The room's so dark that the blackness feels tangible. It gathers and swells inside Elijah's throat until the boundary between the empty air and the tension itself disappears. The urge to spread his fingers out in front of him and close them around the inky color strikes him hard. He feels stupid in the most self-directed sort of way, here in a warm bed with a warm body just behind him. Stupid because he should've known it would feel like this, being back after so long. After so much activity and distracted focus.

Lying there, listening to the noise of the clock in the hall, shivering at the occasional passing car outside, the tightness in his throat becomes a hot burn behind his eyes. He clamps down on the sensation, willing it away. There have been so many moments in weeks past when crying would've been understandable if not expected. Why does it overwhelm him now? Now that he's in the one place that has always managed to do away with that feeling? Maybe it's the smell of Sean's sheets or the noise of the dog scuffling around downstairs. Maybe it's home. Maybe he should cry.

He tucks his cheek to his pillow and lets the fat, hot tears curl down his cheeks. It's more like a muscle being relaxed than actual crying, so he grips the blanket and tugs it higher against his chest, tearing until he can feel the damp spot on the pillow touch his whole cheek. Calmer, he shies away from the wetness and rolls over, snuffling audibly and burying his face in the soft hair of Sean's chest. His chest aches now but he feels marginally better, especially when he snuggles up to Sean's front and pushes his face into the warm crook of Sean's neck. He exhales there. Sean stirs and Elijah can feel his eyelashes as he groggily opens his eyes.

"Hey." Sean's chin moves. "You okay...?" Even half asleep he manages to ask.

"I love you."

The quiver indicates a silent laugh. "That works."

Elijah continues, softly, mouth squished against Sean's throat, "I do. How long's it been since I said that?"

"I dunno," Sean replies, fully awake now. "I don't need to hear it. You don't need to say it. You know that."

He slips an arm around Sean's back, silently agreeing. Moments pass, with Sean's fingers slowly circling the small of his back.

"Were you crying?" Sean asks, mumbled against the top of his head.

"Mm."

"Better?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

He can feel the slow smile. He wriggles back a little and then dips in for a kiss, one bare foot finding a gap between Sean's calves and lodging there. The kiss turns hot and Elijah closes his eyes and wraps a hand around Sean's hip, pushing their bodies together until Sean breaks the kiss, slightly breathless. The wet, liquid swivel of his eyes are all Elijah can see in the dark, but he knows those pupils are fixed on his. Their breath mingles. Sean's free hand settles over and around his cheek.

"I love you back, you monkey."

Elijah grins into another kiss and shifts his arm up around Sean's neck, pushing until their bodies line up firmly front to front. It feels good to arch his back to get them that way, feels good when Sean gets hot against his thigh.

"Keep me up?" Elijah drawls, firming the length of his leg.

"I'll keep you awake, too, how's that?" Sean laughs, though it's clipped, as Elijah's fingertips draw circles just above the rise of his backside.

And the feeling inside is brightness, Elijah identifies, as Sean's hands quickly stroke him into thorough distraction. Blood red turns orange under the intensity; a branded and unchangeable inner smile that is more home than any combination of roof and walls and floor could ever be.