So here is chapter 3, wow, two updates in a row!  New characters are introduced as well. On the right a picture of Shane --> Hayden Christensen

I hope you'll like it, let me know!

Is dedicated to ShintoMoon: thanx for fanning and reading the story. Also thanx to everyone else :-))

How do you like Dublin in Ireland?

Cheers xox

SHANE POV

I dragged my feet home, not caring if the rain was getting me completely socked, I couldn’t care less. The closer I got home, the slower I walked, not looking forward to step the doorway of the hell, my living bloody hell. How would that folks be tonight? Merciful or bloody cranky? Maybe I should turn back and go to Enna, but amn’t run away the entire life and have to stand those people until school was over. That was the story.

I opened the door and it was silent, so I dared to hope for a moment of quiet. What a bloody tool I am sometimes.

“Any craic, fag?” My uncle came from the kitchen, not looking well. Also my cousin, a moronic idiot with freckles and horrible garlic breath came from there, holding a can of beer.

Here we go, I told myself.

I bet my darling auntie just left those two knackers and parked her fat ass at some lad’s place. I cursed in my mind, without my aunt there was no bloody supper and I was hungry.

“Uncle Barry.” I nodded to him, hoping he would live me alone.

“Ain’t ya greeting me, too? Ah, bloody faggot?” That was my cousin Gary, his stinky breath was his business card. Now it was even more stinky, mixed to cheap beer and cheap cigarettes.

I told my parents years ago, probably 5 years, that I was gay, hoping they would love me and accept me and protect me. That didn’t happen at all, you know what I mean?  I should have let my sorry mouth shut, but what’s done is done and there is no turning back.

I got into bloody shit, because I didn’t know any better than whine and pity myself and got paid back with more shit. Enna found me and kicked some sense in me. I kicked some sense in myself when I realized what I was become.

Now, what’s the story? No story, gotta stand this hell hole until I graduate and then can leave for good. So I swallowed it day after day, not daring even once to feel sorry for myself. I let the anger, the resentment, the sweet taste of near freedom and the sarcasm lead my days.

The anger and resentment give much power and resistance, you don’t need to be a violent punk because of them. You can simply be an arrogant and do-not-mess-with-me lad and vent it out in some other ways. I used sex and soccer. So far they worked perfectly for me. You would be amazed to know how many guys are willing to have me, if you keep your mouth shut. Fucking hell, as if they could even threaten me or blackmail me. Too scared to do that, so they shut up, pretend to be homophobes and get fucked. Yeah, that was the story: I fucked them. I would let only older and more experienced guys have their way with me and it wasn’t anyway their way, but mine in any case.

“Gary.” I just said, trying to walk past them, to grab something to eat and then locked myself in my bedroom. See, that was the story. I was gay and I was disgusting, a living sin, so what? I got my own fucking bedroom. Classy.

My cousin grabbed my collar and wanted to shove me in the wall, but he was such a loser that couldn’t do even that. I pitied him. But my uncle wasn’t that lame, physically. If you know what I mean. He slammed me into the wall and I was afraid it wouldn’t stand the impact. I swallowed and clenched my jaw and abdomen preparing for what was coming. He smacked me under my jaw and then punched in the guts. I stood there, waiting for them to finish their fun.

Why I didn’t react? Because I couldn’t, that’s why. I had my hands tied, not literally, but I was sort in observation and if the authorities heard anything about me fucking around or getting in the least of a mess, well, then I’d fucked indeed. Very much indeed.

With the first blow I felt pain exploding in me like a cracker and then travelled in my jaws, chin and neck. The second was worse, it sucked me out the air knowing the pain would come later, with a lovely purplish bruise. My cousin completed the masterpiece with another low blow, that made me gasp painfully. How much I hated this bloody routine. How much I hated these tools that were supposed to share my blood.

I was left there panting and cursing myself for feeling pain and frustration. I didn’t dare to move, afraid to react or say something stupid. They moved in the living room, ready to drink and watch some rugby match. I wrapped my stomach and sat down for a minute. Anger was washing away the pain. Resentment was making me feel better and stronger. I got up, walked in the kitchen, fetched something edible and then moved into my bedroom, locking the door.

I called Enna, needing to hear his voice.

“Shane, how are you?” I liked his slightly feminine and harmonious voice. I heard someone behind, bet was Roman.

“Nothing much, just wanted to talk to ya a moment.”

He paused. He knew.

“What happened, Shane? Tell me.” He rarely used any slang or bad language, he didn’t have a strong Dubliner accent, his English was clearer than mine.

“Nothing, really. What are you up to?”

“Making dinner for me and Roman, oh, he says hi.” I heard him from somewhere near the phone .

“I see, I’ll let ya cook.”

“Shane.” Now the voice was stronger and deeper, almost intimidating, with a Eastern European accent. It was Roman at the phone.

“Roman, heya.”

“Come over here, Enna is making sea food chowder for the entire Irish Army.” I heard Enna laughing and I pictured him sticking out his tongue, Roman chuckled. Gee, those two were so much in love, I always wondered if I’ll ever find someone that would complete me, just like Roman and Enna completed each other. “You love it don’t you?” Hearing that my stomach grumbled. I contemplated my bowl of cereal, the only thing decent I fished in there.

“Won’t I disturb you guys?”

“Don’t be a tool, Shane. Get your ass in a bus and come over.”

“I might be there in thirty of forty minutes...” That if the traffic wasn’t a bloody mess.

“Get your ass here, Enna just began to cook. Buy some ice cream.”

“Thanks, Roman.”

I took a change of clothes, knowing if I were to spend the evening, I better spend the night out and Roman and Enna already knew it. It was the habit. I thought about showering, I only changed into dry clothes, but didn’t get one yet. Maybe I could take one there, the bathroom here was always a pigsty. My auntie wasn’t the queen of water and soap. She was the queen of fish fingers and smashed potatoes. The only thing she could barely manage to make. I stuffed the clothes and my school uniform in a bag, grabbed my wallet and phone and walked downstairs, praying for a easy escape.

My uncle was right there, with other new cans of beer.

“Where are you going, bastard?” He was always so classy.

“To friends.”

He snorted and burped, what a swine, and looked me with a disgusted expression. Oh, I was far more disgusted to face him, if you know what I mean.

“Then get lost and have fun with your queer friends.” I had to collect all of my self control to not blow out and smash my uncle’s face. I couldn’t care less what he said about me, who gives a damn, but not about my friends. I froze my face and simply nodded.

I walked out, the rain had stopped, checked the timetable and lucky enough I saw the right bus driving over.

Roman opened the door and hugged me, then immediately checked me out. From his face I could tell a bruise was around somewhere. Right, below the jaw. He tensed a moment and his beautiful emerald grey eyes darkened with anger. He was one of the most gorgeous and sexy man I have ever seen, tall with defined muscles, dark longish hair perfectly styled and flipped in the back, given his boyfriend was one of the best hairdresser you’ll ever find in Dublin, a serious and piercing look, strong features. He had a fully tattooed arm and that gave him that bad boy allure. Yeah, one of the sexiest and most handsome. Well, apart the guy today at the park, I couldn’t get out of my mind his face and his eyes. He was American, wasn’t he?

Enna called from somewhere inside their house.

“Hey baby, is Shane here?”

“Yeah, he’s here.” His voice was husky, but softened immediately.

“I got ice-cream: chocolate chips and strawberry cheesecake!” I cheered. He smiled at me and let me in, taking my bag.

“Wanna take a shower, first?” How did he always knew everything?

“Thanks.”

Their bathroom was amazing, they renovated it a couple of years ago. They had bath tub and shower, a large bath tub that could fit comfy two persons, if you know what I mean. I simply took a shower, the hot water soothed me immediately and made me feel in heaven. Someone knocked at the door.

“Shane, is almost ready.” It was Enna.

“Coming.” I shouted back, drying my hair with a towel.

I jumped back in my jeans and t-shirt and walked to the kitchen. A wonderful whiff of seafood chowder hit my nose and my mouth watered at the idea of the yummy dinner waiting for us. Enna was standing in front of the stove, stirring something in a pot, his long white blonde hair, which were natural, fixed in a pony tail. I crept behind him and hugged him at the waist. He jumped for the surprise and then giggled. Yeah, Enna giggled all the time. He had such feminine elegance and charm, that he was far more beautiful and graceful than most of the women and girls out there.

“It smells very good.” I told him, still hugging his slender and thin waist.

“Thank you, Shane.” He turned his head and gave me a kiss on the lips, it was our usual way of greeting and Roman didn’t mind it. Well, I was the only exception, anyone else trying something like that would have to face his dangerous fists. He was very protective of Enna.

“Did you put the ice-cream in the fridge?” I asked him.

“Yeah, I did.” Answered Roman that walked in the kitchen and motioned me to help with the table.

When dinner was and the chowder in our plates, we dug in and I almost died of yummy-ness. I just made up a new world. The soup was amazing, I almost moan for how much it tasted good; Enna was a wonderful cook.

“Enna babe, it’s great.” Roman looked at him with loving eyes and a tender smile. His boyfriend purred at him and he brushed his cheek with one long and skinny finger.

“Thank you, love.”

Together they were perfect.

When later I laid down, I thought about the guy I met today in the park. He said he wasn’t a tourist and had a gym bag. What was the name? Oh yeah, got it. So he went to some gym around that area, good to know. He had something that struck me at first, that’s why I tried to talk to him, but didn’t work much, he gave the idea of someone wanting to stay alone.

Well, not sure I could do that, because he was really handsome and hot. He was even taller than Roman and broader. His eyes were a bit dull, not because they didn’t look good, but because they had a lifeless expression. But, but deep they had a light, that when he stood up flashed fierce and challenging, making his eyes shine like storming flames.

Hmm, I will have to go and check again St. Stephen Green park.

I wanted to see him again.