25. Phoenix

Phoenix

Takes All Night

K elly is slumped at our dining table, nibbling a piece of burnt toast, no doubt, to soak up the acid in her stomach. I drop my eyes to the floor sheepishly and start some coffee. Last night…fuck. I hope it helps. I hope what I said matters . Eli and I stayed up for another hour kissing after I poured my heart out, and then eventually, I peeled my mouth away so he could sleep in my arms. He’s still asleep.

“What time is it?” Kelly groans.

“8:30.”

Another dramatic groan. “Why am I alive right now?” Her head thunks on the table.

“Because hangovers start early,” I tease, feeling lighter than I have in…fuck… years.

“Is Eli okay?” she asks against the wood. “Jorge texted me.”

I smile. Always looking out for me, that one. “Think so,” I say and fill up the coffee pot. “Hope so,” I tack on.

Her head lifts slightly, wincing at the light in the kitchen. “You know I don’t care that he’s here.”

My eyebrows zip together. “You don’t?”

“Of course not,” she says adamantly.

“I thought,” I shift on my feet, rubbing the back of my neck, “well, I thought you wouldn’t want him here because of everything that’s happened.”

“I can give second chances.” Her head thunks down again. “We all need them now and then.”

Crossing the space to the table, I throw my arms around her and hug her tight. “You’re the best, Kel.”

“I know,” she moans in pain. “Since I’m so great, can you get me some Tylenol?”

I laugh, kiss her head, and go to the bathroom. When I return with two pills and a cup of water, she mumbles thanks, and the coffee pot clicks off. “So I take it Jorge filled you in?” I ask, pouring us both a cup.

“Obviously,” she sighs and takes another bite of her toast. “God, this tastes like ass.”

I chuckle, sliding into the seat across from her. She takes the coffee mug with greedy fingers, forgoing the water. “What did you drink last night?”

“My great aunt’s box wine. It’s like juice, okay? Sweet and smooth. I had to leave my car there and catch an Uber. Think I might’ve thrown up in it.” She grimaces.

“I don’t remember a time I’ve ever been that drunk.”

“Because you don’t drink.”

“I have,” I argue, realizing how silly this is.

“Two sips of a beer at that party doesn’t count.”

I’m about to tell her it was half the bottle when I hear my bedroom door open. Helios darts out of there and immediately rubs on my legs. Eli freezes when he sees us. His pretty blue eyes are wide and bloodshot. “Morning,” Kelly chirps and slurps her coffee.

“Uh…good morning,” he says and all but screams with his eyes that he needs me.

In a flash, I’m out of my seat, ignoring my baby meowing for breakfast. He’s a chubby cat. He can wait a minute. Crowding him back into the short hallway out of sight, I search his face. “Are you okay?”

“You weren’t in the bed.”

“Just making coffee.” I rub his arms, sliding my hands up to his shoulders to rub them.

He nods slightly, then glances behind me. “Is she mad? You know…that I’m here?”

“No. It’s fine. Do you want to come sit with us?”

I watch him debate the offer momentarily before he bites his lip. “Yeah.” Leaning to kiss him, I briefly press my lips to his before he pulls away. “My breath.”

Chuckling, I cup his face and spear my tongue in his mouth. He gasps, clinging to me, eyes bugging out of his skull. “Don’t care. Come on.”

What can I say? My spirits are sky-high for once, and nothing will bring them down. He holds my hand in a death grip, hiding in his messy hair. I can’t say I blame him for being nervous. My friends know everything that happened between us. But one thing he never got to experience is their forgiveness. We’re a fucking family. If I accept him, they will do so by default. It’s just how we are.

Eli lowers into a chair while I get another cup of coffee for him. I make sure to add extra creamer and some cinnamon for him. His eyes water when I place it in front of him. They tell me that he’s surprised that I remember. Of course, I do. I remember everything about him. Kelly eyes us both before breaking the ice.

“How you been, Eli?”

He freezes, coffee cup at his lips. “Um.” I give him a gentle nod, reassuring him. “Well,” he breathes, takes a sip, and sets it down carefully. “It’s been pretty bad, actually.”

The coffee must be helping my friend out because she perks up. Kelly has this motherly nature about her that makes everyone feel at home—at ease. “I’m sorry it’s been bad. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I got two.” She points at them like a nerd.

Eli shoots her a careful smile and looks at me again. God, it’s like he’s seeking my approval. “Thanks, but it’s okay.”

“You wouldn’t have said things were bad if it was okay ,” she drawls. “This is a safe place, babe. I know buttface over there can be dense as a rock sometimes, but that’s why he has us. You can have us, too.”

I scowl at her for calling me a buttface… and dense. But I say nothing because this is good for Eli. He needs to know people give a fuck. Whereas I want to be the focal point of his support, a few others couldn’t hurt. He sips his coffee, a frown working over his features. I reach out and stroke his back, making him lean into it.

“I set my aunt’s house on fire,” he whispers out in a rush.

Kelly and I both blink in surprise. He wilts in on himself, tucking his chin to his chest.

“What?” she asks while I say, “On fire ?”

He winces at my voice, shaking. I glance at Kelly and she gives me a look that says do something.

“I thought it would get rid of the shit in my head,” he says, seeming to fall apart at the seams. “She ruined my life, you know? Just completely destroyed it. I wanted to do ballet. I could’ve been a dancer.” I’m wide-eyed. Holy fuck. “All I wanted was to do ballet. Just dance. Dance. ” He cups his face and sobs.

We both move at the same time. I grab one side of him while Kelly holds the other, locking him firmly in our embrace. I’m waiting for him to clam up, to tell us to fuck off, but he doesn’t. God, he keeps spilling like a dam. “She’d ash her cigarettes in my food on purpose. And then Tom? Fucking Tom. The amount of porn he’d watch. Always roaches in stuff. In the cereal. In my bed. Tracy always smelled like vodka so I hate it. Can’t stomach it.”

“Eli,” I croak, kissing his shoulder.

“You know what she told me? That I should’ve been a swallowed cumshot.” He laughs hysterically while he cries. “I hate her. I’m twenty-eight years old, and I want her to die .”

“Good god, babe. Me too,” Kelly growls, finding my hand on Eli’s back and squeezing it.

“So yeah. I set her fucking house on fire. And now she lives in mine. I can’t go home. I don’t have a home. I don’t belong anywhere. ”

“That’s enough,” I order him, feeling my entire body tremble with rage. “That’s enough, sweetheart.”

“There’s more,” he whimpers.

“I know. I know there is, but I need you to take a breath. Come on. In through your nose and out through your mouth.” Kelly joins me as we talk him through breathing. “That’s it. Keep doing it.”

It takes a few minutes, but we eventually get him calm. I move him over to the couch, where he instantly crawls into my lap, hiding in my chest. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s reverting to some child-like frame of mind as he relives the trauma I always suspected he had. Does this mean he trusts me? Is he finally opening up? Kelly texts furiously, probably updating Jorge…possibly Michael and Devon too. I honestly am way out of my element. I don’t know what to do other than praise him.

Sure, arson is illegal and a bit extreme, but I can see why he’d do it. High or not. A person can only live through so much emotional suffering before they snap. I can’t help but think I had something to do with it.

“Phoenix,” he rasps, clawing at my sides.

“Shhh.”

“I just need it quiet. Please make it quiet.”

Kelly’s eyes are puddles of sympathy at his desperate plea. “I have an idea,” I tell him, gathering him in my arms and rising from the sofa. He coils his arms around my neck, cheek plastered to mine.

I carry him to the bathroom and shut the door. Somehow I manage to flip on the shower. Sitting him on the closed toilet, I grab my phone and find his favorite song. He’s breathing hard, eyes shut tight.

Shout by Tears For Fears plays through the speaker.

It’s loud enough to hear over the shower spray. Fuck, the words hit so much deeper now that I’ve been given a glimpse into what he’s lived through.

“Lift your arms,” I tell him, and he does.

His chest heaves up and down while I get the sweats and briefs off. Once he’s bare, I do the same. Then I pick him back up and bring him into the shower. I made sure to repeat the song. I can’t make it quiet in his head. That’s impossible, but I can drown it out. With this song, with my presence, with the warm water washing away all the shit clinging to him.

“ I’m talking to you, come on, ” I sing to him.

With one arm under his knees, the other cradling his back, I sing that whole song five times. He stares at me the entire time, lucidity slowly returning to his eyes. I’m ready to fight for him.

Finally.

E li passed out as soon as he hit my bed. I lingered for a while, watching him breathe like I used to before wandering into the living room. I slump into the couch, and Helios immediately jumps into my lap. Fuck , I forgot to feed him.

“I already did it,” Kelly says from the washing machine.

“Thanks.”

My cat bumps at my fingers, demanding pets, and I give in to him. He purrs wildly, probably trying to comfort me. I’m emotionally exhausted, having gone through so many in such a short period. I need to get Eli’s things from his hotel, but I’m honestly afraid to see the state of it. The cut on his leg is deep. He’s got eight visible stitches. I was careful not to let any soap get on them while I scrubbed his body, but just seeing it—fuck, there’s going to be blood. My chest hammers, remembering the other hotel.

“Kelly,” I croak, unsure I can see it again.

“Yeah?”

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Debatable, why?”

I swallow and scoop Helios to my chest. “Eli’s things are at his hotel. I…I was going to ask if you wouldn’t mind getting them.”

“I mean, I can. What the hell was that, though?” She shuts the washing machine and walks over to me. “He just went into a full-blown panic.”

“Wouldn’t you?” I say with a frown. “I mean. He said there’s more. More. ”

She nods solemnly and sighs. “Did you know any of that?”

“Nothing. Not a thing.”

“What are you going to do?”

What am I going to do? The obvious answer is to be here for him. To help him however he needs it. But the reality is that I’m not qualified for this shit. I’m not a doctor or therapist. I barely acknowledge my issues. I wouldn’t know the first thing about dealing with that. Not that I don’t want to, because I do. If I could make it all better with some sweet words and good sex, I’d have a poem written and my dick out.

Eli needs help. Real help.

The kind I can’t give him.

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure out something.”

“Didn’t you say that Oliver is seeing a new therapist?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know which one.”

“Doesn’t Nyx?”

I sigh and kiss Helios’ head. “Yeah. I…can ask.”

“Can’t hurt, right?” She glances down at her mismatched pajamas, aka my boxers, and someone’s bleached Pantera shirt—probably Devon’s from when he dyes his hair. “I’ll ask Jorge for the hotel info while I get my car. But seriously, ask her.”

“I will.”

“You got this, bro. I believe in you.”

I huff a laugh and thank her.

She grabs her keys from under the couch, shaking her head in confusion, then slips on black UGGS before leaving. I sag further into the cushions when it’s just me and my cat in here. Asking Nyx is the easy way to go about it, but why not try to go straight to the source? I grab my phone from my pocket and pull up Oliver’s thread. He read my text from yesterday.

Rubbing my face, I consider how to ask. I’ve never asked him anything about his therapy or rehab stints in years. He probably assumes I don’t care.

I do care. I’m just a dick.

I’m trying to get Eli to see a therapist. Was wondering if yours was any good?

I send it, not expecting anything. But he writes back. There’s a shiny new text from my baby brother, and I swear to god, I’m going to cry again.

About damn time. Dr. Jake Langely.

He sends the address and phone number.

Ohmygod.

How are you?

I’m sorry.

I’m so fucking sorry, Oli.

I miss you.

He reads them but leaves it alone.

Doesn’t write back.

Fuck.

I sniffle, clutching the phone for a moment, and process. That was too much. I bombarded him after one scrap of acknowledgment. Shit. I go to text something else but think better of it. Next time I see my sister, I’ll ask her for his address. Fuck, I’m going on tour, though. I leave in about a week.

I groan loudly and plug my phone into the charger. Of course, now that I’m trying to make amends with the people I love more than anything, I have to leave the country. There’s no way I’d ask my band to cancel this tour; they can’t have anyone fill in on such short notice. I have to go. I have to leave. My gut twists at the thought.

Gently placing Helios beside me, I get up and creep back into my room.

The heaviness in my heart eases some when my eyes land on Eli’s sleeping form. His long lashes rest over his cheeks, and he looks serene right now. Even with his scruff and damp hair, the calm that exudes him makes him appear almost angelic. God, I’m such a sap. I get into bed with him, spooning his back, and kiss the exposed spot of his neck. He subconsciously scoots closer to me like he used to when we were together.

The need for skin on skin is unbearable, so I slip my hand under the front of his shirt and rest my palm over his stomach. We smell the same now. He’s in my clothes, my conditioner is in his hair, my soap on his body. I love how we fit so well together. My lips brush that spot again, and he releases a breathy sigh that goes straight to my dick. Not now. But the memo is lost because I’m getting hard. It’s got to be his presence. The way his ass is curved right against my crotch.

Ugh.

I realize this is highly inappropriate because he had a full-on breakdown, and I’m fighting the urge to rub my cock on him. He’ll always be beautiful to me, desirable. We’re symbiotic like that. Forcing my eyes to shut and keep myself from grinding into his ass, I take a breath. A few minutes pass, and just when my boner starts to ease, Eli wiggles. His perky ass glides right over it. I bite off a groan and hold him tighter so he’ll be still.

He wiggles again.

I’ve never had Eli’s ass. Ever.

The first time we were intimate, I tried to top him, but he said no and fingered me until I was coming hands-free. And then he fucked me. It was just decided from that point on that I was a bottom. He’d give me some freedom to top from the bottom, but it’s not the same. For some twisted reason, I want to pry his cheeks apart and slide in. It’s got to be a possessive thing. Even for work, Eli doesn’t bottom. Would he like it? Would he want to?

Why have we never talked about it before?

As skinny as he is, he’s got a nice ass. I’ve always appreciated it. Now? Now I feel like a teenager seeing a pretty pink hole for the first time. I’m being a creep. A thirsty ass bitch. Getting emotional makes me horny, and Eli has always used it against me in the past. He’d take whatever I was feeling and fuck it out of me. I want to do that to him. I want…hell, I want to make him feel good like he does for me.

And there goes his ass again. He’s fucking awake.

“Eli,” I groan.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

He hums, takes my hand, and places it on his half-hard dick. “You kept poking me. Can’t sleep with a pole in my ass.”

I stroke him through the sweats he’s wearing, taking the opportunity to roll my hips. A happy sigh leaves him. “Sorry,” I say, but I’m really not.

“It’s okay. I like it.”

My hand stills. I swallow down a gulp. “You do?”

“Mhm.” This time, he works his ass over my dick. A slow, firm roll that has my eyes fluttering. “Do you want to fuck me, baby?” he whispers, guiding my hand over his cock again.

Oh hell, when he says it like that? “I do.” I groan and try to talk myself out of it. He probably feels terrible still. And he’s got stitches. “I’ll be fine, though. You should rest.”

“I don’t want to.” And he shoves my hand down the front of his pants. “Touch me.”

“Are you feeling better?” I lift on my elbow to look down at him because he doesn’t answer. Still holding his dick, I search his expression. “It’s…okay if you’re not.”

He nods once and peeks at me. Pouting when I pull my hand away, he sighs and turns over so we face each other. I hold back a moan when our dicks brush. “I don’t want what happened to make shit weird between us. I know I’ve fucked everything up, but can you just pretend I didn’t?”

I cup his face, pushing as much conviction as I can into my voice as I tell him, “You didn’t fuck everything up. If anything, you made things better.”

He nibbles his lip, caressing my side. “I did?”

“Yes, Eli. You did. You .”

His lashes flutter as he squeezes my hip. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? You’re here. We aren’t fighting. I’m hard as fucking granite and trying to be a gentleman. We’re okay.”

A cute snort comes out, and he pushes my shirt up to feel my skin. “You don’t have to be a gentleman with me.”

I see something fade in his eyes, so I shake my head. “I do. I should be courting you like those dudes back in the day. Proving to you that I’m worth being with, making you feel good and safe.” He scoffs, so I kiss his forehead. “I want to take you on fancy dates, hand feed you, make you smile.”

“That’s so cheesy,” he whines.

“Yeah, well, it’s true. Should’ve done that shit a long time ago.”

“But we don’t do that.”

“We will,” I assure him and find his lips.

He moans against me, hand sliding up my back. I tilt his head to give me better access and take control. It’s fucking weird not being at his mercy, but he’s letting me do this. Careful of his leg, I roll on top of him and suck his lips. I toy with his lip rings, nibbling and licking them. He arches into me and coils his arms tighter around my torso. I flick my hips against him, coaxing more sweet moans free. Nudging his face to the side, I find the cherry blossom petals on his neck and kiss each one. I take my time, savoring every gasp, every twitch in his fingers. I lap at his skin, his taste so familiar that I can’t help but take a bite.

“ Fuck ,” he moans loudly.

I grin against him before doing it again, then soothing the sting with my tongue. For a brief moment, I remember that shitty taunt he said to me weeks ago. He kisses me there, too. Like fuck he does. I bite him harder, and he bucks under me. Eli might’ve been with more people than anyone I know, but I’m the one he remembers.

He’s not ever forgetting me, either.

“Phoenix,” he rasps, reaching down to cup my ass and smash our cocks together.

There’s too much fabric; we aren’t close enough. I kiss him again, feeding him my tongue while I hike up his shirt. Once it’s up to his armpits, I push myself up to tear it free from his body. I straddle him, feeling the need to show him . Show him who I am. The guy I never let out because he loved me being a needy whore. I try to shake those invasive thoughts free, but they won’t budge, so I drag my nails down his chest, and he throws his head back.

I get rid of my shirt next, picturing him in all angles. In every single image, I’m fucking him speechless. Popping off him, I yank his sweats down to his ankles, my eyes snagging on the bandage. Fuck. I can’t be this aggressive. I need to tone it down.

“You’re so hot when you’re jealous, baby,” he purrs and kicks the sweats off completely—my mind short circuits when he bends his knees and parts them.

Like a heat-seeking missile, my eyes land on his hairless pink hole. I wet my lips, panting like a damn beast. His long fingers curl around his balls, tugging on them for a few beats before lowering to tease his taint.

“Ask me,” he rasps. “Ask me.”

“Have you ever bottomed before?” I all but growl the question, positioning myself between his legs, my cock tenting in my shorts.

“Not with another person.”

My eyes flick to his while I run my palms up his calves. “Never?”

“No.”

I can’t help but feel a swell of relief in my chest. “How come?”

“Do you want to get into that right now? Or do you want to get me ready?”

I’m off the bed with speed, ripping down my shorts and chucking them. I get the lube from my nightstand and get back between his legs. He bites his lip, still teasing his fluttering hole. God, all I want is to take him hard and fast. It’s been so long . I’m already leaking, precum beading at my slit. Squeezing the base of my cock, I practically vibrate when he lifts his balls to give me a better view. He’s perfect.

“Gorgeous,” I breathe.

“I know,” he smirks like a cocky bastard.

I spread his legs, stroking his inner thighs, and look my fill. It’s not that I’ve never seen it before, but knowing I have permission to touch and fuck it, yeah, I’m not going to last. Dropping down to my stomach, I kiss the sensitive skin at the junction of his groin, smelling him. He plays with my hair, allowing me this. I’ll never take it for granted. Never take him for granted. Nuzzling his balls, I kiss them, then drag my tongue up his shaft and suck his fat cockhead.

“Fuck, baby. Your mouth—” A loud groan cuts off his words while I flick over the sensitive underside. Then I bite it. He yelps before purring, shoving his cock down my throat.

I work him up until he’s moaning and humping my face. All the while, I’ve been getting my fingers lubed up. When I feel him harden further against my tongue and hear his breath hitch, I pull off him and press a finger inside. His back bows off the bed, his mouth open in a silent scream.

“Jesus Christ,” I growl, feeling him for the first time. He’s tight as all hell, warm, inviting me in deeper. “God damn, sweetheart.”

“More,” he demands. I nibble his inner thigh while finding his prostate. When I press down on it, he whimpers. “There. Right there.”

Humming, I work a second finger inside him, fucking intoxicated by how they sink into his tight ass. I’m absently humping my damn bed, loving every second of this. “How does it feel?” I ask.

“Good. Really good.”

“How big of a toy have you taken?”

He moans, hole clenching on my fingers. “Not as big as you.”

“Are you lying?” I whisper and lick one of his balls.

“No.”

I like that answer. Getting off my stomach so I can finger him harder, I hover over him and take in his face. Those kiss-swollen lips, his hooded eyes, and how fucking beautiful he looks getting fucked by my hand. His cock is angry and red, leaking all over his stomach. Reaching for me, he yanks on my hair and crushes our mouths together. My ring finger teases his outer rim before joining the other two.

“Phoenix,” he gasps.

I suck his tongue hard before attacking his lips. The kiss is passion and devastation. It’s my pain and his. It’s my love for him, my soul-deep need to be what he wants, and my silent prayer that he lets me keep him forever. He deserves to be wanted forever. I can be that man for him. I know it. He’s the love of my life. And even if I were the one impaled on his fingers, I’d still feel that way. Sex or no sex, I am confident we can have more than what we’ve allowed ourselves.

“I love you,” I pant against his mouth.

He whimpers and kisses me harder.

“I love you ,” I repeat it because he needs to know. “Please let me love you,” I beg him and pull my fingers free.