Chapter 121 Stay With Me Tonight
Lucien sat on his large bed, watching Elian go back and forth from the washroom, searching for something.
"You should have let me go, you should have stepped out of the way..." Elian walked toward the bed, muttering angrily as he dropped a clean pile of cloths and a bowl on the bed.
"Take this off," he started to unbutton Lucien’s shirt, gently peeling it away from his body, careful not to hurt his injured arm.
"I’m really not hurting..." Lucien cupped Elian’s face. "It’s just a scratch." He whispered.
"Don’t touch me... you’re not allowed." Elian moved his face away, soaking a cloth in the bowl and wringing water off it.
Lucien sighed, letting Elian work quietly.
"Ugh..." he grunted as Elian wiped the surface of his wound.
"It hurts, right?" Elian rolled his eyes. "You should have thought about it before trying to stop me."
"But I did stop you," Lucien replied softly.
Elian scoffed. "I’m no monster like you. I hurt you. I have to tend your wound and I will leave later." He mumbled.
Lucien simply watched him, the way Elian’s hair fell over his face and shoulders as he wrapped a clean bandage around his wound. His touch was soft, careful and tender, as if he was afraid to hurt Lucien.
"Thank you," Lucien murmured.
Elian did not reply. He picked up the stained shirt, carried his bowl and returned to the washroom.
After a while, he returned, hands washed and face stern as he approached the bed.
"I did not mean to hurt you," Elian said, gaze cast down.
"I know..." Lucien gently stood from the bed and walked over to Elian.
He stopped right in front of Elian and hesitated to touch him. The skies had darkened outside and wind had picked up, leaves rustling over their front deck.
"I’m sorry, Elian. I mean it," Lucien murmured.
Elian lifted his head, holding Lucien’s gaze. "For what? Which part of my pain are you sorry about? You watched me suffer, you watched me leave, you chose her over me—"
"I chose no one over you," Lucien corrected firmly, covering the space between them and wrapping his arms around Elian’s waist, pulling him flush against his front.
Elian bit his lips, hands sprawled flat against Lucien’s bare chest. "Lucien, just stop this. I don’t think I can bear to go through this again," he pleaded, tears forming in his eyes for he knew he craved so much to be held that preciously by Lucien.
Lucien buried his face in Elian’s neck, inhaling softly and pressing soft kisses on the sensitive skin.
"I love you," Lucien whispered.
Elian stiffened, his brain almost forgetting how to assimilate words, limbs going numb that he almost fell if Lucien wasn’t holding him up.
He didn’t speak... couldn’t.
Hearing no response from Elian, Lucien slowly lifted his face and locked his vulnerable gaze on Elian’s shocked face.
"Baby?" He called softly, cupping Elian’s cheeks. "I can’t go back and undo my mistakes... I can’t even promise to make things right right now. But one thing I know is that I can’t keep lying to us... to you... I love you, more than one could imagine, and I’ve loved you for a very long time, my El." His voice trembled and so did his fingers against Elian’s skin.
"I love you... gods... I love you so much," Lucien pressed his forehead on Elian’s, breathing harshly from the overwhelming emotions.
It felt so good to finally tell the right person the right thing. For the first time in his life, he was doing something he really wanted, something he needed.
"No," Elian suddenly shuddered and stepped away from Lucien, hugging himself as he looked away.
Lucien’s hands fell limp to his sides, his face marked with hurt and pain.
"N-no?" Lucien murmured shakily, taking cautious steps forward.
"Elian—"
"No, Lucien..." Elian shook his head. "This does not erase anything..." a soft sob escaped his lips. "You don’t expect me to jump into your arms just because you realised your feelings—"
"I have realised my feelings a long time, Elian. I was a coward, but you were braver than I am..." he took another step closer. "All I’m asking for is a chance to treat you right. I want to be yours, Elian, please, have me... I can’t live without you." He tried reaching for Elian but the smaller man dodged him.
"Stay, Lucien... don’t touch me." Elian ordered.
Lucien obeyed, staying in place and watching Elian carefully.
"Please... stay... I love you..." Lucien whispered.
"When I told you how I felt, what did you tell me?" Elian asked angrily, wiping his tears from his eyes.
Lucien lowered his gaze in guilt, shutting his eyes in shame. "I pushed you away... I mocked you... I insulted you." He answered quietly.
Elian scoffed and nodded. "That’s right. Now, give me a reason why I should open my arms to you after everything."
"No reason..." Lucien murmured. "You have no reason to love me, let me in, or even like me... I deserve everything I’m getting... but, Elian..." he locked his gaze back on Elian’s teary face. "I am also selfish that I want you to love me, regardless of having no reason to." He chuckled sadly.
"Please..." Lucien slowly got on his knees on the wooden floor, his eyes never breaking off from Elian’s as his knees touched the floor.
Elian gasped. "What are you doing?"
Lucien remained on his knees, the wooden floor hard and unyielding beneath him, yet he did not flinch. His injured arm rested loosely at his side, the clean bandage already stained faintly red where the wound still wept, but his eyes never left Elian’s face.
"I’m begging," he repeated, voice low and rough with everything he had held back for too long. "I will grovel if I need to. Love me, Elian... please, my love."
Elian’s breath hitched. The sight of the powerful Duke of the North on his knees, bare-chested, bloodied, and utterly open, cracked something deep inside him. His arms tightened around himself as if he could hold the pieces together.
"Get up," he whispered, the words trembling. "Lucien, get up. This... this isn’t fair."
Lucien did not move. He only leaned forward slightly, the muscles of his shoulders shifting, the firelight painting gold across the planes of his chest.
"Nothing about us has ever been fair," he murmured. "You gave me your heart once and I threw it back at you like it meant nothing. Let me give you mine now. All of it. Broken pieces and all."
Elian’s tears spilled over. He took one shaky step closer, then another, until he stood right in front of Lucien. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch, to push him away, to pull him closer—all at once.
Lucien tilted his face up, the vulnerability in his eyes almost unbearable.
"Touch me," he pleaded softly. "Even if it’s only to shove me away again. Just... touch me, Elian."
A broken sound escaped Elian’s throat. His hand rose as if of its own will and settled against Lucien’s cheek. The heat of his skin, the faint roughness of stubble, the way Lucien immediately leaned into the touch like a man starving—
Elian’s knees nearly gave out.
Lucien’s uninjured hand came up slowly, carefully, and covered Elian’s, holding it against his face. He turned his head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the center of Elian’s palm, lingering, breathing him in.
"I love you," he whispered against the soft skin. "I love the way you look at me even when you hate me. I love the way your hands still try to be gentle even when you’re furious. I love every stubborn, beautiful, impossible part of you."
Elian’s other hand found Lucien’s hair, fingers sliding into the dark strands. He tugged—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to tilt Lucien’s face higher.
"You’re still an idiot," Elian breathed, voice thick.
"Your idiot," Lucien answered without hesitation.
That was all it took.
Elian sank down onto his knees in front of him, the movement sudden and desperate. Their mouths met in a kiss that was nothing like soft or careful. It was hungry, wet, months of longing and anger and heartbreak pouring out between them.
Lucien groaned into it, the sound vibrating through Elian’s chest as his arms wrapped tightly around the smaller man’s waist, pulling him flush against his body.
Elian straddled Lucien’s thighs without thinking, knees bracketing his hips on the hard floor. The heat of Lucien’s bare skin seared through the thin fabric of Elian’s clothes. Every shift brought them closer—chest to chest, breath to breath. Lucien’s hands slid under the hem of Elian’s shirt, palms spanning the warm curve of his waist, fingertips digging in as if he feared Elian might vanish.
"Stay," Lucien gasped between kisses, lips dragging down the line of Elian’s jaw, teeth grazing the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. "Stay with me tonight. Let me show you. Let me—"
Elian’s answer was a soft, broken moan as he arched into the touch. His fingers mapped the strong lines of Lucien’s shoulders, careful of the bandaged arm, then lower, across the firm planes of his chest, feeling the rapid thud of Lucien’s heart against his palm.
"You’re still bleeding," Elian whispered against his mouth, even as his hips rolled forward in a slow, involuntary grind that made both of them shudder.
Lucien’s laugh was low, breathless, almost feral. "Then stop me from bleeding more by staying right here." His hands slid higher under Elian’s shirt, thumbs brushing the undersides of his ribs, then higher still until he could feel the frantic beat of Elian’s heart. "I’ve waited so long to touch you like this again. To feel you tremble for me."
He kissed him deeper, slower this time—tongue stroking against Elian’s in a wet, deliberate slide that stole the air from both their lungs. Elian’s fingers tangled in Lucien’s hair, holding him close as their bodies pressed tighter, heat building between them until every shift of hips sent sparks racing down their spines.
Outside, the wind howled against the cabin walls. Inside, the fire crackled and the only sounds were the soft, desperate noises they made against each other’s mouths—gasps, half-swallowed moans, the quiet rustle of fabric as clothes were slowly, reverently pushed aside.
Lucien’s lips trailed down Elian’s throat, sucking gently at the pulse point, tasting the salt of tears and the sweetness of skin he had dreamed of for far too long.
"I love you," he breathed against the damp hollow of Elian’s neck. "I love you. I love you."
Each repetition was a vow, pressed into skin with lips and teeth and the careful press of his body.
Elian’s head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure and emotion tangled so tightly he could no longer tell them apart. His hands framed Lucien’s face, pulling him back up into another searing kiss.
"Then prove it," he whispered against Lucien’s mouth, voice raw and trembling and full of everything he was still afraid to say. "Prove it tonight... and every night after."
Lucien’s answer was a low, possessive growl as he rose to his feet in one smooth motion, lifting Elian with him as if he weighed nothing. He carried him the short distance to the large bed, laying him down among the scattered clean cloths and the forgotten bowl, never once breaking the kiss.
The mattress dipped beneath their combined weight. Lucien braced himself on his uninjured arm, body hovering over Elian’s, heat radiating between them. His free hand slid down Elian’s side, slow and worshipful, until their hips aligned perfectly.
"I will," he promised, voice dark with hunger and devotion. "I’ll prove it until you never doubt it again."
And then he kissed him once more—deep, claiming, endless—while the storm outside raged and the fire burned low, and the only world that mattered was the one they were rebuilding between their bodies, one heated breath, one trembling touch, one whispered "I love you" at a time.