Page 66 of Margins

He clings to Elijah’s hand again, a timid curve to his smile when he leads them to the bed. “Come here.”

The command isn’t necessary when Alex has already pulled Elijah halfway there, but he might be searching for boundaries that belong to him more than they’re likely to be Elijah’s, driven by how intensely he wants things he’s never had before. Then Elijah agrees whether Alex needs him to or not, and after Alex stacks pillows against his headboard and pulls the covers away, he checks again, just in case Elijah will change his mind.

He won’t, and Alex thinks they both know that.

Alex lets go of Elijah only to crawl onto the bed and get settled there, and then his eyes trip down Elijah’s body and back up again when he reaches for him, Alex still at least a little bit stunned that he gets to have this so easily, and every part of him alive with that reality when Elijah comes close.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Elijah murmurs, cautious as he straddles Alex’s thighs.

Alex’s hands are quick to bracket his waist, both thumbs brushing perfect arcs over Elijah’s skin. “Sit. Just—sit.”

His voice is so low, and the way Elijah’s blue eyes blaze dangerously dark suggests he likes the sound a lot, his lower lip caught between his teeth when he rests on Alex’s lap. Alex hasn’t stopped watching him when he lifts a hand to the side of Elijah’s head, and it’s incredible to see the way Elijah nuzzles into his touch, seeking and finding without question. Then he finally releases his oft-abused lip when Alex arches upward to coax it free with the tip of his tongue, teasing Elijah open for a kiss that lasts just short of forever.

Their lips are exceptionally tender, and it contrasts beautifully with the rougher scrape of their skin, every touch gentle while their hands remain strong, their bodies needy while they patiently give and take, and scream about how much they love each other while saying nothing at all. And when Alex eases away from their kiss, he doesn’t go far, his lips opening against Elijah’s neck while he brings them back from whatever daydream they’d just shared.

“I asked you to let me move in with you,” Alex says. “I didn’t—I just sort of invited myself.”

“You’ve got me in a hell of a position right now, and I’ve got no truck to pull to the side of the road,” Elijah groans, the vibration in his throat an unfamiliar but welcome taste on Alex’s tongue. “But I’m not above pushing you onto the floor if we need to have a serious talk about this.”

“No, I—today was a really emotional day, and I—did we get carried away? Did I get carried away?”

“Halfway to San Diego wasn’t the first time you’d thought about it.”

Elijah’s not really asking, but Alex looks at him and shakes his head anyway. “No.”

“And we’re kinda naked together in your bed, so I’m guessing you’re not suddenly opposed to the idea of living with me?”

“No.”

The room is so quiet, and it makes Alex’s whimper seem loud when Elijah rolls his hips forward, a wicked grin on his face before he leans forward to bury it against Alex’s temple, the continued motion between them a slow and steady thing.

“I’m overwhelmed too, but I haven’t been carried anywhere I didn’t already want to go,” Elijah whispers. “So, Alex, please, will you move in with me?”

Alex’s hands have been almost lazy as they skate over Elijah’s back, his touch light where it dances along his spine, but then Alex’s fingernails begin to etch something across the expanse of his skin, and he’s ready to catch Elijah’s moan in his mouth, chasing it with his tongue by the time he finds himself holding on to Elijah’s hips again. They kiss for as long as either of them can when they both want Alex to give his answer to a question that doesn’t require one, and he’s breathless and at least a little bit gone when his lips crawl across Elijah’s collarbone.

“Yes, I—god. Yes, I want to move in with you. So much,” Alex says, and Elijah shivers, a long and stupidly sexy thing that gets passed along to Alex, his bare skin warm and wanting so much more, a portion of his heart grounded while the rest of it remains in danger of being lost to the sky. “Still really need to feel you, too.”

Something mischievous flashes in Elijah’s eyes when he looks down to where they’re still pressed together, the tips of their cocks wet for a while already, but Alex guides Elijah’s chin back up and buys himself another few seconds with a filthy kiss before he twists to the side, stretching for his nightstand from beneath Elijah’s curious stare. When he returns with what he needs, he kisses Elijah again and runs one hand around the curve of his ass to pull him that much closer, then Alex drags his fingers back over Elijah’s thigh until he can tear at the condom wrapper, Elijah waiting and left surprised when he never feels Alex slide it over him.

It makes sense, of course, Elijah’s assumption that Alex would get them ready for Elijah to kneel between Alex’s legs or to flip them over and let Alex be on top or maybe lie side-by-side with Elijah’s chest tight against Alex’s back while Elijah’s fucks him so, so slowly for so, so long. It’s the way it’s been since that first night, when Alex couldn’t have fathomed how to tell Elijah what he wanted, and Elijah had made the decision to take Alex apart by rocking into him again and again and again.

But it’s not what Alex wants now.

“You don’t just need to feel me,” Elijah realizes, taking the lube from Alex so he can pour it onto Alex’s fingers before he rises up onto his knees, one on either side of Alex’s waist. “You need to feel me around you.”

Alex remembers Elijah telling him that he likes it all, and because there’s nothing to suggest that’s changed, Elijah’s words are only barely past his lips before Alex pulls him down to him again, his tongue chasing the way each letter must have tasted before they’d become something he could hear. While they kiss, Alex spreads his legs a little further apart, Elijah’s own position widening naturally in response, and their mouths are still open against each other when Alex curls his hand around Elijah and starts with one slow stroke, then another, the rhythm against Elijah’s cock more notable than the pressure.

“Is it only me, or do you still need this too?”

“Need it, yeah,” Elijah says. “And I want it from you. For you. With you.”

With fingertips that are still plenty slick, Alex slips his hand between Elijah’s legs to stroke him there instead, surprisingly sure when he begins to work Elijah open, his own body reacting loudly when Elijah’s head tips backward on a long, beautiful exhale.

“Tell me more,” Alex rasps. He keeps moving, an easy back and forth as unhurried as the way his lips brush across Elijah’s chest, occasionally pulling his fingers away to tease Elijah before pushing into him again, the building tension between them delicious and maybe important. “Tell me if I make you feel as good as I feel when you’re inside of me.”

Then he starts to go a little faster or harder or deeper even, still careful and trying to lean further back against his pillows, intent on doing everything he can to watch Elijah while Elijah watches him. Alex smirks when he catches Elijah’s breath hitching at random, but his expression falters, and Alex becomes some kind of pathetic when he adds a second finger and feels Elijah's body adjust to it eagerly. It’s different, being the one to touch Elijah like this, but Alex is so fucking turned on, he thinks maybe he’s operating on instinct alone when he does something new with his fingers, twisting them or crooking them or whatever it is that suddenly makes Elijah gasp.

“Again,” Elijah begs.

---