Quentin made a little noise when his head was pulled back, letting Caliban move him, eyes falling shut as he did. "Yes," he breathed out, stopping just short of calling the other 'sir.' He was probably going to, once they got going.
He took his hands back long enough to unzip his jacket and his hoodie and strip them off, letting them fall to the ground and leave him in a t-shirt. Then he dropped to his knees and started undoing those pants, obediently spreading the placket open and pulling out what was inside. His eyes widened a little at it, and he looked up at Caliban like he was checking if it was real, but he didn't seem put off. God, he was going to choke to death on this thing. (Not the worst way to go.)
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He took his hands back long enough to unzip his jacket and his hoodie and strip them off, letting them fall to the ground and leave him in a t-shirt. Then he dropped to his knees and started undoing those pants, obediently spreading the placket open and pulling out what was inside. His eyes widened a little at it, and he looked up at Caliban like he was checking if it was real, but he didn't seem put off. God, he was going to choke to death on this thing. (Not the worst way to go.)