[BL] CRAVING HIM: Addicted to His Voice Chapter 150: In the Middle of Everything

~Evric’s POV~

He quickly cut in, shaking his head desperately. "No. No. No. Not anymore, Zayn. I swear. It’s over. I left that behind. Please, believe ."

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Then... what do you an by drugs?"

"Listen, Zayn," I began, my voice soft but firm. "In the past, at so point, I was addicted to drugs. To the extent that... I even used them during sex.

You know how drugs sotis...

He quickly cut in, shaking his head, eyes wide. "Wait... no, I don’t know. I’ve never done drugs," he said.

I swallowed hard and said, "Drugs...sotis make you feel extra, untouchable, happy. I’ve always had a naturally high drive for sex, an urge that’s hard to control, but trust , I’ve been trying to manage it without relying on drugs. It’s never been about you not being enough, or lacking anything."

He blinked at , confusion and disbelief mixing across his face.

"You know we’ve talked about this before," I continued, my voice steady but soft. "Everything I told you back then is still true. I’m just trying to get myself back on track. Anyone who’s been through drugs would understand. It’s not that I can’t reach this stage with penetration, Zayn... I can. I just... I didn’t want to hurt you. I wasn’t sure how long it would take to get there, and normally, after you release, you always..." I shook my head and trailed off. "Never mind."

He frowned, confused. "I normally what?"

I looked at him, my voice dropping low. "You don’t normally have the energy to continue for long. That’s why I’ve been learning to release before you, or cum together with you. Babe, trust , I just didn’t want to hurt you. Because if I told you everything, you’d be willing to try... and that’s not normal, baby."

I know sotis I can be crazy, but trust ... allow to adjust. I enjoy every mont of sex with you, Zayn. It’s just... so parts of I’m still trying to get back on track.

He looked at , his eyes sharp and unwavering. "I’ve heard you," he said quietly, "but I don’t forgive you. If you can’t tell everything, then why are we even dating in the first place?"

His words hit harder than I expected. "If I wasn’t showing you how much I enjoy sex with you, would you still see yourself as soone who can really... last for hours?"

"You don’t know how happy I am just to see you actually give that expression, Evric," he continued, "I’m a man also, I understand everything. So yes... you’re serving that punishnt, and I can’t tell you when exactly I’ll forgive you."

Then he stood up, moved to the shower, and dressed quickly before stepping outside.

I sat there, trying to make sense of it all. I don’t know if Zayn is overreacting... or if I’m truly at fault. I honestly enjoy every single mont with him, yet this morning felt different. Maybe I missed him too much.

I understand why he’s angry. This was the first ti he would see in that stage of orgasm, while I’ve seen him reach it countless tis. But how do I make him realize... we are different. Even if my body isn’t under the influence of anything, I can’t reach orgasm every single ti easily.

Seriously... right now, after all these tears, I think I need to laugh, since I’m alone. Do I need to explain to Zayn how being gay works? Just because we’re both n doesn’t an our bodies react the sa way, or that I didn’t enjoy sex with him.

God... Zayn.

That stupid Nicki got into this trouble...

Without thinking twice, I stood up, quickly dressed, and hurried downstairs, my heart pounding. I scanned the area, searching for him, but he wasn’t anywhere close by. I moved toward the side where his friends were gathered, hoping to spot him.

Finally, I saw him. He was in the garden, surrounded by his friends, talking with Dean. Nicki, Nantam, and a few other faces I didn’t know were there too. God, I don’t have...Sha anyway... I’ve let that go long ago, I thought, steeling myself.

I walked closer to him, deliberately ignoring everyone else, my focus entirely on him. Reaching him, I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind. He imdiately felt my presence, but didn’t even turn. He already knew it was . Every eye around us seed to be on us, yet I didn’t care. I whispered softly into his ear, "Babe, I’m sorry."

He didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch, as if he hadn’t heard at all.

I slid my hand inside his shirt, brushing against his skin. Instead of pulling away, he murmured, "Babe, don’t make my friends uncomfortable." His voice was calm.

He turned slightly toward , his expression neutral. I tried to smile, but he didn’t smile back. Instead, he asked simply, "Do you want anything?"

I nodded. "Yes"

"What do you want?" he pressed, his voice still even.

I leaned closer, my words low and teasing. "I want to kiss you."

He shot a sharp look. "Evric, it’s not funny," he said, his voice low and tinged with irritation. "Let’s go back inside."

He turned to Dean and added, "I’ll be back."

All around us, people froze. No one spoke. Everyone just stared, stunned by the display.

Once we were back inside, he finally spoke again. "Evric... don’t you have any sha at all?"

I nodded, "No, I don’t have any."

He gave a small, reluctant smile at my answer, but his eyes were still sharp, still angry.

I stepped closer and said softly, "Please, forgive . Stop being angry."

I thought to myself, None of this anger makes sense... why is he upset over this?

Suddenly, Zayn’s phone buzzed on the table. I saw the na "Evans" flash across the screen. I stayed quiet at first, but Zayn didn’t answer. He simply grabbed the phone, ended the call, locked the screen, and held it tightly in his hand.

"Your phone is ringing, and you’re not picking up," I said, my irritation rising as I watched him clutch it.

"It’s nothing," he replied, his voice calm, but the phone kept buzzing insistently.

"Pick up your call!" I snapped, unable to hold back any longer.

Instead of answering, Zayn turned toward the door, his expression indistinct. "I need to speak with Dean first. I’ll be back soon," he said quietly, almost dismissively.

I frowned, trying to make sense of his sudden distance. "Who’s calling?" I asked, my voice tense with curiosity.

"My friend," he replied, keeping his eyes on the door as if he didn’t want to explain further.

"Which friend?" I pressed, my dissatisfaction, bubbling under the surface.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned toward the door. My patience snapped completely. I followed him, keeping close, my heart pounding with a mix of frustration and concern. "Zayn... who is Evans?" I asked, my voice low but intense, heavy with tension.