That's what the people at the party called it. Everyone kept asking why I wasn't wearing one. Didn't know I was supposed to.
[ quentin bites the inside of his cheek when koby reaches for the wrong doorknob but he says nothing. instead, koby speaks - you caught me - and he smirks a little. ]
Ah, the dictatorial cadet does have a sense of humor. Like I said, all you had to do was tell me you wanted to walk a little closer - I'd hate to spoil your motivation when it looks so sweet on your face.
[ the tinge of pink that isn't sunburn, the fan of fair lashes against fairer cheeks. he looks a wild rogue himself - wild hair and mess face, tired eyes and blood all over. maybe it isn't the time to flirt with a beautiful man, but better to focus on making sure he really doesn't have that head injury.
they enter the room, however, and quentin blinks. books, papers, maps, pens, pencils, tools - everything he's accustomed to in his own study, maps haphazardly places on the walls and preliminary designs crumpled on the floor. odd, how the strangest of places can feel more like home than his own home, as it is now. ]
Don't fuss - I'm happy to visit with your book mountains, perhaps wade through the sea of forgotten maps and unfortunate mistakes.
[ he surveys the room, the rumpled sheets - what must they smell like? koby is warm under his arm, warm at his side. would his neck smell of salt and smoke and dirt? would it smell of summer air in a foreign country? ]
Washroom? Or shall we alight to bed already, Handsome Navigator? I await your firm instruction. [ teasing, teasing, teasing.
no subject
[ quentin bites the inside of his cheek when koby reaches for the wrong doorknob but he says nothing. instead, koby speaks - you caught me - and he smirks a little. ]
Ah, the dictatorial cadet does have a sense of humor. Like I said, all you had to do was tell me you wanted to walk a little closer - I'd hate to spoil your motivation when it looks so sweet on your face.
[ the tinge of pink that isn't sunburn, the fan of fair lashes against fairer cheeks. he looks a wild rogue himself - wild hair and mess face, tired eyes and blood all over. maybe it isn't the time to flirt with a beautiful man, but better to focus on making sure he really doesn't have that head injury.
they enter the room, however, and quentin blinks. books, papers, maps, pens, pencils, tools - everything he's accustomed to in his own study, maps haphazardly places on the walls and preliminary designs crumpled on the floor. odd, how the strangest of places can feel more like home than his own home, as it is now. ]
Don't fuss - I'm happy to visit with your book mountains, perhaps wade through the sea of forgotten maps and unfortunate mistakes.
[ he surveys the room, the rumpled sheets - what must they smell like? koby is warm under his arm, warm at his side. would his neck smell of salt and smoke and dirt? would it smell of summer air in a foreign country? ]
Washroom? Or shall we alight to bed already, Handsome Navigator? I await your firm instruction. [ teasing, teasing, teasing.
or is he? ]