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Quinn’s chest, then paused and nipped, hard. Quinn gasped, and Aaron kissed the spot better, then moved on, with no discernible pattern, until he found whatever he was looking for and nipped again, just as hard. Another kiss soothed the soreness, another trail of kisses led to another sharp nip, and Quinn found himself teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain. His whole body felt alive, sensitized, and his senses strained to compensate for his lost vision. When Aaron finally pulled away and replaced his mouth with gentle, questing fingers, Quinn wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
    “Have you eaten yet?” Aaron asked, and the question was so unexpectedly prosaic that it took Quinn a moment to understand it.
    “Dinner? You mean, have I had dinner?”
    “Yes, Quinn. Have you had dinner?” Aaron sounded amused.
    “Uh, no. Not yet.”
    “Good.” There was a rustle as Aaron rose to his feet. “I won’t give you much; we don’t want you too full to move, after all. But maybe a snack.” Quinn heard the fridge door open, then shut, and there was a clatter as Aaron set something on the table.
    Quinn waited patiently and was soon rewarded with the brush of something cold against his lips. He opened his mouth a little and leaned forward to capture whatever Aaron was offering, but it was nowhere to be found. “Aaron?”
    No words, just a gentle hand on Quinn’s chest, pushing him back until he was sitting straight. Damn. No questions, and now no movement? Aaron was taking this seriously. And that meant that Quinn would too. He made himself still and waited as patiently as he could.
    The reward was another brush of whatever Aaron was offering, and this time Quinn didn’t let himself move. Aaron pushed the food a little farther into Quinn’s mouth, and he took a gentle, cautious bite. A burst of cold juice, and he knew what he was eating and bit the rest of the way through the strawberry. A bit of a cliché, maybe, but Aaron was a rookie. And they hadn’t had strawberries in the fridge that morning, so that meant that Aaron had bought them today. Quinn had been off at work, thinking about Aaron, and apparently Aaron had been at the market, thinking about Quinn. That was good to know.
    Quinn wasn’t really convinced that there was a sexy way to chew food, but he did his best—mostly, he just slowed everything down. It seemed to be working on Aaron, anyway; Quinn could feel the hand that had been lightly resting on his thigh tighten, curving so Aaron’s fingernails were in contact with the rough denim of Quinn’s work pants. He swallowed the first mouthful, then sat and waited to see if Aaron would provide more.
    Instead, Quinn felt Aaron’s hand wrap around the back of his head almost roughly, pulling him forward into a deep, punishing kiss. The force of Aaron’s lips overrode the pressure from his hand, and Quinn was pushed backward into the chair, Aaron’s body following, wedging between Quinn’s legs and crushing in. Aaron’s tongue slid into Quinn’s mouth as if it were chasing the last sweetness of the strawberry, and Quinn surged forward, not to escape the embrace but just to deepen it, to help Aaron in his quest to somehow fuse their bodies together.
    He should have known better, he supposed, because it seemed to be his movement that brought Aaron back to himself and reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing. Aaron pulled his body away as his strong hand braced against Quinn’s chest, and they both stayed still for a long moment. Quinn could hear the blood thumping through his ears, and he could absolutely feel it pulsing through his imprisoned cock. Finally, the strawberry returned, and Quinn obediently bit, chewed, and swallowed. Aaron’s fingers played over Quinn’s jaw and throat the whole time, gently pressing, testing, smoothing the skin. Quinn felt like Aaron was reading Braille, and wondered what message he was getting.
    “Do you want more?” Aaron asked.
    “If you