Peaches 'N Cream

18. Flesh

"My fault, princess." Not waiting for him to finish tying the small elastic band on the end of his hair, he spoke audibly this time, "What I meant was that you look good enough to eat right now, and I wish you'd come over here and ride my face already."

He watched with a shit-eating grin as Jericho almost dropped his phone while scrambling to turn the volume down on it.

"How was that, baby?"

Glaring at him, he finished setting it up.

"My mom just got home. Shut the hell up!"

He whisper-shouted at him with wide eyes, flush creeping up his neck and darkening his cheeks, and the blond burst out in laughter. Adding: "Next time, accept my compliment, and I won't have to elaborate. Try it." Dropping his voice, "I don't wanna hear "but" or "even though I" either."

Jericho rolled his eyes while parting another piece of hair and started on a new row. His cheeks and neck were a shade darker then the rest of his body.

"Thank you, Joey."

He replied with a satisfied smile and a "you're welcome." Waiting a few more minutes for him to finish the braid he was working on, so he could have his full attention again.

"Hey, so listen," Joseph scratched his beard and situated his head into a more comfortable position in the crook of his elbow. "I know you said we'd talk tomorrow, but what happened after school is still really buggin' me."

Jericho put down the comb he was using and dug through what sounded like a drawer. Grabbing something, a scrunchie, and holding it between his teeth.

"Gibe me a shecond."

Words coming out only slightly indecipherable because of the hair tie in his mouth. He hummed, watching the other pull the rest of his thick hair in the unfinished section into a low bun, turn the bathroom light off, and walk into another room.

They were both lying in their respective beds now, but the blond was silent. What if's? Flooding his conscience. His nerves about the answer he would get were suddenly rearing their ugly heads again when Jericho spoke first.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

The tips of his ears started to burn. He grounded himself, "Who is he? The way he was talkin' to you... that shit just ain't sit right with me." And got right to the point.

"...Ezekiel, he was my best friend back when I lived in Brooklyn. We," he hesitated, "used to be really close but not the good kind. I've known him for almost half my life. He's a dick, but that's really just how he talks, I promise."

The guy's name sounded vaguely familiar, and that bothered the hell out of him. A question answered left him with even more than he started with. And, 'not the good kind' entailed what exactly? Irritation must've been layered pretty thick onto his face, too, because Jericho continued.

"My mom is working overnight at the hospital on Friday, I figured you were probably coming over anyway so we can talk then..." he trailed off toward the end, golden eyes dimming to a warm amber when he shrugged, "spend the night if you want, gotta wake up early to leave, though."

Sometimes Joseph didn't like that he could switch the subject and read him so easily, but other times it worked out fine. For example, right now. The brown-haired boy had technically just asked him out, in a roundabout way, of course, and only to his house, but he did nonetheless.

"Yeah that was the plan. You want me to spend the night?" He sat up on his forearms, an arrogant grin on his face, "Sure, you can handle it? I'm not the best at keepin' my hands to myself."