Categories > Celebrities > The Used
Bert was cold. Cold, soaked down to his numb bones in ice, but he couldn't stop. No, he had to make it down the street. His knees shook and his legs threatened to give out. But he couldn't stop. He passed a bench, some heavenly, ethereally beautiful bench. He wanted to rest so badly. So badly, he needed sleep. And food, and warmth and just something deeper than this. Because his life and the life of his lover, so intricately knotted together had taken some ridiculous turn and they both depended on this.
He thought back, to when he was desperate;
Quinn would not stop coughing, and tears streamed from his exhausted body. Bert had curled him in tighter to his own malnourished, bony body and bit back his own tears because they were a waste of energy, nobody would listen and God knows, Bert couldn't afford to lose any more energy.
Once he had been delirious with the fever and begged for Bert to get the fucking things off me, Bert, Bert, please, why won't you help me? although there was nothing on him.
Quinn begged and pleaded for Bert, his new and only saviour, in his hoarse, croaky, red-eyed way, to stop the coughing, please and the stomach pains because he couldn't take it anymore. So Bert had tucked him carefully into the icy doorway, wrapping him carefully in the rotted blanket and he left for this new hell, this journey the trek to the nearest supermarket in Orem and managed to steal two wrapped sandwiches from the fridge section. He returned to Quinn and saved his tears on the trudge back because once again, he could waste neither time nor energy. He returned to Quinn and forced him to eat both sandwiches, slowly, to help ease the hunger pains in his stomach.
No, baby, no, you need it more than me. Stop Quinn, you need the strength. No, baby, I'm not hungry. I ate.
The sixth day, Bert couldn't take it anymore; he was overflowing with desperation and need. He couldn't take the way Quinn looked at him, but only for a second before his narrow frame was wracked with choky, shuddering coughs and retches. He had taken him with him, on the endless marathon to the chemists; he had swaddled him gently in his own hoodie, and the blanket that he had taken from his parent's home when they disowned him for wanting Quinn. He had stumbled alone into the unusually empty chemist's and knelt in front of the startled pharmacist and begged him for some medicine, anything to stop Quinn's grey skin itching and red eyes roving and stop, just stop because it was the flu his best friend, his lover and his soul were dying from the fucking flu.
Please, I swear, I'll do anything, just I need something to stop him coughing, I can't...I need..Please. Please.
He had cried to this old man, the jolly one who looked like Santa Claus and told him he would do anything if he could get his only family to stop losing weight so fucking fast and screaming for Bert to get the monsters that weren't there off him and to just, please stop that god-awful coughing.
Bert get them off me, get them OFF ME BERT THEY'RE EATING ME AND YOU DON'T CARE!
And the short, kindly-looking man had patted Bert on the head soothingly and told him to get the hell out of his shop before he called the police.
He had left. He had no choice, if he was arrested, who was going to look after Quinn? He had nobody either since he dropped out of college his parents didn't speak to him. He would just find a way.
Present Day
Bert shut the door loudly and crossed the white carpet expanse to the wide staircase. He dumped his Christmas gifts on the hall table beside their bedroom, calling a sarcastic "Honey, I'm home."
"In here." A cheerful voice called from the bedroom. "...Why?" Bert called back, laughing as he threw his jacket on the small loveseat in the hall and entered the bedroom.
"Hi there." Quinn smirked. "And what is this?" Bert questioned grinning at the sight before him. Quinn was laid out casually on their wide, deep double bed in all his glory but for a pair of boxers. Bert smirked at him. Striding toward the bed, he kicked off his shoes and socks and felt the deep fur pile of the clean white carpet sink under his weight. Arriving at the bed he stripped slowly, relishing the look of pure desire on Quinn's face as he faced Bert, sitting up with his ankles crossed, and a huge smirk on his face. "This," Quinn smiled, gesturing to the wine beside the bed on the little antique table that they had bought after their first album. "Is me building up my confidence. This is me being naked. So you can presume that the wine helped."
"Do I sense low self esteem?" Bert shook his head slowly, and climbed into Quinn's lap, sliding his hands happily around his neck."What on earth do you have to be self-conscious about?" Bert asked, moving a hand down to trace Quinn's neck, chest and coming to a stop above his hips. His fingers played teasingly at Quinn's waistband. "And I think you'll find that you're not naked. Not yet." He teased, grinding his own boxer-clad crotch down hard on his lover in the right place. Quinn closed his teeth together, and rocked slightly in pleasure. "Anyway, you have absolutely nothing to be self conscious about." Bert breathed into Quinn's ear, pushing back some blonde hair to gain access to the shell of his ear. Moving slowly to comfort Quinn's nervousness, he pulled off his own boxers first before gently removing Quinn's. Bert slowly ran his tongue up the side of Quinn's neck, simultaneously lowering his hips so slowly that Quinn didn't notice. That is, until he dropped his body quick and hard, shooting stars of excitement and pleasure flashing across his vision, when he bounced on Quinn's lap. Teasingly, he pulled himself back up, ignoring the twitching of his cock when he removed the friction.
Bert moved his mouth slowly down Quinn's stomach, tracing hard kisses up to his crown tattoo and biting and sucking on the skin to leave his mark.
Threading his fingers through Bert's hair and massaging delicately as he pushed his head gently down to his own pressure. "Hey, I thought this was my Christmas present?" Bert objected, allowing his hand to slide down around his lover's member and play in light, loose, teasing circles, but refusing the light pushing on his head. "It is. But-fuck-don't act like you don't enjoy this." Quinn struggled to regulate his breathing, and he slid back so he was lying on his back with Bert moving on top of him, making noises he used to only dream of hearing. He felt the soft caresses of the silk sheets on their bed and he felt the hard, loving slides and pressure of Bert writhing on him. Quinn sighed through his mouth and needed to have Bert moving in him and making the same noises, but louder. He reached his hands up to come to a rest on Bert's sliding hips, and knotted his legs firmly around Bert's waist, allowing him access. Bert reached up and touched his fingers to Quinn's lips, "Suck." he requested. Quinn opened his mouth and sucked hard on Bert's fingers, swirling his tongue around them. Bert shivered, remembering exactly what that tongue could do, and moved slightly, to allow himself to slide his fingers inside Quinn. He started with two, and quickly joined them with a third. Moving them quickly, as Quinn pressed his hips down until Bert was practically fucking him with his fingers, after a minute or two, Bert pulled them out, not able to wait any more. Placing a gentle hand on Quinn's leg, Bert eased himself slowly inside. They had down this so many times, Quinn always needed less preparation than Bert. He knew Quinn liked the small pain. It was a little thing of his. Bert pushed hard, deep in Quinn until he could go no further, and the tightness and the soft movement of Quinn's body, pressed tight against his own. Pressing in and out, Bert ignored his own pleasure in favour of searching for the one spot inside that would make hi-Quinn's back suddenly arches fast and high. Ah. There it was. Bert drove himself deeper into his lover and gasping, he looked into at Quinn to see his eyes shut, he felt his hands scratching at his back as Quinn mewled and slammed his own hips up. Placing a warm hand on the back of Bert's head, Quinn drew him to his mouth and breathing hard and fast, filthy phrases sliding easily from his mouth, things that he knew Bert liked to hear. It was a little thing of his. White stars flitted in his vision and his hips moved in a natural, intense rhythm. Quinn wriggled under him and his vision narrowed to just Quinn and him. The rest of the world didn't exist then. "I...Quinn, I'm gonna come." He gasped. Quinn jammed his hips up, and begged, "Bert, touch me, I need to...Bert." Wanting to try something new, he pressed his lips to the shell of Quinn's ear and breathed out, "Come." without touching him. Quinn moaned, frantically jerking his hips and gripping Bert's shoulders. "Come. Quinn. Now, come for me." Bert instructed, and panting, Quinn spilled his heat on their stomachs, with his eyes rolling and his mouth crying Bert's name constantly in a delirious chant.
Exhaustion overcame them both and Bert had just enough energy to pull himself out and roll into a comfortable position, with Quinn wrapped carefully in his arms. Quinn had enough energy to pull Bert's underwear on him lovingly, because he knew Bert didn't like to wake up fully naked and curl happily into Bert's warm body. Touching his lips chastely against his lover's, Quinn sighed. "I love you." Bert smiled, and pressed his lips to Quinn's forehead. "I know honey, I love you, too. Sleep." Bert closed his own eyes and drifted off into dreams of memories and band performances and Quinn.
He thought back, to when he was desperate;
Quinn would not stop coughing, and tears streamed from his exhausted body. Bert had curled him in tighter to his own malnourished, bony body and bit back his own tears because they were a waste of energy, nobody would listen and God knows, Bert couldn't afford to lose any more energy.
Once he had been delirious with the fever and begged for Bert to get the fucking things off me, Bert, Bert, please, why won't you help me? although there was nothing on him.
Quinn begged and pleaded for Bert, his new and only saviour, in his hoarse, croaky, red-eyed way, to stop the coughing, please and the stomach pains because he couldn't take it anymore. So Bert had tucked him carefully into the icy doorway, wrapping him carefully in the rotted blanket and he left for this new hell, this journey the trek to the nearest supermarket in Orem and managed to steal two wrapped sandwiches from the fridge section. He returned to Quinn and saved his tears on the trudge back because once again, he could waste neither time nor energy. He returned to Quinn and forced him to eat both sandwiches, slowly, to help ease the hunger pains in his stomach.
No, baby, no, you need it more than me. Stop Quinn, you need the strength. No, baby, I'm not hungry. I ate.
The sixth day, Bert couldn't take it anymore; he was overflowing with desperation and need. He couldn't take the way Quinn looked at him, but only for a second before his narrow frame was wracked with choky, shuddering coughs and retches. He had taken him with him, on the endless marathon to the chemists; he had swaddled him gently in his own hoodie, and the blanket that he had taken from his parent's home when they disowned him for wanting Quinn. He had stumbled alone into the unusually empty chemist's and knelt in front of the startled pharmacist and begged him for some medicine, anything to stop Quinn's grey skin itching and red eyes roving and stop, just stop because it was the flu his best friend, his lover and his soul were dying from the fucking flu.
Please, I swear, I'll do anything, just I need something to stop him coughing, I can't...I need..Please. Please.
He had cried to this old man, the jolly one who looked like Santa Claus and told him he would do anything if he could get his only family to stop losing weight so fucking fast and screaming for Bert to get the monsters that weren't there off him and to just, please stop that god-awful coughing.
Bert get them off me, get them OFF ME BERT THEY'RE EATING ME AND YOU DON'T CARE!
And the short, kindly-looking man had patted Bert on the head soothingly and told him to get the hell out of his shop before he called the police.
He had left. He had no choice, if he was arrested, who was going to look after Quinn? He had nobody either since he dropped out of college his parents didn't speak to him. He would just find a way.
Present Day
Bert shut the door loudly and crossed the white carpet expanse to the wide staircase. He dumped his Christmas gifts on the hall table beside their bedroom, calling a sarcastic "Honey, I'm home."
"In here." A cheerful voice called from the bedroom. "...Why?" Bert called back, laughing as he threw his jacket on the small loveseat in the hall and entered the bedroom.
"Hi there." Quinn smirked. "And what is this?" Bert questioned grinning at the sight before him. Quinn was laid out casually on their wide, deep double bed in all his glory but for a pair of boxers. Bert smirked at him. Striding toward the bed, he kicked off his shoes and socks and felt the deep fur pile of the clean white carpet sink under his weight. Arriving at the bed he stripped slowly, relishing the look of pure desire on Quinn's face as he faced Bert, sitting up with his ankles crossed, and a huge smirk on his face. "This," Quinn smiled, gesturing to the wine beside the bed on the little antique table that they had bought after their first album. "Is me building up my confidence. This is me being naked. So you can presume that the wine helped."
"Do I sense low self esteem?" Bert shook his head slowly, and climbed into Quinn's lap, sliding his hands happily around his neck."What on earth do you have to be self-conscious about?" Bert asked, moving a hand down to trace Quinn's neck, chest and coming to a stop above his hips. His fingers played teasingly at Quinn's waistband. "And I think you'll find that you're not naked. Not yet." He teased, grinding his own boxer-clad crotch down hard on his lover in the right place. Quinn closed his teeth together, and rocked slightly in pleasure. "Anyway, you have absolutely nothing to be self conscious about." Bert breathed into Quinn's ear, pushing back some blonde hair to gain access to the shell of his ear. Moving slowly to comfort Quinn's nervousness, he pulled off his own boxers first before gently removing Quinn's. Bert slowly ran his tongue up the side of Quinn's neck, simultaneously lowering his hips so slowly that Quinn didn't notice. That is, until he dropped his body quick and hard, shooting stars of excitement and pleasure flashing across his vision, when he bounced on Quinn's lap. Teasingly, he pulled himself back up, ignoring the twitching of his cock when he removed the friction.
Bert moved his mouth slowly down Quinn's stomach, tracing hard kisses up to his crown tattoo and biting and sucking on the skin to leave his mark.
Threading his fingers through Bert's hair and massaging delicately as he pushed his head gently down to his own pressure. "Hey, I thought this was my Christmas present?" Bert objected, allowing his hand to slide down around his lover's member and play in light, loose, teasing circles, but refusing the light pushing on his head. "It is. But-fuck-don't act like you don't enjoy this." Quinn struggled to regulate his breathing, and he slid back so he was lying on his back with Bert moving on top of him, making noises he used to only dream of hearing. He felt the soft caresses of the silk sheets on their bed and he felt the hard, loving slides and pressure of Bert writhing on him. Quinn sighed through his mouth and needed to have Bert moving in him and making the same noises, but louder. He reached his hands up to come to a rest on Bert's sliding hips, and knotted his legs firmly around Bert's waist, allowing him access. Bert reached up and touched his fingers to Quinn's lips, "Suck." he requested. Quinn opened his mouth and sucked hard on Bert's fingers, swirling his tongue around them. Bert shivered, remembering exactly what that tongue could do, and moved slightly, to allow himself to slide his fingers inside Quinn. He started with two, and quickly joined them with a third. Moving them quickly, as Quinn pressed his hips down until Bert was practically fucking him with his fingers, after a minute or two, Bert pulled them out, not able to wait any more. Placing a gentle hand on Quinn's leg, Bert eased himself slowly inside. They had down this so many times, Quinn always needed less preparation than Bert. He knew Quinn liked the small pain. It was a little thing of his. Bert pushed hard, deep in Quinn until he could go no further, and the tightness and the soft movement of Quinn's body, pressed tight against his own. Pressing in and out, Bert ignored his own pleasure in favour of searching for the one spot inside that would make hi-Quinn's back suddenly arches fast and high. Ah. There it was. Bert drove himself deeper into his lover and gasping, he looked into at Quinn to see his eyes shut, he felt his hands scratching at his back as Quinn mewled and slammed his own hips up. Placing a warm hand on the back of Bert's head, Quinn drew him to his mouth and breathing hard and fast, filthy phrases sliding easily from his mouth, things that he knew Bert liked to hear. It was a little thing of his. White stars flitted in his vision and his hips moved in a natural, intense rhythm. Quinn wriggled under him and his vision narrowed to just Quinn and him. The rest of the world didn't exist then. "I...Quinn, I'm gonna come." He gasped. Quinn jammed his hips up, and begged, "Bert, touch me, I need to...Bert." Wanting to try something new, he pressed his lips to the shell of Quinn's ear and breathed out, "Come." without touching him. Quinn moaned, frantically jerking his hips and gripping Bert's shoulders. "Come. Quinn. Now, come for me." Bert instructed, and panting, Quinn spilled his heat on their stomachs, with his eyes rolling and his mouth crying Bert's name constantly in a delirious chant.
Exhaustion overcame them both and Bert had just enough energy to pull himself out and roll into a comfortable position, with Quinn wrapped carefully in his arms. Quinn had enough energy to pull Bert's underwear on him lovingly, because he knew Bert didn't like to wake up fully naked and curl happily into Bert's warm body. Touching his lips chastely against his lover's, Quinn sighed. "I love you." Bert smiled, and pressed his lips to Quinn's forehead. "I know honey, I love you, too. Sleep." Bert closed his own eyes and drifted off into dreams of memories and band performances and Quinn.
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