thechemistryofelu

[thechemistryofelu]

Surprise My Body (NSFW)

The best way Lucas could describe his past week was that it had been a ridiculous, irritating, nonsensical circus.                                                                                                              He had missed the bus on Monday and Tuesday, causing him to be late to his first class for both days. On Wednesday, he had printed an intricate, complicated 4-page essay for his French class in the school library. It was one of the hardest papers he had written in a while, and while he would never admit it, he was (almost) proud of it.                                                       However, during his walk between the library and French classroom, his essay had somehow floated out of his hands, and landed right into a mysterious puddle that happened to be lying in the middle of the floor.                                                                                                                   Normally, Lucas would have found it more absurd than enraging, if it wasn’t for the fact his French teacher did not accept late work, for any reason. He didn’t care if you got to class 2 minutes late because of your bus driver being behind schedule, or if you couldn’t make it because of your grandpa’s funeral; late work was, well, late work. So, all Lucas could do was begrudgingly accept that his French grade was going to tank even lower.                                     

On Thursday, at lunch, Basile announced that he had gotten into a frivolous argument with Daphné. Apparently, he had made a “slightly offensive” joke; Lucas couldn’t remember for the life of him what the joke was, but he did remember that while it was harsh, it wasn’t offensive enough for him to fret over. Unfortunately, Daphné didn’t see the joke that way, because she proceeded to give Basile the silent treatment which, according to him, seemed to “have no end in sight”.                                                                                                               Lucas wanted nothing to do with Basile’s drama; he and Eliott have had their fair share of frivolous arguments, but nothing this juvenile. However, Basile kept trying to convince Lucas to get involved and try to reason with her.                                                                           “Daphné is willing to listen to a gay guy! She adores you, dude!” Basile insisted. “Plus, you have experience with. . .this sort of thing.”                                                                                                    “I have experience dating a sensitive, emotional, bipolar man who can’t help the way he is. Not a teenage girl who can’t take a joke.” This was one of the rare occasions Lucas was glad Eliott wasn’t with him. Had he been present, Lucas wouldn’t have been comfortable to state his claim as bluntly. “So, no, I don’t have experience with this.”                                                              “Well, you have experience with talking to girls. You’re better at talking to them than any of us!” Basile gestured towards Yann and Arthur. Both nodded in agreement.                     “That doesn’t mean this is my job. You’re her boyfriend. Wait for her to calm down enough that she’s willing to talk to you.”                                                                                                            “Oh.” Basile nodded. “I never thought about that.”                                                                              That borderline moronic conversation was enough to add to Lucas’ circus. However, the fact that Basile went further by complaining about going without sex for several days in their group chat made Lucas want to hit his head against the wall. While his sex life with Eliott was wonderful, on the occasions Eliott would sleep for days, Lucas would go without, and he never complained about it.                                                                                                                         On Friday, as if none of the above was enough clownery, when walking between classes, Lucas slipped and fell on the stairs between the first and second floor. To his own astonishment, he managed to land on his hip. His hip was in enough pain that he was sure he bruised it, but there was nothing he could do as he struggled to walk to his next class. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing what the bruise looked like when he got home.                        

Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to get home anytime soon. Not only did he have 2 more classes, but already committed to studying with Daphné, Alexia, Imane, and Emma after school.                                                                                                                                                          By the time Lucas finished studying with the girls (which he spent most of trying not to focus on his hip), he was cringing with pain. All he cared about was getting home and being in Eliott’s big, loving arms.                                                                                                                           Once his bus made it to his stop, he hopped off in excitement. He whined when his feet hit the ground, pain shooting to his hip. He sighed as he walked quickly, yet carefully, to his and Eliott’s apartment.                                                          

When Lucas entered his home and closed the door behind him, he released a sigh of relief. He took off his shoes and placed his backpack on the ground before making his way to the living room.                                                                                                                                                Upon Lucas’ entrance, Eliott’s face lit up. He stood from the couch and held his arms out. Lucas walked into them without a word, letting Eliott envelope him.      “Lucas! I missed you.” Eliott gave his boyfriend a gentle squeeze. When he received no response, he pulled away gently. While Lucas was happy to see his boyfriend, he was in such a bad mood, he found it difficult to express it.                                                                           Eliott cupped his face into his hand. “Lucas? Are you okay?”                                                                  Lucas shook his head. “This week has been one circus act after another.”                                       “Circus act?” Eliott planted a kiss on Lucas’ forehead. “Do you know someone who can juggle?”                                                                                                   “I. . .don’t know. That’s not the point. Just. . .this week has really sucked.”                                                 Eliott frowned. He realized Lucas wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Baby, I’m sorry. My boss made me work overtime, we got extra shipments this week.”                                                        “No, that’s not it. Your work schedule is the least of my problems right now.”                                               

Lucas sat on the couch, pulling Eliott down to sit with him. Eliott complied, then patted his lap. Lucas scooted on to his lap, leaning his head on to his boyfriend’s shoulder. Eliott snaked his arms around Lucas’ waist, holding him close while planting kisses on the top of his head. They sat for a minute of comfortable silence.                                                                                

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eliott asked between kisses.                                            “Well, I was late twice in a row, my stupidly hard French paper fell into a puddle before I could turn it in, Basile made Daphné mad and wants me to deal with his drama, and then I bruised my hip on the stairs between classes. Any more questions?”                                         Eliott pulled away enough to look at Lucas directly. “Of course I have more questions! You bruised your hip?”                                                                                                                                     “Um, yeah. I think so, it really hurts.”                                                                                              “Show me.”                                                                                                                                    “Eliott, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s not that—"                                                      Eliott’s soft, loving glare turned into ice. “Show. Me.”                                                                       Lucas knew that hadn’t been a question; it was a demand. He gulped as he stood up, gently pulling the right side of his shirt up. A tinge of blue mixed with purple was visible on the exact area he had landed; he presumed the edge of the bruise was hidden under his pants. Eliott inspected the sight with one hand over his mouth. He reached his other hand out, stroking the bruise gently. Lucas hissed, even Eliott’s gentle touch causing a dull ache.              Eliott muttered an apology before asking, “Does it hurt?”                                                                           “It aches a little. Hurts more when you touch it.”                                                                     “Lucas. . .” Eliott stood up, holding his boyfriend’s head in his hands. “Go lay down. Let me take care of you. I’m not letting my baby walk around in pain.”                                       Lucas frowned. “But I’m not a baby.”                                                                                               Eliott kissed Lucas softly. “But you’re my baby.”                                                                                       “Even if I’m your baby and bruised my hip, I can still cook dinner. I know you didn’t forget our rule.”                                                                                                                                                       “I didn’t, but we’re going to have to make an exception.”                                                            “Eliott, even if I’m like this, I don’t think I –”                                                                                   “If you don’t lie down and let me cook, no sex for a week.”                                                           Lucas gasped. While Eliott’s tone was threatening, he smiled while speaking. Lucas wasn’t sure how, but that made Eliott’s threat sound worse, stronger than his normally empty threats.                                                                                                                          “Okay, okay, I’ll lay down. But if you poison me, no sex for a month.”                                                     “You couldn’t resist me for that long.” Eliott chuckled before kissing Lucas’ cheek. Lucas blushed, unable to form a response, because he knew Eliott was right.                                             

Eliott patted Lucas’ shoulder as he ended the conversation with, “Now, get your cute, blushing face to bed so I can start spoiling you.”                                                                             As Eliott headed to the kitchen, Lucas made his way to their bedroom. He stripped to his underwear and changed into a sweatshirt before lying in their bed. He winced as he laid down, attempting to get into a comfortable position without too much pain.                                           

As he tried to find a good position, Eliott walked into the room, an ice pack in hand. Lucas reached out to take it, but instead of handing it over, Eliott gently placed the ice pack on his boyfriend’s hip.                                                                                                                                       Lucas smiled. “You really are set on spoiling me.”                                                             “Just you wait, my love. The night is young.” Eliott winked.                                     “What do you mean, the night is young? I love your cock in my ass, but I can’t handle getting fucked tonight.” Lucas felt himself blushing again at having said something so dirty so casually.                                                                                                                                                 Eliott giggled. “I’m not going to fuck you when you’re so sore, don’t worry. But I know other ways I can make you feel good, you’ll see.”                                                                                              Eliott sealed his promise with a kiss on Lucas’ forehead. As he returned to the kitchen, Lucas’ heart swelled with love. Even after having moved in together, he could barely believe that such a beautiful, thoughtful, adorable man loved him this much. In Lucas’ mind, Eliott could have anyone, yet he chose him.                                                                                                                     As Lucas waited for Eliott to finish their (hopefully edible) dinner, he checked his phone. He frowned when he was met with Basile had sent numerous messages to the group chat. He had whined about how he had text Daphné earlier that day asking if she was willing to talk, only for her to leave him on read (again). Minutes after doing so, she then posted something about hanging out with her friends on her Instagram story.                                                                  Lucas, having no energy to deal with Basile’s predicament, responded with a clown emoji. Hoping that Arthur or Yann could contribute something constructive in the meantime, he decided to put his phone down for the night in order to save the final bits of his sanity. 

Lucas stared at the ceiling, trying to let himself relax. The ice pack eased the pain on his hip to an extent, but it didn’t ease his mind or the rest of his body. His mind continued to cycle through everything that happened to him in the past week, leaving his gut clenching and heart racing. Unable to calm down, he felt stuck, going around a carousel that refused to let him hop off, speeding up with every round.                                                                                                 

If he kept being late, he’d risk getting detentions, and too many detentions meant expulsion. Even if he didn’t get expelled, if he couldn’t get his French grade up, he’d have to repeat his entire final year of high school. If Daphné and Basile didn’t make up, they’d break up, and then Lucas would be torn between his male and female friend groups. If his hip didn’t heal right, or if he had injured it worse than he thought, he’d have to see doctors to get it fixed, possibly have surgery, and spend weeks, if not months, healing.                                                             And now his boyfriend was attempting to cook something that wouldn’t poison him.                      It was too much. The clenching in his gut erupted, and that’s when Lucas started to cry.                

He didn’t wipe his tears as they made his way down his cheeks, landing on the sheets. He sniffled as his vision blurred. His tears distracted him enough to make him lose track of time; therefore, he had no idea how long he had been crying before he heard Eliott’s footsteps come towards the room, and within seconds, enter it.                                                                                Lucas peered up upon Eliott’s entrance. He peeked through the doorway with an impish grin.                                                                                                                                                             “Lucas! Din—”                                                                                                                          Eliott’s face fell the second he noticed the tears all over his boyfriend’s face. He rushed to the bed and cupped Lucas’ face.                                                                                                                   “My gorgeous boy, why are you crying?”                                                                                            Lucas sniffled again as his boyfriend gently wiped his tears away. “Because of everything.” 

“Baby. . .” Eliott removed his hands from Lucas’ face, but only to climb on his side of their bed. Lucas turned to face him, allowing Eliott to slip one arm under his neck and the other around his torso. He pulled Lucas into a tight embrace, letting Lucas bury his face into his chest, tears staining his shirt.                                                                                Lucas’ body finally began to relax, soaking in his boyfriend’s touch. When he lifted his face from Eliott’s chest, Eliott used a finger to gently tip Lucas’ head upwards. He kissed the remaining tears on Lucas’ face away before kissing the tip of his noise.                                                   “I know you’ve had a rough week.” Eliott held Lucas’ face the way he always did when comforting him, his thumb rubbing circles on his cheek. “But that’s what it is: a week. It’s over now. Next week will be new, and better.”                                                                        “But what if it doesn’t get better?” Lucas asked. “What if next week ends up being worse than this week was?”                                                                                                                                       Eliott leaned his forehead against Lucas’. “Remember what you said, when we talked about me being bipolar?”                                                                                                                       Lucas thought back to that day. He made a small grin before him and Eliott spoke in unison: “Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.”                                                                                      Lucas’ smile widened as he leaned in for a kiss. His kiss was gentle, tender, filled with affection for the man cradling him so intimately.                                                                                 Eliott broke the kiss too soon for Lucas’ liking, but only so he could continue speaking. “When I don’t take my medication and slip into mania or depression. . .you see how I am. It’s too much. I feel like it’ll never end. But no matter what I think or feel. . .nothing is permanent. Being late, your French grade, Bastille’s drama, your hip? They won’t last forever.”                                                                                                                                                  Lucas leaned in for a quick kiss before speaking. “My dad not talking to me might be permanent. . .”                                                                                                                                          Eliott frowned. “I don’t think so. I still think he’ll come around someday. But we don’t need to talk about your dad. He’s missing out on the cutest boy I’ve ever seen.”                                      Lucas blushed. “Eliott, please. You only say that because I’m your boyfriend.”                                     “You’re my boyfriend because you’re cute, among many other things.” To Lucas’ dismay, Eliott removed his hands from him and sat up. “But we can talk about that later. Dinner’s getting cold.”                                                                                                                                                      “I don’t care if dinner is warm or cold, as long as I don’t get food poisoning.” Lucas sat up as well.                                                                                                                                                           Eliott made a dramatic sigh. “You’ll never trust my cooking, even if I make something good.” Before Lucas could argue that Eliott was more likely to get struck by lightning then cook something beyond mediocre, Eliott walked to his side of the bed, turned so his back was facing Lucas, and kneeled down.                                                                                            “Now, does my baby want a ride?”                                                                                                      Lucas grinned as he clamored his legs over Eliott’s shoulders. Eliott waited until Lucas was properly seated on his back before slowly standing up.                                                                         “You really are set on spoiling me tonight.”                                                                                Lucas wasn’t able to see Eliott’s face, but he could tell from the tone of the voice that he spoke with an impish grin. “I’ve hardly started, mon amour.”                                                          Lucas wondered what else Eliott had planned for the night; it was as if he had prepared a plan to spoil him a long time ago, should a day come where Lucas needed spoiling. Whatever Eliott’s plan was, Lucas knew he would love it.                                                                                                             Well, minus Eliott’s notorious cooking, which came into view on their fully set table as he entered the dining room. Eliott pulled out one of the dining chairs so he had enough space to bend down in front of it. He lifted Lucas’ legs and helped him properly sit in the chair. He pushed it back into the table before sitting in the adjacent seat.                                                        

As Eliott sat, Lucas took his fork, giving the food on his plate precarious pokes. To Eliott’s credit, it didn’t look as bad as Lucas had imagined. He had made some croque madame, a simple yet delicious dish that Lucas made frequently. He took a deep breath before cutting a piece off and taking a bite.                                                                                                                             As Lucas chewed, Eliott asked, “Well?”                                                                                    “This. . .isn’t so bad.” Lucas had certainly eaten better renditions of croque madame, including his own, but Eliott’s attempt tasted decent enough for him not to gag. “Thank you, Eliott.”                                                                                                                                                      Eliott smiled. “Of course, mon amour.”                                                                                                       The young couple ate in a comfortable silence. Eliott finished before Lucas, but stayed seated until Lucas had his last bite. He then gathered their plates and put them into the sink. Lucas remained sitting at the table, unsure of what to do.                                                                      As Eliott was about to turn on the sink, he glanced over at Lucas. “What are you thinking, love?”                                                                                                                                                                   “Oh, I’m. . .waiting for you. Because of your plan to spoil me.”                                             Eliott’s gaze was full of admiration. “Why don’t you take a shower while I clean up and get ready?”                                                                                                                                               “Get ready for what?”                                                                                                                              Eliott giggled. “You’ll see.”                                                                                                                              Lucas stood and came up to Eliott, wrapping his arms around his waist, letting his chin sit on his shoulder. “But you’re making me curious. Why can’t you tell me now?”                  

“Where’s the fun in spoiling you if I can’t surprise you?”                                                                         “You’re the one having fun in surprising me. I’m not having fun, I want to know!”                             But you will know. You just have to wait.” Eliott turned on the sink. “Now, go take a shower. The warm water will help your hip.”                                                                                                Lucas pouted. “Fine.” He kissed Eliott’s shoulder before leaving the kitchen.                         The sound of the sink running lessened as Lucas walked down the hallway. He stopped in front of the doorway to their bedroom, nearly getting a pair of clean boxers. However, despite not knowing Eliott’s plans, after a moment of consideration, he felt safe guessing that if he put boxers on, Eliott wouldn’t let them stay on for very long.                            

Lucas blushed at the thought as he made his way to the bathroom. He wasted no time as he stripped and hopped into the shower. He kept his shower brief, partially because he didn’t want to keep Eliott waiting, but also because his curiosity and excitement were eating him alive. However, that didn’t stop him from cleaning himself thoroughly, paying extra attention to his privates. Keeping Eliott’s comment in mind, he made sure his bruised hip faced the showerhead during most of his soak, letting the hot water stroke the tender area.

Once Lucas dried off, he opened the bathroom door. The apartment was dark; the only source of light came from his bedroom, though too dim to be coming from a lamp. He could hear faint ambient music coming from his room’s half-ajar door. Without a single piece of clothing on, Lucas approached the door, gently pushing it fully open.                                         

Lucas gasped.                                                                                                                                            His bedroom was filled with candles, enough to illuminate light on everything in the room. He could faintly smell incense, its smoke rising from the back left corner of the room. On the bedstand, there were multiple small bottles of liquids. He recognized one of them to be the lube he and Eliott most often used, but the rest were unfamiliar.                                                       Lucas was so enamored with the sight, he didn’t notice Eliott’s presence until he spoke.                           

“Do you like what you see?” Eliott was sitting on the bed, only wearing boxers.                  “Eliott. . .” Lucas tried to speak with suspicion, but he couldn’t hide a smile from blooming. “Just what do you plan on doing to me?”                                                                                         Eliott stood, putting his arms around Lucas’ waist. He leaned his face in close enough so the tips of their noses brushed.                                                                                                                     “Let’s just say that you walked in prepared.” He slid his hands to Lucas’ ass and gave it a gentle squeeze.                                                                                                                                                   Lucas yelped, blushing as Eliott chuckled. The shorter male rose an eyebrow. “Prepared for what?”                                                                                                                                                       Eliott continued to smile after his giggles ceased. He then leaned into Lucas’ ear and whispered, “Lie on your stomach and I’ll show you.”                                                                      A shiver went up Lucas’ spine. Too curious and excited to continue questioning, he complied with Eliott’s request. As Lucas laid waiting, he was only able to see the bed’s headboard, but could feel Eliott shifting on the bed, swinging over his boyfriend’s legs. Lucas heard Eliott take one of the bottles on the bedstand, open the cap, and after a moment of silence, place the bottle and the cap back down.                                                                                                               

Lucas was nearly trembling with anticipation, about to ask when Eliott was going to touch him already. Eliott, his and Lucas’ minds being semi-conjoined, must have sensed that question coming, because it was at that moment which he placed his hands on Lucas’ deltoids, his thumbs rubbing his muscles gently.                                                                                                        Lucas released what sounded like a half-gasp, high-sigh. It was filled with relief; Eliott’s hands on him always felt good, but Lucas had never received a massage before, nor had he thought it was something Eliott had in mind. He had no complaints, closing his eyes as he let Eliott work his magic touch.                                                                                                                         Eliott spent a few minutes on the Lucas’ deltoids before moving his hands towards the center, focusing on the area between his shoulders. Soon after shifting his focus, he asked, “Does this feel good, baby?”                                                                                                                       “He. . .hell yes.” Lucas’ voice was muffled due to having buried his face into the pillow.               

Eliott chuckled. “I’ve barely gotten started and you’re already melting.”                                       Lucas lifted his face from the pillow. “That’s because I’ve never been touched like this before. . .”                                                                                                                                           Eliott slid his hands downwards, caressing the top of Lucas’ spine. “There’s a first for everything, isn’t there?” He leaned downwards, placing a wet kiss below Lucas’ neck. “But sometimes I can’t believe it.”                                                                                                            “Believe what?”                                                                                                                                         “That I got, and continue to be, your first.” Eliott lifted his hands to add more of what Lucas figured was massage oil. He almost whined at the loss of touch; he needed Eliott so badly, he would have begged and screamed for him to touch him, if that was what it took. Thankfully, he didn’t have to, because within seconds, Eliott’s hands were back on him, now rubbing the upper sides of his back.                                                                                                                               “But why?”                                                                                                                                         “Because I can’t believe no one snagged you before I did. You’re so fucking sexy, Lucas, you have no idea.”                                                                                                                                         Lucas moaned as blood rushed to his face, burying his face into the pillow again. “Eliott. . .”      “I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true, mon amour.” Eliott’s hands had moved to the small of Lucas’ back. He pressed slow, sensual kisses down his spine, only stopping when he spoke.                                                                                                                                 “I have never wanted to touch a man as much as you. I have never been as turned on as I have with you. I have never wanted to protect, cherish, and treasure someone as much as you, Lucas Lallemant.”                                                                                                                    Lucas’ next moan came out like a cry. He had been perfectly happy with Eliott massaging him, as had been convinced that this massage was the entirety of Eliott’s plan on spoiling him. However, now Lucas could have kicked himself for having believed such a notion; Eliott talking like this never ceased to rile him up. He knew saying such sweet things was a one-way ticket to turning Lucas on; Eliott’s words went straight to Lucas’ cock.                                As tempted as he was to grind his hips into the mattress and make his dick fully hard, Lucas kept his body still. His cock could wait; he wanted, no, needed Eliott more than anything else in the world right now.                                                                                                                                         By the time Eliott’s slick hands reached his boyfriend’s lower back, Lucas had melted into a puddle. Moans spilled through his lips whenever Eliott caressed or kissed a sensitive spot. Lucas had no idea how long he had been lying on their bed, but the least he knew was that Eliott was taking his sweet time, making sure every centimeter of his backside had been touched. Feeling so cared for by someone that he loved more than anything made his heart swell with joy; he could have Elliott’s hands all over him forever.                                                 At the same time, as Eliott had found more sensitive spots, Lucas’ cock had slowly grown harder. He only managed to keep his hips still by keeping his attention on Eliott’s touch instead.                                                                                                                                                      Once Lucas’ lower back was slick with oil, Eliott’s fingers ghosted over Lucas’ bruise, lightly enough so he didn’t trigger any pain.                                                                                                        “Can I touch you here, baby?” Eliott’s voice was raspy, having dropped a couple octaves since the last time be spoke.                                                                                                                         “Yes, just be careful. . .” Lucas would have preferred his cock getting touched instead, but clearly Eliott had other priorities, and he wasn’t turned on enough to be willing to interfere. Keeping one hand on Lucas’ unbruised hip, the shorter male could hear Eliott pick up a bottle from the bedside table. Lucas initially assumed it was the massage oil. However, he realized this wasn’t the case when Eliott began rubbing a thicker, cooler liquid on to the bruised area.                                                                                                                 “It’s ointment, love,” Eliott said before Lucas could ask. “It should help it heal faster.”  Eliott’s pressure was perfect; he rubbed hard enough for Lucas’ skin to absorb the ointment, but soft enough that he triggered very little pain. The ointment left a cooling yet pleasant sensation on his skin.                                                                                                                             “Oh. Since when have you kept bruise ointment in the house?”                                                        “Since I found it on sale last month.” Eliott chuckled, planting a kiss on Lucas’ spine just above his tailbone. “Thought we might need it sometime.”                                                          Lucas smiled, grinning in adoration. “Oh, Eliott, what would I do without you?”                               Eliott lifted his hand off of Lucas’ hip, scooting a few centimeters backwards as he poured one of the substances on the bedside (Lucas wasn’t sure which one to guess anymore) into his hands. Lucas didn’t know why his boyfriend was suddenly moving, but if there was one thing he was certain about, it was that Eliott had an impish, shit-eating grin flashing across his face.                                                                                                                                    “Without me, you wouldn’t be able to feel. . .” Eliott placed both hands on Lucas’ ass. “This.” He rubbed each globe in circular motions.                                                                                                Lucas let out a squeak, which turned into a moan. “Oh. . .”                                                                                   Eliott never missed a chance to touch his boyfriend’s ass, and Lucas had no complaints; he loved being touched behind as much as he did in the front. What made this different was that Eliott was massaging his ass the same way he had massaged his back rather than grabbing or squeezing it, caressing all the right spots.                                                                                               

“Am I wrong?” Eliott asked.                                                                                                                   Lucas responded with another moan. His body had become so relaxed, he felt it had become one with the bed.                                                                                                                       Eliott’s hands slowed as they moved to the sides of his ass, grabbing it gently. “It’s a yes or no question, Lucas. . .”                                                                                                                       “Hnnn. . .no, Eliott. You’re not wrong.”                                                                                       Eliott chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.”                                                                                           The taller male suddenly stopped moving his hands. Lucas assumed his hands remained still on his ass, until he felt Eliott’s thumbs near his crack, exposing his hole.                                   

Lucas tried to crane his head over his shoulder. “Eliott?”                                                          Eliott didn’t respond, though Lucas felt his boyfriend’s breath approach his hole. He then felt his breath directly above his hole, and then his-                                                                         “Ohmigod!”                                                                                                                             “Huh?” Eliott lifted his head away from Lucas’ hole. “Baby? Did that not feel good?”                       “Eliott, did you just. . .put your tongue on my. . .” Lucas was grateful Eliott couldn’t see his face, because it was flushed as red as a beet.                                                                                          “Yes, I was about to rim you, mon amour. I thought you loved getting eaten out!”                                     

“I do. You’ve just never done it by surprise before!”                                                                    Eliott sighed. “Do you not want a rimjob? All I want is for you to feel good. . .”                                  “Eliott, that’s not what I meant. I’d still love to get eaten out. But why surprise me with it?” Eliott’s hands resumed caressing Lucas’ ass. “Because when I saw you crying today. . .I couldn’t stand seeing you in pain. I wanted to do something to make you feel wonderful, and a massage with a rimjob was the first thing that came to mind.” Eliott kissed the small of Lucas’ back. “I wanted to surprise you because you get excited whenever I do. And when you love what I surprise you with. . .it makes all the effort worth it.”                                                    Pieces clicked together in Lucas’ mind; this was why Eliott wanted him to shower first. Lucas thanked himself for washing his backdoor thoroughly, and could have kicked himself a second time for having not figured that out sooner.                                                                     Lucas turned the entire front half of his body so he could look at his boyfriend in the eye.                

“In that case, if you want to give me a rimjob. . .” He gave his ass a shake. “Then give me a fucking amazing rimjob.”                                                                                                                 Eliott was so caught off guard by Lucas’ sudden encouragement, he stared at Lucas with his jaw slightly agape. This expression only lasted for a few moments before it transformed into his signature impish grin. He waited for Lucas to lay back down properly before bringing his face towards his hole again.                                                                                                               When Eliott’s tongue brushed against Lucas’ hole, he gasped. Eliott made a few more experimental licks, as if he was waiting for a green light.                                                                         “Keep going.” Lucas rolled his hips upwards. “Feels good.”                                                             Eliott lifted his tongue, brought it down to Lucas’ perineum, and licked a long stripe from there to his hole. Lucas shuddered, hands gripping the sheets so hard, his knuckles turned white.                                                                                                                                                              A guttural groan arose from Lucas’ throat as Eliott began going to town. His licks on Lucas’ hole became quick and vigorous, the tip if his tongue making teasing darts into his rim. Lucas rocked his hips on to Eliott’s tongue, attempting to meet his thrusts.                                           

Eliott removed his tongue to coo, “You want me deeper, baby?”                                                               Lucas responded with a moan, nodding with vigor.                                                                        Eliott put a hand on Lucas’ left hip and rubbed it gently. “Answer me with words, Lucas.” As much as Eliott loved the sounds Lucas made during sex, sometimes, he needed intelligible confirmation to make sure he wasn’t going too far.                                                                       Lucas whined, but forced himself to admit, “Yes, Eliott. Deeper, s’il vous plaît!”                                  Eliott giggled. “Will do.” He slowly inserted the tip of his tongue back into Lucas’ hole, then without warning, thrust it deep inside.                                                                                Lucas responded with a moan so obscene, it sounded like it came out of a pornstar. He blushed, embarrassed within all the pleasure, because of how quickly he was losing composure. Eliott had rimmed him more times than he could count, yet whenever he gave him one, he never ceased to make Lucas fall apart within minutes.                                                      

To Lucas, there was nothing like having his ass in the air, face buried into his pillow, reaching his arms back to shove Eliott’s head closer, and moving his hips backwards to meet his boyfriend’s movements, all at the same time. He was being pushed into ecstasy, his cock throbbing against the sheets as he lost all sense of reality.                                                                        

That is, until Eliott pulled his tongue out and pushed against Lucas’ hands, moving Lucas’ arms so his hands were off of his head.                                                                                                      Lucas whimpered, thrusting backwards into air. “Babe! Why’d you stoooop?”                                        Lucas could tell Eliott was holding back laughter when he replied, “I couldn’t breathe with how deep you pushed my face into your ass.”                                                                                   “. . .Oh.” Lucas blushed all over again. “Sorry, love.”                                                        “I’m not mad. I must be doing something right for you to nearly suffocate me.”                                    “Dieu, Eliott, you’re doing everything right. I just need to touch you. I need to see you.”

Eliott kissed the tip of Lucas’ spine. “Then lie on your back, mon amour.” He moved his head far enough from Lucas’ body to give him room to move.                                                   Lucas flipped on to his back as if the bed was on fire, jiggling the mattress. His cock was rock hard, flushed red as it hit his stomach. He would have loved to touch himself, or have Eliott touch him there, but resisted, solely because he knew having an orgasm untouched would be worth the resistance.                                                                                                                       Lucas lifted and spread his legs, giving his boyfriend a view of his hole he couldn’t have resisted if he tried. Eliott’s leaned his head back in, placing Lucas’ legs over his shoulders before spreading Lucas’ ass again. Eliott’s large hands kneaded Lucas’s ass, his breath hitting his hole as he licked and kissed around it, but not on it.                                                              Without thinking, Lucas blurted, “Eliott, please stop teasing. I need your tongue in me or I’m going to die.”                                                                                                                                                  Lucas slapped his hand on his mouth as soon as he spoke, blushing crimson. He felt worse when Eliott’s mouth ceased all movements. However, Lucas didn’t have the chance to ask if something was wrong, because next thing he knew, Eliott thrust his tongue inside him, as deep as it would go.                                                                                                                         Lucas’ back arched, a silent scream falling from his lips as Eliott’s tongue swirled inside his most intimate area. He tangled his fingers into his hair, tugging it as encouragement. Eliott was clearly getting the message, because the more Lucas tugged his hair, the faster and rougher Eliott thrust his tongue. In the midst of it all, Eliott used his lips to suck on Lucas’ outer hole.                                                                                                                                                Lucas had no idea how he got so lucky to have a boyfriend who was a pro at rimming (among other things), but he had no complaints. Filthy, high-pitched moans escaped his lips; he was unable to speak, yet his mind chanted a mantra of Eliott Eliott Eliott. He didn’t think it could get better than this.                                       Except, that turned out to be a lie. Because that was when the tip of Eliott’s tongue brushed against his prostate.                                                                                                                                “Oh fuck, Eliott! Yes, right there! Right there!”                                                                              Lucas swore he could feel Eliott make his signature shit-eating grin, as his lips were still on his hole. Eliott shifted his head so when he thrust his tongue, it hit directly against Lucas’ sweet spot.                                                                                                                                                               Lucas threw his head back, clenching against Eliott’s tongue. He would have arched back his back a second time, had Eliott not moved his hand to Lucas’ uninjured hip and pinned him on to the bed. He was pulling Eliott’s hair so hard, he was pretty sure he was hurting him, but he was too turned on to care, nor did Eliott seem bothered by the pain.                           

Lucas may have been only getting pleasured in one area, but ecstasy was coursing through his entire body, clouding up his mind. His internal mantra now slipped between Eliott Eliott Eliott and there there there. All of his senses heightened further when Eliott began moaning inside his hole, the vibrations of his voice hitting all the right places in all the right ways.                

If there was one thing Lucas knew, it was that he was close. His balls were tight, so close to release. A part of him was surprised that he hadn’t succumbed to touching himself or begged Eliott to touch him. He was tempted, yet felt he was waiting for something; if he waited until the perfect moment, he would be rewarded with an intense orgasm, no touching required. Lucas was proven right when Eliott hit his prostate with his tongue while moaning simultaneously.                                                                                                                         “Putain, Eliott!”                                                                                                                                      Lucas barely managed to warn his boyfriend before his vision turned white. His head was knocked backwards, fisting Eliott’s hair as ropes of seed coated his stomach. He moaned and wailed throughout the entirety of his orgasm, only ceasing when his cock stopped twitching. As his body drifted into post-orgasm bliss, Lucas felt he was floating. His chest was full of warmth and pleasure, a sensation that he hadn’t experienced all week. He was so enraptured in bliss, he didn’t notice that Eliott had withdrawn his tongue until he felt his lips on his torso.                                                                                                                                  Lucas opened his eyes and looked down. Eliott was cleaning up his orgasm, leaving gentle, languid kisses on his lower body while licking up his seed. He kissed the tip of Lucas’ head the most gently, making sure not to overstimulate him. Eliott peered up at Lucas through heavy lashes as he worked; the sight of being cared for and looked at with such admiration was enough to make Lucas tear up.                                                                                                       “Eliott. . .” Lucas smiled. “I love you. So, so much.”                                                           Having kissed all of Lucas’ seed away, Eliott climbed up Lucas’ body, leaving kisses on his stomach and chest along the way. When he reached Lucas’ face, he smiled, as Lucas’ lips were already puckered and waiting to be kissed.                                                                                         “I love you too, my beautiful Lucas,” Eliott responded before locking lips with his boyfriend.    As the two young men began to make out, Lucas could vaguely taste his seed from his boyfriend’s mouth. He was familiar enough with the taste of cum that normally, this would not have bothered him. However, tasting it caused him to break their kiss because it reminded him of something.                                                                               “Wait, Eliott. You haven’t gotten off yet.”                                                                                   “Actually. . .” It was Eliott’s turn to blush. He moved his head away, tilting it downwards in reference to his cock. “I have.”                                                                                  “Huh?”                                                                                                                                                     Eliott lifted his body enough so that Lucas could see his lower body upon looking down. Eliott’s cock was out, his cum-stained boxers pushed down just enough to expose it, and flaccid.                                                                                                                                                 “I couldn’t resist touching myself.” Eliott blushed deeper. “You were so fucking hot Lucas, words can’t begin to describe it.”                                                                           “Ah, that explains the moaning.” Lucas kissed each of Eliott’s blushing cheeks. “Which felt ungodly, by the way.”                                                                                                     “I could tell, with how hard you pulled my hair.”                                                                              Lucas’ face fell as the memory of his hair-pulling resurfaced. Eliott burst into laughter.  “Baby, it’s okay. You didn’t hurt me, it felt good.”                                                         Lucas released a sigh of relief. Having nothing else to say, he responded with a smile before leaning in to resume kissing Eliott.                                                                     Lucas and Eliott continued their make-out session until they began dozing off. Before falling asleep, Eliott removed his boxers, tossed them aside, and blew out all the candles before tucking Lucas in and joining him. He wrapped his arms around Lucas and cradled him, kissing the top of his head as Lucas buried his face into his chest.                                                         Lucas fell asleep surrounded by Eliott with all of his worries extinguished, his last thought being that he wouldn’t trade his boyfriend for anything in the world.    

[thechemistryofelu]

Put Your Legs On My Shoulders

Lucas loved being on Eliott’s shoulders.                                                                                                 There were many things Lucas loved about his boyfriend; if he were to list all of them down, he would fill up an entire notebook. Simply, being on his shoulders consisted of one of the traits on that list.                                                                                                                             Regardless of Lucas and Eliott’s considerable height difference, the concept of Lucas riding Eliot’s shoulders hadn’t occurred to either of them until several months into their relationship. It began when they were spray painting the abandoned building near Eliott’s beloved bridge with Arthur, Yann, and Basile. Lucas was enjoying it at first, but he soon became frustrated. Him being the shortest one in the group, he was unable to reach as high as the rest of them.                                                                                                                                 After constant reaching and standing on his tip-toes, Eliott could tell how frustrated Lucas had become. Eliott wasn’t sure how, but in the spur of the moment, that’s when he got the idea.  

He had placed a hand on Lucas’ shoulder and squeezed it gently. Lucas immediately stopped painting, standing still as he met Elliott’s gaze.                                                                             “Eliott?”                                                                                                                                   “Lucas, let me help you.”                                                                                                                                           He rose an eyebrow. “Help me. . .?”                                                                                                   Elliott smiled as he turned around and bent over, peering his head to instruct, “Get on my shoulders.”                                                                                                                                               “Your should – oh.” It took Lucas a second to understand what Eliott was instructing. After the initial surprise of Eliott spontaneously proposing his idea, Lucas found himself grinning as he climbed on to his boyfriend and clamored his legs around his shoulders.                                    

While having only Eliott’s neck and back to support him looked precarious, Lucas had no worries. He felt secure when having any kind of physical contact with his boyfriend, and was pleased that he was now able to reach higher on the mural than Eliott or any of his friends.                                                                                                                                                       Ever since that day, Lucas would occasionally find excuses to sit on Eliott’s shoulders. When he felt too tired to move from the couch to the bed, he’d make grabby hands towards Eliott, asking him for a hoist. Eliott would always comply, sometimes taking him around the apartment for a ride before placing him on their bed.                                              

However, Lucas was currently not looking for an excuse for a (literal) lift-me-up. He was preparing to cook dinner, but unable to start because he could not find the olive oil. He was puzzled, as he clearly remembered placing it next to the stove the other day, yet it was nowhere in sight.                                                                                                                                     As Lucas was searching for the olive oil in their cupboards, he heard Eliott enter the kitchen. Lucas was too busy on his mission to point out how Eliott was breaking their rule that he was never allowed in their kitchen for any reason, ever.                                                                

“Looking for something?” The tone in which Eliott had asked that question told Lucas that Eliott was up to something. While he had been up to many somethings throughout their relationship, Lucas knew by now that these “somethings” didn’t always mean something good.                                                                                                                                                             “Yeah, I can’t find the olive oil.” Lucas rummaged through the cupboard directly above the stove. No olive oil.                                                                                                                                 “Oh?” Lucas was faced away from his boyfriend, but he could hear the smile emerging on Eliott’s face. “Do you have any idea where it might be?”                                                                       “Uh, I last put it next to the stove. . .” Lucas gestured to the spot he remembered putting it before turning around, intending to go to the other side of the kitchen to check the cupboards there. However, he froze in his tracks when he found Elliott standing right behind him, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.                                                                    

Normally, Lucas loved seeing Eliott grin. His smile was absolutely breathtaking; seeing it made Lucas get butterflies in his stomach, even this far into the relationship. However, nothing made Lucas happier than being the one to make Eliott smile. During his lowest points, knowing he could make his lover feel so much joy gave him a reason to keep going. It was a significant trait in the list of reasons why Lucas loved him.                                                

Regardless, what Lucas did not love was this shit-eating grin of Eliott’s, mainly because of the context he was making it in. All he wanted was the olive oil to make some goddamn dinner, and Elliott had turned a simple task into the fundamentals of rocket science.                              

“Eliott.” Lucas’ tone became stern. “Where did you put the olive oil?” He didn’t need to ask if Eliott had moved it to begin with; his shit-eating grin already answered that question.  

Eliott’s grin only got bigger. “Oh, nowhere special. . .”                                                         “What do you mean, nowhere special?” Hoping Eliott hadn’t removed the olive oil from the kitchen altogether, Lucas resumed his search, looking in the cupboard across the room. As he scanned the shelves, a wave of relief washed over him when his eye caught the gleam of the glass bottle.                                                                                                                             Unfortunately, that relief didn’t last long. Because the bottle was on the very top shelf of the cupboard. In other words, too high for Lucas to reach. . .without assistance.                  

Lucas’ face fell as he came to the realization. His head snapped towards Eliott with a glare. “You didn’t.”                                                                                                                                             By now, Eliott was giggling. As adorable as Eliott’s giggle was, another part of him that Lucas loved, it wasn’t what he currently wanted to hear.                                                                     “It’s awfully high, isn’t it?” Eliott stepped closer to his boyfriend. “I don’t think you’ll be able to reach it.”                                                                                                                                       “I. . .don’t think I will either.” Lucas frowned. “Eliott, this isn’t funny.”                                       “You’re right, it isn’t funny.” Eliott’s giggles ceased. “It’s hilarious.” He burst into full-on laughter.                                                                                                                                             Lucas sighed. “I see how it is. You want to try your hand in the kitchen again and risk poisoning me. Is that it?”                                                                                                                     Eliott’s laughter was cut short with a gasp. “No! I don’t want to poison the love of my life!” He wrapped his arms around Lucas, holding him close.                                                     “Okay, so if you don’t want to poison me. . .” Lucas didn’t hold Eliott in return. He knew this pained Eliott, but he was adamant on refusing to give his boyfriend affection until he knew why he did something so absurd.                                                                                               Eliott didn’t hide his pain. He pouted before speaking. “I want to help you, my love. And hold you. And touch you.” He slid one of his hands down Lucas’ back, stopping at his thigh and squeezing it gently.                                                                                                                         Lucas was about to ask Eliott how wanting to do those things to him was relevant to hiding the olive oil. Except once Eliott grabbed his thigh, he didn’t have to, because that was when the answer became clear.                                                                                                             The only time Eliott touched Lucas’ thighs (outside of sex) was when he was sitting on his shoulders.                                                                                                                                               “Oh.” Lucas couldn’t be mad at his lover anymore. “You like it when I sit on your shoulders?” Eliott nodded. “I like carrying you on my shoulders because when I do, I know I’m helping you. When I help you. . .I feel like I matter.” He held Lucas’ face as he kissed his forehead.

“Eliott. . .” Lucas put his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. “Even if you didn’t carry me on your shoulders, you’d still matter to me more than anything in the entire world. It’s just a bonus.”                                                                                                                                                     Eliott smiled. A genuine, heartfelt smile, not a shit-eating one. “But I like giving you bonuses. I want to make up for all the times when I’m. . .not so great.”                                         Lucas squeezed Eliott closer. “You can’t help the way you are, love. You don’t need to make up for it. You’re enough, and I love you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to his lover’s nose.                        

Lucas noticed Eliott beginning to tear up before he pulled Lucas into a tight embrace. “I love you too.” He kissed the top of Lucas’ head, cradling his boyfriend close.                                      

After a moment of hugging each other in silence, Eliot asked, “How did I get so lucky?”                          

“I could ask the same thing,” Lucas said. “But we’ll argue all night if we do.” He reluctantly pulled out of Eliott’s embrace. “Now, bend over so I can sit on those giant shoulders of yours.”                                                                                                                                         “Giant shoulders, eh?” Eliott bent down, grunting as Lucas climbed on to him. “My giant shoulders are for more than just sitting on, you know.”                                                                     Lucas didn’t have to see Eliott’s face to know that he had winked and smirked. Heat rose to his cheeks, letting his flustered giggle be his response as Eliott fully stood up. He properly positioned himself in front of the cupboard, allowing Lucas to grab the olive oil with ease. He lowered the bottle into Eliott’s hand, who placed it on the counter.                                                           

Eliott then made his way to their bedroom; it was an unspoken rule that he always let Lucas off his shoulders on their bed. Eliott carefully laid down on his back, letting Lucas clamber off of him. Rather than going right back to the kitchen, Lucas shifted so he laid on his side of the bed.                                                                                                                                                     Eliott peered up at his boyfriend. “Oh? Is it that time already?” He rose his eyebrows.            

“No, not yet.” Lucas flushed all over again. “I just want to give you some love before dinner. You need some.”                                                                                                                                   Eliott flashed another one of his award-winning smiles before crawling into his side of the bed. Him and Lucas held each other close as they exchanged warm, gentle kisses.                            

As impish and insecure as Eliott could be, when being held and kissed by this wonderful man Lucas got to call his boyfriend, his heart was so filled with love, he wouldn’t have it any other way.