Always Eli by Charlie Novak
Chapter Seven
Tristan
“Eli? Are you okay?”
“Hmmm? Did you say something?” Eli looked up at me from behind the reception desk where he was covering for Pamela on Tuesday afternoon. He had a faraway look in his eyes I hadn’t seen before, and there was almost a flash of pain before he blinked and looked up at me.
“I just asked if you were okay,” I said. Richard had spent Sunday evening blowing up my phone with long rants about how Eli had childishly walked out of their family dinner because he’d refused to tell Richard about his job. Part of me wondered why Eli hadn’t just told him since Green & Wodehouse wasn’t exactly MI5, but a smaller part of me understood that if he told Richard, his brother would simply hold it over his head as an example that Eli could apply himself.
I felt caught in the middle, unable to move. It would be easy enough for me to tell Richard what was going on and pacify him, but if I did that I’d prove to Eli what he’d thought about me all along. And something inside me didn’t want that. It wanted to be different.
My feelings about Eli were like a tangled mess of wool, and I didn’t know where or how to start unpicking them. I didn’t even know how they’d become so tangled in the first place. One minute, he was just Richard’s brother, and the next, he was my handsome co-worker who threw me for a loop with every wry smile he shot my way. It shouldn’t have been complicated, but somehow it was.
“Never better.” Eli smiled at me from his chair, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Did you need something?”
“No, I just… I wanted to check on you.” I said the last part very quietly, like it was a secret I didn’t want to admit. Eli’s eyes narrowed.
“Dick tattled on me to you, didn’t he?”
“It was more ranting,” I said. “He was, er, upset you walked out on Sunday.”
“Well, then he should learn to mind his own fucking business,” Eli muttered. Then he sighed. He looked weary like the normal sparkling glow that surrounded him had dimmed slightly. I knew he and Richard fought a lot, but this seemed different. Perhaps this was the culmination of lots of different things, and the job was just the tipping point. I wanted to ask, but it didn’t seem like anything to do with me.
I just wished it was.
“Do you want to get a drink?” The question fell out of my mouth before I even had time to register it. It hung in the stunned silence between us for a moment. That was the second time that had happened, and I wondered if it would always happen around Eli.
If so, it was going to be a painful year.
“You know what,” Eli said, “I think I would. Come down about half five? It might be a little early, but fuck it. It’s Tuesday, and I’m stressed.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I patted the top of the reception desk, trying to look more confident than I felt. “I’ve actually got a couple of client appointments this afternoon, so I’ll be in the meeting room if anyone needs me.”
“Is that a hint for me to make you coffee?” Eli asked with a sly grin. “If you ask nicely, I promise it won’t be sludge.”
I laughed. “I wasn’t going to, but I’m intrigued now. So, yes, please will you make me and my clients any drinks, including coffee, as required? And in return, I’ll buy you at least two drinks of your choosing later.”
Eli’s grin widened. “Why, Mr. Rose, I do believe we have a deal.”
Several hours later, I found myself sitting next to Eli in a small cocktail bar at the bottom of Steep Hill. It had been Eli’s choice, and I’d been happy to see him smile again. It hadn’t really been my plan for Tuesday evening, but I’d already messaged my sister to ask her to let the dogs out and feed them. I knew by the time I got home I’d have been bombarded with photos of them curled up on her lap.
Right now, I was supposed to be studying the drink menu in front of me, but instead, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the man beside me. From this angle, I was struck by the swell of his lips and the strong line of his jaw. I had the urge to run my fingers along it and cup his chin to bring his face close to mine.
I’d never wanted to kiss someone as much as I wanted to kiss Eli in that moment.
The certainty of that feeling almost frightened me.
“Do you know what you want?” he asked, tilting his head towards me.
“Er, I’m not sure.” I hadn’t even looked at the menu. “Any suggestions?”
“Depends on what you like to drink?”
“Most things really,” I said. “I don’t like coconut though. It gives me numb tongue. And I’m allergic to shellfish. Although I don’t think that will be a problem here.”
“I’ve not heard of oysters in cocktails, but you never know.” He grinned. He’d undone his tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, giving me a tantalising vee of tanned skin to stare at. “Can I pick for you?”
“Sure. But if I don’t like it, I’m stealing yours.”
“Done. You’ll like it though. Men like everything I give them.” He winked at me and slid out of the booth, leaving me staring at him as he crossed the wooden floor towards the bar. My own collar suddenly felt very tight like I was struggling to breathe. I reached up and pulled at my tie, sliding it loose and tucking it into my bag before opening a couple of the buttons on my shirt. It didn’t help as much as I wanted it to.
Eli returned a couple of minutes later and placed a drink down in front of me. It was in a large hurricane glass and seemed to be varying shades of sunset colours with a curly straw poking out of the top.
“I went classic flavours,” he said, settling down next to me. His own drink was pink with foam on the top and seemed to have come with an ice lolly, which was balanced across the top of the margarita glass. “That is a Cake by the Ocean—vodka, peach liqueur, passion fruit syrup, and orange and cranberry juice.”
“Thanks.” I took a sip, and the sweet flavours burst on my tongue. I could barely taste the alcohol, which was probably dangerous. It seemed like the sort of thing I could drink very quickly without realising. “What did you get?”
“This is called a You Spin Me Round, which I mostly picked because it came with the helter skelter lolly. I think it has raspberries in it. And possibly rum. Or vodka. Might be both.” Eli picked up the wooden stick of the colourful, twisted ice lolly and lifted it to his mouth, flicking his tongue across the top of it suggestively. I stared, then took another large sip of my drink. I could definitely get drunk on these, and maybe that would be a good idea.
“What do you think?” Eli asked innocently, running his tongue up one of the grooves of the lolly before wrapping his lips around the top of it and sucking.
“Er, it’s… er… it’s great. Thanks.”
Eli grinned around the lolly, sliding it out of his mouth with a pop. “You’re welcome.” I wanted to think of something to say or at least something to ask him, but then Eli slid the lolly back into his mouth, and all I could do was stare as three-quarters of the frozen treat disappeared between his lips.
If I’d ever had a brain, I didn’t now.
There was a long moment of silence between us. I knew I should say something, anything, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the swell of Eli’s mouth or the way his lips glistened around the lolly. It should be illegal for him to eat an ice lolly in public.
Finally, Eli pulled off the lolly and licked his lips. His tongue was tinted red.
“So,” I said, desperately searching for something to talk about before I did something very stupid like ask Eli to take me home so I could suck his cock. “What do you do for fun? Is it just drag, or do you have hobbies outside of that? I don’t really know much about drag if I’m being honest. My sister Alexis keeps trying to get me to watch Drag Stars,but I’ve never gotten around to it. I’m probably not a very good gay.”
I took another large sip of my drink. There wasn’t much left now. Maybe I needed another? Eli laughed, biting off the end of the lolly, which he’d sucked to a point.
“I didn’t realise there was a points system for queerness,” he said. “Plenty of queer people don’t watch Drag Stars, including myself.”
“You don’t? But don’t—”
“Don’t I have to because I’m a drag queen?” He sipped his drink, holding the lolly in his other hand. “Let me ask you this, do you watch property or financial programmes?”
“No, of course not.”
“Exactly. I have some problems with some of the casting for that show, and although it’s done good things for making more people aware of the existence of drag, it’s also made it very prescriptive. Many people think the only acceptable drag is what they’ve seen on Drag Stars without realising it has its own rich history as an art form. Drag is art, and therefore it is subjective. You cannot put drag into a box and neatly label it for a straight audience. That is the antithesis of the art form.” He looked at me over the rim of his glass. “I apologise. I obviously get quite touchy about the subject, and I didn’t mean to lecture you.”
“It’s fine,” I said. It really wasn’t something I knew much about. “It’s funny. I’m gay, but I’ve never really engaged a lot with queer culture. Or maybe it’s not funny at all. I just… I’ve had a few gay friends, but they’re all similar to me.”
“Rich, white, masculine, and straight passing?”
“Pretty much.” There was no denying it. I knew I’d lived a fairly easy, privileged life. It sounded awful to admit that. Nobody really batted an eye if I went somewhere with a boyfriend because I looked and acted exactly like the rest of my family’s friends. The only difference was the person who stood next to me was male.
“Plus, your best friend is the most boring straight man alive,” Eli said, popping the lolly back into his mouth and sucking on it.
“If Richard is boring, then I definitely am. I mean, my hobbies are walking the dogs, giving tours at the castle in the summer, and painting historical miniatures. I don’t even do any battles with them. I just like painting them.” I felt my face flush. “I’m not exactly exciting.”
Eli reached out his hand, his fingers interlacing with mine on the top of the table. “Who says those things aren’t exciting? Dick is not exciting just by merit of being him. But you, Tristan… I think there are hidden depths to you.”
“Thanks.” I squeezed his hand, feeling a rush of warmth run up my arm. I wasn’t sure if he was just saying it to be kind or because he meant it, but I wanted to believe it was the second, even though this was Eli, and I still had no idea how to read him.
“Okay,” he said. “We need more drinks and then we are going to play twenty questions because I don’t know nearly enough about you, and I’m intrigued.” He grinned. “I’ve always thought of you as Dick-lite, but I’m beginning to suspect I’ve been very wrong. So, more alcohol and more questions. And then maybe pizza.”
“Pizza?”
“Or we can get Chinese if you want. You said coconut gives you numb tongue, so I’m assuming Thai food is out.” He slid gracefully out of his seat and headed back to the bar, hardly giving me time to process before he returned with two identical drinks in martini glasses.
“They’re called Daddy Issues,” he said with a grin. “I couldn’t resist. I’ll have to bring Orlando here for one.”
“Orlando is your housemate?”
“Yes, and my best friend and occasional fuck buddy. Although that’s stopped now because he’s got two gorgeous boyfriends who dote on him. Honestly, I can’t even get one person into bed, and now he’s got two men wrapped around his finger.” He sighed dramatically. “That was your first question, by the way. You get nine more.”
I pushed down the odd pang of jealousy that had swelled in my chest when he’d talked about Orlando and looked at Eli. “Okay, your turn then.”
“Are you single?”
“Yes,” I said, unable to stop myself from smiling. “Very.”
“Interesting.” Eli drew out the word slowly, then raised one eyebrow and sipped his drink. “Next question.”
I thought for a second. I’d always been terrible at these sorts of games. “Who’s your celebrity crush?”
“Do I only get one?” Eli asked, looking at me seriously as he took a sip. “Or can I have two?”
“Er, you can have two.” I hoped he didn’t ask me the same question because I wasn’t sure I had an answer.
“Good. I choose Sebastian Stan and Kat Dennings. Kat because she’s hot and funny, and Sebastian because he’s got that kinda cute broodiness to him. Also, I ship Steve Rodgers and Bucky way too hard, and I want to know if he’s good in bed.” There was a brief pause, and Eli grinned like he thought he’d stunned me.
“Good choices,” I said, sipping my drink. It was another one I could drink easily without noticing. “I ship them too, but I always felt bad for Peggy, even if girls never did anything for me. So I’d rather they were just a little throuple together, saving the world and looking gorgeous while doing it.”
“God, we’d all be fucked.” Eli sighed wistfully. “I’d do whatever they said in a heartbeat, and I hate being told what to do. They could tie me up and paint me green for all I cared.”
I laughed. “So your weaknesses are morally grey superheroes with eyeliner, muscly cinnamon buns, and women who could kill you?”
“Pretty much, and I’d die a happy man.”
I snorted and Eli grinned, a playful light dancing around in his eyes.
“Your turn then,” I said, wondering where on earth we’d go next as I took another long drink.
“What’s your favourite musical?” Eli asked, suddenly serious.
“Er, I don’t have one. I’ve not seen many musicals.” Nobody in my family liked them that much, so I never watched any. “Alexis made me watch Mamma Mia! with her once. The film one with Meryl Streep. Does that count?”
“I suppose it will have to.” Eli looked positively scandalised. “But you’ll have to watch more. I’ll educate you.”
“Big musical fan?”
“Yes.” Eli’s expression softened into something sweet and fond. “I used to watch them with Paul when I was growing up. He took me to see ThePhantom of the Opera for my thirteenth birthday, and every year we go to watch one in London together. I think next year we’re going to see Everybody’s Talking About Jamie because we missed it the first time it was on. It’s always been something we’ve done together, and those memories are special to me. Apart from Phil at The Court, Paul was one of my biggest influences to do drag. He’s always encouraged me to be myself and do what makes me happy. He taught me how to sew, which is a skill all drag queens need.”
“That’s really cool,” I said, hoping I sounded as earnest as I felt. “I don’t have anything like that with anyone in my family. My dad just wants me to be sporty so we can watch rugby and cricket together.” I sighed. “He always wanted a son who wouldn’t mind getting tackled.”
Eli snorted. “You mean you don’t like getting tackled by other men?”
“I do, but only in my bedroom, not when they’re trying to break my ribs.” I looked at Eli for a moment, then the two of us burst out laughing. I had no idea how strong our drinks were, but the effects seemed to have hit me suddenly. “You know,” I said, giggling into my cocktail, “I never talk about my sex life with anyone. Then again, that’s kind of boring too. I really am very boring. Why are you even sitting here with me?”
“Because, darling Tristan,” Eli said, “I think you’re quite fun.”
“That’s a lie.”
“It’s not.”
“Prove it.” I drained the last of my Daddy Issues and wondered if I could get another one.
“Okay, I will. What are you doing on Sunday afternoon?”
“Not much…” The question threw me. I didn’t think I was doing much. Nothing important sprang to mind. “Why?”
“Good, then we’re going to do something together.” Eli sounded so certain, and I was momentarily surprised. I didn’t think he’d meant it.
“What?”
“Not sure yet,” he said with a grin. “But I’ll think of something fun. Just the two of us.”
I wanted to ask him if it was a date, but even in my tipsy state, I couldn’t find the courage to ask. All I could say was, “Okay.”
“Good. Now, do you want another drink? I think we’ve still got some questions to ask and answer.”