Page 29 of Margins

“Mmmm, they had a little more,” Elijah says, threading their fingers together. “When they were brave enough, they could do this too.”

Scarred and calloused hands. Something beautiful.

“And there was the very first night they met by the warehouses—”

“The message that made us realize—”

“That they were two men,” Alex mumbles, another several heartbeats spent staring down at where they've joined their hands against Elijah’s thigh before he slowly pulls his away, turning his entire body toward Elijah’s instead. He’s cautious, maybe unnecessarily so, and Elijah makes no move to hurry him, his eyes only fluttering shut when Alex finally reaches up to comb his fingers through Elijah’s curls, Alex leaning far enough forward to bring his mouth to Elijah’s ear. “The scrape of stubble, for only a second or two.”

“What happens when our two seconds have passed?” Elijah asks.

“I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I don’t want to let go,” Alex admits, too easily turning it into a plea as he drags his lips along the line of Elijah’s jaw, stopping when he reaches the corner of his mouth. “No tequila today. Tell me about more.”

“I already told you, if you want it, you’re allowed to take it. You’re allowed to be selfish.”

“Elijah.”

“Take it.”

He does, just barely, his hand still tangled in Elijah’s hair when they first kiss, a tiny and tentative thing that can’t do more than promise the chance for another. Elijah continues to wait for him there, Alex trapped between the past and present in so many ways, too aware that he hasn’t kissed anyone but his wife for the past twenty years just as he realizes the same might have been true for Peter way back when. But Alex aches for himself now and does what he can to soothe it, a little steadier when he kisses Elijah a second time, then a third, teasing him open with the tip of his tongue once he’s lost count, and whimpering when Elijah eventually responds with more than small, silent answers to each of Alex’s questions.

It's different, every sensation delivered by their kiss, the taste of Elijah’s lips so new, the sounds he makes unfamiliar, and the relief humming through Alex’s body something he didn’t know he’d been seeking. Elijah’s hand comes up to rest against Alex’s hip, but it’s not enough, and Alex keeps trying to move closer, nearly whining into Elijah’s mouth, the warmth of it something he wants surrounding him. And then the grip at his side becomes more confident, reminding Alex of Elijah’s size and his strength and making it so incredibly natural to do something Alex has never done before, his entire body shifting until he can straddle Elijah’s lap.

“M'selfish,” he mumbles in between kisses that have no real beginning or end.

Elijah doesn’t hesitate to adjust to the new position, his hands slipping beneath Alex’s shirt, warm and ready where he brackets his waist. And Alex still has one hand at the back of Elijah’s head, the other landing at his shoulder and trying so hard to be gentle while he lets himself want and want and want.

“You’re learning,” Elijah says, his smile pressed against Alex’s jaw before he kisses him there, moving to his neck in the next breath. Alex is curled over him and it’s so easy to drop his head to the side when Elijah sucks at every sensitive spot there, too slow to demand what’s already being given.

He understands it—already, even this soon—the difference between comfortable and this, moment after moment leaving him desperate for the next. His body is begging him for things he thinks he should be embarrassed to consider at all, his imagination too good to make him anything but pathetic with need now, but when his hips begin to roll forward, driven by instinct and little more, Elijah’s hold on him tightens quickly, his mouth back to Alex’s for a long kiss.

Still, it’s enough to have Alex pull away, licking at his lips like Elijah’s still there. “No?”

“I—you—” Elijah doesn’t bother to catch his breath, dragging Alex back to him instead and distracting both of them with another kiss until Alex is nearly dizzy with it. “You said you have no idea what you’re doing, but I—Alex.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

Elijah reaches up with one hand to cradle the side of Alex’s face, his thumb brushing over Alex’s lower lip before he chases it away with his own. “But you’re okay?”

“Yeah, but I don’t—you said I could take it, but then you—are you okay?”

The laugh is soft and so quietly intense against Alex’s mouth, felt at least as much as it’s heard. “I’m far better than that, and yeah, you can take it all, anything you want, but not—I want you to go slow.”

Alex blushes. “I wasn’t going to—I wouldn’t—not all of it.”

“No, but even this. I want you to go slow.”

“Because you think I’m not ready?”

The hand still under Alex’s shirt coasts over his back, Elijah’s eyes blazing a beautiful black-blue. “Because we’re not ready. Even with everything I’ve—this isn’t the same for me. I already know this isn’t the same.”

And Alex doesn’t have a response for that, doesn’t think he could speak if he tried, so he moves to take Elijah’s face in both of his hands and pours everything he has into their kiss, every second of it devastating, but somehow made a little more perfect when they both know it won’t become anything else. Elijah’s arms are fully around him now, holding Alex tight against his own body, everything tender in a way Alex wouldn’t have thought it could be, and they don’t break apart again until Elijah has to get ready for work.

While he changes, Alex goes into the bathroom, unable to keep from smiling when he sees how fully wrecked he looks, already having admired how perfectly kiss-swollen Elijah’s lips had been just a minute ago. And he waits near the front door until Elijah comes back out, nodding toward the books in his arms.

“We already know their first kiss comes next,” Alex says. “Wonder what happens after that.”

“You wanna come back tomorrow and find out?” Elijah asks.

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