He's Not My Type

19

Don't you agree, Elijah?" Leigh-Anne asks over the electronic beat of the music.
"Of course I agree."
"Good, then-"
"He's so annoying, though," he tells her, not taking his eyes off the dance floor. "I still can't believe he left the house wearing those jeans."
"Wait. Are we -" Leigh-Anne chokes out a laugh. "It's been months, Elijah! Are we really still complaining about Christian's black skinnies?"
"Not just the jeans!" Elijah waves an arm at the dance floor. "It's the t-shirt, too. Why does he have to look like that?"
He takes a frustrated sip of his strawberry daquiri.
"You know, I can't even tell if you're jealous or turned on right now," she says.
"Neither can I," Elijah mutters.
He can't quite tear his eyes away from the dance floor. Steve's DJing at Triangle tonight and Christian rounded them all up to turn out for him. The strobe lights alternately light up each of them in the crowd: Christian, Shawn, Pieter, Bebe, Perrie, some of the others. Richard and David are here, too, but sat at the bar. David refuses to dance, apparently on principle, and Richard refuses to leave David's side.
"Probably more of the second one," Elijah decides after some deliberation.
"I... don't think I needed to know that," Leigh-Anne says.
"You're the one who brought it up."
"Actually," she says more loudly as the music picks up in volume. "I thought we were talking about football just now."


When Elijah comes up behind his boyfriend, he feels him tense for just a split second. But then Christian looks behind him, meeting Elijah's eyes with a crinkly-eyed smile, and relaxes against back against his chest.
Elijah spreads his hands over Christian's stomach and bends down to press a kiss to the side of his neck.
Christian giggles and twists around, lips brushing against Elijah's ear when he says, "Saw you watching me, babe."
"I was not."
"Been obsessed with my arse all night," Christian sing-songs over the music.
"Lies," Elijah informs him.
"Could barely take your eyes off it. And now, look at you." Christian pushes back said arse against Elijah's crotch. Elijah scrabbles helplessly for a grip on his hips as he grinds back against him shamelessly.
Elijah tries to breathe, to just focus on the pink triangles lighting up the walls. Tries not to be as turned on as he is right now.
Christian twists back again to say next to whisper, "Careful, babe, don't want any misunderstandings, I'll think you want to top."
"Heyyy." Elijah pouts.
Christian giggles and turns around in Elijah's arms. He reaches down, traces Elijah's helplessly hard cock through his jeans. "Hi, darling."
"Hi." Elijah can't resist smiling back at his ridiculous, absolutely mental boyfriend.
Christian kisses him and then informs him, "You taste like strawberries."
"You taste like strawberries," Elijah replies nonsensically.
Christian just murmurs and kisses him again more deeply.
"Reckon I taste like strawberries now," Christian says when he pulls back. His eyes are sparkling in the strobe lights. Maybe Elijah has been staring for a while because Christian leans in and says, "What's that look for?"
"You look happy," Elijah tells him.
"Do I?" Christian says. He slips his hands around to Elijah's arse and squeezes. "Well, I get to take this hot, twinky, bottom home with me tonight, so-"


"I could do it, though," Elijah says, daringly, a few hours later as they stumble up the hazardously narrow stairs of Christian's terrace.
Christian squeezes his hand. "Could what, babe?"
"I could top you."
Christian halts on a step and looks at him, eyes widening. Elijah bites his bottom lip. It's been months and they've done a lot but they haven't done that. They haven't even talked about doing that, but it's been on Elijah's mind more lately. And especially on his mind after seeing Christian on the dance floor all night.
"Haz, you know I was just teasing you, yeah?" Christian says.
"I know."
Christian looks at him for a long moment. "You're serious."
Elijah nods. "If you want me to. I mean, I probably won't be very good at it, though. You know I've never-"
"Darling," he says as he tugs Elijah into the bedroom and pushes him back against the closed door. "I don't think it's possible that you wouldn't be."


Christian shivers under him as he circles his finger around his hole and moans into Elijah's mouth as he pushes inside.
"That's good, babe," Christian murmurs against his lips. He wraps a leg around Elijah's waist to give him a better angle and shamelessly pushes back against Elijah's hand.
"Yeah?"
"So good."
Elijah kisses him again. And then keeps giving him soft kisses as he gently opens him up. Christian smiles against his lips and arches against the slow thrusts of Elijah's fingers. They're both a little giggly from beer and daquiris and dancing. Sometimes they come together in a desperate rush, but sometimes it's like this, a little softer, slower, sweeter.
"Babe," Christian says after a while. "Still want to fuck me?"
"I do," Elijah says, feeling his heart pick up again. "But you don't need more? I'm sort of, um."
"Big?" Christian finishes for him, reaching down, his hand closing over his dick, thick and hard between them. "You are, babe. Got a fucking fantastic cock."
Elijah licks his lips. Thinks about watching Christian slip his mouth over Elijah, looking up at him from under his long lashes, blue eyes not leaving his as he takes him slowly, smoothly, all the way down.
Sex with Christian is like something from porn sometimes. Like, commercial porn, with good lighting and everything exaggerated and unrealistic and too good to be true. Except it is true. It is real.
Elijah can't believe he ever thought being with Christian would make him feel like less. That this boy, who looks like a punk sort of twink, sassy and pretty and with a body out of every gay man's fantasies - that this boy, tops Elijah, tells Elijah he's pretty, kisses Elijah's painted fingernails, tells Elijah he's good -
Elijah doesn't think he's ever felt more like himself than when he's with Christian.
"I don't need more, babe," Christian promises, kissing him again. "You know I've got a dildo or two around."
Elijah does know. He's seen them. And there are always nights they don't spend together and so he's also heard over the phone, more than once, Christian describe in detail exactly how it feels to fuck himself with them.
"That pink one's about your size," Christian murmurs. "Always imagine it's you in me."
Elijah pulls back just a little, letting his fingers slip out of Christian. "You imagined this? Like, you, um, fantasized about... me?"
Christian laughs. "Are you actually surprised?"
"You could've told me, though," Elijah insists, meeting his eyes. "You should've said how much you wanted this."
Christian gives him a soft smile and pushes his fingers through Elijah's hair. It's getting longer, almost past his shoulders now.
"I think about doing everything with you. But I only want what you want, H," Christian tells him. "Now, how do you want me? Like this? Hands and knees? Want me to ride you?"
"I-" Elijah doesn't even know. "Any way. I just want you, Lou. I want to be good for you."
Elijah knows that doesn't sound quite like anything a real top would say, but Christian doesn't seem to mind at all. He's smiling up at Elijah, eyes sparkling, as he assures him, "You're always good for me, darling."
He reaches for the lube to slick up his cock and says, "You'll tell me what to do, though?"
"If you want me to, yeah."
"I want you to."

"Wait, no, don't move," Elijah yelps.
Christian stills underneath him, eyes widening. "You alright?"
Elijah is definitely not all right.
"Babe. Look at me." Christian pushes Elijah's hair away from his face. "What's wrong?"
"I'm going to come, Lou," he says. And if he comes in the first five seconds of barely pushing inside his boyfriend for the first time, he'll never be all right again.
"What?" Christian sounds incredulous.
Elijah is propped over him, Christian's muscled calves over his shoulders, and his arms are already trembling from the effort of keeping himself still. He's buried to the hilt inside his boyfriend and - is it so overwhelming because he went too fast? God. That was at least half Christian's fault. He'd pushed up against him so impatiently as soon as he'd barely had the tip of his cock in. Fuck.
"You didn't tell me it was like this, Lou," Elijah accuses him. Christian is hot and tight inside and it's torture. He can barely think.
"Like what?" Christian asks.
"It's just so much." Elijah forces his eyes open, to meet Christian's intent blue eyes. "I can feel you everywhere, Lou, all around me. It's the same but it's so different. I need to catch my breath."
Christian wipes the sweat off Elijah's brow. "I know."
"You feel it, too?" Elijah asks.
"I'm so, so in love with you, H." Christian rubs his thumb over Elijah's bottom lip. "Course I feel it, too."