Page 22 of The Barn: Frost and Q
Seventeen
H aving a dog in the apartment was odd. Cool, but a little odd. Especially when they were having a scene. It was…interesting to say the least.
Quentin would be in his cuffs, and Yukon would just decide that whatever they were doing needed his involvement. Yukon would just jump right in the middle of everything, wagging and trying to participate.
It wouldn’t be so bad, except the little fucker could open the doors. That had been unexpected.
Frost totally believed that animals needed their own space and that space was not in their bedroom.
Yukon, however, disagreed.
Kind of firmly.
He believed that he needed to be wherever his person was, and Quentin was absolutely, unequivocally his person.
Also, it was not helping at all when Q would start giggling in the middle of a scene because Frost was fighting with Yukon.
“You are not helping.”
Quentin cracked up. “I’m sorry, I really am. I’m the worst sub in the whole world.”
He rolled his eyes. “How are you supposed to do anything but crack up? You don’t even have one cuff on, and he starts this shit.”
There was a look of absolute hilarity on Quentin’s face. And there was a puppy—a great big gigantic fuzzball of a dog—leaning on Q’s legs, tongue lolling.
“You have to promise not to tell anybody about this,” Frost said. “I swear to God. I could never show my face down with the other guys ever again.”
“Your secret is safe with me. Yukon, get down.”
That big mutt hopped down and went over to Frost and started wiggling hysterically, tail going ninety to nothing, like, ‘Dad. I’m good, right?’
“We’re going to have to get better door locks.”
Q quirked an eyebrow. “Either that or slicker doorknobs. We got the ones that looked like levers because it was easier for me.”
“Well, we could crate him.”
“We could not crate him. Not like that. I want to have sex, so we’re going to put the dog in a box?” Q was acting like he’d suggested hanging the damn dog by his toenails.
“This is a scene, not sex, and it’s not a box, it’s a crate.”
“Details.”
Frost stared at him, shocked as hell. “Details are important.”
Quentin had to know that. Details were what made things work.
Quentin pursed his lips. “Maybe we could ask one of the new guys to take him.”
Guys. They had two hired, with two more coming to interview next week via Zoom.
“So, I can’t crate him while we’re having a scene, but we can call somebody from downstairs to come watch him?” he teased, tickled as hell at the wild wonderful way his lover’s mind worked. “Hey, y’all, we’re fixing to have a scene. Can you watch our dog? That’s cool with you?”
Quentin nodded. “Yes, it’s a BDSM club. Scenes are what we do. If they’re uncomfortable with that, maybe they should have another job.”
Frost stared at him. “You make me insane. I mean, I adore you. I always have from the moment I saw you, but you make me fucking crazy. You make me want to hurt things.”
Quentin arched an eyebrow. “That doesn’t seem very healthy. And before you start threatening people, you should probably take the cuffs off. I’m not sure that threatening and cuffs go together in this situation.”
He started to sputter, embarrassed and a little taken aback, and then he saw the grin on his lover’s face. Motherfucker. “You really are the worst sub ever.”
Q nodded. “I know. But you love it.”
He shook his head. It was way more likely that he was the worst Dom ever, but that didn’t matter to him. He was who Q needed. “I love you, that’s for sure. That’s got to be enough, doesn’t it?”
Frost took the cuff off, admitting defeat.
Neither one of them were in the head space anyway, and they only wanted to snuggle, so why even bother?
It was just not the best time. If there was anything that he’d learned in his time with Quentin was that sometimes he had to be flexible. “So what would you like to do?”
“Anything.” Quentin shrugged. “We can go swimming?”
“Sure, if you want to. I don’t have a problem with that.”
His phone started ringing, and he frowned, because that was the ringtone for work.
Quentin tilted his head. “Are you on call?”
He shook his head. “No, no, I’m not, but here, let me grab it.”
They wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.
The expression on Q’s face was knowing, and he nodded. “Go.”
He grabbed his phone and answered it. “Hey, Cap, what’s up?”
“We need you. You’ve got a major situation in California, and we need you now. How soon can you be here?”
He did some quick math in his head and then stopped and shook his head, then stopped. He couldn’t just drop everything and run anymore. “Let me…let me call you right back, but I’m not sure.”
“I’m serious, Frost. I need your help. I need you up in the air and on the ground now. People are going to die.”
He shook his head, adrenaline flooding his system and tightening his belly in a wild rush. “I’ll call you back.”
He hung up the phone, and Quentin was right there looking at him.
“So when are you leaving? Do you need me to help you pack?”
“What?” Surely Q didn’t want him to go jumping into a fire? That wasn’t—was this how it was supposed to be?
“Listen, this is your job, right? This is what you do. That’s what I want. I want you to do what you do.”
He shook his head. “I, I can’t just?—”
“What? You can’t just what? Leave me to go to work?
Love, I’m safe as houses. I have my dog, I’ve got my computers, I’ve got the guys.
I am literally the safest human in Alaska.
” Q grabbed his hand and squeezed his fingers.
“You have to promise to be careful, though. Pay attention. Be careful with you.”
He knelt down in front of Quentin’s chair. “I hate this. I hate not going with you.”
Q nodded, his face twisting up a little, proving that maybe his lover wasn’t as calm as he pretended to be. “I hear you. I should be there, I should be helping, but I’m not, and I can’t, so you have to. I’ve got your back, though, don’t worry.”
“You’re good to me.” And he felt so selfish, because he loved the rush, the intensity, the satisfaction of his job.
Q nodded, expression deadly serious. “I know. I love you, I might be the worst sub in the world, but there’s nobody got your back like I do.
Nobody loves you like I do. Nobody ever will.
So come on, let’s get you packed. You’ve got to file a flight plan.
You’ve got to call Cap back. There’s a lot to do, and you don’t have a lot of time to do it. ”
Frost sighed and stole a kiss. “I’ll do this, and then I’m coming home.”
“That’s how it works. You do this, you do your job, and then you come home. That’s the whole enchilada.”
Frost turned his back to Q and grabbed his phone. “Cap, I’m packing my stuff. I can be there tonight.”