The flush runs from cheeks down to chest as Cillian Quinn care for him like no one else can.

"They could never do it like you can." Love drunk, brimming over, skin sensitive after not being touched in what felt like millennium. His thighs twitch and hips jump.

"I love you, Cillie. I love you so much."

And then we need to fade to black cause Temp and Gavin bang-a-ranged for a long time.

Later, much later, with moonlight peeking through the windows, Temp is curled around Gavin and clinging to him like he'll die if they're separated.

At some point during their desperate reunion, Gavin had tugged his lover into the shower to cleanse them both of their time spent apart. Now, snuggled close against Temp's chest, Gavin cards his fingers through long brown hair and peppers tired kisses wherever he can reach with the other curled tight around him.

Coward, whispers a treacherous thought, but Gavin clings tighter and wills it away.

Will it be so easy to deny, when Temp isn't there?

"Stay with me." The words retain a pleading note that suggests he won't fuss if Temp has to go. He doesn't like to make the other feel guilty, and yet he'd felt so horrible on Temp's account for the past week that— "I sleep better when you're here."

And, unspoken, if you leave, how do I know you'll come back?

Anything, Temp had promised, and if Gavin had to use that leverage to ensure he wouldn't sleep alone, well...

Temp's finger trail through the fluff of Cillian Quinn's still damp hair, massaging the back of his neck idly as he presses closes to his lover.

He's pleasantly exhausted, both from the previous activities as well as his own poor sleep schedule the last few days.

"Couldn't leave anyway." Is mumbled, sleepy and honest between them. "My bed's too cold without you."

As if to show that, Temp tries to snuggle closer, worm under the blankets and curl even further around Gavin.

"I love you, Cillie." A soft sigh as his eyes slip closed. Not asleep, just dozing, enjoying Gavin.

Fingers press against the nape of his neck and Gavin's breath shivers, eyes closing of their own accord. He makes a soft sound and leans back into the touch not unlike a cat seeking attention.

He hums softly in understanding, perhaps agreement. It's not just the warmth Gavin misses when they're apart. It's the presence, whether Temp is curled around him or sitting at the foot of the bed or in the bathroom brushing his teeth with the soft hush of the water to let Gavin know he's still near. It's that feeling that he's safer, somehow — and it doesn't entirely make sense, because he's perfectly capable of self-defense and an avatar besides, but Temp makes him feel... well, he's never been able to properly identify the feeling.

It's a nice feeling.

Coward, his thoughts whisper, but Temp calls him Cillie and chases them away.

Perhaps that's what it is. No matter Gavin's strength, few things could shield him from the poison of his own thoughts. That's why it had hurt so much, that sting of betrayal like a slap when Temp had called him coward and Gavin, besides.

He curls into Temp's hold, breathing slow. He's quiet for a long moment.

"My dad used to call me a coward." It's always back to daddy issues, isn't it? "When Theo called me weak I tried to kill him. It's — a sore spot, so even though you said you didn't mean it and you don't really think it I just—"

His words start to tumble out in an anxious rush and he curbs their flow, frustrated with himself.

"It'll take a while," he admits, sounding unhappy. "To forget."

"It should take a while." Sometime between the start of Cillian Quinn's talking and the end, Temp creaks his eyes back open. Watches his lover quietly before he moves to sit up. Not get up fully, just lean against the headboard, try to draw Gavin into his arms. They won't be sleeping yet even if his body craves it. There were still wounds for the two of them to lick.

"I was a cunt to you, Cill." It's acceptance. He hurt Gavin and Gavin still had a raw spot that was plucked over his heart. Real wounds didn't get healed with just a kiss. They still took time no matter how much love you poured into them. "I'll tell you every day how strong you are if it helps." He reached for the other's hand, to squeeze softly.

"Your dad doesn't know shit about being a coward, anyway." It's bitten out, spat. Temp never knew he could have so much vitriol and rage for a man he's never even met, doesn't even know what he looks like. "Didn't he do that shit to you when you were a kid? What kind of fuck up is so weak he has to resort to bullying children to make him feel better?"

It's still raw, wounds fresh. So when Temp shifts, however subtly, Gavin draws back from him with eyes wide and full of a sharp panic. He holds his breath without realizing, expecting that his lover will move from the bed and from the room and from the house and from his life; he's said the wrong thing, again, done the wrong thing, just like he'd done with Theo.

The certainty of it is so overwhelming that it takes several seconds for him to register Temp guiding him into his arms, against his chest. Gavin clings like a drowning man to a raft, heart racing and fingers trembling.

I thought... I thought...

His lip quivers and tears prick his eyes, unshed, as he buries his face against Temp's bare chest and releases his held breath against his lover's skin. Weak, coward, comes the chant, louder in his trauma. He sniffles, brow furrowed at his own emotions as he struggles to rectify them with Temp's sweet words. How can he be considered strong when he's so fucking weak?

A strangled noise of frustration catches in his throat as he swipes at his eyes.

"S-Sorry," he mumbles, shaky, "I don't..."

He doesn't finish the thought. He holds so tight it's bound to be uncomfortable, as if Temp might slip away from him otherwise. Ordinarily, harsh words spoken of his father might've made him smile. Now, he barely hears them. He wants nothing more than to beg Temp to stay with him, to forgive him even though he's not the one who'd brought all this about. Pathetic, he tells himself harshly, but it's his father's voice he hears. Look at you, sniveling and crying like a child.

I am a child! he'd insisted back then, an offense that had earned him a stinging backhand. Now, he has no such stubborn defense. Surely that makes it worse, that he's in such a state.

"Damn it, why am I crying?" Said half to himself, another spiteful swipe at the tears. His eyes are red. "Fuck, I'm—" Sorry, he almost says again, but what comes out is, "—such a fucking mess."

Tempest Quinn

Temp had gotten caught up in his anger but that doesn't mean he's blind. Not this time, not like before when he ran from the house in an angry blaze. His attention is snapped back to Cillian Quinn, to his boyfriend, when he quivers in his arm. Like a leaf in the wind. So unlike how Gavin holds himself.

It's not weak.

And Temp draws him closer into his arms, tight and secure, and it makes him feel both angry and proud. The anger at everyone who has ever told his lover than expressing himself is wrong and bad and something to be ashamed of. Pride at being someone he would allow to see in this state.

"You're my mess." Temp answers, quiet but certain, said like he was claiming ownership of a priceless painting and not his boyfriend in a fragile state. A gentle hand is lifted to cup gavin's cheek, swipe a thumb to brush away tears with the kindness they deserved.

"I think if I ever got my hands on all the people who made you feel this bad to start with I'd go to prison."

Breath shudders in his lungs as Temp draws him closer.

"Yours."

It's a strangely freeing feeling, to allow himself to be possessed. To melt into his lover's arms and discard the heavy mantle of protector. To feel cared for and so loved it makes his chest ache.

A strangled laugh. "You're too pretty for prison."

But his thoughts are far away.

It's what had drawn him to Theo, he realizes — that feeling of shelter. After he'd sworn his loyalty to the other in exchange for his life, he'd always felt safe with him. It had been a feeling utterly unique to them, until—

Gavin's looking at Temp as if seeing him for the first time.

They could have never given me what I wanted.

Unconditional love. Unequivocal loyalty.

But you can.

"I am." There's a sudden, overwhelming certainty in his voice. He's smiling as quickly as he'd started sobbing, before. Temp must think he's losing his damn mind — but he's never felt so sure of anything. "Yours. I promise."

Tempest Quinn

"Mine." Echoed back with reverence. Ownership- but in two parts. Temp belonged to Cillian Quinn as much as Gavin belonged to Temp.

Temp let's the prison comment go, he probably is too pretty for prison, but then Gavin's smiling as bright as the sun and twice and blinding. His smile is as beautiful as it is alarming. But, it's been an emotional roller-coaster of a day, and Temp is pretty sure that Gavin just broke some type of emotional dam when he was crying, so Temp will wait until his boyfriend is feeling a little more stable before he brings it up.

"I love you. I always will. Promise.." A soft peck is placed on the top of Gavin's head.

"Get some sleep. I'll be here hogging the blankets when you wake up." And, Temp is sure now, he will be for the rest of his life.