L'ANGE DÉCHU- MANXBOY

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE- THE 4 Z'S

ZHAYNE DONOVAN

"Angel stop fucking crying like a bitch."

He continued to sob hysterically as I applied the ointment onto his back. I had him bent over my lap so that I had a perfect view of what needed to be done. The cuts have been healing surprisingly very well since he'd gotten the stitches taken out. A small portion of the gashes were deep enough for the bone to be visible in some spots, so I was extremely satisfied with the progress he was making. If only he didn't cause every morning a fucking challenge for me by crying over ointment, then everything would be perfect.

"I can't...I-It," he sniffles while clutching onto my thigh. "It h-hurts so bad." Angel whined, resting his head on my knee. Sighing, I pulled him further up and proceeded with what I was doing. I ignored his pleas, over his bitching. If he wants to get better then I have to do this. He has no other choice but to sit through it.

I can't help but be greatly unimpressed by how easily he can be brought to tears at times. Angel is weak. And I found that frustrating. I could have settled on helping him heal in a much more painful way like I'd initially intended but I didn't, deciding he'd had enough for now. I went easy on him because I know he couldn't take anything else, yet he's still crying.

When he tried to move away from me for the thousandth time, I felt the sudden urge to reopen the wounds all over again. Angel's body jerked forward as I brought my hand down onto his ass. I gripped the now reddening skin firmly in my hold, hard enough to make sure I was causing him pain. He gasped as I snatched him up by his neck until his ear was placed directly beside my mouth. "Angel if you move one more fucking time we will have a problem. Sit still and stop crying. You're not some fucking child."

He side eyed me, his face was still wet with tears as he shook uncontrollably but he looked away knowing better than to challenge me. I made sure to sit in silence for a couple of seconds, waiting patiently for him to speak his mind. Angel had that frustrated look on his face like he wanted to say something to me that'll get him fucked up, and I was ready for it.

Though when he said nothing after some time passed, I got back to work without a word. I kept my hand wrapped around his neck to keep his upper half straight while his lower still rested over my knee. Angel settled on hissing the entire way through, and he would dig his nails into my leg whenever I applied the ointment to a deeper cut. I could tell by the look on his flushed face that he wanted to cry again, but he knew better than to go against my word.

I brought my focus back and forth between his healing wounds and his face to make sure I saw no tears. I won't have him crying like he's some fucking childish brat. He's too old for that shit. I'd thought that he'd toughened up from spending these last couple of months with me but it seems as if that's done nothing for him. I was okay with that for the time being. Angel still has the rest of his life to spend with me. There's plenty of room for changes.

I didn't finish fixing him up until another 10 minutes had passed. When I was done, I helped Angel stand up straight. "You should have a high tolerance for pain at this point, Angel." He looked away from me, sniffling as he wiped his puffy eyes.

"That's impossible when you nearly kill me every time you hurt me Zhayne." Angel was flushing bright red.

"But I haven't killed you." I answered. "Not yet at least. You haven't pushed me to that point." I told him honestly. He went stiff as he stood between my legs.

"What's wrong with you?" He whispered, looking into my eyes as if that would give him some sort of answer.

"Nothing." I shrugged, no longer interested in this conversation. Angel sighed. "Aye," I pointed to the dresser. "Grab me a blunt and light me up." I could really go for a smoke session right now. I'm supposed to leave the house in about 10 minutes to attend a meeting my father had requested everyone show up to. But I had no intention of being on time. Usually I wouldn't even do so much as think about going, but for some reason I felt as if I should this once. Who knows? I might have a good time. I was pleased as I imagined the amount of blood that would be spilled if that were the case.