Blood Rising - Part Fifteen
Title: Blood Rising (Part Fifteen)
Author: gregoria44
Rating: 15+ for mature concepts, this part
Word count: This part 1,576
Summary: Keep on moving.
A/N: Same as Part One. All comments and concrit always welcome. Sorry that this part is fairly short - real life has been pleasantly distracting of late. Special thanks to haldoor, rivers_bend, ladywillin and everyone who's been asking for more.
Warnings: These are teenagers and this is gay fiction. Stuff happens.
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen
When we eventually made our way back to the house, it was like returning to the aftermath of a catastrophe. There didn’t appear to by any physical harm to anyone or anything, but remaining bodies were heaped around like despondent refugees at border control.
Mark and Ruth had taken charge, and both shot accusatory glances at us as we entered. They were tidying and straightening things, and had Tag rounding up the last of the Bens.
Even without the filthy looks, I couldn’t have felt more obvious. Sooner or later, someone was bound to ask what we’d been up to, and as I moved, I kept catching the heavy imprint of a smell. It was as if the act of being with Des had lodged in my clothes and skin and nose, and I was convinced I wasn’t the only one aware of it.
Ignoring Mark’s quiet anger, I picked up a bin liner and began helping with the clean-up. Des went in the opposite direction, and in looking to see where he’d gone, I noticed Will. He was huddled in a corner of the floor, forehead on knees; Wayne was down there with him, distractedly patting his back. Wayne’s other hand was resting on Kelly’s ankle; she’d fallen asleep in the chair next to them, wrapped around Will’s coat.
“Is he all right?” Des asked, but I couldn’t hear the reply.
Ruth stepped up next to me. “Did you know Will’s mam was ill again?”
“No. No, I didn’t.” I’d had enough on with worrying about Des’ situation; I’d barely noticed what anyone else had been up to.
“Apparently they took her into hospital again this afternoon. She’d been out in the road, shouting at cars.” Ruth’s eyes swept over Des, who’d crouched down in front of Will, and then returned sharply back to me. “How come you two have got dust all over your backs?”
Adrenaline prickled around my system. The whitish powder must have come from whatever the outhouse walls were painted with. Des had several streaks on him that wouldn’t take much imagination to be seen as handprints.
I made a noise that sounded more like a stalling engine than a decent excuse. Mark, Wayne and Des all turned to look at me, while Ruth’s expression became more pinched. “Were you two out there smoking dope? ’Cos that was really useful of you. Thanks for that.”
Despite her inventive mistake of an alibi, she was getting on my nerves. “What’s it got to do with you, again?”
“Oy,” Mark snapped. I opened my mouth to ask if it had anything to do with him either, but then I recognised the expression on his face. It was an angrier version of the one he’d worn at the farmhouse, as though he knew. He landed it briefly on Des, and said nothing more.
He didn’t need to. I was still buzzing inside from what had happened earlier; the last thing I wanted was to lay everything bare in a public argument. I backed down, and dutifully carried on picking up bottles.
*
Between us, we got the dregs of the party sorted as best we could, and left Will to stay overnight under Wayne’s ministrations. The girls went home in a taxi, and Mark went with them, using the excuse of seeing them home safely. Des and I got another cab, giving me chance to sound him out about Mark.
“Do you think he…”
“No.” Des cut the sentence straight down. “He’s pissed off that we’d left him to it. You know what it’s like when Will goes off: he really goes off. I’ll talk to Mark; it’ll be all right.”
Unconvinced, I watched the neon takeaway signs waver past the window, aware that he was still looking at me. I wondered if he was as scared as I was; we were both past the point of any previous encounter, whole new territories opening up before us.
“Listen, Steve, you know tomorrow - you got anything planned?”
There was an edge of anxiety to his question, giving me the impression I was about to be asked on a date. It seemed weirdly old fashioned in the circumstances.
“No. I was supposed to be going with Duncan to my Nan’s for tea, but I think that’s off now.”
“Right.” Taking a deep breath, he ploughed on. “It’s just… I’ve got to go with Mam to watch Thomas play football in the afternoon; she said I can bring someone along if I want. It’s going to be really boring, but he goes for a drink afterwards, so we might be able to… y’know, do something.”
For saying I hadn’t known what to expect from the evening, it was turning out to be one hell of a night. Exhilaration swelled in my chest, but I didn’t want to look an idiot by replying with the excitement of a toddler. I paused before answering, accidentally giving him space for some rapid back-pedaling.
“Dun’t matter. Duncan’ll want to do something with you, anyway.”
That made me laugh. “The beer was my present from Dunc; we don’t usually make such a big deal of birthdays. Anyway, I want to go with you.”
The taxi dropped us at the end of my street, and I used Nan’s fiver to pay. The engine noises ground off into the distance, leaving quiet stillness in their wake. There was nobody else around.
Pumped up with beer and bravery, I grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the shadow of a gable-end. I kissed him long and hard, feeling him press up against me in return. The second we stopped for breath, he withdrew. “I’m sorry… I’ve got to get back before Thomas.”
“I know; it’s all right.” I was turned on and shaking, but knowing he felt the same made me calm, and at least he’d given us time.
We said goodnight, and headed home separately. I fell asleep with myself in hand, still hot and heavy from his touch.
*
“STEVE!”
All I could see was pillow. It appeared to be stuck to my head, or maybe my head was too heavy to lift from it. Had someone shouted my name? Did I have to get up for school? What time was it, anyway?
My bedroom door banged open. There was a muffled thump as a projectile hit my duvet-clad shoulder and bounced, landing in front of my eyes. It was the cordless phone. I turned over in time to see Duncan stomp back out of the room.
Still only semi-conscious, I placed the receiver next to my head. “Mrmph?”
“Steven?”
Shit.
I rolled onto my back and pulled the duvet up to my chin. The phone was already sweaty where it pressed into my ear.
Even without a reply, Mam had decided it was me she was speaking to, probably because I hadn’t hung up. “I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, yeah? God, sixteen years old. Bet you’ve really grown since... Well, your nan sends me photos, but...” She’d already run out of things to say.
I’d forgotten how her accent was different to mine and how fast she could talk. My head filled with a picture of her from the last time I could remember: thin face, thin hair, thin arms, thin clothes.
Downstairs, Duncan had turned up the radio to show he wasn’t listening, but I couldn’t bring myself to help her conversation along. Painful awkwardness stretched along the phone line between us.
“How’s school?”
My, how you’ve grown… How’s school?
It was pathetic. “S’fine.”
There was a little sigh, and the phone line went quieter, as though she was fading away from the other end. “Listen, Steven? I’ve been thinking; it’s been a long time, and I don’t have the right or anything, but… I’d really like to see you; we could talk properly, you know? Just you and me…”
“Mam…” I intended to slow her down, give my sleep-addled brain time to catch up, but she took the interruption as a refusal, immediately making assumptions.
“Whatever Duncan’s said about me, that’s only his opinion; you’re old enough to make up your own mind now.”
“I know...”
“It’s not all about him.” The fake cheeriness of her tone was slipping into a whine of annoyance; she’d said she didn’t have the right, but she didn’t believe it. I could see the shape of her frown, the hard-done-by self pity in her dark eyes. “Maybe it’s about time you got to hear my side of things.”
“Yeah, well,” annoyance was contagious, “maybe if you called more than once every two years, I’d have heard it already.”
There was a long, long silence. Something like guilt stirred in my stomach, but I swallowed it angrily down.
When she spoke again, she sounded even further away. “I’ve not been there for you, I know, and I’ve been a crap mother… but at least think about it, yeah? Just tell me you’ll think about it.”
I screwed my eyes shut and pulled the duvet right over my head. My words were thick and reluctant in the stifling warmth. “I’m not promising owt.”
“You don’t have to.” She sounded relieved, happy, as though I’d already said yes. “Nan’s got my number - just call me.”
“Hmm.” I didn’t want to say anything else, already feeling like I’d made too big a commitment. I hung up before she had chance to drag me into anything more.
*
Part Sixteen
Thrifty Car Rental Coupons
Author: gregoria44
Rating: 15+ for mature concepts, this part
Word count: This part 1,576
Summary: Keep on moving.
A/N: Same as Part One. All comments and concrit always welcome. Sorry that this part is fairly short - real life has been pleasantly distracting of late. Special thanks to haldoor, rivers_bend, ladywillin and everyone who's been asking for more.
Warnings: These are teenagers and this is gay fiction. Stuff happens.
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen
When we eventually made our way back to the house, it was like returning to the aftermath of a catastrophe. There didn’t appear to by any physical harm to anyone or anything, but remaining bodies were heaped around like despondent refugees at border control.
Mark and Ruth had taken charge, and both shot accusatory glances at us as we entered. They were tidying and straightening things, and had Tag rounding up the last of the Bens.
Even without the filthy looks, I couldn’t have felt more obvious. Sooner or later, someone was bound to ask what we’d been up to, and as I moved, I kept catching the heavy imprint of a smell. It was as if the act of being with Des had lodged in my clothes and skin and nose, and I was convinced I wasn’t the only one aware of it.
Ignoring Mark’s quiet anger, I picked up a bin liner and began helping with the clean-up. Des went in the opposite direction, and in looking to see where he’d gone, I noticed Will. He was huddled in a corner of the floor, forehead on knees; Wayne was down there with him, distractedly patting his back. Wayne’s other hand was resting on Kelly’s ankle; she’d fallen asleep in the chair next to them, wrapped around Will’s coat.
“Is he all right?” Des asked, but I couldn’t hear the reply.
Ruth stepped up next to me. “Did you know Will’s mam was ill again?”
“No. No, I didn’t.” I’d had enough on with worrying about Des’ situation; I’d barely noticed what anyone else had been up to.
“Apparently they took her into hospital again this afternoon. She’d been out in the road, shouting at cars.” Ruth’s eyes swept over Des, who’d crouched down in front of Will, and then returned sharply back to me. “How come you two have got dust all over your backs?”
Adrenaline prickled around my system. The whitish powder must have come from whatever the outhouse walls were painted with. Des had several streaks on him that wouldn’t take much imagination to be seen as handprints.
I made a noise that sounded more like a stalling engine than a decent excuse. Mark, Wayne and Des all turned to look at me, while Ruth’s expression became more pinched. “Were you two out there smoking dope? ’Cos that was really useful of you. Thanks for that.”
Despite her inventive mistake of an alibi, she was getting on my nerves. “What’s it got to do with you, again?”
“Oy,” Mark snapped. I opened my mouth to ask if it had anything to do with him either, but then I recognised the expression on his face. It was an angrier version of the one he’d worn at the farmhouse, as though he knew. He landed it briefly on Des, and said nothing more.
He didn’t need to. I was still buzzing inside from what had happened earlier; the last thing I wanted was to lay everything bare in a public argument. I backed down, and dutifully carried on picking up bottles.
*
Between us, we got the dregs of the party sorted as best we could, and left Will to stay overnight under Wayne’s ministrations. The girls went home in a taxi, and Mark went with them, using the excuse of seeing them home safely. Des and I got another cab, giving me chance to sound him out about Mark.
“Do you think he…”
“No.” Des cut the sentence straight down. “He’s pissed off that we’d left him to it. You know what it’s like when Will goes off: he really goes off. I’ll talk to Mark; it’ll be all right.”
Unconvinced, I watched the neon takeaway signs waver past the window, aware that he was still looking at me. I wondered if he was as scared as I was; we were both past the point of any previous encounter, whole new territories opening up before us.
“Listen, Steve, you know tomorrow - you got anything planned?”
There was an edge of anxiety to his question, giving me the impression I was about to be asked on a date. It seemed weirdly old fashioned in the circumstances.
“No. I was supposed to be going with Duncan to my Nan’s for tea, but I think that’s off now.”
“Right.” Taking a deep breath, he ploughed on. “It’s just… I’ve got to go with Mam to watch Thomas play football in the afternoon; she said I can bring someone along if I want. It’s going to be really boring, but he goes for a drink afterwards, so we might be able to… y’know, do something.”
For saying I hadn’t known what to expect from the evening, it was turning out to be one hell of a night. Exhilaration swelled in my chest, but I didn’t want to look an idiot by replying with the excitement of a toddler. I paused before answering, accidentally giving him space for some rapid back-pedaling.
“Dun’t matter. Duncan’ll want to do something with you, anyway.”
That made me laugh. “The beer was my present from Dunc; we don’t usually make such a big deal of birthdays. Anyway, I want to go with you.”
The taxi dropped us at the end of my street, and I used Nan’s fiver to pay. The engine noises ground off into the distance, leaving quiet stillness in their wake. There was nobody else around.
Pumped up with beer and bravery, I grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the shadow of a gable-end. I kissed him long and hard, feeling him press up against me in return. The second we stopped for breath, he withdrew. “I’m sorry… I’ve got to get back before Thomas.”
“I know; it’s all right.” I was turned on and shaking, but knowing he felt the same made me calm, and at least he’d given us time.
We said goodnight, and headed home separately. I fell asleep with myself in hand, still hot and heavy from his touch.
*
“STEVE!”
All I could see was pillow. It appeared to be stuck to my head, or maybe my head was too heavy to lift from it. Had someone shouted my name? Did I have to get up for school? What time was it, anyway?
My bedroom door banged open. There was a muffled thump as a projectile hit my duvet-clad shoulder and bounced, landing in front of my eyes. It was the cordless phone. I turned over in time to see Duncan stomp back out of the room.
Still only semi-conscious, I placed the receiver next to my head. “Mrmph?”
“Steven?”
Shit.
I rolled onto my back and pulled the duvet up to my chin. The phone was already sweaty where it pressed into my ear.
Even without a reply, Mam had decided it was me she was speaking to, probably because I hadn’t hung up. “I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, yeah? God, sixteen years old. Bet you’ve really grown since... Well, your nan sends me photos, but...” She’d already run out of things to say.
I’d forgotten how her accent was different to mine and how fast she could talk. My head filled with a picture of her from the last time I could remember: thin face, thin hair, thin arms, thin clothes.
Downstairs, Duncan had turned up the radio to show he wasn’t listening, but I couldn’t bring myself to help her conversation along. Painful awkwardness stretched along the phone line between us.
“How’s school?”
My, how you’ve grown… How’s school?
It was pathetic. “S’fine.”
There was a little sigh, and the phone line went quieter, as though she was fading away from the other end. “Listen, Steven? I’ve been thinking; it’s been a long time, and I don’t have the right or anything, but… I’d really like to see you; we could talk properly, you know? Just you and me…”
“Mam…” I intended to slow her down, give my sleep-addled brain time to catch up, but she took the interruption as a refusal, immediately making assumptions.
“Whatever Duncan’s said about me, that’s only his opinion; you’re old enough to make up your own mind now.”
“I know...”
“It’s not all about him.” The fake cheeriness of her tone was slipping into a whine of annoyance; she’d said she didn’t have the right, but she didn’t believe it. I could see the shape of her frown, the hard-done-by self pity in her dark eyes. “Maybe it’s about time you got to hear my side of things.”
“Yeah, well,” annoyance was contagious, “maybe if you called more than once every two years, I’d have heard it already.”
There was a long, long silence. Something like guilt stirred in my stomach, but I swallowed it angrily down.
When she spoke again, she sounded even further away. “I’ve not been there for you, I know, and I’ve been a crap mother… but at least think about it, yeah? Just tell me you’ll think about it.”
I screwed my eyes shut and pulled the duvet right over my head. My words were thick and reluctant in the stifling warmth. “I’m not promising owt.”
“You don’t have to.” She sounded relieved, happy, as though I’d already said yes. “Nan’s got my number - just call me.”
“Hmm.” I didn’t want to say anything else, already feeling like I’d made too big a commitment. I hung up before she had chance to drag me into anything more.
*
Part Sixteen
Thrifty Car Rental Coupons