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my strange addiction

Chapter Text

Quentin grumbled softly as he trudged down the hallway of the dorms. He glanced down at the card in his hand, where the dorm number of his new tutor was scrawled in neat cursive. He rolled his eyes, pulling at the strap of his messenger bag as he thought back to who had recommended the tutor.

"You're going to fail your classes , Q," Julia pestered him, gently prodding him while he pretended to study. Quentin let out a small sigh, looking over at her through exhausted eyes. "You need to get some help."

"I mean, I know you're right about my grades, but I don't think that any outside help is going to... well, help me." He sighed softly, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple.

"I know a guy, Q. He's a good tutor," Julia replied, pulling out a piece of note paper and scribbling a number and name down on it. "Eliot's known for being a party animal , but he's still wicked smart." Quentin nodded, already feeling embarrased about this whole ordeal.

"Thanks, Jules.." He took the paper hesitantly, reading over the name. Eliot, huh?

Now he looked up, and paused his search. Here it was, dorm 305. Quentin took a deep breath, before he leaned forward and knocked.

And then knocked again. And again.

Quentin considered leaving; it seemed no one was coming to the door, until he heard the handle turn and an absolutely gorgeous man stood before him.

He was tall, that was definite, and his head was adorned by locks of curly dark hair, perfectly coiffed. He had yet to shave it seemed, so there was the hint of 5 o-clock shadow on his sharp jawline. His chin had a fucking dimple on it, and oh my god, and those lips -

The man before him, the physical embodiment of sex and beauty, raised a brow at him, before he spoke.

"Quentin Coldwater?" And of course his voice was fucking wonderful too, smooth and dripping as honey. Quentin felt his throat dry, and he half assed an answer for this gorgeous man.

"Uh-huh." Wow, really a true wordsmith, Coldwater.

The man looked Quentin up and down, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, those lips -

"I'm Eliot," He drawled, narrowing his eyes a bit as he gazed at Quentin. "You're late." And then he backed into his dorm. Quentin was left in awe, before he finally gained the sense to shut his fucking jaw and stumble in after the man, the door slamming behind him.

"I - uh, s-sorry, traffic was - it was awful to say the least, and -" Quentin fell silent as Eliot whirled back around, his dark brows furrowed as he looked at Q.

"Julia was not lying when she said you were a rambler." Eliot said, unfurrowing his brow, which had no right to be that hot, before he smirked. "Must be a talker in bed, huh?" Quentin's face lit up at this, burning and probably bright red. Eliot was grinning cheekily at him - yeah, definately red.

"Um.... hah..." Quentin shuffled his feet, trying not to laugh out of embarrassment, looking anywhere but Eliot's burning hazel eyes.

Eliot raised a brow at him, still smiling. "Too much?" That had something nice settle in Quentin's stomach, and he quickly shook his head, laughing softly.

"No, I just - didn't expect it..." Quentin replied softly, trying really fucking hard not to bite his lip. "Hot guys don't usually ask me how I am in bed," He couldn't help but mumble it out, and he savored the look of approval that graced Eliot's pleasing features.

"Hm, a shame," Eliot murmured, stepping closer to Quentin. "You're a lot cuter than Julia described you. But then again, she asked me to tutor you, not fuck you."

Quentin silently prayed to the heavens that Eliot ended up doing the latter as well, but he would never say that out loud, especially when the man was right in front of him. He nodded dumbly, biting his tongue, and following Eliot back to his bedroom.

(He knew how that sounded, but the only thing they did that session was reviewing the course work. Well, sort of. Eliot reviewed the course work aloud, Quentin was fantasizing about Eliot while he pretended to listen.)

-

"JULIA ODGEN WICKER!" Quentin's voice rang out angry as he stomped into the apartment he shared with Julia and James, slamming the door behind him. He wasn't actually angry, but a warning that his new tutor was sex on legs would have bean fantastic.

Cheeky fucking Julia peeked from the kitchen, a grin on her face. "He's cute, isn't he?" Julia laughed, eyes sparkling as she playfully wiggled her eyebrows. Quentin groaned loudly, throwing his book bag on the couch and collapsing beside it. He looked at her pathetically, practically pouting.

"You couldn't have warned me? He fucking flirted with me! I could barely focus the whole session!" Quentin replied shrilly, but too late he realised he was smiling. Well. what else was he supposed to do? Be mad at his best friend? No way. Julia laughed, walking over to him and affectionately ruffled his hair as she sat

"Who knows, maybe getting dicked down by Eliot Waugh will help you do better in school, relieve some of that stress." Quentin whined at her words, sinking down the couch into the floor, flipping her off when she laughed at him.

-

The next session with Eliot, Quentin had spent a bit of time in front of the mirror mentally prepping himself to face the hot dude he was already feeling things for. This time, Eliot was not alone, which Quentin pretended did not disappoint him. Instead, he greeted Margo with a smile, and tried to hide his burning cheeks when she purred out, "He's not that cute."

Eliot and Quentin spent about an hour every other day for the next few working on his classwork and whatnot, and surprisingly, Eliot was a huge help. He didn't make Quentin feel stupid for not understanding, and when he found himself stumped, Eliot gently reached out and explained as best he could. At the end of the third week, Quentin was already getting caught up in his classes, and he had no one but Julia to thank. Well, and Eliot, seeing as he had been the one to help in the first place.

Julia constantly teased Quentin about his crush, and while Quentin could insist all he wanted that there were no other feelings for Eliot beside platonic, that would have been a lie. Quentin was falling for him, because of course he would fall for the one guy he could never have. He acted like he wasn't hurt every time he came a little early and saw some dude leaving Eliot's dorm, and he ignored how his heart twinged when it was obvious that Eliot had had company in his bed that wasn't Margo.

Speaking of, Margo both fascinated and terrified the shut out of Quentin. She was fiercely protective of Eliot, and almost always around at his dorm. She seemed just as smart as Eliot, and of course two of the hottest people Q had met on campus would be geniuses.

During one certain session, Quentin had brought up the weekend, and how he was really glad that Eliot had been helping him because he had a free few days for once.

"Oh, little Q," Eliot had purred out (yes, purred), "You must come to one of the Cottage parties!" Quentin had heard of those; they happened every weekend, and Eliot had casually invited him every time since they had started working together. And now that Quentin could finally go, there was no way he was going to give up on this chance to get closer to Eliot.

"Count me in, Eliot," Quentin laughed, smiling brightly, not seeing how Eliot looked at him. "Julia is invited, right? I'm not usually the - er, best at social events. and she helps me deal with them better..."

When Quentin met his gaze, Eliot was smiling so fondly it made his chest ache. "Of course she's invited, she's my friend too, you know," He teased, winking at Q as they started packing up. "And don't feel too pressured to go, but I would love to see you there." Eliot eyed Quentin with something... well complicated, and Quentin flushed and nodded, as he always did around Eliot, and said his goodbyes.

The weekend party at the Cottage, which was sort of a frat house but not really, was going to be happening in a few days.

Fuck.