A Miserable Pile of Secrets

Arthur didn't express any frustrations the next time he "worked." He only did maybe seventy five percent of what he thought he could normally do. He even let the phone ring a few times. No big deal. His cell phone was there to entertain him when he had free time. At lunchtime, Vince noted his good mood. Arthur humored him and said everything was perfectly fine.

The week after that, Arthur did about half a day's work in a full day. He spent the rest of the time watching videos on this phone, ear buds plugged in.

By the time spring started, Arthur was only doing a quarter's worth of the work. Every day, he'd put a bold, knowing look to Vince's face. What did Vince do? He just smiled and went on with life. They worked out. They watched movies. They even played games together. Vince had gotten his own portable console, matching Arthur's, just so they could play Stardew Valley together. And of course, they had sex a lot. Vince was usually the aggressive one. Sometimes, Arthur was tackled and pinned down. Sometimes, he was snatched away into some random closet. Thankfully, nobody was harmed, so at least Arthur didn't live in fear.

He just ... lived in secret anger.

Vince should know. He should know damn well that Arthur was slacking off. But he didn't give any indication that he cared.

Slimy ... sneaky ... lying ... admittedly hot son of a bitch!

One day, when Vince knocked on the office's door just before lunchtime, and he let himself in. Arthur wasn't wearing any shoes, and his socked feet were put up on the desk. In his hands, there was his game console. He was playing a South Park game, although he hadn't watched South Park in years. When he heard Vince's bright voice, he didn't even look up from his screen. "Oh? Lunch? Okay, let me save real quick."

He hadn't done any work at all.

Arthur purposely moved his legs off the desk in a flamboyant way, which shocked him the moment after he'd done it. He'd almost expected to fall out of his chair like a dumbass. Blinking at the size of his metaphorical balls, he smoothly turned off his console and moseyed on over to his boss.

Vince's lips were squirming as if he was trying not to laugh.

That only pissed Arthur off even more. He wanted to scream.

In a clean dining room, they ate a lunch of black bean burritos and lentil salad. Arthur decided to politely wait until their bellies were full. Then, just as Vince got up and reached for the plates, Arthur tugged on his sleeve, bitterly telling him, "We need to talk."

A playful fire was lit behind Vince's eyes. He took his seat again, put an elbow on the table, and put the side of his head on his hand.

A pompous little smirk.

Arthur took a breath.

Let it out.

His fingernails went to the table.

"Vince ... I haven't done any work today."

"Oh?" Vince's eyebrows shot up, but his smile grew. "Too tired?"

Arthur formed a fist. "Do you even care?"

Vince had the gall to slide his eyes up and down Arthur's body and scrunch his lips up in a kissing expression.

Arthur pounded his fist against the table once, making the plates bounce and clang. He was furious. "So when the fuck were you going to tell me you got me doing pointless busy work all damn day?!"

Another kissy face.

He slapped the table. "Vince!! Why the fuck did you do this?!"

Vince's head rose from his palm and took on a lighter expression. "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad, Artie."

He reached for Arthur, but Arthur kicked his chair, and himself, out of Vince's way. "Well, you failed! All this time, I thought I was actually working, you know?" His voice trembled. "But you've been paying me to ... basically the same thing as writing lines or copying definitions out of a glossary!" He gripped the arms of his chair as he leaned forward. "You even paid random ass people to call me!"

Curling and entwining his fingers between his thighs, Vince answered without missing a beat. "You really shouldn't be mad. I've been giving you money for nothing." He lost absolutely none of his good humor.

A fast shake of his head, and Arthur said, "That's humiliating!! I'm a person, not a dog you give treats just because it ran after a stick!!"

Vince got up from his chair, and he very sweetly said, "Hey, it's better this way." He tried to touch Arthur, but Arthur moved away, also getting up.

"What the hell do you mean?!" Arthur stepped away from him. "I should've gotten an apartment or something in town and got a different job. This was all waste of my time, and you put more effort into fooling me than some people put into building a PC!!" He was pretty much yelling at this point. He felt his face and throat heating up. He even knocked the closest chair around. It crashed against the edge of the tabletop and fell on its side. "What am I supposed to do?! What the fuck am I supposed to do?!"

Ever calm, infuriatingly calm, Vince advanced, his voice cushy and mild. "It's alright. We can change it. You don't have to do all that stuff anymore."

Arthur stepped back again. "Why did you do this?! You went out of your way to trick me! That's so fucking evil!!"

"I only wanted you to feel better." Vince caught up and gripped his arms. Arthur didn't want any eye contact, so he turned his head away. That didn't stop Vince from talking to him. "I don't want you to worry about anything, and I didn't mind giving you money each week. If that meant I had to make up a fake job for you, then so be it."

"But that's now how it works." Arthur folded his arms and curled his spine over a bit, looking at Vince's slacks. "You played me. You treated me like a toy."

"No ... no, Honey." Vince gave him a hug, but something felt off about it, forceful, even taxing. Arthur's face was put to his white shirt. He unfolded his arms, but he didn't hug him back. Vince pressed up and down his spine with one hand. "I just want you to be safe and happy here. I didn't want you to have to do anything too hard, let alone anything that could cause trouble if you messed up. You'd freak out if you caused any problems." He reached up to pet the back of Arthur's head. "I wanted you to hold your head high, but I guess you saw through it, huh?"

Why ...

Why was Arthur's nose itching? Why did his sinuses feel swollen? Why were his eyes watering?

He put a hand on Vince's chest. "Did you really think this was a good thing?"

"Of course, Artie." He sounded so sincere, perhaps even a little bit hurt. "I'm sorry about this. How about we start over? You can just stay here anyway."

A long, thick sniff, and Arthur understood he was crying into Vince's shirt. "Stay here anyway? What about rent?"

"I don't give two shits about that. If it'll make you feel better I'll print out receipts for your rent until the lease is up, but you don't have to give me a penny."

Arthur closed his wet eyes. His cheeks were wet too. "That's not fair. I can't just stay here rent free."

Vince touched a space behind Arthur's ear and put a whisper close by. "I own the house, and I say you'll stay here, rent free, as long a you need to. Don't worry about it."

Arthur's emotional state worsened. It was almost rash. He turned into a sobbing, wailing creature. Between his blubbering, he squeaked out things like, "You hurt me! You were so awful! How could you?! I thought you were a nice person!"

As if Vince wasn't being called out, he held Arthur and led him out of the dining room while telling him these sorts of things, "I know. I'm sorry. It's okay now. Don't worry."

Was he really sorry? Did he really care that he'd hurt him?

Big, badass Vince, did he ever care about what he did?

They went to Arthur's room. Vince sat him down on the edge of his bed and left him to find the stuffed teddy bear and monkey from the hospital. He put those soft things in Arthur's lap, sat down beside him, and hugged him again.

Hatefully digging into the innocent stuffed toys, Arthur carried on with his misery. Vince tolerated it all, kissing him and wiping his face and nose with a microfiber cloth that had been on a nightstand. Arthur liked to use those for wiping screens.

When Arthur was worn out, Vince kissed his cheek and asked if he was okay. Arthur gave a fragile little shrug. His throat hurt and he had some difficulty breathing through his nose. He fell onto his side and took a fetal position. He didn't even care about his shoes being on the bed. Vince chided him with the gentlest, mildest tones, and he pulled the shoes away. He actually took a moment to hold one of Arthur's socked feet and press into the arch. Arthur made a high-pitched, piglet-like whine, and he pulled his feet away.

"Look ... Artie ... I need to go soon. I have a late meeting." Vince touched one of his arms and gave a light squeeze. "I have to keep the business up." He kissed his cheek again. "I'll check on you later tonight." Vince left him alone then. The sound of the doors opening and closing sounded hollow.

When Arthur's cellphone told him it was close to nighttime, he thought he was in a better state. He was playing a Sims game on his PC, drawing walls around a Sim and hoping to starve it to death. There was a knock one of the double doors, and he called out, "Who is it?"

"It's Vince. Mind if I come in?"

Arthur paused the game, scooped up his keys, and went to unlock the doors. Then he slid them away. Vince was looking pretty nice in blue slacks and a matching waistcoat with a white shirt. No jacket, but that was fine. Something seemed to be poking out through his slacks' pocket. Arthur ignored it and asked with a tired voice, "Hey, what's up?"

Vince's dark hair was tied back, giving him a ready and cocksure appearance. His typical smile didn't minimize the result. "Come with me."

"No thanks." Arthur pointed his thumb back at his PC. "I'm killing some Sims."

Vince's hand rose and went to the doorway's edge. The old scars on his hands suddenly made Arthur wonder how he got them. "Forget the game," Vince said. His eyes riddled down into Arthur's, momentarily stupefying him. All Arthur could do was feel his blood skate in his extremities. His dick even jolted when Vince asked, "Have you gone to the bathroom recently?"

Arthur's eyes bulged and he retreated a little. His fingers fiddled together as he looked down at one of the buttons on Vince's waistcoat. "Well ... uhm ... yeah. I'm ... I'm good, but," he made some nervous lip smacks, "I ... I mean whatever you're thinking probably won't make things better between us."

Swift and vicious, Vince's hand was propelled, and it landed on Arthur's scalp. There was tugging, only slight pain, as Arthur's head and body was pushed close to him. He grabbed Vince's shirt and whined out, "Hey!"

But he couldn't say anymore. Vince had his mouth. There was a layer of burning alcohol on his tongue. Arthur had been around him while he drank before. He'd always seemed to be a silly, happy drunk. There were a few pleasant memories involving a some shots and a romp behind a bar. Thankfully, the bartender had politely left the room. Arthur hadn't felt comfortable until he was gone.

At this time, as Vince's tongue nestled and petted his, as he kept his head in place, Arthur tried to give a protest. It was a failure. Vince pushed his hips forward and rocked. It didn't take long for both of them to get hard-ons. When Vince released Arthur's mouth, he hissed at him, "I want to wolf you down."

Uneven, nearly breathless, Arthur made a funny noise and wilted against him. His body was still highly infatuated with Vince even if his mind wasn't.

And Vince just pulled him out of the room, grunting out all the dirtiest words in the world. They didn't even close the doors to Arthur's room. One of Vince's palms sunk in Arthur's jeans' pocket, almost crushing his cheek. Sometimes, Vince yanked his hand out and slapped roughly where the center-line was.

They ended up in that bright, red and white room with the huge wall mirror. More lusty memories drowned Arthur's poor brain.

Vince didn't take him to the bed. He took him close to the mirror, so close that Arthur could've touched the glass without stretching his arm very far. Then he turned Arthur's body at an angle from the mirror, went to his knees, and roughly unzipped Arthur's fly.

Arthur looked at their reflections. He saw Vince pull his pants and underwear down his thighs, and his cock stuck out in quite a vulgar way. He closed his eyes and turned his head back to a forward position. "You ... you really like to play around with mirrors, huh?"

Vince didn't give a reply. He just sunk his fingers over Arthur's buttocks, spreading him a bit, and put most of his cock in his mouth.

Arthur put his hands on the back of Vince's head, even gripped his ponytail. "God. Fucking. Damn it!!" He moved his head back. "You're like ... I don't even know!!" A few moments later, he was trying not to move his himself forward. He was worried that he might accidentally poke Vince's throat.

But after few licking strokes in, Vince took his mouth away and grasped the shaft. Then he gave a saucy wink and moved under to put his mouth right on one of Arthur's testicles.

Like ocean water coming in waves, Arthur's brain sent signal after signal. Delicate, precious pleasure, trickling all around. Vince took turns with each ball, licking and carefully playing around, all while running his fist up and down the shaft.

"Christ! Vince!" There were dancing, blurry fireworks behind his eyelids. "God damn it!!" Then he was moaning, long and drawn out.

Just when Arthur worried that he might explode, Vince gently slipped his lips away from his testicles and put a kiss on his erection's head, removing his hand. His eyes were almost stern as he jerked his head towards the nightstand that Arthur knew had supplies in it. "Get the lube, Honey. Gloves and condoms too."

They were both free of STDs. They understood that well, but Vince was just the type to prefer a barrier when it was time for some contact with an anus. Arthur's legs were wobbly but he managed well, and he didn't have to look back to know that Vince's eyes were glued to his ass. He could feel them drilling into his flesh.

Arthur returned with the necessary items and saw that Vince's slacks, briefs, and shoes were on the floor. Vince took the items and put them on top of the slacks. Then he slapped one of Arthur's thighs, kissed a spot right above his knee, and said, "Hands on the mirror."

"Oh!" Arthur was a little nervous, but still eager. "Okay!" Guess it was obvious who'd do the pumping that time.

The glass was oddly cold.

Arthur saw his pink face, his wiggling and uneven nose, and his chafed lips. Then he heard Vince putting on a glove. Yep. It was obvious, didn't even take long for a glove coated finger to play around in Arthur ass while Vince rained kisses on his back and side. Vince even gave a few long, happy licks, making Arthur's fingers shake against the mirror.

Hm ... the mirror ... didn't move.

But who cares? Vince was treating him to a favorite massage, making his feet flex in the carpet.

Then Vince helped to pull Arthur's underwear and pants all the way off. Naked from the waist down, except for socks.

Right after Vince slipped the condom on, and added a little extra lube, he turned Arthur around, kissed him hard, and said, "Hold onto my shoulders."

Glad to comply, Arthur wrapped his arms around Vince, and he was picked up by his backside and held against that mirror.

And impaled so perfectly that Arthur nearly died. He gasped and licked his lips. His buttocks felt like Vince's hands were branding him in the best way. His feet were in the air, and Vince's body and clothing was scraping against his, at least on top. Their sweat mixed as they fucked like crazy. It was a tight, sloppy experience.

Hot kisses, muffling both their crazed vocalizations.

Arthur's sphincter was spasming and constricting, adding a different layer of pleasure. His cock was bouncing against Vince's short and waistcoat.

Vince moved his head away and put a wet kiss on Arthur's jaw. His voice rumbled. "Does it feel good?"

"Yes!!"

He seemed to thrust maybe a centimeter or so deeper. "Hm? Really?"

Arthur's head was tapping the glass. "Holy fuck yes!!"

"You like my cock in your ass?"

"Yes!! Oh ... oh yes I love how it feels!!"

Vince licked over Arthur's arm. Then he said with a laugh, "That's good, Honey, because I'm not stopping now."

Harder, faster, Arthur was wildly bouncing. The anal sex alone got him to have an orgasm that almost knocked him out. It shook his breath. It seized most of his muscles. Some of his toes stuck out from the rest, making odd shapes in his socks. His cock shot cum in an uneven flow, and Vince was keeping up. He bit Arthur's arm and held on as his own cock froze and his stifled voice seemed to give out.

They separated downstairs, but upstairs had a tight embrace.

Arthur's ass squeaked against the glass as he was allowed to slide down. His arm stung. Was that a hickey? Arthur groaned as he realized he'd have to wear long sleeved shirts for up to two weeks.

Vince tapped his shoulder and said with a quenched, dusky voice, "Let's go wash. Can't walk around all sticky."

He was right. Arthur took one of his hands and let himself be led to the bathroom.

But before Vince took a step to that bathroom, he used his free palm to smear some of Arthur's cum off himself. Then, without any change in his sleepy expression, he just slapped the mirror, leaving a distasteful glob near the hand and body prints on the smooth glass.

"Okay, that's just gross," Arthur said.

"I'm curious," Vince said as they stared walking, "how many notches have I lost on your Respect O Meter?"

"Way too much." Their feet were making tiny thumps in the bathroom. They were taking the clothes off their upper bodies.

Vince turned on the shower and held his slimy hand under the water as it warmed up. "I hope you'll get over that. You're stuck with me."

Arthur watched him peel the used condom away and fling it into a trashcan. He had fine aim. Arthur shrugged. "Well ... you're probably the cleanest gross man I've ever met."

They both tugged their socks away. Vince set his hair free and shook it like an animal. "You won't get an infection from me, I'll tell you that right now." He seemed to think the temperature was acceptable because he went into the shower.

Arthur followed. The water was warm. "Maybe you'll get a notch or two after a while." His eyes were following water drops gliding down Vince's skin and hair. Damn, he looked good!

"Does that mean you've gotten over the fight?" Vince was squeezing some body wash into his palm.

Arthur made an almost childish pout in his lips and looked down at the gathering water. "Maybe? I don't know. I think you really did something bad."

"But I had good intentions." Vince said as he made a batch of lather and reached down.

Arthur was quite startled. His own testicles were Vince's target. He didn't mind, though. He leaned into Vince and put his palms over his dark nipples. "Did you really?"

"Yep." Vince used his fingers and palm to lightly scrub him. It felt like heaven. Vince swiped Arthur's hair back and kissed his forehead. "I worry about you a lot. So I'm going to keep looking out for you."

"Well ... I ... hm?" Arthur whimpered a little as Vince carefully put soap around the base of his sensitive, worn out cock. "I guess it's better than getting beaten up a lot, right? But you need to be honest with me. I don't like being played around with like that."

"Don't worry, Honey." Vince kissed his cheek, then his jaw. "You're my number one priority."

***

The following morning was when it happened.

Later, Arthur learned that Vince had planned to do this earlier, before he'd apparently changed his mind and took Arthur off to the bright bedroom with the mirror.