"Eliot," Eliot corrects, just because he can, and laughs, mouth still against Quentin's skin. Jesus needed a whole army of little disciples following him around, Eliot just needs Quentin.

And if he wasn't already going to hell, Eliot's sure even having that thought would seal the deal. Worth it.

There are a lot of downsides to being a Magician sometimes. But there are perks. One of them is that when someone beautiful demands you get your pants off, you can do it very, very quickly. Eliot laughs, repeats giddily, "anything." He pulls his hand away from Quentin's dick, not without regret, and pushes his fingers away from pawing at his pants. A little maneuvering and handy telekinesis and he's as naked as Quentin wants him to be. Eliot immediately reaches for him again. "If you keep asking me like that I'll just stay naked all the time," he promises, teeth nipping sharp and quick at Quentin's shoulder before kissing the sting away.