Strangers | Elias × Julian | Julian Top | Elias Bottom | One Night Stand
{{{Elias is soft-spoken, kind-hearted—and completely out of place at the nightclub his friends dragged him to. Julian is bold, beautiful, and broken in all the same places. Both were forced into an arranged marriage neither asked for… until one night, two strangers with matching wounds collide under flashing lights, unaware they're already destined to belong to each other.}}}
Elias had never been to a place like this before.
The lights were too low. The bass too deep. People pressed too close. But he wasn't here to belong. He was here to run.
From the headline on his father's phone:
"Engagement confirmed—Elias Hawthorne to marry heir of the Whitaker Group."
From the "friends" who dragged him to the club and vanished the second he wasn't fun anymore.
From the panic in his chest when he realized he didn't even know what he wanted.
So he stood there in the corner—hot, flushed, a drink untouched in his hand. Stupidly gorgeous in an unintentional way: messy black hair, tight sleeves hugging nervous biceps, eyes too soft for this place.
And then—he saw him.
Julian.
Sharp features. A smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. Black silk shirt open halfway down his chest. Fingers twirling a ring like he wanted someone to dare him to do something reckless.
He'd had a fight. A loud one. Slamming doors and threats of disinheritance. His father tried to announce his marriage without asking—and Julian responded by showing up here and choosing chaos.
His gaze landed on Elias.
Not the flashiest. Not the boldest. But… vulnerable. Unsteady. Someone trying to hold himself together with invisible thread.
And something in Julian softened.
But only a little.
He stalked over, leaned close, and whispered:
"You look like you need to forget someone."
Elias blinked. Swallowed. "I… I don't think I belong here."
"I'll make it easy," Julian said. "One night. No names. Just heat."
Elias hesitated.
Then nodded.
They barely made it to the suite upstairs. The door slammed shut behind them, and Julian pushed Elias against it, kissing him hard. Elias gasped—wide-eyed, overwhelmed—but clung back like he was drowning.
Elias gasped into the kiss—lips parting, breath stolen, brain short-circuiting.
Julian tasted like spice and smoke, like danger wrapped in silk. His hands were already on Elias's waist, sliding up beneath his shirt like he owned him. Elias clung tighter, chest heaving, unsure if he was supposed to pull back or fall harder.
"Fuck," Julian growled against his lips. "You're so soft. What are you doing in a place like this dressed like temptation?"
"I-I wasn't—" Elias tried, but Julian silenced him with a bite to his lower lip. Not hard, just enough to make Elias moan.
"You talk too much," Julian muttered. "Take off your shirt."
Elias blinked. Hesitated.
So Julian helped.
He grabbed the hem and yanked it up, baring smooth skin and toned abs. Elias's breath caught—more from the way Julian was looking at him than the cool air.
"God," Julian said, voice hoarse, "you're prettier than anyone in that fucking club. And you act like you don't know it."
"I d-don't," Elias stammered, face burning.
"Even better," Julian smirked.
He shoved Elias backward toward the bed, watching him stumble and fall onto the mattress with wide eyes and parted lips. Julian followed, crawling up like a predator, straddling his hips and grinding down—slow, hard, enough to make Elias gasp again and grab the sheets.
"I haven't even touched your cock," Julian whispered, brushing his nose along Elias's cheek. "And you're already shaking."
Elias swallowed hard. "I-I've never done this."
"Good," Julian said, voice like a promise. "I'll teach you how to beg."
His fingers made quick work of Elias's belt, tugging his pants open, dragging them down just enough to reveal the twitching bulge beneath. He didn't pull them off completely. Instead, he leaned down and mouthed along the waistband, lips brushing just enough to make Elias jolt.
"Sensitive?" Julian asked, smirking against skin.
Elias nodded, breathless. "Y-yeah."
"Perfect."
Julian licked a slow stripe up his length through the fabric—watching Elias squirm, hands now gripping the sheets like lifelines.
When Julian finally freed him, Elias nearly sobbed.
His cock sprang up, flushed and leaking, and Julian just stared for a moment, thumb teasing the slit.
Elias's thighs trembled. "P-please…"
"Beg prettier than that."
"I… I want your mouth," Elias whimpered, barely audible. "Please."
And then Julian wrapped his lips around him—all at once, deep and warm and devastating.
Elias cried out—hips jerking before Julian pinned them down.
"Stay still," he ordered, mouth full. "Or I'll stop."
Elias bit his fist, nodding frantically as Julian sucked deeper, bobbing with filthy skill—tongue swirling, lips tight, throat relaxing as he took him over and over until Elias's toes curled and his chest heaved like he was drowning in pleasure.
"I'm gonna—!"
Julian pulled off with a pop, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes wild.
"No," he said. "Not yet."
He shoved Elias onto his stomach and dragged his pants the rest of the way off, leaving him bare and trembling. Then Julian stripped too—shirt gone, pants kicked aside, body lean and sculpted and flushed with want.
Elias turned his head, eyes wide. "Wait… I don't know if I—"
Julian kissed between his shoulder blades. "I'll prep you. I'm not a monster."
He slicked his fingers, pressed one slowly inside—watching Elias's back arch, breath catch, thighs tense. But he didn't rush. He went slow, adding a second, stretching him gently while murmuring praise into his skin.
"You're doing so good," Julian whispered. "God, you're tight. Your body's gonna remember me for days."
Elias's face burned. "Y-you're not making it easy to forget you."
"Good," Julian growled.
When he was sure Elias was ready, he lined up—cock hard, pulsing—and pushed in.
Elias moaned—loud, broken, overwhelmed.
The stretch was sharp, deep, perfect. Julian held still for a moment, letting Elias breathe, kissing his neck while their bodies adjusted.
Then he pulled back—and slammed in.
Elias screamed, muffling it in the pillow.
"Louder," Julian hissed, thrusting harder. "Let them hear how good I'm fucking you."
Elias couldn't speak. Could barely breathe. He clawed at the sheets, body bouncing with each thrust, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes from the intensity.
But he didn't want it to stop.
He needed it.
Julian kept going—rough, deep, relentless. He gripped Elias's hips so tight they'd bruise, slamming into him with a rhythm that made Elias see stars.
"You like being used?" Julian growled, leaning down, biting his shoulder. "Is this what you needed tonight?"
"Yes—please, please don't stop!"
Elias was unraveling—body trembling, cock leaking untouched beneath him.
And when Julian reached around and stroked him hard, fast—Elias shattered.
He came with a cry, full-body convulsing, hot release spilling over his stomach.
Julian followed, thrusts losing rhythm before he buried himself deep and came inside with a raw, low moan.
They collapsed together, bodies slick, hearts racing.
Elias blinked up at the ceiling, dazed and breathless.
Julian kissed his neck.
They lay there in silence, skin sticky, breath ragged. Julian watched Elias fall asleep.
Elias was gone when Julian woke.
Only the faintest trace of his scent remained on the sheets.
No note. No name.
Just a black business card beside the bed:
Elias Hawthorne
Executive VP, Hawthorne Group
"Let this be enough."
Julian stared at the name. At the company.
At the name from his arranged marriage contract.
"…Holy shit."
Days later, at a very formal engagement brunch, Julian walked into the suite meant for private introductions—and there he was.
Elias.
Suit sharp. Eyes wide. Jaw slightly dropped.
"You—" Elias started.
Julian stepped closer, grin slow and deadly.
"You ran."
Elias flushed. "I thought it was just one night."
"And now," Julian said, voice dropping,
"we've got a lifetime."