"LEE! DON'T FORGET YOUR SANDWICH! S'on the kitchen table!" Onika's Caribbean accent reverberates across the house with casualness that will make a sane person think twice about the Slayberry's net worth. Born in Trinidad and bred in Queens, Onika is almost literally the black sheep of the family who trinkets and checks never seem to effect an eyeblink out of.
Leroi abstractedly takes a grab at the soggy disaster staining a rainy cloud of oil on the marble, another ear against his phone absorbing the needlelike words of Whiskey's doctor.
"Okay, thank you. I'll bring him again this evening for checkup."
"As long as you come in the evening hours of 6 to 9."
"And make sure you email me his drug bills because if anything happens to my bird, you're going to jail."
Leroi's face is in angry folds directed at the blistering morning sunshine full of vitamin D that should've been euphoric but unfortunately, this vet doctor just has to fuck it up.
The woman who happens to be Maurice's aunt giggles from the phone and this only makes Leroi's mood crease more. "That's funny but your feathery friend is going to be--"
"I'm not kidding." And Leroi hangs up just in time to see the cat lady of the street who lives directly adjacent to his house wave him. She's watering her little catnip garden.
Leroi strains a smile, forgoing all the horror her cats have caused Whiskey for the moment. "Good morning to you too, Miss Margarita."
Running an exhausted finger across his hair, he slots his sunglasses between his ears and hops into his beloved Porsche, revs the engine and vrooms out of the scene.
Suburban vegetation glides against the glasses and his shiny car as he breezes through. The perfect song for the moment is playing out of his speakers and it's Taylor Swift's Lover. It's cringey and not really Leroi's style but whatever Spotify says.
Soon, he arrives at his destination under the wire of Maurice waiting on the porch and slapping his musty Motorola against his thigh. That phone has always been a nuisance and Leroi notes it at the back of his mind.
Just seeing the taller boy fans away every thought on his mind and a big smile dawns on his face. Butterflies explodes in his guts and there's this bout of air that suddenly fills his lungs. He just can't help but to exhale it and inhale the vibes sunlight is giving, especially on Maurice who's on a baggy top flashing tiger stripes and equally baggy shorts.
To Leroi, if amazing is a six year old, then Maurice should rot in jail forever because he's fucking amazing.
The Porsche pulls to a stop but the engine is still on. Everything about the street is calm but this house, Maurice's kind of stands out amongst the rest, Leroi notices and it's not in a good way. His lips pursing ever so momentarily, the night Leroi delivered a hammered Maurice to his father flickers behind his eyes and even though he wasn't here doesn't help not wondering what happened in this house.
Maurice reciprocates the colossal smile stapled on Leroi's face like a royal correspondence seal and skips into the car. The furry seats tends to his butt and while he settles into it plants his lips on the black boy's for a little too long.
Leroi's knees grows weaker on the brake pedal.
"What's up, sexy?" Leroi manages to say from the giddy goosebumps numbing his skin. "You look so beautiful today."
"Oh, don't flatter me Leroi."
Leroi takes on a meme face. "I'm not trying to flatter you, milady."
"We pretty know I might as well be a piece of bird shit staining this car." Maurice blows an ebony, almost dark-blue lock from his face as he leans back into the furry seats and places his hand behind his head.
Leroi decides to ignore that because so long, they've been dating since the past 26 hours and he won't want negative vibes blotching their position. "Hope you slept well babe."
The car roars back to life, sounding like five hundred grand. "Actually, I slept like a baby and woke up like a giant."
"As you should."
"And how was yours?"
Last night's party in Troy's house flashes by his mind; his makeshift bachelor's party. All the alcohol and bitches and everything toxic masculinity. "It was...long."
"Yeah, speaking of bird shit. My aunt has told you about your parrot?"
Leroi's fist momentarily clenches on the wheel. Well, that's the end of trying to have a good day.
"She said something like," Leroi pauses and wipes his brain for any remaining blotch of that word the vet said, "New cashews?"
Maurice breaks into chortles. " It's Newcastle, Lee. Newcastle disease."
"Is it something bad? I don't know what it is but it sounds bad." Leroi can't bear to imagine a life without that feathery talkative. Hell, upon everything that he's spent on Whiskey just for a stupid weird virus to waste away.
"Unfortunately, yes." Maurice grins to himself and leans to the door, his arm swinging outside the convertible. Leroi takes in an acute inhale. "He or she or whatever you call it might die. Most likely."
"I thought your aunt said he's going to be fine."
"Nope, he's dead." Maurice emphasizes on the last word. "Dead as a dodo, as a doorknob. On the Death Note and this close to animal afterlife..." Each word punches Leroi's chest and it takes all muscles in his eyelids to keep the tears in. "I'm just kidding haha."
"Uh?" Leroi whispers, already blanched from imagining a scene where he has to bury the only thing that understands him.
"The bird isn't going to die. As long as it takes its medicine. It will surely be squawking or parroting or whatever parrots do in no time."
The curlyhaired boy sighs in relief and untangles his shoulders. "Thank goodness."
"You should've seen your face though. Oh look, we're here."
As usual, the car is accompanied by envious and wonderous eyes into the parking lot. This makes Maurice sink further into his seat. He's not used to all this spotlight and it isn't meant for him but now he can't escape it anymore. Not with him dating Leroi. Well, bullocks.
Leroi notices the other boy's fidgeting and smiles a pitying smile. "You don't have to come in with me if that's what you want." He takes Maurice's hands in his. "We could take this slow and keep everything on a low till you're ready."
Maurice mentally rolls his eyes and shakes away the anxiety. "What do you mean going lowkey till I'm ready? I'm not confessing that I fucked the principal Leroi." He removes his hands and places it on Leroi's cheeks. "I'm going as your boyfriend because that's what I'm."
The kiss is brief, meaningful but surprisingly sensual. Leroi can now taste the strawberry in his mouth.
They catwalk into the hallway with their hands bonded and somehow managed to pin the mass of students in a short-lived decorum. Everybody is staring. It's a paparazzi moment only the royals of the system are (un)lucky enough to savor.
As they get closer to Maurice's locker, "is this the point where I walk you to class?" says Leroi while he leans on the adjacent locker with his legs crossed. Badboy mode activated.
"Yeah, get wings and carry me on your back while you're at it," slurs Maurice, rolling his eyes, his lips still curved in a grin. "No silly, that's enough show for today."
Thirty seconds later in silence, Leroi keeps staring at Maurice exchange materials with his locker like he's some endangered alien species.
"Leroiiii," Maurice groans, dropping his head on the iron. Leroi's eyes are unmoving and Maurice can swear Leroi's eyes are literally sparkling. "Stop it, ugh. Fix this Jesus."
"You're so beautiful. Maurice, I just can't help it."
The cerulean-eyed stringbean goes for Leroi's lips and munches on it for a while. Someone wolf whistles from behind. The moment Leroi tries to reach forward for more action is when Maurice withdraws, still giggling. Leroi's heart moans. "See you after school, babe."
"Bye. And stop looking so overbearing. I'm the top in this relationship remember? Stay in your place."
Leroi shakes his head, a smile creeping in. Exhaling deeply, he rests his head on the locker, lost in a trance of Maurice walking and slowly disappearing into the crowd but he is interrupted by the whiff of a particular person's Axe striking consciousness into his face.
"Hey what's--"
"Did I just see what I just saw?"
Kaolin is wearing a baggy kaftan striped with all colors of the rainbow, round beetle-eye glasses, and a furry bandana to belt his super mushroom afro. He looks like a hippy version of Super Mario's Toad but to say he's not a fucking sex god will be sacrilege against Mother Nature.
"Yes," Leroi deadpans, "you just saw what you just saw."
"Oh my god, I really just saw what I just saw"
"I just told you you just saw what I told you you just saw."
"So you actually just told me I just--"
"Okay okay, cut it out. Dang!" Leroi waves his hands at Kaolin who explodes in laughter. "What do you want?"
"How do I look?" Kaolin takes three steps backwards before gesturing from his shoulders to his waist and spinning anticlockwise. "Simply strolled to a thrift store that sells rare items and then this happened."
"Hmn hmn." Leroi unskins a banana he'd gotten from his locker and shoves more than half of it at once into his mouth after throwing Onika's sandwich in the trashbin. "I think it looks very flashy and doesn't well," he clicks his tongue, "fit your personality."
"Did you just dump your Mom's food?" Kaolin asks, although not completely surprised. It's typically Leroi being the rotten brat he's.
"It's just a bland peanut butter sandwich ew, who eats that?" Leroi picks his teeth boredly. "And her cooking is literally a horror show."
Kaolin subconsciously shakes his head.
"And what has my personality got to do with it?" Kaolin objects, a little disappointed what he's spent so much on--not really though, the complete apparel doesn't go beyond the 50$--got completely trashed like that.
"Sorry what?"
"My outfit, is it good or not?"
"Yeah, I guess."
There's silence for a while. Kaolin's mind wandering off to a distance and Leroi's eyes staying pressed on his friend's figure. This has to be the best Kaolin has ever looked apart from his bedroom face and Leroi is seriously eating him up. Of course he can't tell the other boy this; he's now in a relationship duh.
"Are you and ole boy a thing now?" The question is heavy on the tip of Kaolin's tongue but he balances all the words expertly to avoid suspicious spillage of what should not be spilled.
Leroi stop and slowly turns to Kaolin, his face slowly breaking into the brightest simper. "Yes!" He bounced Kaolin and engulfs him in a hug. "He said yes oh my god. We're a thing now."
"Well," Kaolin swallows, "congrats."
"Yeah, of course congrats lamebrain," Leroi teases, giving the other boy's ass a slap, "you're happy for me. Finally my love got what it deserves."
"I understand."
"What?" Leroi scrunches up his face and his brows collude in confused plicatures. "No, you don't." He strips the third banana which is more spotted than the rest. A spotty version of Bananas in Pajamas from JimJam.
Trust me, I do. "And please, cut your staring out," jaws Kaolin, a smirk beneath his cheeks. Of course, he knows Leroi is kinda--if not really really really--smitten with him; Leroi's emotions are like ads begging to be clicked and everything is pretty conspicuous.
Busted, and I oop. It takes seconds for Leroi to scramble through his mind for something to say. "So what? Because I'm in a relationship, I can't admire my best friend?"
"Well, technically--"
"Coach said training today starts very early," Leroi quickly changes the topic and Kaolin almost laughs at such a clown and child he's being. "Castleson is a walkover even for a cripple but we can't afford to take chances. Well," Leroi pausing the chuckle for bite the fifth banana, "asterisk that Coach won't afford to take chances."
Kaolin shrugs, unamused. "Good luck with that."
This causes Leroi to stop walking and he takes a suspicious look at Kaolin. "What do you mean good luck with that?"
"I quit the team."
Leroi goes silent for five seconds before "ha ha," he pours drily.
"Ha what?"
"Is today Dry Jokes Wednesday because last I checked, it's Tuesday, not April 1st today."
"Um whatever man but I called everything basketball quits in my life two days ago. Of course you wouldn't know--"
Leroi shakes his head. "Don't start with that."
"--but I'm going to focus on other things in my life that are sure to help me," Kaolin chews the words in the mouth as he twirls the single moon eardrop, "it's really eating my time into taking more offschool jobs and you're probably going to get the basketball scholarship so I'm gonna settle with at least the academic ones."
"Guy, you should've told me before taking this decision," Leroi whines, his eyebrows sad as he takes Kaolin's hands in his. He can't just bear to imagine his best friend leave what he loves doing so much and all because of what? "We all know you can play better than me. And it basically defaults on the captain. Guess who that is, well was, you!"
"I'm going to be fine fatty." Kaolin flashes a small sad smile and slowly withdraws his hand from the shorter's boy hold. "I'll always survive. And what the fuck, is that the sixth banana?"
♠♠♠
The gentle whirring of the airconditioner is probably the only thing calming out of every single pixel of this scene. Principal Kingsley applying finishing touches to a letter he's composing on his laptop, his fingers tapping on the keyboard and every single click on the mouse; every sound is accentuated by tension. Hell even Maurice's own heartbeat.
"So how was your day Maurice?" Kingsley asks from behind the monitor, his fingers still making noise and while the 5 o'clock twilight sun casts a pretty cantaloupe shade and a planeful of beams have crept into the room, Maurice can't help but fidget.
There's a jar of castle nuts on one edge of the table and a second jar of candy on the other. Maurice reaches for the nuts. Maybe chewing will disencumber some cramped nerves.
"Well," the boy swallows, cracking his fingers ever so often, "it was fun, with my new boyfriend." Emphasis on the word 'boyfriend'.
The keyboard tapping stops and Kingsley spares him a demanding glance.
"What? I said I had fun with my boyfriend."
The older man reclines into his chair, spinning a fountain pen between his fingers. Kingsley Thorne is handsome for his age; exactly what anyone who doesn't know exactly how old he is thinks. Barely thirty-five with a sturdy, stocky still slender and skyscraping stature, the only feature physically hinting at maturity is the sleek M hairline.
"Let me guess, the rich brat. Leroi Slayberry." He doesn't wait for Maurice's reply, stands from his seat and barrels towards him in slicker strides. He doesn't need it because he knows.
"Yes, the 'brat'," Maurice voices with an erect sneer, the thick Axe perfume lubing and jerking off his nostrils. "How did you know this anyways?"
Kingsley tilts his head, ogling the younger boy calculatingly. "I've my ways or," the man's statuesque fingers run down Maurice's nose, his jawline and with white pleasure down to his collarbone, "you want us to stop?"
Of course fucking not, Maurice replies him. The only thing real about the 'relationship' between he and Leroi is Leroi's obsession with him. The rest is pure plastic. Fake like the gold on Kingsley's belt. It feels satisfyingly cold to touch against Maurice's fingers.
"I--"
"I saved you, Maurice. I helped you out of your misery and will continue to, no matter what. It has always been me. I'll always be there for you." Kingsley wraps his hands around Maurice's equally slender neck and Maurice's veins ripple in hedonic hallelujah. "Nobody can do it like I do. You know this, you still want us to stop?"
Maurice moves further up and to a hairy gymed up abdomen of rocks. They're literally breathing inches apart on each other's faces but Kingsley's speeds up when Maurice claws his nails in the muscular slab of waist.
"And why would I ever want that?"
______________________________
And i oop and i oop and i oop..
So i finally drafted the last of this story's outline and heartbreakingly found out there's still fifteen chapters to go..oh well..vote and tell me what you think..
[EDITED]