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Ishir closed his eyes, imagining it. Some faceless person telling him,your pleasure belongs to me. If I don’t tell you to come, you don’t come.
It’d be so fucking good to follow someone’s orders. To begood.
“Ishir.”
Ishir’s eyes snapped open, surprised by his name. Not Zam, or Zammy, or Zam Zam.
Zee was staring at him, inches away. His expression, intense and hunting, hit Ishir in the gut.
Ishir breathed in shakily, the suddenness of Zee’s proximity, the way his scent flared, knocking his feet from under him.
“Why Simon?” Zee’s voice was quiet but demanding. “What the fuck could he give you right now?”
Ishir opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “I just need…it helps me feel centred.”
“Whatmakes you feel centred?”
Ishir shook his head, flush heating in his cheeks.
“Say it. Come on. What does he do to you that you like so much?”
“He fucks me.” The words burst out of him, cracked open, spilling forth.
“Yeah? Doesn’t even let you come, and you want it that bad?”
“Yeah.” This time, it was defiant. Ishir could feel a thrumming in his ears, his brain, his chest.
They regarded each other in silence. The air was stinging to the touch. Zee opened his mouth. “I can do that for you,” he said.
There were too many feelings cutting through Ishir—fragments of emotions, sparks in the dark.
The brightest one was anger.
Ishir tapped at the scent gland on his neck irritably. “I’m a fucking Alpha, Zee, or have you forgotten that?” This wasn’t a phone call in the night. This was skin on skin, body with body. There was no hiding from their dynamic this time.
“Yeah, Zammy. I know.”
Ishir scoffed. This couldn’t be happening like this. A drunken mistake, or a series of circumstances after a goal, yeah. But Ishir needing to be fucked without coming?
That wasn’t enough of a reason for Zee to do this.
“Come on,” Ishir spit out. “This isn’t a game, Zee. What if I told you I wanted someone to fuck my face? To jerk me off nice and slow and not let me come? I know what we’ve been doing has been…crossing some lines. But this is different.”
Zee didn’t say anything. Ishir blew out a breath and got up, but a hand yanked him down. “I can give you what you want.”
“Zee, this isn’t, like, a favour you do for someone. This is—”
Zee grabbed his face and shook him roughly, stunning him into silence. “I can give you what you want.”
A lone memory surfaced in the tumultuous waters of his mind. The day Zee had confessed to feeling insecure, saying he was only good at hockey. Ishir had said, ‘You’re loyal, you’re sweet’, and Zee had replied, ‘With you, maybe.’
There were a lot of things Zee was withhim. Kind, sure. Devoted. But he was possessive, too. A jealous Alpha wanting to mark what was his.
Ishir could be shocked by this sudden side of Zee, but the truth was that it had been bubbling under the surface for a long time.
All the anger from the string of losses and, deeper still, from wanting Zee and not having him, spilt over.
Ishir leaned forwards and kissed his best friend.
