Look quota doesn't require both people to orgasm and not to brag or anything but apparently I'm really good at blowjobs so that's probably the easiest option
You literally just have to bring yourself and your dick
This isn't gonna be any less fucking awkward because I told you
I guess to be fair to myself I couldn't really think of a way to say it that wasn't painfully weird but it turns out just typing that text with my eyes closed and sending it was fine-ish
And it's not more awkward than 'I got your name for quota'.
I'll be there at 9.
( and he is. because of the nature of what it is, where it is, it's one of the few times marc doesn't bother with his usual attire of: white suit, moon details. he's dressed instead in the sort of clothes he'd chosen to wear before moon knight, before dying, before all of that — a black turtleneck (no jacket), loose beige chinos, and black boots. no-one, certainly not marc himself, would ever have accused him of being particularly fashionable.
he doesn't know if he's supposed to ask for quentin or if he should just wait, or if he should ask about the back rooms, and so he takes a seat and opts for the middle option.
he doesn't think he's been to the neptune since their first meeting, the one that'd been such a disaster, and it hits marc quite suddenly that, if quentin had wanted this to be anything other than awkward, an alternate venue probably would've been the better shout.
still, he's here now, and at least this time he knows who he's looking out for. )
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'you don't have to do anything, I have a plan.'
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Look quota doesn't require both people to orgasm and not to brag or anything but apparently I'm really good at blowjobs so that's probably the easiest option
You literally just have to bring yourself and your dick
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That's not something you needed to be coy about.
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I guess to be fair to myself I couldn't really think of a way to say it that wasn't painfully weird but it turns out just typing that text with my eyes closed and sending it was fine-ish
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I'll be there at 9.
( and he is. because of the nature of what it is, where it is, it's one of the few times marc doesn't bother with his usual attire of: white suit, moon details. he's dressed instead in the sort of clothes he'd chosen to wear before moon knight, before dying, before all of that — a black turtleneck (no jacket), loose beige chinos, and black boots. no-one, certainly not marc himself, would ever have accused him of being particularly fashionable.
he doesn't know if he's supposed to ask for quentin or if he should just wait, or if he should ask about the back rooms, and so he takes a seat and opts for the middle option.
he doesn't think he's been to the neptune since their first meeting, the one that'd been such a disaster, and it hits marc quite suddenly that, if quentin had wanted this to be anything other than awkward, an alternate venue probably would've been the better shout.
still, he's here now, and at least this time he knows who he's looking out for. )
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