A piercing pain through his head woke Elliot first, dragging him spitefully from his sleep like a sudden gong vibrating through his entire body. He could almost feel his heart beating in his temples, pricking right behind his eyes. He groaned long, turning and burying his face further into his pillows. While the curtains were pulled shut, the light of morning still streamed through the cracks, illuminating his bedroom further than his eyes could bear.
Elliot groaned again into his pillows.
He stayed like that for several minutes, before realizing he was not going to fall back asleep anytime soon. Rolling over, slowly pushing himself to a seated position, he rubbed at his eyes, pressed his fingers to his temples, and tried blindly assessing the wildness of his hair.
That's when he noticed the man sitting in the corner of his room, neck stuck at a crooked angle, Hunter looked practically dead in the armchair. He stared, at the mess of his blond hair, the way his chest expanded on each deep breath. Lashes brushed against the curves of his cheeks.
"Hunter?" He called, voice coming out in the middle of a crack, throaty and weary. He cleared his throat, but Hunter didn't so much as stir. Elliot grunted, moving and stumbling from the bed and towards Hunter in the corner.
"Hunter?"
Still nothing.
Elliot carefully reached a hand and poked him on the cheek. "Are you dead or something?"
Not even a flinch.
He poked harder.
"Stop touching me," Hunter suddenly grunted.
"I thought you were dead."
Hunter's eyes fluttered, lips parting in a heavy breath. "So you thought to poke me until I was resurrected?"
Elliot scowled. "What are you doing here?"
The blond slowly moved his head, finding the repercussions of his arrangements in the clear ache of his neck. Elliot could almost feel the ghost of that pain creep up his own shoulders.
"Sleeping," Hunter groaned. "What does it look like?"
Elliot folded his arms over his chest, tipping his head down to better look at the other. "Why are you in my room?"
The blond shifted further in his seat, straightening his posture. His eyes didn't meet Elliot's. "I brought you home last night."
"And you thought it was okay to stay the night?"
"It's not like I slept in the bed with you."
"Oh, yes, thank gods for that," Elliot uttered with great sarcasm.
Hunter rolled his eyes. "You were supposed to have a bag packed to come back to my place. You passed out on the bed before even starting."
Elliot sighed and rubbed at his temples. That's when he finally noticed his lack of clothes. He stared down at his bare chest, bare legs. In normal circumstances, he wouldn't mind getting caught this naked, in only his briefs, but he stood before Hunter right now. He felt a heat ignite at his core and tremble up his spine.
"You stripped me?" Elliot gaped.
Hunter's face twisted. "You don't have to say it like that."
Elliot scoffed and spun around, attempting to look for something to cover himself up. "You are a pervert, huh?"
"Get dressed," Hunter grunted, standing. "We have a busy day."
Annoyance settled like a second skin on Elliot's body, a better covering than any piece of clothing could provide. He turned, saluting the blond with a dramatic flourish. "Aye, aye, husband!"
"Don't call me that." Hunter scowled.
"Why not?" It was curiosity that spilled the question from his lips, but he delivered it with a fine amount of distaste.
"We aren't married yet," Hunter seemed to growl as he stalked towards the door. Elliot narrowed his eyes at his back, muttering something even he couldn't decipher under his breath as he watched the blond leave the room. He stood there for several seconds before sighing, shoulders dropping. He turned and quickly showered and dressed, before going and shoving clothes into the nearest bag he found. He had little patience to go through everything at this second. There would be plenty of time to come back for other essentials, and besides, it wasn't like he was making Hunter's apartment his new home. It was temporary. Just for a year, then he would be back here as if he had never even left.
He was halfway through a quick, yet efficient morning routine when he suddenly realized Hunter Morgan was suddenly loose in his house. Throwing the clothes in his hands onto the bed, Elliot rushed from the room on quick feet, bounding down the stairs before skidding into the dining room where he found his family in the middle of what seemed like a joyful breakfast.
Elliot gaped.
The view of his siblings even sitting at the dining table, his step-mother smiling around her giggles, and Hunter like the missing piece in the middle of it all. A content look on his face and muggy eyes being brighter than he saw at all before.
"Elliot!" Luna turned her smile onto him as he entered hesitantly, as if walking into another dimension. His eyes narrowed as his family turned to him.
"What's going on?"
"Breakfast," Ethan supplied with a raised brow. Elliot had the age old urge to whack his brother behind the head.
"You haven't sat down for breakfast in this house in months."
Ethan grunted but didn't reply. He hadn't so much as spent more than a few hours in this house, let alone congregated with the family for any meals they could scrounge together. He was the exact stereotype of every teenage boy; quiet, broody, and a fierce need to rebel at every command or suggestion given to him. And Elliot was afraid he would find his brother to be worse in the wake of their mother's death. But this. This, he did not expect.
He carefully sat himself down beside his sister as she gave him a small nod of acknowledgement. Light eyes remained on her, watching her steady breath, hazy eyes. Though this was the most he had both seen of her this week, and seen her eyes lighten once again. Not like she was before...everything. But enough. A glimpse.
"Should we head out?" Elliot directed to Hunter, finding the longer he sat here the more uncomfortable he would grow. Hunter raised his head. "You said we had a busy day," he supplied when the blond didn't respond right away.
"You should at least eat something first," Luna answered instead, pointing to the spread of breakfast before them. Pancakes and butter and bacon and eggs. It was the same thing almost everyday, and still, it felt like a whole other household he had woken up to. "You can't get through a busy day without some fuel."
"I've gotten through worse days with far less," Elliot muttered. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat. He felt stormy eyes fall onto him, but he ignored the man across from him.
Luna sighed. "Yes, yes, we are well aware. But alcohol just makes things worse."
Elliot didn't respond, but his eyes lifted beneath his lashes, catching Hunter still looking over at him. The mask of blankness on his face, but there was something curious in his eyes, something Elliot didn't want to entertain at all.
His leg jiggled beneath the table. Emma gave him a side-eye.
Hunter cleared his throat. "I suppose we should head out." He made a look down to his watch, but it was too brief, and his eyes were too glazed to read it. "We've got a lot of things to do now to prepare for our engagement."
Elliot wrinkled his nose. Prepare for our engagement. It sounded too business-like.
He blinked.
Slammed with the realization that this was all business-like. Their engagement was not one of genuine love but of a contract. A business deal. Elliot couldn't believe, even for a second, that he forgot that it was anything but.
Hunter was standing, saying, "We need to stop by my apartment so I can change. And drop your stuff off too." He gave Elliot a pointed look. The brunet nodded absently.
Luna sat straighter in her seat. "Oh, well, Elliot has..." She turned dark eyes on him, looking him up and down. Her mouth set in a straight line. "Yes, you better swing by your place first."
Elliot rolled his eyes. To think she was going to offer Elliot to give over some of his own clothes. Anyone could see with just a glance at them that kind of thought could never happen. Elliot was practically half of Hunter's size; thin where he was muscular, short where he was tall. And their senses of fashion were wildly different. But as Elliot sweeped his own eyes over the blond, he couldn't help but imagine what he would look like in a bright and vintage outfit. He almost snorted at the thought. Hunter gave him a perplexed look.
"Yeah." He bounded to his seat, "I'll meet you at the car then." And he rushed from the room again. He didn't hear what conversation started as he left, and he would do well to pretend he didn't care. This was supposed to be a normal thing for couples, to interact with each other's families. But this wasn't a relationship. This was a business transaction. And something pestered at his chest at dragging his entire family, still heartbroken and mourning after their mother, into this charade of his and Hunter's.
He wouldn't let them grow some false attachment to the man, especially since above all else, Elliot still hated him. This marriage wouldn't change anything but his sister's fate. After all of this, they would go back to normal. And he'd never have to deal with Hunter again.
By the time Elliot had finished throwing together his bag and met Hunter back at his car, his hangover had been reduced to just a dull thud, nothing he couldn't push through at complete will.
Hunter barely waited until Elliot had his seatbelt clipped around his body before revving out of the driveway, face settled into his mask, completely stoic as his eyes were unwavering on the road in front of them. Elliot wrinkled his nose. They fell into silence but for the radio softly playing between them, some random pop song he hadn't heard in years. He drummed his fingers against his thigh to a random tune that was nowhere close to the one playing through the speakers, but no less obnoxious in attention.
Elliot could feel eyes slide to him periodically until Hunter finally grunted.
"What do you want?" He muttered. Elliot turned with raised brows, feigning innocence, humming in question. Hunter gave him a deadpan look. Elliot rolled his eyes.
"What makes you think you can just have, like, a normal breakfast with my family?" Elliot suddenly asked. He hadn't realized the words were bubbling inside of him until they finally escaped, but he could now feel the warmth in his chest expanding in some form of anger. He turned in a huff to fully look at Hunter now.
"Am I not allowed to have a meal with my fiancé's family?" Hunter asked in a monotone voice, not even bothering to look over at Elliot.
"No, you are not allowed to, especially when this is all fake and not real anyways. I don't want them to–" Elliot sighed, shoving his hands through his hair and dragging them down his face. "Nevermind. Just don't do it again."
Hunter still didn't look at him, and Elliot couldn't look back. But he had the sense the blond was tensing beside him, fingers gripping tighter to the steering wheel.
"Fine," he uttered into the quiet, reaching out and turning the radio up.
~
Elliot had never been to Hunter's apartment before – thank gods – but it was exactly as he suspected it would look: incredibly monotone, dark and extremely clean. He had a feeling if he dragged his fingers over any surface, he'd find not even a speck of dust coming away. His initial wonder was is this what psychopath's and serial killers' homes looked like? So bare of any hints as to this place being lived in. But he wasn't surprised, more intrigued than anything. Almost doubting how this was going to work, with both of them living together in a barren high-rise apartment.
"There's a spare room down that hallway." Hunter pointed to the right, the opposite direction he was walking. But Elliot wasn't paying attention. His eyes had stuck to the view from the floor to ceiling windows right before him. The entire morning view of the city of Chicago laying right in front of him. Buildings reaching towards the sky, the sun reflecting on glistening windows, the far off noise of traffic far below. Elliot would have pressed his entire face against the glass and just stared if he wasn't nervous to even leave a print on the pristine glass windows.
"It took some getting used to when I first moved in," Hunter murmured, suddenly standing beside Elliot at the window. He turned silvering eyes up to the blond. "I wasn't the most fond of heights."
Elliot couldn't help but snort. "So you get a high-rise apartment? Makes sense."
He just barely caught Hunter's lips lifting in a ghost of a smile. "Yeah, I know. But you have to admit it's a beautiful view."
"Yeah," Elliot mused, turning back to look out the window. "I could sit and just waste a whole day away here."
Hunter hummed, hands shoving into the pockets of his pants. Elliot felt eyes turn to him, then looked away. "Go ahead. This is your home for a year. Do whatever you want." He had walked away, heading to the hallway on the other side. "I'm going to change. Feel free to drop your stuff in the guest room."
He was gone before Elliot could even open his mouth in retort. Suddenly alone in the quiet of the living room, but a view he was already in love with in front of him. If he had to spend at least a year here, he was glad to have at least something to look forward to everyday.
Making his way down the right hallway, there were three doors closed and waiting for him. The guest room, a bathroom, and another locked room. He gave an extra jiggle to the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. He debated dropping to his knees, trying to peek a glimpse of the other side beneath the door itself. But he was also sure he'd find time to actually investigate the room. If he was going to marry Hunter, he should know his secrets too. At least, that's how marriage is supposed to work, fake or not.
With a sigh, he shuffled into the guest bedroom, supposedly his room for the next year. At least Hunter wasn't going to make them share a bed once they married. At least he could pretend they were no more than roommates that endlessly annoy each other.
The guest room was as barren as a bedroom could be. Only a bed, a nightstand and lamp, and a dresser filled the space. Windows stretched along the far wall, similar to the living room, and a door in the corner that he assumed led to a closet. It was spacious, for sure, but empty. The sunlight pouring through the windows gave the room a haunted air, if that was even possible. Like an abandoned space.
He threw his bag onto the bed, not bothering to even empty it if it's contents. Sure, he would stay in this space for however long he would need to keep up this facade. But that didn't mean he had to make this a home. He'd rather live out of his bag, go back and forth to his real home for any clothes and necessities he needed, and just use this as a place to lay his head.
He left the room, and intended to do some snooping around the living room and kitchen, maybe find some juicy intent on his soon to be husband. But he didn't expect to find a shirtless Hunter downing a glass of water in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his head tipped back. Elliot stopped in his tracks, unable to take his eyes off the expanse of muscle and pristine skin before him.
Excruciating seconds ticked by and Elliot was still staring at a completely unaware Hunter. He eventually cleared his throat, and Hunter choked on his water and turned.
Elliot raised a brow. "Is this how it's gonna be from now on?" He asked nonchalantly, trying to push the rising blush from his cheeks. He crossed his arms over his chest.
Hunter wiped his mouth, set his glass down in the sink. "Is there a problem?"
A challenge rose in his blue eyes as he fully turned, showing off his naked chest and toned abs for Elliot to ogle at. He cleared his throat again. Hunter mimicked his stance, crossing his arms over his chest, biceps bulging.
"No. No problem," Elliot ground out. He looked away, eyes finding a spot out the bright windows. "Just don't wanna be late."
Hunter cursed, checking the time on his watch before dashing out of the room. Elliot couldn't help but smirk to himself.
Maybe he could get used to it here.
~~~
hi friends! hope you've been enjoying this story so far! just wanted to give some quick reminders:
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