Except, that was all he could do.
He spent the next few days worrying over the fact that he had just pursued away the only true agent on the team and now, they'd have to hold off on their trial runs which would only stunt their portfolio and extend any hope of hiring.
With just two of them, their options were limited.
And it was all Andem's fault.
But it wasn't.
Unless it was.
Except during the few moments where he'd managed to tell himself it wasn't his fault that the defunct alpha -who probably wasn't fit enough to lead anyway- had left. Because, honestly, what kind of alpha just turned tail and ran? Why didn't he stay and fight Andem? Or at least, bully him into submission or something? It was so un-alpha-like that he packed all his things and left like a pussy.
Andem was so pissed. Even though he hadn't yet figured out the focus of his anger.
Presently, he was on his third set of two hundred sit-ups, lifting and lying to the hard, loud rhythm of afrobeats that was pounding almost painfully in his ears through his burrowed headphones. He was too angry to reduce it and he figured that maybe, on some level, he deserved whatever torture he witnessed.
So, hours after all his housemates had had dinner and gone up to bed, he was still pushing himself and working out and punishing and not growing in any way but the ache in his joints.
When someone pulled the headphones from his head, Andem turned around to where Nsemeke stood, hands on hips and eyes furious with worry.
"You're being stupid. Whatever it is, exercise isn't going to help."
"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Andem asked, continuing his set as if he had never stopped.
"Shouldn't you?" Nsemeke snarked back. "I don't know what's going on with your talentless little team but your antsiness is affecting the rest of us that live with you."
Nsemeke sat cross-legged, beside Andem and faced him so that his left knee brushed against Andem's left hip every time Andem moved.
"You can't call me talentless if you can't do what I can do," Andem replied.
"What happened with your leader?" Nsemeke asked, cutting through Andem's bullshit.
"Nothing."
Nsemeke pulled up his legs and clasped his hands around them as he rested his chin on his knees.
"Eteli won't tell me what happened or why he left."
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," Andem replied in his readied and prepared answer.
"I want you to talk to me. If it were me, you'd badger."
"I really wouldn't."
"You're probably right," Nsemeke looked away but continued to sit so Andem continued to move, forward and back down in his workout-punishment. "Doing this won't change anything."
"And talking to you will?" Andem heard the dickery in his tone and sighed, stopping his movement to look at Nsemeke.
Who, by the way, didn't look offended by Andem's tone or anything. He just sat there, blinking at Andem and waiting. And Andem had the distinct impression that if Nsemeke continued, he just might cave and spill and talk about everything. And not in the way he had talked to Steven but in like, an extensive way with descriptive narration and everything. But he did not want to do that.
"Look," he began. "I appreciate that you want to be here for me or be a friend or whatever but I'm fi-mmphh."
He stopped, inhaling sharply as Nsemeke leaned forward and touched his lips to Andem's in a static, delicate kiss that completely took Andem's breath away.
When Nsemeke moved to sit back, Andem found himself pursuing, seeking as he pushed himself up into Nsemeke's tiny, thin lips that felt like nothing and everything all at once. Moaning softly, Nsemeke pushed at Andem's chest, disconnecting their lips as Andem sat back, dissatisfied and unhappy.
"Talk to me," Nsemeke asked and Andem could have sworn it sounded like a dominant voice. But that was ridiculous because Nsemeke was a beta and he was sitting there. Right there. In front of Andem with his teasing, beautiful lips that he was being utterly selfish with at the moment. "Tell me, Andem."
"Chima likes me," Andem said. "I don't mean that in a friendly or brotherly way. Like like-likes me. You know? Like how I feel about you."
Andem had successfully admitted to being involved in a defunct thing while at the same time, confessing his feelings to Nsemeke.
"So?" Nsemeke asked, eyes running all over Andem's face as if desperately struggling to understand what Andem's problem was and failing.
"So?" Andem asked back. "He's an alpha. I'm an alpha. It's filthy."
The area below Nsemeke's left eye twitched in slight irritation before a full frown formed and Andem rolled his eyes, immediately destroying the already ruined moment between them. He got up and shook his head at Nsemeke.
"You're one of those people," Andem said.
"What people?" Nsemeke remained on the ground. Andem approached his bottle of water and he began to uncap it.
"The liberal ones."
"You're saying that like it's a bad thing."
"You people," Andem scoffed. "You're so hypocritical."
"What does that mean? How can I be hypocritical? I don't care if an alpha has feelings for another alpha. Love is love regardless of a person's first or second gender."
"Really?" Andem looked at him. "So if you were an omega, you wouldn't mind if an omega wanted to fuck you?"
"I wouldn't but I don't see how that's the same thing."
"Oh God!" Andem could not believe the stupidity of this argument. "You wouldn't even understand."
"Even if I was an omega, I would never be with an omega but that's just me because I like to bottom. And most omegas want you to fuck them so I'm not that compatible with them either. It has nothing to do with any of my genders."
"You don't know what you're talking about. With alphas. It's different."
"You're telling me Chima left because he likes you?" Nsemeke asked angrily, cutting through Andem's speech. Again.
"He left because he was a coward who was scared I'd report him to Eteli."
"Eteli wouldn't care if he likes alphas."
"Eteli would care that he tried to fuck his teammate. The contract expressly says-"
"Oh my god," Nsemeke said in disgust as he stood, dusting the back of his trousers as he headed for the stairs. Andem wasn't ready for him to leave yet so Andem grabbed him.
"Wait a second. Wait, please," he said, holding Nsemeke in place by his one arm as he pulled them close together so that their sides brushed as he looked at Nsemeke. "I don't care about Chima right now."
He honestly didn't. Nsemeke had just kissed him and there were so many other things he'd rather talk about –or do- than argue about Chima's defunct status.
"Do you even know what you're doing?" Nsemeke asked, looking at Andem in such a strange way that Andem couldn't interpret what it meant at all. "I thought… I thought we wanted the same thing."
"We do," Andem agreed, wide-eyed and confused. "We want the same thing."
He leaned forward and Nsemeke leaned forward and their foreheads collided.
"I don't want to fight about this anymore."
"Me neither."
Reaching forward, he kissed Nsemeke again.