Chapter 7 #2
“I like a bit of hellfire,” Jonathan said, his tone low and saucy as he stepped away from the stove and over to the table. “I like it very much indeed.”
He reached Charlie, grasped his chin, and tilted his face up. Charlie seemed to melt under his touch, and when Jonathan crashed his mouth possessively over the young man’s he sighed and returned the kiss with fervor.
Charlie most definitely had the sort of passion within him that would have seen him dismissed from the ordinary world.
No wonder he’d appeared to fit so perfectly in the surroundings of The Zagreus Den.
That thought alarmed Jonathan enough that he ended the kiss and turned quickly away from Charlie, heading back to the counter to see if they had anything to eat.
He wasn’t particularly hungry after the excellent feast of the afternoon, but he needed to do something to distract from the swirl of feelings that remembering The Zagreus Den gave him.
“I’m not certain I should accept Brutus’s photography job,” he said while his back was still turned to Charlie, slicing a few pieces of the day’s bread.
“You…you aren’t?” Charlie asked hoarsely.
Jonathan glanced back over his shoulder at him. Charlie had unfurled from his tight pose and now seemed to be all arms and legs, like he might fall out of his chair if he didn’t brace himself.
“I’m already beholden to him for giving you such a lovely gift of clothing,” Jonathan said with a careless shrug that he didn’t feel, turning back to the counter. “I do not like to feel beholden to anyone. I risked too much to grasp my freedom to then hand it over to somebody else.”
His stomach tightened at his own words. He hadn’t thought that was what would have come out of his mouth.
He also didn’t expect usually silent Charlie to ask, “Would it help people if you took those photographs?”
Jonathan turned back to him again. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Brutus and his brother were alarmingly vague about their intents and how the photographs would be used. They raised more questions in my mind than they answered, if I am being honest.”
“Questions?” Charlie tilted his lovely head with a small frown.
Jonathan shrugged. He put the bread he’d sliced onto a plate along with a pot of butter and a block of cheese, then took it to the table.
“One lurid afternoon was by no means enough time for me to decide whether Brutus and his brother’s intentions are noble or nefarious,” he said as he buttered a piece of bread, then handed it to Charlie. “One does not wish to find themselves on the wrong side of morality, after all.”
Charlie stared at him.
The look sent prickles down Jonathan’s side.
He supposed it was a bit rich of him to prattle about morality when he earned the bulk of his income creating pornography using young men he’d plucked off the street.
But he fed and paid those men. It wasn’t as if he forced them to do anything against their will.
Charlie continued to watch him without picking up the buttered bread Jonathan had set in front of him. The intensity in his eyes became more uncomfortable with each second that ticked by.
Finally, Jonathan sighed and let go of the tension he hadn’t realized had gathered in his shoulders.
“I’m just a hedonistic pornographer, Charlie,” he made the excuse for himself.
“I choose to live unconventionally and to expose the hypocrisy of my father’s class.
That does not necessarily qualify me to participate in whatever plot Brutus and his brother are hatching.
I cannot help but feel as if everything we saw today and everything that is being asked of me is far outside the purview of who I am. ”
That was the heart of it, really. Brutus and Titus were part of something much bigger than the world Jonathan had created for himself. Who was he to pretend he could help them?
“I think you should help them,” Charlie said, eyes lowered, barely above a whisper.
Jonathan’s brow shot up. “You do?”
Charlie nodded.
Jonathan lifted a piece of bread to his mouth, then froze as Charlie said, “The Zagreus Den is a good place.”
Jonathan’s mouth remained open, even when he lowered the bread. “A good place?”
Charlie nodded.
When he didn’t offer more, Jonathan said, “It is a den of iniquity. Scantily clad young men, lurid artwork, dubious entertainment, and more.”
Charlie lifted his head and met Jonathan’s eyes. “It is safe.”
Jonathan’s mouth twitched. He wasn’t certain if Charlie understood what he’d seen at the Den. “Er, Charlie, you know why those young men are there, what purpose they serve, do you not?”
Of all things, a small smile danced over Charlie’s lips. “They are safe. They are clean and well-fed and happy.”
Jonathan sat back slightly. He supposed that would make the place feel like a sanctuary to someone who had spent the last month cast out on the street.
“They are prostitutes, Charlie,” Jonathan explained carefully, resting a hand over Charlie’s.
Charlie shook his head. “They are owned. They are cared for.”
Jonathan’s body tightened all over again. Was that what he’d seen? Was that why some of the men in the banquet hall had smiled and petted their companions as if they were cherished pets?
“I want to belong to you,” Charlie blurted, jolting Jonathan out of his thoughts.
Hot and cold raced through Jonathan with the fury of a storm. For a moment, he was the one who couldn’t speak. He gaped at Charlie, wondering if he’d heard the young man correctly.
Charlie shied away from him, turning his head. Color flared in his cheeks again, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just said.
“Charlie,” he began cautiously, placing his hand over the young man’s again.
He meant to come right out and say that he was in no position to own or care for anyone.
He valued his freedom too much to seek out a partner from the legion of willing men that lived their lives in secret throughout London.
He could have joined The Brotherhood if he wished to keep company with men like them who fancied themselves part of polite society.
He could’ve argued that Charlie didn’t really know him, that their acquaintance was only days old.
Or that his business didn’t allow him the time to foster any sort of intimate relationship.
But Charlie had been a quick learner where the photographic process was concerned. He’d been incredibly useful during the two sessions he’d assisted with in the last few days. And it might be nice to have a steady companion around the house to stave off the worst of his loneliness.
But owning him?
“I suppose there would be no harm in accepting the job Brutus and Titus have offered,” he said, deflecting away from emotions that were too intense for him to manage at that moment.
He pulled his hand away from Charlie’s.
Charlie leaned toward him, like he didn’t want to let Jonathan go.
“I’m still not convinced my father or Lord Frome will be persuaded to hire me to begin with,” Jonathan went on, forcing himself into his most carefree and casual manner as he put more butter on the piece of bread he’d already buttered for himself just to give his hands something to do other than reach for Charlie.
“It might all come to nothing in the end.”
Charlie leaned back, radiating disappointment. He lowered his eyes to his piece of bread for a moment, then gingerly picked it up and nibbled one corner.
It killed Jonathan to think that he’d disappointed the young man.
He had no idea why. He didn’t know Charlie.
The young man was new in his life. He was not a part of the world Jonathan had constructed for himself, not a part of his life at all.
Why should the downtrodden look on Charlie’s face tie his stomach in knots and make his buttered bread taste like ash.
“I suppose, if nothing else, Brutus’s job would mean a lovely weekend at a country estate,” he said slowly after giving up trying to eat because of the way the bread sat like lead in his stomach. “Have you ever seen the countryside?”
Charlie perked up at once. The flash of fire and hope in his eyes made Jonathan feel as if someone had loosened heavy chains that had been draped around him. Charlie shook his head.
“Then if this thing comes to pass, it would be quite an adventure for you,” he said, smiling.
Charlie smiled back, letting out a breath of relief, his whole body sagging with it.
“We’ll have to see if my father takes the bait, though,” Jonathan cautioned him, reaching for a knife to cut a few slices of cheese. He gave the first one to Charlie, then took the rest for himself. “It may still all come to nothing.”
It probably would. Brutus was underestimating his father’s hatred of him. But a tiny part of Jonathan began to hope that he might be able to do something to make Charlie proud after all.