It honestly didn’t seem to matter how long it had been since Eliot had looked at him in a particular way Quentin still felt his breath catch in response including leaning into the touch to his face. He hadn’t realised how starved he’d been for something as simple as a touch to his face until it was happening.
Unconsciously he caught and drew his lower lip into his mouth while his hand lifted to catch on and curl around Eliot’s wrist, thumb pressed firmly against the other magician’s pulse where again he could feel the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat.
The atmosphere felt heavy, filled with possibility and promise. Terrifying but exciting all at the same time and Quentin wanted to say everything but all that came out was Eliot’s name, grip slipping up his arm to curl around the back of his neck.
Touching for touching sake, reassuring himself that Eliot was here and with him.