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Jon walks outside through the hot London air. His heart is racing.
The words of the Archival staff cut deep. Jon’s not human to them; not that he’s been trying very hard. Maybe at a point he wanted to be, or at least try to be. Before Martin was surrounded by Fog. The attempts at humanity just didn’t seem to matter anymore.
Jon sits down at a park bench, unblinking. He takes note of the people walking, none of them have quite piqued his interest yet. One passerby lost someone– a cousin maybe? – to The Slaughter, but Jon knows she isn't worth pressing for details. His hands tremble. He’s hungry, and old written statements were stale and unappetizing. He wants something fresh.
Basira begged him to stop.
The next body that passes feels like a gift. A man marked by the Desolation– an encounter with Jude Perry. Jon stands up from the bench and politely stops him. The man is taller than him by a few inches, a bit heavier. Most people are nowadays. Jon’s so thin, at least, that’s what people think about him. He avoids looking in mirrors for too long, but he knows his clothes used to at least fit his frame, now they droop over him.
“Good afternoon, Robert.” Jon greets him with a feigned smile. The man– Robert– looks frightened, eyes growing wide at the sight of Jon.
“Do I know you?” He asks, his voice firm and his stance defensive. Jon’s fake smile turns into a wide, manic grin.
“No but I know you–” Jon lets out a dark laugh that makes Robert back away, his defense turning quickly into fear.
“I uh– I have money–”
“Come now, Robert. I’m not here for that.” Jon lets this side of him take over, it's almost second nature now. He can blame The Eye or The Web, but he knows deep down that this thirst for knowledge, this inability to hold back– it’s just the ugly parts of him he’s been letting creep through for months. He licks his lips before speaking again.
“Tell me about the woman made of wax.”
He compels, the static filling his head. Robert’s eyes hold in so much fear as the story’s yanked out of his mouth. Jon drinks it in, eyes unblinking. He feels the edge being taken away as the other man speaks. He feels calm; his hands stop shaking, his mind relaxes.
Jon hates admitting the euphoria. He feels more than full, he feels good. He’s been drunk before, smoked pot on occasion. He’s never dabbled with anything more intense, but has to imagine this is the feeling that people chase. Jon’s entire body is tranquil and un-pained. His breath hitches for a moment before he remembers the setting.
Robert’s finished the statement. The Eye’s been fed. Jon blinks for a moment, taking in the scene. The other man stands in front of him, terrified. His eyes are watering, fighting back the physical reaction to what’s just happened. Jon wants to tell him to cry, but is aware enough to know he’s put him through enough. The man wants privacy and Jon wants to give him the illusion that can be granted.
“Thank you, Robert. You may leave.” Jon says, turning away to walk back to the Institute.
His powers are stronger now, they always were after a statement. His senses are completely enhanced, he feels The Eye extending its power, letting Jon take the world in with so much clarity.
That’s when Jon notices that he’s being Watched.
–
Jon waits two weeks before taking another victim. He relentlessly reads through statements in the Archives, doing his best to stay away from talking to others. He isolates himself, almost as intensely as Martin– but at least Martin has Peter.
He’s left without leads or direction. He sits around The Archives, trying to show restraint. He chews gum, smokes cigarettes, reads statements, books, anything he can get his hands on. He’s on edge.
Daisy’s suffering too, and their shared pain makes Jon regret his decision in bringing her back. He wonders now why even he made the choice to stay alive. He can’t take the guilt, watching her get weaker and weaker by the day.
After reading the sixth tasteless statement for the afternoon, Jon leaves. He walks around in the heat, smoking cigarettes and trying to clear his head. He’s good at avoiding people, he always has been an outcast, but now people’s fear called to him. He felt like he was walking past some sort of buffett and he hates himself for even having that imagery. But that’s how it feels, he’s hungry and these statements are meals.
The statements from the institute feel like they’ve been sitting out for too long. The new ones that call to him– they feel warm, inviting. And he wants more and more of the fear calling to him. Jon knows that he’s never been great at moderation. He hates that he can hear Elias’ words in his head when thinks it over.
The victim is a woman in a café. She's young and alone and easy to compel. She had a frightening encounter with The Stranger. The fear Jon drinks from her is almost personal, reminding him of his own encounters with the entity. The wax museum, the kidnapping– Tim.
Jon pushes the thoughts from his mind, letting The Eye take over and feed. He let’s the euphoria aid him in forgetting the memories before the coma. He feels a sense of control allowing himself to feed off of The Stranger. He knows it doesn’t work that way. But for him to feel better, he lets himself think it. He’s gotten pretty good at finding loopholes.
He's supposed to feel bad. Like a monster. He is a monster now. But Jon doesn't feel guilty for what he's done, and now just hates himself more.
–
“Hello Jon.” Elias opens the door with a smile. Jon’s teeth are gnawing at his lip, but the sight of Elias instantly takes his edge off; Jon can breathe.
“You’re– out. Of jail.” He says, taking in Elias’ appearance. He looks more or less the same as before Jon stopped the Unknowing, a bit fuller, but maybe Jon’s just too thin. Out of the two, Jon looks more like he’s the one that's just been released from prison.
Elias nods, opening the door wider and motioning Jon inside.
“I’d say I was surprised you learned so quickly but you’ve become so much stronger since we last spoke.” Elias says as he leads Jon into his large living room. “Would you like a drink?”
Jon takes in Elias’ home. His house is large but modest. The living room shelf is lined with books and more old-fashioned decor. He has a large sectional that Jon takes a seat at, hugging into himself, making him look smaller.
“A drink would be nice.” Elias leaves and returns quickly with two wine glasses.
He’s not really sure why he’s there. He felt the urge after the cafe to walk down a series of roads that lead him here. He'd never been to Elias' home before, but knew exactly where he was once he arrived at the front door.
“Do you have anything stronger?” Jon asks. Elias raises an eyebrow but gets up and returns again with a bottle of clear liquid and a shot glass. Jon pours himself the shot, downing it with a gag and then drinks the wine.
“I didn’t know you to be such a drinker.” Elias comments. Jon shakes his head.
“You don’t know me at all.” He says back with more hostility than he really meant. But Jon’s tired of everyone’s thoughts on him.
“I can’t help but to disagree, Jon. I know you quite well.” Elias sips from his own glass. Jon's body tenses.
“Can we just get straight to it?” Jon asks with no attempts to cover his irritability. Elias motions his hand, giving Jon the floor. “How are you out?”
The other man sits down his glass, and lays back in his seat.
“My confinement was always temporary, Jon. I grew bored of the lack of stimulation, so I walked out.” Jon cocks an eyebrow, he wants to use his power, to compel or know, but he’s too weak. Elias studies him, his grey eyes moving up and down Jon’s tired body. Jon takes another large sip from his glass. He tries anyway to summon his power with his next line of questions.
“Tell me why now–”
“Stop trying, Jon, you’ll just hurt yourself.” Elias interrupts. Jon feels the flash of fatigue all over his body, that mixed with the wine and the shot, he’s feeling light headed.
Elias continues.
“I left primarily because of you. I’ve been watching and can tell you’re not adjusting to your transformation appropriately. Your powers are so much stronger now, but you’re not taking care of yourself. By now I would think you’d know much more, but you’re abstaining. I can only guess it’s because of your staff’s disapproval of your– diet.” Elias looks at Jon with a wide grin.
Jon feels the anger bubble through his body. He’s being taunted. At work he’s too much of a monster and with Elias he’s too human. He can’t win.
“I’m hurting people.” Jon answers, eyes staring at the ground.
“And by restraining from what you really need, you’re hurting yourself.” Jon nods. Elias clicks his tongue. “A shame really, why do other’s needs matter more than your’s?”
Jon looks right at Elias, from his wide grin to his crossed legs. His head rests on his hand like he’s telling Jon about where the wine was imported, not some major philosophical turmoil that Jon’s been plagued with since he woke up a monster.
“I–” He doesn’t have an answer. He used to, when his friends didn’t think he was past saving. When Martin wanted to be around him. When Jon thought himself as introspective and loyal. He looks to the ground, eyes fighting back tears. He refuses to cry in front of Elias.
“It’s alright, Jon. I know that the company you’re keeping won’t see it that way.”
“You left.” He says, jaw clenched. Jon grabs the bottle and pours himself another shot. He swallows it with the same gag, but enjoys the burn in his throat. Elias watches, perplexed.
Jon thought he’d know what to say, how exactly to tell Elias what he thought of him. But that was before he felt his gaze again, realizing now how much he craved whatever feeling this was. Before the coma, Elias’ presence wasn’t this calming, or maybe it always had been and it took his absence for Jon to notice. He sighs.
“You left.” He repeats, the anger in his voice sounds too much like sadness.
Elias just smiles.
“I’ve told you from day one you need to do this on your own, Jon. But now you’re showing far too much restraint and it’s going to destroy you.”
“But you waited for me to come to you.” Jon protests, never truly able to follow Elias’ line of thinking.
“Of course you have to make the choice. And it didn’t seem like you had interest in visiting me in prison.” Elias shrugs, taking another sip of his wine, swirling the contents in the glass.
Jon considers the comment. Elias is much more patient than Jon’s given him credit for in the past. He’s constantly waiting for Jon or– something– to act, mildly prepared but never quite acts on his own. The Watcher. Of course. Jon rubs his temples, feeling the buzz from the alcohol in his body. He lets out a laugh.
“Well I’m here.” He says, throwing back his head in defeat. “Now what?” He put the ball in Elias’ court. Clearly his own choices weren’t getting him anywhere.
“You feed.” Elias states. Jon looks at him, feeling the same tranquil sensation as Elias’ eyes meet his. The comment sent a slight shiver down Jon’s spine. The feeling of permission, the lack of judgment put him at so much ease he almost started laughing again. He bites his lip instead.
“What?”
“You find another fresh statement, Jon.” Elias answers simply.
“I’m– I can’t, Elias.” He says, his voice shaky and uncertain. Elias grins again, standing up from his seat and moving over to Jon.
“You can.” Elias says simply.
His proximity has an even greater effect. Jon feels calmer as Elias gets closer, no longer worried that Elias can hurt him. Or if he could– Jon’s not sure he would be upset.
“I– just took a statement.” He admits, almost in a whisper. He knew that the woman’s words, despite the satisfaction they gave Jon in feeling in control, barely scratched the surface of his hunger.
Elias offers him a soft smile. He places his hand on Jon’s hair. It grew long during the coma, he started wearing it half up, just to keep it out of his face. Elias’ fingers linger there for a moment, his eyes look like he’s admiring Jon.
“Let’s take a walk.”
–
The two walk around a park near Elias’ home. Jon realizes this is the park he was sitting at where he took Robert’s statement, confirming his lingering suspicion that Elias had been the one watching him.
Jon wonders how long he’s been out of jail.
They walk in silence at a fairly slow pace, the heat and the exercise sobering Jon up, where now he just feels exhausted rather than light headed.
“You’re weak, Jon.” Elias says, breaking their silence. Jon sighs. He’s tired of being perceived, either hungry, weak, or horrifying.
“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth, Elias shakes his head. He motions to the right, to a woman jogging their way. Elias moves close to Jon, speaking nearly into his ear.
“Ask about her encounter with the Lonely.” Elias’ breath is on Jon’s neck; his words setting a fire in Jon’s mind. Suddenly, Beholding takes over and he can see precisely what he needs to do. He moves automatically to talk to the woman. She looks frightened, but is unable to move. Elias walks up and stands behind Jon.
“It appears you’ve had some trouble in the past with the ocean, Francine.” Jon states, eyes hungry and dark and locked onto the woman. Her hands shake as he continues but Jon barely notices or cares. He can almost taste the words on her tongue.
“I need to go–”
“Stay put.” Jon growls. He feels Elias’ hand lock in his, encouraging him to continue. Jon takes a deep breath before he begins.
“Tell me about your experience at Brighton Beach in 2015.”
Jon’s faintly aware of Elias’ hand on his, pinching at his palm and rubbing circles up and down his wrist as Francine tells a story about being pulled into the Lonely on the beach in the middle of a heatwave. There was no fog in the forecast, it came out of nowhere. She only escaped thinking she heard the calls of her daughter, who wasn’t even with her at the beach that day. Jon took it all in, feeling once again the same euphoria as before, now amplified with Elias there.
Francine looks dazed when she’s finished speaking. Jon feels the same. It’s Elias who sends her off.
“Run along. That will be all.” He hears Elias say, sounding muted. She takes off, running faster than she had when she was approached. Jon turns toward the other man, suddenly feeling the anger in his head.
“You–”
“You look much better, Jon. Please, let’s return to my home.” Elias says, immediately walking back into the direction of his house. Jon huffs but follows; he’s still riding the high of the statement that’s now amplified around Elias.
Jon doesn’t speak until they return, keeping focus on his balance as he walks. He’s dizzy and almost giddy, despite the anger he feels toward the man in front of him. Elias is also quiet; he’s either aware of Jon’s rage or is simply letting the man enjoy the buzz from his meal.
Jon takes the silence to try and think of what he wants to say. He wants to tell Elias that he hates him, and that he hates himself. He wants to say he hates The Eye and hates that he decided to come back. Tim should’ve survived. That Jon’s a monster not worth saving.
The thoughts continue swirling around his head, but dissipate when they arrive back at Elias' home, Elias beckoning Jon to come inside. He follows, going back to the same spot he sat at earlier and sits down with his arms crossed. He looks at the half finished glass of wine and large bottle of liquor.
“You’re welcome to another drink.” Elias offers with a sly smile. Jon glares.
“I’m fine.” He says. Elias nods, sitting down next to Jon on the sofa, completely invading his personal space. Jon doesn’t recoil, but he doesn’t invite his presence.
“I know you must feel better, Jon.” He says, his grin now a wide smile. Jon doesn’t respond, but the calming effects of Elias’ presence continues. Jon’s anger decreases, but the sadness creeps forward.
Jon thinks about his friends’ words, how they looked at him when they played the tapes that provided evidence of Jon’s diet. How they think there’s no going back from what he is. He thinks about how all Martin did was drop off the tape. He won’t speak to him, no one speaks to Jon unless they have to. He doesn’t feel better at all now– he feels evil.
Elias’ hand runs a circle up Jon’s arm. The touch reminds him of the statement. How good it felt to hear about the woman’s fear of being Forsaken. How scared she was when she thought she was lost forever on that beach. Jon respected the Lonely, but had very minimal respect for Peter Lukas, sending another sour thought in his mind. He looks to Elias, eyes narrowing as he’s flashed with knowledge.
“You were– involved – with Peter Lukas?” Jon asks. Elias doesn’t move his hands off of his, rather, he laughs.
“The world’s information is at your fingertips and our God decides to send you my past suitors.” Jon’s irritation continues. He’s annoyed that Peter Lukas has to be brought up at all. He’s stolen Martin, he’s left Jon completely in the dark, and now he has some twisted on and off past with Elias.
The thought stops his anger. Jon’s not supposed to care about Elias.
“It’s not something I really love just flashing into my head.” He responds, shifting back into his seat. He’s still dizzy and full from the statement, and it’s difficult to stay mad for too long. Especially when Elias’ hands continue to stay on his.
“It was a while ago–” Elias admits “we had some fond times but he is a difficult man to love.” Jon scoffs at the word, surprised that Elias even said it himself.
Jon’s heard the same phrase said about himself.
“You can spare me the details.” He grumbles, rolling his eyes as the knowledge still seems to appear into his head. He sees Elias’ mouth on Peter’s. Peter’s hands wrapped firmly on Elias’ waist. Jon looks at Elias– realizing it’s him putting the images into his mind. He stands up, shaking Elias’ hand off of his.
“What was the point of that?” He says, voice raised. Elias shrugs with a smile, staying in his seat. Jon’s anger returns, now that he created some distance between them. He wants to leave, but doesn’t know what there is to go back to. Elias is joking with him, caring about him, doing more for him than Jon’s done for himself in months. He paces the room, running his hands through his hair.
“Are you jealous of my past with Peter?” Elias asks, breaking Jon’s concentration. There’s a playfulness to the man’s voice– one that Jon can’t quite place. He looks at Elias, sitting in a freshly pressed suit, somehow unwrinkled despite taking a walk. His grey eyes are piercing as he watches Jon move around his living room in a frenzy. The realization hits Jon like a train.
Elias is beautiful.
Jon’s not used to seeing people in these terms. He remembers thinking something about Elias being an attractive man when they started working together more closely, but he’s never noticed him the way that he is now. Perhaps it’s Beholding, or the unmatched eye contact, or Jon actually has lost his mind. He isn’t sure.
Elias notices Jon’s staring and stays silent for a moment. Eventually he does speak.
“It’s interesting, Jon. I’ve seen myself through your eyes over a thousand times now. And this is the only time I don’t know that I recognize myself.” He says with a light laugh. Does Elias not think himself beautiful? He has to. Or maybe it’s Jon’s thoughts about his beauty Elias can’t recognize.
“You have such a lovely internal monologue, you know. Would you like to see how you look in my mind?” Jon blinks finally, taking a moment to consider the question.
“Yes.” He responds in a whisper.
The image is jarring. Jon’s been avoiding mirrors, he sees his long unwashed and messy hair, his worn clothes, and the deep circles under his nearly glowing green eyes. He sees his poor posture and stubble, his thin frame looks even smaller in the context of the living room. And then he feels what Elias feels.
He’s a masterpiece.
Jon steps away, hands shaking.
“You– you can’t think that.” He says with a hysterical laugh. The idea that anyone could find him remotely anything other than a monster rocks him to his core.
“I can see you for what you are, Jon. You’re tired and aren’t taking proper care of yourself– yes. But you’re exquisite. And when you feed–”
Jon sees himself as the woman, Francine, gave her statement in the park. Jon was entranced. His mouth agape as he took the words in with hungry, unblinking and vibrant green eyes.
“--You’re truly a work of art, Jon.” Elias confesses with his same wide smile.
Jon can’t help it when his face turns red. His anger comes back but not nearly as hot as before. He’s mad at himself for seeing that he could possibly look lovely through Elias’ eyes, when feeding for The Eye. When ruining the lives of others for his own expense.
Jon moves back to the couch and cups Elias’ face between his hands. He pulls their lips together.
Elias kisses back with the same intensity, opening his mouth for their tongues to collide. He puts his arms around Jon’s waist and pulls him on top of him. Jon’s hands move from Elias’ face to his neck, holding it firmly as he deepens their kiss.
Elias lets out a soft moan at the pressure. Jon’s legs wrap around Elias’ waist. His contact moved from controlled and nearly timid to rough quickly as he got into the groove. Jon didn’t want this, or at least could think of a time where he didn’t. But now, he needs his hands to be on Elias.
Jon breaks apart to start unbuttoning Elias’ shirt. He works quickly, eyes focused as he moves with each button, only thinking of the end goal– to touch Elias’ bare skin. Jon felt full when he took the statement from Francine, but now a different hunger’s emerged. Whatever anger he’s feeling toward himself– and toward Elias– is now desire.
He undoes the last button. Jon’s hands move up and down Elias’ sides, feeling his soft unscarred skin. There’s no grooves or ridges, he’s unblemished and soft. Jon hates it. His nails scratch down the other man’s sides. Elias lets out a tense breath, hands pushing further into Jon’s hips.
“I’ll say Jon, I didn’t think you were the type.” Elias’ voice is low, there’s a look in his eye Jon’s only seen before on himself.
Elias is hungry for this.
“I told you– you don’t know me.” He growls, scratching Elias’ sides again to make a point, the first set of scratches are already raised and dark red. Exactly what Jon needs to see. Elias jerks again, but firmly keeps his grip on Jon’s hips, adding more pressure with his thumbs. The pain feels good.
Jon starts to feel the bulge in Elias’ pants and grinds his own hips on top of it. His mouth moves to Elias’ throat, planting sloppy wet kisses on his skin. Elias moans a little louder, hips bucking into Jon’s body.
“You’re giving yourself all of the fun, Jon. Undress.” He orders, finally releasing his grip on Jon’s sides to tug at the hem of his shirt. Jon wants to protest, he doesn’t want Elias’ hands on his body– knowing how it’d make him feel. Elias reads this and tugs firmer.
“That wasn’t a suggestion.” He says, his fingers underneath Jon’s shirt to run around his waistline. Jon sighs, mouth still on Elias' neck. He nips at the skin for a moment, leaving a pinch before timidly removing his shirt.
Elias looks Jon up and down and he feels seen. His eyes giving the same unblinking stare as Jon saw himself give in Elias’ mind. For a moment, seeing the look on Elias’ grey eyes, he can see why it’s beautiful.
Jon bites his own lip, grabbing a fistful of Elias’ hair and he bites harder on the man’s throat this time. Elias whines and sharply buck his hips.
“Fuck, Jon.” He says into the crook of the man’s neck. Jon pulls back to check his work. There’s already a deep welt, soon the imprint of his teeth will appear. He matches the grinding rhythm into Elias’ hip, feeling his own erection in his pants.
He makes direct eye contact with Elias, feeling the static whirl around in his mind.
“Tell me what you want, Elias.”
Jon summons his power and Elias visibly shudders. He throws his neck back at the sensation.
“I remember when this didn’t work and fuck– ah you’re so strong now.” He says with a laugh, hands moving up Jon’s body.
“I want your mouth around my cock.” Elias says, the words almost don’t sound like his as he lets the static pull them out.
Jon’s mouth starts back on his neck then to Elias’ collarbone. With every delicate touch of Elias’ finger on Jon’s body he plants another kiss onto Elias’ bare chest, making his way down. His tongue trails down the line of hair on Elias’ stomach to his hip bone. He bites him again– not as hard as he had with his neck– but with enough force for Elias to jerk again. He tugs on Jon’s hair.
“You’re teasing me, Jon.” The man whines. Jon can’t help the smirk forming on his face as he fumbles with the buttons on Elias’ pants. He removes them as fast as he can, and since Elias isn’t wearing any underwear he’s greeted with his firm cock pressing against his body.
Jon takes Elias in, hollowing his cheeks and licking immediately at the base. His hands stay around Elias’ hips, his nails placing deep crescent marks into the skin. Elias is already bucking into Jon’s mouth.
The grip in Jon’s hair is tight and is only fuel to keep his mouth wide open as Elias fucks his mouth.
“Jon you feel so fucking good–”
Jon scratches Elias’ hips.
“God– Jon–” He’s never heard Elias like this. His voice is breathy and uneven and barely in control. Jon’s enthralled by this side of him.
The act of sex itself is not usually enticing, but this curiosity of how far he can push Elias might be. With every scratch of his nails and bob of his neck Jon is more entranced by the noises coming out of the other man’s mouth.
Jon tastes Elias’ precum and feels how hard he is in his mouth. He releases his cock but keeps stroking him. He wants to see Elias’ face again.
His pupils are dilated and his mouth is swollen from kissing earlier. Jon smiles, appreciating his work.
“Tell me what you want, Elias.”
Jon repeats the compulsion and feels Elias cock twitch in his hand.
“I want inside of you Jon, please, I need to fuck you.” Elias moans out, his entire body shivers. He’s not blinking, his wide eyes stay staring at Jon. He considers the demand– he’s never been fucked before and is slightly offput by the idea. But Elias is whining and desperate and Jon wants to continue seeing him like this.
The curiosity outweighs the disdain and Jon moves to undo the buttons of his own pants.
Elias keeps his hands on Jon in any way he can, and Jon keeps eye contact as he removes his pants. Once discarding pants and underwear, Elias’ hand moves right to Jon’s cock. Jon can’t help but twitch at the touch. He lets out a breathy moan as he stares right at Elias, moving his own hand back around Elias’ cock.
They stay like that for a moment, touching each other and looking one another over, completely unblinking. Elias breaks first.
“I have lube– in the bedroom.” He states, Jon nods, following the train of thought. Sadly, he breaks the physical contact with Elias and lets the other man lead the way into the bedroom. The moments without contact are agonizing, and as soon as they reach the bedroom, Jon pushes them both to the bed.
He kisses Elias’ neck again, moving up to the man’s earlobe. Elias’ hands wrap around Jon, he mimics the Archivist’s motions from earlier and scratches down Jon’s sides. His nails aren’t that long but the pressure is inviting. Jon lets out a desperate grunt into Elias’ ear.
With a fluid movement, Elias moves one hand to the dresser to grab the bottle of lube from the drawer. He keeps his other hand firmly on Jon’s hip as he works to open the bottle. He moves to place a soft kiss on Jon’s forehead.
“I’m going to walk you through this process, Jon. Should you decide to stop, I’ll stop. But I really hope that you decide to see this through.” Jon’s eyes stay focused on Elias’, nodding as his hips buck into the other man’s side.
Elias hoists Jon around his wait for easy access to his entrance. He applies the lube to his fingers and moves to spread Jon’s cheeks open.
“This will just be one finger.” He says, working Jon’s hole. Jon frowns once he feels Elias’ finger inside him, tensing around the other man’s body. Elias kisses Jon’s neck.
“Relax Jon, give it a moment.” He soothes. Jon complies and relaxes his muscles, letting Elias’ finger work his way inside of him. The sensation starts to become enjoyable and he lets out a low moan.
“You’re doing so good, Jon.” Elias tells him. The praise makes Jon’s cock twitch.
Elias inserts another finger and Jon’s nails go back into his sides. He bites at Elias’ jawbone, trying to share the irritation. Elias keeps soothing him, telling him he’s doing well and asking him to relax. Jon’s moans are out of a mix of both pleasure and discomfort.
Then Elias hits Jon’s prostate and he can’t control the loud moan that escapes him.
“There we are Jon, you’re so beautiful.” Elias tells him, working his prostate for a minute while Jon’s leaking cock presses harder and harder into Elias’ hip.
“I’m– I’m close.” Jon whispers, barely able to speak.
“You’re perfect, Jon. I’m going to fuck you now.” Jon whimpers as Elias’ hands leave his entrance, he’s desperate, his body rocking in search of contact.
And then Elias’ cock enters Jon. He groans, the sensation is so much more intense than his fingers. Jon grips tight to Elias’ sides.
“Relax Jon–” Elias coaxes him. Jon’s still stiff, unable to get his muscles to calm down. Elias hasn’t moved his cock yet, his hands run up and down Jon’s back and he kisses all over his body. Jon remains still, unable to loosen up.
“It’s too much.” He whispers. But he doesn’t want Elias to stop. Not when he knows how good it can feel.
“Let me help.” Elias offers.
Suddenly, feelings of pleasure, desire, and need fill Jon’s mind. He thought he was aroused previously, but this is an entirely different level. The urge for contact becomes primal.
Jon is unable to discern what these feelings are. Obsession, want, adoration. But there's a sense of peace to them– something that feels like the edge is taken off, like after Jon reads a statement. He realizes then he’s feeling what Elias feels for him.
And in this mind, Jon doesn't hate himself. Elias doesn't– couldn't hate Jon. Despite working to get him arrested, all tense conversations before the Unknowing, even with Jon's own muddled feelings for the man being there; Elias doesn't hate Jon.
And Jon's never not hated himself.
Elias thrusts then, slow at first, rocking to get him comfortable. Jon's gripping onto Elias' body as he rides through the physical and emotional pleasure.
“Jon, you feel so good, darling. You're so tight for me.” Elias moans into Jon's hair. The feelings come back– Elias worships Jon. He can't figure out why, and with another more forward thrust he can't think much of anything.
The pleasure is blinding, nearing overstimulating, but Elias is keeping his thoughts pushed into his head. Elias then grabs Jon's cock and he lets out another loud moan.
“Elias, please. Elias I'm–”
Jon comes, and with a tight grip on Jon’s waist, Elias does too. He finishes inside Jon, something that fills him up in a way he doesn't think he'd like were it anyone else.
The two lay there panting in unison, keeping eye contact. Jon's not sure how he knows, but The Eye is somehow present, involved in this, and it’s pleased. Elias smiles, running his thumb lightly across Jon's cheek. He feels it too.
Elias helps Jon clean up, they quickly shower together and lay back on the bed. Elias continues touching Jon, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles into the man's scarred skin. Jon's eyelids are heavy.
“You were lovely today, Jon.” Elias whispers. Jon hums in response, feeling the wave of sleep taking over him.
Jon knows that these actions have consequences. He knows that eventually the rest of the Archive employees will find out Elias was released from prison. That Jon fed again. That him and Elias–
“Let yourself relax.” Elias interrupts his thinking. Jon scoffs, annoyed that he can't have a private thought.
“I would if you'd get out of my head.” He grumbles, pulling a blanket over his body and pressing into Elias' chest.
The image and feelings of Jon pressed into Elias enter his mind. The feeling of contempt washes over him as he lets Elias' peace lull him to sleep.
Jon falls asleep still thinking he's a monster. But for a brief moment, before his eyes shut, he thinks it’s perfect.