Jericho walked up to him and the raven-haired man continued to stare him down in silence. He cocked his head, frown deepening as he gazed over the marks on his neck.

Jericho should've just stayed inside the school and left with Joey through a different exit. Sneaking out would have been significantly better than the psychological degradation he was receiving.

The brown-haired boy couldn't describe what he felt when he was around Ezekiel as anything except for shame or fear; it felt like he was swimming in concrete.

"Ezekiel—"

He cut him off while unlocking the door.

"Get in."

He didn't want to go, the tears beginning to well up in his eyes made the situation worse. Zeke came back and that unfamiliar stinging sensation turned into a common occurrence.

"Just listen to m—"

"Jericho, now."

It wasn't fair because Jericho already had to be even more careful about everything he said or did now around this short tempered asshole. Joseph already knew about the guy somehow, who knows what he'd do if he saw him with fresh bruises?

Jericho put his bag in first and got in the passenger seat, the other man got in right after he did to start the car. The engine's soft purr managed to fill the tense silence. But, the knuckles on Ezekiel's hand were stark white because of the grip he had on the steering wheel.

His jaw was set, the winding muscles in his face like cables underneath his skin, and eventually, they reached a traffic light. Jericho attempted to ask where they were going. But, there was no response aside from him turning up the music. He didn't deserve this shit.

So, the brown-haired boy kept his mouth shut until he parked the sports-car outside of a small tattoo shop 15 minutes later. His eyes narrowed as Ezekiel got out of the car; he stayed seated with the seatbelt still firmly strapped over his body. Jericho wasn't moving until the other man told him what the hell they were about to go and do.

Zeke leaned down to the passenger side window, "you going to get out?" This was by no means a joke, but Jericho, being the stubborn son of a bitch that he was, met his eyes with a blank look, gold diving into copper.

"Tell me why we're here, and I will."

He sighed softly and ran a hand down his face.

"You're getting a daith piercing. It's supposed to help with migraines."

The brown-haired boy unbuckled the seatbelt and stepped out of the car, mumbling "How hard was that." Closing the door and catching up with Ezekiel.

He grabbed the back of his neck and held him still, "Fix your face before they think I did this shit and call the cops; he did a number on you."

He considered making a scene but he also didn't want to deal with the police, it wouldn't end well. The raven-haired man opened the door to the shop for him, and they walked into the building. The walls were different shades of black, and hundreds of posters with tattoo designs and photos of other customers with piercings littered the walls.

They passed a small seating area and walked straight to the back after the woman at the counter nodded at Ezekiel. Said person was currently piercing someone else's ears, they lingered near the black curtains waiting for him to finish. After about five minutes, the guy's hands were washed, and he was walking over with a charming smile.

All he had piercing-wise was a vertical one on his eyebrow and a nose ring, but as far as tattoos go, there wasn't a patch of his ivory skin left free of ink aside from his face.

"He's not a bad guy, just ignore him if he asks you anything weird."

He was a little shorter than both of them, and his hair was dyed grey. Ezekiel dapped him up, "Z! You're trying to ruin my rep already?" Ricky, his name was, adjusted his circular glasses and turned to him next to shake his hand.

"Ricky Zhao and you're Jericho, right?" He nodded, "alright, follow me. Z, you can chill in my office if you don't want to wait out front."

Ezekiel frowned and narrowed his eyes at the tattoo artist before eventually walking away. Ricky exhaled quietly and led him to a room behind yet another black curtain. Mumbling 'intense fucker.'

"Take a seat," he gestured to the short leather stool behind him. "He already told me that you were getting a daith piercing, but I want to ask you a couple of questions first, if that's cool?"

The brown-haired boy nodded, watching him pull on a pair of black latex gloves, take out a needle, and sterilize it for about a minute, putting the piercing in a different solution right after.

"How old are you?"

His voice had lost the blatantly playful edge and shifted over to a more serious tone. And, he just met the guy, but he had an odd feeling that Ezekiel didn't get to see this side of Ricky often.

"Eighteen."

The grey-haired man's eyes dipped down to the column of his throat, cognac brown irises flittering over the hickeys marking his skin, and then back up, dark brows knitted tightly together.

He shook his hair out of his face, pointing at his neck before grabbing a small cloth to cut a hole in, "he do that? If you don't mind me asking." Nimble fingers working quickly.

"No. It was... someone else."

Jericho cringed; he and Joseph... they weren't friends anymore, but they weren't in any sort of a relationship yet either. A smirk replaced Ricky's briefly suspicious expression, and then the small room was filled with the sound of his laughter.

"Complicated, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, "Ok, fair enough," and chuckled a little more before asking him to get up and lay down on one of the cushioned tables. "Alright then, what side of your head do the migraines usually start on?"

Jericho pointed to his left, and the other man came over with the cloth that he cut earlier, asked him to hold his hair out of the way, and placed the opening over his ear. He disinfected the inside of it and lifted his chin so he would have enough space to position the thin needle right in front of his daith.

"I'm not going to lie; this will hurt a little bit."

Before he even had the chance to respond, he heard a total of three popping noises; the thin needle piercing his skin, going straight through the cartilage, and then his skin again on the other end.

It did, in fact, hurt, but he didn't mind it. The shorter man cleaned up what he suspected was blood, and felt the small starter hoop being inserted into his ear. The grey-haired man adjusted it just as speedily as he removed the cloth.

"Done, good job."

The whole process took about three minutes; Ricky handed him a small plastic bag with an ear care solution when he stood up and a hand-held mirror so he could look at the piercing. Jericho fiddled with the steel hoop, wincing when he touched the sensitive skin surrounding the piercing.

"Use a cotton ball or a q-tip to apply the solution around the piercing twice a day, and it should heal in about eight to twelve weeks. Also, try to avoid sleeping on it or touching it without washing your hands first."

His hand dropped immediately. Ricky laughed.

"I'm going to go talk to Z. You can come out front whenever you're done observing my amazing handiwork. Just sit the mirror down somewhere over there."

He pointed in the general direction of the chair he was sitting on earlier and waved as he walked away when Jericho thanked him. After a few minutes, he put the mirror back down where it previously was and stepped out of the room. They were still talking at the register, so he lingered near the entrance.

When Ezekiel beckoned him over, he joined them upfront. Fingers grabbed his chin and turned his head to the side, reaching up to flick the ear's sensitive shell. Jericho flinched, glaring at the smug look on the man's face, and quickly stepped away from him.

"Cute. Does it hurt?"

He gave him a long blank stare before turning to Ricky, ignoring his stupid question.

"Thank you."

Ricky gave the pair a toothy smile and waved goodbye to them as Zeke grabbed his shoulders and directed him out of the building and into the parking lot.