Quin’s gaze tracked Cesare as he made his way through the crowd before he glanced back at the man in front of him. The stranger was pouting and pleading, reaching for Quin’s waist, trying to convince him to dance with him. He remained stoic, unwilling to show his displeasure and reluctant to move. Quin had always frozen when he was unsure of how to handle a situation. He had done it as a child and as a teenager, so it made sense that he continued to act that way into adulthood. He wasn’t like Max. Max acted without hesitation, most of the time anyway.
The loud slap of the towel against skin pulled Quin’s attention. He tilted his head to the side to see Cesare smirking behind the man. Upon seeing him standing there, Quin’s body visibly relaxed, and he leaned his back against the bar, elbows pressed on the wood, holding himself up. He would never admit it to Cesare, but playing the role of hero suited him nicely. It didn’t hurt that he was always looking out for Quin, still even to this day.
“Forget it,” The man hissed, shooting a glare at Cesare and then turning around to face Quin. “You’re not worth the trouble,” He scoffed. The insult landed home, hitting Quin’s most vulnerable insecurity. At first, he recoiled, wincing at the words, but Quin managed to recover relatively quickly from it. He forced out a laugh, waving the man off. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before, and it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, but knowing that Cesare heard it as well was a sore spot he didn’t want to deal with.
And then it was just the two of them, Cesare standing in front of him, and Quin unable to look anywhere but at him. He wanted to be upset about Cesare swooping in to rescue him. The insults were on the tip of his tongue. Quin could have told Cesare he wanted the man, had been interested in him, and he could have reminded Cesare that he didn’t appreciate the white knight in shining armor routine. But he didn’t. Be it that it was a rescue he was grateful for, or maybe it was the alcohol in his system softening his edges. Quin wasn’t sure. He didn’t even really care at that point.
“Smooth,” He said, pushing himself off from the bar and stepping closer to Cesare. He reached for the towel, eyes narrowing when he recognized it to be the one that had hung from the bartender’s shoulders. His jealousy flared, big and ugly, within his chest. Instead of going for the towel, he redirected his path, his fingertips tugging at the pocket of Cesare’s jeans, revealing the baggie he had shown both him and Max earlier. “What are the chances of you sharing these with me instead of the bartender?”
The tension in his body was something to be marveled at. Had it been any other night, that comment may have gotten a right hook. But there were too many people and truth be told, acting like that in front of Quin wasn't exactly on his bingo card for the night. Not that there had been a card but if there were, he'd think of several other better things to takes it's place. But when he heard Quin all of that shuffled away. The real thing had always been better than anything he could have dreamed up.
Cesare didn't move but let Quin come to him, more curious if he'd actually touch him. If only his heart would stop the skipping it was starting to do. What he hadn't expected was for him to want the pot he'd brought. Max rarely ever smoked with him. Well, not as often as he used to. Neither of them did much of what they used to. What he still didn't know was what Quin now did, or really what he'd done before. But as he stood before him and contemplated, there wasn't much of an answer to give. His friend would understand.
"I didn't know you'd be up for it." His gaze drifted for just a moment towards the bar. Seeing Carter completely in the weeds as he would always call it, he felt even less bad. Cesare moved to tuck the baggie back into his pocket and patted it for good measure. "But I'm always up for an adventure." His gaze found Quin again and a small smile spread on his lips. "Want to now?" He was exactly itching to get them both high but the thought of alone time with him was too good to pass up. He wondered briefly what Max would think. If he'd be mad or upset he wasn't being invited or that it was his brother taking his place this time. He'll forgive him too. There was a lot of that tonight but Cesare was rarely ever selfish, for Quin he could and would be.


















