Frayed Ends (BxB)

𝔁𝔁𝔁

↳ 𝓕𝓻𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓭 𝓔𝓷𝓭𝓼

Kenji's slender fingers — bare of any rings — gripped the soft, silk curtains covering the obtuse-angled doors that offered a view of the slow-moving tide brushing the shore. The clouds were fading into the sky — a lighter shade than the ocean. Blues and greens weave together, leaving traces of salt Meena smelt through the parted door.

Meena stood behind Kenji, his tatted arms wrapped around his waist and spearmint fanned his neck. His mind wasn't focused on Kenji's body pressed against him, though, but he desperately wished that's where his thoughts wandered.

The text message sent to him on the plane still haunted him.

Unknown: This is Hale, a partner of your father's. We're dealing with a rat. I'm asking for your expertise on the matter. How should we cut ties with him?

Twenty seven words. Twenty seven words that had dominated his thoughts. He tried to force the message to the back of his mind, but he couldn't forget the ache he felt at keeping it from Kenji. But telling him would throw him into the crossfire. He knew what Hale wanted him to say: kill him. It's how his father would react to a "rat."

Meena wouldn't be able to live with himself if he was the reason someone lost their life, if he gave the call to fire a bullet to a man's head.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he whispered inwardly. His fingers absentmindedly trailed over Kenji's stomach, hidden beneath loose-fitted cotton as an escape from his thoughts. Kenji leaned back into Meena's chest, reveling in the feather-like touches.

As the waves tumbled onto Juno's feet, who sat on the edge of the dock with wind-tangled locs, Kenji's own stomach tumbles with anticipation, close to whining for Meena's fingers to drift lower.

Knuckles tapping the door interrupted Meena's movements, causing Kenji to curse inwardly. Mustafa waited a few beats before popping his head in, curls damp from a shower. ❝Meena, can you stop by the store to pick up what you'll need for dinner?❞

Grateful for the distraction, Meena nods. He interlocks his hand with Kenji's, a silent invite to tag along. Kenji smiles, mentally deciding they can pick up where they left off with the previous activity after dinner.

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Meena absently flips a mix of steak and chicken chunks in a frying pan with a cheap spatula Kenji picked out, pointing out that buying a more expensive one would be futile if they were planning on eating out most of the trip.

Kenji cuts up red onions and tomatoes for his homemade Pico de Gallo he learned to make from Beau, while he hums the words to Footnote, his favorite song on Conan Gray's new album.

Meena brushes his fingers along Kenji's ass, veiled by denim, when he searches the grocery bags beside him for the seasoning he just bought. ❝Where the hell is it?❞ he mutters. ❝Aha! Found it!❞

Biting his lip, Kenji hesitantly says, ❝Don't do that,❞ in a soft voice.

An amused tilt to his mouth, Meena traces the rounded curve of his ear after Kenji swept the wooden cutting board of the vegetables, lips hovering over his neck. The spearmint gum he was chewing at the store still lingering on his tongue. ❝Does it bother you?❞ he drawls out.

Kenji sqeauks out, ❝Meena... please, you can't do that.❞

❝Why? Afraid you'll moan?❞ He thumbs the underside of his jaw, teasing. ❝Afraid they'll hear you? I heard the walls are pretty thin.❞

Kenji replies with a blush to his face and neck at the thought of his moans being overheard. ❝No,❞ he whispers.

Meena hums thoughtfully at the pink tint to his earlobes, ❝Sounds like a lie, shortcake.❞

Kenji lets silence speak for him.

Still smirking, Meena crosses laminated wood to sprinkle seasoning into the pan and flip the meat.

To say he didn't relish in flustering Kenji would be a lie. The fact that he had this affect on him was arousing.

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Meena chased the whiskey on his tongue with a splash of coke, diluting the buzz. Cocktails weren't usually his drink of choice, but with Kenji on the brink of drunk, he chose to remain at least half-sober.

Mustafa caught Meena's gaze from the chair opposite him, legs crossed at the ankles and his own shot of Jack in his tattooed hand. But Meena knew damn well he didn't add in coke from his honey-glazed eyes. In his defense, alcohol in his veins would distract him from sleeping in the same room as Juno for six nights with a barrier between them, seeing as Samir's closed eyes and laboured breathing would remind them of his presence.

Mustafa had confided in Meena before he left their apartment that the amount of space between he and Juno would torture him.

He couldn't blame him, frankly.

Meena would hate if Kenji was forcibly at arm's reach all the time, especially because it was his instinct to always touch him for comfort — almost a love language. At the moment, his palm rested at the base of Kenji's thigh, his thumb fiddling with the loose threads at his knee. Unlike most of the day, he wasn't touching him with a sexual intent. It was habitual.

Aafiya's lips were wine-stained. The golden charms dangling from her wrist clinked her glass of red softly, a steady tap when she lifted the glass. Shadows resembling the shapes of her charms fell onto the wood, courtesy of the fluorescent lighting above. Boldly, she said, ❝Let's go down to the bar tonight.❞

Meena looked around the room, waiting for a ❛no.❜ He nods after a few moments of silence.

How do you feel about Meena's text? Should he tell Kenji? Do we like that Meena keeps flustering him? What do you think will happen with Juno, Samir, and Mustafa all in the same room?

See y'all in the next chapter! #Keena