Page 63 of Men in Shorts

Slowly Robert lifted his right foot, stepped over the carton, then followed with his left foot. A teenage lad yelped in triumph at the sight of the smokes, which he quickly scooped up and absconded with.

Robert turned around. “There’s no cops behind me, John. You lied.”

“For your own good. Now let’s get that duck.”

John heard the toy peddler before he saw her. The wee wifey’s shrill voice echoed off the market’s low wooden ceilings.

“Don’t be such a fanny,” she was telling someone. “How long you gonnae wait? Until you’re one hundred percent sure?”

John rounded the corner and stopped when he saw that the person she was haranguing was Fergus.

“Let me tell you,” she said, “there’s no such thing.” She waved a finger at Fergus’s chin, which was easily a foot above her head. “A year’ll go by, then another, then another, and next thing you know you’ll be ninety-three, and those condoms won’t even hang onto your shriveled old tadgers.”

Frozen, Fergus stared down at her with wide eyes. John’s stomach sank. He’d tried so hard not to pressure his boyfriend, knowing he hated being pushed into decisions. After this, Fergus would surely shut down, and they’d never broach the subject again.

Finally Liam cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Sorry, but—how much for the ducks?”

Chapter3

“Ooh, we can have a massage!”John looked up from his phone to smile at Fergus as they walked from the subway station toward the Club 212 sauna. “Or a sugar scrub. I’ve heard those are nice.” He checked his phone again, shading it from the late-afternoon sunlight. “They also do teeth whitening.”

“Do I need my teeth whitened?” Fergus felt insecure as it was at the thought of being naked in front of dozens of strange men.

“Smile for me.”

Fergus tried, but he knew it was more of a baring of the teeth.

“Nah, you’re good,” John said after a brief examination. “Maybe in a year or two.”

They stopped at a corner to wait for the traffic light. Fergus tried not to fidget with his shirt tail, or slip his hands into his jacket pockets, or do any of his other nervous tells.

When he’d asked John to go to the bathhouse, he’d hoped the answer would be no, that the invitation itself would be a sufficient sign of trust. Instead John had been delighted at the prospect of a new “adventure.”

“Listen to this review.” John thumbed his phone screen. “‘Friendly place. Got a nice wank off in the pool. Look forward to going again.’”

Fergus hoped John didn’t see him shudder.

“I know, sounds disgusting,” John said, “but I’m sure they put loads of chlorine in the water.”

“Brilliant,” Fergus muttered as the light changed. He stepped off the curb, but John caught his arm.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

“I do want.” Fergus grimaced at his unconvincing tone. “Like you said, it’ll be an adventure.” He started across the road, moving faster now.The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.

John’s footsteps thumped behind Fergus as he caught up. “Okay, but if it helps, please know I love every bit of you—the bold bits, the canny bits, and all the bits in between.”

He gave John another smile, this time a real one. “It does help.”

Fergus was relieved to see that the sauna’s side street was nearly empty. He’d heard weekday afternoons were the establishment’s quietest times, but he’d still worried there’d be an enormous queue outside. What if he saw a client of his firm, where they thought Fergus had taken the afternoon off for a doctor’s appointment?

A small plaque bearing the sauna’s name marked the ultra-discreet entrance. John pressed a button beside the door to be let in.

After riding the lift to the third floor, they found a polo-shirt-and-chinos-clad attendant with a name badge which readI’m Alan and I’m Here to Help!The young man was friendly but polite, reminding Fergus of a hotel front-desk clerk. He took their money, had them sign a short waiver, then presented them each with a white towel, along with a key and numbered metal tag hanging from a rubber neck strap.

“Leave your clothes in the lockers through there.” Alan pointed to the door behind him. “Then have a shower, then…do whatever you fancy.” He started counting off on his fingers. “We’ve got a dry sauna, a steam room, a Jacuzzi, a darkroom, a lounge, a café—and of course private cabins, which can be made semi-private if you prefer.”

Semi-private. If they wanted to be watched—or joined.

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