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“Yo bro, why’re you all sweaty and naked?”
“Jesus Christ! How’d you get in?!”
The decorative dishtowel that his mom gave him for Christmas was the only thing Jake had to shield his recently shaved crotch from Amir’s much too amused eyes. In the back of his mind Jake noted to call his mom and thank her for the life saving cloth. Maybe even drop hints for a more appropriate styled one next time (maybe an eggshell white to go with the rest of the kitchen).
“Made a new set of keys when you went to lunch, the other ones didn’t fit no mo’.” Amir met Jake’s unamused stare with a blank stare of his own. Of course they didn’t fit anymore, Amir wasn’t a total idiot. The locksmith had been called to the apartment on Monday in a small attempt to stop Amir from bursting into his apartment like he lived there too.
“Why are you here?” Jake chose not to comment on the three identical keys that jingled between his intruders outstretched hand. Another mental note; invest in a hook-chain lock. “Why are you even up? It’s one in the morning.”
“Well, whatta ‘bout you?!”
Jake’s eyes squinted, his lips puckered in a slight frown. It was apparent from the casual grin on Amir’s face that he knew, oh no, the bastard knew. Fine blond hairs on the back of Jake’s neck bristled from more than just the cold metal of the stove pressed against his ass. Getting defensive was his natural mechanism when the tables turned. “What about me?”
“Why are you up, huh?” One finely trimmed eyebrow rose over thick frames, the grin widening into a full-blown smile. “And buck-ass naked too. What’s up with that, yo?” With a jerking to the left Amir half-motioned/half-seizure in the direction of, what was known as, ‘The Place Where Hurwitz Makes the Magic Happen (With His Penis)’.
… Well, maybe Amir only refereed to it as that.
Head still tilted at a 45 degree angle towards the bedroom Amir asked, “You been banging some girlie chicken all night looo~oong?”
“Don’t sing Lionel Richie songs,” it was hard to speak when your teeth clenched against each other with all their force, “and stop dancing!”
Amir’s hips paused in the middle of the shake they were doing. O-ho, the vein on Jake’s temple had begun to throb. A weak point had been secured and hit. Score! “Aha, so I’m right! Boo-yeah! Who is it, Bridgette from accounting? Word around the office is that her legs are permanently open, like, it’s a medical condition or her religion or whateva.”
Glare.
“No, no, no, wait, don’t tell me. I know.” Amir snapped his fingers for dramatic/sarcastic effect. “It’s Sarah. I knew she’d let you get all up in dat.”
Death glare.
“Jeez, don’t grill me bro,” Amir held up his hands as a sign of surrender that Jake’s impervious stare demolished entirely. Pure, unadulterated annoyance was radiating off of his naked BFF and, given that the only clothing he wore was a pale blue dish towel with pigs all over it (baby piglets to be exact), was downright ridiculous. Totes McGoats a photo-op, but Jake would probably smash his new iPhone to pieces if he brought it out.
Instead, Amir opted to tease his friend more, even though he was teetering on Jake’s shit-list. “So, really, who’s the chick you’re biz-anging?”
“Amir.” When Jake’s voice literally growled out his name, Amir knew his work was done here. That awkward shade of red Jake’s upper torso was changing to sealed the deal. Double score. “Leave. Now.”
For a few seconds Amir tried to stare his friend down but quickly gave up with a shrug of his shoulders. “Whatever, broseph. See ya at work tomorrow, you know, if you don’t call in ‘sick,” his fingers made air quotes as he said the word. Spinning of the heel of his sneakers Amir shoved his hands into his pants pockets and began to walk towards the apartment door.
However he paused at the doorframe as if he had forgotten something. The super duper final word, of course. “Bye Pat!”
“Later Amir.” A short pause. “Aw, fuck. How’d he-?”
Amir missed the shocked look on Jake’s face as he closed the door just like Jake missed the devious smirk on his.