“Y’gonna let me kiss ya? I don’t mind tellin’ ya, I’d be feelin’ a wee bit left out that the wee buffer girl was allowed ta an’ y’refused me the same, like.”
John-Francis didn’t answer me, instead dragged me in closer. His hands ran all over me, making me breathless as my heart pounded against my ribs. Fuck, I wanted him, but I was going to stand firm on this. Unless I was getting what I wanted, I wasn’t going to give in.
When I refused to cooperate with John-Francis’s groping, pushing his hands away, he lost his patience. With a low growl between clenched teeth that set me alight, his hand grasped me by my throat, pinning me against the caravan. With his fingers digging in beneath my jaw, he forced me to look up at him. I could feel his chest heaving against mine as we gazed at one another.
“C’mon,” he rasped, pressing his body against mine. “Y’know y’want it as bad as I do, now.”
“Aye,” I replied, breathless. I wet my lower lip with my tongue. “Y’gonna give me what I’m wantin’?”
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.
