Yaoi Infused M/M Romance

A Summer Without Rain – PG Excerpt 3

 

A Summer Without Rain - Historical Yaoi, M/M Romance

Shannon looked at the countryside surrounding their small cart, noticing patches of brown in the green hills. The patches weren’t there the last time they came through here. Would everything finally just dry up?

The late afternoon heat sweltered around him, making sweat form on his brow and upper lip. He shifted his gaze forward and saw the small town they’d stayed at on their trip out.

It was time to talk to Ciaran. His thoughts went over and over about Iona’s warning to be careful since they left Dublin and Ciaran kept holding his hand and giving him absent kisses. Although it was like a dream come true, he had to make him understand the full consequences of someone seeing him do those things. “We need to talk about something, Ciaran,” his voice was low and firm.

With a wide grin spreading on his lips, Ciaran playfully pressed his shoulder into Shannon’s chest. “Oh really, you mean you finally have something to say?” His body bumped along in the cart.

“This is bloody serious.” Holding Ciaran’s hand between them, he gave it a sharp squeeze.

“Ow.” Ciaran startled and wiggled his hand.

He held tight and didn’t let go.

Turning his head, Ciaran glared at his friend.

His brow tensed with worry. “We really have to be careful when we get back home. If anyone sees or even suspects they see something between us like this.” He held up their entwined hands. “Well, it would be bloody awful.” Ciaran’s expression changed to something teetering between fear and confusion. “What do you mean, it would be bloody awful?”

“I mean awful, as in, it’s illegal, Ciaran.” He better not question me as to how I know these things. Would he have to disclose his illicit affair with Mr. Flannigan? He couldn’t, not yet.

A faint smile played on Ciaran’s lips. “You mean they’d put us in jail for holding hands?”

“Don’t be daft. It would mean our special thing here would be over.” Irritation rifled through his body. Should he tell Ciaran how he, himself would be driven from the town, if not killed? Should he tell Ciaran how he’d be forever shunned? No, it’d surely bring up the teacher.

As if in deep thought, Ciaran’s eyes studied Shannon’s face.

Fear jolted his heart, making his gaze dash away.

“But, how do y—”

“Just know I’d never see you again.” This conversation must end, here, now.

“Don’t even say that. I’d never let that happen.” Ciaran frowned.

His voice became low and spiteful. “Yeah, well, sometimes you don’t have a bloody choice.” Unwrapping his fingers from his friend’s, he rested his hand in his lap as they approached buildings and townspeople.

Pursing his lips and tensing his brows, Ciaran focused on their surroundings. As the inn came closer, he steered the horse to the front entrance.

“Listen, I’ll check us in and bring our things up to the room. Then I’ll meet you in the pub.” He climbed off the cart, focusing his attentions on pulling Ciaran’s suitcase and his pillowcase out of the back.

A quick smile flashed on Ciaran’s face. “Hungry again, are we?”

He smiled back at his friend. “Yeah.”

Shannon strolled into the smoke-filled tavern after taking care of his tasks to find Ciaran sitting at the same bench they’d sat at the last time they had dinner here. “Feeling a bit nostalgic, eh, Ciaran?” He let out a faint chuckle. Taking a seat next to Ciaran, he raked a hand through his long, dark hair and looked around the room. A fair amount of patrons filled the tables and sat at the bar. The place must be doing very well. A hand warmed his thigh, startling him. Plunging his hand down, he tossed Ciaran’s hand off. He glared at him. “Didn’t you hear what I said earlier?”

Ciaran looked at him with equal parts hurt and surprise. “Of course, but nobody could see that and besides, we’re not home yet.”

He leaned in close to him. “You never know who may be around. You think people from our town might not have traveled here? You think rumors can’t spread from here to Enfield? Besides, you have to get used to keeping your hands to yourself now.” He searched his friend’s beautiful face. Did his words hurt Ciaran? But he had to get through to him.

Surprise faded from Ciaran’s expression until only hurt remained.

Regret threaded through him. This was terrible. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so harsh.

Ciaran turned his head away and stared with a frown at the far wall of the tavern.

He pressed his chest up against Ciaran’s side. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. It’s just—”

Whirling around, Ciaran faced his friend. “What happened, Shannon? Why is it you know all these things?”

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