Page 69 of Garbage

An actual black garbage bag.

Evan wondered how bad his sentence would be if he were to murderize someone right now. No, it was too soon to joke about that, even in his own head.

Quincy kind of leaned forward, but didn’t get any farther. He looked past Evan toward the apartment behind him.

Why were they standing so awkwardly in the hallway, when every cell in his body wanted to hold Quincy close and never let him go?

Evan had kind of thought that they’d see each other, and Quincy would sweep him off his feet into an epic kiss. Did Quincy want to change their relationship? Had things changed so much that he wasn’t even sure if he was welcome?

“Come in,” Evan said.

“Thank you.” Quincy entered slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. The bouncy, overeager puppy that he’d always been was gone.

Inside the door, Quincy slowly turned and slipped off his shoes.

“You got the socks,” Evan said.

Obviously he had. He was wearing the sharp black suit Evan had left for him, the collared shirt below purchased from the women’s section in the softest, creamiest material he could find.

Quincy wiggled his toes, making the manes of the rainbow unicorn designs sparkle.

“Thank you. I love them.” Quincy moved his gaze from his feet to Evan’s face. “I have feet, now.”

He wasn’t sharing information, but wonder. There was so much hidden pride in his voice that Evan couldn’t hold back any longer.

He opened his arms.

Suddenly Quincy was everywhere, enveloping him with strong hands and slender hoses. Evan’s face was pressed so tightly into those solid pecs, that he could barely breathe. But it didn’t matter when Quincy felt like safety and love and home.

“I was so scared,” Evan said into that little hollow of Quincy’s hold.

“I was scared, too.” Quincy rumbled. “I thought I’d never see you again. And watching the Bad Guys kick you was the worst moment of my life.”

“I’m only a little banged up.” Evan stroked down Quincy’s back, memorizing his shape under the stiff jacket. He traced along the specially-tailored gap that parted to allow Quincy’s limbs their freedom. “You saved me.”

Quincy’s hoses coiled tighter around his legs. “I killed three people, Evan.” He sounded shattered. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even know I did it.”

“Shhhh…” Evan’s hands drifted up to Quincy’s neck, exploring his new, longer hair. “You were acting in self-defense. The court recognized that. If anything, you’re a hero.”

Quincy shook his head. “I’m dangerous. I have to wear a tracking and recording device for the next five years. I’m not allowed to leave the city without permission.”

A little part of Evan grew hot with anger. He didn’t know much about how probation worked, but he was certain it wasn’t supposed to apply to people who were proven innocent. This was pure prejudice.

“You’re not dangerous, baby. You’re the most innocent, caring person I know.”

“Are you sure? If you… if you don’t want me here…”

“I do,” Evan assured him. “This is your home.” His only fear was that Quincy would someday leave him. But Quincy had enough of his own insecurities now. He didn’t need Evan adding to them. “Let’s go sit on the couch,” Evan suggested.

Quincy only withdrew enough to let Evan walk, his limbs seemingly glued to Evan’s body. They slid to the couch and Evan pulled the blanket over them.

That was so much better. Their little bubble of safety.

Evan didn’t say anything as Quincy’s hoses wrapped around his legs again, holding him deliciously in place and making his cock pulse. Even the pincer claws rested lightly on Evan’s head. The tender, almost-there touch of that metal made him want to close his eyes and drift into the tantalizing sensation.

This wasn’t the time for those thoughts. Quincy had just been assaulted, and spent a harrowing time in jail. What he needed right now was comfort, not sex.

Still, Evan couldn’t quite keep his hands to himself. He stroked one hand down Quincy’s chest. “I’m glad the suit fits.” It was an inane comment, but so many other topics felt too big and scary.