kobes | inbox for saltburnt

Then you should make your former lovers walk a plank into the sea.
It is an experience best shared equally, in whatever way that looks like.

Maybe it looks like two navigators both charting the unknown, with a spinning compass and strange lands on the horizon. I think it best they both try and sail for something nice.

And whether or not this house has decided to move my rooms, yes. Four doors down. Why do you ask?

I don't have any of those. I mean Besides the ones here, and they've all been very nice, so I wouldn't want to penalize any of them for my personal inexperience.

[Meaning -- yes, he was a virgin when arriving at Saltburnt. Somehow.]

How very treacherous. You're putting a lot of faith in my navigational skills, sight unseen. At least I have some of your work for reference, now. I just like knowing where you are. In case you need anything or in case you'd ever want me to visit. I like checking in on people. Is that okay?

[ there's something to be explored about the fact that koby is only beginning to experience the many of firsts here. something that makes quentin's stomach roil with heat. ]

I've seen the maps on your walls - your maps are elegant and precise. Do not undersell yourself.

But if you want to map out where I am and visit my shores then by all means - who am I to stop a handsome man from passing through my threshold. The company is nice - I'm unused to being on land for so long.

You noticed? When? [Koby hardly remembered that he had walls, in the midst of the decadent heat of the other night. Then again, Quentin had woken up first -- maybe he'd examined the maps then?] Thank you. This place gives me lots of practice. Me too. It has it's perks, though. I like the library. And the company, of course. Can I bring you anything?

You're a heavy sleeper, and I had to find my clothes. I got distracted on the journey.

[ he's nosy ]

You could bring anything you wish and my door would still be open to you. That's the fun in it, isn't it?

I'm not, usually. Normally I sleep very badly.

[But instead -- curled up like a kitten in Quentin's arms, dead to the world for hours and hours.]

The possibilities are limitless, yes, but I was more asking if you'd had breakfast. I'll start thinking bigger after you've eaten.

Well then, glad I could be of assistance.

[ oh yes, he's acknowledging that he likely fucked koby into a good night's rest. ]

I haven't. I'm currently enjoying the exquisite company of this fine bed and myself. But if you insist I have to play at breakfast before I play at having you for breakfast, then who am I to deny you, Commander?

I'm not going to deny that you helped, considerably. And didn't even hog the covers afterwards. So...thank you. I'm glad you understand the proper order of things. Any particular requests? For breakfast. The food kind.

Something sweet. Pink. Soft. Maybe a little crunch, a little bite.

Is that helpful?

I'm not sure if there's any grapefruit left, but I can check. Are you worried about scurvy, perhaps?

[Brat.]

Please do. I'm sure it will be ripe, the juice will drip down my chin and the taste will linger on my tongue all morning. I might have to have a second.

But no scurvy - are you? I would eat more grapefruit on your behalf.

[Pause because Koby's very nearly dropping the precariously balanced breakfast plates at that message.]

Toast. You get toast.

They cut their toast into triangles here. Slather them in butter, jam. I particularly enjoy strawberry jam.

What are you having?

Do you not like triangles? I'll bring the whole jar. Coffee, I think. I don't get hungry that often.

I enjoy them very much. Sticky sweet, jam overflowing. Sometimes going back for seconds, licking it off my fingers.

Bring something you enjoy. I’m sure you’ll be hungry and regret it.

Incorrigible. Don't get jam on the sheets, they'll be sticky for ages. I brought one of everything, in case. Open the door?

[And then: kicking at the door. Four down, like Quentin had said.]

[ the kick at the door makes him snort and he rolls out of bed, moves to open it. he's pleased to see koby even if he's balancing plates. quentin himself is only in a pair of low slung, black harem pants, nothing more. his room is tidy enough save for his bed, and there are a few things on the bedside table - paper, pens, a daisy from the garden.

there's a book of world maps and something that looks more like fiction on one side of his bed. ]

Want help with that? Or are you worried I'll get jam everywhere?

[ a grin, and he's reaching for a plate anyway. ]

[It's a good thing Quentin reaches to help with the plates because Koby is just -- staring. That intent, wide-eyed, absolutely enthralled look he'd gotten in the tub, in his bed, when Quentin's everything arrests him in place and all he can do is gaze in admiration. He very nearly forgets he's holding anything, zeroed in on the marks scattered over the other man's neck, his shoulders, the vee of his hips and the contour of his stomach.

Then, blinking, eloquently:] Huh?

[ koby stares and quentin can't help but notice. it's endearing really, the way the other man basically drinks in the sight of him. quentin, amused, takes both plates instead of just the one and backs into the room, taking the plates over to the bed that's left unmade.

it looks like he just woke up - hair unkempt, a little tangled. ]

Are you joining me for breakfast or would you rather have it in the doorway?

[ a grin. ]

-- oh. [Koby clears his throat, coming back to himself, face immediately flushing red. He's got his glasses up on top of his head again, keeping the hair back, and some truly spectacular rainbow-striped shirt and -- overalls. He's wearing overalls. Absurd.

He reaches to push up the glasses that aren't there, bumps himself in the face instead and trails along with the two mugs the plates had been balanced on.]

Sorry. You're just -- [A pause, a cleared throat.] You look nice.

[ koby's brightly colored to his near stark utilitarianism, wearing what shows up in his closet without thinking much on it. he watches koby in the doorway and huffs a little, shaking his head and climbing up onto the bed. ]

Pass me one of those.

[ he holds his hand out, lax and still a little tired from sleeping so much over the last two days, body needing time to heal. ]

And you look nice - whatever these are - [ and if koby comes close enough, he'll hook a finger into his overall strap, giving him a gentle tug forward. ] Are interesting.

[To be fair, this is exactly what shows up in Koby's closet -- and while he resists it sometimes, pulling on the sort of loose, ill-fitting things he'd lived in for years, occasionally he gives into the urge to wear something brighter. The overalls make him think of his uniform, long since sacrificed to this place, though the multicolored stripes clash horribly with his hair.

Quentin doesn't seem to mind, though. Koby passes over one of the cups of coffee, then holds the other out of the way when he's tugged forward by one strap of the overalls. It makes him laugh, shuffling closer on socked feet.]

Overalls. They're pretty comfortable. My closet keeps filling up with them. [And they have deep pockets too -- ones that Koby pauses to pull handfuls of sugar and cream packets out of.] I'm not used to wearing so much color.

[ quentin would bottle the sound of that little laugh if he could, smiling up at him in a way that his cheeks almost dimple. he takes the mug, sips at the scalding liquid and hums, pleased at the heat of it. he sets it on the bedside table, blinking at the handfuls of sugars and creams. ]

I've seen people putting this in their coffee. How do you take yours?

[ he sits at the edge of the bed, reaching to take koby's mug if only so he can nudge him with a thigh to sit down. ]

The color is nice. But overalls. I'll have to ask for those. Useful.

[ nevermind he gives a tug with his free hand yet again, this time reaching for one of the deep, back pockets, to goose him just slightly. he's impatient today. ]

Eat with me. Tell me about your coffee.

Black, actually. I'm not used to--

[Koby breaks off in a little squeaking gasp at the grip through the back pocket, stumbling forward, fortunately after Quentin's already taken the coffee.] Hey! That -- tickles, stop that!

[A huff, a light swat at Quentin's upper arm -- boyish, playful, the way he'd smack at Helmeppo or another cadet -- and Koby obligingly climbs onto the bed, scooting the sugar packets out of the way.] I'm not used to anything but the coffee. All the cream and sugar and things were for the captain, when I was at sea.

[It comes out -- mostly smooth, only a slight hitch in Koby's shoulders as he settles cross-legged.] But I've been trying a little bit of each, since being here.

[ quentin laughs a the way he's swatted, smacked, moving a little to make more room for koby, and to get a little closer to him. it's a travesty he's not in his lap, but he doesn't push, warmed actually by the lightness of his company.

he's not been sleeping well. he stretches out, enough for their knees to touch, stay in contact. he passes koby's mug to him once he's settled, reaching to inspect the sugar and the cream packets. how convenient. ]

And how did your captain take his coffee? [ there's a little raise of his brow before he opens a packet of sugar for himself and dumps it into his coffee, then a little cream packet. ]

We would put whiskey in our coffee on cold mornings.

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