Extemporé

So this is the second chapter... :l They\'re coming so fast because I have up to ten already written, lol. Hay guess what it\'s 4 am. :B


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Ch. 2 Good morning, starshine.

“Oh god, Henn…” came a whispered sob. “It’s all over your face…” He felt gentle hands wiping his hair and mess off and out of his face. He was so very weak. So exhausted. So, so sore… He couldn’t even open his eyes. It took him a moment to register the voice that was talking to him. …It was Quinn. He wanted to struggle. To bite. To hit… to just get away from his attacker.
“In our own h-house… Oh god, Henn… I knew I shouldn’t have gone out… why don’t they just leave you alone?” he cried. Henn didn’t know. But he did know he felt so, so unspeakably dirty. Had he not been so inanimate he probably would have thrown up or gagged on the immense feeling of disgust and repulsiveness that he felt dripping off himself. He felt Quinn hugging to him tightly, sobbing over him. His touch was different than it had been before. It was full of remorse; pity; love. Undying. Henn opened his eyes as much as he could, staring up at him.
“S-so… dirty…” he breathed. Quinn pulled his face out of Henn’s hair and looked down at him, holding him tightly, shaking almost as badly as he had been last night. Quinn nodded feverishly.
“O-of course… I-I’ll draw y-you a bath…” he murmured, picking Henn up and cradling him like a baby, carrying him into the bathroom. He drew water into the tub and undressed himself, somehow managing to do so without ever letting go of Henn. Once the tub was filled, he got in with Henn in tow.
“Henn…” Quinn whispered. “Are you… are you okay?” he asked shakily, picking up a bar of soap and beginning to run it through Henn’s fur. Henn was sitting, but still slumped heavily against him. He was quiet… he didn’t want to talk to Quinn. He was still scared of him… Would it happen again? Why did it happen in the first place? It was so unnatural and just… not something Quinn would ever, ever do to him. The warm water felt good on his sore body, but it did nothing to wash off the film of filth he felt on himself. His thoughts were maddening. Should he tell Quinn what he had done to him…? What would that accomplish? He might get angry with him… he might deny it… or worse, he might do it again. Even worse than that… He shuddered violently as Quinn’s washings moved to his lower back, shying away sharply and recoiling to the other side of the tub. Quinn’s look was deeply concerned. He kneeled and shuffled over to him, letting a gentle hand brush his bangs from his eyes.
“Henn…” he whispered, sounding deeply, deeply hurt. Henn let out a helpless whimper. There had to be some logical explanation for this. It couldn’t have been Quinn. Quinn wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt Henn. He’d sooner hang himself than ever harm one strand of fur on Henn’s body. Henn shivered as Quinn’s hand slid to gently hold his cheek. “Please… talk to me…” Quinn whined, drawing close to Henn and just holding him tightly. Henn flinched at the motion, making a noise of discomfort but complying a short moment later. It wasn’t Quinn, he decided forcefully. Not this heavenly body that had taken him in, into his protection and into his love. Not this person that had agreed to be called his owner, simply because Henn thought that being owned by the one thing in life he still loved would give him a purpose in this world. Not Quinn. Not his everything. He sighed shakily into Quinn’s neck, his eyes closed and he clinging to him tightly. He couldn’t completely agree with the mindset that Quinn wasn’t to blame. It was HIM there. Quinn. His voice. His orders. His hands. His gentle, loving hands, causing him so much pain and anguish. He opened his eyes slowly, thinking on it. Wasn’t that… sort-of thing… supposed to be enjoyable? He wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe he didn’t enjoy it… his ears fell. Maybe it was so terrible because Quinn had classified it as his punishment. Henn did have to admit… at times it did send a little thrill through him. But punishment… whatever for? He frowned. Maybe Quinn really couldn’t stand him… And why didn’t he fight back? He almost laughed. Because he physically couldn’t. Henn was in no way physically fit to fight anyone. Especially not Quinn. No, he wasn’t mentally fit enough to fight Quinn. The idea of hurting him was as evil as the thought of a Buddhist casting a statue of the Jolly Buddha into a pit of fire. No matter what. He’d never be able to hurt him. And… Henn swallowed nervously. It wasn’t as if he was really harming Henn… it was, for the most part, just mental damage. Henn had dealt enough with that to be able to deal with it. It wouldn’t be worth it to hurt him, just to make him stop. Henn wasn’t that kind-of person. He was the kind-of person that’d sit and take it. He knew he probably deserved it. He’d done something bad he’d forgotten about… that was all. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn’t even hear as Quinn started sobbing over him again. Henn was so confused… Love, hate. A paradox. Even if he did do something wrong… how could… No. He refused to believe. It wasn’t him. Quinn pulled back slowly, gently brushing hair out of Henn’s face. He looked almost as shaken as Henn felt. He whined. He didn’t want to believe it… It. Wasn’t. Him. It couldn’t have been. But if it was… he wanted to enjoy these precious few… minutes? Hours? Before it happened again. He couldn’t help it. No matter how cruel Quinn was to him…. He loved him. More than anything. Quinn was mumbling things to him, sweet, misdirected nothings, apologies, sentiments. His stare was glassy, aimed at the water’s surface below him, his hand sifted through his hair and resting on his forehead. He was trembling still and crying. Henn felt so terrible… so sorry for him. Quinn didn’t even know. And he couldn’t tell him, either… Dear Lord no. Henn didn’t even want to know what Quinn would do to himself if he found out he was treating him like that. Henn leaned forward, gently tilting his chin upward, and silencing his mutterings as he took his mouth with his. He held it for a moment, pulling back a minute later and giving him the calmest look he could manage. A subtle, ‘I’ll be okay.’. Quinn’s eyes filled with tears.
“Oh god… I love you so much.” He practically dove forward into Henn’s arms, locking his mouth with his own and pinning him to the other side of the bathtub. Though surprised, Henn didn’t struggle or try to escape. Quinn broke the kiss after a moment or so, clinging to him savagely. “You’re mine…” A kiss. “All mine…” Another kiss. “No one… else can… have you…” he grumbled, every pause punctuated with another kiss somewhere on Henn’s face. The torrent stopped after a bit, Quinn leaning back and just letting his fingertips run over Henn’s cheeks. He shook his head sadly, sighing.
“Let’s get out of this water…” he murmured. “I’m sure you’ve sat in this filth long enough.” Henn nodded, more than happy to comply. He just wanted to lie down. Sleep. …for a long time. He didn’t feel like doing anything. Maybe not ever again. Quinn got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around himself, then started to let the water out. He fetched a small cup, filling it with the faucet and rinsing the soap and any remaining mess out of Henn’s fur. That’s what Henn hated most about bathing… everything stuck in his fur. After he was completely cleaned, Quinn helped him to stand, steadying him. He got him a towel and wrapped it for him, helping him out. Henn turned to face him, giving a pleading sort-of look.
“C-carry me, please…?” he asked, his voice an accidental whimper. Quinn nodded, gently scooping Henn into his arms.
“Where to?” he asked quietly. Henn shook his head, leaning it against his chest and closing his eyes. He didn’t care anymore. He felt Quinn sigh and start to walk. He was asleep before he even found out where they went.