Work Text:
Elijah thought he understood what it meant to be in pain. He was wrong. The worst pain didn't come from being beaten or losing the only person who’d ever loved you. It came from watching in helpless silence as someone else grieved their loss.
I'm not worthy to touch him. But how could he not in the face of such agony? His arms went around the shaking shoulders, and he listened as the terrible story spilled out- the car accident, the endless wait at the hospital, the funeral, three girls left motherless and a husband bereft.
Why? Why should such a good man, such a kind man- and kindness was that rarest of human virtues, one Elijah had ceased to believe existed- be made to suffer like this? When a mouth reeking of alcohol blindly found his, when bruised, bleeding hands pulled him onto the sofa, no thought of refusal crossed his mind.
So many men had used Elijah for their own selfish purposes, had had him- for a price. Now, he offered his body freely. It was all he had to give.
"Sean." He whispered the name as if he had the right.
The blossoming of hope terrified him.
~end~