The kiss was gentle, tender and tinged with longing. Elliot tried to pour everything into it that he couldn’t put into words. Tyrell gasped softly at first, but quickly recovered, closing his eyes and responding in kind. Elliot could feel his desire, need and hope with each gentle flick of his tongue, and soft moan.
Their kisses before had been hungry and untamed, but this felt different. Elliot knew it wasn’t going to lead anywhere, this wasn’t the right time, and neither of them was in the right frame of mind.
‘I’m so confused. I feel like I’ve lost everything,’ Tyrell’s words were almost swallowed by Elliot’s mouth.
‘You haven’t,’ Elliot breathed onto Tyrell’s lips, and the other man shivered.
For both of them, their previous kisses had been about filling a desperate need. They’d been driven by instinct and charged by the fear coursing through their veins. This kiss however, was the polar opposite: intuitive, sensory. They explored each other, lips working slowly and precisely, testing angles and pressures. Hands gently roamed, fingers finding purchase in each other’s hair, trailing along collarbones, and slipping under clothes to make contact with skin.
They were getting to know each other again, noting what made the other shiver, moan and squirm. It was a kiss filled with promises and reassurances. Tyrell found it overwhelming, the feeling of love and safety he found in Elliot’s touch. He opened his eyes, to stare at Elliot, awestruck.
Elliot caressed his cheek gently and whispered raggedly, ‘I thought you knew.’
Tyrell smiled softly, eyes suddenly downcast. ‘I’d only ever hoped.’ His dam finally broke then, and he reclaimed Elliot’s mouth, kissing him with renewed passion. As though a great weight was being lifted from him, he finally allowed himself to feel the things he’d been swallowing down. The feelings which had gently simmered deep inside him now bubbled dangerously under his skin.
He’d repressed this desire for so long, for so many reasons- his marriage, commitment, status. But now, he had none of those things, he’d been wiped clean. For the first time, instead of terror, this thought brought him excitement. Not only was he allowed to want this now, but he knew that Elliot wanted it too.
He broke away from the smaller man just long enough to gasp out, ‘I’ve wanted this for so long Elliot. You’ve always had me.’
Fire ripped through Elliot’s insides at his words and the weight of their sincerity. He groaned from deep inside his throat, and knew that their restraint wasn’t going to last much longer.
Tyrell had obviously had the same thought, as he was now lifting Elliot gently, and moving him toward the bed.
They pawed clumsily at each other’s clothes, and before Elliot knew it, they were lying naked, roughly pressed against each other. Legs entwined, and hands roaming, they ground against each other messily. For a long time, neither of them moved to take things further. There was no intent behind their movements, further than wringing as much pleasure out of each other as possible.
Both drunk with pleasure and lost in their delirious ministrations, Elliot was the first to break the spell. He needed more, no longer able to withstand the fiery ache he felt within him. He wanted feel Tyrell move inside him. He wanted to feel complete.
He pulled away from Tyrell and looked him deep in the eyes. The other man wordlessly nodded, as if able to read his mind. With quick, expert fingers, Tyrell got them both ready, and before Elliot knew what was happening, he had slipped inside him and was grinding a gentle rhythm. The sensation seemed to be almost too much for Tyrell, who groaned, long and deep, looking at Elliot with reverence. Elliot too felt overwhelmed as the initial discomfort turned to intense pleasure, and he began to move, falling into time with Tyrell’s thrusts. For several seconds all Elliot’s brain could register was the sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by Tyrell’s moans.
What Elliot found amazing about being with Tyrell was that it managed to simultaneously relax him, yet also set his nerves ablaze. Like the man himself, sex with Tyrell was a beautiful mess of contradictions that both excited and confused him.
Elliot kept his head turned, not wanting to break eye-contact with Tyrell. He wanted to watch him lose control; see it in his light, expressive eyes. He knew that Tyrell felt things intensely, passionately- so much so, he sometimes scared himself. Right now, his bright blue eyes were filled with hunger.
Elliot sent him a wordless plea and he nodded mutely, picking up the pace as he did so. Elliot gasped as he slammed into him, harder and faster.
Now, Tyrell’s eyes reflected the conflict he felt as he fought to let go of his last remaining feelings of guilt. No matter how much he wanted this, he still felt as if he was betraying Joanna, his family, and his old life. But at the same time it felt bittersweet. As if being with Elliot was sealing his fate, and accepting that everything he once knew was gone. Elliot saw relief, pleasure and desire, but also sadness, uncertainty and grief.
He whispered a reassuring mantra which washed over Tyrell comfortingly. ‘Tyrell I need you…I need you…I want you so badly…I want you.’
Tears swam in Tyrell’s eyes and he smiled, joy dancing across his face. He was speeding closer to his release, Elliot could feel it as he drove deeper, digging his fingernails into Elliot’s skin. Elliot shuddered with pleasure as Tyrell hit the sweet spot deep inside him. The other man smiled again, before being overcome by his release, his face contorting with ecstasy. His deep, guttural moans and final sharp thrusts felt like an electric jolt to Elliot’s insides, and Elliot frantically stroked his own cock, suddenly desperate for release as well. As if being cheered on by Tyrell’s ragged gasps for breath, Elliot came seconds later.
Reluctantly they separated, falling ungracefully next to each other on the bed. Sweaty and sated they lay for several minutes with nothing but the sound of each other’s breathing filling the air.
When he was able to catch his breath Elliot rolled over to curl up against Tyrell’s side. Tyrell responded by putting a gentle arm around Elliot’s shoulders.
Elliot found himself hoping for a lot of things. He hoped that he’d eased some of Tyrell’s pain. He hoped that Tyrell could see that while the rest of his life had been ripped away from him, Elliot was still there; his ‘one constant in a sea of variables’. That phrase rang true, now more than ever.
Elliot remembered how he’d felt the day he’d stood at his father’s grave. The day he’d realised that so much of his world had been his own fabrication. He’d felt gutted, torn apart, devastated. He could only imagine that Tyrell was feeling like that, but on a much larger scale. He suspected that Tyrell’s pain was a raw, burning ache that tore through him, leaving him feeling sick and desolate.
He hoped that in the midst of whatever emptiness and uncertainty Tyrell saw stretched out before him, he saw Elliot too. Because whatever future Tyrell now had, Elliot was sure he wanted to be a part of it.
Lastly, he hoped that Tyrell knew that he was loved. Elliot couldn’t speak for anyone else in Tyrell’s life, but he knew how *he* felt about him. It had taken him a long time to decipher his weird mess of feelings towards the man, but looking at the facts now, it was obvious. He was undeniably attracted to him; he’d proven that many times now. He obviously cared deeply for him, given that the foremost thought in his mind since he’d woken up in Tyrell’s car had been finding him, and making sure he was okay.
And he knew he must love him, based on the fact that when Tyrell had been standing on the edge of that rooftop, it had been the single-most terrifying moment of Elliot’s life.
Elliot knew that life wasn’t binary, that feelings were never black and white. But he also knew that sometimes even the intangible could feel real to the point of defying all logic. Love, though an unquantifiable concept, could strike you in such a way that you felt it like a physical pain. Sometimes you *could* find certainty in the uncertain, and logic in the illogical. You just had to trust your instincts. This was where people differed from computers, he supposed.
The idea of losing Tyrell had been unimaginable, and Elliot’s heart clenched painfully as he remembered watching him inch closer to the edge.
He propped himself up to get a better look at Tyrell’s face, and saw that he was sleeping peacefully. His face slack, and features soft, he was such a contrast to the distraught, wild-eyed man who’d stood before Elliot just over an hour ago. It was like Elliot had flipped a switch.
Elliot found it crazy to think that one small action could completely change the course of a person’s life. If he hadn’t made it onto the roof in time…he shuddered at the thought.
He wasn’t stupid enough to think that he’d magically fixed everything. It would take Tyrell a long time to heal, but the important thing was that Elliot had made him realise that he didn’t have to do it alone. And right now that was all that mattered.