Eliot walked down the apartment halls, humming to himself. He surprised Quentin for a dinner date. The Trials were beginning for the first years, and Eliot wanted to get away from the freshman stress and nudity. Eliot, knocking on the door, bounced on his feet, waiting.
Quentin opened the door, shirtless. Eliot glanced down at Quentin’s torso, unable to take his eyes off the varies hedge-witch tattoos. Quentin and Eliot hadn’t slept together yet (since the party), both were waiting until the right moment. Eliot couldn’t deny his attraction towards the tattoos. He knew he liked men with ink, but the idea of earning tattoos is an entirely different game.
“Like what you see?” Quentin smirked, “But why do you grace me with your presence?”
“First years have their trials, and I wanted to get away from it all. People are always naked and stressed during this time.”
Quentin laughed, “Do I even want to know?”
Eliot walked into the apartment, “No, not really. It’s a perk of you not being there, you know. You don’t have to worry about it. Plus, you’d have to get tied up and naked with someone, and you have to reveal your secrets to them.”
Quentin followed, “Who said I didn’t like to get tied up?”
Eliot swallowed, “Into that kind of stuff, Q?”
Quentin smirked, kissing Eliot’s cheek, “I’m into a lot of stuff, babe.”
Eliot kissed Quentin deeply, “Remind me why we are waiting again?”
“It was your idea,” Quentin smiled, kissing Eliot, “But why are you here?”
“I was thinking about taking you to a movie and dinner? Then come here to spend the night?”
Quentin smiled, brushing Eliot’s hair behind his ear. Sometimes, Eliot felt overwhelmed by the amount of love Quentin showed. They hadn’t said the three words yet, and Eliot didn’t feel ready to say them. He knew Quentin loved him, and he knew Quentin eventually would tell them. Hopefully, when the time came, Eliot didn’t choke under the pressure of being in a loving, serious relationship.
. . .
Quentin and Eliot walked together swinging their hands beside them. Eliot smiled at Quentin, enjoying their time together. He had finally told Margo about his relationship with Quentin, and the stress of lying lifted off his shoulder.
At first, she was angry at him for lying. But after Josh’s death, Margo decided to hold onto anger was toxic and unhealthy, “How’s Julia?” Eliot asked, “I know she’s been staying with you because she’s recovering about Josh’s death.”
“Good,” Quentin nodded, “I think. She is mourning, you know, but I think she will be okay. It’s just hard.”
Eliot sighed, “I know. She had to witness it too, which fucks it up even more.”
“I can’t believe the thing broke through Brakebills. Is there any idea what happened?”
“From what I heard? It was summoned. Margo was whispering to Alice about something, and I think they did something to mess up the universe.”
Quentin looked at Eliot, confused, “What do you mean?”
Eliot sighed, running a free hand through his hair, “Alice’s brother died at Brakebills a couple of years ago, and I think she needed closure. I overheard her talking to Margo about wanting to summon her brother and talk to him. I think they summoned the wrong being.”
Quentin stared at Eliot, shocked. Eliot avoided his gaze, trying to avoid the judgment. He knew how it sounded. The hedge witch community gets a horrible reputation while Brakebills summons the evil being, “I know how it sounds.”
“I don’t get it. Other than you and Julia, people are Brakebills act like hedge witches are dirty and whores, but it seems more people get hurt at Brakebills.”
“I know, baby. It’s unfair and wrong, and I truly hate that people are that narrow-minded about it.”
Quentin shrugged, “Kady and Penny are cool, though, and I want to meet Margo someday properly.”
Eliot kissed Quentin’s hand, “Okay, promise you will meet her.”
. . .
Quentin and Eliot walked back to the apartment, nudging each other’s shoulders. Quentin looked up at Eliot, smiling. Eliot grinned down at him, brushing the stray hairs out of Quentin’s face, “Hey.”
“Hi,” Quentin smiled, kissing Eliot, lightly, “do you want to stay the night?”
Eliot cupped Quentin’s cheek, kissing him deeply, “Yes, I’d like that a lot.”
“Do you want to…do more than sleep?”
Eliot grinned, opening the door and leading Quentin inside, “Would you show me your tattoos?”
Quentin smirked, “So you think the tats are hot?”
Eliot began unbuttoning Quentin’s shirt, pushing it down his shoulders and arms, “I didn’t realize how much of a turn on hedge witch tattoos are until now,” Eliot hummed, kissing Quentin’s neck.
“What makes them…” Quentin groaned, “exciting.”
Eliot trailed kisses against the tattoos, “You earned them. You worked for them, and you’ve come so far. You know more things than I do and you’ve been at this for three months.”
“You’re a good magician, El.”
Eliot kissed Quentin, eagerly, “So are you, now let’s go to the bedroom before Julia gets home.”
Quentin laughed, leading the way, often pausing to kiss Eliot. As Eliot followed, he undid his tie and unbuttoned his top. He made the decision he wanted to kiss and suck every tattoo scattered around Quentin’s skin.
. . .
Eliot held Quentin after their time together. Eliot discovered that Quentin had a very submissive nature during sex. He responded positively to taking direction and orders from Eliot, and Eliot prided himself with giving the direction and orders.
However, Quentin floated often, Eliot found. After sex, Quentin stayed in his mind, needing the comfort and care of Eliot, and Eliot knew he needed to be there for Quentin. So, Quentin lay his head on Eliot’s chest, with Eliot’s arms around him. Eliot traced the tattoos on Quentin’s arm and shoulder, humming.
“My apartment is always open,” Quentin said, breaking the silence, “I know you are technically supposed to live on campus. But if you ever need to get away or you feel unsafe, the door is always opened.”
“Thank you, Q; I will remember that.”
“And you don’t have to say anything. I know feelings scare you, but I want you to know I love you. You don’t need to say it back or anything though. Being here is good enough.”
Eliot smiled, kissing the top of Quentin’s head. Still, though, he didn’t reply. However, Quentin knew how Eliot felt, and he knew Eliot loved him. Sometimes, words were just words, and actions spoke louder.