[ Eliot smiles against Quentin’s lips as they kiss. He brings his hand up to cup Quentin’s cheek, more than happy to stand here and kiss until he’s breathless.
Eventually he pulls away, only far enough to bump their noses together while his hands slip up under Quentin’s sweater. ]
[The sweater only tangles on his wrists a little, trapping Quentin's arms behind his head briefly before he pulls hard and they're on a more even playing field. Stripped naked to the waist and wow, Quentin wastes no time going for it. Just pushing them together to get his hands in Eliot's hair and his mouth on his.]
[ Is what Eliot manages to get out between kisses.
He runs his hands down Quentin's sides and over his hips, resting them there for a moment before he steps back and pulls Quentin with him. Eliot maneuvers his way on to the bed, all the way guiding Quentin along - he was promised cuddles, after all. ]
[A small sound of agreement as Quentin helps them along, pushing gently as Eliot pulls, hands hopelessly tangled in the soft curls at the nape of Eliot's neck. Kissing like this is what he came here for, like he doesn't have a lowgrade hangover still beating a tattoo at the base of his skull and like he isn't so hopeless gone for Eliot that he was willing to let it keep pounding away at him just to get this.
Pushing until the back of Eliot's knees hit the bedframe and they tumble in to bed, the world tilts and Quentin's stomach swoops unpleasantly.]
Sweater all gone.
[Mumbled from somewhere against Eliot's neck before Quentin pulls back a little, squinting against the late afternoon sunlight, stomach still churning lazily as nausea climbs up his throat.]
[ He laughs a little, a soft sound as he squeezes the back of Quentin’s neck before rubbing his back. ]
Think you can manage a little spooning?
[ Eliot presses a light kiss to Quentin’s lips. His hands drop down between them so he can undo Quentin’s jeans and help him shimmy out if them (cuddling in bed in jeans just doesn’t seem comfortable). ]
[It's more of a wriggle than a smooth shimmy but the jeans come off and Quentin kicks them off the bed, rolling off of Eliot and down to bury his face in the soft pillow next to Eliot's head.]
Covers.
[Not because it's cold exactly, but being under the covers while cuddling? Sounds just like the thing and like something Quentin's stomach could agree with. He tries to catches them with his toes, half-pulling and half-dragging them up to cover them both.
Everything smells like Eliot, and there's soft naked skin under his hands as he nudges Eliot's shoulder.]
He helps Quentin pull up the blankets, which, no, are definitely not needed, but Eliot's always felt a little on the cold side and there's nothing quite like the feeling of being enveloped in someone's arms, then enveloped again in blankets.
He presses a kiss to the corner of Quentin's mouth before he turns on his side, reaching behind him to pull Quentin in close. ]
[And that's all it takes for Quentin to shuffle up as close as he can get, one arm sliding around Eliot's waist to pet his stomach. There's soft cloth against his own bare legs and the wide expanse of Eliot's back against his face when he leans forward and rests his forehead between his shoulder-blades.]
Too busy?
[Another kiss, this time to the skin on Eliot's shoulder before Quentin relaxes in to the bed and just... melts. In to the warmth of Eliot, the scent of him on the bed and the frankly, amazingly soft bed.]
[ Eliot just hums, exhaling a pleased sigh at the brush of Quentin's lips against his shoulder.
He settles into Quentin just as easily, putting his arm over Quentin's to hold him in place. Not that he thinks Quentin's going to go anywhere, but Eliot likes the feeling. ]
[ Which might seem weird, that Eliot would pick a person over drugs or alcohol, but he's just as much addicted to people as he is anything else. And there's really nothing quite like the feeling of Quentin's arms around him and nothing around that might ruin this perfectly happy moment. ]
I know I was really adamant about spooning but I need you to know that in a few moments I'm going to roll over because I could really go for another kiss.
[He's not better because of this. It's not like the quiet-loud voice in the back of his mind suddenly stops talking trash just because he has his arm wrapped around Eliot on a soft, luxurious bed. It's not like his broken brain is suddenly all fine just because he fell in love again, or because he can distract himself by carting his fingers through the hairs on Eliot's chest or get a little lost just pushing his face against the soft skin under Eliot's ear.
It's nothing as easy as that.
But.
It does help.
It's something and Quentin laughs softly.]
Also, in the spirit of honesty? I could really go for a kiss, too.
[ Eliot laughs. It rumbles in his chest and his throat, and he takes a moment to enjoy the spooning a little longer before he's rolling over. He ends up partially on top of Quentin, given how closely they were pressed together, which means he's left smiling down at the other man. ]
I'd be incredibly upset if you ever stopped want to kiss me.
Can you not be so greedy and let me enjoy looking at you?
[ But Quentin smiles and that's pretty irresistible to Eliot, so he leans down to press a kiss to his lips. A light one at first, then a second that's a little more insistent. ]
[Quentin... melts. There is no other word for it, how his body just goes warm all the way down to his toes. How his mouth just falls open and he's kissing back eagerly, inhaling sharply through his nose when the kiss turns a little dirty.]
I could, but...
[Leaves the tail end of the sentence hanging in the diminishing space between them as he pulls Eliot closer, deepening the kiss with both hands sliding up Eliot's naked back.]
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Eventually he pulls away, only far enough to bump their noses together while his hands slip up under Quentin’s sweater. ]
Arms up.
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[The sweater only tangles on his wrists a little, trapping Quentin's arms behind his head briefly before he pulls hard and they're on a more even playing field. Stripped naked to the waist and wow, Quentin wastes no time going for it. Just pushing them together to get his hands in Eliot's hair and his mouth on his.]
We could have been doing this in a canoe.
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[ Is what Eliot manages to get out between kisses.
He runs his hands down Quentin's sides and over his hips, resting them there for a moment before he steps back and pulls Quentin with him. Eliot maneuvers his way on to the bed, all the way guiding Quentin along - he was promised cuddles, after all. ]
I like this a little more, I think.
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[A small sound of agreement as Quentin helps them along, pushing gently as Eliot pulls, hands hopelessly tangled in the soft curls at the nape of Eliot's neck. Kissing like this is what he came here for, like he doesn't have a lowgrade hangover still beating a tattoo at the base of his skull and like he isn't so hopeless gone for Eliot that he was willing to let it keep pounding away at him just to get this.
Pushing until the back of Eliot's knees hit the bedframe and they tumble in to bed, the world tilts and Quentin's stomach swoops unpleasantly.]
Sweater all gone.
[Mumbled from somewhere against Eliot's neck before Quentin pulls back a little, squinting against the late afternoon sunlight, stomach still churning lazily as nausea climbs up his throat.]
Maybe not quite as ready for this as I thought?
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Think you can manage a little spooning?
[ Eliot presses a light kiss to Quentin’s lips. His hands drop down between them so he can undo Quentin’s jeans and help him shimmy out if them (cuddling in bed in jeans just doesn’t seem comfortable). ]
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Covers.
[Not because it's cold exactly, but being under the covers while cuddling? Sounds just like the thing and like something Quentin's stomach could agree with. He tries to catches them with his toes, half-pulling and half-dragging them up to cover them both.
Everything smells like Eliot, and there's soft naked skin under his hands as he nudges Eliot's shoulder.]
Roll over?
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He helps Quentin pull up the blankets, which, no, are definitely not needed, but Eliot's always felt a little on the cold side and there's nothing quite like the feeling of being enveloped in someone's arms, then enveloped again in blankets.
He presses a kiss to the corner of Quentin's mouth before he turns on his side, reaching behind him to pull Quentin in close. ]
Why don't we Day Cuddle more often?
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[And that's all it takes for Quentin to shuffle up as close as he can get, one arm sliding around Eliot's waist to pet his stomach. There's soft cloth against his own bare legs and the wide expanse of Eliot's back against his face when he leans forward and rests his forehead between his shoulder-blades.]
Too busy?
[Another kiss, this time to the skin on Eliot's shoulder before Quentin relaxes in to the bed and just... melts. In to the warmth of Eliot, the scent of him on the bed and the frankly, amazingly soft bed.]
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[ Eliot just hums, exhaling a pleased sigh at the brush of Quentin's lips against his shoulder.
He settles into Quentin just as easily, putting his arm over Quentin's to hold him in place. Not that he thinks Quentin's going to go anywhere, but Eliot likes the feeling. ]
Busy turning over canoes.
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[A soft, slow slide of his face against Eliot's skin, the beat of his heart against Quentin's palm and he exhales, melting in to the bed.
There's nothing better than this, nestled up close, holding Eliot closer and just... being.]
Doing stupid shit like getting drunk and high in a canoe.
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[ Which might seem weird, that Eliot would pick a person over drugs or alcohol, but he's just as much addicted to people as he is anything else. And there's really nothing quite like the feeling of Quentin's arms around him and nothing around that might ruin this perfectly happy moment. ]
I know I was really adamant about spooning but I need you to know that in a few moments I'm going to roll over because I could really go for another kiss.
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[He's not better because of this. It's not like the quiet-loud voice in the back of his mind suddenly stops talking trash just because he has his arm wrapped around Eliot on a soft, luxurious bed. It's not like his broken brain is suddenly all fine just because he fell in love again, or because he can distract himself by carting his fingers through the hairs on Eliot's chest or get a little lost just pushing his face against the soft skin under Eliot's ear.
It's nothing as easy as that.
But.
It does help.
It's something and Quentin laughs softly.]
Also, in the spirit of honesty? I could really go for a kiss, too.
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I'd be incredibly upset if you ever stopped want to kiss me.
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Are you going to kiss me? Because if you're not going to kiss me, you can turn back around and let me hug you just a little bit more.
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[ But Quentin smiles and that's pretty irresistible to Eliot, so he leans down to press a kiss to his lips. A light one at first, then a second that's a little more insistent. ]
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I could, but...
[Leaves the tail end of the sentence hanging in the diminishing space between them as he pulls Eliot closer, deepening the kiss with both hands sliding up Eliot's naked back.]