The Hurricane

by R. J. Prescott

  “Did Danny say it was okay for me to come?” I asked him worriedly. I didn’t want to watch the fight, but after yesterday, I didn’t think that I could just sit at home waiting, either.

  “Don’t you worry about Danny,” he told me.

  He didn’t really answer my question, but I trusted that he’d square it with Danny. We made it to my building and stopped.

  “Can I stay here tonight?” he asked sheepishly, as though he thought I’d say no. I assumed that he’d be going back to Kieran’s to sleep, so I was surprised that he asked. I couldn’t help but be excited at the thought of spending another night with him, but I knew it wasn’t fair to lead him on.

  “Just as friends,” I reminded him, and he grinned doing some weird version of the scouts honour sign.

  “Just as friends,” he agreed.

  “I have to get up for class tomorrow, though. Won’t I disturb you?” I was reluctant to drive him away, but I also didn’t want to ruin his last decent rest before the fight.

  “Sunshine, I’m going to be awake at the crack of dawn tomorrow. That’s if I get any sleep at all,” he explained, as we climbed the stairs to my apartment.

  “Do you always get nervous before a fight?” I asked curiously, surprised when he scoffed.

  “I’ve never been nervous before. I usually just drink a bit less before a fight, crash, and then wake up and beat the shit out of someone.”

  “Then why are you nervous now?” He shrugged his shoulders as we walked into my apartment.

  “It’s different this time,” he finally answered. “Danny’s invested a lot of time in me, and I’m worried about letting him down. I’ve given up my job, so without this, I have no income. If I fuck up tomorrow, I could lose my chance at sponsorship and...,” he trailed off, like he didn’t want to carry on.

  “...and what?” I pressed.

  “I promised you that I’d make something of myself. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

  He gestured between us, and for the first time since I’d known him, he didn’t look cocky. He looked absolutely terrified. There was no way that he could go in the ring like this; he’d be crushed. All of that training turned his body into a machine, but without his head in the right place, I knew he’d get hurt. And that thought made my insides cramp up. He sat down dejectedly on my bed, but I stood in front of him until he looked up at me.

  “Whenever you’ve lost before, has Danny ever refused to train you?”

  He frowned as he contemplated my question.

  “No, but I’ve never lost a fight before.”

  “What, never?” I asked, shocked.

  He shook his head. “When we were kids, he used to let the older kids whale on us a bit to toughen us up. But as far as fighting in matches, then no, I’ve never lost.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course, he’d never lost a fight.

  “Okay,” I sighed, “but you’ve known Danny nearly your whole life. Do you think he’d give up on you, or any of his boys, if he knew that you tried your best?”

  “No, I guess not,” he replied, honestly.

  “There’s no guarantee that you would be picked up by sponsors even if you win, and if they’re going to be at tomorrow’s fight, then they’ll be at other fights. Even if you don’t make it, fighting isn’t your only option, you know. I’m sure that Kieran could get you another construction job, and if that doesn’t make you happy, at least it will give you an income. You could always do some night classes while you decide what else you want to do.”

  He sighed. “I’m no good at book learning stuff. I don’t have any qualifications.”

  “Don’t be afraid of something different. If you need to go back to school to be who you want to be then I’ll help you.”

  He put his hands around my waist and pulled me toward him as he leant his head against my stomach. Doing what I had wanted to do to his messy, dishevelled spikes since I’d known him, I ran my fingers soothingly through his hair, and he groaned.

  “And if I fuck this up between us?” he asked.

  “I can’t think of anything you could do that would make me want to call time to our friendship. But you and I have absolutely nothing to do with what goes on in that ring tomorrow. There’s just him and you and nothing else outside of that, okay? You’re in a good place. If nothing else, think about the fact that he’s trying to take that away from you, and you know what you said you’d do if anyone tried that, right?”

  He lifted his head to look at me, and grinned. “I’ll decimate them.”

  I smiled, pleased that he was in the right frame of mind to fight again. I leaned down slightly and kissed the top of his head, though I didn’t have to lean far. Even sitting down he was almost as tall as I was. Letting him go, I took off my coat and went to hang it on the back of the door.

  “You kissed me,” O’Connell called after me. “Friends don’t kiss.”

  “I’m reliably informed that’s not the case. Kieran and I kiss all the time,” I called back deadpan.

  “You’re fucking kidding me.” He frowned, looking perfectly ready to get in the ring and go a few rounds. I leaned back and smiled at him to let him know that I was joking.

  “Oh, baby. You’re in so much trouble if you’re gonna start using all my lines.”

  I giggled when he looked like he was going to come after me.

  “Please...,” I begged, “I’m starving.”

  He relented at that, and I knew he’d never let me go hungry.

  “You get a free pass for now, but any more winding me up about Kieran, and I plan on finding out how many parts of that gorgeous body of yours are ticklish.” A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of his hands all over me, but then my stomach growled and ruined the moment.

  “Behave,” I warned. “Besides, if you’re nice to me, I might have a present for you.”

  At the look of pure shock on his face, I’d almost be willing to bet that he’d never been given a present before.

  “BABY, IT’S FUCKING FREEZING in here,” O’Connell shouted to me, as I was having a shower. As much as we’d wanted to splurge on takeaway, O’Connell had to stock up on carbohydrates before a fight, so he’d offered to cook us up some pasta while I showered and changed into my pyjamas. He said it with his eyes firmly planted on my tits, so I was guessing he hoped that I would change into his favourite boy short pyjamas.

  “I’ve turned the heating on. If it’s not working, try giving the radiator a bang,” I called back.

  I was rinsing the conditioner out of my hair and relishing the piping hot water, when I heard his voice next to my ear.

  “What was that, baby?” he asked and I screamed, trying to cover up as much as I could with my hands despite being behind an opaque shower screen.

  “What are you doing in here? Get out!” I ordered, and he only chuckled.

  “Relax, baby. I just couldn’t hear what you said,” he replied, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

  “I said, bang the radiator to get it going. Now, GET OUT!” I ordered.

  “I’m not sure,” he teased, “this is the warmest room in the apartment. Surely, you wouldn’t let me freeze out there when it’s so warm in here. It’s not like I can see anything.”

  No one had ever seen me naked before and there was no way that this cheeky fucker was getting an invitation. It didn’t surprise me that he walked around like he owned the place. He appeared to be railroading my decision that we remain friends and part of that was stomping around my place and sharing my bathroom, like I suspected a boyfriend might. I rushed through the rest of my shower, not enjoying it anymore now that I was worried about him coming in again and embarrassing me. I towel dried my crazy mop of hair as best I could then changed into my favourite pyjamas, which, fortunately, covered most of my body. The flat did seem cold as I walked out of the steam-filled bathroom.

  “I can’t believe you did that!” I complained, as I hunted around for one of O’Connell’s hoodies. He stood right in front of me
and rested both hands on the desk behind me, trapping me against his body. He dipped his head to the crook of my neck and inhaled as he smelt my newly washed hair.

  “What are you embarrassed about, baby?” he murmured. His warm breath against my neck sent heat straight through my body, making me achy and wet. As though he knew exactly how I felt, he pressed his rock hardness against me, which only made the ache worse. When he ground his pelvis, I moaned, and he captured my bottom lip between his teeth and nipped it. He ran his tongue over the bite to relieve the sting and ground against me again. I gripped his t-shirt in my hands, not sure if I was pulling him toward me or pushing him away. Letting go of the desk, he reached back and pulled his t-shirt over his head so that my hands were left resting on rock hard perfection. The sensation of feeling his cock pressed against my core, combined with unbelievably soft skin over steel abs beneath my fingertips, made me even wetter. When I moved against him, he hissed and pulled away from our kiss.

  “Fuck, baby,” he muttered breathlessly. “Even in those God awful pyjamas, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I just want you to be more confident in your own body, okay?”

  I nodded, though I didn’t think that I’d ever be comfortable with him looking over my naked body. Wanting to end the exquisite torture building inside me, I pulled his head toward me for more. Our kiss became almost violent, as he lifted me effortlessly to wrap my legs around his waist and carried me to bed. Laying us down, I cried out in delicious agony as his weight pressing against me had me arching off the bed. I was struggling to remember why I should be panicking about now, or maybe taking this a bit slower. This was O’Connell, and I was safe. He was making me feel amazing. So, how could it be anything but normal, to not want this to end? The first fluttering of panic only set in when his fingertips crept down inside my pyjama bottoms.

  “What are you doing?” I whimpered.

  “Trust me, sunshine.” He grinned against my lips. “I’ve got this.”

  His huge fingertips brushed gently against my folds, and I almost came off the bed. O’Connell was a genius to take things as slow as he did. Any quicker and my panic would have ruined it. After that one touch, he lightly ran his calloused fingertips over the tops of my thighs and around the elastic of my pyjamas, anywhere but where I actually needed his touch. All the while, we kissed as though we were devouring each other, and the need grew worse with every stroke. He was as hard as a rock against my leg, but I could barely think about anything but what he was doing to me.

  “Please, O’Connell,” I begged.

  “What do you need, baby?” He smiled knowingly.

  “Touch me again.”

  His looked triumphant as he brushed against me gently with his thumb.

  “Ahh,” I cried out, arching my back and gripping the sheets as I tried to process what he was doing. This time I’d given him permission. Hell, I’d begged him to keep going, and he didn’t disappoint. He stroked rhythmically, and I was torn between wanting to pull away from the overwhelming sensations and pleading with him never to stop. My nipples, hard as buds against his chest, sent darts of pleasure below as they brushed against him.

  “I can’t. I can’t...,” I whimpered.

  “Let go, baby,” O’Connell whispered. “I’ll catch you.”

  My spine was a rod of steel and bright blinding stars burst across the back of my eyelids as I came. It was the most amazingly wonderful thing that I had ever experienced, and I wanted to cry out at the sheer joy of it.

  O’Connell looked at me lovingly. I held his jaw reverently in one hand.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to him. “That was so much more than I ever imagined it would be.”

  He smiled brightly, and it was like the sun coming out.

  “As long as I live, I will never forget how beautiful you look right now.”

  He cuddled me into his side, but his hard cock wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

  “O’Connell?” I paused, not knowing how to say this without sounding like an idiot. “Can I do the same for you?”

  I was mortified. Not so much at the thought of doing it. The idea of stroking him in my hand was enough to make me wet all over again. I was embarrassed, because I sounded so naively clueless. Any girl my age with a pinch of sexual confidence wouldn’t have asked permission, they would have just known exactly what to do. He didn’t answer me so I risked a glance up at him. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was in pain.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked concerned.

  “I’m trying not to come in my pants,” he answered.

  I was confused about why he wasn’t jumping on me for my help when I’d offered. When he seemed a bit more in control, he explained.

  “I promised Danny no sex before the fight. It’s a golden rule for most of the boys. The banked up sexual frustration helps with the production of testosterone.”

  We were both quiet as we wrestled with his promise.

  “Fuck!” O’Connell cursed. “I can’t believe I just gave up a hand job from you for some miserable, skinny, angry old leprechaun.”

  “That angry old leprechaun only has your best interests at heart. Besides, I’m not going anywhere. Consider the invitation your reward if you win your fight tomorrow.”

  He closed his eyes again.

  “What are you doing now?” I asked.

  “Trying again to focus on not coming.”

  AN HOUR LATER, we reheated our pasta and sat cross-legged on my bed enjoying it. My cold, shitty little apartment now felt warm and cosy, and I was so happy that I could burst. O’Connell had beaten the crap out of the radiator until frostbite was no longer a real threat. He’d lit a ton of candles, ostensibly because we needed all the heat that we could get, but it made the place seem more romantic than it looked in the harsh light of day. O’Connell, shirtless and sat on my bed, was absolutely drool worthy, even if he was practically inhaling his meal. As soon as he’d finished, he put the bowl to one side, and in a way that reminded me of a small child, he asked me what had been on his mind.

  “Can I have my present now?”

  I smiled as I always did when he sounded like a little boy.

  “No. You’ll have to wait until I’ve finished my dinner,” I admonished.

  “That’s not fair,” he whined comically, and if he’d been standing, I was sure he would have stomped his foot.

  “You eat so slowly, we’ll be here for months!” He gave an over exaggerated sigh when he could see that I wasn’t going to relent.

  “Are you going to eat any more?” he asked after a while. I looked down at the mountain of food that he’d dished up for me, which would be about two of my usual servings. I shook my head no and steadied myself as he bounced off the bed to clear the plates. He washed up the dishes as I dried, then turning off the heating, he climbed into bed beside me. It was all so domestic, and I loved it. I turned on my side to face him, and he did the same.

  “Do you want your present now?” I asked.

  “Do you want to give it to me?” he answered with a smirk.

  “On second thought, it can wait until after your fight,” I told him with a straight face, calling his bluff.

  “What! No! I didn’t mean it. Please, can I have it now?” I laughed because he really was just too cute.

  “It’s not very big. Just a token gift,” I warned him, worried that I’d built this up into too big of a deal, or that he might not like it after all.

  “I don’t care. I haven’t had a present in years.”

  “What about your birthday?”

  “Danny gives me a week off subs, and the boys buy me a pint,” he explained.

  “That’s awful!” I exclaimed, horrified.

  “We’re blokes.” He laughed. “What did you expect us to do?”

  “What about your mum?” I asked.

  “I don’t remember the last time she bought me anything. But, then, coming home to a night when she hadn’t passe
d out in a pool of her own puke was gift enough.”

  I reached into the drawer of my bedside table and pulled out a box wrapped in brown paper and string. I placed it on the bed in front of him.

  “Sorry. They were all out of ‘Good luck with your big fight’ wrapping paper at the shop.”

  He didn’t say anything, which was completely out of character. There were no quips or cocky comebacks. He just stared at it. After a few minutes, he picked it up and pulled the bow on the string, then carefully opened the brown paper to reveal the jewellery box underneath. Still staring, he opened it up to find an intricately designed silver Celtic cross inside on a long silver chain.

  “Do you like it?” I asked worriedly. “I had Father Patrick bless it when we went to church.”

  He swallowed hard and when he looked up at me, his eyes were wet.

  “You bought this for me?” he asked, and I nodded.

  “Sunshine, you can’t afford this.”

  “I’m getting by better with the extra money that I get from Danny, and I did a few extra shifts last month when I finished out my rota.”

  He carried on just looking at it, and I started to get worried.

  You don’t have to wear it or anything. I just wanted to get you something to say good luck and to let you know that I’m behind you.”

  He launched himself off the bed and threw his arms around me, squeezing me hard.

  “I fucking love it. Thank you, baby,” he replied.

  I grinned, more than a little relieved.

  “Father Patrick told me that the ring symbolises God’s eternal love and that the four parts of the cross mean different things to different people, but in your case he thinks they represent mind, body, heart, and soul. Every one of those parts needs to be ready before you fight, but God will be with you in all of them.”

  “That sounds like something Father Pat would say. For me, it just reminds me of you.”

  “I like that, too,” I admitted.

  He stared at it some more before taking it out and handing it to me. I undid the clasp and secured it around his neck as I kissed him gently on the lips. He pulled me closer until I was straddling him then kissed me hard, touching his tongue against my own. Pulling away, he looked deep into my eyes and asked me to bear my soul.