Chapter Four #2
There was a long, tense silence as John-Francis wrestled with himself. When I felt his grip on me soften, I had my answer. Disappointment washed over me, and yet I grinned, peeling John-Francis off me.
“I’d be seein’ ya, eh?” I called to him, digging my hands into my pockets as I wandered away into the dark, heading home.
I was buzzing with desire, every fibre of my being alive, but I relished in knowing my wee friend was just as desperate for it as I was.
I wondered how long he would be able to hold off from giving in to me.
After the fair was over, there was a real likelihood that John-Francis and I might never see one another again.
Would he be willing to walk away never having explored whatever this was between us?
I guessed I’d be finding out soon enough.
I couldn’t remember getting to my bed and when I woke the next day it was with a thick head, a dry mouth, and a raging hard-on.
That was not a good mix. I cracked an eye open, surprised to find I was alone, though I could hear Darragh and Ma talking just outside thanks to a cracked window.
I lay in my bed, listening in on them chatting about the fair and the party, but when the scent of bacon frying drifted beneath my nose, I dragged myself up.
“Ah, is it not yourself?” Ma called out to me, flipping bacon in a pan over an open fire. “Y’in bits or y’fancy a wee roll, now?”
I dropped down from the caravan, sitting down heavily in the chair beside Darragh. “Aye, I’d be starvin’, like.”
Topless, I tilted my face up into the bright sunshine, already warming up ahead of another hot and humid summer day. I closed my eyes, basking in it for a moment.
“‘Ey.” Darragh hit me in the arm, drawing my attention. “Didn’t hear ya get in last night. Y’have a good one, aye? Thought ya’d said ya were comin’ back to the caravan when ya left the party.”
“Aye, I did f’a bit,” I replied, hesitating as I wondered just how much to reveal to him. “I’d got ta chattin’ to a craic’er fella stayin’ a few doors over, like. Had a few tinnies at his gaff an’ then came back over.”
“Anyone we’d know, like?” Ma said over her shoulder.
I shrugged. “Nah, I’d never met him before. Said he comes down most years f’the fair though, so y’might know his ma or somethin’.”
“Ah, ya’ll have ta introduce us, now. Might well know his family or somethin’.”
Ma served us up breakfast rolls and I was glad to let the subject of John-Francis drop.
I chatted with Darragh about our plans for the day, both eager to check out some more of the wee horses.
Ma had arranged to meet up with an old mate of hers at the pub which at least got her off our backs.
I wondered what John-Francis was going to be up to today.
No doubt he’d be heading for the fair as well, and I couldn’t deny the chance we might run into one another was something I was looking forward to.
When I headed for the shower block a short while later, I tried to sneak a glimpse at John-Francis’s place. It was quiet, locked up tight with no signs of life. Was he still in his bed or had I missed him leaving, bright and early, for another day of revelry at the fair?
I shrugged it off, flicking my towel over my shoulder as I muscled my way inside the dank, tiled room.
A group of younger wee lads were larking about, whipping one another with their damp towels as they eagerly got themselves dressed after a shower.
They couldn’t have been more than nine or ten years old, but as I threw my shite down on one of the benches, they quietened down.
“‘Ey, nice ink, like,” one of them said to me.
“Thanks, fellas,” I muttered in response. Still shirtless, the true extent of my tattoos was fully visible. There wasn’t much left of my upper body that wasn’t inked, that was true enough and I was used to them garnering me attention whenever they were on show.
I was just unfastening my jeans when the group of lads made their way back outside, laughing and joking around amongst themselves. It was only as one of them said: “sorry, mister. We’d be gettin’ outta ya way” that I realised I wasn’t alone.
John-Francis’s eyes were on me immediately, though he waited until the door closed before speaking.
“Mornin’.”
I couldn’t fight a smile, narrowing my eyes playfully. “Y’followin’ me or what?”
John-Francis laughed, draping his own towel around his neck before holding up his hands. “Swear ta ya, just a happy wee coincidence, like.” When his eyes dropped to my chest, my skin prickled. “Can’t be sayin’ I’m disappointed ta run inta y’here though, eh?”
I shook my head, turning back to bundling my clothes up into a pile and pretending like I wasn’t acutely aware of John-Francis as he stalked closer, throwing his belongings down on the bench in front of me.
I fannied around, deliberately taking my time, eager to hang around as John-Francis began to peel his own clothes off.
It occurred to me that I’d never seen him unclothed.
Sure, I knew what he was sporting below the belt, but I hadn’t seen his bare chest, hip bones, thighs…
Jaysus, that was a dangerous train of thought.
When he whipped his t-shirt off over his head, I was helpless but to scour my gaze over him.
Fuck, he was a fine thing – tall and muscular but in a way that spoke of natural strength, rather than a wee gym rat like me.
He was a little softer around the middle, but in no way overweight, with the shadow of his abs lingering beneath the surface.
Despite keeping my own physique trim, building and defining muscles in a deliberate fashion, I didn’t require a partner to do the same.
It didn’t matter to me that John-Francis wasn’t ripped – he looked strong enough to overpower me if he wanted to and that got my heart pumping.
“Ah, y’got a few there yourself, now,” I muttered, gesturing to the tattoo on John-Francis’s bicep, noting that it actually curled around onto one of his pecs.
“Aye, nothin’ crazy, like,” he replied, twisting his arm around as he looked down at the markings. The way his pectoral muscle bulged made me want to sink my teeth into it, but I made do with the inside of my cheek instead.
There was a moment of intense silence as we each took our time to survey one another.
“Y’got any more on ya?”
John-Francis’s question was a blatant request and I smirked.
“One or two, aye.” I grasped the waist of my jeans, tugging them down to reveal the large tattoo on the top of my left thigh, yet John-Francis’s attention was fixed a little north of there and I felt my cock pulse, blood rushing to it in response.
“That’s nice,” John-Francis murmured, clearly not talking about my tattoo and I laughed, quickly distracting myself by stepping out of my jeans and throwing them onto the bench.
To my delight, John-Francis did the same. He had no more tattoos on him, but I wasn’t sure I’d even have noticed them anyway. He was excited, his cock already firm beneath the thin material of his boxers.
Fuck, this was risky. Anyone could walk right in.
I turned my back on John-Francis before peeling off my boxers.
I chucked them onto the bench before casting him a grin over my shoulder and sauntering off towards the showers.
They were individual cubicles with curtains, and I was equally torn between being disappointed and relieved I wouldn’t have to watch John-Francis soaping himself.
I leant in around the curtain to turn the shower on, the faucet squeaking loudly before ice cold water sprayed from overhead.
I deliberately didn’t turn the temperature up, deciding a cold shower was definitely on the cards.
I slipped behind the curtain before John-Francis had a chance to catch up to me, and it was just as well.
The door to the toilet block flew open, unfamiliar voices ricocheting around the room as at least two or three other fellas joined us.
I dared not think about what would have happened if they’d been thirty seconds earlier.
Trying to put John-Francis out of my mind, I got to showering. The cold water did a fantastic job of killing the lingering arousal and spurred me into action, keen to get clean and out from under the baltic spray as quickly as possible.
With my towel wrapped around my hips, I was relieved that I’d beaten John-Francis back to the changing room and I was fully dressed by the time he returned.
We weren’t alone anymore, though the fellas who had joined us were in their own showers now, chatting loudly about the fair and folks I didn’t know by name.
I didn’t say a word but let John-Francis catch me eyeing him once more before turning away and gathering up my towel.
“Y’got plans f’the day?”
I stilled, taken by surprise. I glanced up at him, a smile working its way onto my face.
“Nah, nothin’ special, like. Darragh and I’d be headin’ t’ the fair. What ‘bout yourself?”
“I’d be on me own today, now. Declan has planned t’ meet up wi’ the wee settled girl he landed last night, so not expectin’ ta see much o’ him,” John-Francis replied, running his hands through his wet hair in a way that made my pulse quicken.
I wanted to invite him to join me and Darragh, and yet the words died in my throat.
I knew my cousin wouldn’t be bothered about John-Francis tagging along – I got the feeling they’d get on well – but I wanted to force him to ask me.
Just like when I’d thrown down my conditions last night, I wasn’t about to be budging on this neither.
“A’right, well, y’have a good day, aye?” I said, taking my time gathering up my belongings before strolling to the door. I held my breath.
C’mon, y’wee handsome fecker. Ask me. Y’know y’want ta, and feck I want ya ta as well.
“‘Ey, Ronan?”
I resisted a grin, pausing to look back at John-Francis. The other man scratched the back of his head.
“Y’think it’d be a’right f’me ta tag along wi’ ya, like?”