I don't think you and I are capable of turning into fish. We're sailors - we're as near to fish as we can be already! Though you would make the most alluring merman - or a trout, maybe a kipper.
[ he hums, teasing him again and stretching languidly in koby's lap, the fingers weaving in and out of his curls so soothing in a way he's never experienced. ]
It feels like you'll get yourself in a tangle like this.
[ but koby explains and he hums thoughtfully, listening to his story and trying to imagine the fair-faced boy with long hair. it would suit him in a way, and quentin wonders what it would be like to thread his fingers through it and give little tugs and pulls. but he can immediately connect why the long hair went, why the koby he's meeting now is different from the one who came long before. ]
I like your hair. The color. Unusual, but memorable. I could never forget a fellow navigator with pink hair - with those big eyes and glasses - no less that stubborn tongue. You are stuck to the very roof of my skull, whether you wish to be or not, my fellow navigator.
[ he laughs a little, feeling the way the braid starts to come to an end. he's miserably impatient, but pleasantly sated. he shouldn't turn, he shouldn't roll to his stomach in the bath, in koby's lap but he does anyway, arms reaching for the tub to bracket koby in, legs sprawled behind him in the water as he pulls himself up into koby's space and kisses him hard, slow, his own body still burning from the afterglow. ]
It means I must spend all night scrubbing the very image of you out of my mind. It will be a long, laborious task. One that will mean I need supervision from the lands' finest medic.
[ he nudges their noses together, playful and tired and laughing against koby's mouth. ] You simply cannot kick me out. Your bed is far closer than mine - you wouldn't want me to get injured on the way to my rooms would you?
[ all that to say: please invite me to stay. our time can't be up yet. ]
no subject
[ he hums, teasing him again and stretching languidly in koby's lap, the fingers weaving in and out of his curls so soothing in a way he's never experienced. ]
It feels like you'll get yourself in a tangle like this.
[ but koby explains and he hums thoughtfully, listening to his story and trying to imagine the fair-faced boy with long hair. it would suit him in a way, and quentin wonders what it would be like to thread his fingers through it and give little tugs and pulls. but he can immediately connect why the long hair went, why the koby he's meeting now is different from the one who came long before. ]
I like your hair. The color. Unusual, but memorable. I could never forget a fellow navigator with pink hair - with those big eyes and glasses - no less that stubborn tongue. You are stuck to the very roof of my skull, whether you wish to be or not, my fellow navigator.
[ he laughs a little, feeling the way the braid starts to come to an end. he's miserably impatient, but pleasantly sated. he shouldn't turn, he shouldn't roll to his stomach in the bath, in koby's lap but he does anyway, arms reaching for the tub to bracket koby in, legs sprawled behind him in the water as he pulls himself up into koby's space and kisses him hard, slow, his own body still burning from the afterglow. ]
It means I must spend all night scrubbing the very image of you out of my mind. It will be a long, laborious task. One that will mean I need supervision from the lands' finest medic.
[ he nudges their noses together, playful and tired and laughing against koby's mouth. ] You simply cannot kick me out. Your bed is far closer than mine - you wouldn't want me to get injured on the way to my rooms would you?
[ all that to say: please invite me to stay. our time can't be up yet. ]