IT TOOK BOTH OF THEM NEARLY DOUBLE THE AMOUNT OF TIME IT USUALLY DID TO GET TO JERICHO'S HOUSE BECAUSE THEY WERE CLIMBING INTO EACH OTHER'S SEATS AT EVERY OTHER TRAFFIC LIGHT ON THE EMPTY BACK ROAD.

The blond had one hand on the wheel now and the other rubbing on the inside of his thigh. Every time he'd try to move, nails would dig into his skin deliciously.

"Joey," he said quietly, "I told you we're never going to get home if you don't get your hands off me and focus on the road."

He glanced over at him, green eyes murky and an edge to their usual softness. Squeezing his leg with renewed aggression and grinning in that wild way he wouldn't ever get tired of seeing.

"Quit complainin'. I already told you it's either my hand stays in its rightful place, or you come over here again and sit your pretty ass on my lap for the remainder of the ride, baby. The choice is yours."

The brown-haired boy shut up and dealt with it because from the sound of Joseph's strained voice; he was worse off than he was. He tried to school his expression, but he could see right through it.

If his face weren't obvious enough, the thick tent in his sweats that he'd been readjusting for the last 30 minutes would suffice too. Jericho would've gladly taken care of it already but the quarterback wasn't convinced he wouldn't crash the car in the process.

After that, they were able to make it back to Jericho's uneventfully, save for one last traffic light, but he'd somehow managed to fend him off. The second he hopped out of the truck and shut the door, the other boy had rounded the corner.

Joseph fisted the cream collar of the jersey and shoved him against the steel. Dragging the other hand down the side of his thigh and then around to his ass to grab a handful of it.

"You been havin' fun teasin' me lately, haven't you?"

He pressed his arousal against him, asking in between a feverish exchange of lips and teeth. The brown-haired boy snapped out of his daze just long enough to shake his head 'no.' Looping unsteady arms around his neck.

In the back of his mind, he knew that they should probably move this whole ordeal inside, with the nosy neighbors and all. But right now, he was more focused on his own leaking cock and the tongue making its way into his mouth.

"No? Sayin' things you know'll drive me crazy and then leavin' me all alone to take care of what you did? There's nowhere to run this time; I know you like that, though." He growled, "You want me? Ruin you for everyone else 'til I'm the only one who can fuck you right?"

The last part was a serious question, he could hear the heat in his voice as well as the hesitation to ask it, but it was precisely what Jericho had wanted from him for months now. Something a little more up his alley but this time, it would be different.

It wasn't going to be just sex anymore because now both of them were armed with the knowledge that they were infatuated with each other to an alarming degree.

"Pleasepleasepleaseineedyou."

He whispered the needy and almost incoherent slur of a sentence into his open mouth, unable to stop the desperation from seeping into his voice. Joseph chuckled and swallowed the words with a kiss, nipping at the puffy flesh of his bottom lip and resting his forehead against his.

"Don't worry, 'Cho. You know I always take good care of you."

———————————————————————————————

He couldn't move his legs without pain shooting through his lower-body like lightning bolts. Joseph did exactly what he'd promised; fucked him until he couldn't walk and then some. The shorter boy was on his lap.

The blond's softening cock still twitching inside his abused guts. His thighs bruised and sore from riding him. Every time he inhaled he could feel him in the back of his throat too.

They didn't use protection. It was both of their faults, though, because the quarterback left his wallet with his condoms in it in the truck. Jericho was too far gone and wouldn't let him leave to get it.

So, now here he was, stomach tight with his cum and the rest seeping out uncomfortably because he wanted to be horny. His body was hypersensitive and spasming slightly, neat cornrows also a hot ass mess; Joseph was absolutely zero help.

Laying on his back with one hand behind his head and the other casually typing away on his phone like he wasn't seven-and-a-half inches deep right now. Jericho narrowed his eyes and braced a hand on the blond's abs, attempting to get off him.

He was almost half of the way there, too, when he heard a sharp inhale and felt a big hand grabbing hold of his aching hip to guide him back down. His descent was quick and embarrassingly loud (both the sound of their bodies reconnecting and his mouth.), but Joseph finally looked up at him instead of that stupid phone.

"What did I tell you about movin'?" The quarterback proceeded to put the device back on the nightstand and grab him with both hands. "Be patient. I said I'd take care of everythin', right?" Shallowly grinding in and out of his swollen rim.

Jericho whined at the feeling, his reply was clipped, "I'm not your cock warmer. And that wasn't your take when you sat there and watched me ride you for half an hour." He got what he asked for, but that didn't make him feel any less tired, and his entire body still hurt like hell.

The quarterback grinned, sat up and the new angle made it so that he could drive himself in further.

"You're still sucking me in like crazy, sure you want me to pull out?"

Hitting that place inside him again that made him see stars. The brown-haired boy slumped against him, boneless. His body was reaching its physical limits.

"W-wait!"

He had never felt so fucking full in his life; he loved it but right now, it was too much. Suppressing a full-body shiver while his eyes almost rolled into the back of his head and new tears began to form.

"Hm? And, what about the last two hours you sat there and let me slut you out?" He pressed a palm onto his lower-back and snapped his hips forward again "So, mind repeatin' that? I ain't catch it behind all your mouthin' off."

He would if he could, but a coherent sentence was a mountain he was no longer ready to climb and an impossible feat at the moment.

"N-no, ok babe, please. 'M sorry, 'm sorry."

Fortunately, he did pull out, but it wasn't until Jericho had practically begged him. He laid on his side to avoid further stimulation while the other boy cleaned both of them up. Whimpering pathetically and flinching away whenever certain delicate places were touched.

"Shh. You know I got you."

The taller boy had apparently dipped out of the room for a bit, but before his intrusive thoughts could get to work, he heard the familiar sound of water cutting on.

When the blond came back, he rolled him onto his back, picked him up, and carried him into the bathroom. Jericho started drifting off to sleep again when Joseph put him in the tub's warm water and sat down behind him.

His hands were gentle and careful while he washed him, impossibly so, and he wanted to sob; Jericho didn't know aftercare was a normal thing people did.

"Just relax. I'm here if you need me."

——————————————————————————————

The next time he fully woke up, he was clothed and warm, laid up on the quarterback's bare chest halfway under his duvet with a leg over his and an arm securely around his waist.

They were both in pajamas, he'd stolen his nightshirt, and ever so often, Joey would kiss the crown of his head or massage his sore ass. He still faintly smelt like fresh tobacco and vanilla.

"I should've asked this already, but when was the last time you were tested?" He mumbled sleepily, "I had to start regularly going when I was with my ex because he never fucking wrapped his shit up."

Joseph looked at him and let out a laugh, "August, a few days before the party embarrassingly enough. I go every six months." His grin dropped for a moment, "you know I'd never do that to you, right?"

He nodded. Jericho sighed. Everyone has secrets and wanting to know every single little thing about the person you love isn't that odd, but it's also a boundary you can't cross if they're not comfortable. So, he'd tell his piece and just get the whole fiasco over with.

"Ezekiel and I... we met each other at the lowest points in our lives, and we used each other to fill in the gaps our parents left. Just two kids who weren't loved by the people who were supposed to and sought each other out. I would piss him off, he'd mistreat me, but then he left. I never know what goes through his head. I won't be seeing him again until I'm healed enough to have a coherent conversation with him."

Talking about his abusive father was a topic reserved for a therapist, not his partner. This wasn't a trauma dump, so he kept it as vague as he possibly could. He felt around in his left ear for a clasp on the piercing; migraine be damned.

He'd rip the shit out if he had to. Ezekiel had already given him enough in trauma to last a lifetime anyway, but Joseph grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers.

"I understand, baby. Just let it heal up first, and I'll get you a new one when the time comes."

He kissed the palm of his hand and sat up on his other arm, "When I look in the mirror, I still see parts of him, but I don't want that or him, Joey." leaned in and left a kiss on his freckled cheek. "I love you, and you're important to me." A soft one on his bruised nose, "and I'm sorry for making you wait so long. I'll try to be better at showing it." And then his lips.

He was quiet for a moment.

"I'm going to start looking for a therapist, preferably a black one. I honest to God don't have the strength to carry all this baggage around anymore. I want to get better, for myself, so even after all that shit I just said, if you'll still have me—"

Joseph cut him off with another kiss and spoke lowly, "I love you, too." the words reverberating deep in his chest.

"Ok." He couldn't stop the smile that was forming on his face, continuing, "You don't have to tell me anything that you're not comfortable with sharing. Just promise me that you'll try to stay out of trouble. I don't want to see you hurting anymore, ok?"

"Promise."

—————————————————————————————

The silence was comfortable during the hour that passed until Jericho spoke again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anythin'."

"How long have you liked me?"

The blond scoffed, suddenly hooking an arm around his waist and getting up to climb over him on the mattress, "I believe the correct term here is love, 'Cho, and I knew you were gonna be mine a year after we met." answering with a shameless grin and dipping down to brush their lips together, he loved his kisses "didn't realize it until recently, but you feel like home."

Home. Joseph brought a big hand up to the right side of his face, softly rubbing a thumb under his cheekbone and staring at him for a while, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

"I..." he started quietly "My family is an odd bunch. Ma, pop, me, my... brother. We've all got on our issues, but he's a different kinda crazy."

He shifted backward to lie down beside him again, keeping close so they'd still be touching.

"You have a brother?"

The quarterback hummed.

"Hunter. Used to work the land with dad and I."

He glanced over at him, didn't like the sound of that past-tense.

"He doesn't work on the farm anymore?"

The blond shook his head and gave him a half-smile.

"Nah. He's a gunrunner."

Jericho sat up despite the pain, wincing nonetheless, and looked at him, eyes widened. The mood of the conversation had switched up within seconds.

"Joey... don't play with me."

He met his confused stare with a calm expression. Joseph wouldn't lie to him about something this serious. There was no way what he just said had any truth to it, though. Right?

"Jericho, I'm not playin'. I'm tellin' you this because I trust you and all I want you is for you to feel safe when you're with me. Do you?"

The brown-haired boy pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Shit, of course, I do, but—"

The quarterback reached for his face, turning his chin toward him so he was looking at him again.

"Then I need you to listen to me very carefully."