One

CHAPTER ONE

The bell over the salon door gave a soft jingle as Malik stepped in, a gust of late spring air trailing behind him. He ducked slightly through the entrance, not because he needed to, he was tall, but not comically so, but it was a reflex, like the world itself was just a little too small to contain all of him.

“Damn,” Ty muttered under his breath, standing behind the front desk. He quickly shifted his eyes to the screen of his tablet, pretending to be consumed by the schedule, though his gaze kept drifting back to the man who just walked in.

Malik looked like the kind of trouble you didn’t mind ruining your whole week for. Deep brown skin, rich like roasted coffee, and arms covered in ink that peeked out from under his black fitted tee. His hair curled tight and wild on his head, and he had the kind of face that made you feel things, soft eyes that didn’t belong on a man built like that, a mouth with the faintest curve of a smirk even when he wasn’t smiling.

But it wasn’t just him.

It was the tiny girl at his side, clinging to his leg with all five fingers and peeking out with the exact same eyes. Big, round, and kind of wary. She wore a pink bubble jacket over a unicorn tee, hair wild and puffed around her head in a soft halo of coils.

“Hey,” Malik said, voice low and calm. “I had an appointment for my daughter. With Deena. Ten-thirty.”

Ty flicked his gaze to the schedule. “Yeah. Malik, right?”

“That’s me.”

Ty hesitated. “Okay, so… Deena had an emergency this morning. She had to rush out to see her mom, something about a hospital thing, I don’t know the full details. I was just about to call you, but-”

Malik’s expression didn’t change much, but there was a flicker of disappointment that passed through his eyes.

“Damn. Amara been talkin’ about this appointment all week,” he said, reaching down to ruffle his daughter’s hair. “She got it in her head that she gonna look like a princess.”

Ty’s heart did a little stupid flip at that. He glanced down at the girl. She was pouting now, still clutching her dad’s leg.

“I mean…” Ty walked around the counter, smoothing down the apron tied at his waist. “If you’re cool with it, I’m free right now. I can take her.”

Malik raised an eyebrow. “You do girls’ hair too?”

“Yeah,” Ty said with a little smile. “Boys, girls, grown folks, folks in between. I’m a stylist, not a barber.”

Malik chuckled low in his throat. “Aight. You good with braids though? We wanted the small ones. You know, mini braids, straight-backs with beads.”

“I’ve done ‘em on heads smaller than hers,” Ty said, giving a playful wink toward Amara. “What’s your name, princess?”

She peeked out. “Amara.”

Ty knelt down in front of her. “Hi, Amara. I’m Ty. You wanna come sit in my chair so we can make you look like the queen you are?”

She looked up at her dad, then back at Ty. Finally, she gave the smallest nod.

“Cool. Follow me, Your Highness.”

11:00 am

Malik eased down into one of the waiting chairs as Amara was led to a station in the back. He watched closely as Ty helped her into the seat, clipped a cape around her, and began gently detangling her curls with a spray bottle and wide-tooth comb.

He worked carefully, talking to her the whole time, asking her favorite color (purple), her favorite cartoon (Bluey), and whether she wanted the beads to match (she did).

Ty moved with practiced ease. There was nothing rushed in the way he handled her, no tugging or huffing, just calm movements and the kind of patience Malik had rarely seen from stylists, even with adults. He tilted his head slightly, studying the way Ty’s petite frame seemed to fill the whole space with energy. He wasn’t just doing a job. He was doing it with intention.

“She quiet,” Ty said, glancing over at Malik.

“She usually is,” Malik replied. “Takes a minute for her to open up.”

Ty nodded like that made perfect sense. “Same.”

Malik smiled a little at that.

\—

12:00 pm

As the hour slipped by, the soft buzz of hairdryers and low R&B playing overhead made for a soothing atmosphere. Ty worked fast but precise, parting neat, even rows and using a dab of edge control to keep them crisp. He chatted with Amara in a voice just above a whisper, and she started giggling at his jokes.

Malik checked his phone now and then but mostly just watched. Every so often, their eyes would meet in the mirror, Ty’s calm and unreadable, Malik’s curious and slightly amused.

“You always this gentle?” Malik asked at one point.

Ty didn’t look up from the braid he was doing. “Only on Tuesdays.”

“It’s Thursday.”

Ty flashed him a grin in the mirror. “Then I must like y’all.”

Malik chuckled again and leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. “You from around here?”

“Born and raised. North side.”

“I’m out West,” Malik said.

“That explains the Timberlands in May.”

Malik looked down at his boots. “Hey, I ain’t know the weather was gon’ be disrespectful today.”

They both laughed. Even Amara cracked a smile.

\—

1:30 pm

By the time Ty was adding the last of the beads, Amara was chatting like she’d known him forever. She told him all about her favorite toys, the birthday party she went to last weekend, and how her dad made the best pancakes ever, “but he burns the bacon sometimes.”

“I heard that,” Malik called.

Ty held back a laugh. “I believe it.”

He finished the last braid and tied off the bead with a small rubber band, then spun her around to face the mirror.

“Okay, baby girl. Take a look.”

Amara’s eyes widened. She reached up and touched one of the braids gently, letting the beads clink together.

“I look like a princess!” she gasped.

“You look like a queen,” Ty corrected softly.

She beamed, then hopped out of the chair and ran to her father, who scooped her up with ease.

“Let me see, pretty girl.” Malik turned her head from side to side. “Damn. You really did that.”

Ty took off his gloves and tossed them in the bin. “Thanks. And don’t worry about the full price, by the way. Since Deena had to bounce, I’m only charging you half.”

Malik frowned slightly. “You sure?”

Ty nodded. “Yeah. Not your fault your stylist dipped. I was free anyway.”

Malik pulled out his phone to tap into his payment app. “Aight, well I’m still tipping you good. That was clean work.”

Ty smirked. “Thanks. I like to think so.”

Malik handed him his phone to scan the QR code and gave Ty a nod once the payment went through.

“Appreciate you for real,” he said. “Not everybody that cool with kids. Or that good at what they do.”

Ty shrugged, his eyes flicking toward Amara who was still admiring her braids in the mirror. “Kids are easy when you treat ‘em like people.”

Malik’s eyes lingered on him for a second. “You got kids?”

Ty laughed. “Hell no. I barely remember to water my plants.”

That got a low laugh out of Malik. “You funny.”

“You surprised?”

“Nah.” Malik tucked his wallet away and stood, Amara now perched on his hip. “You got a card or something? In case I can’t get Deena again.”

Ty reached over and grabbed one from the station, handing it to him between two fingers. “Anytime.”

Their fingers brushed. Not on purpose. Not quite.

Malik’s eyes held his for just a second too long.

“Alright, well…” Malik said, clearing his throat. “Thanks again, Ty.”

“See you around, Malik. Bye, Amara.”

“Bye, Ty!” she chirped, waving with one hand and holding onto her dad with the other.

Ty stood there for a long moment after the door closed behind them, the little bell jingling again as they left.

Then he sighed, spun his stool around, and muttered to himself: “Whew… he was fyne-fyne”

Two

CHAPTER TWO

“You owe me.”

Ty tossed a comb onto his station and turned to Deena with a pointed look.

She sat cross-legged in the styling chair next to his, sipping her matcha latte like she hadn’t left him high and dry just the day before.

“You’re so dramatic,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I had an actual emergency. My mama passed out in the middle of the grocery store.”

“And she’s fine now. But do you know what wasn’t fine yesterday?” Ty tapped his chest. “My soul. My spirit-”

“Ty…”

“My sanity, Deena! Shattered.”

She groaned. “Okay, okay. What happened? What did I miss?”

Ty leaned in like he had a state secret to tell. “Only the finest man I’ve seen in years walked through that door. Looking like sin in a black tee and Timberlands, the client you missed yesterday”

Deena sat up straighter, her brows lifting. “Wait. The dad that booked for his daughter?”

Ty nodded slowly. “Mmm-hmm.”

“And he was fine-fine?”

“Deena. I almost dropped my comb.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I almost dropped my comb,” Ty repeated, more firmly. “He was tall. Like, damn tall. Deep dark skin. Arms like, like, he definitely bench presses trauma for breakfast.”

Deena snorted into her drink. “Boy.”

“I’m serious! And tattoos, but not OD. Just the right amount. Arms, neck, a little peek above the collar. And his hair? Thick, curly, looked soft enough to run your fingers through after-”

“Okay!” She laughed. “Damn. You tryna make me blush or catch a case?”

Ty grinned and flopped into his own chair. “I’m just sayin’. You really missed a moment.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “You do his daughter’s hair?”

“Yeah, she was real quiet at first. Cute though. Looks just like him. Sweet too, once she warmed up.”

Deena let out a hum. “You always good with the babies.”

“Only when they’re adorable and their daddies look like they belong in a Savage Fenty campaign.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I was sweating. Had to spray myself down with leave-in to look like it was planned.”

Deena burst out laughing.

Ty crossed his legs, resting his elbow on the chair arm. His smile faded a little. “But… he probably straight.”

Deena tilted her head. “Why you say that?”

“He got a kid. Talked like she lived with him, not just weekend daddy vibes. And he didn’t mention no wife, but come on. You see a man like that walk in with a baby girl and no ring? That’s boyfriend energy. Or baby mama drama energy. Either way, not for me.”

Deena gave him a look. “You know that don’t mean he straight, right?”

“I know But it usually means he ain’t checking for me.”

She gave him a gentle side-eye. “Did he flirt with you?”

Ty hesitated.

“He was… nice.”

“Oh please,” Deena said. “Everybody nice to you.”

Ty’s voice lowered a little. “It was more than that. I caught him looking. Not like clocking me, but… you know when somebody got that little smile in their eyes? That ‘I see you’ look?”

Deena leaned forward. “Ooh. Details.”

Ty shook his head. “It was subtle. Might’ve just been wishful thinking. He asked for my card, said he’d come back if you weren’t available.”

“See? That’s interest.”

“Or convenience. He probably liked that I gave him a discount.”

Deena narrowed her eyes. “You think a man like that worried about a few dollars? Nah, baby. He liked the vibe.”

Ty sighed and leaned back again. “I don’t know. I’ve crushed on straight dudes before. Ends the same way every time, with me watching them post their anniversary dinner on IG while I cry into my satin pillowcase.”

Deena reached over and squeezed his hand. “Okay, first of all, you dramatic as hell. Second, that man could be bisexual, single, poly, divorced, hell, maybe he adopted his niece and is raising her on his own. You don’t know his story.”

“I don’t,” Ty admitted. “But I’m not tryna get my hopes up either. He was beautiful. But beautiful people are dangerous.”

Deena tilted her head. “You beautiful too.”

Ty snorted. “Yeah, but I got anxious attachment and a coffee addiction. It’s not the same.”

She laughed again. “You’re so dumb.”

“I’m realistic.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the soft whir of dryers and faint R\&B playing through the speakers. A client walked past toward the shampoo bowl, giving Ty a quick wave.

“Anyway,” he said, smoothing a lock of hair behind his ear. “If he does come back, and he does flirt, and I somehow don’t pass out, then we’ll revisit this conversation.”

Deena raised her brow. “So, you tryna say if he books an appointment with you, you not gonna wear your tightest jeans and a mesh crop top?”

Ty shrugged innocently. “That would be entirely coincidental.”

“Mhm.”

“Just happened to fall into a tank top that day.”

“Right.”

Ty smirked. “Let me live.”

---

Later that afternoon, after Deena had gone back to her station and Ty was tidying up between clients, he paused near his drawer and looked at the business card holder on his mirror.

One missing.

Just one.

He rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip, thinking about the way Malik had looked at him through the mirror. The softness in his voice when he talked to Amara. That moment when their fingers brushed.

It had been nothing.

Ty shook his head and muttered under his breath, “I’m not doing this with myself.”

Still, a tiny part of him deep in the chest, annoying and persistent hoped he’d see that man again.

Soon.

Three

CHAPTER THREE

Ty had been talking about getting a tattoo for years.

He’d pinned every delicate linework design imaginable, saved half his body weight in inspiration photos, and followed every soft-fingered tattoo artist on Instagram within a hundred-mile radius. But when it came time to actually do it? He always chickened out.

Needles, pain, permanence. The whole idea made his stomach do that weird backflip thing.

But this week? He needed a shift. Something bold. Something that said I’m still in control of my life, thank you very much, even if I cry during Pixar movies and overwater my succulents.

So he made the appointment.

A fine-line spine tattoo, delicate script running from the nape of his neck to just above the small of his back. Something quiet but powerful.

He showed up early, because of course he did, and sat stiffly in the front lounge of **blackstone ink ** trying not to sweat through his T-shirt.

The space was cool, industrial but warm. Exposed brick, matte black shelving, plants that looked real and not dying. A soft playlist played, chill and moody and the scent of antiseptic lingered just beneath notes of patchouli and old incense.

He was scrolling through his phone when a door opened in the back.

A familiar voice said, “Ty?”

Ty looked up. His stomach dropped straight into his damn shoes.

Standing in the doorway gloved up, apron on, curls tied back was Malik.

Fuck he looks finer than last week gah damn.

Ty blinked. “Oh… damn. Hi.”

Malik grinned. “Well damn. This a surprise.”

Ty’s voice caught in his throat for a second. “You work here?”

“Yeah. This my shop.”

Ty stared. “Your shop?”

“Mhm,” Malik said, stepping aside to let him pass. “Co-owned, but yeah. Come on back.”

Ty stood slowly, his nerves now joined by something hotter, fizzing under his skin like soda bubbles. He followed Malik down the hallway, past framed tattoo prints and soft lighting, to a private studio in the back. The walls were painted a deep olive green, and a diffuser puffed lavender into the air. Everything felt… intentional. Clean. Calm.

“You getting something small or…?”

Ty cleared his throat. “Script. Down my spine.”

Malik raised a brow. “Oh, so you serious today.”

“Apparently.”

Malik chuckled. “Alright. You already send the design?”

“Yeah, I emailed it a couple days ago.”

Malik pulled it up on the tablet at his station, nodding slowly. “I remember this one. Didn’t know it was you when I accepted it.”

Ty swallowed. “Still wanna do it?”

Malik looked up at him then. Not rushed, not playful. Just… direct. His voice dropped a little. “I’d be honored.”

Ty’s heart skipped.

Malik turned toward the cart. “Go ahead and take your shirt off. Lay face down. Lemme get set up.”

Ty obeyed, hands only slightly shaky as he peeled off his tee and folded it neatly. He caught Malik watching in the mirror for a second longer than necessary before turning back to his station.

“Not gonna lie,” Ty said, settling onto the cushioned bench. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“You say that like I died,” Malik replied, a little smirk in his voice.

“You just… seemed like one of those ‘in and out of the wind’ kinda people. Mysterious and hot.”

Malik let out a laugh as he snapped on fresh gloves. “That’s wild. I thought you were mysterious. And hot.”

Ty froze. Oh shit.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Ty turned his head slightly, cheek against the padded table. “So you were looking.”

“Hard not to.”

There was a pause.

Then Ty whispered, “I thought you were straight.”

Malik started cleaning his tools. “Why?”

“You got a kid.”

“That’s not how sexuality works,” Malik said calmly. “But for the record… I’m bisexual.”

Ty blinked. “Oh.”

“Still wanna get tatted?”

Ty snorted softly. “Absolutely.”

---

2:00pm

The stencil process was quick and professional. Malik was gentle, walking Ty through every step before touching his skin. When he finally started the linework, Ty hissed sharp at first, the pain sharp and hot like fire being drawn beneath his skin but Malik’s voice grounded him.

“You doin good”

“Define ‘good,’” Ty muttered, wincing.

“You ain’t running yet, so I’d say you’re doing better than most.”

Ty gripped the cushion. “You enjoy this?”

Malik smiled. “Making people scream in my chair? A little.”

Ty laughed through the pain. “Sadist.”

“I prefer ‘artist.’”

The room fell quiet again, filled only with the soft buzz of the machine, and Ty’s breath rising and falling as Malik worked.

---

4:25 pm

By the time Malik finished the last of the script, Ty felt lightheaded but warm. He stood carefully, stretching, spine aching in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Malik handed him a mirror and stepped back.

Ty turned to the wall mirror and caught his breath.

It was… beautiful. Fine black script, perfectly aligned, each word crisp and flowing, framed by the curves of his back.

“Damn,” he whispered. “You really did that.”

Malik gave a soft smile. “Told you. I take this seriously.”

Ty met his eyes in the mirror. “I see that now.”

4:50 pm

Aftercare instructions were given. Bandage applied. Payment sent, even though Malik tried to wave the deposit.

As Ty was getting ready to leave, Malik hovered near the doorway.

“You know…” Malik said, voice low. “You don’t gotta wait for your next tattoo to come back.”

Ty looked up, caught off guard. “Oh?”

“You got my number on that client card. Use it.”

Ty’s mouth curved into a slow, thoughtful smile.

“I might.”

“Cool,” Malik said. Then, quieter, “I’d like that.”

Ty lingered a beat too long in the doorway. His back still stung, his heart thudded uncomfortably against his ribs, and his thoughts were already racing faster than he wanted to admit.

This nigga have me feeling sum typa way, ion like dat.

࿇ ══━━━━✥ - ✥━━━━══ ࿇

wondering if I should just publish all the chapters at once 👊🏽

Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Ty noticed the name on his schedule before he even finished his morning coffee.

Client: Malik H.
Service: Men’s Natural Style – Twist Out
Time: 3:00 PM

He blinked at the screen for a long moment, one brow arched. Then refreshed it. Twice.

Still there.

And the note underneath the booking?

’ Need a refresh. You got the magic hands.’

Ty stared at the message like it might bite him.

Was this a normal appointment? Just a man wanting his curls twisted? Or was this… something else?

Deena walked by his station mid-sip of her iced chai. “Why you frowning at your phone like it called you a slur?”

Ty looked up slowly. “Malik booked an appointment.”

“For Amara?”

Ty shook his head. “For himself.”

Deena froze, her drink halfway to her mouth. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Her lips curled. “He definitely flirting.”

“You don’t know that.”

She plopped onto his styling chair dramatically. “Baby, he went from letting you touch his daughter’s scalp to booking a twist out for himself. That man wants to feel your fingers in his hair.”

Ty rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide his smirk. “Girl, he just wants to get his hair done.”

“Right, anything you say”

Ty laughed, but something under his ribs fluttered. A nervous kind of excitement. He checked the time. Three hours until the appointment.

Plenty of time to spiral.

---

By 2:59, he’d lit a candle at his station, adjusted his mirror twice, and reapplied lip gloss just in case.

Malik walked in right on time, tall and calm and so very… him. Hoodie, joggers, sneakers that were way too clean for a man with a five-year-old. His curls were wild today, coiled thick around his temples, a little frizzy at the crown like he’d just shaken them out of a bun.

Ty’s fingers twitched on instinct.

“Hey, stranger,” Malik said, stepping into the station.

Ty turned, smiling. “Booked for your daughter, now you booking for yourself?”

Malik grinned. “Figured it was my turn.”

“You ain’t never had twists before?”

“Never professionally. Just let my cousin mess around when I was younger.”

Ty hummed and gestured toward the chair. “Well, I don’t use Murray’s and prayers. Sit down.”

Malik chuckled and settled in, visibly relaxed. “Been lookin’ forward to this.”

Ty stood behind him, running his hands lightly through the thick mass of curls. “You got good density. These gon’ hold real nice.”

Malik tilted his head just slightly toward the touch.

Ty’s voice softened. “You tender-headed?”

“I can take a little pain.”

Their eyes met in the mirror.

Ty arched a brow. “Noted.”

---

3:08 pm

He started by misting Malik’s hair with a hydrating spray, working in a soft leave-in conditioner and combing through the thick coils gently. Malik didn’t flinch once, just sat calm with his eyes closed, a low breath exhaling through his nose like he was melting into the chair.

Ty tried not to stare.

Tried not to notice how good Malik smelled. Like coconut and cedarwood and something faintly smoky underneath. Tried not to notice the way Malik’s lashes curled just slightly at the ends. Or the way his legs spread comfortably wide under the cape, like he owned the space around him.

Malik cracked one eye open. “You nervous?”

Ty scoffed. “About you? Please.”

Malik smiled. “I think you are.”

Ty tugged a little firmer at a section of curls. “I think you projecting.”

“Maybe.”

Ty rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth tugged up.

“So what made you book this?” he asked.

Malik shrugged. “Wanted to switch it up. And figured I’d trust the only stylist who didn’t burn my daughter’s scalp.”

Ty snorted. “High praise.”

“Plus…” Malik paused. “I liked your vibe.”

Ty stilled for a moment, hands frozen in Malik’s hair.

Then he recovered, smoothing the section with a bit of cream. “You always flirt with your stylists?”

“Only the pretty ones.”

Ty’s eyes narrowed in the mirror. “You tryna get curved in a swivel chair?”

“I’m tryna get my hair twisted.”

Ty sucked his teeth, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “Boy, hush.”

3:50 pm

As the twists began forming, Ty found himself lost in the rhythm. His fingers moved automatically part, twist, smooth, secure. Over and over. The back of Malik’s head leaned gently into his palms, and Ty tried to keep his breathing steady.

“You look comfortable” Ty chuckled, placing a clip at the end of the twist to hold it down.

Malik grinned without opening his eyes. “I’m chillin’. You being gentle.”

Ty hesitated, just for a second. Then said, quieter, “Only cause I like the client.”

Malik opened his eyes slowly, met Ty’s in the mirror.

“You like me?”

Ty’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Don’t get cocky.”

Too late.

4:20 pm

By the time Ty was done, Malik’s curls had transformed into neat, shoulder-length twists that framed his face in thick, glossy ropes. He looked cleaner. Sharper. Even more him somehow.

Ty removed the cape and stepped back. “Alright. You look good.”

Malik turned toward the mirror, nodding in appreciation. “Damn. You snapped.”

“I know.”

Malik ran his fingers along the side of his head, inspecting the parts. “You got me out here lookin’ like I’m about to ruin somebody’s life.”

Ty smirked. “Please don’t ruin mine.”

Malik met his eyes. “Not tryna ruin it. Just… show up in it.”

Ty blinked.

Malik stood, pulling out his phone. “You still got my number?”

Ty nodded.

“Cool,” Malik said. “You should use it. Outside the chair.”

Ty didn’t say anything at first. Then: “You ask all your stylists on dates too?”

“Again,” Malik said, smirking, “only the pretty ones.”

Ty huffed. “You need to go before I say yes.”

Malik leaned down just a little, close enough to smell, close enough to feel.

“Then say yes.”

Ty looked up at him, eyes soft but sure. “Text me. We’ll see.”

Malik grinned, then backed up slowly. “I’ll do that.”

And then he left.

Just like that.

Leaving Ty standing at his station with his hands still tingling, heart still pacing, and a smirk slowly blooming across his face.

This nigga boutta twist my life, I can just feel it.

࿇ ══━━━━✥ - ✥━━━━══ ࿇

Five

CHAPTER FIVE

Malik’s Sundays were sacred.

No buzzing machines. No needles. No stencil paper. No sounds of lo-fi beats echoing off the studio walls.

Just him and Amara. And pancakes.

He stood at the stove, barefoot in sweats, twisting batter into messy circles on the pan while ‘The Princess and the Frog’ played in the background for the hundredth time. Amara sat cross-legged on the couch, hair in a puff, singing every word to “Almost There” like her tiny lungs were built for Broadway.

“Daddy, she sound like grandma when shes mad,” Amara called out over the music.

Malik glanced back, laughing. “Who, Tiana?”

“Yeah. She talk fast like her.”

Malik flipped a pancake and smirked. “That’s ‘cause they got people stressin them”

“Do you have people stressin you?”

He looked at her, then at the stove. Then back at her. “No mam”

Amara grinned, satisfied.

---

After breakfast, he washed dishes while Amara danced around the kitchen with sticky hands. She hummed loudly, hair bouncing with every step. Malik reached out, caught her by the waist, and wiped syrup off her cheek with a damp towel.

“You gon drop lil miss,” he said with a grin.

She giggled and hugged his leg like she was five feet tall instead of three and a half.

This part of his life? Nobody really saw it.

Not at the shop, not at the gym, not even most of his friends. People thought Malik was just tattoos, curls, and confidence. That he always had it together. That fatherhood looked easy on him.

They didn’t see the grocery lists or the early mornings. The lost hair barrettes and laundry piles. The way he’d lie awake some nights wondering if he was doing enough for her, for himself.

Especially with her mom living two states away, barely calling.

It was him and Amara.

And lately, there’d been a name that kept creeping into the edges of that world.

Ty.

He hadn’t expected to be drawn to Ty. Hadn’t even expected to notice him, really, not in that way.

But he had.

From that first appointment with Amara, to that tattoo session, to sitting in Ty’s chair and feeling his hands in his hair like they were speaking without words… Malik couldn’t stop thinking about him.

It wasn’t loud or obsessive. It was quiet. Steady. Curious.

And that was almost more dangerous.

Because quiet feelings were the ones that stuck.

---

Later that evening, after Amara was bathed and curled up on the couch with her blanket and tablet, Malik sat out on the balcony with a mug of ginger tea. The sun was low, painting the sky in gold and lavender. The city buzzed soft and low beneath it.

His phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket.

He pulled it out, thumb swiping lazily. One new message.

**Ty: **
yo

Malik stared at the screen for a second, lips twitching into a smile.

Short. Simple. No punctuation.

He could practically hear it in Ty’s voice casual, but maybe a little nervous. Like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say more, or just let that “yo” hang there like a fishing line.

Malik leaned back in the chair, one arm over the back, and stared at the message.

Then he replied.

**Malik: **
Yo lol what’s up

He locked the phone and slid it into his hoodie pocket again. The night air brushed against his skin, cool and steady. Somewhere behind him, Amara laughed at a cartoon she’d watched a thousand times.

Malik closed his eyes. His phone buzzed again in his pocket.

He pulled it out, thumb already swiping to unlock before he realized he was smiling.

**Ty: **
you free saturday? thinking about getting out the house. somewhere kid friendly, maybe. not too crazy.

Malik blinked at the screen, reading the message again.

He wasn’t expecting that. Not so soon.

He could almost picture Ty typing it, chewing his lip, then deleting and retyping three different versions before sending the most casual version he could muster.

**Malik: **
Saturday works. you wanna do something outdoors or indoors?

**Malik: **
**also you tryna hang with just me or me & lil miss bossy too? **

**Ty: **
**you & lil miss bossy, def. i like her. she got opinions. **

Malik chuckled to himself. “She really do.”

**Ty: **
plus you come as a package deal right?

Malik stared at that one for a moment longer.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he finally typed:

**Malik: **
yeah. always.

Malik:
there’s this place near the lake, lil food truck strip and park with water stuff for kids. chill vibes. music sometimes too.

**Ty: **
wait. that the spot with the shaved ice and the corn dogs?

**Malik: **
Yea

**Ty: **
say less.

Seen

࿇ ══━━━━✥ - ✥━━━━══ ࿇

Six

CHAPTER SIX

Saturday rolled in warm and lazy. A soft breeze moved the trees, and the sky was that perfect kind of blue, no clouds, no haze. Just sunlight.

Ty stood outside the food truck park, sunglasses low on his nose, one hand on his hip, the other clutching an iced drink he didn’t even remember ordering. He spotted Malik before Malik saw him, tall frame cutting through the crowd, Amara holding his hand, bouncing with every step like her little sneakers were made of springs.

Ty smiled.

Malik wore a white tee that hugged his arms a little too well, black shorts hanging low on his hips, and a backwards hat that made him look like he’d stepped straight out of a summer daydream. His twists were still in, neat and soft-looking. Ty’s own work. Something about that made his heart tick funny.

“Y’all clean up nice,” Ty called, lifting his shades.

Malik’s face broke into that grin, the one that didn’t come out often but hit different when it did.

“You got jokes,” Malik said, walking up.

Amara’s eyes lit up. “Ty!”

She let go of Malik’s hand and ran to him, her little arms out like she’d known him forever.

Ty squatted to catch her. “Ayyyye, look who remembered me.”

“You said we was getting corn dogs,” she announced.

“I did. And shaved ice. You tryna eat both or pace yourself?”

She blinked. “Both.”

Ty laughed. “That’s fair.”

Malik shook his head with a smile, hands tucked into his pockets. “Already got you wrapped around her finger.”

Ty stood, brushing grass off his shorts. “She had me the minute she said I was better than Deena.”

“Wow. So you just gon’ betray your coworker like that?”

“She’d understand. Kids don’t lie.”

Malik chuckled low under his breath. “You different.”

Ty sipped his drink and shrugged. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

\---

The park was alive with energy, families, music playing from someone’s speaker, little kids running through sprinklers near the splash pads. The food trucks lined one side, smells of funnel cakes, jerk chicken, and buttered corn wafting through the air. Everything felt golden.

Ty walked beside Malik while Amara ran ahead, her purple backpack bouncing on her back.

They weren’t touching. Weren’t flirting, really. But their steps synced naturally. Ty kept stealing glances from behind his sunglasses. Malik caught one or two and said nothing, but the corners of his mouth twitched every time.

“So,” Ty asked casually, “you come here often?”

Malik side-eyed him. “That a pickup line?”

Ty grinned. “Would you be mad if it was?”

“Nah.” Malik looked forward again. “We come out here maybe once or twice a month. Amara likes to run herself tired.”

“That’s smart parenting.”

“Some of us gotta strategize.”

They stopped near the corn dog truck. Malik ordered one for Amara and one for himself. Ty waved off the food and opted for a mango shaved ice instead. “I got summer in my soul,” he said when Malik raised an eyebrow. “Can’t be eating fried food in the sun.”

“Shaved ice is sugar and water.”

“And joy,” Ty countered.

Malik smirked. “Fair enough.”

They found a shaded picnic table not too far from the splash pad, where Amara could eat and still dart back into the fun zone. She perched on the bench with her corn dog and juice box, already humming some tune from one of her cartoons.

Ty sat across from Malik, knees almost brushing under the table. He scooped a bit of his shaved ice, watching the sunlight melt it into syrup at the edges.

“You good?” Malik asked him, tone casual but watchful.

Ty nodded. “Yeah. This was a good idea.”

Malik leaned back slightly. “Glad you texted me.”

Ty shrugged one shoulder. “Wasn’t tryna sit in my house and talk to my plants all weekend.”

“Oh, you one of those.”

“One of what?”

“Plant people.”

“Yeah. You got a problem with thriving foliage?”

Malik laughed, deep and low in his chest. “Nah. I respect it.”

Ty smiled into his spoon. “They quiet. They grow when you treat ‘em right. That’s enough for me.”

Malik looked at him for a moment, then said, “I feel that.”

They fell quiet for a few beats. The kind of silence that felt like breathing room, not awkwardness. Around them, life buzzed on, kids laughing, water spraying, someone’s dog barking in the distance.

Ty eventually asked, “You always had Amara full-time?”

Malik nodded. “Since she was two. Her mom moved out to Charlotte. Said she needed space.”

“You cool with that?”

“Now? Yeah. Then? Not so much.” He exhaled slowly. “But we manage. I got a good support system. Clients who understand when I gotta move appointments around.”

“Your whole life kind of moves around her, huh?”

Malik looked over at Amara, now chasing bubbles some other kid’s mom was blowing into the air.

“Yeah. Everything else gotta adjust to her.”

Ty nodded. “That’s real.”

There was admiration in his voice, and Malik heard it. Felt it.

“You’d be good with kids,” Malik said after a moment.

Ty raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“I know so. Amara don’t take to people like that. She picky.”

Ty grinned. “She got taste.”

Malik held his gaze across the table, something unspoken humming in the space between them.

Ty leaned back and looked away first, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Don’t gas me.”

“You walked into the fire yourself.”

\---

Later, they strolled through the vendors near the back of the park, tables of handmade soaps, small-batch candles, beaded jewelry. Amara insisted on trying every free sample, and Ty let her pick out a bracelet with purple stones that matched her backpack.

“You spoiling her,” Malik muttered as they walked back toward the car.

“She deserves it.”

“She gon’ be asking for lace fronts and press-ons next.”

Ty laughed. “Let her live.”

By the time they reached the parking lot, Amara was full, sun-tired, and dragging her steps. Malik lifted her easily and settled her against his shoulder, her arms around his neck, legs swinging.

“She’s knocked,” he said quietly.

Ty nodded, looking up at him. “Today was good.”

Malik glanced down at him. “Yeah. It was.”

Ty pulled his keys from his pocket. “Alright, I’m out.”

Malik adjusted Amara’s weight, watching him. “You gonna text me again?”

Ty smiled slowly. “I think I will.”

Malik nodded once. “I’ll be waiting.”

࿇ ══━━━━✥ - ✥━━━━══ ࿇

Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ty was mid-install, gloved fingers working clean and quick as he melted the lace down on a deep wave unit. His client sat relaxed, eyes closed beneath the dryer’s low buzz, Beyoncé’s song playing softly in the background through the shop speakers.

He was focused, parting, spraying, pressing, when he felt the shift in the room.

Deena, who was at the front desk sorting hair orders, perked up. “Oh. Hey, stranger.”

Ty glanced towards the door, and there he was.

Malik.

Fresh white tee. Black joggers. That same gold hoop in his ear. His tattoos peeked out from under his sleeves, and his curls were twisted up, still neat from Ty’s last touch. He had a slow grin that didn’t ask permission before settling on Ty.

Ty blinked. ”…What you doing here?”

Malik lifted a hand. “Just passing through.”

Ty smirked, eyes narrowing playfully. “You passing through the salon with your whole six-foot self?”

Malik chuckled. “Alright. You got me.”

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, voice casual.

“Amara wanted to see you.”

Ty paused for a split second.

Something warm flickered in his chest. Not excitement, not quite, but something close to comfort.

“She said you funny,” Malik added. “Said youre pretty and you let her have juice and shaved ice.”

Ty laughed, going back to spraying holding spray across the lace. “So I’m just a walking snack plug now?”

Malik shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Ty looked up, eyes locking with his in the mirror. “You could’ve texted.”

“I could’ve,” Malik said, slow and even. “But I was in the area.”

“Convenient.”

“Maybe.”

Ty rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, just a little.

“You can come back here,” he said. “I’m almost done.”

Malik didn’t hesitate. He walked back past Deena, who was already giving him a smirk like mmhmm, okay, and pulled up a vacant stool near Ty’s chair.

Ty sprayed the lace one last time and pressed the hot comb along the hairline with practiced ease, all while Malik watched.

“You ever seen a wig install up close before?” Ty asked, not looking over.

“Nope. Kinda wild how real that looks.”

Ty grinned. “That’s ‘cause I’m good at what I do.”

Malik hummed. “Ain’t lying.”

Ty’s client peeked up and clocked Malik in the mirror. “Who your fine friend?”

Malik lifted his brows slightly, but didn’t speak.

Ty snorted. “He got a kid and don’t smile for strangers. Don’t even waste your time, baby.”

The client laughed and laid back again. “Damn. All the good ones taken.”

When Ty finally finished, he tied down the edges with a satin wrap and spun the chair slightly to let the client see. She squealed, happy, and he smiled, satisfied, before waving her to the dryer for a quick set.

And just like that, it was just him and Malik in the back again.

They both let the silence sit for a moment.

“Seriously though,” Malik said, his tone quieter now, “she keeps bringing you up.”

Ty looked over. “She does?”

“Yeah. Said you remind her of her favorite cousin. The one that makes her laugh and lets her do whatever she pleases.”

Ty looked down, then back up. “She’s sweet. Smart too. You’re raising her right.”

Malik’s face softened. “Tryin’.”

There was another quiet moment between them, thick with something that wasn’t just about a five-year-old.

Ty tapped the station table lightly. “You sticking around or gotta run?”

“I got time.”

Ty raised a brow. “You saying that or you making time?”

Malik met his eyes. “What you think?”

Ty didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he grabbed a comb and started prepping his next unit. His lips twitched into a small smile as he turned slightly away.

“I think you full of excuses,” he murmured. “But I ain’t mad at ‘em.”

Malik leaned back on the stool, watching him again.

“Let me know next time you free,” he said. “We’ll come by again.”

Ty kept combing. “You sure it’s we that wanna come by?”

Malik just smiled.

Didn’t confirm.
Didn’t deny.
Just sat there, quiet and present.

The way he always did.

࿇ ══━━━━✥ - ✥━━━━══ ࿇

Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT.

It was one of those rare afternoons where everything felt easy.

The sun was tucked behind high clouds, and the breeze carried the scent of spring grass, earth, and some distant smell of barbecue from somebody’s food truck. Malik held Amara’s hand as they strolled through their neighborhood park, taking their time, no real destination in mind.

She had her favorite hoodie tied around her waist, curls bouncing, and a half-eaten push pop in her free hand.

Malik had his usual calm on, headphones draped around his neck, his phone forgotten in his pocket, and a steady pace to his step. They stopped every few minutes: to toss pebbles in a creek, to say hi to a golden retriever, to let Amara spin in slow circles on the path like a dancer in a music box.

“Are we going to see Ty again soon?” she asked suddenly, her voice as light as the breeze.

Malik looked down at her. “You miss him already?”

She shrugged. “He got sparkles in his hair and smells like candy. He’s fun.”

Malik smirked. “That your whole criteria for liking somebody?”

Amara blinked up at him. “I just like him.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

Malik was just about to respond when he heard it, a voice behind them.

“Now I know I didn’t just catch y’all out here and not get an invite.”

He turned amd saw Ty, casual and bright-eyed, hair in a loose puff, oversized crewneck on, sleeves pushed up, bike resting under one hand as he slowed to a stop near the trail.

He wasn’t glammed up. No gloss, no big energy but still looked like he’d walked out of a filtered dream.

Malik blinked, surprised. “You following us?”

Ty raised a brow. “Boy, please. I live like four blocks from here. This my route.”

Amara lit up. “Ty!”

She dropped her dad’s hand and ran toward him like she’d been waiting on that moment all day.

Ty let the bike lean against a tree and crouched to meet her halfway. “What’s good, Amara? You look like you been terrorizing squirrels all afternoon.”

“I got ice cream,” she told him, holding up the push pop like a trophy. “Wanna lick?”

Ty leaned back. “I’m honored, baby, but you can keep that.”

Malik chuckled behind them. “She don’t offer nobody that push pop. You must be special.”

Ty stood, brushing off his knees. “Don’t make me blush.”

He looked over at Malik then, and something passed between them, just a second of quiet warmth.

“You walking or biking?” Malik asked.

Ty shrugged. “Started walking. Ended up riding. Just felt like getting out the house. You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Malik said. “I know exactly how it is.”

Ty gave a little smile, then looked down at Amara, who was already looping her arm through his like they’d made plans without telling anybody.

“You tryna finish this walk with us?” Malik asked, watching him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I got time.”

\---

They walked slow.

Ty pushed his bike along beside them, one hand resting on the handlebar, the other swinging loose. Amara bounced between them, pointing out ducks and picking up acorns like they were treasure. Every so often, she’d ask Malik a random question, “Why do birds poop while flying?” then turn to Ty and say something like, “Your shoes look fast.”

Ty would laugh, and Malik would just watch the way Ty always knew what to say, how he crouched to her level without making her feel small, the way his voice always held a smile even when his mouth didn’t.

“You always this good with kids?” Malik asked once Amara ran ahead to climb the rail near the pond.

Ty shrugged. “Not all of ‘em. Just the cool ones.”

Malik gave him a look. “So just her, basically.”

“Exactly.”

They stopped near the edge of the water. The ducks drifted in lazy circles, and Amara crouched nearby, pretending to feed them with imaginary crumbs.

Ty leaned against his bike, eyes on the pond. “You always come here?”

“Sometimes,” Malik said. “When the weather’s right. Helps clear my head.”

Ty nodded. “Same.”

They stood there in a silence that wasn’t awkward just still. Like they were both aware of the space between them, but not in a hurry to fill it.

Ty glanced over. “You good?”

Malik’s eyes slid toward him. “Hmm, just chillin’”

\---

They walked a little more. Not far. Just enough.

When they reached the edge of the trail, Ty stopped. “I’mma head back this way,” he said, tapping his bike. “Let y’all finish your loop.”

“You sure?” Malik asked.

“Yeah.” He looked down at Amara. “Text me when you want your rematch at shaved ice.”

She nodded solemnly. “You’re going down.”

Ty gave her a fist bump and looked back up at Malik.

“No rush,” he said. “But you can drop by whenever.”

Malik met his eyes. “I might.”

Ty smiled. “Cool.”

He pushed off, smooth and easy, bike tires whispering on the pavement.

Malik watched him go, the wind blowing his curls, his figure disappearing just slow enough to make you keep watching.

Amara tugged at his hand. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“I like him.”

Malik looked down at her.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Me too.”

࿇ ══━━━━✥ - ✥━━━━══ ࿇

Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Ty was washing bundles in the back room, music low in his AirPods and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The scent of conditioner and warm water filled the space as he worked the suds through a deep wave unit, careful not to tangle the pattern.

Deena poked her head in, brow lifted. “You drowning in there or you tryna turn that wig into a baptism?”

Ty grinned, pulling one bud out. “You need somethin’?”

“Just wondering why you been humming the same Bryson Tiller hook for the last fifteen minutes like somebody’s son got you in your feelings.”

Ty rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Don’t do that.”

Deena stepped in fully, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “I will do that. Especially when you come in here smelling like lavender and walking around like your thoughts somewhere else.”

He rinsed the unit and squeezed out the excess water, setting it aside before sighing. “Okay. Maybe I’m thinking about someone.”

Deena blinked slowly. “Boy, if you don’t just say Malik out loud like the rest of us been waiting on you to.”

Ty gave her a look but didn’t deny it.

Instead, he leaned on the edge of the sink, towel draped over his shoulder, voice low. “I think… I might be catching feelings.”

Deena’s eyes softened. “You think?”

“I mean—” He hesitated. “It ain’t loud yet. But it’s there. Like something’s building.”

She didn’t tease him. Not this time. Just nodded slowly, letting him get it out.

“I see him and Amara, and it’s like… I don’t know. It’s not just about him being fine anymore. It’s the way he is. How he moves. How he shows up.”

Ty looked down at the sink, then back up. “It’s like he’s already the kind of man I told myself I’d never really find.”

Deena tilted her head. “So what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know if he sees me like that.”

She waited. Then asked, gently, “You sure that’s it?”

Ty looked away.

“I don’t wanna get ahead of myself. I don’t want to mess this up before it even becomes anything. And part of me… part of me thinks I don’t even know how to be loved like that.”

Deena stepped closer, voice low. “Ty. Listen.”

He looked up.

“You do know how. You’ve just never had the space to do it safely. That’s not the same thing.”

He blinked. Took that in.

“Stop assuming the worst,” she said. “You ain’t even asked him what this is. You just assuming it can’t be anything ‘cause you’re scared of getting hurt.”

Ty exhaled. “So what do I do?”

Deena smiled, warm but serious. “You stay you. Don’t rush. Don’t shrink. But stop acting like you don’t deserve somebody showing up for you just ‘cause they ain’t trying to smash by day two.”

He laughed, soft and tired. “You dragging me real politely.”

“Because I love you.”

Ty smiled, the tension easing from his shoulders.

Deena added, “And because Malik look like he might already be halfway gone for you and just tryna be respectful.”

That made Ty freeze a little. “You think?”

“I know. Men don’t just be showing up at salons when they ain’t got no appointment, bringing up their daughter as cover stories. Come on.”

Ty shook his head, laughing again. “You a mess.”

Deena reached over and pulled him into a quick hug. “I just want you to be happy. And maybe, just maybe, this ain’t something to be afraid of. Maybe it’s just something… waiting to unfold.”

Ty nodded into her shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe.”

\---

Later that night, after the shop had closed and the city had settled into its evening hush, Ty sat in bed, thumb hovering over his phone.

He opened his messages with Malik.

Typed something. Paused. Deleted.

Then typed again:

Ty:
**You ever just know somebody different? like in a good way? **

Ty stared at the message after hitting send, heart thudding a little louder than he’d like to admit.

It wasn’t even that deep of a text.

He set his phone down beside him on the bed, leaned back against his pillows, and tried not to overthink it.

It buzzed not even a full minute later.

Malik:
Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.

Ty read it twice. His lips curled, barely, just enough to crease his cheek. He went to type a reply, but before he could amother message dropped in.

Malik:
**Been feeling that way since the first day we talked, if I’m being real. **

Ty’s fingers paused over the screen.

That small ache in his chest that tender question mark he’d been carrying around started to ease, just a little.

Ty:
Good. ‘Cause I was starting to think I was imagining it.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Malik:
You wasn’t.

Ty exhaled, leaned back, and let the phone rest against his chest. It was quiet in his room.
But he didn’t feel alone.

Not tonight.

࿇ ══━━━━✥ - ✥━━━━══ ࿇

**Btw this is a short story ** 🧍🏾‍♀️

Ten

CHAPTER TEN

The rain had just started. Light and rhythmic. Malik sat on the floor of his living room, legs stretched out, back against the couch. His laptop sat closed on the coffee table the sketches he’d been working on abandoned for the night.

The TV glowed with the low volume of an old Disney movie, but neither he nor Amara were really watching it.

She was sitting in his lap, knees pulled to her chest, wrapped up in one of his old hoodies that hung off her like a blanket. Her curls were half-done, he’d gotten through one side before she’d asked for a break. Now she was tucked against him, thumb in her mouth, eyes barely open.

“You tired?” Malik asked quietly, brushing his fingers along her scalp.

She shook her head slowly, the kind of denial only little kids give when they’re fighting sleep just to stay close.

“You wanna finish your hair in the morning?”

She nodded.

He kissed the crown of her head. “Cool. We’ll rock a half-fro half-twist tonight. Ain’t nobody gonna check you in your dreams.”

Amara giggled sleepily.

They sat there like that for a while. The soft patter of rain. The faint hum of the movie. Malik’s steady heartbeat under her cheek.
Then, out of nowhere, her little voice broke the quiet.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Is Ty your friend?”

Malik blinked. The question came simple, but the weight of it hit deeper than expected.

“I guess so,” he said carefully. “Yeah.”

She shifted. “I like him.”

“I know you do.”

“He’s nice. He talks to me like I’m big.”

Malik smiled. “That’s ‘cause you are big.”

She grinned, revealing the tiniest missing spot where her front tooth had come out last week. “He lets me pick music. And he smells like candy.”

Malik laughed. “He do be wearin’ somethin’ sweet.”

“And he did my hair better than Miss Deena.”

“Oop.” Malik raised his eyebrows. “We not gon’ tell her that.”

She giggled again. “Okay.”

A moment passed.

“Can he come over?”

Malik tilted his head. “Over where?”

“Here. Our house.”

Malik blinked again.

The image came too easily Ty on this couch, legs curled up under him, teasing Malik about the old curtains or the lack of throw pillows. Ty in his kitchen, barefoot, making smart comments about the spice rack. Ty laughing with Amara, braiding doll hair at the dining room table. Ty existing in the space that had, for years, been just father and daughter.
Something about the idea made Malik’s chest tighten.

Not in fear.
But in want.

“I dunno,” he said softly

“Why not?”

He didn’t have a good answer. Not one he could explain to a five-year-old.

So he just said, “Maybe one day.”

Amara nodded, content with that. She leaned back against him, her eyes drooping again.

“Okay. But if he comes, can we make pancakes?”

Malik smiled. “You tryna bribe him with breakfast?”

“No. I just like pancakes.”

He chuckled. “Alright. Pancakes.”

She closed her eyes fully now, her thumb slipping from her mouth as sleep finally started to win. Malik adjusted her gently in his lap, careful not to wake her.

But her words lingered.
Is Ty your friend?
He hadn’t even realized how much he wanted the answer to be more.

Not just for Amara.
But for himself.

Ty’s face came back to him, that sharp little smirk, those eyes that always saw more than they said. The way he moved through space with confidence.

Malik wasn’t the type to rush.
But he also wasn’t the type to ignore the truth when it settled into him this clearly.

He wanted Ty around.
Not just in passing.

Not just through his daughter’s laughter.
But here.
In his real life.
In the spaces that mattered.

Malik looked down at Amara, breathing soft and slow, peaceful in a way only little kids could be.

He kissed her forehead and whispered, “We’ll see, baby girl.”

But inside, something had already started shifting.

Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Saturday morning hit with that golden kind of warmth, sun slipping through clouds.

Ty was already at the salon when Malik walked in with Amara, who skipped ahead of him in her pink glitter Crocs and cartoon hoodie, beads and barrettes clacking from the ends of her loose braids. She looked up at Ty like she’d been counting the days.

“I want zig-zags and beads,” she announced like it was a done deal.

Ty leaned over the counter, grinning. “Oh, you came with a full style request today, huh?”

Malik chuckled, trailing behind with a juice box in one hand and her mini backpack slung over his shoulder. “She been showing me Pinterest boards all week.”

Ty squinted playfully. “Not you raising a hair diva.”

“She gets it honest.”

Ty motioned them toward his chair. “C’mon, superstar. Let’s get you right.”

\---

He got to work detangling Amara’s hair with the kind of care that made Malik quietly grateful all over again. Ty was gentle but firm, moving like he knew exactly what he was doing like he enjoyed doing it.

Malik sat off to the side, phone in hand, but barely looked at it.

Ty started feeding in the braiding hair. The cornrows came together neat and clean, perfect sleek designed cornrows, neat beads waiting to be threaded at the ends.

Amara sat still as a statue, proud.

“You better take a picture when I’m done,” she said, eyes wide.

Ty laughed. “Girl, I’m about to build you a whole lookbook.”

Malik leaned back in his chair. “You ever think about doing anything else? Like branching out? You too good to be just in one shop.”

Ty paused for a second.

“I used to think about opening my own place,” he said. “Or maybe teaching one day. But I love this part, the chair. The people. The vibe.”

He paused again. “It’s more than hair.”

Malik nodded like he got it.

Because he did.

They were quiet for a few beats while Ty finished up the last braid.

Then, casually, Ty added, “Been thinking about getting another tattoo though.”

Malik looked up from his lap. “Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Something small, but detailed. On my thigh.”

Malik’s eyes lingered a second longer than Ty expected.

Ty met his gaze in the mirror. “That a problem?”

Malik smirked, slow. “Nah. Just… unexpected.”

Ty cocked his head. “Why?”

“Most people don’t pick the thigh unless they tryna show it off.”

Ty didn’t blink. “Maybe I am.”

Malik huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You dangerous.”

“Or maybe you just soft,” Ty teased.

Malik raised both brows, clearly amused. “You wanna book with me or somebody else?”

“Would you be able to focus if I did?” Ty asked, half-smiling, not missing a beat.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was charged. Like something else could’ve been said, but both decided not to for now.

Ty turned back to Amara. “Alright, little miss, let’s get you hot watered up.”

\---

When he was done, Amara looked like a walking mood board clear and purple beads clicking with every shake of her head, baby hairs swirled into perfect loops.

She stood in the mirror, beaming. “I look fancy.”

“You look fly” Ty said. “Top-tier.”

Malik came over, smiling down at her. “You love it?”

“Yes. Can we take a picture with Ty?”

Ty blinked. “With me?”

She nodded. “Duh.”

So Malik pulled out his phone. Ty crouched beside her, throwing up a peace sign while she grinned, chin tilted up like a mini model.

Then Malik said, “One more.”

This time, Ty didn’t pose.

Just looked up at the camera while Amara leaned into his side.

Malik lowered the phone when he was done, checking the photos. His eyes flicked toward Ty for half a second too long.

“I’ll send these to you,” he said.

Ty nodded, smoothing his hands over his apron. “Cool.”

\---

They walked toward the door a few minutes later, appointment wrapped up, sun still warm outside.

Amara turned before leaving. “Don’t forget to text me back next time, okay?”

Ty laughed. “My bad, superstar. I’ll be on it.”

She skipped ahead to the car, leaving the two of them standing at the door.

Malik looked back once. “You serious about that tattoo?”

Ty leaned against the doorframe. “Why? You tryna squeeze me in?”

“I could.”

Ty smiled. “Might let you.”

Malik met his gaze, steady and low. “I’d be careful.”

Ty tilted his head. “Of the needle?”

Malik shook his head slowly. “Nah. Of me.”

Ty let that sit. His smile didn’t fade.

“I’ll risk it.”

Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

A whole week had passed, but Ty hadn’t stopped thinking about the way Malik said it.

” I’d be careful.”

And now here Ty was, walking into the back of blackstone ink in denim pants and an oversized shirt on, skin moisturized, thigh prepped for whatever was about to happen.

He pushed the door open to the private booth, and there he was, Malik, black tee hugging his chest, curls tied back, gloves already on, eyes lifting slow like he’d known Ty was coming before the door opened.

“Right on time,” Malik said, lips twitching at the corner.

Ty smirked, closing the door behind him. “You doubted me?”

“Nah,” Malik said, voice low. “But I been ready.”

Ty’s brow lifted. “That so?”

Malik nodded toward the chair. “Sit. Let’s get you set up.”

\---

Ty eased into the padded chair, lifting his shirt just enough to give Malik a full view of his upper thigh. The skin there was untouched smooth, soft brown, like it hadn’t been claimed by ink yet.

Malik crouched beside him, wiping the area down with slow, practiced hands. The gloves were cool against his skin, but Malik’s fingers moved slowly, precise and steady.

Ty turned his attention to the wall, exhaling like it was nothing. “Let me know when you’re gonna start.”

“I’ll let your body tell you,” Malik said, straightening up with the tattoo machine in hand.

Ty choked out a quiet laugh. “That’s the most poetic way I’ve ever heard ‘This is about to sting.’”

Malik’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t respond. Just pressed the stencil gently to Ty’s thigh, then pulled away to examine it his eyes slow, intense, the silence between them filling up with something thick and heavy.

“Looks good,” Malik said.

Ty glanced down. “You sure you can focus?”

Malik met his eyes, unwavering. “You want me to lie?”

Ty blinked once. Then smiled.

And then the buzzing started.

\---

The first pass of the needle hit sharp, a quick, hot drag across sensitive skin but Ty barely flinched. He was used to pain. This kind, at least.

But what he wasn’t used to… was Malik.

The way his left hand rested gently on Ty’s thigh, keeping it steady while the right moved with focused pressure. The way he worked in silence, brows slightly drawn, lip caught between his teeth.

The way every now and then, he’d glance up not to check on the tattoo, but to look at Ty.

And Ty saw it every time, and he didn’t look away.

\---

Halfway through, Malik leaned back to switch needles.

“You good?” he asked, eyes on Ty’s face.

Ty nodded, throat a little dry. “Fine.”

“You’re taking it like a pro.”

“I’m not new to pain.”

Malik looked at him a little longer than necessary. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

Ty’s heart thudded, unexpected.

He blinked. “You be saying stuff that sound like it’s about more than tattoos.”

“Maybe it is,” Malik said, just barely above a whisper.

Then he went back to work.

\---

Another twenty minutes passed. Ty’s leg was sore, but he wasn’t thinking about the pain.

He was thinking about Malik’s hand, the weight of it against his thigh. The warmth of his body crouched close. The quiet tension in the room, like both of them were trying not to cross something.

When Malik finally sat back and turned the machine off, the sudden silence rang in Ty’s ears.

“It’s done,” Malik said.

Ty exhaled, blinking himself out of whatever haze he’d slipped into. “Already?”

Malik gave a small smile. “Time moves different when you’re being touched like this.”

Ty stared at him.

And Malik… stared right back.

\---

He wiped down the area carefully, then applied ointment and covered it with plastic. His hands lingered just slightly as if, even he didn’t want to pull away too fast.

“You’ll need to keep it clean,” Malik said. “No tight clothes. Light moisturizer. And try not to—”

“Sleep on it. I know.” Ty’s voice was quieter now.

Malik looked up. “Right.”

They both stood, closer than they’d been all day.

And still… didn’t move away.

Ty’s eyes dropped to Malik’s mouth for half a second.

Then back up.

“Thanks,” he said. “It looks good.”

Malik’s voice was low. “So do you.”

Ty’s breath caught.

And for a second, just one short, breathless second, he thought Malik might actually lean in.

But instead, Malik stepped back. Gave him space.

“I’ll text you about your touch-up in a few weeks,” he said, his voice back to steady business.

Ty nodded, lips parting to say something, but no words came out.

So instead, he grabbed his hoodie, tossed it over his shoulder, and gave one last look before opening the door.

“You gon’ keep saying stuff like that huh?”

Malik just looked at him.

“Maybe” he said then turned back toward his station.

Ty walked out the shop feeling ten pounds lighter and twice as confused.

Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ty had just gotten out the shower, hoodie tugged over his damp curls, when his phone buzzed.

He was halfway through moisturizing the fresh tattoo on his thigh, the warm sting still lingering when he saw the name light up his screen.

Malik:
You free Friday night?

Ty blinked, a little smile twitching at the corner of his lips. That was… out of nowhere. But not unwelcome.

Ty:
Depends. What’s up?

Malik:
Tired of beating around the bush.
Let me take you out.
No Amara. Just us. Just food.
A real date.

Ty’s stomach did something stupid.
Not butterflies more like a rush of heat in his chest.

Let me take you out.

He reread it again, biting his cheek.

Ty sat down on the edge of the bed, hoodie sleeves shoved up, hair curling around his face.

He didn’t realize he was smiling until his cheek twitched.

He typed back.

Ty:
… you asking me on a date date?

Malik:
i didnt stutter. Yea am asking you on a date.

Ty laughed softly to himself, fingers already tapping again.

Ty:
A ight.
Where we going?

Malik:
Something chill. No pressure. Good food, good drinks.
And you dressed how you wanna be seen.

Ty raised a brow.

Ty:
So I can wear what I want?

Malik:
Wear whatever makes you feel like you.
I want that **** version.

Ty:
Aight. Pick me up at 7.
And don’t be late. I look too good to wait.

Malik replied one last time.

Malik:
B et.
I’ve been waiting. Just didn’t know how to say it out loud until now.

Ty locked his phone and leaned back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing.

He wasn’t used to things like this feeling easy.
Like what they were building now, something slow, steady, and real.

he wanted to find out what it could become.

And Friday?
Felt like the beginning of that answer.

This damn man is doing something to my heart.

Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ty was at deena’s apartment getting ready. He was beyond nervous, leg bouncing, cheek biting, Deena had to pinch him to get him to stop.

“Boy will you stop with that nervous shit”

“I’m not nervous.” He lied.

“You convincing me or yourself?” Deena shook her head, putting moose on her hands to rub into Ty’s curls.

Ty sighed.

Once the curls were shaped just right, Deena grabbed a small tube of clear brow gel and brushed his arches up for a clean, lifted look. She added a tiny bit of warmth under his eyes, a touch of balm to his lips, and leaned back to admire him.

“You giving,” she said.

Ty tilted his head. “What am I giving?”

Deena smirked. “Soft power. With a side of you lucky I like you.”

He snorted. “Good. That’s the energy I want.”

Then he got up and stepped behind the changing screen.

\---

When he came back out, Deena gasped. “Oh damn”

Ty did a little twirl, smooth and unbothered, even though his stomach was all knots and static.

He wore soft black trousers that hugged his waist and draped loose at the ankles. A silky mesh long-sleeve tucked into them slightly see-through, but not loud and under it, a ribbed tank in the same shade. The shirt’s collar flared wide at the neck, framing his collarbones.

His jewelry was gold. Subtle. A thin chain around his neck, tiny hoops in his ears. Rings on two fingers. His nails were filed square and glossy.

He looked like himself.
But elevated.
Soft. Masculine. Beautiful.

“You look like heartbreak,” Deena said, low.

Ty grinned. “Let’s hope I don’t get my heart broken.”

She stood behind him, both of them facing the mirror now. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders.

“He’d be a fool,” she said. “And that man don’t move like a fool.”

Ty nodded once, swallowing down the nerves.

“You sure I’m not doing too much?” he asked quietly.

Deena squeezed his shoulder. “You’re doing you. That’s more than enough.”

He met her eyes in the mirror.

And exhaled.

Malik:
I’m outside. Take your time though.

Ty smiled.

Butterflies? Yeah. But for once, they didn’t come with dread.

He smoothed his hands over his shirt, glanced once more at himself in the reflection of the mirror, and whispered,

“Let’s do this.”

\---

Malik’s POV

Malik sat in the front seat of his matte black SUV, one arm hanging out the open window. He’d parked a few houses down from Deena’s spot, a little early didn’t want to crowd the moment.

He’d been calm all day. Mostly.

But now? He tapped the steering wheel, slow. His heart had picked up. Not wild. Just… present. Like it knew something was about to change.

He checked the mirror again. Wiped his hands down his jeans.

And then he saw Ty step outside.

Malik’s breath stilled.

Ty was glowing not from makeup, not from light, but from the kind of confidence that came when you were fully, unapologetically yourself.

The clothes were simple but sharp. Black. Flowing. Soft fabrics that hugged his shape but didn’t attract attention. His curls were clean and shaped just right, jewelry catching the light. Shoulders back. Chin up.

And Malik felt it in his chest that pull.

This wasn’t just attraction. It was genuine feelings.

Ty looked around once, spotted the SUV, and headed toward it. Malik got out to open the door for him.

“Okay,” Ty said, smirking as he approached. “Fyne gentleman”

Malik gave him a once-over, head to toe, slow and shameless. “You came out here tryna mess with my head.”

“I came out here looking like me.” Ty smirked. “The rest is your problem.”

Malik’s mouth curved. “Then I got a real good problem.”

Ty ducked his head to hide the smile creeping across his face as he slid into the passenger seat.

Malik closed the door, circled back to the driver’s side, and slid in. The air inside the car felt heavier now not uncomfortable, just quiet.

\---

They ended up at a quiet, Black-owned spot tucked into a side street part lounge, part restaurant, with low lighting, and music that played between soul and slow R&B.

Malik had called ahead. The host led them to a table toward the back, semi-private, lit by a low golden lamp.

Ty sat first, crossing his legs smoothly. Malik sat across from him, elbows on the table, hands folded.

Neither of them spoke right away.

Ty broke the silence first. “You nervous?”

Malik tilted his head, voice calm. “I’m aware.”

Ty raised a brow. “Aware of what?”

“Everything. You. Me. This.” He gestured between them. “But nah. Not nervous. Just trying not to rush what feels like it’s supposed to take its time.”

Ty’s lips parted a little, eyes lingering on Malik’s hands, the ones that had touched his thigh just a week ago.

“I like that,” Ty murmured.

“Good,” Malik said. “Cause I meant it.”

\---

The waitress came. They ordered drinks a cocktail for Ty, something ginger-based for Malik then settled in over appetizers: fried plantains, jerk lamb lollipops, and corn fritters with spicy honey.

They talked between bites.

Nothing too deep just favorite meals, childhood foods, stories about picky clients and tattoo fails.

Malik listened, eyes never leaving Ty’s face.

God, hes beautiful.

At one point, Ty leaned forward, fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass.

“You always been this… gentle?” he asked.

Malik shrugged one shoulder. “I grew up around a lot of noise. Learned quick that softness lasts longer.”

Ty studied him. “So you picked peace.”

Malik met his eyes. “Didn’t always get to choose it. But yeah. I protect it now.”

Ty didn’t say anything for a moment.

Just nodded. Then looked down, cheeks slightly pink.

“I like that about you,” he said, barely audible.

Malik’s voice dropped. “You don’t even know all the things to like yet.”

Ty looked up, startled. Then smirked. “That so?”

“Yeah.”

“What else is there?”

Malik leaned in, not touching just closer. Voice low, deep, soft.

“Guess that depends how many more dinners you make me take you to.”

\---

After dinner, Malik walked him to the car, slow and quiet. The air outside was cooler now, night still young.

They stood beside the SUV, keys in Malik’s hand, neither quite moving to open the door yet.

Ty rocked slightly on his heels, looking up at Malik.

“This was good,” he said softly.

Malik nodded. “Yeah. It was.”

They held the silence a little longer.

Ty’s voice came quieter. “And I’m glad it was just us.”

Malik stepped a little closer. Not too close. Just enough.

“I needed it to be,” he said. “I wanted to see you… without distractions. Without guessing.”

Ty looked up at him, lips parting like he might say something, then just smiled instead.

Malik unlocked the door, then circled to the driver’s side. Once inside, Ty buckled his seatbelt but didn’t speak.

Not until they were halfway to his apartment.

“Can I see you again?”

Malik didn’t even look over. Just nodded once, firm.

“You will.”

Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ty didn’t have any clients booked for the afternoon.

Deena was out doing a wedding party’s updos on location, and the shop was unusually quiet for a Thursday. The hum of the blow dryer from the next suite was background noise, and Ty sat on the couch in the waiting area, phone in hand, chewing the edge of his straw.

He stared at his open messages with Malik for a moment before typing.

Ty
You busy?

Malik
A lil bit. What’s up?

Ty
I got the afternoon free.
Want me to pick up Amara from school?
I can keep her company at the shop till you done.

Ty waited, heartbeat a little too fast for something that should’ve been simple.

Malik
You serious?

Ty smiled, thumb brushing over the edge of his phone.

Ty
I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.
I like her. She cool peoples.

Another pause.

Malik
Aight. I’ll call the school.
You’ll need your ID to sign her out.
You sure, though?

Ty
Yes im sure bwoyyy

Malik
😂 **** I’ll text you the details. Thank you. Fr.

Ty’s smile lingered long after the messages ended.

\---

“TYYYY!”

She came running out of the school’s side gate with her pink glittery backpack flapping behind her. Her puffballs bounced with every step, and Ty barely had time to brace himself before she wrapped her arms around his legs.

He laughed, kneeling down. “Girl, you gonna knock me over.”

“You came to get me?” she said, eyes wide like he’d performed magic.

“Yup. Daddy’s working late, so you hanging with me today.”

She beamed, gap-toothed and proud. “You my new babysitter?”

Ty laughed. “Nah, I’m yourfavorite stylist. Big difference.”

She giggled and slipped her hand into his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

\---

They were now at he salon.

Ty let her pick the music which meant an hour of Disney playlists and one Moana song on repeat but he didn’t mind.

She sat in the big swivel chair, spinning lazily, eating apple slices and doodling on the notepad he’d dug out of the back drawer.

Ty worked at the adjacent station, deep-conditioning a wig and humming along. Every now and then, Amara would pipe up with a random question.

“Ty?”

“Yeah?”

“Do boys wear wigs too?”

He smirked. “Some do. Especially the ones that like their hair to stay laid.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I wanna wear a pink one.”

“Say less,” Ty grinned. “We gon’ get you Barbie ready.”

\---

He sent Malik a picture of Amara sitting under the dryer with the caption:
” Your child said she wants a pink wig. I support this fully.”

Malik
You corrupting her already 😒
How she acting?

Ty:
Like she own the place.
She good tho. We vibing.

Malik ****
I appreciate you, Ty.
More than you know.

Ty read that last line twice then bit his lip.

Ty
You don’t gotta thank me.
I like spending time with her.
And with you.

\---

Later That Evening.

Malik came in around 6:15, work hoodie a little smudged, skin still smelling faintly of tattoo ink and aftershave. His eyes found Ty first always did then drifted to Amara, who ran straight into him.

“Daddy! Ty gave me chips, and I made a drawing for him, and he said I could get a next pink wig when I turn six!”

Malik looked over her head at Ty, one brow arched.

Ty raised his hands in surrender. “I said maybe. I ain’t trying to get jumped.”

Malik chuckled, lifting Amara into his arms.

“Y’all had a good day?” he asked.

“She’s a natural salon baby,” Ty said, brushing hair off his forehead. “Didn’t cry, didn’t whine. Even swept for me once.”

Malik looked at Ty. There was something in his eyes.

Like the kind of quiet realization that hits you when you know your life just shifted, and it wasn’t a bad shift.

“Thank you again,” Malik said, voice low.

Ty smiled, brushing his hands off on a towel.

“Anytime.”

\---

Later That Night

Back home, Ty got a text from Malik.

Malik:
She asked if you could come to her graduation party next month.
You ain’t obligated. Just letting you know.

Ty stared at the message for a long moment.

Ty
If I’m invited, I’m there.
Tell her to save me a cupcake.

Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ty stood outside the community center, holding a pastel pink gift bag and wondering if he was overdressed.

He wore a wide-legged knee shorts, a silky button-up tied at the waist, a gold anklet that glittered when he moved asd a pair of black vans. He wanted to look good, not extra.

Still, this wasn’t his crowd. He was used to salons, stylists, late-night lounges, and slow dinners.

This was balloons, kids screaming, soca music, and aunties with plastic cups full of rum punch.

He took a breath and pushed the door open.

The sound hit him first laughter, chatter, the bounce of dancehall from the speakers in the corner. Kids zipped past him in a blur of party dresses and jelly sandals. The room smelled like curry goat, sweet frosting, and Johnson’s baby powder.

Then he spotted her.

Amara, in a white tulle dress with silver shoes and beads clicking in her braids, twirled like she owned the room. Which she kinda did.

“TY!!” she shouted, halfway through a twirl. “YOU CAME!!”

Ty grinned, walking over and holding out the bag. “Course I came, graduate. You fancy now.”

She grabbed the gift, hugged him tight, and pulled him toward the food table like she’d been planning this moment all week.

That’s when he saw Malik.

He stood by the drinks table, holding a paper plate of fruit and sipping from a red cup. Black tee, jeans, gold chain. Nothing fancy but fuck he looked good. Relaxed. Comfortable. But his eyes lit up the second they locked on Ty.

Malik handed his plate to one of his cousins without a word and walked over.

Ty didn’t move.

“Glad you came,” Malik said, stopping in front of him. The music softened behind them for a moment, like even the speakers wanted to eavesdrop.

Ty raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t really feel like an option. Amara would’ve hunted me down.”

Malik smirked. “She likes you. A lot.”

Ty tilted his head, playful. “And what about you?”

Malik didn’t hesitate.

“I do too.”

Ty blinked.

Malik kept going, voice steady. “That why I wanted to ask if you free next weekend. Something different this time. Just us again.”

Ty bit the inside of his cheek, a smile already creeping up.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Got a spot out in Port Royal. Views, seafood, peace,” Malik said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “Figured you might need a break from the city noise.”

Ty gave him a look. “You tryna be soft on purpose?”

Malik smiled. “I’m just doing what feel right.”

Ty exhaled slowly, nodding. “Yeah. That sounds like something I’d wanna do.”

Malik stepped a little closer. “You sure? Ain’t gotta say yes just to be polite.”

“I don’t do polite,” Ty said. “I do honest. And I like this. I like you. So yeah, I’m sure.”

Malik’s eyes flicked down briefly to Ty’s anklet, then back up.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

\---

Ty found himself sitting between two of Malik’s sisters, both older, both full of questions.

“So you the one Amara won’t stop talking about,” one said, popping a piece of fried plantain in her mouth.

“She said you do hair and wear perfume and smell like magic,” the other added.

Ty laughed, cheeks slightly warm. “She dramatic. But yeah, I guess I’m the one.”

“She’s real fond of you,” one said, giving him a pointed look. “Malik too.”

Ty just smiled and sipped his fruit punch.

Let them think what they wanted.

“CAKEE TIME” Amara yelled.

Everyone gathered around the cake table, phones out, cameras ready.

The cake was pink and white with “Congrats, Amara!” in gold letters and edible glitter sprinkled around the edges.

Ty stood near the back with Malik, his arm barely brushing the man’s.

“You good?” Malik asked.

Ty nodded, eyes on Amara. “She’s glowing.”

“She’s happy,” Malik said. Then, quietly, “You helped with that.”

Ty looked at him, surprised.

Malik didn’t look away.

“I don’t let just anyone near her,” he said. “You probably figured that out.”

“I did,” Ty murmured.

“I was real careful,” Malik continued, eyes soft now. “And then you came in and made it feel easy.”

Ty swallowed hard.

And when Malik reached down to brush his fingers lightly against the back of Ty’s handnot holding it, just touching Ty didn’t pull away.

Didn’t even blink.

\---

After the Party

Outside in the cold night air, Ty waited while Malik packed up food containers and Amara’s gifts into the SUV. The little girl was already half-asleep, head on his cousin’s shoulder.

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Malik asked.

“I got a ride,” Ty said. “But yeah. Walk me.”

They moved slowly under the streetlight, the buzz of leftover music still drifting from inside.

When they reached the curb, Malik turned toward him.

“I meant what I said,” he said. “Next weekend. Just us.”

Ty nodded, voice soft. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Malik hesitated a moment, then leaned in, not for a kiss, not yet. Just close enough for Ty to smell his cologne, feel the warmth of his breath.

“I like taking my time with you.”

Ty’s eyes fluttered shut for half a second, heat blooming low in his belly.

“Good,” he whispered. “Cause I’m not in a rush.”

They didn’t hug. They didn’t kiss. But the air between them was so thick.

Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The salt air felt different in Port Royal.

It wasn’t like the city the breeze was cool here, Boats swayed on still water in the harbor, and the late afternoon sun painted the sea gold. Ty stood barefoot in the sand, toes sinking slightly, white linen pants fluttering just enough to flirt with the air. He had a cropped tee tied in the back, and a gold chain layered low against his chest.

Malik watched him for a long time before saying a word.

They had just finished eating grilled snapper, bammy, and cold drinks under a covered patio with Bob Marley playing low. They talked the way people did when no one was in a hurry: about the beach, their childhoods, what made them laugh.

And now they were here, alone, walking the edge of the water like a movie was about to happen.

Ty looked over his shoulder. “You been real quiet.”

Malik smiled faintly. “I’m soaking you in.”

Ty gave him a half-eye-roll and smirk. “You smooth now?”

Malik didn’t answer right away. He just walked a little closer, hands tucked into his pockets.

Then finally, he spoke.

“Ty.”

Ty looked up.

Malik’s voice was low. Steady. “I mean this in the plainest way I can say it, I want you.”

Ty blinked, heart stuttering once.

Malik stepped closer.

“I want you in Amara’s life. I want you in my life. I want to be yours, if you’ll let me.”

Ty’s breath caught in his throat.

“You sure?” he asked, softer than before. “You know what you’re saying?”

“I’m not confused,” Malik said. “You been showing up for us. Every time. You care about her, you care about me, and I care about you too. Real talk, Ty. I don’t want to play it safe anymore.”

Ty stood still for a second.

Then stepped into him, hands sliding gently against Malik’s chest. “I wanted to hear you say it.”

“I mean it.”

“I believe you.”

Malik reached up, brushing a curl behind Ty’s ear. “So what now?”

Ty tilted his head slightly, meeting Malik’s eyes full-on, and said softly, “Kiss me, Malik.”

And Malik did.

He kissed him slow. Like he had all the time in the world to learn Ty’s mouth. He kissed him like he’d been waiting not rushing, not hungry, just full of something honest and warm and deep.

Ty let himself melt into it, hands wrapping around Malik’s neck as the breeze danced around them and the sun dipped lower.

By the time they pulled back, foreheads touching, the sky was turning soft pink.

“I don’t do halfway,” Ty whispered.

Malik replied, “Neither do I.”

And just like that no firecrackers, no dramatic confessions.

\---

Later That Night

Malik drove them back into the city with one hand on the wheel and the other resting loosely in Ty’s lap.

Ty stared out the window for a while, then looked over at him, smiling to himself.

“What?” Malik asked.

“You gon’ make me start acting like a lil highschool girl in love.”

Malik glanced over, smirk tugging at his lips. “Too late.”

Ty laughed, leaned over, and kissed his cheek light and lingering.

Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ty leaned against the counter in the salon’s back room, hands wrapped around a too-sweet iced coffee.

Deena clocked it the second he walked in.

“You glowing fren”

Ty smiled into his straw. “Am I?”

Deena dropped the flat iron she was cleaning. “You and Mr. Tall Tattoo went on a date again?”

Ty didn’t say anything at first. Just lifted his coffee cup and nodded slowly.

“And?”

“And…” Ty drawled, twisting slightly at the waist, “…he told me he wanted me. Like, not just ‘let’s mess around’ wanted me. Like real intentional. And then he kissed me, and sis… it was everything.”

Deena squealed and did a little dance in place. “You lying! You LYING. He told you that?”

“Straight to my face. Said he wanted me in Amara’s life too.”

“Wow. That’s a real man right there. You okay though? That’s a big step.”

Ty nodded, more thoughtful now. “It is. But he makes it feel easy, Dee. Like he not tryna change me. He just wants… me.”

Deena softened, walking over and wrapping her arms around him. “You deserve that. All of it. I’m proud of you for being open.”

“I was scared,” Ty murmured. “Still kinda am.”

“That just means it’s real,” Deena whispered.

They stood like that for a second, two friends, two stylists, who had seen each other at their best and their worst, and for once, Ty didn’t feel the need to perform anything.

\---

Malik sat on the edge of Amara’s bed, still in his work clothes, while she hugged a big stuffed unicorn.

Her room was full of pink and purple sparkly curtains, baby doll shoes, a mini bookshelf with sticker-covered spines. But what Malik loved most was how hers it all felt. She was five, bold, and already full of fire. It made him want to protect her from everything.

“Hey, baby,” he said gently.

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She looked up at him, head tilted, curls fluffed up from nap time. “Am I in trouble?”

Malik chuckled. “Nah, nothing like that.”

He rubbed his palms together once. This part mattered.

“You know how you like spending time with Ty?”

Amara nodded immediately, eyes lighting up. “He’s my favorite! He lets me do his lip gloss and we watch Barbie and he’s really nice.”

Malik grinned. “He is isn’t he?”

Amara nodded.

“Well,” Malik continued, “I wanted to tell you something important. Grown-up important. Me and Ty… we’re dating now.”

Amara blinked. “Like boyfriend and boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Malik said carefully. “Like that.”

She paused.

Then: “Does that mean Ty’s gonna come to my school plays and eat dinner with us sometimes?”

Malik blinked. “If that’s okay with you, yeah. He’d like that.”

Amara launched herself into his lap with the force of a tiny cyclone.

“I LOVE TY! I WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN!”

Malik laughed, hugging her tight. “You did?”

“I told Grandma last week that I wanted Ty to be my daddy’s boyfriend,” she said proudly. “I prayed about it and everything.”

Malik pulled back a little, eyes wide. “You prayed about it?”

She nodded hard. “I said, ‘God, I want Ty to be in our family because he makes Daddy smile with his eyes.’”

Malik couldn’t speak for a second.

The innocence. The clarity. The truth in her voice.

“You okay, Daddy?” she asked, touching his cheek.

“Yeah, baby. Just happy.”

She smiled again and held up her pinky. “Promise you won’t mess it up?”

Malik hooked his finger around hers. “Pinky promise.”

\---

Ty’s phone buzzed.

It was a picture: Amara and Malik, pinkies locked, grinning from ear to ear.

Malik
She said we got her blessing.

Ty held the phone to his chest and smiled so wide it hurt.

Ninteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ty sat cross-legged on the floor of Malik’s living room, Amara perched on a little cushion in front of him, humming off-key to whatever cartoon was playing in the background.

The soft click of beads filled the space between them. Ty moved with a practiced ease, a part stylist, who really just wanted his little girl to feel pretty and seen.

He dipped a little edge brush into gel and whispered, “Hold still, baby. Lemme bless these edges one time.”

Amara grinned. “Make it swoopy, like last time.”

“Always.”

Behind them, the smell of sautéed peppers, onions, and jerk seasoning drifted from the kitchen. Malik moved around the kitchen, pan sizzling, cabinet doors opening, music on low from a speaker tucked in the corner.

Ty’s eyes drifted toward the kitchen doorway. Malik had on a white tank top, black shorts slung low on his waist, and no shoes. His arms flexed every time he stirred the pot.

Ty bit his lip a little.

“Almost done,” he told Amara, brushing the last baby hair into a perfect swoop and setting it with a dab of mousse. “Now don’t touch it ‘til it dries.”

Amara turned and looked up at him, big brown eyes glowing.

“You make me feel like a princess.”

Ty smiled softly. “You are a princess.”

She leaned against his chest briefly, full of affection. “You should move in so you can do my hair every morning.”

Ty laughed. “I think your daddy might have something to say about that.”

From the kitchen: “I ain’t sayin’ no.”

Ty flushed, cheeks warming at the casual way Malik said it. Like he wasn’t joking.

Amara looked between them. “You guys should kiss.”

Ty blinked. “What?”

She shrugged. “You’re dating. In the cartoons, the people who like each other always kiss in the kitchen. That’s the rules.”

Ty looked at Malik, who leaned against the wall now, holding a wooden spoon and grinning slow.

“She got a point,” he said. “You wanna follow the rules, or be rebels?”

Ty rolled his eyes playfully, standing up and brushing off his pants. “Don’t act like you’re not waiting for the green light.”

Malik stepped forward, barefoot, soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I am. But only if you want it.”

Ty stepped into him, just enough for their chests to touch, and whispered, “Been wanting it.”

Malik leaned in and kissed him, gentle at first, then just a little deeper, just enough to make Ty’s breath catch. It wasn’t rushed or hungry.

From the couch, Amara clapped once. “Yay! You did it!”

They both laughed against each other’s mouths, and Ty rested his forehead on Malik’s shoulder.

“She’s really got us wrapped around her finger,” Ty murmured.

Malik kissed his temple. “She just says what we scared to.”

\---

Dinner was eaten on the couch, all three of them cross-legged with plates in their laps. Amara dipped her plantains in ketchup. Ty told Malik it was a crime, but still passed her the bottle.

After she’d gone to bed, Malik came back out and found Ty in the kitchen, washing dishes even though he told him not to.

“You don’t gotta do that.”

“I know,” Ty said, rinsing a glass. “But I wanted to. Feels right.”

Malik stepped up behind him, resting a hand low on Ty’s back.

“You feel right.”

Ty turned, water still dripping from his fingers, eyes soft.

“I think I’m falling for you harder than I thought” he said.

Malik placed a kiss on Ty’s neck. “Good. Fall all the way.”

Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

Ty wasn’t sure what it was about Malik’s apartment that made him feel so comfortable. Maybe it was the warm lighting, or the smell of cinnamon and cedarwood, or the way Amara’s toys lived in the corner. It felt lived in. Safe.

And tonight, it was just the two of them.

Amara had gone to stay the weekend with Malik’s mom a treat for finishing basic school. Ty had teased Malik about missing her before she even left, and Malik had rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it.

Now, the apartment was quiet. The night outside was heavy with heat, and the A/C was humming low. Ty sat curled on the couch in one of Malik’s shirts soft cotton, faded from too many washes. He wasscrolling on his phone but not really watching anything.

Then he heard the bathroom door click open.

He looked up and froze.

Malik stepped out, shirtless, towel slung over his shoulder. His curls were still wet, hanging a little looser around his face. His chest was broad and inked, tattoos climbing across his skin like stories. His abs looked like they’d been carved by someone with an agenda.

Ty’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t even try to hide it.

Malik glanced over and smirked. “Why you looking at me like I owe you something?”

Ty blinked, then licked his lips slowly. “Maybe you do.”

That shifted the air.

Malik walked closer, slow and loose. He sat beside Ty, reaching to brush a curl out of Ty’s face. “Do I?”

Ty sighed, as if he was saying fuck it. He pulled Malik by the towel and kissed him. Malik gripped Ty’s neck, not chocking, just holding his neck.

Ty Climbed into his lap, straddling him, never breaking contact.

Malik’s hands gripped his hips firmly, fingers pressing into soft skin beneath the borrowed shirt. Ty moaned into his mouth, slow and hushed, and that one sound made Malik’s restraint damn near vanish.

“You feel so good,” Malik murmured against his lips, kissing down to his jaw, his neck.

Ty whispered, “You can touch me. I want you to.”

Their mouths met again, and this time it was messier, hotter a rhythm built from want and patience finally colliding. Malik’s hands roamed up Ty’s back, lifting the hem of the shirt just slightly to feel skin, warm and smooth beneath his fingers.

Ty pulled back for a breath, his lips swollen, eyes low and hooded. “Malik…”

“Yeah?”

“Take me to your bed.”

Malik didn’t hesitate. He lifted Ty off his lap gently, took his hand, and led him down the hallway.

Once they reached the room, Malik locked it and pulled Ty into another kiss.

Malik hands went under ty’s shirt, kneading at his ribs, his chest. His mouth found Ty’s neck, licking and biting just below his ear, and Ty arched back into him with a quiet whine.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” Malik muttered, hand sliding lower, cupping Ty through his jeans.
”Soft everywhere.”

“Then do something about it.”

Malik carried him to the bed laying him out and took off ty’s shirt and pants as well as his own joggers.

Ty ran a hand up his stomach, over the inked skin, biting his lip as Malik hovered over him.

“God, Youre sexy.”

“Can say the same for you, pa.”

Pa…

Malik pushed a finger inside causing Ty to arch up, moaning. Malik smirked, adding another finger, watching as Ty’s face frowned in pleasure. He fingered Ty slowly and teasingly, earning a whine from the male. Malik reached for a condom and tore it with his teeth. He pulled his fingers out, rolling the condom on his dick.

Malik pushed inside Ty, groaning at the feeling of Ty clenching around him. “Shit…”

Ty moaned, hips bucking. “Malik… I—”

Malik kissed him, swallowing all of Ty’s moans as he thrusted inside him. Ty’s fingers clawed at Malik’s back, toes curling tightly. “fuck—”

Malik sped up, increasing the loudness of Ty’s moans. “Malik— fuck, you too deep”

Malik only smirked, going deeper, not too much to hurt him. Malik groaned, hands gripping Ty’s waist so he could hold him in place.

“Please…” Ty tried pulling away since the pleasure was getting intense, but Malik held him in place to stop him.

“It’s okay pa, you can take it”

Ty whimpered, gripping tightly onto the sheets.

Hes fyne asf, his personality is a 10 and he fucks good, god I’m lucky.

Malik sucked on Ty’s neck, groaning as Ty clenched around him. “fuck Ty..”

Ty’s whole body trembled as he came, chest rising and falling heavily. Malik came shortly after, groaning in Ty’s neck.

“I feel ruined..” Ty whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “But in a damn good way.”

Malik smiled, kissing Ty softly. He pulled out, resting his head against Ty’s chest. After a minute, he lifted Ty in his arms and carried him to the bathroom.

—

Ty lay against Malik’s chest, his fingers tracing a tattoo on his side, a compass with Amara’s name inked into the north point.

Malik’s arm was heavy around him, warm and solid.

They hadn’t said much after. Just touches. Kisses.

But now Malik broke the silence.

“I’m glad you made the first move.”

Ty tilted his head. “Tonight?”

“No,” Malik said, turning slightly so he could see Ty’s face better. “Back when this started. When you offered to do Amara’s hair. When you texted me out the blue. When you showed up.”

Ty looked at him, a soft vulnerability in his eyes. “You were scared?”

Malik nodded once. “Yeah. Not ‘cause I didn’t want you… but because I did. And I didn’t wanna mess it up. Especially with her in the picture.”

Ty let his fingers trace his collarbone now. “You’re not messing anything up. You’re doing it right.”

Malik kissed his forehead. “You feel like home, Ty.”

Ty smiled. “So do you.”

They lay in silence again, breathing in rhythm. And somewhere between their legs tangled under the sheet and the weight of the moment, something wordless settled between them — a kind of knowing.

They didn’t need to define it tonight.

They just needed to feel it.

Twenty one

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Ty stood behind his station, twisting the last section of a client’s coils when he caught the familiar figure of Malik’s frame in the mirror.

Ty smiled without meaning to. “You early.”

Malik smirked as he stepped in closer. “Couldn’t help it.”

Ty clicked his tongue and handed his client a mirror. “You’re lucky you’re fine, Malik.”

The client laughed and slid off the chair, already peeking at Malik as she made her way out.

Deena, from across the room, shot Ty a knowing look and mouthed “I see you!”

Ty just rolled his eyes and waved Malik over to his chair.

“You wanted plats today, right?” he asked, pulling on gloves and gathering his combs.

Malik nodded, settling down with a soft grunt. “Yeah. Thought I’d switch it up.”

“You growing your hair out or just tryna keep your curls in check?”

“Little of both. But mostly,” Malik said, letting his head fall back gently so Ty could part his hair, “I just wanted to be touched by you.”

Ty paused mid-part, eyes flickering toward the mirror.

Malik met his gaze there.

“Boy, you cheesy.”

Malik grinned. “Yeah. But you love it.”

Ty snorted and started parting the hair again, carefully sectioning off the front. “Mmhm. Head up, baby.”

The silence between them wasn’t awkward. It never was. There was comfort in it.

Malik let his eyes flutter shut, sighing once.

“I’ve been missing you,” he said after a while, voice barely above a murmur. “Like, for real. Been thinkin’ ‘bout you even when I’m busy.”

Ty didn’t say anything at first, just kept working, tight, neat, smooth to the scalp. He could feel Malik relaxing under his hands.

“Come over after work?” Malik asked softly. “Don’t gotta be deep or anything. I just… I wanna lay next to you. Talk a little. Hear your laugh.”

Ty’s heart tripped a little.

He knew Malik wasn’t the kind to say things just to say them. So when he said he missed you, it meant something.

Ty leaned down and brushed his lips against Malik’s temple without breaking rhythm.

“I’ll come over.”

Malik smiled without opening his eyes.

“Good,” he said. “Bring your bonnet.”

Ty rolled his eyes, biting back a grin. “You love me in that bonnet.”

“I do,” Malik replied without hesitation. “Love you outta it too.”

Ty stilled for half a second.

Malik didn’t take it back.

And Ty didn’t push. He just smiled to himself, head down, fingers braiding, heart open.

—

Later That Evening

Ty knocked once before opening the door like he’d been told to do. Malik’s place smelled like butter popcorn and vanilla candles, and the soft sound of a cartoon theme song was playing in the background.

“Ty!” Amara popped up from behind the couch, blanket cape trailing behind her. “You came!”

Ty dropped his duffle bag by the door and crouched down. “Of course I did. I heard you had all the good snacks.”

She grinned and ran up to hug him tight around the neck. Malik walked out from the kitchen, still in his plaits, tank top snug and smile lazy.

“She stayed up just for you.”

Ty glanced back at Malik, heart warming at how soft his voice went when he talked about her and him.

“Y’all already watched the movie without me?”

“Only the beginning,” Malik said. “She said it didn’t count ‘til you got here.”

Ty took his spot on the couch, and Amara nestled herself right under his arm like she’d always belonged there. Malik joined them on the other side, long legs spread out, arm casually thrown behind the couch behind Ty.

They watched the rest of the movie with low lights, half attention, and shared glances over Amara’s head. When her breathing slowed and her small body went still under the blanket, Malik stood and scooped her up in his arms with ease.

“She’s out,” he said, voice hushed.

Ty stood to help pull the blanket off the floor and watched as Malik carried her to her room, gentle as ever. It hit Ty then, hard just how good of a father he was. How safe he made everything feel.

When Malik returned, he pulled Ty into his bedroom wordlessly.

They didn’t rush. Malik peeled off his tank, revealing his toned chest and the ink that covered his chest like art. Ty sat on the bed, legs folded, hoodie pulled over his head, curls slightly frizzy from the day.

Malik dropped beside him, the mattress dipping under his weight.

They lay back, turned toward each other, fingers lazily tracing bare skin.

Ty was the first to speak. “You ever think about how fast life moves when you’re not lookin’?”

Malik brushed a thumb over Ty’s cheek. “I think about how right it feels when you finally slow down.”

Ty smiled softly and leaned in, resting his forehead against Malik’s. “You been making me feel… grounded. Like I don’t gotta pretend around you.”

“You don’t,” Malik whispered. “Never did.”

The silence stretched between them, not awkward just full of things that didn’t need to be said.

And then Ty leaned in.

Their lips met softly, gently. No rush. Just warmth. Malik shifted closer, cupping Ty’s face like he was something delicate and rare.

Their mouths moved in sync, and the heat crept in not just physical but emotional. Like they’d been holding back for so long and now had permission to exhale.

Malik kissed him like he meant it. Like he’d been waiting. Like he wanted every kiss to tell Ty something words couldn’t cover.

When they finally pulled back, breathless but not gasping, Ty looked up at him with a dazed smile.

They lay back down, tangled now, legs overlapping under the blanket. Malik’s fingers drew slow circles on Ty’s hip.

“You staying the night, right?” he murmured.

“Wasn’t planning on leaving.”

Malik kissed his shoulder. “Good.”

“You know,” Malik said softly, “I never wanted to bring someone into her life unless it felt serious. Real.”

ty turned to face Malik fully. “And this? What we got?”

Malik’s hand slid up to cup the back of his neck, holding him close.

“This is real.”

Twenty two

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Sunday morning sunlight filtered through the windows like honey, warm, lazy, unbothered. Ty was in the kitchen flipping pancakes in one of Malik’s hoodies, music low, hips swaying slightly as he moved. Malik leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, watching with an amused smile.

“Look at you, all domestic,” he teased.

“Look at you, all whipped,” Ty shot back with a wink.

Malik smirked and stepped behind him, wrapping his arms around Ty’s waist. “I like waking up to this.”

Before Ty could answer, a knock echoed from the front door. Sharp. Repetitive. Urgent.

Malik frowned.

He let go of Ty and headed toward the door, barefoot and cautious.

Ty turned the stove off, sensing the shift in the air.

Another knock.

Malik opened the door slowly and froze.

There, standing in cutoff shorts, hoop earrings, and a smug expression, was Shashell.

Amara’s mother.

The woman who dipped years ago with no explanation. No calls. No letters. No birthday cards.

“Hey, Malik.” She popped her gum. “Surprise.”

Malik’s jaw tensed. His body went stiff. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see my daughter,” she said casually, brushing invisible lint off her tank top. “What, I need a permission slip now?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Deadass,” she said, leaning one hand against the doorframe like she had every right to be there. “I miss her. She’s mine too.”

Ty stood in the hallway now, arms crossed, eyes cool. He didn’t say a word.

Malik glanced back at him, then stepped outside and gently closed the door behind him.

“You left, You missed her birthday. You missed school meetings. You left her crying for you for months.”

Shashell rolled her eyes. “Life got complicated, okay? But I’m back now. I’m trying to be involved again.”

“Involved?” Malik’s voice was clipped. “You don’t get to just show up and act like nothing happened.”

“I’m still her mother.”

“Barely.”

That cut, and Malik knew it. But he didn’t take it back.

Shashell stood up straighter. “Look. I don’t want drama. I just want to see her. Maybe take her for the day. Catch up.”

Malik exhaled, stepping away from her

“Shes inside,” he said slowly. “But you don’t get to pop up and make demands. We do things on her terms now. She’s not a baby. She remembers.”

Shashell’s face twitched, the smirk faltering just a bit.

“I ain’t here to fight, Malik. I just wanna be in her life again. Can you let me?”

Malik studied her the familiar curve of her mouth, the same eyes Amara had. But they didn’t shine the same.

“Give me a minute,” he muttered.

He went back inside.

Ty was still standing there, brows raised. “So that’s her?”

“Yeah,” Malik said, closing the door softly behind him.

Ty nodded once. “What you gonna do?”

Malik sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Let her say hi. See how Amara reacts. I’m not about to force anything.”

“You okay?”

“I am baby” Malik said.

He stepped toward Amara’s room, tapping gently.

“Baby girl,” he said softly. “You up?”

She opened the door, sleep still in her eyes, curls wild. “Mmhm?”

“There’s someone here asking to see you. Mommy.”

Amara blinked. “Mommy?”

“Yeah,” Malik said, crouching down. “She said she wants to talk to you. Only if you want to.”

Amara hesitated. Her little face twisted into something unreadable.

”…Okay,” she said finally.

Malik stood, holding her hand, and opened the door again.

Shashell knelt down on the porch as soon as she saw her.

“Hi, baby,” she whispered, tears forming quick. “I missed you so much.”

Amara stood still for a moment. Then nodded once. “Hi.”

She didn’t run. She didn’t cry.

She just looked at her like she was someone she used to know.

Malik watched from behind, heart thudding.

Ty stood beside him, not touching, just there

\-

Later That Day

Shashell stayed for twenty minutes. She asked Amara about school. About her favorite shows. She offered to take her out next weekend. Amara said “maybe.” Nothing more.

When she finally left, Malik locked the door and leaned back against it, eyes closed.

“That was… a lot,” he murmured.

Ty came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Malik’s waist, resting his cheek between Malik’s shoulder blades.

“You handled it.”

“I feel like I’m gonna fall apart.”

“But you didn’t,” Ty said gently. “You stood up for your daughter. You kept your boundaries. That matters.”

Malik turned and pulled Ty into him, holding him tight.

“She doesn’t get to come back and wreck what we built.”

“She won’t,” Ty said. “Not on my watch.”

Malik kissed his forehead.

Then his lips.

Soft. Needing.

There was fear there. But there was also trust.

They were in this together now.

And no one not even Shashell could shake that without a fight.

twenty three

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Dryers were blowing in the background, music was playing low through the speakers, and Ty was in the zone, carefully parting his client’s hair into crisp, clean sections. His expression was calm, lips parted in focus, soft hums escaping every now and then as he worked through the twists.

His client, a regular named Shae, was scrolling through her phone and sipping a coconut water. “You always get my parts so sharp, like… I swear you got laser vision.”

Ty smirked. “It’s a gift.”

The front bell chimed.

Ty didn’t look up at first. The shop stayed busy people came and went all the time. But the air shifted quick.

He felt it before he saw it.

Then he heard the click of heels. Loud. Intentionally loud.

“Wow. Ain’t this something.”

Ty blinked, slowly turning to see Shashell standing near the front counter with arms folded, attitude practically pouring off her.

Deena looked up from her own station across the room, immediately sensing the drama.

“Can I help you?” Ty asked, voice cool but firm.

“Yeah, you can,” Shashell snapped. “You can keep your damn hands off my daughter.”

The entire salon paused.

Even the music felt like it dipped for a second.

Ty gently told Shae, “Gimme a sec, babe,” and turned to face her fully.

“She’s five,” Shashell continued, voice rising. “Not your kid. So I don’t know why she knowin’ your number by heart, drawing pictures with you in them, saying how you do her hair and pick her up from school.”

Ty’s jaw clenched, but his voice stayed even.

“Because I care about her. And because I show up.”

“Boy, don’t get smart,” she snapped, taking a step forward. “You tryna play daddy with my child? You tryna take my place?”

“Nah,” Ty said, rising slowly to his full height, comb still in hand, voice low and steely. “I’m not tryna take nobody’s place. But if you think I’m gonna step back because you decided to show up outta nowhere, think again.”

Shashell scoffed. “You a grown ass man playing house with my baby and her daddy. You need help.”

“And you need accountability,” Ty snapped, finally letting the heat into his words. “You dipped. You left Malik to raise her alone. And now you mad ‘cause somebody stepped in and did what you shoulda been doing?”

Her nostrils flared. “Watch your mouth.”

“No,” Ty said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “You got the wrong one if you thought I was gonna cower just because you got a nasty attitude and a birth certificate. I love that little girl. I care about that man. And I don’t owe you a damn apology for being there.”

Shashell’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“I’m not tryna take your place. But I am part of her life. So if you came here to bark and beat your chest like you earned something back just by showing up, I suggest you take that energy somewhere else.”

Deena finally stepped in, her voice sharp and professional. “If y’all gonna argue, take it outside. This a place of business.”

Shashell stared at Ty, eyes full of venom, then turned on her heel and stormed out, letting the door slam behind her.

The salon exhaled.

Shae gave Ty a look like damn.

“You okay?” Deena asked from her chair, brow furrowed.

Ty picked up his comb, breathing steady but sharp. “Yeah. I’m good.”

But his hands trembled slightly.

—

Later That Evening

Ty was back home, sitting on his bed when his phone buzzed.

Malik 🖤:
She pulled up on you??
Deena just told me. You good?

Ty 😍 :
She really came in loud. Talkin crazy.
Tried to tell me to stay away from Amara. Like I don’t got a place in her life.
I handled it. But I’m still heated.

Malik 🖤 :
I’m proud of you.
She has no right to come at you like that.
You earned your place, Ty. Amara loves you. I love you. That won’t change.

Ty stared at the screen for a moment, heart thudding softer now.

Ty 😍 :
Just wanted to protect what we got.
She not about to shake me out of it.

Malik 🖤 :
Come over. You need peace tonight. I got you.

Ty 😍 :
On my way.

Twenty four

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Ty didn’t knock when he arrived that night. Malik had already sent a voice note earlier: ” Just come in, baby.”

The house smelled like lavender and a little bit of bleach Malik had cleaned after work the way he always did when he was tense. Ty stepped out of his slides, dropped his overnight bag near the door, and walked into the living room where Amara was curled up on the couch under her pink blanket, watching Moana.

“Ty!” she beamed, instantly reaching for him.

He smiled, soft and warm, dropping to her level. “Hey, sunshine. You good?”

She nodded, then frowned just a little.

“Mommy came yesterday,” she said, voice quieter now. “She was loud.”

Ty blinked, then sat beside her and tucked a curl behind her ear. “Malik told me”

“I don’t want to see her again,” Amara said, and this time her voice was clear. Solid. “She left too long. I don’t remember her much.”

Ty’s heart broke a little at that.

But he also admired her honesty that raw, unfiltered emotion kids had when they were truly hurt.

“I get that, baby. And that’s okay.”

“Can I stay with you and Daddy forever?”

Ty smiled. “Forever sounds real nice.”

Amara nodded, satisfied with that answer, then laid her head against his arm.

That’s how Malik found them minutes later, Ty curled protectively around Amara, the movie still playing, her eyes heavy now.

This… this felt like something they’d all been missing. Something that couldn’t be shaken not by the past, not by fear.

Just love. Chosen love.

—

The Next Morning

Sunlight hit the kitchen like it belonged there.

Malik stood shirtless at the stove, muscles flexing as he flipped plantains in the skillet. His gray sweatpants hung low, and his tattoos stretched deliciously across his back and shoulders. The curls he tied back were still slightly damp from the quick shower he took after walking Amara to school.

Ty leaned in the doorway, silently watching him.

He looked too damn good.

Malik glanced over, smirking. “You staring again.”

“Hard not to,” Ty said, voice low, eyes locked on his frame.

“You hungry?”

Ty walked over slowly, chest brushing against Malik’s back as he wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Starving,” he murmured “but not for food.”

Malik chuckled. “Boy…”

“I’m serious,” Ty said, already sinking to his knees. “You ain’t got no shirt on, pants hanging like that. I’m supposed to ignore that?”

Malik set the spatula down. “Baby—”

Ty pulled Malik’s sweats down and wrapped his lips around Malik’s dick.

Malik’s hand gripped the counter, head tilted back, he could only groan Ty’s name and remind himself to breathe.

Ty looked up through his lashes, smug and focused, eyes locked like a man on a mission. The kitchen echoed with Malik’s gasps.

“Fuck Ty—”

Ty went all the way down, gagging but didn’t pull off. Malik gripped Ty’s curls, keeping him in place. Ty’s tongue teased Malik as he sucked harder.

“Ty baby—” Malik pulled ty off to cum all over the floor. “Fuck..”

“Remind me to cook shirtless more often,” he mumbled.

Ty wiped the corners of his mouth with a smirk. “Remind me to wake up earlier.”

Twenty five

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

The air was soft that evening. Golden sunlight filtered through the blinds of Malik’s apartment, catching dust specks midair as he sat across from his daughter at the small dining table. Her swingy legs didn’t touch the floor, and her hair was still neat and fresh from when Ty combed it.

Malik folded his arms gently, voice calm but serious. “Amara, you said something. About your mom.”

Amara didn’t look up right away. Her fingers traced the pattern on her placemat.

Malik leaned in. “It’s okay to talk to me about how you feel. Always.”

She finally looked up. “I don’t like her.”

“Okay,” Malik said, not pushing, just giving her space.

“She was loud. And mean. And she didn’t even ask if I was okay or nothin’. She was just mad cause I told her I like my daddy’s new boyfriend.”

Malik’s chest tightened, but he kept his face neutral.

“She hurt my feelings,” Amara whispered. “I don’t wanna see her again.”

“You don’t have to,” Malik said gently, reaching for her hand. “Nobody not even your mama gets to be in your life if they don’t treat you with love and respect.”

She blinked up at him. “Even if she’s family?”

Malik nodded, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Especially then.”

Amara smiled softly and leaned across the table. Malik caught her mid-hug, lifting her into his arms.

“Thanks, Daddy.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me for protecting you,” he said into her curls.

—

Two Days Later

Malik stood outside the salon arms folded across his chest, black tee stretched over his chest, chain glinting in the sunlight. He’d texted Shashell to meet him out front. She arrived exactly ten minutes late, looking smug in a jumpsuit and sunglasses too big for her face.

“Why you lookin’ like you about to arrest me?” she said, smirking.

Malik didn’t smile.

“I talked to Amara.”

That made her shift. Slightly.

“She said she don’t wanna see you.”

Shashell’s mouth opened, but Malik cut her off before she could start.

“I’m not gonna argue,” he said. “You left. That’s facts. Now you want a welcome parade? You hurt that little girl, and instead of making it right, you doubled down and showed up at my man’s job tryin’ to puff your chest.”

Shashell narrowed her eyes. “So he yours now, huh?”

Malik stepped closer, voice lowering to a warning. “He been mine. And you better watch how you talk about him. You don’t get to come back into our lives and try to shake up what’s been healing.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “He really got you wrapped.”

“No,” Malik said. “He cares. He cares about our daughter. And most importantly, he shows up. That’s more than I can say for you.”

Shashell’s expression faltered.

“Amara doesn’t want contact right now. So don’t pull up to the school. Don’t show up at the salon. And don’t ever raise your voice at Ty again ‘cause next time, I won’t be this calm.”

“Malik—”

He raised a hand. “We done.”

She stared at him for a long minute realizing that her grip on his life was officially gone.

Then, with a slow pivot, she turned and walked away.

Malik stayed there for a moment, jaw clenched, pulse steady. He wasn’t angry anymore.

He was just done.

He turned back toward the salon, and through the window, he caught a glimpse of Ty laughing with a client.

Malik exhaled.

That was home.

Malik 🖤 :
come over after work, we miss you baby.

he looked through the glass and saw Ty biting his lip, smiling while reading his message. That made Ty smirk.

Ty 😍 :
Sure my big baby 😂

Malik liked the message and left the area, going back home.

Twenty six

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

The scent of butter and vanilla filled the air, smelling through the apartment with the sound of laughter and music playing low on the Bluetooth speaker. The kitchen was a mess flour on the counters, smears of chocolate on the cabinets, sprinkles everywhere they werent supposed to be.

“I said one egg, Amara!” Ty laughed, holding up the cracked remains of two shells as Malik doubled over in the corner, wheezing.

“She said she was tryna make it extra moist,” Malik choked out, holding his stomach.

“It was for the flavor!” Amara argued, tiny hands planted on her hips. Her hair was tied up into three playful puffballs, one of which had a rogue sprinkle stuck in it. Ty had pulled out her hair to wash it because it was getting fuzzy.

Ty shook his head with a smile. “You’re too much.”

“No,” Malik said, walking over and wrapping an arm around Ty’s waist, “you’re too much. Flour on your cheek, sugar in your curls how’d you even manage that?”

Ty leaned his head against Malik’s chest and let out a sigh. “I love this mess.”

Amara grinned up at them. “You two lovebirds done flirting so we can finish?”

“Ohhh, lovebirds” Ty raised an eyebrow.

Malik grinned, rubbing Ty’s back. “She not wrong.”

Ty bent down slightly to Amara’s level, a playful glint in his eye. “You just mad ‘cause we caught you eating frosting straight out the bowl.”

Amara gasped, scandalized. “You saw that?”

Malik snorted, lifting her up effortlessly and tossing her gently in the air. She squealed, giggling uncontrollably as she landed in his arms. “You ain’t slick, mama.”

The timer beeped from the oven. Ty took out the cupcakes carefully and placed the tray on the stove. The frosting was a work in progress they’d tried to make two colors but ended up with a weird swirled lavender that somehow worked.

Amara peeked up at Ty while he was piping a very lopsided swirl.

“Ty?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can I… call you Daddy too? Sometimes?”

The question caught him mid-motion.

He blinked, stunned, as the frosting bag drooped in his hand.

Malik went still.

Ty looked over at Malik, who just gave him the softest, most encouraging nod.

Then Ty looked back at her.

“You really want to?”

She nodded quickly, little hands gripping the hem of his oversized t-shirt.

“Then yeah, baby,” Ty said, voice thick. “You can call me whatever feels like love.”

She grinned, eyes sparkling. “Okay, Daddy Ty.”

Ty covered his mouth, turning his face away before the tears slipped.

Malik wrapped his arms around both of them, chin resting on Ty’s shoulder. “You good?”

Ty nodded, smile trembling. “I’m good. I’m… real good.”

\-

Later that night, after the cupcakes were devoured, dishes stacked high in the sink, and Amara finally knocked out on the couch mid-Encanto, Malik and Ty found themselves in bed, lights low, a soft breeze coming through the cracked window.

Ty lay across Malik’s chest, tracing one of his tattoos slowly with his nail.

“She really called me Daddy Ty,” he whispered.

“You earned it,” Malik murmured, fingers moving through Ty’s curls. “She don’t give that title easy.”

Ty swallowed thickly, then looked up at him. “I ain’t ever had this before. A home that felt like… this.”

“I love you, Ty,” Malik said, voice steady. “For real.”

Ty’s lips curled upward, eyes shining even in the dim light. “I love you too, Malik.”

Malik leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to Ty’s lips, tasting sugar and something sweeter.

Something real.

Something permanent.

And in the quiet that followed, wrapped in each other’s arms, they both knew:

They were exactly where they were supposed to be.

Twenty seven

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

The new apartment smelled like freshener and pine cleaner. The kind of scent that clung to open boxes and bare walls but somehow still felt… like home.

A year had passed.

One full year since that first braid appointment. One year since gentle texts, nervous tension, warm walks to the park, and awkward family dates. Since kisses over cupcakes, declarations whispered in bed, and healing from the hurt that once lingered at their doors.

Now they stood in the middle of their shared space, all three of them Malik, Ty, and Amara barefoot and smiling like fools.

“Where’s my room again?” Amara asked, spinning in a circle with her stuffed unicorn under one arm.

“Down the hall, second on the left,” Malik said, lifting her with ease and twirling her midair. “Right across from us.”

“And I get to pick the curtains?”

Ty grinned. “Anything but unicorns and glitter, please. We tryna keep this place intact.”

Amara giggled. “Glitter is the vibe!”

Malik and Ty exchanged a look that tired-parent-but-willing-to-lose-this-battle look.

“Glitter it is,” Malik surrendered.

Amara pumped her fist and ran down the hall to measure imaginary curtains with her unicorn.

Ty leaned against the doorway, watching her with a small smile. “She’s really excited”

“She is” Malik said, slipping his arms around Ty’s waist from behind.

\-

Later That Night

The apartment was quiet.

Only the sound of the refrigerator and the gentle rustle of curtains moving with the breeze filled the space. Amara had knocked out after dinner, her arms tangled around her unicorn and her mouth slightly open. Ty had tucked her in, kissed her forehead, and closed her door with the kind of careful ease that only came from love.

Now, Ty stood in the bathroom, wearing one of Malik’s oversized tees and nothing else. He was brushing his teeth when Malik stepped out of the shower, towel hanging low on his hips, steam rising from his bare chest and inked skin.

They locked eyes in the mirror.

No words passed between them.

Just that slow heat that burned bright behind Malik’s gaze. Ty spit the toothpaste out, rinsing his mouth.

He turned around, resting his back against the counter, toothbrush still in hand.

“You gonna keep staring?” he asked with a little smirk.

Malik walked up and took the toothbrush from his hand, placed it gently down, and leaned in.

“Kinda hard not to,” he murmured against Ty’s lips, smiling.

Their kiss was unhurried soft, but deep. Familiar, but still full of spark.

They made their way to the bed like that skin on skin, fingers tangled, hearts beating fast.

“Dont go easy.. please” Ty begged.

Ty cursed as Malik pulled his boxers down. He swallowed Ty whole like he was starving, eyes locked up at him. Ty’s hands flew to Malik’s hair, moaning.

“Malik-” Ty squirmed, gripping tightly onto his boyfriend’s curls.

Ty came with a gasp and a choked-off moan, one hand slamming against the bed, body trembling. But malik didn’t stop, he kept his mouth around him, kept sucking until ty was cursing and twitching and trying to push him away.

Only then did malik stand, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Ty’s chest was heaving, his shirt crushed, his hair a mess, pupils blown wide.

Malik smirked, “want me to continue?”

Ty nodded eagerly, spreading his legs wider.

Malik took off the towel and before he could do anything, Ty flipped them over so he was above. He lowered himself down to Malik’s dick, taking in all of Malik.

Malik groaned, hips bucking. His hands found their way to Ty’s hair, gripping it to guide Ty’s movements.

Ty kept sucking until Malik was hinting that he was close. He pulled off, just as Malik came.

for a moment they catched their breath, then Malik switched their positions. Ty was on his stomach, ass up with Malik behind him.

Malik entered a finger inside Ty, earning a low moan from the male. He added a next finger, scissoring Ty. “M-Malik..”

Malik removed his fingers and pushed in, rough but gentle. Ty moaned. Malik gripped Ty’s hips and began moving faster.

Ty clawed at the sheets, gasping, cursing, eyes rolling back as Malik thrust into him hard, relentless.

“Fucking hell malik-” Ty chocked out, his body jerking forward with each thrust.

“Ty- fuck..” Malik groaned as Ty clenched around him.

Malik groaned, kissing the back of Ty’s neck as he came, hips stuttering, hands trembling. Ty followed seconds later, crying out, body clenching around malik, eyes rolled back, voice raw from moaning.

“you okay?” Malik asked, slowly pulling out.

Ty nodded, eyes fluttering shut.

They stayed like that for a minute, catching their breath before Malik lifted him from the bed and carried him to the bathroom.

__

Ty lay with his head against Malik’s chest, legs tangled. “I’m sleepy”

Malik kissed the top of his curls.

“You know I’d do this every night for the rest of my life, right?”

Ty smiled, eyelids heavy. “Same.”

They drifted off to sleep, bodies tangled.

Twenty eight.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

The sign glistened under the sun, bold and black against a pale cream wall. **INKD, ** neat cursive with a rose entwined around a tattoo machine and a comb. The duality of it was perfect. Just like them.

Inside, the space was split, but seamless.

On one side: leather barber chairs, ring lights, shelves lined with gels, oils, and silk wraps in rainbow hues. Ty’s domain was warm, inviting, full of soft gold accents and velvety greens. The mirrors were rimmed in LED lights, and the soft scent of shea butter and citrus lingered through the air.

On the other side: polished black cabinetry, tattoo ink bottles sorted by tone, and bold artwork hanging along matte charcoal walls. Malik’s section was moodier, heavier in tone, but with plants in every corner a compromise Ty insisted on. It brought life into the darkness.

Music played low in the background as people mingled during the soft opening. Friends, clients, curious passersby all flowed in and out, taking pictures in front of the flower wall near the back that read.

STYLIST AND ARTIST.

Deena showed up in heels and attitude, snapping selfies while sipping complimentary punch.

“Y’all did that,” she said, nudging Ty’s hip with her elbow. “I told you this was gon’ happen. Manifested it.”

Ty laughed, adjusting the combs in a tray beside his station. “You told me I was gonna end up with a sugar daddy. Close enough, I guess.”

Malik, passing by with Amara on his hip, smirked. “If I’m the sugar daddy, why you the one with all the expensive tastes?”

Amara giggled. “Because Daddy Ty likes sparkly stuff!”

Ty leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You understand me.”

She beamed and pointed to the treat table. “Can I have another cupcake?”

“You already had two,” Malik said.

“One more,” she pleaded.

Ty shot Malik a look.

Malik sighed. “Fine. But if you get a sugar rush, you staying in Ty’s chair.”

Amara grabbed the cupcake and skipped off.

Deena grinned. “She got both of y’all wrapped.”

“Unfortunately” Malik muttered, watching her disappear into the crowd.

Ty looked around the shop at the clients already making bookings, the shelves of his custom hair oil, the black-framed wall featuring portraits of some of Malik’s most iconic tattoos.

“baby,” he said, nudging Malik’s arm.

“Yeah?”

“We really did this.”

Malik looked down at him, the pride in his eyes impossible to miss.

“We really did.”

—

Later That Night

The last guest filtered out, and Ty locked the front door while Malik wiped down his chair. Amara had fallen asleep in the back on the tiny sofa they’d set up in Ty’s break room.

Ty walked over and leaned against Malik’s station, arms crossed.

“You tired?” Malik asked, stretching his back.

“Hell yeah,” Ty said with a grin. “But it’s a good tired.”

Malik pulled him close by the hips. “We opened our own spot.”

“I know,” Ty murmured. “Feels unreal.”

“Wanna make it even more real?”

Ty raised a brow. “How?”

Malik leaned in, forehead against his. “By coming back here every day. Doing what we love. Side by side.”

Ty’s chest swelled. “That sounds like everything.”

“It is everything,” Malik said, voice low. “Us, the business, Amara. This is our life now.”

Ty brushed his fingers down Malik’s beard. “I’m in. All the way.”

They kissed softly slow and deep, under the glow of the overhead lights. No rush, no audience. Just two men who built something out of nothing. Together.

Behind them, the flower wall glowed faintly, the words etched above them.

Stylist and Artist.

**THE END. **

___

AND THATS A WRAP. I’m writing a new story though called under the influence 😌 .

1. One
2. Two
3. Three
4. Four
5. Five
6. Six
7. Seven
8. Eight
9. Nine
10. Ten
11. Eleven
12. Twelve
13. Thirteen
14. Fourteen
15. Fifteen
16. Sixteen
17. Seventeen
18. Eighteen
19. Ninteen
20. Twenty
21. Twenty one
22. Twenty two
23. twenty three
24. Twenty four
25. Twenty five
26. Twenty six
27. Twenty seven
28. Twenty eight.