#garreli

Garrett’s keeping his swimming trunks on, sure, but there’s still miles and miles of skin and muscle just tantalizing Eli, and then Garrett is wet and his hair hangs on his forehead in a way that makes Eli want to just wreck him.

He turns off the camera and walks out of the RV for the actually-showering part, the part where Garrett drops his shorts. For the next ten minutes Eli can’t focus on anything but the fact that on the other side of that too-thin wall, Garrett is naked.

And, like, they’ve worked together for a long time, they’re traveling together, and Eli has always had a bit of a crush – he’s just so tall! – but he’s never been this enthralled by him. But like, the combination of being alone together, seeing him all wet, knowing he’s naked – it’s all just coming together to fuck Eli up.

Garrett peeks his head out. “Hey man, I’m ready.”

For a second Eli completely forgets what this is about – he’s also very much ready, for about anything Garrett would agree to – but he realizes Garrett’s talking about filming his end of day thoughts.

“I’ll be right in,” Eli says, wondering if it’s obvious he’s got a raging boner down his pants.

When he walks back in, Garrett is perched in his bunk in nothing but a soft-looking grey tee and a pair of boxer shorts. He’s looking at his phone, casually leaning on his side, water dripping from his hair in rivulets down his neck, glasses on.

Eli tries not to show that this sight makes his heart stop for half a second and busies himself setting up his tripod.

He presses record, and Garrett starts talking about his day and his friendship with Niki. Eli doesn’t have a lot to do since it’s a still shot, so he gets lost watching Garrett.

Everything about this feels intimate – the dim light, Garrett’s soft appearance, the fact that he’s baring his heart – everything except that there’s a camera between them and they’re just doing their jobs.

Garrett trails off – he nods at the camera, a soft “cut” on his lips, but doesn’t move.

Eli turns off the camera, as gently, as quietly as he can – some kind of spell has been woven here and if he plays his cards right, he might get what he wants.

He walks up to Garrett’s bunk, slowly, every move carefully calculated not to spook him.

He doesn’t know what to say – every line that comes to mind feels forced, awkward, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Garrett still doesn’t move, his whole body turned towards Eli, his chest heaving with every breath, with every step Eli take, until they’re face to face, separated only by a few inches of mattress.

Eli can’t help but notice the bunk is the exact right height for him to lean over and kiss Garrett. Or blow him, his dirty mind thinks and he tries hard not to blush.

“Hi,” Garrett breathes out quietly, and this is the first time Eli allows himself to believe this was not all in his head.

Garrett takes a deep breath and his chest heaves in a way that makes it look like he’s getting closer and that’s the push Eli needed to fist a hand through that soft grey t-shirt.

Garrett’s hand closes around his, gaze staring deep into Eli’s.

Eli’s breath stutters in his throat and his entire mind says fuck it.

He pulls Garrett in by his shirt, and their lips meet finally, warm and a bit frantic.

Garrett’s hand finds the back of Eli’s neck, pressing just hard enough to keep him close, and the possessiveness of it makes Eli’s knees wobble.

He breaks the kiss, teeth pulling at Garrett’s bottom lip. A single thought crowds his mind and he has to voice it.

“Can I blow you?”

Garrett chuckles. “I mean, be my guest.”

Garrett kicks off his boxers and sits up in the bunk, legs dangling off it on either side of Eli’s head. It’s a tight fit and he has to keep his neck crooked, but Eli guesses that’s a small price to pay to get your dick sucked.

It’s everything Eli had hoped. Garrett makes little whiney moans in the back of his throat, fingers stuttering on Eli’s neck, and it drives Eli out of his mind – he starts palming himself through his jeans: this is all too much.

At some point Garrett falls back on the bed, arms thrown across his face, struggling not to buck up in Eli’s mouth.

Eli knows this is the final stretch and gives it all he’s got. He hears a soft click but doesn’t think much of it – he’s in the zone, frantically rutting against his own palm.

They climax with twin growls. Eli rests his cheek against Garrett’s thigh, panting. Garrett sits up but freeze.

“Hand the tissues, will you?”

Eli turns around so quick he almost gets whiplash. TJ’s leaning against the door, in a similar sticky situation to what’s happening in Eli’s pants.

“Don’t worry, Niki’s still outside. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Garrett’s hands slide over Eli’s shoulders. He sounds mischievous when he says: “Maybe next time he can join us.”

Eli’s brain just about melts down.