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A story inspired by a YouTube video of a desperate man watching sport at a bar. It wasn’t meant to be her story. She was meant to be the one writing it. But life had other plans. Bethan sat alone in the adults only area of the cruise ship pad and pen in hand watching people and day dreaming. It had seemed such a great idea two months ago when she discussed her latest novel plot with the publishers. If you’re writing a book about finding love on a cruise ship then why not go on one yourself? At least it was helpeing take her mind off today’s date. That alone had to be a positive. Day 4 of the 10 day cruise and eating alone against a backdrop of older couples was becoming the norm, but tonight as she sat eating a plate full of various nibbles from the eat as much as you like buffet the bar area had a buzz of male voices and camaraderie as she glanced up at the large screen to see some sort of sports match playing. Perfect. Well perfect for the script that was as Pierre, the male character in the plot, happened to be a sportsman too, taking a cruise to escape the trappings of all that fame had brought him. Watching the first random male who took her eye sitting at the bar Bethan scribbled some notes. ‘Fixed eyes, tilted head, hyper focussed, drinking without even looking at the glass.’ Great stuff. She ate a little more and sipped at her drink before looking over at the random man once again. ‘Straight back, firm shoulders, hair curling at the neckline, cheering and smiling. Still drinking. It’s like nothing else matters to him. Like everything around him has disappeared. Only one thing matters to him at this moment in time.’ More scribbles and a little day dreaming out the window looking at the sea before turning again to the same random man. His glass is empty and the bar tender is walking over towards him. He leans over to speak to the bartender, presumably ordering more of whatever it is he’s drinking. Bethan moves her eyes to the TV realising there’s now adverts playing for half time, as she’s really hoping random man remains exactly where he is. He doesn’t look anything like she’d imagined Pierre might, even though she’s only seen the back of him so far, but his mannerism and dedication to the match on screen reminds her so much of the character she’s created in her story and slowly becoming more and more attached to. Suzy would probably call it part of the grieving process; creating fictitious men with similar features to her Fraser to fall in love with through a female version of herself in a story. Maybe that’s exactly what Bethan was aiming for. Does it really matter as long as the book sells as well as all her previous ones? Suddenly random man turns for no reason that Bethan can work out as their eyes meet ever so briefly and Bethan smiles before looking back nervously down at her half eaten food. That little curl of his fringe, those deep brown eyes, so much younger than any other male she’s seen on the cruise to date. Different. Most definitely different. Scribbling furiously between sips at her own drink Bethan lifts her head again at the sound of the TV. Whatever the game is it’s about to restart and random man hasn’t even moved from his bar stool once so far.Lifting her own glass to drink Bethan startles herself to see there’s now nothing left in her glass. Looking around for any signs of staff she sighs and nervously gathers her pad and pen and walks towards the bar. There’s only one space free and it just so happens to be very close to random sports fan man as Bethan climbs onto the seat desperately trying not to look at him. He’s so unlike her Fraser, so unlike him in almost every way, but she can’t help but be drawn to him like Princess is to Pierre in the story she’s writing. He’s not looking anywhere near her though, his eyes once again fixated only on the screen as he bounces excitedly on the bar stool entirely caught up in whatever reason the crowd are now cheering for. A goal? A try? A save? Bethan isn’t overly bothered, though Pierre would be, just like the random nameless man beside her is. Ordering a drink and glancing back to her table, which has now been cleared and reset up for the next customer, Bethan tries to think of adjectives and phrases to note in her pad as soon as she can. ‘Bouncing excitedly, engrossed fully, one hand on thigh the other moving the drink to his lips automatically.” She scribbles shorthand, hiding her words just in case anyone sees Now even closer, almost touching, taking in as much about his stance, his focus, his build, even his smell, as possible, solely for research purposes of course.. So far he’s been silent, actively moving his legs and staring, but without words. But as something on screen happens to cause him to almost hold his breath Bethan notices his hand move closer up his leg, pressing firmly as he slides forward on the stood almost standing. “What! How did he miss that!” Bethan scribbles it down already thinking she’ll need to research more about sport than she’d really wanted to, but the voice…wow it sends shivers tingling right down her spine. The accent, the intensity, the masculinity of it. Trying to capture that in words she hides the pad under her arm and frantically scribbles more notes for her story. This is helping. This is why she paid silly money she didn’t really have to be here. Sipping more wine Bethan finds she can’t take her eyes off the man. Is that sweat drops on the back of his neck? It’s making her feel warm and fuzzy just seeing them. He’s fit alright, and while clearly drinking he doesn’t appear to be drunk. No he’s very much still in control, though increasingly fidgety and restless. Is it the game? Bethan knows too little about whatever it is to even know but random man speaks again, this time to no-one in particular. “Oh come on! Not extra time! No way!” He’s on the very edge of the bar stool now, leaning forwards as Bethan puts her head down to scribble more on her knee. With her head low her eyes move from the page to the man’s knees right beside her. His hand; Gawd, his hand! It’s not resting or pressing on his thigh any more. Under the bar, clearly trying not to be seen, just like she is with her note taking, he’s touching himself, rubbing his own crotch even! The thought makes Bethan’s head spin. He’s so super focussed on the game so surely he’s not..you know…aroused? Bethan shivers at the thought. What is it about this man that’s catching her off guard? She’s here to gather research for her story not find herself wanting someone just because of how they’re sitting. Now his foot is tapping, his hand pressing harder between his legs, his bottom now half off the seat, the side of his face tense looking. It must be the game. Maybe it’s a critical moment or something? Gasps from the TV echo throughout the bar. Bethan senses it’s a moment of extreme significance, nail biting all eyes on the screen type moment. Everyone seems frozen, that is except the man beside her. Wearing shorts so similar to so many other males at the bar tonight suddenly even the hairs on his bare legs seem to be attractive to Bethan. It’s been so long since she last touched a man’s legs, felt a man’s chest, kissed a man’s lips. Since Fraser passed suddenly her sexual desires seemed to pretty much vanish with him, but now, right here sitting at a bar out at sea on a cruise ship half way out in 5r ocean, watching the actions of a nameless man, it’s like her body has come alive again for the first time. Not how this was meant to be. Not in any way at all. Determined to stay focussed herself Bethan looks again at her subject. ‘Antsy, fidgety, squirmy. Foot tapping fast on the floor, leaning hard against the bar, sweat visible under t-shirt.’ Ah perfect. All rather sexual and arousing, as Pierre in the story is meant to be. All very dramatic and tense. Scribbling away on her pad under the bar she can’t help but notice his hand is still there. You know…where she saw it earlier pressing, kneading, maybe even squeezing? Definitely not stroking. Absolutely not that! But his other hand is still holding that glass, the one that’s now almost empty again. It’s like he isn’t even aware of what his hand is doing under the table. Maybe he’s trying his best to block it out. Maybe he’s embarrassed? Bethan scribbles some thoughts down. Is he shy? Too inebriated to realise what he’s doing? He stands up suddenly, leaning forward, hand still in place hidden under the bar, eyes glued to the screen. Bethan notes it down then reads back her own notes: several drinks, not moved, fixated on game, fidgeting, hand grasping himself. As if a bulb lights up above her head cartoon style she suddenly realises what mystery, nameless, random, sexy man is struggling with: He really needs a piss! The thought makes Bethan visibly shake and blush. She’s sitting right beside a man who has consumed several pints of something alcoholic, is so distracted by what he’s watching but yet very clearly uncomfortable and struggling to keep control. What if he…the thought makes her warm and giddy. She drinks the rest of her glass of wine suddenly feeling she needs the privacy of her cabin right away, her nipples tingling like they are on fire and her other, even more intimate area, buzzing like she’s suddenly sitting on a moving object. This is exactly what Princess feels on seeing Pierre in the book! This is perfect book material if even she needed it! Trying to stand Bethan has to grip the bar as the room moves. It must be the wine? She’s only had one glass though? Steadying herself with the back of the chair she realises it’s the intensity of her own thoughts that are making the room seem so different, so hazy. With her mind full of characters, erotic ideas and dreams she has to get back to her cabin right away to start writing before her own body gives away what’s going on in her mind. Touching the edge of the bar to get her balance again the man beside her turns away from the TV and places his glass down hurriedly on the bar in a sudden rush. Not properly looking what he’s doing he places the glass right onto Bethan’s hand! ‘Owww’ He turns to look Bethan right in the eyes again, his words so apologetic as he immediately lifts the glass as he notices what he’s done. “I’m…I’m ever so sorry. I didn’t notice your hand there. Are you ok?” Bethan lifts her hand to look at it already guessing there’s no harm done but blushing madly at seeing the man face to face that she’s just spent the last hour writing about without his knowledge or permission. Like a true gent he lifts his hand off his glass and immediately reaches out for Bethan’s touching her gently and softly as he turns her hand in his to check he hasn’t hurt her. “I…I’m fine.” “Phew. I should have been paying more attention though. Can I maybe buy you a drink or something to make up for it? I’m just going to…I’ll be right back! Stay here and I promise I’ll get you a drink as soon as I’ve…” Unsure if she can handle a drink with the nameless man who is making her feel giddy and breathless, and not wishing to get too tipsy so that she can’t write more of her book tonight Bethan shouts over to the man who is walking quickly towards the area with the toilets against the back wall. “It’s ok. I’m fine thanks. No need to get me a drink. Honestly.” He doesn’t appear to be stopping so Bethan chases after him catching up with him just yards from the bathrooms. Tugging at his arms he turns around with a strained look on his face and one hand clutching between his legs like a young child. “It’s fine. My hand is fine. Listen I’m ok. I just need to get back to my cabin though. Please don’t think I’m rude but there’s really no need to buy me a drink. It was an accident after all.” “Ok. Thanks. I’m afraid you’ll need to excuse me though. I’ve been dying for a slash the entire second half and I’m…shit…gotta go mam. Glad you’re ok.” As he turns to get ever closer to the gents just yards away Bethan thinks of Princess and Pierre in her mind, the story she’s already written in draft and had approved by her publishes. They meet on a cruise and Princess is so afraid she’ll never see Pierre again when the cruise ends that she kisses him on the last night and admits her true feelings. It’s been four years to the day since Fraser’s passing, four years of no kisses, no-one touching her body, no sex. She doesn’t even know this man’s name but seeing him so bursting to pee for so long has brainwashed her. Grabbing his arm, Bethan turns him around in her arms pulling him towards her as she kisses his cheek lightly. “What’s…what’s that for?” “For inspiring me. Long story, which I don’t think you’ve got time for right no, but thank you. I don’t even know your name. But just thank you. By the way you look incredibly sexy holding your pee you know!” “Wha….what? Shit….you have beautiful eyes by the way. Noticed them earlier. Stunning shade of deep hazel.” “Thank you. Bethan. My name’s Bethan by the way.” “And I’m Danny. Oh Gosh. I’m really really sorry about this. I really ought to have gone earlier.” Bethan steps that but closer, the lights dimmed and music beginning to play now the sport has ended. Looking into Danny’s eyes it’s clear there’s something between them as she edges closer to his face, one hand around his neck and the other where his own hand was just seconds before as she pushes his own damp hand away gently to fondle his soaking wet crotch. The story was meant to be about two people finding love on a cruise ship. Bethan just didn’t realise that one of those people would be her.