Sean/Elijah – AU

Undiscovered Soul

Searching for the road

Looking for a home

In the great unknown

Don’t want to walk through life

An undiscovered soul….

When Sean was very young, he learned to stop wishing, because wishing was for other people, and so he grew up stolid and dependable. Sometimes people would smile behind their hands because he was unexciting. People always knew where they were with Sean; and the world can be a cruel place where dependability and honour can become bywords for uninteresting and boring.

He did what was expected of him, married and had children, became a pillar of society, and was often seen on the school run, a picture of the perfect father. Mothers would watch him and smile amongst themselves, saying how marvellous it would be to have such a perfect husband.

And every night he would go to bed, and curl around the hollowness inside him, not understanding what he wanted, what it was he was missing. He loved his wife, loved his children, loved his solid, dependable life, and didn’t understand the emptiness that filled him.

One day, when he was in the garden on his knees, with his fingers deep in the earth, loving the rich, loamy smell that surrounded him, the peace was shattered by the sudden blaring of a stereo, playing some dreadful sound that Sean wasn’t even willing to call music, and startled, he looked up, trying to place the source.

The music shut off as suddenly as it had started, and a voice shouted, "Sorry! General grovel to neighbours. Sat on the remote."

Curious, Sean stood up, wiping his hands on the seat of his jeans, and walked over to the fence that divided him from his neighbour’s house. The house had stood empty for a few months, but now, as Sean peered over the fence, he saw the windows and doors stood wide open. He could just see a shadowy figure inside.

"Hello?" he called. "Hello?"

"Hi." The figure inside moved towards the window. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," Sean assured him. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. Just moving in, as you’ve probably noticed." The figure stepped out into the sunlight and Sean smiled a welcome.

"You’ve chosen a good place to live. I’m Sean." He put out a hand, reaching slightly awkwardly over the fence.

"Hi, Sean, it’s good to meet you. I’m Elijah." Sean’s hand was taken in a firm grip. He had time to register how small Elijah’s hands were before the handshake was over. "Why don’t you come in for a coffee? Tell me all about the neighbourhood?"

"I’d like that," Sean said, then looked down at himself. "I’ve been gardening though - I’m a bit grubby."

"Oh, no problem. I hate gardening. Never been able to tell a weed from a flower. I’ve probably destroyed rare orchids in my time and cultivated weeds. Not weed, just weeds. Weed I would recognise." Elijah smiled, and Sean found himself smiling back, slightly foolishly.

"I’ll just go and put some clean pants on," he said.

"No, don’t," Elijah said, raising a hand. "I honestly don’t mind. Come on over."

"Okay." Sean looked to the right. "There’s a bit of broken fence just up there - I’ll cut through there if I may."

"Come on in," Elijah said turning back towards the house. "I’ll go and see if I can find the coffee."

*

"Hi, you made it!" Elijah greeted him as Sean walked into the kitchen. "Congratulations on not falling over anything on the way." He looked up from the box he was rummaging in, jar of coffee held triumphantly in one hand. "I’m shit at moving things. I get easily distracted."

"I notice that you’ve got your stereo up," Sean replied, leaning against the corner of the kitchen counter. "Actually, I suspect that everybody within a radius of three counties knows that."

"I’m sorry," Elijah said again, smiling in a completely unabashed fashion. "I’m such a music whore it’s the first thing that was unpacked." He looked around. "The only thing, at least so far." He smiled at Sean and shrugged. "Tell me about you," he said. "How long have you lived here?"

"Oh, a long time," Sean said. "Ten years or more…"

"Really? How old are you?" Elijah put his hand over his mouth. "Sorry. Rude."

"No, not at all. I’m thirty-five."

"You don’t look it," Elijah said, then paused. "I’m just going to stop apologising now, all right? Just accept that I say things before I think about it, and I always end up sounding as if I’m being either nosey or just plain rude."

"I’ll remember that," Sean agreed gravely, taking the mug of coffee Elijah handed him, shaking his head when the sugar and cream were pointed out. "So how old are you?"

"Twenty-five," Elijah said with the gloomy relish of somebody who has just had a birthday.

"You look younger," Sean said, smiling at Elijah’s surprised laugh.

A brief silence fell as they both looked into their coffee, and then Sean looked around. "So, are you alone? Not married?"

"No," Elijah said. "Not married. I’ve just finished a long relationship, and I don’t plan to get involved in another one for a while."

"She break your heart?" Sean asked.

"Mmm," Elijah said. "Something like that." He looked up. "What about you?"

"Married," Sean confirmed. "Two lovely children."

"And yet still unhappy," Elijah said. "Still missing something."

"What?" Sean looked up, startled. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing, I’m sorry." Elijah held up a hand in apology. "You just have a look about you."

"Well I’m very happy," Sean said, a little stiffly. "I don’t know what you mean." He put his coffee down. "I should be going."

"No," Elijah said, putting down his own coffee. "I’m sorry, Sean. Please stay for a little while. I don’t like … I don’t like emptiness." He shrugged. "Come into the garden, why don’t you? I’m sure that you can at least point me in the direction of the flowers." He smiled, and a strange thought went through Sean’s head.

He’s beautiful.

He tried not to let his surprise show, and instead, nodded slightly. Elijah nodded in return and together they went into the sunlight, Sean following as Elijah led the way. Small, dark-haired and huge eyed, Elijah had an air about him of fragility, and Sean, still confused, found himself wanting to find out more about him.

He’s beautiful.

Again, the same thought, and this time Sean shook his head, dismissing it, concentrating instead on following Elijah through the wilds of the garden.

*

"We have a new neighbour," he said that night as he sat down at the dinner table, watching as his wife poured a glass of wine. "His name’s Elijah."

"Odd name," she said. "Do me a favour, Sean, don’t start getting friendly with him. You know what you’re like with people, and the last thing I need is having a total stranger turn up on the doorstep wanting to borrow the mower."

"You’re right," Sean said, accepting the glass she held out to him. "He seems nice, though."

"So did Norman Bates." She raised one eyebrow at him and he laughed.

*

Sean was busy with work after that - as a gardener, he had to take work whenever it cropped up - and he didn’t see Elijah for almost two weeks, except fleetingly to nod at in passing.

He was in the garden, enjoying the end of summer feel to the air, when he heard Elijah’s voice, raised slightly in anger. Another voice, lower and calmer, was answering, but they were in the house and Sean couldn’t hear the conversation, couldn’t even explain why he was trying to listen. Casually, he made his way closer to the fence, part of him shocked at his own behaviour. Because of that, he jumped like a scalded cat when Elijah’s voice suddenly came to him clearly as the garden door was thrown open.

"Just fuck off!" Elijah shouted. "You’re the one who wanted it over, you’re the one who told me to get out, and then you come here and look at me out of those puppy dog eyes and think I’m going to let you bend me over the nearest hard surface! Well think a-fucking-gain!"

"Elijah, you’re making a scene, just for a change, but this time there’s nobody here to appreciate your pretty hysterics." Sean listened to the tone more than the words, and he bristled on Elijah’s behalf.

"Go away." Elijah’s voice was quieter, although still clear. "You make me tired. Just go away, Mark."

"I don’t want to," came the reply, and there was the sound of a scuffle, and Elijah’s voice was raised before being cut off suddenly.

Sean, on the other side of the fence, moved closer, unsure. He thought he should perhaps be on hand.

"Sean! What on earth are you doing skulking around like that? Come into the house!"

Startled, Sean took a step away from the fence and then, as his name was called again, he turned and jogged towards his wife.

*

Later, as he lay in bed, the household sleeping peacefully around him, Sean heard the slam of a door and a few moments later a car engine starting. He knew the sound came from Elijah’s house, and he lay quietly, trying to decide what to do. Elijah didn’t have a car, so the person who had just left must be the mysterious Mark, and Sean couldn’t stop a tickle of concern. Elijah had wanted Mark to leave hours ago, and then there had been the cut-off shout … Sean sighed and closed his eyes, his imagination beginning to run riot. He reached the Elijah lying in a pool of blood with a knife in his back scenario before he slid quietly out of bed and pulled on an old shirt, not bothering to fasten it or tuck it into his sweats.

Elijah’s house seemed quiet, although when Sean went around the back, he could see that the lounge light was on, and could hear soft, mellow jazz playing somewhere. Peering through the window, he could see the back of Elijah’s head, bent slightly as he seemed to concentrate on something - perhaps the music. Sean tapped on the window, and Elijah’s head shot up as he spun around.

"I’m sorry," his voice was slightly muted by the barrier between them. "I didn’t mean to wake you."

"You didn’t," Sean replied. "Elijah, let me in. I heard … I don’t want to stand out here and shout. Would you let me in?"

Elijah’s shoulders seemed to sag a little before he pulled himself to his feet and opened the garden door, letting Sean in. As he stepped back, the lamplight caught his face, and Sean gasped, reaching out without even thinking about it.

"What happened?" he demanded, his fingers gentle against the bruised skin of Elijah’s cheek. "Was it Mark?"

"How do you know about Mark?" Elijah asked, not pulling away.

"I heard, earlier. You seemed to be arguing with him." He moved his hand, only as far as Elijah’s shoulder. "Come into the kitchen. You need ice on that."

Elijah let himself be steered into the kitchen, halting when Sean flicked on the overhead light.

"I forgot," he said. "You shouldn’t come in here."

"What happened?" Sean demanded. "This place…"

Drawers were pulled out and every appliance had clearly been thrown to the floor, rather than accidentally dropped. "Elijah?"

"Nothing," Elijah said, and Sean could hear the weariness in his voice. "Just an argument." He pulled away from Sean and turned off the light. "Thank you for coming over, but I’m fine. You should go."

Sean turned the light on again. "I need ice. Your face is swelling already."

Sean went over to the freezer, rummaging around until he found some ice which he proceeded to tip into a cloth and carry back to where Elijah still stood by the door. He pressed the pack against Elijah’s cheek, noting the shiver his touch caused, and lifted Elijah’s hand to press against it.

"Your hand!" he exclaimed, inspecting the scraped knuckles. "Elijah, what happened here? Did Mark attack you?"

"No. He’s the ex, the one I just split with," Elijah said, his eyes closing in weariness. "Turns out he doesn’t like the fact I left and he made his feelings pretty damn clear tonight. Decided he wanted a farewell fuck and I wasn’t willing to give him it."

Sean swallowed, unsure. "And did he… did he take it?"

Elijah smiled without humour. "Oh, yes." He opened his eyes. "I’m sorry, Sean. I’ll be fine. Thank you for this, but I’m sure you don’t want to get involved in my sordid little life."

"Will he come back?" Sean asked, ignoring Elijah. "Mark? Should we call the police?"

"No, he won’t come back. One of the reasons he came round was to tell me he’s been transferred to the office in New York - very big in the city is Mark - and to ask me to come with him." Elijah shook his head and took a deep breath. "He won’t be back."

"Let’s get you to bed," Sean said, touching Elijah’s shoulder. "You look exhausted."

"I am," Elijah admitted. "Please Sean, go home. I didn’t mean to disturb anybody, and I won’t expect you to even speak to me again."

"What?" Sean was genuinely confused. "Why wouldn’t I speak to you?"

"Middle class neighbourhoods don’t want little fag boys in their midst," Elijah said. "Especially little fag boys who go and get themselves beaten up."

"Don’t be silly," Sean said, in a tone he usually reserved for his children. "Come on, let’s get you to bed." He put his arm around Elijah’s shoulder, foolishly moved when Elijah sagged against him, his exhaustion and shock finally getting the better of him. Sean had to practically carry him up the stairs, laying him gently on the bed.

"Do you want anything?" he asked, trying to still an urge to reach out and brush Elijah’s dark hair away from his face. "Will you let me at least call someone, even if you don’t want the police?"

"No," Elijah said faintly, his eyes almost closed. "My friends are his friends. Having to start again, Sean. S’tough."

"Well, I’m here," Sean replied softly. "I’m your friend. And if he comes here again, we’ll deal with him together."

Elijah smiled faintly and reached out, briefly squeezing Sean’s hand, but he didn’t speak.

*

When he slid back under the covers in his own bed, Molly rolled towards him.

"You smell of the outdoors," she said faintly, barely waking.

*

The next day, Sean waited until Molly went to work and then made his way over to Elijah’s house, ringing the bell until the window above his head was thrown open and Elijah’s tousled head appeared.

"Oh, hi," he said. "Hold on, I’ll be right down."

"I’ve come to help you clear up," Sean said as Elijah opened the door, obviously more than half asleep. He reached out and touched Elijah’s swollen cheek. "That looks terrible."

"It feels terrible," Elijah said waspishly, pulling his head away. "Especially when people prod it." He turned and led the way into the house, not waiting to see if Sean followed.

"How are you today?" he asked, accepting the coffee Elijah had made. "Really?"

"Really?" Elijah shrugged. "Sore. Bruised. Maybe a little bit scared." He picked up his own mug and inhaled the scent. "Grateful that you were there, grateful that you’re here." He finally looked at Sean. "Why are you here? You don’t know me, don’t owe me anything."

"Because I like you," Sean said immediately. "Because nobody deserves to be treated the way Mark treated you." He looked at his own coffee. "Because you’re my friend."

"I was right about you," Elijah said. "The first day I met you I knew that you were a good man, a kind man." He rolled his eyes. "It’s true what they say. All the best ones are taken!" He laughed, and Sean, startled by the sheer joy of it, laughed as well, and then quieted.

"On the first day we met, you said that I was missing something, do you remember?"

"Of course I do. I have a memory like - a thing that remembers lots. A pig, perhaps?" Elijah shrugged. "I have a good memory. Tell me what it is you’re missing."

"I don’t know," Sean said. "I wish I did. Do you miss anything?"

"No," Elijah said. "Well, I miss my friends, but I’m making new ones of my own now." He smiled at Sean. "But other than that? No. I know what I want and I know who I am. It’s all anybody can ask for."

He walked past Sean, briefly touching his shoulder. "Now come and help, since that’s why you’re here."

Frowning slightly, Sean raised his hand and touched his shoulder where Elijah’s fingers had rested.

*

"I wish you wouldn’t," Molly said. "Why have you invited him to dinner? You spend enough time with him anyway, don’t you?"

"Because he’s lonely, and he’s a good man," Sean said. "He isn’t an axe murderer, Mol, come on." He moved across the kitchen and put his arms around her, leaning his chin on her shoulder. "Come on. He’s been in the house for a couple of months now, and you haven’t even seen him."

"I know." Molly leaned back into Sean’s embrace before turning and kissing his cheek. "All right, tomorrow."

"Good girl." Sean kissed her cheek and made his way over to speak to Elijah.

*

"You shouldn’t leave the garden door open like that," he said, as he walked into the kitchen. "Anybody could come in."

"Anybody just did," Elijah said, grinning at Sean. "What do you want, intruder?"

"Come to say hi, see how you are," Sean replied, moving to lean next to Elijah, watching as he prepared his dinner. He raised his hand, brushing Elijah’s cheek where the bruise had been. "That’s gone completely now. You’re as beautiful as ever." He let his hand linger there, stroking the length of Elijah’s cheekbone before suddenly realising what he was doing and dropping his hand. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Here to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening."

"Really?" Elijah smiled. "That would be great, thank you. I’d love to accept." He held up a spoonful of the sauce he had been preparing. "While you’re here, make yourself useful. What’s missing from this?"

Sean opened his mouth and tasted the sauce, then shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing’s missing."

"I know," Elijah said triumphantly. "I just wanted you to realise what a fantastic cook I am. That unfortunate incident with the tuna when you came to dinner last was just a fluke."

"What, you mean dropping it on the floor and then attempting to wash it and hope I hadn’t seen isn’t the kind of thing you would normally do?" Sean laughed.

"No," Elijah said gravely. "Not normally. Hold on, you’ve missed a bit." He raised his hand and moved his thumb across the corner of Sean’s mouth before pressing it against Sean’s lips. "Here."

Sean opened his mouth and licked Elijah’s thumb before both of them suddenly realised what they were doing, pulling apart, embarrassed.

"I should go," Sean said, trying to damp down the tingle in his body, the echo of Elijah’s touch against his lips. "My turn to read to the kids." He didn’t move, looking at Elijah’s downturned head. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Elijah said. "I’ll be painting the bedrooms tomorrow, so I’ll try not to come over looking too paint splattered."

"I thought gay men were supposed to be very fastidious," Sean said lightly. "You know, had some kind of shield that keeps paint off them."

"If that’s right, then I was in a different queue when that particular gift was handed out," Elijah said ruefully. "I hope whatever it was I was waiting for was really good, or that I got two of them."

Sean laughed, and after a second so did Elijah.

"Want some help with the painting?" Sean asked. "I’ve got to work in the morning, but I’ll be back around lunchtime."

"Okay, yeah." Elijah nodded. "I’d like the company." He bit idly at his thumb nail - the same thumb that had been in Sean’s mouth. Sean reached out and pulled it away from Elijah’s mouth, their hands touching for a long time.

"I’ll see you tomorrow."

*

"What on earth do you two find to talk about anyway?" Molly asked when they had washed the dishes and were sitting in the den, the children in bed. "You spend ages with him."

"I don’t know," Sean said. "We talk about everything and nothing. What do you talk about with your girlfriends?"

"Okay," Molly said, laughing. "Just as well he’s a man. If you spent so much time with a woman, I’d know you were having an affair!"

*

He moved his hand desperately, eager to come, eager to reach the end. The water of the shower pounded on his shoulders as he stood, head bowed, one hand braced against the wall while the other squeezed and pulled at his cock. He had been hard since he had stood in Elijah’s kitchen, since he had learned what Elijah tasted like. He didn’t understand it - wasn’t sure he wanted to understand it - but as he closed his eyes and squeezed harder, twisting viciously at the end of each stroke, he could see Elijah - see that thick dark hair and that moonn-pale skin, lose himself in blue eyes that were too beautiful for a man. And as he watched, the Elijah in his mind slowly raised his thumb and pressed it against Sean’s lips.

It was too much, and with a groan, he came, shuddering out a name that wasn’t his wife’s.

*

"Where are you?" Sean glanced quickly around the bottom level of the house, but there was no sign of Elijah. He quickly closed and locked the door and then made his way up the stairs, looking into the first of the bedrooms he came to. There were signs that Elijah had started work there, but the room was empty. "Elijah?"

"Here." The voice was quiet and low, and Sean, worried, jogged into Elijah's bedroom, stopping as he took in the sight of Elijah sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by what looked to be photographs.

"What's wrong?" Sean asked. "Elijah?"

"Do you ever wish you had thrown something away without looking at it?" Elijah asked, not looking up. "Ever really regretted not listening to yourself?"

"Yes," Sean replied, dropping to his knees next to Elijah. "What have you done?"

"Look." Elijah moved his hand, showing Sean what he was holding. Photographs, as Sean had thought, of Elijah, looking young and happy, sitting on the ground between the legs of a tall, blond man who was leaning forward, his face buried against Elijah's neck.

"Did you love him?" Sean asked, knowing it was a foolish question. "This is Mark, isn't it?"

"Yes. Both questions. God, I loved him so fucking much." Elijah dropped the photographs and pulled up his knees, hiding his face. "How stupid am I? He came here, he punched me, he as good as raped me. And if he walked in that door, I would take him back in a heartbeat." He shook his head. "I'm so fucking lonely," he whispered.

"Don't be," Sean said quietly, putting the photographs face down on the floor and raising his hand to touch the back of Elijah's neck. "You're worth more than that. If he walked in that door right now, then I would turn him round and walk him right back out." He moved his fingers, part of his mind registering the surprising softness of Elijah's skin. "You won't always be lonely. You'll find what it is you're missing."

"I miss Mark," Elijah said. "I know I sound pathetic. I know ... " He stopped and took a huge breath, moving slightly toward Sean, leaning against him briefly before pulling away. "I should never have opened this stupid box. Should have burned it."

"Tell me what he'd be like," Sean said, not wanting Elijah to move away. "Your perfect man."

Elijah huffed a laugh. "Dependable. Reliable. Somebody who wouldn't let me down." He shifted his eyes sideways. "Somebody like you."

Sean laughed, embarrassed. "Don't you want adventure?"

"No. I've had enough of that. I just want - no, that's not right. What I don't want to be is alone."

"You'll find him," Sean said, his fingers still moving softly. "Find what you're missing."

Elijah looked up sharply. "What?" He moved his own hand, touching Sean's leg. "I'm not the one missing something. I think that's you."

"You're beautiful..." Sean said, unable to help himself falling into Elijah's eyes. "I dream about you." He shook his head. "I shouldn't. I can't do it." He moved his hand, tracing along the line of Elijah's jaw. "I never allowed myself to wish for anything, did you know that? And I can't help it; I wish - I wish I could kiss you, touch you." He moved his hand again. "I know what it is that I'm missing."

"How do you know?" Elijah asked, not moving into the touch but, Sean noticed, not moving away either.

"Because I dream about your skin," Sean whispered. "I go to bed with my wife, and I dream of you."

"You're married," Elijah said, finally pulling away and standing up. "You have a family. I don't want to confuse you." He looked down at Sean. "You've been a friend to me these few months since I got here. You were here when I needed you and every day since. But I don't want to wreck what you have."

Sean stood up as well, moving towards Elijah. "I have a lot," he said. "I have two beautiful children and a wonderful wife. That is what I have. I don't have what I need."

"Have you ever been with a man?" Elijah asked. "It's not all sweet and romantic, you know. It can be hard and dirty. Sometimes it hurts. How would you feel if I said I wanted you to put your cock up my ass? Could you handle it? Could you handle it if I told you that Mark bent me over in the kitchen and fucked me so hard I cried?"

"Don't," Sean said. "I would do whatever you wanted." He stopped. "I want to kiss you, feel you on my skin. Just looking at you is enough to make me hard."

Elijah's lips quirked in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Would you break my heart?" he asked. "Leave me when you decide that I wasn't what you wanted after all?"

"I would never leave you," Sean said, stepping forward. "You're what I was missing." He put his hand slowly on Elijah's cheek, thumb moving softly over the corner of his mouth. He could see Elijah's chest moving more quickly and felt his own breathing speeding up, the warmth of Elijah's skin burning his palm.

"You're beautiful," Elijah said. "I thought so when I first saw you. So big and solid." He raised his hand and put it over Sean's. "But I think I still love Mark. What about that?"

"I'll make you forget him," Sean said immediately. "You'll forget you ever knew him." He leaned forward further until his lips were almost brushing Elijah's, waiting for permission.

It came when Elijah touched Sean's face and whispered his name, and Sean leaned forward another half inch and kissed him, groaning at how right it felt, at how Elijah tasted, how hot his mouth was. He could feel himself trembling, and hesitantly put his hands on Elijah's shoulders, kneading softly. Elijah muttered something and the sound inflamed some part of Sean that he didn't know existed, and his grip shifted, sliding over Elijah's shoulders and down his back, pulling him close, grinding himself against Elijah's hip, frantic in his need to make him understand.

"Hey, stop!" Elijah pulled away, breathless. "Not so fast." He put his hands on Sean's face. "Stop," he said again.

"God, Elijah... Please." Sean was aware that he was pulling at Elijah's shirt, not trying to remove it, simply pulling at it, not knowing what to do. "Please. This is what's been wrong."

"You know that after one kiss?" Elijah asked.

"I knew it long before that." Sean leaned forward again. "I've never felt like this." His hips were moving again, rubbing against Elijah, who wasn't anywhere near as hard as he was.

"You're shaking," Elijah said, moving his hands slowly until they were resting on Sean's chest. "I can feel it all over you. Do you want me so much?"

"So much," Sean said, ducking his head. "So much I could die."

"Don't die," Elijah said, laughing. "Just kiss me."

So Sean did. Kissed him slightly hesitantly at first, until Elijah moved his hands around Sean's waist pulling him close, opening his mouth and encouraging the kiss to deepen, pressing against him so that Sean could feel his growing arousal.

He pulled back slightly at that, unsure.

"I've never..." he said. "Never done anything."

"And do you want to?" Elijah asked. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes," Sean answered simply.

"Then leave it to me," Elijah said, kissing him softly. "I'll show you everything." He hesitated. "You're sure?"

"Stop asking me that," Sean said. "I'm more than sure."

Elijah nodded, and raised his hands, beginning to unfasten Sean's shirt button by button, leaning forward to kiss each inch of flesh as it was revealed, making Sean hiss in a breath and tilt his head back, Elijah's lips hot and smooth, making him shiver. When his shirt was open, he shrugged it off, impatient suddenly, wanting more.

"You ready for more?" Elijah said.

"All of it," Sean said to the ceiling. "God, this is perfect."

It was, he realised, with sudden startling clarity. It was perfect. Elijah's mouth on him, Elijah's voice soothing him and inflaming him at the same time, and after too long and short a time, Elijah's mouth engulfing him, taking him in and sucking the soul out of him.

But suddenly it wasn't enough. He wanted more, and he leaned down and pushed a startled Elijah away, leaning down and kissing him before he could protest, and then dropping to his knees, his cock proud against his belly.

"Let me see you," he said. "I want to see you."

With a small smile that still seemed slightly unsure to Sean, Elijah leaned back on his elbows, offering himself.

"So beautiful," Sean said, straddling Elijah and unfastening his shirt, spreading the sides apart before lowering his head to suckle on a nipple, making Elijah buck his hips.

"Touch my cock," he said, hands on Sean's head. "Prove it to me."

Sean moved his head lower, licking and kissing Elijah's belly, learning the taste of him, at the same time pulling at Elijah's jeans, opening them and pushing them down to his thighs, before pausing as Elijah's cock, now fully erect, briefly brushed against his cheek.

"Still feel right?" Elijah demanded. "God, Sean, touch it."

"More than right," Sean replied, reaching out and stroking his fingers up the rigid length, watching as it quivered, moisture gathering and running down the smooth flesh. He closed his fingers around it and sighed at the rightness of it. Elijah gave an echoing sigh and moved his hips, pushing into Sean's grip.

"How...?" Sean asked. "I want to make you come, but ..." he laughed "- I want to come as well!"

Elijah laughed as well and reached down. "Come here. Take off your pants –" Elijah did the same, the lay back again. "Now, lie on me." He shifted his weight. "More than that, Sean. I'm not going to shatter." As Sean moved, trying to adjust his position, Elijah reached between them, and Sean gasped as his cock was gripped more tightly than he would do it himself.

"Too much?" Elijah asked.

"No," Sean answered. "No, perfect..." He moved his hips into Elijah's grasp, and gasped again as he realised he could feel Elijah's cock against his own, the sensation odd but perfect. Elijah moved his hand and shifted his hips and somehow Sean's cock ended up in the groove where Elijah's leg became hip, the friction tight, increasing when Elijah raised his legs to wrap around Sean's waist.

"Now, move," Elijah said. "Come on, you're the one in control. Make us both come."

Sean moved his hips again, harder this time, watching as Elijah's eyes closed at the sensation, so he did it again and again, dipping his head and kissing Elijah's forehead, his cheek, his lips, whatever he could reach, his hips beginning to pump almost out of his control.

"That's it," Elijah said, his hands clawing at Sean's back and shoulders. "More of that. Christ Sean, you're so fucking good." He paused for a second, gasping for air as Sean felt a trembling begin in the body below his.

"You're so big," Elijah continued. "God, I love your cock, so thick and hard. It would feel so good inside me. Will you fuck me?"

"Yes," Sean gasped. "Fuck, yes." He froze suddenly as his orgasm tore through him, splashing onto Elijah's belly. As the last spasm passed, he collapsed to one side of Elijah, panting helplessly.

"So good," Elijah purred, taking Sean's hand. "You're so good. Come on though, finish me." Sean's fingers curled around Elijah's cock, the heat and hardness of it making him twitch, even though he was thoroughly spent. He forced his eyes open watching his hand as it moved quickly, watching the muscles in Elijah's belly contract and tremble until suddenly with a heave of his hips, he came, his hands gripping Sean's wrist, holding him still as his back arched in pleasure.

"So good," Elijah said again, licking dry lips. "I knew you'd be good, the minute I saw you. Never thought I would find out." He smiled and raised his head, inviting the kiss, which Sean was happy to deliver, revelling in the sensation of Elijah's hand moving up and down his arm, pulling at the hair that grew there.

"What are we going to do?" Elijah asked. "I could lie here with you for ever, but you have so much to think about."

"I've done my thinking," Sean replied. "I'm not giving this up. Not giving you up. This makes me whole, Elijah, what we did here. You make me whole. I love my family, and things will be hard, but I'm not giving you up." Reluctantly he pulled away and looked around for his clothes. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Elijah said immediately, sitting up as well, and hugging his knees.

"Then that's all that counts. I have to go, talk to my wife, talk to my children."

"I don't want to break you up," Elijah said, looking hesitant and unsure, and Sean dropped to his knees pulling him into a strong embrace.

"You're not. You haven't broken anything. I've never been so sure of anything in my life. You've completed me. Trust me. I'll be back soon."

After a final glance back, he left the room and ran down the stairs.

When Sean was very young, he learned to stop wishing, because wishing was for other people, and so he grew up stolid and dependable. Sometimes people would smile behind their hands because he was unexciting. People always knew where they were with Sean; and the world can be a cruel place where dependability and honour become bywords for uninteresting and boring.

Later, when he was grown, Sean only ever wished for one thing. To be complete and happy and to find someone who would revel in his dependability and his honour, who would celebrate these traits.

Sometimes, he discovered, wishes do come true.

The End

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