only good?” he found himself asking. “I need to step up my game.”
Quinn rolled over and looked at him. “Oh, did I use the wrong words? Does someone need their ego stroked? Okay, how about fantastic? Magnificent? Awe-inspiring. The best lay I’ve ever had?”
Miles rolled his eyes and playfully pushed a pillow into Quinn’s face. The movement took him by surprise. It was…comfortable. And not comfortable in his sexual prowess kind of way, but…familiar, he guessed. As though he and Quinn knew one another better than they did or had a real relationship outside of a random hookup. It was really fucking weird.
Still, he kept it going. “You’re getting closer. Still not good enough, though.”
“My opinion matters that much to you, huh?” Quinn winked at him, and Miles didn’t like the direction this was going.
“Nah. I know I’m good.”
“What? I thought you were fantastic? Magnificent? Awe-inspiring?”
Damn it. The bastard always seemed to one-up him. Just as Miles was about to reply, Quinn’s stomach growled loudly enough for Miles to hear it.
“Are you a little hungry there?” Miles asked.
“Are you going to feed me?”
“My cock,” he teased.
“Real food, then dick. Let’s go. If you’re not going to feed me, I’ll have to feed us both.”
He rolled out of the bed without waiting for Miles. Quinn walked naked to the door, and Miles thought this would be a good time for him to bow out. To end this…whatever the fuck it was and go home. They’d both come more than once, so really, there was no point in staying.
Quinn made it all the way to the door before he stopped, turned, and looked at Miles. His dick was soft, between his legs. His stomach flat and sexy, and that damn grin on his face that he always had. Was the guy ever not smiling?
When his lips stretched even farther, Miles saw his sexy little dimples that he wanted to lick.
“Are you coming or what?” Quinn asked.
No. It was time to go home. “Hopefully soon. Eat first, fuck later, remember?” he said and then pushed out of Quinn’s bed. Wrong answer. He’d just given the wrong answer, but he didn’t care.
Still naked, they walked into Quinn’s kitchen. He didn’t have much to eat, so they threw a frozen pizza into the oven.
“What do you do?” Quinn asked as their food baked.
“Lawyer,” Miles admitted. It wasn’t typically a topic of conversation when he hooked up but none of this was standard.
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Oh no?” he asked.
“I bet you’re good at it too. I think you’re likely good at everything you do. Or magnificent, I should say. You’re a perfectionist because it’s easier to be perfect than to fuck with emotional stuff.”
Quinn was absolutely right about that. Miles also didn’t want to get into that. “And you’re good at psychoanalyzing me. Since I’m not paying you for it, don’t bother.” He walked over to Quinn, backed him up against the fridge.
Their bodies touched, and Miles instantly started to get hard again.
“Kiss me,” he told Quinn.
Just like that, Quinn leaned in. He traced Miles’s lips with his tongue, pushed his way inside and Miles let him. He thrust his cock against Quinn’s, held his hips tightly, and slowly made out with him.
When he let his mouth trail down Quinn’s throat, he mumbled, “You’re magnificent at kissing too.”
Miles smiled against Quinn’s neck.
When the timer went off, signaling the pizza was ready, Miles pulled away. Kissing had been the perfect distraction. “I’ll get it.”
“I’ll let you. Just don’t burn your dick off, okay? I’m not done with it yet.”
Miles laughed again. Goddamn him.
*
Sweat dripped down Miles’s head as he ran on his treadmill. When it stung his eyes, he wiped them with a towel that hung on the machine but didn’t slow his pace.
He had a whole lot of shit to figure out.
One of the things he prided himself on was the fact that he was no-nonsense. He didn’t bullshit, and he was honest, which didn’t count for a whole lot if he wasn’t honest with himself.
There was a part of him that liked Quinn.
Or thought he could like Quinn.
Or felt some kind of connection to him that he didn’t have with Chance, Matt, and Ollie. Not just sexually, either.
It was one of the three of those things. Maybe a combination. Or all of them. He hadn’t quite figured it all out yet, but he wasn’t going to lie to himself about it.
Admitting it didn’t mean he liked this new bit of truth because he wasn’t really fond of putting himself out there, but it was a truth all the same.
Sweat stung his eyes again, and after wiping his face, Miles slowed the pace of the treadmill.
Last night, he’d told Quinn about being left. About being abandoned.
It wasn’t as though no one knew. Chance, Matt, and Ollie obviously did, because their families were close and they’d grown up together. One look at his parents showed he hadn’t been born to them, but the story wasn’t something he or his parents offered to many. Miles had never wanted sympathy for his beginning and his parents had never wanted praise for taking a baby who had been thrown away. It was his story to tell, he just never thought it was anyone’s business…yet he’d told Quinn.
The bastard.
If he hadn’t just admitted he’d liked the guy, he’d hate him.
Why had it been Quinn he picked up in the bar that night? Why had he not only been an incredible fuck, but also charming and funny and completely annoying, which Miles also strangely found endearing?
Oh God… Miles was obsessed with him. He’d become Ollie with Matt, only Miles obviously wasn’t in love since he hardly knew the guy.
He didn’t like feeling uncertain and Quinn made him feel that way.
Again—the bastard.
If Ollie could see him now, he’d have a field day with this shit.
Miles stopped the treadmill and got off. He really needed to do something to get his mind off of Quinn, but he sure as shit couldn’t call Oliver. He had this fear that Ollie would somehow see right through him.
Matt…they were close friends, but they’d never been the type who hung out without Ollie and Chance, so that wouldn’t make sense. Chance was actually the perfect one of his friends to choose anyway, but he knew Chance had a dancing gig today.
There was no one else he trusted besides the three of them…well,
except suddenly the very man who had him all tied up.
He picked up his phone and stabbed at the screen as though his cell was what had him so pissed off.
“Miss me already?” Quinn said instead of hello, and even though Miles wanted to scowl, he couldn’t.
“Come over.”
“No,” Quinn answered.
Oh…well he hadn’t expected that. “Why not?”
“Hmm,” Quinn said. “Maybe because you didn’t ask nicely.”
Oh for fuck’s sake. “Will you please come over, Quinn? How was that?” He really, really was going to kill the man.
“Better…but I still can’t come.”
“What? Why?”
“Because this is moving too fast for me…”
Miles’s pulse unexpectedly sped up. Moving too fast for him? What did he think Miles wanted from him?
“You want me to see your apartment? Isn’t that against some super secret, hookup code you have? And what about me? What if I have a super secret, hookup code you don’t know about? Huh? What about that?”
“I…” And then, damn it, he started to laugh. Why did Quinn make him laugh so damn much? “Get your ass over here. We need to talk.”
Quinn gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, but only because you’re pretty and bossy and I have a thing for pretty and bossy. What’s your address?”
Miles gave it to him and they ended the call.
He only wore a pair of shorts and nothing else. He thought about taking a shower but knew it wouldn’t take Quinn very long to get here, so instead he went into the kitchen and poured himself some bourbon, because who didn’t want alcohol at one in the afternoon?
Glass in hand, Miles walked over to the nearly floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city.
He took a sip of his drink, watched the cars below—the sky that went on forever and the bright Southern California sun—and realized he was tired. Tired of feeling so trapped inside of himself. Of the fear he never really understood but had always felt.
When he looked at Quinn, he didn’t see the same hesitation he had and Miles realized for the first time, that he wished he were more like that. More carefree and easy-going and not so damn bottled up.
