CHAPTER 8

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"Christ, I'm bursting," John groaned. They'd made it most of the way to the docks, but now his bladder was crying for attention. Well it was bound to happen, wasn't it? It was a surprise it had taken this long, really. They were taking a detour which was twice as long but would get them to the docks twice as fast. After all: much of the city centre was closed off so the parade could pass unobstructed, meaning there was far less space for a far bigger crowd than usual. They'd be crawling at a snail's pace!

Thing was, though, that the businesses in the outskirts had all these ludic ideas to liven up the quieter streets. Several bars offered free shots to passers-by, and far be it from John to pass up on free alcohol. He was starting to feel a bit looser. By no means drunk, not even tipsy even, but just... Relaxed. Anyway, wherever they went now was going to be crowded, no matter what. And John didn't want to end up stuck in a mass of people when he was no longer able to hold it in. With his luck, he'd be miles from the nearest loo (or wall, or tree) when that happened. "Let's find a bog before I piss myself."

Paul was glad John mentioned it because he was fearing he might have an unfortunate accident soon. "Let's go there," he suggested, pointing at a nearby bar that had enough urinals to make sure whatever queue might be there, would move along quickly. "We can get something to eat at the Greek place across the street." For some unknown reason, the restaurant he indicated served all manner of things that weren't Greek at all.

Surprisingly, it wasn't even that bad. They had to elbow themselves through a bit of a dense crowd, but they could make it to the toilets nearly uninterrupted. All the better, John reckoned. Now that he was there, the few seconds it took to unzip felt like an eternity, and he found himself bouncing up and down rather awkwardly, praying he wouldn't wet himself two feet from the bowl. That would just be too embarrassing. Thankfully, he managed to hold it in, and the intense relief he felt when he was able to let go was pure bliss.

A long, contented sigh escaped him when the first stream hit the porcelain. It seemed to go on forever, and ever, and ever, and... Christ, now he was bored, and the piss was still flowing. Next to him, Paul was still going strong, too. He wondered who'd dry up first. And then a completely different thought entered his mind without knocking... Maybe he could steal a glance? It was an unspoken rule that you never looked at the person pissing next to you, but John was nothing if not defiant, and besides, what would it hurt to have a peek? You know, strictly for comparison, not because he wanted to see Paul's naughty bits. Well. Maybe that, too...

"Eyes front, Lennon," Paul chided once he caught John's badly concealed sidelong glance.

"They are!" John guffawed loudly when Paul slid the sunglasses to the end of his nose and cast him a withering glare over the top of the frames. "Well, they were. I never turned my head, did I?"

Sighing heavily, Paul shook himself off and headed for the row of sinks at the other end of the room. "You know, I'm really starting to have second thoughts about us being mates. I mean, if the competition starts this early on, what does that say about the future?"

"You're just upset because I'm bigger than you," John chuckled. He hadn't actually been able to catch a glimpse, but Paul didn't know that!

"As if!" Shaking his head in bemusement, Paul reached for the paper towels, only to find himself being blocked by a bloke who clearly wanted something from him. Not an unattractive one either, if you liked that type. You know, ones that looked like they belonged on a rugby field. Bit old, though: at least a decade older than him, he guessed. Slightly annoyed, Paul tried to find a way past the obstacle. "Excuse me, mind if I pass?"

Rather than step aside, the man moved right back in front of Paul again. He was too tall and too wide to simply push aside. What's more, Paul had no interest in starting a row, so he shifted his weight and shot the guy a look which was meant to say 'what the fuck do you want?' even though he half knew the answer to that. "Hey there. Are you here by yourself? Because if you are, you don't have to be." Christ, he sounded like a rugby player, too. Australian, and all that. Bloody tosser...

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