Thanksgiving; November 25, 1999
Smutt
The Smiths are hosting Thanksgiving at their house and when I say everyone is here... I'm slightly exaggerating, they family and the only people I fuck with is here. My family, and theirs, all co-mingling. It's still pretty early in the day, around one something, so everybody just chilling.
Psych is here with his gal, I'm here with Ericka, Arique is here by himself, and Joshua is on his way too, from my understanding. Weasel is here, I'm not sure why since his mother throws down every year on Thanksgiving. But what really threw me for a loop was Corey showing up with Mama Janie. I don't fuck with him though.
Crazy thing is, nobody else batted and eye, so I guess I was the only one that didn't know that they were together. "How come you ain't tell me you was a mutt, youngsta?" Mr. Smith asks me handing me a beer before plopping down next to me.
"I didn't think it was important to know." I shrug my shoulders.
"I guess you right, don't ask don't tell." He laughs it off. "How you been doin'? Business goin' good?"
"Business is good sir. How retirement treatin' you, Mr. Smith?"
"It's all good, I get to spend quality time with my family. It's good to spend time with the generations you helped create." He smiles fondly. "I've been meanin' to thank you for givin' Bubba that job down at yo' shop too. It's keepin' him outta trouble." He pats my shoulder.
"It ain't no problem sir. Y'all have always treated me like family so it ain't nothin' really." I take a swig of the beer, watching as Arique talks to Corey on the love seat. "Poo is good at his job." I say tearing my eyes away from them.
"Oh lord," Mr. Smith shakes his head. "Jamie got you callin' him that shit huh?" He laughs a little afterward.
"Yessir." I laugh along with him. "I just do it to get on his nerves, he hates that nickname."
"Oh I know," he laughs some more. "One day when his Aunt Janie was pickin' him up from school, he was standin' there actin' like he ain't wanna get in the car to come home. So she started yelling out Poo real loud." We both start laughing kind of loud making the two of them look over at us. "The next day at school he got picked on. You know kids be the meanest lil motha fucka's. He asked the twins not to call him that no mo'." He finishes shrugging his shoulders.
"Really PawPaw?" Arique straight faces him. "Where is the loyalty?"
"Boy gon' head on." Mr. Smith waves him off.
"So where did the name Bubba come from?" I asked out of curiosity.
"Bookie been callin' him that since she started talkin'. We treat them like brother and sister so we'd be like go get ya' brother and she would yell out Bubba." He shrugs with a smile. "Stuck wit' me better than Pookie ever did." He shakes his head. "We tried to give them twin nicknames since we treated 'em like twins."
"You told me somethin' different, Arique." Corey tells him with a smirk.
He ain't tell me nothin' at all.
"I definitely didn't, I just told you about a specific incident. Either way I was bullied." He rolls his eyes.
"I find it funny how you started dating his ainie, Carrie. You used to stay getting his ass in trouble. Neva understood why a grown ass man wanted to hang out wit' a youngin'." His grandfather addresses Corey.
"I'm sorry sir, my name is Corey."
"Well which is it?"
"What you mean sir?" Corey makes a confused face.
"First you said you was sorry, then you said ya name was Corey. So do I call you sorry or Corey?"
This old nigga is throwed. I think to myself, not trying to hide the fact that I'm amused.
"My name is Corey."
"That ain't what I said at first?" He asks seriously.
"Naw Paw Paw, you called him Carrie." Arique answers him sounding irritated.
Noted.
"Anyway." Mr. Smith waves his grandson off again. "Was you tryna get in with the family back then or somethin'?" He asks Corey.
"Naw. I mean, I thought his ainie was fine and all but, we used to just kick it. I wasn't trying to get him into trouble." Corey says to Mr. Smith.
"And in what ways can a grown man kick it wit' a kid?" Mr. Smith looks like he is getting a little hostile.
"What is the problem Paw Paw? Why you ain't ask him this stuff back then? It don't really matter now do it?" Arique crosses his arms with an attitude.
Noted.
"It don't, but I feel like thats where I fucked up. I was too focused on working to really be the father figure I needed to be. I partly blame myself for letting this old ass nigga introduce you to the street life."
"Well you raised me right Paw Paw. I chose to do bad on my own." Arique says smartly.
He really on a roll today huh? My nigga said that like it was some shit to be proud of.
"With the help of this muh fucka." He points at Corey. "But hey, if thats what you choose to do then so be it. I just hoped you woulda learned ya lesson the first time from hangin' wit' this fool. Ain't too much I can do nih since you a grown ass man." He takes a swig of his beer.
"He ain't make me do nothin' I'an wanna do PawPaw. He wa-"
"Say Mr. Smith, you was supposed to show me the man cave you been workin' on." I interrupt what I know was going to turn into an argument. I didn't want to hear him defend this dude, and I'm sure his grandfather feels the same way.
Mr. Smith exhales a deep breath, looking ready to fight. "Yeah, c'mon youngsta." He raises up, looking over at a defiant looking Arique again before shaking his head and walking off.
I go ahead and follow him out of the living-room without sparing either of them a glance. "My apologies young blood." He starts once we make it to the basement. "I just don't like that nigga. Neva did. I feel like he was doin' some creep shit wit' my grand-baby, and I feel fucked up abaht it 'cause-you know what." He shakes his head cutting off his own ranting. "Ain't none of this yo' problem, Smutt. My bad fa' ranting."
"You good sir. I would feel the same way in your shoes." I polish off my beer and set the bottle down on the end table near the reclining chair.
"Yeah. That whole friendship they got is just weird, always has been. For the longest time I thought he was tryna make my grandson funny."
"What'chu mean, Pops?" My brows furrow.
"You know," he gives me a look that tells me I should know what he means. I shake my head to let him know that I don't. "A fuck-boy."
Ahh. I get it now.
"Did you ever ask him?"
"Naw, how you ask another man that without him getting offended? 'Specially if it ain't true." He shakes his head.
Well... "Then it really shouldn't matter then." I shrug my shoulders. "If you don't care enough to ask then you really don't want nor need the answer."
"You right." He daps me up. "You a wise young nigga, keep it up." He smirks at me. "Anyway," and he goes on to show me his TV with everything set up. Only thing that still needs work is the bar. He really got it laid out down here.
"I like it Mr. Smith. You hosting the parties and stuff for the AllStar games when you finish it up?" I ask him smiling.
"Hell yeah youngin." He daps me up.
We stay in the basement for a short while just chopping it up, until Arique comes down here with us.
"What'chu need, Bubba?" Mr. Smith asks him.
"Granny said she need you to run to the lil Indian corner store up the street for her right quick." Arique tells him.
"You couldn't go?"
"No sir, she specifically asked for you." Arique tells him.
"Aight, Smutt. I'll be back." He says getting up off of the La-Z-Boy he has in his man-cave.
"Aight, Mr. Smith. You sure you good to drive? I can drive you if you need me to."
"Lil nigga I been doin' this since before you was swimmin' around in yo' daddy's nut sack." He tells me jokingly. "I need to ride around and clear my head for a little bit anyway."
"Aight then, Pops. Be safe." I tell him getting up so I can go back upstairs.
"Aight. You're more than welcome to turn on the game in here if you want to."
"Naw, I'ma let'chu be the one to break ya new flat screen in sir." I pat his back laughing.
"Oh I already did that. Go 'head and put it on the game. I think its supposed to be the Cowboys versus the Dolphins."
"Aight." I go ahead and sit back down with the remote in my hand as he walks up and out of the basement.
"So y'all pahtna's?" Arique jokes taking a seat next to me on the couch after the door closes.
"I guess so." I tell him flipping through the channels.
"You mad about somethin'?"
"What I gotta be mad fa'?" I still don't look over at him.
"I don't know, thats why I'm asking."
"Naw, I'm chillin'." I finally look over at him, reassuring him with a smile.
"Okay." He smiles back at me and pecks my lips twice. "What y'all was talkin' about?"
"Nothin'. Just his plans for this man-cave and shit." I shrug looking back at the TV.
"What'chu been up to?" He asks me.
Yeah, we ain't really chilled like that since we all got together for Joshua's birthday thing. We meet up to fuck, but thats really it.
"Shit, I been coolin'." I keep it short. "How you been?"
"I been good. I went lookin' for vacant spots for a tattoo shop." He cheeses real big.
"That's wha'sup! You been takin' care of business I see." I smile at him genuinely happy for him.
"Yeah. I told you I got goals baby." He take my hand in his, and wraps my arm around his shoulders and leans into me. "By the way, I'ma start doin' buku overtime so I can get the money for the shop I want."
"Thats cool wit' me." I kiss the top of his head. "I miss you." I say lowly, tilting his head by his chin, then leaning toward his face to give him a slow, loving kiss.
"I miss you, too." He looks up at me with a smile. The smile doesn't reach his eyes though. "How much you make a day sellin'?" He asks quietly.
What the fuck? I take my arm from around him and scoot back some to get a good look at him. He has to be fucking with me right now. "Nigga what you just ask me?" I laugh a little even though I found nothing funny. Maybe I heard him wrong though.
"I was gon' start hustlin' on the side to help me save up some money faster."
Is this nigga fa' real?
"Nigga is you serious?" I scrunch my face up.
"Yeah I'm serious." His expression mirrors mine now.
"I'm not finna throw you in the dope game, Arique. That's a whole different ball game I'on think you ready fa'." I yell him seriously.
"You don't have to. I just figured I could trust you enough to show me and not fuck me over."
"You would be right about that, but I'm not finna help you get in the shit. Fuck you in a hurry fa' anyway, Arique? What happened to you workin' to save up for it?"
"I found a place that I really like and I don't want nobody else to get it."
"You know you can do a lease to own type thing right? You don't have to outright buy the property."
"But I wanna own my shit. When me and Corey went to see the property the lady said that two other people were interested in buying it above the market price. Corey said he would help me sell work to pay for it since he felt like he owed me for doin' time for him."
Fa real? He really believes that shit?
"Well I'ma tell you like this, favor ain't fair. If it's fa' you ain't nothin' nobody on earth can do to take away yo' blessin'. I really wouldn't feel right puttin' you in some shit that could be harmful to you."
"You tryna be the only nigga from the hood that made it?" He frowns up at me.
What the fuck?
"Fuck you talm'baht?" I know my face is ugly right now by how genuinely confused I am. "Nigga this is the damn 'burbs, where you grew up all yo' damn life." I mean it's slightly slummed, but it ain't the fucking trenches I grew up in. It's a middle class mostly black neighborhood where all the grandkids of the working class older generation became fuck ups. "Why would you think I wouldn't want to see you win?"
"'Cause you goin' outta yo' way to not put me up on game. I just need some work to sell for me to come up, I'an tryna do the shit forever, Smutt."
Smutt huh?
"I'll buy the place for you then."
"Naw, I wanna get it on my own with no hand outs. I don't want nobody sayin' I came up off them."
Wow.
"Well I'on know what to tell you. I'an puttin' no fuckin' work in yo' hands. You tryna get it out the mud, then do it like the rest of us. Ain't nobody put shit in my hands, I worked for this shit." I turn to the TV, letting it be known that I'm through with the conversation.
"Why you ain't lacin' me up like you usually do, daddy? I'm jus' tryna stack my bread quicker." He kisses along my neck.
This nigga has to be joking. "I gave you some free game, you just ain't want it." I shrug my shoulders, ignoring his advances.
"You really ain't gon' put me on huh?" He reels back in disbelief. I continue to ignore him though. "Fine, Smutt." He huffs pulling away from me and crossing his arms over his chest.
It's quiet for a while before he tries to spark up another conversation. "How my cousin been?"
I know he talks to her at least a few times a week.
"Say, bro, you'on gotta sit up and try to force some typa conversation wimme." I don't even turn to look at him to tell him. "Dry ass convo, makin' shit weird."
We sat in silence for a solid ten minutes before I hear the basement door open. I look up to see his boyfriend coming down to look for him. "Lil C? You dahn here?" Corey comes down the stairs alone.
"Yeah," Arique answers him standing up to meet him toward the bottom of the steps.
Squa'e biz?
"Wha'sup, Corey? What'chu need?" I see Corey pinch Arique's wrist in my peripheral.
"You know, I just realized I never caught yo name." Corey says to me.
"Yeah, I neva' threw it." I don't face him to answer.
"Damn you usually on some friendly shit. What's goin' on wit'cha pahnta?" He smirks at me.
"Shit." I don't feel like this man deserves a proper conversation from me.
"I got'chu mad?" He laughs.
"Corey what are you talkin' about?" Arique intervenes.
"Oh shit, I thought you told him how you let me taste it again. Thought that's what had this niggas panties wound up. He ain't gettin' shit no mo'." He smirks. Arique makes a surprised face like he can't believe he just said that.
Fa' real?
"Why woul-" Arique starts to say before I cut him off.
"Naw, he ain't tell me that, so you must not know what'chu doin'." I smirk at him even though I'm .38 hot. I stand up and grab my meat "this keep him from doin' too much talkin' though, so that might be why." They both look down at the hand that's grabbing my dick.
I start to walk towards the stairs so I can get up out of here before I start swinging. "Why the fuck would you say that shit, Corey?!" I hear Arique raise his voice. "It wasn't even that fuckin' serious for you to be-" I walk out of the basement not even wanting to hear the rest of what he was saying.
I found that situation comical and frustrating all at the same time. I'm not even going to be fucked up about it. I knew the nigga was still in love with Corey, so it is what it is. When I get to the living room I see Joshua is finally here. Not alone though, KiKi is sitting with him.
"What it do lil bro?" He daps me up when I sit down next to him. I give him a quick nod not really in the mood to talk. "You straight?" He arches an eyebrow in question.
I shake my head slightly to let him know that I'm not, and I didn't want to talk about it either. Psych comes and sits on the love seat that was unoccupied.
"I'm hungry den a hoe." He mutters, mostly to himself, but we all heard him.
"He'yeah." Joshua agrees with him.
"Hey Kie'Anne." Psych speaks to her smirking.
"Wha'sup Darrin." She waves at him, laying her head on Joshua's shoulder.
"Y'all through playin' huh?" I ask my big bro smiling, trying to keep from thinking about Arique. If he wants to be a crash dummy I'll let him. I hate to waste my breath.
"Smutt, you know yo' brother was the one that was playin'." KiKi rolls her eyes, but has a smile on her face.
"Naw, that was you." He smirks down at her.
"Any-fuckin'-way." KiKi rolls her eyes, smile still intact, "where Boo at?"
"She was taking a nap in her t lady room last I saw her." I let KiKi know.
"I'm finna go check on her." KiKi pecks Josh on the lips before getting up to go check on her, like she said she was.
"You ready to lock it dahn finally big bro?" I smirk at him.
"Mann, shut up. I was waitin' on her to be ready to get locked dahn." He tells me.
"You smell'at, Smutt?" Psych asks me sniffing the air.
"He'yeah," I sniff the air too. "Smell like straight bullshit." Me and Psych dap each other up laughing.
"Fuck boff'a you bitches." Joshua says. This nigga play all got damn day, but can't stand for a mother fucker to play back. Well only when it comes to her. Tenda' dick ass.
"Ahh shit, here this man go bein' a big bitch." Psych says.
"Fuck you, you hoe ass nigga." Josh mean mugs him.
"Bitch chill," I smack Josh in the chest with the back of my hand pretty hard. "Talkin' to my lil bro like he some mark ass nigga. Plus you ain't finna disrespect the in-laws house."
"You know betta than to lay hands on me bitch ass nigga." He elbows me in the ribs.
"Y'all chill bruh," Psych starts, already knowing where this is heading. I hate to be hit, and so does Josh, only difference is Josh can control his temper a little better than I can, and he's naturally more playful. I be ready to see blood, hard down ready to fight. "Lets walk up the block to the park if y'all tryna fade that shit." Psych gets up.
"Shit, lets get it." Josh gets up, "you owe me a round too bitch." He tells Psych punching him in his chest. When it connected it made a noise, causing the people that were in the living room to stop faking like they weren't listening to us argue and watch closely.
"Say less, bitch." Psych slaps the back of his head. Mr. Smith walks in the front door with a corner store bag, at the same time as Arique walks in the living room, of course his boyfriend not too far behind him.
"Aight nih youngin's, if y'all gon' fight take that shit to the back yard." Mr. Smith tells us walking to the kitchen real quick to set the bag down and run back out.
"We goin' up the block, Mr. Smith. We not tryna disrespect yo' house." Psych tells him.
"Y'all ain't gotta do all'at. Go to the back yard, duke it aht and come back in." He reassures us. "Matta' fact, lemme go get my boxing gloves."
He goes to the garage to get the gloves.
"Are y'all serious?" Arique looks at me to answer him. I'm still pissed at him so I don't.
"Lil Arique, you done seen us throw body-shots befo'. Don't act like you'on know whats goin' on." Psych tells him taking his shirt off, along with J. By this time the mama twins and grandmother walked from the kitchen to see what the problem is.
"What y'all got goin' on, Darrin?" Jamie asks my brother with a look of confusion and concern.
"Nothin' bae. We playin', a lil brotherly bonding activity." He reassures her, well tried to anyway. The look on her face doesn't change so I know she's not buying it.
Mr. Smith comes back just in time though. He had four pair of boxing gloves. Two of the pair look to be pretty new, while the other pair are kind of worn out.
"No disrespect in-law, but them gloves look old as Methuselah." Psych says.
"They really do though, sir." I say and Josh nods in agreement.
"Sound like y'all really scared to get aht there." He taunts us.
Us being us, we just start heading to the back yard. As soon as we outside I come out of my shirt. I go ahead and get a pair of the newer looking ones from Mr. Smith, not really caring who I was going to box. I'm just ready to throw hands. There is a small crowd of family members out here to watch the fight.
Joshua is who grabs the gloves first. "Yeah nigga, we ain't had a good fight in a minute. I'ma dog you." Joshua taunts.
"Aight nih lil nigga's, wit' the gloves on it's a good, clean fight. Y'all still brothers at the end of this shit."
"Ahh shit, y'all finna fade that shit?" Weasel comes out of the house looking all excited, rubbing his hands together and shit.
"Right up my alley," Psych smiles like the Cheshire cat. "You tryna go?" He asks Weasel.
"Mann you trippin'. I jus' came aht to enjoy the show." Weasel waves him off.
"You smell it, Josh?" Psych starts sniffing the air, right along with Joshua.
"He'yeah. You smell it, Smutt?" He asks me. So I sniff the air to see.
"I think-"
"I definitely smell it," Mr. Smith joins us.
"Fa sho' smell like," Psych starts.
"Pussy!" Mr. Smith yells.
"Y'all got me fucked up, ain't nobody pussy." Weasel says, looking slighted. "'Specially you, pale face, you ain't shit to be scared of."
"Well let's go then pahtna." Psych smiles at him mischievously.
"Shit, let's go." Weasel comes out of his shirt, and both of them grab boxing gloves from Mr. Smith.
"Aight, y'all know the rules to boxin'," Mr. Smith starts. "Nih y'all can either duke it out all at the same time, or y'all can go one after the other. I jus' know after this it's either squashed, or y'all take y'all ass on somewhere else."
"Got dammit, James! Quit doin' all'at motha fuckin' cussin' around these women and children. Shit!" I would have thought she was joking had I not seen the look on her face.
I look over a little and see Arique walk outside, of course his boyfriend is right there. The twins are standing next to them this time though.
"Hush, woman! If they don't wanna hear they need to take they assess back in the damn house."
"Smutt, what in the world is goin' on?" Ericka comes outside with KiKi not too far behind her. "Wendell, why all y'all got gloves on?" She asks me and Weasel.
"We jus' finna play a game of tag is all." Weasel is the one that answers her.
"Ugh, it's too cold outside fa' all this." She wobbles back into the house.
"It is cold out here, and y'all sittin' u-" KiKi was saying before I got the wind knocked out of me.
Damn, I forgot how hard Joshua hits. I take in as much air as I can and swing, aiming for his chest. When we were younger, if we took our time to try and catch our breath, he would keep punching us in the chest until we fought back or was damn near passed out.
I connected my hit, but it ain't do what I wanted it to. So I followed up with a gut punch. Unlike most people my power side is my left, so when I throw that bitch hard, it throws people off. When he folded, I ain't have no qualms about uppercutting his chest with that mighty left. I can faintly hear the family in the background hooting and hollering, or making bets about the winner.
Now we both heaving for air, but we ain't quit swinging. We start going blow for blow with the body-shots. I can tell when Josh started getting mad for real, for real when he started putting more power behind them hits. That, and the nigga aimed for a head shot that I weaved right on time.
"That's what'chu on, bro?" I ask him in my stance.
"Yeah, nigga. C'mon," he tells me punching his gloved fists together aggressively.
I tune out the sounds and stuff going on around me. I don't even respond I just automatically throw a straight jab, to which he dodged. He shouldn't have done that though because I immediately followed up with a leftt hook. Even though we're fighting, I'm not trying to demolish my brother, so I'm not using all of my strength.
Josh definitely made his trip down worth his while. This man threw me a powerful hook right into my side, with a quick follow up jab to the chest, and an immediate cross to the face. My body didn't know which way to fall or close in. I stayed aware of my footing though. Josh was throwing power punches, but I could tell that he was still holding back quite a bit.
Josh hits hard, this man has knocked somebody's eye out of the socket before. I've seen him do some real damage. I can only be thankful that he is taking it easy on me. Even though he is angry and busted a nigga lip, I'm still thankful. I ain't let him just have me out here looking like I can't fight though. If I let him beat my ass too bad, he'll beat my ass, for beating my ass. Big brother shit.
I stay with him, going blow for blow. Josh is holding back in power, but I'm holding my own toe-to-toe. I got hands, but I have never won a fight against Joshua, today was no different. But it was good to release some damn tension. I'm not as irritated as I was. After what felt like forever, but in reality was only four straight minutes, we stopped. When we finished we both spit blood out of our mouths, we hugged it out and did our little sentimental shit, then hopped up out of the gloves. Both of us were breathing like we ran a marathon.
"What y'all waitin' on, Psych?" Josh looks at him questioningly. I look to see that they took their gloves off.
"This man said he ain't wanna fight in the old gloves, J." Psych points his thumb to Weasel with a irritated look. "So we was waitin' on y'all to finish."
With that being said, J and me went ahead and handed them the gloves that we had taken off.
"Sound to me like the young nigga was scared. What y'all think?" Mr. Smith asks.
"Definitely, Mr. Smith." J shakes him up with a laugh. "Psych, you let this nigga beat you up, I'm hoggin' you." J let's it be known.
"You lucky Mr. Smith right here so I can't talk how I want. But you definitely know better, J." They dap it out.
"Y'all good, youngsta. It's a fight, get everythang off ya chest."
"I'm straight, Mr. Smith." Psych looks over to see Weasel taking his sweet time with putting the gloves on. "I'm finna steal off on you if you don't hurry up, dude." Psych says annoyed.
"Chill, white boy. This ass whoopin' comin' regardless." Weasel smirks at him, still taking his time. "Cat got'cha tongue, yeen got shit to say?"
Psych's only response is to smile real big and shake his head. Josh and me know that when he gets in that fighting mood, he isn't going to do too much talking . If Psych is at that point, he's not going to say anything until he's finished fighting. It may have something to do with they fought before, years ago to which Psych beat Weasel ass which is why he ain't tripping. It was supposed to be playful back then, but Weasel got serious and got his ass beat. They haven't thrown hands, nor has Weasel play boxed any of us since then.
After an eternity, Weasel is finally ready. "Come on so I can wear that ass aht, whitey."
Psych's smile never leaves, he walks further into the yard punching his fists together twice before getting into his boxing stance.
As soon as Weasel gets his guard up, Psych throws a fake one making Weasel flinch. When he flinched he wasn't paying attention to his footwork, which Psych noticed and used to his advantage. Psych caught him with a deadly one to the chest, creating a loud sound. Weasel immediately caved in, trying to catch his breath. Psych gave him about twenty seconds, which is longer than what Joshua would have allowed, and hit him with another one to the chest. Weasel shakes his head and boxing gloved hands, and backs up.
"Let'em breathe, lil bro." J yells out to Psych. It takes a long little while for Weasel to get it together, but when he does, they immediately get in their guards. This time, Weasel is the first to throw a punch, going straight for his face.
"Watch'eem, Psych!" Josh tells him. It was a waste of breath really, because Psych had already dodged the punch and came with a follow-up of his own. Unlike Weasels, Psychs hit connected. The fight was pretty much curtains after that. Weasel got his ass whooped by a long shot. Every time Weasel connected with Psych, it was like a boost for Psych who smiled through the whole damn thing. He kept it light though. It's weird, because Weasel can fight on the cool. But when you grow up with a brother like Josh, ain't no losing no fights. At all.
They went at it for a solid two and a half minutes before Weasel decided he could no longer handle it. Wasn't no super hard exchanges. Weasel lip got busted, but his shit not leaking like how Josh and mine was. "You betta had won lil bro." I dap him up, smiling like a proud father or some shit. My smile pales in comparison to Joshua's though. Nigga look borderline sentimental hugging him up and shit.
"You wasn't rootin' fa' me pahtna?" Weasel asks once his breathing somewhat evens out.
"Not when you fighting my brother, naw." I tell him straight up.
"Yeah, white boy got them thangs. I'an gon' fuck wit' him no mo'." Weasel is playful still, dapping it out with Psych. Thank God. "It's 'cause I smoke hella weed though fam. My endurance ain't shit." He tells my brother.
Here he go. I thought to myself. Just like a nigga to make an excuse as to why he lost a fight.
"Whatever you say bruh." I shake my head with a smirk.
Out of my peripheral, I see Arique making his way over to me.
"Can I holla at'chu right quick?" He asks me.
"Wha'sup?" I face him with a neutral face.
He gives me a look that I don't even try to decipher. So I lift my hands in a way that says, "what" without having to open my mouth.
"In private right quick." He suggests.
I nod my head in Corey's direction to which Arique follows my movement. He watching Ariques every move. His gal on his arm though so he can't say or do nothing. "I'on think 'ol boy would like that." I tell him slipping my shirt back over my head.
"Please stop playin', Delontae."
"Nah you quit playin'." I smirk at him. "You know I go by Smutt only."
Arique makes a face that looks sad, but my feelings are hurt too, so he is going to have to thug that shit out. "You for real?" he asks in a low voice.
"I ain't fa' play, play." I let my smirk drop, so he can see my seriousness.
Arique lets his face scrunch up in disbelief, and jerks his head back while letting a short huff escape his mouth that is agape.
"'S'cuse me." I walk around him to go back in the house.
I can feel him following behind me. "Delontae, hol'up." He grabs my arm to stop me once I made it to the bathroom in the hallway. I politely grab his hand to remove it from my arm.
"Wha'sup, Bubba?"
"You have never called me that." Why is he pouting like he's really sad or something? His eyes are watering, looking to be pleading and desperate. "Are you mad at me?" His voice cracks just a little.
"Naw." I give him a smile. "Why you ask that?"
"Stop playin', Delontae. You know what the fuck I'm talkin' about. Let me exp-" I yank him up by his throat up against the wall by the bathroom door. Not too hard, just enough to let him know I'll fuck him up. I look around for any listening ears before I speak.
"Watch how the fuck you talkin' ta me, Arique. I been lettin' yo' lil ass slide, but you got me fucked all the way up." I say very lowly in his ear. His little horny ass bites his bottom lip, so I grip his neck a little tighter. That didn't work either, this man grabs my dick. "Naw, that ain't fa' you no mo'." I smirk letting his neck go. "Tell ya nigga handle up." I walk in the bathroom not waiting, nor wanting his response.
This finna be a long ass Thanksgiving.
********************
So...
Is Corey cappin'..?
Is Smutt wrong for reacting
the way he did..?
What y'all think Arique
got goin' on..?
Any thoughts/questions
in general ?
Please excuse any errors as I was too lazy to proofread. Feel free to lmk in the comments where I messed up at. ☺️