Chapter Text
TJ’s friends were definitely dickheads. They had, without his input, decided that now that he turned twenty-seven he apparently had gotten ‘too old’ for their regular selection of bars. So instead, here they were, at some fancy upper class bar, in a completely different part of DC.
At this point, he was pretty sure he had spotted at least one senator.
“Hey TJ, first rounds on us, but after that you're on your own, capiche?” his friend, Elliot, had said the moment they had all looked at the drinks menu. While normally the group would take turns paying for the birthday boy's drinks, none of them had apparently budgeted for these extreme prices. $35 for a dry martini? That was simply outrageous.
So that was how, even after their group had been sitting for two hours, TJ still found himself with only a slight buzz.
Elliot was in the middle of telling the group about this cute guy he had met last week, when the waiter stopped by their table, and sat down a drink in front of TJ “From the gentleman sitting at the end of the bar,” she said, gesturing to said ‘gentleman’.
Now, TJ was no stranger to being brought drinks; sometimes, at the various gay bars and clubs their little group frequented, men would see his small feminine frame, and assume he was an easy lay.
And they were usually right. If it wasn't for the fact that many of the men he met were either turned off by his transness, or saw it as something exotic, TJ would be getting laid a lot more often than he was right now. Sure, he was experienced, and had had a couple of long term partners before, but these days, he mostly went home to his trusty Hitachi wand.
But the gentleman who had supposedly bought him this drink, was like TJ's dream guy. Sharp suit, almost as sharp as his jawline. Floppy hair, styled immaculately. He had, throughout the night, checked him out subtly. Or maybe he hadn't been subtle at all, if the guy had caught on.
Realizing that the waiter was still looking at him, probably waiting to be dismissed, “Uhm, thanks? Did he say anything?” TJ asked. When the waiter said no, TJ thanked her again, and that seemed to be the right thing to do, because she finally left.
“TJ, dude, you gotta go over there and talk to him. He's like a total smokeshow!” Elliot had told him before the waiter had barely reached the next table. “Nah, I'm out celebrating with you guys tonight. I wouldn't feel right just abandoning you.”
“Dude, when was the last time you got laid? Especially by such a fine specimen as that one?” and “C’mon TJ, you should end the night with a bang, if you know what i mean!” their other friends Jake and Omar, chimed in.
So that was how TJ ended up, cocktail in hand, walking over, and sliding into the seat beside the other man. “Hey. I’m TJ.” TJ didn't know what the procedure was at an upscale place like this, but introducing himself seemed like a good start.
“I'm Elijah. It's a pleasure to meet you TJ. Is that short for anything?”
And, oh god, that accent did things to him. He had always had a thing for accents, but this one definitely took the cake. He wasn't be able to place the origin of it, but he was sure he had to move there if they all sounded like this
“it’s - uhm, it's short for Timothy. but no one calls me that, so don't worry about it,” TJ managed to stutter through.
“Well Timothy, what are you and your friends doing so far away from your comfort zone? I don't mean to sound… elitist but you and your group don’t seem to fit particularly well in with this place's usual customer?”
“Uhm, well that's mostly because my friends are idiots, and decided that for my twenty-seventh birthday we should go someplace more boujee than our usual haunts. I don't think they actually knew what kinda price’s they have at these places.”
“Well, Timothy, I'm decidedly very happy they brought you here, then. My evening only started looking up when you walked in, and I’d hate to think about it, if you'd spend the night somewhere else.” While talking, Elijah had put one big hand on top of TJ's smaller wrist, turned it around, and started stroking his pulsepoint with a thumb.
After getting his breathing back under control, TJ finally mumbled “So, is this the kind of place you usually go?”
“I'm not really one for going to bars all that often - I was supposed to meet a business contact here tonight, but it seems like she decided not to show up.”
“So… what do you do?” TJ asked. This guy had to be at least a little loaded if he could afford to buy himself, let alone a stranger, drinks at a place like this.
“Oh, I do a bit of everything. I have most of my money in stocks and technological development - I'm also involved with a couple of lobbying groups, largely focused on energy production and health care in rural areas - all incredibly boring stuff, I assure you. I'd much rather hear about you. What do you do?”
“Oh! Nothing very exciting, sorry. I manage a coffee shop down in the Dupont circle area.”
“Well, I think that sounds like a very valuable job. I'm sure you must meet a lot of incredibly interesting people on a day-to-day basis.”
“Eh, it's kinda boring most days - it's mostly for the free coffee,” he joked, before trailing off into silence. Where did he go from here? Was it too early to propose anything? Would Elijah even want anything? Matter of fact, should TJ even want anything? This guy could be a serial killer, for all he knew; taking him home, only to kill him in the most gruesome way. Then, again, Elijah didn’t look like the type to own a chainsaw.
Elijah, who was still caressing TJ's wrist, spoke up after a long silence “Well, would you want to come back to my place - I have free coffee.”
Serial killers didn’t offer free coffee. Probaby.
“Sure, let me just go say bye to my friends”
“Of course. I'll wait outside.”
TJ quickly made his way back to the table, told them Elijah’s name, listened to Elliot squeal in excitement, before he left.
The car that Elijah led him to was one of those big black cars that even TJ could see was expensive.
Going to open the passenger side, he was startled when a big hand shot in, out of nowhere, opening the door before he even had a chance to.
TJ could have sworn Elijah was too far away to reach him in so little time. Had he been too absorbed in the car to notice the man? He could feel himself blushing at having zoned out.
When Elijah got in the car, TJ prepared himself for a long car ride. This part was always the worst; when he’d decided to go home with someone, but still hadn't told them about his transgenderism. TJ himself was very content with how his body looked, but the lack of a penis sometimes turned other guys away - nevermind the fact that TJ was usually the one on the bottom.
While Elijah didn't seem like the type who would react with outright violence, sometimes the disgust could hurt just as much.
It was while pondering on the best way to go about springing the (un)fortunate news on Elijah, that the man himself said out loud “I can tell there's something bothering you. If you've changed your mind about going home with me, simply tell me, and I'll drive you home.”
“I haven't changed my mind, but I'm afraid you will - see, the thing is, im transgender. So I have a vagina. but like, i'm a dude, don't worry, and if you take me from behind you won't even notice the difference. Or i could just suck you-”
Elijah cut TJ off mid-ramble “Thank you for telling me Timothy, but to me it makes next to no difference. Is there anything else I should be aware of?”
And, wow again. This man might be one of the most perfect men to ever walk the earth. While he knew that responses like Elijahs should be commonplace, they just weren't.
TJ sagged further down into his seat “No, that was all. But like, seriously, thanks.”
“Of course.”
Soon enough, they reached a part of DC that TJ rarely visited. He had been here once, for a job interview at a hotel, but had been turned away. Apparently he didn’t possess the right “air” around him to be able to work reception at such a place.
When Elijah pulled up to a garage entrance, the door opened with Elijah barely having to slow down the car, before reaching a sloped ramp going underground
When they reached the bottom, TJ became convinced that he had died. died and ascended to some car-nerds heaven - and while it wasn't his heaven, he could still appreciate the sight of so many expensive cars, packed into one place.
After Elijah had parked, TJ went to exit the car - but before he even went to reach for the handle, Elijah had already opened the door, standing aside, like some gentleman in a 50’s movie.
TJ hadn't even noticed Elijah himself getting out of the car, but wrote it off as him being too distracted by all the wealth surrounding him.
The elevator ride was spent in a comfortable silence, with TJ taking the time to admire his catch some more. and Elijah really was a catch. standing beside him, the man suddenly seemed much more powerful than he had in the car. With his broad figure, standing imposingly, he looked like he was used to being heard and obeyed - and knew how to correct disobedience.
When they reached the correct floor, Elijah was the first to step out, walking like he expected TJ to follow him, only stopping in front of a door.
He pulled out his keys, unlocked it and walked inside, before stepping to the side, holding the door for TJ to follow.
As soon as the door was closed behind TJ, Elijah was on him, crowding him against the wall using his body, mouth inches from his own.
TJ could sense the bourbon Elijah must have been drinking earlier, still lingering. The “May i?” was barely out of Elijah's mouth before the smaller man had pressed their lips together, letting his hands reach to tangle in the brown hair.
Elijah must have gotten the idea, because soon his own hands had found their way to TJ's ass, and hoisted him into the air. TJ, still pressed against the wall, let his head fall back, inadvertently making space for Elijah to start sucking marks onto his collarbone, licking his way up the delicate throat, until he reached the pulse point.
Here he stopped, making TJ whine out at the loss of sensation. “We should slow down a bit. I want to hear about what you like, and don't like, before this gets too far. let's go into the bedroom.” Elijah had scarcely finished his sentence before he started carrying TJ down the hall.
Here he sat TJ down on the edge of a bed that could probably fit like 4 people comfortably. And like, who even needed this much place to sleep on? Was this just what rich people did? Waste their money on obscenely huge beds?
When he suddenly felt his shoes come off, he realized that Elijah had gone on his knees, and untied his shoes with deft fingers - while he had wasting time marveling at the size of the bed, the other man had worked towards their (hopefully) shared goal of fucking. Smart.
Free of his shoes, TJ rolled into the middle of the bed, propping his back against the headboard “So… What did you wanna know?”
TJ, over the years, had had lots of sex. With many different people, all with many different styles, and with many different outcomes. After he himself learned what he liked - and disliked - it became easier to weed out the people he wouldn't be compatible with, and the quality had skyrocketed.
Still, he felt completely confident in saying that sex with Elijah was some of the best sex he's ever had.
“So, Elijah, would you wanna do this again? Because I would very much like to do it again?”
Instead of getting an answer, TJ could feel Elijah sneaking a hand around his midriff, pulling his body so his back was flush with the other man's front.
When Elijah started peppering small kisses on his neck, he could feel the drag of slightly chapped lips on his oversensitive skin “Absolutely.”
In the first years following his brother Niklaus’ final betrayal of their family, Elijah quickly fell off his carefully crafted rails.
While seeking his brothers redemption and ensuring his family’s safety hadn't been the only thing he had been doing, it had most definitely been the thing he had always kept at the back of his mind.
His family, being what it was, and who they were, had always taken up a considerable amount of time. Keeping track of Mikael, making sure Nikalus wasn't killing all of Rebekah's dalliances, and ensuring Kol didn't make enough of a racket to tip off their father.
But now that Niklaus had as good as made them the last siblings left - and he himself still undecided on how best to take his revenge, he was, for the first time in his very long life, without a single familial obligation.
At the start he had been overtaken with grief. Grief and rage. Rage at Niklaus, to dare take his family away from him. Rage at Niklaus for making sure he would never experience Rebekah’s light, Kol's endless curiosity, or even Finn's dry wit again. Rage at himself , for letting his brother keep them daggered, locked away, and out of his reach for too long.
But now, many years later, he often found himself, surrounded by all of life's small pleasures - pleasures he had rarely (but occasionally) taken in the centuries beforehand.
One of those pleasures, an intriguing young man, by the name of Timothy, had promised to visit him again. Elijah had earlier been wary of taking the same lover multiple times because of Niklaus’ unfortunate habit of killing them.
But Elijah had thoroughly enjoyed Timothy's presence last time, and had wished to see him again, and found himself in a position where he couldn't see a reason why they shouldn't have a repeat performance - and if it was one more way he could prove to himself he was free from his brothers influence, then that certainly did not hurt.
The first thing TJ noticed when he stepped into the lobby was how sterile it was. Sure, it all looked super expensive and fancy, but lt also looked more like a hotel lobby, than the entrance to a home. While the underground garage had been impressive, this really took the cake.
The second thing he noticed was how out of place he was. Here he was, the worlds most average barista, in a place meant for people who were rich enough to employ his employers several times over.
The short walk - that felt truly like miles - to the receptionist felt like it took forever. He could hear his dirty sneakers squeak on the clean floor. Could almost smell the expensive aftershave of someone who would live here. When he finally reached the counter, the receptionist barely looked up before speaking.
“Sorry, no publicly available bathrooms, go to the bodega down the street.” She said it like someone who had to repeat herself multiple times a day, turning away many people who must look like himself.
“I’m actually here to visit Elijah Miller. He said you would let him know I was here?” He had barely stuttered my way through Elijah's name, before he had her full attention.
“Certainly sir. May I ask your name?” she said in a voice that was much more awake. “just TJ.”
She must have pressed a button, because suddenly she was saying into her headset “Mr. Miller, there's a TJ here to see you.” she paused ” You want me to just send him right up? Certainly, sir” and then to him “If you walk over to the elevator, it's on the 9th floor, first door on your right
The short elevator ride seemed both way too short, and way too slow. While most people on the way, to what was most certainly a hookup, would be excited, TJ felt a vague sense of dread; what if Elijah had changed his mind? Someone of his class and caliber could most certainly do better than some barista tranny.
Being transgender was something he had made his peace with over seven years ago. He had started on testosterone only five years ago, and got his breast tissue removed when he was twenty-two. But he was still very much aware that most men would prefer either a woman or a ‘real’ man. Would Elijah be one of those? All of these worries were not exactly new, but TJ still found himself lost to them
But soon enough the elevator arrived at the 9th floor, and opened with a soft ‘ding’, TJ walked up to the door, and almost as if Elijah had heard him arrive, he opened the door before he had even finished knocking. “Hello Timothy. Glad you wanted to come here again. I trust it wasn't too difficult to find?”
“No, no not at all! It just looks very different in the daylight.” he said, nervously.
Elijah didn't seem to share the same nervous thoughts as TJ because the next thing said was “Would you be interested in sharing a glass of bourbon with me first?” while he gestured towards what was probably a living room. TJ quickly agreed, thinking how he could probably use the liquid courage and followed Elijah into the next room.
The room he was led to, was unlike any living room TJ had ever stepped foot in before. The walls were filled with bookcases, filled from top to bottom with books of all genres. While the entrance had seemed slightly impersonal, it was clear this was a room Elijah must spend a lot of his time. In one of the corners stood a bar cart, filled with different kinds of expensive looking bottles. In the middle of the room stood a pair of identical brown leather couches, on one of them laid a very old looking book. TJ couldn't make out what language the title was in, but he was sure this must be what Elijah had been reading while waiting for him to show up.
While TJ had been taking in the room, Elijah had made his way over to the bar cart and poured a glass of, what looked to be an expensive, bourbon, before asking TJ if he had any preferences. TJ, decidedly, did not have any preferences - mostly because he knew next to nothing about bourbon.
They sat, and talked for a while - TJ was telling him about his new upstairs neighbors, and tendency to come home incredibly late, waking him in the middle of the night, when Elijah placed his hand on TJ’s thigh, putting a stop to all thoughts in his head. “You were saying?”
“Oh. Uhm, yeah, so they also have this dog that…” TJ trailed off again when Elijah's hand started trailing up; ghosted over the fabric of his pants, going under his shirt, and finally, reaching skin. When his hands just stayed there, completely still, TJ finally found his voice again “Uhm. You can get the rest of that story another time, cause right now I just need you to finish what you started.”
Much later, when TJ was more than sure he didn't have another orgasm in him, and Elijah seemed to be resting, contently, propped up against the headboard he said “So. Would you wanna go on like an actual date too? Because, while I'm very happy with how things have been going this far, I think we could have fun doing other things than just sex?”
After a beat of hesitation Elijah finally looked down at TJ “why don't I make dinner for us tonight, and then we can talk about it?”
When TJ had gone home with Elijah from the bar the other night, he had spent the night, and in the morning had been treated to some of the other mans cooking - and while it had been a relatively simple omelet, it had been one of the damn best omelets of his life. So, while he definitely needed a shower first, a meal cooked by Elijah sounded like an ideal scenario.
When TJ said this aloud, he could see a small self-satisfied smile playing on Elijah's lips “Well. Let's get you showered then. I’ll show you to a guest bathroom, because I'm not sure I would be able to keep my hands away from you if we went together.”
In the shower, TJ tried to keep it short and to the point, but he kept catching sight of all the little reminders Elijah had left behind.
On his hips, bruises from Elijah's strong grip were already forming. Small indents from strong fingers, holding on just a little too tight.
On his chest, spanning up his neck sensitive hickeys were developing. From where Elijah had bitten and sucked sensitive skin, making him writhe under the other man. He had traced TJ's scars with his tongue before biting right above, mixing pain and pleasure in a perfect cocktail.
On his back he could still feel the phantom pains of a cane, being swung in mock punishment.
He couldn't help running his hand over a particularly pronounced mark, placed right under his collarbone. This man sure could bite, huh.
Out of the shower, he quickly put his clothes back on, trying to make up for all the time spent in the shower. No reason to keep Elijah waiting after all.
In the kitchen, Elijah was already in full swing chopping vegetables. Rolled up sleeves, still-wet hair and shirt not completely buttoned. Somehow this version looked even more delicious than the completely naked man he had just had sex with.
“I hope you find pasta puttanesca acceptable. I put a bottle of wine on the kitchen island, you're welcome to help yourself to a glass”
TJ realized he had been staring, and no doubt Elijah had noticed. Slightly embarrassed, he walked over and pulled out a chair.
While he wasn't a bad cook - he could do the basics, and knew how to make some mean pancakes - he was also self aware enough to know he would never be able to hold a candle to Elijah’s cooking.
Elijah, who was currently chopping onions faster than TJ's eyes could follow. Yeah, he wasn't gonna interfere where a master was working.
Making himself comfortable, he prepared himself for a show.
“Okay, I don't think I could eat even a bite more, no matter how good this pasta is.”
Elijah chuckled quietly. “Well. I'm very glad you enjoyed your meal. Does that mean I'll have to save my souffle-making skills for another time?”
His heart started racing. Another time. Did this mean Elijah would agree to go on an actual date with him?
Because TJ was the type to fall hard and fast. And he had already lost grip of the handrails.
Elijah, as if sensing his racing heart, formed that little self-satisfied smile that TJ really wanted to kiss off him.
“Another time? Does that mean you’ll take me up on the offer of doing non-sex related stuff together?”
“While I'm not opposed to bringing food into the bedroom, I do believe that that's what it means. What would you say about going out for dinner this Friday?”