Three months later
“Zainie, no! Don’t go in there!”
Aiden ran after his kitten, but she had gotten much bigger and faster lately, and she was already in Zain’s bedroom before Aiden could catch up.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
Aiden entered the room after her and looked around. But she was nowhere to be seen. She was probably hiding under the bed again. Hopefully she’d emerge before Zain returned. He didn’t like Aiden’s kitten. To be fair, it might have something to do with Aiden naming his—very female—kitten after him in order to annoy him. Either way, Zain hated the kitten. Unfortunately, Aiden’s stupid kitten had grown to adore him.
“If Zain bitches at me because of you again, I’m going to drown you in the ocean.”
Zainie ignored him.
“You’re just as bad as Zain,” Aiden said with a sigh, sitting down on the bed.
They really were alike. Zain largely ignored him too, doing everything his own way, and deigned to touch Aiden only when it suited him.
Aiden stretched out on the bed and frowned when he glanced at the clock on the wall again.
Zain was late.
He was usually home no later than eight in the evening on Tuesdays. Not that Aiden kept track of Zain’s schedule or anything. Of course not.
Pursing his lips, Aiden turned onto his stomach and sighed.
“Aghh,” he growled into his pillow in frustration.
The pillow in question smelled good. Of course it did. It was Zain’s, and at this point, he was conditioned to Zain’s scent to a ridiculous degree. Conditioned? More like utterly addicted.
The fact that he was waiting for Zain in his room like a good little pet waiting for its owner spoke for itself.
The blame might be partly on his cat, but she wasn’t forcing him to remain here.
And yet here he was, even though he wasn’t even supposed to be in Zain’s room. Zain didn’t like having him here. He liked fucking him here well enough, but he was allergic to having Aiden around his personal space otherwise.
“I hate him,” Aiden said aloud.
The room’s silence seemed almost mocking.
“I really, really hate him,” Aiden said.
More mocking silence.
God, he was going insane if he was talking to a room. It was one thing that he talked to his cat, which was pretty pathetic in itself; talking to no one was a new low.
He had to get out of here. It wasn’t healthy in the least that his existence revolved around an emotionally unavailable man who owned him so utterly Aiden sometimes couldn’t even remember his own name. These past few months had passed in a haze of god-tier sex and pleasure, followed by lonely hours of lucidity as Aiden freaked out over how utterly pathetic this existence was.
He was basically a glorified sex doll kept under lock and key that Zain used only when he felt the urge to scratch the itch. As soon as Zain pulled out of him, he became a hard-eyed, distant stranger.
Aiden knew that this… relationship, if it even could be called that, bothered Zain even more than it bothered him. Every few weeks, Zain seemed to make an attempt to stay away from him and avoided him like the plague. Every time, that distance eventually ended with some hard, angry sex and Zain was back in his bed for a few weeks before the cycle repeated itself.
“I hate you,” Aiden whispered into Zain’s pillow, burying his face in it and hugging it hard.
He was almost glad that Zain was such a dick. How much worse would this have been if Zain hadn’t kept him at arm’s length?
Breathing in Zain’s scent, Aiden eventually drifted off.
