After the Scrum (16 page)

His gran had been in to see him several times already during the getting-ready process. "Don't wear the plaid, love. You'll look twice your age in it." Francis didn't necessarily see looking older as a bad thing.

Only
his
gran would be worried about his looking too old.
Honestly.
Francis happened to be in the beginnings of a relationship with a man over ten years his senior. A youthful appearance didn't do
anything
for either of them.

On his fourth attempt to tie his bowtie, Francis threw it onto the dresser in sheer frustration. He hated how Caddock always had an effect on his nerves. Tying knots had never been an issue before, only when his brute was involved.

Caving to the inevitable, Francis found his gran knitting in front of the telly. She gave him a teasing smile before helping with his tie. She smoothed down his wild hair then sent him on his way, promising to keep an eye on Sherlock.

His beloved dog had a tendency to sneak out to track him down if Francis dared go anywhere without him. Not that he went many places without his sheltie. He'd followed him to a neighbouring village once when Francis had dared to go antiquing on his own. Gran would have to watch him like a hawk.

"You look lovely." She watched him brush dog hair from his "not the plaid dear" jacket. "He'll be staring at your bottom all evening in those tight trousers."

"
Gran.
" He blinked at her in horrified bewilderment. She always loved to keep him off balance with her occasionally bawdy sense of humour. "And I am
not
lovely."

"Yes, love, you are." She glanced over her shoulder then returned to her partially completed scarf—Ravenclaw colours for Devlin's favourite Hogwarts' house. "You tell him to come over with his little lad for tea tomorrow. I'll have this finished by then."

"Yes, Gran."

"I won't be waiting up, so if you come back, be sure to lock the gate behind you." She looked far too knowing for his liking, but experience told him to leave her to her laughter. "Enjoy yourself."

"Yes, Gran."

"Use protection."

"Yes…
Gran!
" His face flushed several shades of pink when her words registered. He gave her a quick hug before dashing out the door before she could say anything else. "Horrifying woman."

He was thankful for the jacket when the crisp sea breeze hit him. Caddock stood by his vehicle, leaning against it with a playful smile on his face. He casually perused Francis from head to toe without bothering to hide his blatant leer.

"Miss me?"

"I've seen you almost every day this week." Francis stepped forward into the broad arms that were held out to him. "Gran wants you to come for tea tomorrow with Devlin."

"Because the Devil needs more spoiling."

"She thinks so and she is
never
wrong." Francis found himself ushered into the vehicle after a trouser-tightening kiss. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." Caddock appeared to think on something quite seriously before continuing. "I might blindfold you to heighten the surprise."

"I am
not
a kinky man."

"No?" Caddock's hand rested heavily on Francis's thigh. "How do you know until we've tried it? There are so many flavours to experiment with. It would be a shame to wash your hands of it all before even dipping your toes in the water."

Deciding no comment would be better than stumbling over his own words, Francis turned stubbornly towards watching where they were headed. He'd expected to eat at one of the fancier restaurants in town, or perhaps at the cottage. Devlin was staying with Joanne and Rupert—he hadn't wanted to go to his grandparents.

It would take time to heal the rift with their grandson. Francis thought the apologies had gone a long way towards it, but Devlin appeared reticent to stay on his own with them, likely residual fear of being taken from his uncle. Children were remarkably resilient; he would likely be back to normal in no time.

It would be the adults who had the worst of it. Francis knew underneath it all, Caddock had yet to fully forgive his father. And as change rarely came easily, the man likely would struggle to truly let go of his previous discomfort so easily. Work would be required to keep the family together.

A sudden U-turn had them heading towards the sea, of all places. The weather wasn't the warmest on record. It was distinctly chilly, in fact. The particular road they were on led to a private little cove, beautiful in the day. He'd never been there during twilight hours.

They made a strange procession down towards the sea once they arrived. Caddock insisted on covering Francis's eyes with his hands. They shuffled in an awkward manner along the twisted, pebble-covered path.

After five minutes of stumbling, cursing, laughing, and then stumbling again, the two men made it down to the seashore relatively safely. Francis had a bruise on his hip from bumping into a large jagged rock. They continued chuckling at each other until Caddock finally lifted his hands away.

Francis found himself standing on the sands of Lantic Bay near a massive bonfire. Off to one side of it were two chairs, blankets, and a small hamper.

"It's only sandwiches and a thermos of tea." Caddock gestured towards the darkening sky. "You said you wanted to watch the meteor shower tonight. It's a clear night. We might freeze our bollocks off, but there you are."

"Oh." Francis had actually forgotten about the cosmic event. "Brilliant. How on earth did you remember something I briefly mentioned the day we met?"

"You were memorable. I'm fairly certain I can remember every damn bit of our conversation—pathetic really." He shrugged with a self-deprecating smile.

"Did you suddenly uncover a romantic bone underneath all the muscle?" Francis teased then tried to dodge Caddock's arm, which swung out towards him. He jumped when a large hand smacked him on his arse. His body responded with avid interest to the warm tingling left behind. He searched for something to distract from it. "What? Where are my roses? Actually, no poncey flowers for me, thanks. I'd take chocolate though. Where's my chocolate?"

"
Cub.
"

Francis pointedly ignored the way he reacted to the deep timbre in one single, innocent word. His partner didn't need any more of an ego boost. "Well? Is there a plan—aside from freezing our bollocks off?"

Caddock's eyes narrowed at yet another sudden shift in topic. His voice remained low and gravelly. "I
always
have a plan. Sandwiches and tea first, I think. You'll need your strength."

"I will?"

A gentle shove had him collapsing back into one of the chairs. Caddock draped a thick blanket over his lap. Seconds later, he held a steaming mug of tea along with his favourite sandwich—cheese and tomato with chive-flavoured butter.

Dragging the second seat closer, Caddock sat down with his long legs stretched out in the sand. They ate and sipped tea in relative silence, enjoying the sound of the water lapping at the shore, the whistling wind and crackling fire. It was a perfect date, even with the nippy weather.

As the sun finally disappeared, Francis's anticipation steadily grew. They had at least an hour before the spectacular dramatics in the sky would start. He had no doubts his lover had a few ideas on how to pass the time. Caddock could be incredibly inventive.

Incredibly. Inventive.

When the cups and plates had been returned to the hamper, Caddock knelt in front of him. His strong hands gripped Francis by the knees. His legs were slowly parted while thumbs teasingly caressed him through his trousers.

"Someone could see. The cove is a popular destination, after all….
Caddock.
Are you even listening to me?" Francis shivered when those fingers began to trail along the inseam of his trousers. He glared at the kneeling man. "This isn't exactly priv—"

A sharp flick against his inner thigh silenced him. Francis bit his bottom lip when the same hand brushed against his groin for the first time. He gave in to the touches, drifting off on a sea of heightened enjoyment.

Why fight it?

Saints above though, Francis hoped no one would decide to take a midnight stroll. He didn't want to be any more infamous than the tabloid had made him.
Oh, God.
How does he do that with one finger?

Or that?

"
Caddock.
" Francis couldn't help lifting his hips up when Caddock abruptly withdrew his hand—searching for the touches to continue. "If you stop now, I swear on Watson, I'll allow Sherlock to take a piss in Dr Evil."

"Naughty cub." He flicked Francis's inner thigh again. He seemed to find the sharp intakes of breath highly amusing. His hands rose higher and higher, closer to the hardening, overly interested part of Francis's anatomy. "And you said you weren't kinky."

Any attempt at response faded in a fog of pleasure. Caddock distracted him with a hard kiss and before Francis realized it, his trousers and pants were shoved down to his ankles. The blast of cold shocked him. He shivered at the chill before Caddock's warm breath wafted across him—causing shivers for a completely different reason.

The breath inched closer until the first lick teased him lightly. Tentative swipes of the tongue eventually became longer and more encompassing. Francis lost his ability to think rationally when he was swallowed whole.

Caddock hummed while he moved up and down, sending intense vibrations through Francis. He would've bucked wildly, but firm arms pressed down on the top of his thighs. He lost himself to desire while his hands gripped the blanket at his side.

The moment of blinding pleasure hit him fast and hard. By the time Francis could form a coherent thought, a thick, slick finger had inched its way into him. It twisted around inside.

The wind still whistled around them while the stars shone overhead. It was all too surreal. He couldn't believe he was half-starkers under a moonlit sky.

One finger became two almost too soon. It burned. Oh, how it burned sweetly. Francis shifted down in his seat, hoping to entice Caddock to do more.

"Please…." He wanted the fingers to be replaced by something better and larger. "Caddock. You teasing prat. Give me more. Are you trying to drive me to the edge of insanity?"

"Better be quiet, cub." Caddock scissored his fingers before thrusting them deeper. "We wouldn't want an audience. Or would you? What hidden desires can I drag out of you? How many wonderfully twisted fantasies are hidden behind those blue eyes?"

Francis valiantly tried to maintain some sort of composure, only to have a casual movement from Caddock dash away all his attempts. "Anything—just give me something."

And there went all those plans of playing hard to get. The talented mouth had been busy bringing Francis back to life. His fingers were incessant in their torment. How could they feel so brilliant, yet pale in comparison to the man himself, to what he truly longed for?

The fingers finally eased out of him. They spread and turned repeatedly all the way. He disliked the sudden emptiness. A soft flick to his already most sensitive spot sent shockwaves up his spine.

Bloody hell.

It shouldn't have felt as good as it did. And the second tap definitely shouldn't have turned him to a pile of mush. Francis wondered absently if he would die of too much pleasure on the beach with his trousers down.

It might make for an interesting obituary.

His mind blanked once again when something rather larger than a finger bumped against his entrance. Caddock put a condom on then slid all the way to his hilt in one smooth press. He bent over Francis until their lips hovered over one another.

"God. Fucking brilliant." Caddock hissed while shaking with the effort to hold himself still above the Francis. His tongue swiped at Francis's lips, darting in when they parted for him. "Did I say how fucking brilliant you feel?"

"Pun intended?"

"You cheeky cub." Caddock thrust hard then drew almost all the way out. "Fucking chair."

With a suspiciously practiced air, Caddock flourished out the blanket to drape over the sand before the fire. He carried Francis over to it, situating him on his back. Strong hands rested on either side of his body, and he took his time driving in once more.

Caddock brought a hand up to drag across the lithe chest underneath him. He paid great attention to any spot that made Francis move. "Just like that, cub. Move with me."

Not even the bitterly cold air could deter Francis's enjoyment at all. He found a perfect rhythm with Caddock above him. Their lips met, silencing both of their moans. It wouldn't be long—couldn't be.

"God, yes."

"Harder."

And then finally, the completion they'd both been chasing. They collapsed on their banks on the blanket, gasping for air. He found himself staring up at the brightly lit sky. The meteor shower had started.

"See? I took you to outer space." Caddock grunted when Francis dug his elbow into his side. "Was that really necessary?"

Chapter Twenty-Five

Francis

It had been a perfect night. They'd stayed up into the wee hours of the morning to watch the sun rise. They'd been damn near frozen as well—blankets and body heat only did so much.

The fire had dwindled almost to nothing by the time they started the short hike back up to the Range Rover. Francis found the trek much easier without hands covering his eyes. Caddock still managed to trip him up several times. He seemed far too amused by trying to flick his lover's arse.

Prat.

Since Caddock was in a rush to check in on Devlin, Francis asked him to drop him off. He didn't want to delay returning home much longer. Staying out all night had been enough; any further waiting would only incite his gran further. She was going to be insufferable as it was.

Francis stopped at his cottage
only
to pick up Sherlock. Gran's knowing looks were too much to handle at eight in the morning. He hadn't had tea yet. No amount of teasing could be dealt with without at least one cup.