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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.
