#tyrelliot drabble

[ivebeenmade]

Elliot Alderson’s 5 year plan

“It’s...bigger than I expected.” Tyrell remarks, weighing the binder of loose leaf notes in both arms. Elliot had been telling him for the last few days that they needed to ‘talk’. This isn’t exactly what he expected but there’s really little explanation needed.

FIVE YEAR PLAN is written boldly on the cover page; it’s laminated and everything. Wellick gives a low whistle. Elliot tries to reach for the hefty plans (no pun intended) his boyfriend is holding.

They’d spent a few months away in Sweden. Call it regrouping. As Tyrell leafs through the first few pages, dodging Elliot’s attempts to save him from what he’s now convinced might scare the man away, he sees that the vacation is a small part of Alderson’s big plans.

“It’s too much,” Elliot begins. Tyrell is shaking his head, settling down. This is going to take a while. By the looks of the binder, the color coded tabs, he could simply reference this as they go. He’s come to learn that the fully integrated Elliot Alderson was a little bit of the other personalities he’d met, and then some; and also not a thing like any of them at all most of the time. The motivation, the joy he got from accomplishing his goals or helping the ones he loved do the same, it was infectious. 

“No. No it’ll just take some time.” An eyebrow raised here, a comment there. “I think I’m beginning to get a feeling for your system at least.” The blond laughs. Clearly, the color coding is broken down into “stuff Elliot needs to do”, “stuff Elliot hopes Tyrell will do”, and “other” (ie how he plans to get Darlene to get her shit together, how Leon might fit into a corporate world...oh yeah, redefining Ecorp was part of the plans but fell under another category...well, multiple categories).

Elliot’s easy grin and tilt of his head go along with an almost distractingly intense stare. He seems to get this way whenever Tyrell speaks these days. The latter has already come to realize that some of the accent he tried to squash while blending into corporate America has probably come back pretty thick in the months they’ve spent healing. He’s noticed he has more of a tendency to pepper in words and phrases of his first language. Elliot loves it, and explains without prompting one day that it shows how much more relaxed he is, how he’s not this big ball of fakery and nerves (who he very much hated himself) anymore. It’s progress. 

Great progress, he’d remarked wistfully. There’s a section in the giant binder for the both of them quitting the worst of their habits. Elliot’s drug problem had started before the others took over, and the effects were still very much felt. He’d handled that with counselors and the right prescriptions to help his body handle the chemical addiction. 

Hours in, debating little details as the author of these big plans had expected, Tyrell accepts that the brilliant mind he’d very much fallen for in the beginning was the core of Elliot. Finding joy in the little things, planning for the future, it was beautiful. He couldn’t describe how fucking grateful he was that that was the man he had been warned he’d have to get to know when they reconnected at the hospital.

Towards the end, making 5 years into their future, there’s a lot of information before his intent is revealed. Elliot’s medical files, studies on the likelihood of...something...and the pros and cons of working towards this step at the age they’d be.

“A...a family?”

“Yeah. I thought, deep down, that’s what you wanted with Joanna. Why you stayed.” They’d been over that again and again, not that it was difficult for Tyrell to admit that his first marriage was ‘toxic’ to put it mildly. He’d loved and wanted his son before he’d seen him with his own eyes. Only once. “Oh, babe, don’t-”

“I’m fine.” Tyrell says, rubbing his eyes, then sighing deeply. Honesty, that was at the top of the list for them. “Ok. I’m not. I’ll always regret that, but yes I can and definitely do want to have a family with you.”

“Good. We’re not getting any younger. And my body isn’t in the best shape but as you can see my doctors are optimistic. It may take a little work- hah, I can see you and I are thinking the same thing there.”

“Yes, absolutely. Now, before that actually happens what’s this about the company? It’s in ruins.”

“That’s not Ecorp, obviously, Tyrell.” Elliot is confident to the point of cocky when he easily flips back to the professional entries among his 5 year plan. There’s a colorful logo, the name changed by just one letter.”

“I almost forgot, your dream.”

“Our. Our dream. There has to be a reason why it was yours when I was there. Do the math, it’s easy. We’re supposed to do this together.”

“Then we will.” A knowing smile passes between them. When the other says anything is going to happen, it happens. “Now, we could start practicing for the last entry, since it will take some work.”

“Don’t worry, that’s covered.” The tone of Alderson’s voice teases, as if there’s more to this than even the gigantic binder of plans had revealed to him. And of course there was. They’d have practice.

The matter is delicate, and it would have been perfect for Leon to burst in with Irving (and anyone else he’d needed on the job) at that very moment. To close that unpleasantness for good, Elliot already had a name chosen for Tyrell’s stolen child. As reported to him recently, those people really had no business raising their daughter, let alone their grandson, and were dirtier than Tyrell Wellick had ever even wished he was. Elliot didn’t have to wish his boyfriend would appreciate this, or be on board with the name, he knew he would. He knew whatever became of the child’s grandparents wouldn’t matter to him. 

Soon they’d be one step closer to completing their goals. Elliot had never felt so good. He wonders if the other man had realized that the plans included some extra time ‘on vacation’ and just why they’d need it. They were going to start their family right, and do right by their kids. Their relationship and family were priority one. 

In a couple of days, if that old temper flared up at all (really a misdirection for Tyrell’s self-doubt; a facet of himself he had a hard time accepting before he began to improve on it) Elliot had a million ways to shut down his bullshit. Sometimes, that was exactly how he had to keep his other half moving; remind him his complaints were full of shit and came from a place where he’d sooner have pain than success. It was a little thing that should be obvious but you have to love a person to know the difference. 

In fairness, Wellick was damn good at covering that up, almost as good as Elliot but Elliot had the advantage of learning his own pitfalls through five different fractured voices that were for the most part trying to help. And they had, until he was really ready to be whole. 

So they’d work on eachother, and their friends and family, and then the world. Elliot had a fairly good idea how his partner would react to their family starting sooner than he’d laid out in the massive binder. 

“What am I missing, Elliot?” Knowing Tyrell knew him well enough to see these highly detailed plans for the next several years of their lives, and assume there could still be more, weirdly warmed his heart. Actually, fuck that. What was wrong with knowing each other? That was a good sign. Something to cheer about in his next therapy session. 

Sure, he’d had a moment of doubt himself. This was a huge ask for a pretty new relationship. Good thing he’d started out small. The remaining plans weren’t totally organized anyhow, and might need subtle edits after a few years. There was definitely an even larger binder (hopefully) ready to take on the 10 year version. “I got it covered.”

for @clairebearhq @nywythwndblws

[404-not-found-xix]

Alt. Verse: Headcanon

I’ve been thinking about the alternative universe Tyrell Wellick and our verse Elliot Alderson. Here is a sweet fluff drabble about Tyrelliot:

I like to think that Tyrell Wellick regularly sees a therapist and is medically diagnosed with bipolar disorder. He has a script for zoloft and takes it every morning. He knows he has manic bipolar disorder and that’s okay, there’s nothing wrong it. It’s something he works with.

And Elliot and him have moved into a two bedroom apartment together that little over 1,000 square ft in New York.

They’re two soft quiet men who enjoy cuddling in bed and are working on their mental health together. They’re mutually supportive about each other going to therapy and see their separate mental health professionals on Tuesdays after work.

They leave work, go to therapy, and then take the subway home. They’re both mentally exhausted after it and so they make an easy comforting meal to soothe themselves. They snuggle, Elliot wraps his arms around Tyrell’s waste as he cooks some chicken in a pan. Tyrell blushes, tells him how much he cares for him and how important he is.

Elliot says, “You’re a blessing to me, I’m so lucky to have such an incredible person like you.” And they kiss.

Afterwards they snuggle in bed and pop on a movie. Tyrell might read a book while Elliot is all snuggled up under the covers. Probably wiggle over to rest his head on Tyrell’s shoulder. They’d talk quietly about their day and their therapy appointments. About their life. 

Eventually they’d get sleepy and click off the TV. Elliot would make some tea before bedtime and give Tyrell a cup. They’d drink herbal.

Elliot would crack a joke in bed and they’d both laugh. Elliot would make a funny face and mess with him. Even tickle. It would end in smooches and smiles, quietly settling down before they both snooze off.

Note:

- Their second bedroom is converted over into an office/reading room. Elliot prefers to have his work space in their bedroom for privacy. Tyrell works in the dual-use room and is a book worm. Wellick enjoys running and yoga. While he’s working out in the morning, Elliot takes Flipper for a walk around town. By the time they’re back, Tyrell is finishing up in the shower. He feeds Flipper for him and starts on their morning breakfast. He’s a pretty good cook.

[ivebeenmade]

Tyrelliot- Happy New Year

(I have no idea what the timeline is but here’s a quick Tyrelliot drabble post Finale)

The wound hadn’t been anything like the one he himself had given Elliot. Still, he’d wanted to be alone and miserable and die in the dark to spite the other man when he saw the headlights at the edge of the trees. Ok. He’d wanted to want to.

From there, answering in the negative to every nervous question the husband of the odd woman from the convenience store asked him, Tyrell had searched desperately for his phone. When he couldn’t find it he still knew the only number he’d need to know. 

In no time, Irving was driving towards them, straight towards them after taking Tyrell’s desperate call. “I’ll take him right to the hospital,” he’d comfortably lied to the concerned good samaritan. And then winked. You know, like an asshole.

Tyrell didn’t care. He was waking comfortably with an ex dark army doctor a few days later. Irving was ready with a pep talk. More importantly, he had a secure connection and a laptop that he set at Tyrell’s side when he left him alone. 

There wasn’t time to check his appearance or even give a shit. It all made sense now, or at least enough so that he was ready to run to Elliot’s request.

The Elliot that he’d known; the one that wasn’t quite all of the man he loved. Not that that mattered. This time he’d actually explained. The message was longer than any conversation they’d ever had and he realized that every part of the man cared about him. And needed him.

*

He hears Darlene’s voice as he runs the best he can down the hall. The stitches are tugging and a slight annoyance. Still no time to wonder if Elliot will notice or care about his slightly scruffy appearance; it’s only been a few days but the best he’s been able to do are a sweat suit and his back-up pair of glasses (which somehow were in one of the pockets of his suit even though nothing else useful had been), and the total lack of a clean shave.

At first Elliot’s sister seems protective, suspicious, and Tyrell thinks that’s somewhat fair. A bit annoying but fair. Then Elliot’s teary eyes widen, his face softens, and he reaches out for him.

“You’re here.” He says, still weak and obviously exhausted but there’s so much more in those words. Like he didn’t expect it, like it means the world to him.

“Of course.” 

It takes the rest of the night, and while the rest of the world is partying and ringing in the new world, Elliot is explaining to him how they’d fallen in love in his perfect world. Elliot does most of the talking, Tyrell filling in very little when the other bothers to ask for a small detail to fill in some blanks.

For the most part, Elliot wants to tell him about “their plans”. Even that sounds more like *his* plans, but it’s wonderful to hear. Tyrell laughs to himself, feels a blush creeping into his cheeks when Elliot says, “to you, this must feel sudden but I would really love it if we could keep going right where we left off.”

Tyrell just nods, knowing finally what that means and realizing that, yes, he wanted to know and understand this man he was pretty sure he was already crazy about. In a perfect world in Elliot’s mind they’d had an affair, and Elliot had decided that he was going to give everything up to be with the Tyrell that he knew. In the real world, right now in his hospital bed, just seconds to midnight, he was pulling Tyrell Wellick (the fixer-upper version) down for the first kiss of a new year and their new life.

@nameiswhit @clairebearhq @nywythwndblws

[ivebeenmade]

Tyrelliot Quarantine: Baby Boom

Tyrell’s unpleasant father in law had been wrong. There was nothing Elliot loved more (even this integrated, sweet, focused Alderson) than proving someone wrong. Especially when he deserved it. From what he’d been told, when they were talking details about having their own children, the guy was as much of a horror show as his daughter. He either had no clue or was just plain proud of what sort of person she’d been when she was alive. Didn’t matter. Those people had no business raising a child; especially not the sweet, beautiful little boy; so Elliot made sure he’d either find the filth that son of a bitch should already be buried in, or make it happen in the only way that counted these days. He’d hardly had to lift a finger, the proof of Joanna’s parents ineptitude in child rearing was morally troubling, and they were both so much worse than that. 

Tyrell had been able to bring home before the twins were born. If they hadn’t already been planning to build a family, watching him with his son cemented the deal. He’d need a sibling anyway, Elliot had reminded, already clueless as to why he was showing this early on. 

Twins. Oops. 

Rex and Milo. They were wonderful. Identical, each with a totally unique personality. The only downside? If you could call it that of course, was that they’d been made by a couple of very intelligent men. Which, in turn, became an upside when their lives, company, friends and loved ones, were hit with the pandemic of 2020. 

There was no time to ask what the fuck had happened, why it was hitting so hard so close to home. These things happened, all over the world, and they could follow the plans of those that made it through them. 

F-Corp was handled, more efficiently than ever, and surviving the pandemic.

After the couple secured a comfortable bubble at home, ensuring Darlene, Dom, and Leon were safely sharing the large house with plenty of guest room, they turned back the employees that were able to keep their work home as well.

An open channel to keep them updated and host live conferences whenever the need arised, had given Elliot an idea. And, maybe, just maybe, showing those that were still scared and overwhelmed, that this could be done and that those in charge were there for them, would give someone a little more hope.

“Ok, so, if you’ve been reading the news,” Elliot begins. In the distance, the webcam shot shows Tyrell coming up behind him with a steaming cup of tea. “Thanks. I’m going to miss the criminal amounts of caffeine I’m accustomed to.” He laughs, the blond behind him wrapping his arms around him, head rested gently on his shoulder. “Hold on Tyrell, I haven’t even said anything yet.”

The blond backs up, letting Elliot stand and do the same until  most of his upper body is in frame. Tyrell whispers something, again wrapping his arms around him, this time lower. Unlike before, at this stage it isn’t quite as obvious until he rolls up a few inches of his sweatshirt. “Like I was saying, if you’re reading the news, you’ve probably heard the debates. Can couples last through this? Divorces? Or a baby boom?” 

“We’re hoping for a girl.” Tyrell smiles, kissing Elliot on the cheek. 

“Hard to plan for that, but he’d better have given me a girl.” It sounds like a joke, but those that knew him at F-Corp would knew better. “On a side note, this will be the 1st of 4 we didn’t plan for.”

Tyrell laughs. It is completely true. He’d planned for Caspar, they’d planned for the twins. “Yes. This time we were bored and the kids were in their own beds.”

Not that they didn’t squeeze in alone time, even during quarantine.”Hey it’s important to have time alone together. Like I told the kids, it’s good for the family.”

“You actually did, didn’t you.”

“You think they ever decide to sleep in their own beds on their own?”

[ivebeenmade]

I wrote a S4 fix-it drabble, this is pt2

It both is, and isn’t, their first date. 

For Elliot, they’d *dated* quite a bit. They’d gone all over that when the former hacker had woken in the hospital. Their entire history wasn’t exactly perfect, except it was exactly what they had both always wanted. In that dreamworld, the company had been included. 

This real life, “afk” so to speak, first date, was also a celebration. Tyrell was nervous. He knew more about the Elliot he’d come to know in the past than he should’ve known, should’ve dared to know or investigate. Something about his persistence had given some of the alters a sense of trust with him and eventually the willingness (he thought- *hoped*) to allow their love to blossom inside the imaginary safe world ‘hoodie’ had created to keep the base personality safe from everyone elses’ big ideas.

After the big integration, which took plenty out of him and was bittersweet but *right* in all the ways, a determined (one of Tyrell’s favorite traits) Mr. Alderson reworked the broken pieces of E-Corp to their dream company. The dream world was becoming the real world.

The least the Swedish businessman with the intense crush could do was make their first real date perfect. Perfectly imperfect. 

He’d only recently been given the chance to apply to an entire human being (not just a bunch of confusing pieces he loved even when he hated) the real traits that made Elliot Alderson. All the best pieces were still there and so much more to figure out. 

Taking a wild guess- well, not really, not for another genius such as himself- the cuisine he’d provide was going to be a homerun. (Side note, there’s irony in that terminology and a lot of America’s favorite pastimes that Tyrell will have to learn, at least casually, because sports weren’t something that an Elliot Alderson alter enjoyed when he was high as a kite and trying to ignore reality in prison.) 

Burgers, loaded up with all the right fixings Tyrell knew were his favorites by watching and listening (maybe taking a peek into his workstation trash...maybe) and only purchased from a stand between trains on the commute to work. Needless to say, now that they were traveling together, this was slightly out of the way. Fortunately for him, something about *microwaving* greasy burgers or eating them at room temperature was ideal to his new boyfriend (yep, that had come up, along with the statement ‘like it or not’ which sounds like a patented Wellick move but it hadn’t been).

The french fries in their little folded paper napkins could be at any temperature but had a better bet of coming home warm considering Elliot’s favorite stand was literally right below his apartment building. Tyrell can’t help but think- now with more fondness than he might’ve in the past- that quite a lot of finesse must’ve gone into the process considering how well the package stayed together despite being totally saturated with more oil.

The best part of the evening is how ridiculously flattered the other is when he shows up at the apartment. They’re still in the process of moving all of his things. It’s a lot easier now with the paranoia and the reasons for it gone, but there’s still simply massive amounts of mysteriously labeled disks and spare computer bits to at least catalogue. They’ve agreed they must at least know what they’re throwing away before they do it, though most of it Elliot obviously *wants* to leave behind. 

He’d come in looking a little bogged down. Not in the usual sense, or at least not the way Tyrell remembers, so much as anyone after a long day. His passion for getting the company up and running, getting the two of them in order, so that he could move forward with both the professional and personal 5 & 10 years plans (yes there were versions for F-Corp and versions for domestic bliss and mostly Wellick was just along for the ride and strangely LOVING it). 

The only truly over the top part of the evening was an especially expensive bottle of champagne; which Elliot pours for each of them and when Tyrell doesn’t so much as take a drink he jumps the larger blonde and kisses him with a huge goofy grin. They both had a lot to work on. Elliot was fully ready to continue therapy (probably not with poor Krista) and had asked Tyrell to get with someone about his alcoholism and anger issues. 

After the smaller man is out of his lap, Tyrell plucks a card out of his suit jacket. A business card, with a handwritten series of appointments- one of which would’ve taken place earlier that very day. Elliot’s eyes go nearly crossed with adoration. 

“If it makes any difference, the decor is about as expensive.”

“The tablecloth and candles? Helluva feat babe, and I wouldn’t expect any less. But damn, that’s really impressive. And slightly insane. Wouldn’t have it any other way. You know I love you.”

“I’ve always loved you.”

Elliot had known, deep down, even when his memories were integrating of the ‘real world’ Tyrell, that this had to be there somewhere, and he already loved the man. And he knew that, even not complete just yet, the man falling in love with him out there, deserved the complete version of himself, was what he must have seen. They were both going to get everything they deserved, and moments like this kept not surprising him at all to prove that very thing. 

Pretty soon he planned to fix what little was left wrong with the world, especially his lover’s world. But they were all right. More than so. And only going up. 

(part 1 : https://ivebeenmade.tumblr.com/post/189980839835/tyrelliot-happy-new-year )

@clairebearhq‘s ask

[ivebeenmade]

As promised, repost of Tyrelliot college AUs (at least my favorite smutty bits)

(both parts are collabs with @nywythwndblws, if I find more or edit them I’ll put them up later, we decided the stories as a whole had to be taken down after last week)

Elliot is kicking out of his pants before he’s even closed the door to their dorm room- which Tyrell makes an attempt at doing before his boyfriend is on him. He tugs Tyrell’s belt free, and after that the blond isn’t sure what’s happened to him but he's half naked and flat on his back. 

“Do you have any idea what I did to myself in the bathroom on the way over here?” Elliot asks, and Tyrell finds himself momentarily speechless. That is, until he takes a mental walk from their room across the campus…

“The public bathroom?”

They’d pushed their beds together over the course of their first three dates, thankfully, because once they broke the proverbial seal there was no sign of slowing. Every free second was spent in their dorm, and if they weren’t fucking, they were creating. 

“Yeah, that’s how bad I wanted this.” There’s no further need to explain, as Elliot positions himself in his boyfriend’s lap, beginning a desperate rhythm. It doesn’t need to be said, but Tyrell can feel exactly what Elliot had been up to in that bathroom. 

“I was just thinking of that project we started…” Tyrell attempts to explain his solution to a problem that had all but halted progress on their latest joint venture. Elliot’s pupils widen, swirls of murky greens, gold, and a hint of blue in the right light.

“You’re so fucking brilliant, yes!” Elliot goes still, so excited about the solution that he hasn’t so much forgotten what he’s doing, as he’s got the patience to wait for release while they work out the details. “I love your fucking mind, have I ever told you that?”

“All the time. Could you keep moving though?” Elliot raises an eyebrow at that. Tyrell’s hips rolling insistently beneath him are doing enough of the work, his hands slowly going to a thin waist (ironically, it’s usually difficult to get Elliot to *stop* moving). 

Elliot grabs both of Tyrell’s wrists, pinning them back on the bed. They’re nose to nose as he goes on about their plans. He starts to find the rhythm again, tongue darting out to wet his lips. His boyfriend knows that move for what it is, that’s Elliot’s ‘thinking face’. That bite of his lip a second later could mean any number of things, but considering how he’s moving faster, finding the pace from before, talking long pauses between theorizing, he’s close. 

Elliot knows he’s teasing the hell out of his boyfriend, just not letting him touch, but he also knows by the pupils of those gorgeous blue vortexes getting wider that he’s about to come. It’s part intellectual, part physical, for each of them and damn it if neither knew the exact ratio.

When they’re finished, Elliot rolls over and demands that Tyrell take his shirt off- he hadn’t even noticed they were partially clothed- while he does the same. “I want your skin.”

“Alright, alright. I don’t have classes for the rest of the day.” Even if he did, there’s no way he’d pass up the adorable man curling around him, letting him trace the freckles on his shoulders while he dozes off (it’ll only be 5 minutes) still telling Tyrell how fucking brilliant he is.

*** (both drabbles are from different college AUs)

Elliot lays in his bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling. The perk of being a late bloomer, he thinks, is that he could totally go again and fuck it. Why wait? Now's as good a time as any. "I know you're not asleep..." He calls out with a smirk. "You gonna come over here and pop my cherry or what?" There's no way in hell Tyrell didn't catch his lack of experience from his line of questioning so he doesn't even try to lie. Besides, that wouldn't end well. 

And Elliot's decided. He wants Tyrell to do it. No substitutions.

It takes a moment for the other man to answer but when he does, there's not even a hint of his usual bravado. "Y-yeah?" Elliot decides it's definitely a turn on bringing that man to his knees...oh. Wow. That's an image, isn't it?

"Call her. Dump her. Then get over here and fuck me. Trust me, I'm not gonna get any more ready than I am right now."

Tyrell pulls hard on the curtain, the staples giving way, already dialing the number. He sees Elliot there on the bed, smoking a cigarette. They're not supposed to smoke in the dorms and he says as much. Elliot laughs and suddenly, he's nervous. Actually nervous. Hes never been nervous about sex, not even the first time. 

He's so nervous that he hasn't realized the phone stopped ringing and he hears Joanna's voice, exasperated, threatening to hang up. "Tyrell, go to bed, you're drunk, aren't you?"

"Joanna, It’s over. This relationship has been...an absolute nightmare and I’ve just gotten a much better offer. Have a good life." He ends the call and tosses his phone over his shoulder, never once taking his eyes off of Elliot.

Elliot edges the blanket down to his hips, just in case Tyrell needed a reminder that he’s naked under there. “I was thinking about these in there,” he confesses, taking Tyrell’s hand and sucking on a finger. In his other hand there’s a bottle of lube. The look he’s giving the flustered blond is ‘this is all on you’.

This gorgeous bastard is a virgin, and that’s a lot of pressure, but a challenge he’s willing to take. He knows he’ll be Elliot’s first, and something about that is pretty hot. He’s already hard again and Elliot is whispering more confessions; that he’d been imagining his lovely hands, his fingers up his ass. He’d known Tyrell would have no problem finding the angle. He paints a picture of the struggle he’d had experimenting in the bathtub, as Tyrell lifts Elliot’s leg over his shoulder. It raises his hips, makes the perfect position for Tyrell to ease a finger in. He winces at first, nails digging into Tyrell’s bicep. 

He pushes a second finger in, crooks them both up just right, and begins a steady pace. Just like before, the process takes a while, and he knows that it’s not going to be comfortable at first when Tyrell fucks him. But that’s all he can picture, his fantasy of the hands he’d found himself obsessing over realized, he eyes the bulge in the blond’s pants eagerly. 

“I hear it’s easier...from behind. At first.” Tyrell nods, asking if he’s sure he’s ready, but already turning him over. There’s a pause, Elliot bracing himself, forehead pressed to a cool pillow, while he hears a zipper and the muffled moan of the man preparing himself. There’s an almost comical struggle with his clothes, he hears Tyrell’s pants hit the floor and then his cold bare skin is pressed against him, cock hard and lubed pressed against his ass. He feels him carefully position himself, pressing in slow. It doesn’t seem like it’ll make it any easier, and fuck he wants this, but the adjustment is more than he expected. 

Still, he was right about this position. As the internet had said, this was going to be the most comfortable way, and most satisfying. It sure as hell doesn’t take Tyrell long to find his prostate, find a rhythm, and if Elliot was worried about being loud when he’d been masturbating in their shared bathroom, it was nothing to the volume of Tyrell’s moans. He’s still attentive, though it’s obvious he’s been dying for this too. 

It doesn’t take either of them long, and again Elliot’s research had been correct. He didn’t bother helping himself along by jacking off, didn’t have to. Another thing he reveals to Tyrell when they’re curled around each other a few moments later. 

“Way more fun that I had in the bathroom.” 

“Well...I could complete that fantasy too.” Elliot is pretty sure he’ll be ready to go again soon. Seriously, breaking the seal was no joke. 

“I don’t think we’ll fit lying down.”

“That wasn’t the plan.” Yep. Ready to go again.