Peaches 'N Cream

18. Flesh

JOSEPH LET OUT A DEEP SIGH AND LAID BACK ONTO HIS BED, TOO IRRITATED TO GO OUT ON TO THE FARM RIGHT NOW.

He was pent up and frustrated from school, work, football, and Jericho, like a tightly wound coil ready to violently unravel at any given moment. He'd been slacking off and his dad was probably starting to notice.

If this were a few months ago, he'd just text Jessica. She was always willing to come over, although she never seemed to understand the no-strings attached memo. But this was now. And, right now, he wanted Jericho. Wanted to fuck him, cuddle, just hear his voice. He'd take anything, it was getting bad.

He said he could call but what if he didn't answer? He wasn't exactly subtle when he ditched him for another guy, but how long was he going to let that bother him? The blond just wanted to know whether this asshole would be any real threat to the progression of their relationship.

Even if he was competition, he was pretty confident in his ability to beat his ass if he ever tried to get in the way regardless. Jericho probably wouldn't take kindly to him hurting his friends, though, if that's what he was, so he pulled up their messages again.

Tapping the FaceTime icon right below his name and waiting, if he didn't pick up, at least no one could say that he didn't try. But, when the call started connecting and a soft, "hey" came through the line, he almost melted right into his mattress.

The brown-haired boy's face popped up on to the screen, his long fingers mid-cornrow, and he smiled. Albeit a small one, it was still a smile with dimples and everything else that made it the prettiest thing in the world. His chain and the hickeys he left were just the icing on the cake.

"Hey, 'Cho."

Joseph let the grin he bit back earlier to split across his face. He probably looked stupid as hell too, beaming at the screen. But, he didn't even care anymore; his enthusiasm almost overrode his frustration from earlier.

It didn't even come close to the anxiety he felt, though, because Jericho got off the phone earlier, it seemed like his mood did a 180. He looked miserable.

They both began speaking at the same time, "Are you—" so, he paused and let Jericho finish first, "Sorry," he laughed, "everything alright?"

He nodded, watching the other finish another long braid, "Yeah, 'm alright, baby. I was just worried about you, is all. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Jericho went still for a moment, "Yeah, I think I'm going to be fine." Saying it with a nod and more confidence the second time. "Sorry for acting weird earlier." It seemed like he was trying to reassure himself more than anything.

The blond began rehearsing in his head what he was going to say but his mind blanked completely when the other boy backed up and turned around to grab something. His tank-top cut off right above his v-line and his ass was made for those pajama pants. That wasn't why he was so surprised, though.

He wasn't thinking about it a few minutes ago, but Jericho never let anyone catch him slipping. Hair was always perfect, and his clothes color-coordinated, not a wrinkle in sight. So, the fact that he answered the phone, a FaceTime call no less, like this was new.

Hair only ~35% done, and in whatever he was already wearing too, meant he was comfortable enough around him to do so. That's what was doing things to him, particularly in the upper left region of his chest.

"You lookin' fine, too."

He studied him one last time, mumbling just loud enough so he could hear him. Jericho spun around and lifted an eyebrow, squinting his eyes while looking at him like he was crazy, "Mhm, ok." In the driest possible tone in the world. He took that as a challenge.