#selfabsorbedprettyboy

Standing up, coffee left behind as he decides to walk over to him. It’s been two years since they spoke, much less saw each other. He waits a beat, pretending to be in line behind him, to see if Connor notices him. 

               “I’m not doing it.  You can’t make me.  Stop asking.  Not gonna happen Connor.”  Stiles shook his head, folding his arms over his chest as if that was gonna have any effect on the other man at all.  “This is not up for discussion.”

        It was probably only a matter of time before the inevitable happened anyway. Best friend or not, Quentin had never really been relationship material. But despite the tingling feeling in the back of his head that this was going to happen eventually, Eliot had never actually prepared for dealing with the aftermath. That’s what kills. There’s some kind of expectation here, what with Q being his best friend and all. But he’s not going to deny that said friend, best or not, fucked up.         That and hearing Connor finding out that his boyfriend had been cheating had been more or less unavoidable. He gently raps his knuckles on the wall, as if there’s actually a physical barrier there -- he’s already let himself in anyway. He raises a brow and looks over at Connor. Screw expectations. “You look like you could use a drink.” 

     Q’s just gonna lay his head down on Connor’s lap. It’s been a long damn day. He’s tired. He needs his entirely too comfortable boyfriend to cuddle him.

[ sms; con ] dod youp knows that you are thd presttist boy on thd planet[ sms; con ] thd prettrttiest