Authors: K.A. Merikan
He took a deep breath, sitting by the fire. “I’m sorry to intrude...” he said, feeling awkward, especially with the mask on.
“That’s all right,” answered the boy immediately, pulling his creamy thighs together. “I was bored anyway.”
James’ eyes opened a bit wider, as he involuntarily glimpsed a lot more flesh than would usually be on show. “So you sleep here?” he asked again, beginning to understand that Ira evidently didn’t have the same concerns as he did.
The boy laughed, his eyes glittering slightly. “He lets me sometimes, when I don’t wanna go back home. He's a man ya can trust!” he added with emphasis, apparently wanting to assure him that he was seeking the services of someone proper.
“Oh. So he cares for you? A bit like a father?” James asked with hope.
The boy nodded, but the deep blush on his cheeks told James otherwise. “He’s... nice.”
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be there anymore. What was the point? It looked as though he had some kind of idiotic idea in his head whereas Ira just fucked whoever was around. What happened in Kent, must have been simply another fling to him. Maybe a little different than his young friend here, but nothing out of the ordinary. Not the world-crashing experience it was for him. “I can imagine it’s nice to have a friend. Especially in this area.”
“Yeah, he’s nice,” the boy nodded, “Wouldn’t you like to take off the mask?” he asked all of a sudden.
“No, thank you... I...” He stood up. “I actually think I will be going. Thank you for your hospitality. Could you please not tell Ira about my visit?” he asked.
Ira’s friend tilted his head slightly, visibly surprised. “Why? Did I do something wrong? I am sorry!” he said, standing up.
“Not at all. I simply changed my mind about the assignment I wanted to give him,” James said, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He was sure the boy was Ira’s lover. What could he then have to do here, as it was now pretty obvious he was nothing more than a fling to Ira.
“Um... all right,” said the boy in the end, studying James with discretion.
“Thank you,” said James rushing out of the house nervously. The unfamiliar dark streets felt unwelcoming at this time of night. What was he doing trying to look for that man?
*
Ira breathed deeply, carrying a bag of food and drink up the stairs. He spent most of the day at the university and then went to see a play in a cheap theatre in Soho. He knocked on his door and almost immediately Joshua opened, with a big smile. Ira smiled back, handing his bag to the boy before heading into the overheated room.
Joshua lost everything after his father went bankrupt and committed suicide. He ended up as a male rentboy, but kept putting money away in a bank. Ira believed the boy would eventually leave the profession. Off course, he heard that from many young hookers, but he honestly hoped Josh could make it.
“There’s dinner inside,” he said, taking off his leather jacket.
“Oh, thank you!”, Joshua said, placing a quick kiss on his cheek, before walking off to the table to take out the food. “How was your day at the university?”
“Was all right,” Ira sighed and sat in his favorite leather chair. The work was as tiresome as a day on the galleys. It was probably the stress of dealing with the undead that added to the tension. “Got new zombies, as every day.”
“It’s a responsible job!” Joshua smiled at him and braided his long hair to the side. The smell of stew and bread filled the room when he put the food on the table. “You had a visitor here, as well.”
“Yeah?” asked Ira, his thoughts returning to the unexpected meeting at the university. He still remembered the feel of luscious lips on his cock and groaned at the memory. Fucking bigot that James, he thought.
“He demanded of me, that I do not tell you, but of course I will,” he said and looked at Ira for approval. The man blinked, surprised.
“Why would he want that?” he asked, gesturing for Joshua to come over.
“I don’t know. He only stayed for a minute and tried to make some conversation.” The boy came closer and sat on Ira’s lap. “He said he had an assignment for you, but then changed his mind.”
“That’s weird,” commented Ira, cradling his companion against his chest and kissing his temple. He enjoyed Joshua’s company; he was beautiful, smart and clung to him.
“He had this expensive coat on and a very posh accent. So it could have been some good money,” the boy said, kissing Ira slowly. Ira swallowed and withdrew, but put his arm around his companion’s waist.
“Tell me more,” he asked, feeling strangely apprehensive. Why would a potential client resign after meeting Joshua?
“He asked me if I lived here, if we were friends and that sort of small talk. Oh! I know what else - he wouldn’t take off his mask. But I think he had a few locks of long hair sticking out.”
Ira straightened a bit. Was that possible? What could James be doing in a neighbourhood like this? Did he... want to apologize? Yes, that must have been it! “When was that?” he asked sharply.
“Not longer than half an hour ago. Do you know who that could have been?” Joshua asked, wrapping his arms around Ira’s neck.
“Yes,” the older man answered, untangling his hands and trying to stand up, “I need to go.” This area was definitely unfit for someone like James. Moreover, it was like a labyrinth and he wondered whether the other man would be able to get out of it safely.
“But what about dinner?” asked Joshua with disappointment, getting off his lap.
“Ya go ahead, I’ll eat mine when I’m back,” said Ira, bending to give the younger man a kiss, but he knew he had to go now. Snatching his jacket from the cupboard, he stormed out of the room and down the staircase, trying to imagine, which way James could have taken. After a few seconds, he concluded that he must have gone into the immediate direction of the city, so he quickly went into the proper street.
The bright moonlight didn’t really help much with all the mist in the streets. It was an eerie place, where one could rarely see an actual face, as so many people wore gas masks, for some protection against the filthy air. Ira forgot his own and already regretted it, as he felt thick smoke teasing the inside of his nose and throat. He followed the path that seemed the most probable. There were mostly men living in this district, prostitutes being the only women visible in the streets.
He walked around the buildings for a good quarter of an hour, before he heard some screams and the clash of metal against metal from a few alleys away. With no hesitation, he grabbed his favorite serrated dagger and ran in the direction he heard the noises from. He almost tripped two times frantically searching for James. This was no place for him!
He ran out to a street just by the river and what he saw there was a swordfight. Encased in the thick fog, two men were ruthlessly exchanging attacks. He understood there was someone else from moans he heard further down the pavement. The man in the elegant coat, James as he supposed, made a series of swift blows with his saber, forcing his opponent to back away, closer to the river. He definitely didn’t look like a damsel in distress. Ira sighed, surprised, but did not stop running along the almost empty street. Apparently, passers-by preferred to stay uninvolved and hid as soon as they saw the fight. “You’re fuckin’ dead!” he shouted with rage.
James’ opponent, dressed in some rags, looked at him, distracted enough to give James a chance for a hit. He screamed, as the blade pierced through his arm. He lost balance and took a step back, falling into the river with a loud splash. At the same time, they heard the well-known sound of police bells, as two officers came running down the street.
“Oh ‘ell!” Ira looked around, seeking a way out. Meeting the police was never a good thing for him, especially since London became a fortress. It happened to him before and usually, once the officers turned their attention on someone, it was assumed they were guilty. The elegant man finally turned his head towards Ira, but his face was hidden behind the mask. Screams emanated from the injured man in the water, but the policemen approached Ira and James cautiously, ignoring the calls for help.
“What is all this commotion!?” asked one of them as the other one kneeled down beside the unconscious man on the pavement, checking if he was alive.
“I came to ‘elp!” said Ira, straightening his back to look taller. He felt nervous as he watched both uniformed policemen in light masks with large goggles. Whey wore mid-length leather coats with brown breeches stuck into knee-high boots, along with a waistcoat and a tie, all mostly brown and grey.
“You?” said the first officer, while the other one looked at James’ bloodied saber. “I know you,” he added sharply, “You always cause trouble, never ‘help’.”
James took off his mask, to show a flushed face, clearly visible in the moonlight. It was obvious to Ira, that because of his elegant clothing, they regarded him differently. “Gentlemen!” James said quickly. “I’m sorry for what had happened here. My name is James Hurst and these men tried to kill me.” He pointed to the ground and to the river. “I was walking along peacefully and joined a heated discussion on the upcoming Johners Walk, only to be attacked for my opinions soon after!” James gave Ira a suspicious look.
“Do you have any identification?” The police officer asked politely, as if trying to stay on the safe side, worried that James might be someone important.
“Yes, kind sir,” he said and opened his coat to reach some documents from an inside pocket. Since the Plague, government was a lot stricter about knowing exactly who resides in the city.
Ira made a discrete move towards the nearest alley, but the other policeman immediately left the wounded burglar, and withdrew his gun. “Don’t you dare, Russell!” he exclaimed, pointing the barrel into Ira’s neck. The man swallowed.
“It’s a misunderstanding!” he tried, but was stopped by the officer in an instant.
“Shut your mouth!”
The other policeman gave James a bewildered look after examining his documents and handed them back. “L... Lord Hurst, in this part of the city, it is very dangerous for a man of your standing. Would you like to be escorted back to your house? We are extremely sorry for the problems you have encountered, sir!” he swallowed, straightening his back. “My friend will detain the other thug and I can go with you now, as to not waste your time, sir.”
“I’m no thug!” hissed Ira, even though with the pistol right by his neck, he did not dare move. “I was ’elping the man! Tell him!” His eyes turned to James. It felt humiliating, but he could not let himself be arrested again!”
“You're not obliged to say anything, Lord Hurst, do not be intimidated, sir,” said the policeman standing next to Ira as the other one sighed, unsure what to do anymore.
“Do you know this man, my Lord? Are you willing to vouch for him this night? Because otherwise we will need to detain him.”
James hesitated, looking at Ira discretely, but nodded. “Yes, it’s fine, he will do nothing unlawful tonight,” he said.
Ira felt relief wash through him as the gun shifted by his neck slightly.
“Are you certain, my Lord?” asked the police officer with badly hidden displeasure. “It is not the first time we would have taken him into custody.”
“Yes, I will make sure he doesn’t cause any trouble,” said James, cleaning his saber with a handkerchief. Ira swallowed as he saw red on the cotton. He would never expect him to be that much of a fighter. When they went to Kent to retrieve James’ possessions, he was pretty much a prince in distress. Here and now, he did quite all right all by himself!
The second policeman finally released Ira, who bent his head, not wanting to look at any of them. He hated this with a passion. If James was that good with his saber, he obviously didn't need him, hence all he wanted was to return home to eat dinner with Joshua. He liked spending time with the boy.
When the policemen left taking the unconscious attacker with them, James looked up at him slowly, without saying anything. He put his saber back into its sheath. Ira licked his lips, crossing his hands on his torso. Now that the other man saved him, he didn't feel like talking to him anymore. “So... I’ll go.” he shrugged.
“Huh?” James furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m responsible for you tonight,” he said in a stern voice.
Ira blinked, his body loosening. “Wha’?”
“You are in my custody. I’m not letting you do something stupid tonight, as it would be my responsibility!” James walked up to him slowly, closing his coat.
“I’m not in custody!” snarled Ira. He could not believe it! “I didn’t do nothin’!”
“But if you do, I’ll be responsible, so you’re going with me,” said James, arranging his hair in a neat ponytail, before putting the mask back on.
“I’m goin’ back!” Ira said, moving backwards. “You know where,” he added, not without satisfaction.
There was a moment of silence, before Ira heard James’ angry voice, muffled by the mask. “You’re not going anywhere! Especially not back to your house!”
“Need to!” said Ira, gritting his teeth. “Someone’s waitin’ for me!”
“That little boy whore of yours
?” James spat, straightening his back.
Ira felt a hot flush of anger pulsing in his temples. “Oh, callin’ ‘im a whore, eh? Ya betta’ than ‘im?!” he growled through clenched teeth. “‘Cause ya’ve not done it to fill ya stomach?! Ya bend over just like ‘im!” He instantly remembered their conversation today and it made him even more irritated.