The rest of the car ride was silent besides Mason typing on his computer. The keyboard was more silent than you could imagine though. At least they tried to be. Jean rattled papers and wrappers so that someone would tell him to stop. Possibly spark a conversation. He wanted someone to say something because he felt awkward sitting in the car in silence, no radio playing, no games, no fun, no action, just intensity. His plan failed though. 

They arrived at the location where they would stay for the next few months. Everyone got out of the car and grabbed their bags out of the trunk. The house was small and blue. The porch consisted of 6 steps and two chairs on opposite sides of the door. The door was a peach color. Mason finished grabbing his things and closed the trunk. He then turned towards the house.

“Aw hell naw!” Chaser shouted. “Call Pop Harvey right now! I’m not staying in an old lady looking house!” He continued.

“It’s good for the disguise.” Aaron replied.

Everyone besides Chaser shrugged. They all walked in. For a tiny home it was pretty big on the inside. The counters were marble and the floors were wooden with polish on them. The walls were a pastel blue and the living room and kitchen were combined. There was only a mini-fridge, air-fryer, and two cabinets near the wall with a tiny tv, and two chairs in the middle of the room. To the right was a hallway and down it were four bedrooms.

“Guys, Me and Mason will share a room, Jean and Zen will too, Livvik and Chaser will have their own rooms.” Aaron stated. “Mason, do you mind putting the food in the mini fridge?” Aaron asked.

Mason didn’t answer but he did as he was told. He didn’t have a problem with doing it, it was just their way of communication. The asking was more like telling. At first no one understood the way they communicated but now everyone just ignores the fact.

“Unpack your clothes in a hurry. If anyone comes by Jean and Zen will answer as a gay couple letting their cousin and friend from college live with them. Me and Mason will hide since we’ve already been asked questions. Understood?” Aaron confirmed.

Everyone nodded and went to unpack in their rooms. Zen and Jean walked slower than the restroom Jean couldn’t help but worry about his boyfriend. Livvik rolled his eyes at the sight of the two walking to their room together.

Later that night, unlike the others Jean and Zen couldn’t fall asleep. You could hear the rest of the house snorting like pigs from their rooms.

“Baby,  are you ok?” Jean asked concerningly and worried.

It was the one-hundredth question Jean had asked him.

“I’m not a traumatized baby. I’m just weirded out. What happened was normal, I've just never been stabbed before.” Zen answered for the first time all day.

“Well I'm glad.” Jean replied.

Jean and Zen lay both on their sides with their backs facing the ends of the bed. Both of them curled up. Zen leaned into the middle and pressed his lips against Jean’s. Zen took his hand and stroked the side of Jean's face. They continued embracing each other from a distance until Zen pulled Jean closer to him by the waist. Jean giggled as their lips continued touching. Jean reached his hand out to Zen’s chest and slowly lowered his hand. His hand brushed against his abs that were halfway visible through his shirt. Jean reached his hand to Zen’s pants and relaxed his fingers. Zen closed his eyes embracing the feeling. Jean crawled on top of Zen and pulled his pants down to his knees. He then pulled his boxers down right above his pants. 

Jean then wrapped his lips around Zen’s penis and began deep throating it. Zen could feel the warmth of his mouth all over his penis. He could feel Jean's saliva on it too. Zen moaned, the feeling to him was incredible and relaxing. He enjoyed it and so did Jean.

In the room next to them Livvik wide awake rolled his eyes as he heard the disgusting moans and cries. He took his pillows and wrapped them around his head, covering his ears. 

“Ugh!” Livvik shrieked. 

Livvik grabs a paper and pen out of his bag on the floor and begins writing something on it. He scribbles with emotion. A lot of emotion.