“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?”
It may not have been a kiss, but I’d take any result I could get. I smiled at him, grabbing the handle to the door and yanking it open.
“Aye, f’sure. Y’know me place. Come by when ya ready, like.”
I exited out into the sunshine, squinting into the bright light. I made sure I was a safe distance away before allowing myself a wee stupid, goofy grin. Today was going to be a good day, that was for sure.
When I got back to the caravan, Ma and Darragh were both still sat outside, sunning themselves with eyes closed. Neither of them heard me approach and I kicked the leg of Darragh’s chair as I passed him.
“Holy feckin’ shite!” he gasped, flinching. “Whatcha playin’ at?!”
I laughed and lobbed my damp towel at my ma. Whilst she screeched a string of profanities at me, I hopped up the steps and put my shower caddy away. She was still muttering under her breath as she pegged out the towel onto the makeshift line she’d erected between a nearby tree and one of the windows. I took the opportunity to nick her seat, throwing myself down in it with a grin.
“Y’in a good mood f’someone who was in bed in bits and hour ago, like,” Darragh muttered.
“What’s there t’ be sour ‘bout? I’d be well-rested, full o’ bacon, suns out, guns out—” I flexed my bicep at Darragh, earning myself an exasperated chuckle.
“I’d be thinkin’ I preferred ya bein’ a wee grumpy bastard, aye,” he muttered, jerking away and rubbing his arm with a scowl when I punched him playfully.
