Excellent — here is Part 3 of your dark, slow-burn erotic story. This chapter explo
Part 3: Dangerous Comfort
The week passed slowly.
Eli lingered more often in the open doorway of Aaron's gym. He didn't speak much, just watched — legs tucked under him, hoodie sleeves covering his hands like a child's.
Aaron never asked him to leave.
He told himself it was fine. That the boy wasn't hurting anyone. But something in him shifted each time he saw Eli's eyes follow the flex of his arms, the way his chest rose with each breath, the curve of his back as he finished a deadlift.
And sometimes — when Eli thought he wasn't being watched — he would lick his lower lip, almost absently.
Aaron hated how much he noticed.
It was Friday night when Mia came home with drinks and a paper bag full of takeout. She was in a bright mood, laughing, pressing her cold hands against Eli's cheeks and demanding cuddles on the couch. They curled up together under a blanket while Aaron watched from the recliner, nursing a beer.
He couldn't look away.
Eli leaned against Mia's shoulder, smiling softly, eyes half-lidded. His bare legs rested across her lap, and his fingers traced idle circles on her thigh.
Aaron felt something flicker in his chest. It wasn't quite anger. But it burned.
"You two comfortable?" he muttered.
Mia laughed. "Of course. This couch is heaven. Why? You want in?" she teased.
Aaron forced a chuckle. "Hard pass."
Eli looked at him over Mia's shoulder — eyes locking for half a second. That smile again. A secret smile. A dangerous one.
Aaron drained the bottle and stood up.
"Don't make a mess."
Later that night, Aaron went to the kitchen for water.
Eli was already there.
Again.
Wearing a white crop top and sleep shorts that rode too high on his thighs. His back was to Aaron, his delicate spine framed like a ribbon under skin. He was reaching for a glass in the cupboard, standing on his toes.
Aaron froze for a moment.
Just one moment.
"You always up late?" he asked, stepping inside.
Eli turned. "Bad sleeper," he said.
Aaron moved closer, grabbing a glass of his own. Their shoulders brushed again. Bare skin. Electric.
"You always wear that around the house?" Aaron asked.
Eli blinked. "Why? Does it bother you?"
Aaron said nothing.
Eli stepped closer — just a breath of space between them.
"You said we could relax here," he said. "You don't want us to leave, right?"
Aaron's jaw clenched. "No."
Eli tilted his head, studying him. "Then why do you look like you're trying to scare me off?"
Aaron looked at him — at the soft lines of his face, the faint pout in his lips, the way his lashes fluttered when he blinked.
"I'm not," he said hoarsely. "I'm trying not to think."
Eli smiled. "About what?"
Aaron didn't answer.
Eli leaned in. Just slightly. Just enough.
"I won't tell her," he whispered.
Then he left. Quiet as a shadow.
Aaron stood in the kitchen alone, heart hammering in his ears, the air thick with something unspoken and irreversible.
The next morning, Mia was at the table eating cereal while Eli stood barefoot at the counter, making coffee. He was humming again, wearing one of Aaron's old gym tanks — too big, but somehow perfect on him.
Aaron stopped in the hallway, just for a second, watching.
The domesticity of it all felt… intimate.
Too intimate.
"You always wear my stuff now?" he asked, stepping in.
Eli smiled. "It was clean. Smelled nice."
Mia turned to glance at them, eyes flicking between her brother and her boyfriend. Something flashed across her face. A crease in her brow. Faint, but there.
Aaron caught it.
Eli must have, too.
"I'll return it after laundry," Eli said innocently, sipping from a mug with both hands. "Or would you rather I take it off now?"
Mia choked slightly on her cereal.
Aaron looked away.
He didn't answer.
That evening, Mia went out to meet a friend for dinner.
Aaron came home late, body sore, sweat still clinging to his back from the gym.
Eli was on the couch, legs folded beneath him, reading. The tank top was gone — replaced by a thin-knit long-sleeve that hugged his soft body just enough.
"You're back," Eli said softly, setting his book aside.
"You're alone," Aaron said.
"I like quiet sometimes."
Aaron sat down beside him. Close. Closer than usual.
They didn't speak for a while.
The TV played something neither of them watched.
Then Eli whispered, "You never touch me."
Aaron stiffened. "You're with my sister."
Eli turned his head, voice velvet-soft. "That never stopped people like you before."
Aaron looked at him. Really looked.
The soft curves. The innocent face. The barely veiled hunger beneath it.
"I'm not people like that," Aaron said, but his voice lacked conviction.
Eli leaned in — not close enough to kiss, but enough to let Aaron feel his breath.
"No," he whispered. "You're worse."
Then he got up, padded toward the hallway in silence.
Aaron watched him go.
He didn't stop him.
He didn't leave the couch for a long time either.
[To Be Continued — In Part 4, Mia starts noticing changes. Eli continues to blur the line between victim and temptress. Aaron grows protective and dangerously possessive, even toward Mia.]