One Moment of Perfect

by Vivi

There's something oddly still about a room in the aftermath of good sex. A wet, sated pulse between your legs, skin prickling with the chill of drying sweat. Breath slowing, sheets rustling and no words, just completely comfortable and quiet.

In other words, perfect.

The rasp of a lighter, followed by the faint hiss of a cigarette being lit broke through the little moment of perfect and Elijah squinted open one eye to peer at his apparently less content bedmate.

It was almost worth the effort for the view. Most of the sheet was twisted carelessly around Orli's hips, only just hiding the good parts and he had one bare foot propped against the side table as he smoked, bouncing idly with the sheet inching higher with every shift of his leg. If the moment wasn't already perfect, Elijah might have been tempted again-- his second eye opened to join the efforts of the first, and then both narrowed suspiciously as they studied Orli's face.

Sexy as hell, yeah, but that wasn't all. Orli looked distant, even thoughtful. In Elijah's experience, even before he had met Orli, looking thoughtful after sex never brought good things.

This time did not seem to be an exception to the rule, either.

"The next time we have sex, d'you think you could have your eyes open?" Orli said, almost idly, and Elijah might have even thought it wasn't important, if he didn't know better.

He was going to regret it, he knew even before he said it, but, Hell, that wasn't a statement to ignore. "Why?" he asked, warily.

Orli laughed and the faint bitterness in the sound startled him. "Look, I know when I'm being used as a substitute, I don't think it's asking too much for you to have sex with me for once." He stuck the cigarette in his mouth and reached out with his newly free hand, stroking a path down the still damp skin of Elijah's chest and lower, to the paler skin that marked the line of his bathing suit.

Elijah closed his eyes, bit his tongue a fraction too hard as Orli's fingers found flesh that was still too sensitive to touch and touched it anyway. And Elijah let him.

Because Orli was good, really good, bordering on incredible in that way it can only be with someone you really want and can't believe you are actually getting. He could be tender and he could be rough, drawing it out until Elijah wanted to scream or hit him just to wipe that smug fucking grin off his face and sometimes he did and by the end they'd both have bruises. He could be just about anything Elijah ever wanted and he could only hope that Orli was getting something close to that out of him, because he wasn't sure and Orli wasn't telling.

Everything Elijah wanted. Almost.

"I'm sorry. I d-don't do it on purpose," he stuttered, watching Orli watch him through the cage of his lashes.

"Yeah. I know." Orli blew out a stream of bitter smoke right into his face, and Elijah inhaled used nicotine and Orli's breath into his lungs. "Sometimes soul mates weren't meant to fuck," Orli offered idly, fingers both gentle and cruel as they danced over Elijah's skin. He opened his eyes then, wide, looking deliberately into Orli's.

"Is that what you tell yourself every time you see Viggo?" he dared.

For one moment he thought he'd pushed it too far. Orli face tightened in real anger before he turned away completely and crushed his cigarette out, the ashtray skittering off the side table to land on the floor in a clatter of fragmented glass.

But in the next instant Elijah found himself pinned flat against the bed, with sharp teeth savaging his earlobe before Orli hissed, "Fine. Keep your fucking eyes closed. But don't you ever call me Sean."

He didn't nod. He didn't need to, and he knew there would be bruises this time, bruises and probably even high necked shirts the way Orli's teeth seemed determined to devour whatever part of him they could reach. Elijah took it, took everything Orli offered him, waiting and ready to get everything he wanted, for the brief moment of perfect that was waiting for him.

But he didn't open his eyes. He never asked Orli if he opened his.

-finis-

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