AFTER HE USHERED JERICHO INTO THE PASSENGER SEAT OF HIS CAR, THEY WERE ON THEIR WAY BACK FROM THE TATTOO SHOP AND TO HIS HOUSE.

There was a rap song playing softly in the background, and the heat billowing through the vents was on the lowest setting, but other than that, it was silent. Ezekiel glanced to the right, dark eyes searching the other's face for a moment as he stared outside the window.

Brows furrowed and chewing on his noticeably swollen bottom lip, reaching up ever so often to fiddle with his piercing and probably overthinking about the slightly discolored cheerio that ended up in his cereal bowl this morning.

Jericho's always been an over-thinker, always worried about this or that. It could get annoying, mostly when his intuition was right. The second thing he still is? A needy little thing who requires constant reassurance and praise. It wasn't his fault, though, Ezekiel certainly didn't mind.

Now, his version of wanting attention was not to be mixed up with wanting to be the center of attention. It was more intimate than that. He craved just one person showering him with unconditional love and affection.

Ezekiel was more than willing to fill that role, but it seemed like one Joseph Turner had, unfortunately, taken the spot before he could. That drove him mad; frankly, he was bored out of his mind until he moved here. Kylie Parker was the first person who aroused his interest.

For him, making friends was like breathing, thanks to his personality. The most natural thing in the world to do but it can get annoying pretty fast. He had difficulty trusting other people's intentions, so he never allowed anyone close enough to screw him over.

The downside of keeping everyone at arms distance? There was no one to play with, no fun to be had. But there were always exceptions. Kylie and Jericho, of course, being two of the few. Now, he liked Kylie a lot, but his feelings for her never went beyond that. Jericho though? Bit of a problem.

He's a control freak. Years ago, when he started to feel things for him, emotions that were innocent enough but also ones that he had no business having, made him nervous. He'd never liked another guy before and his dad and priest always talked about how disgusting and unnatural it was.

It scared the living hell out of him; he hated the uncertainty and fear. So, he tried to get rid of him. He was convinced that his feelings would disappear along the way too. But, the methods he used were... ineffective at best.

Ezekiel trying to "push" him away mostly included emotional and, sometimes, physical abuse if he pissed him off. Mostly things his own parents said or did to him when he acted out because that's all he knew. He despised them for doing it to him, so he figured the same actions and words would work on Jericho.

But, because of his dad, he was a delicate case. The whole ordeal only served to drive them closer together and further solidify whatever the hell he was feeling, love, or otherwise.
It was a destructive, co-dependent relationship that did absolutely nothing besides hurt them in the end.

At the time, Ezekiel had no clue that it was a trauma response; for them both, he just thought they were fucked up in the head. Now, it was a lot easier to see that it was the former because it made sense considering how they were raised.

Ezekiel's parents were overbearing, and being in high positions of power in the navy only inflated their egos. They wouldn't even let him leave the house half the time, so he didn't have a lot of freedom growing up, it never got any better. The resentment and the hatred festered and ended up growing with him too.

After he moved out, he cut all ties with them, and the only thing remaining now is the guilt money they wire him every month. Jericho had it even worse. His dad, Ismail, was a shit-bag who only paid him any mind when he was hitting or yelling at him.

Ezekiel knew this was happening, had seen and heard it with his own two eyes and ears. His parents did the same, he wasn't allowed to hang out at friend's houses unless he snuck out to Jericho's, so he never realized that it wasn't normal.

But, as Jericho said, he didn't even try to listen when he talked about how he felt. Too busy trying to sort through his own emotions that he always talked but never made any time to listen.

He also knew how much of a saving grace it was to have someone in your corner. Ezekiel had Jericho, as messed up as they were, but Jericho didn't have anyone. His dad abused him at home, and he was abused by his best friend whenever they hung out after school.

Did such a good job at ignoring the past for the last four years and pretending nothing happened. Because everything didn't come back to bite him in the ass until Jericho popped up again, one of the few things Zeke wasn't lying about was that he moved here without knowing the other was here too.

If he'd known, he wouldn't have come at all. Ever since he met him again, the guilt had been eating at his conscious every single day. He wanted to apologize before he did something stupid. But, he was afraid of seeing him again after not being able to say goodbye.

It wasn't out of love either, he didn't think that was possible. He'd been with so many girls the past four years that it just didn't make sense. That was no excuse, but he couldn't break the façade. He tried already. That was the reason he came over to his house for dinner a few weeks ago.

As usual, he fucked up, said the wrong shit, and when the accusations, and the ridicule, and the tears came, he was done for. The older man had it coming, though; it was all true too but, fuck if it didn't piss him off.

He doesn't want to hurt him, he never did. A voice pulled him out of the black hole that was his thought process.

"Why are you acting so weird?"

That was the burning question he was contemplating this whole time? He loosened his grip on the wheel as well and took a deep breath. Today he would try to fix this shit. He cocked an eyebrow.

He preferred the cheerio scenario. They were about to pull into his neighborhood when he responded with a question of his own.

"Weird, how?"

He was going to drag this one out until they got to his house. Jericho folded his arms across his chest and spoke a little louder, "You always have some smart-ass shit to say, but you haven't spoken to me this entire car ride, weird?"

He was getting irritated, cute. The raven-haired man focused back onto the road, took a left, and deflected again. He responded, shrugging, "Been doing a lot of thinking." Making the last turn into his cul-de-sac, and then after a little while, pulled up into the driveway.

There was a saying, 'People often return to what's familiar, not what's good for them.' If they were already ticking time bombs apart, together they were a walking nuclear disaster. But Jericho was still his, he'd staked his claim a long while ago.

Joseph wasn't any good for him, Ezekiel still hates the guy and doesn't trust him for two reasons:

1. He's probably in love with Jericho.

2. He ruined Kylie Parker's life.

People that linger around Joseph Tucker for too long get fucked over and disappear. Kylie was living proof of that. The brown-haired boy had already been through the wringer several times. Ezekiel's not going to aid in it or let that happen right in front of his face again.

"Thinking about what?"

He put the car in park, turned off the engine, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Jericho matched his actions. Ezekiel ran a hand through his hair and looked directly at him. Taking all things into consideration this conversation was going to be difficult to have.

"You."

His expression went from one of confusion to annoyance quickly, anger, when he rolled his eyes and turned to open the door only to find out that it was still locked.

"Zeke, I'm not playing your mind games. Unlock the door."

He leaned back, "make some time then because you're not leaving until you hear what I have to say."

His eyes narrowed; Ezekiel could feel the venom in the words that were about to come out of his mouth. Hardening his resolve because having a conversation, not a yelling match, was the only way this was going to work.

"Now you wanna talk? All the fucking times I needed you to listen and you weren't there? We tried this last time, but you didn't want to listen then either, look at how that turned out. Your fingers around my throat, because that's the only way we know how to communicate. So put your hands on me or let me the fuck out of this car."

The raven-haired man shook his head, "And that's the issue. Jericho, I don't want to hurt you anymore." He let out a breath, "And, I need you to believe me when I say that, but you have to help me out a little here."

"Help you?"

If it wasn't already hard to tell, Ezekiel hated talking about things like his feelings. Not because he thought they made him weak, but he never gets the words out correctly. He was afraid of acknowledging them, too, because then they become real.

Zeke continued, "Not trying to purposely anger me would be a start and..." but trailed off toward the end. He screwed that up. There was no way he was going to say it out loud, no fucking way. He refused to sound jealous.

What? 'Stop acting like I wasn't your best friend first.' Jericho probably saw it written all over his face, though, because it was like a switch was flipped.

He cocked his head and after a few silent seconds he climbed out of his seat like a feline and over to the driver's side. Ezekiel felt heat coil in the pit of his stomach when he ran a hand all the way up to his thigh, stopping close to his hip to support his weight and leaning in close to his face.

"And what?"

The raven-haired man flexed his fingers and maintained the relaxed expression on his face, "Why do you want to get a reaction out of me so bad?" Trying desperately to stop his eyes from dropping down to his lips, "I'm just going to have to deal with this until you get it out of your system, won't I?"

Jericho laughed low and soft and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. He folded. Following the action like he'd die if he didn't look "yeah," moving his hand, faster than he could react, "because it's your own fault that you'll never be better than him." He whispered, scratching his nails down the inside of his thigh.

He tried to pull the hand off of him so he could finish speaking. But, a broad smile and then the sound of something unlocking interrupted him. The brown-haired boy grabbed his bag, opened the passenger door, and hopped out of the car in seconds.

He gave up. Ezekiel started the car and closed his eyes. Losing his cool for a second was all the time Jericho needed to see right through him. All the time he needed to show him how much power he had over him too.

He turned the music up, put his car in reverse, and drove off after Jericho shut the door to his house. Zeke was half-hard the entire way home.