Chapter 18

SAME DAY, SAME TIME

Micah jumped out of his sleep, feeling anxiety start to course through his body upon hearing the sounds of knocking.

His eyes searched his dark room, with his brain trying to catch up from just waking.

Jeremiah was still asleep, slightly snoring with his arms wrapped around Micah.

However, his eyes shot open upon the next set of knocks. “Who the fuck is et?” Jeremiah groaned, extremely irritated, for he hated being woken from his sleep.

“Ion know, Jeremiah,” Micah groggily sat up, standing to his feet with Jeremiah behind him.

Jeremiah closed Micah’s door behind them, then the two froze upon hearing the voices behind the door.

“Micah!” they heard the first voice.

Sabrina… Jeremiah thought.

It was Micah’s parents. “Open up, we know it’s late, sorry. We just arrived in town.” Michael Sr added on.

They would call, but Micah blocked them when he got his phone back

He wanted to avoid them at all costs, although he knew it was only temporary.

“Micah,” his mother called out again, with another knock. “Hurry. I don’t want to wake all of your neighbors,” she continued.

Micah only stayed standing in the same position. His feet refused to detach from the wooden floors below him. He didn’t want to walk towards that door.

His mind wrestled with what to do.

He felt a panic attack coming on.

Jeremiah noticed his panic, going up behind him, grabbing his arm, leaning in close to his ear. “You want me ta tellem you ain’t hur?” he whispered the question in his ear.

Micah didn’t say anything; he just nodded.

Jeremiah nodded too, then moved past him to the door, while Micah went back to his room.

Walking towards the door, Jeremiah hesitantly opened it. He put a shirt on to cover his and Micah’s love marks, but he knew a few peeked from his neck.

He opened the door, eyeing Micah’s parents, swallowing hard. “Hello, Mr & Mrs Parks. Um, Micah ain’t hur,” he told them, but Sabrina rolled her eyes and pushed past Jeremiah. “W-Wait, what are you doin’? I jus’ said–”

“Hey, son,” Sabrina spoke, eyeing Micah in his doorway.

Micah only stared.

Michael Sr looked between the two.

Micah was now covered, with one of his hoodies on, so they couldn’t really see how much Jeremiah marked him. “Why y’all hur?” he asked, shutting his door behind him and stepping out.

Jeremiah felt as if he was intruding, so he simply went to his room, but he kept his TV low, so he could still overhear.

After he left, Michael Sr and Sabrina fully welcomed themselves into the home. “Why haven’t you come home?” Micah’s father asked, and Micah just scoffed.

“Can y’all leave?” Micah asked, already feeling the panic attack coming.

His fists were balled up at his sides, his heartbeat increased, as well as his breathing.

“Son, we haven’t seen you in over a month,” Sabrina spoke, not leaving—in fact, the two sat down on the couch, making Micah almost choke, for how much he and Jeremiah defiled it.

He turned his head away from them, “Youn think I know et?” he asked. “Get out, please,” he turned back to them, and they looked at him with betrayed expressions.

“Are you really doing this to us, son?” Sabrina asked him.

Micah noticed how his father hadn’t said a word. He probably wasn’t going to.

He knew it was his father’s pride. His refusal to see his wrongdoings and simply love him through one of the worst times of his life.

It continued to break Micah’s heart, but one lesson he learned from his father was never to appear weak in front of your adversary, and that’s what Micah saw his parents as at the moment. He taught him to stand up strong, be a man, crying is for bitches.

So, he wouldn’t break down, he wouldn’t cry.

Micah said nothing. He felt his whole body writhing in the pain of feeling as if his whole existence was disregarded by his parents, even now.

Even now, after he almost took his life, they are selfish, only concerned with feeling guilty, and not repairing the years of damage they did to their son.

Micah started chewing on his bottom lip to avoid speaking or crying. He just left his dorm, not saying a word.

He looked back at Jeremiah’s door, wanting to go and jump into his arms to cry, knowing he was safe in his arms to be any version of himself.

“Micah!” Sabrina called out after him. She stood up, going after him, but then she was stopped by Michael Sr.

“Let him go,” he told her. “We’ve done everything, and this is what we get. Let him go,” Michael Sr spoke in a stern voice, making Sabrina even question him a bit.

She truly hated seeing Micah in that bed that day, but she would always stand by her husband.

Sabrina nodded, “Let’s go home, honey.” She kissed his cheek, grabbed his arm, then led them out of the dorm.

Behind the door of his room, Jeremiah stood with silent tears streaming down his face. “Hmm,” he hummed, unsure of why exactly he was crying.

He just overheard Michael Sr and Sabrina’s words, and… they made him so saddened that he cried.

Not for himself, for Micah.

He cried the tears Micah couldn’t.

He cried because he hated the pain he knew Micah would continue to go through because of them, and there was nothing he could do about it except try to make sure he knew he was loved elsewhere.

Once he heard the door slam shut, he exited his room, going to Micah’s, seeing he wasn’t there.

Jeremiah looked around, trying to find him.

It was the middle of the night, so he knew that he wasn’t far, but where did he go?

Jeremiah went back into his room, grabbed his phone, and called him.

Meanwhile, Micah was on his way to Meilie’s dorm—without his phone.

He made it there, knocking on the door. “Mei,” he called out. “Mei Mei,” he said, cuffing his hands, calling out her nickname.

Micah just heard silence, feeling irritated, but it was in the middle of the night.

Just as he was about to turn around, he heard the door opening, and Junie, Meilie’s friend, roommate, and Micah’s secret admirer.

“Hey, Micah,” she smiled, looking him in the eyes. “Why you hur in the early AM?” she asked, and Micah couldn’t help but notice how few clothes she wore… just some small boy shorts and a crop top… with no bra.

Micah just shrugged, pushing his way inside. “I need my bitch,” he nodded.

“Who’s a bitch?” Meilie popped from her room.

Micah and Junie both quickly looked towards Meilie, who now had a smile on her face. “Ariana what are you doing hereee?” she laughed. “It’s fuckin’ 3 AM, Micah—” she paused, noticing his sad face. “Wuss wrong?”

Micah shook his head.

Meilie nodded, “Aight, let’s go ta my room,” she grabbed Micah’s hand. “Go shower, I know you prolly was fuckin’ et nigga,” she pulled him down to whisper in his ear.

“Huuuuhhh?” Micah chuckled a bit, feeling a bit better. “I do no such thing,” he whispered, mocking a fake Jamaican accent.

“Boy, go,” Meilie playfully pushed him towards her room door. She then turned to Junie, “As yo fren, don’t,” she shook her head.

Junie just shrugged. “He fine as hell, Mei… n he single now…”

Meilie just sighed, “Imma say it one more time, as your frens, as Micah’s bestie, he’s still a nigga,” Meilie shrugged, nodding. “Frens is good.”

Junie just rolled her eyes and went to her bedroom.

“Bye, see you inna mornin’!” Meilie called out, then went to her room.

After Micah showered, he changed into some clothes he had left over there once he spent the night, then he hopped into her bed.

There was a moment of silence before she broke it, “So, wussup witchu?” she asked. “Be real…”

“Okay, Mei—damn,” he chuckled with a scoff. He then let out a deep sigh. “I jus’ saw my parents, n…” he stopped, shaking his head. “They ain’t changed at all,” he looked towards her.

He sighed again, and he was trying hard to fight back his emotions.

“You don’t have ta be so stoic wit me, Micah—I love you. All of you—however you come—genuinely,” Meilie grabbed his hand.

The tears suddenly came, “Et shit still hurt Mei.”

“N iss neva gon’ stop—I’m jus’ bein’ hones’—they yo parents, n it sucks, but you gotta realize that, it’s a flaw on them, and truly start learnin’ ta love and get ta know who you are,” she told him.

“I know…”

“So, make that therapy appointment, nigga!” Meilie chuckled, and Micah smiled, wrapping an arm around her, kissing the side of her head.

“I luh you too, Mei,” Micah told her.

“I know…” She gave him a gentle smile.

“Let’s just have a luh baby,” Micah joked.

“You got one already,” she spat back, making Micah smack his lips.

He waved her off as he got underneath her covers. “Whateva,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

“How the fuck you gon’–Imma letchu live. You hadda bad night,” Meilie patted his shoulder, then got under the covers herself, until she jumped at the sound of her phone ringing.

She ignored it, but it rang again… and again.

“Mei, answa yo damn phone,” Micah popped up, hearing Meilie groan.

“Jus’ turn it off,” she spoke sluggishly.

Micah looked at her phone, seeing it was Jeremiah who was calling her. “Oh, shit,” he suddenly realized he had left his phone.

“Who is it?” Meilie popped up. She looked at her phone. “Why et nigga callin’ me?” she asked. “I mean… I am his biggest fan,” she batted her eyes.

Micah just stared at her. “Sorry, nigga, damn. Don’t nobody want that nigga, but you,” she scoffed. “Now answa the phone,” she told him.

Micah hesitated, but Meilie answered it for him, putting it on speaker.

“Meilie?” Jeremiah asked. His voice was full of worry.

Meilie just looked at Micah, making the gesture of locking her lips as she lay back down.

Micah just sighed. “Um, iss me, Miah,” Micah sighed. “I’m at Mei’s dorm. I left my phone. Ian even realize it.”

“Oh, okay, okay… You okay? Lemme not ask et… ummm, they gone, so…” Jeremiah paused.

“What?”

“Bring yo ass back. You kno’ I can’t sleep witout you, baby,” Jeremiah told him, and he looked over to Meilie, who just cooed in silence as his face heated up.

Micah stayed silent for a moment. “Micah?” Jeremiah repeated.

“I’m hur,” he said softly.

“Come hur,” Jeremiah told him.

Micah looked over to Meilie, who just shooed him.

Micah flicked her off as he got out of her bed.

“Okay, I’m comin’,” he told him.

“Aight… n by, Mei. Imma send you tickets ta my next show,” Jeremiah laughed through the phone.

Meilie just jumped up, grabbing her phone. “I LOVE you Woody Kent!” she screamed, making Micah roll his eyes.

He then grabbed it back. “I’m on my way, bye,” he hurried to hang it up.

“You so lame—don’t nobody want et nigga, but you,” Meilie scoffed, and Micah just stared at him. “Okay… maybe a lotta hoes want him—but Ian one!” She held up one finger.

Micah couldn’t help it but to just laugh. “Alotta bitches do want, n I’a smack a bitch that try.”

“You wouldn’t,” Meilie called his bluff.

“You right.” Micah laughed as he slipped on his slides. “I’d be mad as fuck, prolly call a bitch a whore,” he chuckled.

“You’re stupid,” Meilie told him, pushing him through her door.

“Aight, I’m goin’,” Micah complained as he opened her front door. “Bye, my Mei Mei,” he chuckled, opening his arms.

Meilie hugged Micah, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. “Bye, my Mikey Wikey,” she spoke in a baby voice.

“Ew,” Micah laughed, and so did Meilie as he left her door, hearing her door slam behind him.

Micah sighed as he headed back towards his dormitory, entering the elevator, pressing the button for the third floor.

Once he heard the ding, he prepared to take a step as the elevator doors opened, looking down at the ground.

He took a step forward, feeling his body come into contact with something. “The fuck?” he blurted, looking up to see Jeremiah standing there.

“You needa watch whur you goin’, fa you get kidnapped,” Jeremiah told him with a straight face.

Micah chuckled, playfully pushing Jeremiah out of his way, “Move—fuck you was goin’ anyway, nigga?” he asked, walking backwards, looking into Jeremiah’s eyes with a scowl.

“Ta come getcho ass. You was takin’ way too mufckin’ long—lolly gaggin’ ass nigga,” Jeremiah spat back.

“You rey be a gaggin‘ ass nigga, soon as we hit the door,” Micah chuckled, licking over his lips.

Jeremiah laughed, then giggled as they approached the door.

Once they got inside, they went to Jeremiah’s room.

The two started stripping their clothes as they climbed into his bed.

Jeremiah opened his arms wide, and Micah just looked at him for a moment. “Nope,” he told him, and Jeremiah just smacked his lips, pulling Micah into him.

“Damn, you so aggressive,” Micah chuckled as he wrapped his arms around Jeremiah’s shoulders. He took a deep sigh. “…Fa some reason, I feel emotional…”

“Cuz of earlier?” Jeremiah asked, and Micah nodded into Jeremiah’s neck.

“Shit jus’ still hurt my feelins, Jeremiah,” Micah told him.

Jeremiah sighed as he started to rub Micah’s back. “I know…” he said low. “But you gotta rememba that blood ain’t everythang… You gotta be betta fa yo kids.”

Micah smiled, pulling back to look at Jeremiah. “Kids?” he raised a brow.

Jeremiah nodded. “Imma put a few in you,” he told him in a serious tone.

Micah just laughed. “Wuss funny?” Jeremiah asked.

“Nothin’, baby daddy,” Micah giggled. “I can’t wait ta have yo babies.” He smiled, and then the room became filled with their laughter.

They only became quiet when Micah grabbed Jeremiah’s face, pulling him into a nice peck, keeping a grip on his chin while he sucked on his lips. “You always make me feel betta,” he whispered on them, pecking him again.

“Es what I’m supposed ta do,” Jeremiah smiled.

“Quickie fa we go ta bed?” Micah asked. “To make me feel betta?”

Jeremiah shook his head no. “We gotta practice toma… iss already in the middle of the mornin’,” he pecked Micah’s lips, but Micah just pouted.

“Daddy,” Micah said in a whiny voice.

“You tryna manipulate me,” Jeremiah said, smacking his lips.

Micah immediately went back to his normal voice and face. “Why it ain’t work?” he scoffed, snuggling back into Jeremiah’s chest. “Sing ta me or sum, nigga,” he commanded him.

Jeremiah just giggled. “Okay…” he paused. “I neva sung fa real, fa real in front of somebody, so…” he paused again, thinking of a song. “You might not know es one, but… iss the first thing that popped in my head,” He told Micah, squeezing him a bit closer to his body.

He then started to softly hum the melody of the song as he ran his hands down the back of Micah’s braids. He mostly loved the way they felt on his hand, but Micah loved being petted.

“Craving your body all through the night. Feels like I’m going through withdrawals. I wanna hold you.” Jeremiah sang, his voice slightly deep, with a little rasp to it.

“I know it,” Micah told him, making Jeremiah smile.

“And I want you inside of these arms,” Jeremiah continued to sing. “I’m dying to taste you, I can’t deny.

Can’t get it out of my mind.

Please let me hold you

‘Cause I need your lovin’ tonight,” Jeremiah sang, feeling Micah cling onto him even harder.

“Whenever I’m near you

My love just comes down. Whenever I see you,

I just want you around

‘Cause I want to feel that ass,” Jeremiah chuckled, changing the original lyrics of the song as he slapped and gripped Micah’s ass.

Micah just laughed, squirming a bit from the slap. “You goofy.”

Jeremiah chuckled at his words before he started singing again, “All through the day and the night. Oh, baby…

Whenever I’m near you

It feels like bedtime,” he finished, and Micah let out a deep sigh.

“Why you stop, sing me ta sleep,” Micah demanded, and Jeremiah just chuckled, adhering to his demands… as he always did.

He continued to sing until he felt Micah’s body slowly relax in his arms, and he heard his snores.

His own eyes grew heavy, and then he eventually fell asleep too.

•••

the next morning

Jeremiah woke up to Micah already being gone.

He had to check in with a few of his professors before practice. Micah had missed about five weeks of school.

Once Jeremiah showered, he exited his room, seeing that Micah had left him a plate of breakfast and a glass of orange juice.

Jeremiah smiled, sitting down, grabbing his phone, and looking through it as he started eating.

My Baby

> u get yo food?

Yes, thank you baby. <
You treat a nigga so good <

> you welcome 😂😂
> Remember practice is at 12
> i love you baby daddy

😂😂😂 i love you too, baby mama <

Micah just smiled down at his phone, looking up at his art teacher. “I’m glad to have you back, Micah. Your work has been missed,” he told him, making Micah smile.

He felt a surge of happiness flow through his body from his teacher’s kind words.

Micah didn’t realize how simple the phrase of his work being missed meant to him.

“I missed makin’ it, sir,” Micah smiled, feeling a hand on his shoulder.

He turned around, seeing Junie. “Wussup, June Bug,” he greeted her, seeing all the other students pour into the class.

“Hey, Micah–I see you left in the middle of the night, last night,” she smirked.

“Oh, we have an official art major couple?” their professor chuckled, clapping his hands.

Both Junie and Micah whipped their heads towards him. “No, I–” Micah stuttered.

“Micah has a whole girlfriend,” Junie spoke up.

“Ex,” Micah clarified, looking between his teacher and Junie.

“Hey,” their art teacher raised his hands in defense. “Well… I’m sayin’ I ship you two,” he told them, making Junie and Micah laugh as he walked away, back towards his desk.

“Et nigga’s wilin’,” Micah shook his head.

Junie shrugged. “I ship us, too,” she giggled.

Micah just sighed. “You shouldn’t. I come witta lot of baggage.”

“What kinda bag? A birkin?” Junie joked, making Micah laugh.

“You goofy as fuck,” Micah laughed. “Aye, hit my IG. I wanna talk about doin’ a collab show,” he told her.

Junie nodded. “Okay, bet. I’ll hit you up.”

“Aight. I’m headin’ ta the main buildin’. See you later, Junie. Tell Mei I sed hi,” Micah spoke.

Junie nodded, waving to Micah as he left.

On the other side of the school, Jeremiah was seen doing an early morning jog around the perimeter of the building.

He had his headphones on. His sight was only set on the path in front of him as the music he listened to flowed through his ears, throughout his body, making him feel as if he was floating.

Jeremiah loved music. He felt like a dog whose tail was wagging in excitement; a smile couldn’t help but start to form across his face–but then his anxiety spiked when he bumped into someone. “Oh, shit,” he cursed, almost falling back. “Sorry, bro,” he spoke, looking up, instantly being paralyzed, seeing his old foster father.

His breathing picked up quickly. “Jeremiah,” he called out to him. “I had ta come see you. I wanna apologize for the other day. I didn’t mean to cause all of that commotion, I just missed my son.” He gave an eerie smile.

Jeremiah only continued to stare at him, feeling as if he had sleep paralysis, and his foster father was the demon he was hallucinating.

However, he wasn’t hallucinating. He wished it were as easy as just waking up from the paralysis, but his demon was real.

He haunted him as a child, and now, he’s back.

“I see you’ve been doin’ real well fa yourself. I really raised you right,” he put a hand on his shoulder, and Jermeiah jumped, almost letting out a scream, but his voice cracked.

He was truly frightened by him.

Every memory of his childhood came flooding back into his mind; he grabbed his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Jeremiah,” he bent down to console him. “You’re jus’ havin’ anotha episode. I know how ta deal with that.”

“Leave me alone, please,” Jeremiah said in barely a whisper. “Please.”

“I can’t do et, son.” he shook his head. “I need some money,” he told Jeremiah.

“What?” Jeremiah scoffed.

“You hurd me, nigga. I sed I need some money, n I know wit alles fame you got goin’ on, you got some,” he smiled at Jeremiah as he spoke, looking around him to appear as if they were having a friendly conversation. “Look, Jeremiah. I’m inna situation, whur I owe some niggas money,” he told him. “I need it, son,” he told him.

Jeremiah just stayed silent for a moment. He took deep breaths to stop himself from shaking.

He closed his eyes, thinking of things to calm himself, and he landed on his father’s words. “Lastly, you tell me if you see et nigga again. Ian gon’ kill him; we not gon’ kill him. […]We gon’ find a way ta get him gon’ fa good, that doesn’t involve us bein’ any more time away from each otha’, coo’?” Jeremiah recalled his sentiments.

However, the one thing he didn’t adhere to was calling Jeremy.

Jeremiah felt it was best not to involve him. “H-How m-much you need?” he stuttered over his words. His eyes just darted from the man’s face to everything else around him, so he could constantly avoid eye contact.

“Two-hunnit Gs,” he told him, and Jeremiah’s eyes went wide.

“What?!” Jeremiah gasped, backing away from him a bit. “Ion got et kinda money,” he shook his head. “No.”

His foster father just chuckled. “C’mon, son. I need it,” he told him.

Jeremiah shook his head. “Ion got it. You talkin’ about two hunnit thousand!”

“Ain’tchu rey go pro?” he asked Jeremiah.

“I don’t have it! Leave me the fuck alone, fa I call the police,” Jeremiah told him.

“Oh, so you a rat now, Miah? I taught you betta than et,” he chuckled, walking closely to Jeremiah.

“Fuck you, nigga,” Jeremiah seethed at him.

The man just chuckled, pulling out his phone. “You gon’ gimme my fuckin’ money. Iss the least you can do fa me raisin’ you.” He poked Jeremiah’s shoulder, making him jump.

He felt a shudder from his touch, letting out almost a scream. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” He backed away from him.

“HEY, JEREMIAH!” He heard his name being shouted. He turned around, seeing a few other students run up to him. “What’s going on?” A girl asked him.

Jeremiah just stayed silent as he stared at the man.

“Nothin’, sweetheart—this is my someone that mean so much to me—ain’t that right, Jeremiah?” he put his arm around Jeremiah.

All the hairs on Jeremiah’s body stood up, and he almost felt ill, but he looked back at the girl, looked around, seeing he was in public… so he just nodded. “Yes,” he said low. “He is.”

The girl looked up at them very confused, “…Okay… I’ll see you later, Miah.”

“B-Bye, Christie.” Jeremiah forced a smile on his face

She waved to Jeremiah and his foster father before turning around and leaving.

The man who once called himself Jeremiah’s father turned towards him. “I need my money,” he said in a low tone, close to Jeremiah.

Jeremiah just felt like a little boy again.

“I don’t have it,” Jeremiah told him. “I c-can see what I do have,” he stuttered.

“You betta, or Imma let the world know about you n… Micah,” he whispered, then backed away completely, turning around and disappearing.

Jeremiah didn’t move an inch, not even once he was gone. He was paralyzed for a moment, and his mind swirled with everlasting thoughts of… everything.

He thought about his father. How, maybe this man would try and go after him too. He thought about Micah. He didn’t want them to be outed. How did he even find out? Has he been stalking Jeremiah?

These were just some of the thoughts that ran through his mind, accompanied by the resurging trauma and torment that he suffered at the hands of that man.

“Jeremiah?” he heard a voice call out to him. He looked up, seeing it was James.

“Wussup?” he asked.

“You okay?” James asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Jeremiah sighed and nodded.

“Who was et? He was fuckin’ witchu?” James asked him.

“Don’t worry ’bout me,” he told him. “I’m rey head ta practice tho. I’ll catchu later,” Jeremiah told him as he started to walk away.

“Wait–” James grabbed his arm. “I’m rey head thur too.”

“But practice fa everybody don’t start ’til one,” Jeremiah told him.

James shrugged. “I always come a luh bit early–Do I not?” he smirked. Jeremiah just raised a brow. “Look, I’m tryna be coo’. Youn gotta act weird around me. I still really like you, but–”

“You like me?” Jeremiah said, his eyes widened. He then started thinking of Micah’s words from last night, then it made sense.

“Are you stupid, Jeremiah?” James scoffed, and Jeremiah slightly frowned.

“No,” Jeremiah smacked his lips. “I’m not fuckin’ stupid.” He snapped a bit. He almost saw James as his foster father in that moment. A word that he was constantly called.

James was taken aback. “Woah, Ian mean ta offend you, It was a joke,” he chuckled. “I think you far from stupid–iss’ jus’ how you ain’t realize that I like you?”

Jeremiah shrugged, scratching the back of his head. “I’m the typa nigga whur you really gotta explain shit to.” He laughed.

James just shook his head, smiling at Jeremiah. “I see… so I guess I’m tellin’ you now that I like you, n I think you a great nigga,” James nodded.

Jeremiah was paralyzed for a moment. He looked at James, analyzing his face, to see if he was genuine or not. His mind was already swirling with other thoughts.

“You think I’m lyin’?” James asked, noticing Jeremiah’s lack of words in the moment.

“I wonda sum otha shit, but… I can’t speak on it,” Jeremiah told him. “But, Ion think you lyin’ about et in particular.” He shook his head.

James figured it had to do with Micah. He’s gonna leave you. James thought as he looked into Jeremiah’s eyes.

Although they weren’t on the best of terms at the moment, James knew his friend. Micah couldn’t handle what being with you means.

“Okay, long as it’s known,” James nodded his head up and down. “You look good today.” He smiled.

Jeremiah chuckled. “Thank you, and let’s gon’ n head ta practice, aight?” he told him.

James shook his head, putting an arm around Jeremiah’s shoulder, causing him to raise a brow.

“Damn, I can’t even touch you no more?” James chuckled, although he really felt a way on the inside.

Jeremiah shrugged. “I neva sed et. I jus’ ain’t inna mood fa allet, right now,” he told him, removing his arm.

He was overstimulated, and his foster father’s words about him being outed had him spooked.

The feeling of physical touch would only cause his body to go into overload.

An example is, imagine yourself as the main character of a horror movie. You’re being chased by the main villain, or you’re being haunted by a demon—imagine that fear, that anxiety, that horror you’re feeling…

Jeremiah feels like that when he’s overstimulated; however, through experiencing this feeling his whole life, he knows how to conceal it… slightly.

James rolled his eyes. “Okay. You wanna talk about it tho?” he asked.

“No,” Jeremiah said, then went silent as they headed towards the gym.

•••

Micah was already in the gym, practicing some free throws. He arrived around thirty minutes before he and Jeremiah were supposed to meet.

He seriously needed some extra practice, but of course, Micah was just naturally skilled at basketball, so he kept most of his skills.

It was about five minutes after their meeting time.

Micah looked at his phone, groaning. “Whur the fuck he at?” he muttered to himself.

“Micah!” he heard his name being called.

It was some girls who came into the gym. They liked to watch the boys practice.

“Wussup, Keyana!” he said back, looking to the right of her, seeing Junie. “Wussup, Junie.” He smiled and waved at her. She waved back. “I thought you ain’t fuck wit basketball, art girl?” he asked as he approached the two.

Junie just giggled. “Well, people change, Micah,” she told him, smiling up at him.

Keyana just looked between them. “You single, Micah?”

Micah chuckled, “It’s complicated. But, we not togetha,” he told them. “Don’t be runnin’ yo mouf how girls do onna internet, gossipin’ n shit.” He chuckled.

“Boy, bye,” Keyana put a hand up to Micah, making him and Junie laugh.

The three of them looked over when they heard the sounds of footsteps coming in contact with the squeaky gym floor.

Micah’s eyes widened when he saw Jeremiah walk into the gym with James.

He felt all the blood rushing through his body. It felt like he immediately vanished into a lava pit for how heated he became.

He pulled out his phone.

My Heart ❤️

meet me in the locker room <
u got me fucked up nigga <

Jeremiah felt his phone ding, knowing it was Micah because he had him set as a specific ringtone.

He read the message aloud, raising a brow in confusion.

“Is my day rey jus’ keep gettin’ fucked up?” Jeremiah scoffed to himself, seeing Micah heading towards the locker room.

He started following him, not noticing James behind him.

The two walked into the locker room, and Micah looked up, feeling his temperature rise even more.

He just looked past Jeremiah, going up to James, who was caught off guard as his body was pressed against the locker. “You wanna fight, my nigga?” he asked.

“Huh?” James asked. “Why the fuck would I wanna fight you?”

Micah chuckled. “Now, niggas is playin’ stupid. At this point, Ion give a fuck, bitch—lemme ask you cuz es nigga unreliable,” Micah pointed to Jeremih with his thumb while still looking at James.

“Back up a bit first, nigga,” James told him.

“Aight,” Micah raised both hands.

“Micah—” Jeremiah started. “Ain’t nun happened, bruh.”

“Like I was sayin’, I wanna ask, you was jus’ suckin’ my nigga dick?” Micah asked him.

“Micah,” Jeremiah scoffed, shocked that Micah revealed that they were fucking around.

“Nah, Ion give a fuck—Niggas already know. Ian stupid,” Micah spoke to Jeremiah.

James just chuckled. “Well, if you know, why you pressin’ me n not yo nigga?”

Micah just chuckled, backing up, and shaking his head, “I did check my nigga—now, I’m checkin’ you, a nigga who ‘pose ta be my fren!” Micah almost yelled.

“Micah, please,” Jeremiah grabbed him. “We in public,” he said low to him.

Micah just balled his fist up as his breathing calmed down; he just stared a hole into James’ face, who just looked back at him, saying nothing.

“I am yo fren. Ion see nun wrong wit havin’ feelins for a nigga,” James shrugged. “Last time I checked, you had a whole fiancé. How I know you n Miah wasn’t jus’ a fuck when he neva told me y’all was more,” James spoke.

Micah then turned to Jeremiah, glaring at him even harder. “Micah…” he started. “Ian even inna mood ta be doin’ alles witchu—Ian do shit wit et nigga, except walk in the damn buildin’!” Jeremiah spoke, feeling frustrated. “Why you always assume the worst of me?”

Micah just looked between them both. “So, y’all are a couple now?” James asked, feeling irritated at the thought.

Jeremiah just sighed. “Does it matter ta you?” he asked, then turned to Micah. “We needa be practicin’—”

“You still deflectin’—can’t even tell a nigga you fuckin’ wit me fa real,” Micah felt his voice shake a bit.

“What?” Jeremiah scoffed. He was over the day. He always felt like he was in the wrong or the bad guy. “I deadass explained ta you why I moved the way I did, n you still—bruh, I’m ova es shit,” he waved both of them. “Y’all can do whateva, fight, not, kiss, makeup, Ion give a fuck,” he shrugged. “I got bigga shit ta worry ’bout,” he spoke as he walked out of the locker room.

Micah was shocked by Jeremiah’s words. He never brushed him off like that. “Bigger shit ta worry ’bout?” he muttered to him.

His mind forgot about James in that moment until he saw him about to walk past him. “Jeremiah—” James started, but was pulled back by Micah, who yanked him so hard back, then pushed him to the ground. “What the fuck?” James stood up, about to push Micah back, but Micah had moved out of the way quickly.

“Imma letchu live cuz my feelins is really hurtin’ that you ratha chase Jeremiah than be frens wit me—havin’ us beef like sum bitches.” Micah started, and James stopped going after him to listen to what he was saying.

“Et wasn’t my intentions…” James spoke.

“I don’t cur what they was at this point,” Micah shrugged. “You chose whatchu wanted—him,” he shrugged. “So Imma choose too, n Imma always choose Jeremiah, n know he always gon’ choose me,” Micah told him, walking close. “N keep yo dick suckers shut, n yo slut ass away from my nigga unless you want me ta really fuck you up,” Micah spoke, looking into James’ eyes with his piercing green ones.

James just smiled, “Don’t worry, Ion want niggas ta know ’bout me neitha, and if Miah want me ta keep my great dick suckers away from him, then I will, he shrugged, walking off, leaving Micah standing there fuming.

Jeremiah was on the court, letting off some steam by shooting some free throws, just to warm up and get his blood pumping.

“Jeremiah!” he heard his name being called; he looked back, seeing Micah and James call out to him.

He looked back, seeing James heading towards him, looking at Micah, who just grabbed and yanked James from behind. “Oh, shit,” Jeremiah cursed, running towards the two before it got bad.

“I just told you, bitch,” Micah yelled as he swung at James’ face, grazing it with his fist, but James stepped back in time to not fully get hit.

He then charged towards Micah, “WHAT THE FUCK?” The other teammates in the gym started heading towards him.

Junie, who was on the sidelines, dialed up Meilie. “Gurl, why is Micah fightin’?” she told her.

“WHAT?” Meilie yelled through the phone.

“Stop yellin’, Mei. Jesus!” Junie spoke as she stepped a bit closer, seeing Jeremiah breaking up the fight.

“Bitch, I’m FaceTimin’ you now!” Meilie shouted through the phone, then Junie’s phone started ringing, with the signature FaceTime tune.

Junie answered the call, flipping the camera towards the altercation. “Oh, my god? He fightin’ Jeremiah?” Meilie gasped.

“No, sum otha fine ass light skin… He kinda looks like Micah,” Junie spoke.

“Bitch, es James. Fine ass nigga,” Keyana spoke aloud.

“James? Junelle, hand the phone ta Key!” Meilie spoke, and Keyana grabbed Junie’s hand, pointing the phone towards her. “Are you sure es James?”

“Bitch, yes. Look, Mei, I’m rey send you the nigga’s Instagram,” Keyana told Meilie, searching through her own phone.

“Wait, point the phone back,” Meilie spoke.

“Y’ALL STOP!” Jeremiah shouted as he pried Micah and James off each other. They were more wrestling at this point, although Micah’s eyebrow was busted, and James had a blackened eye.

“HOE ASS NIGGA!” Micah spat at him, feeling himself being restrained. “Get the fuck offa me, Jeremiah. You tryna save es nigga, huh?”

“Deadass, Micah–don’t continue pissin’ me off,” Jeremiah told him, sternness in his voice. “Calm the fuck down,” he told him, and Micah disregarded his statement, trying to break free, glaring at James, who was being restrained by some of their other teammates.

“What the fuck is y’all prolum?” Chase yelled as he held James back.

“Ask et delusional bitch,” James spat at Micah.

Micah chuckled. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way et nigga sed et,” he gave an unamused laugh. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way!” he yelled this time.

Jeremiah was beyond overstimulated in the moment. He felt his whole body shaking, and he felt like he would end up joining the fight soon.

“Calm down, bruh! We still at fuckin’ school, Micah–What the fuck is you doin’?” Jeremiah told him.

“Nigga, get offa me,” Micah yanked out of his grasp, and glared at Jeremiah.

Jeremiah only sighed, nodding. “I give up,” he raised his hands up and down, backing away.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOIN’ ON?!” Coach Carter yelled, blowing his whistle loudly. “EVERYBODY WHO’S NOT AN ATHLETE, GET THE HELL OUTTA MY GYM!” he yelled.

Everyone pretty much followed directions, including Micah and James, who were both spooked by Coach’s voice.

Jeremiah, however, was in a corner of the gym, shaking. He closed his eyes, feeling the tears starting to well up.

“Who the fuck is fightin’?” Coach asked, looking at everyone in the gym.

“Sorry, Coach,” James spoke up.

“Oh, so it’s you? Who was you fightin’?” Coach yelled in James’ face.

“Micah,” James said low, looking into Coach’s eyes.

Coach Carter whipped his head over towards Micah. “What?” he said in complete shock. He then looked back at James, then Micah. “Aren’t y’all close?”

“I thought so, Coach, but bitches is goofy,” Micah spat.

“Watch your damn mouth, boy!” Coach yelled.

“Yeah, cuz you ain’t rey keep callin’ me out my mufuckin’ name?” James bucked up again.

“What the fuck you tryna do?” Micah asked.

“HEY!” Coach yelled. “JEREMIAH!” he called out. “Take Micah’s ass outta here, until he can act like he got some damn sense!”

“But, es nigga started it!” Micah yelled

Jeremiah hadn’t even heard a word of what Coach had said. “JEREMIAH!” he yelled out.

Jeremiah looked up, running up to everyone.

“Take Micah’s ass outta here, until he’s calm,” Coach told him. “N you deal with James!” he pointed to Chase. “Now, both of you, get the hell outta my gym. We have things to do! N when you come back, MY OFFICE!” he yelled at the two.

Both Chase and Jeremiah sighed as they grabbed their assigned boys.

Jeremiah didn’t even want to interact with Micah at this point. He wanted to just go to his room, cry, and listen to his music to calm himself.

Micah noticed how Jeremiah just kept his head facing forward, not looking at him once as they walked out of the school building.

“Okay, youn gotta hold me like Imma damn dog,” Micah removed himself from Jeremiah’s grip.

Jeremiah just raised his hands in defense.

Micah just raised a brow. “The fuck you gotta problem fa?” he asked as they continued to walk, heading in the direction of their dorm.

Jeremiah just ignored him.

Micah scoffed. “You serious, my nigga?” he asked, still following behind Jeremiah.

Jeremiah just continued on.

“Jeremiah!” Micah raised his voice slightly; Jeremiah only sighed, groaning. “JEREMIAH!” he yelled, and Jeremiah turned around.

“STOP TALKIN’ TA ME, NIGGA!” Jeremiah yelled at him, causing Micah to completely pause in his tracks.

Jeremiah turned back around, continuing to walk forward. Micah just watched him, feeling an aching feeling in his heart.

“Jeremiah…” Micah said softly this time.

He started running after him to catch up with him.

Micah knew Jeremiah would never say something like that to him unless he really crossed the line, but he was so angry seeing them together.

After what Jeremiah confessed about his and James’ relationship, it just made Micah’s mind swirl.

He was still dealing with getting cheated on by his brother, whom he’s been compared to his whole life.

It was hard to believe Jeremiah when he told him that he was truly all about him, when all of his life, he’s felt like less than.

But Jeremiah felt that same way, that’s why every time Micah snapped at him, he felt triggered from his past of being snapped at over and over and over again when he was a child, over things he couldn’t control.

And today, he came into contact with that person, who just threatened him. He was trying to protect himself, his father, Micah, while being forced to deal with his own personal devil.

He just continued on to their dorm room.

Micah had just been walking behind him silently, feeling tears flow down his face as he stared at Jeremiah’s back.

The two approached room 303. Jeremiah hadn’t looked behind him once; Micah had never looked away from him.

He put in his key, opening their door, still not looking behind him, but holding the door open for Micah to walk through.

Micah just looked at him, wanting to say something, but he knew not to at that moment.

He gave him his space, watching as Jeremiah went into his room, shutting it behind himself. Micah just went up to his door, sitting down on the floor.

Jeremiah first lay down on his back, crossing his arms, hugging himself as he did breathing exercises to calm himself.

He did it continuously for about ten minutes, then he let go of himself.

He lay there for a moment before he got up, going to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.

These are methods he’s found to curb his anxiety.

Jeremiah then put on his headphones, and he listened to music while lying on his back for a while, almost falling asleep.

But… he couldn’t go to sleep. He remembered his interaction with Micah, and he hated it when they were in uncomfortable spaces.

He stood up, sliding off his headphones. He opened his door, smirking when he saw Micah’s body falling against the door.

He slipped through the crack, so Micah would fall on the floor, then he bent down, picked him up, carried him to the couch, and put him on his lap. “Wake up,” he chuckled, speaking into Micah’s ear.

Micah felt a chill go up his spine, awaking instantly from Jeremiah’s voice.

He looked over to him, seeing that he was now on his lap. “Yo ass would fall asleep afta causin’ chaos–jus’ like a bad ass kid,” Jeremiah laughed, making Micah laugh.

After their laughter died down, Micah’s expression shifted into something more somber. “I’m sorry,” he apologized in a low tone. “I jus’… You jus’ had told me, n Ion know, baby–it’s hard ta believe people sometimes because of how much I been fucked over.”

“But when have I ever lied ta you, Micah–I told you everythang. Good and bad,” Jeremiah told him.

“You right, es why I’m apologizin’. I know you love me. I know, it’s jus’…” Micah paused.

Jeremiah held his face. “I get it, baby. I swur I do, but iss also the way you handle shit–Ion like it when you handle me like et. It triggers me. I was snapped on every day as a child fa no reason, so when you do et… n I deadass don’t even be doin’ shit, I get triggered, n Ion even wanna talk, or be around you, at the moment,” Jeremiah explained.

Micah sighed, feeling guilt in his heart. “Baby, don’t start gettin’ in yo head. I’m tellin’ you es, so you can jus’ work on it, not because I hatechu, Micah. I love you.”

“I know,” Micah spoke.

Jeremiah grabbed his chin, making Micah give him eye contact. “So, act like it. Stop pushin’ me away, snappin’ on me, and stop hatin’ yoself because you not perfect, baby. I love you, so I’m bein’ vulnerable n tellin’ you es shit, so we can be betta, aight?” he told him, looking into his eyes.

Micah just nodded.

“Can you say sum?” Jeremiah asked.

“Aight, baby. I hur you. I jus’ feel bad,” Micah told him.

“I know, n I hate that.” Jeremiah kissed his lips, wrapping his arms around him.

Micah just cried; maybe he was overwhelmed, too. “Am I autistic too? I feel like I undastand exactly how you feel,” Micah sighed.

Jeremiah just laughed, “Ion know, baby–you might be,”  he told him, kissing his cheek.

Micah pulled back, “You promised youn hate me,” he asked in a low voice, feeling emotional.

From his parents still treating him like he didn’t matter, to one of his best friends doing the same, his mind was also stuck on what to believe.

“I promise–God, Allah, Buddha–whoeva can strike me down if I’m lyin’,” Jeremiah assured him with a nod.

Micah just chuckled, “You are goofy, baby,” he laughed, feeling a tear drop from his eye.

Jeremiah just smiled, wiping it with his thumb, leaning in to kiss him.

Micah wrapped his arms around Jeremiah’s neck, feeling as Jeremiah changed their positions, laying Micah on his back as they kissed.

He wrapped Micah’s legs around his waist, slightly grinding down on him as Micah sucked on his lips, biting one. “I love you, Jeremiah,” he told him, looking into his eyes.

Jeremiah raised up, pulling his muscle shirt over his head, “I love you too, Micah,” he responded, watching as Micah pulled down his basketball shorts and briefs.

Micah felt his heart start racing a bit in anticipation.

After his underwear was off, he started fiddling with Jeremiah’s waistband, reaching inside to pull his half-hard dick out. “Lemme show you I’m sorry, daddy,” Micah told him as he stroked Jeremiah.

Jeremiah let out a low gasp, nodding, then falling on his back to the other side of the couch. “Go ‘head,” he said, biting down hard on his lip, watching Micah climb to where his face was hovering over Jeremiah’s dick.

He opened his mouth wide, letting spit fall from his lips before he started taking Jeremiah’s length into his mouth, slowly, inch by inch.

Micah started sloppily bobbing his head up and down about half of his dick. “Damn, baby,” Jeremiah moaned, lifting his head up to watch Micah’s pink lips slide up and down his dick.

He put his hand on the side of Micah’s head, “Relax ya throat,” he breathed, putting his other hand on the other side of his face.

Micah did his best to do as Jeremih told him, relaxing his throat to the best of his abilities, feeling as Jeremiah gently shoved his head down.

Micah just opened his mouth wider, feeling his eyes and nose burn, but he wasn’t a quitter.

His nose was about two-thirds shy of Jeremiah’s stomach before he gagged, and Jeremiah pulled his head up so he could breathe. “Good, boy,” Jeremiah praised him, caressing his face. “Et was real good, baby.”

Micah only felt himself throb at his praises before he went back down on him, putting Jeremiah’s hands back on top of his head.

Jeremiah only felt his dick twitch a bit, seeing Micah being so submissive; Micah hummed at the feeling of Jeremiah leaking precum on his tongue.

“You gon’ swallow es dick, my luh whore?” Jeremiah chuckled, and he felt Micah pull up, probably to say something smart, but he didn’t get a chance before Jeremiah shoved his head down.

He heard Micah gag a bit, so he let him up just a little before shoving it back down.

Micah couldn’t help but feel himself start to leak precum and his hole throbbing.

He then felt Jeremiah grab the back of his head, pulling him off his dick as he grabbed it with his other hand, slapping it across Micah’s face and lips a few times. “You my luh whore?” he asked.

“Fuck you, nigga,” Micah spat at him.

“I knew yo ass didn’t need ta talk. Whores only need dick in they mouths,” Jeremiah told him, pushing his head back down, shoving it back down Micah’s throat.

Micah just let Jeremiah have his way with his mouth, wiggling his toes, trying not to touch his throbbing and twitching dick; he’d probably cum from how turned on he was.

“Shit, baby—Imma nut,” Jeremiah moaned, feeling his eyes roll back. “I love you,” he moaned in a higher-pitched voice, going silent for a moment to enjoy the wet sounds of Micah sucking him.

He just heard and felt as Micah let out a hum around him, which caused Jeremiah to nut early, and Micah felt the warmth of his cum filling his mouth.

Jeremiah tried to pull Micah off, but Micah continued sucking him until he was done cumming. “H-Hollon’, baby—sss,” Jeremiah hissed, pulling Micah off of him, looking at how pretty he looked.

Micah’s eyes just showcased total submission as his lips shone from his cum and saliva. “Damn,” Jeremiah breathed, staring at Micah, feeling himself get hard again.

“I need you,” Micah whispered, and Jeremiah nodded, flipping them once more until Micah was on his back. He sucked on his middle two fingers before he started fingering Micah while kissing him.

Micah just moaned, his hole pulsing around Jeremiah’s fingers. He craved him.

“Unh,” Micah moaned in Jeremiah’s mouth before biting down on his lip. “Put et bitch in,” he breathed, making Jeremiah chuckle.

“Impatient, ain’tchu?” Jeremiah kissed his lips again, grabbing the back of his head with one hand, sucking and pulling on his tongue, rubbing against Micah’s prostate with his fingertips.

“Mmmm,” Micah let out a dragged moan. “I wanna feel you, daddy, please,” Micah pleaded, grabbing his dick, moving his hips a bit on his fingers.

“Okay, baby,” Jeremiah kissed his lips, pulling his fingers out.

Micah grabbed Jeremiah’s face. “Don’t do too much—we still got practice,” he told him, and Jeremiah nodded, grabbing Micah’s legs, wrapping them around his torso.

He then aligned himself with Micah, slowly shoving his dick inside of his tight, throbbing hole.

“Oooo—st-stop—Imma nut,” Micah breathed. He was already very turned on from giving Jeremiah head.

“So what?” Jeremiah asked, holding Micah’s legs in place as he continued pushing inside of him until he bottomed out.

“F-Fuck,” Micah moaned, feeling his dick slowly leak cum. “O-Oh, Jeremiah,” he moaned, feeling as Jeremiah slowly started to thrust into him.

“Wussup?” Jeremiah breathed. “I swur es shit is pussy,” he smacked Micah’s thigh, shoving his dick back inside of Micah, feeling his hole throb around him.

Micah just whimpered, “Baby,” he whispered, “Ohh, shit,” he moaned as Jeremiah rolled his hips inside of him.

He watched as Jeremiah grabbed his legs, pushing them towards Micah’s stomach, and holding his thighs there with his hands as he started skillfully whining his hips. “Ooo, fuck,” Micah cursed. “You in my stomach, daddy.”

“Es whur I’m supposed ta be at,” Jeremiah breathed, looking down, watching the way Micah’s hole clung to his dick.

“Ahh, ahhhh—oh, my god, baby,” Micah moaned each time he felt the tip of Jeremiah’s dick touch his sweet spot.

He pulled out of Micah, flipping him onto his stomach, lifting him until he was on his knees.

Jeremiah held his hip with one hand, guiding his dick back into him with the other. “Mmmm,” Micah hummed, reaching back to hold himself open, feeling Jeremiah even more as he slid back in.

“Move,” Jeremiah told him, moving Micah’s hand.

He pinned it to his back as he started giving Micah backshots. “Fuck, Jeremiah. Fuck, daddy,” Micah moaned to each stroke. “Ahh,” Micah let out a high-pitched moan when he felt Jeremiah slap his ass.

“Juicin’ all on my dick, baby,” Jeremiah breathed, watching the way the transparent white mess builds up on his dick.

“Es cuz you fuckin’ me right, daddy,” Micah told him, making Jeremiah’s dick throb.

“I am ain’t I?” Jeremiah asked, slapping his ass.

There were no words exchanged between the two as Jeremiah continued to pump in and out of Micah’s hole, hearing the sounds of his ragged moans.

Jeremiah felt his dick throbbing as he continued to fuck him. He pulled all the way out, slamming into Micah until he was near his orgasm. “Damn, daddy, damn,” Micah gasped, feeling his own dick throb.

Right when he was about to nut, Jeremiah pulled out of Micah, cumming on his back, ass, and hole.

He slapped his ass, reaching down to stroke Micah until he came too.

The two then collapsed on each other for a second to catch their breath.

“I wanna take a nap now,” Micah spoke.

“Coach gon’ kill us,” Jeremiah chuckled.

Micah just groaned as Jeremiah stood up, picking Micah up and carrying him to his bathroom.

Once they cleaned up, they put their clothes back on and prepared to head back to the gym.

They were standing by their door, and Micah was about to open it before Jeremiah stopped him.

“Hollon’,” he said, turning Micah around.

He grabbed his chin, giving him a few kisses. “You calm now?” he asked, and Micah nodded, smirking on his lips. “No more fightin’?”

“No.” Micah shook his head. “Imma be good, daddy.” He giggled.

He was in a great mood now.

“Good—let’s focus on beatin’ yo bitch ass brotha now,” Jeremiah told him.

Micah just smiled. “Okay, I love you,” he told him, puckering his lips.

Jeremiah gave him a few deep pecks. “I love you, too,” he said back before they exited their dorm.

Once they arrived back at the gym, Micah was immediately summoned to the Coach’s office.

James was already in there, seeing Micah walk inside with a slight glow to him, although he wasn’t smiling.

He sat down, not even looking at James once.

Coach was already behind his desk with his hands folded. “So, what the hell is the issue?” he asked, looking between the two.

They both remained silent.

Both of them refused to tell the real truth.

“Jus’ sum personal, Coach,” Micah told him.

“What’s your answer, James?” Coach asked.

James looked at Micah from his peripheral vision, noticing how red his lips were, or the small mark that peeked from his neck.

He knew that wasn’t there before their altercation.

He felt his chest tighten. “Well, what is it?” Coach asked with more bass in his voice.

“Like Micah said, iss jus’ personal,” he shrugged.

Coach chuckled, “Alright, laps for the rest of practice. Don’t stop runnin’ ’til your legs are physically unable, and you two are BENCHED NEXT GAME! AM I CLEAR?” he yelled the last part.

“Damn,” Micah muttered. “Yes, sir!” he yelled.

“YES, SIR!” James repeated.

“Get the hell out of my face,” Coach Carter shooed them away, and the two immediately exited his office.

Everyone looked over at them. “What the fuck happened, Miah?” Jordan asked as he, Chase, Taylor, and Jeremiah watched the two start doing laps around the big gym.

Jeremiah sighed. “Es sum you gotta ask them,” he told the three, shaking his head. “Tay, I need you fa now. I need get in gear fa MJ,” he told him, and Taylor nodded.

“I’m boutta be nosy,” Jordan chuckled, running over to Micah first.

“Get your ass back over there!” Coach came out of his office, seeing Jordan running alongside Micah.

Micah just chuckled. “Es whatcho dumbass gets,” he laughed.

“Et nigga look completely different from earlier,” Chase spoke.

“Nigga smilin’ like shit, fa a nigga who jus’ fought his friend,” Taylor spoke.

Jeremiah just shook his head, thinking of why Micah was in such a good mood.

“He’s jus’ onna high,” Jeremiah chuckled.

“Ohhh, y’all smoked?” Chase laughed. “Good, cuz et nigga was wilin’,” he dapped Jeremiah up.

“Shhh, fa Coach hur,” Taylor shushed them.

“Alright!” Coach called all the boys’ attention, except for Micah and James.

He started explaining how practice would go for the rest of the year, and he explained what he had told the two in the office, saying that they would sit out the next game.

“But, they two of our best players, Coach…” Chase spoke up.

“I don’t give a damn. I’ve been too lax lately. Next game, they’re out, and Micah should be spending his free time practicing with Jeremiah. Is that clear?” he spoke as Micah came jogging around in his view.

“Yes, sir!” Micah yelled as he continued to run.

He was upset that he was put out next game, but maybe it wasn’t best for him to play this week, for he had just returned.

Micah could focus on training Jeremiah, then getting his reputation back when Jeremiah won.

He was thinking forward at this moment. Something he rarely did.

•••

Practice ended with all the boys sweating bullets.

James and Micah were on the flo,w wheezing, for they had to jog for a couple of hours straight, with one break.

“I deadass can’t breathe,” Micah breathed, seeing Jeremiah come over to help him up.

Micah smiled as they headed towards the locker room.

“Y’all wanna come ova ta the crib, blow off sum more steam?” Taylor asked the two as they walked in, putting an arm around Jeremiah.

“You already know I do,” Micah dapped him up, chuckling.

James walked in after, and the room really got silent. “You good, brody?” Taylor asked him.

He just nodded. “You wanna come ova?”

“Taylor,” Jeremiah spoke.

“Nah, I’m coo’,” James spoke up.

“Niggas wasn’t gon’ get in if I–” Micah started, then stopped, feeling Jeremiah’s eyes on the side of his face.

“I want my niggas ta be coo,” Jordan spoke, putting his arm around James, bringing him over to the other three.

“They will be, they jus’ need some space,” Jeremiah told them.

“Wuss goin’ on?” Chase asked.

“Sum shit that really ain’t gonna be spoke on,” Micah spoke up.

“I can agree with et–now, I barely can walk. I’m goin’ ta my room,” James said, removing himself from Jordan’s arm, then walking away.

“Well… us five, Taylor’s house. CoD?” Jordan asked.

The five of them nodded.

“Everybody meet up in thirty!” Taylor shouted to them as everyone dispersed from the locker room.

“Essa bet!” Jordan shouted, then the other four raced to their dorms.

Micah was the slowest because his legs were beyond sore.

“Coach did me dirty, dawg!” he yelled as he watched everyone run in front of him.

Once everyone was in the building, they all grabbed water from the vending machine to gulp them down.

Everyone panted and caught their breaths again, getting onto the elevator.

“I can’t believe you niggas fought,” Jordan spoke.

Micah was about to speak, but his phone rang. It was Meilie. “Wassup?” Micah answered the phone. “Are you okay, Micah? I been trying ta call you fa hours.”

“I’m okay. Imma call you toma, okay. Imma luh busy. I’m good tho, Mei. Don’t trip, aight?” Micah told her.

Meilie sighed, “Okay,” she told him, hanging up the phone.

“Yo new girlfriend mad?” Jordan chuckled.

Micah just smacked his lips.

“She don’t even like niggas,” he told them.

“Uh, huh,” Taylor chuckled, making everyone laugh.

Jeremiah just stayed silent, not finding the conversation amusing. 

Once they arrived to the third floor, the boys split up, with Micah and Jermeiah heading towards their room, and Jordan and Chase heading in the opposite direction.

Once the two were inside, they both hopped in the shower together, sharing some kisses, then got out.

They decided to pregame and share a shot together. “You inna great mood, although you got benched.” Jeremiah chuckled as they clinked their glasses together.

“Es what happens when yo nigga fuck you stupid, right before you get bad news–nothin’ is bad news,” Micah chuckled.

Jeremiah just laughed. “Let’s go fa Tay be blowin’ us up.” He then sent Taylor a text saying they were on their way.

The two then headed to Micah’s car, since it was the closest. “You wanna drive or me?” Jeremiah asked, and Micah shrugged, grabbing the keys from him.

“I’ll drive,” Micah told him.

They hopped in the car, heading towards Taylor’s apartment, which was close by.

“You was suckin’ a nigga good today,” Jeremiah told him.

Micah sighed. “You distractin’ me,” he chuckled.

“That shot distractin’ me already—I can’t stop starin’ at them pretty lips. You know how we get. One round ain’t enough.” Jeremiah giggled.

Micah glanced over to him. “So whatchu tryna do?”

“Wait ’til we park,” Jeremiah smirked, licking over his lips, grabbing Micah’s thigh.

“You betta quit fa I crash es bitch,” Micah chuckled.

They soon arrived at Taylor’s apartment building.

Micah parked, and as soon as he turned the car off, he climbed into Jeremiah’s lap.

Jeremiah put his hands on Micah’s ass, gripping it, feeling Micah raise his hips up and down. “Pull et shit out, daddy,” Micah whispered in Jeremiah’s ear.

Jeremiah felt a chill go up his spine, “Pull it out yaself,” he told him.

Micah smirked, reaching into Jeremiah’s pants, pulling out his dick. “Imma ride it fa you,” Micah spoke on Jeremiah’s lips, pulling his own shorts down.

“I luh ta hur it—Go ahead, baby,” Jeremiah sucked his bottom lip, smacking his ass.

Micah squatted above Jeremiah, who leaned his seat back, grabbing his dick, aligning himself with Jeremiah’s tip.

“Oh, shit,” Micah breathed as he started to sink down on Jeremiah’s hard dick.

A while later, upstairs, “Whur ’em niggas at?” Jordan chuckled.

Taylor shrugged, looking at his phone.

He looked at the messages between him and Jeremiah, seeing that he said he was leaving about thirty minutes ago.

Taylor started to call him, but ended up clicking on his location, seeing that Jeremiah was at… his apartment.

“It say ‘ese niggas hur,” Taylor chuckled.

“Well, go get ’em! I’m tryna play Warzone,” Jordan plopped down on his couch after getting himself something to drink.

Taylor groaned, slipping back on his shoes.

He jogged downstairs, eyeing Micah’s car.

Taylor went up to the passenger’s seat, instinctively opening it up; his eyes widening open when he saw Micah on top of Jeremiah… getting fucked.

His first reaction was to slam the car door shut.

Jeremiah and Micah jumped out of their skin, barely processing what happened.

“Oh, fuck!” Jeremiah cursed loudly, facepalming himself.

•••

to be continued…

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•••

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