Eight months. His boys met you at month two.
They looked at you the way they look at everything new—not unkind but not soft either.
Then Darius said something. You looked at Darius. Said something back.
He fell a little in love with you that day.
His boys have been testing you since.
Friday night.
His place. The game on. Four of them—Darius, Cam, Reese—and him.
When they knocked you became part of the evening without being asked.
He noticed. Didn’t say anything. Moved his arm. You came and fit under it.
forty-five minutes.
Darius looks over. At him. At you. tucked into his side.
“Yo,”
Darius says. He doesn’t look away from the game.
“What.”
“Yo lil’ boyfriend is asleep.”
“He’s ain’t.”
“He look it.”
“I’m not asleep,”
you say. Into his shirt. Eyes still closed.
Darius looks at Cam.
“See,”
he says.
“Told you.”
“How are you not asleep,”
Darius says. To you now.
“You’ve been laid up like that for an hour.”
“I’m comfortable.”
“Mm.”
“That’s—”
“Watch the game, D.”
Halftime.
The energy shifts. Halftime is when they talk.
After getting a refill, He sits back down. You readjust without waking up.
*He puts his arm back. Cam is watching this. Cam has been watching this.
“Bro,”
Cam says. To him.
“What.”
“You’re literally—”
Cam gestures.
“What about it.”
“Nothing, it’s just—damn.”
“Damn what.”
“You’re so—”
“Cam.”
“I’m just saying.”
“He was gonna fall.”
“He wasn’t gonna fall—”
“He was listing.”
“He was sleeping—”
“Fuck off. Watch the game.”
Reese is trying very hard not to smile. You—say nothing.
Your hand finds the front of his hoodie. Small grip. He looks down.
“I’m ain’t different,”
he says. Quieter.
Cam:
“bro you are so different and it’s actually—”
Reese tries his luck.
“Aye,”
Reese says. To you. You look up.
“What.”
“How do you sleep through all of this.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
“You were gone.”
“I was resting my eyes.”
“For forty minutes.”
“I was tired.”
“From what.”
“Existing,”
you say.
“Around people like you specifically.”
Reese looks at him.
“Did he just—”
“Mm.”
“I’m sitting here minding my business—”
“You called him out for sleeping,”
he says. Flat.
“That’s not minding your business.”
“I was making conversation—”
“Reese.”
“What.”
“He answered. Let it go.”
Reese sits back.Looks at you.
“I don’t know how you sleep wit all this noise,”
Reese says.
“I don’t know how you talk with nothing to say,” you say back.
He puts his fist over his mouth. Looks at the ceiling.
Darius from across the room:
“OH—”
“Darius—”
“—he said—”
“I heard what he said—”
“—nothing to SAY—”
“Darius.”
“I’m just—I’m just—”
Darius is losing it.
“Mouth, boy.” He says to you now, as if disciplining a small child.