Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/116880.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Actor_RPF
  Relationship:
      Tobey_Maguire/Elijah_Wood
  Character:
      Tobey_Maguire, Elijah_Wood
  Stats:
      Published: 2004-01-15 Words: 5085
****** The New Truth ******
by Sinful_Words_(MontanaHarper)
Summary
     Elijah's confused, but he's pretty sure Tobey's got all the answers.
Notes
     Set in 1996. Do the math. If it squicks you, don't read. Also
     contains a major spoiler for "The Ice Storm," so if you haven't seen
     that...well, a lot of the story probably won't make sense to you,
     either.

     He who wishes to teach us a truth should not tell it to us, but
     simply suggest it with a brief gesture, a gesture which starts an
     ideal trajectory in the air along which we glide until we find
     ourselves at the feet of the new truth.
     —José Ortega y Gasset
When Ang calls "cut," Christina pushes away from him and grins, tucking a lock
of straight, dark hair back behind her left ear.
"Not bad, kid," she says, which Elijah thinks is pretty funny coming from
someone who's not even a whole year older than him. "You could probably use
more practice, though."
And even though he knows she's hardcore flirting with him, it's not at all
difficult to just smile at her and say, "Maybe," before turning to look at Ang
and make sure they're done with the scene.
It's so easy, as a matter of fact, that he's a little worried.
He doesn't have a lot of experience kissing girls—onscreen or off—but he's
pretty sure he's supposed to feel something more than just mildly embarrassed
after a lip-lock like that. Maybe it's just because the cameras were rolling;
he's been acting for so long that he automatically separates the real Elijah
from the characters he plays. At least that's what he tells himself it is,
because he's not sure he wants to think about the other possibilities.
And now Ang's nodding, saying that they've got the take and that they're done
for the night, so just to test his theory, Elijah turns back to Christina.
"Practice?" he asks, giving her his best 'see how adorable I am' grin and
holding his arm out to her like they're in a period drama. She slips her hand
into the crook of his elbow and smiles back.
But once they're alone behind the make-up trailer, his hand up under so many
layers of her costume that there's just a single thickness of lace between his
fingers and her warm and yielding breast, he's finding that the off-screen kiss
isn't much more interesting than the on-screen one had been. And so he
disengages and says, "I'd better go. I'll bet Karin's going fucking nuts
looking for me," then takes off before she can say a word.
She probably thinks he has a crush on her now, but Elijah's not too worried
about that. Maybe it'll even make the rest of their scenes better: She'll be
looking at him, thinking how pathetic he is and it'll fit right in with Wendy
thinking how pathetic Mikey is.
No, he's not too worried about that. What he's worried about is why he
completely failed to react to the kiss. He's fifteen, for chrissakes; he's
supposed to throw a rod at the least provocation, but he hardly felt the
faintest stirring at his brush with second base. And Christina's gorgeous,
funny, and outspoken—all traits that appeal to him—so there's no reason he
shouldn't be in the middle of a serious case of blue balls right now.
Except that he's not.
What he is is so involved in his thoughts that he barrels around the corner of
a trailer and right into Tobey, who's talking on a cell phone.
"Excuse you!" Tobey says with a mock-fierce look, shoving Elijah's shoulder,
and Elijah cracks up.
"Sorry, man."
"Nothing, Leo," Tobey says into the phone. "Just some twerp I'm working with.
I'll call you later."
Elijah crushes the sudden worry that Tobey's actually pissed at him, and sticks
his tongue out. Tobey's got to be teasing him; the two of them have been
getting along great on the set, and it'd take far more than a minor collision
to change that.
Tobey snaps his cell phone shut and falls into step with Elijah. "So what's got
you in such a state?" he asks. Something in Elijah's expression must've given
him away, because Tobey tugs a copy of the day's call sheet out of his back
pocket and unfolds it. Elijah starts to protest that it's nothing, that he was
just in a hurry to get changed and head back to the hotel, but Tobey's
interrupting before he can get the words out.
"Aha! You've been making out with my sister today!" Tobey pokes one accusatory
finger into Elijah's chest, and Elijah is mortified to find that he's blushing.
Tobey stops short, a look of dawning comprehension on his face. "Oh, man, I'm
sorry. I had no idea—"
And this time Elijah manages to get some actual words out, forced past the
embarrassment and confusion. "No, no, it's not like that. It's just...." But he
doesn't know how to go on from there.
Tobey seems to get it, though, because he asks, "You want to get some dinner
and talk about it?" He nods, and Tobey waits while he changes and phones home,
promising his mom that he'll be back at the hotel before curfew.
It's not until they're in Tobey's rental car, heading toward Bonne Nuit that
either of them speaks again.
"So," Tobey says, just loud enough to be heard over the CD, "what's going on?"
And Elijah really wishes he knew the answer to that, because then his problem
would be solved. But he goes with the spirit of Tobey's question and answers,
"Nothing. That's the problem."
He can almost feel Tobey's eyebrows go up at that, and realizes it probably
sounds far more dire then he'd intended. He's not quite sure how to amend the
statement, though, without making it even worse, so he just leaves it alone,
the words seeming to hang in the air between them.
"You've got a thing for Christina?" Tobey ventures after a few minutes.
"No. Again, that's the problem."
"So you're having trouble acting like Mikey has a thing for Charles—er, Wendy,"
Tobey amends quickly, laughing.
"No, we seem to be okay there. I mean, I haven't seen the dailies, but Ang
seems happy."
"You're just a typically angst-ridden teenage boy?" And this time Tobey's
definitely kidding, so Elijah threatens him with a fist that stops just short
of Tobey's right shoulder. "Well, you're gonna have to help me out here, man.
I'm not a mind reader. I have no idea what your damage is."
So as Tobey turns the car into a parking space, Elijah tries to explain. He
details the scripted kiss and the impromptu test kiss and his lack of response
to both, and then waits for some reaction from Tobey. But the silence lengthens
and neither of them moves to get out of the car, and then several things shift
focus in Elijah's memory, like one of those magic eye pictures:
...Tobey talking on the phone to "Leo"...
...rumors that Tobey and Leonardo DiCaprio had been seen making out in the
elevator at an L.A. hotel...
And suddenly Elijah has an almost-irresistible urge to fidget in his seat, but
he knows that will only make things worse. Instead, he turns to Tobey and says,
"I'm not really hungry. Can we go to your place instead?"
He knows how it will sound, and he's not at all sure he's not getting in way
over his head, but being out of his depth has never stopped Elijah before. His
biggest worry—and it seems both infinitely strange and infinitely right—is that
he'll lose the friendship that they've started to cultivate.
And for a moment he thinks he's already wrecked it as he senses Tobey stiffen
in the seat beside him, senses the current of tension in the air, and he
searches for something to say that will make everything better.
"I...I could really use someone to talk to, and I think Bonne Nuit is a little
public for this particular conversation," he finally manages.
The expression on Tobey's face is unreadable, but after a moment he says,
"Yeah. Okay, sure," and throws the car into gear.
Elijah is silent for the duration of the drive, too wrapped up in self-analysis
to try to navigate their conversational minefield at the moment. He needs to
think through a few things before they get to Tobey's room, because that's kind
of the point of no return.
He's beginning to suspect that his subconscious knows a lot more than it's
letting on. He's not entirely sure what the question is, but one of the
possible answers seems to be "gay," and he's just a little nervous about that.
Not nervous about Tobey being gay—if he actually is—but nervous about the
possibility that Elijah is gay, because that requires a complete recalibration
of his worldview.
Somehow, Elijah feels that you're supposed to know you're gay before you reach
fifteen. And if he doesn't know something so integral about himself, what else
is there that he doesn't know?
But that particular neurosis is destined to remain unexplored at the moment
because they're pulling up to the hotel and it's all Elijah can do to keep up
the façade of calm relaxation.
Because he thinks somewhere along the line he may have propositioned Tobey.
And honestly, aside from the virgin jitters, Elijah's not sure that's a bad
thing. Tobey's a reasonably attractive guy, and Elijah's got more in the way of
a hard-on now—without even touching Tobey—than he did when he had his hand up
the front of Christina's sweater.
So he keeps his mouth shut on the way through the lobby and into the elevators,
where he can't help wondering how much truth there is to the rumors about Tobey
and Leo, can't seem to stop picturing them kissing, Tobey pressing Leo against
the back wall of the elevator, fingers threaded into blond hair....
And it's now more than clear to Elijah that there's nothing physically wrong
with him, as his dick is very definitely awake and achingly hard. He
tugs—nonchalantly, he hopes—at the hem of his shirt, willing it to be long
enough to camouflage the bulge in the front of his jeans.
Tobey's not looking at him, and Elijah's not sure if that's good or bad.
They're still moving in the direction of Tobey's room, and he's not sure about
that, either. Except that maybe he is sure—at least about the getting turned on
by guys part—so Tobey has definitely helped with Elijah's problem, and there's
no reason to think he's going to stop being helpful. And by the time Elijah's
got himself talked into accepting that piece of logic, Tobey's sliding his
keycard into the reader and pushing the door open, and then Elijah's telling
himself that he can't back out, because somehow that's easier to accept than
the idea that he doesn't want to back out.
Elijah's barely through the doorway when Tobey turns on him and backs him
against the wall, Elijah's pulse pounding and his dick hard as a rock as Tobey
leans forward. "Why are you here?" he asks softly.
Words don't seem adequate for the situation, so Elijah simply leans forward and
up a little and presses his mouth against Tobey's, hoping his answer is
understood.
For a moment it feels like Tobey is going to relax, deepen the kiss, but then
he pulls away and Elijah is suddenly afraid that he's completely misread the
situation and fucked up royally.
"I thought you wanted to talk," is all Tobey says, backing slowly away, and
it's not as bad as Elijah feared but somehow it's also worse. Because Tobey
doesn't look angry or upset or offended, but he also doesn't look like he feels
like Elijah does—wanting to touch, to kiss, to...well, do whatever it is that
two guys who are hot for each other do. Elijah's a little unclear on that
point, although he's got a pretty good idea of what the actual fucking would
entail, and stuff like blowjobs would be the same, and...he stops himself,
thinking that it's really pretty sad that he's nervous enough to ramble in his
own head. At least he wasn't babbling at Tobey.
Tobey.
Who's still standing there, waiting for an answer, and Elijah's almost
forgotten the question at this point.
"I did. I mean, I do. Want to talk, that is." And way to be smooth, Elwood, he
thinks, irritated that he can't even seem to act like he's not a complete dork.
Unwilling to give up, though, he tries again, just dumping everything out at
once, as straightforward as he can manage. "I'm starting to wonder if I'm gay,
and I'm not really sure...of anything, actually. How to figure it out, what to
do once I know, how to tell my mom...." He shrugs. He's laid it on the line;
the ball is in Tobey's court now.
Tobey's still looking at him, expression unreadable. "So you what? Want advice
from me?" he asks. "Why me?"
And that one's almost too easy to answer. "Because you're older, more
experienced. And you offered." Elijah slips his jacket off and steps further
into the room to drape it over the back of a chair. He figures the more at home
he makes himself, the harder it'll be for Tobey to throw him out.
Because he's kind of hoping to stick around for a while and maybe even try for
another kiss.
And as soon as he thinks that, he's aware of his dick again, hard and pressing
against the zipper of his jeans, and his face heats up. He steps forward,
reaching a hand out to Tobey—though he's not sure what he's reaching for—and
Tobey doesn't move away. He doesn't move closer, either, and Elijah—feeling
like an idiot—finally drops his hand.
"How old are you?" Tobey asks, and the question surprises Elijah, though it
probably shouldn't. He looks young for his age. If he didn't, he wouldn't have
gotten the part of Mikey in the first place.
"Fifteen," he says, then feels the need to add, "Old enough."
Tobey laughs, which is not exactly the reaction Elijah was going for, but it's
better than anger or disgust. Then Tobey says, "Okay. Let's start with your
first question. Why do you think you might be gay? Just because Christina
doesn't turn you on?" And as he's talking, Tobey's moving further into the
suite, shedding his own jacket and dropping down onto the sofa in a loose-
limbed sprawl.
Elijah follows his example, choosing the other end of the sofa over the
armchair for reasons he's not going to examine too closely at the moment.
"Not just Christina. I've never really had a girl get to me. At least not the
way...." And he stops, because it's probably not politic at the moment to
finish that sentence: thoughts of you and Leo making out seem to.
Tobey apparently fills in the blank with something non-offensive but close
enough to the truth, because he grins and says, "That guys do?" And even though
Elijah can tell there's a question mark there, it's not really a question so he
doesn't answer. Instead, he looks Tobey in the eye and gives him his best
smoldering look, which he hopes desperately is good rather than lame because he
hasn't actually practiced it much and so it's something like relief—or maybe
triumph—that he feels when Tobey shifts in his seat in a way that Elijah's
pretty sure is intended to ease the pressure of too-tight jeans.
Taking that as an indication that Tobey probably won't flatten him for it,
Elijah leans over and tries for another kiss, this time going for confident
rather than tentative. The new approach seems to work, because even though
Tobey's hands are flat on Elijah's chest, they're not pushing him away, and
Tobey's lips are parting and it's amazingly better than with Christina, though
he thinks maybe a screen kiss doesn't count anyway since it's much more about
angles and impressions and cheating to the camera than it is about actually
kissing, and then Tobey is pushing him away.
"What?" he asks, knowing that he sounds breathless and maybe a little
desperate, but not really able to stop himself because he's pretty much
kneeling over Tobey at this point and everything about this is too fucking hot
for words.
"You don't know what you're asking for," Tobey says, sounding like he's trying
to convince them both. "You have no idea."
Elijah knows he's got one chance here and he'd better not fuck it up, so he
lets Tobey see the want and need and yes in his eyes, and says, "Then show me."
It must've been the right answer, because Tobey closes his eyes and whispers,
"Fuck," and the sound goes straight to Elijah's dick. Then Tobey's hands are
tangled in the front of Elijah's t-shirt and he's being pulled down against
Tobey, their mouths meeting in a kiss that's actually not so much like a kiss
as it is like full-blown foreplay.
And Elijah thinks he could be all about the foreplay, because Tobey's tongue is
demanding as it explores Elijah's mouth and he can feel Tobey's heartbeat
thudding against his chest in counterpoint to the pounding of his own pulse in
his ears, and this couldn't possibly get better.
Except that Tobey arches up under him, and now he can feel the hard press of
Tobey's dick against his hip and his own hard-on is grinding against Tobey and
it's all so good—too good—that he thinks he can't last and he tries to pull
back, not wanting the experience over quite yet.
"I'm going to—" he gets out before Tobey's kissing him again, one strong hand
splayed across the small of his back, pushing him down as Tobey's hips arch up.
"Go ahead," Tobey says between kisses. "It'll take the edge off and you'll last
longer the second time."
And if the press-grind against his dick hadn't already had him at the edge,
those words would've put him there, but as it is they're the final nudge and
he's coming almost before Tobey's stopped speaking, biting down on his lower
lip to try to keep the volume down.
He'd be embarrassed about having come in his jeans except Tobey's words are
echoing in his mind and he's finally managing to put meaning to them, so he's a
little distracted by the thought that there's going to be more, and more is
definitely a good thing from where Elijah is standing. Lying. Whatever.
And then a totally different thought occurs to him and the words are out of his
mouth before he can stop them, because apparently sex fucks up his ability to
self-censor. "Do you think this counts as losing my virginity? Because I die
tomorrow, and I'd hate to die a virgin," he says.
Which makes Tobey laugh, and it's a nice laugh instead of the 'God you're a
stupid kid' laugh that Elijah had feared, and then Tobey says, "I don't know.
Do you feel like you're not a virgin anymore?"
Elijah actually stops to think about it, taking stock of the sensations that
are still lazily echoing throughout his body, and he decides, "No. Not quite. A
demi-virgin, maybe," and Tobey laughs again at that and so Elijah smiles.
Then Tobey moves under him and says, "Off, you. I'm too old for this 'making
out on the couch' shit. Especially when there's a perfectly good king-sized bed
in the next room."
And Elijah hasn't actually thought about how old Tobey is, but he can't imagine
there's that much difference between their ages, so he says, "Too old? Over the
hill already?" as he's finding his feet and then his jeans shift and there's
cold, wet, unpleasant mess happening in his boxers and he almost misses Tobey's
answer while he's trying not to flinch or make a face.
"Okay, so maybe twenty-one isn't exactly ancient, but I'm sure as hell not
sixteen anymore, and I haven't been desperate enough to fuck somewhere
uncomfortable in years." Tobey stops talking and Elijah's still on the 'twenty-
one' thing, and he must look disbelieving, because Tobey continues with a
laugh, "Well, okay, maybe a year."
Elijah doesn't correct Tobey's assumption because the age difference—six years!
part of him wants to shout—isn't really that big of a deal. Really.
And it's not like he could take back the last twenty minutes, even if he wanted
to—which he doesn't, because age is so much less important than things like
personality and intelligence, and then Tobey's kissing him again and none of
the other stuff matters because it's all about how hot Tobey is and how much
Elijah wants to feel him without layers of clothes between them and his fingers
are fumbling on the buttons of Tobey's shirt as he tries to unbutton, kiss, and
walk backwards all at the same time.
Somehow they make it to the bed in one piece, but then Tobey pulls back, his
hands covering Elijah's and stilling their movement as he says, "Why don't you
take your shirt and shoes off. I'll be right back," and then he's gone and
Elijah has silence and too much time for thinking, which are a really bad
combination.
Because Elijah tends to worry. A lot.
Not before the fact, which would be sensible and probably keep him out of a lot
of trouble, but when he's in the middle of things, beyond the point of no
return.
Like now.
When he's kicking off his sneakers and tugging his t-shirt over his head,
boxers cold and wet with come, and an older, far more experienced guy in the
next room who's going to be coming back any second and then they're going
to....
Hell, Elijah doesn't even know what they're going to do. Fuck, maybe, which is
a scary goddamn thought. Or maybe just more of what they'd been doing on the
sofa. Or blowjobs. Which is yet another worry, because Elijah's not sure he
could give a blowjob without freaking out and wouldn't that just impress Tobey?
And then Tobey's in the doorway and it's a relief, because Elijah left alone
with his thoughts is much more nervous than Elijah actually facing a
challenge—any challenge.
After all, there'll always be time to panic when he's completely not a virgin.
So he pastes on a grin—number fourteen: confident and cute—stretches his arms
wide, and drops onto the bed like he's falling onto a stunt bag. "One nubile,
virgin teenage boy, no waiting."
There's no sound and no movement from the doorway, so Elijah props himself up
on his elbows and looks at Tobey, who's standing frozen in place, a white hotel
washcloth in one hand and the other on the buttons of his shirt. He looks
somewhere between turned on and horrified, and Elijah realizes he's maybe not
the only one who's a little freaked out about this whole situation, so he says,
"Hey, man, it was a joke. You don't have to do anything you don't want to,"
which is funny because isn't that what Tobey's supposed to be saying to him?
And apparently Tobey sees the irony there, too, because he's moving again, into
the room, and his shirt's unbuttoned all the way now, and he's kneeling over
Elijah, straddling Elijah's thighs, and all the worrying and freaking out are
gone—like it never really happened.
"Exactly," Tobey says as he unbuttons and unzips Elijah's jeans, pausing to
lick at first one and then the other of Elijah's nipples before sliding off the
bed and tugging Elijah's jeans and boxers off in one smooth motion, and Elijah
has to fight not to cover himself because there's naked and then apparently
there's naked.
The latter is obviously defined by the presence of someone else in the room,
someone you're going to be having sex with for the first time, and it's a much
more vulnerable version of naked.
On-screen, Elijah specializes in vulnerable. Off-screen, he doesn't
particularly like the feeling.
"A little overdressed, aren't you, Maguire?" he says, keeping it light but
making sure Tobey gets that he's serious.
And Tobey gets it, because he's sliding his shirt off and reaching for his fly
when Elijah stops him. "Come here," Elijah says, sitting all the way up again
and moving his knees apart just enough that Tobey can stand between them.
Tobey obeys.
Which is truly fucking hot and goes a long way to restoring Elijah's hard-on,
which had disappeared somewhere between the other room and the naked. Because
he can hear the raggedness of Tobey's breathing, and see the fine line of dark
hair that disappears into Tobey's jeans, and he reaches out to undo the top
button, tracing his fingertips lightly under the waistband and smiling when
Tobey gasps.
This isn't so difficult after all.
And he looks up at Tobey, who's looking down at him, lips slightly parted, and
then Tobey's brushing his hair out of his eyes, long fingers winding into
Elijah's hair like Elijah'd imagined Tobey doing to Leo, and the temperature of
the room seems to have suddenly risen by a dozen or so degrees. Eyes closed and
fingers working on the next button of Tobey's jeans, Elijah leans forward and
presses his mouth to the flat of Tobey's stomach, sucking gently and tasting
the faint saltiness of Tobey's skin.
Two more buttons, and Elijah's trailing kisses behind his (miraculously steady)
hands until he's got Tobey's jeans open and the front of Tobey's briefs are
taut against the outline of his dick, which is hard and real and Elijah's a
little bit amazed that it's there for him, there because of him. He traces its
length, fingertips memorizing ridges and curves through the relative safety of
white cotton, taking his cues from the gasp and shudder of Tobey's breathing
and the shivers running across Tobey's skin.
And Elijah's trying not to think of his own dick, which is hard and aching,
because he's never seen another guy's dick this close up and he wants to
remember the first time, wants to be paying attention so he can relive the
experience when he's jerking off, when there's no one around to touch him or
for him to touch.
One small movement is all it takes and the jeans are sliding off his hips and
to the floor, and then Tobey's stepping out of them, kicking them aside, and
Elijah takes a quick, steadying breath before slipping his fingers under the
waistband of the briefs and guiding them carefully down, too, over the hard
length of Tobey's dick and off.
Elijah can feel the tension radiating from Tobey's body, from where his fingers
are still tangled in Elijah's hair, and Elijah knows that Tobey's holding back
from doing something—and he has a pretty good idea of what it is, too. So he
leans forward again, meeting the jutting head of Tobey's dick partway, and
presses a gentle kiss to the slick-smooth skin.
"Ohgod," Tobey whispers, and tugs back on Elijah's hair, pushing Elijah's
shoulder with his free hand so that they end up sprawled on the bed, Tobey
pressed hot along the length of his body, mouth wet and rough and devouring
Elijah's lips and jaw and neck, and Elijah has to fight the bizarre urge to
giggle.
And then Tobey's hand is wrapped around his dick and the only urge Elijah has
is to thrust up, to arch into that touch and force it harderfaster until he
comes all over those long, strong fingers.
"Please," he hears and the voice is his own, and he's surprised that he's
managed to remember how to speak because his brain is melting and his body's
engulfed in tingling tongues of flame that are washing rhythmically over him.
And then Tobey's gone—his hand and his mouth and his body—and Elijah feels like
he's been doused with a bucket of cold water, but before he can react, Tobey's
back, this time straddling Elijah's hips and leaning forward with hands planted
on either side of Elijah's head.
"Elijah?" Tobey's voice is quiet, and Elijah can tell that he's serious.
"Yeah, Tobey?"
Tobey leans further forward, nuzzling Elijah's neck and bringing his mouth up
close to Elijah's ear before whispering, "God, I want you to...do you want...do
you want to fuck me?"
Elijah's dick answers for him, throbbing fiercely at the mere thought of going
all the way, of actually getting to—
And Elijah has to stop thinking about it, because he's too close again and he
doesn't want to come again until he's inside Tobey and—
"Fuck, yes," he says, surprised at how deep and rough his voice sounds, and he
can hear Tobey breathing beside his ear—short, panting breaths that have more
than a little neediness to them—and he's turning his head and seeking out
Tobey's mouth, using his tongue to fuck it, to tell Tobey without words how
much he wants this, needs this.
And then Tobey's sitting back, rolling a condom down over Elijah's dick and
it's all a thousand times more real than before. It's not just fooling around,
but a life-changing decision that Elijah's making and the weight of that
knowledge stuns him for a moment before it's suddenly okay again. It's the
right decision and he knows that on a gut level; it's what he wants, what Tobey
seems to want, and no one's getting hurt.
And with that thought, Elijah's back in the moment, back lying on Tobey's bed
in Tobey's hotel room, and about thirty seconds away from losing his virginity.
But no matter how intent he had been on remembering every instant, every detail
of the experience from the sweat-slick feel of Tobey's skin under his hands to
the unyielding-push-give of Tobey's body resisting and relenting and finally
welcoming, it blurs together in a nearly overwhelming tide of sensations,
leaving him with momentary, sharp flashes of sense-memory—tighthot around his
dick, silkhard thrusting into his fist, simultaneous pulseclench of his balls
and Tobey's dick—and then it's all over and he's trying to catch his breath,
lying on the bed with Tobey beside him, their fingers tangled together.
All he can think of to say is, "Wow," which makes Tobey giggle.
"And that pesky virginity thing?"
"Cured. Completely. I feel downright debauched...in the best possible way, of
course," Elijah answers as Tobey drapes his arm across Elijah's chest.
"Good," Tobey says softly, already sounding half-asleep. "You can die happy
tomorrow."
And Elijah thinks Tobey's probably right.
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