SEX AND THE BOY ✓

NEWCASTLE, CASTLESON & CASTLE NUTS

"LEE! DON'T FORGET YOUR SANDWICH! S'on the kitchen table!" Onika's Caribbean accent reverberates across the house with casualness that will make a sane person think twice about the Slayberry's net worth. Born in Trinidad and bred in Queens, Onika is almost literally the black sheep of the family who trinkets and checks never seem to effect an eyeblink out of.

Leroi abstractedly takes a grab at the soggy disaster staining a rainy cloud of oil on the marble, another ear against his phone absorbing the needlelike words of Whiskey's doctor.

"Okay, thank you. I'll bring him again this evening for checkup."

"As long as you come in the evening hours of 6 to 9."

"And make sure you email me his drug bills because if anything happens to my bird, you're going to jail."

Leroi's face is in angry folds directed at the blistering morning sunshine full of vitamin D that should've been euphoric but unfortunately, this vet doctor just has to fuck it up.

The woman who happens to be Maurice's aunt giggles from the phone and this only makes Leroi's mood crease more. "That's funny but your feathery friend is going to be--"

"I'm not kidding." And Leroi hangs up just in time to see the cat lady of the street who lives directly adjacent to his house wave him. She's watering her little catnip garden.

Leroi strains a smile, forgoing all the horror her cats have caused Whiskey for the moment. "Good morning to you too, Miss Margarita."

Running an exhausted finger across his hair, he slots his sunglasses between his ears and hops into his beloved Porsche, revs the engine and vrooms out of the scene.

Suburban vegetation glides against the glasses and his shiny car as he breezes through. The perfect song for the moment is playing out of his speakers and it's Taylor Swift's Lover. It's cringey and not really Leroi's style but whatever Spotify says.

Soon, he arrives at his destination under the wire of Maurice waiting on the porch and slapping his musty Motorola against his thigh. That phone has always been a nuisance and Leroi notes it at the back of his mind.

Just seeing the taller boy fans away every thought on his mind and a big smile dawns on his face. Butterflies explodes in his guts and there's this bout of air that suddenly fills his lungs. He just can't help but to exhale it and inhale the vibes sunlight is giving, especially on Maurice who's on a baggy top flashing tiger stripes and equally baggy shorts.

To Leroi, if amazing is a six year old, then Maurice should rot in jail forever because he's fucking amazing.

The Porsche pulls to a stop but the engine is still on. Everything about the street is calm but this house, Maurice's kind of stands out amongst the rest, Leroi notices and it's not in a good way. His lips pursing ever so momentarily, the night Leroi delivered a hammered Maurice to his father flickers behind his eyes and even though he wasn't here doesn't help not wondering what happened in this house.

Maurice reciprocates the colossal smile stapled on Leroi's face like a royal correspondence seal and skips into the car. The furry seats tends to his butt and while he settles into it plants his lips on the black boy's for a little too long.

Leroi's knees grows weaker on the brake pedal.

"What's up, sexy?" Leroi manages to say from the giddy goosebumps numbing his skin. "You look so beautiful today."

"Oh, don't flatter me Leroi."

Leroi takes on a meme face. "I'm not trying to flatter you, milady."