Part 1: Under One Roof
The house smelled like pinewood, sweat, and iron — a scent that clung to the walls like the man who owned it.
Aaron was always shirtless at home. It wasn't vanity — or so he claimed — just comfort. His muscles stretched like steel cables under bronze skin, the kind that looked sculpted from labor, not leisure. His jaw held a constant shadow of stubble, and his voice had the weight of gravel and authority.
This was his house. He had worked for it. Paid for it. Bled in it.
And now, it was full of softness.
His little sister, Mia, had moved in with her boyfriend — a lithe, doe-eyed boy named Eli who walked as if afraid to disturb the floor. He spoke politely. Smiled gently. Dressed in oversized sweaters and tight jeans. His voice was light, like a whisper in a cathedral. Aaron had never known what to make of him.
The first time they met, Aaron thought Mia was introducing her friend. Maybe a roommate. Eli had extended his hand with a shy smile and delicate fingers, and Aaron had grasped it too hard, watching Eli wince before recovering.
That was weeks ago.
Now, every evening when Aaron came home from the gym, dripping sweat down his chest, he found Eli sitting curled up on the couch, legs crossed, reading or scrolling silently. Sometimes in shorts that barely covered his pale thighs. Sometimes humming soft pop songs under his breath. Sometimes glancing up when Aaron passed — eyes wide, blinking once, then lowering again.
Aaron had stopped watching, or tried to. But something in him stirred every time.
"Thanks again, big bro," Mia said as she set two mugs on the table that night. "Just until we land something. We'll be out of your hair soon."
Aaron grunted and took his coffee black.
Eli sat across from him, sipping from a pastel pink cup with cartoon kittens on it. He always used it. Aaron hated how it looked so right in his hands.
"Anything new today?" Aaron asked, not looking directly at him.
"I got a callback for a part-time teaching gig," Eli said, his voice quiet but musical. "Just tutoring middle school kids. Mia applied at a design firm too."
"Good," Aaron said. "Better start pulling weight."
Mia kicked him under the table. Eli didn't flinch. He just smiled. "Of course."
It was polite. Gentle. Obedient. Everything Aaron wasn't.
That night, Aaron couldn't sleep.
The walls were too thin. Or maybe he was too alert. Somewhere down the hallway, he could hear whispering. Soft laughter. Sheets moving.
And then… silence.
Too much silence.
He turned on his side, face buried in his pillow, chest tight. The image in his mind was uninvited — Eli's legs curled around Mia's, his pretty lips parting, that same soft breathy voice moaning quietly—
Aaron growled and sat up. He rubbed his face hard, then got up and walked to the kitchen. The house creaked like it was trying to breathe with him.
He didn't expect to find anyone else awake.
But there Eli was.
Wearing nothing but one of Mia's oversized T-shirts. It hung loose, falling off one shoulder. His smooth thighs were bare, knees drawn up to his chest as he sat on the counter, drinking almond milk straight from the carton like a sleepy kitten.
Their eyes met. Neither spoke.
Eli swallowed, slowly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't." Aaron's voice was hoarse.
He reached past Eli, grabbing a glass of water. He didn't move away fast enough.
Their arms brushed.
Aaron's skin prickled. His jaw clenched.
Eli didn't move.
"Thanks for letting us stay," Eli said softly. "It means more than you know."
Aaron didn't respond. He just stared at him — at the delicate collarbone peeking from the shirt, the faint curve of his hip, the way he held the carton like it was something precious.
Eli tilted his head, the light catching his lashes.
"Do I make you uncomfortable?"
The question struck like a blade in the dark.
Aaron looked at him — really looked. And for a split second, he didn't see Mia's boyfriend.
He saw something else.
Something dangerous.
Something he wanted to destroy or devour — he couldn't tell which.
"Go to bed," Aaron growled.
Eli's smile was soft, unreadable. He slipped off the counter and padded past him like mist. Aaron didn't turn, but he heard him pause at the doorway.
"I don't mean to. But I will… if you let me."
Then Eli vanished into the dark hallway, barefoot and silent.
Aaron stood alone in the kitchen, knuckles white around the glass.
He wasn't sure what scared him more — the boy's words, or the part of him that wanted to say yes.
[To Be Continued — Part 2 will build the tension further: accidental touches, smoldering glances, and psychological shifts as Aaron begins losing control of his carefully guarded masculinity.]