Hearts in Chains

Makin' Up

     Joey's home was lavish, expensive. It was a large manor in the richest, most "sensible" part of the city. The part of the city that wasn't filthy and ridden with pot-holes, the part of the city the middle class liked to run to in order to make themselves feel superior to those they deemed beneath them.

     It was a special hide-away. One deemed only for those with money and in a position of authority, much like Joey's parents. His father, especially.

     The car they were in, a black on black Mercedes, pulled in front of a gate. The automated gate opened, allowing them to pull in. When the car came to a full stop, Joey was the first to get out the car. He quickly went inside the manor, not even taking the time to greet the maids or housekeepers.

     Joey went up the large staircase, heading straight up to his room. He was still upset about what had happened between him and Damien. Though, he also felt a surge of guilt and maybe even embarrassment for acting like some spoiled, deluded brat. He shouldn't have behaved that way, and truth be told, he'd have to apologize eventually.

     He just hoped it wouldn't be today. Or any time this week, as he didn't have the balls to do so.

     Joey began to take his shoes off, tossing them near his walk-in closet. He then removed his suit jacket, tossing it onto the edge of his bed. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face in a more tired manner than usual.

     Despite how much he believed he despised Damien, he really didn't. He could see that underneath that snark and that menial arrogance he showcased, he was actually a nice guy underneath. And despite Joey's tendency to be a conniving and somewhat apathetic person, he wasn't as bad as he let off.

     Though, that didn't take away from the fact that he was still upset with Damien. That he was irritated at how he'd made him look like a fool, at how he felt almost—beneath—him.

     The idea of being beneath, in every sense of the word, Damien made Joey's skin crawl beyond the urge of admittance.

     With a sigh, Joey decided he needed to shower; wash off all these disgusting feelings and set them aside for another day. And so, with hesitance, he stood to his feet and went to shower, trying to clear his mind of the events that unfolded earlier.

*****
The next morning..

Joey had gotten up early, much earlier than the rest of his household. He hadn't greeted his brother, or his mother, or his father. Hell, he hadn't even uttered a word to himself. He was too focused on yesterday and how he felt; a shitty, crappy and almost guilty feeling, really--had it not been for the anger that was still controlling his actions and emotions.

He'd spent all night thinking. And he'd come to the conclusion that he'd apologize, tell Damien that he was sorry for his childish, and quite honestly immature behavior he'd exhibited. A part of him didn't want to say that he was sorry, that deep down, he sort of liked Damien. Those sorts of ideas made him not wanna look at himself. It made it harder for him to be the stubborn, arrogant prick he always knew himself to be.

Joey started making his way downstairs, amidst his thoughts. His footsteps were soft yet firm, making a somewhat soothing sound on the grand staircase. It wasn't until he made it to the bottom, that he heard a sound. A knock on the front doors of the manor.

He stared at the doors for a moment, wondering if he should open answer. His eyes then wandered over to the watch on his wrist, a groan leaving his mouth with a taste of annoyance and mild irritation. It was much too early for anyone to be visiting at this hour.

With a slow and seemingly doubtful motion, Joey made his way to the large and elegantly decorated double doors, and reached a hand out to open one of them. He peeked his head out, his eyes widening.

"Damien?" Joey said, his voice small and raspy. "W-wha--" He began to stutter. That was something he never did. "Wha--what the hell are you doing here?" Joey had managed to ask, staring wide eyed at him.

There before him stood Damien, rubbing the nape of his neck anxiously. A soft breath had seeped out those snarky lips of his as he stared at the ground with the delicate brush of pinkish-red blush on his face from sheer embarrassment.

"I, uh, came to say that I--" Damien paused, thinking. He'd never had to look someone dead in the eye and inexplicably explain how moronic and selfish his actions prior to meeting them had been. It was a strange experience; one that made his heart thump harder than it ever had.

Joey gazed at him. The door had opened a little wider so Damien could see Joey in all his glory. The expensive attire, the subtle yet noticeable scent of the cologne he wore--it only made the experience tougher. The words Damien yearned to say got stuck in his throat when their eyes met.

"I..wanted to say that I'm..I'm," Damien bit his lip to keep from turning and running off. This wasn't like him. "I just..I came to apologize," he then said.

"You don't have to," Joey blurted out. "I should be the one apologizing." Part of him regretted saying that.

"Damn right, you should be," Damien mumbled under his breath, giving a slight frown. He was like a stubborn mule--extremely grumpy and stuck in his ways despite the desire to be better.

Joey gave him a quick glare, crossing his arms as he leaned against the front doors door-frame.

"Don't get sassy," Joey hissed, staring at him.

"Just sayin'," Damien muttered, kicking a small pebble.

"Yeah, well," Joey began to say before sighing. "I'm sorry," he then said, his gaze beginning to soften. "I was..acting like a dick."

"A real one," Damien added, giving him a teasing smirk.

"Shut up," Joey playfully nudged him, giving a small grin of approval.

Damien gave a soft chuckle, as he then put his hands into his pocket. At least that was over and done with now. Joey was in a better mood, and for once, Damien got to see the sweeter side of him instead of the jackass he had grown to know in this short matter of time.

The two went silent after a while, enjoying each others presence. They hadn't known each other for very long, but they seemed to take a liking for one another. They had more in common than they thought they did, that was for sure, even if neither of them would admit it.

Time seemed to pass by slower the longer the two stood next to each other. Damien watched the breeze blow through the freshly cut grass, while Joey's eyes stayed on him; observing him. His eyes glazed over slightly as they traced over Damien's features--his curly yet somewhat wavy black hair, those mischievous brown eyes of his, those somewhat girlish long lashes he had that seemed to curl subtly upright when he blinked, the look of firmness on his muscles, and how soft his skin looked, the tattoo's he had on his arms.

He hadn't noticed them before. At first, it seemed the only way Joey recognized Damien was by that disgusting sense of snark and the sort of prowl he had for dominance, the attitude he always had, and the familiar sass he showed around others.

But now?

Now, he saw him as something else entirely. A companion he'd been longing for, a friend he had began to wish for so he could tell him all his deepest secrets and desires, maybe even a lover he could confide in, a fellow trustee? All he knew was that he loved him, or at least--he'd began to. He had known from the beginning (yesterday) when he'd first saw him.

Maybe that's why he'd acted so crappy. So..mean and insensitive. That pride and arrogance he showed had come from the feelings he couldn't exactly express openly. The more he watched Damien, the more he felt the intense emotions in his body grow.

It was only a matter of time before the feelings he had boiled over to the surface and oozed out like a red pool of lava from a volcano or a bright and smooth waterfall.

And even then..

What will he do once that happens?