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It’s been a long day, and Quincy is grateful his cabin isn’t far once he’s through with his tasks. He’s sorely tempted to visit the mansion, but his muscles protest at the thought of trekking that far. So he gives in to the fatigue and steps inside, already stripping off his sweat- and mud-stained clothes.
He washes as quickly as he can, cleaning himself enough not to dirty his bedclothes. With a heavy, exhausted sigh, he drops onto the mattress, eager to sleep off the day’s work. The little guy curls up by his head, and Quincy gives his tail a cursory stroke before letting his arm flop at his side.
Despite a full day’s labor, sleep won’t come. Quincy tosses and turns a few times before muttering a frustrated “troublesome” and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He leaves his face covered, curling his fingers into his messy hair. Topper chitters in annoyance, leaping off the bed and letting his tail smack Quincy’s forearm on his way. It would be funny if it weren’t so aggravating to be unable to sleep.
He rarely has difficulty settling down with the little devil in his embrace, despite the fact that he’s often restless and far too noisy. Quincy uncovers his eyes but leaves them closed, a vision of Eiden forming in his mind. Bright, curious eyes. Teasing grin. Hopeful expression and an eager blush tinting his cheeks. Perhaps Quincy should’ve mustered the energy to head to Aster’s after all.
His essence stirs, a prickle of arousal traveling up the insides of his thighs. He can’t help it; the thought of Eiden’s warm skin on his turns him on more than anyone or anything else has in years. For so long, he buried that kind of affection beneath people and pastimes that did nothing to fill the emptiness and only left him lonelier than before. Then along came this sassy, troublesome little devil who somehow managed to wriggle his way into Quincy’s old heart.
He runs a hand through his hair, tugging a little and thinking of the way Eiden clings to him when his emotions get the better of him. With his other hand, he reaches down between his legs to where his cock is beginning to rise. He plays with it a bit, unhurried, his mind wandering to thoughts of Eiden being almost mesmerized by his sheer size.
Reactions to his dick have been variously impressed, intrigued, and wary, but none have been as pleasing as the little devil’s. He’ll say every time that he can’t take it while eagerly gobbling him up with mouth or ass. The utter look of bliss on his handsome face takes Quincy’s breath away and makes want collect shamelessly in his gut.
Even now, just the thought of it causes his rapidly stiffening cock to throb. He stokes slowly to take the edge off his need, sighing with satisfaction and glad that he sleeps naked in all but the coldest weather. He’s invested in this fantasy now, and there’s no sense in pretending otherwise. If he can’t have Eiden in his arms, then he’ll make do with the next best thing.
In this imaginary scenario, just as in his current reality, he can’t sleep. Curled up against his side, Eiden stirs and sees his predicament, that naughty smile spreading across his sensual lips. Can’t sleep, huh? I have an idea that might help. Quincy groans and runs a hand down his chest, picturing Eiden’s wandering hand squeezing his large pecs before leaning in to run his tongue over the skin there.
He’d tease Quincy then, gazing up at him from under half-closed eyes and planting soft kisses all the way down his torso and stopping just above where Quincy wants it most. Running his slim fingers through the coarse hair there. He never complains that Quincy won’t shave it off, instead moaning with delight in exactly the same way present-Quincy does at the thought of being touched like that.
Quincy toys with the tip of his penis, fantasizing about puffs of Eiden’s hot breath against it. He’d whine a bit about how unfair it is that Quincy can hold on so long, unaware that it takes everything in him not to fuck his sweet mouth hard and fast. Instead, Quincy would tease him back, chuckling at his lack of stamina and relishing his little pout.
Then at last he’d take Quincy’s cock into his throat as far as he could, making the most of his skilled tongue and the roof of his mouth. Quincy groans roughly through gritted teeth, closing his hand a bit tighter and moving it with steady rhythm, precum making the slide easier. He can almost hear the wet sounds of Eiden’s lips, saliva leaking from the corners and tears making his eyes shine in the darkened room.
He’d moan around the fullness and then pull off to ask if it’s good. And gods, Quincy wants to tell him it is, but he can’t formulate the words. So he feigns more control than he feels and instead runs his thick fingers through Eiden’s silky hair. He tugs on it somewhat less gently than he means to, but the sting only seems to make the little devil more excited.
A sharp blast of pleasure catches Quincy off-guard. He strokes a bit faster, imagining himself hauling Eiden up to straddle him. He’d pull him into an intense kiss, the kind that leaves them both breathless. He hasn’t enjoyed kissing anyone like that in decades. The tang of himself on Eiden’s tongue mixes with the little devil’s own taste, the scent of their combined essence filling his nostrils. In the present, he can’t contain a deep, throaty moan at the sensory memory.
Soon enough, Eiden would sink down onto his cock with a desperate, quavering cry. Now panting, Quincy parts his thighs wider and wraps a second hand around himself, thrusting up into both fists. His head falls back against the pillow, chin up and mouth open as he imagines fucking up into Eiden’s tight hole.
In his mind he hears the way Eiden’s softer moans become thirstier, rising in pitch and volume and the occasional needy squeal escaping his parted lips. The sound spurs Quincy on, bucking upward with abandon now and making continuous, hungry grunts as his climax nears.
“Eiden…Eiden…” he murmurs, dizzy with desire.
He loves to make the little devil finish first. It isn’t necessary, really, but it fuels Quincy’s fire to watch him lose control and splatter them both with cum, the sight and scent pushing him right to the edge. If he’s even luckier, he can give Eiden successive orgasms before he fills him with his own thick fluids.
This is what he pictures now, his little devil letting out a wild gasp and squeak as he spurts, barely having enough time to catch his breath before he reaches another peak. His mind filled with the sensory feast, Quincy fucks his fists faster, pressing his shoulders into the bed and groaning loudly as he cums. Hot spunk oozes through his fingers, seeping into his palms and easing his motion as he slowly emerges into the present.
He grabs a cloth from his bedside table and wipes himself down, his heart still hammering as he tosses the soiled rag onto the floor. Heavy sleepiness descends on him, and he yawns. Perhaps all he required was a damn good orgasm. Would’ve been more enjoyable with the little devil himself, but this wasn’t bad. Next time, he’ll be sure he has the real thing.
Turning over on his side, he drags the covers up over himself. He’s just drifting off when he feels a soft pressure by his head. Ah, the little guy is back. Sleepily, he reaches up to brush a finger over Topper’s tail, earning a soft chitter in response. And then they’re both fast asleep, taking comfort in each other in the absence of their precious someone.