Chapter 3

Alem moved through the quiet bedroom with a methodical, rhythmic patience, dragging a damp mop over the polished floorboards and sweeping away the fine dust clinging to the baseboards, entirely shadowed by his stepbrother.

​The floorboards groaned beneath Caeden’s restless pacing. Every turn Alem took, every shift toward a muted corner, Caeden matched. The air hung thick with unsaid things, heavy with the humid scent of lemon-scented oil and sweat, until the silence stretched thin enough to snap.

​"Alem, I need you to listen to me! I did not want that to happen earlier, when we were wrestling over my sock!"

​Alem did not pause. He merely gathered the rags, the bristled brushes, and the heavy plastic bucket he had carried from room to room over the past three hours. His knuckles were pale against the bucket handle, his posture steady despite the relentless, hovering presence that had tracked his every footprint across the house.

​"Alem!"

​Alem finally set the bucket down with a dull thud. He straightened his back, wiping a sheen of moisture from his forehead with the back of his forearm, his eyes fixing on the frantic figure blocking his path.

​"Caeden, would you please stop tracking my every footstep? You are attached to my side like a shadow that refuses to bleed into the dark!"

​Caeden’s chest heaved as he sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, clutching his own biceps as if to hold himself together. His heart hammered a wild rhythm against his ribs. The urge to scrub the memory clean from Alem’s mind was a burning desperation, a desperate bid for the silent promise that none of this would ever reach the manicured lawns or echoing hallways of Hilton University.

​"I just need you to understand," Caeden rasped, his voice rising, sharp and fragile all at once. "I am not gay, alright?!"

​Alem’s lips twitched, pressing tightly together to suppress the sudden amusement threatening to break through. He shook his head slowly, a low, quiet motion of disbelief that made Caeden’s blood run hot.

​"Alem, I am serious! I am not!"

​When Alem picked up his supplies and retreated into the narrow sanctuary of the adjoining bathroom, the hollow click of plastic buckets echoing against the damp tile, Caeden pushed through the doorway right behind him. The small space forced them close again, the air suddenly too tight, too shared.

​"You had a full erection pressed against another man's body, and you still stand there trying to tell me you are not gay?" Alem’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, a sharp sound of absolute dismissal. He tilted his head, his gaze cool, unbothered, and entirely unreadable as he met Caeden's wide, frantic eyes. "Listen to me, Caeden Lorcan. Whether you are attracted to men or not is something I could not possibly care less about. But if you are truly as straight as you claim, why are you tearing yourself apart trying to defend it?"

Alem squeezed sideways through the narrow gap of the bathroom doorway, his shoulders brushing the frame as he maneuvered around the solid barrier of his stepbrother. He halted just inches away, his gaze locking onto Caeden with an unyielding intensity that hung heavy in the damp air.

​They retreated into the shared bedroom, where Alem dropped onto the far corner of the mattress. Without a word, he unzipped his heavy luggage and set to work. Hands moved with practiced precision, sorting fabric into meticulous mounds across the duvet. Cotton shorts fell into one neat pile; tailored trousers lined up beside structured polos and casual tees. Undergarments were divided with methodical care, silk boxer briefs separated from standard cuts, lounge wear isolated from street clothes. Caeden remained rooted in place, leaning against the wall, his eyes tracking every sharp, rhythmic movement of his stepbrother’s hands.

​Alem snapped. He threw down a neatly folded shirt and whipped his head around, his chest heaving under his breath. "Caeden Lorcan, what on earth is your problem? Can you just sit down or find something else to do instead of tracking my every single move with those hawk eyes?"

​Caeden met the sudden outburst with a cold, steady stare. The heat from their earlier encounter had vanished completely from Alem's demeanor, replaced only by sheer irritation.

​Caeden straightened up, towering over the foot of the bed, his voice dropping into a harsh, warning whisper. "I am making absolute sure you do not spread filth around Hilton University, or anywhere else on this planet, Alem. If that mouth of yours slips even a fraction of an inch to hint that I might be gay, I swear I will make sure your tongue ends up black and blue."

​Alem let out a dry, incredulous laugh, shaking his head as he reached for another pair of pants. "I told you already, Caeden, I could not care less about your sexuality. What ticked me off was you getting off right my behind. It felt violating, plain and simple. But I am over it now. So do me a favor, open up your side of the wardrobe so I can finally finish putting my clothes away."

​The tension coiled in Caeden's chest began to loosen. A slow breath seeped from his lungs, taking the immediate threat with it. Still needing to maintain control, he cleared his throat with a deliberate rumble to shatter the remaining stillness. Bending down, he slid open the bottom drawer beneath the bedframe, retrieved a small brass key, and unlocked the empty half of the mahogany wardrobe, throwing the carved doors wide open.

​He stood near the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at the perfectly arranged clothes of Alem. "What do you want to eat?"

​Alem didn't look up from his packing. "I am doing one meal a day right now, Caeden."

​"Forget your stupid diet for once," Caeden snapped, though the edge in his voice had softened into something almost familiar. "Food is on me. Just tell me what you want and I will order it right now."

​Alem paused, a half-folded sweater hovering in his hands, before he let out a defeated sigh. "If you are going to force the issue, I want potato cheese balls and a large pizza. Toss in some pineapple juice while you are at it."

​Caeden gave a single nod, pulling his phone from his pocket as he tapped through the delivery app. Within twenty minutes, the glare of headlights swept across the bedroom curtain, followed by a faint rumble downstairs. Caeden headed down to retrieve the warm paper bags, carrying the greasy scent of melted cheese back up the carpeted stairs. He rapped his knuckles gently against the dark wood of the door, waiting until Alem pulled it open from the inside.

​They sat on the floor with the spread of food between them, the initial venom between them dissolving into the quiet crunch of crusts and the rustle of greasy cardboard. A sudden, loud burp escaped Alem's lips, breaking the silence.

​Caeden set his slice down, wiping his hands on a paper napkin as a small, triumphant smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I figure we are square now, Alem. No more talk about what happened behind your back."

​Alem stopped chewing and raised his chin, his dark eyes fixing onto Caeden. Instead of firing back, he delivered a slow, deliberate wink, his eyes glittering with a sudden, mischievous light.