10. The Wheel of Fortune
Title: Raise Hell
Author: SaintLi
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Robber/Driver (Eli/Gabe)
Wordcount (this chapter): 5,361
Fandom: Mint Royale
AN: There is no author's note. There's nothing I can say about this one. Just...yeah, just read it.
10. Wheel of Fortune
"I've never been very good at leaving things behind. I tried, but I have
always left fragments of myself there too, like seeds awaiting their chance to grow."
--Joanne Harris
It has been a day of indulgence, the two of them having woken up at noon, rolling out of bed only to drive the short distance to The Mitre--The Stockton Arms' sister restaurant--where Gabe convinced both Eli and their waitress that it would be a splendid idea to have chocolate cake for breakfast. After that was a trip to a small off-license where they purchased a bottle of Jack, which they sipped straight from the neck on their rented bed, Eli feeling a little bloated and queasy from his rich 'breakfast'. The most they seem to have accomplished this particular morning was programming each other's numbers into their new phones.
They have not been overindulgent, though. They are both only just on the right side of tipsy, naked and flushed against the sheets. Eli is in his customary position--laid out on his back, knees slightly bent and spread accommodatingly--while Gabe kneels between his legs, head bent to lap greedily yet teasingly at the sensitive flesh of Eli's thighs. He seems to think this is a splendid time to attempt to carry on a conversation as though they are not in the middle of a heated round of foreplay, and has spent as much time--twenty agonizing minutes, by Eli's approximation--quizzing Eli on trivial matters as he has spent running his tongue along everywhere but where Eli truly desires it. Although to Eli's great credit, or perhaps his inordinate amount of foolish pride, he has yet to break and start begging for the release he feels his richly deserves at this point.
"If we was really on our honeymoon," Gabe's words buzz against his saliva slicked skin, raising gooseflesh, "where would you have wanted to go?"
Eli considers the question as best he can, his head swimming and dick almost painfully hard. "I don't know. Italy I suppose. Maybe."
"Italy? Why Italy?" Gabe asks, before sucking hard at the inside of Eli's thigh. Eli's toes curl against the mattress, but he swallows back the plea threatening to fly from his mouth.
"The architecture, the culture, the food," he answers truthfully.
"The architecture?" Gabe parrots back, disbelief evident in his voice. "You can get that here, mate."
"Yeah, but...it's different there. From the pictures I've seen," he amends quickly, knowing full well Gabe would ask if he's already been, and who with. He hasn't been, especially not with anyone of any note or importance, it's just so damned hard to concentrate with Gabe's mouth so mournfully far from his straining erection, while his choppy and ridiculous hair is close enough to tickle his balls.
"Different how?"
"Just..." Eli trails off, attempting to gather his thoughts. After fielding Gabe's question when this whole excursion started about what his favorite food is, and why, he came to the conclusion that the more he talked, and the greater detail he gave, the more responsive Gabe would become, rewarding him by moving farther up his legs. In fact, the questioning had actually started somewhere around the vicinity of Eli's ankles. The subject then had been pet hates, the questions answered with gruff haste and rewarded with nothing more than Gabe's tongue laving up and down the length of Eli's Achilles tendon.
"Here," Eli tries again, grasping the thread of thought that had started dropping off when Gabe started marking a lovebite on the inside of Eli's opposite thigh, "Here the buildings, though beautiful, seem to be, I don't know...in competition, somehow, with nature. Or almost...encroaching upon it. But there, the little--Ooh!--the little villas and such, even the more...the more grandiose structures, they...they seem to be rising up out of the earth. As though they belong. Almost as though--Aah!--almost as though placed there by the hand of God himself."
"You said 'maybe', though," Gabe observes, moving slightly higher up Eli's leg, where he no doubt finds an inexplicable smattering of freckles against the milky skin. "There somewhere else?"
"New Orleans, perhaps," Eli chokes out, Gabe's tongue tracing the delicate skin where thigh meets groin. He's so close Eli can practically taste it. Perhaps a few words more, and he'll be permitted some relief. "The birthplace of jazz. There's something..." He swallows back the desire lying thick in his throat, gripping the headboard as Gabe tugs gently at his pubic hair with his crooked incisors. "There's something raw about the place, and yet sultry, at the same time. Dirty yet urbane. Slightly seedy, yet sophisticated. I--Oh, God, Gabriel, yes!" he hisses as Gabe takes him between his lips, rewarding him finally for all his trouble. He's been waiting so long--ever since Gabe started teasing him underneath their table at The Mitre--it'll only take a few moments longer, he can feel it already, building up inside him, that coiling in his guts ready to snap at any moment, and that moment is soon, so soon, and once it happens, oh that only opens up more opportunities. Perhaps he'll get to taste Gabriel again, take him in his mouth, or perhaps Gabe will choose to be inside him again--it has been too long, their first time also their last--and he will be boneless against the mattress, his own hunger sated, so as better to feel Gabe inside him, stretching and pushing and filling, and oh just a moment more and--
Eli's mobile--his old one, the original--bleats loudly, startling him. The sound jars him enough to raise his hips, forcing the head of his cock into the back of Gabe's throat and suddenly the world is crumbling around him, and all he can do is writhe helplessly, emptying himself into Gabriel's still sucking mouth with a strangled cry of both pleasure and surprise caught in his throat.
By the time the haze in his head has cleared, the phone has stopped ringing and Gabe is grinning at him, tugging at his arm in an effort to pull him upright. With considerable effort--he doesn't much want to move--Eli sits up, propping his shoulders and back up against the headboard as Gabe stradles him, erection bobbing almost comically between his legs as he situates himself and reaches to the nightstand to grab Eli's phone. He flips it open with a cheeky glance at Eli, and checks the missed call. There's a look on his face, a mixture of too many differing emotions to account for, and Eli almost wants to laugh at him. Until the expression turns wicked, Gabe's tongue just touching the tip of his canine as he grins at Eli.
"Was your dad," he says in a low voice, pressing the phone into Eli's sweaty palm. "Ring 'im back, yeah?"
Eli watches as Gabe moves his hand down to grasp himself, fist moving up and down his shaft slowly. He's got his eyes locked onto Eli's, and that stupidly assured look on his face, like he knows Eli can't deny him this. Nor could he deny himself. It's perverse and it's funny and it's just the kind of thing that would give his father a heart attack, were he to know what was occurring on his son's lap while speaking to him. Eli feels almost giddy as he rings him back, even going so far as to bring a hand out to cup Gabe's heavy sac in his hand, rippling his fingers in time to the distant rings on the other end of the phone. Gabe throws his head back, that self-congratulatory grin planted firmly on his face as he rolls his hips into Eli's hand, thrusts up into his own.
"Eli?" The voice on the other end sounds slightly panicked, and not at all the one he expects to hear when ringing his parents’ home phone.
"Jen?!" Eli jumps yet again, bucking Gabe upwards with the movement. Gabe, for his part, stills his hand and cocks his head inquisitively, his sweaty brow furrowed in slight confusion. "What're you doing at my parents’ house?"
"What am I doing?" Jen repeats, voice going up a couple octaves, "What are you doing?! I've rang several times, left just as many messages. Do you have any idea how worried I was? You wouldn't pick up, so I went to the flat, and you weren't there. So I thought perhaps you were still here, at your parent's, but you weren't here, either! I thought--no. Doesn't matter now what I thought. Where the hell are you?"
"Where the hell am I?" Eli echoes, feeling something dangerously close to anger rising within him. "What does it matter where I am? Furthermore, what difference does it make to you anymore? Hmm? You're the one who broke up with me, remember? I don't think I owe you any explanation to where I've been or what I've been doing. Or with whom," he throws in for good measure, as Gabe tries his best to conceal his grin. His hand is moving again, almost imperceptibly, and Eli's not even sure as to whether Gabe's aware he's doing it, though he knows the adrenaline from the argument he's currently having is making him a bit brave, almost brave enough to push Gabe back against the mattress and take him in his mouth. Almost.
"With...whom," Jen repeats softly. She sounds as though the wind has been knocked from her, as if she's been dealt a physical blow rather than an emotional one. "Oh. I see."
Eli though, is not a cruel man, not intentionally anyway, and immediately feels remorse hit him like a freight train. "Oh, Jen," he sighs, "I'm sorry. That...that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have...you were only concerned, and I...I appreciate that. Really, I do. I'm fine, if you still care to know. And I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. Still care to know, that is," he finishes weakly.
"Well...I do," she says, almost inaudibly. There's a hesitancy in her voice Eli hasn't heard for a long time, perhaps since they'd first begun dating, even. Gabe's fist has stilled completely, and Eli can tell he's listening even more intently than before. "I, um," Jen falters, attempting to carry on, "Where are you?"
Eli sighs. "Why does that matter, Jen?"
"It matters because I have something very important to discuss with you, Eli!" She's at the end of her rope, he can tell. Totally and completely exasperated. He feels a pang of guilt for being the one to make her feel this way. He taps Gabe softly on the hip, jerking his head to the side. Gabe catches his meaning easily enough and slides off, so Eli can swing his legs off the side of the bed, feet resting on the floor as he sits hunched over.
He sighs heavily into the phone again, stalling. It's more than just not wanting to interrupt this latest...interlude with Gabe that's causing him hesitancy. It's not wanting to burst this safe little bubble of fantasy they've so carefully--though perhaps unwittingly--built for themselves since fleeing the city. He wants to be a million miles away from the trouble, the responsibilities, and, most importantly, the man he had been before this all happened.
"Scale of one to ten?" he asks weakly.
"I'm pregnant, Eli." Jen spits out.
For a moment, there is no sound. Eli swears he can feel the earth's axial spin screech suddenly to a halt. This had been the furthest thing from his mind. This is the last thing he expected to be faced with. Then again, so was Gabe, but that hadn't stopped him from happening to Eli, either. No matter how much he wants to, he can't hide behind ignorance or lack of foresight.
"Oh," is all he can think to say.
"Yeah, 'oh'." Jen says back, her tone defiant and exhausted all at once. He wonders briefly how long she's been staggering under the weight of this knowledge all alone, and kicks himself mentally for being such a thoughtless prick. "Are...are you really with someone else?"
"Well, I uh..." Eli considers lying to her for a moment. He glances over his shoulder at Gabe, only to find him staring intently back, sitting with his legs tucked underneath him looking slightly worried, his erection waning. "Yeah," he says finally.
"Oh."
"I didn't mean for this to happen, Jen."
She gives a weary little laugh. "You never do, Eli."
Eli furrows his brow, opens his mouth to ask what she means by that, when he's cut off by her quiet, hollow voice. "I'll still be at Jan's when you get back. If you get back. So we can discuss this. You know." And the line goes dead.
***********
It took Gabe nearly fifteen minutes to get me to stop pacing, remember to breathe, and tell him what was going on. I kept my eyes downcast, staring at the carpeting between our feet as I told him, expecting him to say something pertinent to the situation, only to be surprised when he told me to get dressed. I watched him for a moment, confused as he began to put his clothes back on.
"Get dressed," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me as he pulled his drainpipes on with a bit of difficulty, "And go down to the garden for a smoke. I'll meet you out there in a minute, yeah?"
The panic had so thoroughly overtaken me I was numb by that point, happy to have him tell me what I should be doing, even if it didn't seem like anything particularly productive. I did as I was told, cold air slamming into me as I pulled open the door. I was greeted by dusk, the sky indigo, the clouds grey. I took a seat on a bench beneath a yew tree, across from a fountain gurgling peacefully, and lit a cigarette.
It's funny, the way things work out. Or don't work out, as in my case. There are a lot of variables that can change the way you view a situation. If I hadn't have gotten so belligerently drunk that I'd gotten myself fired, I wouldn't have gone to Michael's. If I hadn't have gone to Michael's, Jen probably wouldn't have broken it off with me. If I wasn't so broken down from stress, I would have had the strength to be selfish and decline the invitation to my parents' house. And I wouldn't have met Gabe. Jen probably would have found some cutesy way to tell me she was with child, and I would have been elated. In reality, though, I was torn. It couldn't be easy, bringing a child into the world with your ex. Although it was no guarantee she'd keep it--a thought which made my stomach clench unexpectedly.
I heard the crunch of footfalls through snow and turned my head to see Gabe walking towards me. He stopped straight in front of me, blocking my view of the fountain and the spectacular winter sunset beyond it, and took the cigarette from between my fingers. I saw him shiver as he brought it up to his lips, and rolled my eyes, reaching out to zip up his jacket. I watched him expell a plume of smoke into the still air, his eyes closed. He stood pigeon-toed between my knees, cast in the shadow of hesitance.
"I've packed," he said softly, passing the cigarette to me.
"Oh." I felt my stomach churn and then sink. This was it. The final straw. Everything up to this point he could handle. After this, though, I guessed he decided I just simply came with too much baggage. He said something I didn't quite catch, looking at me expectantly.
"What?"
"I said, where does Jan live?
"Brighton," I replied, a bit confused, but mostly just devastated.
"Right. Help me get the shit in the car. If we leave now, we might make it there before she goes to bed." He took the spent fag end from between my fingers and crushed it in the gravel beneath his boot.
"What?" I asked, my heart suddenly racing double time.
"You gotta go talk this over with her. She's pissed off, and staying here with me ain't gonna help that, mate." He tugged my arm, attempting to force me out of inertia.
"And you're...you're coming with me?" I asked stupidly, scrambling to my feet. He gave me a sarcastic look.
"I'm the one what's got the car, mate," he stated flatly, before his features softened and he pulled me closer. "I ain't leavin' you now, Eli," he said quietly, tugging me towards the car.
***********
The drive to Brighton has been one spent in tenuous silence, the first hour spent by Eli in mute shock, locked away in his own private panic. Without really realizing it, he'd reached over the centre console, through the space that separated the two of them, to grasp Gabe's hand. Gabe had tossed him a curious glance before returning his eyes to the road and giving his fingers a comforting squeeze. At some point, Gabe had to relenquish his grasp on Eli's hand in order for cigarettes to be lit. The radio was turned on two hours into the drive, dialed down low to break the monotonous drone of tyres on bitumen and the wheeze of the car's old heating vents. A second after the volume knob had been adjusted, Eli found Gabe's hand sliding into his own once more, holding on tight and only retreating when both hands were necessary for steering. The silence slowly shifted from shocked, to uncomfortable, to willful defiance in the face of the situation they've found themselves in. Five hours worth of words held captive by two slightly sweaty palms--gagged by ten knuckles woven tight together.
"Eli?" Gabe says finally, his voice a little rusty from disuse as he turns onto Old Steine. "I'm gonna need directions, mate."
Eli clears his throat and lists off moves as needed--left turn, right turn, right turn, left--guiding Gabe's hands on the steering wheel with his voice until they find themselves parked outside Jan's nauseatingly large New York style loft on Vine Street. Gabe kills the engine and drums his fingers against the leather of the wheel before his hands find Eli's again. Eli's gaze drifts to the clock, reading forty minutes past midnight. He wonders vaguely if he should just ask Gabe to turn the car around, wait til the morning to do this, before he notices Gabe watching him closely with an unreadable expression.
"You wanna wait til the morning, don'tcha?" he asks, his face still unreadable, nearly a mask in the dim glow of the streetlamps.
"What do you think?" Eli asks, wanting Gabe's honest assessment of the situation. Gabe seems to give it good consideration before puffing his cheeks full of air, eyes wide and downcast. He shrugs slightly.
"I'd go in. Just let her know you ain't abandoned her when she needs ya, y'know?"
"Right." Eli nods. He takes a deep, steadying breath and yet finds himself still unable to move, bogged down in inertia. He feels Gabe's curled fingers twitch slightly against his palm.
"You gonna get back together with her?" he asks almost too casually, eyeing the various rags, bric-a-brac and fast food wrappers littering the dash.
"No. I'm--" I'm with you now, you twit. The thought is so forceful in its insistence to be spoken he actually has to physically swallow it down before continuing. "I'm not. I mean, I'll be there for her no matter what she decides, but...no."
Gabe squeezes Eli's hand tightly in his before turning fully towards him in his seat, knees thrown over the centre console, ankles dangling between Eli's spread knees. He drags Eli's left hand into his lap and pulls the ring from his finger with jerky motions--his finger slightly swollen around its band. Eli watches as Gabe places the ring on the dash where it glents weakly in the dull light. He kicks his feet up next to it, blocking it from view as he reclines as much as possible in his seat, and turns Eli's hand over in his. Gabe brushes his fingers over his palm, back and forth over the roughened skin before bringing it up to his mouth, pressing kisses into the places his callouses don't touch.
"G'on, now," he says softly, relinquishing his hold, "before you lose your nerve."
Eli nods, hand hovering above the door pull for a moment as he steals a fleeting glance at Gabe's face before throwing the door open to the cold night air and steps out of the car. His legs wobble dangerously as he takes the few steps up to the private front door, partly from nerves, partly the layer of icy slush littering the pavements. He knocks only just loud enough to be heard, though he's sure the pounding of his heart will be enough to wake everyone on the street. A lamp comes on in a room on the second storey, throwing a pale rectangle of light over Eli and the pavement behind him. He only waits a few minutes before he's met with Jan's tired face glaring at him through a crack in the door.
"What?" she snaps, blinking sleep from her eyes.
"Is Jen here?" Stupid, stupid, Eli thinks. "I mean, I know she's here. Can I speak to her for a moment?"
Jan stares at him wordlessly for a long moment before turning back into the house silently, leaving the door cracked but not inviting him in after her, her slippered feet sounding a muted shuffle across the oak floor of her foyer. It's a place he's always hated, Jan's flat--a three bedroom, three bath, open-planned testament to her own self importance, stuffed full of expensive furniture, paintings, real silver and crystal, perfect investment banker husband and sickeningly adorable baby. Even before the arrival of Gabriel in his life, every holiday spent here with Jen had made him briefly question his faith.
There's once again movement in the foyer before the door is pulled back, Jen regarding him with guarded curiosity. She's wearing her thick pink dressing gown--tightly belted--under her heavy peacoat, and is holding herself like she thinks she can separate herself from the cold using her own body as a shield. She hovers on the threshold, obviously not wanting to invite him in--clinging desperately to her anger and annoyance--but also not wanting to freeze herself more than strictly necessary. He can't blame her, really.
"I, um..." It's a false start. He coughs softly and tries again, shoving his fists into his pockets. "I know it's late, but, uhm...I just wanted you to know...I'm here. For you. If you need me, or you want to talk, or, uhm...anything really. I just...I didn't want you to think I was deserting you. Because I'm not. I wouldn't." He coughs again, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. Jen's face softens a bit before her brows knit together and she frowns slightly.
"Are you really with someone else?" she asks weakly.
Eli nods, subconsciously shifting to more fully block her view of Gabe in the car.
"Already?"
He nods again, more guiltily than before. "I...yeah." He wants to say he's sorry, but he's not sure if he is. He wants to say he didn't mean to fall into another relationship so soon, but that just sounds like a hollow excuse. He wants to tell her that even if he no longer wants to be with her, he still loves and supports her, but he doesn't know how. There's a long moment of silence, stretching out between the two of them like an ocean, or perhaps a large river--both of them inhabitants of a small town on oposite sides attempting to communicate via shouting across, knowing if they tried to meet in the middle, the current would drag them under. The sound of a throat being cleared--undoubtedly Jan--sounds from behind Jen, which seems to snap her back into action.
"Come round tomorrow, and we can talk things over. Just make sure it's at a decent time." She attempts to smirk at him, but it action doesn't quite reach her eyes. Eli nods and ducks his head, backing up slightly before he turns to retreat.
"How'd it go?" Gabe asks as Eli clambers back into the car. Gabe turns over the engine and reaches for the radio's volume dial.
"Fine, I guess." Eli shrugs and picks his ring up off the dash, sliding back on his finger. There's a moment's pause of suspended motion where Gabe's hand hangs in the air before the radio dials, and Eli can see Gabe staring at him out of the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a grin on his lips before his fingers close around the volume knob, turning the radio up so it's just audible. Gabe drops his hand, his palm a warm, comforting weight on Eli's thigh.
"C'mon," he says tenderly, pulling away from the kerb and onto the street proper, "Let's get outta here."
**************
For the second time in a week, Eli finds himself laying between Gabe's legs. This time is different, though. This time, they're lying in Eli's bed, Gabe's head square in the middle of Eli's pillow, his breathing slow and relaxed--the steady rise and fall of his bare chest under Eli's cheek and the pressure of his fingertips stroking across his scalp lulling Eli into a blissfully blank-minded tranquility.
He has to concentrate hard on staying awake--a lit cigarette held loosely between middle and forefinger. Gabe keeps reaching with his free hand to grasp Eli's wrist, pull the cigarette up to his lips for a drag. The stereo--cheap, old and dusty--in the corner is leaking a steady stream of music into the room, something Eli's never heard before but likes. Carefully, Gabe takes the cigarette butt from between Eli's fingers and crushes it out in the ashtray sitting on the mattress next to them. With an awkward stretch, he places it on the nightstand and wraps his arm around Eli's shoulder.
"Don't fall to sleep on me," he mumbles into the crown of Eli's head. He rubs up and down Eli's bare calf with his socked foot, toes climbing higher to tickle at the skin behind his knee, sending a pleasant little shiver through him.
"Won't." Eli mumbles back, rubbing his lightly stubbled cheek against Gabe's sternum.
"Will so, if you don't get off'a me." His tone is accusatory, though he makes no move to unhook his ankle from round Eli's leg.
"You didn't get to finish, earlier," Eli blurts out, referring to their little interlude in their rented room, before Jen's call. He feels Gabe's chuckle as well as he hears it.
"So?" he says flippantly, dragging his blunt fingernails lightly up and down Eli's back, making his breath hitch slightly.
"Well, I mean...I'm just...I'm just saying." Eli stammers, mentally kicking himself. It's been a long day of high-emotion, his exhaustion making his tongue at bit looser than he'd normally like.
"You offerin'?" Eli can hear the grin in Gabe's voice before he even tilts his head up to see.
"Would--would you like...?"
"I ain't one to turn down free orgasms, mate." His grin widens as he hooks his ankles into Eli, just under his arse. "You wanna?" Eli is sure his face is going to burn a hole through Gabe's chest, his voice failing him. He nods. "Then get up here and kiss me, mate."
And he does, really noticing for the first time just how unshaven Gabe's jaw is--the scrape of stubble on stubble rasping like a cabasa. Gabe murmurs soft encouragements into his mouth, and if it wasn't going on half two in the morning, Eli might've held a firmer grip on his inhibitions--his mouth blazing a warm, wet trail across Gabe's jaw and down his neck. Gabe's hands are everywhere at once, it seems to Eli, down his back and up his ribs, in his hair and on his arse, gripping hard at his upper arms as Gabe grinds his hips up against him, teasing them both through the thin cotton of their pants, pushing Eli's pelvis down into him with his strong leg muscles.
Eli allows his head to loll forward, tucked into Gabe's shoulder. Gabe turns his head, nose pressed into Eli's neck, sucking at the slightly salty skin before biting down, sucking harder. Eli groans and Gabe pulls off his neck with a pant, quickly transforming into a breathless laugh as he presses his head back into the pillow.
"Was'so funny?" Eli slurs into his flesh, eyes closed tight, hips still rolling even as Gabe continues to laugh.
"We're gonna...come in our pants...like a couple of--mmm--horny teenagers." Eli's never heard anyone laugh and moan simultaneously, but he quickly decides it's one of his favorite sounds. He chuckles back, at a loss of what to say, opting instead to continue rocking his hips into Gabe's. He can't help the gasp that escapes him when their cocks line up almost perfectly, rolling his hips over and over. Gabe's calves flex tight against Eli's arse, his nails digging into his shoulders.
"Fuck!" Gabriel gasps out, hips canting to meet Eli's. "I mean it, Eli. You make me come like this and you're doing the washing. Tonight. Because I--oh fuck, Eli, don't stop. Don't you dare fucking stop or I'll kill you, I swear to god, I'll murder you with my bare hands, Eli. Eli, Eli," he repeats, brow furrowed as they rock together. A rush of heat hits Eli's face, and he promises himself he can feel embarrassed about this all he wants tomorrow, but right now he just needs so badly to come he's losing sight of himself, of his embarrassment, of his self-consciousness. He brings his hand down, jerking first his boxers then Gabe's little blue pants down just far enough to free their erections. Their harsh breaths mix with the sound of drums on the track playing in the background as Eli takes them both in his large fist, both of them leaking steadily enough to make the slide of skin on skin almost overly slick.
He fists their cocks hard and fast, beyond ready to come, his balls aching. Gabe is gone somewhere, his mouth slack as he stares unfixedly at some point just over Eli's shoulder, his eyes glassy. He comes just after a few more pulls, Eli slowing down and easing up on the pressure as Gabe's body goes rigid, a strangled groan breaking free of his throat, splashing his release over the tensed muscles of his stomach. He lays boneless against the mattress, looking just as Eli had imagined him so many weeks ago as they pored over the blueprints to the bank--satiated and gasping against the pale blue and white striped sheets Jen bought, a film of sweat making his exposed skin glow, his chest heaving with each breath, his hair a wreck.
Eli pushes roughly into his fist with a partially stifled grunt, spilling onto Gabe's already sullied stomach, the arm he's bracing himself on shaking as he rides it out, Gabe's cock still in hand, twitching against him. He brings his arm back down to the mattress finally, pulling large gulps of air deep into his lungs as Gabe's fingers glance over his skin. He can feel Gabe's knuckles brush against his stomach, wondering dimly in the back of his mind just what he's doing, the answer coming soon enough when Gabe's slick fingers press against his bottom lip and he opens up without a thought, sucking their mingled release off Gabe's digits before rolling off to the side, head barely on the edge of the pillow.
The last thing he feels before dropping off into exhausted sleep is Gabe curling around him as he pulls the duvet up over them both.
Author: SaintLi
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Robber/Driver (Eli/Gabe)
Wordcount (this chapter): 5,361
Fandom: Mint Royale
AN: There is no author's note. There's nothing I can say about this one. Just...yeah, just read it.
10. Wheel of Fortune
"I've never been very good at leaving things behind. I tried, but I have
always left fragments of myself there too, like seeds awaiting their chance to grow."
--Joanne Harris
It has been a day of indulgence, the two of them having woken up at noon, rolling out of bed only to drive the short distance to The Mitre--The Stockton Arms' sister restaurant--where Gabe convinced both Eli and their waitress that it would be a splendid idea to have chocolate cake for breakfast. After that was a trip to a small off-license where they purchased a bottle of Jack, which they sipped straight from the neck on their rented bed, Eli feeling a little bloated and queasy from his rich 'breakfast'. The most they seem to have accomplished this particular morning was programming each other's numbers into their new phones.
They have not been overindulgent, though. They are both only just on the right side of tipsy, naked and flushed against the sheets. Eli is in his customary position--laid out on his back, knees slightly bent and spread accommodatingly--while Gabe kneels between his legs, head bent to lap greedily yet teasingly at the sensitive flesh of Eli's thighs. He seems to think this is a splendid time to attempt to carry on a conversation as though they are not in the middle of a heated round of foreplay, and has spent as much time--twenty agonizing minutes, by Eli's approximation--quizzing Eli on trivial matters as he has spent running his tongue along everywhere but where Eli truly desires it. Although to Eli's great credit, or perhaps his inordinate amount of foolish pride, he has yet to break and start begging for the release he feels his richly deserves at this point.
"If we was really on our honeymoon," Gabe's words buzz against his saliva slicked skin, raising gooseflesh, "where would you have wanted to go?"
Eli considers the question as best he can, his head swimming and dick almost painfully hard. "I don't know. Italy I suppose. Maybe."
"Italy? Why Italy?" Gabe asks, before sucking hard at the inside of Eli's thigh. Eli's toes curl against the mattress, but he swallows back the plea threatening to fly from his mouth.
"The architecture, the culture, the food," he answers truthfully.
"The architecture?" Gabe parrots back, disbelief evident in his voice. "You can get that here, mate."
"Yeah, but...it's different there. From the pictures I've seen," he amends quickly, knowing full well Gabe would ask if he's already been, and who with. He hasn't been, especially not with anyone of any note or importance, it's just so damned hard to concentrate with Gabe's mouth so mournfully far from his straining erection, while his choppy and ridiculous hair is close enough to tickle his balls.
"Different how?"
"Just..." Eli trails off, attempting to gather his thoughts. After fielding Gabe's question when this whole excursion started about what his favorite food is, and why, he came to the conclusion that the more he talked, and the greater detail he gave, the more responsive Gabe would become, rewarding him by moving farther up his legs. In fact, the questioning had actually started somewhere around the vicinity of Eli's ankles. The subject then had been pet hates, the questions answered with gruff haste and rewarded with nothing more than Gabe's tongue laving up and down the length of Eli's Achilles tendon.
"Here," Eli tries again, grasping the thread of thought that had started dropping off when Gabe started marking a lovebite on the inside of Eli's opposite thigh, "Here the buildings, though beautiful, seem to be, I don't know...in competition, somehow, with nature. Or almost...encroaching upon it. But there, the little--Ooh!--the little villas and such, even the more...the more grandiose structures, they...they seem to be rising up out of the earth. As though they belong. Almost as though--Aah!--almost as though placed there by the hand of God himself."
"You said 'maybe', though," Gabe observes, moving slightly higher up Eli's leg, where he no doubt finds an inexplicable smattering of freckles against the milky skin. "There somewhere else?"
"New Orleans, perhaps," Eli chokes out, Gabe's tongue tracing the delicate skin where thigh meets groin. He's so close Eli can practically taste it. Perhaps a few words more, and he'll be permitted some relief. "The birthplace of jazz. There's something..." He swallows back the desire lying thick in his throat, gripping the headboard as Gabe tugs gently at his pubic hair with his crooked incisors. "There's something raw about the place, and yet sultry, at the same time. Dirty yet urbane. Slightly seedy, yet sophisticated. I--Oh, God, Gabriel, yes!" he hisses as Gabe takes him between his lips, rewarding him finally for all his trouble. He's been waiting so long--ever since Gabe started teasing him underneath their table at The Mitre--it'll only take a few moments longer, he can feel it already, building up inside him, that coiling in his guts ready to snap at any moment, and that moment is soon, so soon, and once it happens, oh that only opens up more opportunities. Perhaps he'll get to taste Gabriel again, take him in his mouth, or perhaps Gabe will choose to be inside him again--it has been too long, their first time also their last--and he will be boneless against the mattress, his own hunger sated, so as better to feel Gabe inside him, stretching and pushing and filling, and oh just a moment more and--
Eli's mobile--his old one, the original--bleats loudly, startling him. The sound jars him enough to raise his hips, forcing the head of his cock into the back of Gabe's throat and suddenly the world is crumbling around him, and all he can do is writhe helplessly, emptying himself into Gabriel's still sucking mouth with a strangled cry of both pleasure and surprise caught in his throat.
By the time the haze in his head has cleared, the phone has stopped ringing and Gabe is grinning at him, tugging at his arm in an effort to pull him upright. With considerable effort--he doesn't much want to move--Eli sits up, propping his shoulders and back up against the headboard as Gabe stradles him, erection bobbing almost comically between his legs as he situates himself and reaches to the nightstand to grab Eli's phone. He flips it open with a cheeky glance at Eli, and checks the missed call. There's a look on his face, a mixture of too many differing emotions to account for, and Eli almost wants to laugh at him. Until the expression turns wicked, Gabe's tongue just touching the tip of his canine as he grins at Eli.
"Was your dad," he says in a low voice, pressing the phone into Eli's sweaty palm. "Ring 'im back, yeah?"
Eli watches as Gabe moves his hand down to grasp himself, fist moving up and down his shaft slowly. He's got his eyes locked onto Eli's, and that stupidly assured look on his face, like he knows Eli can't deny him this. Nor could he deny himself. It's perverse and it's funny and it's just the kind of thing that would give his father a heart attack, were he to know what was occurring on his son's lap while speaking to him. Eli feels almost giddy as he rings him back, even going so far as to bring a hand out to cup Gabe's heavy sac in his hand, rippling his fingers in time to the distant rings on the other end of the phone. Gabe throws his head back, that self-congratulatory grin planted firmly on his face as he rolls his hips into Eli's hand, thrusts up into his own.
"Eli?" The voice on the other end sounds slightly panicked, and not at all the one he expects to hear when ringing his parents’ home phone.
"Jen?!" Eli jumps yet again, bucking Gabe upwards with the movement. Gabe, for his part, stills his hand and cocks his head inquisitively, his sweaty brow furrowed in slight confusion. "What're you doing at my parents’ house?"
"What am I doing?" Jen repeats, voice going up a couple octaves, "What are you doing?! I've rang several times, left just as many messages. Do you have any idea how worried I was? You wouldn't pick up, so I went to the flat, and you weren't there. So I thought perhaps you were still here, at your parent's, but you weren't here, either! I thought--no. Doesn't matter now what I thought. Where the hell are you?"
"Where the hell am I?" Eli echoes, feeling something dangerously close to anger rising within him. "What does it matter where I am? Furthermore, what difference does it make to you anymore? Hmm? You're the one who broke up with me, remember? I don't think I owe you any explanation to where I've been or what I've been doing. Or with whom," he throws in for good measure, as Gabe tries his best to conceal his grin. His hand is moving again, almost imperceptibly, and Eli's not even sure as to whether Gabe's aware he's doing it, though he knows the adrenaline from the argument he's currently having is making him a bit brave, almost brave enough to push Gabe back against the mattress and take him in his mouth. Almost.
"With...whom," Jen repeats softly. She sounds as though the wind has been knocked from her, as if she's been dealt a physical blow rather than an emotional one. "Oh. I see."
Eli though, is not a cruel man, not intentionally anyway, and immediately feels remorse hit him like a freight train. "Oh, Jen," he sighs, "I'm sorry. That...that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have...you were only concerned, and I...I appreciate that. Really, I do. I'm fine, if you still care to know. And I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. Still care to know, that is," he finishes weakly.
"Well...I do," she says, almost inaudibly. There's a hesitancy in her voice Eli hasn't heard for a long time, perhaps since they'd first begun dating, even. Gabe's fist has stilled completely, and Eli can tell he's listening even more intently than before. "I, um," Jen falters, attempting to carry on, "Where are you?"
Eli sighs. "Why does that matter, Jen?"
"It matters because I have something very important to discuss with you, Eli!" She's at the end of her rope, he can tell. Totally and completely exasperated. He feels a pang of guilt for being the one to make her feel this way. He taps Gabe softly on the hip, jerking his head to the side. Gabe catches his meaning easily enough and slides off, so Eli can swing his legs off the side of the bed, feet resting on the floor as he sits hunched over.
He sighs heavily into the phone again, stalling. It's more than just not wanting to interrupt this latest...interlude with Gabe that's causing him hesitancy. It's not wanting to burst this safe little bubble of fantasy they've so carefully--though perhaps unwittingly--built for themselves since fleeing the city. He wants to be a million miles away from the trouble, the responsibilities, and, most importantly, the man he had been before this all happened.
"Scale of one to ten?" he asks weakly.
"I'm pregnant, Eli." Jen spits out.
For a moment, there is no sound. Eli swears he can feel the earth's axial spin screech suddenly to a halt. This had been the furthest thing from his mind. This is the last thing he expected to be faced with. Then again, so was Gabe, but that hadn't stopped him from happening to Eli, either. No matter how much he wants to, he can't hide behind ignorance or lack of foresight.
"Oh," is all he can think to say.
"Yeah, 'oh'." Jen says back, her tone defiant and exhausted all at once. He wonders briefly how long she's been staggering under the weight of this knowledge all alone, and kicks himself mentally for being such a thoughtless prick. "Are...are you really with someone else?"
"Well, I uh..." Eli considers lying to her for a moment. He glances over his shoulder at Gabe, only to find him staring intently back, sitting with his legs tucked underneath him looking slightly worried, his erection waning. "Yeah," he says finally.
"Oh."
"I didn't mean for this to happen, Jen."
She gives a weary little laugh. "You never do, Eli."
Eli furrows his brow, opens his mouth to ask what she means by that, when he's cut off by her quiet, hollow voice. "I'll still be at Jan's when you get back. If you get back. So we can discuss this. You know." And the line goes dead.
***********
It took Gabe nearly fifteen minutes to get me to stop pacing, remember to breathe, and tell him what was going on. I kept my eyes downcast, staring at the carpeting between our feet as I told him, expecting him to say something pertinent to the situation, only to be surprised when he told me to get dressed. I watched him for a moment, confused as he began to put his clothes back on.
"Get dressed," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me as he pulled his drainpipes on with a bit of difficulty, "And go down to the garden for a smoke. I'll meet you out there in a minute, yeah?"
The panic had so thoroughly overtaken me I was numb by that point, happy to have him tell me what I should be doing, even if it didn't seem like anything particularly productive. I did as I was told, cold air slamming into me as I pulled open the door. I was greeted by dusk, the sky indigo, the clouds grey. I took a seat on a bench beneath a yew tree, across from a fountain gurgling peacefully, and lit a cigarette.
It's funny, the way things work out. Or don't work out, as in my case. There are a lot of variables that can change the way you view a situation. If I hadn't have gotten so belligerently drunk that I'd gotten myself fired, I wouldn't have gone to Michael's. If I hadn't have gone to Michael's, Jen probably wouldn't have broken it off with me. If I wasn't so broken down from stress, I would have had the strength to be selfish and decline the invitation to my parents' house. And I wouldn't have met Gabe. Jen probably would have found some cutesy way to tell me she was with child, and I would have been elated. In reality, though, I was torn. It couldn't be easy, bringing a child into the world with your ex. Although it was no guarantee she'd keep it--a thought which made my stomach clench unexpectedly.
I heard the crunch of footfalls through snow and turned my head to see Gabe walking towards me. He stopped straight in front of me, blocking my view of the fountain and the spectacular winter sunset beyond it, and took the cigarette from between my fingers. I saw him shiver as he brought it up to his lips, and rolled my eyes, reaching out to zip up his jacket. I watched him expell a plume of smoke into the still air, his eyes closed. He stood pigeon-toed between my knees, cast in the shadow of hesitance.
"I've packed," he said softly, passing the cigarette to me.
"Oh." I felt my stomach churn and then sink. This was it. The final straw. Everything up to this point he could handle. After this, though, I guessed he decided I just simply came with too much baggage. He said something I didn't quite catch, looking at me expectantly.
"What?"
"I said, where does Jan live?
"Brighton," I replied, a bit confused, but mostly just devastated.
"Right. Help me get the shit in the car. If we leave now, we might make it there before she goes to bed." He took the spent fag end from between my fingers and crushed it in the gravel beneath his boot.
"What?" I asked, my heart suddenly racing double time.
"You gotta go talk this over with her. She's pissed off, and staying here with me ain't gonna help that, mate." He tugged my arm, attempting to force me out of inertia.
"And you're...you're coming with me?" I asked stupidly, scrambling to my feet. He gave me a sarcastic look.
"I'm the one what's got the car, mate," he stated flatly, before his features softened and he pulled me closer. "I ain't leavin' you now, Eli," he said quietly, tugging me towards the car.
***********
The drive to Brighton has been one spent in tenuous silence, the first hour spent by Eli in mute shock, locked away in his own private panic. Without really realizing it, he'd reached over the centre console, through the space that separated the two of them, to grasp Gabe's hand. Gabe had tossed him a curious glance before returning his eyes to the road and giving his fingers a comforting squeeze. At some point, Gabe had to relenquish his grasp on Eli's hand in order for cigarettes to be lit. The radio was turned on two hours into the drive, dialed down low to break the monotonous drone of tyres on bitumen and the wheeze of the car's old heating vents. A second after the volume knob had been adjusted, Eli found Gabe's hand sliding into his own once more, holding on tight and only retreating when both hands were necessary for steering. The silence slowly shifted from shocked, to uncomfortable, to willful defiance in the face of the situation they've found themselves in. Five hours worth of words held captive by two slightly sweaty palms--gagged by ten knuckles woven tight together.
"Eli?" Gabe says finally, his voice a little rusty from disuse as he turns onto Old Steine. "I'm gonna need directions, mate."
Eli clears his throat and lists off moves as needed--left turn, right turn, right turn, left--guiding Gabe's hands on the steering wheel with his voice until they find themselves parked outside Jan's nauseatingly large New York style loft on Vine Street. Gabe kills the engine and drums his fingers against the leather of the wheel before his hands find Eli's again. Eli's gaze drifts to the clock, reading forty minutes past midnight. He wonders vaguely if he should just ask Gabe to turn the car around, wait til the morning to do this, before he notices Gabe watching him closely with an unreadable expression.
"You wanna wait til the morning, don'tcha?" he asks, his face still unreadable, nearly a mask in the dim glow of the streetlamps.
"What do you think?" Eli asks, wanting Gabe's honest assessment of the situation. Gabe seems to give it good consideration before puffing his cheeks full of air, eyes wide and downcast. He shrugs slightly.
"I'd go in. Just let her know you ain't abandoned her when she needs ya, y'know?"
"Right." Eli nods. He takes a deep, steadying breath and yet finds himself still unable to move, bogged down in inertia. He feels Gabe's curled fingers twitch slightly against his palm.
"You gonna get back together with her?" he asks almost too casually, eyeing the various rags, bric-a-brac and fast food wrappers littering the dash.
"No. I'm--" I'm with you now, you twit. The thought is so forceful in its insistence to be spoken he actually has to physically swallow it down before continuing. "I'm not. I mean, I'll be there for her no matter what she decides, but...no."
Gabe squeezes Eli's hand tightly in his before turning fully towards him in his seat, knees thrown over the centre console, ankles dangling between Eli's spread knees. He drags Eli's left hand into his lap and pulls the ring from his finger with jerky motions--his finger slightly swollen around its band. Eli watches as Gabe places the ring on the dash where it glents weakly in the dull light. He kicks his feet up next to it, blocking it from view as he reclines as much as possible in his seat, and turns Eli's hand over in his. Gabe brushes his fingers over his palm, back and forth over the roughened skin before bringing it up to his mouth, pressing kisses into the places his callouses don't touch.
"G'on, now," he says softly, relinquishing his hold, "before you lose your nerve."
Eli nods, hand hovering above the door pull for a moment as he steals a fleeting glance at Gabe's face before throwing the door open to the cold night air and steps out of the car. His legs wobble dangerously as he takes the few steps up to the private front door, partly from nerves, partly the layer of icy slush littering the pavements. He knocks only just loud enough to be heard, though he's sure the pounding of his heart will be enough to wake everyone on the street. A lamp comes on in a room on the second storey, throwing a pale rectangle of light over Eli and the pavement behind him. He only waits a few minutes before he's met with Jan's tired face glaring at him through a crack in the door.
"What?" she snaps, blinking sleep from her eyes.
"Is Jen here?" Stupid, stupid, Eli thinks. "I mean, I know she's here. Can I speak to her for a moment?"
Jan stares at him wordlessly for a long moment before turning back into the house silently, leaving the door cracked but not inviting him in after her, her slippered feet sounding a muted shuffle across the oak floor of her foyer. It's a place he's always hated, Jan's flat--a three bedroom, three bath, open-planned testament to her own self importance, stuffed full of expensive furniture, paintings, real silver and crystal, perfect investment banker husband and sickeningly adorable baby. Even before the arrival of Gabriel in his life, every holiday spent here with Jen had made him briefly question his faith.
There's once again movement in the foyer before the door is pulled back, Jen regarding him with guarded curiosity. She's wearing her thick pink dressing gown--tightly belted--under her heavy peacoat, and is holding herself like she thinks she can separate herself from the cold using her own body as a shield. She hovers on the threshold, obviously not wanting to invite him in--clinging desperately to her anger and annoyance--but also not wanting to freeze herself more than strictly necessary. He can't blame her, really.
"I, um..." It's a false start. He coughs softly and tries again, shoving his fists into his pockets. "I know it's late, but, uhm...I just wanted you to know...I'm here. For you. If you need me, or you want to talk, or, uhm...anything really. I just...I didn't want you to think I was deserting you. Because I'm not. I wouldn't." He coughs again, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. Jen's face softens a bit before her brows knit together and she frowns slightly.
"Are you really with someone else?" she asks weakly.
Eli nods, subconsciously shifting to more fully block her view of Gabe in the car.
"Already?"
He nods again, more guiltily than before. "I...yeah." He wants to say he's sorry, but he's not sure if he is. He wants to say he didn't mean to fall into another relationship so soon, but that just sounds like a hollow excuse. He wants to tell her that even if he no longer wants to be with her, he still loves and supports her, but he doesn't know how. There's a long moment of silence, stretching out between the two of them like an ocean, or perhaps a large river--both of them inhabitants of a small town on oposite sides attempting to communicate via shouting across, knowing if they tried to meet in the middle, the current would drag them under. The sound of a throat being cleared--undoubtedly Jan--sounds from behind Jen, which seems to snap her back into action.
"Come round tomorrow, and we can talk things over. Just make sure it's at a decent time." She attempts to smirk at him, but it action doesn't quite reach her eyes. Eli nods and ducks his head, backing up slightly before he turns to retreat.
"How'd it go?" Gabe asks as Eli clambers back into the car. Gabe turns over the engine and reaches for the radio's volume dial.
"Fine, I guess." Eli shrugs and picks his ring up off the dash, sliding back on his finger. There's a moment's pause of suspended motion where Gabe's hand hangs in the air before the radio dials, and Eli can see Gabe staring at him out of the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a grin on his lips before his fingers close around the volume knob, turning the radio up so it's just audible. Gabe drops his hand, his palm a warm, comforting weight on Eli's thigh.
"C'mon," he says tenderly, pulling away from the kerb and onto the street proper, "Let's get outta here."
**************
For the second time in a week, Eli finds himself laying between Gabe's legs. This time is different, though. This time, they're lying in Eli's bed, Gabe's head square in the middle of Eli's pillow, his breathing slow and relaxed--the steady rise and fall of his bare chest under Eli's cheek and the pressure of his fingertips stroking across his scalp lulling Eli into a blissfully blank-minded tranquility.
He has to concentrate hard on staying awake--a lit cigarette held loosely between middle and forefinger. Gabe keeps reaching with his free hand to grasp Eli's wrist, pull the cigarette up to his lips for a drag. The stereo--cheap, old and dusty--in the corner is leaking a steady stream of music into the room, something Eli's never heard before but likes. Carefully, Gabe takes the cigarette butt from between Eli's fingers and crushes it out in the ashtray sitting on the mattress next to them. With an awkward stretch, he places it on the nightstand and wraps his arm around Eli's shoulder.
"Don't fall to sleep on me," he mumbles into the crown of Eli's head. He rubs up and down Eli's bare calf with his socked foot, toes climbing higher to tickle at the skin behind his knee, sending a pleasant little shiver through him.
"Won't." Eli mumbles back, rubbing his lightly stubbled cheek against Gabe's sternum.
"Will so, if you don't get off'a me." His tone is accusatory, though he makes no move to unhook his ankle from round Eli's leg.
"You didn't get to finish, earlier," Eli blurts out, referring to their little interlude in their rented room, before Jen's call. He feels Gabe's chuckle as well as he hears it.
"So?" he says flippantly, dragging his blunt fingernails lightly up and down Eli's back, making his breath hitch slightly.
"Well, I mean...I'm just...I'm just saying." Eli stammers, mentally kicking himself. It's been a long day of high-emotion, his exhaustion making his tongue at bit looser than he'd normally like.
"You offerin'?" Eli can hear the grin in Gabe's voice before he even tilts his head up to see.
"Would--would you like...?"
"I ain't one to turn down free orgasms, mate." His grin widens as he hooks his ankles into Eli, just under his arse. "You wanna?" Eli is sure his face is going to burn a hole through Gabe's chest, his voice failing him. He nods. "Then get up here and kiss me, mate."
And he does, really noticing for the first time just how unshaven Gabe's jaw is--the scrape of stubble on stubble rasping like a cabasa. Gabe murmurs soft encouragements into his mouth, and if it wasn't going on half two in the morning, Eli might've held a firmer grip on his inhibitions--his mouth blazing a warm, wet trail across Gabe's jaw and down his neck. Gabe's hands are everywhere at once, it seems to Eli, down his back and up his ribs, in his hair and on his arse, gripping hard at his upper arms as Gabe grinds his hips up against him, teasing them both through the thin cotton of their pants, pushing Eli's pelvis down into him with his strong leg muscles.
Eli allows his head to loll forward, tucked into Gabe's shoulder. Gabe turns his head, nose pressed into Eli's neck, sucking at the slightly salty skin before biting down, sucking harder. Eli groans and Gabe pulls off his neck with a pant, quickly transforming into a breathless laugh as he presses his head back into the pillow.
"Was'so funny?" Eli slurs into his flesh, eyes closed tight, hips still rolling even as Gabe continues to laugh.
"We're gonna...come in our pants...like a couple of--mmm--horny teenagers." Eli's never heard anyone laugh and moan simultaneously, but he quickly decides it's one of his favorite sounds. He chuckles back, at a loss of what to say, opting instead to continue rocking his hips into Gabe's. He can't help the gasp that escapes him when their cocks line up almost perfectly, rolling his hips over and over. Gabe's calves flex tight against Eli's arse, his nails digging into his shoulders.
"Fuck!" Gabriel gasps out, hips canting to meet Eli's. "I mean it, Eli. You make me come like this and you're doing the washing. Tonight. Because I--oh fuck, Eli, don't stop. Don't you dare fucking stop or I'll kill you, I swear to god, I'll murder you with my bare hands, Eli. Eli, Eli," he repeats, brow furrowed as they rock together. A rush of heat hits Eli's face, and he promises himself he can feel embarrassed about this all he wants tomorrow, but right now he just needs so badly to come he's losing sight of himself, of his embarrassment, of his self-consciousness. He brings his hand down, jerking first his boxers then Gabe's little blue pants down just far enough to free their erections. Their harsh breaths mix with the sound of drums on the track playing in the background as Eli takes them both in his large fist, both of them leaking steadily enough to make the slide of skin on skin almost overly slick.
He fists their cocks hard and fast, beyond ready to come, his balls aching. Gabe is gone somewhere, his mouth slack as he stares unfixedly at some point just over Eli's shoulder, his eyes glassy. He comes just after a few more pulls, Eli slowing down and easing up on the pressure as Gabe's body goes rigid, a strangled groan breaking free of his throat, splashing his release over the tensed muscles of his stomach. He lays boneless against the mattress, looking just as Eli had imagined him so many weeks ago as they pored over the blueprints to the bank--satiated and gasping against the pale blue and white striped sheets Jen bought, a film of sweat making his exposed skin glow, his chest heaving with each breath, his hair a wreck.
Eli pushes roughly into his fist with a partially stifled grunt, spilling onto Gabe's already sullied stomach, the arm he's bracing himself on shaking as he rides it out, Gabe's cock still in hand, twitching against him. He brings his arm back down to the mattress finally, pulling large gulps of air deep into his lungs as Gabe's fingers glance over his skin. He can feel Gabe's knuckles brush against his stomach, wondering dimly in the back of his mind just what he's doing, the answer coming soon enough when Gabe's slick fingers press against his bottom lip and he opens up without a thought, sucking their mingled release off Gabe's digits before rolling off to the side, head barely on the edge of the pillow.
The last thing he feels before dropping off into exhausted sleep is Gabe curling around him as he pulls the duvet up over them both.