A/N: This is my Christmas/New Years present for my friend Silver. I love you baby. I hope you enjoy it! Btw this is NOT smut! Just some kissing. Although, sexual themes are heavily implied. It's more of a domestic fluff.

IMPORTANT! Amon, and his relationship with Elijah will appear and be more developed in the Book "Hybrid's Protégées", which will be posted soon and is part of my Tender Tragedy Saga This is just a sneak peak. Two people (OCs) I mentioned in this chapter, Niko and Kolga are central to that book too, which is partially about these two OCs getting adopted by the Mikaelsons.

ALSO! Remi Malek as Amon Sayed

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French Quarter, New Orleans. Summer of 1856.

Elijah woke up smiling from his sweet dreams. The night had been long and full of laughter. Not even the unforgiving heat and the sweat sticking to his cheeks could have affected his mood, for Elijah had woken up beside a handsome man who made his heart burn. Quietly raising his head to look around his—usually neatly organized, but now messy—room, Elijah realized he had forgotten to put out the candles before they fell asleep. Now, with the curtains tightly shut, and the almost burned-out candles still insisting on shining their faint light, his room looked rather romantic—or morbid, depending on whether the person inside it enjoyed a vampire's company in their bed. Amon Sayed, fortunately, was always more than happy to share a bed with Elijah.

Smiling as the hot air around him weighed heavily over his chest, Elijah turned to look at Amon, who pretended to sleep peacefully beside the original vampire. Raising himself, Elijah hovered over Amon, placing kisses on his shoulder, then neck, then cheek and at last mouth.

"Good morning, my dear." Elijah said, pulling back to look into Amon's eyes once he kissed him back.

"Fine." Amon said, opening his eyes and pulling Elijah into another kiss. "I'm awake, you handsome rascal."

Elijah laughed, falling back on the bed. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Barely," Amon said as he laid his head on Elijah's shoulder. "Last night... That sure was something…" he smiled, kissing Elijah's hand, which came looking for his. "But you, my good sir, snores like an old elephant..."

Elijah let out a laugh, pressing his lips on the top of Amon's head. "I'm very glad you enjoyed it. I wasn't sure about the band I hired. They were a bit much. But I believe your birthday demanded such a thing." Elijah said, moving to face the man laying with him. "I'm more than happy to begin the adventure again…" he kissed Amon's lips. "Whenever you are ready, my love…"

"Oh, for God's sake, Elijah!" He laughed, kissing back and then pulling away. "Not all of us have the vampire disposition to fuck like bunnies 'til the world ends…" he laughed, laying back on the bed, his face to the wooden ceiling as Elijah moved and began to leave a trail of kisses on Amon's chest.

"Besides…" Amon said with a dramatic sigh, raising his head to glance at down at Elijah. "I'm not as young as I used to be, you know…"

Laughing at his comment, Elijah stopped his trail of kisses, resting his chin on his hands and looking up at Amon. Elijah stayed there, admiring him for a moment. Amon's light blue eyes stared back at him, as though they were made of transparent glass. Elijah always wondered how Amon could look so innocent and mischievous at once; although, if he had to bet on an answer, he would say it had something to do with Amon's eyes, mixed with purposefully messy black hair and larger-than-life smile.

Amon was a powerful French Quarter witch. He had stayed young, looking only thirty years old, for more than a century through the methodical use of his magic. Although he refrained from getting involved in politics, they still considered Amon an elder, even if he magically got ride of most of his white hairs and wrinkles.

But Elijah hated thinking about such things. He knew it was the curse of every vampire, to see the people they met and grew to love, age, and die. Still, Elijah had never had to think of it. So far, none of his attempts at love had been very successful, or lasted more than half a decade. Not to mention all of Elijah's lovers had either been vampires or humans who had no reservations about becoming vampires. Amon had been an exception to both rules. He and Elijah had been together for more than a century; and Amon never allowed his vampire to think about turning him for more than a second.

"I'll curse your entire family and bloodline if you bring this up one more time, my dear." Amon would say when Elijah tried to mention it. His tone was playful, as it often was, regardless of the subject. But his eyes told Elijah he meant it.

"You look very youthful to me, my love." Elijah said, a wide smirk on his face as he tried to swallow the foul taste Amon's words left in his mouth. How could he accept Amon was aging? How could Elijah ever think of a day when he would no longer wake up next to him? It could not be, Elijah often thought. Not when he had gotten so used to it, to the love and safety Amon brought to his life and his heart. Not when Elijah had finally let himself love again.

"You only think so because you are very horny right now, my dear." Amon jested, running his fingers through Elijah's hair. He smiled, already guessing what Elijah had been thinking, and using his jokes and touch to banish away such dreadful thoughts.

Elijah laid beside Amon, laughing loudly into the hot air. With a smile on his lips, his face grew ever so slightly red.

The sex was never Elijah's favorite part about his time with Amon. It was, of course, quite nice, and, like everything he did, Amon had the habit of turning their nights together into unique occasions. He learned early in their courtship that Elijah was never one to have sexual adventures with people he did not care for dearly. To the Original vampire, the best thing about their time together was the quiet moments, the soft kisses, holding each other, their jokes no one else could understand. Amon, of course, knew this, and found messing with Elijah quite amusing. Amon loved to try and make his vampire blush, and Elijah loved to amuse him, letting him try.

Amon also knew that what Elijah truly meant by "begin again" had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with going out for a romantic breakfast. But what fun would it be if they both admitted to know what the other truly meant? It was all about their little rituals, their dance of snarky comments, kisses and blushing.

"I do believe," Elijah sat up on the bed to look at Amon. "We could start the evening again." He took Amon's hand, kissing it slowly. "Go out for dinner with me again, my love…"

"It's a bit early for dinner, my love." Amon chuckled, siting up. With a flick of his hand, he opened the curtains, letting the sweet sunlight drown the room.

"Oh," Elijah sighed, a smile on his lips. He leaned with his back against Amon's chest. "Perhaps we can go out for breakfast, then?" he said, as Amon wrapped his thin arms around him.

"Perhaps…" he whispered playfully at Elijah's ear, making the vampire shiver.

"We should go before Niklaus wakes up and decides to pester me about something…" Elijah said, sighing as he kissed Amon's hand; his eyes glancing out of the window.

"I thought you liked when your siblings pestered you, my dear." He said, smirking against Elijah's skin as he placed a kiss on his shoulder. "Isn't it your birthright as an older brother to be pestered by your annoying younger siblings?" Moving his hand again, Amon put the dying candles out of their misery and allowing the sunlight to reign supreme in the room.

Elijah laughed, freeing himself from Amon's embrace.

"It is." He said, turning to Amon. "But not today…" he sighed, running his fingers through the witch's hair. "Today I wish to spend every second with my beloved…" he smiled, leaning in to make their noses touch. "Especially now that it has come to my attention you are a dying old man, my love…" he joked, pretending the words didn't burn his tongue.

Seeing Amon laugh, Elijah finally closed the distance between them.

"So," Elijah broke off the kiss. "Amon Sayed, would you give me the honor of spending the day with me?"

Amon frowned, smirking as he pretended to think about the matter. Sensing his lover's fake doubt, Elijah softly ran his fingers over Amon's shoulders, tickling him.

"Alright, you handsome Devil." Amon laughed, running his fingers through Elijah's hair. "Yes, I shall give you the pleasure of my company… ." He said, placing a kiss on Elijah's lips before sliding out of bed.

"But only for today!" he added, turning back to Elijah, an almost serious look in his eyes. "The last thing I need is your madman of a brother hunting me down for sport because I made you late for your satanic family dinner!"

Elijah laughed, watching him leave the bed to get dressed.

Amon always walked slowly when he got dressed in front of Elijah. Some days he would throw a snarky comment at hisvampire—the way he liked to all Elijah—such as: "Didn't your mother teach you is rude to stare, Mr. Mikaelson?"

Elijah always laughed, but his cheeks burned red and his heart burned even brighter.

In other days, Amon would simply allow Elijah to watch him, dressing slowly, as though putting on each piece of clothing was painful as death, and should be mourned as such. Then, he would glance back at Elijah, a grin on his ever so playful lips.

But to Elijah, it was no game. With every bit of his soul, he adored Amon; and his adoration grew with every year they spent together, in their little cycle of dressing and undressing.

Yet he could not call it love. Elijah could not dare. Not with a man like Amon, with a spirit so free even the birds envied him. No. Love would be a prison, a restraint to someone like Amon.

Not to mention love would be a gamble with the highest stakes to someone like Elijah.

He was not ready to lose his heart again. Some days, Elijah believed he would never be ready for such a thing again.

Fortunately, Amon had a funny way of proving Elijah to be wrong.

With Amon so close by, humming his old melodies as he picked what shirt to wear, Elijah could not focus. His mind had no place for his fears...He could only see Amon.

Leaning against the bed frame, Elijah sighed, remembering the first time he ever saw Amon.

The Mikaelsons had been in New Orleans for a few years then, and while Elijah worked himself to exhaustion trying to break a peace treaty between the wolves, witches and growing vampire community. Peace, Elijah always thought, was necessary for them to build a home there; and a home was the only thing he thought could convince Niklaus to allow their brothers, sister and even himself more freedom.

But Klaus, of course, was doing everything in his power to ensure the reign of chaos in their new home. Chaos, it seemed, had become something of a specialty of Klaus, and he cared not what happened as consequences to his actions. Elijah wondered if his brother's even more reckless behavior had something to do with their last meeting with Mikael. Although Elijah had hoped the stray children (Kolga and Niko) they had more or less adopted, as their younger siblings would help keep Klaus in check. Sometimes his hopes seemed useless. Perhaps, Elijah often thought, only Mikael himself could talk Klaus out of the reckless madness he had thrown his son into.

There were days—when Elijah was bursting with hope for his family or drowning in despair for their souls—he would think of his father. In days of peace, when Niklaus' recklessness threatened to be their ruin, Elijah would silently pray for Mikael to find them. He did not pray for the monstrous Mikael, the one who hunted them down, of course not. Elijah prayed for the version of his father he remembered from his youth. The Mikael who would dangle off a cliff's edge to rescue his reckless sons when they had gotten into trouble. That was the man Elijah always prayed to see when he wandered through the busy streets of New Orleans. In days of chaos and danger, when Niklaus' pain was obvious, Elijah would pray even more to his father, hoping Klaus was the one to find Mikael, their loving father, while he was strolling around their house. Perhaps Mikael was the only one who could heal them, just as he had done so many times when they were children...

But what has praying ever done for the hopeless? Most days, Elijah was hopeless, running blindly to put our fires his siblings had started. Maybe he would have done so for the rest of his life—too guilty to be happy, too proud to ask for help and too stubborn to give up on the ones he loved; just like his father. Elijah would have been stuck in his eternal cycle of being a mere spectator to his own unhappiness if Amon had not crossed his path.

Regardless of the Mikaelson's drama, however, Amon came into Elijah's life, like seashells come to the shore and leaves fall to the ground, softly and surely.

The year was 1738. The season was spring. And the reason, well, the reason was that Niklaus had just done something his older specifically told him not to do.

So Elijah sat alone at a café, brooding over his siblings' antics, wondering how he could have enough stability—or any stability, really—that he could try again to convince Klaus to take off the daggers in his siblings' chests.

While Elijah was lost in thought, Amon sat across the table from him. His blue eyes studied the vampire, while his quick hands played with a deck of cards.

"You look very sad for such a handsome man." Amon said, grinning with his gaze fixed on Elijah. "Would allow me to see your future then," he smiled, nodding to the cards, "Monsieur... Forgive me, what is your name again?"

"Elijah...Elijah Mikaelson." he said, staring at Amon, the slightest redness in his cheeks. Pushing down his surprise, Elijah reached forward, picking the cards which held his future.

He was never the man to blush. But then again, he was not used to being approached in such a sincere manner. Perhaps it was the curious way Amon looked at him, not quite knowing who Elijah was, but also appearing to know everything about him. He put little thought into it. If there was a voice—the voice of reason, perhaps—telling Elijah to mistrust the man sitting in front of him, Elijah ignored it like it was the voice of death itself. Perhaps it was all Amon's smile. It had the magical power to banish all fearful thoughts from Elijah's mind even then.

"Well, Monsieur Elijah," Amon said slowly, as though Elijah's name was something sweet he wanted to savor. "I can see you will have a very happy future..." he said, at Elijah, his flirtatious grin turning into a kind smile. The cards told him something, details about Elijah's pain, his tragedies, his fears.

"Is that so?" Elijah said, swallowing his disbelief and doubts about fortune telling and smiling back at Amon. He held Elijah's gaze with a kind of understanding which made the vampire shiver.

Back then, if Elijah had thought about their first encounter as a trap, he would probably have chosen to walk into it, anyway. For what monster doesn't like a pretty trap to make it feel loved and safe? Elijah was not supposed to lose his heart in the trap. If he had been smarter, he would not have. But when has caution ever a monster any good? Is it not the pain of a doomed love, the sweetness of a kiss it knows will turn into a bitter memory, the only things a vampire can hope to make it feeling human, to feel alive?

"Oh! And lucky you, Monsieur Mikaelson!" he said, faking surprise as he looked up at Elijah with his playful smile on his lips. "You shall have a beautiful man to keep you company too..."

Amon never read Elijah's fortune again. He had been so terribly right the first time around. There was no need to show off. Besides, Elijah Mikaelson was too afraid to ruin Amon's first prediction for his "happy future".

"Leave the future to the gods, children." Mikael used to say when his children wanted to learn fortune telling. Kol and Rebekah were desperate to learn it—although Niklaus was oddly interested in it, too. Mikael rarely said no to his children's wishes, but when he did, there was no way around it. Not to mention that Elijah always thought a dark light drowned his father's eyes when talked about such matters.

"It's best not to know. It's always best not to know." Mikael would say, and Elijah always thought he sounded like a man who knew all too well what the weight of knowing their destiny could do to a person.

"Once you know your future, you can never be free of it." Elijah heard Mikael ramble once, after he had come home terribly wounded from a hunt, and Klaus asked him again about learning the arts of seeing the future. "Fate is already a cursed and a prison. There is no need to lock the door of your cell sooner, and by yourself. Destiny will do it for you soon enough."

If Elijah had not been sitting comfortably in his bed, with the sunlight warming his skin and the soft noises Amon made while dressing; if he had not been so peaceful in that moment he would have wondered... Did Mikael know, when they were young still, that some day he would be the monster haunting his children's nightmares? And if he knew... Did Mikael shower his children with so much love when they were young because he knew someday the only good thing they would have left of him was the memory of his undying love for them?

Elijah never really wanted to ask such questions. Not yet, at least. And fortunately, he did not have to. There were better things to do and better thoughts to think.

"Whenever you are done brooding, dear," Amon said, tapping his walking stick on the floor to catch Elijah's attention. "You'd be pleased to know I'm ready."

Elijah stared at Amon, his colorful clothes, his smile, his dark hair pushed back...

"You're breathtaking, my love." he said, and meant it. "Truly exquisite... " Elijah sighed, smiling as Amon turned around to show off. "I..." he opened his mouth, but closed in a hurry, pretending the words I love you were not burning his tongue. They had never said such a thing to one another. Well, not with words, at least.

"Oh, thank you, dear, I know." Amon chuckled, smirking as he leaned in to kiss Elijah's lips. "Now, will you be wearing something other than our sheets? Or do you intend to go for breakfast wearing nothing at all?" he joked, carving a laugh out of Elijah. "I truly like both ideas... But I believe neither option is very practical..."

Elijah laughed, "I shall put on some proper clothes then." He jumped up, wrapping his arms around Amon's waist and pulling him into a long kiss.

"Don't dress too proper, though, my dear." Amon said, sitting on the bed and watching Elijah get dressed.

Chuckling, Elijah pulled a clean white shirt from his cabinet. After putting it on, he threw a glance around his messy room. To anyone who asked, Elijah was to organizer in the family, the one who could control chaos with gentle and firm hands. The brother who preached order and harmony, peace and aggression only when it was due and inevitable. He was still such a man, still too gentle to make his orderly manner hollow, and still too afraid to let his inner chaos run free and loud.

Elijah would never be selfish. He could never choose his happiness over his family. But Amon was too smart to ever give him such a choice. He had a strange strategy to always stay in Klaus' and Rebekah's good side, which consisted of making Elijah happy, but never stealing him for too long, while also pretended their relationship was only a fling. A 118-year-old fling, but still it was better to be safe than sorry, so Elijah played along.

Yet, there was something exciting and sweetly romantic about whispering to himself as he got dressed; "I love him. He loves me. I love him..." Neither he nor Amon would say so, not yet. But does love really need words when it has everything else?

"Shall we?" Elijah said once he was dressed, taking Amon's hand and kissing it.

Feeling his fingers intertwined with his, Elijah sighed, washing away all his sorrowful thoughts and doomsday questions.

When Destiny came tearing down the door to his heart, Elijah Mikaelson would know. He would fight and he would lose. But, he had decided after the first time he kissed Amon, he would not worry about his future.

"Fate will come when it comes." Elijah could hear his father's kindest voice echoing in his mind as they strolled through the city. "You will not be ready either way. So go and live. Go and love. It will be all you have left..."

If Mikael had ever been right about anything in his life, Elijah prayed he was right about this.

The future was not set in stone. His family was not lost. They were not hopeless. His love for Amon was not doomed...

Not yet, at least.

*

A/N: It's my first time writing Elijah in depth, so Tell me what you think! Also i hope you enjoyed it! Vote, comment and all that jazz. Merry Christmas!