psst,, how bout you write some eakolds
Right when George Eaker walked in the door he knew that something was terribly wrong. It wasn’t just that it was three in the morning and he was supposed to be home four hours ago. It wasn’t just that Reynolds was sitting in the living room glaring at him rather than sitting in his smoking room getting drunk. It wasn’t just that there was some broken glass on the floor. It wasn’t just that his clothes were a mess. Almost all of these things were completely normal for Eaker’s life with Reynolds. He was home late and Reynolds was pissed about it so he threw a tantrum and broke some shit and now he’s gonna yell at him about it. Pretty normal Reynolds behavior.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? What did I specifically tell you when you left the house? Huh?! What the FUCK did I say?!” He shouted, still remaining relatively calm and sitting down. Eaker rolled his eyes, shut the front door, and dropped his backpack on the ground. He picked up one of the not so empty bottles of whiskey and took a swig. “I’m not fucking joking this time, Eaker! You scared the fuck out of me! Again! I’m pretty sick of this bullshit you pull every time you go to work!” Reynolds snapped, standing up and taking the bottle from him. He threw it against the wall and let it smash. “Now… Explain yourself.”
Eaker sighed and walked to the kitchen, starting to make the coffee. It was three in the morning after all, and sleep was a hopeless venture. While Reynolds continued to yell at him he studied his features for the millionth time. His hair was black, but shaved off. Not completely though, it was that buzzcut sort of hairdo. Eaker frowned that he hadn’t shaved yet. As much as he loved the way Reynold’s five o'clock shadow tickled against his face when they kissed, it wasn’t professional for business deals. But then again, Reynolds barely did business deals this time of year. It was Winter. But Eaker worked 24/7 year round.
Reynolds eyes always seemed to go a shade darker of brown when he was pissed off. Nowadays, when Eaker worked all the time like this, he wouldn’t be able to remember a time when Reynold’s eyes were ever their usual caramel color. He was currently wearing dark grey sweat pants and the top part of his usual maroon colored suit. Eaker looked back at the coffee and poured himself a cup, taking baby sips in order to not burn his tongue.
“Are you listening to me?! At all?!”
His voice sounded desperate, and maybe that was what threw Eaker off. He looked up and set his coffee down. “No I zoned out I’m sorry please repeat everything you said.” George mumbled. Reynolds took a shaky breath and stepped closer to Eaker.
“How fucking angry do you think I am, huh?!”
“Pretty mad I guess-”
Reynolds grabbed Eaker and pinned him to the counter, knocking his coffee over and spilling it. Some of the coffee got on Eaker’s back and he winced at the scorching pain of it. Reynolds shouted in his face, “I’m not fucking around Eaker! How pissed do you think I am?! How fucking angry do you think I am?! Tell me!!” Eaker’s eyes were wide with fear and he struggled to get an answer. There were times when he was like this. When Reynolds was a threat to Eaker’s physical health. These times happened more often nowadays. Nowadays when Eaker was working himself too hard.
Eaker mumbled quietly, “A-Angry.. Furious..”
“Now,” He growled, “How fucking paranoid do you think I was?! Were you walking down the alley ways selling your angel dust and just fucking laughing?! Thinking about how fucking scared I was?! How scared do you think I was?!”
“V-Very scared… very worried…”
Reynolds’ nails dug into his arms and Eaker winced at the pain. His hoodie sleeves were rolled up because of how hot it was in the house. He had rolled them up before coming inside, knowing it would be a sauna rather than a well conditioned home. It was silent between them as Reynolds glared down at him. Eaker kept his eyes closed, afraid to meet his glare. Eaker was used to getting yelled at by his boyfriend who was also his boss. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still scared and worried for what would come next. Sometimes Reynolds would yell and storm off for the night, sometimes he would yell, huff, and let it go, and sometimes he would keep yelling until…
“How do you think I felt when I got a call from Maria saying that an anonymous drug dealer was, was m-murdered in the same area that you were selling?”
Eaker opened his eyes and gasped. Reynolds had tears pouring down his face. His grip got tighter and he sobbed. He was stuttering and his lips were quivering.  Reynolds mumbled, “How do you th-think I felt… when Maria called me… s-saying you wouldn’t answer your, answer your phone…” Eaker could only stare in shock at his lover’s expression. He had never seen the man so broken and scared looking. His body was trembling as he stuttered even more.
He whispered, “How much do you think I sobbed when… when I called everybody I knew in that area… and they s-said… they said they c-couldn’t find y-you…” Reynolds broke down in sobs and pulled the boy close to him, hugging him tight. He rambled off I love yous and apologies for yelling at him, which he had never done before. Eaker stayed silent, but did wrap his arms around him.
“Hey…” He whispered, catching Reynolds’ attention, “I wasn’t in the downtown area… I heard about the police in the area because of the murder and went uptown… I’m so sorry I didn’t check in first, I know how you get about me not doing tha-”
Reynolds grabbed his face and smashed their lips together, pinning him to the counter once again. He pulled away and sobbed, “I DON’T CARE THAT YOU DIDN’T CHECK IN!!! I THOUGHT YOU DIED, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!!” Eaker stayed quiet and took Reynolds’ hand, squeezing it gently. Reynolds intertwined their fingers and whispered, “i don’t wanna lose you too… I’ve lost so many people to this cruel world… to this cruel me… I can’t lost you too. I can’t do it again. I can’t attend another fucking funeral… I can’t meet somebody’s glare and know that it’s my fault they left…”
Eaker whispered, “I’ll always be alive for you… No matter what cost…” He whispered. Eaker glanced at his backpack and the pistol that was poking out of it. He closed his eyes and remembered Philip Hamilton’s dead body downtown, laying in the alley way where he had tried to cheat him of the scheduled drug deal.
 “I’ll always stay alive for you.”
