☠ QuixoticJerk ☠

Hot. 

Heavy. 

Sweaty. 

Kisses were tainted with caramel and coffee; somewhere beneath the sweetness there was a lingering smokey scent. 

Tongues ran slickly, softly across swollen lips, and soft sighs escaped between the clash of teeth. 

Hands found the crevice between collar bone and sweet spots, tightening enough to remind the other who was in control. 

Hot. 

Heavy. 

“Jealous?”

Q swiped Joe’s palm from his shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot,” he brooded, peering across the bar from beneath a heavy brow. He ignored Joe’s presence and continued to watch the bulky bartender pour slick shorts for a row of gaggling hens. 

“The tall one’s taken a fancy to our boy,” said Joe, sipping a diet coke to hide the smirk that lingered. 

Q narrowed his eyes. “She’s the one getting married, dope,” he snapped, waving a hand at the hen party who had stolen Sal’s attention 10 minutes ago. Q hadn’t cared - someone had to pay the bills - but he had lost patience somewhere after the second apple sour and the third wink. To be frank, he had enough. 

“Get him mamma,” drawled Joe, twirling a coloured straw with anticipation as Q pushed himself from the stool and strode along the bar to the group of woman and his entertaining husband. 

Q slipped between the women and leaned against the bar. Sal’s sludgy green eyes met his own with a look of tired relief. 

“What can I get you?”  asked Sal, mimicking Q’s position to close a considerable amount of space between them. 

“Does it ever stop hurting?” he asked by way of adressing the palm of support across his shoulder. 

Murr gave him a gentle squeeze and Sal was sure it was to soften the blow his words would have.