time 06 | i thought of you to, like, the ninth degree

143 10 7
                                    

song is sorrow by life without buildings

JoJo woke up to Leo packing a bowl. He was in his boxers now, meaning he'd taken his crusty ass jeans off in the middle of the night. Asshole let JoJo sleep in his. He was instantly forgiven, of course, given the way he looked so cute all cross legged in his giant Kate Bush shirt, hair a mess. Leo hit the bong before pulling his shirt over his nose and blowing smoke down into it as though the flimsy cotton would hide the scent of weed, like, at all. He popped his head back out and turned to JoJo. "Quieres?"

"Hell yeah." He slowly sat up to take it from Leo's hand. JoJo took a couple hits while he watched Leo stand up, stretch with a grunt, and head for his closet. The mornings after a sleepover were always so tranquil. JoJo would sometimes imagine they were in an apartment of their own sometime in the future. They would, of course, be together in his imaginary world, spend the whole day hanging out, watching movies, goofing around (in more ways than one) (horny bastard).

This was real life, though, so JoJo hid Leo's bong under his hoodie from the night before and got up to dig through his designated drawer. He pulled out a shirt they'd adhered those iron-on letters to (it was black, reading "god is real and he tried to suck my dick") before turning back towards Leo's bed to change. He didn't want Leo to see the bruising on his chest from the last altercation with his mom.

The Bowl Incident™️ was so infuriatingly stupid it made him sick to his stomach — he'd eaten the last of his moms cereal while stoned out of his mind and didn't buy a replacement fast enough. They'd been fighting all day — all week — and it was the last straw. She wanted her cereal for dessert. It was gone. She threw the bowl at his chest so hard it shattered.

New shirt on, he turned around to see Leo changed into a Supergrass tee (gay ass), jeans back on, arms awkwardly positioned to put on his deodorant without letting his stomach show. He finished under his other arm before handing it to JoJo. "Your makeup wore off last night, egghead."

"Yeah," He realized, hand finding his bruise before he even knew he was doing it. His cheek didn't hurt as bad as it had the day before, but it was still sore. The weed helped a bit, too. He hadn't wanted to talk much about it, but it looked like he was going to have to. "Think your mom saw?"

Leo shrugged. "I have some of Jones' face stuff she left here the other day, I could prolly cover it."

"Sick"

+

Leo's thin fingers dug into the little tub of concealer in a way he hoped wouldn't piss Jones off. He was sat on the counter, back facing the covered mirror and JoJo was leaning up against it, between his knees. JoJo liked being at face level with Leo, who swiped his finger gently across the bruise on his cheekbone before tapping softly to blend the pigment in.

JoJo hissed softly, closed his eyes a second when he tapped around the sorest part. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands. He wanted to put them around Leo's waist, and he knew Leo wouldn't mind if he did, but he also knew he'd just hurt his own feelings because he would then want to kiss his friend, and he was sure Leo would mind that. He settled for tapping out a rhythm on Leo's knees and admiring his pretty face. His nose was cute, his eyelashes were long, his dark brown eyes were focused. The scar across his eye had long settled into a brown color just darker than his skin. It made him look pretty badass, but remembering that day always hurt his heart. Seeing his best friend get attacked by his own brother, all the blood spilling onto the lawn. The cut was so scary to look at, he was scared Leo would go blind. He had been unspeakably terrified that day. It was one of the first times he realized just how much he cared about Leo. He couldn't get himself to let go of his hand the whole way to the hospital, when they were stitching up his face, even after the fact — he fell asleep holding Leo's hand, wouldn't let anyone touch him for a month after.

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