Authors: Dahlia Donovan
Tags: #British fiction, #English, #Cornwall, #comedy, #sport, #rugby, #gau and lesbian, #m/m, #sweet, #Gay, #romance
With a surprisingly gentle touch, Caddock began to massage Francis's scalp. He wilted into his pillow. Those last few lingering aches from his migraine dissipated with each passing second.
"Rupert said you paid him a visit."
"Did he?" Francis closed his eyes; feigning sleep seemed a good way to go.
"He did. He wouldn't tell me why, claimed it was about a new client." Caddock lifted his hands away then tapped Francis on the nose until he opened his eyes. "The thing is, Joanne told me Rupert had a slow week with no new clients. What are you two up to?"
"We're trying to figure out a way to convince you and Joanne to agree to a wild orgy." Francis impressed himself with his own ability to maintain a straight face. He didn't even crack a smile. "They are a rather attractive couple."
Caddock's eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "An orgy? You?"
He mock glared. "Are you calling me a prude?"
"Not a prude. But you do blush if I so much as grab your arse in sight of anyone. How do you plan on having an orgy?" Caddock asked dubiously. "Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. Rupert'll spill the beans to me eventually, probably over a pint or four."
Francis didn't bother disagreeing since he wasn't exactly wrong.
Time to play dirty.
"It's a surprise. Please don't ruin it."
Blue eyes met slightly pleading blue eyes. Francis refused to back down. He'd never planned something to this scale—curiosity would
not
be permitted to screw up all his work.
"Uncle Boo?" Devlin peeked around the door. He bounced into the room with Sherlock on his heels. They both climbed up onto the bed. "Can we have tea?"
"Did you invite yourself or did Mrs Keen invite us?" Caddock winked at Francis before turning a stern glaze on his nephew. "Well?"
"I invited you both. So how about you get out of my grandson's bed?" Gran waved a wooden spoon at the group. "Who wants scones?"
"
Me!
" Devlin leapt from the bed, almost catching his head on the nearby desk. He careened down the hall. "Scones, Uncle Boo, scones."
"Was he by chance the sprog of a jumping bean?" Francis found all the exuberant energy exhausting.
"Only a third." Caddock got to his feet then caught Francis when he stumbled, his legs caught by the quilt. "C'mon, Fwannie, I could eat a horse."
"You are only half as funny as you think you are."
Chapter Thirty-One
Caddock
When Joanne had mentioned Rupert and Francis had been holed up in his office for a while, Caddock had figured the two were plotting something. He hadn't bothered about it much. It would all come out eventually, after all.
And it had.
He had been well and truly surprised. Francis had convinced him they were about to have a simple picnic at the stadium. Seeing every player he'd ever worked with on the pitch had blown him away.
Now, standing beside the national team manager who was handing him a bizarrely sculpted statue that honoured his professional achievements, Caddock found himself more emotional than anticipated. He blinked back tears. It touched him to realise he hadn't been forgotten.
While everyone gathered around tables filled with tiny bites of food, Rupert pulled him aside to explain how Francis had worked his slender fingers to the bone to make sure it all went without a hitch. It had been his idea from the start. And everything had been done to make the day special for him.
As the others began to run mock games with each other and their kids who'd attended, Caddock worked his way through the crowd. He found his cub in the middle of a conversation with one of his old training coaches. And not one he particularly liked.
It reminded him of a promise he'd once made. The assistant trainer had an overly swanky office at the stadium. He had a smarmy attitude to go with it. They had butted heads almost constantly.
The man had gone out of his way to screw Caddock over so often, he'd always wanted to return the favour. Francis would look wonderfully decadent bent over the man's desk. It seemed he'd finally gotten his chance.
"Someone is thinking naughty thoughts." Francis watched him apprehensively out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't said anything earlier when Caddock grabbed him to lead him away from pitch. "What are you up to? I can almost hear the deviant wheels turning in your mind. We're not going to get arrested, are we? My gran's here, so are you parents."
Caddock kept firm hands on Francis's shoulders, guiding him down the familiar tunnel that led to a row of doors. "I thought you deserved a physical demonstration of my gratitude for all you did for me today."
"You're using big words. Should I be afraid now?" He glanced over his shoulder with a cheeky smile. "Are we going to create a scandal on your special day? I'm sure the tabloid reporters would love it."
For all the teasing, Caddock could feel the shoulders under his fingers tensing. He massaged them gently. It would be a fun-filled afternoon, but he'd never risk exposing Francis at all.
Doors had locks.
Knowing time would be of the essence, Caddock sped up the pace. They finally found the right door. He snuck inside with Francis then immediately secured the door behind them.
"What are we doing?"
Caddock leaned against the door for a moment, simply watching Francis grow ever more uneasy under scrutiny. He loved the bow ties the man wore. It always made him want to yank it off, use it to keep him quiet or bind his hands. He'd never imagined a single strip of fabric could bring such lurid fantasies out of him.
His patience came to an end. Two steps and they were toe to toe. Francis stumbled back in surprise against the desk when his bow tie was ripped off his body.
"Not my colour?"
"On the contrary." Caddock caught him by the wrists and bound them behind his back. He paused, maintaining eye contact. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll release you immediately."
"The only uncomfortable part of me happens to be the tight restriction of my trousers." Francis bucked forward against the thigh Caddock pushed between his legs. "Why this office?"
"Revenge."
They didn't have time for words. Or finesse. Trousers and pants were shoved down to their ankles faster than he thought possible. Caddock spun Francis around after one hard kiss. He pressed him gently on top of the desk, pausing to take in the view he made.
He encountered the shock of his life a moment later. "Are you…?"
"Wearing one of those plugs you thought I hadn't noticed in your closet?"
"Bloody hell. Have you been wearing it all day?" Caddock tapped his finger against the plastic base, causing Francis to let out a loud moan. "Been holding that one in have you? How on earth have you had this in and I didn't notice? And you call me a kinky bastard."
"You are one." Francis craned his neck to peer back at him. "Had a feeling you'd want to do something like this. I thought being—"
"Lubed and loosened?"
Francis dropped his head forward to the desk. "Must you be so blunt?"
"Yes."
He worked the toy in and out several times, wanting Francis to be right on the edge. His eyes strayed to the clock on the wall. They had maybe fifteen minutes before their absence became painfully obvious.
Voices in the hall had him quieting Francis with his hand over his mouth. Caddock continued teasing him though. He found nothing quite like the adrenaline rush from
almost
being discovered to add head to the moment.
Removing the well-lubed toy, Caddock wrapped it in a handkerchief and stowed it in his jacket pocket. It wouldn't be wise to accidentally leave it somewhere. He dipped his fingers into Francis once or twice, prolonging his own enjoyment, and then grabbed a condom from one of the pockets of his trousers.
He sensed Francis growing closer to his completion. "Are you ready, cub? Ready for me?"
Keeping an ear listening for any chatter in the hall, Caddock gripped Francis firmly by the waist and guided him back. He bent forward to bite and suck on a spot on his back to silence his own groans. Nothing felt more brilliant than thrusting into his Francis.
Absolutely fucking brilliant.
Reaching around to take a hold of Francis, Caddock stroked him in time with his movements. The slight tightening around him sent little shockwaves of pleasure through him. Francis had clearly been on the edge for hours. It took next to no time for him find his glimpse of heaven.
The man clenched around him like a damn vise. Caddock gritted his teeth to keep from shouting. His orgasm was wrung from him sooner than he would've liked.
He slowly lifted himself off Francis. "We can sneak to the loo to clean up. It's a few doors down."
Francis held up a rather moist sheet of paper. "I appear to have ruined the roster for next week."
Caddock blinked at him several times then threw his head back to roar with laughter. "I'm tempted to tell you to leave it for the bastard to find, but he might have coppers do a forensic test. C'mon, we'll toss it in a rubbish bin with my condom."
"Lovely."
A quick wash-up in the club showers and the two looked good as new. Slightly rumpled, but nothing anyone should notice. Caddock grinned smugly at Francis, who rolled his eyes in response.
"You didn't." Rupert stopped them at the end of the tunnel on their way back to join the party. "You didn't. You did. You randy buggers."
"Me? I'm sure a prude like myself has no idea what you're on about." Francis stared blankly at him, though his flushed neck gave him away. "You do have the most
vivid
imagination."
Rupert reached out with a napkin to pointedly wipe one of Francis's jacket sleeves. "Might want to check yourself in the mirror next time."
Francis covered his face with his hands. "Anyone mind if I die here?"
"I do." Caddock elbowed Rupert hard in the side. "Go bother your wife. Leave my Francis alone."
"I'm never going out again." Francis refused to lift his head from his hands.
Caddock laughed at Francis's obvious embarrassment. He pulled him into his arms. "Thank you. Not sure where my life would be without you. Dull and empty, I'm sure."
Epilogue
Francis
Two Years Later
"Get your arse to the pub. All hell broke loose."
Francis had been in the middle of working on the restoration of a nineteenth-century china cabinet. He'd found it on a farm a few villages over. It needed a bit of love and would look good as new; maybe not new, but close enough to sell for four times what he'd paid for it.
The panicked call from the chef at the pub sent him racing for the door. Francis had been on the man's call list for a year now. Caddock tended to pretend his mobile didn't exist much of the time.
They'd been living together for the last six months. Francis had been hesitant at first. He'd thought a year and a half might be too soon in a relationship. But one of his gran's friends had come to stay, and they were a bit much for him.
Devlin greatly enjoyed having his Francis and his Sherlock at the cottage. The seven-year-old had grown like a weed. He had readily accepted the two men as a couple, and his enthusiasm had helped smooth the edges with his grandfather.
The family regularly got together without so much as a raised eyebrow. Francis found himself amazed at the difference two years had made in his life. His design business had moved into antique restoration. It was more satisfying and financially rewarding.
Francis pulled Watson up outside the pub, rushing in with Sherlock close behind. He stopped dead centre in the middle of the room when he realized Caddock was kneeling in front of him. Their friends and family had gathered around them in a semicircle.
"What…?"
"Father Williams tells me it's all legal." Caddock stayed on one knee. He retrieved a black box from his front pocket, opening it to reveal a single platinum band with a dark blue line running through the centre. "Will you marry me?"
"Pardon?"
Caddock caught him by the hand to drag him closer when Francis froze in place. He slid the ring on his finger. "I know your brilliant mind will catch up sooner or later. Shall I assume the answer is yes?"
"You presumptuous prat." He sternly told himself that blubbering in front of everyone would be humiliating. He blinked rapidly before finally glancing away from the ring on his finger to the man on his knees. "You could've waited for my yes."
"True." He got to his feet with a pained grimace. His old injury had been flaring up recently. "I thought I'd speed things along a bit for everyone's benefit."
A cheer went up around the gathered crowd. Francis found himself hugged and kissed by everyone. His grandmother had tears in her eyes—happy tears, she promised. She immediately wandered over to begin a discussion with Ruth and Caddock's mother, likely about wedding plans.
Francis barely restrained a shiver at the insanity that would likely develop. Maybe they should elope? He'd talk to Caddock about it later.
"Are you happy?"
Francis lifted his eyes from his engagement ring. He'd been staring at it for a good ten minutes. He found Caddock's father before him. "I am. I love your son. I believe we have every chance of being quite happily married."
Arthur Stanford nodded solemnly at him. "He's a good man. I worried about him. He never settled like Hadrian. My Hadrian. He could've been a carbon copy of me. I've never understood Caddock. But I love him. I wanted him to find happiness."
"Most fathers want their children to be happy." Francis wondered apprehensively where this conversation was going. He spun the ring on his finger absently. "Are you concerned he won't be?"
Arthur broke into a broad smile, reminding Francis of a picture he'd seen of Hadrian. "Not at all. I wanted to wish you congratulations. And to thank you for bringing my son such joy. He struggled after his injury. You helped prod him into returning to himself. Welcome to our family."