[ The man is...dancing. Dancing, and while Quentin isn't exactly a rumba king himself, that wibbly hip move makes him nervous in this small of a space. If there was anything valuable in here, he'd be worried about it breaking. As it stands, Finn just has a good chance of tripping or slipping on some wayward pile of books or clothes or miscellany.
[ His fingers wire around that hip from behind, dart under Finn's navel to clap him back to Quentin sharp and easy. Dank, hot smoke blows into his dreads from just behind his ear, Quentin's forearm squeezes around what little softness there is to Finn just around his belly. ]
In like a lion, out like a lamb, huh? How long're you staying, Mac? [ Not meanly! Just wondering as Quentin falls into sway with him. An adjustment so it's a little less accusatory: ] How long do you need?
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[ His fingers wire around that hip from behind, dart under Finn's navel to clap him back to Quentin sharp and easy. Dank, hot smoke blows into his dreads from just behind his ear, Quentin's forearm squeezes around what little softness there is to Finn just around his belly. ]
In like a lion, out like a lamb, huh? How long're you staying, Mac? [ Not meanly! Just wondering as Quentin falls into sway with him. An adjustment so it's a little less accusatory: ] How long do you need?