Alex in control
Jeff Pov
I can’t believe Alex left me, and I’m not even sure he’s coming back. I know it’s all my fault. I’ve been a fucking idiot. I got too wrapped up with Max and how he made me feel, and I stopped considering how he made Alex feel.
The apartment feels so quiet without him. I sit on the edge of the bed, our bed, and stare at the phone. No messages. No calls. I thought Alex might have decided to reach out, to say something, anything.
I ran a hand through my hair and caught sight of myself in the mirror across the room. I look like shit. Rumpled clothes, dark circles under my eyes. The charming smile that usually comes so easily feels impossible right now.
My phone buzzes, and my heart lurches, but it’s just an Insta notification. Some thirst trap account I follow. I toss the phone onto the mattress with more force than necessary.
The truth is, I don’t even know what I’d say to Alex if he walked through that door right now. Sorry doesn’t cut it. Not after the humiliation, not after the cheating, not after Max.
Just thinking about Max and what we’d said in front of Alex makes me sick to my stomach. I had to find some way to make it up to him, to make him forgive me.
I needed to do something. Sitting here won’t fix anything. I pushed off the bed and paced to the window, peering out at the street below. My phone buzzed again. This time, I grabbed it immediately, hope spiking through my chest before I even looked at the screen.
It was Ben.
Ben
*Mate, what the fuck are you doing? Alex showed up at mine looking absolutely wrecked. *
My stomach dropped. Alex went to Ben’s. Of course he did. Ben’s always been his safe harbor, the one person Alex trusts completely, even after all the cheating with me; he’d forgiven Ben. I type and delete three different responses before settling on something that won’t sound pathetic.
Me
*He’s staying with you? *
The three dots appear, disappear, appear again. Ben’s taking his time answering, he answered.
Ben
*Yes, he’s staying with me, says he can’t trust you, you’ve been lying to him*
Me
*I’ve been a fucking idiot, I gave Max too much control, I need to make it up to him*
Ben
*The only way to fix this is to tell Max it’s over. It’s gone too far, Jeff.
Me
*I need to talk to him, to explain. *
Ben
*He doesn’t want to talk to you. I would leave it for a few days and then try to talk to him, give him time to cool down*
A few days. I stare at Ben’s message, reading it over and over like it might change if I look at it long enough. My fingers hover over the keyboard, itching to type something, anything, that might convince Ben to let me come over, to let me see Alex, to let me explain.
But I know Ben. I know that tone. Ben’s not going to budge, and pushing will only make things worse. I toss the phone aside again. A few days feel impossible. A few days feel like forever.
The apartment is suffocating. Every corner reminds me of Alex, the coffee mug on the nightstand that Alex uses every morning, the accounting textbooks on the desk from when Alex was studying for his CPA, and his glasses on the coffee table.
I have to get out of the empty apartment, so I grab my gym gear and head to the gym. I need to take my mind off Alex and what a dickhead I’ve been.
The gym is packed, bodies moving in sync across machines and free weights. I strip off my shirt and toss it into the locker, the familiar burn of a workout calling out to me. I need this, need to feel something other than the gnawing guilt that’s been eating me alive since Alex walked out.
I load the barbell heavier than usual, pushing myself harder with each set. Sweat drips down my chest as I power through reps; my muscles are screaming, my mind mercifully blank for brief moments before the thoughts creep back in.
A few days.
Ben’s words echo as I rack the weights. A few days of not seeing Alex, not hearing his voice, not cuddling in bed, not having the chance to make this right. The thought makes my chest tight, makes it hard to breathe, even as I stand here drenched in sweat.
I move to finish my workout and head out to the change room and showers. I’ve got to talk to Max and tell him I can’t see him anymore. I know he’s not going to like it.
The shower is hot, almost painful against my skin, but I need to feel it. I stand under the spray and let the water pound across my shoulders, washing away the sweat and grime. My mind wanders through what I’m going to say to Max, how I’m going to untangle myself from whatever this thing is between us.
Max won’t make it easy. I know that much. Max likes control, likes having people exactly where he wants them, and I’ve been playing right into that for weeks now. The thought makes my stomach twist.
I dry off and get dressed, my phone sits on the bench, and I stare at it for a long moment before picking it up. I scroll through my contacts until I find Max’s name.
My thumb hovers over the call button. Once I do this, there’s no going back. Once I tell Max it’s finished, that I care about Alex too much, there can be no going back.
Hello there, handsome, Max answers, fuck, I didn’t know what to say. Max, I’m sorry, but something happened. Alex knows I’ve been lying to him about where I’ve been at night and that we’ve been fucking alone; he’s left me, and he’s staying at Ben’s. Max draws a breath. Oh, fuck, Jeff, how did that happen? He saw us at Sircuit last night, I told him, and he had photos; there was no denying it.
Wow, Max said, I’m sorry, Jeff. I guess you need to lay low for a little bit, he said. Max, I can’t see you anymore. I won’t risk my relationship with Alex anymore; he’s too important to me. Come on, Jeff, he said, let’s not be too dramatic. You lie low for a little bit, let things get back to normal with Alex, and we’ll get together again. I know how much you love my cock; you can’t be without it for too long.
I can’t, Max, Alex will leave me forever. Well, maybe you are better off without him, Max said, I know it’s been more fun with him not around. I couldn’t believe he just said that, Max, you’re an asshole. Alex has been nothing but fair, letting us get together, and we’ve taken it too far. I won’t risk losing him, and I hung up on him. Fuck, what an absolute idiot I had been. Alex had tried to warn me about what Max wanted, but I had been blind.
The phone felt heavy in my hand as the line went dead. I stare at the dark screen, Max’s words still ringing in my ears. I know it’s more fun with him not around.
I put the phone in my pocket and leaned against the locker, my damp hair dripping down my neck. The gym around me continues, the whir of cardio machines, the low murmur of voices, but it all feels distant now, muffled under the weight of what I’ve just done.
I’ve broken things off with Max, actually done it.
The relief doesn’t come. Instead, there’s a hollow feeling in my chest, like I’m standing at the edge of something and haven’t quite jumped yet. Max will call back. Max always calls back. Max doesn’t accept rejection well, especially not from someone he’s had his hooks in.
I finished getting dressed and made my way back to our apartment.
The apartment is exactly as I left it, still empty. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. It feels so different when no one else is there. I miss Alex. I don’t bother turning on the lights. The late afternoon sun filters through the blinds, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor.
I toss my gym bag onto the couch and collapse beside it. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I ignore it. Probably Max calling back. Max always calls back.
The silence stretches out, and I find myself staring at the coffee table where Alex’s reading glasses sit, abandoned. Alex must have forgotten them when he left. The thought makes my chest heavy. Alex never goes anywhere without his glasses. It’s such a small thing, but it feels like evidence of how quickly everything fell apart, how Alex fled without thinking, without his usual careful packing whenever we went away.
There was a knock at the door, and I froze. The knock comes again, more insistent this time.
My first thought is Max. Max has shown up at the apartment before, uninvited, with that cocky confidence. But Max wouldn’t knock. Max would just let himself in with the key I stupidly gave him weeks ago.
I push myself up from the couch and move toward the door, my damp hair still clinging to my neck. Through the peephole, I see a figure I don’t immediately recognize, tall, broad shoulders, dark hair. Then it clicks. It’s not Max.
It’s Ben.
My heart rate spikes. I open the door, and Ben stands there with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. There’s a tension in his jaw that I recognize, the look he gets when he’s about to say something I won’t want to hear.
“We need to talk,” Ben says, not bothering with pleasantries.
I step aside, letting Ben into the apartment. The familiar ease between us feels strained now, fractured by everything that’s happened. Ben moves into the living room, his gaze sweeping across the space like he’s cataloguing evidence.
“Alex is a mess,” Ben says without hesitation. “He’s barely eaten since he got to mine. He keeps replaying everything in his head, trying to figure out where he missed the signs.”
My stomach tightens. I want to say something, to defend myself, but I know anything I say right now will sound hollow.
“I didn’t mean for this to get out of hand,” I tell him. Ben’s jaw clenches tighter, and he shakes his head. “Didn’t mean for it to get out of hand? You’ve been lying to Alex for weeks. You’ve been sneaking around with Max, letting him manipulate you, and now you’re standing here acting like this is some accident that happened to you.”
The words land like punches. I want to argue, to explain that it’s more complicated than that, but I know Ben’s right. “I ended it with Max,” I say quietly. “Just now. At the gym.”
Ben’s expression shifts slightly, surprise flickering across his features before the hardness returns. “Good. That’s a start. But that doesn’t fix what you’ve done to Alex.”
I run a hand through my hair. I want to see him, I need to try and explain, can you help me? I ask him, just suggest it might be a good idea to meet up with me, so I can tell him how sorry I am and that I’ve finished things with Max. I want to make it right, Ben.
Ben looked at me, and I was nearly floored by what he said next.
Look, Jeff, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to tell you straight, Alex and I slept together, it just happened, but Alex wants it to happen again.
The words hit me like a physical blow. My mouth goes dry, and I stare at Ben, searching his face for any sign that he’s joking, that this is some kind of twisted punishment for what I’d done.
“You... what?” I manage.
Ben doesn’t flinch. His expression remains steady, almost defiant. “Alex needed someone. You weren’t there. I was.”
I felt the room tilt slightly. I reached out and gripped the back of the couch, needing something solid beneath my fingers. Ben and Alex. The thought makes my chest hurt. This is what Alex must have felt when he found out Ben and I had been fucking behind his back all of those months ago. I felt a complicated tangle of guilt and jealousy and something else, something rawer that I don’t want to name.
“He’s vulnerable right now,” I say, and even as the words leave my mouth, I know how they sound. Possessive. Hypocritical.
“Yeah, he is,” Ben agrees, and there’s more: he wants to be able to bring me here anytime he wants. Ben leans against the arm of the couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “He wants to explore this with you involved, Jeff. He wants you to know about it, to be part of it.”
My throat constricts. The words don’t make sense at first; they tumble around in my head like loose change in a dryer. Alex wants Ben. Alex wants me to know about it. Alex wants...
“I don’t understand,” I say, though I think I do. Part of me understands perfectly, and that’s what terrifies me.
Ben’s expression softens slightly. “Look, I’m not here to punish you, Jeff. I like you; you and I have our own history. You know I have a soft spot for you, but I’m here because Alex is trying to figure out what he needs, and what he needs right now isn’t just apologies. He needs to feel wanted and to have some control in this situation. You took that from him.”
The accusation harsh but true. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Ben’s words hang in the air between us, heavy with implication. He wants control. Alex wants control. “He wants me there,” I say slowly, testing the words. “While you... while you’re with him.”
Ben nods, watching my face carefully. The point is, Alex gets to decide what happens next. Not you, not me, not Max pulling strings from the sidelines.”
The mention of Max makes my jaw clench. I think about what he said in the gym, how Max wanted Alex out of the picture so we could be together more freely. The selfishness of it makes me feel sick all over again.
“I need to think about this,” I tell Ben, moving toward the window, don’t take too long. Alex wants to talk about this with you today. I stare at Ben. Today, Alex wants to talk about this today. Which means I don’t get the luxury of time to process, to wrap my head around what’s being proposed.
“Where?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
“My place,” Ben says. “Tonight. Eight o’clock.”
I nod slowly, though my mind is spinning. Ben and Alex. Together. The image keeps trying to form in my head, and I keep pushing it away, not ready to examine it too closely.
But underneath the shock and the discomfort, there’s something else stirring, fuck I was getting aroused. Something that makes me feel guilty all over again, because my body is responding to the idea even as my conscience screams that I don’t have the right.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll be there.
Ben nods, satisfied, and heads toward the door. I watch him go, waiting until I hear the click of the lock before I move. My legs feel unsteady as I walk to the bedroom and collapse onto the mattress.
Eight o’clock. A few hours to figure out how to face Alex, how to sit across from him and Ben, and talk about... what? Sharing? Cuckolding?
I pull out my phone and scroll through my messages. Max has called twice and sent a text: Don’t be stupid. Call me back.
I delete it without responding. That door is closed now. I can’t go back to Max, can’t pretend that what happened between us was anything other than a mistake born from ego and the intoxicating rush of being wanted by someone so older and enticing.
But now I had to make things right with Alex. I shower again, standing under the spray longer than necessary, trying to wash away the anxiety crawling under my skin. The water does nothing. By the time I step out, my phone reads 6:47 PM. An hour and thirteen minutes until I had to walk into Ben’s place and face whatever comes next.
I pull on fresh clothes, dark jeans, a fitted grey shirt, nothing too casual, nothing that screams I’m trying too hard. I catch my reflection in the mirror and barely recognize myself.
I ordered an Uber at 7:45, needing the buffer of travel time, the few minutes to sit in the back of a car and breathe. The driver doesn’t make conversation, which I’m grateful for. The streets of Melbourne blur past, familiar corners, familiar shop fronts.
The car pulls up outside Ben’s place at 7:58. I sit for a moment, staring at the front of his place with its warm lights glowing behind the windows. My chest feels tight; my palms already damp against my jeans. I force myself to open the door and step out into the cool Melbourne evening.
My hand hovers over the bell before I press it, the chime echoing inside. I can hear movement, footsteps, and then the door swings open. Ben stands there, casual in a black t-shirt and jeans, his expression unreadable. “You came,” he says, stepping aside.
“Of course I came,” I reply, moving into the hallway. The familiar space suddenly feels different, charged with something I can’t quite name. I can hear voices from deeper in the house, and my stomach churns. I thought it was just going to be Ben, Alex, and me.
“Who else is here?” I ask, stepping further into the hallway. I catch the scent of something cooking, garlic, maybe tomatoes, and it hits me that Ben’s actually prepared for this, thought it through beyond just the three of us talking.
Ben closes the door behind him. “Max,” he says simply.
The name lands like a punch. My stomach drops, and I have to grip the wall to steady myself. “Max? What the fuck, Ben? Why would you…”
“He’s not here for you,” Ben interrupts, his voice low and controlled. “He’s here because Alex wanted him here. Alex wanted to confront him directly about what happened between you two, about how he manipulated you.”
My mind starts to reel. Alex orchestrated this. Alex, who’d fled the apartment in tears, who’d been staying at Ben’s, who’d slept with Ben, Alex had the control now.
To be continued…….
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