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Lawrence was sitting on his couch and waiting, eyes glancing back to his Patek Philippe wristwatch for what had to be the twentieth time already.
He’s not back yet.
His fingers drummed on the armrest, his eyes on the large flat TV screen in front of him, but he hadn’t paid any attention to the movie for the past half an hour or so.
His irritation was growing with each passing minute. He had been patient enough. He knew he’d have to get pissed with Jake, but he hadn’t expected he’d be so fucking ballsy as to lie to his face and tell him he’d be back before midnight.
It was five minutes past midnight already. He glanced at the clock again. Six minutes now, he thought, grimacing and standing up from the couch, walking up to the kitchen. Lawrence had always despised weak-willed people who drowned their sorrows in alcohol, but he decided he would pour himself just one glass of Springback whisky to soothe his nerves.
After retrieving the key and unlocking the cabinet door, Lawrence took out the bottle and briefly checked to make sure the level hadn’t declined since the last time. He wasn’t too worried, since Jake wasn’t the type to drink in secret, but a few of his previous boyfriends would sneak into his liquor cabinet and down his thousand-dollar spirits as if it was lemonade.
He remembered one of them even had the galls to fill his vodka back with water as if he wouldn’t fucking know what happened to it. Martin fucking McKinnon, an ungrateful bastard who thought he could do whatever he wanted because he was a model and was used to getting away with being a spoiled little bitch. He’d made him pay, of course, and eventually he’d figured out it was a waste of time to keep bothering with him so he’d kicked him out of his house and cut him off from all his finances. Then he’d made a couple phone calls to make sure to send his modeling career down the drain as payback for being such a leech.
He got one of his whiskey glasses on the counter, then went to the freezer to get out a large ice cube from one of the bags. He dropped it in his glass and looked at it closely. Despite his irritation, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he saw how clear the ice was. So Jake had learned to follow his instructions.
Well… sometimes, at least. He frowned again, filling the bottom of the glass with the amber liquid before putting the bottle back in its place and locking the cabinet. Better safe than sorry.
Taking the glass with him, he marched towards his living room again to turn off the TV, then he walked out to the balcony, unconcerned about the slight chill of the night. He stared at the street, waiting to see Jake’s car approaching the gates, and took a small sip of his drink. The smooth, rich taste was a nice temporary distraction, but it could not take his mind off from his growing anger.
I thought I had been clear enough.
Apparently that hadn’t been the case.
Apparently Jake still didn’t understand that just because he didn’t say that he couldn’t do something it didn’t mean it was acceptable for him to do it.
He should have known that Lawrence wasn’t actually okay with him going out with his friends. As if he hadn’t made it clear that he disliked those people, especially that loud-mouthed bitch who never seemed to mind her damn business. The one who had called him an arrogant jackass in one of her texts, who even dared to tell Jake he should dump him. Farah Latoya Williams, a fellow coworker who stopped waiting tables to write articles about "social justice" and "intersectional feminism" and all of that snowflake bullshit for one of those edgy alternative media outlets. Clearly the kind of woman who had her head full of all sorts of ideas and far too much confidence that they were even remotely worth sharing. He wouldn’t have bothered even spending two seconds paying attention to her if not for the fact that she was clearly an enemy to take out if he wanted to get anywhere with Jake.
He could just imagine that cunning bitch arguing that “Lawrence can’t control you” and that “you don’t need a curfew when you’re a grown ass man”. He knew she was one of the reasons why Jake was testing his patience, because he’d read the texts they exchanged. It wasn’t his fault if his boyfriend couldn’t be trusted not to be influenced by his shitty friends, after all, he had to look out for him, and that meant he couldn’t let him have too much privacy. He knew that Jake had hesitated about going out that evening, that he knew Lawrence wouldn’t like it, but that bitch had filled his head with all sorts of nonsense about how his boyfriend shouldn't expect him to put their relationship above Jake's friendships, about how his jealousy was "unhealthy" and "unwarranted", about how he was always so controlling, etcetera etcetera.
Narrowing his eyes at the thought, Lawrence took another sip of his whisky before glancing at his watch. Thirteen past midnight. Are you trying to piss me off, Jake?
He'd already planned to let him have a piece of his mind as soon as he got home. To make him regret his decision of spending his first free weekend in months with his friends when it was clear that he should have been spending it with his damn boyfriend who was letting him live with him and not even asking for a cent – also because, really, it would have been laughable when he had a ten figure salary and Jake made, what, ninety-thousand per year? And that was including tips.
Now, however? Now he was going to make sure Jake paid for his insolence. For not even bothering to keep his word. Not that it would have been acceptable even if he had, but the fact that he was being so blatantly careless, it made Lawrence wonder if the other man was actively trying to piss him off. Or maybe that bitch that buzzed around him was.
It was clear to Lawrence that he had two pressing matters to attend to, if he wanted to keep Jake around.
Firstly, get rid of Miss Williams, either by convincing Jake to stop hanging with her or by outright sabotaging their relationship. It wasn't going to be easy, because she was the kind of woman who was unusually perceptive and quick to get suspicious, and she already seemed to have decided that he was a bad fit for her friend... really, it was his duty as a boyfriend to get such a bad influence away from his partner, and she was the one who had tried to sabotage their relationship first, so who was the controlling jackass there?
Secondly, he had to get Jake to leave his job. He doubted it would be too hard, after all he was always complaining about how hard it was and how he never had some proper free time since he had to work extra hours on weekends and holidays. Unfortunately, Jake was hesitant to stop working because it had taken him so long to get to his current rank and he was working in a high-end restaurant – that was where Lawrence had met him for the first time – and he kind of enjoyed it even if it was hard work, and also because that damn tampering bitch of his friend insisted he had to be independent and that he wouldn't feel comfortable becoming “some kinda bored housewife”. As if it was any of her damn business. So really, the sooner he got rid of her annoying presence from Jake's life the easier it would be to make him understand that he should just let Lawrence take care of him and all he had to do in exchange was to learn to listen to him and trust him to know what was best for them both.
Five more minutes had passed and Lawrence had almost finished his drink, when finally he heard and saw Jake's car approach the front gate. Swishing the last sip of whiskey around in his glass, Lawrence glared at the black Mercedes as the gates opened to let it in the driveway, before turning and walking back inside.
He went downstairs and waited by the door with his arms crossed, allowing the anger that had festered inside him to rise back to the surface. Nothing like a good heated argument to show Jake how much he'd regret doing something that he knew Lawrence hated, and that was just the start. In some ways, really, an argument was the perfect form of communication. If there was one thing Lawrence was good at, it was winning arguments, or at least use them as a means to an end to get exactly what he wanted.
Once he finally saw Jake's silhouette through the textured obscure glass of the door and heard the click of his key as he opened it, Lawrence's entire body tensed and his dark brown eyes glared coldly at him before he could even do as much as take a step inside.
In a matter of seconds, he saw Jake's smile falter and disappear as the shorter man froze up, clearly noticing his anger.
“L-Lawrence...” he said, his lips curling up again but it was forced, unnatural, and they both knew that it was a farce so he didn't bother to keep it up for long. “Look, I'm sorry that I'm late, I just-”
“You just didn't care,” Lawrence snapped at him, sneering and emptying the rest of his glass before slamming it down on the nearest surface – careful not to slam it too hard – and stomping away.
“Lawrence!”
Jake ran after him, of course. Lawrence didn't even have to hide his cold smirk, since his back was turned. He made his way towards the large staircase, with Jake following and trying to grasp his wrist. Lawrence immediately slammed him away, hard enough to make him trip and fall.
“Don't touch me!” he snapped at him, his face twisted into a mask of fury. “I've been waiting for you all this time-”
“It was just ten minutes...”
“It's half past midnight!”
“I'm sorry! I didn't- I got stuck in traffic...”
“Then you should have left sooner!”
Lawrence stomped upstairs, with Jake following him all the way up to the living room. This time he didn't try to touch him, just stared at him as he threw himself on the sofa and turned on the TV, visibly ignoring him.
“Lawrence... don't be like this, please. I didn't mean to be late, I swear, I... it's just, it's been so long since I last saw everyone and...”
“And you care more about them than about your boyfriend,” Lawrence coldly replied, tensing up even more and shooting him a cold glare. “The first fucking free weekend in months and you'd rather go out and... what? Get drunk? Go out partying?”
“I didn't- we were just talking and yes, we were at a pub but I didn't drink! I told you I wouldn't drink so I didn't!”
“As if I can believe you.” Lawrence let out a humourless laugh. “You also told me you'd be home before midnight.”
“I'm sorry! I know, I know I was wrong, but- but I swear, I didn't drink at all, and we didn't party, we were just catching up.”
“And this catching up was so important you couldn't even call me, not even text me and let me know you were leaving, at least, so I wouldn't be here worried sick-”
“There was no need to worry! I told you I didn't-”
“How the fuck would I know, Jake?!” Lawrence stood up and yelled, his face flushed in anger. “I can't fucking trust you! I knew I couldn't! I wanted to, really, but I guess you're just another lying slut,” Lawrence's words turned into a furious hiss, and he enjoyed the way Jake's pretty face crumpled at the insult. “Bet you were laughing behind my back, you and that friend of yours!”
“Lawrence, I wouldn't!”
“Oh, but you would. I know you're always fucking shit-talking me with her!”
Jake opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, then his expression changed into an almost affronted one.
“You... you've read my texts?”
Lawrence sneered again.
“Of course I fucking read your texts. Why, you don't want me knowing about how much of an ungrateful bitch you are? I let you move in with me, I'm paying all the bills, I've booked a trip to fucking Paris for our anniversary and never once have I asked you to give me a single cent-”
“That-” Jake was clearly taken aback, but he still tried to cut him off, something that he knew Lawrence hated. “Those conversations are private!”
“You are my boyfriend! Nothing is private!” Lawrence snapped, yelling even louder and slamming his fist against the wall. Then, his lips curved up into a humorless grin. “Why, are you keeping secrets from me? Is there something you don't want me knowing?”
“That's... that's not it,” Jake hurried to say, looking around and sitting down on the armchair with a sigh. “Look... it's not that I don't want you to... I... it's normal to want to have a private conversation with a friend.”
“Is it?” Lawrence replied, narrowing his eyes at him. “Why? So that you can keep secrets? Talk trash behind my back, maybe fuck behind my back too?”
“I wouldn't-” Jake clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes as well. He was a pretty little thing, with blue eyes and light reddish-brown hair, and freckles all over his milky skin. Even when he frowned like that, cheeks flushed and frustration written all over his face, he still somehow managed to look beautiful. “Is... is this still about you thinking I've fucked her?”
“How do I know you didn't?” Lawrence replied, shrugging and spreading his arms in a theatrical gesture. “Is she your type?”
“I...! We're just friends! We've been friends since school! Just because I like women...”
“Is that it? I'm not enough for you?” Lawrence strode up towards him and slammed his arms at each side of him on the armchair, enjoying the way Jake cowered in front of him. “You've grown tired of my cock and now you're looking for some side pussy?”
“That's- that's not fucking it! God! You're so paranoid...”
“Ah so now I'm paranoid? Are you saying I'm crazy? You fucking lie to me, you insult me behind my back, you jump at the chance of spending time with your friends rather than having a nice evening with your boyfriend and I'm the crazy one?” Lawrence laughed sarcastically and walked away from Jake, throwing his hands in the air. “Guess I'm crazy for caring about our relationship.”
“That's not what I- ughhh!”
Jake groaned loudly, rubbing his face with his hands.
“Look, I'm not saying you're crazy, I just... I care about my friends too, and I want to spend time with them sometimes.”
“It was the first free weekend you've had in months,” Lawrence replied drily. “I thought you'd want to spend it with me, but... oh well, I guess I'm not important enough.” He laughed bitterly. “Not as important as your dear Farah.”
“For fuck's sake- you told me you were okay with it!”
“And you believed it?” Lawrence's expression changed into a disdainful one. “You know I don't even like those people.”
“Then why did you say you didn't mind?”
“Because you'd get all bitchy and complain behind my back to Farah and then she'd tell you some sort of bullshit about me and you would believe her because she can't do anything wrong, apparently.” Lawrence threw his hands in the air again and went to sit on the couch, glaring at the TV. “Curious how she's always telling you shit about me and you don't bother to tell her off, but the moment I dare and call her a bitch for acting like one you jump to defend her. For someone who goes on about how toxic I am she's certainly no saint. I've never once told you I don't want you being friends with her even if I don't like her, but she can tell you all about how you should dump me and somehow she's not controlling and jealous?”
Jake looked like he was about to say something, but he had the decency to blush and look away.
“I... look, she's just looking out for me. I've been in a few bad relationships...”
“I know this, Jake. You really think I would do anything to hurt you?”
Lawrence's expression in that moment was something he mastered over the years. A perfect mixture of defeated, saddened and offended all at the same time, followed by a loud sigh.
“I guess you just can't trust me, huh... after all this time, after all I did for you... you still can't let your guard down around me. Am I so difficult to deal with? Am I really being so unreasonable?” He brought his hands to his face, as if to hide tears. “I... I guess it was too much to expect... I've done nothing but dote on you, I've taken care of you, I've gone out of my way to adapt to your schedule so that we could spend more time together... but I'll never be good enough for you, because your so-called friends can't approve of me.”
“That's- no!” Jake hurried to say, getting up and climbing up on the couch to reach him, trying to hug him while Lawrence pushed him away. “No, Lawrence, that's not true! I-I trust you, alright? I know it's... it's been hard for you, adapting to my schedule, and I know you don't like my friends, but...”
“Is it too much to ask, that you spend some of your free time with me?” Lawrence asked, lifting his gaze towards him, eyes red as if he'd been crying. His face was dry, but he'd rubbed his knuckles against his eyelids enough to irritate his eyes. “Am I not interesting enough? I'm sorry I'm just a 'rich white male', I guess I didn't go through enough hardships, I guess I'm not worthy of being with you because I've 'never struggled once in my life'?”
“Lawrence!” Jake pulled his hands away from his face and forcefully hugged him. Lawrence could feel that his eyes were wet as he pressed his face against his neck, and he immediately knew he was winning. “I...I'm sorry, I... I didn't know you would be so upset... of course I want to spend time with you, I just.... I want to spend time with all the people who care about me, but I guess.... I guess I should have... talked about this more. I guess I shouldn't have assumed you were okay with it. I really thought you would be alright, and- and I swear I didn't mean to be late, I'll... next time I'll make sure to leave early.”
“Oh, so that Farah can tell you I'm being unreasonable?” Lawrence replied in a bitter tone.
“No, I-” Jake sighed, lifting his head and looking up into his eyes. “Look, next time I have a free weekend, I'm booked. Alright? No matter what Fa... what any of my friends say, I'll spend it with you. Alright?”
That was a promising start, but of course it was not enough. Lifting his gaze towards Jake's, Lawrence looked at him sadly.
“You wouldn't need to wait for the next free weekend if you stopped working,” he told him, lifting his hands in a surrendering gesture before Jake could retort. “Look, I know you're not comfortable with just, staying at home for now, but... I'm just saying, if you were to, you wouldn't need to stress over having enough free time. And it's not like you've got anything to prove. I know you can work hard. I don't mind taking care of you. I just want us to be together, I want to spend time with you, I want to bring you places... wouldn't it be nice to have some time to just be lazy together?”
Jake sighed again, looking away from him.
“I... I know, I mean... it's not like I haven't thought of it but... I've just worked so hard to get here, you know?”
“I understand, and I'm proud of you, but... there's nothing bad about staying home and letting your partner take care of you. Or you don't think I would? You don't think I care about you enough? Is that it?”
“I...” Jake bit on his lip, looking down. “It's complicated...”
“It really isn't,” Lawrence replied, smiling at him. “All you have to do is trust me. Can't you trust me? After all this time?” He frowned. “At least tell me you'll think about it?”
Jake looked back at him and sighed. “I... alright, I will think about it, okay? Not- not saying I'll leave my job! But... if you give me some time...”
“Yeah, I don't want to pressure you or anything,” Lawrence easily lied. “I just want to know you're thinking about it, like, seriously thinking about it. Alright?”
“Yeah...”
“Okay. So, you won't make me worry like this ever again, understood?”
Jake nodded, looking rather embarrassed.
“I won't.”
“And you won't talk shit about me behind my back?”
“I won't... but you'll stop snooping on my chats, right?”
“It shouldn't matter if you've got nothing to hide, right?” Lawrence insisted, and Jake sighed.
“Alright, I won't be talking shit behind your back, so you won't have to check up on me, okay?” he replied. “I'll tell Farah to lay off and stop telling me to break up, alright?”
“Alright,” Lawrence said, beaming at him. “You love me, right?”
“Of course,” Jake said, holding him tightly. “I'm sorry for making you worry...”
“Just don't make it a habit, alright?”
“I promise I won't.”
Lawrence kissed him fiercely and then held him, face pressed against his shoulder.
He felt how tightly Jake was holding on to him and grinned. He knew that, this time too, he had won.
He would get him to leave his job, he was sure. And maybe, if he was cunning enough, he'd get him to ditch that bitch friend of his too.