︵‿୨ - March 6 1951 - ୧‿︵
It hurt, the ache in his groin. It was late at night but people were still partying downstairs. It would be a while before anyone went to bed, let alone Dolores. He couldn't go back downstairs like this. He could hide under his ruana. He couldn't think of any more shameful struggle than mingling with his family while pretending not to be a pervert.
Why did she have to do that to him? He couldn't figure out if Jacqueline was a blessing or a curse in his life. Tonight she felt like a curse.
That was what he was, wasn't it? He'd never said it out loud before. Never put these feelings into words. He wished he knew a word for what he was that didn't feel so degrading, so wretched. That was what he was, wasn't it? Not even the worst thing she could have called him out of all their options. That wasn't what had gotten him so excited though. No, being humiliated by the town harlot was in fact not a fetish of his. He very much did not enjoy that part. It was what she told him after she ripped out the ugliest part of him and put it on display. It was about Wil.
Wilfredo Fontana. The man who'd lit some old furnace in his chest he thought had broken down years ago. Sex drive was one thing. As he'd gotten older, gotten sadder, it had dwindled more and more. Nevertheless, his body did still demand attention on occasion. Perhaps the arousal wouldn't be so hard to explain. At this point, he knew it was more than that. He loved everything about Wil. He loved his brilliant mind and wonderful curiosity. Loved his wit. The way he loved to tease. His beautiful face when he slept. He wanted to wake up to that face every day. He wanted to take the feeling of being with him and lock it up and keep it all to himself. To hoard it away.
And Wil… Wil liked him back. That wasn't something he thought he would ever hear. That another man felt the same way that he did. About Bruno of all people. Wil was charming and beautiful and educated. He could have anyone surely. No. He wanted Bruno. That thought was electric.
Laying in bed he was trying and failing to think of anything else. Only two thoughts came to his mind. Gnawing demons waiting to torment him for his sins. Spiraling fears of hell and all the awful things he'd ever heard said about men like them. Thoughts he knew would consume him the moment he let his guard down. Demons hiding under his bed. Claws gripping at the sheets. On the other hand…
ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
He stifled a moan as he ran a hand along his length. Even separated by two layers of fabric he was still so sensitive.
He could let the demons wait. They would swallow him up tonight either way. What difference would it make if he let himself enjoy some pleasure tonight? He could entertain that fantasy, just for a bit. Before he let them drag him to hell. A bitter protest. Anything to buy him time before the suffering he knew was coming.
Bruno was quick to remove his cross as he unbuttoned his slacks. It felt so relieving to be free of the constraints of his clothes. He let out a deep sigh as he tossed his pants and boxers to the floor. Collapsing back on the bed. Dolores was still awake. Some drunken belligerence stopped Bruno from caring. Dolores would tune him out. The same way he knew she tuned out her parents from time to time. Besides, she'd probably already heard his conversation with Jacqueline.
She knew now.
Dear god she knew.
No, no. He could panic later. Not now. Not now.
Bruno reached a hand up instinctively to stifle himself. Only briefly. He let it fall limp on his chest while he stroked himself. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
He let a deep throaty purr escape him. His head craned back into the pillows. He didn't care anymore. He was done caring. He let himself melt as he thought of Wil's hands. He'd grown accustomed to their touch by now. The gentle sensation of a hand on his shoulder, his waist. The feeling of Bruno's hand in Wil's as they walked through the city streets. Wil's hands were strong, warm, and heavy. Bruno's hands could barely compare but in his inebriated state, he could almost imagine how they would feel wrapped around his throbbing member.
So warm and soft. The slight callous on his right hand. Bruno's hands could disappear in his grip. The man dwarfed him in so many ways. Would he want to touch him? To take Bruno in his hands and send shivers of pleasure through him. To hold Bruno and watch him melt in under his touch.
A dull ache pulled at the back of his skull. Too distracted by his fantasies to stop it, the darkness behind his eyelids was suddenly overwhelmed with emerald light. On impulse, his eyes shot open to focus on whatever what in front of him. The sudden vision frightened him. It made his whole body lock up before he was able to process what he was seeing.
Gasping panicked breathes. Heart racing.
It was Wilfredo. Even in such foggy resolution, he could make out the man's face. It was almost pathetic how quickly Bruno had memorized every detail. The way his parted bangs brushed his brow. The slight crow's feet that added humor to his eyes. A round flat nose that crinkled when he laughed. Plump lips that begged to be kissed.
He looked so relaxed. So beautiful. His head resting back against the chair he was seated. Nibbling gently on his lower lip.
He was pleasuring himself.
Bruno should have stopped. He should have forced the vision back. This was a private moment. Something Bruno should not have been privy to, and yet… He could recognize the front desk of the library. Whatever he was seeing was from the near future.
Bruno suckled his fingers. His mouth began to water. He shamelessly returned to stroking his throbbing cock. He barely noticed the drool that escaped him. Too distracted by the man's aroused body. He'd never seen another man like this before. Wil's was a bit shorter than Bruno's own cock. From what he could tell, a fair bit thicker. Bruno wasn't sure how he compared to other men. He didn't really care. He wasn't confident he had any sort of preference. It was Wil and that alone made it spectacular.
"Amor, piensas en mí también?" he breathed as he brought slick fingers down to prepare his entrance.
If only. If only Wil was as enamored by the thought of Bruno as Bruno was of him. What did Wil imagine? What might he want to do? Would he be upset to know Bruno has intruded on him like this? Would Wil be as elated as Bruno was to feel some kind of perverse connection?
Bruno groaned desperately as he stroked himself inside and out. Back arching against the mattress. His toes gripping at the sheets. His eyes wanted to close instinctively. He forced them open. He wanted to enjoy this beautiful apparition as long as he could. He wished so badly he could touch this man. He wished he could make him look like that. He'd straddle Wilfredo's lap and pepper kiss along his cheeks. Run his fingers through Wil's hair. He wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked. He'd taste his lips. Explore every inch of his mouth. He could slip his hands under his collar and feel his skin. Leave tracks with his fingernails to mark him as his own.
Bruno wanted to utterly consume him.
Wil was bigger than any makeshift substitute he'd used over the years. The thought of feeling Wil inside him made Bruno drool. An insatiable hunger he couldn't possibly describe. His legs began to tremble as he massaged his insides with his fingers. That favorite spot that sent little rippling waves of pleasure through him. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open but closing them would obscure his vision. He didn't want to look away.
"Más, quiero sentirte." Bruno began to whine desperately at the inadequacy of his spindly fingers. Frustrated tears threatened to spill over. His soul bitterly cursing the distance between them.
Desperate for something more. To capitalize on this moment. He reached blindly for his dresser. He couldn't see much beyond the emerald silhouette of painful longing, but feeling around it wasn't hard to find his hairbrush. The brush was an old antique with a silver handle. One that had its engravings worn down many years ago and was now just smooth silver. It was in fact an old gift from a former fiancé. They'd parted on good terms, the two of them. They were still friends, at least before the wall. He wasn't certain about now. He'd run into her briefly repairing Castia. At the time he lacked the confidence to talk much to anyone. Either way, he doubted she would be happy if she ever found out the secondary function he'd found for her old hairbrush. Not that anyone ever would. This brush never left his room and the rest of his family knew better than to go rooting through his things.
Bruno licked his palm and wrung the handle of the brush blindly. He didn't want to think too much about where he was or what he was doing. Just focus on this beautiful vision. To live in that moment while he still could. The silver handle was startlingly cold at first. He was quick to focus on Wil's face. To insert himself into the vision. To feel this man inside him. Rut up against his flesh while he rode him. He wanted to strip off all the layers and run his hands over every inch of his body. The brush was a poor substitute for the real thing. At least he'd gotten somewhat skilled at using it. He could pump a slow steady rhythm with relative ease. He tried to match Wil's pace.
Frustratingly casual. It made him whine as the pressure gradually increased. He knew he couldn't come like this. If only the vision were real. If only Bruno could touch him. He'd fuck him like a starved animal. He didn't care about tenderness. The fog was slowly overwhelming his brain and all he wanted to was to be fucked raw.
He just wanted some release.
Those bitter tears spilled over as the vision fizzled out of sight.
"No me dejes." He whimpered bitterly.
He shut his eyes tight to block out his room. Block out any other thoughts. Just inky blackness and whatever cold pleasure he could provide himself. There was no steady calm rhythm now. Only frantic abusive thrusts. Hard jabs of pleasure and pain. His strangled cock aching for release. His mind glazing over. Lightheaded and gasping for air as he teetered so close but couldn't quite… just a little closer… harder, faster, whatever it took…
ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
"Bruno! Are you-"
"Get out of my room!" Bruno shrieked violently. His voice echoed off the walls of the tower. Amplified by the space. Shrill and full of rage.
The intrusion of his sister's voice nearly destroyed him.
"Por Dios! I was just going to ask if you were going to bed!"
Pepa. It was Pepa. Of course.
Bruno had bolted upright as soon as he heard her. The brush now discarded, he sat in bed muffling screaming sobs with his hands. He couldn't let her hear him. Let her hear his strangled, shameful, perverse, pain.
Bruno didn't try to reply to her. He couldn't speak. Only wait several agonizing seconds for her to close his door. She didn't see him. Couldn't see him. He was extremely grateful that his bed was so far away from the door. Even with his family's intrusive habits he still had some shelter from their attention. It was for the better. He was an ugly wretched thing that would wither under too much scrutiny.
Bruno finally let his hands drop to the bed. Tears burned his face though his sobs were reduced to soft, pitiful, choking sounds. His body trembled. He felt the icy claws of heartless things creep up his flesh.
He was going to hell tonight. He was a wretched thing. He was certainly going to hell.
︵‿୨ - March 8 1951 - ୧‿︵
Mariposo, that's what she called him.
She wasn't wrong. He'd never acknowledged it out loud before. He'd certainly never told a soul. He'd indulged those impulses before. Late at night when everyone was sleeping. He knew it was wrong but those fantasies were so tempting. So addicting. He thought as long as they remained only fantasies it would be ok. He wasn't sinning. Only thinking about it… He thought about a lot of things that were wrong. These thoughts didn't hurt like thoughts of death or violence. He felt guilty certainly, but they didn't carve gashes in his soul the way the fears did. Until now that is.
He lay in bed. In a cocoon of blankets. He'd locked his bedroom door. He didn't want to talk to anyone today. Once or twice someone had come by to knock. Probably for meals. This wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. The adults knew well enough to leave him alone. His rats kept him company. Carlos had snuggled up under his cheek. Beatrice was napping in the crook of his neck while Juanita tried to untangle his hair with her teeth. He hadn't brushed it today, or yesterday… He skipped story hour at the library yesterday. That seemed to be when the family started to worry.
Even Sergio, who was normally of a rather abrasive disposition, had come to rest in front of his face. The rude buck had tried grooming his beard. Bruno pulled a hand loose from his bindings to stroke the top of the young rat's head with his finger. Other furry children were scattered about his bed. Snuggled up inside and outside the covers. He was tempted to say something to comfort Sergio but he didn't want to talk right now. He didn't want to be heard right now. So he just laid there and thought. He felt so empty. Like a piece of him had been carved out of his chest. These feelings were wrong. They felt good. He thought as long as he kept these thoughts to himself. Guarded this piece of him closely, carefully, he could keep it. Keep this little sinful impulse as the one flaw he was allowed to have. Knowing that someone knew... Now that it had been said out loud, it felt like this part of him had been ripped away. Laid bare as the ugly thing it was.
Wil made him feel good. He felt safe and warm. He was beautiful and charming. Always amazing Bruno with his seemingly endless knowledge. His arms were strong when he held him. The memory of his beautiful sleeping face, the fantasy it had stirred in him, was permanently engraved on Bruno's heart. A memory now raw and exposed to the open air by the gaping wound in his chest.
He thought he could be his friend. Be happy just enjoying his presence. Being a part of his world for a short time. Now he knew. Wil felt the same way Bruno did. He didn't know what to make of that. There was a war in his mind the night Jacqueline told him. Part of him was fascinated, thrilled even. He wondered what Wil would do him if he could. His mind had raced with so many thoughts, from the tender to the perverse. It hadn't been the first time he'd gratified himself to the thought of this man.
It was the first time he'd felt so utterly wretched afterward.
Wilfredo was like him. He was wrong too. That was a hard revelation to cope with. Wil seemed so put together and proper. Bruno knew that was partly an act. He'd figured that out already. He wasn't expecting this. He thought he wanted to know who the man behind the mask really was. He thought he was starting to understand. Now he wasn't sure he wanted to know more.
More tears started to pour from his eyes onto the bedspread. He thought about story hour. He'd skipped it yesterday. Didn't explain anything to Camilo. He assumed the boy probably still went. He enjoyed that time with Wil. The way Wilfredo was always so patient and creative with the children. It made him so happy to watch Wil teach. He'd heard so many things about men like him. He didn't want those things to be true.
They weren't true about Bruno.
They might not be true about Wil.
He wanted so badly to believe in this man who'd affected him so intensely. He hadn't felt this kind of infatuation since he was a boy. He was too old to feel this way. He was too old for this kind of heartbreak. He wasn't ready to look Wil in the eyes yet. He needed time to think. Had Jacqueline told him already? Did he know?
"Bruno!"
Bruno flinched at the sound of Pepa's voice echoing off the walls of the tower. He pulled his arm back into his cocoon and burrowed deeper into the bed. She picked the lock again didn't she? Pepa learned how to do it when they were kids. Mamá and Julieta had given up, years ago, trying to get through to him when he was like this. Pepa never did. It didn't take long for his sister to storm into the open archway leading to his bedroom. He'd hung a curtain over the open space. He still wished he had a nice sturdy door like the one on his vision cave. Especially in moments like this. Pepa pulled the curtain aside letting the sunlight invade his wallowing space and burn his eyes.
Bruno let out a displeased hiss and buried his face.
"Vete!" He grumbled. His voice was hoarse and deeper than usual. He hadn't spoken in two days. Didn't want Dolores to hear his thoughts. All he could do was lock himself away inside his own head.
"Levántate." Pepa demanded.
Bruno peered out of his cocoon at Pepa. She was obscured by the bright light. Still, he could see her crossing her arms and just make out a faint cloud above her head. He considered trying to argue with her. He decided against it. He knew it wouldn't do him any good.
"Go get a bath hermanito and meet me at the cabin. We need to talk."
Bruno blinked at her. His eyes readjusted to the light. "Okey..." He grumbled.
Pepa waited expectantly in the doorway for him to move. She wouldn't leave until he got up. With a deep sigh, Bruno pushed himself up off the bed. Sitting upright still wrapped in blankets. His cocoon was hot and sweaty. Despite it, he didn't want to abandon it yet. He was only half-dressed underneath.
Pepa nodded in begrudging approval before turning to leave.
Bruno sat there in silence for a moment. His rats stared up at him expectantly. He drummed his toes against the floor. Taking a deep breath and letting out a long shaky sigh.
"Bueno, I guess we're doing this."
︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵
He put on some pants he'd left on the floor, grabbed a fresh change of clothes, then head downstairs to go wash up. A cluster of furry companions scurried along behind him. Most refrained from climbing him for now. He opened his door with a slow hesitant creek. Peering out to see who was around. The coast seemed clear. Most people would be out in town around this time of day.
"Are you feeling better Tío Bruno?"
Bruno stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs. He was paralyzed by Antonio's voice. Suddenly painfully aware of his sweaty disheveled appearance. His hair was tangled and hung loosely around his shoulders. His clothes clung half haphazardly to his gangly frame.
Antonio's eyes were so sweet. A friendly but concerned smile on his face. He held back a capybara who seemed a bit too interested in Bruno.
"I uh…" I took Bruno a moment to formulate words. "I'll be ok." He finally answered. "Just going to go wash up."
"Oh, ok." Antonio stepped aside so as not to block the stairwell.
Bruno gave him a weak smile before proceeding to walk around the courtyard to avoid the sun.
"Oh, uhm." Antonio piped up. Bruno winced. He stopped and waited to hear what the kid would say. "Señor Fontana was asking about you at the library yesterday. He was worried when you didn't show up."
Bruno felt every muscle tense. He forced out as calm of a reply as he could manage. "I'll make sure to talk to him later." He assured his sobrinito. "Let him know I'm ok."
Antonio seemed pleased with Bruno's answer and flashed him a smile. Scurrying off to his room with his capybara.
︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵
Bruno did relax a little in the bath. He still felt empty. Hollowed out. The warm water eased some of the aches in his bones. His rats gathered on the countertops to monitor him. Once he was clean and dry that at least felt better than being drenched in tears stains and sweat. His hair was a struggle to comb through. Pepa had trimmed it for him when he left the walls but he'd allowed it to grow out since then. Longer now than he used to keep it. Isabela's influence really.
Struggling with a particularly bad knot. He was so tempted to just chop it all off and be done with it. He restrained the urge however when Rosa climbed over the shears they kept in a crate on the counter with the rest of the hair care supplied. She shot him a scolding glare. Bruno sighed in resigned agreement and committed to gently and meticulously combing it out. While it may offer some temporary catharsis he knew if he lopped it off now he'd regret it later when the gnawing emptiness wore off. When his heart was his own again. He'd learned well enough not to do anything with lasting effects when he was in this state. He always regretted it later.
He opted to wear his old poncho instead of the ruana Mirabel had made for him. He didn't want anyone to approach him on the way to the cabin. Mirabel's ruana was too bright and colorful. Bad camouflage. With his hood up he could sneak through the woods and into the mountains undetected. In the last year or so the town had become a much friendlier place for him. Folks would greet him on the street and smile. Kids would run up to him to ask questions or invite him to play. On a normal day, he'd be grateful for this newfound kindness. He might even feel like he belonged here. On a day like this, it was the last thing he wanted. He just wanted to be alone. He knew Pepa wouldn't allow that.
It was a bit of a lengthy hike. Bruno could see clouds forming near his destination. Most of the rats had stayed behind but Juanita, Carlos, Beatrice, Rosa, and Sergio all chose to come with him. He didn't usually have so many furry companions on his person at once. Serio's claws were especially sharp as he clung to Bruno's back. Bruno was more than willing to tolerate his clumsy attempts at support. Sergio was usually such a brute and Rosa was normally too independent to spend the day with him. They were especially sweet today.
The cabin was their place. At least it started that way. When they were kids, and the weather was bad, Mamá would drag Pepa into the mountains. Leave her there to calm down. Pepa wasn't allowed to come home till the skies were clear. Part of it was practicality, to protect the village from her storms. Part of it was a punishment for not controlling her emotions.
Mamá was usually very controlled, stern, and indestructible. Bruno and Pepa always felt so frail compared to her. So silly and emotional and weak.
Mamá would head back home where Juileta would do her best to calm her temper. Bruno would sneak into the mountains to comfort Pepa. He never minded getting rained on and hated to leave Pepa there alone. The two would talk about whatever was bothering her. Even if it often took some coaxing to get her to talk. Sometimes Pepa would lash out at him. He didn't mind. He was willing to take the abuse if it helped her feel better. Usually, it didn't.
It was Bruno's idea at first. He build a little lean-to for them to huddle up together and shelter from the rain. Over time the two of them kept coming up with ways to make it better. Make it bigger. Over the years it grew into a small cabin on short stilts nestled into the mountainside. Even as Pepa gained more control over her powers she would still come here when she needed time to storm. It stopped being a punishment. It became a safe place. They brought Juileta the few rare times she was in trouble. Pepa hid him here when the town was angry with him. Pepa's children were born in this cabin.
︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵
The cabin came into view. Memories of feeling safe and loved came flooding back to him. He hadn't seen this place in over a decade. He never realized how much he missed it. The craftsmanship was crude and ugly. The wood was warped from years of water damage. Still, it held up even after all these years and so many, many, storms. Bruno counted the many claw marks of many long-dead rats on the floorboards as he made his way up the stairs. There were grooves worn into the frame of the door from all his knocking.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock on wood."
Bruno's knuckles slid effortlessly into the old grooves. The wood softened by his touch over the years.
"Apúrate! Your tea is getting cold." Pepa called from inside the hut.
Bruno felt a faint treacherous smile steal his face. Stepping through the threshold to find Pepa warming up some leftovers from breakfast by the small, crude, fireplace in the main room. The hut had two rooms. A living area with a fireplace, a table, and some chairs, and off to the side through an open doorway was a bedroom with a mattress on the floor and some bedding. Bruno noticed the broom he had left the last time he was here. Still propped upside down by the entrance. He felt comforted by it as he closed the front door.
"I know it's not as good as señorita perfecta but at least I know what you like." Pepa snarked with a smile. She brought over some freshly warmed tortillas.
Bruno sat down and took a sip of the now lukewarm tea. It was still good. Pepa sat down across from him and took a sip from her already half-empty cup.
"You sure took your time." She chided.
Bruno merely shrugged. He had nothing to say to that.
"No te encuentras bien?" Pepa asked.
Bruno looked down at his hands. That gnawing emptiness was back again. It drained what little joy he'd felt from his chest. Like blood from an open wound. "Obvio..." He muttered barely above a whisper. He wanted to be happy, to be fine. Joy was so hard to hold onto today.
Pepa rested her face in her hand. Watching him sip his tea. "You should eat." She insisted.
Bruno obeyed but said nothing.
"Did something happen?" She asked.
"Not really."
"How long do you think you'll be like this?"
"I don't know."
Pepa scrunched up her face. She examined him like she thought she'd somehow find the answers on Bruno's face. All he could do was stare blankly back at her.
"Los pequeños aren't used to seeing you like this." Pepa mused. "Mirabel was about ready to break your door down yesterday."
"It wouldn't be the first time." Bruno replied flatly.
"Mamá had to drag her to her room by the ear."
Bruno felt more of the blood gush out and pool at his feet. "I'll be sure to apologize to her later. I didn't mean to make her worry." Bruno tried to focus on the wood grain of the table. His eyes threatened to lose focus. His body grew cold. He felt so empty.
Pepa was silent again as she thought. She took a sip from her cup.
"I don't like Jacqueline." She admitted absent any particular context.
"I know." Bruno replied quietly. He stared into the grooves of the water-damaged wood. His eyes glazing over again.
"You're going to miss her when she's gone aren't you?" Pepa asked.
That jolted some life back into him. Where was she going with this?
"I, uh, yeah I guess. Her and Wilfredo. Son buenos amigos."
"Muy buenos amigos aparentemente." Pepa replied with a raised brow and a cheeky smile. "I heard you two snuck off together at the party. No one saw you for the rest of the night."
Oh no, no that wasn't what happened. The implication sent a slight shiver down his spine. He recalled Jacqueline's hungry lips. The way she forced her tongue down his throat and nearly strangled him. He'd kissed a woman before and it didn't disgust him like that. No this was probably more about the kind of person he knew her to be. Even then when he fantasized about another man's touch he often imagined something just as aggressive. Perhaps some things were more fun in theory than in practice. Or maybe he just saw Jacqueline as a sort of sister so the thought of doing anything sexual with her was just as repulsive. Whatever the reason the idea that people thought the two of them were an item disgusted him more than it probably should have.
"I didn't, we didn't-" He began to stammer awkwardly. Pepa got up to stand beside him.
She put a finger to his lips. Leaning down to hug his neck.
"I'm not mad Brunito." She shushed. "Jacqueline's an annoying puta but she always been sweet to you, lo que parece."
"It's not like that. Sólo somos amigos." Bruno insisted.
Pepa sat down in the chair next to him but kept one arm wrapped around his shoulder.
"Whatever it's like. She makes you happy, sí?"
They both made him happy. The Fontana siblings. Especially Wil. Jacqueline didn't always respect his boundaries, but she had a way of making him bold. Her energy was contagious, and Wil… Wil felt so safe, so warm and comforting. That man left him torn between wanting to hold and be held. He was at times strong and confident and protective, at other times wide eyes and curious and playful. Wil made him feel things that were both terrifying guilty pleasures and so sincere and wonderful. It was easy to forget they were wrong. He didn't want either of them to leave.
He hadn't really thought about it. He wasn't ready to let them go.
"Sí." He replied softly. Looking back down at his hands. Sergio had crawled into them for scratches while Carlos evaded Pepa's arms to snuggle into the crook of his neck.
He started to feel the tears spill over. He would try to choke them back but he was too tired. He heard a soft rumble of thunder outside as it started to rain. It took a lot of focus for Pepa to project her storms away from herself. It always seemed easier for her to do here. In this house, they built together. His turbulent sister pulled him close and ran her fingers through his hair as he ached in her arms. For a few minutes, they stayed like that. Not a word. She just held him while he listened to the rain on the thatched roof. It dripped through the corners onto the floorboards. Bruno let the tears drip down his face. Just more rain.
"You know." Pepa mused. She combed his hair with her fingers. "Some people are only meant to be in our lives for a short time."
"You're only saying that 'cause you've had more novios than hair bows." Bruno snarked.
Pepa pinched his shoulder till it hurt.
"Ay!" Bruno yelped. He jolted up. He had to restrain Sergio who tried to jump up to bite Pepa.
Pepa grinned back at him.
"I don't regret a single one." She said. "Those relationships weren't failures. They were experiences. Every single one helped make me who I am. They led me to Félix." She sighed. Looking away with bittersweet eyes. "I'm grateful to every man I ever loved." She confessed with a soft, wistful, smile before looking back at him.
"Bruno, make the most of your time together. Every heartbreak is a lesson learned."
Bruno froze. Considering her words. He doubted she'd give him the same advice if she knew what was really going on, and yet…
He nodded.
Maybe she was right.
︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵
Bruno wasn't sure what he was about to do. He just knew he needed to see him. After his talk with Pepa, he was determined to do something. He had no idea what, just something. He had to make sure Wil didn't think he had done something wrong. That Bruno was avoiding him.
He scurried off to the library with his hood up. Avoiding anyone he passed. He still wasn't in the mood to be seen. As he approached the library he was about to knock. He stopped. Remembering that Robledo would almost certainly be awake about now. It was late in the afternoon. Past the man's second nap of the day. Well before his bedtime. He felt his chest tighten at the memory of the dear old friend he'd hurt. He needed to talk to Wilfredo. That was more important right now. He could handle a passing hello to Robledo, right? It wouldn't be so bad surely. Nothing worse than he'd dealt with before right?
"Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock on wood."
A few seconds passed. Nothing. Maybe he should knock again?
"Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock on wood."
That was six right? He was pretty sure it was six. One more time maybe? Just to be sure he did it right.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock-"
"I'm right here."
Bruno froze. His ritual was cut off. He spun around to see Wilfredo and Robledo. Wilfredo looked confused. He held a sack of groceries in one hand and hooked an arm around Robledo with the other. The old man looked pretty worn out. His hand shook slightly. He gripped his cane tighter than usual. Wilfredo looked confused. Robledo stared up at him with a raised brow. Exactly what the old man was thinking was unclear.
Bruno smiled awkwardly. He tried his best to resist the urge to do his ritual one more time. They'd interrupted him. That couldn't be good. He needed to do it one more time. Just to be safe.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock on wood."
Bruno wheezed out an awkward. "Hola." in response to Wilfredo's confusion. Robledo didn't seem surprised.
"Hola." Wil laughed and shook his head. "Looking for me I take it?"
Bruno's face flushed hot red as he nodded meekly.
"Quítame las manos de encima, chico." Robledo griped. He pulled his free arm away from Wil. "I'm gonna go lay down. You two do whatever it is you do."
Wilfredo looked faintly concerned. "You sure you don't need my help getting up the stairs?" He asked.
"Soy viejo no estoy muerto!" Robledo snapped. Taking the bag from Wilfredo and hobbling inside. Shoving past Bruno on the way in.
Bruno felt himself shrink as he turned back to Wilfredo.
"Lo sietno. I didn't mean to make him angry. I shouldn't have come here when I knew he'd be up."
"Oh no, no pasa nada." Wil assured him. He took his glasses off to clean them. "He's just tired is all. I've been helping him make trips to and from the market lately. Figured the exercise would do him some good. He complains the whole time but I can tell he enjoys getting out of the library, even if he won't admit it."
Wil trailed off. He put his glasses back on and stared at Bruno. Bruno wasn't sure what kind of impression he was giving off but he watched as Wil's smile faded a little. Then Bruno remembered. He was wearing his old poncho, much less colorful and in worse repair. The hood was up and his hair was down. His eyes were probably still puffy and red. He didn't look good.
"Are you-"
"Estoy bien!" Bruno cut Wil off before he could finish the question. Bruno pulled his hood down to seem maybe a little less sinister. "I just wanted to stop by and say hola, 'cause you know, I wasn't at story hour yesterday."
"About that…" Wil replied slowly. Bruno realized how close he was leaning and stumbled back to lean up against the door frame.
"Antonio said you were sick? Was it something Julieta can't cure? Are you sure you're feeling alright? Do you want to come in? I could make some coffee and we could-"
"No está bien. I'm not staying long." Bruno insisted. He thought of the old man upstairs. Bruno took a deep breath. He worked up the courage to say the thing he came here for. "I just wanted to apologize for missing story hour." He explained. "I just wanted you to know it had nothing to do with you-"
"I never assumed it did." Wilfredo interrupted. He was looking very confused.
Bruno couldn't help the near-incoherent word vomit that followed. "I just, I, I wanted you to know that I uh, I appreciate you, like a lot, like gracias, for being here and being you and being friends, like, with me, it means a lot and I just, I'm going to miss you when you leave, and Jacqueline I guess. You're good friends. Did I say that already? I think I said that already. I just, I, I, gracias-"
"Bruno." Wilfredo stopped him. He was starting to look worried now. No that wasn't good. Bruno didn't mean to make him worry. "You're acting strange, stranger than usual." Wilfredo clarified.
"Oh, uh, I guess I'm still just a little indispuesto." Bruno chuckled awkwardly. "N-nothing contagious though." At least he was pretty sure debilitating heartache wasn't contagious.
"Y estás seguro de que estás bien?" Wilfredo asked again. He eyed Bruno cautiously. Wilfredo's body tensed slightly like he wasn't sure what to expect from him.
"MMH, HMM" Bruno hummed unconvincingly before deciding to abort. "Vayaaa that's all, I gotta go do a thing, like at a place, with people, I'm busy, gotta go, adiós!"
With that Bruno darted off before Wilfredo could reply.
Dios Mio what was that! Crazy freak! Now he just thought Bruno was insane. Good job. What did he think that was going to accomplish? What did he think he was going to do? Confess? Was that what that was supposed to be?
︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵
"Jacqueline!" He wined. Collapsing on the bar. Burring his face in his arms.
He was still mad at her but he knew he could talk to her about anything. As long as he wanted. Without judgment. She was also the only person who knew the truth about his current predicament. Besides, she got him into this mess in the first place. The least she could do was put up with his whining.
"Finally left la casa I see." Bruno heard the surprise in her voice as she spotted him collapsed on the countertop. "Ay! Te ves mal hombre. Está bien?"
Bruno peered up at her from behind a mess of loose curls. "What do you think?" He snarked.
Jacqueline leaned in closer. A slightly guilty expression as she rubbed his shoulder. "Eh, if this is about what happened at the party, I didn't think-"
"It's not about that." Bruno spat. He swatted her hand away. "Pues, algo así, pero no realmente."
"You need a drink amigo?" She asked.
Bruno nodded and Jacqueline darted inside to get him something. It was only then he noticed the other patrons at the bar snickering and whispering to each other. Marcello and his drinking buddy with the chronically unmemorable name.
"Would you look at that, our Brunito's all grown up." Marcello teased.
Bruno silently lifted his fist to slap his near-nonexistent bicep. He dropped his cheek into his hand and propped his elbow up on the bar. The two men only laughed and proceeded to pester him anyway.
"Ey, vamos, we're proud of you." The forgettable one explained. "Just don't get too attached. Jacqueline's got a lot of love to give. We all gotta share hombre."
"Uhg, you think I don't know that." Bruno groaned. He didn't need to be reminded of his friend's sexual habits. It only struck him how misleading that reply sounded after he said it. People were going to start thinking he was sleeping with Jacqueline. Maybe they already did.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock on wood."
That only sent his unruly company into roaring fits of laughter.
"Sí, sí, we'll let you two have some space." Marcello laughed before gesturing to his friend to leave.
That most certainly wasn't the impression Bruno intended to give off. At least he was grateful for the privacy. Jacqueline seemed mildly surprised by their absence when she returned. Bruno snatched the shot from her hand and downed it before she could ask. He winced a little at the unfamiliar taste.
"Stronger than usual." He confessed.
"A little something from my personal stash." Jacqueline explained with a braggadocious grin. She took a shot herself then hoisted her rear onto the counter beside him. "Get talking chico you clearly have some things to say."
︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵
Bruno winged on for hours. He did his best to stick to coded language though in hindsight he was probably barely coherent. There were just too many thoughts and feelings trying to consume him from the inside out. The sun set and the town grew quiet and dark. Neighbors began avoiding the bar so as not to deal with him in his deteriorating state. He started to drop the pretext. He was good and drunk by this point and seemed to have forgotten the world around him. It was just him and Jacqueline now. She was safe. He could trust her. Most of the time anyway. She was the best he could do right now.
"I then I told him, I appreciate you, and, gracias for being here and being you." Bruno left out the anxious stuttering.
"Bueno, that's almost a good frase para ligar." Jacqueline mused. She contemplated the empty shot glass in her hand. One leg had migrated onto the counter so she could turn sideways to face him and rest her head on her knee.
"It's not anything." Bruno whined. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know if I should do anything."
"Oye, I'm just the messenger. I told you, you could do what you want."
"I don't know what I want!" Bruno almost yelled. His rats had already fled to rest on the ground or the countertop to avoid his drunken flailing.
"That's a lie." Jacqueline snorted.
Bruno glared at her. "Do you have any idea what could happen if anyone found out?"
"Half this town already thinks I'm going to hell for loving men, just a little too much. I think I know."
Bruno screwed his eyes shut. Jacqueline grew fuzzy for a moment. His whole brain was fuzzy. "That's not the same thing." He groaned. "Por uno, you're not going to hell for liking men." He slurred out clumsily. "You just have no self-control."
"How dare you say things that are entirely true." Jacqueline scoffed playfully.
"Y por dose… y por dose." Her interruption made Bruno forget what he was saying for a minute. "I can't. Mamá would be so disappointed in me. I can't hurt mi familia like that again."
"Cállate! You need to stop hiding behind la perra's skirt like a scared little boy and start making decisions for yourself!" Jacqueline snapped.
Her words lit Bruno's veins on fire like a slap to the face. Without thinking he lunged forward to grab Jacqueline by the arm and yank her down to eye level.
"No hables de mi madre de esa manera!" Bruno growled. He almost surprised himself with the deep guttural sounds that escaped him.
"Calmas pendejo." Jacqueline grumbled. She yanked her arm away and adjusted her sleeve.
Bruno leaned back in his seat. His nails grinding on the wood in front of him. How dare Jacqueline talk about his mother like that. The mouth on this woman. This woman who was starting to grow a second face.
"Look what are you gonna do after this?" Jacqueline asked. Bruno opened his mouth to speak. Too drunk to realize it was a rhetorical question. She put a finger to his lips and answered for him. "You're gonna wait till everyone's asleep and sneak back into your own house cause tu Mami said you're not allowed to drink."
"I'm not. Bad things happen when I drink." Bruno attempted to explain. He felt a dull ache in the back of his skull. It had been nagging at him for hours now. He kept trying to ignore it. That was getting harder as his brain turned to putty.
"Pendejadas. Nothing good ever came out of me being sober." Jacqueline argued.
"Nothing good ever came out of you being drunk." Bruno grumbled. He rubbed his eyes with his palms. His face was hot and his eyes were burning. He needed to go home. Go to bed. Sleep it off.
"Me río de ustedes, I'm always drunk." Jacqueline teased.
"Exactly." Bruno replied. Blinking his eyes open again.
Jacqueline smacked his shoulder hard enough to make him yelp. "Ay!"
"You're a grown man Bruno, act like one. You can drink if you want. Quit letting tu familia control your life."
"The last time I was this drunk I ran around giving people fake visions." Bruno confessed. He let his head roll back and closed his eyes again.
"En serio?" Jacqueline replied in disbelief.
"MMMMMH, HMMMMM." Bruno hummed lazily. He recounted a festival twenty years ago. "Just like, the worst stuff I could come up with. Even threw in a real one so people would be left guessing." He laughed at the memory. "Mamá estaba muuuuuuy eeeenojaaaado." He slurred between giggles.
"Carajo! I didn't know you could be so much fun. Wish I could have been there." His shoulder demoness laughed.
"Of course you do." Bruno smiled. Almost proud for a brief moment. He furrowed his brow and stared up at the oil lantern hanging over his head. He tried to recall more details from that night. Nothing came to him though. It was all a blur. "I don't even remember why I was so angry."
Then it hit him again. That throbbing. He tried to hold it back. Too late. He collapsed on the bar exhausted as his gift took hold of him. Like a parent to a disobedient child.
"Bruno?!"
Bruno looked up but he couldn't see Jacqueline. Well, he could, and that was the problem. What he saw sent him flailing back in a panic. Knocking over the barstool and landing flat on the cobblestone. The rough collision sent shock waves of pain through his skull. He barely registered it.
There he was with Jacqueline at the altar. Emerald green silhouettes swearing their vows before god. Oh god. Please no. Jacqueline promised she wouldn't touch him again. This can't be right. He didn't want this. He'd done his best for years to escape being trapped in some loveless marriage. It was one of the few things he properly fought his mother on.
"Bruno, can you hear me?" Bruno felt a hand on his face. Gentle. Still, he scurried back on his hands in revolution as Jacqueline's worried face came into view.
"Bruno it's ok. Lo sietno, I just wanted to make sure you were ok." Jacqueline soothed. She got down on her knees to inspect him. She kept her hands away this time.
Bruno's heart was racing. No, no. She promised. She was his friend. He wasn't ready to give up what little freedom he had left. He didn't love her. He couldn't imagine ever loving her. Not like that. This was wrong. Nothing could be more wrong.
"I-I need to go. There's something I have to do." Bruno stuttered out before jumping to his feet and bolting away into the night.
Jacqueline called something out to him but he couldn't hear her. He didn't care if he was about to make a horrible mistake. He needed to feel this, just once. Before it was too late.
︵‿୨ -❇- ୧‿︵
Bruno nearly slammed into the library door in his hurry. Knocking chips of wood loose as he throttled the handle. The door was locked much to his surprise. Nevermind that. He knew if he didn't do this tonight his courage would leave him by morning. Rosa caught his attention with an encouraging squeak. Sergio was gnawing at the lock on the shutters to the front window. Bruno pushed the rat aside to jimmy the lock with a piece of wood that chipped off the door in his rattling.
Once the window was open he climbed inside onto the countertops. Unfortunately, he misjudged the distances and fumbled right over the edge and onto the floor. He winced at the loud thud he'd made and prayed Robledo wouldn't wake up. He just needed to talk to Wil. He had to see him. He couldn't back out now.
Bruno quickly scurried to his feet. He could hear faint shuffling sounds upstairs. Please don't be Robledo. He padded softly to the door that conjoined the library to the house. Careful not to be spotted yet. The door opened straight onto the base of the stairs. He looked up, past the railing. He could see a door open to a lit room. Not Robledo's door much to his relief.
Wilfredo looked perplexed. Possibly a bit worried. He poked his head out the door and looked around. He was stripped down to his undergarments. Absent his glasses his eyes looked so soft. Bruno had never seen so much of his body before. So much of his skin. Wilfredo spotted Bruno at the base of the stairs. Bruno could feel a wave of heat wash over him.
"Bruno?" Wil shrunk back behind the door slightly. "W-what are you doing here? Was that you downstairs? I thought maybe an animal had gotten in-"
Bruno flew up the stairs before Wil could finish rattling off questions. Jumping over the railing to skip the top steps in the process. This man asked too many questions.
When Bruno's lips touched his it felt electric.
Wil stumbled back in surprise causing Bruno to fall into his room. Tumbling drunkenly onto his chest. Bruno wrapped his arms around Wil's neck in a desperate attempt to keep himself upright.
"What's gotten into you?!" Bruno looked up at Wilfredo for a moment. He barely registered the words that were said. Only lost himself in the rush that consumed him.
"I-I need this." Bruno breathed. Almost unaware of the words that escaped his lips.
He could feel Wil's heartbeat against his chest. Bruno pulled himself up for another kiss. Deeper this time. He wanted to taste him. To savor every sensation. The taste of coffee and cigars. The smell of old books. Gripping tight to broad shoulders and blond hair that felt like feather down between his fingers. Bruno felt another surge of electricity as Wil moaned softly against his lips and he felt strong arms wrap around his frame. He'd always wondered what it would feel like to be held like this. He never thought it would feel this wonderful. The moment didn't last long.
Wil's fingers gripped his poncho tight before he pulled Bruno back from his face.
Wilfredo's eyes were sad and pleading. "You don't want this."
Bruno felt that hole in his chest again. Like he was bleeding out onto the floor. He tried to control his breathing. No, no, no. That's not how this was supposed to go. No. Not him. Bruno was so sick of being told what to do. How to feel. Just once. Just this once he wanted to be selfish. To be himself without guilt or shame. Just for a moment. Wil was supposed to be different. He was supposed to understand.
"Don't tell me what I want." He growled. His nails bore down into whatever they could. He stole another kiss in protest. Clinging desperately to that jolt of electricity that was now failing him. He felt so desperate and sad. He could feel the emptiness trying to swallow him up again.
He thought he heard the man wince. Wil shoved him up against the door and covered Bruno's mouth with a heavy hand. The sudden gesture startled Bruno but when he looked back at Wil's face he didn't see anger, only heartache. Some deep, aching, all too familiar, pain.
"Por favor, amor, no así."
Bruno felt tears overwhelm him. The sound of Wil's broken voice brought him back to reality. Of course. What did he expect? Why was hurting people the only thing he was good at? Why did he think this would be different?
He let out a muffled frustrated scream into Wil's hand before breaking down into pathetic, broken, sobs.
Wil's hand left his face. Bruno fell forward into his chest and continued to sob. He wrapped his arms around Wilfredo again and held him close. The rest of that night was a blur. Despite it, even through the pain and frustration, Wil's arms were warm and comforting.
Maybe he did understand.