Jedao twists, takes Quentin's face in both hands, kisses him in a way that somehow manages to be both hard and sweet, intimate and insistent, a rough-edged innocent rock candy kind of kiss. Thank you, he means, desperate and hopeful together, still tangled in himself but no longer thrashing.

He pulls away reluctantly, thumbs still brushing Quentin's cheeks.

"I don't want to miss my shift again. We're always short and Alec already covered for me during...everything. After lunch?"

It gives them both a little bit of time, too, without making Jedao wait long.