bakerstreet | fortune cookie meme

(he smiles to himself, studying his cards as if there's a strategy to playing against Quentin.

At this point, it's more like a really slow and drawn out strip tease than it is a game of strip poker but it is kind of fun. And he likes to toy around with Quentin and whatever their relationship is. And it's fun to flirt. And to see Quentin be all confident and in charge.)

I feel like you just want to see my feet.

(He slides his cards closer and then makes a show of removing each sock, which he stuffs into his loafers and waves his hand dismissively.)

I like watching you deal. It gets me all hot and bothered.

Oh yeah? Cards doing it for you, Eliot?

[It's harmless and it's fun and Eliot is being a flirt as always, and it's nice, sometimes, to flirt back, because Eliot is safe? He's something, alright. Always there, always slightly detached in a way that can make Quentin get out of his own head every now and again. In a sarcastic sort of way. He's fairly certain should he ever get a devil on his shoulder, it would look like Eliot and Margo; all smooth, policed and breathlessly intelligent.

He re-shuffles the deck with gusto, showing off like a lot, when he makes it cards do what he wants. Twists and turns his hands and fingers, years of endless practice and boneheaded determination - with a dash of magic. He deals again.]

Maybe I do want to see your feet. Maybe feet does it for me.

Kinda.

(He grins over the cards at him, raising one eyebrow. It is super attractive to see Quentin working the cards. Like his hands are dancing; deft and talented. Pretty things. He'd like to maybe put a few of those fingers in his mouth, or maybe somewhere else.

He clears his throat before he can allow his thoughts to wander in that direction, licking his suddenly dry lips.)

If feet does it for you, I'm cool with it. Everyone has their kinks. It's what makes life interesting.

(He takes his cards again and waits until he can trade them, chewing on the inside of his cheek and tapping his bare toes on the floor.)

Mmm, I don't think I have a kink. Maybe I do and it's going to turn out to be something really stupid, but it's so stupid I haven't even figured it out yet.

Do you need to trade?

[He trades cards for the both of them, flips the open cards on the bed, eyes never leaving Eliot's mouth and the tiny sliver of tongue poking out when he licks his lips.]

Full house. What do you have?

I'm sure you have a kink. Everyone does.

(He shrugs and lays down his cards, already moving to begin unbuttoning his best.)

Full house.

(His eyes cut to watch Quentin as he shrugs his vest off, hanging on the back of his chair for safe keeping.)

Are you having fun?

Don't-!

[What a stupid thing to say and his mouth just goes off on it's own-]

Uhm, I mean... leave the vest on? I win, so I get to choose?

[He claps a hand over his mouth and groans at himself, shaking his head. That only makes his hair fly in to his face and when he looks backup, he can feel that fucking awful flush on his cheeks.]

It's okay. It's a lot more fun than I would have expected from the whole -[vague hand-flailing] spooky cookie conversation.

(his brows raise in question and he pauses, waiting for more instructions.)

Okay, master. What should I take off?

(Arms raise up and out a bit, waiting for his choice.)

Or I can continue?

Ahem. Yeah, sure. Continue.

[Okay, so he might be pouting a little, because maybe the goal had been getting Eliot down to just his vest and underwear. But, hell, he could work with this. Eliot in a shirt wasn't a bad thing, not even a little, and it was still way out of his comfort zone and Eliot was way out of his league, that he really wished (for the millionth time) that he could just stop his brain before it made all these insane conclusions and let him have a little fun.

He deals again, less showy this time, and he curls an arm around his bend legs, to rest his head on it.]

Need to trade cards?

(he straightens himself out when he has the vest off, smiling over at Quentin as his hands press over his chest to make sure no wrinkles formed.)

No, I don't think trading cards is going to help me with this one. You could have pity on me, though, and take off your socks too?

(He laughs, finding him all adorable with his head on his knees.)

A freebie? Why not, the first one's always free, right?

[Smiling, he pulls both socks off and curls his toes in the bed covers, turning over the cards again.]

No? But maybe you'd have won this time? Who knows, cards are just a game of chance.

He snorts at that and shakes his head.)

Nothing is a game of chance when you are dealing with Quentin Coldwater and cards. Don't lie to me.

(he watches Quentin again and smiles to himself.)

I'll try harder to win.

(Because he hasn't really been trying. He's mostly just been waiting to unwrap himself to make Quentin smile.)

I'm not. I can't really control everything about this. But I can, uh, shift the odds?

[Smiling back, he trades two of his own and waits.]

Please do. If you don't, this is just me throwing cards at you until you're naked and not a game.

Alright, alright.

(He toys with his own cards for a moment before deciding on not trading them, which makes him clench his teeth a little bit.)

Straight flush.

(An eyebrow raises as he places his cards down.)

[Smirking, he shows his own hand - a pair and raises his eyebrow back, uncurling a little from the ball he's managed to get himself in to.]

You won. Now what?

Shirt. All I've wanted this whole time was for you to take your shirt off. Show me them titties.

(Keeping a straight face as he speaks, gesturing toward Quentin's chest with a hand.)

Alright. Be prepared to be amazed.

[He says dryly, pulling his shirt over his head and making his hair fly back to his face. He sits back, almost but not quite, hiding behind his bend legs.

He deals again, leaving all cards face-down.]

Again?

(Hooting and clapping his hands for Quentin's amusement, he grins.)

Finally.

(Taking his cards again without much fuss.)

I'm happy now. But let's see who gets naked first.

Happy to oblige?

[Flushing a little and hiding it by concentrating on the cards, he turns the five cards in the middle face-up and turns his own. Two pairs.]

Only one of us are getting naked, though, right? Because the game usually stops when you have nothing up put in the betting pool. And if all your clothes are gone...

(Winks at him before he can look away, and then grins to himself as he looks at his cards.)

Yeah, yeah. At least you took your shirt off.

(And he lays his cards out with a grin)

Three of a kind, baby! I have a lucky streak.

Mmm, I should pay more attention to the cards.

[Gathering the cards in to a discard pile, he looks up with a raised eyebrow.]

Okay? So, what do you want this time?

You can pick. I got what I wanted.

(Winks at him, pushing his cards over, touching his fingers with Quentin's for a brief second.)

Really? Okay, so- I'm picking... my watch.

[He deals again, hands not quite steady and he keeps his eyes mostly on Eliot, or somewhere in his general vicinity and less on the cards, just let's them flow from hand to hand before dealing again. He places the cards face down, not even looking at his cards.]

I don't have to trade any. You?

Your watch.

(Nods his head, watching Quentin play like he doesn't have a care in the world and Eliot's not sure how to take it. He laughs then and trades, surveying his cards.)

Okay. Let's go.

[Cocking his head, he turns his own hand over and smirks - straight flush, and yes, some of the cards might have been played already and should probably be in the discard pile next to Eliot, but- here they are.]

Oh. Does that mean I win again? You're running out of things to take off.

(Three of a kind, and he laughs, shaking his head.)

Okay. What is it this time?

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