[Quentin pouts a bit at Sophie leaving his lap, particularly since it means he can't keep touching her, but hey, that's what telepathy is for. He knows exactly what made her make that noise in his ear, and he starts by feeding that into her brain, and when he senses her pleasure build, he adds in the feeling of fingers slipping inside her, rubbing her, and moving in all the ways her mind tells him are the right ones. The feedback loop of lighting up her nerve endings, receiving pleasure through the connection of their minds, and subsequently adding to it just makes her actual real hand touching him through his pants feel like being struck by a lightning bolt, and he jerks his hips into her touch with a loud groan.]
Fuck. Okay, okay, no more pants, I got the message. Gimme a sec.
[He hastily shuffles out of his pajama pants and boxers—which are, of course, black with pink omega symbols—and tosses them who-the-fuck-cares-where. Quentin reclines next to her, leaning on one arm while he uses his other hand to hold the back of her neck and pull her into a demanding kiss.]
/And yes, noise shielding is on./
[He pulls away, breathing hard but smirking at her. Honestly? He just wants to say this aloud. For reasons.]
no subject
Fuck. Okay, okay, no more pants, I got the message. Gimme a sec.
[He hastily shuffles out of his pajama pants and boxers—which are, of course, black with pink omega symbols—and tosses them who-the-fuck-cares-where. Quentin reclines next to her, leaning on one arm while he uses his other hand to hold the back of her neck and pull her into a demanding kiss.]
/And yes, noise shielding is on./
[He pulls away, breathing hard but smirking at her. Honestly? He just wants to say this aloud. For reasons.]
Kinda was planning on you needing it.