[When Yule rolled around, an irritated pixie delivered a bottle of excellent Lionett Vineyards wine, a small sack of coin, along with a note.]
Happy Yule, Quentin! You can stay.
-Beauregard
Happy Yule, Quentin! You can stay.
-Beauregard
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.
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.
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proofofconcept
2020-09-20 07:31 am (UTC)(link)
As expected, Quentin had gotten to Eliot's from work and been pretty well wiped, only really up for some sleepy kisses and Eliot rubbing his back a little, and even that felt almost wildly decadent. He was sleeping soundly, arms up over his head on the pillow and holding onto the top of it, one over the other. He hadn't, like, intentionally fallen asleep that way, but he wouldn't blame Eliot for taking the opportunity presented.
The first finger made his forehead draw in a little and a small noise emit from his throat, shifting slightly as he started to wake. The second had his eyes blinking open, squinting as he tried to figure out what was happening.
The first finger made his forehead draw in a little and a small noise emit from his throat, shifting slightly as he started to wake. The second had his eyes blinking open, squinting as he tried to figure out what was happening.
"Good morning, baby," Eliot said, curling his fingers up, just as casual and pleasant as though this was a normal, everyday occurrence. "How was your sleep?" pressing a kiss to his shoulder, angling his fingers just so.
Quentin closed his eyes again and inhaled, shifting a little where he was. If Eliot would let him, he rolled onto his side so his back was up against Eliot, prime cuddlefucking position. Eliot could hold his hands in front of him easily enough, and he wanted to stay in this bubble of sleepy safety.
Eliot smiled, adjusting accordingly. Quentin's hands were still pinned, but it was more like he was just holding him, not pinning him, allowing him to feel safe and secure while Eliot fucked him with his fingers.
Quentin could almost go back to sleep like this. The fingers didn't really feel like much, yet, his body taking its time to get with the program, but that was kind of okay. His dick really didn't need to be hard for this, did it? It felt good in a mental way.
Eliot was happy to stay like this for a little while, but soon enough he got bored. he withdrew his fingers for a moment, just long enough to slick a third finger, pressing it inside of him as he kissed his shoulder.
Quentin sighed at that, laying his head back against Eliot's shoulder, then turning to nuzzle into his neck, giving it some light kisses. He seemed content to be used any way Eliot desired this morning.
"What a good boy," Eliot murmured. He curled his fingers up again, but his goal had shifted and was now to get Quentin stretched so he could fuck him. "So so good for me."
Quentin sighed again and arched his back to push on those fingers a little. He bent his leg up to give Eliot more room to work, space to get him slick and easy and open. Quentin seemed pretty content with it, horny or otherwise.
Eliot worked him open with his fingers for a bit longer, kissing him wherever he could reach. Eventually he decided that Q was ready, and sweetly kissed his shoulder as he withdrew his fingers. "I'm going to fuck you now, baby," he murmured.
Quentin made a little sad noise when the fingers pulled out but nodded against Eliot's shoulder, waiting for it. His body was starting to take interest, though maybe not as much as it normally would by this time. He was just having a nice, chill time.
As far as Eliot was concerned, Quentin deserved a nice chill time, and he was more than happy to give it to him. he let his pinned hands go so that he could hold Q's hips as he pushed into him. "Fuck," he breathed. "God, fuck, you feel incredible."
"Daddy," Quentin sighed as Eliot pushed into him, kissing at his neck again, one freed hand coming up to the side of his neck, more just to touch him than for any kind of control or grab. Eliot pressed all along his back and he still wanted more contact.
The word made Eliot shiver, and he gripped Quentin's hips just to hold him tighter as he rolled into him. "Good boy," he said, a little breathless. "Fuck."
Now it was waking him the fuck up, cock hardening where it had dangled against his thigh, his breathing picking up as that hand on Eliot's neck started to clutch. "Daddy," he moaned again, still sleepy and fuzzy, but with a lot more urgency and pleasure now.
"God, fuck, you're a good boy, such a good boy for daddy." Eliot's thrusts were hard and fast now, breathing starting to pick up.
Quentin was less hype than Eliot, but he was panting and arching his back, starting to shake a little as he got pounded so well. "Don't stop," he whispered, free hand groping around for Eliot's because he needed something to hold onto if he wasn't going to touch himself, hard and needy now.
He was so hot. Eliot caught Quentin's hands, holding them, pinning them so he wouldn't touch himself, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as he moved inside of him.
"Daddy," he breathed again, holding Eliot's hands tight. They were gonna have to do something to get him off after, he couldn't come without touching and he was too horny to just let it fade now (and he definitely wasn't ready for denial), but for now it felt good to lay here and let Eliot fuck him, feel him getting himself off.
"You're a good little fucktoy," Eliot said breathlessly. He was impossibly turned on bythis, going to come far faster than he'd like, but it was just all so good. "Fuck, you feel so good."
Hmm, that was an idea to explore later, and not one Quentin was sure he liked, but it wasn't enough to really bother him in the moment. "Talk to me," he gasped out. "Tell me I'm, I'm..." Quentin didn't even know what he wanted to be, his still half-asleep brain trying to think through the haze.
"You feel so good," Eliot growled. "So tight and hot, fuck, baby boy. you're so good, you're gonna make me come, fuck, I'm so close." and he was, movements already erratic.
Quentin nodded desperately, clutching Eliot's hands tightly. "Come, come, please..." He was hard as hell and leaking, desperate for Eliot to finish so he could be touched.
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