Page 24 of Havoc
Lawrence responded with a thumbs-up emoji and finished eating his lunch. After throwing away his trash, he took pain medicine, pulled up his emails, and responded to a few. He had another meeting in an hour and a half. This time, he would be leading it and had to move around. He was hoping for a bit of relief before then.
Lawrence walked into his apartment, locking the door behind him after work. His back was still sore, but he figured he would soak in the bathtub before bed later.
Entering his bedroom, Lawrence removed his shoes and placed them in the closet before tossing his tie over the empty hook on his closet door. He returned to the living room and sat on the couch, turning on the television. He figured he’d catch up on a couple ofepisodes of shows he tended to watch over the weekend but missed.
Lawrence had finished one episode and was five minutes into the next when there was a knock at his door. Pausing the television, he got up and went to it. He looked through the peephole before pulling it open.
Remy paid the cashier for the Chinese food he’d ordered twenty minutes prior. He took the food bag and left the restaurant, sliding back into his car and pulling out of the parking lot.
Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking area, grabbed the food bag, got out, and locked the door behind him. He entered the building, stepped onto the elevator, and rode it to the third floor.
When Remy reached the door he was looking for, he knocked. He only had to wait a moment before it was pulled open, and Lawrence stood there with an eyebrow raised at him. Remy smiled at him before leaning in and kissing him softly.
“I thought you may be hungry,” he stated, holding up the food.
Lawrence took a step back and gestured for him to enter. “I’m not going to turn down food.”
Remy walked in and went to the dining table while Lawrence went into the kitchen. He pulled the different food containers from the bag, placed them in the middle, and opened them. Lawrence returned with two plates and silverware in one hand, and in the other hand, he held two wine glasses and a bottle of wine.
Remy took the glasses and bottle from him, placed the glasses down, and opened the wine while Lawrence put the plates on the table.
Once seated with food on their plates and wine in their glasses, Remy took a few bites of his food before sparking up the conversation.
“How’s your back feeling?”
Remy didn’t miss how Lawrence cut his eyes at him before answering. “Better than earlier, but it still hurts a bit.”
“I’m sorry. Next time, tell me I’m being too rough.”
He did feel bad that he’d hurt him. He wasn’t a selfish lover by any means, though his actions during sex at times could seem contradictory. All Lawrence had to do was tell him he was being too rough and hurting him, and Remy would have backed off. If he’d told him he was hurting before he left, Remy would have given him more aftercare.
“You weren’t too rough. I just haven’t been on the receiving end in a while. Let alone that much in a short timeframe.” Lawrence took a drink of his wine. “It’ll be fine after a bit.”
Remy considered what he said, and he knew Lawrence was right. Once he got used to it, he’d be less sore each time, but it wouldn’t go away completely. It was negligence on Remy’s part not to think that was a possibility. He assumed since Lawrence was a switch he bottomed as much as he topped. It seemed he’d been mistaken, and he should have asked.
While they ate, Lawrence told Remy a few stories about him as a teenager and what he’d envisioned himself doing growing up versus what other people—or at least the women in his family—thought he should try to do. Lawrence wanted to go into sales, which he had, but they thought he should try his hand at modeling.
Remy could see it. Lawrence was pretty and had a look that would appeal to those who’d see him in ads, but he’d always been a believer in going for what you wanted, not what others thought you would have been good at. Remy also told him stories of growing up in Haiti until he left for college and decided to put down roots.
Once they finished eating, they washed the dishes, and Remy decided to leave the leftovers for Lawrence. Lawrence asked Remy if he wanted to watch a movie when they finished. It was barely eight, so Remy took him up on the offer and allowed Lawrence to choose.
Halfway through the movie, Remy ended up with Lawrence’s head in his lap, one hand lazily playing with the short curls, his other hand running up and down Lawrence’s side.
Lawrence sat up and stretched when the movie was over, wincing a bit. Remy stood, pulling Lawrence up with him.
“Why don’t you soak in a bath, and when you get out, I’ll massage you.”
“That sounds nice if you're going to behave,” Lawrence responded. “Make yourself at home. I’ll try not to be too long.”
“Take your time.”
Remy’s first meeting the following day wasn’t until nine-thirty. He'd be fine if he made it there in the morning by nine. And it wasn’t quite ten yet.
Once Lawrence had gone to soak in the tub, Remy went to his car. He grabbed the bag from his backseat before going back inside. Remy locked the door behind him and entered Lawrence’s bedroom at the end of the hall.
He opened the diffuser he’d bought and placed the batteries in the back, adding the lavender essential oil, removing the bottle of water from the bag, and filling it. He’d decided when Lawrence texted him earlier about his back hurting that he’d give him a massage and help him relax. He then removed the warming massage oil and placed it on the bedside table beside the diffuser.
Turning the lamp on, Remy turned off the overhead light. He’d thought about getting some candles, but this massage wasn’t supposed to do anything more than relieve some of the pain in Lawrence’s back.
