[A small buzz began to sound in Eliot's head and grew louder with each passing second that Quentin didn't jump up and bolt away in the opposite direction. Why didn't he run as far from this as he could. There was way too much riding on this, but fuck if Eliot could remember what when Quentin pulled him in closer.
This boldness, it was Eliot's job, and yet as usual he was fucking it up. Why did he always run away when the good stuff lay within reach? Something in his brain clicked over and maybe, for this one time it could work. There was a fucking beast running around walking through mirrors and hurting people, and who knew what else-- but this little thing. It had possibilities.
Tipping his head up, he nodded. He kept his lips shut for once in his goddamn life and didn't say a word. It was a freaking hallelujah moment. Nothing was said until Quentin's finger traveled over the head of his straining cock. It wept with joy at that touch, and stained the edges of his boxers with something beyond jello. Moaning between them, Eliot swallowed again and breathed out Quentin's name. A single eternity all written in the sound of one name.]
Okay. To my room. I want you to know that this isn't a drunken one night stand though. I can't make it that. Not this time.
[He huffed. He wished that he didn't have to be so fucking serious or sober right now. Who was this person taking over Eliot Waugh and what had he done with the original? Bring back the party animal and make this the drunken night of revelry that this was supposed to be. Tipping his head forward, he did what he'd been dreaming of doing for way too long and he brushed his mouth against Quentin's. It was barely a kiss, but he stole it before pulling away and forcing his cock back in his pants with a serious groan.]
Fuck pants. I really hate these things. This is why I wear robes to half these parties. I wore pants because I didn't think. You. [He gazed at Q now, and shook his head with a brilliant smile] are far more the devil than I ever thought. Come. Now.
[Eliot ran his hand down Quentin's chest and palmed along Quentin's cock fingering over the tip and pumped it a few times through the boxers, making sure it was achingly happy as well. Oh yes, Eliot is the devil. He then pushed it back away into those fun Filory boxers and helped the magician zip it up as well. With the quickness of a jackrabbit, Eliot stole Q's hand in his and it was up to his room, shoving the door shut and locked as fast as humanly possible. The shots lay forgotten on a stand as he began to strip back down-- this time he didn't hold back, pants, underwear, they all went.]
I thought I'd never be out of those clothes. You now. Naked.
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This boldness, it was Eliot's job, and yet as usual he was fucking it up. Why did he always run away when the good stuff lay within reach? Something in his brain clicked over and maybe, for this one time it could work. There was a fucking beast running around walking through mirrors and hurting people, and who knew what else-- but this little thing. It had possibilities.
Tipping his head up, he nodded. He kept his lips shut for once in his goddamn life and didn't say a word. It was a freaking hallelujah moment. Nothing was said until Quentin's finger traveled over the head of his straining cock. It wept with joy at that touch, and stained the edges of his boxers with something beyond jello. Moaning between them, Eliot swallowed again and breathed out Quentin's name. A single eternity all written in the sound of one name.]
Okay. To my room. I want you to know that this isn't a drunken one night stand though. I can't make it that. Not this time.
[He huffed. He wished that he didn't have to be so fucking serious or sober right now. Who was this person taking over Eliot Waugh and what had he done with the original? Bring back the party animal and make this the drunken night of revelry that this was supposed to be. Tipping his head forward, he did what he'd been dreaming of doing for way too long and he brushed his mouth against Quentin's. It was barely a kiss, but he stole it before pulling away and forcing his cock back in his pants with a serious groan.]
Fuck pants. I really hate these things. This is why I wear robes to half these parties. I wore pants because I didn't think. You. [He gazed at Q now, and shook his head with a brilliant smile] are far more the devil than I ever thought. Come. Now.
[Eliot ran his hand down Quentin's chest and palmed along Quentin's cock fingering over the tip and pumped it a few times through the boxers, making sure it was achingly happy as well. Oh yes, Eliot is the devil. He then pushed it back away into those fun Filory boxers and helped the magician zip it up as well. With the quickness of a jackrabbit, Eliot stole Q's hand in his and it was up to his room, shoving the door shut and locked as fast as humanly possible. The shots lay forgotten on a stand as he began to strip back down-- this time he didn't hold back, pants, underwear, they all went.]
I thought I'd never be out of those clothes. You now. Naked.