Elvis is jittery, excited. His finger taps against the armrest of his chair, crossed leg bouncing as he stares out the window.

Jerry looks at him from over the magazine he's reading.

"We'll be there in twenty, E. P." He tells him. "You okay?"

Elvis was always a little apprehensive about flying, but little by little he's been overcoming that fear.

He nods, running a ringed finger over his lips. The thought of you, of seeing you and holding you in his arms has him anxious to get to Texas.

Especially since those press photos of you got out.

It had killed him to see the front page of almost every magazine with your face on it, hand gently settled in another man's. Even after you had explained everything, it still felt like a blow to the stomach each time it was brought up. He had a hard time getting on the plane, reporter's shouting question's about you at him all the way.

Jerry flips the page of his magazine, and Elvis notes that the front cover is of you and Candice's kid brother, again. He has to resist the urge to take it out of Jerry's hands and rip it in half.

The descent of the plane distracts him from these thoughts, eyes snapping to the window. Elvis watches as the base airport gets closer and closer, his heartbeat quickening at the thought of you waiting for him there.

Jerry nudges his propped up foot with his own.

"Ready to see your girl?"

Elvis smiles.

"More than ready."

*

*

*

You and Candice stand close together, luggage at your feet. The tarmac makes the hot Texas air even more unbearable, the two of you opting for comfortable denim shorts and thin tank tops in the hopes of cooling down.

You're bouncing on you toes, anxious to see Elvis.

You practically jump up and down when Elvis's plane lands, gripping Candice's arm.

"That's him, Candy!"

She giggles, sharing your enthusiasm. It makes you happy that you're able to distract her from the events of yesterday, her smile making more of an appearance as the day goes on.

The landing process takes about twenty minutes, leaving you impatient as the door to the plane finally opens, and your heart feels like it's about to explode when you see that Elvis is the first one to step off.

It takes everything in you not to run to him. The sight of your man is almost unreal- his face angelic, every movement he makes down the steps leaving you breathless.

Elvis takes them two at a time, just as eager to see you as you are to see him.

You finally lose your composure as he reaches the last step, practically running up to him.

Elvis greets you with open arms.

"There's my girl!" He shouts, laughing loudly.

You laugh right along with him, landing in his arms and burying your face in his chest. His shirt is soft, thin beneath your hands as you hold him close.

It's comforting to know that his heartbeat is beating as fast as yours.

"I missed you!" You mumble giddily, looking up at Elvis with big eyes.

He moves a hand under your chin, delicately lifting your lips to his.

It's a simple kiss, but it conveys exactly what you've both been feeling for this past week.

You break away, eyes blinking open slowly. He looks at you lovingly, sunglasses lowered a bit to really take you in.

"You're just as pretty as when ya left, darlin'."

You blush, giggling like a schoolgirl.

You rub a thumb across his cheekbone.

"I could say the same for you, baby."

A cough sounds from behind Elvis, and he turns slightly to find Jerry gesturing awkwardly to the plane.

"We ready to get this show on the road, guys? Check in's at 5."

The click of Candice's heels sound from behind you, the older girl rolling her suitcase towards Jerry.

"I'm ready, we're just waiting on the lovebirds over here."

She winks at you playfully.

Elvis laughs, his hand on your waist lowering to play with the hem of your denim shorts.

Heat fills your belly at the touch, and you bite your lip a little.

"Let's get goin' then, can't keep my hands off a my girl for long."

Candice laughs and Jerry rolls his eyes, smiling.

You quickly grab your luggage, taking Elvis's hand as he helps you up the steps.

The hotel you'll be staying at is a couple cities away, Elvis set to preform the next night in Houston. You're excited to be in a new city with your best friend and boyfriend, unable to keep still in your seat next to Elvis.

He has a firm hand on your thigh, fingers toying with the strings of your shorts. You play with the rings on his fingers, liking the way the metal feels against your heated skin.

You can't wait to get to the hotel, to be alone with him after a week of being without him.

Elvis obviously feels the same. He has you pressed as close as possible to him, body warm against yours. It makes you feel safe, protected in a way you haven't felt all week.

You can't really explain it, but being without him - even for a brief period - was like being without a part of yourself. You rest your head on his shoulder.

"You miss me, angel?"

You smile at the nickname.

"Always miss you, Elvis."

He chuckles, the sound comforting.

You feel like you could stay in this moment forever.

Jerry, whose sitting in front of the two of you, clear's his throat to speak.

"There's gonna be some press waiting for us at the hotel, askin' questions about the tour, your relationship, you know how it is."

Elvis nods his head, and you feel his hand tighten on your thigh.

"The Colonel says to keep things fast and simple, get in get out."

Elvis rubs at the bridge of his nose.

"I've been dealin' with press for so long Jerry, I know what I'm doing."

He seems irritable, the playful mood he was just in switching on a dime. It makes you tense, eyes shooting up to look at him.

You rub his hand softly.

"It'll be okay. I'll just keep my head down." You reassure him with a small smile.

"That's the thing, Y/N." Jerry says. "They're gonna be asking you all kinds of questions too, personal stuff, you know."

This confuses you.

"Me?" You ask.

Jerry nods.

"You're one of the most envied women in the country, Y/N. They're gonna wanna know all about the photo with Candice's brother, your relationship with Elvis."

Nerves overtake you, anxiety making you bite the inside of your cheek.

You aren't used to this kind of attention, the cameras, the reporter's. It's overwhelming.

You look to Elvis for some sort of comfort, but he has a hand covering his face, looking frustrated. This sudden shift in mood throws you, not having really experienced him like this before.

"I don't even know what'd I'd say, how I'd respond."

Candice hums from across the aisle.

"If anyone asks about Reggie, just be honest. Tell them he's just a friend you were seeing off. It shouldn't be a big deal."

You nod your head, and Jerry agrees.

"Press is mostly just a lot of vultures vying for attention anyway, Y/N. Don't pay them any mind." He tells you, and this comforts you. Elvis is still tense beside you, and you grip his hand in yours in the hopes of offering some comfort.

"Wish they'd just leave me the Hell alone, I'm tired of 'em bothering my girl and my family day and night."

Elvis muses aloud, drawing Jerry's gaze to him.

"I know, man. It's unfair but it's the life of a star, ya know?"

Elvis doesn't respond, just looks out the window solemnly. You wish you had the right words to make him feel better, to take his frustrations and banish them from his thoughts. All you can do for now is hold onto him, hoping your presence alone offers some piece of mind.

With your head rested against his shoulder, you devise a dialogue in your head. You imagine reporters, flashing cameras greeting you when you step off the plane. You try to think of the right words to say, ways to dodge uncomfortable questions, and your head spins.

Never in your life would you have imaged you'd know how Elvis Presley feels.

The thirty minute flight goes by quickly, and before you know it Jerry is coaching you on what to say as you step off the plane and into the airport.

"Just smile, darlin'." Elvis tells you, gripping your waist tight with one arm. "Flash 'em that pretty smile of yours and they'll forget everything else. That's what happens to me."

Your heart melts.

Jerry has an arm looped around Candice, carefully guiding her through the throng of reporters and photographers. You notice the light flush on her high cheekbones, and vaguely wonder about Jerry's girl Shelia back in Vegas.

Your ripped from those thoughts when a reporter shouts your name.

"Y/N! Y/N, who'd you go to see in Fort Worth?"

Elvis tenses beside you. You hope the crowd doesn't catch it,

You smile, wide and pretty as you answer.

"Went to visit a family friend, he's shipped out!"

"An old boyfriend?" Another reporter yells out, and one of the bodyguard's in front of you presses into the crowd, guiding the four of you through.

"Just a good friend!" You shout back, hoping your voice sounds steady.

"Elvis! What do you think of Y/N's base visit?"

Elvis waves a hand, a phony smile plastered on his face.

"She's my good girl, I'm not worried!"

The crowd laughs, ever trying to get into the King's good graces.

You hold tight to Elvis's side, and a few people in the crowd awe. You blush, trying to keep up. The rush of the crowd is overwhelming, like being underwater. The car that's meant to take you all to the hotel falls into view and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Once safely tucked into the car, you fall against Elvis.

"That was a nightmare!" You exhale.

Elvis chuckles beside you.

"That was nothin' doll."

You look up at him through your lashes, a newfound compassion brimming in your chest.

"You really have to deal with that on the daily?"

He nods, black hair falling across his forehead.

"I'd take the screaming fans over nosy reporters any day." Elvis pushes his sunglasses up onto his head. "At least what they want from me is real."

You agree, nodding as you tuck your knees up to your chest. You play with the strap of your sandal, resting your head on your knees as the car leaves the airport. You're excited to finally have some alone time with Elvis, to catch up and hold him to you.

You look at him, taking him in.

Elvis's hand is poised at his mouth, thumb tracing the plump lower lip. His rings reflect the lights of the passing city, blue eye's watching out the window. You notice the way a few hairs fall across his forehead despite being pushed back from the sunglasses, and you smile when he wrinkles his forehead, fussing with the stray hairs.

Elvis's gaze catches yours, and he gives you that grin, that shy grin that reminds you so much of the mischievous kid he still is.

"Whatcha lookin' at, angel?"

You shake your head against your knees, popping your head up and taking his face in both hands.

"Just you."

He smiles when you kiss him, his own hand tracing your cheek.

"Ahem."

The noise startles you both, and you blush when you see Jerry and Candice sitting in front of you, poorly concealed amusement painted across their faces. It's so easy to forget the rest of the world when you're around Elvis.

"We're here." Jerry says, smirk evident on his face. He nods to the window, the front entrance of the hotel before you.

Elvis rolls his eyes, and Candice giggles.

"Save it for the hotel room, 'kay kids?" She teases, and you swat your hand at her playfully.

There's more reporters, of course, but this time you keep your head down, following Elvis as he leads you by the hand into the hotel. He's impatient, anxious to get you up into your shared room.

It feels like everything happens so fast- the elevator ride, the fumbling of the room keys, the way the two of you laugh as you stumble into the room, not wanting to let go of one another for even a second.

Elvis kisses you hard once the door is closed, taking you into his arms like you've always belonged there. You return the action with fervor, lips practically bruised by how desperate you both are. The strap of your tank top slips down your shoulder, and you cut out the middle man by taking it off altogether.

The two of you stand there in the darkening hotel room, air hot and heavy as you both try to catch your breath. You're left in just your denim shorts, Elvis still fully dressed. The older man takes you by the shoulders, eyes dark with lust as they rake over your topless form.

"God, Y/N." He practically groans. "You have no idea how hard I've been tryin' to keep my hands to myself."

You move your hands to his chest, toying with the soft material of his t-shirt.

"You don't have to anymore, Elvis." You say, voice low and breathy. You know it drives him crazy.

You lean in close, lips inches from his.

"Touch me."

And that's all it takes.

Before you know it, he has you in the air, your legs wrapped tight around his waist. You're being carried over to the king sized bed, sandals falling off your feet as you go.

Elvis's lips are hot against yours, heavy open mouthed kisses being planted across your cheeks, neck, lips. You feel yourself loosening up, completely opening yourself up as he places you on the bed. With quick precision he pulls the denim from your lower half, eyebrow raised when he notices you had chosen to forgo panties.

"Expectin' something, doll?"

You smile up at him, faux innocent painted across your expression.

"I don't know what you mean, baby."

He growls low, excitement heating up your insides at the sound. You tug at the hem of his shirt, practically begging him to take it off. Elvis obliges, the offending garment flung away with no thought. You let your hands trace down his torso, manicured nails trailing down his chest to the top button of his pants.

"You want me?" He asks, breathless as he undo's his pants.

You nod, rubbing your thighs together as you watch him undress.

"How bad, baby?"

You lean up to kiss at his neck feverishly.

"More than you know, more than I could ever tell you."

"Yeah?"

You nod again, hair falling into your eyes. He quirks an eyebrow, flipping you both so you're sat above him, his back flat against the bed.

"Be a good girl and show me then."

You feel yourself dripping at his words, making quick work of his boxers. You keep eye contact as you lower yourself until you're face to face with his dick, taking the hot, heavy flesh into your hand. Elvis watches you with dark eyes as you tentatively plant a kiss to the head, lip caught between his teeth as he's sat up on his elbows.

You tease just a little, making his hips buck. You giggle and he groans.

"You're killin' me, baby."

You take him fully into your mouth as an apology, watching as he throws his head back.

Elvis's hand comes up to tangle in your hair, and you take a deep breath through you nose as he presses you further down. You refuse to close your eyes even though they're watering, too enraptured with the sight before you.

Elvis looks lost in ecstasy, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, mouth parted around a low groan. You bob your head slowly, working your hand around the parts you are unable to reach with your mouth. It turns you on, knowing you're the reason he's feeling like this. You reach down to play with your clit with one hand, moaning softly around his dick.

"Fuck, angel." He moans. "That's my girl, so pretty."

The low timbre of Elvis's voice has you clamping your thighs around your hand, mouth working harder with enthusiasm.

"Hang on, baby, gonna make me come." Elvis pants, and it takes you a moment to pull off, enjoying the feeling of him against your tongue.

You sit up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He gets up on his knees, moving towards you to cup your face in both hands. Elvis kisses you once, twice, gently pressing you back into the bed. Your hands find his back, gripping him close to you as he presses himself against you.

Elvis kisses your neck, your cheek, your nose, before pulling back to look into your eyes.

"I gotta tell you somethin', Y/N." His voice makes you tremble, vulnerable and sweet.

Elvis's gaze is sincere, so earnest it almost scares you. You look back with as much intensity.

"Tell me."

So, he does.

"I love you."

Your heart floods with emotion, and you surge up to kiss him,

"Tell me again." You whisper.

"I love you."

He kisses you.

"Again."

"I love you." He whispers into your mouth.

"Again."

He enters you.

"I love you."

You throw your head back.

"I love you, too."

And Elvis moves into you quickly, thrusts slow and deep as he takes you apart and puts you back together again. Your hands cling to him like a lifeline, mouth open around soft gasps and heavy pants.

You feel so good, euphoric, unable to take your eyes off of the man you love.

The man who loves you.