by Nia Lucas
The lads came into the bar for the last hour of the party, there was no way I was getting rid of the silly sods. By the time we fell asleep at about 4am, I could not tell you how many times they 'made it up to me'. That night gave me a well deserved bout of cystitis.
Monday 25th December 1995
After a Christmas Eve night spent working for a frazzled Gill in a pub filled with festive pissheads, I’m woken by confused grumbles of, “What the fuck....?” as Lee stretches and hits his arm on the stocking by his side of the bed. The boys had been roped in as ‘unofficial pub security’ last night, Shay absolutely beside himself with such power bestowed. To be fair, I’ve never seen the pub so busy and when a fight broke out amongst two known troublemakers, the efficiency with which Shay and Lee ejected the instigators led to a lot of back slaps and praise from the older regulars. Gill’s effusive hugs and thanks made Lee bashful but Shay, as always, relished the attention.
As Lee slowly sits up in bed, his confusion deepens as he picks up the stocking whilst watching me vibrate with anticipation beside him, my weeks and weeks of extra shifts and random paid work coming to fruition. I chuckle when he continues to look boggled and I sit up pressing a kiss to his lips with a murmured, “Happy Christmas Lee”. The look he gives me is beautiful, it's like wonder and when I nudge him to open the stocking, he reaches in, not taking his eyes off me. Gently and slowly, he sits back and fishes out present after present. Toiletries, aftershave, chocolate, socks, pants, a training poi set, a set of screwdrivers, a few daft toys, CDs and a photo of me and him together that I took at his birthday meal. I've stuffed it full.
He sits, wide eyed with a lap full of presents, just staring at the things and then at me, “This...you did this Shortie?”, his words are croaky and soft.
I grin, “Nah mate, Santa”, I wink as he stares at me for a few seconds before oh-so-gently, reaching to cup my cheek and with scant regard for musty morning breath, he kisses me so tenderly that I let out a little sob as I grip his t-shirt and allow him to say what he needs to in this kiss.
“Wha's this?”, Shay mumbles as he too stretches and encounters his stocking, causing Lee to break our kiss and look at Shay's reaction.
Predictably, Shay's reaction is much louder and giddy than Lee's, making me chuckle as he delves into the stocking, whooping at the toys and things to fiddle with as well as the chocs and the toiletries that every good stocking should have. His photo frame contains a picture of me and him, fireworks night, taken by Han as I sat on Shay's broad shoulders to get a better view of the bonfire. In it, I'm laughing and Shay is kissing my hand. It’s my favourite one of him.Shay grabs me and pins me to the bed, blowing raspberries into my tummy and pressing kisses to my skin as he thanks me.
I roar, “It was fucking Santa”, as I laugh and squeal.
There’s more laughter when I spot that they’re both still wearing the Christmas PJ’s that I blackmailed them into putting on last night.
Heading to the loo, Lee shouts, “Shortie, what the fuck is this?”, from the lounge.
Shay leaps up like a lunatic and chases in. I join them and watch them gape at the pile of gifts under the tree, all with their names on them.
“These...these for us Shortie? What...what did you do girl?”, Lee looks amazed and adorably boggled.
I pad over to him, nuzzling into his warm back, “Happy Christmas Lee”, I press a kiss to his shoulder.
I pad over to Shay and press a kiss into his warm chest, “Happy Christmas Shay”, he's gaping like a fish.
They stand there staring at me and I roll my eyes, “Well? You gonna open them or what?”.
With a whoop, Shay drops to his knees and grabs the big box in the middle, “This one's for both of us bruv, look”, he sounds mystified as I bounce on the balls of my feet with anticipation.
When Shay rips the paper and it's clear what lies within, the shouts from both of them are deafening in our little flat. Lee, his need for the loo seemingly forgotten, lifts me in his arms and kisses me like I've just performed a miracle. Shay, jigging about as he clutches the big box that houses their new Playstation, beams wider than I have ever seen before.
As Lee heads to the loo, Shay picks me up so that I am nose to nose with him, “I fuckin' love you Little Red. You....you're fuckin' everythin' Lor”, and he kisses me with enough passion to make me wobbly.
The games, the console, Lee's new trainers, Shay's new shirts, they are all unwrapped and met with unfettered happiness and lots of kisses. It genuinely does not register, not for a long time, that there is nothing under the tree for me. It doesn't register because I have everything that I want. Right here, in this flat. I have everything that I could ask for.
With the boys engrossed in their new toy, I walk to Dad's. It's not home now, it's 'Dad's' and with Mum safely and predictably at Mass, I watch as he and Dan unwrap their gifts, Dan whooping with delight at his gig tickets. Dad hugs me tightly and thanks me for his jumper and his updated photo of Dan and I, a tear wiped from his eye when he turns away. Dad goes upstairs and he comes back with a poorly wrapped box. I smile and take it from him, unwrapping it slowly. Inside lies some perfume, socks, a pretty bracelet and an envelope. The envelope says, “You spend this on you”. Inside it is another £300.
I gasp and try to hand it back, explaining that the previous cash he gave me was more than enough for my Christmas present.
Dad looks sad and shakes his head, “No darlin', no, I know what you did with that money. I expect those lads have presents waiting for them, am I right?”, he looks at me and I try to look non-committal.
He holds my gaze, “You buy stuff just for you sweetheart, just you”, and he kisses my head.
I spend about twenty minutes chatting before Dan and I head to the flat for our Christmas celebration, laughing as we see that the lads are engrossed in the PlayStation, taking Dan with them into their screen-glazed stupor. I do have presents, they were stuffed in their underwear drawers. They’ve bought me some really nice lingerie (“I had to take your fuckin' bra to the shop to get the right size Little Red, fuckin' shamin'”) and a really lovely Moschino dress (“Rose got it Shortie, I ain't got no clue”).
The pub’s Christmas Carvery is busy but lovely, all the customers filled with festive cheer and my three hours working pass quickly. There's tonnes of carvery and puddings leftover and with the customers gone, the four of us tuck in with gusto, Shay eating himself into oblivion as Lee and Dan rip the piss and pull crackers.
Fed and back in the flat, Han pops in and we retreat to the bedroom to exchange presents and gossip without the boys. Her Christmas has been OK this year thanks to it taking place at her Auntie’s where her mum has to behave, making a nice change. Her gift to me is a framed picture of a dreamy beach scene for the flat.
I smile at her as she whispers into my hair, “I think you need to do it chick, I think Ibiza is something you should do”, as she hugs me.
I give her the parcel containing the plaid mini-skirt, cropped jumper and over the knee socks that we saw when we were out shopping and she squeals loudly. As she tries it all on, she tells me about the jewellery that Chris bought for her, the beautiful necklace that she’s wearing.
“Lor, have you.....er, have you bought D'Angelo anything?”, Han looks suddenly uncomfortable.
I’m confused, “Yeah, I got him a pile of CDs copied off Justin and a T-shirt for the gym that says, 'Italian Boys Do it Better', why?”, I’m boggled.
Han sighs and rolls her eyes, “Lor, I was at his house last night with Chris and...and I saw what he's bought you. Lor...it's pretty gorgeous. I think...I think you need to be careful with him. I think maybe he's still in a bit deeper than friendship. Be gentle with him, yeah? It turns out that D'Angelo's a really nice guy, who'd have known that last year, eh?”, and Han laughs without much humour. Shit.
Han looks amazing in her Christmas outfit, Dan looks like a stunned mullet when we enter the lounge, his jaw dropping as he takes in the view. He jumps up and
stares at her, awestruck. Han laughs self-consciously and with a quick change back into her jeans and a hug goodbye, she heads off. Yawning, Dan heads back to Dad's at about 8pm, his slightly staggering steps the result of the beers that Shay plied him with.
He hugs me tight and mumbles, “Best Christmas ever Midget, seriously”, as he kisses my head and wobbles off into the frosty fog.
In the warm, cozy lounge, strewn with Christmas presents and a frickin tonne of chocolate, Lee and Shay are playing on the Playstation, taking the piss out of each other's performance. We watch a Christmas film after much nagging by me, we eat a tonne of chocolate, we cuddle and snooze. Kisses, strokes, touches, they start out lazily, we're all a bit soporific and too filled with sloth for outright passion. Lee is kissing me, deeply and sweetly as Shay lazily fondles my boobs, whooping when he realises that I have my Christmas knickers set on.
It's Shay that strips me as Lee pulls me higher in his lap, fingers teasing me. Shay takes me from Lee's arms and lifts me as if I weigh nothing, laying me down on the bed but then he leaves. I have barely time to look confused before I engulfed in warm, tanned skin, surrounded by muscles and stroked with fingers as Lee Barrett makes the sort of love to me that’s like a gift, it’s precious to me. His strong body flexes and undulates as he presses kisses to my skin, groans his pleasure, whispers his love.
We lie panting, “Merry Christmas Shortie”, he whispers into my ear as he kisses me again.
I feel him shift his weight from me and off the bed, hear him gather his jockey shorts and then he's gone too.
I’m a bit too blissed out and as I start to slip into a naked snooze on the bed, the mattress dips and I smile at the sensation of warm, smooth skin against mine, shaggy blond hair tickling my face as he kisses me silly. Shay
He whispers, “Wake up Little Red, you an' me, we got a Merry Christmas to be havin’ right here”, his voice is like the actual devil on my shoulder.
I open a sleepy eye and see him grinning at me, waving a slip of paper. A handmade voucher. The voucher that I'd put in his stocking, giving him the thing he’s been after for ages. He's cashing it in tonight it appears. I look at him, at his smirk, his barely contained excitement. I look at him and I nod. Yes. The smile fades from his face, the look replaced by danger and with a growl, he’s on me, his hands and fingers are stroking, teasing. He grabs the recently-acquired lube as he kisses me deeply and urgently. I knew this was where we would go tonight. I knew. I think I want this. I used an earlier bathroom trip to do all the things Justin advised me to do, to prepare.
Shay is insensible with giddiness, “Oh fuck, fuck I can't believe we're gonna do this Lor, you're gonna let me...? I'll be so gentle Little Red, fuckin' honest, I'll make it feel so good”, he bites his lip and grabs the vibrator, I hear him cover it in lube as I feel the pressure of it's warm, rubbery tip opening me up and making me squirm.
“OH FUCK! Little Red”, Shay is just a lanky mass of sensation right now looking down at me like some sort of fallen angel, his mouth slack with pleasure, his beautiful, chiselled body highlighted by the soft light.
“Can I....Lor, can I try? Let me try?”, his words are hoarse with desperation and I nod, giddy with the effect that I can have on him.
Shay swears and moves, climbing back down the bed to where the lube is, slicking himself with a whole handful of gloop as I feel him twist and pull out the vibrator and then I feel Shay pull at my hips, the warmth of his thighs against the back of mine. My breath hitches and I feel him there, I feel him push, I feel my stretched muscles give. I watch his face as his eyes go impossibly wide, as his jaw drops, as the cords of his neck stretch with tension. I feel every centimetre slide, I feel the stretch that borders on a painful burn. I hiss and wince as that pressure becomes uncomfortable and Shay stops immediately, bless him, he stops and pulls back, looking at me wide eyed and frantic.
“Slowly, yeah, it just burns a bit”, I try to smile reassuringly.
Slowly, he nods and starts to slip further into me, the stretch is not that pleasant but the look on his face makes me melt, even though my arse is complaining. I feel a sense of fullness that is a bit alarming but when Shay groans deeper in his throat than I have ever heard, I relax slightly.
“Oh fuckin' hell, Lor, can I move? Let me fuckin' move? This is so good”, he sounds in proper agony but as I nod, his face relaxes in bliss.
Shay groans and I make a loud guttural noise that I had no idea I was capable of making. Oh, this is good.
“Oh Lor, Lor, I'm gonna come, oh fuck, FUCK, I'm coming ....nrrgghhhhhhhaaaaahhhhh”, Shay shouts into the room as I feel his muscles tremble.
With no pause, Shay is all over me, kissing me sloppily, telling me how much he loves me, how amazing that was, how he wants to do that again and often but as he gabbles on, I squirm with unsatisfied want. Shay is oblivious, he's high as a kite from having gotten what he's wanted for ages but when I hear a chuckle from the doorway, I know that I have salvation.
I look at Lee, our eyes locking and my frustration making me fierce, “ Lee, pleeeaasse”.
The smirk Lee gives is feral as he drags me to the shower, where we stay for quite some time. Back in bed, we lie in a row, the three of us sex-sated and dopey from festive food, snuggled together.
“Merry Christmas Motherfuckers”, Shay mumbles.
I laugh so hard that I do a fanny fart, something that makes Shay whoop with hilarity and makes me bury my head in Lee's shoulder in mortification, as he shakes with silent laughter.
Merry Fucking Christmas.
Monday 1st January 1996
My early morning breakfast with Justin in Shoreditch, while the boys sleep off their New Years hangovers back at Rosa's house, turns out to consist of OJ and a tonne of cigs. Justin, when he is finally coherent, reminds me that I needed to give him an answer about Ibiza by the end of next month. He works me over, selling me stories of blissful days on beaches, crazy nights with the best music, fun, sun, lightness, carefree times,
“Look sweets, think of it like this. You go out there mid-May to mid-September. You pay for one flight home, say at the middle of June, for that modular exam bollocks that you’ve got. Then, they come out for a holiday in mid- July for a few weeks, taking it to August. You'd be home then second week of September. It'd barely be five weeks in between visits at most, surely those silly wankers can cope alone for five fucking weeks at a time?”, he's gripping my hands and I'm nodding.
Justin's right, he's so right. It's not four months apart, it's blocks of about five weeks in between potential visits. Jesus, that's nothing. I try and ignore the voice that's giddy with the prospect of freedom, of having to only look after myself for that time. God, I want to do this.
I grin and I nod, “I'll come Justin, just let me make it cool with my tutors”. And them.
He screams and makes himself wince, his hangover raw and brutal.
Monday 8th January 1996
Lee started college tonight. It’s Monday nights, 7pm-10pm for rest of the academic year. He was so, so nervous that my heart ached for him and he gripped my hand like a vice. In the quiet college corridors we quickly located the Foundation Electrics tutor, a kindly man in his fifties who reminded me of a slimline Jock. He asked Lee for his help in setting up the classroom, despite Lee's silent, scowling attitude. I sat with Lee until the class started at which point I sat in the corridor and did my own coursework.
When he came out of the lesson, he told me, “I'll be OK Shortie, you stay and do your work at home next week, yeah?”. My grin was stupidly broad.
Shay is, as anticipated, harder work. Tuesday nights, Adult Literacy at the Library with Librarian Sheila and a handful of other people, all of whom are older and don’t speak much English. He refused outright to go without me that first session and it took threats of physical violence and celibacy to actually get him out of the door and down to the library. Once there, he sulked like a 6ft 2 inch child, arms crossed, frown on. We spoke to Sheila, having arrived early
and it became clear that her very calm, peaceful life had not really brought her into contact with a Shay before.
Her kindness and patience won him over although it was completely clear, from the get-go, that I could not leave him to fly solo, there was to be no studying in hallways for me. I had to sit with him, like a Learning Assistant and keep him on task and on track. If his teachers at the Exclusion Unit knew that a firm, threatening grip on Shay O'Driscoll's dick through his jeans prevents him from titting about in lessons, his education would have been a very different experience I'm sure. Sadly it also had a somewhat stimulating effect and in the coffee break, we had our hands clapped over each other's mouths as he shagged me in a dark corner of the library car park. He stayed for the whole class and we came away with a load of coloured plastic sheets to lay over the pages of the reading books that he’d been given for homework, to help him.