[ there has been so much going on that it's been hard to keep tabs on everyone. but when he looks up and sees tim - he feels a pull of guilt and worry. he should have checked on him sooner, but he's been so busy in the aftermath of the stupid game trying to hold so many people together, losing koby, and -
here is tim, missing part of him (hawk) and looking strung out in a way he hasn't seen him before. so he rises from where he's sat on his bed and moves to him immediately, says nothing before he wraps his arms around him and pulls him into his chest. ]
Still needs some time.
[ quentin doesn't know how much time. doesn't know when he'll see him again, if he'll see him again. he still believes some of what happened is his fault, anyway. ]
You're freezing. [ he holds him a little tighter, scrubbing his broad palms up and down his back. ]
[ Tim isn’t pulled into his arms so much as he falls into them, hardly standing upright as it is. Quentin’s seen him in rough states before – in the clinic the morning after they met, in the throes of wretched, tear-soaked heartache, bruised and jumping at shadows after the attempt on his life – but this awful numbness is something new. It’s more than just the cold from confining himself to the graveyard, but his very heart that’s missing, buried under the dirt outside. With nothing to pump his blood or fill his veins with life, it’s hard to feel much of anything at all, except for the yearning for that missing piece.
He stands limply against Quentin, nodding his understanding and closing his eyes, letting the survival instinct towards something warm do the work of raising his arms to embrace him back, loosely. The chilly tip of his nose nudges against his shoulder. ]
I’m okay.
[ Automatic, and completely untrue. Maybe it could be, if Quentin keeps rubbing like that, putting some small measure of heat back into him. ]
He’ll be alright, though? I can’t lose both of them.
[ tim leans against him and quentin's hands smooth over his back, one rising slowly to his nape and into his hair, scratching along his scalp until he follows the line of his spine all over again. he's bitten with the cold and quentin knows he needs more than an embrace to will some warmth back into his bones. he tips his head, kissing tim's temple. ]
Lets get you out of those clothes - into something warmer for a little while.
[ there's nothing suggestive or sexual, just the guiding hands of someone who cares deeply about the man before him. he pulls him gently, keeping him glued to his front as he walks them back, letting their feet slot and fumble like they're doing some sad little dance.
he only pulls away to grab a clean shirt, a thick, woolen sweater, and some sweat pants. ]
Off with it - we'll get you back into them before you leave, but right now you need to get warmed up. No sense in freezing to death waiting for them both if you're too ill to meet them when they return, sweets.
[ With wet eyes, he nods into the crook of Quentin’s shoulder, thankful that at least one of them can think straight to see to their mutual care. Their slow, sad shuffle eventually deposits Tim onto the edge of the bed, where he sits down, or rather sinks, the weight on his shoulders heavier than it’s ever been. It’s a Herculean effort to pull his sweater off, and the layers underneath meant to keep him warm. They can only do so much when he’s spent the day laying next to a grave.
Underneath it, he’s pale and clammy, dark body hair standing out starkly against his skin. He hugs himself, somehow even colder now for being exposed, despite being inside, until Quentin puts a change of clothes in his hand and he mutters out a soft thanks. ]
Might just take them, if you’re not careful.
[ The attempt at levity is half-hearted at best, but these sweats are pretty cozy. He feels better in here than he did outside, for the company more than the warmth. ]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-11-10 05:23 am (UTC)here is tim, missing part of him (hawk) and looking strung out in a way he hasn't seen him before. so he rises from where he's sat on his bed and moves to him immediately, says nothing before he wraps his arms around him and pulls him into his chest. ]
Still needs some time.
[ quentin doesn't know how much time. doesn't know when he'll see him again, if he'll see him again. he still believes some of what happened is his fault, anyway. ]
You're freezing. [ he holds him a little tighter, scrubbing his broad palms up and down his back. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-11-16 01:48 am (UTC)He stands limply against Quentin, nodding his understanding and closing his eyes, letting the survival instinct towards something warm do the work of raising his arms to embrace him back, loosely. The chilly tip of his nose nudges against his shoulder. ]
I’m okay.
[ Automatic, and completely untrue. Maybe it could be, if Quentin keeps rubbing like that, putting some small measure of heat back into him. ]
He’ll be alright, though? I can’t lose both of them.
no subject
Date: 2024-11-17 03:11 am (UTC)[ tim leans against him and quentin's hands smooth over his back, one rising slowly to his nape and into his hair, scratching along his scalp until he follows the line of his spine all over again. he's bitten with the cold and quentin knows he needs more than an embrace to will some warmth back into his bones. he tips his head, kissing tim's temple. ]
Lets get you out of those clothes - into something warmer for a little while.
[ there's nothing suggestive or sexual, just the guiding hands of someone who cares deeply about the man before him. he pulls him gently, keeping him glued to his front as he walks them back, letting their feet slot and fumble like they're doing some sad little dance.
he only pulls away to grab a clean shirt, a thick, woolen sweater, and some sweat pants. ]
Off with it - we'll get you back into them before you leave, but right now you need to get warmed up. No sense in freezing to death waiting for them both if you're too ill to meet them when they return, sweets.
no subject
Date: 2024-11-26 06:01 am (UTC)Underneath it, he’s pale and clammy, dark body hair standing out starkly against his skin. He hugs himself, somehow even colder now for being exposed, despite being inside, until Quentin puts a change of clothes in his hand and he mutters out a soft thanks. ]
Might just take them, if you’re not careful.
[ The attempt at levity is half-hearted at best, but these sweats are pretty cozy. He feels better in here than he did outside, for the company more than the warmth. ]