Chapter 9

Chapter 9 — Laundry Day

To be honest, Liam was only entertaining the thought of executing his revenge plan on his boss, but even before he had gone to sleep the night before the plan had solidified in his mind. And once again, the dickface is to blame for this.

Really, he is the one bringing all this onto himself. Liam likes to think of himself as a peaceful person (he knows this is not true deep down), but his boss particularly brings out the rebellious streak in him in the worst possible way. He honestly cannot care to think of the consequences his actions might bring him no matter how hard he tries to.

At first, he thought it's because he was tired and needed sleep that he's not caring, but no. It's morning now and he's fresh awake and the plan is still solid in his mind.

The reason for this: the string of text messages his boss left the previous night. This happened when Liam was helping his nephew to be rid of the itching powder from him. His phone rang incessantly despite him not answering. At first, he thought it was his mother, but usually she waits for him to get back to her after the first unanswered call. Unless it's something urgent — shit.

He left Claude in the bathroom, instructing to properly scrub every part of his body and rushed to the living room where he had left his phone. He scoffed in disbelief and got instantly annoyed when he saw who the caller was — DICKFACE.

He frankly didn't have the patience to deal with him at that moment, and also this way past working hours — what the hell did he want now? He put his phone on silent and went back to his nephew; he had actual children to take care of for the night, he cannot deal with the man-child.

He only managed to reach his phone about an hour after he's settled his niece and nephew in their beds, cleaning the living room in case there were any spilt itching powder and after Katie left. His mother had called him, only once though, probably to check up on him and his sister and the kids, unlike the unbearable man of a boss he had who had called him three more times — it was a good thing he left his phone on silent. He is sure he would have smashed his phone otherwise.

Of course, it didn't stop his boss from saying what he wanted to say since Liam didn't pick up his phone. He had left him a number of text messages.

Taking in a deep breath in a very much feeble attempt to calm himself, Liam opened the messages. He reminded himself to keep breathing in and out slowly as he read through the messages.

—

DICKFACE :–

I called you

Why didn't you pick up?

Isn't it rude to not pick up the phone when your boss calls you? And I thought you were all about ethics and manners.

What I wanted to tell you is this: Tomorrow before you come in, I'm going to need you to pick up my dry cleaning — I'll share the address with you.

[location attached]

—

Liam should have ignored the text messages and gone to sleep — he knew he should have, but he didn't. He left a reply.

—

LIAM :–

I will be coming in a little late then — I'm not taking off my own time to pick up your laundry.

—

Okay, maybe he should have left out the last part, but he was tired. Not expecting an instant reply from his boss, he sent out a text to his mom, apologising for not getting her call and promising that he would call her tomorrow. He saw that he has a couple of messages from Jason as well and opened them, but just as he did, his phone buzzed in his hand.

Dickface had replied.

Rolling his eyes, he ignored him for a little while. He read Jason's messages first and replied to them, and then begrudgingly went back to his boss's messages.

—

DICKFACE :–

Yes, I understand. With all your porn surfing, you must have not enough time as it already is...

I need them by noon. We have an important meeting with Edwin again — the one we missed last time.

LIAM :–

I. DO. NOT. WATCH. PORN.

DICKFACE :–

Sure

—

Liam didn't understand what this man's problem really was. And why was he still texting him? And why the fuck was he replying? Huffing, he went to the thread of messages he shared with Jason — the guy he wouldn't mind to be texting with, but of course, he wasn't available right then.

He didn't check his boss' messages after that. He was done with him for the day. He spotted the bottle of itching powder from the corner of his eyes; he meant to throw it away, not wanting the kids to get their hands on it again, but it seemed like he might have found a use for it after all. An evil smirk climbed up his lips and Liam went to sleep with a new plan hatched in his head.

Which brings Liam to now: a rather cruel revenge plan all full-formed in his head and waiting to be executed. He won't lie; there is a small part in him which is not very sure about what he's to do, but that part is very, very small. Easily neglectable.

Maybe he won't have gotten through it after all, but ironically, it's the to-be-victim of his plan who actually reminded him that he should do it; that he has more than enough reasons to do it.

Liam gets more messages in the morning as he gets ready to leave.

—

DICKFACE :–

Did you get the address?

Did you get the message?

Where are you? Why aren't you answering me?

Are you watching porn?

—

"Oh-oh,"

Liam has to tear his eyes away from his phone and sees his mother standing before him, looking at him mixed with suspicion and concern. She has come to pick up the kids.

She raises her eyebrows an inch, "Everything good?"

Liam grits his teeth as he replies, "Peachy," He calls out for the kids and sends them out to his mother, who still hasn't removed her gaze from him, "I'll be back by 5, okay,"

He goes to close the door but Anne stops him, "What's going on?"

Liam shakes his head defiantly, "Nothing. I'm good. I just have to leave for work,"

"I know you and I know that look,"

"What look?"

"That crazy look you have going on right now,"

"What? Pfft," he scoffs, shaking his head, "There's no look going on here — crazy or not," he circles his own face with a finger, and then points away at the kids who has gotten already into her car, "Go on. They're waiting for you. You guys are going to be late,"

Anne shakes her head, sighing, "Just... please whatever you do, take a minute to think about it, okay,"

"Okay, okay," he nods, and places a hand on her shoulder, turning her around, "I'll see you later," and closes the door behind her.

It's not that he won't listen to his mother, it's that his anger is something that's impossible to be reasoned with. And so, even though his mother's words are echoing in his head over and over again, he makes sure to bring along the itching powder with him to work.

Dickface is really not going to know what hit him.

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Liam makes his way to the dry cleaners before going to his workplace which is basically on the other side of town. Once he walks in, he gives them his boss' name and phone number, and collects his clothes. Liam instantly knows that his dickface of a boss has purposely planned this out.

There are about six suit jackets, thirteen pants, and twenty shirts. He has to walk to the car twice, carrying all his clothes.

He gets in the backseat of his car and grabs all of his boss' pants, taking one at a time, unfolding them neatly. He leans forward and grabs the bottle of itching powder he has kept in the glove box. Carefully opening the lid and making sure to not spill any himself, he starts sprinkling some powder in the crotch area, and then presses the cloth together to rub it in a bit and be rid of any lingering evidence. It looked as good as new once he was done.

Liam would have stopped with only one pants, but what's the guarantee that he is going to wear that pair of particular pants out of all thirteen? He repeats the process with all the remaining twelve. It took him almost an hour to be done, and it's meticulous work really, but very much gratifying. Liam smiles to himself gleefully. He carefully screws the lid back on the bottle and keeps it away — he should personally thank Katie for this, although she probably (certainly) didn't buy this gift for this intent.

As if on cue, Liam's phone rings. This time Liam is not even half as mad when he sees who the caller it and answers it.

"Hello?"

"Where are you? Why aren't you here?" curtly straight to the point — Liam doesn't know why he expects anything else from him.

Rolling his eyes, Liam gets back in to the driver's seat, and starts up his car, putting his phone on speaker, "Where am I? Did you not tell me to go get your clothes from your cleaners? Where else do you think I am?"

"Well, how long is that supposed to take you?"

"As long as it takes. Or you can come pick it up yourself," Liam doesn't know where he gets his bravado from — he is sure if he were working under anyone else he would have gotten fired by now for speaking back so rudely.

But not with Aaron, for some weird reason.

And Liam really should stop taking advantage of it, and be a proper employee.

He spots the pants via the rearview mirror in the backseat of his car — okay, he will be a proper employee after this one day.

"I'm on my way," Liam tells him, trying to siphon out whatever calmness he can find in him, "What do you want me to do with your clothes?"

"Burn them," he quickly reconsiders his words, and adds, "Wait, no. I won't put it past you to do that,"

Liam feels the corner of his lift up in a small smirk — he will do it given the chance.

"Bring them up. I need it for my meeting,"

"It's a meeting, not a fashion show. I'm not lugging everything up for that. Just tell me which one you want and I'll bring that one up for you,"

"Fine," he grudgingly accepted, "Bring me up my black suit,"

"They are all–," before Liam can even complete that sentence, he has already hung up, "–black. Dickwad,"

It takes Liam another half an hour to reach his office building and he picks out the first black suit and pants he can find with a white shirt. He's not going to play dress up with that guy and pick out the best suit out of all them; he can wear whatever he wants. Although Liam thinks the man can wear only a sack and will probably pull the look off.

He shakes his head at that thought, cringing to himself. What? He's a dick, a jerk and an asshole. That's all, and that's all he'll ever be to him.

Fortunately, he spots Jason at the reception desk and sighs out a relief. He can relax a bit talking to him before having to inevitably face his boss. Jason smiles the second he sees Liam and Liam falters in his step for a bit — he has to remind himself that Jason is only a friendly co-worker, emphasis on the friend.

"Hey,"

"Hey," Jason inserts his hands into his pockets, and hunches his shoulders forward a little.

Liam doesn't know if he did that intentionally or not, but his arm muscles strain against the material of his shirt at that and wow — that guy for sure works out.

"Aren't you late today?"

"Yeah," Liam nods and lifts the suit draped over his arm, "Had an errand to run before I came in,"

"Right," he nods, "So, see you later?"

Liam sucks in his cheeks a little, wondering if he should ask him or not, and then decides, fuck it, he will ask him, "Lunch?"

The smile that blooms on Jason's lips is more than enough of an answer, "Okay, lunch. Call me,"

They part ways after that and Liam walks down the hall, past his desk and to his boss' office. As if he has been expecting him all this while, his eyes are trained on the entryway and Liam feels as if he's been caught. He can't know what he's done to his suit already, right?

"Got your dry cleaning," he lifts his arm a little showcasingly, "Where do you want them?"

Aaron does not remove his gaze from Liam for a few long seconds and the latter fidgets lightly under his gaze. It is never comfortable to be under someone's eyes for more than a few moments.

Eventually, he does look away, and Liam feels like he can finally breathe free. He nods at the sofa by the door and returns to typing something on his desktop.

"Do you need anything else?" Liam asks him, placing the clothes on the sofa.

Aaron does not remove his eyes from his computer as he says, "There are a couple of things that need scheduling. And there's a grand opening for the club we've been working on in three weeks. You need to attend with me,"

"Oh?" Liam nods unsurely, "Um, what day is this on?"

"You can find all the answers in your emails," he says dismissively and by that tone, Liam knows he should take his leave.

Just a moment ago, he was growing uncomfortable under his gaze but now that he is speaking without sparing him even a passing look, Liam is annoyed — mildly.

He does not care if he looks at him or not, he really doesn't. He's Dickface.

Liam goes to his desk and sits on his chair, breathing out heavily. The day has only started and he is feeling more than worn out.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees Aaron stand up from his chair and walks to the sofa which is incidentally placed right near the window that separates his desk and his boss' personal office. Liam doesn't mean to look at him, but he does anyway.

He is wearing a light blue polo t-shirt which contrasts against his dark skin but suits him well nonetheless, and a pair of jeans that hangs low on his hips. He starts taking off his t-shirt and that's when Liam realises that he's going to change into his suit and he should look away. He knows that. He is not a creep.

But he can't.

That man might be a real dickface but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a fit body. Liam can already feel his mouth feel salivating just by looking at him. Again, he reminds himself to look away before he is caught staring, but does he do that?

No.

There's a knock on the window and only then Liam looks up and as presumed, his boss is smirking down at him. Cheeks aflame, Liam quickly turns away, cursing himself mentally.

He is supposed to be hating him and he won't even mind if he was plotting his death plan right then. But what the heck is he even doing?

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