When Jamie returned home that evening, and the entire home was spotless, he invited Joe to the bar. As he was working a late night shift, he promised Joe free drinks in condition that there would be no manager present. Fortunately there wasn't and Joe was not only excited of seeing the regular crowd, but free drinks were always a bonus.

When they arrived to the bar, Joe was instantly swarmed by his old pals and they all greeted him warmly. A few offered beer, which Joe offered back, and Jamie did give Joe all free drinks. Jamie was sober but watching slobbered Joe walk across the bar to continuously return grabbing drinks as amusing. It had been four days since they started living together and Jamie was growing accustomed to him.

His coworker nudged him, wiggled his eyebrows and asked, "Who are you looking at?"

Jamie grinned, not realizing that he had been staring at Joe for that long. The funniest thing was that when their gazes met for a second, Joe raised his hand beside his ear and waved, but his attention was diverted by one of his friends. That had made Jamie chuckle as he wiped down the counter. "Joe, he's a friend."

"Oh," he frowned, taken aback. "I thought you were looking at the girl behind. How's Bridgette doing?"

He noticed the way Jamie's wiping began to slow down. After a short pause, in a tight tone, he stated, "She's fine."

His coworker raised an eyebrow, bemused. "What do you mean? Just fine?"

"Craig," his eyes narrowed, his voice deepened and his jaw clenched terribly hard. "How many times do I have to tell you to let it go for you to let it go?"

Craig chuckled, lifting his hands defensively as he stepped backwards away from him. "Fine, I won't ask about her."

It was near the end of the night when Jamie noticed Joe and his friends being approached by a group of girls. He had been serving other customers and accidentally poured beside the glass, murmuring a few apologies as he wiped down the counter and continued his pour. But he was unable to tear his eyes away from them, seeing the ladies tilt their heads and giggle while the group of men, including Joe, eyed them hungrily. It was obvious their minds were running wild with lustful thoughts, and Jamie wondered if Joe thought them too.

They were all in their older ages, wearing revealing clothes and he scoffed when Joe glanced at a few lowered shirts that  displayed huge breasts. The air surrounding them grew steamy, each of the ladies catching their prey, one catching Joe's attention and stepped in front of him. Conversations turned into flirting, the glances turned into winks and he watched as one of the girls settled her palm on Joe's chest while bitting her bottom lip.

Joe drunkenly reached around her waist, his hand roaming right on the line of her skirt and his fingers were reaching lower by each minute. It was not long until both of them, drunk, began chugging glasses of beer that Jamie was no longer handing freely and when Jamie saw Joe lean in for a kiss, he had to look away. It was apparent Joe was having a blast, his hand cupping one of her butt cheeks underneath her skirt, unconcerned of glances he received from nearby customers.

He appeared completely enthralled by this woman, his face close to hers while they spoke, as if they were whispering dirty secrets to one another. Jamie continuously glanced elsewhere, acting as if it had not occurred. But something in his stomach made him unable to withstand it and when a glass bottle fell onto the floor and shattered, he knew he had to head home.

He went to the staff's room, snatching his belongings and stormed towards the exit. He was going to ask Joe if he wanted to head home, but when he returned to the front, that group had left. The worse was that Joe didn't even have a phone.

His apartment was empty when he returned and although he was unsure as to why, he felt his fingers quivering and struggled to maintain his composure. It was only after a warm bath that he had been able to calm himself down and made himself snacking foods to enjoy while he waited for Joe to return.

Joe did return, in the late hours of the night. When Jamie heard him tussle with the lock, he unlocked it for him and once the door opened, Joe stumbled forward and crashed into Jamie's arms. It was three in the morning, Joe letting his entire weight be carried by Jamie as he was dragged inside the home. The first thing he noticed were the sticky noises from Joe's shoes when he stepped and Jamie pulled him against the wall.

"Can you hold on to the wall for a second? I need to take your shoes off." Joe watched as Jamie knelt down, releasing the laces before slipping them off. His eyes had been stuck in the way Jamie's fingers had fiddled with them, and he gulped when Jamie glanced upwards, eyeing him before pushing himself to his feet. There had been something with that angle that had made him feel flustered. "I'll have to throw your shoes out in the morning."

"Master Jamie," Joe chanted charmingly, slobbering his words as Jamie lead him towards the bathroom. "Do you need me to clean something?"

"No." From the way his tone has sharpened, it was clear Jamie was not in any playful mood. "Let's get you cleaned up and headed to bed."

A smirk stretched Joe's lips. "So I do have to clean something. Myself?"

"Joe, we need to talk in the morning."

There was a pause and when Jamie glanced towards Joe, he noticed the way his eyebrows had curved in worry. "Why," Joe had sensed the hostility and immediately stopped in his steps. "Why do you look...angry?"

It wasn't that he was angry, it was more so being annoyed but regardless, confronting a drunk person was never the greatest option. "I'm not mad—"

"Yes, you are." Joe raised an eyebrow, his drunk mind tilting him to the side that Jamie had to squeeze his shoulder to make sure he didn't fall. "I wasn't even home, what have I done?"

In attempt to avoid this conversation, Jamie rapidly shook his head and lowered his gaze. "Nothing, let's just get you cleaned up—"

"Jamie," Joe chuckled impatiently, "it's been four days we've lived together and you can't tell me when you're angry?"

Jamie narrowed his eyes, clenching his teeth together for a second. "You're an annoying drunk."

The deflection caused Joe to throw his hands in the air. "Just tell me what's wrong—"

"That girl was all over you," he snapped, suddenly shoving Joe against the wall. It hadn't been hard but with Joe's state, he practically slammed his back against the wall, needing a moment to recuperate.

It wasn't enough for Joe to understand what was going on, and instead he chuckled. "I know? I'm gay, I don't go for girls."

"You live with me."

Another silence intensified the air around them. It had even grown humid from the sudden tension, both of them challenging one another's gazes. After a pause, Joe raised an eyebrow. "Where's the correlation? I live with you so girls can't find me hot?"

Jamie extended his hand towards Joe, motioning for him to grab on so they could head to his bedroom. "Whatever, let me help you get to bed."

"No, Jamie," he retorted, rejecting his hand. "Tell me what's going on?" His droopy eyes had widened slightly, but it appeared more sober than he actually was. "I live here thanks to you, so I want to prevent anything that's making you upset—"

"I don't like seeing you giving attention to other people Joe," Jamie exploded, grinding his teeth for a moment before adding, "All those people are gross. That girl was touching you all over your chest and you were giving attention back. You were making out with her right in front of me."

The disgust in his tone had made Joe inhaled a sharp breath. Jamie had even curled his lip, as if it was the nastiest thing he had seen throughout his entire life.

"That bothers you?"

He turned away from Joe. "Yes."

"Why does it...bother you?"

"I don't know it just does."

"Are you...secretly in love with me or something?" Joe asked bluntly and that made Jamie scoff.

He said, "Of course not." From the way his gaze reconnected with Joe's, not even a hint of nervousness or being flustered, it was clear that he was telling the truth.

That only made Joe even more confused. "Then why can't I make out with who I want—"

"Because I'm your owner. I own you."

He hadn't expected that answer, bursting into a series of laughter although he felt a sudden fury burn in his stomach. "Don't say that, you don't own me. I work for you but you don't own me."

"Well I hope you don't own yourself because your life is a complete mess. No job, divorced, no parents, not even a grandmother that likes you. To the point that you were willing to do anything I said just for a place to stay." Although Jamie felt a sudden distaste in his mouth when he said that, he was beyond reason, unable to stop his anger from expelling onto Joe.

Joe's mind seemed to have sobered up instantly the moment Jamie said those words, a blank stare covering his features. "You're purposely hurting me. Why are you saying those things?"

He even appeared to be on the brims of tears and although Jamie felt guilty, his mouth couldn't move to apologize. He was unsure how to respond, attempting to find the words but not in time for Joe who turned away, shaking his head. "Whatever, I'm just going to leave."

"No, Joe—"

"Thank you for letting me stay here for a few days." His gaze had lowered and he shoved his hands into his pocket, heading for the front door.

He struggled to walk in a straight line, a bit slower than usual and Jamie took advantage of that, stepping in front of him in attempt to stop him. "Joe, listen—"

"Stay away from me." The way his voice had deepened with such rage, even trembling as he gritted his teeth right away, peering into those blue eyes that had undermined him. Thus, he stepped aside, allowing Joe to leave his apartment, slamming the door behind him.