† Gustavo †
The rain dampened his mood considerably, as he stepped into the tavern two streets from where he truly wished to be and found a seat by the window.
Why Parry had insisted on meeting here was beyond him, but Gustavo could only be glad for the company. He needed his friend to guide him, for it became more difficult with each passing night to keep his distance from the Promise of Pleasure.
His mind was full of self-recriminations. If he had only not stayed that first night or risked getting to know Finnegan. If he had not kissed him or lingered to see him greeting that city guard with such a happy smile.
Gustavo's stomach swirled with discomfort, as he waited for the Prince to arrive. He ordered a mug of blood for them and waited impatiently.
It had already been three weeks since he had last set eyes on Finnegan and, though not the wisest man alive, he knew that he must make a decision soon or fate would make it for him. If he waited too long, Finnegan may forget about him or grow angry with his continued absence.
So lost to his thought was he that he did not notice the shrouded figure taking the seat opposite. Not until a gloved hand pressed to his forearm, startling him.
"Where has your mind been, my friend?" Parry asked, good naturedly.
"I cannot say," Gustavo confessed, as that was the centre of his problems. "I fear that it has gone wandering without me."
Parry chuckled and lifted the mug on his side of the table, to take a sip. "Thank you for the drink," he said, with a smile. "And for meeting me here. I was in the vicinity visiting Doctor Appleby, so it was a convenient detour," he explained.
Gustavo nodded, but still felt deflated. He had taken the wrong turn at almost every juncture, since first meeting Finnegan and was relieved when Parry asked him to summarise their relationship, once again.
For the next hour, he ran through everything they had ever discussed and everything the brothel worker had made him feel. He confessed to every thought and feeling, every doubt and hesitation that prevented him from courting the lad or even continuing their friendship. He needed someone else to tell him whether he should pursue this avenue of romance or not.
"You are such a fool," Parry claimed, shaking his head, while keeping his voice low and refraining from drawing attention to himself. "I cannot believe you had the love of this boy in the palm of your hand and let it go! What I would not give for someone to love me as this lad seems to love you. And yet you hesitate!" he complained.
Gustavo hung his head, but did not deny it. Parry only spoke the recriminations he had already endured from his own conscience. "It is true. I cannot deny it," he confessed freely. "But the boy frightens me. I have never met a lad so sure of himself and what he desires from the future."
"What is there to fear?" Parry demanded.
"What would happen if I gave in to the chemistry between us, only for the lad to fear me?" Gustavo asked, explaining his concerns. "He has confessed his revulsion concerning feeding, so what should I do? Feed only in secret, when he is not there? Feed from another, when our emotions would make it necessary for me to feed only from him? All because he could not bear to offer his blood to me?" He labelled every worry and fear that had crossed his mind these past few weeks, in the hopes Parry could answer each one. If he could, then he may return and attempt to grovel for forgiveness at Finnegan's feet.
But his friend did not answer his concerns.
Parry remained silent and thoughtful, holding his mug in both hands.
"Well? My dear Prince, you are here to allay my fears, not compound them. Do you have no reply?" Gustavo wondered, in panic.
The Prince shrugged and turned to gaze across the tavern. "You have wasted weeks, Gustavo. You have left this boy to think and wonder how you feel; if you will ever return. You think you are the only man he may grow close to or become attached to, in his line of work?" he asked, shaking his head. "Do not be so naïve. They may pay for his time, but they must earn his affection and you will not be the first to see his fine qualities. If he believes you have no desire to return, then what prevents him from seeking love or comfort elsewhere?"
Gustavo blanched, having thought of that possibility before, but never having considered that Finnegan may find another man to love. He had concerned himself so deeply with his own anger and doubts that he had not thought of the likelihood that he would not be the only man to feel something more than a fleeting interest for the boy. He had been so ignorant, as Parry insisted. He had been such a fool.
"What do I do?" he asked desperately.
Parry bit his lower lip and his shoulder twitched uncomfortably. "I cannot imagine that your absence will be easy to forgive, Gustavo. The lad may have thought you would never return and have pushed any feelings he may have for you aside," he theorised. "He may be pining for you, this very moment, holding onto the last shreds of hope that you will return one day. It is hard to tell."
"Whichever it may be," Gustavo said, in regret. "I may have alienated myself from him forever."
"Yes." Parry nodded but reserved further comment.
***
Nearly two hours after his visit with Parry, Gustavo walked the lane outside the Promise of Pleasure and contemplated words that may soothe Finnegan and help him understand why he had held back from their friendship.
He paced for a full ten minutes without seeing a way through the conversation. No variant of words or phrases led him in a direction that would eliminate blame or convince Finnegan to forgive him.
Finally finding his courage, Gustavo headed into the tavern below the Promise of Pleasure, and straight for the staircase. Yet, as he went, he was surprised to see the city guard standing by the bar, speaking with the barman, who was also the brothel manager.
"Finnegan will not be working this night or for the next two," the guard announced, with a tone that brokered no argument.
When the barman/manager spluttered his resistance, he held himself at his tallest and interrupted.
"You have no say in this matter, unless you wish for me to bring the city council in to review your workforce policies. A client has battered that boy from one side of the room to the other, this very night, and you have instilled such fear of reprisals that he would not dare report the incident to you," he bit out, furiously.
As the manager attempted to speak again, the guard pressed a hand over his mouth and leaned in close.
Gustavo scuttled closer to hear the words he spoke.
"This is the only warning I will give you," he said, quietly. "If I hear of more attacks on your boys, I will take matters into my own hands. At this moment, I will settle for the name and contact information of the last client to visit Finnegan. If you do not provide it, I will tear this building from soil to roof, until I find it myself."
The manager positively shook under the strength of the guard's stare. He gestured frantically to the counter and made a movement with his fingers that suggested there was a lockable door or drawer beneath, where he would find the information.
The guard released him and allowed the manager to fetch the information. "I will be arresting this man, this night. If you or another attempt to prevent me from doing so, I will have this business shut down in a heartbeat," he warned, so sternly that Gustavo was impressed that the manager could maintain eye contact with him. "When I return, I will expect a hot meal to be sent to Finnegan's room and the bath in his room filled. He has many injuries to heal and I will see him taken care of."
The manager nodded unquestioningly, while Gustavo ducked behind a wooden column, to remain out of sight. Upon the answer, the guard grabbed the papers from the manager's hands and left the building in an urgent stride.
Somewhat shocked by what he had heard and what he had seen, Gustavo continued towards the stairs and crept up them quietly. He did not know what he would say to Finnegan, but he must say something. Before the guard returned.
He knocked on the door of the bedroom and waited.
It took a few moments for Finnegan to open the door; his eyes were puffy and red. It was evident the boy had been crying heavily and, upon seeing him outside the door, the lad reached up to frantically wipe his cheeks.
"Good evening," Gustavo said, though the words sounded insincere and stupid to his ears. "I...wanted to speak with you, but...I...overheard...downstairs," he stuttered, unsure what to say now that he knew what the boy had been through this night. "The guard you often see claims that you will not be working again for a few nights."
Finnegan stood tall and proud, while appearing so dishevelled that he could easily have been roused from sleep just a moment ago. "I can guess what you have heard. But it does not matter," he claimed, with a casualness that surprised him. "You made me feel affection for you, then when it became more than you could stand, you left. You cared naught for my feelings nor for the friendship we may have returned to, had you but told me that love was not what you sought," he said.
Then, with a deep breath and a quick glance to the floor, he spoke again in a stronger voice. "Unlike you, Anthony cares for me and is there whenever I need him. I do not need to call or ask for his comfort, for he is there often before I realise how deeply I need him. I would rather be with a man who would offer me his whole heart, in return for my own, than a coward who could not bear to love a whore."
Finnegan closed the door in his face, before Gustavo had the chance to protest.
Hanging his head, he realised that he had done what Parry thought he may have; he had pushed Finnegan to the limits of his patience. In the time he had been away, hesitant and unsure of their bond, Finnegan had found solace with another, who had been there when Gustavo had not.
He had made the ultimate mistake and, deep down, suspected that his failure had more to do with the use of the word 'whore' than it did with his departure.
True or not, Gustavo would admit defeat and leave Finnegan to a better life, with a man who could care for him and offer the protection and comfort he needed. And he would take some solace in knowing that he had failed even before he gave himself a chance to try. For who could love a man who had called him such a terrible thing?