hold still…
it’s 11:47 pm.
the lights are off except for the aggressive beam of your phone flashlight pointed directly at joe’s back like you’re a dermatologist with zero credentials but unlimited confidence.
joe is face-down on the bed, half buried in the pillows, his hair doing that stupidly perfect fluffy thing that makes him look like he just walked off the set of stranger things
unfortunately for him, you have discovered something.
“babe,” you whisper dramatically.
he groans into the pillow. “if this is about heated rivalry, i’m going to bed.”
“no. worse.”
joe slowly turns his head. “worse?”
you tap his shoulder.
“you have a blackhead.”
he freezes.
“…no i don’t.”
“yes you do.”
“where.”
you zoom your flashlight closer like you’re exploring a cave.
“right here.”
joe lifts his head again, deeply suspicious. “you said that last night and it was literally a freckle.”
“this is NOT a freckle. this is a situation.”
he drops his head back into the pillow. “leave it.”
you gasp like he just suggested arson.
“leave it?? joe that thing has a mortgage.”
“it does NOT.”
“it’s been paying taxes since 2014.”
joe sighs the sigh of a man who knows his peace is over.
“no popping.”
you ignore him and climb onto the bed behind him.
“don’t touch it.”
your fingers are already hovering.
“don’t—”
poke
joe immediately sits up.
“STOP.”
you sit there, hands raised like you’ve been caught committing a crime.
“…i barely touched it.”
“you ambushed my back.”
“i’m helping you.”
“you’re harassing my pores.”
you shine the flashlight again.
“joe. i’m serious. it’s like… ready.”
he stares at you.
“ready for WHAT.”
“its moment.”
“it does not have a moment.”
“it literally does. i can tell.”
joe rubs his face.
“you cannot just declare war on my back at midnight.”
you slowly reach toward him again.
he slaps the bed.
“NO.”
you gasp.
“why are you gatekeeping your blackheads.”
“i am not gatekeeping them.”
“then let me pop it.”
“absolutely not.”
you cross your arms.
“this is why people break up.”
he stares at you in disbelief.
“because i won’t let you attack my spine.”
“you don’t understand the satisfaction.”
joe rolls over to face you.
“i DO understand because you made me watch a twenty minute compilation of ‘best pops of 2023.’”
“and did you or did you not say ‘wow that one was crazy.”
“…that one WAS crazy.”
you lean closer.
“this could be that.”
joe grabs the blanket and dramatically wraps himself like a burrito.
“no access.”
you sit there in silence for three seconds.
then slowly try to peel the blanket back.
joe tightens the burrito.
“i can feel you trying.”
“just one.”
“NO.”
you sigh heavily.
“fine.”
you turn off the flashlight and flop onto your pillow.
thirty seconds of silence pass.
joe relaxes.
another thirty seconds.
then you whisper into the dark:
“…it’s still there though.”
joe screams into the pillow.
“GO TO SLEEP.”
