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gave the guy a sweet, lingering kiss.
    “Nate...” There was a warning in Brandon’s voice, but Nate didn’t pay him any heed. He dragged the guy into his bedroom and slammed the door behind them.
    “Fucking immature asshole,” Brandon muttered as he stalked into the direction of Nate’s bedroom. He walked in without knocking, completely ignoring the shouting that came from inside.
    Quinn dropped his face into his hands. Confused, hurt, and utterly miserable, he contemplated getting up, going out the door and never coming back. The past should stay buried, right? There was nothing keeping him in Chicago anymore. He’d graduated, Kai was gone... The world was his oyster. He could do anything he wanted, go anywhere he liked.
    And yet... The only place he wanted to be was where Nate was.
    Quinn could hear shouting coming from the bedroom, but his head was pounding and he couldn’t focus enough to get exactly what was said. He could guess that Brandon was ripping into his brother and, the stubborn hothead Nate was. he wasn’t budging an inch.
    That could go for a while.
    Surprisingly, Brandon stormed out of the room a moment later, his frown making him seem much older than his twenty four years.
    “He’ll be right out,” he declared, storming into the kitchen and opening the fridge with more force than necessary, rattling the contents inside.
    Quinn took a deep breath and tried to stomp down on the jealousy that was blinding him and making him forget his goal. He’d come here to get Nate back and prove to him that he was never leaving again. The blond twink currently locked in the bedroom with Nate didn’t change that one bit.
    The bedroom door swung open and Nate walked out, hand in hand with his hook-up. They were both dressed, thank god. Nate’s hair was still damp, tucked behind his ears. It was a bit longer than Quinn remembered and he liked it. Nate’s wild curls had always fascinated him and he loved running his hands through the soft strands.
    Nate didn’t look at him. Leading the guy to the breakfast bar, Nate let go of his hand, kissed him again and headed for the coffee machine. The guy looked a bit stunned as he scanned the room, his blue eyes curious when they landed on Quinn.
    Brandon hissed something at Nate in the kitchen, but Nate ignored him. He pressed the button on the coffee maker, leaned against the counter, and waited for the coffee to brew.
    “What the fuck is he doing here?” Nate said, loud enough for Quinn to hear.
    “Can we talk about this in private?” Brandon said jerking his chin towards the blond twink currently sitting on one of the bar stools, thrumming his fingers on the counter and driving Quinn crazy.
    “There’s nothing to talk about. I ask you a question, you answer it, and we all move on with our lives.” The coffee filled the pot and Nate turned the machine off. He took two mugs from the cupboard above his head and filled them. When Brandon didn’t reply he said, “Forget it. I don't even care. I was just trying to be polite.”
    Quinn snorted. Loudly. God, how much he wanted that man. He wanted to gather him in his arms and kiss that smart mouth until Nate couldn’t catch his breath to come up with a sarcastic response.
    “Is this amusing to you?” Nate asked, waving his hand around. His eyes narrowed to slits and he folded his arms.
    “No,” Quinn said, biting his lip against a smile.
    “What do you want?” Nate asked.
    You.
    Quinn held Nate’s accusing gaze without flinching. “To talk to you.”
    “Oh, really?” Nate’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes glowing with anger. “See, I’m asking because I thought you’d lost the ability to talk. Or text. Or write emails.”
    Quinn didn’t reply. Nate was right – he had been ignoring every call, text, and email Nate’d sent him during the last two years. He’d saved them all, though. And when things had been exceptionally bad he’d pull Nate’s words on his phone and read them. Over and over again.