Chapter Three
John-Francis
No sooner had my eyes opened than Ronan was on my mind. I had a banging headache, and I felt sick as a pig, hungover to shite, and yet a grin worked its way onto my face.
I hadn’t expected to see that cute fucker again, but I made a resolution that he wouldn’t be getting away from me twice.
The lingering eye contact we’d made outside the pub that first night had lit a fire inside me.
When he’d made a show of eye-fucking me a second time, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to resist. It turned out my new friend had taken little to no persuasion either.
Ronan was like me, and he had done what we’d done before, that much was clear.
It was always a thrill whenever I crossed paths with another fella who shared my inclination, never mind one that was such a fucking ride.
Ronan was hot as all hell, and I couldn’t deny I was eager for a repeat performance.
It was hot inside my caravan and fighting through a wave of nausea, I struggled up onto my knees and cracked open a few windows.
The fresh summer air helped a little, though I took my time getting dressed, keen not to risk spewing.
The horse fair was in full swing today and I’d be damned if I missed out because of a hangover.
Once I’d choked down a bottle of water, I hopped down from the caravan, locked up, and made my way over to the toilet block to shower off any evidence of last night.
Once I was dried and dressed, I made a beeline for Declan’s place.
I knocked once, then twice… By the third time, I was hammering my first firmly against his door until I eventually got a response.
“Feckin’ give it a rest!”
“I’ll give ya a feckin’ rest, y’prick,” I muttered, hitting the door again. “Get y’lazy arse outta ya bed.”
I heard movement from inside and I stepped back, narrowly missing being hit by the door as a pale and angry Declan opened it.
“The fuck d’ya want?” he grumbled.
He was in bits too, that much was certain. Despite myself, I felt a smirk creeping onto my face. “Ah, sure, y’look ‘bout as grand as I feel, boyo.”
Declan didn’t respond, but when he stepped back inside, I took his silence as an invitation and clambered up into the caravan behind him.
“I feel like feckin’ shite,” Declan muttered, flopping down on his bed.
“Aye, y’not alone, but y’gotta get it together,” I replied, looking around. It was dark and dingy, curtains still drawn and shite everywhere. “The fair is up and runnin’. We can’t be missin’ out, now.”
There was a moment of silence, and I knew Declan was wrestling with himself. If he thought he was getting out of the fair after we’d come all this way, he had another thing coming. Thankfully, he saw sense.
“Fine. I need t’ grab a shower an’ hope I don’t bring up me ringpiece on the way over there,” he groaned.
“Ah, that bad now, fella?” I chuckled. “Tol’ ya y’shoulda taken that line I offered.”
Declan simply gave me the finger before pushing up out of bed and grabbing some fresh clothes and a towel.
As soon as Declan was gone, I opened the curtains, made up the bed, and cracked a window.
I wasn’t about to be cleaning up after my mate like a wee housemaid, but I couldn’t stand sitting here in the stink and the dark for a moment longer.
Thankfully, I wasn’t left waiting for long and soon enough Declan made a reappearance, washed and dressed.
“Feckin’ kip it is in here, fella,” I muttered. “Y’need t’ get yourself a wife t’ keep this place tidy if ya not gonna do it yourself, y’lazy bastard.”
“I will, yeah,” he replied sarcastically.
I slapped him playfully across the back of the head, knowing what sort of reaction that was likely to incite from my hot-headed friend. Declan laughed, grabbing hold of my collar and hauling me out of the caravan.
“Don’t y’be gettin’ handsy wi’ me, John-Francis. Let’s not forget who put y’on ya arse every time we boxed as kids now,” Declan shouted, shoving me playfully.
“Aye, but now I got a good stone on ya!” I lunged for him, not at all surprised when he evaded me.
“Of feckin’ flab, not muscle y’fat langer,” Declan teased.
At that, I laughed. “Feckin’ cheeky cunt!”
As we made our way out of the camp, we fell in step beside one another. There was a moment of comfortable silence before I spoke again.
“Y’lookin’ forward to the fair?”
“I would be if I wasn’t hangin’ out me arse,” Declan grumbled, kicking an empty can into the undergrowth.
“Nothin’ a couple o’ shots won’t fix, fella,” I replied, clapping him on the back and laughing when he groaned in response.
“F’sure this weekend is gonna kill me.”
Appleby was absolutely heaving, crowds of travellers and tourists everywhere.
Strings of horses trotted by us, the din of hooves clattering on tarmac was deafening and as we made our way over the river bridge, I could see many more down below being ridden into the Eden as they were washed off, ready for showing later in the day.
The fair wasn’t like I remembered, not anymore. It was huge these days, no longer just about buying and selling horses. There was a seemingly endless array of stalls selling traditional traveller clothing, food, crafts…
Declan tapped me, drawing my attention. “Where to first, fella?”
“Y’up f’eatin’ yet?” When Declan grimaced, I chuckled. “Let’s get a wee drink in ya then. Nothin’ like hair o’ the dog t’ shift a hangover, aye?”
I ignored my mates complaining, weaving my way through the crowds to one of the many pop-up bars. After wrestling my way to the front, I caught one of the attendant’s eyes.
“Two vodkas an’ Coke if ya would, fella,” I shouted.
He nodded, darting away to fill plastic cups.
I dug out a forged note, knowing full well that the lad was well overrun here and too busy to check for fakes.
He returned, placing the cups down and snatching the note from me without even a second glance.
I grinned, taking the change that I didn’t rightly deserve before carefully making my way back to Declan.
“Here, get that down ya neck.” I passed over the drink, laughing when Declan raised it to his lips and immediately baulked.
“Feck, I can’t,” he groaned, covering his mouth with his fist as he fought not to heave.
“Don’t be a wee fanny, now,” I chastised playfully. I took a mouthful of my own, ignoring how my stomach churned as I forced myself to swallow the bitter spirit. “Get it down ya.”
Not one to be out done, Declan steeled himself and tipped the drink back with a grimace. When it didn’t make a reappearance, I clapped my hand against his back with a grin.
“Ya’ll be feelin’ better in no time.”
“Don’t mind tellin’ ya I doubt I’d be feelin’ much worse, like,” Declan replied, taking another dutiful sip.
We wandered about a wee while, looking at the stalls and chatting with familiar faces.
There was nothing here either of us wanted to purchase – we weren’t in the market for a wee nag, nor the plethora of souvenirs that were peddled to the tourists.
After doing a slow circuit around the fair, Declan and I found ourselves loitering around the food stalls and pop-up bars.
Despite how I fought to keep him off my mind, I was searching for Ronan at every turn.
He’d be here today, I knew that for certain and though the likelihood of us crossing paths by chance a third time was exceedingly slim, I couldn’t help but scour the crowds for his cute, wee fecking face.
I was keen to have another go with him before the fair was over and we both went our separate ways for good.
Something about him had gotten under my skin.
It had been hot as all hell, raw, real… I hadn’t felt that way since Eoghan and it excited me.
Declan and I didn’t remain a twosome for long. Soon enough we were joined by Seamus and a few of the other lads.
“Oi, oi! Howsagoin’ y’wee pair o’ langers?”
I laughed whilst Declan sized up to Seamus, spoiling for a playful sparring session. Just the same as he had to me, Declan easily got the better of Seamus, trapping him in a headlock.
“A’right, ya made y’point like!” Seamus spluttered, leaping away and straightening the collar of his polo shirt when Declan eventually released him. I smirked at him, earning myself a scowl.
“Dunno what y’gurnin’ ‘bout,” he muttered. “Dec whoops y’arse just the same, now.”
“Aye, but I don’t go ‘round givin’ it the big ‘un an’ talkin’ out me arse either, like,” I retorted.
Seamus was still fussing with his shirt, Declan having moved on to greeting some of the other lads. I couldn’t resist another opportunity to rib our mate.
“What y’feckin’ fannyin’ ‘bout wi’ y’wee collar like a melter for, now?” I asked, taking a sip from my drink. “Y’tryin’ ta impress?”
“Aye, well, y’never know. Plenty o’ wee fine feeks about the fair, eh?” He sniffed, standing up a little taller.
“Y’think they’d be interested in a wee gobshite like yourself?” I teased. “Can’t polish a jobbie.”
That earnt me a firm punch in the arm and I started laughing.
“Ah, feck off y’feckin’ cunt!” Seamus yelled. “What’d ya know ‘bout it anyhow? When’s the last time y’got y’leg over anythin’ that wasn’t the feckin’ shitter, like?”
I did my best to laugh off my discomfort, suddenly tense.
I was getting my dick wet more often than any of them knew, I just couldn’t brag about it openly like they could.
I had to admit, it had been some time since I’d picked up a girl and I’d foolishly believed it had gone unnoticed by my mates, but apparently I wasn’t doing as good a job of flying beneath the radar as I’d thought. Fuck.
“Aye, well, y’try landin’ a wee piece when y’best mate looks like that,” I replied, jerking my chin towards Declan. “Girls’d be trippin’ over themselves t’ get under him, feckin’ jammy shite he is.”