A Miserable Pile of Secrets

Arthur had been working in his funny office for fifteen minutes when the door opened and Vince peeked in. That handsome man was wearing business casual attire and a wicked smile. His fingers curled around the edge of the door as his eyes lit up on Arthur's face. "Heeeeeeey ... so, I was wondering something."

"Weren't you supposed to leave the house for a meeting?" Arthur asked as he typed at the computer.

"Yeah ... I pushed that an hour ahead. Check my schedule."

Arthur put his hand on the mouse and did just what he was told. "Okay. Cool. What do you need?"

The smile only turned more unnerving. "I was thinking about sexually harassing you. Okay?"

Arthur's response was quick and rigid. "I'm working. Fuck off."

"Oh come onnnnnnn!" Vince's expression changed into something crabby. "It won't hurt anything."

Arthur picked up his notebook and hurled it at the door. "Working." Vince closed his eyes and laughed in his throat. Then Arthur said, "I'm working, Dude. Go look at porn or something."

Vince was smiling again. He also nodded like an indulgent mother that had just heard a child say something naive. "Okay, okay. Do your thing. I'll bug you later."

Arthur rolled his eyes as the door was closed.

A big, dopey weirdo.

That's who Vince was sometimes.

But he was sexy as hell and still the coolest guy around.

The phone rang. Arthur answered it. The voice sounded familiar, but Arthur shrugged the thought away.

Some moments later, another phone call. That voice was also familiar. In fact, Arthur was pretty sure that person had called only a day ago asking for the same thing he was now. Okay, whatever. Arthur took care of that and went back to the keyboard.

When it was time for lunch, Vince appeared with a fast food bag. He playfully dangled it in the air and gave a tantalizing question. "Do you want a chicken sandwich?"

"Shit," Arthur said as he walked up to clock out, "smells like some tasty trash."

"Everything in moderation, Artie." Vince said.

"Oh, so I'm Artie now?" Arthur let the camera take a photo of his face.

"Sure. You can call me Vinny if you want."

Arthur didn't really want to. It sounded girly. Arthur was much weaker and less intimidating than Vince was, but he wasn't girly and he didn't like typical girly things. Calling a man Vinny would make his masculine brain cringe.

In one of the kitchens, they ate their sugary, salty fast food, but they drank healthy fruit juices. Vince brought up something Arthur didn't expect. "Hey, how about I make some appointments for us to get tested?"

After a swallow of chicken and bread, Arthur said, "Oh, you mean for STDs? That's cool."

Nodding quite seriously, Vince said, "We'll have to get tested for everything possible."

Why the hell not? Arthur took a swig of his juice and said, "Okay. Do you think it's possible to get appointments around the same time?"

Making a gesture with a fry in his fingers, Vince said, "I'll make a call to PVMC. They'll sort us out as quickly and possible. If you have the money, private hospitals are the best."

"It's just as good to go to a small clinic or Planned Parenthood."

The other man chomped down on a bundle of fries, and then he took some of his drink and sighed. A salty finger was held up. "Okay first of all, fuck Planned Parenthood."

"Respect O Meter just went down another notch," Arthur said.

A second finger of Vince's rose. "I'll agree to disagree on that, but anyway, second of all, I'm hardheaded and I want to go to PVMC. So there. I'll pay the bills."

"Well ... okay." Arthur wiped his mouth with a paper towel. "Employees at private hospitals need to get paid too."

"It's my duty as a citizen to keep paying for things," Vince said very happily. "The more money people spend the better the economy, and I have a lot of money."

A few days later, after work, Arthur walked with Vince inside an elevator. They were going to the main garage. "I don't know how you got matching appointments for us," Arthur said as he adjusted his old quilted coat.

Putting a hand in a pocket of his double breasted, soft blue coat, Vince smiled at him. "Since I'm your ride, the first one to get done needs to wait on the other." His free hand went to the buttons.

The doors closed and the elevator moved. Arthur sighed. "It would be easier if you'd just let me take my car."

"But it wouldn't be fun."

One of Arthur's fingers moved up to scratch at his ear. "You're a walking contradiction. One minute, you're all, 'Oh no, don't tell anyone I'm rich.' The next you insist on taking the limousine."

Vince smoothed back some of his hair. Most of it was in a masculine topknot. "Yeah, but when I go to town in the limo, I don't scream my name to everyone and demand attention. I just like being the mysterious rich guy sometimes."

The elevator stopped. "Whatever," Arthur said. "Do you want to do anything after the hospital visit?"

"Of course." The doors opened. The men went on to the hallway, heading towards the door to the garage. "I want to go shopping."

"For what?"

"Random luxury shit, plus I think you'd look cute with a new watch."

Arthur flipped his coat's hood up. "What do I need a watch for? Cell phones are a thing."

They smoothly entered the garage. The expensive cars looked kind of lonely. Did Vince ever drive any of them, or were they just fancy trophies to him?

Vince's voice had a bit more darkness than normal as he said, "Well, you're getting a watch anyway, and some new clothes."

"What am I, a doll?" Arthur's crooked nose rose as if he was the snob.

This time, a driver opened the limousine's door for both men. Vince watched Arthur get in with a sharpness in his eyes. He almost looked angry. He even chewed on his bottom lip like he was seriously thinking about something bad.

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked.

He shrugged as heat blew out of his mouth. "Yeah." Then he got into the seat beside him.

***

Arthur fell back on his bed and let his arm fall over his closed eyes.

He kicked his shoes off of his aching feet. His coat was on the floor. What else was on the floor? Shopping bags. So many shopping bags.

They were full of stuff, mostly stuff Arthur didn't want but some things were cool. Lots of huge, glittering watches. A few big rings. Lots of cufflinks. Some apparently collectible pocketknives. A certain video game console that Arthur didn't want and wasn't planning on using, along with lots of physical copies of games. Bottles of shampoo and body wash that smelled like fantasy jungle vacations. Several shoes of varying styles. Clothing that had designer labels, including complete suits and some pocket squares. Different colognes with a wild range of scents. A few books. Some snacks and candy. Some comfy headphones. And a few manicure sets.

The last time Arthur joined Vince on a shopping trip, he'd mostly watched Vince burn through each store like a voracious, if polite, monster. Arthur had only purchased a few necessities while Vince got any stupid thing he thought was cool. So, when Vince decided that Arthur should have "a few things," Arthur had expected all the absurdity. That didn't make him any less exhausted in the end, though.

When Vince wanted to do something, he fucking did it. He didn't care how often Arthur said, "No thanks. I'm fine. Let's go somewhere else." Anytime Vince's eyes caught a neat thing he wanted to buy it for Arthur.

"I'm not your husband," Arthur whined to him perhaps an hour into the trip. "This isn't necessary."

Vince had ignored that and held a shirt over Arthur's torso.

Arthur rolled over on his bed twice. Then he rubbed his eyes with his knuckles.

A knock on his door.

"Hi! Did you get everything in your room?"

God damn it, Vince!!

Arthur sat up. "Aren't you tired?"

"Well ... yeah, but I want to be tired with you."

Arthur shrugged and stood up. "Okay, what do you want to do?" He slowly went to the door to unlock it.

"Hot tub?"

After he opened the door, Arthur closed his eyes, took a deep and miserably accepting breath, and said in a conquered whisper, "Of course you have a hot tub."

"At least three, I think," Vince said.

Arthur leaned into the tall, solid man, his cheek meeting a shoulder. "Okay. A soak in a hot tub sounds great."

The hot tub was in one of the gyms, sunken into a tiled floor. Just as Arthur had expected, it was pretty big and wasteful, and it was already bubbling. But he didn't say anything about it. He just changed into a simple pair of swim trunks and got in. Vince followed suit. He had on one of the tiniest swimsuits in the world. His dick's shape was very obvious. He put an arm around Arthur's shoulders and nuzzled his hair as their muscles loosened in the hot water.

Veeeeeeeeery nice.

Maybe the water relaxed Arthur's mouth, but after the men spoke of silly things for a while, he thought of breaking work rule number one. He said, "Hey, I was wondering about something."

"Hm?" Vince let his fingers dance on Arthur's arm. "Something you want?"

"No. I'm fine." Arthur put his thumb on one of Vince's smooth fingernails and lightly rubbed it. "A lot of my work is strange. All those numbers I have to keep typing, I mean, why hasn't someone else typed them out before they got to me? There are other secretaries or accountants in your business, right?"

Vince's nose went under Arthur's jaw. "I don't want to talk shop. I want to play."

Arthur sighed and put his fingers between Vince's. "Okay. Sorry. Didn't mean to stress you out."

And they kissed.

And kissed.

And licked at each other's teeth.

Sloshing the water around.

Easy touches. Nothing too draining.

They held each other, even let their legs tangle. When Arthur felt Vince's erection under the water, he tugged the little swimsuit down and stroked like crazy. Vince gently bit Arthur's lip, then released in a sliding motion. His murmur was hardly audible. "Let me have that mouth for a minute."

Arthur thought more than a minute would be fine. He let Vince go so he could climb out of the tub and sit on the floor with his legs dangling in the water. Still in the tub, Arthur got to his knees and pulled Vince's swimsuit off his ankles. He gripped Vince's thighs and put that wet cock head into his mouth, carefully lapping and flicking with his tongue. Behind the water, there was the strong aroma and flavor of musk, clean musk. His free hand slipped between Vince's thighs to carefully juggle his mildly hairy sack. Arthur didn't hate that hair at all.

He tasted the bulging veins, and he heard the man's grainy exhale.

Down, lower, as much as possible. Then up, carefully.

Vince caressed his scalp. Then he gripped his ear, although he didn't pull. "Shit, oh fuuuuuck ... Man ...!"

Arthur hummed and lightly squeezed the balls. The legs parted a little more, giving him more room. Good.

Vince's feet splashed in the water. His nails ran up Arthur's cheek, not hard. There probably wouldn't be any marks. His thick cock was so hot in Arthur's delicate mouth.

"Stop ... hah ... stop!" Vince pushed Arthur off him very roughly, but he rubbed his cheek with his fingers and palm. His other hand held his cock and pumped. Almost like a cat, Arthur gazed up at him and licked his lips. Vince's eyes were surprised. His lips formed a near zero. Then they changed. His lips warped into something savage. The veins in his throat were so huge.

His head moved back. He groaned, and his semen came out pretty eagerly, splattering on Arthur's neck.

***

Work was occasionally confusing, but still mostly boring. The air outside was cruel and frigid, but Arthur never felt it unless he opened a window or peeked out to a patio, not that there were any windows in his office to do so. He was actually a little bit warm. He stopped his work to go to a thermostat to turn the heat down. The phone rang again. So he jogged back to his seat and answered it.

"Hello? How may I help you?"

The voice he heard ...

"Sir?"

But ... he sounded like ...

"Didn't you call earlier today? Why are you faking a voice?"

Click.

He'd hung up on Arthur.

Arthur's brow was practically knotted up as he stared hard at the phone. That was a mistake, right? He didn't mean to hang up.

But Arthur waited and waited.

He didn't call back.

At lunchtime, Vince did what he'd always done, opening the door and saying he wanted to have lunch together. Arthur nodded, unwilling to say much about his concerns. But maybe he should say something? His brain was simmering and he knew it would still be that way when he'd lie down to sleep.

Lunch consisted of chicken fajitas and salad with goat cheese and croutons. They ate in one of the dining rooms for a change. Arthur had difficulty calling it a dining room. He thought it looked like a place for a fancy board meeting. Arthur half expected a bunch of stuffy people in suits to burst into the room and give him haughty looks. How dare this white trash eat at their table?! They do important things here!! Things that matter!! Arthur looked down at his salad and quietly chortled into the bowl.

The tip of Vince's index finger poked into Arthur's shoulder. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing really." He put some more food into his mouth. His teeth made loud, crunchy noises. Yet he was quiet for a while, listening to Vince talk. Part of his brain wasn't devoted to Vince's words. Arthur was thinking of other things.

Life had been so easy. If Jake had been able to see this, he'd be incredibly spiteful. He was likely in a cell right now ...

Wait.

Arthur put his fork down and interrupted Vince. "I'm sorry, but I just thought of something."

Vince's cheeks rose in a smile. "What is it?"

"Shouldn't I have spoken to the police?"

Digging into his fajita, Vince said, "You already did, but I guess you don't remember."

"Oh." Arthur shrugged. "I guess that makes sense, but do you think I'll have to testify in court soon?" His fingers tensed around his fork. "I know that's usually necessary, but I really don't ever want to see his creepy face again."

"Don't think too hard about it." Vince said without a care in the world. "Unless you get a subpoena, you don't have to go to court. There's plenty of evidence against him, and even if the charges don't stick, he won't find you." He put a hand on Arthur's thigh. It wasn't expected, and it was so warm. Arthur blushed at the gesture. Vince went on as he lightly clutched him. "And even if he did, he won't be able to get anywhere near the doors to his place."

Arthur felt better after he said that. This was a safe place, a happy place.

After lunch, Arthur was so motivated that he tried to put all the effort into his job, not that he hadn't put any effort in before. He had to do his best. He liked his boss. He REALLY liked his boss. That meant he couldn't let his work slip.

But after he clocked out for the day, Arthur realized something horrible.

He'd been putting the wrong numbers into the wrong column in several spreadsheets.

And he'd already emailed that to Vince.

Shit!!

All of Arthur's skin crawled and vibrated as nausea tickled his throat. He felt like the highest tier of glorious dumbassery. How could he?! How could he do this?! He slapped a wall with his forehead and nearly sobbed.

Vince entered the room then. He gave Arthur a gentle little shake and asked, "Hey, what's the matter?"

Embarrassed, but unwilling to make the problem worse by lying, Arthur hid his eyes with his palms and explained what he'd done wrong.

A moment of silence, except for Arthur's heavy breathing.

Then Vince laughed so loudly that Arthur hopped in place and put his hands on his ears. Vince bent over and put the side of his fist on the wall. Then he wiped a tear from an eye and slowly returned to a calmer state, still smiling. "It's fine," he said. "Totally fine. Just fix it tomorrow."

"It ... it's that easy?" Arthur frowned. "But that'll take time from tomorrow's work."

Holding up and shaking his hand, Vince insisted, "It's fine. Don't let it get to you. Go at your own pace."

"But ... but how can you do well with a secretary that doesn't know what he's doing?"

Vince shrugged at him and put a hand on the door. "I think you're doing fine. So come on. Let's workout."

"Oh ... okay?" Arthur followed him out of the room.

***

Arthur tried to catch up. He really did, but when the next day was over, he was still behind. He apologetically told Vince this, but all he got was a somewhat entertained grin and a pat on the shoulder. This baffled Arthur. In his mind, it didn't matter how often the boss got to fuck your asshole. You needed to actually do work. He kept thinking about this issue for a long time, distracting himself from everything. Vince had to wave his hand in front of Arthur's eyes many times just to get his attention.

On the next work day, Arthur kept trying. He even worked through his lunch. This pissed Vince off a bit; he actually bitched as he closed the door, something like, "Fine, wear yourself out."

A few phone calls were missed. That's how bad it got. Arthur freaked out when he realized it. He even tried to call the numbers back. Most didn't answer. This only made his mood worse. He actually tugged on sections of his own hair, grinding his teeth, as he tried to find a solution.

But when the day was over, Vince massaged Arthur's scalp with his caring fingers and kissed his cheek. "It's fine. Stop worrying and just do your best."

Arthur's brain fizzled as he thought on Vince's attitude.

Soon, he wondered ... did Vince even care?

But, clearly Vince didn't let anyone else working for him get far behind. One could say that Vince was giving him a break because the job was still new, but Arthur didn't think he was still in "training mode" at this point. That wasn't an excuse.

When the next work day came, Arthur kept trying to complete his work, but he still had his difficulties.

Then came the first phone call.

"Sir? Sir! Are you faking a voice again?"

Click ...

Were they playing jokes on him? Should he report this to Vince?

Another phone call.

"Hello?"

A woman asked for something completely unrelated to the last caller's request, but in the background, Arthur knew he heard a familiar man's voice talk about some random thing.

What was this, a joke?!

Arthur was so angry he hung up. Then he instantly regretted it. Like a sleepy child in school, he folded his arms on his desk and put his head down.

He brooded.

And brooded.

An idea ...

It slowly blossomed, spreading out, like a refreshing mist. Arthur put his palms on the desk's edge and pushed himself up. He could see his own stupefied eyes in the shiny, reflective surface.

No ...

No, Arthur was just being silly. There was no way ...

But ... what if ...?

The phone rang.

Arthur picked up the handset and put it to his ear, and funny thing, he thought he had an idea of what the person wanted.

"Hello? Let me guess. You want to ask about Mr. Jeffery and a meeting later?"

The person was flustered. He tried to deny it, but he couldn't immediately think of a different thing to ask for.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone," he promised before abruptly hanging up.

These people ... were they just a small group, calling about the same things over and over.

Never underestimate a gamer's ability to notice patterns.

***

Ice cream sandwiches in winter, because why not?

They were eating them with no problems. Arthur was playing a Civilization game on his PC while Vince watched slightly behind him. "It's like an economy and politics simulator," he'd said. "This should be given to students to play with."