The Party on Abudu Smith Street

Rookie

Farouq, Rookie, spent the whole day trying to get his parents off his scent because he had to play the desperate wild card and sneak out tonight. There were no more sleepover cards to play, no more vigil cards, no more time-flew-by cards.

Sneaking out was it. And he didn't mind the price.

The party on Abudu Smith street, Victoria Island, was all his friends talked about. One of them, Dele, was going to be meeting with this guy he'd been talking to for sometime now, 4th date or so.

This would be his first party. His first partay for the boys.

And it's 6pm. The location is Party.

Party: (n.) a gathering of angels, dangels and demons.

Farouq quickly felt at home. He had even started vibing to Rema's Calm Down when he saw a sexy dangel. He was the perfect splice of good and bad, just how Farouq liked his men.

Flo. His name.

"His friends call him Flo but he's actually Folarin."

That wasn't his thoughts speaking, that was Dele - he saw Farouq slobbering at Flo the whole two minutes.

"Go talk to him, Rookie."

Sure, you can go on to guess how he got that sobriquet. It's quite rich.

Before he could protest, Dele left but not before he had rolled his eyes unbeknownst to Rookie.

Rookie started to ponder the usual; strategy. But luck was different today. He didn't even have to approach Flo. Flo was already doing the moonwalk toward him.

'This is it! This is it!! Okay, boy! Keep calm, boy!'

Flo was smooth. He flowed, literally.
In a matter of minutes, he had Farouq grinning from ear-to-ear, clutching at the neckline of his V-neck vest.

Farouq couldn't stop staring into Flo's beautiful feline eyes. His long lashes looked quite feminine and accentuated his mildly feral eyes. The eyes that said "I intoxicate."

Farouq bit his jawline a lot and apparently, Flo liked it. He tells Farouq that and again, grin grin grin.

'How old are you?'

'22, but I am not the regular 22-year-old."

'Oh I can see that, dear one.'

Dear one??
Farouq tried hard to not find a drop in interest from Flo so he rather did not look into his eyes. He decided that he won't let this man determine for him how much he could handle and how much he couldn't.

'-I can tell you're a good kisser.'

Flo was entirely intrigued now. Who is this intrepid kid?

'Okay! So, tell me. Have you kissed much to know this?'

'I believe more in showing you. If you're open to a ... I'm going to take a guess, 30-year-old being kissed by a lad 8 years younger.'

'Have you been with many 30-year-olds?'
Rookie nodded. He lies.
'I see. Come with me.'

Flo guides them both to the parking garage where his vintage Ford is parked. It is coincidentally, not so coincidentally, parked around a dark spot in the garage so the light was fading into a soft blue that garnished the Ford's red interior.

Inside the car, Farouq takes in a deep breath very quickly and leans forward to Flo's bearded face and presses his full lips upon his.
And right there, magic happened.

What seemed like an eternity passed with those two locking lips and sucking face. There was the occasional grinding of torsos but that was as far as Flo let it.

Flo took a second, leaned back and looked into the eyes of this young man.
He ran his fingers through his 4-month grown Afro of 4A curl type - beautiful Yorùbá boy with dark skin, slim cheekbones, razor sharp jawline, dark lips, and with the most white teeth that made a smile look like God's blessing for the moment.

He looked at his new lover. This one isn't going anywhere, hang age.

In his thoughts, it was from that day that Farouq ceased to be called Rookie. He would deal with his parents' text that came in 10 minutes before then informing him that they had realized he was not in his room at 1 am.