Peaches 'N Cream

26. Blood

THERE WAS BLOOD EVERYWHERE. On his hands, staining his face, and the majority of it had dripped onto his white shirt when he was driving. Ezekiel stumbled through the door of his apartment and made his way inside of the kitchen.

Cleaning the sensitive area as gingerly as he could, he could only stand the water pressure from the tap for a few seconds at a time, so the process was tedious.

That country bumpkin broke his fucking nose. It was nearly three am in the morning when he finally got home. The campus hospital was already closed, so he'd have to suck it up and hope he didn't drown in his own blood until tomorrow morning.

When Parr- no. When Jericho called him, he didn't know what to expect. Meeting Turner and getting his nose smashed into his skull wasn't it, though. He's been in physical fights before, lived in Brooklyn with all those racist white kids for years, so someone had to put them in their place.

But, Joseph? That guy was built like a school bus, and he nearly lost consciousness when he had him in a chokehold seconds before. The raven-haired man cut on the bathroom light, checking his face in the mirror confirmed that it was indeed broken.

Burgundy and navy blue, slightly crooked as well. When it healed, it wouldn't be a pretty sight. He growled at the sight, lashing out before he could catch himself, and shattered the glass in his mirror with his fist.

"Fuck!"

His knuckles were bleeding now too, everything about the whole situation was wrong. Very wrong. If the aim was to scare him off so they could live happily ever after, it wasn't fucking happening. Regardless of whether or not Joseph was who he thought he was.

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Two years ago

Jericho shoved his house keys into his hoodie pocket and scrambled to pull on his converse as quietly as he could. Bus pass in hand; he hadn't even been able to touch the knob on the door before a sleepy voice spoke a few feet behind him. He cursed internally, knowing he should've left an hour beforehand, but he was exhausted.

"You leaving again, huh? Not surprised. Where you going so early this time?"

It was Saturday, 6 am in the morning, Jordan was still supposed to be sleeping. The brown-haired boy usually takes the bus to his house after class on Fridays.

He tries not to stay the night after they have sex, though, because he knows he'll try to keep him at his apartment for the entire weekend. He's done it before, and his mom nearly bit his head off and buried it in the backyard when he finally got home.

He always has an excuse whenever he brings up his hesitance to stay longer, but today he wasn't prepared. Ever since the junior dropped out of Alamance, they didn't see each other often enough for it to be an issue. Turning around, his amber met the taller's brown irises.

"Back to my crib, Jor. Why?"

He grinned, tucking his full bottom lip into his mouth. "Mm, I love it when you say my name like that. But," he walked closer and pulled a phone, Jericho's, out of his cream pajama pants pocket and held it up, "without this? You left it on my nightstand. It woke me up, actually."

He could tell Jordan was in one of his moods, this was a familiar one. Earlier, he was sleep-deprived, but he fucked Jericho and himself right to sleep. Now, he just seemed irritated, sensitive. Not mad but it'd be way easier to piss him off now.