#predictableisnotbad

They’d been having a drink together, something they’d done a couple of times since Quentin left. It had seemed like they had just gotten him back, and then duty had called. A world needed saving in ways only Quentin and Julia could manage, evidently. Sometimes Alice and Eliot didn’t talk about Quentin, even, but they were together, worried and afraid. They dealt with that fear the only way they both knew how – by getting smashed.

“I don’t know,” Eliot said.

Eliot sat down on the other end of the bed and ran his hands through his hair tiredly. “I can’t get him out of my head,” he said in a small voice. “These dreams I have, Alice. I kept waking Margo up … She kept telling me I needed to let it go, but.”

Alice turned to look at him. “Wait, are you telling me that’s why you two split up? Why Margo went back to Fillory without you?” A note of righteous anger rose in her voice. “Margo couldn’t deal with you worrying, over your friend?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Eliot said. “Margo, she – she knows what Quentin means to me. I mean – she knows that I … That he wasn’t just a friend to me.”

“You mean, she knows you are in love with him,” Alice said.

Eliot scrubbed his hands over his face. Alice was the only one he’d ever told, on purpose, anyway. Margo knew, but that was just because she was observant, and Eliot’s feelings for Q were not exactly subtle. But Q had been with Alice after he returned... after Penny had found him broken in the mirror realm. After he had healed at Brakebills.

“Was,” Eliot corrected. “Was in love with him. He’s yours, Alice.”

Alice shook her head. They’d been over this many times before. “I wouldn’t... It’s more complicated than that, Eliot,” she said.

Eliot scooted closer to her on the bed, put his hand on her shoulder. “Look, I want to believe we could work out, too,” he said, voice cracking. “That’s the thing, though. I want it so bad that I know it isn’t true.”

“That’s not how truth works,” Alice said, laughing a little at the absurdity of it. “At least not all the time.”

Eliot smiled at her, wiping his face, which he suddenly found was a little wet. “Jesus, Alice – if I could tell him.” He had both of her shoulders now, facing her.

She stroked his arms and looked him in the eyes. “What? What would you say to him if you could? If you weren’t so worried about what I mean to him?”

“That – that I love him. I – God. I’d tell him everything. That I have loved him and wanted him for years. Not like friends. Wanted … You know. All the things I’ve told you about, another chance at a beautiful life.” He paused to sniffle. “That I don’t care what kind of bullshit he gets up to, he can crawl home to my bed whenever he wants, whenever… I’m his, forever, until he gets sick of me, or dies. Again.”

He was sobbing by the end of it, and Alice wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back while he breathed messily against her neck.

“I know, I know,” Alice murmured to him. “You know I love him, too.”

They looked at each other, and the air between them was heavy with the memories of the times they’d drowned their Quentin-related sorrows in each other. Each time it had been a dubious idea, and no less this time, but sobriety was far away, and to Eliot, it felt like a natural thing to do at this point. It couldn’t make them feel any worse, right? Alice slid her hand around the back of Eliot’s neck, getting her fingers up in his newly shorter hair. She touched her forehead to his, and both of them closed their eyes as they angled their mouths together. It wasn’t exactly romantic... mostly just two people longing for something only they had shared.

Their lips had just touched when there was a noise. Alice jumped. Eliot’s breath caught in his throat.

“Probably just feral cats fighting,” Alice dismissed with a nervous laugh. She tried to draw Eliot’s face back to hers.

“No, Alice, wait,” Eliot said. They went still, listening.

They heard the distinct sound of the lock to the apartment clicking, of the door getting dragged open. Something big and loud, much bigger than a feral cat, was thumping its way inside. Anyway, cats couldn’t unlatch apartment doors.

“Alice!” Eliot hissed at her as she readied her fingers for battle magic, but she waved him silent with one hand. Eliot needed to roll over the bed, get over there, grab her and tackle her to the ground - she was putting herself in danger - but somehow he sat frozen and just watched with horror as Alice put one foot in front of the other.

Then he saw Alice stop and lower her hands. “I knew it!” she cried, voice breaking. “I fucking knew it!”

Eliot was immediately at her side then. His heart hammered in his chest. A wet, hurt, bedraggled man was in the doorway. What was once a nice hoodie ruined, a puddle of water around him from the rain that had started outside.

“Eliot!” Alice said, sharp. “Get over here!” She started crying openly then and Q wrapped his arms around her. Eliot rushed to them taking Quentin’s face in his hands even as Alice refused to relinquish her hold. 

“Q, Q, Q, Quentin,” he whispered, gathering Quentin’s body to his chest. “You’re back. You’re back.”

“Hey, El,” Quentin croaked, gripping onto Eliot’s back with something like desperation.

“Eliot, he’s hurt!” Alice cried noticing the way he held his bad arm. 

“I’m … fine,” said Q, and stretched out one hand tentatively toward her, the other still gripping Eliot. Alice looked at the proffered hand and sighed.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she said bitterly. Then, she took hold of his hand. He pulled her into their wet, messy, group hug, and Alice let go of the tears stinging at her eyes.  Eliot was too overcome to be irritated at her for scolding Quentin, or even to be curious about Quentin’s condition, as some rational corner of his brain knew he should be.

A bone-deep shudder went through Quentin’s body, and Eliot realized how cold he was to the touch. Not a corpse, but not warm enough to be healthy for a living person. Alice seemed to realize it at the same time. “Let’s get you into the shower,” she said, starting to help Q into the apartment, into the bedroom she and El had been occupying. Eliot pulled himself together enough to get Q’s other arm up over his shoulders.

Alice was fully prepared to drag him, but Quentin managed something approaching a walk. He posed no trouble getting to the bathroom, didn’t protest as they sat him on the toilet and stripped off his clothes. Eliot busied himself getting the hot water running to not have to participate in the pants part. Alice clearly couldn’t be bothered to care.

She struggled getting him into the shower, though, and ended up half in it herself, fully dressed, getting soaked as the water pelted Quentin’s skin. Eliot was torn between helping and wanting to run the fuck out of the room. But he was a grown-up, damn it. Sighing, preparing to have to get wet, he threw off his already-loosened tie and started unbuttoning his shirt (his suitcoat, he realized, he’d already abandoned elsewhere in the apartment, an eon of hours ago which was probably actually ten minutes).

But that’s when Q, naked, wet Q, took Alice’s face between his hands and kissed her on the mouth.

Alice froze. And then rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Quentin, for fuck’s sake-”

“I, I should go,” Eliot stammered, shirt half-off, turning to leave the room.

“El.” Quentin’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “I - I heard you.”

Eliot slowly turned around. “You heard what, Q?”

Quentin’s face angled a little in Eliot direction. “What you would say to me. If I came back in one piece.” Alice gently removed Q’s hands from her face, but Q kept one of her hands in his. He rubbed over the back of her hand with his thumb.

A shock of embarrassment and panic went through Eliot, but it faded fast – what did it matter? He sighed heavily. “Yeah. Okay. Like you didn’t already know all my secrets, anyway. Listen, if you and Alice have catching up to do, I’m gonna leave.”

Q was shaking his head frantically. He never dropped Alice’s hand, and she was starting to look a little puzzled. “Eliot. I never knew. Never like you think I knew, not after we came back... not...”

Eliot was at a loss. What was Q’s point? Why was he pushing this, now, after having come back from the dead and choosing Alice, and while engaging in nude kissing with Alice?

“I’m here, now, Eliot,” Quentin said, his voice low and hoarse. “You can say it to me, now.”

A gleam of understanding cut through Eliot’s exasperation. Q wasn’t just tormenting him. There was a reason he wanted to hear it, to his face. There was a reason… The hairs stood up on the back of Eliot’s neck.

Eliot shook his head slowly. “I c… I can’t.”

Slowly, almost shyly, Quentin held out his other hand, the one not holding Alice’s. El looked at it. He looked at Quentin’s face, where color had returned to his cheeks. He looked at the rest of Q. Scared but glorious, water running over the curves of his chest, the little muscles in the sides of his ribs.

Before Eliot’s mind could protest, his body threw off his shirt and shucked off his pants. He stepped out of his socks, and took Q’s hand, letting him pull him into the shower with them.

Q’s arm wound around his waist. His face hovered close to Eliot’s for a heavy moment, and Eliot’s world narrowed down to his lips, parted and exhaling so close, and then they were on his own lips- Q’s mouth- Eliot’s whole world was Q’s mouth. Eliot had both his hands in Quentin’s wet hair and was kissing back, kissing Q for all he was worth.

They finally detached for breath, but El still had Q all pressed up against him, wet skin against wet skin. Eliot had kept on his briefs, and they were soaked and tented, his dick brushing against the hard muscles of Quentin’s abdomen. Q seemed not unaffected himself.

And then Eliot remembered Alice, standing in the stream of water, still holding Quentin’s hand, her hair and clothes drenched. She was looking at the two of them with her mouth open, eyebrows up, her expression a mixture of are-you-shitting-me and amusement.

“Alice, God, I’m sorry-“ Eliot started.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Alice laughed, ducking her head and holding up her free palm. “You two maybe need a little time.” She started to step out of the tub, pulling her hand free of Quentin’s.

“No, Alice,” Q said, not letting go of Eliot as the arm that’d had Alice stretched out after her. “Stay.”

Alice turned to him, one foot out of the tub. “Stay,’” she said back to him, like he couldn’t possibly be serious. She had brought up such an idea only to be faced with Quentin’s skepticism (not that Eliot knew that).

Q nodded, suddenly looking sheepish. “I … missed both of you so much. I’m just…”

Alice stole a glance at Eliot, who must have been dumbly gaping,  because she found no answers there. She ran her hands over her wet hair and let out a long breath. 

Eliot looked at Alice and at Q and back at Alice again. And then Q was kissing his neck, and his eyes rolled up into his head. The mixture of alcohol still in his bloodstream and adrenaline coursing through him already had his knees weak. Add to that the feel of Q’s lips and tongue on him, the instant, helpless arousal that caused in him, and Eliot was no match for all this. Well, for as long as it lasted at least. Q pulled away to breathe, but his vision grayed at the edges, and he was dimly aware of hearing Alice shout of alarm as he slid down the wall of the shower and into quiet blackness.

--

Q came to enveloped in the softest sheets. They felt great on his skin, and though his hair was damp, the rest of him was dry and warm and held. Held by arms. Arms were around him, warm faces tucked into his neck on both sides. He made a little sigh of contentment.

Then he became a notch more conscious, and realized he was naked. In Eliot’s bed. He cracked his eyes open and slid his eyes in each direction. Yep, that was Alice on one side of him, and Eliot on the other.

“You’re awake,” Eliot said, and kissed him, slow and soft. Q felt his dick stir against the silk sheets.

“You love me,” Q said, when Eliot broke off the kiss.

El smiled at him, eyes wet. “I made a mistake, Q. Staying away, hiding from you. I see that now, how much I … I hurt the one I love.” He propped himself up a little more on his elbow to address both Q and Alice. “Will you forgive me?” He asked. “Both of you?”

“We’ll see,” Alice said, lightly, in the pause  Q left for her. El winced a little, and Alice laughed. She stroked Q’s chest idly with one hand. 

Huh, okay, Quentin thought. This is happening. Alright. It seemed no weirder than Quentin coming back whole and mostly intact after blowing to pieces in the Mirror Realm. Plus Eliot’s unexpected reaction to Quentin hearing his feelings for him. On top of all that, having a threesome with Eliot and Alice was maybe just a little bonus, the universe dispensing an extra coin out of the slot machine. Q would just roll with it. He turned toward Eliot and pulled him close, kissing him hard; Eliot responded with enthusiasm, opening his mouth to Quentin’s tongue. Eliot got his top hand around to Q’s ass and squeezed. Q groaned in his throat, and Eliot hummed appreciatively in response.

Memories of similar make-outs from a former life came rushing back, vivid in his imagination. And the ones from a drunken night with too many emotions in his veins. They’d always pretended it was just an accident, it was nothing real, it was two good friends caught up in each others’ emotions. They never talked about it sober. But it had so badly fueled the fire of Quentin’s crush, and he should have stopped it, stopped that hook-up long before his infatuation solidified into full-blown, unshakable love. Quentin had always beat himself up for that, for not being the adult and putting a stop to it, for not protecting himself. But he’d been so young and dumb then.

Now, maybe none of that mattered. Things were different. And even if they weren’t - Q couldn’t pretend it wasn’t real the next day; they had a witness. Alice was there, and she was a part of things this time.

Quentin felt Alice’s hands stroking his back as he and Eliot made out. Alice pressed herself close against his back and kissed the back of his neck. She stroked his side, making him shiver, and then her hand slid around in between Eliot and Quentin’s bodies to wrap around his hard-on. Q gasped into Eliot’s mouth.

“Careful, I might pass out again,” Q said to her, over his shoulder.

Alice snorted and kissed right under his ear. 

Q managed a shrug. “What do you want from me, I’m only human and this is a lot! Mmmm, oh, that’s good”

Q was in heaven. He was sandwiched between the two sexiest people he would ever hope to get with, the softness of Alice’s breasts pressed up against his back, Eliot’s chest and stomach and thighs shuddering against his front as he reacted to Alice’s hand, her wrist brushing up and down his dick as she stroked Q. Eliot’s breathing was heavy and he was making delicious little noises. He wrapped his top leg around Quentin, and Alice fitted her leg under his, all of them tangling together.

It couldn’t get much better than this, could it?

“Wait wait wait wait,” Q suddenly breathed, reaching down to still Alice’s hand.

“That soon, huh?” Alice murmured, teasing.

“It’s been a while,” Q said, low, smiling apologetically. But they knew. Both of them had been with him enough times to know how sensitive he was.

But, he recovered quickly and interrupted any further comments by rolling on top of Eliot, kissing him roughly, and moving down his body.

 “Oh god – Alice, hold my hand,” Q muttered before he tongued Eliot’s nipple. Alice laughed as she lifted his face and kissed him on the mouth. Q could hardly remember the last time he’d heard her sound so happy. She kept laughing as he lavished kisses on Eliot’s belly, making him squirm and yelp, as Q licked up his dick. Q moaned, long and low, and Eliot barely restraining his hips from bucking up into Q’s face. Quentin licked him again and then paused, making Eliot wait for it, making him whimper. And then finally sank his warm mouth down, down over Eliot’s cock, halfway down then up again and slowly, slowly down a little more than halfway. Alice was half on top of him by now, their chests pressed together, her hands mussing up his hair, and Q was running his palms up and down the soft curves of her back as he sunk down a little lower.

Q had eased himself deeper and deeper around Eliot’s cock, finally pushing himself the final bit forward so his nose grazed El’s abdomen. He made a little choking sound but didn’t draw off, and El felt his tongue and throat working just right.

He was going to come in about five seconds. He warned Q as much, reaching around Alice to touch his head and say a few breathy, half-coherent words, but Q only picked up the pace.

“Q, Quentin, god, you’re so good at that, you’re so beautiful,” El sputtered, words pulled out of him helplessly. “I can’t believe you’re here and you’re sucking my dick, god, fuck, Q, I love you! I…” he broke off, crying out, jerking his hips up as he was tumbled over the edge, Q staying on him, mostly stilled but each tiny accidental movement of his tongue intensely felt as El was tossed about by violent waves of pleasure dying.

Q managed to not pass out again, but it was close.

Alice sat up and petted Q’s hair as Eliot came back to himself. Q laid his head on Eliot’s thigh, and he yipped, pushing his head away. “Your stubble, yikes. just had an orgasm” he protested, and Q chuckled.

“I love you, too, El,” he said, and climbed over Eliot on all fours to kiss him, slow and deep. El moaned into it, barely able to move. Q sat up and left him on his back, his face turned in Alice’s direction.

“And Alice– Vix, I owe you something.”

“Oh?” Alice said, tilting her head. “And what’s that?”

Slowly he swung his legs off the bed and stood up, he took her by the hips and gently pulled her toward the edge of the bed, as Alice made a cute, amused snort. Then Q dropped to his knees and spread her thighs with his hands. Alice’s breathing picked up as he nudged his face between her legs.

With a smile, Eliot rolled to one side and watch. Alice gripped damp hair and groaned as Q’s head moved, his nose and cheeks mushed into her body, the sounds of his tongue working. It was enough to make Eliot twitch.

Alice let herself fall back on the bed, head tilted up and one arm over her face, alternating gasping and murmuring encouragement to Q. “That’s good, that’s good, oh, like that,” she said. She peeked at Eliot from under her forearm. “He is good at this,” she whispered, and Q’s responding hmmmm from between her legs made her moan.

Eliot moved after that. He crawled to her and leaned over her, kissing her mouth softly. Alice got one hand into his hair at the back of his head and pulled, making wonderful sounds into his lips and twitching and wriggling as Q made her feel good. An obvious show for Quentin’s enjoyment.

Time passed slow and syrupy as Alice made her way closer and closer, taking her time, basking in kisses, talking dirtier and dirtier to Q. You love eating me out, don’t you? How long did you dream about getting down there? The best part was how Q responded to the things she said, moaning and gasping and shuddering as if it was him being touched.

Alice and Eliot shared a look, and Eliot knew what to do. He clambered off the bed and came up behind Q, one knee on each side of his knees. He wrapped his arms around Q from behind, pulling himself closer, his dick slotting so nice between Q’s round ass cheeks. Q pushed his butt back into Eliot a bit, acknowledging him, never letting up on Alice. Eliot buried his face in the back of Quentin’s neck, inhaling. Q. He never thought he’d have Q back again at all, not even as the shaky remains of a ruined friendship, much less this. He kissed the nape of Q’s neck, then moved around to the side, where Q’s neck connected with his shoulder. Q loved being kissed there. Eliot had not forgotten.

Sucking on that spot, loving the noise Q made, Eliot slid one hand down his front and slowly, slowly skimmed his fingertips over Q’s dick. He heard him gasp against Alice, who had leaned up on her elbows to look down at them. She made eye contact with Eliot over Quentin’s shoulder as Eliot stroked him, lightly and so slow. They both watched his muscles twitch. Alice dropped her head back. Her chest was flushed, and her breathing was heavy.

“Keep touching him, Eliot,” Alice panted. “Make... make him come… Oh god.” She tensed up, hips pressing hard into Q’s face, and gave some lovely cries as he finished her off with gusto. Eliot finally picked up the speed on Quentin’s dick, and immediately his body convulsed and he yelled, muffled, into Alice. El brought his other hand over Q’s dick in time to block at least most of his come from getting all over the side of the bed, the floor, and Q himself.

Heaving for breath, Q fell backwards against Eliot’s body. He tilted his head back to rest on Eliot’s shoulder, smiling up towards Eliot, who kissed the side of his face.

“Get up here, you two,” came Alice’s sleepy voice from up on the bed.

Eliot had to half-drag Q onto the bed. All his activity since getting to the apartment seemed to have been fueled by adrenaline, and now he was fresh out. Alice stroked his hair and murmured to him while Eliot went to use the sink, and returned with a washcloth for him. They cleaned Quentin up and got him tucked in under the sheets, and Q did not protest. For once, he seemed grateful to be taken care of.

Alice and Eliot got into bed next to Q, cuddling him from each side, and Q grunted in contentment.

“At some point,” said Alice, “you have to tell us where how things went. Not now. But soon.”

Q sighed. “The short answer, Vix? I’ve been to hell. And I probably will go there again.”

Alice rolled her eyes at his dramatics. Eliot stifled a laugh: Q was being serious. Eliot was just so giddy he was back, it was hard to feel anything other than joy.

Quentin sensed their reactions and made a mock-frown. “But listen to me, Vix– El. I need you, both of you.”

Alice’s face looked for a moment like she was going to give another sarcastic rejoinder, but she bit it back. “I’m glad you realize that,” she told Q, sincerely.

“Just don’t die again, okay?” Eliot said.

“I’ll try not to,” Q said. Eliot knew that was the best he was going to get. He sighed and kissed Q’s lips gently.