This will be the end

Of late, Samuel and Rémy had been arguing more and more. However for the most part they had kept the arguments behind closed doors, neither of them wanting this part of their private lives to be gossip around school.

Sam was starting to get too possessive of his boyfriend. And while he trusted him, Sam failed to trust a great many boys that would talk to him. Most of them attractive and strong boys who could try and use their strength against him, forcing the French teen to do what they want.

Let it not be said that Sam wasn’t a slave to completely irrational fears.

Sam had once again dragged Rémy away from a party. Scowling over the steering wheel, he was driving them back to his house, knowing his mother was out, and as they had been drinking on a Saturday he thought better of being under the influence of alcohol on campus grounds.

He continued to be silently jealous while driving.

Rémy was not exactly a social butterfly, despite being so high up in the social ladder. The only drinking he enjoyed was a glass of wine with food, certainly not in excess like other teens. In addition, he found the music to be far too loud and the dancing to be questionable. He wasn't fond of most of the people who frequented the almost weekly parties, however, since he had begun to date Samuel he found himself in attendance much more than he ever had been. Though, the first few times he had noticed he was becoming something of Samuel's handbag. Always at his side and very rarely wandering off with others. Nowadays he branched out a little, trying to find common ground with some of the less drunk people.

Feeling proud that he could now start conversations and keep them going without them fizzling out, he engaged more frequently in them. Leaving Samuel to drink with his jocks. On occasion, he was too swept up in the conversation and the occasional drink to realise he was getting what might be considered far too chummy with other boys. Of course, he felt nothing of this sort for anyone but Samuel, so he disregarded any moves one might make. Samuel however, did not. So once again, he began to feel like a handbag being snatched away from others and dragged out of parties. He hated making scenes and he loathed the wide eyed stares he got as Samuel dragged him through hallways and into his car.

This would be the last time he would get away with it. He had let him drag him without a fuss, slinking into his seat and folding his arms, slowly putting together what he wanted to tell Samuel. He still loved him, very dearly, but he would not tolerate this kind of behaviour. It was strange, it was so sweet how protective he was of Rémy, but it began to feel less like concern for Rémy's wellbeing and more like a bitter mistrust. He glares at the dashboard, letting his eyes flick over to Samuel every now and again.

Samuel soon pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine.

He was angry. Everyone at the school knew he was with Rémy and yet they still continued to flirt with and touch him. The first time he caught someone doing it, he broke their nose which had resulted in a 2 week suspension and almost cost him a soccer match, so now e'd just angrily drag his boyfriend out of the party. Unfortunately taking out his frustrations on him, which ultimately was a bad habit he picked up from his father.

He sat in the car silently for a long moment, trying unsuccessfully to calm down. Finding that sitting there in silence was only making it worse he got out of the car sharply and slammed the door shut, clenching his keys tightly he paced slightly for a moment then headed to the front door, unlocking it roughly then stormed inside. Slamming the door hard enough for it to open up again.

Rémy made no move to leave the car as Samuel stormed toward the house. He flinched as the door slammed and looked down at his hands in his lap. He hated this. He hated it when Samuel drank, he hated it when he got jealous and most of all, he hated it when he lashed out at him. He tried to pretend that he wasn't bothered and that he could shrug it off and move on, Samuel had a knack for saying the most harsh things when he was mad. However, they were just words, right? Even if he shouted them and even if the volume of his voice made him nervous, he would never purposefully hurt him, right?

He wasn't sure why he was asking those questions, or how he could answer them. It was begining to get offputting, the fact that he felt as though he needed to question this. It was almost as offputting as Samuel's behaviour. He really shouldn't be so worried about getting out of the car and following him, was that really the basis of a sound relationship? He felt his heart wrench. He didn't want to break up with Samuel. He loved him, he wouldn't be able to bare being alone again. He needed to be around Samuel to be happy. This was the conclusion his mind had come to.

With a reluctant sigh, he slipped out of the car seat and out the door, shutting it quietly and standing still with his hand on the knob. Shaking his head, he turned to walk up the pavement, his head hung low as he watches his own feet. He didn't know why this made him so nervous, he swore his hands were shaking as he opened the door and wandered in.

Samuel stomped up the stairs to where his bedroom was, and swung the door open hard. If not for the coat hook on the back that held some of his jackets, he would have at least dinted the wall.
He fumed in the centre of the room. Seeing one of his soccer balls lying at the side of his bed, he took a run up and kicked the ball as hard as he could, sending the ball hurtling against the wall and out the door. It came to a spinning stop in the spare room.

There had become a pattern to Samuels outbursts, and it had all boiled down to him being not only an angry drunk, but also being fairly aggressive too.
Without a drink, Samuel’s jealousy would normally go no further than just keeping closer to Rémy and generally being more inclined to touch and kiss him.
1-2 would have him approaching anyone he thought was hitting on his boyfriend and intimidate them.
3-5 was where Samuel would either physically abuse the interloper or just drag Rémy out and berate him loudly for not letting people know that he was Sam’s and was not interested in anyone else.

Sam had had more than five drinks tonight.

“The fuck is this!?”

Sam roared, as far as he knew still alone in his room. He wanted to scream and yell at Rémy, however even he was aware that he was being a bit much.

Almost as soon as he walked in the house, he could hear Samuel smashing about upstairs. Would he notice if he didn't come up? Maybe he should give walking home a try...but Samuel's neighbourhood was not exactly friendly at night. With a small sigh, he began to trudge through the kitchen, looking at his feet again. Maybe he should wait until he has calmed down. He looked at the couch, thinking it appears very tempting. With a shake of his head, he turns to the stairs, looking up them in time to hear the smash of a soccer ball. Rémy cringed and froze in the spot, having to will his legs to move up the stairs. He hated having to deal with this, he was not good at handling others, especially not when they're as loud as Samuel.

He crept through the halls, knowing exactly where Samuel's room was but taking his time to get there, giving him a little more time to steam off. He reached the door way and poked his head in Samuel's room, only to hear him roar in anger. He widened his eyes and took a step back. He was used to the occasional raised voice and shove at another person but to roar like that...Rémy felt even more nervous as he watched Samuel in silence. He opened his mouth, but he couldn't seem to speak.

Samuel grumble to himself for a moment, then upon realising that Rémy wasn't trying to talk to him in anyway, he turned to go looking for him. It didn't take him long to see him by the door.

"Oh? So y'here? Well what the fuck was that!? Why are y'letting faggot's like him touch ya?! Y'fucked in the head?! Y'my boyfriend Rémy! Start fucken actin' like it!"

Samuel stomped angrily towards Rémy, intent on getting in his face.

While he could see that Rémy was with out a doubt incredibly nervous about being here, the taller teen just couldn't help himself, he was just so frustrated and at a loss that people continued to try and interfere with the smaller teen, despite their dating being common knowledge at the school.

He was Rémy's boyfriend, they should all know that. He just couldn't understand why everyone kept trying to take the other away from him.

He wasn't going to allow something as undignified as a whimper to escape his lips, but he felt the urge rising and his throat twitching to make noise. He began to shy back away from Samuel, unable to meet his eyes so they were locked on the carpet. He backed away as Samuel approached him not wanting to feel even more intimidated. Too focused on looking down, he bumped backward into the wall behind him, the shock causing him to jerk his head upward and make eye contact with the other.

He was begining to feel less saddened and more frustrated as Samuel proceeded to yell at him. He was not flirting with other men, and he had not let him touch him. He was not fond of being touched, but after a few drinks he was just a little less rigid. Afterall, Samuel could wander about throwing his arms over his team mates shoulders and would rough house around with them. Rémy did not mind, he knew Samuel was only playing around and that at the end of the day he belonged to him. Samuel did not seem so satisfied with this. He dragged Rémy to parties with people he didn't know and would always make a scene if Rémy wasn't in his lap the entire time.

"I do act like your boyfriend!" He yelled right back at the taller man, practically hissing like a cornered cat. "It is you who treats me like shit!" His voice just keeps getting louder, he's not sure if that's really his voice coming out of his mouth, he doesn't usually yell so loudly. "You embarrass me in front of our friends! You drag me to parties and don' let me talk to anyone! You scream at me and drag me around!" He stops to take a deep breath. "I. AM. SICK OF IT."

"You're sick of it?! I'm fucken sick of it!"

Sam pointed roughly at Rémy, he swayed slightly as the alcohol in his system was enough to cause the normally sure footed teen to sway, which only seemed to fuel his anger.

"Do you think I like th'idea of those fucken...Guys pawin' at'cha?! I should fucken hit them all!"

He narrows his eyes.

"Or you should, or has hanging around Jeremy the sassy-fucken-wonder made'cha all girl and no grits? Why do you only yell at me!?"

His posture getting more aggressive by the minute, his hands balling up into fists.

He was just so angry, angry at everything.

He scowls down at the finger being pointed at him, starting to lose his grasp on the gravity of the situation. 'Don' point at ME. If you're 'fucking sick of it' zen break up wizh me, go on!" He swats at the hand, not feeling like taking it.

"It does no' matter of zey 'paw at me' I am no' going out wizh zem and I am no' going to go 'ome wizh zem to fuck zem, zey are no' you! It should no' matter!" He's starting to get fueled on his rant.

"But no! You canno' take zat! You 'ave to act like a fucking spoilt brat, and make me look stupid in front of everyone and zen you 'ave to take me 'ome and make me feel even worse!" I won' allow it any longer!" He gives the other a defiant look.