[Seedful]

Remy finished spilling his breakfast into the toilet and closed the lid before flushing, passing a shaky hand across his sweaty forehead. Three days in a row now that made, where he'd woken up nauseous and aching. If this was the so-called stomach flu, it sucked ass. 

Sighing, he straightened up and went to start on the dishes. Had to get at least those and the laundry out of the way, and then wipe down the kitchen and clean the bathrooms (especially the one he'd just fouled) before lunchtime because his boyfriend Sebastian might come home for lunch and if he saw the counters still had toast crumbs (that he himself had left there this morning) he'd flip out and throw Remy into a wall again. The memory made him wince; the bruise on his back was still ugly and only beginning to heal. It was slow going getting started, though; just getting near the sink seemed to overwhelm Remy with the smell of last night's dishes and had his gorge rising yet again. He could mentally hear Sebastian mocking him----'what a fucking pussy! What are you, some knocked-up bitch? What do I even keep you for if you can't keep the place clean?!' He'd get slapped around for that for sure, and then Seb would laugh and drag him into the bedroom. Depending on how much he'd got done, he might or might not use lube. 

He got those finished with only a few more rounds of gagging and was right in the middle of wiping down the counters (lemon bleach-spray was tolerable by comparison to old dishes) when someone knocked at the door---instinctively, Remy froze. 


((I'm looking for the visitor to either be Sebastian returning, or a kind neighbor who will eventually help Remy escape his abuser.))