The days that followed J.M.'s sudden departure from Eli's apartment were filled with a strange emptiness. Eli tried to fill the silence, the quiet space that seemed to echo with J.M.'s presence. But no matter what he did no matter how hard he tried to focus on work, on friends, on anything else J.M. lingered at the edges of his thoughts.
It was a slow burn. The way he felt, the way his mind kept returning to that moment, that subtle brush of J.M.'s fingers against his skin. Every time he thought about it, his chest tightened, his pulse quickened.
He hated it. Hated the way J.M. had wormed his way into his life, into his head, and how he could never seem to shake the thought of him.
Eli spent his nights tossing and turning, fighting the urge to reach for his phone and check for a message, an email, anything that would prove J.M. had been thinking about him too. But he didn't. He kept his hands busy with work, his mind occupied with meaningless distractions, anything to push J.M. to the back of his mind.
But it never lasted.
And then, like clockwork, on the fifth day after J.M.'s departure, Eli received the message.
It was simple. Short.
"I'm outside."
His heart raced. His hands trembled slightly as he read the words, his mind spiraling into chaos. No, he had told himself that he was done with this. He had told himself that he would be strong. That he would move on, no matter what.
But the truth was undeniable.
J.M. wasn't letting him go.
Eli tried to convince himself that he didn't want to go to the door. He tried to tell himself that he should ignore it, that he was better than this, better than falling back into J.M.'s trap. But the moment the doorbell rang, he was already standing up, moving toward it as though his feet were acting on their own.
When he opened the door, J.M. was standing there, a quiet smile on his lips, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.
"I thought you might be busy," J.M. said, his voice light, almost teasing. But Eli noticed the slight edge to his words, the undertone that wasn't quite as casual as it seemed.
Eli stood there for a moment, his throat tight, before he could finally form words. "What do you want, J.M.?"
J.M.'s eyes glinted with amusement. "What I want?" He stepped forward, leaning in so close that Eli could feel the heat radiating off of him. "I want you. I've told you this before, haven't I?"
Eli froze, his breath catching in his throat. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to respond. The force of J.M.'s presence was almost overwhelming.
"I told you I'm not interested in you," Eli said, though it felt like a lie even as the words left his mouth. "You need to leave."
But J.M. didn't step back. He didn't retreat. Instead, his smile deepened, his eyes darkening with something far more intense.
"You're lying again," J.M. said quietly. "You don't want me to leave. You've been waiting for me to come back, haven't you?"
Eli's chest tightened. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.
"No," Eli said, more to himself than to J.M. "I don't need this. I don't need you."
J.M.'s eyes softened, but the smile never left his face. He reached out and gently touched Eli's arm, his fingers cold but steady against Eli's heated skin.
"You do," he said. "Whether you admit it or not. I've been patient, Eli. But I'm not going to wait forever."
Eli's body tensed under J.M.'s touch. The last thing he wanted was to feel this conflicted, this drawn to someone who made him question everything he believed about himself. But J.M. had that effect on him, didn't he? He had a way of breaking down Eli's defenses without even trying.
The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken tension. Eli couldn't bring himself to move, to pull away. It was like he was caught in some kind of gravitational pull that he couldn't resist.
J.M. was right. He had been waiting. Waiting for him to come back. Waiting for this moment, even if he hated to admit it.
The air in the room felt heavy now, charged with something Eli couldn't quite grasp. His eyes flickered toward J.M.'s lips before he quickly looked away, as though that one glance had burned him. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
"You're wrong," Eli muttered, more to himself than to J.M. He hated how his voice wavered. He hated how weak it sounded.
J.M.'s hand slid from his arm, slowly, purposefully, to rest just under Eli's chin, lifting his face so that their eyes locked. The touch was delicate, almost reverent, but there was something undeniably possessive about it too.
"Am I?" J.M. asked softly, his gaze unwavering.
Eli opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. How could he say anything now? How could he deny what was so clearly in his heart?
"You're not getting away that easily, Eli," J.M. murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against Eli's skin. "We both know you don't want me to leave."
Eli's pulse quickened, and before he could stop himself, his breath hitched.
"I don't need you," Eli said again, but his voice was weaker this time.
J.M. smiled, that dangerous, knowing smile that seemed to hold every secret Eli didn't want to admit.
"You do," J.M. whispered. "And I'll make sure you realize it."
Eli's heart slammed in his chest. He wanted to push him away. He wanted to slam the door in J.M.'s face and forget all of this. But the more J.M. spoke, the more Eli felt himself drawn to him.
It was as though J.M. had cast some kind of spell over him, and no matter how hard he tried to fight it, he couldn't break free.
J.M. moved closer, his face now inches from Eli's. "I don't play games, Eli. Not with you. So, let me ask you this are you going to keep lying to yourself? Or are you going to admit what you really want?"
Eli's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. But most of all, he wanted to give in. To let J.M. have him.
"I…" Eli started, but the words wouldn't come. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Couldn't bring himself to admit that he was falling into the trap J.M. had set for him.
J.M. leaned in, his lips brushing against Eli's ear in a way that sent sparks of heat racing through his veins.
"We both know what you want, Eli," J.M. whispered, his voice thick with promise. "And I'm not leaving until you admit it."
Eli closed his eyes.