Essence of Quinn Parts 3 & 4 (MxM)

A Different Ghoul

Calista left them just after dawn to find Water and the others for their swim. Quinn and Air lay in the furs for a little while longer, but they couldn’t rest.  

In a few hours’ time, Amaya would arrive for her visit, and Quinn’s mood had improved no end because of it. As always, Air exuded nervous energy, and his excitement was palpable. This had led to their current position in the shower of the den’s bathroom. They were supposed to be getting cleaned up, but taking a shower together often caused them to take much longer than it should, or to be late if they had somewhere else to be. 

Quinn came down and his teeth were nipping the juncture of Air’s shoulder. He’d pressed the other ghoul against the tile of the stall, face to the side, hand cupping the back of Quinn’s head. They were both breathing hard and Air whined as Quinn let go of him and pulled out. 

“Fuck,” he groaned.  

Quinn spun him round to face him and nuzzled against his neck. 

“Took the edge off?” 

Air sighed and grinned at him. It was crooked, and his eyes glinted purple. 

“A little.” 

They cleaned up and before long, Quinn stood before the mirror above the double sink, brushing his teeth and scowling at himself.  

He’d never been comfortable looking at his reflection. Had always tried to avoid it wherever possible. Hated seeing the photographs that Air took of him. Until recently, he hadn’t analysed the reason, but the memory of his sire that had surfaced not too long ago made him realise why; Quinn looked just like him. The hair, the eyes, the build. Everything.  

He rinsed the toothbrush and slammed it back into the holder, raking his fingers through his hair. It had grown out again. Since Air had given him an impromptu haircut at the cabin months and months ago, it hadn’t been touched again. He’d resorted to tying some of it back from his face when he was training or working, but the rest of the time, it was the usual unruly mop, falling over his eyes, just the way he liked it. 

He glared at it, tried smoothing it down, tried pulling it away from his face, tried tucking it behind his ears, but everything he did, the face looking back, still haunted him. His sire had worn his the same way as all of Quinn’s attempts, and realising it had soured his mood. He snarled.

Stupid fucking hair. 

Air came to stand behind him, arms hugging his bare stomach and resting his chin on his shoulder. He met his eyes in the reflection.

“What’s wrong?”  

Air was used to Quinn’s mood swings by now. He felt stupid, though. Getting worked up over his fucking hair. He rarely cared too much about his appearance. 

“It just...” He looked up at the blonde strands. Beach waves, Water called them. Beach hair, don’t care, he always said. Quinn snorted. “Will you cut it off?” 

Air whined. He loved Quinn’s hair. Always made a point of telling him, stroking it, twisting it in his fingers, burying his face into it. 

“Cut it off? As in, all of it?” 

He reached up and ran his fingers through it, rubbing a lock between them. 

“Like Alpha does his. Just get rid of it.” 

Air whined again and the arm still around Quinn’s stomach tightened. 

Alpha used the clippers on his and kept it cropped close to his scalp. Buzz cut, Quinn had heard someone call it.