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headfullofpresley · 2 years

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Oceans Apart (Chapter 5)

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 7,5K

Summary: With Red putting ideas in his head and you canceling on him for the holidays, Elvis flees Germany to see you. What he hopes to be a Christmas away from prying eyes, turns into so much more.

Warning(s): angsty, time jump, Red being an asshole, both Elvis and reader having a small breakdown, mentions of The Colonel, sweet talking The Colonel (guess that's a warning? despite us all hating him, I still want him to be human in this series), alcohol consumption, strong language, smut; oral (m. receiving), kissing after oral, fluff.

A/N: another emotional rollercoaster, leggoooo! enjoy bbys <3

Missed part 4? Read it here!

oceans apart playlist | masterlist

“I never thought a man could feel so small, you never look at me like I'm a liability; I bet you'd think I've never been at all. Little by little, inch by inch, we built a yard with a garden in the middle of it and it ain't much, but it's a start. You got me swaying right along to the song in your heart and a face to call home, a face to call home; you got a face to call home.”

“Sorry Elvis, I can’t make it. My boss really needs me this time of the year and my mother has something planned on Christmas day,”

Elvis’ fingers clenched viciously around the telephone cord at the sound of those words leaving your mouth, a heavy feeling settling in his chest.

You have been traveling from Amsterdam to Bad Nauheim for a year now and just like last year, your boyfriend wanted to spend the holidays with you. This would be the second Christmas he would have with you in a long time and since he would leave early next year, it would be the last one in a while. The two of you haven’t exactly spoken of what your relationship will be like once he’d go back to the States, but he wasn’t risking to lose another minute with you.

“B-But.. you have two Christmas days over there. Can’t you spend the second one with your parents?”

You had told him all about the differences of holidays between your country and his and while he thought the idea of having a second Christmas day over there was silly, he was grateful for it now. That meant you could visit both him and your parents… right?

His happiness wasn’t long lived, as you rained on his parade once more when you spoke into the phone.

“I wish, El, but I can’t. I’m so sorry..”

He sighed deeply, letting go of the cord as he put his hand up to his forehead, rubbing at it in frustration. He had to focus on his breathing for a few seconds to not aim that frustration at you, because even though he couldn’t understand why you weren’t doing everything in your might to spend Christmas with him, he really was not in the mood to fight with you over the phone.

“Okay,” he eventually mumbled, leaning his elbows on his knee as he planted his face in the palm of his hand. “I’ll call you again later, gotta go eat,”

“I love you, Elvis,”

“I love you too,” although he didn’t hesitate to say it back, the words tasted bitter on his tongue.

He loved you, but in this moment, he didn’t like you.

Red stood outside the door of Elvis’ bedroom, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. Elvis looked up, sighing softly. “She doesn’t seem to care much,”

“She does, she’s just busy,” Elvis barked at his friend, walking down the stairs, but Red didn’t give up easily and followed.

“Just give it up already, EP. We’re going back home soon, you really think she’ll follow you?”

Elvis rolled his eyes as he walked into the kitchen, ignoring the male behind him and kissing his grandmother on the cheek instead, taking the plate of food she handed to him. Dodger kept her ears perked, but her mouth closed.

“It’s none of your business,” he mumbled, trying not to let the frustration that was still tugging at his heart be too obvious. He didn’t want to show too much of his emotions, not to Red.

“You’re being unrealistic, Elvis, and you know it. It’ll never work between you and her,” Red called out after him, quickly following his friend into the dining room. “She’s probably screwing some guy as we speak,”

It rolled off Red’s tongue in a mumble, not meant to be heard by Elvis or anyone, but Elvis heard it. Oh, he heard it.

He nearly threw his plate on the table, spilling some food as it twirled around with a loud noise that startled his father and some other people who were sat at the table. “You know what, Red? I think it’s time for you to leave,”

“What?” Red scoffed in disbelief.

“Pack up your shit and get out of my house. I’ll make sure you can catch a flight home in the morning,”

“EP, you’re not serious,”

“Do I look like I’m joking?!” he yelled, spreading his arms as if it was not obvious he was furious by now.

Nobody at the table spoke a word, even Vernon was wise enough to keep quiet.

“You’re picking this bitch over me?”

Red realised the very wrong choice of his words and nobody was surprised when Elvis landed a punch across his friend’s jaw, making him stumble backwards a little. Elvis wanted to go in for more, but was held back by his father who grabbed onto his arms.

“Get out of my house or I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill you,”

Red grabbed onto his jaw, moving it side to side as he fixed his jacket and ran up the stairs to pack up his things and do as he was told.

Elvis’ appetite was completely gone and he left the dining room without a word, locking himself in his bedroom. Once more, he picked up the phone and dialed your number.

He knew you’d never cheat on him. You were as loyal as a dog, but Red put the thought in his head now and he couldn’t forget about it.

You loved him, you would never do anything to hurt him. You would never dare break his heart – not you, never you.

But then why didn’t you pick up?

Red left Germany whether he wanted to or not, but Elvis couldn’t forget about what happened. You still weren’t picking up and while he knew it was Christmas Eve and you were probably busy like you had said, he couldn’t sit around and pretend to spread Christmas joy among his friends and family.

“You’ll get in so much trouble when they find out you’re gone,” Charlie who had come over from his base in Butzbach for the holidays whispered, leaning his arm against the open car door. Elvis chuckled softly, adrenaline thick in his veins as he fastened his seatbelt.

He knew Charlie was right – it was nearing midnight and everyone inside were still in the middle of celebration. Elvis took his chance as he gradually saw his friends getting more and more intoxicated and when his father went upstairs to go to bed. Nobody but Charlie knew about the packed bag he had in his trunk and where he was going.

“Not if you won’t tell them,”

“I won’t, you know that, but you might not get your last leave in February,” Charlie reminded him, stepping away from the vehicle as Elvis closed the door. He rolled the window down and smiled at his nervous friend.

It wasn’t like he was running away from the army. After Christmas, he would be back and doing what was expected of him, but right now he just needed to get away from… here.

From this house and the people inside of it, from the screaming fans outside the gates every single day.

He loved the attention and support, he really did, but he needed to see you. He needed to see what was going on and if you had met someone else, he wanted to suckerpunch that asshole in the face.

He didn’t care about February right now, he just wanted to get through December and he wanted to do so with you by his side.

“You got the address, right?” Charlie asked as Elvis started the engine, nodding his head.

Charlie knew that anything he would say wouldn’t matter, because he couldn’t change Elvis’ mind. He was very aware of how strong his friend’s feelings were for you. While he had only met you a few times because he was stationed in another city, he felt like he had known you for years already because Elvis spoke so much and so fondly of you.

“If they ask you where I went, you don’t know anything. Got it?”

Charlie nodded his head, sighing deeply as he took a step away from the car and watched Elvis drive further and further away from the house, rounding the corner and disappearing out of sight completely.

The four hour drive to Amsterdam felt like forty instead because he was high on adrenaline and emotions but thanks to it being in the dead of the night, the city was nearly deserted of cars. He found your address with ease, parking his car in front of the building as he looked up out of the window. There were no lights on in any of the apartments, which meant you’d be either asleep or not home at all.

Taking the risk to wake you out of your slumber, he got out of his car and grabbed his bag, ringing the doorbell like a maniac after he walked up to the building.

You were sound asleep, sleep that you very much needed because you had been working your ass off these past few days just so you could have Christmas off and drive to Germany tomorrow to surprise Elvis.

Ofcourse you weren’t going to miss spending the holidays with your boyfriend, but you wanted it to be a surprise. Dodger and Vernon were the only ones who were in on the whole plan and you really thought you could pull this off.

You didn’t even think about Elvis showing up at your doorstep at 4 in the morning.

With your heart beating frantically, you stumbled out of your bed and to the front door, pressing the button to speak through the intercom.

“It’s me,” he immediately said as he heard your voice coming through.

You quickly buzzed him in, not wanting to keep him out there in the cold and wanting to know what the hell he was doing here.

Unlocking and opening your front door, you peeked your head outside and gasped as you saw him stepping out of the elevator and making his way to you.

“Elvis, what are you doing here?” you questioned in a whisper, pulling him inside your apartment before closing the door behind you.

He dropped his bag to the floor and grabbed your hand, pulling you into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. Nuzzling his face in your neck, he rubbed your back through the material of your nightie. But as his shoulders jolted and he let out a sob against your skin, you frowned and immediately wrapped your arms around him.

He was an idiot. For coming here with the fear that he would catch you in the act with another guy. But it wasn’t the only reason why he was crying – it was the fight with Red, the loss of his mother, having to leave you behind again soon.

He was tired and he was scared, not knowing what his life will be like once he’d go back home.

People around him were trying to make him forget about you. Red, The Colonel…

He wanted to continue his career, ofcourse he did, but would it be worth anything if you wouldn’t be there?

“Hey, come here,” you cooed, walking him over to your couch. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You knew Elvis wasn’t the type to let out his emotions a lot and you also knew that pushing him to talk wouldn’t get you anywhere. The two of you were similar and you respected his boundaries just as much as he respected yours. But his chest was so tight that it was difficult to breathe and for once, he didn’t feel ashamed to cry.

For once, he wanted to let it all out.

And you let him.

You let him talk about his mother and about his fight with Red. About the worries he had about his career and the fact that his manager didn’t like him ‘fooling’ around with his ex-girlfriend. Elvis had no idea why he was so adamant, but The Colonel would get heated every time they spoke about it.

“I thought you were cheating on me,” he blurted out as he had cried most of his tears, his eyes red and puffy as he looked at you from his spot on the couch. You had turned on some lights in your home, making tea in the small open spaced kitchen.

“So much for trust,” you grinned at him, knowing that Red put the idea in his head because he just told you all about it. Elvis laughed softly, sniffing as he got up and walked into the kitchen. Putting his chin on your shoulder as he stood behind you, he kissed your cheek.

“I know you would never do that to me. I feel like an idiot for letting Red get in my head,”

“Red is the idiot here and you did good by sending him home,” you told him, not holding back anymore with your dislike toward his friend. You slowly turned around as you handed him a steaming mug, which he thanked you for by planting a soft kiss on your lips. “And you thought right – I’d never do that to you, Elvis. I love you,”

He smiled at your words. When he said it back this time, there was no bitterness on his tongue.

“Now, how much trouble will you be in when you get back?” you grinned at him, blowing into your tea.

He laughed softly, slipping one arm around your waist to hold you firmly against him. “A lot, but right now that doesn’t matter because all I want is to be here with you,”

You smiled as he put his mug on the counter, stealing yours to put it behind you as well. He wound his other arm around your waist, folding his hands together at the small of your back as he looked around at your apartment.

“Why don’t you have a tree?” he questioned as he noticed the lack of Christmas decorations, raising an eyebrow at you. You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Because I wasn’t supposed to be here for Christmas, but someone ruined his surprise,”

“You should’ve known you can never fool me,” he grinned. If he wouldn’t be standing in your kitchen right now, he would feel more guilty about ruining your plan, but for him it worked out better in the end.

Last Christmas was fun, but the only alone time he’d have with you was when you’d be locked away with him in his bedroom. He was looking forward to this Christmas way more than he had last time – this time, it was going to be just you and him.

No one around to bother them, no need to be quiet.

This Christmas, he could love you without having to be quiet or nervous that someone would barge into the room without knocking.

“Let’s get a tree,” he said, letting go of you to walk back in the living area, pointing at an empty spot next to the TV. “One that fits right here,”

You picked up your mug, smiling lovingly at your boyfriend as he was standing there in your living room. A place you never dared picture him in.

But it made your heart skip a beat. It was a sight you never wanted to forget because it felt so normal.

Standing there with a small twinkle in his eyes, looking around your apartment as he was already imagining what the place would look like with decorations. You could see that the small breakdown he just had in your arms had lifted a weight off his shoulders and you wanted to keep him like this.

You wanted to keep him here, away from prying eyes that only looked his way because of the face he was blessed with. Away from the cruel, cold world.

“Fine by me,” you smiled, sending a wink his way. He laughed as he walked back over to you, attacking your face with kisses.

“Merry Christmas, baby,”

You smiled, grabbing his face to kiss him with a soft laugh. Both of you had forgotten about your tea once more, letting the drinks turn cold as you pulled him in your bedroom.

The next day, it seemed like you and Elvis weren’t the only ones doing last minute Christmas shopping. The stores and streets were busier than you expected, but you still made sure Elvis looked somewhat unrecognizable.

He wasn’t too happy about the sunglasses you made him wear in the middle of winter while the ground was covered with snow, but he could deal with the weird looks he got. Although, that wasn’t the reason why he was getting stares.

It was the headscarf you neatly tied around his head. Yup, definitely the scarf.

“I look like a fool,” he gritted through his teeth as you were paying for the tree, laughing at his misery.

“Well I’m sorry Elvis, I don’t feel like getting mobbed on the street,” you whispered back as you waved at the cashier, letting him haul the tree out of the store you bought it from. Every time you looked at him, you could see he was glaring at you from underneath the glasses and it only made you laugh harder.

Despite not being too fond of his disguise, he was fond of you and couldn’t help but laugh along. Still, he made sure to be quick as he dragged the tree to your apartment which was, thank God, a short walk from the stores.

Elvis got what he wanted as he placed the tree in the spot he discovered last night. He threw the glasses on the couch, tearing the scarf from his head and taking off his coat which he discarded on the couch as well. As if on automatic pilot, you picked up after him and hung both your coats by the front door, chuckling as he looked at you expectantly.

“The decorations are in my closet, somewhere on the top shelf,”

He nodded excitedly, kicking his shoes off as he wandered in your room. Because he felt so comfortable around you, he felt comfortable in your home as well, moving around the place as if he had been living here for as long as you had. As if he lived here in general.

The few days he had left here with you, he liked to pretend he did.

He opened the double doors of your closet, reaching for the first pair of stacked boxes. As he lowered them, they slipped out of his grip and tumbled onto the floor, the sound muffled by the carpet in your bedroom.

Sighing softly, he got through his knees and picked up the pair of heels that belonged to one of the boxes, placing them back in it before closing the lid. He shoved it aside and picked up the other box that was laying upside down, spilling the contents of it on the floor as he lifted it up.

He didn’t want to snoop through your things, but something in his brain was telling him to pick up the pictures scattered in front of him and look at them. He lacked self control, his curiosity getting the best of him as he grasped one of them up from the floor and turned it around to look at it.

Three people were in it, two that he recognized.

Your father Joseph and… his manager.

The Colonel.

His heartbeat picked up, thumping in his ears as he dropped the photo to the floor. He reached out for the others, looking through every single one of them and there it was.

The truth, laying in the palm of his hand.

You must’ve been about five or six in the picture, the surroundings indicating that this picture was taken in a zoo or park. He realised it didn’t matter, his fingers clenching around the photo as he looked at the face of the man who’s arm you were sitting on, your tiny head laying on his shoulder.

Not tainted by stress or worries, Elvis recognized the man’s face nonetheless. It was the same man he had been working with for the past few years, the man that promised him the world, the man he talked to over the phone every single day these last two years.

Unless Tom Parker had a twin, which Elvis very highly doubted, there was no question that this was actually him.

Before he had time to look at the newspaper cut outs and the envelope that were on the floor as well, you walked into the room to see what was taking him so long.

You noticed the boxes with Christmas decorations sitting in their spot in your wardrobe, Elvis on his knees with those pictures in his hands. Pictures and other things that nobody was supposed to see.

“Y/N, what is this?” he questioned, his voice coming out in a mere whisper as he looked up at you.

He didn’t stop you as you grasped the picture out of his hand and got on the floor to collect the things up from the floor, shoving them back in the box.

“It’s nothing, just old family pictures. Were you looking through my stuff?”

“N-No, I wasn’t.. I thought it were the decorations, they fell and I-“

“Well, they aren’t and I really don’t appreciate you looking through things that are private, Elvis,”

He didn’t like the way you spoke his name in this moment. As if he was a stranger, intruding in your home, in your life.

And he didn’t like the tension that lingered around you like a storm cloud, shaky hands picking up the envelope from the carpet to shove it to the bottom of the box.

As you picked up a few pictures, he stole one out of your hands with The Colonel in it. You looked at him, frowning as you tried to take it back but he pulled his arm backwards.

“What are you doing with these pictures of The Colonel? And why are you in them as well?”

Confusion washed over your face as you dropped some pictures in the box, the way he was looking at you making you nervous.

“The Colonel? El, that’s my uncle,”

As those words left your mouth, he froze. He thought back about the pictures Adam and Hanna showed him, of you sitting on Santa’s lap. He had now figured out why those eyes had looked so familiar to him and for a second, he didn’t know what to do with all of this information.

This must be the reason why his manager was so firm with him when it came to you. This must be the reason why Parker wanted him to break things off with you so badly.

Elvis sat there as he stared at you, lowering his arm as the picture fluttered to the floor.

“Y-Your uncle?” he stuttered, sitting with his back against the end of your bed now. You slowly reached forward to take the picture away from him, putting it in the box.

“Yes, my uncle. Andreas,” you nodded, looking down at the smiling faces of your family looking back at you. If only you could build a time machine and go back in time. If only things would’ve gone differently.

If only your uncle hadn’t made such a big mistake, if he even made one.

“His name is Tom,” Elvis looked at you, pulling his knees up to lean his arms on them. You shoved the box away from you and crawled closer to Elvis, sitting back as you looked at him.

“Tom Parker. He’s my.. he’s my manager, baby,”

“His name is Andreas van Kuijk,” you told him and Elvis realised you were telling the truth. Not only because he was aware of you having that same name, but he had just seen the pictures with his own two eyes.

You were trying to stay calm. Ofcourse Elvis told you about his manager before but he had never showed you any pictures or whatsoever, you had only heard stories about a man with a name that didn’t match that of your uncle’s. If what he was telling you was true, that would mean you were one step closer to coming in contact with your uncle.

You found your uncle.

“What is going on, Y/N? I don’t.. I don’t understand. Parker is from the States, just like I am. He served, for crying out loud,”

You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair. You had no idea how Andreas managed to build a live for himself in a different country, but you couldn’t tell him everything.

You couldn’t tell him that his manager was a possible murderer. It was something you did not want to believe yourself.

“There’s not much I can tell you,” you moved over to sit next to him, leaning your back against your bed as you stretched your legs in front of you. “Our family was always close. He never missed a birthday or holiday until one day he… he was just gone. Didn’t leave a note, didn’t call..”

While you were partly lying to Elvis right now, there was truth to your words as well. In your experience, Andreas up and left without a single word. He never called your father or aunt and he kind of just… disappeared.

Your family gave up on looking for him after a while, realising he was not coming back. At least, your father did. He never spoke about his brother anymore and would change the subject whenever you asked about him, because you’d ask questions that your father didn’t have the answers to.

That is what you had always thought. But now you were starting to think that perhaps your father did know the real reason for Andreas fleeing the country. Maybe you weren’t the only person who knew of the existence of the letter.

“I want to talk to him, Elvis,”

He turned his head to look at you, slowly wrapping an arm around your shoulder to push you into his side. He nodded as he kissed the top of your head before gently leaning his chin on it, his arm rubbing your upper arm soothingly.

Hell, Elvis wanted to talk to the man himself as well. Needed to talk to him. He had a million questions right now, ones that he didn’t know if he would get an answer to but he was going to ask them during his next phone call nonetheless.

He didn’t know how The Colonel would respond when he’d drop this news into his lap like a bomb, but he couldn’t keep quiet about this. It was too big, too serious, to be shoved under the rug.

Not only for himself, but for you. If the man had a good story for why he was living in another country under a false name, then perhaps Elvis could forgive and forget, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he wouldn’t help you reunite with your family.

“Come with me,” he said, pulling his head back in his neck as he looked down at you. “In March, come with me. We’ll fly out together and you can talk to him.. face to face,”

You looked up at him, quickly wiping a tear that rolled down your cheek away. He smiled softly at you, pressing his forehead against yours.

“But my job and my house…”

“I can try and talk to your boss. You can keep your apartment, I’ll pay the rent every month so you can go back any time you’d like,”

Obviously, he hoped you wouldn’t want to go back at all once you’d set foot in Graceland but he couldn’t exactly force you to stay if you did not want to.

You knew this could either turn out to be a very bad idea, or a very good one. You could lose your job, having to start all over again in an industry that had the tendency to be ruthless. But this was Elvis that was asking you this, giving you the chance to meet your uncle again after so many years.

You missed Andreas and you had so many things to ask him. And the thought of being away from Elvis for God knows how long after you spend almost every weekend with him for the past two years had your heart clenching uncomfortably in your chest.

To find the answers you were looking for, you had to leave your life in The Netherlands behind and follow your boyfriend back to America.

“Okay,” you nodded, closing your eyes as he cupped your face. “I’ll go with you,”

This wasn’t the Christmas neither you or Elvis hoped it would be, but it sure was going to be one that would shape your entire future.

Not only the one that you hoped Elvis would be in, but the future of your family as well. The only thing you could do was hope it would be for the best.

Not wanting to let this Christmas go to a total waste, Elvis and you had decided to decorate the tree and celebrate the holiday like you usually would. You both loved Christmas and now that you had the chance to spend it with him alone, you weren’t going to take the time for granted.

“What is he like?” you asked him as you hung an ornament in the tree, the branches hiding your face from his view as he stood on the other side.

You felt awkward asking it.

He felt guilty answering it.

“A hard working man,” Elvis spread out some red sparkly garlands through the tree, stepping closer to you so the decoration would be placed evenly. “Like any Dutch person that I know,” his eyes met yours, small playful grin on his face. “he looks and acts tough, but I believe he has a small heart. Our personalities clash at times but I know he only wants best for me. I owe him a lot,”

You smiled softly, picking up another glass ball to hang it in the tree. “He does have a small heart. He used to buy me everything my father didn’t, spoiling me. Sometimes too much,” your smile widened at the memory, hoping you could swallow down the lump that was thickening in your throat. “He loved the holidays. He embodied the role of Santa every single year, wouldn’t take off the costume until my mother complained his fake beard was hanging in the food during dinner,”

Elvis laughed softly, thinking back about the picture’s he had seen of you and your uncle dressed as Santa. His manager was still very fond of the holidays and of the role of the man who spread cheer and gave out gifts.

Elvis always figured he just liked having the ladies sit on his lap.

“He still does,” your boyfriend told you. “But the girls on his lap are our size now,”

You laughed, but Elvis didn’t miss the way the melody of the sound he loved so much strained, tears stinging in your eyes. He immediately reached out to you, engulfing you in his embrace as he rubbed your back to comfort you.

“What if he doesn’t wanna see me?”

Elvis was conflicted for a second, not knowing what to say. He was sure The Colonel knew that you spend three years of your life living in Memphis, around the same time Elvis started working with him. Elvis had gushed about you plenty to his friends and everyone around him back then and although The Colonel hadn’t seen you face to face back then, Elvis was now positive that the man knew exactly who you were this whole time.

He had no idea what the reaction of his manager would be once you’d show up at his door, but he couldn’t think of a good reason for him not wanting to see you.

“Ofcourse he does,” he assured, placing his hands on your shoulders to create some distance so he could look at you. His hands moved to your face, thumbs repeatedly caressing your tears away. “He is your family, baby. I don’t know what his reason for leaving was, but you two are connected through blood. Whatever happened, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,”

Elvis’ words did calm you down a little, but you couldn’t help but overthink the whole thing. The thought of facing your uncle for the first time in years had nerves swimming in the pit of your stomach.

“I don’t want to do it alone. Seeing him again, I mean. I need you there,”

He smiled, nodding as he kissed your forehead before pulling you back into his chest, swaying you side to side.

“I will be there every step of the way,” another kiss was planted on the top of your head, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Now let’s put this little angel on top of the tree, get changed and cook dinner like the old married couple we’ll be someday,”

You laughed softly at his words, pulling back as you nodded and wiped some tears away with the sleeves of your sweater. He pecked your lips with a smile before taking the Christmas angel out of the box and handing it to you.

“Let’s do it together,” you smiled, grabbing his hand to put it on top of yours. You stood on your toes, reaching the top of the tree to put the ornament on it.

The tree wasn’t big or fancy since there weren’t much options left this last minute, but the fact that you and Elvis had decorated it together made it so much more special.

You’d pick this tree over any other overly decorated tree, no doubt about it.

Elvis had packed a suit in his hurry of sneaking out with the plan to come and see you. He wanted this Christmas to be special and despite the shocking news, he was still going to make sure it would be enjoyable.

He was already starting on dinner, sipping on the cheap store bought wine you got today and dancing around the kitchen to Frank Sinatra’s Christmas record while making sure he wouldn’t burn anything.

He had accompanied Dodger in the kitchen enough times to somewhat know what he was doing.

Despite the music filling up your small apartment, his ears still perked when your bedroom door opened and you stepped into the living room.

He had to do a double take, the wine glass nearly slipping from his fingertips as he halted the swaying of his body. He had seen you in a dress before, but never a dress like this.

“I think we should skip dinner,” he breathed out, letting his eyes wander down your curves which were more visible than usual because of the tight fitted piece of clothing.

The deep bordeaux color and the velvet material made him fantasize about how it’d feel underneath his fingertips, but it was the off shoulder style that showed off your skin that made him want to sink his teeth into your soft flesh. A gold butterfly pin rested just atop your left breast, a pair of black heels making your legs that were hidden underneath black tights seem like they would go on for miles.

Oh, he was losing his mind.

“Shut up,” you giggled as you walked into the kitchen, kissing his lips before stealing his drink out of his hand and taking a sip of it.

“If this is how you’ll grow old, I can’t wait,” he grinned as he slipped one arm around your waist, pressing his digits against the fabric of the dress.

It was as soft as he imagined it to be.

Taking the wine glass out of your hand, he put it on the counter and pressed his palm against yours, lacing your fingers together.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, runaway,”

He laughed at your words, giving you a playful roll of his eyes as he flattened his hand against the small of your back, pressing you against his chest.

“Any fool can look good in a suit,” he grinned, slowly swaying you out of the small space of your kitchen and into the living room. “But not everyone can pull off a dress like this,” his fingertips pressed a little firmer against your back and despite the thick material of your dress, it felt as if his hand was burning on your skin.

“I designed it myself,”

He smiled fondly at the proud grin on your face and leaned in closer to kiss it, nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours.

“My talented girl,”

You gave him a cocky wink, laughing as you played with the hair in his neck, not caring much about the products in his locks.

How could you care? How could you care about anything when your boyfriend was swaying you gently to the melodies of Frank’s White Christmas?

When he started singing along in a soft whisper, you had to hold onto him a little tighter because you’d be lying if you’d say it didn’t make your knees buckle.

The two of you were getting so lost in the moment that you hadn’t noticed the sizzling of meat getting more frantic and louder, until smoke started clouding above the stove. You gasped as you let go of Elvis, but he was faster and ran into the kitchen, taking the pan of the stove before turning it off.

The both of you looked at the now black steaks in the pan, his shoulders dropped, a grin settled on your face.

“I know you like ‘em well done, but I’m pretty sure this causes cancer,” he looked at you, pouting as you were falling into a fit of laughter at his failed accomplishment.

“Stop laughing, baby, I wanted this to be perfect,” he put the pan in the sink, sighing deeply as he leaned against the counter.

“Food doesn’t make this Christmas perfect, Elvis,” you smiled at him as you stepped closer, winding your arms around his neck. He didn’t hesitate to put his hands on your hips, looking at you with that pout still lingering on his face. “You are the one who makes it special. And… a lot of wine,”

He watched as you reached for the glass behind him, taking a big sip from the drink that was as red as your dress. His pout disappeared, turning into a broad smile.

“We still have mashed potatoes and green beans,” he raised his glass he took from the counter, the smile on his face replaced with a teasing grin. “And you as my dessert,”

He clinked the rim of his glass against yours, laughing as he saw the look on your face while taking a sip from the wine.

He was pretty sure he’d suffer from a terrible headache in the morning, but right now he didn’t care about anything else than being here with you and making you smile.

He succeeded in it, because your cheeks were aching. The worry of your uncle’s reaction upon seeing you again was pushed to the back of your mind, as well as the possibility of losing your job.

“What a marvelous idea,” you hummed, putting your glass down. “But then I want you as my appetizer,”

He quickly downed the rest of his drink, discarding his glass on the counter once more as he watched you bend through your knees in front of him. He’d be a fool to stop you and he most certainly didn’t as your hands moved quick when they flicked open the button of his slacks, tugging the material down his hips.

“It’s in the middle of winter, Elvis,” you joked at him when you noticed the lack of underwear, making him laugh as he looked down at you and shrugged.

“We’re inside, ain’t we?”

You giggled softly and returned your attention back to the semi hard-on of your boyfriend that was right in front of your face, wrapping your hand around it – with a gentle flick of your wrist, you pulled his foreskin back to expose the sensitive glans.

He quickly unbottoned his blazer and moved it aside so you’d have no interruptions and placed his hands on the edge of the counter, watching you collecting spit on your tongue before drizzling it on his cock.

The sight itself made him moan softly, lips parted as he grew in your hand when you softened the handjob you were giving him with your spit.

You were teasing him now, he knew it. You already got him to the point of being painfully hard but your mouth was nowhere near where he wanted it to be – instead your hand quickened its pace, thumb swirling around his tip and his hips were automatically following. The faster you went, the faster he rutted himself in your fist and as you squeezed his balls with his other hand, he let out a strangled moan, his head rolling into the back of his neck.

“Y/N.. baby.. s’good, so good,” his accent was thickening, his words coming out as a mumble as his eyes fluttered shut.

You took him by surprise by suddenly swirling your tongue around his tip and taking him completely into the warmth of your mouth. Now he was not foreign to the feeling, but it made him gasp as one of his hands flew to his dress shirt, crumbling it up in his hand.

At that exact moment, Frank Sinatra’s voice was replaced by his own – the multi-record stereo system your father gifted you a month ago having the function to play record after record, if there were any in, at least.

Elvis loved any type of sexual activity with music playing in the background, but he had never done anything with his own voice singing in the background nor was he planning on it.

But the fact that you, his precious girlfriend, owned his records and listened to them made his ego grow. And the fact that you currently were unable to speak because your mouth was full of him, made him be nearly consumed by that big ego that usually wouldn’t make such a prominent appearance.

God, he loved it. He loved every second of it.

You grinned up at him as you squeezed his balls a little firmer, bobbing your head to the rhythm of the first song and he couldn’t stop himself bucking his hips forward, trying with everything in his bones not to grab your face and fuck himself into your mouth to the rhythm of the music.

“You p-planned t-this.. didn’t you?” your movements slowed down as the second song started playing, a slower one. It was the same one he had danced with you to just minutes ago, but now the position was so much more sinful, and so much more exciting.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him as innocently as you could, shrugging once before taking him deeper into your mouth, running your nails up his bare thighs. He couldn’t speak another word even if he wanted to, a desperate moan escaping him as he shivered. You were aware his thighs were one of his most sensitive spots and his legs were shaking as you repeated the action over and over again while sucking him off sloppily, but determinedly.

Determined to get him to paint your tongue white and with the way your nails were tickling his skin, it didn’t take him very long to get there.

“Oh shit, oh shit, fuckfuckfuck,” his eyes were squeezed shut now, jaw nearly locking in place with how tight he was clenching it as he breathed harshly through his teeth.

His muscles in his lower abdomen tightened viciously, a low grunt escaping him as he squeezed the fabric of his shirt that was still bawled into his fist harshly, his other hand holding onto the counter for dear life.

You didn’t stop nor did you slow down your movements, your hand assisting your mouth until you felt warm spurts of his cum land on your tongue and at the back of your throat. You pulled off of him, not hesitating to swallow what he gave you and he shivered as one of your hands was still caressing his thigh as you showed him your tongue.

“You’re so evil,” he spoke softly, his voice sounding raspy and deep. He didn’t mean a word of it.

“You lasted 4 songs,” you grinned at him as you wiped the corner of your mouth when Blue Christmas started playing, rising back to your feet. “Pretty good,”

The songs were less than two minutes long. It wasn’t good at all – he could do better. That’s what he wanted to tell you, but he was unable to as you kissed him.

He allowed it, the taste of himself on your tongue making him eager to return the favor.

You grinned against his lips, pulling back as you felt his hands trying to creep their way underneath your dress. Grabbing onto his wrists to stop him, you took a step away to create distance.

“Uh-uh, I’m not the main course, baby,”

Slightly flabbergasted, he watched you pick up the dishes, leaving him behind in the kitchen with his pants still pooling around his ankles, and sit down at the table he set earlier.

He was wrong – he did mean it.

You were pure and pure evil.

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