Craving His Affection [bxm]

1

"Ken! Get your ugly ass up here!" I heard my mother shout from outside my room, banging her fist against the door. I waited for the sound of her retreating footsteps before I crawled out from underneath my blanket. The tear in the mattress I slept on had grown twice in size, and I sighed as I picked at the giant whole.

I climbed to my feet and threw on my old and dusty sweater, patting it down. I only owned two pairs of pants, both too small and torn at the knees and hems, but they were better than nothing. My mother was laying on the couch in the living room, cigarette in hand. She pressed the end to her mouth, inhaling deeply before letting out a big cloud in my direction.

I coughed as the smoke tickled my lungs, trying my best not to breathe it in.

"Go buy me more beer," she demanded, handing me a wad of money. "Buy a pack of condoms while you're at it."

I nodded, pulling on a pair of shoes and heading for the door. Our neighbors in the apartment complex gave me sideway glances as I made my way down the two flights of stairs. How I dressed in winter didn't really help how they viewed me and my mom; a sweater and jeans with holes in it wasn't cold weather material, and nor were my shoes that were falling apart.

I left the apartment building and walked across the street to the gas station. The man at the counter shook his head when he saw me, a look of pity on his face as I bought the beer and condoms, showing him my ID. I was twenty-two and still lived with my prostitute mother. It wasn't really my fault; I just didn't have the money to enroll into high school or college. Instead, I checked out books from the library and learned from those.

I paid the man and took my purchase home, quietly closing the apartment door behind me. As expected, my mother was passed out, cigarette still in hand. I set the grocery bag on the counter and returned to my room, dialing my best friend's number. He answered on the third ring.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked.

I grinned, happy to finally hear his voice. "I was going to go out to the diner with Sarah tonight. Wanna come?"

"Of course I do! What kind of question is that?" Noah exclaimed, laughing.

I rolled my eyes. "Just hurry up and meet us there."

Noah chuckled. "Yes, sir!"

I hung up and stuffed my phone into my pocket. Giving my mother one last glance, I left the apartment and hurried down the flights of stairs. Sarah and Noah were waiting for me at the diner, big grins on their faces. Sarah was my girlfriend of four years. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, her lips painted red. She wore a white t-shirt and red cardigan, distressed skinny jeans, and red heels. Noah, on the other hand, wore his usual off-duty black t-shirt, jeans, and black combat boots. His black kinky hair had grown a little in length and now was half an inch long, but his curls still showed despite being short.

"There's my best bud!" he greeted, draping an arm over my shoulders. Sarah grinned, planting a kiss against my lips.

"Yeah, but he's my boyfriend," she boasted proudly.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and walked into the diner. The bright lights and yummy scents greeted us like a grandmother greeting her grandchildren. We sat in our usual booth, Noah sitting opposite of me, and Sarah taking the spot next to the aisle. The waitress came and took our orders, and we started up a conversation that lasted the entirety of our meal.

By the time we had finished, the sun had fully set. We paid for our meal and left the diner, Sarah and I walking hand-in-hand as we followed Noah to the bakery down the road. Upon opening the door, we were greeted by a chime of a bell and the scent of freshly baked bread. The special today were cinnamon rolls.

"Mm-mmm!" Noah moaned, pressing his face against the display case as he stared in awe at the sweets. He practically salivated as the man behind the counter flashed us a smile.

"What can I get you?" he asked, wiping his flour-covered hands on a towel.

Sarah beamed, pointing to the cinnamon rolls on display. "We'll take a batch of those," she answered.

The man nodded, grabbing a cute pink box and filling it with as many cinnamon rolls as he could fit. He finished with a white lace bow. "That'll be eight dollars and ninety-nine cents," he said.

Noah whipped out his wallet and paid, acting like a child on Christmas morning as the man handed him the box of sweet goodness. While Noah was busy salivating, I couldn't help but notice the way Sarah looked at the baker. Sure, he was a good looking guy. Blond hair slicked and styled to the side, sapphire blue eyes, and a dimple that even I admitted just added to his good looks. His outfit didn't help much, either. A white buttoned shirt tucked into black slacks, and a dirtied white apron.

Sarah quickly excused herself to use the restroom, leaving me with her bag. Less than a minute passed when her phone began to ring. I glanced at the caller ID, frowning in confusion.

"Hello?" I asked into the receiver.

There was a pause on the other line. "Who is this?" a man asked.

"I'm Sarah's boyfriend," I answered. "Who are you?"

Another pause.

"I'm her fiancé."

It took a moment before it dawned on me, and then it hit me like a train going full speed ahead. Is this some sick prank? I wondered, feeling my insides twist. Was this Sarah's way of getting back at me for the prank I pulled on her last April Fools?

"Are...you being serious?" I asked, silently pleading that this was indeed a prank.

"Yeah, I am. Are you?"

"Yes."

"Then...how long have you two been seeing each other?"

The question hurt. A lot.

"Four years," I answered.

"Shit!"

I flinched, feeling my heart ache. I could imagine what her fiancé was feeling.

Pain.

Hopelessness.

Betrayal.

The betrayal was what hurt the most.

"I...I'm sorry, I need to go."

When the man hung up, I pulled the phone away from my ear and turned to face the hallway leading to the restrooms. Sarah stood there, brown eyes wide. Her hands were clenched in front of her, her mouth opening and closing as if lost for words.

The bakery was eerily silent.

"Were you ever going to tell me about your fiancé?" I spat, feeling my heart ache.

Sarah stammered over her words, completely unable to defend herself.

Good, I thought.

"You bitch!" I stuffed the phone into her bag and threw it at her. Sarah caught the bag in her arms, clutching it as if she was shipwrecked and the bag was the only thing keeping her afloat. "You fucking bitch!"

I blinked, feeling my eyes burn. My vision blurred as tears surfaced, but I could make out Noah looking just as hurt as I was. Sarah betrayed me, but she hurt Noah by doing so.

"How long?!" I demanded.

"Four years," she answered immediately.

Four.

"When?"

"I met Frank at work. We...hit it off."

"And you never thought to break it off with me?" I folded my arms, afraid I'd break something.

"I--I couldn't! I love you, Kenneth..." Her eyes filled with tears.

"And Frank?" I needed to hear it. I needed her to confirm that it was true. That all of it was true.

"I love him, too."

"Get out!" I couldn't even look at her. I turned away, hearing her heels click across the hard wood floor. "Sarah?"

The clicking stopped. "Y-yes?" she asked, sounding hopeful.

"We're keeping the cinnamon rolls."