"You think you're clever, don't you?" Silas scoffed, arms crossed over that stupidly broad chest, his face taut with disapproval and something else Eli couldn’t name."I know I am." Eli leaned back against the cold stone wall, letting his smirk curl slow and lazy. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know. That mouth says ‘celibacy’ but your eyes keep saying ‘fuck me.’”Silas stepped forward. One step. Two. His robe swayed with each precise movement. His voice was a blade, slicing through the air. “You’re wrong. I never was a homosexual. And unlike you, I was born into the monastic order. Raised in it. I don’t understand what sexual gratification means.”Eli snorted. “Bullshit.”“Temptation means nothing to me,” Silas continued, unshaken. “I was taught to overcome the body. Lust, desire—none of it has power over me.”Eli cocked his head, the heat in his chest getting harder to ignore. “You're scared.”The monk’s right eye twitched. “I am not afraid.”“No?” Eli pushed off the wall, closing
The water clung to their skin as they stepped out of the river, dripping and shivering slightly, the fading sun kissing the horizon behind the trees. Cassian, still very much naked, walked ahead with the confidence of someone who hadn’t a shred of shame, dressing up along their way while Eli trailed behind, already fully dressed, his cheeks pink with the aftershock of everything that had happened.They found their way back through the hidden path Cassian had shown earlier. A narrow trail through thick brush, nearly invisible if you didn’t know it was there. At the mouth of the monastery grounds, they paused. The sky above was turning indigo. Eli was about to speak—to set things right, to tell Cassian the kiss hadn’t meant the same to him—but the other boy turned, grinned, and leaned in, planting another kiss right on Eli's lips.His mouth was warm and a little wet from the swim tasting faintly of river water and that wild berry he picked and handed to Eli too.As Eli made to shove him
Cassian’s secret spot was more of a miracle than a hideout. Hidden behind a weaving path through the fogged woods and jagged rocks, the clearing opened into a secluded river bend cradled by soft slopes and wild grass. The water was dark and cool, clear enough to reflect the hot sun like shattered glass. No sounds of the monastery reached them here. Only the gentle bubbling of the stream, birdsong, and the breeze catching in the tall reeds.Eli slowed to a stop, catching his breath, sweat dampening his collar. “You dragged me all the way here for this?”Cassian grinned, already pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside like a boy escaping Sunday school. “For this,” he echoed. “You looked like your head was going to blow up back there. Besides, this is way fucking better than the showers on sunday”Eli scoffed, crossing his arms as he watched Cassian unbuckle his belt. “You’re crazy. That water looks dirty as hell.”“Maybe.” Cassian wiggled his brows, then dropped his pants and boxers
Eli’s heart was still racing from the warning that the monk had whispered in his ear—“Be careful around Silas.” It played on repeat like some cursed mantra, echoing in his skull even as he stepped into the stone-cold room for his “spiritual rehabilitation.”His heart slammed against his rib in surprise when he saw Silas was standing at the center of the room.He was so tall, he towered over Eli and Eli necessarily wasn’t a small dude. Heaving a sigh, he swept his gaze over that monastic robe doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that God had clearly spent a little extra time sculpting him. Eli’s eyes involuntarily dragged down the man’s frame, lingering at his hands. Long, precise fingers. Hands that had grabbed his throat yesterday, well, maybe not in real life. But those hands, in his dream, had made him forget where the hell he was.Fuck, he was terrified, dreading another punishment. Was that all what their sessions would entail? Punishing Eli for being a homosexual? And as fu
`And lead us not into temptations…”Eli woke up with a strangled gasp, sweat gluing the thin bed sheets to his back. Again his thighs were sticky and his heart was beating loud enough to drown out everything else, especially the clanging of that motherfucking bell. The room was pitch black, but felt really humid. Fuck.It was that dream again.He squeezed his eyes shut as his chest thudded. This time it hadn’t been in a dark room and Eli wasn’t on his knees. It had happened in his cell. His fucked up dream had started again with him bound at the wrist, a leather rope biting across his skin. He had been laying flat on his back, his robes pulled up, cock stiff and exposed to the cool air. He’d been masturbating, stroking himself and panting heavily while imagining…..he didn’t want to admit it but Silas. The monk whose eyes seemed to judge him with every glance.And in the dream, Silas had actually appeared, materializing by the foot of Eli’s cot. His eyes face was impassive as always,
They walked in silence through the darkened halls, their footsteps almost silent against the cold stone floors. Prior Dominic’s sandals made a gentle shuffling sound while Eli’s bare feet was quiet. He kept his hands tucked in front of him, head bowed while trying not to let his nerves show. But it was pointless. He felt them bleeding out through his pores, drenching his skin in anxiety.When they reached the door, the same dark wooden one from yesterday, Prior Dominic came to a halt. His voice was calm and distant as he said. “This will be the last time I accompany you here, Eli. I have other matters of great urgency to attend to.”Eli looked up at him, a little started. “Oh?”“From now on, every evening, from seven to nine, you are to report here for your spiritual rehabilitation. No excuses. Understood?”Eli’s throat felt like a lump formed in it. His heart thumped wildly against his ribs as though it were trying to break free. Why he was freaking out, he had no idea, however he cr
Eli woke up with a violent jolt, his breath catching in his throat. A bell was ringing so incessantly and loud, that it felt as though it was clanging right beside his head.But when his eyes adjusted to the dark, still room, he was alone and there was no bell next to his head. It must be that bell at the gate clanging so fucking loudly. He lay there, blinking through the haze of sleep, only to groan when he felt the slick stickiness of his boxers clinging to his thighs.Fuck…His hand darted down, finding the unmistakable mess drying on his skin. His black boxers were soaked in sweat and fuck, was that cum?He'd had wet dreams before, sure. But nothing like this; that left his skin tingling, his body oversensitive, and his chest heaving like he'd run miles all through the night.It had felt so real.---He was on his knees with his arms yanked behind his back and his wrists bound in rough cord. His skin stung from it, but the pain made him burn in an entirely new way alien to him.
Eli stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror and barely recognized himself. Frowning, he leaned in closer, taking in the raw, shaved skin of his head. They’d literally just scraped him clean like he was some prisoner. His thick, dark hair, which Eli took really great care of, was just gone like that. And now, he was swaddled in this itchy, beige robe that made him feel like a cult member or a reject from a biblical drama.He tilted his head left, and then right, before blowing out a frustrated breath. “I look like a damn egg,” he muttered to himself.Also, the baldness did something weird to his face. His cheekbones were highlighted, and they made his eyes pop, looking like large saucers on his face. At least two years had been taken off his age. He looked younger, softer…sorta, helpless. Ugh, fuck he hated this. He looked like a high school freshman playing monk for Halloween.With a sigh, Eli turned away from the mirror and walked towards the cell door, flicking the sliding th
Three days later, or four, depending on who was keeping time through the shitty fog in that woods, Eli stood in front of the monastery’s tall iron gate, soaked through with sweat and still shivering from cold. He was so covered in dirt and leaves, he looked like a feral creature that’d clawed out of a mud pit, which precisely was what had happened when he’d slipped. Eli still didn’t know how he made it out alive. His boots were caked with mud, and his limbs ached like hell from the last stretch of climbing. The hike had nearly killed him. At least twice. He’d eaten moss at one point. Moss. and there’d been that one night where he’d climbed a tree and pissed himself halfway up when he saw a snake camouflaged to match the tree’s bark. He was not made for this life. At all.Gritting his teeth, Eli shook out of the horrific memory of his journey and glanced back at the gate. It was enormous, weathered, and framed by crumbling stone columns that looked older than time itself. A tarnished b