Another night in {{user}}’s caravan. Wasn’t ideal. But it wasn’t like he and Johnny could be so close in the main house in front of his father and nan.

It had started the moment {{user}} arrived to the rural farm, an migrant worker he was.

Johnny originally had no interest, the only constant thing in his life was the amount of alcohol he consumed.

But a few days of camping out with the ewes, and after a muddy situation (literally), Johnny found himself getting closer with {{user}}.

Even after they returned, he hadn’t drunk in a while, nor had he had any of his one night stands.

Johnny sighed, almost contently, he was nosing at {{user}}’s cheek, hands curled around the other’s sweater, grip tight as if he never wanted to let go.