Eliot Waugh (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} mixologistking) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} westviewic,@ 2023-10-28 18:10:00 |
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| Entry tags: | !complete, !log, eliot waugh (mixologistking), quentin coldwater (cinnamonrollq) |
Eliot & Quentin
What → Eliot's Birthday
when → October 20th
where → Quentin's Apartment
warnings → Nah
Status → Complete
It was his birthday and he wasn't all that excited about it. Anyone who knew him knew that wasn't like him. Quentin had been asking him for weeks what he wanted to do to celebrate. At first there had been some spark, but as time went on he was less and less interested in any special celebration or really even celebrating it. Or anything really. But he wouldn't disappoint Q. He was making dinner and a cake for him. It was sweet and kind and given that he'd already disappointed him twice in the last few weeks, he didn't want to again if he could help it.
He bent over and drew the white powdered line into his nose. "Happy Birthday to me." He stood and went to look in the mirror. He looked alright or so he thought. He pulled on his jacket, grabbed his keys then left, making his way to Quentin's door where he knocked.
Quentin could see that he was struggling with everything, and he wanted to help but he didn’t know how. So he just kept doing what he could to make sure Eliot knew that he was there for him. Eventually, the man would talk to him, he hoped anyway. One of the ways he was trying was to make sure Eliot’s birthday was a good one. Or at least as good as it could be with just the two of them. He knew it would be better if Margo were there, but that wasn’t going to happen.
He had decided on something simple for dinner, mostly because he didn’t really cook all that often and he was working so he he wouldn’t have a lot of time once he got home to make both the cake and some kind of fancy meal so he’d opted for a simple meal of pasta with a doctored up store-bought sauce that he knew would take only a few minutes to make once the cake was done. Yes, he had made the cake himself, it wasn’t nearly as difficult as he thought it would be either.
The only problem was it was still on the cooling rack when he was expecting Eliot to show up. Oh well, it would have to work. He was still in the process of trying to get it frosted when he heard the door. “Come on in, it’s open!”
Eliot took a deep breath then opened the door and walked inside to see Quentin in the kitchen. "Hey," he said as he walked over. "I brought some wine." He sat it on the counter then looked around. This was only the second time he'd been inside Quentin's place and while it looked much like his own, it definitely had a few Quentin touches to it.
"Need help with anything?" He leaned against the counter, arms folded, his foot tapping lightly against the floor. He was trying not to think about anything too much. Particularly what his friend had shared with him. Eliot didn't know what to do with it. He'd never been good with feelings and emotions and this was Quentin. He knew he'd disappointed him. Probably even hurt him, but none of it was intentional.
Quentin smiled up at his friend. “Hey! Happy Birthday!” He put the spatula down and walked around to give Eliot a quick hug. “Did you have a good one so far?” He made a point to make sure the hug was not lingering and just friendly, though he wasn’t sure how well that would come across. He was honestly just doing his best to keep things as close to their normal as was possible given the situation. He stepped back and motioned to one of the drawers. “If you want you can open the wine. I think there’s a bottle opener in that drawer.” He knew he had one, but he wasn’t completely sure where he’d put it. It was in a drawer, that all he knew for certain. He got back to spreading the goopy frosting over the cake then eyed it critically once he had it covered. Eh. It was clearly not done by a professional, but it still looked good in his opinion. All that was missing was candles, which he carefully set in the center of the cake. He’d opted for the individual digits rather than trying to fit 25 candles on the cake.
While Eliot was getting the wine opened, Quentin pulled down glasses and plates then served up their food which he carried over to the table which he’d already set. “Hope you don’t mind pasta. I had to pick between going all out on the cake or the dinner…” He stepped back over to the counter and picked up the finished cake. “Clearly I made the wrong decision.” He laughed then carried the cake over to the table so it could serve as their centerpiece. He was rather proud of it. In one of the chairs at the table were two fairly large gift bags, one of them clearly being from the same place the corset vests had come from. One more holdover from whatever that magic was, but Quentin was grateful for it. He liked seeing Eliot happy.
"Thank you," Eliot replied, returning the hug. "Yeah, can't complain too much." It was just another day really. His co-workers did wish him a happy birthday and had coffee and a muffin for him. It was nice. Other than that it had been a typical day. He went to the drawer and found the opener then opened the wine.
He went to the table and filled their glasses then sat down. "You know I love pasta." He made a slight face when Quentin put down the food. "The pasta and the cake both smell and look delicious. Thank you for taking the time to make them." He'd made the cake himself and that meant a lot to Eliot. Most people didn't bother to make them from scratch anymore. He took a long drink of wine then picked up his fork. "How was your day?" He tasted the pasta. The sauce wasn't homemade, but had obviously been added to. "It's good," he said after his bite. He wanted to say more, but didn't.
That was not the same thing as having had a good day and it kind of worried Quentin. When he’d met Eliot the man had seemed to be so confident and outgoing. Since they had arrived he had become more and more withdrawn, especially after that weird magic this place had done to them. He wished he knew how to make it better for him. He was trying his best, but it didn’t seem like it was working very well. He tried to put that aside as he got their plates to the table, but he noticed the face Eliot made. How could he not? He kinda noticed almost everything about the man.
“That’s why I picked it.” He smiled and sat down then reached for his glass. He took a sip then set it down and watched Eliot taking the first bite. “It was good. Kinda long because I had this one kid who just kept asking the same question over and over, but he was saying it differently so it sounded like a different question. I don’t know if he was being a smart ass or if he was genuinely just not getting the concept.” He set up a tutoring session with the kid for the following week, hopefully he could find a way to get him to understand what he was trying to teach him. It was totally going to be on the test.
As they ate, Quentin talked a bit more about his day, life and just stuff. He was trying to find a subject that would get the man talking a bit more. He could clearly see that Eliot was in pain, but short of just asking about it outright, he wasn’t sure how to get him to open up. Once they had finished eating he took a moment to clear the plates away then brought out clean ones for the cake along with a knife to cut it. He did the tut to light the candles and smiled before he sang Happy Birthday to him. “Now make a wish!” He watched then handed the knife over so Eliot could cut as big of a piece as he wanted.
It was still kind of wild to think of Quentin as a teacher. Of course he could do it and be great at it, but he knew if they were back home neither of them would be holding down a job. Not with all the shit that was always going on. "That you listened and kept answering his question shows what a patient and good teacher you are." Far more patient than Eliot himself. He could never teach kids. It was oddly reassuring hearing Quentin talk about his day. It let him know there were 'normal' and good things going on in the world. Even if not in his own.
As they ate and talked Eliot could feel the drug having more effect on him. His foot tapped the floor beneath the table and he felt a bit anxious, restless. But he did his best to focus on his friend and the celebration. When Quentin brought the cake to the table he smiled. "I can't wait to try it." He was sincere and another bigger smile came over his face when the candles were lit and Quentin sang 'Happy Birthday' to him. "Thank you." Eliot thought for a moment then closed his eyes, made his wish and blew out the candles. Taking the knife he cut the cake, but the first slice went on Quentin's plate, then one for his own. He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. "Wow, this is really good, Q." He took another bite. "You'll have to start cooking for me more often," he teased lightly.
Quentin was worried that he’d messed up something with the cake, but when Eliot approved of it he beamed. “I’m so glad! I worried I missed a step or something. Or getting it frosted when it was still warm messed it up somehow.” Though he was sure that just made it better, or it would to him. He cut himself a slice and laughed. “I mean, I could, if you really wanted.” He turned and gave him a nose scrunching smile then ate his own slice of the cake. He was as always his own worst critic and he was already trying to figure out how to make it more moist. Maybe taking it out a minute or two sooner than he did would help. He’d have to try that next time. He made a mental note to keep track of this recipe for sure.
Once he’d finished with the cake he carried the plates back into the kitchen and moved over to grab the presents. He thanked whoever was in charge of the magical weirdness for leaving them where they’d been in his closet. “I told you I had presents for you already, and they were still in the closet when…” He let that sentence just trail off. No point rehashing all that. They both knew what he meant. He nodded toward the couch. “C’mon. There’s more room over here.” He paused long enough to do a quick clean up spell then carried the bags into the living room. He sat down and waited for Eliot to open them.
The first box came from the company that made those corset vests that looked SO very good on Eliot. Inside the box were two vests with the same shade of green as the primary color. The first one had silver embroidery on it and included the matching tie. The second was the same shade of green with black to accent the boning and lacing panel. The other bag held a single box with a suit that had clearly been custom made for Eliot, and would go very well with the two new vests, but could easily work with many of the vests that Eliot already owned. How that other magically enhanced version of Quentin could afford it was anyone’s guess, but there it was. “I hope you like the colors.” He knew Eliot didn’t often wear green, but it brought out his eyes and Quentin honestly loved to see him in it.
"You did good, Q." Once again Eliot wanted to say more, but held back. For a lot of reasons. As he ate the cake he topped off his wine. It was good and had he been home alone he'd probably be drinking straight from the bottle at this point.
"Ooh, presents." The mention of them had him smiling. The mention or rather mere mention of their time as a...couple made him glance down at the ring. Fuck He should have taken it off. Why was he even still wearing it? He didn't want to think about it, analyze or talk about it. Even he wasn't completely sure why. It was just there and staying there.
He moved to sit on the couch and took the first box to open. His mouth fell open. It was two more of the corset vests. "They're beautiful," he said, taking each one out to further look over. They were perfect. "Thank you, Q. I love them." Upon opening the second box he found a suit that was in a word, perfect for him. "It's like you know me or something," he grinned. "I can't wait to wear everything. He reached over and squeezed Quentin's hand. "Thank you for everything. This has been a good birthday." Eliot carefully put everything back in the box and set them aside. "What do you say to ending the night with a movie?"
Quentin loved seeing the look in Eliot’s eyes as he opened each box. He knew the man would love them, but there was as always that oh so annoying nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that things were about to end badly. But they didn’t and he just smiled. “I know right? Imagine that.” He laughed softly and squeezed back. “Good! That’s all I wanted for you.” To be happy, or as close to it as they could come in this place. Quentin was as content as he ever was in general, but he knew Eliot wasn’t. He was just glad that if only for the night, the man seemed to be if not happy, at least not sad.
He took the time to clear away any wrapping paper or ribbons that had accumulated in the opening of the gifts. “I think that sounds like a great idea. The TV has streaming on it.” He thought a moment then suggested Eliot look for a movie he knew to be one of the man’s favorites. “I’ll see if I still have a bag of popcorn to make us, yeah?”
The evening was turning out so much better than Eliot had anticipated. Quentin often had that effect on people, things. “That sounds good. Maybe some water too.” He bent down and took off his shoes then unbuttoned his vest. It was time to get more comfy. He searched through all the options and found the movie. Once Quentin rejoined him he started the movie and reached for the throw on the back of the couch to cover them. It was a perfect way to end the night.
He bent over and drew the white powdered line into his nose. "Happy Birthday to me." He stood and went to look in the mirror. He looked alright or so he thought. He pulled on his jacket, grabbed his keys then left, making his way to Quentin's door where he knocked.
Quentin could see that he was struggling with everything, and he wanted to help but he didn’t know how. So he just kept doing what he could to make sure Eliot knew that he was there for him. Eventually, the man would talk to him, he hoped anyway. One of the ways he was trying was to make sure Eliot’s birthday was a good one. Or at least as good as it could be with just the two of them. He knew it would be better if Margo were there, but that wasn’t going to happen.
He had decided on something simple for dinner, mostly because he didn’t really cook all that often and he was working so he he wouldn’t have a lot of time once he got home to make both the cake and some kind of fancy meal so he’d opted for a simple meal of pasta with a doctored up store-bought sauce that he knew would take only a few minutes to make once the cake was done. Yes, he had made the cake himself, it wasn’t nearly as difficult as he thought it would be either.
The only problem was it was still on the cooling rack when he was expecting Eliot to show up. Oh well, it would have to work. He was still in the process of trying to get it frosted when he heard the door. “Come on in, it’s open!”
Eliot took a deep breath then opened the door and walked inside to see Quentin in the kitchen. "Hey," he said as he walked over. "I brought some wine." He sat it on the counter then looked around. This was only the second time he'd been inside Quentin's place and while it looked much like his own, it definitely had a few Quentin touches to it.
"Need help with anything?" He leaned against the counter, arms folded, his foot tapping lightly against the floor. He was trying not to think about anything too much. Particularly what his friend had shared with him. Eliot didn't know what to do with it. He'd never been good with feelings and emotions and this was Quentin. He knew he'd disappointed him. Probably even hurt him, but none of it was intentional.
Quentin smiled up at his friend. “Hey! Happy Birthday!” He put the spatula down and walked around to give Eliot a quick hug. “Did you have a good one so far?” He made a point to make sure the hug was not lingering and just friendly, though he wasn’t sure how well that would come across. He was honestly just doing his best to keep things as close to their normal as was possible given the situation. He stepped back and motioned to one of the drawers. “If you want you can open the wine. I think there’s a bottle opener in that drawer.” He knew he had one, but he wasn’t completely sure where he’d put it. It was in a drawer, that all he knew for certain. He got back to spreading the goopy frosting over the cake then eyed it critically once he had it covered. Eh. It was clearly not done by a professional, but it still looked good in his opinion. All that was missing was candles, which he carefully set in the center of the cake. He’d opted for the individual digits rather than trying to fit 25 candles on the cake.
While Eliot was getting the wine opened, Quentin pulled down glasses and plates then served up their food which he carried over to the table which he’d already set. “Hope you don’t mind pasta. I had to pick between going all out on the cake or the dinner…” He stepped back over to the counter and picked up the finished cake. “Clearly I made the wrong decision.” He laughed then carried the cake over to the table so it could serve as their centerpiece. He was rather proud of it. In one of the chairs at the table were two fairly large gift bags, one of them clearly being from the same place the corset vests had come from. One more holdover from whatever that magic was, but Quentin was grateful for it. He liked seeing Eliot happy.
"Thank you," Eliot replied, returning the hug. "Yeah, can't complain too much." It was just another day really. His co-workers did wish him a happy birthday and had coffee and a muffin for him. It was nice. Other than that it had been a typical day. He went to the drawer and found the opener then opened the wine.
He went to the table and filled their glasses then sat down. "You know I love pasta." He made a slight face when Quentin put down the food. "The pasta and the cake both smell and look delicious. Thank you for taking the time to make them." He'd made the cake himself and that meant a lot to Eliot. Most people didn't bother to make them from scratch anymore. He took a long drink of wine then picked up his fork. "How was your day?" He tasted the pasta. The sauce wasn't homemade, but had obviously been added to. "It's good," he said after his bite. He wanted to say more, but didn't.
That was not the same thing as having had a good day and it kind of worried Quentin. When he’d met Eliot the man had seemed to be so confident and outgoing. Since they had arrived he had become more and more withdrawn, especially after that weird magic this place had done to them. He wished he knew how to make it better for him. He was trying his best, but it didn’t seem like it was working very well. He tried to put that aside as he got their plates to the table, but he noticed the face Eliot made. How could he not? He kinda noticed almost everything about the man.
“That’s why I picked it.” He smiled and sat down then reached for his glass. He took a sip then set it down and watched Eliot taking the first bite. “It was good. Kinda long because I had this one kid who just kept asking the same question over and over, but he was saying it differently so it sounded like a different question. I don’t know if he was being a smart ass or if he was genuinely just not getting the concept.” He set up a tutoring session with the kid for the following week, hopefully he could find a way to get him to understand what he was trying to teach him. It was totally going to be on the test.
As they ate, Quentin talked a bit more about his day, life and just stuff. He was trying to find a subject that would get the man talking a bit more. He could clearly see that Eliot was in pain, but short of just asking about it outright, he wasn’t sure how to get him to open up. Once they had finished eating he took a moment to clear the plates away then brought out clean ones for the cake along with a knife to cut it. He did the tut to light the candles and smiled before he sang Happy Birthday to him. “Now make a wish!” He watched then handed the knife over so Eliot could cut as big of a piece as he wanted.
It was still kind of wild to think of Quentin as a teacher. Of course he could do it and be great at it, but he knew if they were back home neither of them would be holding down a job. Not with all the shit that was always going on. "That you listened and kept answering his question shows what a patient and good teacher you are." Far more patient than Eliot himself. He could never teach kids. It was oddly reassuring hearing Quentin talk about his day. It let him know there were 'normal' and good things going on in the world. Even if not in his own.
As they ate and talked Eliot could feel the drug having more effect on him. His foot tapped the floor beneath the table and he felt a bit anxious, restless. But he did his best to focus on his friend and the celebration. When Quentin brought the cake to the table he smiled. "I can't wait to try it." He was sincere and another bigger smile came over his face when the candles were lit and Quentin sang 'Happy Birthday' to him. "Thank you." Eliot thought for a moment then closed his eyes, made his wish and blew out the candles. Taking the knife he cut the cake, but the first slice went on Quentin's plate, then one for his own. He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. "Wow, this is really good, Q." He took another bite. "You'll have to start cooking for me more often," he teased lightly.
Quentin was worried that he’d messed up something with the cake, but when Eliot approved of it he beamed. “I’m so glad! I worried I missed a step or something. Or getting it frosted when it was still warm messed it up somehow.” Though he was sure that just made it better, or it would to him. He cut himself a slice and laughed. “I mean, I could, if you really wanted.” He turned and gave him a nose scrunching smile then ate his own slice of the cake. He was as always his own worst critic and he was already trying to figure out how to make it more moist. Maybe taking it out a minute or two sooner than he did would help. He’d have to try that next time. He made a mental note to keep track of this recipe for sure.
Once he’d finished with the cake he carried the plates back into the kitchen and moved over to grab the presents. He thanked whoever was in charge of the magical weirdness for leaving them where they’d been in his closet. “I told you I had presents for you already, and they were still in the closet when…” He let that sentence just trail off. No point rehashing all that. They both knew what he meant. He nodded toward the couch. “C’mon. There’s more room over here.” He paused long enough to do a quick clean up spell then carried the bags into the living room. He sat down and waited for Eliot to open them.
The first box came from the company that made those corset vests that looked SO very good on Eliot. Inside the box were two vests with the same shade of green as the primary color. The first one had silver embroidery on it and included the matching tie. The second was the same shade of green with black to accent the boning and lacing panel. The other bag held a single box with a suit that had clearly been custom made for Eliot, and would go very well with the two new vests, but could easily work with many of the vests that Eliot already owned. How that other magically enhanced version of Quentin could afford it was anyone’s guess, but there it was. “I hope you like the colors.” He knew Eliot didn’t often wear green, but it brought out his eyes and Quentin honestly loved to see him in it.
"You did good, Q." Once again Eliot wanted to say more, but held back. For a lot of reasons. As he ate the cake he topped off his wine. It was good and had he been home alone he'd probably be drinking straight from the bottle at this point.
"Ooh, presents." The mention of them had him smiling. The mention or rather mere mention of their time as a...couple made him glance down at the ring. Fuck He should have taken it off. Why was he even still wearing it? He didn't want to think about it, analyze or talk about it. Even he wasn't completely sure why. It was just there and staying there.
He moved to sit on the couch and took the first box to open. His mouth fell open. It was two more of the corset vests. "They're beautiful," he said, taking each one out to further look over. They were perfect. "Thank you, Q. I love them." Upon opening the second box he found a suit that was in a word, perfect for him. "It's like you know me or something," he grinned. "I can't wait to wear everything. He reached over and squeezed Quentin's hand. "Thank you for everything. This has been a good birthday." Eliot carefully put everything back in the box and set them aside. "What do you say to ending the night with a movie?"
Quentin loved seeing the look in Eliot’s eyes as he opened each box. He knew the man would love them, but there was as always that oh so annoying nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that things were about to end badly. But they didn’t and he just smiled. “I know right? Imagine that.” He laughed softly and squeezed back. “Good! That’s all I wanted for you.” To be happy, or as close to it as they could come in this place. Quentin was as content as he ever was in general, but he knew Eliot wasn’t. He was just glad that if only for the night, the man seemed to be if not happy, at least not sad.
He took the time to clear away any wrapping paper or ribbons that had accumulated in the opening of the gifts. “I think that sounds like a great idea. The TV has streaming on it.” He thought a moment then suggested Eliot look for a movie he knew to be one of the man’s favorites. “I’ll see if I still have a bag of popcorn to make us, yeah?”
The evening was turning out so much better than Eliot had anticipated. Quentin often had that effect on people, things. “That sounds good. Maybe some water too.” He bent down and took off his shoes then unbuttoned his vest. It was time to get more comfy. He searched through all the options and found the movie. Once Quentin rejoined him he started the movie and reached for the throw on the back of the couch to cover them. It was a perfect way to end the night.