one. their first kiss is on a night where the movie choice was quentin’s and, of course, he’d chosen some slasher flick that keeps the both of them on their toes. the lights are dimmed, jeremy’s head on his chest, a blanket draped over two sleepy boys that have no insistence on being anywhere but here. and when a particularly suspenseful part comes upon them, quentin’s got his hands over the others ears to keep him protected from the louder, scarier sounds. and when things start to grow particularly violent and jeremy’s began to quiver and bury his face wherever a free spot on quentin was, that’s when it happens. he’s got the smaller boy’s cheeks in either of his hands, bringing trembling lips onto steady ones that keep the ship steady at sea. he turns the movie off shortly after and takes jeremy home.
two. he’s tired of waking up alone. sure, it’s always been his lifestyle to never let anyone sleepover no matter the circumstances — but since the feeling of loneliness subsided inside him, he’s been fond of letting jeremy curl up to his side every night around eleven o’clock on the dot with the news on low volume in the background. he kisses jeremy goodnight every night now. it’s been a year.
three. it’s quite possibly the most intimate moment of his life. he’s shared a shower or two with multiple different men before, but those were all for cash to stash in his bank account. it’s different when actual feelings are involved, when life comes to halt as soon as jeremy’s naked and stepping behind the curtain to join him. such a magnificently beautiful body, one that quentin has to recede himself from kissing every inch of. but he does kiss the boys lips, tenderly and passionately, as hands inch around his waist to lift him up with thighs wrapped around his hips. sex in a shower is really hard.
four. nobody knows who quentin is without jeremy. no one knows who jeremy is without quentin. twenty years old with his life figured out, the love of his life sprawled out along the bed as he rests peacefully. yet, he can’t help but think jeremy deserves better, someone that will get down on one knee and show this boy that eventually ; he will be loved for all eternity. the longest quentin has ever loved something is the time they’ve been together. he loves the smile jeremy does whenever he sees a puppy or the pout he gets when he eats his ice cream too fast. there’s not a freckle on his skin that quentin hasn’t kissed and there isn’t an inch of this apartment they haven’t been naked on top of. he knows it’s terrible to think of, his jeremy with some other guy, but maybe it’s for the best. soon to be twenty-one years old and it seems all so overwhelming that jeremy will forever be encapsulated as this beautiful child that had so much to give the world. he kisses jeremy’s shoulder blades and makes himself a cup of tea. love is hard.
five. he lets jeremy be on top tonight, lets him show daddy just how good he can be. and it’s hot, it’s stunning, to watch him move so effortlessly with one goal in mind ; to impress. the difference in their skin tone — pale meeting tan — is effortlessly beautiful. the way jeremy’s cheeks turn pink and the way his hair sticks to his forehead and the way his noises aren’t held back put quentin into sheer ecstasy. but sex without a kiss is like toast without butter ; dry. so he’s up on his elbows, beckoning jeremy down for a kiss and it seems like it’s more 80/20 with how needed it was ( more on jeremy’s side than his own ). they cum together and he swears he sees stars. jeremy falls asleep on his chest, quentin kisses his forehead, and this is when he swears he’s in paradise.
