Barging In

by Josephine Myles

  Just looking at Dan made him ache with a terrifying joy.

  A low growl interrupted his reverie, and Robin looked up to see a man restraining his German shepherd. Shit, he knew that dog. The owner raised his head, and Robin stifled a groan as he recognised the unwelcome features of Nigel Truman, landlord of the George. Nigel’s lips curled in a sneer as he walked past them, and Robin heard him mutter something about “fucking arse-bandits”.

  Dan didn’t seem to notice, still basking in the sun and smiling, but Robin’s mood was shattered. He couldn’t enjoy sitting like this any longer. He shifted, gently pushing at Dan’s shoulders.

  “Come on, we should get going and moor up somewhere before lunch.”

  Dan’s eyes sprang open. “I think I should stay inside for the next bit. Keep Morris company.”

  “Might be better on the river anyway. You need to keep your wits about you in fast-flowing water.” Robin felt Dan shudder against him. “You all right with this?”

  “It’s a proper boating holiday this way, isn’t it?” Dan gave a strained smile before heading over to the iron-rung ladder that led down to Serendipity, now nine feet below them.

  It was only after Robin had watched him inch his way back along the gunwales to the hatch that he realised Dan hadn’t actually answered the question.

  Robin frowned as he steered out into the Avon. Just what was eating Dan?

  Chapter Seventeen

  The river worked its charm, as always, and Robin revelled in the sensation of freedom. The water was wide, and the current pulled them along much faster than Serendipity’s engine could manage alone. You saw a different side of Bath from the river. None of your tourist spots here. Most of the old buildings in this part of the city had been razed in World War Two, meaning the waterside was a mixture of tangled undergrowth and the squat boxes of industrial buildings and retail parks. He didn’t mind it, though. He found a desolate kind of beauty there—not the manicured charm of some of the rest of the city.

  As they passed a patch of scrubby trees glowing in the autumn sunlight, Robin spotted Dan’s camera lens poking out of the side hatch.

  He grinned to himself. Dan certainly took his photography seriously but seemed to have a lot of fun with it as well. Last night Dan had loaded the day’s shots onto his laptop and shown them to Robin, who was totally unprepared for the artistry of them. He’d kind of assumed that the pictures would be like Dan himself—fun and colourful without much substance. Although that probably wasn’t fair; Robin had caught some hints of deeper feelings lurking under the surface gloss, but whenever he thought he’d connected, Dan shimmered back into brightness again.

  Dan’s photographs, though—they had depth. Robin saw the boaters in a new light—something about the way Dan shot them highlighted both their vulnerability and their pride. Their tiny, cluttered homes had a dignity in Dan’s compositions, and there was great strength in the way the boaters stared down the lens—sometimes laughing, sometimes haughty, sometimes serene.

  Robin cruised out of the city into open countryside until he reached the bend he remembered was just wide enough to turn Serendipity. The lack of rain over the last month of fine weather meant the river was flowing slowly enough for him to make a controlled turn, and he cruised back against the current until he reached a picturesque spot where the banks were steep enough to get the boat moored up tight. A row of ash trees lined the bank, a small patch of woodland beyond them. It was a private spot, the nearest footpath on the other side of the wood. After securing Serendipity with the anchor, he jumped over to the trees and tied the mooring lines to the slender trunks.

  His last line made fast, Robin turned to find Dan watching him from an open hatch.

  “What do you think? Nice spot, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Dan smiled, but something about it didn’t ring true. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Robin frowned. “You want to go for a walk? Reckon there’ll be a great view from the top of the hill there.” The Avon valley spread wide here, the floodplain a patchwork of fields divided by hedgerows in gold and yellow.

  “I’m fine for the moment. How about you join me inside?” There was a lascivious tilt to Dan’s smile this time, but it still wasn’t totally convincing.

  Robin leapt back onto the boat and found Dan in the back, stripping off his T-shirt in the dark passageway before the bed.

  “Hang on, you want to see this first,” Robin said, throwing open the hatch looking out onto the river. “Take a look at that view.”

  As Dan remained motionless, Robin pulled him to the open hatch. Dan didn’t resist when Robin pushed him against the ladder but was curiously listless. Robin wrapped his arms around him and rested his head on Dan’s shoulder. That tension was back again. He pressed a kiss into the knotted muscles.

  “You want to tell me what’s the matter? You’ve been acting weird ever since the locks.”

  “Bugger, and there was me thinking you hadn’t noticed.” Dan gave an abrupt laugh, but some of the tension left his body as he leant back against Robin. “It’s going to sound really stupid, and I should have told you earlier, but…”

  “But?” Robin prompted, trying to ignore the sinking sensation in his guts.

  Dan sighed. “But I can’t swim, and all that water, well, it’s a bit, uh, intimidating.”

  Robin wanted to laugh with relief but stifled the urge, smiling into Dan’s shoulder instead. “You should have said something. We didn’t have to come onto the river.”

  “I know, I know. I think I just wanted to believe I was over it now. I was fucking terrified of water when I was growing up. Mum said I used to scream bloody murder if she tried to get me down the pool.” Dan shivered. “I was dead skinny as a kid. Mum always said it was ’cause I was born six weeks early, didn’t get my first bath until I was out of the incubator and that’s why I was so scared.”

  “What do you reckon it was?” Robin prepared himself for a tale of water-based trauma. A near drowning, perhaps?

  Dan just chuckled. “Like I said, I was skin and bone. Not an ounce of fat on me. Used to sink like a stone in the water. Still do, even though I’ve put on a bit of weight.”

  Robin ran his hands down Dan’s sides. There was no denying Dan had great muscle tone, but as for body fat—there wasn’t any evidence of that. He’d be worried about breaking him if it wasn’t for the way Dan responded with wild enthusiasm when Robin got rough in bed. Dan was definitely tougher than he looked.

  “Can’t you swim at all?”

  “Well, kind of. I can tread water. I had lessons in my early twenties. Special adult learners classes. Most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.” Dan paused a moment, then angled his head so that Robin could see into his eyes. They had a mischievous spark in them. “You should have seen the lifeguard, though. Talk about sex on legs! Mind you, it’s bloody hard work trying to seduce someone who’s just been watching you doing doggy paddle while clinging on to a float for dear life.”

  Robin couldn’t help the laughter this time. It bubbled up inside him, escaping in a peal that surprised them both.

  “Oi! That’s my humiliation you’re laughing at, bastard.”

  Dan didn’t sound upset, and after a moment Robin felt him begin to shake with laughter as well.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Robin said, recovering his equilibrium. “I was just trying to picture it.”

  “Well, if it’s any help, I was wearing the skimpiest, tightest pair of Speedos I could find. They were bright red. Looked pretty sexy, I thought, but I don’t reckon the lifeguard agreed.” Dan sniffed dismissively. “Reckon he must have been straight after all.”

  “Mmm…” Robin nuzzled into Dan’s neck, the thought of him in tight swimming trunks having an effect that made his own clothing suddenly feel about three sizes too small. “You do have a thing for skimpy undies, don’t you?”

  “You got a problem with that, Mr. Thermal Long-Johns?” Dan wiggled his arse as he spoke, grinding b
ack against Robin’s erection.

  Robin groaned, acutely aware of Dan’s naked chest against his arms. The clean scent of cedar wood shower gel mingled with Dan’s underlying sweetness and wrapped itself around him. Funny thing was, he really didn’t find Dan’s taste in underwear as ridiculous as he had a couple of days ago. Somehow, those thongs were just right for Dan, and that made them all right for Robin too—so long as he didn’t have to wear them himself.

  “Nope, no problem. Think you look better out of them, though.” As he spoke, his hands began wandering, one rising to pinch Dan’s nipple while the other reached down to find a tempting bulge. Dan moaned, arching back and pushing against his hand. He palmed Dan’s half-hard cock through the denim, then slipped his hand beneath the waistband. Dan was naked underneath.

  “What happened to the thermals?”

  “Took ’em off, didn’t I? I was bloody roasting in here with Morris on my lap. Besides, they’re not exactly sexy, are they?”

  “Hey! I’m still wearing mine.” It was no wonder he was so hot and sweaty. He didn’t stand a chance of keeping cool between those and the gorgeous, half-naked man in his arms.

  “Yeah, well, you could make an old sack look hot. Some of us aren’t so blessed.”

  Robin blushed. “You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met,” he mumbled into Dan’s neck.

  “Mmm, you’re just saying that ’cause you want to get into my pants.”

  “I already am.”

  Robin grasped Dan’s cock and used his other hand to pull Dan’s head around, devouring him with a messy, openmouthed kiss. Their breath was coming hard and fast when Dan broke away and tried to turn around properly.

  “Bedroom, now,” Dan said.

  “Uh-uh. I want you here.” Robin stripped off his own layers of T-shirts as one, keeping Dan pinned against the ladder.

  Dan protested when Robin began to pull down those indecently tight jeans. “It’s cold. Someone might see us.” It didn’t sound like a serious objection, and Robin finished stripping Dan before dropping to his knees behind him.

  “I’ll keep you warm,” Robin said, lifting one of Dan’s feet up onto the ladder so that his legs were spread. “And who cares if someone sees?” Dan’s buttocks were right in front of his face, and he was seized with the urge to mark them. He sucked hard on one smooth cheek, revelling in the way Dan gasped and quivered whenever Robin did this to him. He didn’t understand this craving to mark Dan as his, but the need was powerful. It wasn’t like he’d have him for long. The bites would fade. Like Robin, they’d soon be nothing more than a memory for Dan. The thought hurt, so he thrust it away.

  Robin pulled back to examine his work. The mark burned livid against Dan’s skin. He licked over it, soothing the reddened flesh, then worked his tongue into the cleft between Dan’s cheeks.

  “Oh fuck! Robin!” Dan’s voice trembled as Robin spread those cheeks wider and found what he was after, running his tongue over and around that sensitive flesh until Dan was panting and writhing, thrusting back against him eagerly. The effect he was having on Dan was such an aphrodisiac that Robin forgot all of his paranoia about infection, all of that safety advice he’d been given that was apparently out of date, and he decided to do something he hadn’t done in years. He delved his tongue into Dan’s twitching hole, relishing the earthy, musky flavour and the sensation of Dan fluttering around him, the whimpers and moans. Yeah, Robin could remember how good that felt, having Jamie rim him until he felt so fucking horny he thought he’d be able to come from that alone.

  “Don’t stop,” Dan pleaded.

  But he didn’t want Dan to come yet. He wanted to feel Dan’s body rippling around him as he pounded his arse. He licked up his spine and found Dan resting his head on his arms, hands clutching at the edges of the hatch. Dan half turned towards him, his face flushed and sweaty, eyes unfocused.

  “Stay there,” Robin told him, licking Dan’s ear. “Be right back.”

  Robin emerged from the bed cabin—sheathed and lubed—and took a moment to drink in the sight of Dan braced against the open hatch, legs spread wide and arse thrust out. And beyond him, the sunlit river glinting and casting shimmering reflections onto the inside of the boat. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more erotic. A lump formed in his throat and tears threatened, so he fucked Dan instead—pushing into that hot, tight channel with a steady slide he now knew Dan loved.

  Robin gripped those hips firmly, right where he’d left bruise marks before. Dan gasped and thrust back. He watched his cock disappearing into Dan’s hole and admired the perfect mark he’d made on that smooth, smooth skin. He ached to ride Dan hard but held back for as long as possible, sliding in and out excruciatingly slowly. But it was impossible to resist picking up the pace and slamming into him, the slap of flesh on flesh and Dan’s incoherent cries all he could hear beyond the rushing blood in his ears. The tide rose high inside, his balls drawing up tight.

  Not yet. He wanted to feel Dan’s orgasm first. He grabbed hold of Dan’s cock and pumped him again and again, heard his name chanted over and over in a broken voice. Dan pulsed in his hand, shuddering and bucking against Robin as his grip grew slippery. Robin came hard, swept away by the current, biting down on Dan’s shoulder to stifle the howl that wanted to escape as he spilt himself over and over again.

  And then everything was quiet and still—everything except for their rasping breath and heaving chests and all those crazy things in Robin’s head that he wanted to say but never would. Never could. So he kissed Dan instead, drawing him close as the sweat on their bodies cooled in the river breeze.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Arrgh!” Dan hopped off his bike and let it fall against the hedgerow as he doubled over. He sucked in air and tried to concentrate on getting enough to breathe rather than on the excruciating pain in his balls.

  “Dan? What’s up?” Robin asked.

  Dan felt Robin’s hand land on his shoulder. It was another few moments before he was able to reply.

  “Landed on my nuts. Chain must have broke. Fucking kills.”

  “Ouch.” Robin’s hand squeezed him before letting go.

  When the pain had reduced from oh-my-God-kill-me-now to merely don’t-want-to-have-sex-ever-again, Dan straightened up to see Robin examining the broken chain.

  “You’ve lost a link. Got a spare?”

  Dan groaned. “I used it a couple of weeks ago. Bloody thing!” He kicked the back tyre. “After the amount of money I spent on you, you’d think you could hold it together for one sodding holiday!”

  Robin looked like he was trying to hide a smile.

  “It’s okay. You can afford to shorten the chain by one link. I’ll do it for you, if you like.”

  “No, no. I can do it. Just because you’re Mr. Fix-It and I’m a city boy, doesn’t mean I can’t mend my own bike chain.”

  “I never said you couldn’t.”

  “I’ll prove it.”

  “Go on, then.” Robin was definitely smirking now.

  “Right.” Dan rummaged through his panniers. He had one of those handy little multi-tool thingies in there somewhere. “Ah, there you are!”

  Robin watched him as he pushed out the broken link and joined up the two on either side.

  “Good thing my dad taught me some useful stuff before he gave up on me, eh? I may not be able to strip a boat engine or build a kitchen, but I can mend a bike chain all by myself.”

  “Must have been nice, having your dad teach you things.” Robin sounded wistful. He was staring off over the river, but Dan didn’t think his eyes were focused on the scenery. Especially as the scenery was the backs of some warehouses at the arse end of Bath.

  “Yeah, well, depends how you look at it. He never missed a chance to let me know he was disappointed in how girly I’d turned out, but I think he thought he could put it right by teaching me bloke’s stuff. He always hated the fact I wasn’t into football and had my head stuck in a book all the time.”

 
Robin didn’t respond. Dan nudged him. “What about your dad? He must have taught you loads.”

  Robin snorted. “Yeah, right. Do you know how much an eye-surgeon’s hands are worth?”

  Dan stared. “Your dad’s a surgeon?” That explained a hell of a lot. The posh accent, the chip on his shoulder about the dyslexia, the rebellion.

  “Yep. His hands are far too valuable to risk doing DIY. His time was too valuable to spend much of it on a loser like me, either.”

  “That’s rough.”

  Robin shrugged and kept his eyes fixed on that distant point. “I managed. Learnt a few things at school and found other boaters to teach me what I’ve wanted to know since then. I picked up enough.”

  Robin hugged his arms around himself and chewed on his lower lip. He looked so young, so vulnerable like that. Why did some parents have to fuck up their children’s lives so comprehensively?

  Dan wanted to hug Robin tight, but his hands were covered in grease from the chain. He wiped them off as best he could on his jeans. They were already ruined from the mud, soot and general canal dirt. He didn’t even want to think about the state of his trainers. If he were going to spend much more time here, he’d need to get a pair of boots like Robin’s: big, sexy, lace-up leather boots Robin tucked his trousers into. But he wasn’t going to be here for longer than a few days, was he?

  “Finished?” Robin said. He turned to look at Dan for the first time since their conversation had started. The inscrutable expression was back. The one that Dan now realised meant he had his barriers up again. “I’m dying for that pint. Can you manage to get back on the saddle?”

  Dan winced at the idea. Between yesterday’s shafting at the open hatch and the abuse his balls had just suffered, it wasn’t the most appealing prospect.

  “Can we walk for a bit? That way I might just be up for a ride again later.” Dan let his voice drop low and waggled his eyebrows.

  That earned him a smile.