[ in any other circumstance, peter would readily follow quentin's pull. he'd lift himself off the floor and crawl in beside him, shoving everything else by the wayside for as long as he could.
but he resists while casting his gaze down, returning the squeeze— then release. ] Go on.
[ he figures quentin's all talked out, and maybe he is too. one thing he knows for certain, sleep is the furthest thing from his mind... but maybe something to smoke might help. ]
[ He can't imagine sleeping, not after this. But he absolutely cannot imagine being alone, either. Peter lets him go, and Quentin's stomach drops like a rock, face paling. ] ...Come on. Don't--
[ It's okay. It's okay, he meant to get up to start anyway. Quentin turns and goes for the other edge of the bed, where his clothes are piled clumsily on the floor. ] Let's watch TV or something. I can make coffee. Or something to eat maybe? Don't--leave me. We don't have to talk, just don't leave me alone.
[ jesus, there's something so final about the way quentin says it in his frantic intonation. it guts him, and overwhelms him with a need to reassure. ] I'm not— [ peter shakes his head, and plucks a pair of sweatpants off the floor as he follows quentin to the other side of the bed. ] I won't.
[ peter doesn't mind the company, probably prefers it anyway. ]
I could probably use some coffee, [ he finally adds as he slips into the loose-fit pants, then holds out a hand to lead them both out into the open-concept living space. the bedroom lets out next to the living room and dining space with it's too large windows, and across the room is the kitchen with an island. all in all, it's easy enough for quentin to keep peter in his sights. ]
let's call it a wrap on this thread...........we can talk next steps B)
[ Coffee is a formality as far as Quentin's brain chemistry goes; he's beyond caffeine most days. But the idea of a hot mug and walking rounds around Peter's floor until his nerves cool off already soothes him a little. His hand winds insistently together with Peter's. They don't have to talk. Not yet, but they can't go much longer without it.
[ Nightmare man. EVO meetings. Gwen. Why did you open the door? Quentin skips a step to catch up to Peter from behind, slink an arm around his waist and squeeze. Quentin kisses the back of his head where his hair whorls together.
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but he resists while casting his gaze down, returning the squeeze— then release. ] Go on.
[ he figures quentin's all talked out, and maybe he is too. one thing he knows for certain, sleep is the furthest thing from his mind... but maybe something to smoke might help. ]
no subject
[ It's okay. It's okay, he meant to get up to start anyway. Quentin turns and goes for the other edge of the bed, where his clothes are piled clumsily on the floor. ] Let's watch TV or something. I can make coffee. Or something to eat maybe? Don't--leave me. We don't have to talk, just don't leave me alone.
no subject
[ peter doesn't mind the company, probably prefers it anyway. ]
I could probably use some coffee, [ he finally adds as he slips into the loose-fit pants, then holds out a hand to lead them both out into the open-concept living space. the bedroom lets out next to the living room and dining space with it's too large windows, and across the room is the kitchen with an island. all in all, it's easy enough for quentin to keep peter in his sights. ]
let's call it a wrap on this thread...........we can talk next steps B)
[ Nightmare man. EVO meetings. Gwen. Why did you open the door? Quentin skips a step to catch up to Peter from behind, slink an arm around his waist and squeeze. Quentin kisses the back of his head where his hair whorls together.
[ They don't have to talk. Not yet. ]