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Zee froze at that. “He’s gone?”
“Yes, Zee. Where’s the coffee?”
“There’s no coffee. Is he coming back tonight?”
“But you literally just said—what’s up with you? Also, what was that last night? With the whole baby thing?”
Zee threw his hands in the air, a paper towel fluttering up and then softly to the floor. “I just—he was being overly familiar.”
“He’s had his dick in my ass, Zee. I feel like we’re past familiar.”
Zee’s mouth dropped as if he hadn’t known exactly how Ishir liked to take it.
Ishir groaned, putting his head in his arms. “Make me coffee.”
There was a long pause. “Fine.”
The coffee was made, but Zee kept throwing Ishir disgruntled looks all day. He reverted to normal during practice, reverting back to surly as soon as they were home.
Ishir ignored the attitude. Zee was probably butt-hurt Ishir had slept with someone Zee hadn’t chosen—another symptom of Zee’s chronic possessiveness.
And, sure, part of Ishir liked it. He enjoyed feeling owned by Zee. Coveted. But the reality was Zee didn’t want tokeephim. He was just a child with a toy—wanting it only if someone dared to try and take it away.
Whatever bullshit Zee was going through, he could sort himself out.
“Hey,” Zee said as he flopped beside him on the couch.
Ishir grunted in reply.
“Hey,” Zee repeated, sidling closer.
“Oh, have you stopped being a baby? Oh, sorry, I forgot that word is banned in this apartment.”
Zee winced. “Okay. Sorry. I just fucking…didn’t like the guy, okay?”
“You don’t have to like the people I fuck, Zee. You realise that, right?” Ishir pointed out. “Like, I’ve fucked plenty of people you’ve never even met.”
There was that tic in Zee’s broad jaw again. “I know that,” he bit out. “I’m just trying to look after you.”
“I don’t need looking after, Zee. I’m not the scared kid I was in Juniors anymore.”
Zee regarded him intently. “Yeah. Guess not.”
Silence thickened and settled, comfortable enough to tolerate.
“What’re you watching?” Zee asked and then manoeuvred them to lie on the couch without waiting for a response, Zee plastered over Ishir.
“You’re heavy,” Ishir complained but didn’t attempt to push him off.
Despite how much of a little bitch Zee had been all day, it was comforting to have his weight over him now. Even when Zee slipped a hand under his shirt to rest on Ishir’s stomach, he didn’t do anything about it, enjoying the warmth.
In the dark, ignored recesses of his mind, a thought surfaced.You stink of him, Simon had said, as if Zee were doing it on purpose. Ishir had scoffed at the idea at the time, but here Zee was now, fingers plastered to the exact spot Simon had come on last night.
Ishir had washed, of course, but he wondered if a scent had remained. If Zee had been able to smell it. If he was rubbing it away now, claiming Ishir as his.
**********
Of course, not all of Ishir’s goals could be scored in non-hockey cities.
