MATHONGA

Chapter 62

VUKUZAKHE-

He hasn’t been to see Mathonga and no one has called him to update him on what’s happening in his younger brother’s life. All is well, according to him and as soon as they are all safe, Mathonga will go back to KZN and their lives will continue from where they left off before a plague hit them. He has it all planned out.

Black; Funo’s bodyguard was let go the day Vukuzakhe came back, there is no use in having a bodyguard when Zakhe is with the younger man all day every day. 

“I want this man found. I don’t care what you do, find him.” He’s on the phone with a private investigator, mission find Phumlani Khanyile is on. Along with Ntaba, Zakhe is working hard to dig the past. It’s a must they find the man, all this is done for Mathonga. 

The small gadget is tossed on the couch, a Zulu man’s tongue click is equivalent to a Nigerian man’s tongue click. He’s frustrated by the investigator’s incompetence. 

“Who do you want found?” Asks Funokuhle as he gently bustles into the living room and places a kiss the older man’s cheek. The power nap did wonders to the man, he looks rejuvenated. But it’s not morning yet, what’s he doing up? 

Zakhe’s eyebrows come to life while watching Funokuhle throw himself on the couch and channel searches. His world goes completely out of focus while every detail about the boy is clear and mesmerizing. 

“Hey.” Funokuhle snaps his fingers, taking Zakhe out of the world of thinkers. “Who do you want found?”  

“No one, kid.” He lies and settles beside him, their knees brush a smidgeon—it sends a jolt of shivers through the entirety of Funokuhle’s body.   

“Are you hungry?” Zakhe asks. “You went to bed before supper.” 

“How can I eat without you?” Funokuhle’s reply is quick, and dished with a shrug.  

“I’m hungry.” He hints, retching for oxygen. Funokuhle finds it dramatic, he diverts his gaze to the big man seated next to him and a smile finds his lips.  

“Oh, is that why you’re asking if I ate?” Funokuhle. 

“Maybe that was my way of telling you that I’m hungry.” Is he sulking? The big man is sulking, bottom lip slightly pushed forward. He passes another sigh and drops his head on Funokuhle’s shoulder. 

“Sometimes I wonder if you love food more than me.” 

Where did Funokuhle get the gun to fire that? His statement invites awkwardness, it’s chased away by Zakhe softly chuckling.  

“Food before boys.” Zakhe comments, playfully. His head heavy on Funokuhle.   

“Okay, that saves me the trouble of having to whip something fast. I’m a boy who is competing with food for your attention and you’ve chosen food over me.” The words shower over Zakhe, Funokuhle starts to turn, preparing himself to leave the room. His little trip is denied by Zakhe gripping his hand. One turn from Funokuhle and Zakhe is standing before him, he scoops him up in his arms.  

“What are you doing?” Funokuhle questions, voice breaking from little use. He entraps Zakhe’s neck with his arms, for balance, and the softening smile on Khanyile’s face causes the minion to feel exceedingly shy at being the subject of the man’s attention. 

“You’re making fun of my love for food.” The older man says, evenly sprinkling a drop of teases. Their eyes clash, adoration pulses in Funokuhle’s heart.