Wild with all regrets, p.6
Wild with All Regrets, page 6
“Sorry.” Lucas’s body was reacting, and he felt like he was flying.
It didn’t take long for them to work out a rhythm, soft little pecks turning into something deeper, hands roaming down chests. It felt good. It felt right. Nothing Father Doyle had ever done to him had even come close to this.
The first few times felt like daring trysts—they’d hide and kiss, giggle, taste each other for as long as they could stand before venturing out into the light once more. It was fun, but it was getting a bit old, to be honest. Kissing was all well and good, but Lucas wanted to show Danny the incredible pleasures he’d learned of far too early.
It was after school hours on a Friday, so there was no chance of them being disrupted. Danny was smiling, blushing, and pulling Lucas closer in the closet so their bodies were flush. Danny seemed to like that, the warmth that passed through their clothing as their machinations intensified. Lucas took a step back and started to undress himself, his skin dimpling in the chilly night air. His hands shook as he opened his belt, grabbing Danny’s hand, guiding it lower—please, fuck Danny touch me, come on.
“What are you doing?”
They were a few feet apart all of a sudden, Lucas tried to catch his breath. “What do you mean?” They were gonna fuck, right? That’s how normal people did it, wasn’t it?
Danny’s eyes were wide. “This. We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s a sin.”
Lucas choked back a laugh. A sin? A goddamn sin? Christ, the whole thing was a scam, right? The church had taught him everything he’d ever needed to know about getting fucked up the ass. Told him he was made wrong, told him they could fix him— he— nothing ever felt right, he did his best and— of course he was going to hell. Of course he was.
“Says who?”
“Says Leviticus! Says the church! Says my pa and those boys who just—” Danny put a ginger hand on Lucas’s fingers. “M’sorry, Lucas. We can’t.”
Lucas shook his head. “Go, then,” he said, eyes narrowing as Danny scuttled out of their hideout. Goddamn it. He’d never asked to be like this, he didn’t want to ache for other boys, nor enjoy this sort of attention. He just wanted to be normal. Wanted his family to be glad he was there.
Lucas trudged home alone, hands in his pockets. His father was passed out, his mother was tending to Jessie. Lucas curled up on his little cot and tried to sleep. Danny’s bruised face came unbidden to his mind, the way his lips had felt, the gentle way he’d nipped at Lucas’s neck. He willed himself to ignore the blood rushing between his legs and scrunched his eyes shut.
I’m going to be normal, he decided. I’m not going to be like this anymore.
Lucas awoke the next morning with the crotch of his pajama pants wet, sticky, and cold. He rubbed his temples and shut his eyes. Being around boys wasn’t helping. He wasn’t getting better; he was just getting worse the older he got. No, something needed to change, or Lucas was always going to be broken.
He made his way to the kitchen and found a full bottle of whiskey his father hadn’t opened yet, miracle of miracles. He stashed it into his jacket and ran from his home, eyes peeled for someone— anyone— a woman, obviously, who might . . .
He slowed to a stop and approached a woman one of the corners with her hair pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. Her eyes were kind. She cocked her head at Lucas, who was obviously a bit young to be after her services. “What you want, boy?”
Lucas licked his lips, deeply ashamed all of a sudden. No, this was important. He had to do this. He bloody had to. He reached into his coat and pushed the bottle at her. “I want to fuck.”
She scoffed. “I don’t fuck for a bottle of whiskey, love.”
“Can I look, then? Can I touch?”
The woman rolled her eyes, flicking some of her cigarette ash into the street. “Fine. Five minutes.”
He followed her into the alley, his anxiety spiking. C’mon Lucas. You need to do this; this is what normal men do. You wanna get beaten bloody again?
The hooker hiked up her skirt and Lucas’s face crinkled with discomfort. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but a matt of curly hair wasn’t it.
“Go on love, get a peek.” She was opening her blouse too, her heavy breasts pale in the dim light of the alley. He reached out and gave one of them a squeeze, recoiling when her nipple firmed up beneath his grip. Ugh.
Her smile softened, and Lucas glowered at her. He wasn’t bloody here to be adorable.
“You’ve not been with a girl before, yeah?”
“ . . . So?” Lucas spat, resisting the urge to run off. “I’m only young.”
“So you are.” She cupped his cheek, and his skin crawled. It wasn’t like this with Danny. It felt so right with him.
“Come closer, sweet.”
He sank to his knees and moved his face nearer to her genitalia, face crinkling as the stale stench of urine assaulted him.
“You wanted to touch, right?” The hooker moved her hand between her legs and parted her lips for Lucas, a wet little rose of flaps and hair and— Lucas got to his feet and bolted away from her as fast as he could. She was repulsive—she —he couldn’t. What the hell did men see in women?
Maybe it was the age difference. Maybe a girl in his class would be better. Cathy, perhaps? She was pretty; the boys liked her. He imagined pushing her up against a wall, imagined cupping her budding breast and . . . there was Danny’s stupid lovely face. Lucas slapped himself and tried to think straight.
God fucking damn it.
1914
Jamie hadn’t really liked living in the university dormitories very much, and his father was the one who floated the idea of buying a flat for his son to use in the city. Of course, Jamie saw it as an opportunity to get Lucas out of his somewhat difficult home life.
John had pulled Lucas aside before the purchase was finalized.
“I wanted to thank you, Lucas. For being such a good pal to Jamie since he moved to Dublin. I think your friendship has really meant a lot to him.”
Lucas swallowed. He doubted John would feel that way if he knew the aching desire that lay dormant in his heart. “Of course. Jamie means the world to me, too.”
“I think since he left home, he’s been struggling a bit. I wonder if law school isn’t quite agreeing with him. It’s a lot of pressure, surely. He can be a bit of a sensitive sort.” A fond smile.
“Sensitive?” That word had never been used about Lucas, rather uglier words encompassing his preferences for men.
“He feels things easily. Passion, excitement, loneliness. I’m not sure what it is, but something’s . . . different, somehow. He doesn’t seem enthusiastic about school anymore. I worry about him.” John took off his glasses and cleaned them. “But you should see him when he talks about you.”
Lucas did not let his delight show on his face. “Yeah?”
“He lights up. It’s like when he was a wee boy. ‘Lucas did this, Lucas did that, you should have seen Lucas give that bloke what was coming to him!’” John smiled. “He loves you. Adores you. I don’t know what he’d do without you.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without him, either.” He cleared his throat, blinking. “Thank you, Mr. Murray.”
“So. And please feel free to say no, but I was planning on buying Jamie a little flat. Something away from the dorms, where he can relax and focus on his studies. I was wondering if you might want to be his flatmate?”
Lucas was too stunned to speak.
“I just felt it would be good for him to have his own space— or rather, a safe space he could share with someone he loves and trusts. Just think of it— you’d be out of that difficult neighborhood, you could spend every day together, keep his head straight, it’ll be grand.”
“But Mr. Murray, with all due respect— I don’t think I could afford—”
“Hush, lad. I don’t want to hear one more word about money. Consider it a gift. Maybe you help out around the house a little, mm? Save me the trouble of hiring a maid for the boy. God knows I don’t want to worry about my son getting the help up the duff.”
Lucas hoped very much his cheeks didn’t go red. Mm. Suppose maybe he finds another convenient outlet for such urges? Christ, Lucas could dream.
Initially, Lucas was conflicted about sharing a flat with Jamie. He felt he couldn’t leave his family to fend for themselves. But his two surviving brothers were just about old enough to help support their mother and sisters, and both were happy to let Lucas go and live his life a little. He’d done enough for the family. It was time for him to have some peace and happiness.
Lucas couldn’t really contribute toward the house’s expenses like Jamie could. His salary wasn’t high enough, not to mention the fact that he was still sending nearly all of his wages to his family to help keep them fed and clothed. But he contributed in his own way; Lucas was happy to do the chores so that Jamie could spend much of his free time studying. Jamie, of course, had the nicer bedroom, and only his name was on any of the legal documents.
John came to check on them about a week after they’d moved in.
“Boys? You settling in okay?”
Jamie practically bounced down the hall to greet his father. “Brilliant, Papa. I love it here; I only wish we’d thought of it sooner! Thank you so much, honestly. I promise to always be filial and lovely to repay you for your generosity.”
John chuckled and fluffed Jamie’s hair. “You’d better. Lucas? How are you, son?”
Something warm and deeply pleasant resonated in his soul at the kind words. “I’m great, Mr. Murray. I can’t thank you enough.” Lucas bowed his head.
“Oh Lucas, come now.” John touched his shoulder. “You’re doing me a great favor. I can rest a lot easier knowing my boy isn’t going to be getting into trouble.”
“Pshh! We get into plenty of trouble, don’t we Lucas?” Jamie hooked his arm around Lucas’s neck and pulled him close.
“Oh yes, we are the midnight stallions of debauchery and truancy,” Lucas deadpanned. “Mothers lock their doors when they hear we are out and about.”
“Fantastic.” John chuckled. “Well, I’d best leave you to it then, eh? I brought you some food from your mother; she’s apparently a bit worried you might starve to death. Take care, boys. You know how to reach me if there’s trouble.”
It was a pretty decent flat, all things considered. Within walking distance to the university, a single master bedroom and a servant’s room, a quaint little living room with plush couches and chairs and enough books to keep Jamie busy for years, and a good-sized kitchen with a gas stove. It overlooked a park, which was a tremendous novelty for Lucas. He loved being able to lean out the window and see something green and alive—he even liked the way the air smelled. He went to bed warm and woke up without shivering, his clothes didn’t reek of mildew since the house was dry and clean—not to mention that for the first time in his life he could have a wank in relative privacy. It was heaven.
Lucas had a little routine which he enjoyed a great deal: every day, he’d wake up early and go to the nearest local tap to get enough fresh water for them to use in the morning. He’d quickly wash his body, shave, comb his hair, and then move right along into preparing breakfast. Jamie ended up paying for most of the food, which didn’t really bother Lucas as much as he’d been expecting. He made up for it by doing most of the cooking and making things that Jamie liked—he’d even gone down to the library a few times to look up different recipes to play around with.
Lucas wasn’t used to such a diverse pantry, and it took a few tries before he was a half-decent chef.
“Well?” he asked, plopping some vegetables onto Jamie’s plate.
“Perfect. Lovely. As good as mum’s, but don’t tell her that.” Jamie winked and tucked in.
It didn’t really matter if he was just putting on a show for Lucas. Jamie’s enjoyment of his food had Lucas practically walking on air.
Jamie would often get woken up by the sounds and smells of a fresh breakfast being cooked, and they’d eat together each morning before heading off to school or work.
“Oi! Lazy bones get down here! Some of us have jobs to get to!” Lucas called.
“All right, all right, keep your tits on,” Jamie grumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
Lucas resisted the urge to press a kiss to Jamie’s forehead as he sat down to eat. “Your hair looks like shit, by the way. You need to brush it, or no one will take you seriously at uni.”
“Yes, Mother.” Jamie said with a smile. “This is delicious, by the way. What do you call it?”
“Ah yes, a grand recipe passed down by my ilk for generations. We call it: ‘toast and butter.’ Truly, the food of kings.”
They’d head out of the flat together as much as was possible. Lucas’s income was unsteady, unpredictable, and his hours were worse still. He’d dropped out of school too young to be picky about what kind of work he did and took any jobs that were available for the most part. It wasn’t anything too horrific, certainly better than hooking had been, but that didn’t mean he liked it at all. Digging ditches, construction work if he was lucky, coal transportation; nothing glamorous, but honorable in its own way.
Lucas had gotten home early one day, having been laid off from his last job after injuring his hand. Some asshole hadn’t been paying attention, let his wheelbarrow loose, and it caught Lucas against a wall, crushing his palm. All the money he had in the world was sitting on the table in front of him, and he was straining his eyes trying to imagine how he was going to stretch it out to feed his family this month. Maybe they boys had found some work, maybe he could take up hooking again but—Christ, Christ, what was he going to do?
Jamie came home at the usual time, arms laden with books. The house was dark and the stove was cold. “Mm? Lucas? Where’s supper?”
Lucas’s eyes snapped up at Jamie, his mouth tight. “I didn’t bloody have time today.”
“Oh.” Jamie seemed taken aback. “What’s the matter? What happened to your hand?”
Lucas cradled the appendage to his body. “Work accident.”
Jamie sucked a breath past his teeth. “Looks painful.” He reached over to touch it, but Lucas snatched his hand away.
“Lucas, we need to get you to a doctor.”
“I can’t afford a damned doctor. Can’t work. Got laid off.” He put his head in his good hand.
“Oh, Lucas, that’s dreadful. Let me take care of it, pal. You can pay me back if it’d make you feel better.”
Lucas hated accepting gifts for nothing, and Jamie knew it. “S’too expensive. Need to look after my family first.”
“Lucas . . . ” Jamie put a careful arm around his shoulders. “You’re always looking after me. I want to help you this time. Please.”
As ever, Lucas agreed. After all, he had never been any good at saying no to Jamie.
The doctor was rough and careless as he did his examination. He seemed to be making a point of not making eye contact with his patient, preferring to address all of his concerns to Mr. James Murray who was clearly Lucas’s better. Lucas had broken two of the bones in his hand, but nothing seemed displaced; apparently, it’d heal fine. The doctor forbade him from working for eight weeks, which Lucas feared was a death sentence for his mother. Jamie, bless him, sent some money to the wee Connollys during this difficult time. Accepting his help was humiliating, but Lucas had no choice. Jamie’s heart was in the right place, and that was all that mattered.
Time passed, Lucas’s hand healed, and life settled into something comfortable once again. More often than not, though, Jamie would come to Lucas’s workplace of the moment and walk home with him at the end of the day.
“So, we started our unit on criminal law today!” Jamie folded his hands behind his head. “Jesus, Lucas, some of these criminals are masterminds. Some of them, well, not so much. We were reading about this one case where a man was found hiding in a woman’s wardrobe, right? He claimed he’d gotten lost in her flat!” He giggled. “How on earth does that happen? He lived across town! The court thought it was ridiculous, of course. Oh, and there was a—it’s sort of a strange one, a case where a man confessed to a crime years and years after the fact. Problem was there was no evidence to convict him, you know? Can you really condemn a man just on his word?”
“I’m not sure. Why would he confess all of a sudden?”
“Guilt, maybe? Or he had nothing to do with it and just wanted a sin-free suicide? I don’t know. It’s a very strange case.”
“So, what happened?”
“Dunno yet. The assignment is to read up on relevant law and make our own decision. Personally, I don’t know. A murder is a terrible thing to hang over your head. If he really did it, his life must have been so painful.”
Lucas nodded. He knew what it felt like to have a secret that ate away at his soul. “Yeah.”
Lucas didn’t often have a lot to contribute to these conversations as his days were all quite monotonous, but he liked watching Jamie talk, he liked his straight teeth and his easy laugh, he liked his beautiful bright eyes, and he liked the way his golden hair kissed his forehead when he walked. Jamie was nice enough to let them stop at a little stream so Lucas could wash the dirt off from his body before they got home. If he thought anything nasty about Lucas’s work, he certainly never said it. He was chipper and cheerful, and it kept Lucas steady.
“So, one of the lads in my year dropped out. Apparently, he got a waitress pregnant, so her parents are making them get married, and he’s getting a job,” Jamie said as he poured them both some wine to pair with the meal Lucas had cooked.
Lucas’s back ached. His new boss had no idea, since Lucas couldn’t afford to miss any work. Bastard had stiffed him his pay this week anyway, fucker.
“It’s quite a big scandal! I mean he’s from a big important family, you know? I’m surprised his parents didn’t just pay the woman off or something.”
Molly had stopped working. She was getting breathless, she’d fainted once or twice, her feet were swollen to shit.
“Maybe they’re religious or something? Christ, I hope I don’t get a girl pregnant like that. It’d be so awful to be stuck with someone you didn’t love just because of one mistake.”
