Chapter 22 - Say That Then

Trey's apartment was quiet, dimly lit by the streetlights slipping through the blinds. Zay walked in like he'd been there a hundred times before-because he had. Kicked his shoes off, pulled his hoodie over his head, and stretched, his shirt lifting just enough to show the waistband of his Ethikas.

Trey locked the door behind him, watching. "You get too comfortable too quick."

Zay smirked, flopping onto the couch. "Nigga, I been comfortable." He grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels like it was his TV. "What's for dinner?"

Trey sat on the arm of the couch, rubbing his hands together. "You tell me. You the one popped up outta nowhere."

Zay sucked his teeth. "Nigga, you picked me up. Ain't my fault you don't feed company."

Trey shook his head and stood up, heading toward the kitchen. "Ion know how you talk so much."

Zay leaned over the couch to look. "What you got?"

Trey gave him a look. "You askin' too many questions for a nigga that ain't bring no groceries in here."

Zay grinned. "So that mean you cookin'?"

Trey rolled his eyes and pulled out some leftovers. "I got wings from earlier."

Zay perked up. "Bet. Warm 'em up for me."

Trey turned and gave him a look.

Zay smirked. "Please?"

Trey let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he put the wings in the microwave. "Nigga so spoiled."

Zay stretched out on the couch, watching him. "And you make it worse."

Trey ain't respond, but he felt Zay watching him. He knew Zay liked pushing his buttons, just to see what he could get away with. And the worst part? Trey let him.

When the microwave beeped, Trey grabbed the plate and walked back over, standing in front of Zay. "Here."

Zay reached for it, but Trey held it just out of reach. "Say thank you."

Zay squinted. "Nigga, gimme my food."

Trey raised a brow.

Zay sucked his teeth, then softened his voice. "Thank you, daddy."

Trey stared at him for a long moment, then handed over the plate. "You so damn extra."

Zay laughed, grabbing the plate and pulling a wing apart. "And you still doin' what I ask."

Trey sat beside him, stretching his legs out. "Whatever."

Zay glanced over while chewing. "You gon' eat too?"

Trey shook his head. "I ate already."

Zay nodded, then after a beat, he said, "I'm stayin' tonight."

Trey didn't react, just grabbed the remote out of Zay's lap and started flipping through channels. "Ain't like you ever leave."

Zay smirked, leaning into him a little. "Say that then."

---

Zay stretched out on the couch, his plate balanced on his lap as he tore into another wing. Trey sat next to him, one arm draped over the back of the couch, scrolling through his phone like he wasn't really payin' attention. But he was. Trey always noticed shit, even when he acted like he ain't.

Zay finished the last of his food, then leaned over, setting the plate on the coffee table. He sat back, shifting like he was tryna get comfortable-then ended up right up under Trey, his shoulder pressing against Trey's chest like it was just the natural place to be.

Trey ain't say nothin'. Just moved his arm from the couch to Zay's leg, hand resting there like it belonged. Zay ain't acknowledge it either, just let his fingers ghost over Trey's wrist before he picked up the remote again.

"You watchin' this?" Zay asked, nodding toward whatever was playin' on TV.

"Nah."

Zay switched the channel, eyes flicking to Trey's phone. "Who you textin'?"

Trey smirked, locking his screen and setting the phone down. "Nosy ass."

Zay huffed, then turned back to the TV, letting a comfortable silence settle between them. After a few minutes, Trey's fingers started moving, absentmindedly tracing little circles against Zay's knee.

Zay glanced down, then up at Trey. "You touchin' me for?"

Trey ain't even look at him. "Cuz I want to."

Zay pressed his lips together, tryna fight off the smirk. Then, casual as hell, he leaned in, pressed a slow kiss against the corner of Trey's mouth. Ain't say nothin' about it-just did it, then settled back like it was nothin'.

Trey let it happen, then turned his head slightly, catching Zay's jaw with his own quick peck before lookin' back at the TV.

Zay sighed, stretched again, then slumped lower into the couch, damn near layin' on Trey. Trey adjusted, like this was just part of the routine now, hand sliding up to rest against Zay's stomach, thumb brushing absentmindedly over his hoodie.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, Trey's body heat making Zay lazy, Zay's weight against him making Trey stay still.

After a long moment, Zay mumbled, "You off tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

Zay hummed, barely awake now, his fingers twitching against Trey's leg.

Trey watched him for a moment, then dipped his head, pressing another kiss against Zay's temple before settling back.

"Nigga so spoiled," he muttered.

Zay just grinned against his shoulder.