[ quentin looks up at koby, stretched out beside him, looking at every line of his face, the soft lashes, the big eyes, the soft pink hair with the glasses ruffling and tousling it. he can't help but wonder if they'll ever be on the same sea - if they could sit like this in the bed of a rocking ship on easy waters. ]
Do you think I'll turn down good company? Stay.
[ he grins, as though he means something else by company, but it's all play. at least in this moment. he shifts a little closer on the bed, letting one leg tangle up with koby's. he's on his back, one hand in koby's that he's dragged to his chest, the other up under the back of his own head. ]
I would be a monster to send you back to your rooms four doors down. [ he's tired, too, even behind the smiles and bravado. there's a moment of stillness that comes over him then, quentin's eyes studying koby but also somehow far, far away. he wants to commit this man to memory, of course. but koby shared with him earlier - his commander. his escape. lying here beside him like this, it feels disingenuous to not offer something in return.
he might not wear his heart on his sleeve like koby, but he's not a complete asshole. ]
My father captained the ship I grew up on. He took me in when my born father died at sea and my mother was unable to handle the grief, I suppose. I never really asked about her. I was three years old and it's history from there. He died, two years ago, but him and your Commander sound quite a bit alike.
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Do you think I'll turn down good company? Stay.
[ he grins, as though he means something else by company, but it's all play. at least in this moment. he shifts a little closer on the bed, letting one leg tangle up with koby's. he's on his back, one hand in koby's that he's dragged to his chest, the other up under the back of his own head. ]
I would be a monster to send you back to your rooms four doors down. [ he's tired, too, even behind the smiles and bravado. there's a moment of stillness that comes over him then, quentin's eyes studying koby but also somehow far, far away. he wants to commit this man to memory, of course. but koby shared with him earlier - his commander. his escape. lying here beside him like this, it feels disingenuous to not offer something in return.
he might not wear his heart on his sleeve like koby, but he's not a complete asshole. ]
My father captained the ship I grew up on. He took me in when my born father died at sea and my mother was unable to handle the grief, I suppose. I never really asked about her. I was three years old and it's history from there. He died, two years ago, but him and your Commander sound quite a bit alike.