Chapter Sixteen

They stay a while longer, telling Edgar a little more about how the books brought them together, sharing all the lightest parts of the past couple of months because Edgar's had too much sadness of his own to carry the weight of any of theirs now. Elijah talks about his brother and sister some, and has a lot to say about his grandparents, and then Alex chimes in with anecdotes about Elena, and they don't miss the new glow in Edgar's eyes, still watery yet remarkably clear.

Once Edgar drifts back off to sleep, Elijah's hand still gentle on his arm, Alex and Elijah nod to each other and carefully slip away, finding Natasha soon after they wind their way back to the reception area.

"You guys were in there for a very long time," she notes. "I'm guessing everything went well?"

"It did, and we're—" Elijah trails off and attempts to clear his throat. "Thank you very much."

Natasha shakes her head. "I should probably be thanking you. I've known Edgar for so long, and I think maybe he really, really needed this visit from you."

"I think maybe we really, really needed it too. And if it's okay—" Elijah starts, Alex's immediate nod putting a small smile on his face before he continues. "—I think we'd love to come back and see him again soon."

She digs a business card out of her pocket and hands it over. "I know your mom has all my info, but I wrote my cell number on the back just in case you need me when I'm not here. You're welcome back anytime."

They say their goodbyes and head back through the sliding glass doors to the truck, so much lighter without the Poe book and all the heaviness that came with it. It started raining while they were inside, and the gray feels kind of perfect—not at all bad, but a silent reminder that today was more tender reunion than celebration, life too complicated to pretend otherwise. They climb into the truck and fall back against their seats, wrung out and on the verge of too much of something there's probably no name for. Alex isn't sure either of them has fully stopped shaking, and maybe that's why Elijah hasn't bothered to start the truck, or maybe it just seems like a good time to stare out the windshield for a while, hundreds of droplets racing each other down the glass.

"Hey," Alex murmurs, still looking straight ahead because, as much as he's learned over the past several weeks, he's somehow enough of a coward to avoid eye contact now.

"Hey," Elijah echoes. "You okay?"

"I am, yeah, I—of course. But I—I didn't—I—"

"You don't have to say it, Alex."

He doesn't. He knows that. But the words keep knocking against each other in his mouth, and it has nothing to do with any sense of obligation at all. It's that he wants to say them, almost desperately, but he's held on to them for so long because he's still so new to wanting and each small syllable tastes sweet on his tongue.

"Please," he says instead, mostly because it's the first sound to make it all the way out.

Elijah turns his entire body toward him, the movement visible from the corner of Alex's eye, and Elijah's hand lands against the far side of Alex's face to help turn his head. Neither of them has buckled up yet, and it's almost too easy to meet Elijah in the middle, Elijah's fingers so gentle where they stay at Alex's jaw.

"Please what, sweetheart?"

Alex sighs, an exhale Elijah is close enough to feel. "Please love me."

The rain taps out a beautiful rhythm as they kiss, the first touch almost nothing at all, familiar and chaste. They don't back away from it though, not even when they both know they're in the middle of a San Diego parking lot with a hotel reservation only a few miles from where they sit, Alex opening easily when Elijah wants more, their mouths such a warm contrast to the chill inside the truck. It lasts forever, or maybe Alex just wants that to be true, but then Elijah slows and smiles against him.

"I love you," Elijah says. "And I love you enough that—I don't—you don't have to say anything. It's okay. I know."

"No, you can't—don't let me keep taking from you. Not like this."

Elijah kisses him again, quick and needy. "Okay. Then tell me."

"I love you. I think I have for a while."

"Mmmm, and will you still love me if I tell you I don't want to go to the hotel?"

Alex chuckles. "We can have an early dinner if you want. I'll still love you, even if you're hungry already."

"No, that"s not—I mean, you can keep saying that you love me because I like hearing it, but no—I don't want to go out to dinner, and I don't want to stay in San Diego at all."

"Okay, yeah, we—" Alex is confused, maybe from their visit with Edgar or the unexpected rain or the kissing or the I love yous or the idea of them not sticking to any of the plans they'd made, but ever since he walked back to Elijah's that second morning, he's not sure he could've denied the man much of anything. "You just want to go home?"

"Please. Any of them. Anywhere."

Alex smiles into another kiss. "See, this'll be much easier when there's just one home to choose from."

Elijah ducks away, almost shy about it when he rolls his eyes and finally gets the truck started, steering them onto the freeway within minutes. They're nearly as quiet on the drive back as they had been on the way down that morning, but their moods have shifted and Alex hates that he's struggling to find the words to describe how he's feeling now. There's nothing wrong, obviously, the two of them looking different pasts in the eye and coming out all the better for it, but they left a lot behind in Edgar's room, far more than a faux Poe collection, and while Alex understands Elijah's desire to avoid restaurant and hotel crowds on a San Diego Saturday night, he hasn't figured out how best to handle the solitude they're about to share.

The sharpest edges of their grief have been dulled, but Alex's skin tingles with the subtle scrape of a thousand other things, and he senses the same restlessness in Elijah already. The same need to tether themselves to something more solid than a love story that never really belonged to them, and personal promises they haven't had time to believe in. And when Elijah pulls into Alex's driveway, neither of them has spoken about how they're supposed to get from one fragile place to another, but Alex aches with the need to figure it out.

He"s the one to grab their unused duffel bag from the backseat, maybe just to keep himself busy with something that doesn't require a steady hand, his keys tossed to Elijah to open the front door.

Elijah seems to understand enough to let them in without a word.

It's not until the door is locked behind them that Elijah presses the keys back into Alex's hand and holds him there. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are we okay?"

Alex doesn't bother to answer aloud as they kick off their shoes, and he just barely nods before he takes Elijah's hand and leads him upstairs, past the mostly empty walls he might not need to fill with new pictures after all, and into his bedroom like a couple of decades of lies don't linger in the sheets. He closes the door behind them unnecessarily, but maybe he needs their entire world narrowed to something small tonight, their bag dropped to the floor before Alex presses Elijah against the wall.

"We're gonna be good," Alex tells him, his fingers light where they brush over the sleeves of Elijah's flannel, up and down until he stops to help remove it entirely. Elijah's t-shirt is next, and once it's on the floor, Alex has a perfect view of the deep breath Elijah takes before he kisses away the crease between Elijah's brows. "I think I just really need to feel you right now."

Elijah fists the back of Alex's henley, the roughness of his touch a counter to his gentle kiss. "I need it too. I think it feels like I've been floating away ever since we left."

Since we left could mean the moment Elijah picked Alex up that morning, or perhaps when they said goodbye to Edgar in San Diego, but Alex doesn't ask Elijah to clarify when the precise length of time doesn't matter, and Alex has brought them upstairs to solve that problem anyway. They kiss again, a little more intent behind it, and then Alex lets Elijah undress him. As soon as everything's gone, Alex works to finish the favor, and then they're wrapped up in each other, maybe more comfortable than they ever have been, sure of this even when so many other things still feel brand new. And then Alex finally pulls away, okay with the distance only because he knows he isn't going far and won't be alone for long.

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.

Alex doesn't stop, and for as long as he can, he gives even more, his grip on Elijah's waist tightening, and both of them too worked up to be able to wait much longer. He moves quickly then, enough lube poured into his hand to make each stroke of his cock obscene, Alex unsure where to look when he wants to see it all.

Elijah gets impatient after another few seconds, and Alex manages a clumsy nod, and however much Alex is still nervous about any of what happens next, Elijah is confident enough for both of them, straightening and shifting far enough forward that he can lower himself onto Alex.

Then they wrap their arms around each other, and everything makes such perfect sense.

Alex shivers. "Fuck, I—this is—"

"One more thing you didn't know?" Elijah finishes, grinding against Alex's lap before he starts to rise and fall again. "It's okay, I've got you."

And Alex knows he does. He's known it since the morning Elijah wouldn't let him walk away from his garage sale without explaining why he'd bothered to go back, and since he asked for Alex's number after hearing about an old book's margins, and since he called after Elena's bedtime to talk about a love story that might have belonged to strangers. It was obvious when Elijah asked Alex to meet him at the bar, and when he asked Alex why Cassidy left, and when he refused to kiss Alex after too many tequila shots.

Even after Alex got lost for a couple of weeks, Elijah had him when they first came in each other's arms, and he hasn't let go since.

The control is all his right now, and he braces himself on Alex's shoulders as he takes him deeper, everything about it both fast and excruciatingly slow, a long moan keeping him company on the way down. Each time he reaches Alex's lap, Elijah doesn't stay there long, rocking to fill himself over and over again, Alex's hands on his hips to help however he can. It's everything Alex had dared to want and a little too much too, his body still shaking with the sensation of having Elijah so tight around him, and it doesn't help—or maybe it very much does—that Elijah's cock leaks where it rubs against Alex's stomach, Elijah still content with his languid up and down while Alex is so close to surrendering to a few different things.

For one, Alex wants to promise Elijah that he's got him too, for tonight or for the rest of their lives, but the words get mixed up somewhere along the way.

"I'm—feels so—I—I love you," he stutters.

"I love you, too," Elijah says. "I'm so far beyond in love with you."

The gentleness of their exchange should probably keep the roll of their hips just as measured, but it appears to kick-start Elijah instead, and Alex chases the reminder that this is all part of the story they get to write together, all the twists and turns ones they'll share. Elijah rises a little higher this time, his body sinking back down the next second, and Alex reads him perfectly, his thrust timed to meet Elijah there, both of them crying out at the unexpected pleasure.

"I—fuck—" Elijah cries.

"Keep going," Alex pants. "Whatever you need—tell me."

Even as he makes his demand, Alex sort of wishes he could turn it on himself, his own thoughts everywhere at once because he needs so, so much, still aching from too many years of things he'd never had, and he isn't sure how to beg for all of it now. He's tempted by a recklessness he doesn't know, but their moans are punctuated by the frenetic slap of skin on skin, and Alex thinks maybe he's being introduced to it here.

And then Elijah's hooded eyes meet his, and he reads Alex as well as he always has. "No, you tell me."

"Christ, baby, I—"

"Anything."

"I want to know what it feels like when you—I want you to come like this—while I'm still inside you."

Alex is close to confessing so much more when he catches the look on Elijah's face, his teeth digging into his lower lip like he has to hold back several fantasies Alex isn't ready to hear. He should know he doesn't have to bother, though—Alex wants to hear it all.

Would probably do it all.

But neither of them says anything more for now, Alex wrapping the fingers of one hand around Elijah's cock, his thumb sweeping over the tip and his other hand pushing through Elijah's curls until he can hold him there. Alex thinks he'd love to kiss him again too, but he can't when he's rapidly losing all semblance of control, his body desperate for everything else they can give each other before it's all over.

When Elijah's rhythm starts to break into a hundred heartbeats another minute later, Alex notices immediately. "Yes, please—come for me."

And just before he does, Elijah stares down at Alex, his cheeks flushed and his mouth falling open, and Alex swears he'd stare back forever if he weren't so fucking turned on by what Elijah was about to do, looking down between them just in time to catch the mess spilling over his chest and stomach. Then he releases Elijah's cock surprisingly quickly, one arm winding around Elijah's back while his other hand is still fisted in Elijah's hair, and Alex thrusts into him without a care in the world, every sound from the back of Elijah's throat one of abashed desire.

Alex does his best to muffle his cry against Elijah's body when he finally shudders, his hips jerking once, then twice, then a third time before they crumble into each other, their chests heaving. And Alex knows he needs to get up once they've caught their breath, but Elijah reaches for his face first, a hand on either side of Alex's head when he curls forward to kiss him, the intimacy of it almost enough to keep him there for a lifetime.

He lets go, though, peeling himself away from Alex and falling sideways onto the bed, and Alex stumbles away to clean himself up until he can return to Elijah's arms, sated and silent and maybe half asleep once they"ve piled the covers on top of them. Alex isn't sure how long they lie there, Elijah's fingertips tracing any number of patterns onto his bare skin, but his eyes have been closed for a while when he feels a warm sigh at the back of his neck.

"I know I probably did this family introduction thing a little backward, but I—" Elijah sighs again, and Alex turns in his arms to wait for the rest. When it takes another minute, tears blinked away as they appear, Alex kisses him, as tender as he can be when Elijah needs help finding the right thing to say. "I think there's someone else I'd like you to meet soon. Someone I need to get to know a little better, too."

Alex smiles and presses it to Elijah's cheek. "I would love to meet your mom."