Peaches 'N Cream

17. Concrete

Ezekiel knew this was happening, had seen and heard it with his own two eyes and ears. His parents did the same, he wasn't allowed to hang out at friend's houses unless he snuck out to Jericho's, so he never realized that it wasn't normal.

But, as Jericho said, he didn't even try to listen when he talked about how he felt. Too busy trying to sort through his own emotions that he always talked but never made any time to listen.

He also knew how much of a saving grace it was to have someone in your corner. Ezekiel had Jericho, as messed up as they were, but Jericho didn't have anyone. His dad abused him at home, and he was abused by his best friend whenever they hung out after school.

Did such a good job at ignoring the past for the last four years and pretending nothing happened. Because everything didn't come back to bite him in the ass until Jericho popped up again, one of the few things Zeke wasn't lying about was that he moved here without knowing the other was here too.

If he'd known, he wouldn't have come at all. Ever since he met him again, the guilt had been eating at his conscious every single day. He wanted to apologize before he did something stupid. But, he was afraid of seeing him again after not being able to say goodbye.

It wasn't out of love either, he didn't think that was possible. He'd been with so many girls the past four years that it just didn't make sense. That was no excuse, but he couldn't break the façade. He tried already. That was the reason he came over to his house for dinner a few weeks ago.

As usual, he fucked up, said the wrong shit, and when the accusations, and the ridicule, and the tears came, he was done for. The older man had it coming, though; it was all true too but, fuck if it didn't piss him off.

He doesn't want to hurt him, he never did. A voice pulled him out of the black hole that was his thought process.

"Why are you acting so weird?"

That was the burning question he was contemplating this whole time? He loosened his grip on the wheel as well and took a deep breath. Today he would try to fix this shit. He cocked an eyebrow.

He preferred the cheerio scenario. They were about to pull into his neighborhood when he responded with a question of his own.

"Weird, how?"

He was going to drag this one out until they got to his house. Jericho folded his arms across his chest and spoke a little louder, "You always have some smart-ass shit to say, but you haven't spoken to me this entire car ride, weird?"

He was getting irritated, cute. The raven-haired man focused back onto the road, took a left, and deflected again. He responded, shrugging, "Been doing a lot of thinking." Making the last turn into his cul-de-sac, and then after a little while, pulled up into the driveway.

There was a saying, 'People often return to what's familiar, not what's good for them.' If they were already ticking time bombs apart, together they were a walking nuclear disaster. But Jericho was still his, he'd staked his claim a long while ago.

Joseph wasn't any good for him, Ezekiel still hates the guy and doesn't trust him for two reasons:

1. He's probably in love with Jericho.

2. He ruined Kylie Parker's life.

People that linger around Joseph Tucker for too long get fucked over and disappear. Kylie was living proof of that. The brown-haired boy had already been through the wringer several times. Ezekiel's not going to aid in it or let that happen right in front of his face again.

"Thinking about what?"

He put the car in park, turned off the engine, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Jericho matched his actions. Ezekiel ran a hand through his hair and looked directly at him. Taking all things into consideration this conversation was going to be difficult to have.

"You."

His expression went from one of confusion to annoyance quickly, anger, when he rolled his eyes and turned to open the door only to find out that it was still locked.

"Zeke, I'm not playing your mind games. Unlock the door."

He leaned back, "make some time then because you're not leaving until you hear what I have to say."

His eyes narrowed; Ezekiel could feel the venom in the words that were about to come out of his mouth. Hardening his resolve because having a conversation, not a yelling match, was the only way this was going to work.

"Now you wanna talk? All the fucking times I needed you to listen and you weren't there? We tried this last time, but you didn't want to listen then either, look at how that turned out. Your fingers around my throat, because that's the only way we know how to communicate. So put your hands on me or let me the fuck out of this car."

The raven-haired man shook his head, "And that's the issue. Jericho, I don't want to hurt you anymore." He let out a breath, "And, I need you to believe me when I say that, but you have to help me out a little here."

"Help you?"

If it wasn't already hard to tell, Ezekiel hated talking about things like his feelings. Not because he thought they made him weak, but he never gets the words out correctly. He was afraid of acknowledging them, too, because then they become real.

Zeke continued, "Not trying to purposely anger me would be a start and..." but trailed off toward the end. He screwed that up. There was no way he was going to say it out loud, no fucking way. He refused to sound jealous.

What? 'Stop acting like I wasn't your best friend first.' Jericho probably saw it written all over his face, though, because it was like a switch was flipped.

He cocked his head and after a few silent seconds he climbed out of his seat like a feline and over to the driver's side. Ezekiel felt heat coil in the pit of his stomach when he ran a hand all the way up to his thigh, stopping close to his hip to support his weight and leaning in close to his face.

"And what?"

The raven-haired man flexed his fingers and maintained the relaxed expression on his face, "Why do you want to get a reaction out of me so bad?" Trying desperately to stop his eyes from dropping down to his lips, "I'm just going to have to deal with this until you get it out of your system, won't I?"

Jericho laughed low and soft and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. He folded. Following the action like he'd die if he didn't look "yeah," moving his hand, faster than he could react, "because it's your own fault that you'll never be better than him." He whispered, scratching his nails down the inside of his thigh.

He tried to pull the hand off of him so he could finish speaking. But, a broad smile and then the sound of something unlocking interrupted him. The brown-haired boy grabbed his bag, opened the passenger door, and hopped out of the car in seconds.

He gave up. Ezekiel started the car and closed his eyes. Losing his cool for a second was all the time Jericho needed to see right through him. All the time he needed to show him how much power he had over him too.

He turned the music up, put his car in reverse, and drove off after Jericho shut the door to his house. Zeke was half-hard the entire way home.