Chapter Six #2
“So, I’d been meanin’ ta ask ya,” John-Francis said, shoving his hands in his pockets as we walked beside one another. “If ya stayin’, what d’ya plan t’ do f’work, like?”
“Ah, Darragh and I’d be doin’ a wee bit o’ everythin’ over the years,” I replied. “Our latest is pickin’ up scrap ta weigh in, but we’d turn a hand at anythin’ ta earn a few pennies.”
“Anythin’?”
I caught John-Francis’s eye, knowing exactly what he was getting at. I smirked, scratching my head.
“Aye, well, we try ta keep it above board where we can, like.” I paused. “But I won’t lie, I’d done some things ya could consider as bein’ on the wrong side o’ the law, now.”
John-Francis laughed. “Haven’t we all? What’d ya be gettin’ up ta?”
“The usual, eh? Darragh went through a phase o’ dealin’ green, but it was more trouble than it was worth a lotta the time, now. Ma sometimes breeds wee dogs if we can find a decent bitch an’ stud.” I cleared my throat. “I’d, uh, I’d be pretty good wi’ jimmyin’ me way inta a car or two, like.”
“Cars? Ya a wee bad boy, eh?” John-Francis teased.
I simply frowned, treating him to a withering glare as my cheeks flushed. “I do a’right, now. What ‘bout yourself?”
“Declan an’ I have a wee landscapin’ gig, but I don’t mind tellin’ ya that we often find other ways ta bring in the money, ‘specially durin’ the winter, like.”
I nodded. “Anythin’ interestin’?”
“Ah, f’sure – mostly hittin’ up shops an’ resellin’, but Declan’s pretty handy in a fight, so we’ve done our fair share o’ roughin’ up fellas as well. Used ta be inta the drugs scene a wee while back, but like yourself, it was a lotta trouble, like.”
“Aye, wondered if ya were still in the game when ya’d given me that hit the night we met, now.”
John-Francis shook his head. “Nah, haven’t been f’some time. Seamus is ya fella f’all that ‘round here, like. He’d be holdin’ a wee variety if ya ever lookin’ ta buy.”
“It’s not f’me generally, aye.” I caught his eye. “Only when feckin’ rides like yourself be offerin’ it up, like.”
He didn’t reply, just grinned and playfully checked me with his shoulder. A gust of wind whipped around us, and we both glanced up into the sky.
“Looks like rain, aye?” John-Francis muttered.
“I’d be thinkin’ the same thing, now. Hope we can get back without gettin’ a soakin’.”
“Best get a move on. C’mon, fella.”
We missed the rain by minutes, diving inside John-Francis’s caravan just as the first, huge droplets began to fall.
I was on my back beneath John-Francis, pinned to his bed by yet another scorching kiss when the heavens opened.
The din against the metal roof was so loud it drowned everything out.
It was just me, John-Francis, and the rain.
Just as before, John-Francis kissed me like he’d die if he didn’t and I couldn’t get enough.
I’d never had such a passionate, all-consuming, utterly addictive kiss in all my life.
It may have been a bit rocky getting started, but if John-Francis’s kisses were always going to be like this?
Hell, it had been worth the wait. When his hand found my throat, I couldn’t help but smile, remembering how I’d teased him about it the night before.
“Laugh all y’want,” he muttered between kisses. “Y’love it an’ y’know y’do.”
I had to admit it felt better than I’d expected it to, having someone’s hand around your neck, and John-Francis was a master at being somehow simultaneously tender and domineering. He was right, I did love it and I groaned, letting him kiss me harder, holding me in place.
We ground our hips together, both of us desperate for more of one another. I could feel the bulge of John-Francis’s hard cock, even though his jeans and my hands flew to his flies, hurriedly unfastening them.
I hadn’t been expecting the violent buzz of vibration beneath my fingertips and I stilled.
“Sorry, phone,” John-Francis explained, releasing me to sit back on his haunches. He was pink and breathing hard as he dug his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone. He glanced at it briefly, his head falling back with a groan.
“What?” I asked, sitting up. “Somethin’ important?”
“Nah, but somethin’ I’d not be gettin’ outta. Declan wants me ta go pick him up from Penrith.”
“Just tell him ya busy, like.”
John-Francis shook his head. “Feckin’ langer is wi’ Seamus, who has helpfully told him I’d not be havin’ anythin’ better ta do tonight than be a feckin’ taxi f’em,” he grumbled, his thumbs flying over his phone screen.
I ran a hand through my hair, the red-hot arousal that had been building easing away. With John-Francis’s attention still fixed on his phone, I shuffled forward on my arse to the edge of the bed.
I startled as John-Francis’s hand flew out and shoved me roughly. I fell backwards, my weight bouncing on the mattress.
“Where’d y’think ya goin’, eh?” he asked, slipping the device back into his pocket.
“Sounds like ya got other plans f’ya evenin’,” I said, trying not to sound as disappointed as I knew I was. “Was just gonna get outta y’hair.”
“Nah.” John-Francis leant in over me to kiss me firmly. “Y’goin’ nowhere. Penrith is twenty minutes, tops. Y’gonna sit y’fine feckin’ arse on this bed until I get back.”
I laughed. “Y’serious?”
“Deadly, like.”
I looked at him for a moment, weighing up my options. Whilst I didn’t want him to go and didn’t want to hang about like a spare prick in his gaff neither, I also really wanted to spend the night with John-Francis again. I eventually rubbed the back of my neck with a heavy sigh.
“Fine. I’ll wait f’ya, but ya’d best be quick, aye?”
John-Francis smiled at me, making my stomach flip over. He leant in and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to my lips.
“Ya’d best be believin’ I’ll be racin’ ta get back here, like. Feckin’ desperate f’ya.” He grabbed my hand, pressing it against his crotch. His cock was still hard, and I felt my own stir in response.
“A’right,” I muttered, jerking my head to a small television mounted on the wall. “That workin’?”
John-Francis grabbed the remote from the side, throwing it to me. He grinned, shoving his hand down the front of his jeans to rearrange himself before pointing a finger at me.
“Stay put. I’d be right back ‘fore y’know it, now.”
I simply wriggled myself back up the bed, propping up the pillows behind my back and turning my attention to the television. The door slammed behind John-Francis as he left, and even over the roaring rain I could hear him swearing as he headed out into the wild weather.
As soon as I heard the rumble of his van’s engine disappear, I released a heavy sigh. My head flopped back against the pillows, and I stared at the screen vacantly, not really watching whatever garbage show I’d put on.
I had a rare moment of privacy here inside John-Francis’s caravan and though I told myself I should just stay on the bed and watch TV until he returned, my curiosity won out in the end.
I eased myself up off the bed and began opening drawers and cupboards.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking for exactly, but I was eager to learn more about my handsome companion.
There was nothing out of the ordinary. The kitchen was full of utensils, though I noted most of them were brand new and unused – someone wasn’t much of a cook, it seemed.
The wardrobe had a decent selection of outfits, some of which I’d already seen on John-Francis.
I dug through the hangers, pushing them aside as I surveyed the clothes.
It smelt like him in here and without thinking, I reached out and grabbed a handful of clothes before burying my nose in them.
As I nudged the clothes aside, a small tin caught my eye. It wasn’t hidden, and yet something about the way it had been tucked away down behind a shoebox made me curious. I knelt down and grabbed it, cautiously easing the lid off.
Inside was all sorts of trinkets and jewellery – women’s stuff.
It looked just like the stuff my ma wore, and I realised with a start that this must have belonged to John-Francis’s own ma.
Buried underneath, the glossy surface of a photograph caught my eye, and I carefully eased it out.
It was of a woman and a wain. There was no doubt that was John-Francis and his ma.
They looked so happy… it was a pity the way it had all turned out.
I placed everything back into the tin before returning it to where I found it.
My search continued and when I tugged open a drawer beside the bed, I wasn’t at all surprised to find a box of johnnies and lube.
I knew first-hand that those were in there, but as I dug deeper inside the draw, I found a baggie of what looked to be cocaine and several pills.
I ran my tongue over my teeth. I hadn’t seen John-Francis using again since that first night we’d met, but this gave me pause.
Did he have a wee bit more of a problem than I’d realised?
Recreational drug use was one thing, but a drug habit was quite another.
I dropped the bags back into the drawer, my eyes drawn to some other interesting items.
“The feck…” I muttered, snatching up a rolled-up plastic bag, tucked right down at the back of the drawer. I unfurled it, glancing inside with a laugh. “Jaysus, he’d be a real-life Mr Grey.”
I pulled out a studded leather harness and a pair of cuffs with a smirk.
Both were new with tags, I noticed and when I scooped up a receipt from the bottom of the bag, I frowned.
It was dated several years before. He’d bought these and never used them?
I wondered if he even remembered they were there.