Quentin & Tyler Jordan: Favorite
Characters: Quentin and Tyler Jordan
Prompt: Favorite
Rating: PG-13
Words: 575
Timeline: August 2014
"Did you take my towel?" Quentin asked peevishly. Tyler Jordan looked up, starting to smile, and paused with the expression halfway in place. Quentin was dripping wet, which was expected, and spotted all over with dark purple bruises like a Dalmatian, which... wasn't unexpected, except in magnitude.
"Did I do that to you?" Tyler Jordan asked, sounding strangled. Quentin's brows arched and he touched one of the marks on his leg and smirked.
"I sure haven't been letting anyone else use me as a chew toy. What's wrong?"
"I just didn't realize how dark they'd bruise."
"I did keep telling you to bite harder."
"Yeah, I remember... Don't they hurt?"
"Uh... You do realize that the point is that they hurt, right?" Quentin tapped one foot. "What did you do with my towel?"
"It's on your bed." Tyler Jordan watched Quentin walk away, bruises bitten just as darkly on his skinny butt, and shook his head slightly. They were still working out how deep Quentin's masochistic tendencies ran. Last night he'd begged Tyler Jordan to sink his teeth into him, insisting that he do it harder until Tyler Jordan backed off for fear of breaking skin. Not that he thought Quentin would mind that, but Tyler Jordan really didn't want to make him bleed. Quentin came back out, still damp but not dripping any more, with the towel wrapped around his hips, and stood in front of Tyler Jordan.
"Does it bother you?"
"I don't know... Kind of? You look like you've been attacked."
"I wasn't attacked, though. I asked you for every single bruise I have now." Quentin's lips quirked up. "If it changes your feelings about it, I never bruised this dark from any fight I got into."
"Oh god," Tyler Jordan said, and he leaned forward to drop his forehead against Quentin's hip. "You wanted me to do it."
"Yeah. I did. And I'm glad you did. And I'm gonna ask you to do it again sometimes. Here, give me your hand..." Quentin guided Tyler Jordan's fingers up his thigh, straight across the darkest bruise. The contusion was as obvious by touch as it was by sight. "That one's my favorite," Quentin said, almost purring.
"Jesus..." Tyler Jordan pressed against it gently and Quentin sighed happily. "I don't want to do this to you all the time."
"No, I know. I'm not going to ask you to do it again for a while. But this is definitely one of my new favorite things. I mean you bite me anyways... this is just that turned up to eleven." Quentin ran his fingers through Tyler Jordan's hair until dark eyes met his, and then he smiled. "Thank you," he added softly, and Tyler Jordan sighed and kissed his hip just above the towel.
"Can I be nice to you for a while now?"
"I think you were being very nice to me last night," Quentin said, and laughed when Tyler Jordan poked him. "Yeah. You can treat me however you want to treat me. What do you think I deserve?"
"I think you deserve to be loved," Tyler Jordan said, pulling Quentin into his lap, and the way Quentin sighed and melted against him was just what he’d hoped for. He was better at being sweet anyhow, much preferred it, and he set about revisiting all the places his mouth had gone last night, only with kisses instead of bites.
Prompt: Favorite
Rating: PG-13
Words: 575
Timeline: August 2014
"Did you take my towel?" Quentin asked peevishly. Tyler Jordan looked up, starting to smile, and paused with the expression halfway in place. Quentin was dripping wet, which was expected, and spotted all over with dark purple bruises like a Dalmatian, which... wasn't unexpected, except in magnitude.
"Did I do that to you?" Tyler Jordan asked, sounding strangled. Quentin's brows arched and he touched one of the marks on his leg and smirked.
"I sure haven't been letting anyone else use me as a chew toy. What's wrong?"
"I just didn't realize how dark they'd bruise."
"I did keep telling you to bite harder."
"Yeah, I remember... Don't they hurt?"
"Uh... You do realize that the point is that they hurt, right?" Quentin tapped one foot. "What did you do with my towel?"
"It's on your bed." Tyler Jordan watched Quentin walk away, bruises bitten just as darkly on his skinny butt, and shook his head slightly. They were still working out how deep Quentin's masochistic tendencies ran. Last night he'd begged Tyler Jordan to sink his teeth into him, insisting that he do it harder until Tyler Jordan backed off for fear of breaking skin. Not that he thought Quentin would mind that, but Tyler Jordan really didn't want to make him bleed. Quentin came back out, still damp but not dripping any more, with the towel wrapped around his hips, and stood in front of Tyler Jordan.
"Does it bother you?"
"I don't know... Kind of? You look like you've been attacked."
"I wasn't attacked, though. I asked you for every single bruise I have now." Quentin's lips quirked up. "If it changes your feelings about it, I never bruised this dark from any fight I got into."
"Oh god," Tyler Jordan said, and he leaned forward to drop his forehead against Quentin's hip. "You wanted me to do it."
"Yeah. I did. And I'm glad you did. And I'm gonna ask you to do it again sometimes. Here, give me your hand..." Quentin guided Tyler Jordan's fingers up his thigh, straight across the darkest bruise. The contusion was as obvious by touch as it was by sight. "That one's my favorite," Quentin said, almost purring.
"Jesus..." Tyler Jordan pressed against it gently and Quentin sighed happily. "I don't want to do this to you all the time."
"No, I know. I'm not going to ask you to do it again for a while. But this is definitely one of my new favorite things. I mean you bite me anyways... this is just that turned up to eleven." Quentin ran his fingers through Tyler Jordan's hair until dark eyes met his, and then he smiled. "Thank you," he added softly, and Tyler Jordan sighed and kissed his hip just above the towel.
"Can I be nice to you for a while now?"
"I think you were being very nice to me last night," Quentin said, and laughed when Tyler Jordan poked him. "Yeah. You can treat me however you want to treat me. What do you think I deserve?"
"I think you deserve to be loved," Tyler Jordan said, pulling Quentin into his lap, and the way Quentin sighed and melted against him was just what he’d hoped for. He was better at being sweet anyhow, much preferred it, and he set about revisiting all the places his mouth had gone last night, only with kisses instead of bites.