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James meant for today to be a romantic date at the botanical garden festival with Miranda and Thomas, and it had started that way. Some sort of New Age band that Thomas adored was playing flutes and hand drums by the weeping willows, the rain clouds from earlier in the morning had cleared, and the small arts and crafts booths had been a delight for both the Hamiltons.
It had been going smoothly, but then came the pond and the paddle boats.
The man’s name was John, which was about as commonplace and unassuming as a name could be. John was anything but.
This was not their first meeting. John, it seemed, also frequented the various fairs and festivals around the city. Their first encounter occurred last season, when John had bested him at a shooting game and had the gall to give Miranda the prize he won—a large plush walrus, which Miranda still had on her reading chair. The next run-in ended with John beating him at ring toss, dart throwing, and even the strength challenge, which had to have been rigged. After many losses and many gifted trinkets, John was markedly his rival.
James loved it.
The festivals had always been of more interest to Miranda and Thomas, and, while James warmed at their child-like delight, he got rather bored with the similar booths and disliked the crowded streets. Competition with John, however, sparked new life into the festival outings and James was soon eager for the next event. More than once, he found himself searching for the dark, curly mop of hair among the crowd.
Where James had not expected to see John, was at the Ren Faire. The jousting tournament at that. He had been in the front row cheering on the blue knight with Thomas. When the knight won, removed his helmet, and shot a familiar confident smirk their way, James’ heart had fluttered and he knew he had thoroughly lost to John once and for all.
And thus, the dilema with the boats.
“I am absolutely not going to share the swan boat with him,” James said, arms crossed as he attempted not to steal a glance at John, who was climbing into the last swan boat, the boat James had wanted to squeeze into with Miranda and Thomas. But, no, John had gotten there first and now only hideous, sun-faded, duck paddle boats were left, and Miranda had just insinuated that James should join John out on the pond.
Miranda looked disappointed in him. “He’ll be spinning the boat in circles if no one goes with him.”
“Then you go with him,” James said back more snappily than intended. He immediately gave her an apologetic, pitiful pout. “The swan is romantic and John’s always wooing you with gifts as it is.”
Wrong thing to say. Thomas was entirely too pleased with that reaction. “Is that jealousy I hear?” He shared a look with Miranda that sent alarm bells off in James’ head. “James,” his tone of voice was entirely too suspicious, “do you like John?”
James blanched, then turned a ridiculous shade of red that had him feeling like diving into the pond just to cool off.
“Your rivalry with him was always a tad charged,” Miranda said as if James had already confirmed Thomas’ suspicion. With zero subtlety, she turned to wave at John and, catching his eye, she gave him a signal to wait.
James groaned and then confessed, “I really don’t feel that he has any interest in me at all.”
“Please, that one follows you around from game to game like a puppy,” Thomas said and began leading them towards the boats.
“You’re also awful at gauging interest,” Miranda said with a chuckle and wrapped her arm around Thomas’. “When was it that you finally caught on that Thomas was just as interested as I? Oh, yes, after the kiss and about two feet outside our bedroom.”
James nearly rolled his eyes, but it was embarrassingly true.
“Plus,” Thomas chimed in, “John texts her asking which festivals you’ll be attending.”
“You text him?” James raised his eyebrows.
Miranda nodded. “Some of us are proactive in our relationships. It’s a very good tactic, I recommend it.”
When she and Thomas stopped at one of the first duck boats, she gave James a playful shove towards the swan and he finally let himself meet John’s eyes. John was standing in the boat quite steadily, despite the prosthesis that irritated him on humid days, and he was leaning casually over the swan’s head. He gave a small two finger wave and a lazy smile that sent that familiar, fluttering feeling through James.
“Don’t stop there,” John said and stepped back up onto the dock. “I saved this boat for the throuple.”
“I hate that word,” James grumbled as the three of them met up with John. “And the boats only fit two,” he pointed out, despite his original plan to make it work for more. John hardly seemed to view two seats as a problem.
“The swans are so lovely,” Miranda said and patted the cheap plastic beak. “We couldn’t possibly take it from you.”
John theatrically put a hand to his heart. “You wound me. Would this be the first gift of mine you reject? I’m afraid if you don’t take it, someone else will have it. I plan to ride out on a majestic duck.”
“Majestic duck?” James echoed incredulously.
"Well then, thank you for thinking of us,” Thomas said wholeheartedly and held out his hand to help Miranda into the swan, both of them having apparently silently decided not to pressure him into sharing it with John.
James nearly followed after them in hopes of putting the whole business of confessing his interest in John behind him, hopefully never to be discussed again, but then he was nearly jerked over into the water. It was by pure luck that he steadied himself and he turned to glare at, none other than, John, who at first glance appeared to have stumbled into the duck and thought it a good idea to use James as a handrail. On second glance, his smile was too mischievous for that move to have been anything but purposeful.
“The boats only fit two,” John said, grinning.
It had been that easy for John to get James into the boat with him. By the time they were out in the middle of the pond, James felt quite like a teenager set up on a date with his crush. Ugly duck or not, being out on water with lotus flowers and a scattering of dogwood blossoms over the calm surface was romantic. It had never been just the two of them, they had certainly never been this close to each other, and John had never looked as gorgeous as he did now, reaching over the boat and into the water to play with the koi fish there.
“I have crackers,” James said, and John looked over his shoulder, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “For the fish,” he added stupidly.
"You were terrible at that goldfish game," John said, settling back into his seat and tilting his head towards James. “Did you keep the ones I gave you?”
“That you gave Miranda,” he corrected. “Yes. We had to buy a tank.”
He pulled a small bag of crushed crackers from his pocket, glared at them for their fragility, and held it out for John anyways. Their fingers lingered for far longer than necessary. John didn’t return his attention to the fish. James looked down to the pedals, then out to where a few actual ducks were paddling around, and finally back to John’s searching eyes.
His eyes flickered down. “Would you like something from me?”
John meant a trinket. A stuffed animal. A keychain. A cheap toy. Surely, he meant a trinket.
It didn’t sound like he meant a trinket.
“Sha-la-la-la-la-la don't be scared.” James broke their connection and shot a look to where Miranda and Thomas were trailing behind them and, to his horror, harmonizing.
“You got the mood prepared / Go on and kiss the boy.” John, for once, didn’t seem to be overflowing with confidence. He hid his face in his hand, but his smile didn’t leave him.
“Sha-la-la-la-la-la don't stop now / Don't try to hide it, how? / You wanna kiss the boy.” It wasn’t untrue. God, they were both blushing terribly. Hearts racing. Other boaters were watching.
“Sha-la-la-la-la-la float along / And listen to the song / The song say, kiss the boy.” He chanced a look at John again, who brought his hand away from his face and down over James’ hand. He was looking up through his lashes like a Disney princess. Prince.
“You got to / Kiss the boy / Why don't you / Kiss the boy.” John began to look cocky again, as if this was one of their festival games.
“Go on / You gotta / Kiss the boy.” James would be damned if he was going to let John win here.
“Go on and / Kiss the boy.” They met softly somewhere in the middle. Who had moved first or who closed the most distance, he didn’t know. It hardly mattered once he knew the feel of John’s supple lips and John’s fingers threaded their way between his.
It lasted only a moment. A brief acknowledgement that this was a shared feeling and that it was real. It was still enough to steal James’ breath away.
“How do you feel about the word ‘quad’?” John asked entirely rhetorically, a smile in his words.
“I think I could work it into my vocabulary.”
This time, James asked for John’s number.