Crush

Elijah is panting, struggling for breath, feeling his heart
nearly beat out of his chest. The ceiling--dull white plaster
dotted with a round light fixture--swims in and out of focus, and
he blinks repeatedly. It's the sting of sweat that's making his
eyes water so suddenly, he tells himself.

The deep throbbing between his hips slows, and his limbs feel
heavy wrapped around Sean. He feels the stickiness on his belly
and Sean's as both chests heave with exertion. He feels full,
still.

His fingers dig into Sean's arms when Sean awkwardly slips out of
him. The small movement only makes the situation more obscene to
Elijah, and he tries to ignore the unfamiliar feeling of being
wet and empty. His eyes flutter again--it hurts, why does it hurt
so much?--and he's confused and overwhelmed and isn't sure what
one does in these circumstances. Sean's damp forehead drops to
Elijah's shoulder, their bodies reluctant to move.

Elijah wants to shrug him off and cling to him all at once, but
is thankful that Sean isn't looking at his face when hot tears
finally spill and his mouth parts with a gat tht the sheer pain
that suddenly hits him. Something in his chest tightens--he can't
breathe, and his cheeks burn, and he doesn't know why he's trying
to hide it.

Sean's lips--which he can still feel ghosting over . . . over . .
. everywhere--move against his shoulder, and the words would be
unintelligible if he didn't expect them.

"Christ, Lij . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Elijah's fingers slip and can't hold on to the slick skin and so
his arms go around Sean in an uncomfortable bear hug. Sean's hair
tickles his cheek, his ear. The ceiling-- the whole fucking WORLD
above him caves in and it's like he can't shut it out. The damage
is done.

"I'm Elijah," he whispers, and his voice sounds small and
insignificant. It seems like maybe he should scream it, should
shove the warm body off of him, should hate Sean for what he just
did at the worst possible moment. But he can't. "I'M *ELIJAH*,"
he repeats more forcefully, and this time his voice cracks on the
word and it sounds so trivial-- or catastrophic, he can't tell
which.

He wants Sean to sit up and crush Elijah against him, to take it
back, to say he didn't just scream her name instead of his while
all Elijah could possibly think of was him him HIM, never anyone
else, ever. The thought of Sean lying to him, thinking about . .
. while he . . . Elijah's not sure that's something you come back
from. Especially when it happens the moment you realise you might
finally, maybe, have fallen in love.


END