❝art is driven by emotions, and emotions make the madness in your work beautiful.❞
TW: mention of drugs usage and mention of self-inflicted injuries.
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Not here.
Is the phrase Elijah continuously repeats in his head. It is the only thing keeping him from losing himself further into the moment with Andrew. Though his mind is telling him to stop their intimacy, stop this passionate kiss they both have been waiting for weeks to have, his body just couldn't listen to him. Or in this case, his inner conscience didn't want to stop it. Not this time. The phrase is louder, overpowering the logical one. He's no stranger to the thrills he experiences with Andrew.
When they were in their first two moments of dating, their sex drive was high, through the roof. Andrew wanted to sleep together after every dance practice, after every work shift, and even when they went to parties together. Of course, since Elijah had the stamina, he didn't mind it. He loves the thrill, he loves the thrill he gets when he and Andrew have risky moments like the one they are having now. On the wooden floor of a dance studio room. The same room Andrew had just been dancing in. The music is still on, loud, loud enough to keep their noises contained if they were to take it that far.
If Elijah allows it to go that far, He knows why Andrew pounced on him the moment he got inside the studio room. Even he wanted to pounce on him as well. Pin him against the mirror the moment he laid eyes on him. However, they have a lot to speak about, though he didn't want to talk about it here, he still believes the conversation needs to happen. They haven't seen each other until this point. The only thing he heard was his voice, and how sad his tone was over the phone. He missed dancing. He missed the university, but they blamed him for everything. They ruined the one thing he had to escape.
"Stop," Andrew complains into the kiss, while gripping the bottom of Elijah's shirt and pulling it over his head. "Fucking stop, Eli."
Elijah knows what he is telling him to stop for. He is telling him to focus on the moment, stop thinking. He couldn't though. No matter how exciting and thrilling this moment is, he has too many questions for him, questions that can ease his mind and worry less about him. Conversations that can make it easier for him to cope with this new lifestyle. One he had no choice to live now, because he knows Andrew. He's spending these days getting drunk and partying with the very people he shouldn't even be around.
Andrew pulls from the kiss abruptly, panting heavily. Their lips were swollen, their eyes dazed with lust and desire, and their heart racing quickly. His naturally wavy hair is curling from the sweat on his forehead from dancing for hours before he called him here. The mirrors her starting to fog up, from the moistness from the room. Elijah loves when he looks like this, but he really has to control himself at this moment.
Panting, Andrew stares into his eyes, leaning in to kiss him again, but he stops himself. Annoyance gleaming over his gaze, piercing them deeply into his own. He's upset.
"I told you to stop." Andrew leans back, pushing his hair back. "I hate when you do that, just focus on me. Not whatever the fuck you're thinking about."
"Andrew," Elijah says through his own heavy pants, sitting up from the hard wooden floor onto his elbows, which hurt a lot more now that the thrill is wearing off. "We have to talk... It's been nearly a month."
"Two and a half weeks is a month now?" Andrew pushes at Elijah's shoulders, causing him to fall back onto the floor before standing from his position that he had been straddling his lap.
Elijah sits up entirely this time, his head shielding himself from becoming frustrated with him. He had to choose everything he said cautiously. "Don't do this..."
"Do what?" Andrew's voice rises and his eyebrow furrows.
Elijah stands up from the floor, grabbing his shirt in the process. He pulls it over his head quickly, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "Don't shut me out. Close me off from what you're thinking about."
"I was thinking about fucking right here, and right now." He grins fakely before it drops instantly. "But you ruined it with your loud ass thinking."
Elijah runs his hand over his face, holding it over his mouth for a moment before speaking again. "You know that is not what I was getting at, you know that." He reaches out to hold his hand but Andrew pulls his hand further from his reach and glares deeply.
"I called you here, didn't I?" he snaps, walking over to the stand where his phone is plugged into the stereo. "I wanted to see you and now that you're here, you want to talk instead of fuck?"
"Don't treat me like the others." Elijah's frustration peels through his words. "I would never treat you like the people I sleep with and you shouldn't do that to me. As much as I miss touching you, and kissing you, that can wait. I'm not an animalistic beast with no sympathy and care for you."
Andrew turns around, his eyes slightly lowered, narrowed with anger. "What?"
He didn't mean to say it in that way using the tone he did, but Elijah needs him to know his limits as well, and saying things like that really does pisses him off sometimes. Those words only slip out in moments like this for Andrew, when the tension between is on a high and they are getting ready to argue again
"You know what, fuck you, Elijah." He glares at him, his eyes fill with hate, causing Elijah to realize his mistake quickly. "You are the last fucking person I want to hear this shit from."
"Andrew-"
"I knew you only showed up to play twenty-one questions with me, and find out what's wrong with me. I don't want or need your pity and since you want to know what I'm feeling, fine! I'll tell you what's wrong with me!" Andrew slams his phone down and raises his arms, both, high in his face. "This! This was the result of my own decisions. I got hooked on the happy pills and couldn't stop!"
Andrew's arms were full of scratches, ones that look self-inflicted. He's sure these were the marks of withdrawal when he was in the rehabilitation facility. Seeing them pains him, but he knew this was because he didn't choose the right words or tone.
"I did the drugs! I kept taking them over and over again! No one forced them down my throat! This is my fucking fault!" He yells in his face before looking down at his hands. "So don't give me that pity bullshit. I expect that from strangers and the people I fuck, but I not from you."
"That's not true." Elijah didn't believe that this was all his fault. "This being all on you is not true."
Everyone could tell Aiden never liked Andrew. Even though they party with the same friends group, people could tell Aiden just really didn't like him. Elijah only knew that back then because Aiden didn't like him either. When they crossed paths he would purposefully say things or bump him to provoke him, but Elijah is much more mature than he is. Aiden despises them and even after Andrew's overdose scare, he still used that time to spread rumors and throw hate in his direction.
Who's to say that Aiden didn't pressure Andrew to take those drugs, he is the one who distributes them. Most people know he sells them at his parties. This could definitely be that entire group fault as well.
"Don't you fucking start-"
"Yeah? Getting you hooked on them is a form of forcing them down your throat! They kept them around you, can't you see that? Can't you see that they are to blame?" Elijah snaps slightly, fed up with him blaming himself when the real culprits are the ones who bought and gave him the drugs to begin with. "How can they call you their friend when they kept you around that shit, pressure you to take them."
Andrew shakes his head. "You weren't there."
"Andrew, I know what kind of fucking people-"
"No!" He snaps. "You weren't fucking there, Elijah! You don't know what the hell... no, I'm not doing this."
Andrew slaps his hand away and walks to the other side of the room, gathering his duffle bag and hoodie. As he forces the hoodie over his head, Elijah walks after him, gripping his wrist, stopping him from leaving.
"Let me go!" Andrew snatches from him again, making the man frown a bit.
Elijah grips both of his shoulders and pins him against the mirror, a lot harder than he intended, but he didn't want him to leave. That was the last thing he wanted from this. Elijah presses his forehead against his, closing his eyes in frustration. He needs to calm down, hoping Andrew would use this moment to calm down as well.
Elijah wanted to talk. He did but he didn't want to talk about all of this at the moment. Not in his only place to escape reality. He didn't want to talk about this inside a dance studio, his place of comfort, but Andrew left him no choice. He planned on leaving the studio with him, bringing him back to his place, ordering food, helping him whine down before finding it comfortable to talk about his plans if the college rejects him. However, that didn't happen. He hates hearing him blame himself for this, when it's not his fault.
"Andrew, please," He says, sliding his hand down the mirror, cupping the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I brought all this up right at this moment, but please..."
Elijah stands up straight cupping his face with both hands, staring into his eyes. "Please stop pushing me away. I want to know what you're thinking. I want you to talk to me about everything like you used to. I hate when we fight, you know that."
Silence falls over then for a few moments, their hearts slow down to their normal pace. Their breathing returns steady, and after a few seconds more they were both calm. They weren't completely calm, it didn't magically wash away, but they were calm enough to know that all the shouting and fighting is exhausting. Andrew sighs, taking Elijah's wrist in his hand, running his thumb over his carpal bone before pushing gently at the male's shoulder. Signaling that he understands.
Elijah smiles cautiously. Of course he didn't move yet, he didn't want to. The blonde male leans forward a bit, kissing him softly. At least that was his intention. Kissing Andrew always turns a lot more passionate in moments like this. After their small spat. As they share yet another kiss, it isn't steamy and lustful as the one before. This one is a lot more tamed, calm, and slow. The passion slowly consumes for a few moments before Andrew actually pushes him away.
"God," Elijah sighs happily, leaning closely to his ear. "I missed you."
Andrew pushes him away again, turning his head before letting out a defeated sigh. "Yeah, you said that forty million times already." He picks up his duffle bag again and begins to walk to the door.
"Did you not miss me or something?" Elijah follows behind him, pulling the hair tie out of his messy hair, so he could fix it to the ponytail he had in before.
Andrew ignores him and puts his hood to his oversized hoodie on before walking through the lobby of the studio quietly. Once they are outside and making their way to his car, Elijah took this moment to watch Andrew from afar. He knows he needs a lot more time before completely opening up to him, but he's just glad their conversation didn't end over a phone call. Especially when those phone calls were about nothing.
"So, how's everything with your parents?" Elijah asks him as he walks around to the driver's seat, unlocking the door before getting inside.
As Andrew puts his duffle bag in the back seat, and sits in the front seat, leaning the seat all the way back. His silence is enough of an answer for him. He kind of figures that he has been ignoring his parents calls. Andrew's parents aren't horrible, they love him, and they loved Elijah a lot more than he expected them to. However, when the news got out that Andrew was rushed to the hospital of course Elijah called his parents. Even though that decision was the right one to do at the time, calling them resulted in Andrew hating him the moment he regained consciousness, and Andrew's parents hating him for not looking after him like he promised them he would.
"Well," Elijah says, starting the car up while pulling his seatbelt on. "Arthur called about my mom. Telling me to show up to whatever this gathering. I don't want to go, but I won't hear the end of Arthur if I don't show up."
"Then don't go." Andrew finally speaks, rocking his leg side to side. "Your mom's a bitch, no offense, and your brother is a passive aggressive asshole. I really don't see the reason for you going somewhere you don't want to go."
Elijah pulls into traffic and out of the parking spot off of the curb, and pulls up to the red light. "Apparently she has an announcement, and Arthur seemed serious about it when he called."
"If you plan on going why fucking tell me about it." He grumpily says, crossing his arms after pulling his hood further over his face.
Grinning to himself, Elijah places a hand on his knee as he drives. He just wants to stop him from shaking his leg. He knows it's an anxiety thing, or even anger, but Andrew never realizes he does it sometimes, so he would subtly stop him from doing it.
"I might as well go," he tells him. "If it is serious announcement, I could fuck up the mood by saying something stupid or just simply exist, let my mother tell it."
Andrew stifles a laugh. "Idiot."
Elijah stops at another red light, pulling his hand away from Andrew's leg and back to the steering wheel, switching hands so he could lean on his other hand. As the silence falls over them again, he turns the radio on, planning jazz, something he prefers over all and every music. On the ride back to his place, he couldn't help but think about the scars on Andrew's arms. He didn't want to bring that up at this moment.
"Are you planning on covering them? With a tattoo?" He asks Andrew. "You know I'd do it."
Andrew pulls his hood off and pulls his sleeve down. "What do you think I could put over them?"
Elijah glances over at him and shrugs. "I think you should come up with something meaningful to you, and let me know."
Andrew nods and digs into his jeans pocket and pulls out a box of cigarettes. He rolls the window down and lights one of the cigarettes he got from out of the box. Of course, he's smoking at a time like this.
"Give me one?" He asks, leaning over, eyes still on the city street. Once he stops at another traffic, Andrew puts a cigarette between his lips and lights it for him just before the light changes.
The two of them sat comfortably in silence, the drive back to his place was going to take a while, he didn't live too far but with the city's traffic, he's sure it took about an hour to get to his penthouse. Perks of making lots of money from art and his brother being awfully generous. As he parks in front of his building, Andrew gets out first, not giving him time to turn the engine off. He gathers his things and walks through the door and towards the elevator at the end of the lobby hall.
Elijah follows him, after locking his car door. As he walks inside, he greets the man at the front desk lobby and continues down the hall where Andrew is patiently waiting for him. He walks up beside him and puts his key into the elevator, causing it to open. The both of them step inside and wait for the doors to close before they are standing in silence.
"I need to shower." Andrew suddenly announces.
Not looking at him, Elijah chuckles and pushes his hands into his pockets. "Are you asking me to join you?"
When the doors to the elevator opens to his penthouse, Andrew steps off of the elevator, removing his shoes and dropping his duffle bag to the side. "I'm not asking."
Andrew walks away from him, hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie as he makes his way down the hall where the bathroom is located.
"I'll be there in a second!" Elijah tells him as he opens the bathroom door before going inside.
Elijah walks in the opposite direction, going straight to his kitchen. The penthouse wasn't huge, just the normal size. He had a loft office space for his painting, the living and kitchen was an open concept, and down the hall were doors to the bathroom and two bedrooms. He is in the kitchen to clean the few things he had in the sink. He could hear the shower running as he finished the last cup in the sink. As he makes his way down the hall, he gets a phone call.
He stops just outside the bathroom door, pulling his phone out of his pocket, looking at the caller ID. Elijah hadn't expected her to call so soon, but that didn't stop him from answering the call right away.
"Hey," He says in his playful tone. "I didn't think you would call this soon."
"Are you free saturday? We can go to the board together." Aurelia mumbles on the phone, nerves hidden in her words as if she never talked to someone on the phone before. "I have a lot to do next week, so I don't know if I'll be able to find a day to go with you."
He couldn't help but smile. How can she make his heart race like this without even seeing her. "I'm busy this weekend, but don't worry about it. I'll talk to some people that I know to see if they could help me help you. Okay?"
"I... I know I sort of asked for help, but I don't want to burden you with my problems." She says quietly into the phone, making him lean against the door frame to the bathroom, watching Andrew shower alone.
"It's really no burden, I'll try to help you out of the shit situation you're in right now." He could hear a sigh of relief from the other end making him smile wider. "I have to go now. I'll call you later, baby."
He couldn't resist not teasing her before he ended the call. Elijah could almost picture her reaction to him calling her that. Smiling to himself, he removes his clothes and steps into the shower with Andrew. As the two practically pounce on each other in the shower, Elijah couldn't shake the deepest feeling of excitement adding to their mix of intimacy.
Was it because of her?
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