Justice

A story by Bard Boy [bard_boy(at)protonmail(dot)com]

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanciful fiction set in the future. None of this is real, nor an endorsement, nor a meaningful prediction. This isn’t futurism. This isn’t a manifesto. If it’s illegal for you to read material that involves descriptions of sex between adult men, sex between young boys, sexual exploration amongst children, and sex between adult men and teenagers, this is not the place for you. Don’t read on if that is the case.

Explainer: This is a (sort of) continuation – or rather, expansion – of the story left behind in Solstice. I wasn’t sure exactly how to categorise it on this site, so here it is. Readers of the Adult Friends, Adult-Youth, Incest, and Young Friends categories may find themes of interest here, though categorising it purely as any of the above would only disappoint or offend some readers of those categories. This isn’t a quick jerk-off story. If that’s what you’re looking for, I wrote one of those here. In fact, this story isn’t even that sexy. But it does contain sex – implied, mentioned in passing, reminisced about, and sometimes described in graphic detail.

A note on language use for non-UK readers: This story is largely set in the northeast of England, and many characters use vocabulary, phrases, and pronunciation which reflect patterns of speech in that part of the world. The most obvious example is in characters’ use of ‘mam’ to mean mother. Think Billy Elliot. James grew up almost entirely around Jake and Manny, speakers of West Midland English, whose patterns of speech, pronunciation, word choice, and idioms are markedly different from North East English. This is why James and Manny go for ‘mom’ over ‘mum’, use words like ‘scrage’ to mean a graze or cut to the skin, and drop phrases like ‘fart in a colander’, all while expecting other characters to understand what they mean.

Setting: The locations used in this story are all – with the exception of James & Manny’s old houses – absolutely real. I’d encourage readers to explore Google’s Street View if they want a better impression of how to see the world through James & Manny’s eyes.

Records of Events of the City of Durham

Wednesday 7^th July 2055

Weather: sunshine and cloud, muggy, still, 36°C (the man is out of the weather house)

Investigations and assessments in the case of Archie Stephens (AS) continue. AS will be speaking with James Martin and Emmanuel Kwame Addo again today.

A funeral has been arranged for Angelika Wojnowski at midday on Thursday 8^th July 2055 on Whinney Hill. It will be attended by friends, family, and the City Council.

Reports of foxes active on the south bank of the river. Precautions have been taken with livestock.

City Recorder: Mr James Martin

**

Archie had been on his best behaviour all morning. He got out of bed without fuss, emptied his own potty, and volunteered to wash properly by himself. He was polite and pleasant at their private breakfast, although not overly chatty. James hoped that meant things boded well for the rest of the day, but he didn’t want to set himself up for disappointment. It always seemed to be waiting just around the corner for him. Aaron was shy and sheepish when he dutifully arrived to clear the plates. He acknowledged Manny with a nod and quickly looked away when James nodded back, too. He didn’t look at Archie. He clattered and banged the crockery as he awkwardly rushed to finish his task. Another outing, another gut punch, thought James to himself, sighing internally, his stomach feeling like he’d raced over a hump-back bridge.

Archie’s good behaviour didn’t seem to be extending to an open session. They went in circles, discussing learning with the other children, playing with the other children, helping Harmonie around the house, and all sorts of not particularly insightful ephemera. It was becoming exhausting. James was mid-sentence when Shelley hopped in through the window and made herself at home on his desk. Archie was instantly distracted. James had little choice either. The tortoiseshell nuzzled her head against his elbow for attention.

“Does she just come in and out when she wants?” asked Archie.

“She’s the castle cat,” said James. “She owns the place.”

“Wish I owned a castle,” said Archie.

James gave in and tickled Shelley under her ginger and brown chin with his spidery fingers. The cat began to purr.

“Do you like animals?” asked James.

“We keep pigs at ours,” said Archie. “Me mam lets me bring the piglets into the house sometimes. They’re proper fluffy, like.”

“I grew up on a farm,” said James. “We always had goats and chickens around, and other animals from time to time too.”

“Can I have a go?” said Archie, staring at James fussing Shelley all around her face.

“Of course you can,” said James. “Come on.”

Archie got up from his seat and trotted, a little nervously, closer to the desk. He reached out a hand; a soft, little boy hand, James noticed, still baring the faint remnants of scratches. James could make out the downy blond hairs on Archie’s tanned arm as he reached out to touch the cat.

“Make a crook with your finger,” said James. “Hold it in front of her and let her have a sniff. Then she’ll know you’re friendly.”

Archie did as he was told. Shelley investigated his knuckle as he held it out on offer and rubbed the bridge of her little pink nose against it.

“There we go,” said James. “You’re in now.”

Archie slowly rubbed his knuckle back and forth against Shelley’s cheek, on the white side of her face. The cat continued to purr.

“Just be gentle with her, that’s a good boy. If you’re too rough, she’ll get scared or you might hurt her.”

“I got it,” smiled Archie, running his hand over Shelley’s head and shoulders with a feathery touch. Shelley narrowed her eyes and parted her mouth slightly; purred louder.

“Now you’re friends,” said James. “Maybe she’ll find a way to visit you in the night. She’s clever like that.”

“Did you have a cat when you were my age?” asked Archie, copying James’ motion to scratch Shelley under her chin, the cat craning her neck up to grant him access and giving another narrow-eyed cat smile.

“Nah, not cats,” said James. “I had a lion once, when I was a little bit older than you.”

“A lion!” squeaked Archie. “Dinnit tell fibs, man! I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. One day, Manny and I went out with our dad on the river, and…”

“You and Manny don’t have the same dad,” corrected Archie. “Manny’s dad was a black man. Look at him.”

James sighed. “We have different biological – I mean, real – dads, but we were both brought up and looked after by the same man. Family isn’t just who you share your genes with, you know.”

“You and Manny had to share your jeans?” squinted Archie, looking ever more lost.

“No. Well, yeah, actually. We used to swap clothes all the time. But what I meant was, family isn’t just who you share the same blood as. The man who cared for us, Jake, was our dad too – if you don’t mind me calling him that – because he loved and cared for us and we loved him back.”

“Oh,” said Archie. “Okay. Tell me about the lion then. I still don’t believe you.”

“Jake took me and Manny out fishing on the river one day, and we saw a little lion cub in the bushes. Jake reckoned there must have been some lions living up here in a zoo or park or something, and they’d gone wild. Who knows, maybe someone was looking after them? Or maybe they just found a nice warm cave for the winter and hunted all the deer. I dunno.”

Archie was watching with avid interest. He nodded his head along with James as he theorised about caves and deer. Archie evidently liked this story.

“Anyway, our dad said we could keep it as long as we took responsibility for it. He said it would probably die because it was so weak. We took her and cared for her, though. She was really sweet. She liked to pounce on our feet and play with our socks and that. And we house trained her. She was definitely the best pet I ever had.”

“So you grew up with a big lion on your farm?” gasped Archie, eyes wide with excitement.

“No,” said James.

“How come?” said Archie, furrowing his brow once again. “What happened?”

“Our dad was right,” said James. “She died.”

“Oh,” said Archie, looking at his feet. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah,” said James, reaching out to rub Archie on the elbow. “It’s fine, though. It was a long time ago.”

“S’pose,” said Archie.

“I have it all written down somewhere if you want to know more; if you still don’t believe me,” said James. “I used to keep records of important things then, just like I do now.”

“S’alright,” said Archie. “I don’t read very good. I believe you.”

“Thousands wouldn’t,” winked James. Archie gave a shy little smile and flopped back into his chair.

**

Jake had a little flat-bottomed boat that he kept upturned on the riverbank, the long pole that pushed it along hidden underneath. It took them around an hour to walk from the farm down to the riverbank where the boat was kept, but the boys adored going down to take it out on the water whenever the weather was good, and Jake was in the mood. This time – a warm, lazy early-summer day when James was thirteen and Manny twelve – much like the others, they arrived at the river in high spirits, James carrying their bag of snacks and water on his back, Jake and Manny taking care of the fishing gear in the hope of landing a tasty treat from the honey-brown waters.

It was around midday. Jake poked them down to a shady stretch of river with the long pole, pushing the boat along against the riverbed. Manny was wearing a floppy bucket hat, in red white and green, which read ‘Bulgaria’ across the front. James was in a faded blue Reebok cap, in thick material that absorbed his sweat. Mousey tufts of hair poked out from the back and over his ears at the sides, where it had grown long over the prior few months. Both boys were in shorts and tee-shirts, lazing stretched out in the boat as Jake pushed them on their bucolic ride through the water. Upon reaching the outside of a shady kink, he flopped down to join his boys, resting the pole inside the boat. A dragonfly whizzed low overhead of them, chasing midges pooling in shafts of sunlight. The eaves were alive with birdsong.

“James, pass me an apple?” said Manny.

James reached into his bag, which he’d been using as a pillow, and chucked Manny a fruit. It was a pear.

“Close,” said Manny. “It’ll do.”

The boat bobbed this way and that in the calmest region of the water. They lunched, sweated, chatted sparingly; enjoyed each other’s quiet company. Jake began to set up the fishing line. James sat up and stretched; smiled at Manny. He turned his head to stretch and a subtle movement on the bank caught his eye. His brow furrowed.

“What’s that?” he said.

“What?” said Manny.

“There’s something on the bank. Look!”

“Probably just a cat or something, James,” said Jake.

“I don’t think so,” said James, moving to lean over the side of the boat to take a closer look. “There, in the bushes! Something’s moving.”

The bushes were rustling. A couple of bees bumbled aimlessly away, having been disturbed. A slight breeze cooled Manny’s face as he was distracted by a wasp, which took momentary half-interest in the remains of his pear before shooting off on its way again. Only James was watching the bank.

“What the…? Jake, is that a lion?”

“Don’t be silly, James,” said Jake, still concentrating on the line.

“I thought lions only lived in Africa, not Britain,” said Manny.

“It’s a lion; I swear!” said James. “Look!”

Manny finally looked where James was pointing. “Woah! Look at this, Jake!”

Jake turned his head from the fishing line to where the two wide-eyed, grinning boys were pointing. There, flopped pathetically on the riverbank watching them, was a little lion cub.

“I told you!” bounced James. “You didn’t believe me, but it is a lion. See!”

“Oh my word,” said Jake. “You’re right, James. Some lions must have been at a zoo or safari park around here. I’m amazed they’ve survived.”

“It doesn’t look very happy,” said Manny.

“It looks poorly,” said James. “Can we keep it, Jake?”

“It was probably rejected by its parents,” said Jake. “If they’re struggling to scrape a living up here, they’re not going to want lots of babies. Especially weak and sickly ones.”

“So we have to save it!” said James.

“James, look at the poor little thing. It probably isn’t going to survive. That’s why its parents left it behind.”

“You saved us when we didn’t have anyone else,” said Manny. “Why can’t we take this lion, too? We might be able to make it better.”

“Yeah, Jake,” said James. “We have to look after it. It’s only fair.”

“We can’t just take a lion cub,” snorted Jake. “What if we’re wrong and its parents come back for it? How will we feed it?”

“It’s all alone and it’s gonna die, Jake,” pleaded James. “Look how sad and lonely it looks. We have to take it. Mrs Williams has milk.”

“Please, Jake,” Manny chipped in. “Think how cool it would be to have our own lion. Rawr! Nobody would be messing with us!”

The cub was flopped on its front on the bank, panting and eyeing them sadly.

“Okay, boys, here’s the deal,” said Jake. “If the cub is still alone by the time we’re done fishing, we’ll take it with us. But it’s your responsibility. You have to look after it. You have to clean up after it. You have to milk Mrs Williams for it, if that’s what you need to do. And you have to accept that it’s probably going to die, okay?”

“Thanks, Jake,” chirped James. “We’ll look after it; you’ll see.”

“This is gonna be so cool!” said Manny. “What should we name him?”

**

The cub was golden-eyed and sandy-furred. It didn’t struggle when James gathered it up and stepped with it onto the boat, cradling and stroking it and cooing like a proud mother.

“There we are, baby. Don’t be scared. Isn’t that better?”

“Can we give him some water?” said Manny.

“Good idea,” said Jake. “Pour a little into the cap and let him lap it out.”

The cub lapped thankfully and thirstily at the water, its tongue causing the liquid to spill and splash over Manny’s hand as James continued to coo encouragement at the little lion.

“He’s licking my fingers!” Manny giggled.

Jake was putting his catch into a plastic bag. It had been a successful afternoon; the reedy outer bank of the river, with its overhanging birch and bramble, had been a happy hunting ground. Two common carp and a chub. A chub and a cub. And two boys splashing happily in the water with their clothes off before they’d gathered up the stricken feline. The day had been idyllic, like inhabiting the sepia photographs of childhood holidays from decades before.

“Look how cute he is, Jake,” grinned James, holding the cub up for Jake to see.

“Are you sure it’s a he, James?” said Jake. “Look between its legs.”

James turned the cub around. “Oh! Sorry, baby!” he said. “I thought you were a boy, but you’re a pretty little girl, aren’t you?”

James rubbed noses with the cub. “Ra-aaouw!” it said.

“What should we call her, then?” said Manny.

“What’s a good lion name?” asked James.

“How about Nuala?” suggested Jake.

“Noo-lah?” said Manny. “Why?”

“I like it,” said James. “I think you like it too, don’t you, Nuala?”

“Ra-aaouw!” squeaked Nuala.

“Yeah, she does!” laughed Manny. He scratched her behind the ears. “Hello, Nuala. Welcome to our family!”

**

Summer, age 13. Trip to the river.

We got a lion cub!

It’s not a joke! We really did get a lion cub! It was lost at the side of the river where we went fishing on the boat. Jake said we can keep her as long as Manny and me look after her ourselves. We called her Nuala, and she’s the cutest girl in the world! She has golden eyes and tan fur with brown speckles, and she’s really fluffy! She makes an adorable noise, too, like she’s trying to roar but can only miaow. We’re so excited to have her.

Jake said some lions must’ve got away from a zoo or a park, years ago, and be trying to survive out in the wild here. It’s not their natural habitat, so it must be very difficult for them. We think that’s why Nuala was abandoned. She was just slumped at the side of the river. She looked so sad and lonely! As soon as I took her in my arms she was happier again. Manny fed her some water, and we took it in turns to carry her back home.

Jake says she’s likely to die, so we shouldn’t get too attached to her. But how could we not? She’s the cuddliest little baby girl there is! Plus he’s making us do everything for her. That’s obviously going to make us love her more! She loves to play with Manny’s socks. He takes them off and dangles them in front of her until she pounces on them and rolls around trying to kill and eat them. She’s so silly!

I had to milk Mrs Williams to get some milk to feed Nuala. Mrs Williams has two kids, but they’re used to us and not scared at all, so she has plenty of milk to spare and there isn’t a problem with me going and getting it from her. It felt really weird at first, especially because Mrs Williams seemed to really like it! It was a bit like wanking, actually… except Mrs Williams was squirting all the time, and I still (!) can’t do that. I really, really hope that happens soon. Even Manny can do it now. It’s getting embarrassing.

Tonight I’m going to take Nuala to my bed to sleep with me. Manny will have her tomorrow night. Jake says we shouldn’t have her in our beds because she could pee or poo in them, but I think she’ll be okay. She had a wee outside while we were feeding her, so she should be fine. We set up a litter box for her and we’ll keep bringing her there whenever she starts to go, so she knows that’s where she should be. I bet lions are easy to train because they’re so clever.

**

James fell asleep with Nuala cuddled into his tummy, her fluffy coat tickling his bare skin. Despite the buzz he still had from having discovered their new pet, the day had exhausted him. He was dreaming before he even knew he was asleep. All of a sudden, halfway through a sequence of him kayaking completely naked through a dense, discoloured jungle with Manny, he was roused by a sudden heat and discomfort. Something was moving next to him. He woke up.

“Mmph!” he said, furrowing his brow against the disturbance, eyes still closed. Something felt wrong. He reached down under the bedcovers. His underpants were stuck to his body. He felt something furry, and then a hot, wet patch beneath it, soaked into the bedsheets in a little circular puddle around his stomach and hips. It was almost as if the lion cub had tried to frame him.

“Nuala!” James groaned.

“Ra-aaouw!” said Nuala, nuzzling against James’ sleepy face and licking his nose.

James sighed and pulled the cub to his chest, cradling her as he swung his legs out of bed and stood up. He placed Nuala on his desk chair and stripped out of his sodden boxers, reaching for a towel hung sloppily over a corner of the desk to rub in between his legs and over the damp patches of his abdomen. He set about yanking off the bedsheet in the dark, taking far longer than it should have done, and probably making more noise than necessary too. He didn’t care. He stung inside that Jake had been right about taking Nuala to bed, and he was determined to get on with it himself no matter what. He threw the wet sheet in a balled-up mess in the middle of the bedroom floor, folded the towel over the slightly moist patch left on the bare mattress, and scooped Nuala into his arms to shuffle back into bed with her.

“No going wee-wee in the bed anymore, got it?” he said, holding the cub by the chest so her face hung into his.

Nuala growled and batted her right paw against James’ left cheek. “Ra-aaouw!” she purred, and licked his lips.

**

Summer, age 13. Nuala the lion cub!

Jake was right. Nuala wet my bed. Sigh. She went right on my pants and belly button, like she was trying to make it look like I’d done it! I told her she was a naughty girl, but she’s too cute to stay angry with.

When Jake saw what had happened he helped me wash the sheets and towel and my pants, and to sponge the mattress clean again. He kissed me on the head and said I was a good dad. That made me feel a lot better.

Manny says he’ll still take her tonight, but we should make sure she’s done all her business before she gets into bed. I thought I’d done that last night, but obviously not. Oh well.

I milked Mrs Williams again. I think I’m getting good at it slowly. The kids seem really jealous when I’m taking milk away from their mother! They get their own back, though. They’re much bigger than Nuala and she’s scared of them.

**

Jake, James and Manny were sprawled out on the living room floor playing Lord of the Rings: Journeys in Middle Earth, when Nuala trotted over to the litter box by herself and started taking a dump.

“Good girl!” chirped James.

“Look at her go!” laughed Manny.

“I have to say, I’m very impressed with you two,” said Jake. “You must be doing something very right.”

“Thanks Jake,” smiled Manny. James just grinned. Nuala hopped out of the litter box and trotted over to snuggle under Manny’s armpit as he lay full length on his front on the floor, propped up by his elbows.

“Ra-aaouw!” she said.

“We’d better clear that out now she’s finished,” said Jake.

“I’ll do it,” sighed James.

“Let me help you,” said Jake. “I think you’ve both earned the right to have me help take care of her.”

“Thanks,” smiled James. “Love you.”

“Love you both too,” said Jake.

“You the man, big daddy!” laughed Manny, scratching Nuala behind a round, fluffy ear.

Jake watched as James picked up the litter box, holding it away from himself at arms-length.

“It’s a bit of a funny colour, isn’t it?” Jake said.

“You’re disgusting, Jake,” said James. “Really disgusting.”

**

Autumn, age 13. Nuala the lion cub.

Nuala died.

She’d been ill for a few days. She was hot and sneezing and her poo had gone all runny.

She didn’t want to eat anymore.

Nuala died in my arms.

Me, Jake and Manny buried her under the chicken coop. She used to love chasing them around. Jake told us off for letting her get in there. Now he helped us make sure she’s there for ever.

Sorry for all the splashes on the page. I couldn’t help it.

**

James met Manny again for lunch. They arrived just as Tracey and Theo were leaving, which resulted in some happy greetings, kisses, and cuddles. Theo was grinning like a madman as he turned to wave his Daddy and Uncle James off, before skipping away out into the castle courtyard. Mammy was taking him to see the goats.

Lunch was another simple, soupy broth. Manny finished first and headed off; he had things to do before speaking to Archie later that afternoon. He told James he’d catch up with him when they swapped over between sessions. James was in less of a rush. There was no point in him hurrying and then finding that Archie was still eating his lunch in his room.

It was when James was sat alone, at the top corner of his table, that Aaron came nervously lolloping over. James greeted him warmly.

“Hi, Aaron. You alright?”

“Hi, James,” Aaron replied, hiding a nervous frown by immediately finding something interesting on the table to look at.

“Everything okay?” said James.

“Yeah,” replied Aaron, still looking at James’ empty bowl and fingering the edge of the table.

“You sure?”

“Erm… Ryan said he saw you going to talk to Immy yesterday,” said Aaron. “Is it because… is it cos of what I said?”

“I don’t understand, Az.”

“Was you asking Immy to send me back to learning with her cos of me… cos I told on yous playing with Archie?”

“No!” replied James, gently touching Aaron on the elbow and trying to get the boy to look at him. “Why would I do that?”

“I thought you was upset cos it was my fault that people was angry with you and acting all horrid, like. I’m sorry. I like you being my teacher and I don’t want to go back with the younger kids.”

“Aaron…” began James, with a sigh. “Aaron, look at me. I’m not angry or upset with you. You’re twelve years old. It’s not your fault about anything that happens between adults in this city, you understand?”

“Aye, but…”

“No, Aaron. If people want to find an excuse to be nasty with me, that’s their fault. Not yours. I bet you just mentioned what you saw when you got back to the kitchens because you were surprised. Is that it?”

“Aye. I didn’t mean owt by it. Promise.”

“Come here, Aaron,” said James, pulling the boy to his side with an arm around his waist. “I’m not upset with you, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. I went to see Immy yesterday because there was stuff I needed to ask her about the work I’m doing, that’s all.”

“So you’re still gonna teach us?”

“I hope so. If you want me to?”

“Course I do!”

“Well there you go then. No problem!”

“Thanks, James,” said Aaron, smiling down at his teacher.

“I didn’t do anything,” James grinned back. “Say hi to Ryan for me.”

Aaron grinned. “I will. Erm… James?”

“Yeah?”

“Ryan likes you, y’knaa.”

James chuckled. “He’s a good lad. I think I’m a bit old for him right now though. Maybe he should stick to liking boys his own age for a while.”

“Aye,” Aaron smirked. “Actually… can you keep a secret?”

“Depends if you want to tell me,” grinned James.

“It’s… Nah, actually it’s nothing. Forget I said owt.”

“Forget what?” said James. Aaron gave him a fist bump and was off on his way.

**

Archie had just finished his lunch when James arrived to collect him and was in a talkative mood. James led him to the toilet, and Archie bounced along all the way.

“I liked the lunch today,” bounced Archie, skipping ahead up the stairs between his floor and James’ office. “Was much better to have hot food than just fruit yesterday.”

“Well, good job for you that you have me and Manny watching your back,” replied James.

“Yeah, I–” Archie began, turning his head to look at James climbing the stairs behind him. He never finished his thought. Not looking where he was going, he tripped and landed heavily on all fours on the hard, stone steps, banging both knees and shins.

“Owwouwww!” whined Archie, rolling onto his side against the wall, tearing up, and rubbing both legs down at once with his hands. He’d leapt from the boyishly exuberant to the boyishly pathetic.

James was reminded of himself at that age. He had a thing – as he imagined most kids probably did – for going out and running around like a lunatic whenever he’d been trapped inside for a few days by the weather. The one time, when he was nine, he’d run off by himself into the woods and fallen in a bog. Another time, when he was ten, he barely made it out of the front door. He was in such a rush to get outside that he ran for the open door ahead of Jake and tripped on the doorstep, going flying into the yard and skinning his knees and elbows as he landed on the stony ground. Jake had picked him up and sat him on his lap while he bawled. It’s alright, Jamey. We’ll get you cleaned up. You silly boy, eh? What d’you have to run around like a nutter for? Rushing around like a fart in a colander, that’s your problem. James had gurgled out a saliva-choked giggle, his eyes still streaming, and instantly felt better, in spite of the stinging in both his knees and elbows. Jake gently sponged his cuts clean, and it was all forgotten before they’d even begun to scab over. Kids’ bodies are built for regeneration.

James knelt down to offer a hand up to Archie. “You silly goose,” he said. “Rushing around like a fart in a colander, that’s your problem!”

Archie giggled and let James help him up. His knees glowed red.

“Alright?” asked James.

“You talk proper funny sometimes,” replied Archie.

“You like it when grown-ups are silly, don’t you Arch?”

Archie nodded as James led him up the remaining stairs by his hand.

“Maybe we can talk a bit more about that when we’re inside and settled.”

James gave Archie some time to compose himself in the office. He poured him another drink of cordial. Archie thanked him politely. James wondered if it was all becoming a little bit of a game.

“You’re being very polite today, Arch.”

Archie shrugged. “I’m just trying to be good. Dinnit want to cause yous any more trouble, like.”

“Who do you mean?”

“You and Manny, like. You’re both proper kind to me.”

“You think so?”

“Aye.”

James was rubbing the blunt end of a pen against his lips. He watched Archie take a sip of his drink and give him a satisfied smile.

“That nice?” asked James.

“Yeah,” answered Archie. “Me mam don’t make owt like this. She dunnaa the recipe.”

“I think you just squash berries and add a bit of lemon juice,” shrugged James. “Then you mix it with water when you want to drink it.”

“I’ll tell her that,” nodded Archie. Then he stopped and seemed to be troubled by a passing thought. “I will see me mam again, won’t I?”

“Of course you will,” said James. He was surprised Harmonie hadn’t been back to the castle every minute of the day to see him. “I bet she misses you all the time.”

“Aye,” sighed Archie. “I miss her too. And Bella.”

“I’ll make sure you see them soon,” promised James. Archie smiled. His body relaxed again. “Until then,” added James, “you’ll just have to be silly with me instead.”

“I never knew blokes was allowed to be silly,” said Archie.

“How come?”

“All the men I’ve seen are serious all the time.”

“You must have seen grown-up men being silly sometimes,” said James.

Archie thought for a while. “Aye,” he said. “But that’s normally cos they’re just drunk, then after they get all lairy, like.”

“Being silly doesn’t make me get lairy,” said James, pulling a silly face and holding his hands up.

Archie laughed. “Nah, I dinnit think you ever get lairy,” he said. “You’re not like… like a tough guy.”

“Really?” chuckled James.

“Not in a bad way, like…” Archie defended.

“Not offended,” said James, shaking his head. “What about Manny? Is he a tough guy?”

“More than you,” giggled Archie. “But I like Manny. He’s nice. He can be silly too, I bet.”

“So, you don’t like tough guys then?”

“Not really.”

“Is that because you hate bullies, Archie? Are tough guys always bullies?”

“Dunnaa.”

James felt like he was hitting treacle again. He pedalled harder.

“I spoke to Immy yesterday afternoon,” he said. “She was one of the people teaching you to read and write and add up, and things like that, wasn’t she?”

“Aye,” confirmed Archie. “What’s she said about us?”

“Nothing bad,” lied James. “Just that sometimes you’d have trouble with the other boys around your age. Is that true?”

“I never caused no trouble,” said Archie.

“Were they bullies, Archie?”

“Aye,” he said. “They was always nasty to me.”

“How come?”

“They called me names and stuff. They never wanted to play with me.”

“What sort of names, Arch? Is it okay to tell me?”

“S’pose…” he sighed. “Well… they’d call me stuff like tramp, and pikey boy, and say that I’m thick, and that I smell, and all that.”

“None of that’s very nice, is it?”

“No,” said Archie. “And I can’t help it if I only came here when I was nearly seven, can I? And that it’s just me and me sister and me mam and we live on us own.”

“Did they say things about that, Arch?”

“Yeah, they’d be asking where me dad was, and calling me mam lazy and a scrounger and all that.”

“That’s horrible, Archie,” said James. And he meant it. Pity, anger, and frustration competed for supremacy over the inside of his torso. “Did you ever tell Immy, or one of the other adults?”

“I tried,” said Archie, “but they never want to listen to me either. S’like I don’t really count the same as the other kids. Cos everyone here is mates with everyone else’s family, like. They think we’re just… I dunnaa… like nothing. Nobodies, like.”

“I don’t think you’re a nobody, Arch,” said James.

“Thanks,” said Archie. He smiled an unhappy smile, kicked his legs, and took another sip of cordial.

“Does your mom know that the others have been making you feel this way?”

“Aye. I think all the grown-ups are like that with her and all.”

“I wish I’d known, Archie,” said James. “Manny and I would’ve been your friends.”

Archie seemed genuinely taken aback. He stared at James with tears in his eyes. “Really?” he said. “But wouldn’t all the others be funny with you?”

“Who cares?” shrugged James. “I don’t have a problem with who you, your mom, and your sister are, or where you come from. You want to know a secret?”

“What?” nodded Archie.

“Most of the grown-ups around here didn’t come from Durham. I’m probably one of the adults born closest to the city, and I still get treated differently sometimes. They’re all hypocrites – you know what that means, Archie?”

“Does it mean they’re two-faced?”

“Sort of,” said James. “It means they act like certain things are important, but then never live up to those things themselves.”

“I get it,” said Archie. “I met a lot of people like that in my life.”

“Do you miss not having a dad around, Archie?”

“Not really.”

“Is that because all the men from before, by the sea, were all tough guys?”

“Aye. Better off without those blokes.”

“What kind of things did they do that were so bad, Arch?” asked James, looking Archie sincerely in the eyes. “Would you tell me? Help me understand?”

“They was just… bad people,” sighed Archie. “We had to do whatever they said and they never let us do what we wanted.”

“How do you mean?”

“Like, the women had to do all the cooking and stuff, and they’d drag them around for no reason and take them away to do stuff to them, like.”

“Bad stuff?”

“Aye. Like, hurting them. And… y’knaa… s-e-x stuff.”

“Did you ever see them doing that, Archie?”

Archie shook his head. “The blokes didn’t want us bairns around when they was doing the grown-up stuff,” he said. “But I saw them hitting and kicking the women sometimes. And sometimes putting their hands up their clothes and stuff. Or making the women do that to them.”

“Your mom too?”

“Me mam especially.”

“What about you kids?”

“They always wanted us to be quiet and not get in their way. They’d get proper raging if we was too loud or distracted them from what they was doing. Especially if they’d had a few too many, like.”

“Did they hurt you too?”

Archie nodded. He lowered his head and played with his fingernails in his lap.

“Badly?”

“Mostly they’d just shout, or give us a clout if we was being too loud or annoying, like. Like, a clip round the ear. Sometimes they’d smack us bums...”

Archie trailed off. He was fidgeting in his chair. He reached to take another sip of his drink, but nearly spilled it. James noticed Archie’s hand trembling.

“I wish I could’ve borrowed your lion,” sighed Archie. “They would’ve been scared of that. Then they’d have left us alone.”

“Archie, is there something else you need to tell me?” James asked, quietly and gently.

Archie nodded. He closed his eyes and slumped back into his chair.

“Do you want to come and sit with me while you tell me? Would that help?”

Archie nodded. He padded silently across the short space between them and plonked himself gently on James’ lap. James drew Archie into a cuddle. The boy began to sob into James’ collar.

“It was my fault!” he cried.

“What was, Archie?” soothed James, gently, holding the boy close and stroking his back. “What happened?”

“I was being a pest,” he blubbered. “Darren wanted to do stuff with me mam, but she’d been playing with me and I didn’t want her to go. He sat her on the couch and put his hand inside her shirt. I shouted at him and tried to pull his arm away, so he slapped me round me face and I fell on the floor. Then he had me over his knee and he was belting me hard…”

“Shh, Archie,” whispered James, rocking and stroking the boy as he heaved great breaths between sobs. “None of that was your fault. You were just a little boy.”

“That’s not the end of it,” squeaked Archie through his whimpers. “Me mam tried to stop him, so he went for her instead. I wasn’t wearing no clothes or nowt cos I was just a bairn, so he got me mam over his knee like I was. He pulled all her clothes off in front of everyone there; all the other blokes, and the women, and the bairns; and he smacked her bum in my place, hard as he could. All cos I was too naughty!”

“No, Archie,” whispered James, cradling Archie’s limp body and rocking him up and down, back and forth. “You weren’t to blame for any of that. You weren’t the grown-up. The bad men were. Darren was the grown-up. He shouldn’t have been doing anything that he did. How old was he? How old were you?”

“I was six…” sobbed Archie.

“See, there you go, then,” said James. “You couldn’t be to blame for any of that when you were six. You couldn’t be to blame for anything wrong that grown-ups did.”

“Maybe not that…” said Archie. “But me mam managed to get away from him, while he was spanking her, like. He went after her and had her trapped in the corner. He said he’d teach her a lesson in front of everyone, said she was a bitch and all nasty stuff like that. I went to try and stop him. I stood in between them. He kicked me as hard as he could, right out the way. Then while I was lying on the floor, he dragged me mam away to his bed, by her hair. She was screaming, James. She was screaming so loud!”

“Shh… it’s better now, Arch. You’re not with those bad men anymore. You didn’t make any of that happen. There’s nothing you or your mom could’ve done.” James was rubbing his hand back and forth over Archie’s ribs. He felt a bump in two of the lower bones, near the bottom left of his chest, and a shiver ran down his spine. He felt like someone had thrown ice water all over him.

“That’s where he kicked me,” whispered Archie, lying, cried out, against James’ neck.

“You’re such a brave boy, Archie,” said James. “Such a brave boy for telling me all this.”

“I knaa it made me cry, like,” he sniffled. “But it made me feel better to tell you, now I done it.”

“I’m glad, Archie.”

“So, that’s why we had to run away,” said Archie. “Cos a few months later, me mam had got pregnant again, and she didn’t want to stay there anymore and have another bairn getting hurt like I was. ’Cept I’m just as bad as them blokes now, aren’t I? Cos I hurt someone too.”

“How did you get away, Arch?”

“Me mam slipped us away in the middle of the night, in the pitch dark,” he said. “We only took a few clothes and one toy. I took me boat that me granddad had made for me mam. I didn’t want the other bairns getting hold of that. It’s our special thing.”

“Did they not come after you?”

“Aye,” nodded Archie. “They nearly caught us, even.”

“What happened?”

“They was right behind us, on the river, near where that big place is with the circle of grass and all the seats.”

“The cricket ground in Chester-le-Street?”

“I dunnaa. But they almost got us. Then we heard two blokes coming in the other direction. They was almost on top of all of us; me, me mam, and Darren and the other blokes that was chasing us, like. The two blokes was just walking along the other side of the trees, laughing and joking. We could see Darren’s face through the bushes behind us, like. Then one of the other blokes shouted something to Darren. Summat like, he’s got fucking arrows, man! I dunnaa what that meant. So they just turned around and ran off, so me mam grabbed me and ran and we ended up carrying on down here.”

James looked down at Archie with saucerplate eyes. Archie looked back, sniffling, eyes reddened and bloodshot, still full of tears. His eyelashes had some gunk in them.

“When was that, Archie? When did all this happen?”

“Dunnaa,” shrugged Archie. “When I was six. In the summertime. Like it is now.”

“This time four years ago?”

“Aye. S’pose so.”

James’ mind raced. An annual pilgrimage. Bow and quiver on his back. Manny by his side. Three unkempt, shady-looking men making off into the distance, by the Lumley Park Burn at Chester-le-Street.

They had already saved Archie once before.

**

James and Manny entered the cathedral together, taking the large, arched main door into the rear of the nave, opening out of the mighty north side onto the green. The air inside was warm and thick, smelling of old wood and dusty stone, pressing oppressively down on them from the heady heights of the peaked nave ceiling, many metres above. Light flooded in through the circular window of the Chapel of the Nine Altars, far beyond the transepts and choir to their left, and the arched stained glass between the Galilee Towers, high to their right, on the west wall that formed the bottom of the mighty cross shape of the building. The wooden pews were broken down in numerous places, stolen for firewood or building material, but the stone of the enormous, blocky cathedral towered above them still, effortlessly complete. It had stood for a thousand years before, and who was to say it would not stand for a thousand more? Manny couldn’t help craning his neck to admire the ornate decoration of the stone ceiling, criss-crossed like an Easter bun.

“Lead us not into temptation,” said James, “but deliver us from evil.”

Manny chuckled. “I thought Jake brought you up strictly godless?”

“Even Jake knew the Lord’s Prayer,” said James. “Even if he did used to sing that song: Jesus is just a Spanish boy’s name to me.”

“Don’t forget the other one,” said Manny. “I am the resurrection and I am the life.”

“He took me to a cathedral before,” said James. “In Birmingham. It was the day we met you.”

“Do you want to go and look at the tomb of St Cuthbert?” said Manny. James allowed him to change the subject. He knew not to pry too much into Manny’s life before he lived with James and Jake.

“I bet he’s not really in there,” said James. “Or it’s not really his bones.”

“Probably not,” said Manny. “Let’s go into the cloisters.”

Manny led the way across the nave of the cathedral, zigzagging between broken pews to work their way to the next arched doorway, from the south aisle into the covered quadrangle of the cloisters. A square stone corridor stood covered by a rooftop, looking out onto the central green through stone archways.

“Remember when Jake found us that Harry Potter DVD?” said James. “That was here. The corridor bits.”

“I know,” said Manny. “You’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, haven’t you?”

“I can’t help it,” said James. “With Archie… I just wonder what he would have made of it all; what he would have said and done. It’s like I trust him more than I trust myself on it, even though I know that’s ridiculous, and he’s gone…”

“I’ve been doing the same,” said Manny. “It’s natural, isn’t it? He raised us both.”

“The only father I ever knew.”

“Me too, pretty much.”

“I keep remembering things from the past; looking at old notes and thinking about things to do with Archie. At least, I think they’re to do with Archie. It’s like I’m trying to see parallels and patterns, but they might not ever really be there.”

“Same,” said Manny. “I know how you feel. It’s hard to make sense of it all.”

They leaned on the wall, arms crossed, and looked out onto the grass between the covered corridors; the corridors of Hogwarts School. A chaffinch landed and pecked at the soil, seeking out a worm, only to be chased away by an incoming carrion crow.

“I’m realising all the time how lucky we were,” said James. “Like, properly appreciating it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some of the stuff that’s happened to that boy and his mom; the things that he’s seen men do… I mean, is it any wonder that his head’s messed up enough for him to flip and kill a girl?”

“Suppose not,” sighed Manny, looking at James seriously. “How bad is it?”

“It sounds like his mom was one of a few women kept by a gang of blokes. He doesn’t know which one his dad was…”

“Fuck,” said Manny. “Did they do things to him, too?”

“Nothing particularly sexual, at least not that he’s mentioned,” said James, shaking his head. “But it sounds like they weren’t shy of slapping him about if he got on their nerves just for being a little boy. Or sometimes hurting him just for fun.”

“Poor little lad. Explains a lot.”

“At one point, he got brave and tried to stop his mom getting picked on by the one bloke. He got kicked in the chest so hard, I think… I think it broke his ribs. You can feel the ridge in the bones when you touch him, where they must’ve healed up.”

“Fucking hell!” shrieked Manny, his eyes bugging. “How did we not know this before? How did I not notice when I was examining him?”

“Apparently, when his mom was pregnant again with his sister, they escaped and came here,” said James. He looked Manny deep in the eye. “He said some of the men had caught up with them on the river, by the cricket ground. They heard two other men laughing and joking coming in the other direction, hidden behind the trees. They paused long enough for Harmonie to slip them both away again, and the men were worried about ending up in a fight so gave up and turned back.”

“Wait…” said Manny. “At Chester-le-Street? When was this?”

James nodded. “Around this time, four years ago.”

“But that means…” Manny shook his head like he was trying to rattle a lost thought loose. “It was us. They got away because of us.”

“Yeah,” said James. He turned and rested his backside against the inside wall of the cloister, turning his back to the grass quadrangle outside. Manny stood in place, looking dumbstruck.

“That’s unreal, man,” he said.

“Manny,” said James, “remember those boys at the park, when you’d just turned twelve?”

“Oh yeah,” replied Manny. “I do, actually.”

“That was their life, wasn’t it? The same as those women like Harmonie.”

“I don’t want to think about it, Jay. It breaks my heart.”

**

It was the first year they’d returned to the winter house. It was the depths of winter, and they’d celebrated Manny’s twelfth birthday the week before, the boy beaming with pride as Jake handed over a pair of toy rifles that fired little foam balls, which he’d found while out scavenging for supplies. Manny and James spent the rest of the day running around the house firing balls at each other and squealing. It eventually evolved into ‘strip gunfight’, where the boys had to take off an item of clothing every time they got hit. Outside, a blizzard raged, the street hidden by a whiteout. They fell asleep on the sofa early that evening, and Jake left them there, covered over with quilts stolen from the two spare beds.

A week later, on a cold, clear day, when the sky hung yellow with idle snowclouds, the boys wrapped up warm and went out to play over the back field, while Jake tried to deal with the frozen-over rain catcher. They climbed the wire fence and pushed out onto the vanilla-glazed parkland with the intention of building a snowman. They worked together to try and build up the first big ball for the lower body, having to raise their voices to beat the muffle of the scarves over their faces and the hoods over their woolly-hatted heads. James was bending over, squatted forward on his toes to push a growing ball of snow together with the coating on the ground. Neither of them saw it coming. A snowball smashed into James’ neatly presented backside at velocity, making him yelp and start forward, catching himself on his gloved hands in the snow, while Manny quickly caught him by his shoulders. James groaned as he felt the frigid liquid soak through the back of his undies.

Manny hauled James up and swung around to take a few steps towards a boy standing a few metres away from them. He looked about their age.

“What do you want?” barked Manny.

“Chill, I was just messing,” smirked the boy. He began to walk towards them. Manny took a few more steps forward, putting himself between James and the boy. He was big-boned; broad, round-faced, and stocky – but not particularly chubby. He didn’t seem dressed for the cold of December. He had a coat and gloves on, but his face was exposed. Brown eyes. Floppy dark blond hair. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes looked tired; dark circles underneath his lower lids.

“You weren’t messing; you were being a dick,” said Manny. “We don’t know you and you threw a snowball at us.”

“Alright; I’m Jude,” he said. “Now you know me. What’s your names?”

“I’m Manny; this is James. You should apologise to him for what you just did.”

“Whatever. I’m sorry, James. Is that better?”

“No,” said Manny.

“Leave it, Manny,” said James. “It’s okay.”

“See?” said Jude. Manny scowled at him.

Two more boys, smaller than Jude, had gathered behind him.

“This is Mike,” said Jude, pointing a thumb at the boy to his left, who looked perhaps nine. He also looked cold, as well as miserable. He had short brown hair, with a hint of curl to it, and Husky-like ice blue eyes. A brace of freckles sat over the bridge of his nose. His skin was pale, face flushed against the cold, bright red lips leaking vapour with every breath.

Jude turned to the other boy. “The little ’un is Harry,” he said. Harry looked even less like he wanted to be there than Mike. He was visibly shivering and looked utterly lost and miserable. His floppy dark brown hair hung at jaunty boyish angles over his face, as well as sticking up in the air in random places. He had the stick skinniness of a little boy, his coat sleeves hanging far over his hands. He probably didn’t have any gloves. He looked down, obscuring his eyes from James and Manny. James smiled at the boy, while pulling awkwardly at his wet bum with one hand, trying to prevent his now freezing-wet boxers and joggers from sticking to his skin. Harry was the one he felt most sorry for. James guessed he was maybe eight.

“We’ve never seen you around here before,” observed Jude.

James was about to respond that it was probably because they weren’t always there, but Manny cut across him.

“We’ve never seen you around here before,” Manny countered. “So what do you want?”

“Just saw you and wondered if you want to play,” shrugged Jude.

“You all look really cold, especially Harry,” said James. “Are you sure you want to play out?”

“Course,” said Jude. “Ignore Harry. He’s only a baby.”

James wanted to take Jude to task, but Manny took control again.

“We’re building a snowman,” he said. “You can help if you really want, but it’ll be no good if he hasn’t got gloves.” He nodded towards Harry, who was watching the patterns he made as he rotated his feet in the snow.

“He can just watch,” said Jude. “Harry doesn’t mind.”

Mike sneezed.

“Our dad will be out any minute now,” said Manny. “Maybe we can ask him to bring some gloves for Harry from the house?”

Jude’s eyes widened. “Oh, you live near here?”

Manny nodded. Jude seemed to be thinking on his feet.

“Oh, okay. Maybe you can show us later.”

Mike looked uncomfortable. Harry hummed to himself quietly through his shivers as he watched his feet form a hollowed-out semicircle in the snow.

“You’ve found some more playmates!” called a man, approaching from the same direction the three boys had appeared from. James thought he was trying to sound friendly, but it rang false. It came across as sinister.

Mike turned and glanced at the man, before casting his gaze to the ground in front of him. Harry continued humming and watching his feet. Jude eyeballed James and Manny uncertainly. From the patterns of the vapour of his breath, it almost seemed that he was panting. James moved as close to Manny as he could, pressing the front of his left shoulder into Manny’s right. It was a subtle way of telling him he wanted them to go home, and he hoped Manny was on the same wavelength.

The man marched towards them. “Are they on their own too, like us? Have you asked them if they want to come and have some lunch at ours?”

Manny reached for James’ hand. Jude kept eyeballing them. He looked like he was leaning in closer.

“Lovely hot food!” bellowed the man. “Nice and tasty. Fill you up. You won’t regret it!”

Jude leaned right in between James and Manny’s faces. This close, they could see him in all his fine detail. They were wrong to assume he was tired. The marks under his eyes were the faded, yellowy remains of bruises. There was a line down the side of his nose where a scratch had almost healed. A little cut to the corner of his mouth, like something had forced it open, was still just about visible.

“Run!” he hissed. “Run!”

Manny bolted first, still holding James’ hand. He let go and they were sprinting side by side, the three sad boys stood watching them, like snow children frozen on the heath.

“Oi!” shouted the man, darting to try to head them off. “Oi! Get back here! Little shits!”

Manny made it to the fence between the field and the lane first. He scrambled over it, hardly caring if he landed awkwardly in the frosted-over nettles. James went second. The man was almost on top of them. James hoisted a leg over, but his trailing foot caught in the mesh. He cried out. Manny hauled him with all his might, grazing James’ shin hard over the concrete fence post as he was dragged over, away from the man’s grasping hands near his feet. They fell in a heap on the nettles, supported by Manny’s back.

As they got up, they stole a wide-eyed glance each at the man, snarling, baring yellowed teeth, as he tried to vault the fence after them. They raced through the shed and into their garden.

“Jake! Jake!”

Jake was done on the roof. He had been in the kitchen, so could easily fly through the back door to meet his panicked boys on the frozen lawn, between dormant rows of vegetable plants.

“What’s the matter? What’s happened?”

“There’s a man!” cried Manny. “He’s after us!”

“He had boys!” shouted James. “He tried to get us to go with them!”

“We wouldn’t, so he chased after us!” Manny squealed. The boys were beside themselves. James didn’t know exactly why, but he burst into tears, feeling the stinging pain in his left shin and the icy damp of the seat of his pants twice as strongly. That, and the look on Jude’s face as he told them to run, and Mike and Harry’s strange behaviour. He sat down on the floor and heaved. Manny joined him. He’d started crying too.

“Right!” bellowed Jake. “Right!”

He sprinted to the shed and rattled a metal drawer open so fast a drift of snow tumbled from the roof of the large wood and uPVC structure.

“What are you doing?” wailed Manny. He scrambled to his feet and chased after Jake. James followed.

Jake had his granddad’s air rifle. He burst into the lane in a fit of rage. The berserker cometh; fear ye his wrath.

“Where are you?” he screamed, at the top of his lungs. “Where are you?”

There was no sign of a disturbance in the lane. He hurdled the fence almost unthinkingly. Manny and James raced up behind and watched from behind it, their fingers gripping the wire along the rim. They were too frightened to step further away from the house.

Jake spotted the figure of a man making off towards the far side of the field with three boys. He roared and fired a shot into the air, the sound rattling off the walls of the houses all around the park.

In the distance, one of the smaller boys – probably Harry – hit the ground in fright. The man mercilessly hauled him up by his wrist and broke into a quick jog. The boys had to keep pace alongside him as they disappeared through the old side car park, between the bushes, and out into the jungle of the deserted suburbs.

Jake lowered the gun and stood a while at the edge of the field, his mind racing to nowhere. Eventually, he turned for home and saw James and Manny, still wrapped up heavily against the cold, watching him from the lane side of the fence. He moved towards them and hopped over.

“Come on,” he said, drawing the two shell-shocked boys into his arms. “Let’s go home.”

Jake dropped his granddad’s rifle back in the drawer and locked the back door of the shed. James and Manny clung to him. He realised the three of them were sobbing.

“The bad man isn’t coming back,” he said, through his tears. “Let’s go inside and get you both in a nice bath to warm up.”

**

With Archie busy with Manny, James headed to see Harmonie. He wasn’t sure whether he was looking for answers, offering sympathies, or just fighting Archie’s corner. Whatever it was, that’s what he did.

He took the back alley through the rear of the buildings on the east side of Palace Green, and he entered Hatfield to cut the corner around to the high bridge. He was passing the back corner of the college when he ran into familiar fun again.

“Uncle James!”

“Theo!”

Theo launched himself for pick-up hugs at James again. “We saw the goats!”

“Really?” said James. “I saw them yesterday. Did you say hello to Cybi?”

“Cybi was yours and daddy’s goat, wasn’t he?”

“That’s right.”

“He’s old.”

“Thanks,” chuckled James.

“Hi, James,” said Tracey, a pair of scissors in one hand and a little sprig of something in the other. “We were going to come and find you. Would you like to come and have dinner with us tonight? Just the four of us?”

“That’d be great,” smiled James. “How come?”

“Just fancied it,” shrugged Tracey. “The kitchen had some leftover lentils and tomatoes that were going off, so they were offering them round earlier. I took them. Thought we could have a little family meal.”

“Nice!” said James.

“Pop over when you’ve finished work,” said Tracey. “We’ll make an evening of it.”

“I’m gonna help mammy cook all the food,” squeaked Theo, bouncing in James’ arms.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you Theo?” said James.

“Yeah!” he giggled proudly.

“Right, little man,” said Tracey. “Are you going to let your Uncle James get back to what he was doing?”

“Can’t we play a little bit?”

“You’ll see him later!” said Tracey.

“Just… two or one minutes!” protested Theo.

“Sorry, big boy,” said James, lowering Theo back to the ground. “I’ve got work to do, so I can’t play until later.”

“Will you play farms with me then?” whined Theo. “I got all the animal toys and the house.”

“If you’ve got the bricks, we could build some more farm buildings,” nodded James. “Promise.”

“Alright,” sighed Theo. He evidently hadn’t mastered delayed satisfaction quite yet.

“I’ll see you both later,” said James, getting back on his way.

“See you later, James,” called Tracey, watching James haul the side door of the college open. “Theo, say bye-bye to Uncle James.”

“Bye, Uncle James! Remember to play with me later!”

James hummed to himself happily as he made his way to the Stephens’ house – surely, he thought, retracing the steps Archie had taken to the river on Monday, only in reverse. He didn’t feel apprehensive anymore, but he still wasn’t entirely sure what he would say. Hopefully the moment would come to him. He strolled down Hallgarth Street, past the old Victoria pub, still intact in its Victorian grandeur, but sadly unloved. Dan came by to strip out more of the old bottles of spirits whenever his top shelf ran dry. He turned left up The Hallgarth; a strangely narrow, winding lane that ran between the backs of houses and the walls of the old prison. Gone were the days of being able to conveniently lock away undesirables in there without a second thought.

Something on the wall caught James’ eye, and he paused to investigate. Coming closer, he saw that there was a colourful child’s drawing on the wall, in chalk. It was slightly smudged by Monday night’s drizzle, but there had been no major downpour to wash it away completely. There was a yellow-haired boy holding a bow and arrow, fighting with a huge, dark, red-eyed monster under a big, fiery sun. James looked a few metres up the lane to where it joined Whinney Hill, a clearly lived-in house overlooking them. This was Archie’s drawing. This was Archie’s world.

Making a mental note to compliment Archie on his artwork next time he saw him, James took the few steps further up the hill to arrive at Harmonie, Archie, and Bella’s house. The front door was open a crack. James knocked politely.

There was no answer. He could hear the sound of a little girl talking to herself inside, and the muffled sound of pigs somewhere behind the houses. James stood back and looked up at the house, looking for a sign of where Harmonie might be. The name of the street, Whinney Hill, was displayed on a plate on the front of the house, bolted in above the little portico sheltering the front door.

James knocked again. The only answer was Bella’s little voice, huffing, “Come in, stupid!” He did as he was told.

As James stepped through the door, he realised it was open because it no longer worked. Someone had smashed the catch from its moorings, and the upper corner of the wood was dented and misshapen. He walked a little further inside. He avoided the stairs right in front of him and popped his head through the door to the front room instead. Bella was sat on the floor, completely naked, playing with a mismatched gaggle of dolls and teddies.

“Mammy, castle man came!” she shouted.

James tried his best to be polite, given he’d just been invited into the house by a naked three or four-year-old. “Hi, Bella,” he said. “My name’s James. What are you playing?”

Bella ignored him and whispered to the nearest teddy instead.

There was the sound of someone rushing down the stairs. James turned around just as Harmonie emerged behind him.

“What do you want now?” she sighed.

“Sorry to barge in,” said James. “Your door’s broken and Bella sort of told me to come in.”

Harmonie craned her neck past James to her daughter in the front room. “Bella! Where’s your clothes?” she snapped. Bella ignored her. “There’s no talking to that lass at the minute,” fumed Harmonie. “She’s beside herself without her brother.”

“I know a good carpenter who could fix your door,” suggested James. “And she’d bring along a little playmate for Bella.”

“Who’d want to come up here and help me at the minute?” demanded Harmonie, hands on hips. James noticed how tired and – frankly – ill she looked. Eyes heavily lidded and bloodshot, hair stuck to her head, skin pale and clammy.

“You’re not alone, you know, Harmonie,” said James.

“Am I heck,” scoffed Harmonie. “Y’knaa who did this to me door? That deputy bloke, Rob. No need for it. Just cos nobody told me yous had me bairn. Anyone who wants to walk in and do anything to us – and believe me, there’s quite a few round here who do at the minute – they’ve got a free run of us home.”

“I’ll see if my friend can come down tomorrow,” said James.

“Aye, whatever,” grunted Harmonie. “So, what you come here for?”

“Archie misses you,” said James, matter-of-factly.

Harmonie shuddered from head to toe. “And what do you care about that?” she rasped.

“I think you miss him, too. And Bella obviously does.”

“How d’you expect me to go over there, to the castle, eh? We’d be hounded. We’re not wanted.”

“Archie wants you,” insisted James. “He’s taken to me and Manny, but you can see how frightened he is most of the time, especially around other adults. He’s been having bad dreams… He needs his mom.”

Harmonie staggered in the hallway. She held out a hand to catch herself on the knob of the bannister as she stumbled backwards. She sobbed, her spare hand covering her mouth. She collapsed against the side of the stairs.

“It’s all my fault,” she sobbed. “That’s what they all think. And they’re right. I made me little boy into a killer!”

James rushed to lift Harmonie back to her feet and hold her awkwardly in his arms. “Hey,” he said. “None of this is your fault. You’ve done what was best for your kids, bringing them here.”

“No,” she said. “No. I should never have left it so long. I should never have let Archie spend half his life where we were before.”

“Shh, Harmonie,” said James. “Archie told me about all that. That wasn’t your fault any more than it was his. What those men were doing to the pair of you, and all the other women and children, was abuse. Plain and simple. I think you were so brave to get away when you did. So, so brave.”

“Aye,” she coughed. “Never helped Archie, though, did it? In the end? We come here and nobody wants to give us the time of day, like. They shove us in this little house, and call me a slapper, and a gyppo, and all sorts, and Archie a freak. None of them let their kids play with him.”

“I wish I’d known, Harmonie,” said James. “I really wish I had. Archie’s just a normal little boy, outside of everything that’s happened this week. I would’ve done something.”

“Well it’s too bliddy late now, ain’t it? He’s gone and proved ’em all right, the stupid little sod.”

“Come on, Harmonie,” pleaded James. “We still don’t know exactly what happened on Monday. All we know is that Archie hurt a girl and she got killed. We don’t know how one led to the other.”

“Those fucking Wojnowskis,” spat Harmonie. “We had ’em down here, Sunday night, trying to say it was Archie who was mauling all those sheep.”

“What?”

“Aye, can you believe it? They was saying my lad was some sort of werewolf or something. All of them, they think we’re monsters, just cos of what we’ve come from.”

“You’re not, though. Archie’s not.”

“Seeing men behave that when he was just a tiny bairn, it’s no surprise it got into his head.”

“No, no… Harmonie – he hated the men who acted out. He was telling me how much he liked Tyrone, the man who was nice to him. He thinks that must be his dad.”

“If that boy knew who his dad really was, it’d break his little heart.”

“Will you go and see him?” said James. “Please?”

No answer from Harmonie. She just stood there shaking.

“He needs you,” said James. “And I think you need him.”

“Get out of my house,” hacked Harmonie, shaking her head and flinging tears all around the hallway.

James turned to leave. Harmonie was still shaking, propping herself up with one arm against the doorframe of the front room.

“I’ll ask if my friend can come and fix your door tomorrow,” said James. “Look after yourself, Harmonie. Please.”

“Thanks,” Harmonie managed to cough out, in a strangled, stilted whisper.

“You know where to find me,” added James, making off for the castle and safer ground.

**

James arrived rather early at Manny and Tracey’s place, on the first floor of Staircase A of Hatfield College. Tracey was cooking dinner over the fireplace in the room they used as their living room – the back left as James looked at it from the staircase – overlooking the back corner of the college where he’d met Tracey and Theo a couple of hours earlier. James had brought a bottle from Jake’s old stash, and he set it to one side in the room where Tracey was cooking. Back when Jake had the car, he’d raided distribution centres for what treats remained. They were overloaded for booze and chocolate for years to come. The alcohol, of course, would be fine forever. Whiskey and rum don’t go off. The chocolate would probably be borderline inedible by now, but Theo surely wouldn’t mind. He’d be bouncing off the walls come bedtime.

Theo, of course, held James to his promise to build more of his farm in his playroom, the other of the four rooms on their floor. James was sprawled across the floor with him, building a Lego barn, when Manny arrived back from the castle.

“Daddy, are you gonna play farm with us?”

“I think I should probably help mommy with the cooking. What do you think?”

“Oh no! I was gonna help mammy make all the food for us!”

Everybody ended up back in front of the fireplace, where Tracey insisted she needed no help, and that it was too hot for everyone in there with the fire going anyway. She was right. She was at the stage where she could leave the food alone to cook, and the adults could head downstairs with an aperitif of Jake’s carefully selected dark rum to watch Theo dance around amongst the plants. Eventually, Tracey headed back inside to grate and cook some cauliflower, leaving James and Manny alone while Theo rushed about amongst the greenery.

“Archie wouldn’t give me anything new today,” said Manny.

“I’m not surprised after what it must have taken for him to have opened up to me,” sighed James, taking a sip of rum. Mount Gay. An appropriate inheritance from Jake.

“In the end, he started crying and asking for you and his mom,” said Manny, looking at James pointedly. “You’ve really got him to trust you. You should be proud.”

“Thanks,” blushed James. “I just tried to be myself and treat him like I would any other kid.”

“I reckon that’s exactly what he needed,” said Manny, taking a sip from his glass.

“But he is just an ordinary boy,” said James. “No matter what he’s been through, or whatever he may have done…”

“You don’t think he might not have done it, do you, Jay?”

“Don’t you?” James replied quickly, widening his eyes at Manny. “We know he hurt Angelika; he’s admitted that and it’s obvious. We don’t know exactly how she died.”

“But it’s clear he was involved,” countered Manny. “Either way, it’s just a matter of how much responsibility he had. You can’t give him the benefit of the doubt when we’ve got an eight-year-old girl about to be buried tomorrow and he admits he had a hand in battering her.”

“Maybe not,” sighed James. “But I know there’s more going on here. There must be. Something about it doesn’t add up. I saw Harmonie Stephens this afternoon and she was saying the Wojnowskis were trying to make out that Archie was some sort of sheep-killing animal before any of the rest of it even happened.”

“I wondered why she turned up again this evening,” said Manny.

“Did she go to see him?” squeaked James.

“Yeah,” said Manny. “Her and the little sister. He was over the moon. They’re still with him now. They’re going to have dinner with him, and his mom will put him to bed.”

“Excellent,” said James. “I’m so happy.”

“James, if he’s killed her…”

“What?”

“You can’t undo it, you know. You can’t save him any more than you can save her.”

“No,” said James. “And he will be punished. No matter what. None of us can avoid that.”

“But…?”

“But, if we can show he’s just a mixed-up boy who’s been through hell, who snapped because of the pressure he was put under… Well, we can argue that he can be prepared for a normal, happy life in the future.”

“James, you know I’m with you every step of the way, right?” said Manny, staring at James under a crooked head and raised eyebrows.

“Right,” said James. “But…?”

“But I wonder how realistic you’re being here. Just because you like Archie, doesn’t make him an ordinary kid, and doesn’t mean that he really didn’t mean to kill Angelika. And even if you’re right, what do you think everyone else is going to make of it? Half the town have already made their minds up.”

“So, we just give up on him?” said James. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” replied Manny. “I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt, mate. You’re putting your heart and soul into this, and it probably isn’t going to go the way you want it to. And, ultimately, Archie isn’t our problem. It’s not on us what happens to him.”

James sighed and watched Theo singing to himself and playing amongst the flowers. He nodded at him. “So,” he said bitterly, “you’d be saying the same if it was him sat crying in that little room, the right to even go to the toilet in privacy removed from him, accused of murder?”

“That’s not fair,” Manny shot back. “You know it’s not.”

“What difference does it make?” countered James. “Archie is all of our responsibility, regardless of if he’s our flesh and blood or not.”

Theo trotted over and planted himself in James’ lap. “What are you and daddy talking about?” he asked.

“Just work,” said James, kissing the top of Theo’s head. “Nothing for baby boys to worry about.”

“I’m not a baby,” said Theo, absentmindedly. “I’m five.”

Manny watched James speechlessly. They caught each other’s eyes. The look in Manny’s eyes told James that he had him; that Manny knew he was right. The moment was broken as Tracey emerged from the door.

“Dinner’s ready,” she said. “All boys upstairs, now. Hands washed and ready to go.”

**

Dinner passed without any fuss. Work was off the agenda. The adults joked and reminisced; Theo was his usual funny, entertaining self. Tracey’s lentil dish, prepared with onions and garden peas and the herbs she and Theo could get their hands on, served in tomato-based sauce over grated and sautéed cauliflower, was excellent. James and Manny had almost forgotten how special small-scale cooking could be. Even Tracey seemed to have surprised herself.

“Uncle James, did you guess our secret ingredient?” chirped Theo.

“Oh no!” James dramatically exclaimed. “What did Theo put in here? I feel like I’m gonna throw up already!”

“No, silly!” laughed Theo. “I asked mammy to put a special herb in there.”

“Go on, Theo,” said Manny. “You’ll have to tell us what it was.”

“Remember yesterday you showed me the cat plant, Uncle James? Well, mammy and me crushed up some cat-nit to put in the dinner!”

“Really?” said James. Theo nodded happily. “Oh… I’m starting to feel a bit funny….”

“Uncle James!” squeaked Theo, eyes wide.

“Oh no!” wailed James. “My head’s spinning. I’m going to start acting all crazy!”

“Mammy!” squealed Theo. “You said it was okay to put the cat leaves in there! Uncle James isn’t a cat and Henry ate it too!”

“Ohhhh!” wailed James, leaning as if he was about to fall off his chair.

“Stop it, Uncle James!” bounced Theo, visibly getting worked up. “I didn’t mean to make you poorly! Please, Uncle James!”

James flopped to the floor. Theo whimpered and reached for Tracey’s hand.

With a sudden leap, James was knelt beside Theo, tickling his sides savagely from alongside his chair.

“No! Uncle James! You’re mean!” he shrieked, between belly laughs, hiccups and giggles. “You made me think I’d made you poorly!”

Eventually James relented and retook his seat. Theo huffed in his chair.

“I know what’d cheer you up, silly boy,” said Theo. “Let me bring in what Uncle James has brought over for us.”

“I can’t drink yucky booze,” whined Theo to Tracey, collapsing against her side.

“He’s starting to get tired,” she explained to James, stroking his hair.

“Am not!” he snapped back, as Manny re-entered the room, holding the bottle of Mount Gay and a slab wrapped in purple foil. “Is that chocolate?” gasped Theo, instantly bolting back to an upright position.

“It is,” said Tracey. “But not too much for you, eh?”

“Thank you, mammy! Thank you, daddy! Thank you, Uncle James!” Theo was on his knees, bouncing up and down on his chair as if his life depended on it.

Manny broke up the bar and passed pieces around. Theo covered himself in brown smudges as the adults drank more golden liquid, shared around by James pouring into their empty glasses. Theo soon fell asleep, collapsed into his mother’s lap. Manny took him away to wipe his face and hands, remove his clothes, and pop the groggy, protesting boy into his bed. His teeth would survive one night without attention. James and Tracey were left in an animated conversation about Ian McEwan. Tracey had been reading him lately, on James’ recommendation, from books purloined from the old university library, it’s four floors standing big, blocky and dormant, like a giant, abandoned concrete bookcase.

Manny returned and more drinks were poured. Tracey headed off to the toilet. Manny grabbed James’ thigh under the table, to grab his attention; to look him in the eye with fuzzy-headed sincerity.

“You’re right,” he said. “We don’t know everything. You’ve got to do things your way.”

“What if I’m wrong?” said James. “Everyone will hate me.”

“What if you’re right?” countered Manny. “You have to get him to tell the truth, James. You’re the only one who can.”

Tracey returned. They drained their drinks and said extended goodnights. Repeated hugs. Laughing. Promises of days and nights to come. James realised he’d forgot to ask Tracey about Harmonie’s door. He mentioned it as he left. Tracey said she’d definitely look into it and that Theo needs to meet more children.

It was done. James wandered home, happy at heart and a head full of fizz in the twilight. It was late, but the reluctant sun refused to fully pull below the horizon enough to darken the entire sky, especially as James walked facing west to return to the castle and his waiting bed. He stumbled over himself; his repeated mantras of the day returned to him. Not your fault; abuse plain and simple. If six-year-old Archie had no say in his abuse, and twelve-year-old Aaron had no say in the behaviour of adults – hell, if adult Harmonie had no say in what happened to her, and those three poor boys from the park back in Birmingham no say in what happened to them – did thirteen-year-old James and Manny really have control over what they did or didn’t want, either? Did eleven-year-old Manny ending up naked in bed with another boy and a grown man really have an opt-out? Did he, at nine, really have the freedom to ask Jake to let him rub his naked parts against him again, despite enjoying it once, given Jake – aged forty or god-knows-what – had introduced him to practices and sensations his childish mind would never have dreamed of?

Nothing made sense anymore. Archie had shattered everything. The more James pulled on that thread, the more everything unravelled. He needed to sleep. He just about managed to pull his clothes off and collapse into his bed, thinking of himself and Manny. Thinking of their first time. Thinking of how the triangle became complete.

**

Winter, age 13. Manny’s birthday!

It’s Manny’s thirteenth birthday today… and you know what that means!

Manny says he wants to do it. He’s been acting weird all day though. I think he must be nervous or excited. Or both. I’m going to listen outside the door while they do it. Maybe have a nice tug… Imagine if they catch me! I hope they’d drag me in and punish me. I want to be as close to Manny as I am to Jake. I want us to be three boyfriends, all connected. I want Manny up my bum too, to feel that closeness and connection to him. But I’m too scared to ask him.

**

“It’s time for your present, birthday boy,” said Jake, sat on the winter bed, watching Manny stood before him in the yellowish electric light. “Is it what you want?”

Manny blushed. “Yes,” he said, quietly, looking away from Jake.

“Get undressed for me, then.”

Manny smirked a little to himself and began to pull off his jumper. He could feel the heat in his cheeks, prickly, tingling down the back of his neck. Off came his jeans. Socks. He was stood before Jake in just his boxers. With a deep breath and a single, bowing movement, off they came. A sting of excitement tickled through his balls and his willy, but it stayed mostly soft. Perhaps just sticking up the slightest amount. His heart pounded.

Jake drank in the newly minted teenager. He was starting to develop rapidly; leaving James behind. Dark pubes were beginning to come in around the top of his cock and balls, which had enlarged and descended. He’d been spunking for around a year already. The rest of his body was windscreen smooth, his muscles steadily becoming more defined through his caramel skin, goosed as he stood bare on display in the bedroom.

“You’re such a beautiful boy, Manny.”

He gave a timid smile. His willy swelled just a little more.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

He nodded.

“Don’t be,” said Jake, standing to run a hand gently over Manny’s naked shoulders, sending a shiver down the boy’s spine. “We’re going to have a lot of fun tonight. Here, help undress me.”

Jake sat back down. Manny shuffled in between the man’s legs, his penis now at half-mast and bobbing with the pounding of his heart. He unbuttoned Jake’s shirt and pushed it off his arms, skin-on-skin, fingertips to biceps. Jake’s ferociously hairy barrel chest was revealed. Manny had seen it so many times, but it always impressed him. Imposed upon him. He knelt down to pull Jake’s socks off. It felt very odd, undressing an adult. He realised he’d put himself into a perfect blowjob position, knelt right between Jake’s open legs. Maybe that’s what Jake wanted first. Chest still aflutter, he unbuttoned the man’s fly. Jake lifted up to let Manny slide his jeans down pale, mildly hairy legs. All that was left was the underpants.

“Get on the bed,” said Jake. “I’ll do this bit.”

Manny clambered up. He lay staring at the ceiling, his willy now stiffer than ever before, pointing up at his chest. Jake was naked. He’d come to lie alongside Manny, side-on, crooking a knee onto Manny’s thigh, and stroking down Manny’s chest. Manny swallowed noisily; he was breathing hard.

“You’re getting to be such a big boy,” said Jake, slithering a hand down to massage Manny’s steel-rigid member and tightly drawn balls. At a wild guess, he’d say the boy was getting on for five inches; perhaps not quite. Not fully thick yet, but with a fat head. “When it gets bigger than mine, I’ll let you put it inside me to celebrate.”

Manny choked another heavy breath; felt his cock jerk and dribble a little bit. He blushed, but turned to look Jake in the eye, re-finding his toothy grin.

“How does that sound?” said Jake.

Manny swallowed again. “Yeah,” was the only word he could find, in a parched whisper.

“Someone’s very excited,” Jake said, using the spilt fluid to slide his thumb around under Manny’s foreskin. Manny gasped, whimpered a little, and nodded his head as if it might explode. He felt like his entire body could, at any second.

“Time to get to work,” smiled Jake, leaning over to kiss Manny on the mouth. He wasted no time in probing his tongue beyond the boy’s lips. Manny accepted and responded limply with his own tongue. Jake broke the kiss.

“You don’t much like snogging me, do you mate?”

Manny wasn’t sure what to say. He gulped, feeling Jake’s hand still teasing his dick. Eventually he shook his head.

“That’s okay,” Jake whispered. “How about I kiss you somewhere else instead?”

Jake nuzzled his nose against Manny’s; kissed him on the cheek. He descended a trail of sloppy kisses, feeling Manny’s heart working overtime as he passed over the boy’s chest. It wasn’t long before he was between Manny’s legs, inhaling the scent of overexcited teen boy, all wrinkled skin and salty sweetness. He lapped at the boy’s balls. Took them in his mouth and rolled them around his tongue; still just little enough to get away with having both at once. He pulled Manny’s freshly-teen prong straight, retracted the skin fully, and descended; the length just enough to tickle his throat. He sucked and lapped at Manny’s fat knob, tasting the honey the boy was dropping occasional pearls of, on top of the smorgasbord of subtle flavours of a wet bell end, trapped beneath its protective sheath all the day long and released only sparingly to share its aromas with a lucky tongue.

Sensing Manny was close, Jake pulled off and began leaving wet, precum-stringy kisses over Manny’s pubis and belly. Manny panted hard. As Jake’s tongue flicked just beneath his belly button, Manny’s entire body clenched. He grunted and moaned aloud. His fingers dug at the bedsheets; knuckles yellow. Volleys of hot teen semen splattered Manny’s triangle and Jake’s chin.

“I’m sorry,” whimpered Manny, slick with sweat from his temples to the soles of his feet; a little river running between his bum cheeks.

“Delicious!” smiled Jake, scooping dollops of Manny’s cum from his chin to his mouth. “Try some.”

Manny opened his mouth and allowed Jake to feed him his own semen from his splattered nether regions. It wasn’t quite pearlescent yet, but nor was it clear. Cloudy.

“Not to worry,” said Jake, gently patting and stroking Manny’s balls. “Plenty more where that came from. Let’s get you ready for the main event.”

Manny remembered his nerves, but nodded and lifted and spread his legs, like a baby awaiting a nappy change.

“All the way back,” said Jake, taking Manny’s hand and placing it on the pit of his knee in encouragement. Many acquiesced, spreading himself for Jake. Jake dove straight in.

Manny relaxed into the deep rimjob, everything above his arsehole a confused jumble of excitement, nerves, fear, and euphoria. After a couple of minutes, his hole had relaxed enough to admit much of Jake’s tongue. The man kept going. Manny felt his willy begin to chub again, tingles running through his balls whenever Jake’s tongue danced up his perineum.

It didn’t come as a surprise when a gloopy digit replaced Jake’s tongue in his hole, but it did make Manny tense and gasp as nerves got the better of him again.

“Relax,” said Jake. “You’re okay. You’ll get hurt if you keep tensing.”

Manny gulped and gave a little, mmm-hmm. Once again, it was all he could manage.

Jake worked over the boy’s hole with his index finger. He gently eased Manny onto his side, facing him in a 69 position. His free hand directed his penis to Manny’s lips. “Get it nice and wet, there’s a good lad.”

Manny got to work sucking. He tried to focus on doing a good job and block out everything else. That became more difficult as he felt Jake’s middle finger join his pointer as it wiggled around inside him.

“Keep going, Manny,” said Jake. “You’ve got this.”

Manny did as he was told, feeling Jake’s fingers scissoring away inside his bottom. A fingernail flicked over his gland, and he gasped and nearly came on himself again.

“Touched a special place,” said Jake. “Imagine how good something bigger will feel against that.”

Manny gulped on Jake’s cock, earning a twitch of the head against the back of his throat in return.

Jake kept going until he had three fingers working away in Manny’s rear, consistently causing the boy to twitch and gasp. He’d taken Manny off blowjob duty and set him to work greasing up the appendage that was about to take his anal virginity. It made sense to ensure he got to know it properly first.

“I think we’re ready to roll, okay Manny?” said Jake. Manny nodded seriously.

“What should I do?” he asked in a small voice.

“Roll onto your other side and pull one knee up to your chest. I’ll spoon you from behind. I find that’s probably the best way for a first time.”

Manny did as he was told. He was sweating profusely again, his sloppy hole already throbbing from the probing Jake’s fingers had given him. He took a deep breath as he felt Jake move into place behind him; felt his right bum cheek get pushed upwards and spread, and the blunt end of a slicked adult dick touch his most private spot. His heart skipped a beat. He shivered from head to toe. The goosebumps had returned.

“Time to put it in the Manny hole,” said Jake. “Ready, lover boy?”

“Ready,” gulped Manny.

“Alright,” breathed Jake, pushing hard against Manny’s entrance. The Manny hole.

A burning pain rippled through Manny’s rear end as Jake forced him open.

“Owww!” he whined. “Owowow!”

“Okay, Manny,” Jake said gently, easing more of his penis into the panting boy. “You’re doing fine. This is always the hard bit. Just breathe and push, remember.”

“Go slow, Jake!” whimpered Manny.

“That won’t help,” said Jake. “It’s best just to slot it in and let you adjust.”

“Okay…” whined Manny, panting. “Is it all in yet?”

“There we are,” said Jake, bottoming his pubes out against Manny’s still-spread cheek. “You’ve taken it all. Big, brave lad.”

“When does it start feeling good?” Manny panted. A shiver ran through his body again as he felt Jake begin to coax life back into his limp willy. It caused him to clench his ring around the invading cock, sending another flicker of burning all through his anal passage.

“Just hold it. Breathe. Let yourself get used to it. Keep your leg up; I’ll look after things down here.”

Manny blinked and hugged his knee to his chest. He could feel how sweaty he was, his back frog-slimy against Jake’s hairy chest. His hole didn’t feel like it was throbbing so much. A dull fullness spread through his nerve endings. Jake had his willy back to semi, a goopy hand touching all his favourite places. Trying to keep his bum still as best he could, he relaxed his back into Jake’s chest more, feeling the man’s breath against the back of his head.

“Wank me harder, please?”

“Of course, brave boy. Let’s see how big you are again.”

Jake began to fondle Manny with more urgency. The teen was back up to his current maximum. Jake wondered how big it would end up. Six-and-a-half? Did Manny have a seven hidden inside him, waiting to grow out? Either way, he was enjoying himself. The attention to his boxer meat had his breathing rattling again. Jake subtly began to move his hips around.

“Oh, fuck…” whispered Manny.

“Yes, mate. That’s what we’re doing.”

Manny chuckled and felt shivers dance across his body again. His cock twitched and dribbled a little on Jake’s hand.

“I love you, Jake,” he sighed.

“I love you too, Manny,” said Jake. “How’s your Manny hole?”

“Good,” said Manny. “You can start thrusting if you want.”

“Good lad,” said Jake. Another flick of his hips. Slowly building up motion, cranking up the momentum. Manny lay still. “Ready to go hard?”

“Think so,” said Manny, his anus twittering. “Oof!”

Jake began to thrust properly, his hard cock motoring in Manny’s stretched-out boy-hole. Manny saw stars. There was more going on within the confines of his backside than he ever thought could be possible. Stretching. Tingles. Pain. Fullness. His prostate being hammered, squeezed and squashed in all directions. He’d given up holding his knee; Jake had it pinned to him, forcing the breath out of him with every stroke. Instead, he reached for his windmilling willy, wanking himself off with all the urgency his delirious body could muster.

“Ah!” he grunted. “Oh, oh, oh!”

“Ngh! Manny!” Jake cried as his balls began to slap against the boy’s.

Manny was a wreck. His hole was full of Jake, making squishy, sloppy sounds sometimes, and other times slurpy fart noises. He realised he could smell his own inner scents, deep and peaty. He could smell his armpits, too. He was sweating like he was wearing furs in the desert at the height of summer. He made noises and fondled himself. It was all he could manage.

Jake roared. Hot stickiness seared through Manny’s overworked hole. He felt an overwhelming desperation to shit and was worried that he was indeed pooing himself when he felt warm slop dribbling over Jake’s dick all around his hole. When he realised it was Jake’s spunk being forced out of him, Manny blew his second fuse of the evening, covering his front in goo to match his back, as Jake lay panting and cradling him. They were panting together. Manny nuzzled his head back against Jake’s hairy face. Ran a hand over his own awestruck face, then let it flop to the bed. Laughed to himself.

“How was that?” said Jake.

“Can I kiss you again after all?” Manny replied.

**

Winter, age 13. Secret listeners.

I was right outside the door when Manny did it up the bum for the first time!

It sounded like it went well. There was some hurting at first, but there always is. It makes what comes after even better! After Manny was over that, it sounded like they had a really good time! I wanked myself off the whole time, and came when I heard Jake spunking, of course!

They think I’m tucked up in bed in the front room. But I’m not. Ha ha! After I’m done writing this, I’ll go back and listen some more. I bet there’ll be more. There always is. Isn’t that what birthday fucks are for?

I’m looking forward to round two. Can’t wait to hear Manny moaning and get myself off again. I’m so hard right now. I wish I was in there with them. I’d give myself to both of them at once just to be part of it together.

**

Manny let Jake cuddle him for a long time. He was content to stay still and try to process what he’d just experienced, while his bum tried to find the appropriate reaction to what had been inflicted upon it. For the moment, it seemed to have decided this was to twitch repeatedly and leak semen down his legs.

“Here,” said Jake, holding a flask full of water out to Manny. “Have plenty to drink. Then we can go again if you like.”

“Okay,” said Manny, gulping down water and realising how thirsty he had been. “Will it be the same again?”

“We like to mix things up, don’t we,” Jake winked.

“Yeah,” giggled Manny. “It won’t hurt, though?”

“No different from before.”

“Oh. Okay. Let me rest a bit longer then we can do it again.”

“Good birthday present?”

Manny choked on his swig of water and began coughing. Jake slapped his back.

“Good present!” he said, between gulping coughs.

“You know, being thirteen means you can do that with James now, too.”

“Do you think he’d let me?” Manny grinned.

“Let you?” laughed Jake. “You’ll be fighting that boy off!”

Manny smirked and rolled onto his front. “Give me a massage and tickle my feet?” he wheedled. “Birthday present.”

“Oh, go on,” said Jake. “Get you limber ready for the second round.”

**

Manny was a little confused by the position Jake got into once they’d decided to go again. He had him kneel up on the bed with his legs apart, then slotted in behind the boy’s smaller frame.

“Sit back a little,” said Jake.

“Oh,” said Manny, catching on. Jake moved his hips up to meet Manny’s descent. He was holding his dick out ready to spear Manny’s hole on contact. “Oof! Argh – that’s sore!”

“Always hurts going in, remember,” said Jake. “Just sit back on it. You’ll be fine.”

“Ow! Jake, this feels worse!”

“It’s a bit more of an advanced position,” said Jake. “Just be brave. You’ll manage.”

“Nmph!” grunted Manny. Jake had beaten the resistance of Manny’s sphincters and been sucked fully back into the boy’s slick arse chute.

“Better?”

“Hmm,” nodded Manny weakly.

“No holding back this time, okay?” Jake grabbed Manny firmly by his thighs, and without further ceremony began to piston the boy roughly from beneath and behind.

“Oh, Jesus!” moaned Manny. Jake’s cock was aimed squarely at his sex gland, smashing the buzzer with every macho thrust.

“James!” shouted Jake. “James, come and join us, mate. I know you’re out there.”

Nothing happened for a few beats. Manny was unconcerned. He felt himself begin to ride Jake’s cock as it thrust into him, desperate for the hammering on his prostate to continue. He was somewhere between feeling as if he was going to pee himself and feeling as if he was going to ejaculate his balls out of the end of his dick. He was drooling clear liquid from the parted end of his foreskin.

The bedroom door opened. James crept in sheepishly, naked, stiff willy in hand.

“How did you know I was out there?” he began to pout, before raising his head to the action on the bed and letting his mouth drop open in wonder. Manny was getting a real pounding in only his second-ever fuck.

“Because I know you!” said Jake, voice vibrating between thrusts. The sound of slapping flesh filled the room, occasionally broken by a grunt or moan from Manny, or the farty sounds of his well-lubricated bottom. “Get involved!”

James looked at Jake wide-eyed, before a wicked grin spread across his face, deforming into a full-blown evil laugh. He grabbed the jar of Vaseline from the bed, collected a big dollop on the end of his index finger, and rammed it straight into his bum, down to the final knuckle.

Manny was barely aware of what was happening when James grabbed his leaking dick in a fist and gave it a couple of test pumps. A nervous look played across James’ face, but when Jake nodded at him, he smiled again and turned to face away from Manny. The next thing Manny knew, he had the most incredible soft, tight, warm feeling around his willy, like a hundred blowjobs at once. He whimper-moaned and let his head flop forwards, inhaling the scent of James’ hair. He wrapped his arms around James in brotherly love, squeezing him about his chest. Instinct took over and he was thrusting his hips at James now, rather than in response to Jake’s relentless assault.

Jake surprised the boys again by switching his tight grip to James’ thighs, mashing the three of them together, forcing Manny balls-deep into James with every slam against the younger boy’s prostate. Manny lost the ability to sense anything other than his anal cavity, his throbbing penis, and the scent of James’ body, Vaseline and boy bum. He could hear himself crying out but wasn’t aware his mouth was moving. He released into James his third cum of the evening, increasingly transparent boy juice. He was opened his eyes to realise he was looking over James’ shoulder and could see the elder boy shuddering with pleasure, eyes closed, chest flushed, as a little droplet of clear fluid dribbled from his fully-skinned willy onto Jake’s hand, three-and-a-half inches, balls descended and beginning to grow. Then Manny felt another eruption in his own backside. He caught himself wondering if the squelchiness would ever start to feel familiar.

James, panting, made the first move to gently slide himself free of Manny’s now shrunken willy. “Thanks!” he chirped, smiling broadly. “Happy Birthday, Manny.”

“Sit still, Manny, there’s a good lad,” said Jake, holding the swooning Manny firm, cock still up his rear end. “Clean your brother up.”

“What?” said Manny, still barely comprehending what was going on. James had stood on the bed and bent double, spreading his sticky, violated anus in Manny’s face.

“Lick it, Manny,” said James. “You have to clean up after yourself.”

Manny, confused and slick with sweat, Jake’s semi ensconced in his bowels, blinked and complied. He tasted the watery remnants of his spunk, and the weird, brackish taste of Vaseline. He felt his cheeks getting sticky, too. James’ musk was coating his nose. Manny’s bum ached and throbbed. Then he felt another wave of stabbing that made him fall forward, headfirst into James’ taint and testes. Jake was hard again. And the fucking had restarted.

“Come on, birthday boy,” said Jake. “You don’t get off that easy.”

“Ugh,” Manny grunted. His dick felt like it had been inside a cheese grater, but somehow was horrendously hard again. His head lolled and bobbed from Jake’s fucking. He looked down and saw his willy, red and sore, slick and shiny, sporting a brown stain up near the rim. It was a teenager’s willy. And it wasn’t the willy of a virgin. Amongst all the other confused and mixed-up feelings and sensations sloshing around inside him, radiating from his pounded rear iris to the top of his brain, he felt a rush of pride. Manny was a man. He wasn’t some silly little boy anymore.

“James, get back on my dick, man!” he croaked. “I need you.”

James happily complied, almost throwing himself down bottom-first onto Manny.

“Steady, James,” panted Jake, drilling Manny’s rear with the same gusto as before. “Facing us this time.”

“Kay, Jake,” replied James, twisting to squat in front of Manny and lower himself onto his brother’s worn-out, but very stiff willy. He wrapped his arms and knees around Manny, trying to keep his balance and control the penetration. Jake halted momentarily, reaching around to support James by holding him under his buttocks, spreading him wide for Manny and lifting the boy up and down to action the fuck. Exactly in time with his strokes.

“I love you guys,” gurgled Manny, semi-incoherent.

“Love – ngh! Oh! – you too, M-Manny,” panted James. “Mmph. Harder!”

Jake increased the thrust and speed of his strokes, keeping his lift and drop of James in tempo. He glanced at the ceiling, registering his childhood bedroom; the crucible of so many adolescent sexual adventures. James had ejaculated again, a clear drop wending its way down his shaft and onto his plump little balls, like a single raindrop on a windowpane. He was unfazed, rigor mortis stiff, at the age and stage where one can have an orgasm and carry on just as hard as if nothing has happened. Manny was incoherent with delight. Jake leaned in and licked Manny’s cheek. Licked James’ lips. Soon, they were locked in a sloppy, three-way kiss; connected front and back.