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    Summary

    (This was supposed to be a one shot but it turned out the story demanded more chapters from me).

    Eliot bit his lip, studying the exposed curve of Quentin’s neck where it joined his shoulder, the skin smooth and inviting. Quentin’s hair fell loosely and sensuously back, caressing his shoulders. It was all Eliot could do to keep from ravaging the other’s neck and he had to remind himself that he was taking this slow. Anything too boisterous and he risked sending the other man fleeing to his room. This seduction would be more methodical, more teasing…

    ...Sensual- a word that until that day Quentin had only read about but never experienced; never really understood; had no frame of reference for. But then Eliot’s fingers had spelled it out for him, had traced it in his skin. Quentin knew then the meaning of that word. From then on that’s what sensual would be to him- Eliot’s hands caressing his body.

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