𝟑. (𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭) 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲
"𝐌𝐢𝐫, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬."
◈
They sneak through the backdoor because they don't want to wake up anybody. Their walk up the steps nearly gets them caught because Zamir stumbles and Kori almost doesn't catch him. I knew this nigga was drunk, he thinks to himself, scoffing.
"But you just tipsy, right?"
"Shut up Jj,"
It's a miracle they make it to Kori's room. Zamir sits on his bed and holds his head, grimacing. Something comes over him. He walks over and stands between Zamir's legs before grabbing his chin, forcing him to look up at him, just like Zamir did in the car.
His breath hitches in his throat as Zamir's eyes meet his, low-lidded and sultry. The tension thickens between them and he just barely manages to get his words out, "I have some advil in my bathroom, Mir."
"Nah, I'm good, jus' tired," As Zamir says that, his hands travel up and rest themselves on Kori's hips. Kori nearly shivers as the boy moves his thumbs in circles against his skin.
"You-" he clears his throat, "You sure?"
"Yea,"
"Aight," he steps back, heart pounding hard in his chest. "I'm finna take a shower, I'll try to leave you some hot water."
"What imma wear in the mornin'?"
"You can just wear my clothes,"
"Underwear too?"
Kori's nose wrinkles, "Hell no."
Zamir laughs softly, falling back into the bed. Kori catches the way his shirt rides up and exposes the tiny bit of his abs. Swallowing harshly, he turns and begins emptying his pockets onto the dresser; his keys, wired headphones, wallet, phone, a baggie of weed, and the pocketknife his dad gave him when he was twelve all land on the wood.
"You got purse pockets."
Kori laughs, "Nigga, I'm jus' prepared."
"Sure." He replies dubiously before reaching out his hand, "Gimme the knife,"
It's a statement to how much Kori trusts Zamir that he doesn't ask any questions and places the knife in his hand. Zamir sits up and begins to flick the blade out, in, and back out again. "Mir, don't cut yourself," Kori warns as he walks to the bathroom.
"..."
"You hear me?"
"Heard you lil' baby."
Kori stiffens at the sound of the nickname. He turns slowly, disbelieving, "Watchu call me?"
"Lil' baby,"
He blinks, still uncomprehending, "Like- the rapper?"
"No, nigga,"
"Then what-"
"You my lil baby, simple as that," Zamir says as he flicks the knife open once again.
He expects to feel a rise of anger, or indignation, but all that comes out is, "I'm taller than you, though."
Zamir just laughs and falls back onto the bed, "By like, half a inch."
"A full inch."
"Half."
"Full-"
"Lil baby, go take yo ass in that shower before I spaz,"
Kori huffs and moves to the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him. He flicks on the light and he rears back in shock when he sees his reflection. The first thing he notices are the hickeys, small but purplish and obvious against his skin. The second is that he's... smiling.
He didn't even realize it. Kori presses his fingers against his cheeks, almost in awe. He hasn't smiled like this in nearly a month and it was all because of—
Him.
His friend since second grade, his brother that's stuck with him through thick and thin, his partner who takes care of him- alright let's stop those thoughts.
Kori strips quickly, puts his shower cap over his hair, and steps into the shower. He turns the knob and the spray hits him. He flinches at the cold, but it soon turns warm, and he relaxes into it. The stress leaves him as the hot water pelts against his skin and slowly, he stops worrying about what's to come tomorrow.
◈
Kori treks into his room, towel wrapped tightly around his waist. Water drips down his chest and his feet leave wet footprints on the wood floor, so he makes a mental note to clean in the morning. He glances at his bed and stops short when he realizes exactly Zamir is doing. Instead of the pocketknife being in his hands, it's been discarded to the side and Kori's phone has taken its place.
Oblivious or just uncaring, Zamir continues to casually go through his phone, laughing every few seconds.
Once again, he expects to feel disrespected or some type of anger, but all he does feel is a faint sense of he could've at least asked, I woulda let him. "Mir, watchu doin'?"
Zamir finally looks up. He opens his mouth as if he's going to speak, then stops, realizing that Kori was practically naked in front of him. He lets his eyes roam, dissecting every inch of Kori's body that he can see. He licks his lips, before finally dragging his eyes back up to meet Kori's gaze.
He's blushing— or Zamir thinks he is, based off of his fidgeting and darting eyes.
"Watchu say, lil' baby?"
"... I asked watchu was doin'." Kori murmurs, almost shyly gripping his towel.
"Oh," Zamir looks down at the phone in his hand that was decidedly not his, and shrugs, "Got bored. I jus' went through your photos and shit."
"Oh, okay." Kori decides to drop the topic and walk over to his dresser, opening the top drawer and taking out a pair of clean underwear. Out of his peripheral vision, he can see that Zamir is still staring. He thinks about asking him to look away or close his eyes but quickly scratches that, realizing how childish it would sound.
After a few seconds of contemplation, he loosens the towel from around his waist and allows it to drop to the floor. He hears a sharp intake of breath from Zamir, but other than that, there's no reaction.
Kori's almost... disappointed.
Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, Kori quickly pulls his briefs up over his legs. "There should still be some hot water left, I wasn't in 'ere long," He speaks as he walks over to his side of the bed, lifts the covers, and crawls in.
"Aight," Zamir hands him two phones— his and Kori's. Then, he makes his way to the bathroom with an unsteady stride that would worry Kori if he wasn't so exhausted. He watches Zamir until the boy closes the door behind him, blocking himself from his view. Sighing, and not wanting to fall asleep before Zamir, he pulls out his phone.
It's still on the photos app and it's on an album labeled Me & Mir, an album that's been active for nearly five years; it has nearly a thousand photos on it. Chuckling for no real reason, he exits the app, but ends up seeing the list of his previously-opened applications. He frowns, noticing something odd.
His contacts app was open.
The fuck? He asks himself as he clicks on the app. Was he going through my texts? He goes through roughly thirty of his past conversations and gives up, not noticing anything amiss. On a whim, he decides to check the amount of numbers he has registered in his phone.
The count is one short.
Kori thinks he understands now.
He goes to his blocked list and sure enough, Veronika (don't answer) is one of the numbers listed. He bites his lip, thinking about unblocking her, before ultimately deciding not to. He didn't want to upset Zamir —who obviously hated the girl— in a time like this, when they were just now beginning to heal their relationship after a month of silence.
Kori sets his phone down, feeling a headache coming on. He lays silently lays there for a few minutes, the faint sound of the shower spray being his own company, before he sends a contemplative glance towards Zamir's phone. He gave it to me for a reason, didn't he? He asks himself as he reaches for it, giving in to temptation. It's only fair since he went through mine. With that thought, he types in the password (which was Kori's birthday, whereas his password was Zamir's) and begins scouring.
◈
It feels like no time has passed at all when the door creaks open and Zamir walks into the room, boxers on only. The boy pauses when he sees Kori unashamedly going through his phone, then lets out a low chuckle, "You goin' through my shit, huh?"
"You gave it to me." He mumbles in lieu of defending himself.
Zamir shrugs, conceding the point. He walks over and begins to pry the covers back, making room for himself. The movement makes Kori finally look up and his throat goes dry when he sees Zamir's body; he truly had forgotten just how much muscle he had. Seeing the look on his face, Zamir raises his eyebrows, "What is it? Whas wrong?"
He ends up settling on a sheepish, "I forgot you looked like... that."
Zamir just frowns, "Huh?"
"Nevermind." He mumbles, hiding under the covers.
Zamir pulls the blankets back, "You too big for that, lil baby. Don't hide."
"Mir—"
"Nah, tell me watchu meant by that."
"You are so irritating."
Zamir just blinks at him.
"I meant, your muscles and shit, that's what I meant."
"Oh," Zamir pauses, then laughs. He finally lowers himself into the bed and immediately makes a grab for Kori's waist. The boy allows himself to be pulled into his arms and once there, he rests his head against Zamir's chest. He hears his heartbeat, a steady thump thump thump, and that takes away some of the tension in his body he didn't even know was there.
"I thought you meant you didn't want me to sleep witchu," Zamir reveals, resting his chin atop Kori's head.
"When have I ever made you go in the guest bedroom?" Kori asks groggily, already feeling the lull of sleep.
"Shit happens."
He rolls his eyes, "Go to sleep."
Zamir laughs and the sound makes his chest vibrate against Kori's body. It feels pleasant."Aight, goodnight lil' baby."
"Night."
He shuts his eyes and drifts off, wrapped up in the arms of his (?) best friend.
◈
Well, he wishes that would've happened, but for the life of him, he just can't go to sleep. He stays stuck in the halfway state between consciousness and unconsciousness and when Zamir asks him if he's sleep yet some indiscernible time later, he grumbles a reluctant, "No."
"I can't go to sleep either," Zamir reveals, pressing a kiss to Kori's neck, making him shiver.
"I dunno why I can't go, I'm tired as fuck,"
"You got something on your mind?"
"Not really."
"You sure?"
"Yea—" he cuts himself off, realizing he did have something on his mind but he was waiting to discuss it tomorrow. Or, well, in a few hours, seeing as it's 4AM right now. "Well, nah, I do got something on my mind."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"...not really."
Zamir chuckles, "Why not?"
"I'm tryna put it off,"
"That's dumb."
Kori does not pout, "Shut up."
"Talk to me lil baby, wassup?"
"..."
"I ain't gonna stop askin', might as well talk,"
"What are we?" He asks the words so quickly, in one short breath, that Zamir doesn't even understand him, "Huh?"
He repeats it, slower, "What are we, Mir?"
"Watchu mean?"
"Mir," he says carefully, "I think we both know we aren't just friends."
"...what makes you say that?"
"ZB." Nigga, I have a whole fucking list.
"I'm jus' playin, damn," Zamir laughs and Kori huffs, wondering when he became so sensitive about this shit. "I mean, do we really need to put a label on it?"
That immediately rubs him the wrong way. He wrinkles his nose, "Mir, I don't do that shit. We either something or we ain't."
"Just listen, aight? I ain't even gay. You ain't either. It's just that when it comes to you, it's different. I like touchin' you, kissin' you, and allat shit, and no one else gets to do that shit to you except fo' me. That's all there is to it. It's simple."
Kori absorbs the words, still frowning, "But—"
"Lil baby, don't make something out of nothing."
He sighs, "Alright."
"Now, take yo ass to sleep."
Kori rolls his eyes, but still lets his eyelids close. He feels a hand run through his hair and the sensation of a kiss being pressed against his forehead, then, he's gone. The last thought on his mind is as follows: But when's the day we can be something more?
He never gets the answer.
ᴀɢᴀᴘᴇ ♡