Leroy Adkins is an underperformer. He barely graduated. He barely got a job, and he hardly socializes in his day-to-day life.
Zachary Turner has been sick for as long as he can remember, and as he grows older the crushing realization that he never...
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"I'm just going to be gone for the afternoon. It's not a big deal," Leroy said as he made a turn. He was speaking to his sister on his phone that was propped up on a phone holder by the steering wheel.
It was a Sunday, and Leroy was on his way to pick Zachary up to do some grocery shopping. At first, he'd just been leaving the house as usual, and then his sister had started a racket when she noticed that Zachary was taking their mum's car. She wanted to know if he was off for a date and trying to impress a girl or something, but the man had simply shrugged her off, telling her he was going to get groceries before asking her what she wanted.
She didn't believe him, of course, and decided to call him on the phone to continue her inquisition about his whereabouts.
"Don't kill somebody," his sister said from the other end, and Leroy sighed, rolling his eyes as he made a turn.
"I'm not the best driver, but I'm not the worst. You've bumped into more things than me."
"That's because you quit after your first accident."
"I wouldn't call that an accident if we don't call your curb abuse accidents," Leroy shot back, changing the gear as he came up to the house Zachary lived in. He could feel his heart begin to slow down, as nerves twisted together in the pit of his stomach.
He hadn't seen Zachary in a while, and even though they talked every day, it was just different interacting with him in person. He was less dry, more animated, and his humor was the type that involved facial expressions that Leroy couldn't make out through text, and he missed that, even though it'd only been a week.
Calm down. He told himself, as he came to a halt on the driveway. "I'll talk to you later," he told his sister, who had been silent on the other line before hanging up. He then scrolled through his contact list, then pressed the call button for Zachary, and waited.
The phone rang for a while, denting the car's otherwise pin-drop silence. When Zach picked up the call, he muttered a raspy, "hello?"
"Hi. I—it's Leroy. I'm outside," the younger man said, staring at the phone as his heart beat a little faster. The last time Leroy had been to this house—had seen Zachary in person—was when he had slept over after they'd watched a movie. It was the worst sleep he'd had, and it wasn't because Zach's bed was uncomfortable or that Zach had made things weird. It was just him being paranoid and fighting with his own thoughts, as the older man had slept like a baby next to him. Leroy had spent most of that night just observing Zach, staring at his features, and noticing how his slightly parted lips let out the cutest snore he'd ever heard.
He'd also been fighting the urge to hug him, kiss him—fuck, he'd been battling a whole boner even though that's not something he'd fully admitted to himself yet.
"Oh, okay, give me a few minutes. I'll be getting out soon," the older man said, hanging up. Leroy blinked at his screen, turning away from it to look out of his window. He stared at the house's porch, expecting Zachary to step out at any minute.
