A Little Bit

Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Eli

Warren’s arms wrap around my shirtless waist while I attempt to flip the eggs. This shitty hotplate in my kitchenette is doing my minimal cooking skills no favors.

“Hey,” I complain, jerking my head away from him as he begins kissing and sucking on my neck. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to give you these mediocre eggs for breakfast.”

“Mmmm,” he hums into my skin, not trying to stop at all, making my dick fill in my sweats. “No eggs. Just feed me your dick again and we’ll be fine.”

I chuckle, whirling around to trace my eyes down his lean muscled torso, lingering on his Calvin Kleins that are currently doing nothing to hide his beast of a cock.

I pull him to me while squeezing his perfect backside, groaning when I feel his hard cock pressing against my own. I slowly roll my hips, making him gasp.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he whines while mimicking my movements, grabbing onto my ass and meeting each of my thrusts with a more eager one of his own.

We spent practically all of last night fucking and sucking each other, finding any hole in each other to finish in and drinking down the cum that leaked out. It was perfect.

I’ve never been so ravenous for another person. It doesn’t matter how long ago he’s made me come, one swipe of his tongue in my mouth and my dick immediately wants more.

I give him one last peck before gently shoving his chest away and turning back around.

“I’d love to, but my mom is coming over later so I need to feed you like a good b—” Boyfriend is on the tip of my tongue, the first sound of the word actually making it out of my mouth, before I remember myself. “Person,” I finish.

It’s kind of funny. I told him I loved him and yet I’m not sure if I should call him my boyfriend.

To be honest, I probably shouldn’t have said I loved him either, but it just kind of slipped out. He was staring at me, those beautiful, broken blue eyes glittering with all the shadows he harbors inside of him. After seeing what he did to himself—how he hurt himself—he needed to know. That no matter what he thinks, he deserves more than the lies his mind shouts at him. He deserves the world and I want to be the one to give it to him—if I even can.

It killed me not to hear it back from him, but he’s obviously got a lot more shit going on inside than I knew. He needs to focus on that first. I’ll gladly stand to the side and wait whatever amount of time I need to.

The fact that that is even true, blows my mind. Who am I? A few months ago, I would have fucking laughed in your face if you told me I’d be fawning over some guy, promising him the world, sticking with him despite all the reasons not to. And yet, here I am. Desperately in love with someone I can’t have.

I plate up the eggs as prettily as I can, shrugging because they definitely look like shit.

But when I turn around to present the terrible breakfast to him, he’s got a look of pure panic on his face.

He absently takes the eggs from me, sitting down on the couch while staring at nothing.

“Maybe I should go,” he mutters with an edge in his voice, standing and shoving the plate back at me.

“Why?”

“Uh, just because of your mom.”

“No,” I say, giving him the plate back. “She won’t be here for a few hours.”

He nods before sitting back down silently, then plasters this really weird smile on his face. It’s tight and all wrong on his features. “I’ll just eat and get out of here.”

“Okaaaay,” I reply, drawing out the word. “But like I said, she told me she won’t be here for a few hours.”

He doesn’t say anything back to that, just begins pushing food in his face, but it’s bizarre looking, like he’s not chewing, just swallowing it all whole.

He must be worried about running into her. The whole “I’m still in the closet” thing. But I’ll make sure he’s out before she gets here.

In the meantime, I’ve been wanting to share something with him. Something I don’t share with a lot of people. Something I guard with everything I have because it fucking hurts to utter to anyone else.

But… I want him to know. I want to give him all of my parts. Even the painful ones.

Maybe this is the perfect time—to get his mind off whatever closeted, gay panic is going on in his head.

I clear my throat, swallowing my nerves. “Today is a big day for her,” I start, eyes trained on my hands fidgeting in my lap. “Something… happened here, and ever since then, my mom hasn’t been able to come back.”

He goes completely still next to me.

I continue, “My sister was here for?—”

I’m interrupted by a heavy sob from Warren. The sound hits me right in the chest, diving right through my skin to constrict around my heart. I don’t fucking like it at all.

“Warren. Baby.” I scoot closer to him as he holds his face in his hands, hoarsely crying while his chest moves in uneven breaths. “Baby, what’s going on?”

“I can’t,” he barely chokes out, agony laced in every word he gives me. “I can’t anymore. I need to?—”

A cheerful knock sounds at the door, making both of us freeze.

“Eli? Honey?” my mom’s voice calls out.

“Shit,” I hiss. “That’s my mom. She said she wouldn’t be here until later.”

He abruptly stands next to me, sending the cheap plastic plate scattering across the floor, rubbery eggs bouncing off and soiling the shitty carpet.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, immediately bending down to frantically scoop the eggs off the floor and into the trash can.

“Warren,” I say as gently as possible, crouching next to him and grabbing his shoulders. I squeeze them until he looks up at me. “Listen, just relax. I’m not going to introduce you guys or anything. Just go in my room and get dressed. I’ll take my mom and show her around campus or something and you can sneak out after we leave.”

He nods, that same panicked look on his beautiful face. I grab his cheeks and try to tenderly rub it away with my thumbs. “Don’t worry, baby,” I whisper, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “I got you. Now, go in my room.”

Mutely nodding again, he stands and follows my orders, shutting the door behind him.

I find a shirt laying on the back of my couch and pull it quickly over my head, padding over to the door and whipping it open.

“Mom,” I say exuberantly, a huge smile on my face and my arms open wide.

She immediately hugs me, extra hard and lovingly like only she can.

“I’m here,” she whispers, emotion clogging her voice.

“I knew you could do it, Mom.”

She extracts herself from me, wiping her tears away with a smile on her face.

“It really is beautiful here,” she says and then looks around me at my messy living situation. Her face contorts in disgust. “But not in here! Eli, honey. This is disgusting. You need to pick up more,” she chastises.

I shrug and offer her my best apologetic look. “I was thinking I could show you around a bit—maybe go eat breakfast somewhere.”

She nods, while going around and making a pile of my dirty clothes. “Sounds good, honey.” She shakes her head and scoffs, pointing at the floor. “Are these eggs on the floor?!” she practically squeals.

“Uh, yeah. Unfortunately,” I answer with shame heating my face. “Just don’t clean anymore, Mom. Let me grab a jacket and my wallet then we’ll go.”

She’s still muttering and complaining to herself as I crack open my bedroom door and slip in, shutting it behind me.

Warren immediately stands, now fully dressed and shifting from foot to foot as I walk over to him. “I’m leaving,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his middle and pulling his jittery body to mine, lowering my hands to give his ass another squeeze. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

He swallows. His whole body vibrating like he’s trying to contain something. Probably all the nerves about almost getting caught. “Okay,” he answers meekly.

I smile and kiss his lips, slipping my tongue in for just a moment because I have to taste him if I won’t get to see him for hours. Some of the tension melts out of his body as he gives into me, feeding me his tongue and letting out a little moan.

“Honey, I was actually thinking—” my mom says as she walks through my door. We both turn to look at her, my hands still grasped onto his ass.

Warren steps away from me.

Mom’s eyes go wide as she clutches her chest. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you had company, Eli.” She turns her attention to Warren, walking toward him with her hand stretched out while he shakes like a leaf. “Hi. I’m Melanie, Eli’s mom. It’s so nice to?—”

She cuts off her sentence and scrunches her face, examining his features.

Some type of recognition passes over her.

She stands there for a few moments just staring at him with her hand sticking out in the air, face frozen.

Then she lunges at him.

She shrieks, her arms flying while Warren helplessly covers his face from her blows. She’s clawing at him, absolutely feral. And I am somehow rooted to the floor, watching, because my brain can’t process what the hell is wrong with her.

Snapping out of my trance, I grab her by the shoulders, trying like hell to peel her off of him, but she’s fighting me so hard, trying to get to him any way she can.

“Mom! What the hell!?” I bellow, finally getting her away from him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Warren chants, having fallen back onto my bed as tears stream down his face.

I give him a puzzled look as my chest heaves from all the adrenaline. “Why are you apologizing?”

A bad feeling slithers its way into my belly. A really bad one. A feeling that tells me everything is about to fall apart.

He says nothing—guilt overtaking his whole face while tears continue to track down his cheeks.

I look over at my mom, bent over and gulping air, face red from exertion.

“Mom. What’s going on?” I bark, irritated that no one will just say what the fuck is happening.

She straightens, looking right at Warren with the most hate I’ve ever seen radiating off of her.

“He killed your sister.”