[ 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
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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. ]