[Koby leans back, swallows, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to savor the taste. It's summery, sunwarmed, the kind of fruit that grows far from the sea, but it's layered with the salt of Quentin's skin, and Koby thinks -- well. He thinks about the taste of Quentin elsewhere, other ways, about what else he could put his mouth on, swallowing again, the tips of his ears pinking.
But then he sits back, watches the curve of Quentin's smile, a subtly different one, this one soft and a little -- shy, almost. Koby feels like he could spend a long, long time learning the different ways Quentin's handsome face breaks into a grin, all the slight variations, could spend hours just gazing at him. This one, though -- this is one of his favorites.]
Of course. I brought it for you. [Chipper, like it goes without saying, like slipping the jar in his pocket hadn't been an impulse sparked by wondering about that exact look on Quentin's face, wondering if he could inspire it again and again.] They have plenty, anyway.
[The bread is accepted, nibbled at thoughtfully. Koby's appetite is tricky on a good day, stomach usually knotted or distracted, but he nods in agreement, settling back with his shoulder pressed to Quentin's.] Not better necessarily, but. It's good.
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But then he sits back, watches the curve of Quentin's smile, a subtly different one, this one soft and a little -- shy, almost. Koby feels like he could spend a long, long time learning the different ways Quentin's handsome face breaks into a grin, all the slight variations, could spend hours just gazing at him. This one, though -- this is one of his favorites.]
Of course. I brought it for you. [Chipper, like it goes without saying, like slipping the jar in his pocket hadn't been an impulse sparked by wondering about that exact look on Quentin's face, wondering if he could inspire it again and again.] They have plenty, anyway.
[The bread is accepted, nibbled at thoughtfully. Koby's appetite is tricky on a good day, stomach usually knotted or distracted, but he nods in agreement, settling back with his shoulder pressed to Quentin's.] Not better necessarily, but. It's good.