Chapter Text
Alarms blare in Elliot’s ears as soon as 1x found him. His breathing quickens and he tries to get up, but the deep cuts and sore muscles scream at him for rest. His legs gave out as soon as he stood up, falling harshly on his stomach. The dirt beneath him dusted up and clings to his sweat, clumping up.
A groan makes its way out of his throat as he ignores his aching muscles to crawl away from the killer.
1x watches in amusement at the pitiful attempt to escape. Laughter erupts, grainy and loud. “How I love seeing you survivors try to… survive.” Ticking then joins the alarm, signaling he’s about to throw a projectile.
Elliot squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for the glitches that cloud his vision and the poison that burns his body. Then, a gunshot pierces through all the noise. Unmistakable and, in a way, comforting. A deep, guttural scream escapes the killer. It left him paralyzed as they try to take the bullet out from their torso. Elliot took this as a chance to run away despite his body screaming at him to collapse. The adrenaline kept him going. His running speed increases and the piercing wind cools him down.
Finally, he found a spot he deemed safe and slid down the wall. Elliot’s head starts to spin from the blood loss and his breathing gets deeper, close to passing out.
“Elliot.” A whisper of his name grounds him enough to stay awake. “Elliot, here. Take this. You need this way more than me.”
Chance. His usual cocky tone boils down to a serious and concern one as they studied Elliot’s state.
A med kit enters Elliot’s view and with a trembling hand, he takes it. His movements were slow and sluggish and his vision was beginning to form stars. A whimper escapes as his hands start to disobey him. The gauze slips through his fingertips and he couldn’t think straight.
“Shh, you’re alright. Here let me help you.” Chance reassures the pizza boy. He picks up the gauze and scoots closer to the other. With a delicate hand, they lift Elliot’s arm to get better space to wrap him up. Tight enough to stop the bleeding, but enough that it doesn’t cut off his circulation. Chance then moves onto his other cuts. Each bandage that Chance puts on him, the better Elliot feels.
They finally covered the last major cut and he exhales as if he were holding their breath.
“How do you feel?” Chance softly asks.
It took a little longer for Elliot to respond than usual, but the question finally registers as blood returns. He no longer feels cold and his vision gets better with each passing second. “I feel great,” he still slurs slightly. “Thank you.” Elliot takes a deep breath to calm his heart rate. He leans his head back to the wall again and closes his eyes. The sharp pain subsides into a dull one.
Elliot opens his eyes in almost a panic. With his still aching muscles, he digs into his pizza carrier and takes out a slice. The melty cheese almost slides off the slice as it droops from the lack of support. “Please, take it,” he insists.
Chance shakes his head and stands back up. His cocky facade comes back. “Save it for someone who actually needs it.” Then he flips his coin, landing on heads. They celebrate in his head. Lady Luck is on their side today. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t blow up on me,” he mumbles out to himself as they inspect their gun.
Elliot stifles a laugh and shakes his head in a joking manner. “Give him your best shot,” he encourages. Chance nods and turns around, but not before Elliot softly grabs them by the hem of their suit, stopping him from leaving just yet. “And..” he starts off. “Thank you again for saving me. I know we would still come back alive no matter what. But, it definitely helps my sanity from dying over and over again.”
Chance can only stare at him through his sunglasses. They bring their hand up to their neck and rubs it in a soothing manner. The sparkle in Elliot’s eyes flustered him. He had that look of a kid looking at his hero. Chance had to force himself to look away and breathe silently to calm his speeding up heart. He looks back at the other, his hand still holding onto their suit. With the last bit of confidence he had, they pushed their sunglasses down and winked. “You know it, baby.”
Elliot’s eyes widen slightly and he finally lets go of Chance’s suit. The gambler immediately booked it to find the killer, leaving Elliot stunned.
The pet name echoes in his mind.
“Baby.”
Elliot grabs a fistful of grass and curls into himself. The way their voice got deeper and the slight purr. A smile creeps onto his face and he covers it with a hand. “Telamon, he’s just like that. What’s wrong with me,” he groans out. He takes a deep breath and props up a leg to hoist himself up. With a quick roll of his shoulder and tying the apron tighter, he runs back into the fight to heal whoever needs it.
Fortunately, the round ended with no one dying. There were times someone would be low on health and Elliot would accidentally throw the pizza a little too far. He couldn’t help but beat himself up for it as they all got up from the table, minus him. Screeching chairs and footsteps receding were blocked out as he kept thinking about his mistakes.
“Are you okay, Elliot?”
He jumps at the mention of his name and turns his head. Chance.
“Ah, yeah. I’m okay,” he said airily. Chance raises an eyebrow. Elliot goes back to spacing out and they sigh through their nose. It isn’t all that concerning for him to go quiet sometimes, they all do at some point, especially after a bad round. But this time it felt a little different. Everyone survived with some minor mishaps so Chance is left confused.
And Elliot dwells on the mistakes he’s done. Even while he was working at Builder Brother’s Pizza. If a customer so much as complaint about something, no matter how small, Elliot took the blame on himself and did everything in his power to fix it. In this hell he was dragged into, once he makes a mistake, it costs the whole team. He misses a pizza throw when someone’s on low health, they die. When he gets hit, all the sentinels come in to protect him resulting in a butterfly effect and either he dies or someone else. Elliot spirals in his head, but he didn’t know why. Back at the pizzeria he didn’t think like this. Was it the stress of having to survive everyday? Was it the amount of times he died or watching someone else die? Exhaustion?
“Y’know, you did pretty good last round.” Chance’s voice cuts through his thoughts. Elliot whips his head to look back at them.
“..What?” He questions, close to a whisper.
“Yeah. You did really well. When you threw the last pizza in the direction Guest was running towards. You made sure he can still run without losing the momentum while healing. I thought it was a smart move.” They explain.
“Oh,” was all Elliot could say. He hadn’t think about it in that way. The guilt of his mistake slowly starts to dissipate as Chance’s words reached his degrading brain. “Thank you.” He exhales like he can breathe again.
Chance then reaches into his pocket. Elliot follows his hand in curiosity. They then pull out a deck of cards and shakes it in place to show it off. “You know how to play poker?”
Elliot scoffs playfully and rolls his eyes. “You gamble your life everyday and it’s still not enough?”
“Well, I do love the thrill. But, this time no lives are at stake,” he reassures. With the confidence of his sunglasses hiding his eyes, they travel over the body of Elliot, studying. They smirk and continue the rules of the game, “Only our dignity.”
“What do you mean?”
“Strip poker.”
Elliot’s face gets warm at the suggestion. His index finger and thumb plays with a curl in his hair and shyly looks away. “Are the others joining us or..,” he goes quiet.
Chance would rather die than see Shedletsky’s naked body or the other way around. “Just us. I am not seeing Shedletsky naked.” They roll their head back and stuck his tongue out in disgust. Elliot giggles in response and nods, relaxing again.
They both then snuck their way out of the main cabin where everyone is. Elliot breathed in the fresh air of nighttime without the lingering stench of blood and murder. It was one of those rare moments where he felt he can let his guard down. They entered into one of the spare cabins. No one usually goes into any of them unless they wanted to be alone, which is rare. Everyone found comfort in being with someone.
“And since we have a whole day without any rounds, we can take our time. We can also stop at any point during the game if you’re really uncomfortable.” Chance assured as he begins to shuffle the deck on a small table. Elliot nods and watches the tricks the other was doing. They both pulled up chairs and sat down across each other.
“You said you owned a casino right?” Elliot recalls. Studying the way Chance shuffled the cards like there was an audience watching reminded him when they all introduced themselves (After the initial panic).
Chance raised his eyebrows and beams at the thought of his business. “Yeah. I really hope we can go back. I miss the noise of the machines and the celebratory screams of people winning. People booked games with me to see if they can beat the ultimate master,” they gloated. Elliot couldn’t help but roll his eyes playfully again.
“You actually came into my pizzeria at times,” Elliot admits.
“You worked at Builder Brother’s Pizza?!” Chance exclaims in shock. Elliot smiles wider and nods. “No way! Their pizzas were the best. No wonder I like yours,” he says flirtatiously with a wink. Elliot chuckles back and shakes his head in amusement. “How come I didn’t see you then?”
Chance begins to hand the cards to Elliot, facing them down. Elliot begins to pick them up and analyze the deck he got.
“I was in the back making the pizzas every time you came in. Every Friday at six in the afternoon, on the dot,” Elliot recites like a script.
Chance’s sunglasses slip down his nose as he stared at Elliot who seemed oblivious at his shock. They shut their mouth, fixed their sunglasses, and cleared their throat. He then makes his own deck of cards, faced down as well.
“Didn’t count you to be a stalker,” they tease.
Elliot begins to stutter, “I- no! You—! I mean, my coworkers at the front pointed it out! They just tell me everything! That’s all!”
“So you guys gossiped about me,” they pushed the teasing further.
Elliot groans and hides his face behind his deck like it became the most interesting thing in the room. “That’s not what I meant.”
Chance laughs and decides to subside the bullying for a moment. “Why are you telling me this now of all times though?”
“It’s good to see a familiar face that isn’t 007n7,” he grumbles out that last part and Chance laughs again.
“I’m glad you feel that way then. You can go first, by the way.” Chance offers and Elliot nods.
They took notice at the way Elliot’s face morphs into that of confusion. “Um..” he awkwardly says and laughs nervously. Chance raises an eyebrow.
“You do know how to play, right?”
Elliot sheepishly smiles at Chance and curls a finger into his hair. The gambler couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment. “And here I thought I was going to have a challenge,” they pout. “We can play something else then,” he says then sets down his set to rearrange the cards in front of them.
Separating the big stack into four smaller ones and taking a card from the two stacks parallel to each other to put in between those two, facing down. They put the other two stacks on each other’s side. One for Elliot and one for Chance.
“We’ll be playing speed. You know that one?” Elliot nods. “Okay, good. Every man for themselves then. This’ll be uncivilized so you gotta be quick because I definitely don’t want to see you naked.”
“The feeling’s mutual then,” Elliot retorts back.
Chance brings the back of their hand to his forehead like a damsel in distress. “Ah! I’m hurt! Who wouldn’t want to see my handsome and gorgeous body?” Elliot shrugs and Chance sulks. “Okay, well now I’m for sure not going easy on you.”
“Aw, you were? I’m flattered.”
They both pick up the cards in between. Chance counts down to three and they flip it. Immediately, Elliot puts a three of spades and Chance follows it with a four of hearts.
They didn’t take turns, if they can put down a card, they just did it without remorse. Elliot growls as he lost the round. Chance put down all his cards and yells out, “Speed!”
Elliot glares at them and with a sigh, he takes off his visor. He puts it to the side as Chance gathers up all the cards to shuffle them again. A smirk creeps up to his face and they don’t try to hide it. “Just the visor?”
“Unlike you, I don’t have much layers of clothing,” Elliot explains.
Chance hums. With a boost of confidence he says, “Easier for me then.”
Elliot couldn’t help but have a blush bloom onto his face. He looks away, avoiding the eyes (well, sunglasses) of the gambler. The seriousness of the situation finally sets in all way too late. Unfortunately, Elliot’s just as competitive as Guest is with Shedletsky whenever they have an arm wrestling match.
The next round results in Elliot winning. He couldn’t help but rub it in Chance’s face. The loser unties his tie and throws it onto the table.
“Just the tie?” Elliot mocks what the other said to him.
They shrug. “I’ll take my chances.”
Elliot wins again in the third round and he laughs in their face. “Seems like Lady Luck isn’t on your side!” Chance stays silent as they take off the fedora, setting aside on the table with the tie.
Chance wins. Elliot grumbles and he takes off the apron to throw it into the pile.
Chance wins again and Elliot almost wanted to accuse them of cheating. Reluctantly, he unbuttons his polo shirt and slips it off. He only had his black long sleeve shirt to cover his upper body. Goosebumps litter his arms as Chance continued to stay silent. The sunglasses hid their prying eyes. Despite that, Elliot felt like they were eating him up. He shivers as the tension in the air gets thicker and the room suddenly gets warmer.
Chance wins the third time. “You have to be cheating! There’s no way you win three in a row!”
Chance hums softly, seeming to be preoccupied. “Then, it just shows that Lady Luck is on my side after all.”
Elliot pauses his accusation and really listened to the other’s voice. There was a different feeling behind it, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it just yet. The loser swallows the excess saliva pooling in his mouth as he looks down at his belt. With a shaking hand, he meticulously unbuckles his belt. Then, slowly pulls it out from the loops of his pants.
Sensually, teasingly, and agonizingly slow.
Chance watches. They don’t blink in fear of missing something. His eyelids hooded and he bites his bottom lip. Their fingers twitch with every loop the belt leaves.
It was no innocent game of whose dignity is at stake. They both knew from the start where it was headed. Only now did it dawned on them that, yes, they have tension. Not animosity or awkwardness, but something thicker and tantalizing. Something just out of reach and maybe this was the final push they need.
The belt is finally out of his pants and dangling from Elliot’s hand. He drops the leather to the ground, making a clinking noise. Chance’s breathing gets deeper and Elliot smiles darkly. Almost as if he were challenging Chance to just take what he wants.
Oh, did Chance want to take. They want both of their clothes on the floor, forgotten as they embrace each other. He wants to hear Elliot’s sweet noises, already imagining how he would sound like. How pretty he would look with blotches of purple all over his neck and torso.
Another round starts and Chance is distracted. They kept eyeing Elliot’s pants where the belt used to be.
“Speed.” Elliot won.
Chance immediately starts to take off his jacket, wasting no time. His pants start to become bothersome, already regretting taking off the jacket.
“Speed.” Chance makes a comeback. They lean back into the chair and props an arm up on the spine to enjoy the show.
Elliot stands up and starts to unbutton his pants. Each pop of a button makes his heart skip a beat. Soon after, the noise of a zipper makes Chance’s hair on their arms raise. They followed every movement of Elliot’s fingers. His fingers finally hook onto the hem of his pants and slowly pushes them down. His boxers finally peaked out.
Pink.
Chance inhales sharply, his breath catches in his throat. A groan almost leaves him as Elliot continues to take them off, revealing the soft color underneath. He shimmied his way out of them. The sway of his hips captivated Chance and they fought the urge to just disregard the game and take what’s in front of them. Their prize is right there, practically half naked. It would be rude to just leave him alone.
The pants finally moved past Elliot’s growing bulge. He made a little noise at the slight stimulation and the cold that hits his sensitive area. He pauses the show and Chance finally looks up at his face. Elliot was so red and his lips slightly quiver. He was already looking at Chance through his lashes. Tears start to prick at his eyes and he covers up his growing heat.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for.. this to pop like that.” Such a small voice.
“Keep going,” Chance blurts out. They then lean forward to get a better view. “Don’t stop.”
Elliot nodded and hesitantly moved his hands to continue removing his pants. Chance studies the way his thighs shook and the way Elliot had his eyes closed the whole time. Finally, the pants bunched up around his feet. Elliot steps out of them and shyly tries to cover himself up with his black shirt.
“Don’t hide from me.” His eyes widen and he looks away, nodding again. He let go of his shirt. Luckily, (Unfortunately for Chance) the shirt was long enough to cover him up. Elliot sat back down on the chair, stiff and a blushing mess. “Wanna end it here?” Chance offers, insinuating exactly what they both want. Elliot bites his lip.
“Please.” Was all it took.
Chance jumps across the table, Elliot doing the same and grabbed each other’s face. They were merely one inch apart. One lunge away from connecting. Elliot glanced at Chance’s lips and opened his to say something, but got cut off by them. The gambler smashed their lips together, teeth clashing and tongues dancing. Elliot moans and twists his head to get impossibly closer.
Without breaking apart, Chance walks around the table to finally embrace him. His arms wrap around his waist and pulls him closer to their body. This time, Elliot moaned louder. His hips buck on Chance, making their clothed erections rub. Chance groans and buck his hips back into Elliot.
Elliot broke the messy kiss, a string of saliva connected them until it fell and broke.
“Before we continue,” Chance pants out. He swallows saliva to ease his dry throat. “I want us to establish a safe word.”
Elliot freezes in shock before snorting. “What’re you trying to do?”
“Nothing too much. Just in case,” Chance brings a hand up and wraps Elliot’s loose curl of hair around his ear. It made his face look brighter and all Chance wants to do more than anything is to make him feel good. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Elliot’s eyes widen. He slowly, hesitantly, brings his head down to Chance’s shoulder. His heart beats so hard, almost as if it wants to break free and give itself to Chance. Like it wants to say, “Yes, I trust you.” Elliot hugs them tighter, thinking about what word to use.
“Pizza is easy to remember,” he finally says. The word might’ve been obvious and Chance chuckles at the thought.
“Pizza it is then,” Chance confirms and leans down to plant light feathered kisses on his neck. The other couldn’t help but laugh at how ticklish it felt. Chance rubs his back to ease his laughter, then licks a stripe. Elliot shudders and grips onto their shoulders.
“You tease too much,” Elliot whispers, softly nudging his head at the others to hint at his impatience.
“Just trying to ease your nerves.”
“What makes you think I’m nervous,” Elliot’s voice almost shakes. Chance took off his sunglasses and sets it on the table. They raised an eyebrow and frowned as if to say, “Seriously?” Elliot rolls his eyes and sighs out a, “Alright.”
Chance kisses his cheek, nose, forehead, ear, then travels down to his neck. They lightly suck on a spot until it turns red then nips at it. Elliot grunts at the nick, his hands lightly squeeze their shoulders. Deemed satisfactory, Chance moves on to another spot. Their hands then travel to Elliot’s stomach. Slowly, he inches down to the hem of his shirt and lifts it up just enough to slip his hand underneath. Elliot’s body flinches at the slightly cold hands.
“I love your reactions,” Chance spoke. “They’re so cute.” He then lets go of his neck and raises the shirt higher, exposing his chest. They softly rub up and down and Elliot whines. Chance’s thumbs land on his nipples. Using his index finger, he lightly pinches and softly rolls them between. Elliot gasps as his body instinctively tries to cave in. “Oh, you’re dirty. You like this, don’t you?”
A whimper couldn’t help but escape from Elliot. “Stop teasing, please,” he pleads.
It was music to Chance’s ears. They give a quick kiss on the lips as an apology and guides him to the bed. Elliot sits down on the edge and just admires the way Chance looks with the soft glow of candles and the fireplace. He wraps his arms around their waist and brings him closer into a hug, resting his head on their stomach. Chance brings a hand up and rakes it through his hair, combing out any knots and massaging his scalp. Despite how bothered they felt, they loved moments where nothing happens just as much. Elliot hums as Chance tugs on his hair and softly scratches his scalp.
Chance finally sits down next to Elliot, who was dazed from the affection, and puts a hand on his lap. They bring him into another kiss. Just as passionate and hungry as the first time. He snakes his left hand around the back of Elliot’s neck, locking him in place. Their right rubs at his thigh, getting closer to his clothed dick. Elliot instinctively squeezes his thighs together and shivers at the soft touch.
“Relax, for me,” Chance whispers. With an exhale, Elliot lets his legs relax, giving room to stroke the inside of his thighs. They give it a light squeeze and Elliot flinches, whining in response. Chance shushes him, bringing him into another kiss.
“Please, hurry. I can’t take it anymore,” Elliot pleads shakily. A whimper almost escapes him before Chance softly places their hand on his clothed erection, earning a moan. His hips buck into the touch. Chance pushes him down to fully lay down on the bed and lifts up his shirt using his free hand to look at his chest again, admiring his build and the way his chest stutters with each shaky breath. They start to slowly pump his dick, still through his boxers. Elliot moans louder and covers his mouth.
The friction felt so good.
“Let me hear you,” Chance asks in such a smooth voice. Seductive and kind. Elliot couldn’t help but obey his words and let the pleasure take over. He whines as Chance speeds up just a little, still taunting. The build up of his orgasm comes quickly. He grips the bedsheets with one hand and grabs onto Chance’s forearm with the other to ground himself.
Then, it leaves as fast as it came. Chance retracts his hand and Elliot almost panics. “Chance-! No.. Please…” The buildup dulls and he’s left twitching and bucking for any type of relief. Chance decided to be mean and just watched him writhe underneath them. Elliot’s face flushes and tears prick at his eyes. “I can’t. Please..” He whimpers out. He clenches his teeth in frustration and decided to take it into his own pace.
Chance saw the hand reaching to his dick and catches it before it even got close. They both struggle for power. Elliot tried to yank his hand away and push the other off, but they didn’t budge. Chance smirks as soon as Elliot begins to give up, panting. They take his other hand and bring them together to pin them above. Elliot struggles a bit more before finally giving in. His tears slowly fall and his breath shudders as he tries to control his breathing.
With Elliot’s chest still exposed, Chance lowers their head to his stomach and gives it a long lick upwards. Elliot softly moans and arches into their tongue. The soft muscle almost tickled—if it weren’t for the obvious wet patch in his boxers and his flushed face, he would’ve giggled.
God, he would do anything for release.
Every friction from his boxers has him in a daze. It’s small, but it’s getting the job done.
Chance had noticed the small bits of relief and decided to hook his fingers at the band of his boxers. Slowly, he peeled it down, revealing Elliot’s weeping dick. Red and angry and pleading.
Elliot shudders at the air hitting him. He lifted his hips so Chance can fully take it off. The slide of the soft cotton against his skin gives him goosebumps. An involuntary shudder wracks through him, covering his eyes using his now free arm.
Finally, the boxers were off and Elliot expected mercy.
“I don’t think you deserve it.”
What?
He removes his arm quickly and looks at the gambler, eyes glossy and wide. Chance couldn’t be that mean.
Silence filled the room. The crackle of the fireplace felt like it was mocking him. Suddenly, his chest felt heavy and his throat closes up. Chance moves, not to tend to Elliot, but to remove his shirt. Each pop of a button was like a countdown. His dick twitches, asking for attention—it goes ignored.
It itches him. Something deep within Elliot itches and he couldn’t scratch it.
He starts to get anxious.
It bubbles up and he tries his best to ignore it, continue this act for the other, but it was getting hard.
He felt ignored. Unwanted. Why didn’t he deserve to feel good? He did what he was supposed to do. Lay there and look pretty, right?
His throat dries up and he swallows.
Chance takes off their shirt then moves on to their pants. A sliver of hope as they undo their belt.
“I should leave you like this.”
No.
“Make you beg for it, like the slut you probably are.”
The words pang in Elliot’s chest as if it physically hurt to hear those words. He bites his lip. A pathetic attempt to stop the real tears.
Chance steps back to continue working on his pants
“Well?” Ugly. “Or are you too dumb to answer.” Unkind.
The blood that rushed to his dick starts to leave, slowly going limp. Chance hadn’t noticed yet, too focused on their pants. When they bunched to the floor, only then did they finally look at their work.
“Pizza.” It comes out before he could stop it. The tears finally fall and he brings his hands up to quickly wipe them away, simultaneously hiding his face—protecting himself from the degrading words he expected.
Chance stood, shocked and unmoving. Their legs lock up and their mind screams to scoop Elliot up to hide him from the world. Guilt creeps up his chest like bile, it burns and leaves a nasty taste.
“Elliot,” they call out. A broken sob answers back. Their heart drops and they swiftly move to sit by his head. With a gentle hand, Chance rakes it through Elliot’s hair just how he liked it. A contradictory of his previous words. Their mind spirals as he continues to comfort the other. He hushes and coos until the weeping subsides into even weaker noises.
Finally, Elliot looks at them with furrowed eyebrows and glossy eyes. He bites his quivering lip, stopping himself from making any more noises and to distract his mind from the words echoing in his head.
“Elliot,” Chance softly calls out again. They stop petting his head and bring their hands to cup at his face, wiping the tears with his thumbs. “Are you okay?”
“No.” Is what Elliot wanted to say. He didn’t trust himself to speak—afraid that if he did, it would just burden Chance even more. Because despite how much Elliot needed comfort, he always put others before him. That’s just who he is. It’s how he always will be.
And the Spectre took advantage of that by making sure he couldn’t fight back.
Elliot’s mind drifts into a fog-like state as Chance plants featherlight kisses all over his face. The only thing grounding him is their breathing and the hand that rakes through his hair again.
Gentle. Kind.
Chance.
“Chance,” he slurs out, voice hoarse and pitched.
“I’m here,” they say almost desperately.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, on the verge of bursting out in tears for the second time. “I..I don’t know what happened,” he sniffs and takes a deep breath.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. There’s no need to be sorry,” Chance reassures. They plant more kisses, breath fanning delicately like a second shy kiss. “But, can you tell me what I did wrong?” He asks.
Elliot looks away again, finding the dancing fire to be more interesting. Shame crawls up his chest and he starts to feel nauseous. “I…” The words were caught in his throat and swallowing became difficult. It wasn’t the most ideal situation for his customer service skills to shine—especially during something so intimate. He couldn’t help but take the blame for it all.
Chance gently squeezes his thigh to encourage him. A silent, “I’m here.”
Elliot takes another breath to ease his nausea. He battles against his instincts to smile and nod like a robot with only one purpose.
“I..” Elliot starts off again, pitched and wobbly. “Your words,” he strains out. Almost as if it hurt to admit something affected him. “I just,” he pauses, trying to think about the best way to say it. “It got to my head.. Is all..”
Chances eyebrows furrow in realization.
There was a beat of silence. A strong crackle of the fireplace makes Elliot almost flinch. His breathing gets deeper. Elliot notices the cologne Chance wears. Where did he get it? It smells expensive, but in a way, comforting.
Finally, Chance sighs softly and plants another kiss above Elliot’s eyebrow. “Thank you for telling me. I won’t talk like that again.”
The lack of an apology might’ve thrown off any other person, but to Elliot it was the best outcome. Apologizing would’ve had him spiraling even further.
Chance’s hands begin to rub at his sides again, soothing and soft as if he was making up for the words. Elliot squirms at the light touch, letting out a huff of air. It almost tickled.
(This whole act had him on the verge of laughing at the light touches.)
“You’re so beautiful like this.”
Elliot pauses his movements. The words haven’t fully registered before they continued.
“You did so well telling me what’s wrong,” a chaste kiss to his temple. “So handsome,” a hand rubs at his chest, barely flicking a nipple and Elliot slightly flinches. Chance brings him into an embrace, his leg slots in between Elliot’s like it belonged there. Elliot inhales and the hairs on his arm raises. He curls his arms under Chance’s, hugging them back.
Tender touches and the grounding of a leg between his, Elliot’s mind drifts into a different headspace. The praises clouds his head, taking space and making themselves home.
Blood starts to slowly make its way back to his dick as their leg continues to press at him. Elliot bucks his hip into it and makes a pitched noise. Chance thrusts back into Elliot, earning a louder moan.
“More,” he demands. Chance plants a small kiss at the corner of his lips. Their hand trails down his stomach, past his navel and engulfs his dick with their hands. A wracked sob escapes Elliot at the touch. Chance’s slightly cold hands against Elliot’s warmth.
Elliot’s nails start to softly dig into his back at the touch. Chance moves his hand.
“Please. Chance. I need you,” he pants out breathlessly.
Chance softly shushes him. “Don’t worry,” he speeds up. “You’ll get what you want.”
Moans and the low squelching of Chance’s hand pumping his dick fill the room. Precum as a makeshift lube heightens the pleasure. Elliot’s back arches, gripping the sheets below as his moans pitched higher and louder.
Chance watches the pizza boy crumble beneath him—he didn’t care how loud Elliot was getting. The cabin was secluded enough that no one would hear him from the main one.
They knew he was getting close. Elliot gasps and Chance took it as a chance to collect his lips into another make out session. He moans into his mouth as Elliot takes charge of the kiss. Desperately and impossibly getting closer like he wants to swallow the other whole.
Elliot lets go and gasps again for air before whining. “I’m so close. Chance, Chance, Chance,” he chants.
They slow down to deep strokes, coaxing his climax. Elliot is right at the edge, just about ready to spill. His legs squirm, not knowing what to do.
Finally, the knot snaps and he cums all over his stomach and the hand that continues to pump him, getting it all out. Elliot’s mouth hangs open as he freezes up from the overwhelming tsunami of pleasure. The bedsheet clings to his skin. Chance rubs at his thigh using their clean hand, watching him come undone by just his hand alone. A soft smile creeps onto their face. Elliot’s flushed face, curls clinging to his forehead, his heaving chest littered with faint freckles—if you weren’t looking closely, you would miss it completely.
Elliot pants as his high slowly comes down.
Without saying a word, Elliot sits up to be at eye-level with Chance. His eyes then travel to the obvious bulge of the other. The outline of their dick makes his mouth water, imagining how it would feel on his tongue.
Quietly, they switch positions. Chance being the one laying down and Elliot coming face-to-face with the other’s erection. He peels back the boxers and it springs out, twitching for attention. A hand reaches out to grab the base of it, keeping it in place and he licks a long stripe upwards to the tip. Chance’s breath hitches at the sudden feeling.
“Wow, didn’t know you were that desperate,” they tease, voice strained as Elliot kisses the tip.
He moves his head to be directly above, wrapping his lips around and his tongue pressing against the head. Chance’s hands immediately move to hold into the sides of Elliot’s head, keeping themselves steady. “Telamon, Elliot. Where’d you learn to do that?” he asks rhetorically.
Elliot stays there for a minute before taking a deep breath. Chance was about to say something, but got cut off when Elliot shoves their whole dick into his mouth in one swift motion. He groans, hips almost bucking into the wet warmth. The prominent bulge of where Chance’s dick is at in Elliot’s neck makes his head spin. Elliot couldn’t help but feel underneath his own neck to tell where it ended.
Elliot immediately starts to bob his head, giving Chance no time to prepare himself. He let go of the base to rest his hand on their hips to make sure Chance doesn’t thrust upwards. The last thing Elliot wanted to do was gag.
“Yeah, just like that. Keep going,” they encourage.
Elliot closes his eyes, focusing on the heavy weight and taste on his tongue. A moan pushes out of him, vibrating throughout the other, making them moan too.
Before they got close to the edge, Chance grips onto his hair and delicately pushes him off. A whine rips out of Elliot’s throat in protest. The thin line of saliva mixed with precum connects them before it falls.
Chance’s heart stutters at the way Elliot looks. Glossy, swollen lips. Drool stains around his mouth and he swallows the excessive mixed saliva. The bob of his adam’s apple captivates him. Hooded, teary, eyes with blown pupils stare back at him.
“I need to be inside you,” Chance pants out, almost animalistic. Elliot slowly blinks back, still dazed.
Without warning, he begins to crawl on top of him, burying his face in their neck. A slow inhale, taking in the smell of cologne mixed with sweat and something entirely Chance.
“Elliot,” they call out mindlessly. He takes in the smell of the other as well. The subtle scent of shampoo in his hair mixed with flour from the pizza dough. Comforting and entirely Elliot. A hand rests behind his head, playing with each curl he felt.
With two fingers, Elliot put them at Chance’s lips. Confused, they look at the fingers then at him.
“Suck,” he demands, panting and impatient.
Chills run down Chance’s spine at the sudden change in power. He could get used to this. Without a second thought, Chance wrapped his lips around the digits. His tongue playing around with his fingers. Elliot watches closely, licking his lips at the sight.
Deemed coated, Elliot takes them out and reaches behind him. The pad of his finger presses against his hole and he jolts at the feeling. With a deep breath, he pushes past the ring of muscle and soft moans at the small intrusion. Sinking deeper until his finger was fully engulfed in his own warmth.
“Ah..” Another finger stretches him more.
“Shh, that’s it,” Chance coos, comforting Elliot. “You’ll feel so good once this is done.” He encourages more. Their hand slides down along his spine, soothing his discomfort.
Elliot then begins to slowly pump his fingers in and out. A groan escapes him. The pace was almost agonizing, not because it hurt, but it was just too slow. Despite that, they both knew to take it at that pace for now.
Instinctively, Elliot spreads his fingers a little to hurry the process. His body flinches and Chance kisses the stray tears that were silently falling.
A third finger is added, earning a pained grunt this time. “Chance,” he whimpers out, subconsciously seeking for comfort.
”You’re okay,” they reassure.
As soon as he thought he was ready, he takes them out.
A moan escapes the both of them when Elliot had finally grabbed Chance’s base and slowly sunk down onto their throbbing dick—the saliva served as lube.
A pained grunt escapes Elliot as he kept lowering himself. Chance kisses his temple and pets his hair as encouragement.
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”
“That’s it.”
“Making me feel so good.”
“You’re all I want and more, baby.”
Each praise had Elliot whimpering for each inch he pushed into himself.
And Chance? They can only admire the way Elliot reacted to each word that pours out. Drinking it in like he hasn’t had fresh water in days. Now, he’s drowning in it.
With a loud moan, Elliot swiftly sat all the way down. His back arches and his legs quiver.
Chance continues to rub his back in a soothing manner. Elliot breaths deeper, trying to ease his own slight discomfort.
“That’s it. That’s my good boy,” they almost purr out. Voice dipped low and hungry, like he’s holding himself back.
Elliot’s heart jumps and his legs squeeze at their sides.
Chance grunts, “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?” His hands then travel lower to grope at Elliot’s ass, slightly massaging it before urging him to lift up. Elliot almost whimpers at the cock that was buried deep inside slowly leaving. “Twitching around me,” they continue. They stop lifting Elliot up, leaving his tip in. Elliot pants, bracing himself for the overwhelming pleasure. “Wow, you really are beautiful.” A kiss on the cheek before they finally slam him back down—a contradictory from the shy kiss.
A moan turning into a groan pushes its way out of Elliot as the ruthless thrusting continues. Chance begins panting, mixing with the other’s loud noises.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Elliot chants. His eyes roll back and his nails dig at their shoulder as Chance takes over. Their hands still gripped onto his ass to steady him. Elliot then captures Chance into another kiss—sloppy and uncoordinated, but they didn’t care. The slapping of skin and the mixture of moans filled the room along with the smell of sex. “Keep going! Mmh! Don’t stop!” He moans louder.
Saliva piles up in Elliot’s mouth, a bit of drool escapes at the corner. His whole body shivers when Chance had finally hit the spot, stars fill his vision and he just about almost screams. “Right there!”
“I’m close,” Chance grits out, feeling the familiar climax inching closer.
It encouraged Elliot to start jumping. He sits up (reluctantly) and reaches behind him to rest his hands at their thighs for balance. Chance grunts at the shift in weight before really looking at the one above. The sight almost made him cum.
Elliot’s curls were completely messed up—with each bounce Elliot did, his hair follows. His mouth slacks open, a completely fucked out face, the soft light from the fireplace dances across his skin making him look impossibly softer. Each bump of muscle and fat were defined by the light. Hickies littered his skin like splattered paint on a canvas.
Chance’s eyes roll back as their grip on Elliot’s waist tightens in search for some grounding.
Turned out he did end up coming from the sight.
“Finally..mm..” Elliot whispers out in between a moan. The feeling of being filled made him cum for the second time. His dick twitches with each spurt that comes out, slightly overstimulated.
Elliot falls back with Chance’s dick still inside, panting and gross.
Chance shifts to sit up which resulted in popping out of him. Elliot grunts in response, still sensitive. They watched their spent ooze out of him, hypnotized by the way it piles up on the bedsheet. Elliot begins to squirm shyly from feeling a pair of eyes watching him and Chance chuckles.
They move to pick up Elliot by his upper body. He moans in protest, but the familiar warmth shut him up. Half of Elliot’s body now lays on Chance, careful to avoid their sensitive cock.
“You did so well,” he praises once more. Elliot’s eyes begin to droop from exhaustion and the soft words, lulling him into a quiet stillness. “You can go to sleep on the other bed. I’ll clean up from here, sweet thing.”
And with that, Elliot falls asleep, but not before feeling another kiss on his forehead.