𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑|𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

Jeremiah Maybank sometimes chose to believe that he was born just to satisfy Rafe Cameron's insatiable desires. That he served no other purpose than to be his punching bag and toy that he would throw away whenever he got bored. Jeremiah hated when his thoughts would travel to such places, for then he would be forced to pull himself out of the gutter and smile at everyone who approached him, pretending as if those same lips that smiled at everybody didn't have sobs escaping from them every single night. But if people knew, if they knew just how damaged he truly was on the inside, then they would write him off. Yet another Maybank man on his way to disaster. Why did anyone ever believe in him in the first place?

Jeremiah tossed and turned in Rafe's bed, a sudden sensation of chills overtaking him despite the scorching hot sun that blared down on his skin. The Maybank boy slowly opened his eyes, the first sight he was met with was his boyfriend's sleeping body beside him. Jeremiah could feel his stomach bubble up with envy, wishing he was as peaceful as he was right now. But peace was a word that had been eliminated from his vocabulary, for Jeremiah couldn't pinpoint a time when he had felt true peace within his life. Whether it was fighting off his abusive father, wasting nights of his life studying to go off to college and finally get the burden of being a Maybank man off his shoulders, or dealing with Rafe and his abusive tendencies, Jeremiah learned that if he wanted peace, he was going to have to fight for it. But he never fought for it, for why would he? Fighting earned him nothing but heartache and bruises, so if he was going to be forced to drown in nothing but turmoil and anguish, then that was how he would live his life. It's nothing he wasn't used to anyway.

"You're always awake so early," Rafe uttered, his eyes slowly peeling open as he draped an arm around Jeremiah's waist to pull him back down to lay beside him once more. And so the anguish began. Jeremiah flinched at the contact against his body, remembering that he was completely naked from their session the night before. Yet another night when Jeremiah gave in to Rafe and acted as if there was truly nothing wrong in his life. "Ever heard of sleeping in?"

"I couldn't sleep," Jeremiah replied, shrugging his shoulders as he rolled out of bed and put on his shirt which was sprawled right beside him on the floor. "Plus, the thunder from the storm kept me up all night."

"Shit, I forgot all about that," Rafe grabbed his phone from the counter, most likely checking over his messages. Jeremiah frowned, that familiar pang in his heart causing for him to quickly glance away and grab his phone as well. When he saw that there was no service, a frown took over his lips as he soon realized that there was a chance that JJ didn't have any service either. Great. On top of Rafe being a jackass early in the morning, he couldn't even speak to his brother, the one person he had been wanting to speak to since last night. Only he couldn't, for he was too busy trying to make Rafe feel good. Because that's all Jeremiah could seem to care about. Rafe Rafe Rafe.

"You hungry? I can make breakfast," Rafe offered, handing Jeremiah his pants. Jeremiah shrugged his shoulders, not really in the mood to speak to anyone besides JJ, who was all the way on the other side of the island while he was in his boyfriends mansion with everything he could ever need surrounding him. Jeremiah felt his heart clench in his chest as he continued to check over his messages, hoping that service would miraculously return and he could send a text to his brother, letting him know that he was alright. "Alright, I'll take that as a no."

"No, no," Jeremiah shook his head, shutting off his phone, a small smile forming on his lips. "Sorry, just got a little distracted. Breakfast sounds good; thanks babe."

"Mm," Rafe hummed, pressing a quick kiss to Jeremiah's lips before pulling on his own clothes as well. "You got any plans today, baby?"

"Maybe I'll hang out, go back home or some shit, I don't know," This was how their mornings together usually went. Rafe would pretend to care for the first couple of hours a day, allowing for Jeremiah to open his heart and truly believe that things were turning around for the better. That was until it was noon rolled around where Jeremiah's heart would shatter into itty bitty pieces, pieces that he tried so hard to pick up and repair together but couldn't seem to do so. "My house probably looks like hell from the hurricane."