ETHAN'S HELL[alpha×alpha]

chapter 4

Chapter 4

The shrill blare of the alarm went off.

Ethan fumbled blindly toward the nightstand until his fingers found the noisy device, shutting it down. He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, and pressed his fingers against his temples, which were throbbing violently. He woke up irritable; he hadn't slept well at all.

Due to his heavy workload, Ethan often struggled with insomnia, though perhaps the routine of his marriage contributed to it as well, which was why he often resorted to sedatives. This time, however, even the medication failed. He had spent most of the night wide awake; his mind simply refused to quiet down, and sleep remained out of reach. The events of the previous day haunted him, playing on a relentless loop in his head.

“My type is Alphas, Ethan.”

The words kept spinning through his mind, followed immediately by the next sentence:

“Being with an Alpha can be far more intense than being with an Omega.”

Ethan couldn't get the gleam in Aaron’s eyes out of his head when he had uttered those words. His eyes, which usually seemed friendly and playful, had revealed a completely different light in that moment—intense, deep, and wild.

Ethan dragged a hand through his hair, letting it slide down to cover his face. He glanced to the side; Angel was still sound asleep. Without waiting any longer, he headed into the bathroom. He stepped into the tub and turned on the cold water—he needed it to wake up. As the first icy spray hit his back, his skin prickled. He slammed his fists against the cold tiles and rested his forehead there, eyes closed, feeling the freezing water cascade down his skin. He wished the water could wash away not just his physical exhaustion, but the turmoil in his mind as well.

After a quick shower, he dressed with his usual precision and shared breakfast with Mrs. Lurdes before rushing out.

Uncharacteristically for him—given that he was a man of strict punctuality—Ethan was running late. Manhattan’s traffic moved at a snail’s pace. Ethan watched the minutes tick by, feeling completely helpless amid the sea of gridlocked cars.

When he finally arrived at the company, he was a full hour late. He kept a firm, brisk pace as he hurried down the hallways toward his office.

For some reason, the room felt noticeably smaller that morning. The moment Ethan crossed the threshold, the air hitting his nostrils was heavy. The scent of freshly brewed coffee was laced with a subtle aroma of wood and spices. Aaron’s scent.

The architect was leaning over his workstation. His white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his mid-forearms, stretched taut across his broad shoulders with every precise movement of his pencil. When the door clicked shut, Aaron raised his head.

“Good morning, supervisor.” Aaron’s voice came out deep, velvety, resonating straight in Ethan’s chest. “I never thought I’d see the day Ethan Vance showed up late,” he added, a playful smirk on his face.

Ethan didn't answer immediately. He walked over to his desk and set his leather briefcase down. The metal buckle snapped shut loudly in the quiet room.

“Good morning, Mr. Williams. Just the usual traffic.”

Ethan sat down and powered on his computer. He kept his eyes glued to the screen as the operating system loaded, but his peripheral attention failed him miserably. His gaze was instinctively drawn to the figure beside him.

Even after yesterday's confession, Aaron displayed not the slightest hint of self-consciousness or inhibition. He remained entirely unfazed. Now, seated beside his desk and facing Ethan, he held a paper cup of coffee in one hand and the project layout in the other, where all his focus was directed.

Ethan wondered how he managed to live so comfortably, presenting his true self to the world with such ease. Even though society had progressed and homosexuality was no longer universally viewed as a taboo, prejudice remained widespread. Aaron was twenty-eight—the same age Ethan was when he married Angel; the age he decided to bury that part of himself forever and never let it surface again.

Unlike him, Aaron owned his identity naturally. A bitter trace of envy surfaced in Ethan’s chest as he compared his life to Aaron’s.

Aaron set his cup on the desk. Ethan’s eyes drifted down to those lips, still damp from the coffee and faintly flushed. He swallowed hard. He stared at his mouth until he saw it curve slightly into a soft smile. Ethan wondered how a smile could manage to look both so charming and so gentle at the same time.

When his eyes shifted upward, they locked with Aaron’s. Ethan felt his heart skip a beat.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Mr. Vance?”

Ethan jerked his eyes back to his computer screen.

“Nothing, Mr. Williams,” Ethan replied with forced composure, though he was dying of embarrassment underneath.

Why had he stared at his colleague so brazenly? Ethan suppressed the urge to cover his face with his hand and forced himself to focus on his work; he needed to occupy his mind to avoid dwelling on trivial matters.

The afternoon dragged on, and as if nothing was destined to go right that day, the air conditioning broke down. The technician warned that he wouldn't be able to come until the following morning.

“It’s like an oven in here, isn't it?” Aaron remarked, slipping off his blazer.

“It is,” Ethan agreed.

Tearing his eyes away from the monitor to look at Aaron, Ethan threw his head back slightly in an unthinking gesture. The movement brought his gaze straight to the other man’s throat. Ethan’s eyes fixed there—on the firm prominence of his Adam’s apple as it bobbed slowly, tracing the tension in his neck muscles before he swallowed.

Ethan swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly going dry. He averted his gaze and rested a hand against his forehead. Why was this happening? He had left all of this behind. He had always been able to function perfectly fine around other Alphas.

He let his hand slide down his face. The fault was his own. This was surely just a fleeting reaction to yesterday's conversation; it would pass soon enough. He just needed to wait it out and stay calm.

Even though he had known he was gay since adolescence, Ethan had never so much as kissed another man. Though he had desired a few Alphas he met in his youth, he had been too cautious to act on it, always knowing how to keep those impulses under control. It wouldn't be any different now.

The lunch break came and went. Both men left to grab a bite and returned shortly after. With the air conditioning out, the office felt increasingly claustrophobic. The air inside was heavy. It was late summer, so while it wasn't sweltering outside, Ethan felt as though he were suffocating. He brought his fingers up to his tie, pretending to loosen the knot, but ultimately left it as it was.

“Ethan. Take a look at this.”

Before Ethan could respond, Aaron walked around the desk. He didn't stop at a formal distance. He stepped right up behind Ethan’s chair, leaning his torso forward.

Ethan’s world shrank instantly.

Aaron’s shadow fell over the desk. The architect’s warm breath passed inches from the exposed skin at the back of Ethan’s neck—a hot exhale that sent a shiver through him. The rich, woody scent flooded Ethan’s senses, dense and intoxicating. Experiencing not the slightest hint of biological repulsion, Ethan held his breath.

“If we trim the margin on this beam...” Aaron’s arm extended over Ethan’s shoulder, pointing at the blueprint.

The skin of his forearm brushed lightly against Ethan’s shoulder.

Ethan froze. The air caught in his throat. He couldn't even look at the paper; his eyes were glued to Aaron’s arm stretched out in front of him. Raised veins lined the fair skin, defining the muscle down to the steady hand holding the pencil. It was the hand of someone built for strength, yet drawing with calculated precision.

“What do you think?” Aaron murmured. His voice vibrated so close to Ethan’s ear that he could feel the air brush against his skin.

Ethan turned his head just enough to face him. It was a mistake.

Aaron’s face was mere inches from his own. His well-shaped lips held a calm, subtle smile, but his eyes... those deep blue eyes held an intense, mesmerizing light.

“It’s... correct,” Ethan’s voice came out low, nearly cracking. He had to clear his throat to find his voice. “You may proceed with that, Mr. Williams.”

Aaron held his gaze for two agonizingly long seconds before slowly straightening up, lifting the pressure from Ethan’s back.

“Perfect,” he said with a satisfied smile before returning to his desk.

Ethan let out an involuntary breath. On the outside, he appeared composed, but inside, a storm of emotion raged. He placed a hand over his chest, feeling his heart hammer so hard he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.

Dammit, he cursed inwardly.

He glanced down at his hand, which was trembling slightly against the desk.

Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Everything is fine. Everything is fine. He repeated the words like a mantra, as if saying them enough times would make them true.