Chapter Text
Your friend texted you on the morning Lin got back to New York. She'd threatened to fly out and camp in your new place if things went badly, and to fly out next week however it went. You had to tell her you hadn't worked up the nerve to do anything yet. Her subsequent pep talk was stirring, but you were still terrified.
This was it.
Lin was back in his apartment, and here you were in yours. Both places were near A Train stops, and your work was only one stop north on it. Harlem was a fantastic fit for you, at least until you got to know the city better. You'd spent two weeks unpacking, hanging pictures and making this your home. You'd sold your L.A. house. You'd taken over at your office. You'd been very careful about video and photo backgrounds when sending them to Lin. You'd dressed to meet him.
Now you had to tell this man that you'd secretly moved practically next door.
He knew you were coming today, he just thought you were on a plane. He was expecting to meet you at the airport in four hours. This was honestly truly it, confession time. You met your own eyes in the mirror on the way out, wishing one of you had some words of courage. Nope.
Four stops south on the A Train. Walking to his apartment. The doorman letting you in because he knew you. His elevator. His door. Your heart.
Lin opened the door to your knock, and saw you leaning against the frame on one raised arm, looking up from lowered lashes, mirroring the pose he'd surprised you with three weeks ago. You'd hoped it would make him laugh, but he just stared a moment, in shock.
"You're here! Why are you here? What... you're here!" He took you in his arms on the last word. You nestled in gratefully, but still full of dread. He kissed your head, then your lips, but pulled back to look at you with those eyes. He'd noticed your tension.
"Is something wrong?" You shook your head, and stood your ground when he tried to lead you inside by the hand. "What happened?"
"I want to take you somewhere. It's okay, nothing's wrong. I just want to ..take you somewhere."
He let go to quickly pull on shoes and hoodie, his eyes rarely leaving your face. It was uncanny, the focus he had when he looked at a person. You smiled, tried to relax, not act like this was a big deal. You'd played this scenario over in your head a million times, and honestly, he was probably going to be happy, right? It just felt a little like a betrayal. You'd shared so much with him in the past two months. This was a really big thing to deliberately leave out.
His eyes still on yours, face concerned, he closed his door and started down the hall with you.
"You're sure nothing's wrong? And how are you here, early? I thought you were still over Las Vegas or something."
"I came early, it's a surprise." You smiled but he still wasn't buying it. "Consider it a game."
That quelled his worry considerably, but he was still mystified and curious. Every feeling this man had showed on his face. You needed to reassure him and yourself both. In the elevator, you put your arms around him for a kiss. You relaxed your hips against his in a way that felt very familiar to both of you. His hands roamed lower, and that heat started inside of you. It seemed like you'd never get enough of him.
"We didn't roll any dice, you're cheating," he said huskily, his mouth traveling towards your neck. The elevator ride was far too short to both kiss and answer him.
He followed you gamely to the subway. A game, was it? It didn't feel like one. It felt deadly serious. You had to lighten this up somehow. You took off the jacket you wished you hadn't worn, the muggy New York air unfamiliar to you. When you took seats on the train, you put it in his lap, leaving your hand under it. It wouldn't fool any onlookers, but in this city no one would look. Boundaries in public were solid, and they'd all seen crazier things. You still tried to be circumspect as you moved your hand slowly over his growing erection.
Inhaling quietly, he lifted his hands and pulled his hood over his head, then tightened the drawstrings until you could barely see his eyes.
"Are you going to make me have sex on the subway?" He turned to look at you, but all you could see was mustache and that beautiful mouth. "I might just do it, bruja." You laughed, amused at his guess.
"Spanish already? That doesn't usually start until much later." You punctuated the final words with gentle squeezes. He pulled his hoodie strings tighter.
"Ten cuidado," he said warningly. "No te he cojido en mucho tiempo."
"I've been learning a little Spanish lately." He released the hoodie strings so he could see you, eyebrows raising. You continued to stroke him, lightly, with your nails. "I still suck at it, but I'm trying."
"You are trying," he said. "Trying my patience." His smirk was the most charming thing you'd seen in weeks. "I'm going to have to stand up, you know."
"And soon. We're only going four stops... no subway sex, don't worry." He shifted his weight under your hand, putting one arm around your shoulders, his hand casually brushing at as much of your breast as he could reach. You could see him working that mind of his, probably trying to evaluate what was near the stop coming up.
You gave him time to recover before your stop, though he continued to paw at you like a teenager when he thought he could get away with it. Your body was buzzing with excitement, while your head kept trying to sound an alarm. Every nerve you had was singing something conflicting.
Your stop.
He held your hand out onto the street, carrying your jacket. He'd let the hood fall back, and the sight of him in full daylight, in person, in front of you, suddenly hit you. He was going to be happy about this, right? You weren't in danger of losing this, losing him, were you?
"Hey." His dark eyes were focused on yours again. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"
You couldn't keep it up. Your door was a half a block away. The worry was winning.
"I... just.. just come look." He walked down the block with you, concerned. Your steps. Your door.
You reached to punch in your door code as he craned his neck to look at the building, see what it was. Just an ordinary brownstone. He followed you inside.
The entrance hallway was dark but led to the bright living room. He stopped halfway through it, though.
"This is your painting." He was looking at a large canvas you'd hung, which had once hung in your L.A. hallway. He turned his face to you, starting to look very surprised. This was it.
"In here." He stalked behind you into the living room, every line of him alert.
"These are your things. This is your room." He ran both hands through his hair, standing it up. "You live here." You nodded.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" He literally danced in a circle looking at the room, then grabbed you by the waist, picking you up with a gleeful laugh. His face was beaming. "My girlfriend lives four stops away?" The relief at his happiness was making you tear up, but you still hadn't told him about the deception.
"I'm sorry I kept it a secret," you said, tears threatening to fall. No, actually falling, dammit. He kissed you, then your tears, still holding you up. He then let you slide down, realizing you weren't sharing his happiness.
"This is the best surprise I ever got! Are you... worried? What is it?"
It all spilled out of you.
"I'm directing our New York branch. I got the job before all of this, with you, and I knew I was moving here but we weren't dating then and I didn't want to change things, then you changed things, and I still didn't tell you, and it got weird that I hadn't, and I've been hiding it for two months, and..." You gulped. "I'm sorry."
He shook his head, eyebrows raised, still smiling. "Jesus... I can see you whenever I want. There is nothing–" He reached for you, running his hands up your arms. "–nothing nothing to be sorry for." You clutched at him in relief. Your Lin-Manuel. He wasn't mad. He was still yours.
He pulled at your hands impatiently. "Show me everything. Tell me everything." You half laughed, half cried. He was always asking that of you, and there was so much to tell him. You'd never realized how much you had to tell until he asked.
"Show me the bedroom," he grinned. "It's still been three weeks and I've been thinking about you every minute of them." You couldn't help laughing through the damn tears. And so you led him into the bedroom.
He'd slept in this bed before, on a different coast. He knew it and knew you, and there was no frantic wrestling this time. You scooted onto the bed, watching him pause beside it to pull off his hoodie and shirt. He sat beside you, reaching to undo buttons at your neck, but didn't find any. His hand trailed sweetly around your neck, searching for a zipper, then he pulled back a minute, looking at your outfit.
"Is that... are you wearing a goddamn jumpsuit?" You burst out laughing. Getting clothes off easily hadn't been on your radar this morning. "Why are your clothes always so damned hard to get off?" You reached behind your back to undo the waist tie, and he leaned over you, both hands behind you to undo your zipper. With cooperation, you quickly divested everything you were both wearing, and he claimed his place beside you.
He draped himself over your body, as close as he could get without putting his weight on you. His free hand reached out for yours, and he laced your fingers together. He lightly bumped your nose with his.
"I missed you," you said softly.
"Querida," he smiled, "I'm glad you're here."
He let go of your hand to run his over every curve he could touch, marveling. "So this is real? You live here, and I can come over every night? You can spend the night at my place?" You nodded, eyes closed, reveling in the feeling of him actually touching you, not having to imagine it for once. He continued softly. "I can keep a toothbrush here, and you'll tell me the door code?" His hand moved between your legs.
"1776," you murmured. He burst out laughing, throwing his head back. The whole bed shook.
"Did you finally watch it?" You opened your eyes and nodded, and ended up laughing just at how happy he looked. "I understand keeping the move a secret," he gasped, breathless, "but how could you watch it and not tell me?"
You reached for his waist, pulling him to you.
"There hasn't been time."
He shook his head at you, eyes shining. Then he moved his hips to cover yours and kissed you deeply. His hands began exploring you more insistently. You moved together, every inch of skin familiar. From your games, you both knew how to read the other's bodies and didn't have to question when it was time.
He pushed your leg aside with his knee, sliding the tip of his cock between your lips, then slowly entered you with a sigh, leaning his forehead against yours. You brought your arms up around his shoulders but he stopped you, moving to hold you down by the wrists. He smiled, eyes closed, still slowly stroking himself in and out of you. It felt amazing.
"You're caught," he whispered. It made you giggle. He did have you overpowered, but not just with his hands. It was everything about him. You slid your legs up to wrap around his, holding him closer to you. Then you squeezed, hampering his ability to move in you.
"I can still make you wait and suffer." He grinned and you relaxed, inhaling as he moved faster.
"Haré que me ames," he growled into your neck. You replied with the Spanish you'd been learning.
"Dámelo duro, papi."
If it was possible to moan and laugh at the same time, he was doing it. Then neither of you had breath left for talking, just feeling, collision, moving together urgently, pleasure building as you labored against and with each other. His breaths rasped in your ear, you moaned against his neck, and his cock was demanding in you, pressing deeply. The pleasure built to unbearable levels inside you.
"Lin... Lin," you sighed as you trembled and writhed under him, and he joined you, shuddering as he held you tightly to him. Your release was a surrender, his a celebration.
For long minutes, you just lay there in silence, holding each other. There was time for that now.