What It Looks Like

Chapter 1-2

Rob was already dressed when Eli snuck back in from the shower. Sitting on the edge of Eli’s bed, he was shrugging into the T-shirt he’d worn to the pub the previous night, probably still stinking of beer and barbecue chicken wings.

“You could start leaving clothes here, you know,” Eli chided, kissing the top of his head before rummaging for his own clothes.

Rob’s answer was to resoundly smack his arse. The blow stung, and Eli bit his lip against the jolt of red-hot pleasure.

“Hey!”

Rob rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands. He openly watched Eli dress, the scrutiny both a little embarrassing, and a lot arousing.

“That’s not fair,” Eli grumbled. “You can f*****g turn me on by looking at me, and I can’t even walk straight.”

Rob offered him a toothy grin.

Eli huffed.

“Mean,” he whispered, bending to kiss the smile away.

“Eli!” a voice bellowed up the stairs. “I want that—vehicle moved!”

Eli rolled his eyes.Rob guffawed. “f*****g coppers,” he rasped.

Rob had a very deep, very hoarse voice, like the rumble of a gravelly engine, and it drove Eli crazy. If Rob was a voice actor, Eli wouldn’t be able to watch any of his films for fear of having a f*****g orgasm in the cinema. As it was, he seized Rob’s face and kissed him hungrily, tugging Rob’s bottom lip between his teeth in a vicious bite until the tang of blood warned him off.

“I suppose you have to go?” he whispered.

“Uh-huh,” Rob said, both hands clasping the very tops and backs of Eli’s thighs, right under his arse. It was oddly more intimate than if Rob had just groped a cheek and been done with it. “s**t to do.”

“See you later? Or tomorrow maybe?”

“Eli!”

“Tell him to f**k off,” Rob grumbled, and stood.

Eli didn’t back up, and ended up draped over Rob’s front.

“Mm, no.” He kissed Rob’s stubbled jaw before stepping away and shrugging on a T-shirt. “Okay, okay. Come on, then, out the door.”

Rob cut a huge and rough-edged figure in Eli’s family home. The house was all white carpets, white walls, and expensive decorations of no use but a lot of worth scattered on various shelves. They had doilies, for goodness’ sake—a man wearing yesterday’s clothes, hair on end, and smelling like the floor of a dive bar didn’t fit in.

Especially not under the glower of the man standing at the bottom of the stairs, in full, gleaming uniform.

“Dad,” Eli said warningly. Then, as an afterthought: “Rob.”

Both ignored him.

“What?” Rob demanded aggressively.

Chief Inspector Samuel Bell’s lips tightened.

“Your…car…is blocking the end of my driveway,” he said coldly.

“Musta been when I drunk-parked it,” Rob returned flippantly.

Eli huffed and gave Rob a shove in the back towards the front door.

“Lay off, Dad,” he ordered, shoving Rob outside. “And don’t antagonise him.”

“Bloke’s a f*****g t**t,” Rob grumbled, but rolled his eyes and softened under Eli’s scowl. “Alright, alright. Jesus.”

“Get yourself gone,” Eli scolded, walking Rob to his battered old 4x4. It was a Suzuki Jimny from the late nineties, and about as respectable on their tidy suburban street as Rob himself. Eli loved that car.

“Alright,” Rob said, swinging himself into the driver’s seat. It took two goes to slam the door, then he wound the window down and caught Eli’s chin in one huge hand to kiss him soundly. “You still up for coming to Scotland for Christmas with me and Danny?”

“Yep,” Eli said, smiling against the press of Rob’s finger and thumb. He darted back in for another kiss.

“Tart. You’ve scratched holes in my shoulders.”

“You love it.”

“I f*****g do an’ all,” Rob agreed, and that belligerent face eased into a wide, crooked grin. “Call you later, babe.”

Eli smacked his hand. “Babe? f**k off, savage.”

Rob laughed and started the engine. The Suzuki jerked and rolled backwards a little before realising it had an accelerator, and then it and Rob were gone in a clattering cacophony of metal and smoke. Eli stood at the end of the drive, one hand absently rubbing at the deep bite-mark Rob had left in his neck, and smiling like a fool.

“Eli! I need to go to work.”

Eli sighed, and moved aside to let his father’s BMW out of the drive. Not that his father had even gotten into the thing yet—he was still standing, brass and all, in the open doorway.

“I don’t like that man,” Dad said firmly as Eli approached.

Eli didn’t much care. He’d heard it all before, and right now, his priority was going back to bed for a few hours before getting up and going to work for the afternoon. So his response was as flippant as Rob’s, though not—quite—as rude.

“Tough,” he said. “Because I do.”