Ukuleles & Scrums (Mitch & Cian Book 4)

by Helena Stone

  Ukuleles & Scrums

  Mitch & Cian #4

  Helena Stone

  Synopsis

  Falling in love is easy. Building a life together takes more work.

  Nine months after getting together, Mitch and Cian are studying in Dublin and sharing an apartment. For both, this is a dream come true and even boring household chores become fun when they do them side by side.

  Tensions arise after Cian joins an inclusive rugby club and Mitch a ukulele orchestra. Insecurities, jealousy, and lack of relationship-experience soon lead to resentment, and each struggles to balance romance with their individual interests. After Cian and Mitch accept separate invitations to Halloween parties, hoping the other will accompany them, their doubts grow.

  Will All Hallows’ Eve drive a wedge between them or could there be another miracle in the making?

  Ukuleles and Scrums is the fourth novella in the Mitch & Cian series. While it could, possibly, be read as a stand-alone story, the reader will enjoy it more if they read A Miracle in the Library, Lessons in Love, and Pride of Place first.

  Copyright

  Ukuleles & Scrums (Mitch & Cian #4)

  First edition: October 2019

  Copyright @ 2019 by Helena Stone

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All trademarks are the property of their respective owners.

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Copyright Notice

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Thank You for Reading

  About the Author

  Also By Helena Stone

  Acknowledgements

  The longer I write the more I realize how fortunate I am to have so many people in my life who are willing and able to help me make my stories the best they can possibly be.

  K. Evan Coles, Paul Wright, and Sherry Mahnken were invaluable beta readers. Tanja Ongkiehong once again used her proof reading powers to make me look better than I actually am, while Dermot Kennedy made sure my musical and rugby-related references all made sense.

  Thank you, Brigham Vaughn for talking me through the process of creating a paperback cover. I could never have done it without you.

  A special mention goes to Michael Menton, Vice President of the real Emerald Warriors. He went well above and beyond the call of duty when he volunteered to read my story and gave me permission to use the Dublin club’s name in Ukuleles & Scrums. Having said that, the club as portrayed in this book is very much a product of my imagination and any mistakes or discrepancies are my responsibility only. The real Emerald Warriors can be found here: https://www.ewrfc.ie/

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to love in all its wondrous manifestations.

  Chapter One

  Something smells good.

  With a happy sigh, Mitch closed the front door behind him, wondering if there would ever come a moment when returning home wouldn’t fill him with both warmth and a buzz of excitement.

  He followed his nose to the kitchen and leaned against the doorpost, observing his boyfriend for a few moments. Cian was blissfully unaware of Mitch’s presence, totally engrossed in the large pan on the cooker in front of him, stirring whatever delicious-smelling concoction he was making with a wooden spoon.

  Mitch lost himself in the simple pleasure of inhabiting his own space and sharing it with Cian, who’d become an integral part of his life in less than a year. A month after they’d moved into what Mitch still thought of as their miracle apartment, the novelty of living with his boyfriend hadn’t begun to wear off. He still woke up some mornings having to pinch himself before he could believe that Cian was sleeping next to him. He’d never known grocery shopping could be fun until they did it together. Nor could he have guessed how much joy he derived from discovering Cian’s habits, his rhythm, and his likes and dislikes.

  Just when Mitch thought he should probably make a sound to let Cian know he was home, Cian turned away from the cooker. He pulled up short when he spotted Mitch before a wide grin appeared on his face.

  “Sneaky.” Cian mock-glared at Mitch. “Have you been there long?”

  Mitch chuckled. “No, just a few minutes tops.”

  “And you didn’t think to shout out and let me know you’re back?”

  “What can I say?” Mitch shrugged. “I like looking at this domestic God version of you.”

  “Whatever.” Cian turned back to the cooker and turned on the heat beneath what appeared to be a pot of water. “It’s your turn to play the chef tomorrow.”

  For a moment Mitch feared he’d upset Cian. Then his boyfriend glanced at him over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with mirth before he reached for the large container with dried spaghetti on an overhead shelf, removed the lid, and placed it next to the cooker.

  Mitch took the few steps separating him from Cian, pressed his lips to Cian’s cheek when they were shoulder to shoulder, and sneaked a peek at the contents of the bigger pan at the same time. “Bolognaise?” he asked hopefully.

  Cian turned his head and gave Mitch a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Yes. I know we had it not too long ago, but—”

  “I love it,” Mitch said before Cian could finish his sentence. “I’d eat your spag-bol every other day if you’d let me.” He rested his head against Cian’s shoulder.

  “Ugh. Your hair’s wet.” Cian pulled away. “Still raining out there?”

  “Does it ever stop?” Mitch sighed dramatically. “My trousers are soaked too. How long until that’s ready?” He nodded at the cooker, where the water was starting to bubble.

  “About ten minutes.” Cian reached for the pasta, grabbed a handful, and dropped it in the pot. “Go and get changed. It should be done when you are.”

  Whistling softly, Mitch walked to their bedroom, relishing the still new joy of simply being happy. He’d moved into his new life without doubts and, so far, without any significant hiccups either. There were moments when it was hard to believe Cian and he had only shared a house for about four weeks rather than several years. They’d found a rhythm, a way of being together automatically, without having to discuss rules, expectations, or a division of chores.

  Mitch opened the bedroom door and smiled ruefully. Well, almost automatically. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to Cian dropping his clothes wherever he happened to take them off. Then again, he was convinced Cian would never understand why Mitch had an issue with that. As he made his way across the room, he picked up a sweatshirt, a T-shirt, and a pair of jeans, depositing them into the laundry basket before he stripped and added his own clothes too.

  A few minutes later, after he’d changed into a loose-fitting tracksuit and still towel-drying his hair, he made his way back to the kitchen, hungry and eager to taste the result of Cian’s efforts.

  Cian, who’d turned out to not only be very good at cooking but also really enjoyed it. The same Cian who had set the table, featuring a big pot filled with delicious-looking spaghetti and sauce as the centrepiece.

  “This looks great.” Mitch pulled out a chair and sat, reaching for the pair of tongs and serving spoon immediately. He piled the pasta on his plate and tucked in. He’d taken at le
ast ten mouthfuls before he looked up to find Cian staring at him with a bemused grin on his face and his own plate still empty.

  “What?” Mitch forked up more as soon as the word left his mouth. “I’m hungry, and this is good.”

  “Nothing,” Cian said while helping himself to some spaghetti. “I like watching you dive head first into something I cooked.”

  Mitch flushed. “It’s your fault,” he muttered. “If you didn’t cook so well, I wouldn’t be so greedy.”

  Cian swallowed, then focused on Mitch. “I wasn’t criticizing you. I only meant that doing something is more rewarding if the other person clearly appreciates it.”

  “I know.” Mitch felt silly. He couldn’t deny he always breathed a sigh of relief when Cian appeared to enjoy something he’d concocted. “Can I take some more?” He mentally crossed his fingers Cian hadn’t meant to keep leftovers for his lunch the following day.

  “Knock yourself out,” Cain said. “Just leave some for me. I’m playing catch-up here.”

  Mitch focused on his food again, mentally going through his options for the next day’s dinner. If at all possible, he wanted to impress his boyfriend.

  “So, I’ve got a bit of news.” Cian handed the plate he’d just washed to Mitch, who waited with a tea towel in hand.

  Although he wouldn’t admit as much out loud, Mitch loved these domestic moments. His favorite was probably changing the sheets because that almost invariably led to them trying to get the new covers smudged almost as soon as they put them down, but any household task they performed together filled him with more joy than the simple job warranted. Which was one of the reasons they rarely used the dishwasher for the two plates and one or two pots they used most days.

  “Okay?” Mitch placed the plate in the kitchen cabinet and glanced at Cian. The suppressed excitement in Cian’s voice intrigued him.

  “I went and joined a rugby club this afternoon.”

  “Nice one.”

  “Yeah,” Cian continued, the elation in his voice growing more pronounced. “I missed it. But joining a new club after coming out”—he shrugged—“I just couldn’t do it.”

  That made perfect sense to Mitch. Whenever one of his fellow students asked him about his partner, he found himself hesitating and assessing the person before revealing Cian’s name and gender. “So what changed?”

  “I discovered there’s an inclusive rugby club here in Dublin. They’re called The Emerald Warriors, and this afternoon I joined.”

  “Inclusive?” Mitch wasn’t sure what that meant. Inclusive of what?

  Excitement shone from Cian’s eyes. “As in it’s a team that welcomes players who are gay, or trans, or otherwise queer.” He chuckled. “Even straight people are welcome.”

  A gay rugby team. Mitch’s mind zoomed in on the word. He wasn’t at all surprised Cian wanted to play rugby again. He’d watched him compete when he was on the school team back in Castleforest. Cian had not only been good at it but also had always come across as thoroughly enjoying himself on the field. But a team made up of gay men… Mitch pushed the thought away, hoping the action would also take care of the discomfort cramping his stomach, and summoned up a smile.

  “Sounds perfect,” he said. “You must be excited.”

  Cian’s smile lit up his face. “You bet I am. I can’t wait to start playing again. I wonder where I put my old gear.” He pulled the plug, draining the water from the sink, and walked away.

  Mitch placed the last pot back in the cabinet before he followed Cian, berating himself for not being more enthusiastic about Cian’s revelation. Cian’s delight was obvious, and Mitch felt like a dick because he wasn’t able to fully share in that. He wasn’t even sure where his reservations came from, except that the idea of his boyfriend in a scrum with men who might all be attracted to him—and Mitch had yet to meet a person who didn’t find Cian attractive—made his stomach squeeze. He didn’t look forward to spending less time together either. They’d fallen into a nice and comfortable routine since they’d both started classes, and this development was bound to mess that up.

  The bedroom no longer resembled the neat place Mitch had left an hour earlier. Despite the confusing emotions keeping him on edge, Mitch couldn’t help smirking and shaking his head in mock despair at the two bags on top of their bed and a collection of shorts, shirts, and other, less easy to identify objects scattered across the floor.

  “Can’t find what you’re looking for?” he asked, not trying to hide his amusement.

  Cian glanced up at Mitch, inspected his surroundings, and had the grace to grimace and flush. “Sorry about that. I’ll fix it in a min.” He glared at the various items of clothing on the floor, then bent and picked something up. “Gottcha.”

  “What’s that?” Mitch squinted at the item consisting more of connected bands of material than solid pieces. He thought he recognized it but didn’t want to hazard a guess and make a fool of himself.

  “A jockstrap.” Cian slung one strap over his index finger and swung the piece of underwear around.

  “Jockstrap, hey?” Excitement heated Mitch’s blood. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen one of those up close and personal.”

  Cian glanced at him, his gaze intense. “I’ll be right back.”

  Mitch watched, bemused, as Cian hurried into the bathroom. When Cian returned, moments later, Mitch’s bemusement turned into pure, hot lust when he noticed how well the jock’s pouch encased Cian’s package. “Nice.”

  Cian turned on the spot, giving Mitch his first sight of Cian’s bare arse, framed by black straps.

  “Very nice.” Mitch didn’t try to hide the heat in his voice. He approached Cian, who had come full circle and faced him again. Wrapping his arms around Cian’s middle, he grabbed both cheeks with his hands and squeezed. “Is there a rule saying you can only wear this when you’re on the field?”

  Cian chuckled. “I guess you’re on board with the rugby idea, then?”

  Doubts and fears tried to worm their way back into Mitch’s thoughts, but he shrugged them off, concentrating on the familiar and wholly enticing feel of Cian’s naked butt. Pressing closer to his boyfriend, he smiled as the hard bulge of Cian’s erection pressed into his tummy.

  “I’m never going to complain about seeing or feeling more of your arse,” he muttered, very aware of his own rock-hard cock tenting the material of his loose trousers.

  “I created a monster,” Cian said before claiming Mitch’s mouth in a heated kiss. He pushed him backward until they tumbled to the bed, their lips never losing contact. Two soft thuds indicated the two bags had bounced off the bed, but Mitch barely registered the noise, too lost in Cian’s mouth and the hungry interaction between their tongues.

  “You’re overdressed,” Cian murmured before hurriedly removing Mitch’s clothes. He tugged on his dick, and Mitch lost himself in Cian’s body. As white-hot need rushed through his veins, Mitch couldn’t remember why he had been concerned about Cian’s rugby team or what had triggered the thoughts in the first place.

  “I want to fuck you.” He gasped the words at Cian, fully aware this was something they rarely did and that it was the first time he’d verbalized the desire.

  “Let me guess,” Cian said, his voice heated. “You’d like me on my knees, with my arse in the air so you can see the straps while you ride me.”

  Before Mitch could reply, Cian turned on the bed and presented himself exactly as he’d suggested. The sight took Mitch’s breath away, and for a few moments all he could do was stare at the sheer beauty and incredible hotness of Cian’s well-formed backside. When Cian reached behind him and pulled his cheeks apart, Mitch moaned softly.

  “Hey!” Cian glared at Mitch over his shoulder. “This arse isn’t going to fuck itself.”

  The joke, expressed in a needy tone of voice, was exactly what Mitch needed. He pulled the tube of lube from the bedside table and squeezed some onto his fingers before making short work of preparing Cian for the coming invasion.
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  It wasn’t long before Cian was pushing back, trying to fuck himself on Mitch’s fingers, and Mitch took it as a sign. He withdrew his hand, squeezed more lube onto it, and spread it across his cock, grateful they’d decided to forgo condoms shortly after moving in together. Since they were a couple and exclusive as well as each other’s first, they’d agreed to do without the protection.

  Fighting his need, Mitch eased his way into the narrow heat. Cian seemed eager enough, but that didn’t change the fact that he rarely bottomed. When the full length of his dick was buried deep inside Cian, Mitch rested, pressing his lips to Cian’s shoulder while their bodies adjusted.

  “Will you get a move on.” Cian wiggled his arse, stressing his impatience.

  “Your wish…” Mitch didn’t waste any more time on words and pulled back, only to immediately slide into Cian again, relishing the hot grip the tight hole had on his straining cock. He’d forgotten how good this was.

  “Fuck, yeah,” Cian groaned. “You feel so good.”

  “You too,” Mitch said, struggling for breath. “So tight. This won’t take long.”

  He moved faster, pushing in and out of Cian with more force. Already he could feel the telltale tingle in his balls, and he struggled to fight his impending explosion, to extend the pleasure for a few more moments. Cian enthusiastically moving with him intensified every penetration, which didn’t help at all.

  When his orgasm hit, Mitch felt it in every inch of his body. Cian’s arse contracting around his erupting cock only enhanced Mitch’s climax. It wasn’t until he’d shot the last drop of cum that Mitch realized he’d completely ignored Cian’s dick and even failed to release it from its pouch.