JOSEPH'S HANDS SNAKED UNDER HIS THIGHS, LIFTING HIM UP, AND LET JERICHO'S LEGS WRAP AROUND HIS WAIST TO PULL THEIR BODIES CLOSER.

He pressed his back flat against the wall, sucking softly on his tongue and dragging a hand up his body. Leaving no part of Jericho's mouth unexplored and tasting him like it was something he wanted to save for later.

They'd been at it for a while now; several times throughout the duration of the party. Scouring the enormous house for dark hallways or empty rooms while trying to keep their wandering hands off each other.

They were failing miserably. It was the alcohol dulling his senses and the green inferno in Joseph's eyes, making him dizzy and compliant. Usually, he would've stayed the hell away, but tonight it was different.

Whenever they so much as made eye contact, he could tell that Joseph wanted absolutely nothing else but to put his hands on him. He was lovesick and drunk enough to give the other whatever the hell he demanded.

He carded his fingers through short golden locks as the other boy nipped his jaw and down the side of his neck torturously slow. Leaving violet constellations on the skin—the sounds exiting Jericho's throat low and needy.

"Mm? You want me?"

The blond squeezed his throat and growled in between kisses.

"How bad?"

Another incoherent noise escaped him. His heart hammered in his chest, and he could feel Joseph's arousal swelling against the underside of his thigh when he yanked his head back and kissed him, panting a mantra of 'need you's' into his mouth.

"Jericho..."

"..."

"Jericho. Jericho!?"

Jericho shot up out of bed, waking up to his mom's softly accented voice yelling at him to get his ass downstairs, it was the first day of school and it just had to begin with a dream about Joseph. Except, it wasn't entirely a dream, more like an over-exaggeration of a memory, and he needed to get a shower immediately.

He groaned as he walked toward the bathroom, peach-colored towel over his shoulder. The fluorescent white light flickered on, and he made sure the cold water was cranked up before stripping and getting in.

Standing under the icy spray, he made sure that his hair didn't get too wet, and quickly soaped up, rinsed off, and got out before he started to lose feeling in his toes.

He brushed his chattering teeth and washed his face almost at the same time. Using water, his detangler brush and with the help of God and Shea butter, he was able to pull it up into a big ponytail.

Locking what Joseph said about wearing it out more often in the back of his mind because unless he would help maintain it throughout the day, (he probably would) he'd just have to deal. Next, he rushed to his room, dried off, and got dressed.

Moisturizing his face and body, jamming his legs into a pair of socks and cargo pants, yanking on a black turtleneck, and pulling on a cable-knit pullover, he was downstairs in probably record time. Grabbing his khaki backpack, he slipped on his Black and white 1's, and said bye to his mom before she could chastise him some more.

Breakfast is for losers, which usually includes him, but he was running late today, so yeah, the statement still stands. He had to catch the school bus because he only works during the summer and he didn't have enough saved for a car yet.

So, he jogged down the few blocks it took to get to the stop and waited. Being the only one there had its ups and downs, like not knowing if he missed it or not because nobody else waited with him.

It was mostly saving himself the embarrassment on the rare occasion that he was late and had to sprint down the road. He was earlier than he initially thought because the bus didn't come until three minutes later.

He checked his phone for any messages on the way to school. Reading and replying in the occasional group chat, and scrolling through TikTok and Instagram until they pulled up to the school 10 minutes later.

Alamance county high-school was huge, but only because it was the first to be completely remodeled after the old one burned to the ground in some freak accident 11 years ago.

The building was three stories tall and made almost entirely out of brick and limestone, the American and North Carolina flags waved obnoxiously in the warm breeze, and the people were as fake as the fucking grass.

Students and teachers alike piled into the school via the front door, and Jericho followed the massive mob inside. The brown-haired boy pulled his schedule out of his jacket pocket, albeit with some difficulty, and unfolded it to see where his first class was; AP physics.

It was his senior year, and he still didn't know his way around yet. After asking a few staff members that were in charge of helping, he ended up in front of a mahogany door.

He opened it only to find that it was mostly empty aside from the teacher and one other student; everyone was still loitering around in the halls talking to their friends.

His own promised to meet up during lunch because they all liked to get to class early, good first impressions and all that. The professor was a man; olive-skinned, probably mid 30's, and had kind brown eyes underneath a pair of turtle shell Ray-Bans.

He said a polite good morning, smiled, and was told him for the first time that he could sit wherever he so pleased. Already knowing that this was going to be his favorite class, Jericho chose a seat near the front, where he was never able to sit because of his last name, and put his things down.

There were a few posters on the walls of Albert Einstein or Newton's laws, but other than that, they were bare, so the teacher was probably new.

As he people watched under the guise of scrolling through his phone, other students filed into the large classroom. Most waved or stopped by to talk. Still deciding to avoid the first and second row like the plague and sitting in the back or near the windows.

He was applying his chapstick when the last student walked in as the bell rang and sat down right next to him, even though there were several other seats available behind him. He glanced to his right; the person pulled a lock of lavender hair behind their pierced ears, russet-brown skin matching their light eyes.

"You looked kinda lonely, dude."

When they spoke, it caught him off guard, their smooth voice not at all matching their bubbly appearance, but as a wise black man once said, you can't judge a book by its binding. He quickly recovered when they asked for his name.

"Jericho Tucker." He dapped them up, shaking his head and laughing a bit when they added, "I know, I was just playing nigga. All the astrology girls stay calling you Turner's twin flame or some shit. Everybody knows you!" and responded with their own, Abel Montgomery.

Class started slowly. The teacher introduced himself as Mr. Whitaker, first name Rion, spelled R-I-O-N and professed his undying love for physics, Einstein, and Newton's philosophies for almost the entire hour and a half.

It was almost poetic, he would've been a great English teacher. In the last 15 minutes, he had everyone write their name down on a sticky note and one reason why they took his class.

They couldn't, however, have an excuse like 'my parents forced me to.' Or 'it'll get me college credit.' So, unless you liked the class, you were shit out of luck.

After a few moments, the notes were collected, and before someone could remind Mr. Whitaker about their summer project, the bell rang and he dipped. The next two classes went on without any complications.

Abel and a few other people he knew were even in his study block. When it was finally time for lunch, he walked into the bustling cafeteria, and he felt like he was in high-school musical.

The football players were all in one area, the honor society members had their section, and the D&D club kids were already set up and playing. Making sure to avoid the jock table because their sovereign leader would be front and center, and he really did not want to see him right now.

He nodded at a few people he knew while looking for his friend, eventually spotting her talking animatedly, and he sighed in relief. Making his way over and almost at his destination when a large hand clapped down onto his shoulder, jostled it, and then wrapped an arm around him. Jericho just knew he had to have been cursed.

There was something he did in a past life; took someone's firstborn, murdered a king, ate the forbidden fruit, or whatever it was that caused lousy luck to ride on his coattails.

"Good afternoon."

Joseph whispered into his ear with a shit-eating grin, tongue poking out between his perfectly straight teeth. He never seemed to leave the house without that ridiculous wife beater tank on either.

Could see it under the tight ass white shirt he had on and his favorite herringbone gold chain on his neck swung like a pendulum.

He grunted a much less enthusiastic "afternoon." back and let himself be redirected to a quieter part of the cafeteria. The taller boy finally released him and leant against the limestone. Still smiling sweetly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. He knew exactly what this was going to be about.