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elvis was grateful for everything in his life. he was happy to be able to make millions of people’s lives a little better by singing the music he loved.
but god, he was so lonely.
going back to his hotel room, show after show, it was tiring. he loved performing but coming back to a quiet room after hours of social interaction left him feeling empty. of course, he would occasionally bring a girl to his hotel room but that was never enough for him. the sex was always great, but sometimes he just wanted someone to talk to. the women who came to his room never cared about talking, they just wanted him.
he was having one of those nights. finishing up his final show of the month before flying back to memphis for a few weeks. he planned to leave in the morning so he could get a few hours of sleep before heading out.
you happened to be staying in the same hotel elvis was staying. seeing elvis was a dream come true. it had been an awful week for you but nothing was going to stop you from seeing him, that's for sure. it was a chance for you to forget the real world for a little bit.
oh, but of course something had to go wrong on this day. your stupid, little hotel key wasn’t working. that or the door was stuck.
“well, i sure hope you're not tryin’ to break in my hotel room.” a man said in a strong, accent that sounded awfully too familiar to you. he walked closer to you, taking his glasses off.
you looked up at him, then at the number on the hotel door. stupid, stupid, stupid. it was the wrong room. yours was next door. you had just tried to break into elvis presley’s hotel room. “oh….you're-i….i wasn’t-...it's not what it looks like-” you stammered.
he laughed and pat you on the shoulder. “darlin’, don't even worry about it. i can tell by the look on your face that you got the wrong room.”
“i’m so sorry, elvis. really! it's been a long week, i just wasn't paying attention.”
elvis shook his head,”don't apologize. d’ya need anything?” he asked. you were taken back by the question, even if it was a simple one. how do you even answer that question?
“i don't want to be a burden-”
“definitely not a burden. i can’t sleep after a show anyway.” he unlocked the door to his hotel room, “you did just try to break into my room, it's the least i can do.” he joked.
you wandered into his room, looking around. there were only a few clothing items hanging in the closet and the room seemed as if nobody was staying there, besides the various pill bottles you noticed on the side table. it did smell like him though, in a good way.
“i never leave my room when i’m tourin’ except to perform. that's why there's not much to look at, sorry if you're disappointed.” he chuckled. he placed his glasses on the dresser and slid his shoes off, setting them aside. “make yourself at home! i’m gonna shower and freshen up.” you nodded as you watched him make his way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
you sat on the edge of his bed, still wondering why you were invited into his room. you've read about the girls he brings into his hotel rooms, there was no way that's why he invited you in. you loved elvis, you thought he was very handsome but you weren't that kind of girl. it was definitely tempting to snoop around his room but you had too much respect for the man to do that. his personal business was not yours.
he opened the bathroom door, glancing over to see if you were still there. you turned your head towards him, flashing a small smile at him as he ran a towel through his hair.
“have you just been sitting there? you haven't even taken your shoes off! i promise i don't bite!” he hung his towel up and made his way to pour himself and you a drink. “unless you want me to, of course.” he grinned.
“oh come on, you don't even know my name.” you giggled, slipping your shoes off. he handed you a drink and sat beside you.
“alright then, what's your name?” he asked.
“y/n.”
“lovely name, y/n.” he took a sip from his drink. “so, y/n….”
you turned your body slightly to look him in the eyes. “elvis…i-i hope you know i’m not that kind of girl…y’know that sleeps around. you're a very nice looking man but-”
his eyes widened at you, almost as if he was offended. “woah, wait a minute. who said anything about sleepin’ together?! i was just joking about the biting thing! you said you had a bad week, i thought you might wanna talk about it. is that why you think i invited you in here?” he exclaimed. “i’m not all about sex, y’know!”
ah–now you felt bad, you felt the heat from your cheeks turning red in embarrassment. “oh lord, i’m making a fool of myself tonight.” you muttered, drinking the entire glass he handed to you earlier. you don't even drink often and the liquid burned as it went down your throat but god, after tonight, you didn't care. “look, i’m sorry. apparently my big mouth continues to fail me.” you stood up. “can't keep a job, can't keep my relationships and apparently i can’t even talk to elvis presley!”
he pulled you back down onto the bed next to him. “let’s just start over, sound good?”
you nodded, apologizing again. “i’m sorry. i just–seeing you tonight was amazing. i lost my job last week, just got out of a awful relationship and all my friends have been avoiding me ever since. i was supposed to be here with my best friend but she won't talk to me so i had to come alone and to make things worse, i almost broke into your hotel room.” you sniffled. “i’m a disaster.”
“don't say that.” he frowned. “first of all, if you hadn't tried breaking in here, you wouldn't be talking to me. second, you're not a disaster, don't ever say that about yourself. one bad week doesn't determine your whole life.”
elvis stood up from the bed, walking over to the window showing the night sky over the city. he leaned against the wall, drink in hand while staring out. you couldn't help but stare at his tall figure, dressed in basic black pajamas with his hair still slightly damp from his shower. it was the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.
“i ain’t ever said this to anyone. but my heart is telling me to trust you.” he took a sip from his drink and continued to stare out the window. “do you know how many friends i’ve lost since….” he pointed outside. “all this? all these shows? all people ever want from me is money or expensive shit, nobody ever asks how i’m doin’” he stood there silent for a minute. “i finish a show, hop on a plane, do another show, sit in a hotel room by myself and just rot. that's all i do.”
“but the girls-”
he looked over at you. “the girls?” he scoffed. “gotta do something with all that adrenaline.”
you looked down at your hands, still holding the empty glass that was handed to you earlier. the urge to pour yourself another drink was strong, but you were too nervous to get up from the bed. who would have known that someone who has made such a huge impact in music, was struggling so much? it broke your heart listening to him tell you his troubles, you could tell he had been holding it in for so long.
you looked up at him again. “do you enjoy it?”
“enjoy what?”
“performing.”
he sat in a chair in the corner of the room facing her. he sighed. “i enjoy making people happy.” you stood up and made your way to the spot he was standing in near the window, crossing your arms and looking down at him.
“but are you happy?”
elvis had never really been asked that before. he didn’t know how to answer that question. to be honest, he wasn't unhappy. but he wasn't thrilled about how his life was going either. the colonel refused to let him leave the states, he was very much overworked and exhausted, but no matter how tired or how much pain he was in, he went on to perform a hell of a show for hundreds of people every night. seeing the fans happy is what brought him so much joy.
he sat there in silence, not looking at you, almost as if he was holding back tears. god, he was so overwhelmed. he didn't even know you and he was sitting here, opening up his more vulnerable side to you. “i don't know if i can answer that question.” he murmured.
crouching down in front of him, his tear-filled eyes glanced up at you. “can i hug you, elvis?” he nodded, reaching his breaking point and letting tears fall from his blue eyes. you sat on his thigh and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, giving an awkward, yet comforting side hug. it was nice. the smell of old spice and aftershave giving you a sense of peace.
“thank you.” he whispered. “i’ve been feelin’ so lost, so alone….i have nobody to talk to.”
“do you have a show tomorrow?” he shook his head. “‘m going back to memphis tomorrow.”
you got up from his lap and went over to the desk, reaching for a pen and ripping off part of a small hotel notepad to jot down your number. “if you need anything, and i mean anything…..i want you to call me. if you feel lonely or just need to escape for a bit, call me. i don't care what time it is or what day it is, please reach out to me.” you begged.
he smiled at you. “i may just take you up on that offer.”
a few days passed. there was no sign of elvis, you hadn't received any calls since you saw him that night. it was a little worrying. maybe he didn't like you or maybe he was embarrassed? you tried to not let it bother you.
you were back home in california, spending each day checking the papers for new job listings and trying to keep yourself busy. the only time the phone rang was when your so called best friend finally called you, apologizing and asking about the concert. there was no explanation for them ignoring you for so long so you didn't say a word about the night you had with elvis.
the day was dragging on, it was hot and musty outside and the neighbors upstairs were arguing for the third time that evening. you were sat on the couch staring at the ceiling as a movie played in the background when the phone range. you turned your head towards the phone, almost afraid to answer it. picking it up, you nervously held it to your ear. “..hello?”
“is this y/n?”
your eyes widened. it was him. “elvis?” you gasped.
you could hear a slight chuckle on the other end. “hi darlin’, sorry for not calling. once i got to here, i just slept and uh….” he cleared his throat. “i was embarrassed…about-y’know.”
“not embarrassed enough cause you decided to call me” you joked.
“well, you got me there.” he laughed. “i wasn't feelin’ all that great so, i thought i’d suck it up and finally give you a call. how are you doin’?”
the two of you caught up. it hadn't been that long since you first met but it felt much longer. you rambled on about your friends and not being able to find a job, he rambled on about the colonel booking more dates.
“why don't you come down to memphis?”
“oh elvis, i don't have that kind of money–”
“did you really think i was gonna make you buy your own ticket?” he interrupted. “i can get you on the next flight down here. i just really need to see you.”
you didn't pass up on that offer. the flight was that same night, he had even arranged someone to pick you up and bring you to graceland. none of this felt real to you. you both spent nearly every second together, outside and inside of his home. he opened up to you even more, expressing his feelings about his mom, the colonel and the many friends who used him throughout the years. you told him about your hometown, how you didn't have many friends growing up and the struggle of keeping a job. it was like that for a few weeks.
eventually, people were starting to question his relationship with you. it wouldn't be long before the colonel started getting involved, especially with the new vegas shows coming up.
one morning, you were greeted by jerry, one of the few friends elvis trusted. he gave you a slight smile, wishing you good morning and asking how you've been. “i’ve haven't seen him like that in years, y’know.” he said.
you looked at him, puzzled. “like what?”
“happy.” you opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. “and for once, it's not because of the pills.”
you didn't see him much that day due to him being off recording an album, but you stayed at graceland, thinking about what jerry had said to you earlier. there was no denying it, you had feelings for him and you were positive he felt the same towards you. there was the occasional flirting and hand holding, maybe a few friendly kisses here and there but nothing more. now, it was just a matter of when elvis would confess to you his true feelings.
he returned home later that night, lighting up when he saw you dozing off on the couch. you jolted awake upon hearing the door shut. “hi, doll.” he whispered. “sorry for wakin’ ya.” sitting up, you rubbed at your eyes and got up from the couch. “i didn't mean to fall asleep, how was your day?”
he shrugged. “the usual. ‘m just ready to sleep” he sighed.
you hummed, stretching and wincing at the slight cracks your bones made. “i’ll let you sleep then, see you in the morning?”
“actually,” he took your hands in his, “would you sleep with me tonight?” he asked. his hands were warm against yours, you felt your heart skip a beat. “okay.” you responded, not giving it a second thought.
he took you to his room upstairs, you had been in there several times already but it was different this time. you sat in his bed and waited for him to return from the bathroom as he washed up. looking around, you couldn't help but notice the small bottle of sleeping pills next to him. he had always complained to you about never being able to fall asleep, maybe he just wanted some company tonight.
you watched as he stepped out of the bathroom and into his bed, bracing yourself for the conversation you were about to have with him.
“i-i spoke to jerry this morning.” you mumbled. his eyebrows rose, “oh? was he sayin’ anything bad about me?” you let out a small laugh. “no, no. nothin’ like that.” you stretched your legs out, playing with the hem of his blanket. “he said you've been happy lately.”
“i see.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “he said it was because of me.” you blurted out. elvis’s face turned red, “ah…that man..” he muttered, covering his face with his hands.
you removed his hands away from his face, giggling at him. “c’mon, sweet boy.” his face turned even more red. “don't call me that!” he felt his heart flutter at the pet name.
despite the many love songs he sang almost everyday, it had been awhile since he felt this much love for someone. he was absolutely, madly in love with you despite only knowing you for just a few weeks. your presence filled that emptiness that had been lingering in his heart for so long.
he looked away from you in embarrassment. “you can be honest with me, it's okay.” you squeezed his knee. elvis turned his head back towards you, fiddling with his hands nervously.
“i like you a lot, y/n. you breaking into my hotel room-”
“that was an accident!” you yelled.
“damn, honey! lower your voice!” he yelled back. “i’m trying to confess to you, let me finish! ever since that night, i haven't been able to stop thinkin’ about you. you don't know how bad i needed someone like you in my life…..baby, it gets lonely. i don't feel like that when i’m with you.”
you cupped his face, staring into his eyes lovingly. “can i kiss you?” you asked, softly. “yes, please.”
you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his beautiful, soft lips that you adored so much. he tasted like mint from the toothpaste he used earlier mixed with your cherry chapstick and you wouldn't have it any other way.
you always imagined this day, but never once thought you'd ever get to kiss elvis presley. he always kissed fans during his shows. unfortunately, he missed you at the last show. but now you finally had your time and boy, was it worth the wait.
he pulled you onto his lap, deepening the kiss. you rolled your hips against his, forcing a small groan to escape his lips. the two of you continued for a few minutes till he pulled away, breathless and looking at you, pupils blown and with lust in his eyes. “baby, if we keep goin’, i’m not gonna last long.”
“mmm, i guess we'll have to find out, won't we?” you grinned.