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?"
