Always Eli by Charlie Novak

Chapter Six

Eli

I staredup at my pockmarked bedroom ceiling and sighed. It was late on Sunday morning, and usually I’d still have been asleep, but I’d woken up after an intense dream and now my brain had decided we were up.

The dream was still fuzzy, no more than shapes, colours, and lingering sensations on my skin, but there was a stubborn feeling of heat blossoming across my torso, and my dick was more than a little interested in whatever fantasy my brain had been indulging in. I just couldn’t remember what it was.

It was probably just a random sex dream.

I’d been going through the most hideous dry spell, which wasn’t helped by Orlando coming home every weekend with red marks all over his ass and then curling up with me to tell me all the delicious things his men had done to him all night long. I was happy for him because he deserved to be loved and cherished, but at the same time, I was a jealous hag because fucking dammit, I needed to get laid. Where was my willing, slutty bottom who’d let me play with their ass for hours on end?

The image of Tristan in his navy suit trousers, which perfectly hugged his little, round ass, strolled lazily into my mind.

I debated swatting the thought away like a fly. After all, this could not lead to anywhere but trouble. It was not a yellow-bricked road to a magical city but more a red road to pain. Tristan was my brother’s best friend, and if Richard thought my intentions were impure, he’d probably punch me.

Then again, when had Dick’s disapproval ever stopped me from doing something? It usually made me want to do things more, and like a giant red button labelled Do Not Touch, it was far too tempting to ignore.

My hand wandered down my chest, lazily grazing my nipples on the way. One day, I was going to get them pierced because I thought I’d love the extra sensation. I just wasn’t great with needles—something I’d figured out when I passed out on the day I got my nose pierced.

In my mind, I watched Tristan bending over in his suit trousers like he’d done on Thursday when he’d been trying to reload the printer. I’d only been watching him because I thought he’d need rescuing. Not for any other reason at all. His ass had looked lovely though. Very squeezable.

My brain helpfully conjured up a desk, and fantasy Tristan bent over it, looking over his shoulder at me with flushed cheeks and swollen lips where he’d pulled them between his teeth. His perfect, golden hair was mussed, and there was a desperate look of need in his eyes that made my cock throb. God, I just wanted to pull his trousers over his ass so his hole was exposed, open my fly, pull out my aching dick, and fuck him so hard that all he could do was cling to the desk and moan for me before he shot his load all over the polished surface.

I wrapped my hand around my cock, letting the fantasy play out in my mind as I stroked myself. My head was buried between the pillows, eyes falling shut as I thought about fucking Tristan in his office, the door shut and locked so we couldn’t be disturbed. Shoving his tie into his mouth to keep him quiet so nobody realised. Fucking him rough and hard until I came deep inside him, whispering in his ear that he was mine, then leaving him to go back to work full of my cum.

Fuck. That would be hot.

Maybe get a little plug for him to wear.

Then he’d have to sit through the rest of his day with it in, and every time he shifted in his seat, he’d be reminded he was mine.

“Shit,” I said loudly, spitting on my palm before jacking myself faster and harder. I was stupidly close already. My breath came in pants as my brain began to supply images of Tristan on his knees, sucking me off in his office because he was so desperate for my cock. “Fuck!”

I came with a grunt, painting my fist and stomach with my release. I lay there for a moment, letting my post-orgasm high sink into my bones. Whether it had been an advisable fantasy or not, it had been fun. And it wasn’t as if Tristan was ever going to know I was indulging in thoughts of him taking my cock.

Later that afternoon, after I’d dragged my tired ass through the shower and done a few chores, I’d hopped into my tiny, old car and headed south to see my family for Sunday dinner.

My family situation was often described as unusual, but I preferred to describe it as messy, queer, and slightly chaotic.

My parents lived next door to each other with their respective partners, having separated in the world’s politest divorce when I was about three. Then, when I was four, my mum and her lifelong best friend, lovingly known as Mimbles, realised they were in love with each other after Mimbles’s husband died from cancer. After that declaration, the two of them had wasted no more time and created an enormous, blended family with their six children. My dad had met his partner, Paul, when I was eight, and they’d been together ever since, living right next door because dad never wanted to miss out on being a parent.

The funniest thing was that dad and Paul hadn’t told us they were dating for years, even though we’d all figured it out. Apparently, they’d been worried about telling us, but none of us had batted an eye. Then again, there was only one straight person in my entire family—Richard.

My siblings and I were all fairly close in age, and we’d grown up in the middle of the Lincolnshire countryside living a semi-feral existence. As there were six of us, it made for a good split for teams, and we’d never ever done it as one family versus the other. Mostly because Richard and I refused to be on the same team. But I’d never viewed Oscar, Jules, and Finn as anything other than my siblings. Blood relations or not, they were my family, and I loved them more than anything else in the world.

Even now, as adults, we were still ridiculously close and nosy about each other’s lives. I knew it would drive some people crazy, but I loved it. Most of the time.

Recently, our youngest brother, Lewis, had acquired a boyfriend in the form of the charming television and theatre actor, Jason Lu. I’d met him a couple times, and I very much approved. Not only was Jason ridiculously handsome, but he seemed very grounded and down to earth, and he took excellent care of my baby brother. Poor Lewis had never had much luck with men—bless him—but Jason was wildly different than everyone else he’d dated before. They’d bought a house in Lincoln in the spring, and I’d spent many happy hours lounging on their sofa watching Jules and Lewis move furniture while Jason was in Canada wrapping up filming for his show.

I’d declined to help with the moving because Jules was ten times stronger than me from hefting car tires around, thus it was much easier to let her butch ass do it. Plus, it was Lewis’s house, and I didn’t want him telling me I’d done it wrong. Much easier to just sit and direct like a queen.

By the time I pulled up to mum and Mimbles’s house, there were already several cars in the driveway. I must have been one of the last to arrive.

“Hello, hello,” I said as I wandered into the large kitchen where everyone tended to congregate. There weren’t as many people there as I expected. “Did you miss me?”

“No,” Jules said with a wry grin. She was leaning against the counter, drinking a bottle of beer, her dark-blonde hair scraped back off her face in a messy topknot. Her t-shirt had an oil stain in the corner, and I wondered if she’d been looking at someone’s car. Separating Jules from an engine was largely a pointless endeavour. One day, I was going to clean her up and stick her in a suit. She’d do very nicely on lesbian thirst trap and attack dog TikTok.

“I didn’t miss you either, bitch,” I said, taking the bottle she handed me and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She laughed.

“Hello, darling.” My mum engulfed me in a soft, floral-scented hug, her pastel-pink hair brushing my face. She cupped my face, her numerous bracelets jangling as she scrutinised me. “You look very tired. Are they making you work long hours at this new job? You need to make sure you’re eating enough.”

“It’s fine. I shall endure,” I said. “Just feed me and tell me I’m pretty, and I’ll be fine.”

“You’re very pretty.” Mum kissed my cheek before wandering back towards the oven at the other end of the kitchen. “Orlando did a lovely job with your hair. He’s so talented. You should have let him cut it ages ago.”

“Absolutely not. I can’t let him get a bigger ego than he already has. There’s only room for one ego in our flat.”

“And it’s already yours?” Jules asked with a grin.

“Precisely.” I looked around the kitchen. Apart from Jules and mum, there was only Finn, who sat at the table reading something on his phone. Finn was the quiet, soft one, the family cinnamon bun as it were. He was so enthralled by whatever he was reading, he hadn’t noticed me coming in. Or if he had, he’d chosen to ignore me, which I found improbable.

“Hello,” I said, throwing my arms around his shoulders. “Reading anything fun?”

“Just a novel I’m recording this week,” Finn answered, twisting his head and giving me a small smile. “It’s a romantic suspense.”

“A good one? Is there a murder?”

“Yes, there’s a murder. Do you want to know who did it?”

“Absolutely not! It’ll ruin my enjoyment when I listen to it.” I grinned. I bought and listened to every single audiobook Finn narrated, whether I liked the story or not. It was the best way I knew to support him, and Finn was a fabulous narrator. “Are there smutty bits? Will I need to fast forward?”

Finn’s skin tinted slightly. “Only a couple, but they’re not very long.”

“My darling baby brother, I love you very much, but I do not need to hear you making dramatic breathing noises while reading dirty words. It’s very confusing.” Jules laughed from behind me, and Finn’s face flamed. He mumbled something quietly, and I kissed him dramatically. “No, I’m not going to stop listening to them. You’re an excellent narrator, and I like books with murders. Are you going to be doing any more in that mystery series? The one with the rich, layabout detective who’s an absolute chaotic bisexual dumbass?”

“I think so,” he said, his smile returning. “We’re just sorting dates now.”

“Excellent. I love those.”

“How’s your new job?” Finn asked, twisting in my arms so I had to release him. I pulled out the bench he sat on and slid in beside him. It was the one question everyone seemed to want the answer to, but Finn was the only one I’d tell. There was something about Finn that made me want to be honest. Lying to him was like trying to lie to a golden retriever puppy. I just couldn’t do it.

“It’s fine, very boring, but they are giving me money, and all I have to do is answer the phone, write emails, and try not to throw shade at Alistair in sales.” I sipped my drink. It was a fruit cider flavoured with pineapple and raspberry, and I’d happily have drunk it in one long swig, but since it would be my only drink of the night, I was going to savour it. Somebody needed to invent home teleportation so I could get drunk and then zap back to Lincoln in an instant. It would be so much easier. “Luckily, the other person on my floor is a gorgeous human called Pamela who insists on twice-daily tea and biscuit breaks, wears the most fabulous glasses, and I’m sure has a lipstick collection that would put mine to shame.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Finn said. “I guess it could be worse.”

“I think I just feel sorry for the poor suckers that have to work with you,” said Jules, wandering over from the counter and sitting down next to me so I was sandwiched between her and Finn. “How long before they find out you’re a complete bitch?”

“How rude! I’ve already been there two weeks, and everyone thinks I’m charming.”

Finn chuckled softly. “I give it a month then.”

“Smart,” said Jules. “I’ll go two.”

“I don’t like either of you anymore.” I grinned. “Where’s Lewis? He’ll take my side.”

“He’s in London with Jason for the weekend,” Mum said, breezing past us to get something from the fridge. “And Oscar is in New York. He’s writing a piece about city breaks.”

“Why doesn’t he ever take us on these breaks with him,” I grumbled. “I’d like a weekend in New York.” Oscar was a travel journalist and was always jetting off to beautiful parts of the world. Earlier in the year, he’d reviewed an exclusive resort in Bora Bora, and I’d drooled over the pictures he’d sent us. Then I’d Googled how much it would cost to stay there and cried. The only way I’d ever get there was picking up a rich sugar daddy—or mummy, I wasn’t picky—or by selling all my organs.

“Oh, he’s sending Mimbles and I to Rome for a week for our anniversary next year,” Mum added. “Isn’t that sweet of him?”

“So he’s not only swanning off to places himself, but he’s making us look like bad children,” I muttered. Jules laughed.

“I think he just feels guilty he’s not here a lot,” she said quietly. “This is a way to make it up to them.”

Jules had a point. Most of us hadn’t gone very far. Even if we’d moved away for university, we’d all come back again. Lewis had been the last. Except for Oscar. I didn’t think he’d ever stick to one place. Mimbles always said there was too much wind in his soul, that he’d never settle until he found a reason to stay.

It seemed like she was trying to be poetic, but honestly, it just made me think of Oscar as a stray cat.

The back door swung open, and I heard a collection of voices. Twisting on the bench I watched Mimbles, Dad, Paul, Richard, and his girlfriend, Ruby, appear.

“Hello, Eli,” Mimbles said, giving me a smile as she washed her hands in the sink. She was wearing an old pair of gardening jeans and a jumper she’d had since the nineties, her grey hair in short curls with her glasses nestled in the top of them. She was almost the complete opposite of my mum, but that was probably what had kept them together for so long. “Love the hair.”

“Doesn’t it look nice?” Mum said. “I said he should have let Orlando do it years ago.”

“You know, at this rate, I’m just going to grow it back out again,” I said, folding my arms stubbornly. Finn snorted, and Mimbles laughed.

“How’s work? Not too tedious?” Mimbles asked, drying her hands. I sighed internally. I should have expected all these questions given that it was the first time I’d seen them in person since I’d started the temp position, but it was irritating already.

“It’s fine. Not particularly exciting.” I saw Richard watching me, and my conversation with Tristan from the beginning of the week began replaying in my mind. I felt myself start to smile. “But then again, they’re paying me, so I’ll do whatever they want me to. No matter how hard it might be.”

Richard’s face twitched in irritation and smug satisfaction filled my chest. Mimbles gave me a shrewd look but obviously decided against pushing the issue.

“And what is it you’re actually doing?” Richard asked, standing at the head of the table and looking down at me. “Mum said it’s a proper job. What does that mean?”

“Rich,” Ruby said softly, like a gentle warning, from behind him.

“Like I said, I’m doing whatever they want.”

“And who’s they?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I sipped my drink. I knew I was being a petulant child. In fact, I was delighting in it. But there was something about my brother’s imperious demands that got under my skin. If nobody else had told him, I certainly wasn’t going to. Not yet anyway. Besides, the moment I told him, I knew I’d get a lecture about how it either wasn’t a good enough job or how pleased he was to see me growing up and taking life seriously.

I couldn’t think of anything worse.

“Jesus Christ, Eli,” Richard snapped. “Why are you being so childish about this?”

“Why do you instantly think I’m doing something shifty? Or at least that you view as shifty. It’s none of your damn business what I do for work.”

“Yes, it is.”

“And why is that?” I asked, anger rising in my chest. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to get irritated, but it wasn’t working. One look at his smug face and I was ready to explode. “Why do you, Dick for brains, have to know every single detail of my life? Is it because you want to know exactly how much of a disappointment I am to you? You’re not even my parent for fuck’s sake. What does this have to do with you?”

“You are a disappointment.” He was yelling now, and everyone was staring at us. “Why don’t you just grow up and behave like a normal person? You have a bloody law degree. Why don’t you fucking use it?”

“Because,” I said coldly, rising to my feet, “if being normal means being like you, I can’t think of anything worse.” I pushed the bench back, sliding out past Finn. “You’re a judgemental asshole, and if all you’re going to do is criticise my choices and jump to conclusions, then I’m done here.”

I pulled my keys from my back pocket and pushed past him, heading for the front door and leaving everyone in stunned silence behind me. Anger and frustration pulled at my chest, and I hated the fact that my eyes were prickling with tears. Nobody ever made me feel ashamed of myself except for him. I’d known what he was going to say, but it still stung to hear those words: a disappointment.

The worst part was that nobody else had said anything, which meant they were either too stunned to speak, or they agreed. I could probably put money on who was in each camp, but somehow that made everything worse.

I didn’t understand why Richard couldn’t just leave me alone. He’d been the same for years—acting like the worst combination of parent and teacher.

Enough was enough though. I wasn’t going to sit there and be interrogated by him.

Not anymore.