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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There was something particularly annoying about working full-time. It meant Zachary didn't get to see Leroy very often because they were both swamped with work. They did meet up here and there, but one or the other was constantly tired. Sometimes both of them were, and they'd spend the evening curled up in bed, fading back and forth from being awake to being in a deep sleep. Zachary still treasured these moments though, but he wished he could do more—talk more, plan more, especially now that things between them were more tender. The uncertainty had cleared and made way for longing that they'd not had time to address.
"Are we stopping at the next street?" the cab driver asked, making Zachary look away from the window of the back seat.
"Yes," he said with a nod, turning back to face the passing houses. He was in a cab to Leroy's place now. It wasn't one of their after-work sleepovers this time. It was Friday evening, and there was a coming long holiday, and the two had planned to spend the entire weekend together at Leroy's place. Emilia had pestered Zachary about coming to her fair, so they'd also be going to that on Monday.
When the cab came to a stop in front of the Adkin's home, Zachary got out and made his way to the front door. He rang the doorbell, remembering the first time he'd been here—so unsure of himself that he'd practiced what to say when Leroy opened the door. This time he just waited, listening to the sound of footsteps before watching the door handle turn. Leroy's face looked through the slight opening—a dimpled smile plastered on his face.
"You're here," the younger man said, smiling at the older man. "Home it wasn't a hassle getting here by yourself."
"It wasn't," Zachary said, feeling his expression soften as he looked at Leroy. It was getting a little dark, seeing as it was seven in the evening on a Thursday afternoon. Zach watched Leroy nibble on his lips as the younger man moved to the floor. He noticed that—they both couldn't look at each other for very long. It often was intense, steering feelings that would make the decent public blush.
"We're having dinner in a few. Would you like to drop your stuff upstairs first?" Leroy asked, stepping aside so Zachary could walk in. The older man nodded, his head looking in the direction of the hallway.
"You're here!" Emilia said from the living room, making Zachary look over to the sofas in the living room, and sure enough, Leroy's sister was curled up in one of them, waving aggressively at him. He managed to wave back, muttering a 'hey' that she definitely could not hear.
"Is he going to have lunch?" Leroy's mother asked from the kitchen, sticking out his head.
"Yeah," Leroy said, reaching out to touch Zachary's shoulder. "We'll be down in a bit," he added, reaching out to take Zachary's bag from him.
"Okay, we're having cod, hope that's okay?" Leroy's mother asked and Zachary nodded before looking over at Leroy who'd tugged at his arm again.
