When Eliot woke up in the morning he was happy to find not only that Q was in bed next to him, but that his slow, even breathing indicated that he was still asleep. Better still, he was on his stomach, head turned to the side, a sweet, peaceful expression on his face.

Eliot took a moment to admire his boy, brushing a lock of hair out of his face and kissing his forehead, but there was no time to linger as far as he was concerned. He had Important Business to attend to. Reaching for the lube he'd left on the nightstand last night, confident as the was that he was going to be the one to win this little race. With one hand pinning Quentin's gently to prevent any, mm, missteps, he kissed his shoulder, slicking two fingers and pushing first one, then a second, inside of him while he slept.