Allegiance: A Dublin Novella (15 page)

William stared at the ceiling and listened to the endless rain. Between the drops he heard the sound of his mother singing ‘Cagaran Gaolach’ in her sweet, lilting voice.

“No,” he said.

“Well fancy that. I’m more educated than the college boy, so I am.” Adam gave the hair between his fingers a tweak and laughed when William flinched. “Perhaps if you’re lucky I might share my wondrous knowledge with you someday.”

He tugged again, harder, and William jerked and swore, grabbing his wrist in one hand as they laughed.

“Oh, aye? You think you’ve something to teach me, then?”

Adam rolled over all at once, shifting his weight to stretch full-length on top of William’s body. He braced his arms on either side of William’s head and smiled down at him.

“Perhaps. “Depends on how quick a student you are.”

William settled easily into the feeling of Adam’s body against his own. Their legs splayed together, tiny drafts of cool air sneaking beneath the blankets each time Adam moved. William still had an arm tucked behind his head – Adam reached up and drew a finger down the skin, tracing an invisible line across the swell of William’s bicep, down through the valley of his armpit, up around the curve of one collarbone, stopping in the flat space between his nipples.

“
Clúmhach
,” he said.

“What does that mean?”

Adam grinned. “Furry.”

William shoved against his laughter and swatted his hand away. “Get off,” he grunted, twisting away from long fingers poking at his ribs, until they settled together once more.

“
Glas.
” Adam touched the skin below William’s left eye. “Green.”

William smirked, but he felt his face growing warm, which only caused Adam’s laughter to return. “Aye, green as the Emerald Isle herself, so they are,” he crowed dramatically, “and just as beguiling fair.”

“Save that for your virgin conquests, boy,” William said. “I’m none of your simpering lasses.”

Adam’s finger traced the fine lines at the corner of William’s eye. He was still smiling, but the light in his eyes had changed; as he looked down at William the smile softened and then disappeared.

“That you are not.”

And then William was kissing him, or maybe Adam was kissing
him
, it didn’t matter which and he never could quite recall later anyway. Adam’s mouth was lazy, slow with sleep and rain and the leftover warmth of the past three hours in this room; but he was already hard between their bellies, and in another moment so was William. He wrapped both arms around Adam’s back, feeling it tense and relax as he moved, drawing them closer together. There was a feeling then, sudden and strange, and William’s knees had drawn up before he could think to do so.

Adam drew back to look at him, face gone strange and soft-edged.

“
Alainn.
”

William braced his feet on the mattress and tilted his hips, shuddering at pressure on still-slick skin that had not yet had time to recover.

“What…
does that mean?”

His neck arched a little on the pillow and a breath escaped him as Adam slid forward in one slow, easy thrust.

“Beautiful,” Adam said.

What fascinated William the most about sex with Adam was watching his face. He thought of various lovers from his past – serious and casual, female and male, aggressive and docile. Some stared at him as if willing a certain reaction out of him, scowling in concentration; some huffed and puffed, eyes clamped tight against the slightest distraction; some licked their lips and rolled their eyes and gave him the faces they thought he wanted to see. Adam did none of these things. In his body was no hint of rush or demand, no sign of the swagger he always wore like the cap now sitting on the dresser. His face hid nothing and it denied nothing – no guilt, no guile, no smug performance or faux bravado; it was an open canvas across which flitted every sensation. He made love with shameless joy, eyes closed, mouth open, trembling with each shallow breath. He was a thing of beauty in William’s arms.

William wondered if this was what the rest of them saw.

He held on, content to feel the rhythm and the weight, not feeling the need for anything more. Adam's belly sliding against his cock was not important; the tight heat coiling in his bollocks was not important; nothing was important besides the body that shook and sweated in his arms. He shifted his hips, squeezed his thighs and Adam moaned and stuttered forward, and he could care about nothing except watching this happen, containing Adam as he came apart in quiet layers of warmth into the cold all around them. “Adam,” he whispered, “Adam,” and Adam gave one more thrust and froze there, his voice echoing off the thin walls, his hands clenched into fists in the sheets, waves of heat matching his violent tremors. William held on, held him, held this moment and held everything else away for as long as he possibly could.

Adam collapsed above him, his head dropping until his hair brushed William’s neck, his shoulder-blades jutted back as his elbows trembled to hold up his weight. William ran both palms down his back, slow and soothing, wiping off salt and moisture. Adam raised his head; his face was flushed, gray eyes clouded and heavy. After a moment he caught his breath enough to speak.

“Táim i ngrá leat.”

Softly, William said, “What does that mean?”

Adam closed his eyes and breathed. When he opened them again, their veneer returned as smoothly as a shade being drawn over a window. He grinned down at William and tossed a strand of hair back from his forehead. “Nothing.” He rolled off and flopped onto his back, naked in the chill of the bedroom. “Just that I need a wee nap now.”

William said nothing. Adam turned his head and gave him a drowsy smile; the pulse in his neck was slowing, his eyes languid and sleepy. William relaxed into the pillows and smiled.

“Lessons a bit much for you?”

Adam grinned back, but his voice was already fading. “Education takes time, Glasgow,” he said. “Wake me in an hour and we’ll compare notes.”

William watched him slide into sleep. His hands lay on his belly, rising with each slow, even breath; his lips parted, his face gone slack and soft. The errant strand of hair had fallen back across his forehead. William drew the blanket up against the chill, and then he put one arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling, listening to the never-ending rain, until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

19.

April 19, 1922

“There’s something in the air tonight, Glasgow. I’ve not seen the place this riled up in months.”

William looked up from tugging at the stopper of the bottle wedged between his knees. He raised an eyebrow at Gerald and shouted above the din. “Oh aye?” The stopper came loose with a violent
pop.
“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Bollocks,” Gerald laughed, watching William fill a long row of tumblers. “Don’t think I haven’t seen what’s been going on around here. I’m not blind, man. I know what you’ve been up to.”

William paused in mid-pour. “Eh?”

“Sure haven’t I seen that red-haired lass making eyes at you all night? Don’t gape at me like that, you know who I mean. The one with the devil’s own hips on her.”

William tilted the bottle again. “For shame, Gerald, she’s young enough to be your daughter.”

“Aye,” said Gerald, “And that’s why she’s looking at you.”

The lads around the bar chuckled, and William shook his head. “You’re daft, the lot of you.”

“You know something’s amiss when even the Prod’s getting looks from the ladies,” said David. “Are you hiding something from us, then, Glasgow?”

William reached over and filled David’s glass with one hand; the other he cocked into a fist until his bicep swelled beneath his rolled-up sleeve. “Only this, dear Davie,” he said sweetly, “but I’d be happy to give you a better look at it.”

The boys all laughed; a few tossed coins William’s way for the next round of refills. “Speaking of lasses, Andy,” David called out, “How’re you faring with the lovely Miss Kate?”

There was an immediate torrent of inappropriate comments, Andy’s cheeks flushed even redder than usual. He downed the rest of his drink and thumped his glass on the table. “Never you mind, Ryan, never you mind."

David, far from sober himself, leaned across the bar to William and whispered ridiculously loud. “Byrne's courting Kate O’Connell. Don’t tell anyone.”

“You have my oath.”

A man at the other end of the bar chuckled. “Sure we’ve all got a lass or two on our cards now, don’t we, now that Elliot’s turned ‘em all loose for us.”

William looked up. “What?”

“
True enough,
”
David nodded. “I hear he’s gone and abandoned half his usual roster, so he has. All the young ones are talking about it.”

“Katie says”
– Andy was interrupted by elbows in his gut and hoots in his ear – ”I say, Kate says, Kate told me that the lasses say Adam hasn’t taken a girl home in nigh on a month. God’s own truth.”

“A
month
?” someone cried. “Has he caught a pox or something?”

“Maybe he gave them up for Lent,” said David, and the bar shook with laughter.

William said nothing – he was looking across the crowd to where Adam sat at a back table, tossing dice with two other young men named Doyle and Collins. He was saying something that made all three of them laugh, and as he bent to make his throw he glanced up and caught William staring at him. His grin curled a little higher, and his eyes flashed for just an instant before he turned back to his game.

A voice in William’s ear made him start, spilling a splash of whisky on the bar top.

“You’re mates, then, aren’t you Glasgow?” Gerald said. “Has he said anything to you about it?”

“Aye, you and he have been awfully chummy lately,” said David. “Has he confessed anything to you, Glasgow? Has he got one on the sly that we don’t know about?”

Everyone at the bar was looking his way. His eyes darted back to the corner before he could stop them; Adam bent low over the table, his dice in one fist, shaking them over the pile of coin and notes while the other lads talked above his head. When he saw William watching him, he brought his hand to his mouth and set his lips into a perfect ‘o’, blowing a breath across the dice in his palm.

William turned to face David. “I have no idea.”

The boys made a few more lewd jokes, but then talk turned to the football match coming up that weekend and the subject was quickly forgotten. William wiped up the spilled whisky and took the dirty towel to the hamper; by the time he came back, the dice game had ended, Collins clapping Adam on the back with a smile while Doyle, looking somewhat less pleased, pulled out his wallet. William chuckled.

In another corner the fiddler rosined his bow while his companion dusted off the bodhrán. The dancing space cleared out more quickly than usual as tables were moved and partners selected. A black-haired girl appeared at Adam’s elbow, whispering something in his ear that made her cheeks flush pink. Adam put a hand on her waist and whispered back, but his eyes were on William’s. William cleared his throat and turned to find a clean towel.

Gerald was right – there
was
something in the air, a kind of wild current he growing steadily thicker. The fiddler drew his bow across the strings in a single trill, and a shiver seemed to run through the room; the tension rose with the temperature as sleeves were rolled up and hair was let down. William searched the crowd for Adam. The black-haired girl was nowhere to be seen; Adam leaned against a post with his arms across his chest, waiting for William’s eyes to find him. His face had flushed, but only party from drink; he held William’s gaze, sharp and fixed in the smoky light, and gave a slight nod toward the basement stairs.