[And he's caught in it, in the soft way Eliot looks up at him and wine coursing through his blood, on the shared cigarette and the hint of a firm thigh pressed up against his own. And then it breaks, Eliot's laugh ringing out and he just falls flat on the bed, face somewhere around Eliot's armpit and he laughs helplessly.]
(like a happy little puppy, Quentin melts. Eliot smiles at how content he seems to be with the action and he moves to lie more on his stomach to make it easier to pet him; carding his fingers into Quentin's long hair and then down the back of his neck.)
Thank you.
(Voice soft, but each syllable enunciated in his usual pattern of speech. He's cute. It's a sweet moment, watching his drunk little Quentin snuggle up for a petting. Eliot sighs happily, smiling softly.)
[And maybe it's the wine, or the fact that they're already close to naked and almost cuddled up, but the wine-buzz gives way to sleepiness and Quentin's face cracks in a yawn and he shuffles a little, settling in right where he is, humor in his voice and eyes closed]
(As he relaxes more, Eliot pulls his hands from Quentin's hair so he can wrap him up in his arms. He's big on cuddling so he doesn't even think twice about it.)
Yeah you did.
(Chuckling softly as he hugs him about the shoulders.)
[He says in to the soft skin on Eliot's side, almost asleep. It's nice, hugging. It's even nicer because he's drunk and sort-of-maybe happy, that place just after it's been bad. When feelings start coming back, but they're not overwhelming yet.
Curling up on his side to plaster himself right up against Eliot, wrapping both arms around him, Quentin goes to sleep.
(Eliot's as quiet as he can be, lying awake as he listens to Quentin's breathing even out as he falls asleep. It feels good. So damn good and Eliot drinks it in, not willing to move. Ever. He may never leave that spot again, even after Quentin wakes up with a wine hangover wanting water.
He stays awake, drinking the rest of the wine and keeping as still as possible to soak it all in, drink in how calm and happy Quentin looks. And maybe he dozes off, too, keeping his arm around Q's body the entire time.)
[He wakes up slowly, by inches. Like swimming to the surface of a lake, the sun coming ever closer. Except, instead of swimming for the sun, it's a low-grade headache and Eliot's long arm across his chest and his own leg thrown over Eliot's.
Cracking one eye open, just to make sure- and Eliot looks like he's asleep, head tilted slightly away on the pillow and his breathing's even, slow. His eyelashes are black smudges against his pale face. Snorting to himself, he just closes his eyes and drifts off for a little while longer.]
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(He laughs and wipes his mouth with his hand even after Quentin dabs it with his bed sheet.)
Thanks.
(He flashes a smile at him.)
Was it as good for you as it was for me?
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[And he's caught in it, in the soft way Eliot looks up at him and wine coursing through his blood, on the shared cigarette and the hint of a firm thigh pressed up against his own. And then it breaks, Eliot's laugh ringing out and he just falls flat on the bed, face somewhere around Eliot's armpit and he laughs helplessly.]
That's- that's so corny!
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(He smiles, watching Quentin and how adorable he is when he hides. He twirls a few fingers into Q's floppy hair as he hides, carding through it.)
It makes you smile.
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[Eliot's secret weapon and he all but melts in to the bed at the petting, letting Eliot just keep doing that, while Quentin hides at his side.]
Uh huh. So does that. You have- nice hands.
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Thank you.
(Voice soft, but each syllable enunciated in his usual pattern of speech. He's cute. It's a sweet moment, watching his drunk little Quentin snuggle up for a petting. Eliot sighs happily, smiling softly.)
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[And maybe it's the wine, or the fact that they're already close to naked and almost cuddled up, but the wine-buzz gives way to sleepiness and Quentin's face cracks in a yawn and he shuffles a little, settling in right where he is, humor in his voice and eyes closed]
I still beat you so hard at strip poker.
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Yeah you did.
(Chuckling softly as he hugs him about the shoulders.)
You're a winner.
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[He says in to the soft skin on Eliot's side, almost asleep. It's nice, hugging. It's even nicer because he's drunk and sort-of-maybe happy, that place just after it's been bad. When feelings start coming back, but they're not overwhelming yet.
Curling up on his side to plaster himself right up against Eliot, wrapping both arms around him, Quentin goes to sleep.
He snores a little.]
no subject
He stays awake, drinking the rest of the wine and keeping as still as possible to soak it all in, drink in how calm and happy Quentin looks. And maybe he dozes off, too, keeping his arm around Q's body the entire time.)
no subject
Cracking one eye open, just to make sure- and Eliot looks like he's asleep, head tilted slightly away on the pillow and his breathing's even, slow. His eyelashes are black smudges against his pale face. Snorting to himself, he just closes his eyes and drifts off for a little while longer.]