What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

Association

The ride home was silent. Red was as unbothered as ever, but Emory had a lot on his mind. 

As the car was parked, Emory remained in the passenger seat, not moving toward the door. "Can I go for a drive?" He asked. He needed to clear his thoughts--to do something, not sit around and wait for them to engulf him. 

Red leaned his head back against the headrest, staring at him for a brief moment before supplying an answer, "Yeah. Are you alright?" 

Emory shrugged and nodded as he made eye contact. "I wanna go for a drive. What's so wrong with that?" 

"Call me if you need anything, then." Red sighed before tossing the keys into Emory's lap as he got out of the car. He paused, arm resting on the roof as he leaned down, staring once more. "In fact, call me if anything happens. I don't care if it's not a need." 

"Do I look like your boyfriend?" Emory scoffed, rolling his eyes as he began getting out of the car himself, making his way to the driver's seat, coming to a halt in front of Red, who turned to face him. 

"You do. That's why my ring is on your finger."  

"You're a jackass. Move the fuck out my way," Emory grumbled, shoving past Red. 

"Be safe, baby," He responded mockingly before heading inside, acting as if he hadn't said a single thing. 

He drove aimlessly on the road for a bit, not exactly sure where he was going. He didn't need to know his destination; that wasn't important. 

He was thankful that the case was over, that he wouldn't have to deal with rotting inside a jail cell like he did in juvie. 

He would've been tried as an adult, sent to the big leagues with all the murderers, rapists, pedophiles, you name it. If it weren't for Red, he wouldn't have the chance to be in this car, on this road. 

At least he was on a road. 

By the time he snapped back to reality, the car was parked on top of a hill. 

He sat there for a moment, taking in his surroundings, before stepping out onto the grass that coated the scenery. 

Making his way up the well-known route to the top of the hill, he came to a stop where it sloped into a smooth cliff. 

It was a nostalgic feeling to have the breeze against his face as he stood in the grass in this very spot, yet it also made his heart ache at the distinct memories that made this place so familiar to him. 

As he lowered himself onto the ground in the only open space between the worn-down spruce fences, he hung his legs over the edge of the cliff, staring down into the river far beneath him, laced with rocks hiding in the depths of the water. 

He barely had a second of peace before he heard a car approaching behind him. 

Wasting no time, he shot to his feet and spun around, a cop car coming to a halt beside his. 

The car door slowly opened, a voice breaking the silence before the face that went with it came into the atmosphere. 

"Relax, son. I'm not here to get on your ass about anything, I just wanna talk to you." Soon enough, the officer emerged. It turned out to be none other than Officer Ramirez, the one who had done Emory's processing when he was taken into custody. 

Had it been anyone else, Emory would've ran, guilty or not. Instead, his body language eased up as he remained in his current stance. 

Ramirez made his way over, stopping next to Emory before simply sitting down, waiting for Emory to do the same. "Come on, kid. I don't bite."