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Elliott chuckles. “Believe me, sweetheart, I talk about myself far too often for you to not learn about me.” He settles under Chase’s hands, letting himself be cleaned, and watches with perhaps a little too much interest. He wants to learn those hands - and his body as well. It’s odd, really, this deep desire to memorize him - and yet not odd at all.

Elliott becomes attached instantaneously. It’s a life full of pain and awareness that he often pushes too far. Yet he can’t stop, even if he tries.

“Spoiling tends to suggest that you don’t give anything in return.” He thumbs over Chase’s cheek with a lazy sort of smile. “I enjoy giving gifts and making someone comfortable. I don’t require it, myself. It’d be your...company that I would enjoy.” Is he proposing a relationship similar to a sugar daddy? Yes, he is, he realizes suddenly. Would Chase be so opposed? He’d have to probe that thought later. “I imagine that spending time with you would feel far more valuable than any physical possession you could give me.”

Just You and Me || Chase & Elliott

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“Wayne,” Elliott murmurs, tasting it. A sweet name for a Southern boy. He can just imagine him riding on the back of a bull.

Perhaps riding something else. He lets himself be a little crude, even though the kid’s been nothing but sunshine to him, imagining how utterly erotic it might’ve been to see this drawling, polite boy saunter around a rodeo in tight jeans and a filthy shirt before he coaxed him into riding him in the back of a pickup truck.

There was a reason why Elliott was a city boy with no concept of what happened on farms - but his trope-loving mind could dream.

“I’d rather take other liberties with you.” He grins up at Wayne as he slides a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck and guides him down for a languid, unhurried kiss.

You've Got Mail | Wayne & Elliott

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He keeps expecting the other man to back out suddenly, blushing and stammering and apologizing, but inexplicably he drifts forward, removing his shirt on the way, and the quick tease they’ve had going on finally starts to bloom in his chest. He lets out a low groan of appreciation, dragging his gaze up the man’s body, and lets him settle solidly in his lap.

“Nothing’s too bold for me, handsome.” He touches the man’s stomach and nibbles on his own bottom lip as he grins. “That’s a prettier picture you’ve painted in my head than I do believe I’ve ever put on a page.”

Elliott lets his eyes skim upward until he meets the other man’s. “Do you wanna tell me your name? Or should I just call you whatever sweet thing comes to mind?”

You've Got Mail | Wayne & Elliott

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gemstudded‌:

     ⌜♥⌟  And smiled every time? Oh, be still, Julius’s beating and attention-seeking heart. To know he’s thought of– or, that the thought of him has passed and brought fond little smiles (which he can picture easily, considering Elliott’s gracing him with a few right now)– makes him want to preen, to project himself even more.

     It’s just how this goes. An easy equation. And he goes willingly when he finds more contact, even if it doesn’t last too terribly long once they sit down. Terrible, I need to cuddle more. He needs to do a lot of things more. 

     ⌜♥⌟  He sits, crossing his legs. “What, ‘really’? Do you think I’m hiding things, Elliott?” Because he is. And he will continue to. “My work has kept me up far too late to be healthy. I’ve adopted a cockatiel named Noah. I have a house, for better or worse.” That fits it, right? That’s all that needs to be said.

     “And you? Aside from your fantastic writing careers.”

Elliott chuckles and reaches out to tap Julius lightly under the chin, as if turning his face to see his own a little more. “A person as lovely as you has secrets by the dozen, my love. You can’t blame a man like me for suspecting.” Elliott knows how it is, after all. The more handsome he is, the less people think he’s hiding things.

The glories of looking as if he had his entire life perfectly put together.

“I have a house as well. Lovely roommate - sweet girl who owns a veterinarian’s clinic around the city. A paramour or two.” Elliott had been openly polyamorous since he was in high school; it was a fact he knew wouldn’t surprise Julius. “It’s a busy life, but I have no complaints. Especially now that I’ve seen you. I’ve missed you.”

We Meet Again || Julius & Elliott

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Elliott chews on his bottom lip, smile spreading even further.

Can’t you control yourself for one day?

Why bother?

Faces come to mind then. His odd proclivity for blondes, since moving to Harbour Pointe. Tucking Chase right against this counter from behind, sherbet melting in a bowl, fingers straying down his body. Would he mind if he knew? It gives him a long moment of hesitation.

They weren’t monogamous. And he’d just have to fuck Chase on his couch the next time he came over, wouldn’t he? Twice as hard. Purring sweet nothings into his ear. Making memories all over the damn house.

Elliott turns off the burner. He’ll make the hot chocolate later if the man still wants it - he still didn’t even know his name, Christ. He’ll get it later. Find out the right name to moan. He wanders to the couch and sits down in the center, spreading his legs far apart, and locks eyes with the man in the kitchen as he unbuttons his jeans and unzips them. “Tell me more about the couch situation.” He grins at him.

You've Got Mail | Wayne & Elliott

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Elliott is right about his assumptions. Looking away does alleviate some of that pressure in being looked at by someone so handsome, so extraneously kind, though he runs his hands over his own face in an attempt to quit looking so red and embarrassed in front of him. It’s hard to do when he’s unused to this attention, unsure still if he means what he says related to being gorgeous and intimidating. Elliott seemed to get along just fine, after all.

That second comment follows up, and Wayne’s breath is almost catching in his throat. Was there a gentlemanly thing to say in this kind of position? What did the rules dictate?

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Well. Well.

Elliott can barely believe the boy had it in him - or maybe he should’ve suspected all along. A pretty face like that can’t be as shy and naive as he was pretending to be. A spark of excitement stirs in his gut as he stares at the wall, seeing the sun reflecting off of it, rapidly doing math in his head to think of how long it’ll be before Julia gets home.

Enough. Enough time.

“You’re not thinking about how nice it might be to fuck me over this counter, are you, handsome?” he asks warmly, but with clear amusement on his tone, still not looking at him.

You've Got Mail | Wayne & Elliott

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Why do you think I asked you in, huh?

That… was a very good question. Wayne assumed it was out of genuine friendliness and an interest in getting to know him, but not a part of him assumed it might be because this man thought he was good looking. He’s not used to the reciprocated flattery, hand rubbing the back of his neck bashfully as he feels scrutinized under his gaze. Elliott was handsome, and knowing a handsome man like that thought he was gorgeous was… well. More than a little intimidating, but unfathomably ego-boosting.

Elliott turns around to continue slicing chocolate into fine little pieces, and Wayne’s suddenly appreciative that he’s not looking directly at him as he poses that question. Maybe it was meant to be flattering, but it’s so very unanticipated, he can’t help but stutter a little as he responds.

“Aw, it’s k-kind of you think so, but… I think I’m a little too shy for that,” Women tended to wait until the man made the first move, and Wayne wasn’t one to make moves. Even those that grew bolder often took his kindness as rejection, and he wasn’t about to inadvertently break someone’s heart with a one-night stand. Crushes tended to get hurt if he didn’t return their feelings, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt someone. “I guess I’m just not the kind of person someone sees rolling in the hay with.”

Was the man suggesting that Elliott stop with such playful innuendo? He glances over. He looks flustered, but not incredibly uncomfortable.

Worth pushing a little more, then, just to see.

“Maybe you’re so gorgeous that you intimidate them so they don’t ask.” He leaves the shavings there and sets a saucepan on the stove, his back to the man, pouring a measure of water into it and bringing down cocoa powder as well as he waits for the water to simmer.

“Myself, if I had a dram of hay around, I’d ask you to show me to the bottom of it.” He doesn’t so much as look over his shoulder to see his face. The man seems to take this better when he isn’t being looked at. “But, then, I suppose anything works just as well, don’t you? A bed, a couch, a table, a kitchen counter...” He rests both hands on the edge of one of those, head turned slightly to watch the saucepan. “One only needs to be a bit creative and confident, don’t you think?”

You've Got Mail | Wayne & Elliott

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Romance and erotica. The romance part seems a little fitting, given how complimentary he’s been so far, but he won’t admit that the erotica comes as a little bit of a surprise. Wayne’s been far too embarrassed to pick up any novels like that, but knowing that a renowned author lives in his town might just compel him– as a talking point the next time they meet, of course, which is an inevitability, he’s sure.

Then Elliott mentions liking hard things, and he’s biting his tongue, averting his gaze right back to the floor as he thinks it over. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a double entendre and he’s just taking it out of context, which seems a little more likely than the former. Another one of those compliments is passed his way, and Wayne blinks, trying to figure out if he just means his body-type in specific.

Lifting his shirt up to his collarbone, he leans over, examining the hard, taut lines of his own six pack, stretching all the way down to the V-line of his lower abdomen and the sharp curve of his hipbones underneath his clothes. He’s never really thought about it before, but he supposes he’s in better shape than a lot of people. He’s not big enough to reach Elliott’s level of muscularity, but he pats his own solid stomach as if appraising it himself before letting his shirt slip back over his body with that same embarrassed flush in his face.

“Well, I’ve never really thought about it, but farm work does take a lot of strength.” He muses, as if mostly to himself. “It’s so sweet of you to think so. I don’t think I could ever be as pretty as you, but it gives me something to strive toward. ♪”

For absolutely no reason the man lifts his shirt up, exposing his entire torso from the hips up, and Elliott stares unabashedly, eyebrows arched and gaze skimming down every bit that he can see.

He has the brief mental image of running his fingers down those sharp muscles before they vanish, hidden away by a shirt, and Elliott glances up at the man’s crimson red face - and watches him.

The knife gets set on the cutting board as he turns to face him better, leaning back into the counter with long legs stretched out in front of him. “You’re stunning. Really.” He breathes a chuckle and grins. “Why do you think I asked you in, huh? Not every day I get to see someone so gorgeous.”

If he keeps looking at him, he’s going to say something embarrassing, and he knows it, so he returns to the chocolate, finishing slicing it finely. “Farm work, huh? I imagine a man as chiseled as you found himself rolling in the hay with somebody pretty often, didn’t he?”

You've Got Mail | Wayne & Elliott

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Wayne slides into a chair as he watches Elliott disappear around the corner, waiting patiently and respectfully. With his elbows propped up on the table and his chin in his hands, he glimpses out the window for a few minutes, immersing himself in the way sunshine filters in through the curtains and makes him feel joyful. That is, until Elliott’s strolling back in with a wink and an outfit he just wasn’t expecting.

Maybe he should’ve prepared for it a little better. The towel left little to the imagination, but those jeans fit him a little too nicely and Wayne can feel his face getting hot. He looks like something from a novel he might’ve glimpsed over once or twice, covering his mouth with his hand in an effort to make that flustered blush a little less apparent. It’s hard not trying to be obvious about it– but his eyes keep drifting below the waist against his own will.

“Y-Yeah!” Okay, maybe that sounded a little too overzealous. Time to reign it in there, cowboy. Normally he would follow up with a compliment about something regarding his hair, or his eyes, but the most he can manage is a quieter “yeah” as he tries to keep it polite. It’s much, much easier to stare at the floor like there’s something interesting in the wood.

“Take your time with that, I’m in no rush.” As much as he looks forward to it, he really isn’t in a hurry and he’d hate for Elliott to feel like there’s any pressure. Maybe he likes spending time with this man. Maybe. “You’re a writer, mister Morgan? That’s so impressive! It takes a lot of dedication and perseverance to publish something. You must be a really hard-worker.” That’s right, Wayne, just change the subject. Maybe he won’t notice how flaming you are.

Well, if he’s going to insist, then Elliott will take all the time he needs...

He takes his time picking a mug first, keeping turned to the side so he can still glance over and see the man from where he’s standing.

“I am, actually. I write specifically romance and erotica.” He shoots him a bright grin. “Could say I have a fondness for the softer things in life...but, ah, I suppose I’m not sure how soft erotica is. Perhaps I like the hard things too.”

He selects a bar of semi-sweet chocolate. If he’s going to take his time, he’s going to make it worthwhile. He draws a cutting board out as well as a knife from the nearby knife block, then begins to finely chop the entire bar into small pieces, nearly shavings.

“I imagine you must be quite the hard worker too.” He looks him full in the eye, pausing with the knife, eyes sparking - and then lets his gaze flit down what he can see of the man’s torso. “You must be well built, if you can carry such massive sacks of mail from building to building, hmm?”

You've Got Mail | Wayne & Elliott

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Wayne has his doubts about Elliott’s reassurance that he interrupted him, given that he’s wrapped in a towel despite gesturing him into his home willfully. The door is shut as he makes his way inside the nicely decorated home, a polite hand on his back as he’s guided inside, though his face is still a little flushed being showered in compliments. He’s so very not used to this reciprocated treatment, he figures he must look a little dumb being so pleased.

“That’s mighty kind of you, Mister Morgan. You’re even nicer than this house, and this is a pretty nice house.” Admittedly, he feels a little out of place here, like Wayne knows he doesn’t belong. It was the simple life he was accustomed to, and the comparison between his farmhouse on the countryside and a home like this was vast. “Don’t think I’ve ever been in a place like this one.”

It’s that comment about having pretty eyes that makes him turn a lovely shade of tomato red, trying to force himself not to stutter a reply when his compliment makes him feel shy. Introversion had its downside sometimes, and now was one of those times, when he’s trying to make a polite first impression and avoid turning away a potential friend.

“Now I’d say whatever you’re most comfortable with.  This is your home, after all.” He bites his tongue for almost a whole three seconds. “Though I’d be a downright liar if I said you’re not eye candy.”

“Nice, isn’t it?” Elliott beams at him as he looks around. It’s true. He adores the place. He bought it mostly for the view, but that’s to be expected, he supposes.

The man seems to pinball back and forth from perfectly innocent to curiously flirtatious, and sure enough, the commentary about the house bounds quickly to him being called eye candy. And that makes Elliott give the man a very warm smile with his brow quirked.

“Give me two seconds.” Is he going to be rude? Absolutely. But it’s a joke, he reassures himself - one that they can both laugh off if he gets no positive response. He can’t help himself. They’re in Elliott’s home territory now, Julia isn’t due to be home until much later, and it might as well be as if the sun isn’t out at all. He’s irrepressible.

Elliott is gone in his bedroom for only a few moments. He returns, then, barefoot and shirtless only in a pair of fitted jeans that he rarely ever wears - but they make him look like the exact hero that’s graced most romance novel covers in the past, and thus he can’t resist.

“Better?” Elliott teases with a wink as he strolls toward his kitchen.

You've Got Mail | Wayne & Elliott

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He almost anticipates a sweet end to the conversation and a polite parting of ways, but he’s being invited inside and he’s trying to remember etiquette when it comes to meeting new people. It’d be rude to pass off his offer when it practically drips of generosity, and besides, maybe he wanted to learn more about him? Making friends was always something to look forward to, shyness aside.

And that mention of hot chocolate sweetens the deal considerably. It’s like Elliott hit a weak point almost immediately, and he’s swayed easily under the proposition, looking down at his feet with a bashful smile and a little bit of an embarrassed flush in his cheeks.

“I… well, I guess I don’t have any more deliveries to make,” A sheepish chuckle, like he knows he shouldn’t be here in the first place. There was no policy against showing up with mail, was there? Gosh, he hoped not. “And hot chocolate does sound sweet enough to tempt me. If it’s not too much trouble, I know I kind of interrupted you…”

He’s still in a towel, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep his eyes above the waist. His gaze might flicker to his chest once or twice, but he’s careful to maintain eye-contact even after those little slips, determined not to make himself out to be some kind of weird pervert. “But, gosh, you’re just so darn sweet. I have a little weakness for sweet things.”

Elliott laughs brightly as he steps back, making room for the man. “I was only pruning up in a bath. I see no reason why you should believe that you interrupted me. You most certainly did not.”

He shuts the door behind him and gently touches the man’s back to guide him further into the well-lit, spacious house. “I have a weakness for handsome men with smiles like sunshine, so I suppose we’re both feeling particularly weak in the knees, aren’t we?” he teases as he releases his touch on him and moves past.

“Shall I don a bathrobe, so as not to scandalous your pretty eyes, sir?” He looks over his shoulder at him, a hand on his towel, brow quirked?

You've Got Mail | Wayne & Elliott

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Elliott makes a sound regarding punishment -  a throaty sort of hum, more pleased than it should be - as he leans back lightly against the shower wall and lets Chase touch his fill. His hands feel incredible on his skin, and suddenly he’s restless, thinking about Chase touching him for hours even as Elliott begs to be kissed or relieved, and how sweet it would be if he was denied.

“I think I’d rather spoil you,” he confesses softly. It’s a natural inclination, and one he plans to take full advantage of. “I’ll take down your address later. We’ll see what I can send you to make you as thoroughly spoiled as possible.”

With his lids heavy with the simple pleasure of being touched and the warmth around them, Elliott sighs happily. “I take that as quite valuable information, thank you. And I intend to learn more. What you like. What you dislike. What hurts you, so that I may never do it. Who you’re fond of. What you seek to protect. Whatever you care to share with me, I’ll welcome it.”

Just You and Me || Chase & Elliott

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gemstudded‌:

     ⌜♥⌟  “Well, look at you!” They’ve grown, things have changed, and Julius is absolutely elated to hear that Elliott’s been taking charge of what he wants to do with his life. It’s wonderful to see others have their dreams come true, almost as much as it is to have your own dreams come true.

     Selfish? Surely not.

     “I moved out here as soon as I graduated, darling. Been climbing the ranks ever since, perhaps you’ve heard my name around?” A not-subtle probe to figure out just how far his reach has gone. His name is nothing to sniff at, that’s for sure. But he also craves the validation of people appreciating and knowing about his work. Now that is selfish.

     (But he’ll ignore the part of his brain telling him so.) “It’s wonderful, we both have names out in the world now!”

Elliott chuckles. Fashion isn’t something he checks regularly into, but he’d be lying if he said that Julius’s ambitious name hadn’t flitted to him every once and a while through these past few years. “Now, who else do you think I’d let design my suit for my next release other than you?” he drawls, reaching to gently tap the bottom of Julius’s chin affectionately. “I’ve heard of you and smiled every time I did.”

The reality of the situation - how they’ve been separated for so long, how they have so much to catch up on - hits Elliott fully then, and he studies Julius with clear fondness in his eyes for a few seconds before he guides him toward a bench with an arm around his waist.

“Come. Sit with me.” He sits and turns to face Julius as best as he can, leg crossed with his ankle on his knee, regarding him warmly. “How are you, then, really?”

We Meet Again || Julius & Elliott

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Activity Check 8/25 - PASSED

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coldbrewbae‌:

Fifteen minutes. That was enough time to spruce the place up a bit, wasn’t it? Rachel quickly washed the few dishes she had in the sink, then went around the apartment to make sure the bathroom and bedroom were in perfect condition. She didn’t want to make any assumptions, but the box in her closet beckoned to her so she set it at the foot of her bed for potential future use. 

She was lighting a third candle, making the room smell of various floral scents, when there was the knock at the door. Rachel stopped in the mirror one last time before walking over to the door and opening it with a smile. A chill ran up her spine with the cold air of the night sweeping in. 

“Oh geez, it’s cold! Come in, come in!” She ushered him inside of the apartment. He was just as tall and handsome as she remembered. “Did you want anything to drink? I’ve got lots of options~” 

As soon as the door opened, Elliott was being guided inside before he could so much as get a look at Rachel, and he chuckled, allowing it. “Oh, I barely felt it, it’s quite all right.” Harbour Pointe took to chills at night, yes, and Fall was swiftly approaching, but he didn’t enjoy complaining. Just a bit too much weakness for him there.

“I wouldn’t say no to the wine you offered before.” He finally glanced over to see her, skimming up and down. “You look lovely. I apologize if I inconvenienced you at all with the sudden invitation.” He stepped aside, making sure he was out of her way, and looked around the apartment.

“What smells so delightful?” He caught sight of a candle as soon as the words came out of his mouth, and he couldn’t help but laugh again. “My, setting the mood, are you? Or do you enjoy these on a nightly basis?”

Insomnia || Rachel & Elliott

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coldbrewbae‌:

Rachel was slightly surprised to see that he agreed. Sometimes, she’d offer but the other would insist that it was far too late at night or that it seemed uncouth, or some other excuse to not come over. Rachel realized the state of her apartment and bounced off of the bed, typing out a reply. 

[TXT] I live at the Terrace Apartments Rm 101. First floor, first room. [TXT] You don’t need to bring anything if you don’t want to! I have wine if you like wine!

She began to gather up any clothes that laid on the floor or on chairs and tossed them into her hamper. She stopped in the mirror to check herself out and decided that she was decent enough. Or perhaps, she should be less decent?

Terrace? Not too far away, then. Elliott tugged a button down and a fresh pair of trousers out of his closet, dressing as well as he always did, then typed back a reply.

[TXT] Give me fifteen minutes and I shall be there, beautiful.

He hesitated for just a moment by his nightstand, then snatched two condoms out of the drawer. Better safe than to make assumptions.

It was nearly 2:30am when he pulled up in front of the apartments, and he took a moment to sit back and stare up at the building and chuckle to himself. What was he doing? He wasn’t a college student anymore. Driving off to find a hookup was ridiculous - yet here he was. And he rather doubted Rachel would disappoint him. Still, he half expected to be turned away at the door, or to have it not answered at all, but...well. He’d see.

He made his way to the apartment, checking his phone to be sure he was at the right place, before he knocked, leaning against the doorframe.

Insomnia || Rachel & Elliott

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coldbrewbae‌:

Late nights were when Rachel thrived. She spent her mornings sleeping in when she had the chance (though working at a coffee shop meant for some early shifts here and there) and spent the middle of the day taking a nice nap. It left her energized for her evenings and nights that she hoped to fill with excitement and fun. 

Bored, she took a little photo shoot in her room with a new number she’d bought, hoping to elicit some compliments and the like after she’d sent it out to her select list of lovers and potentials. A few responses returned, some more pleasing than others, and when Rachel gets the text from Elliott, she giggles and responds back quickly, laying on her stomach on her bed with her feet swinging in the air. 

[TXT] Then come over, silly. I’m bored and all by myself :( I could use the company. 

She’d been anticipating her next encounter with Elliott since that night in the club, the both of them having talked about it, but never getting to the chance to actually plan a meeting. Now might be the chance they were both waiting for. 

The likelihood that he’d hear back from her was slim, he knew, and so he set the phone down to consider the rest of his night - but it vibrated on the surface of his desk almost immediately. Really? He knew for a fact that he had a number of lovers at her disposal, and he’d half-expected his text to fly to the bottom of the barrel. He plucked up his phone, his eyebrows lifting into his hairline when he saw her response.

Well, if a woman like her was going to so openly invite him over, then he wasn’t going to hesitate.

[TXT] I’d be more than happy to. Send me your address while I throw something on and I’ll be right there. [TXT] Shall I bring anything?

Insomnia || Rachel & Elliott