Waiting For A Spark Lillian Francis ARE by Lillian Francis

Author:Lillian Francis [Francis, Lillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Finally Love Press
Published: 2017-05-25T22:00:00+00:00

Do you want to read more about Tomak and Jerome?

Turn the page to find a brief ficlet, written for the UK Meet 2014.

‘When the Boat Comes In’ catches up with Tomak and Jerome about 6 months after the events in Waiting for a Spark.

When the Boat Comes In

Warily Jerome picked at his fish. As he pushed it around the plate, Nav’s warning bounced around his brain. Under the table, a warm hand landed on his thigh and a waft of Tomak’s familiar scent gave him cause to hesitate.

He flicked his gaze from the plate as Tomak leaned in.

“You okay?” Tomak asked, his voice low enough not to attract the attention of the other diners seated around the table. Although, Jerome doubted they would be heard over the fierce debate going on about…well, it had been football, but Jerome had been so engrossed in his fish that it might possibly have changed.

“Sure,” Jerome said with a smile, just because Tomak was close and touching him. Tomak was his and Jerome still couldn’t comprehend that fact even after all these months.

“Is your fish alright?” Tomak’s concern was showing, again. He frowned. “I know you like fish. I’ve seen you eat it often enough. Or are you one of these weird people who will only eat it smothered in batter?”

Jerome shook his head, a fond expression on his face. “You know full well that I pick the batter off my fish.” He pulled a face. “Hideous stuff.”

The first time they’d had fish and chips, they’d been sitting on Brighton beach. The cold October wind had given them an excuse to huddle together, the paper holding their meal spread across their laps. On the train home Tomak had teased Jerome mercilessly, once they’d gotten their breath back after running away from all those seagulls dive-bombing them for the scraps. Dangerous things seagulls; they could have your eye out. Who knew seagulls love chip shop batter? Not Jerome.

“So what’s up?”

“Nothing.” Jerome slipped his hand under the table, settled it over Tomak’s and squeezed reassuringly.

“Good.” Tomak’s smile reached his eyes, dragging Jerome’s attention along with it and for a moment he got distracted as he lost himself again in their blue depths. Eyes so blue they had attracted Jerome across a crowded bus. The rocking hot body had helped, too. Tomak grinned as if he knew what Jerome was thinking.

“Good,” Tomak reiterated as he waved his fork vaguely in the direction of the far end of the table, “because Uncle Demetri, he caught fish fresh this morning.”

Tomak paused to spear a forkful of fish and slip it between his lips. He chewed the mouthful, and Jerome’s gaze dipped to the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “From duck pond on the green.”

The duck pond. Jerome swallowed thickly; tasting stagnant water, even though nothing whatsoever had passed his lips. The duck pond held nothing but carp, residing there compliments of the local council, and a plethora of No Fishing signs. Once upon a time it had only been heron that the council had to worry about stealing the fish.

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