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ǫ | quentin toma ([personal profile] longitudinal) wrote2025-06-01 10:21 am

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kobes: ([fb] taste the flesh)

[personal profile] kobes 2025-06-20 04:37 am (UTC)(link)
– yeah, maybe.

[it’s absurd. he’s here for a reason, he has a job to do, he has expectations riding on him from back in sydney. 500k by the end of the month, or he’s stuck back under alvida’s thumb indefinitely, earning the money she’s owed for raising him before he can even think of doing anything else. koby absolutely shouldn’t be wasting any time learning how to swim, of all things.

but – here he is, soaked and smelling of expensive british soap and looking up at a complete stranger and agreeing to let him teach swimming lessons. because he’s never learned. because he can, maybe. because instead of immediately trying to cop a feel like he’d expected, quentin was just smiling at him in a warm, pleasant, irresistible way.

the question has koby shrugging, leaning to grab some conditioner – might as well – and pouring some into his hands.
] I go to all the parties. Figure that’s kinda the whole point of being here, right? Turn around, lemme get this sitting, you gotta let it stay for the full sixty seconds or it doesn’t work.
kobes: ([fb] don't even try)

[personal profile] kobes 2025-06-21 04:32 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah? My first time here too.

[he’s heard about it, of course – knows a good amount of the people here, either personally or by reputation. quentin’s been off koby’s radar, though, since olympians tend to be a little too clean-cut and image-focused to be susceptible to shady business ventures. that and the complete lack of anticipated handsy behavior has koby caught off guard. softened, somehow.

a swallow, an exhale, then he rubs his hands together as quentin turns around, bends back, the line of his spine going tight, arched. koby drags his eyes upwards with a stuttering inhale, before starting to work the conditioner through the heavy, silky curls tumbling down quentin’s back.
]

Conditioner is like basic shit, dude. [the accent thickens, drawls now, another guard let down.] It’s one level above soap. I’m not making you use gel or mousse or any shit like that.

[koby blinks a couple times, running his fingers slowly through quentin’s hair, coating every inch with the silky, sweet-smelling conditioner.] Yeah? There are some cool spots, for sure. The casino they set up down in Otherworld kicks ass, and people are always throwing parties on the roof or in the garden or whatever. Kinda the Balfours’s whole thing.
kobes: ([fb] the feelings deep inside of me)

[personal profile] kobes 2025-06-23 04:02 am (UTC)(link)
Oh. [it’s soft, a response both to the words and to the gentle, almost soothing hand pressed to his side. koby’s eyes skip down for a moment, twining quentin’s dark curls around his fingers, and he lets out a soft huffing exhale.] Right. Yeah. Uh – well, it’s. In there. Soaking.

[a cleared throat and koby’s turning around quickly, nearly slipping, setting a hand against the tiled wall to support himself.] Y-Yeah, it’s – yeah. Riot. All kinds of money, yeah. Not that it’s much use here – I think any of the casino wins are set aside til we go home. Don’t really need money when room and board’s paid for.

[back to quentin, koby finds himself half-anticipating the press of those long, clever fingers into his hair, remembering the odd calm it had prompted before. he tells himself it’s because the almost-massage had helped with his headache. nothing else.]

I’ll show you the cool ones. The parties. You looking for, what – sponsorship deals? Is that how it works?
kobes: ([fb] my way of unleashing)

[personal profile] kobes 2025-06-29 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
[quentin gives them away, the touches of his broad, warm hands, like it’s easy. like he’s not second-guessing every glancing bit of contact, paring out himself in neat, bite-sized portions. koby can’t even conceptualize it, that sort of open, easy warmth.

but he relaxes into it, bows his head at the return of the strong, warm, lingering touch down the back of his neck, through his hair. like welcoming something familiar home, a thought that flickers in his mind like a ghost of something s̴̜͔͔͆̌́o̸̝̭̓m̵̢̉͜ě̴̝ṫ̵͓͖h̸̢͔̐͜ḭ̵̤̲͑n̶̹̮̿̀̚g̶̹͚̈́̇
]

Ahhh, you’re burdened with the good old-fashioned need to have a damn good time, huh? [koby grins over his shoulder, turning with his outgrown hair – pink at the tips, blond at the roots – flopped into his face, his cheeks rounded on that smile that reaches his eyes as they catch quentin’s.] I can help you with that.

[a soft chuckle, a relax into the working massage of those hands, knots of tension melting like ice, the water endless and plentiful and so, so warm.] Stick with me, Q-baby, I’ll take good care of you.