Page 30 of Pitch Prince

I veered to the blindside as he threw it to his fellow player, and I hit him hard as the ball touched his hands. I was playing dirty, but not illegally. I ripped the ball from him before he could get a good grip on it and left him in the dust. My unexpected move had broken through their offensive line, but their fastest players were already catching up. I ran as far as I could before I felt arms snake around my midriff and I was taken down hard into the dirt. I passed the ball quickly to one of our Irish players, who passed the ball to Callum, whose size let him break the grip of the one player that lunged for him. I scrambled to my feet in time to see him throw himself between the goalposts and over the try-line.

The crowd went wild. It was a majority home crowd for the Kiwis but the try was a fantastic one and one for the history books. With less than two minutes left on the clock we could comfortably draw out our kicking time and take home a win for the series. And I had been part of that.

The team came together on the pitch in a mass of limbs, muddy and gross but with a joy that ran through all of us. We were victorious. Suddenly I could see Callum, and we gave each other a slippery hug.

“You were brilliant,” he said. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

“You too,” I replied, before we were each pulled away into different huddles. Champagne was opened on the pitch and we shook hands with the All Blacks. This was everything I’d dreamed of.

Callum had been named Player of the Match by the TV channels, so I stood just to the side as the interviewer asked him questions about the match. Finally, the interviewer asked the question I knew Callum had been waiting for.

“So, captain of the Lions. What’s next for your career?”

“A well earned rest, I think. There’ll be no more rugby for me. I’ve given this game everything I have and to finish here…there’s no greater honour.” Callum smiled at the stunned interviewer and walked over to join me. I threw an arm around him as we walked toward the player tunnel and into the changing room.

“You’ve made it official now,” I said. “No take-backs.”

“I don’t want to take it back, these old bones are done.”

“Veryold bones.” I walked over to my changing spot and ripped off my sodden and muddy top. I was suddenly aware of how cold I was and ready to get in the hot shower. But I waited for Wesley’s grand entrance and speech. He deserved the moment. When he entered the room to cheering and foot stomping and champagne all over his expensive suit, he grinned at us all.

“We fucking did it boys!” he shouted, grabbing a bottle of champagne for himself and having a swig. Apparently, that was the extent of his speech. I pulled off the rest of my clothes and headed for the shower block. Instead of standing at the other end as he usually did, Callum joined me.

“I just cannae believe it,” he said, and I just nodded, determined not to look at him too much or think about what had happened between us. “We out to celebrate tonight?”

“I…” I suddenly didn’t know. All the other lads were talking about heading to the hotel bar for the celebration of a lifetime, but it all seemed suddenly very overwhelming. And without Finn, it almost didn’t feel right. “I think I need a minute in the room. To take it all in.”

“That I can agree on,” said Callum. He seemed to be done washing and stepped out of the shower to grab a towel. I let myself have just the one look as he walked away. His back was toned, and hair only started at his arse, which had a little bit of coverage before his legs took the bulk of the fur. He had bulky thighs and lean calves. He covered himself with a towel and I tore my eyes away, washing myself quickly before heading out to get dressed myself. Callum had dressed in his casual tracksuit and smiled at me. “I’ll see you back in the room, yeah?”

I nodded. I took my time getting changed, just soaking up the atmosphere of the win and the chatter around me. I wasn’t aware of how empty the changing room had gotten until someone tapped me on the shoulder and coughed lightly. It was Padraig, one of the Irish players, a handsome guy a little bit older than me with dark hair and ice-blue eyes. He leaned in close to my ear so that he could whisper. “I heard you mention you weren’t up for celebrating…if you wanted to take the celebration to my room, I’ll make sure my room-mate is out.”

He passed me a piece of paper and left. Unfolding it, I saw it had a phone number and room number. So I definitely wasn’t the only gay in the village. And the thought of getting some of the frustration I’d been feeling about Callum out with a willing volunteer was definitely nice. I packed the last of my kit into the bag and headed for the hotel, just across the road. Wesley hated all the ceremony that came with having a team bus and it was nice to freely walk the road from the stadium to the hotel. I pulled my hood up but waved to any New Zealand fans who did recognise me, and had a couple of pictures with the few British and Irish Lions fans who’d made the trip.

Callum was waiting in the room when I got there, on the phone to his kids from the sound of things. I gave him a smile before heading straight to the bathroom for some…additional preparation. If I was going to be meeting Padraig, I had no idea if he’d want to top, bottom or both. So it was best to be prepared. I texted Padraig to make sure I hadn’t completely misread his intentions.

When I went back into the main bedroom Callum was waiting for me. He had poured two glasses of whisky for us, and held one out for me. I joined him where he sat on the bed.

“To us,” he said.

“To us,” I echoed and knocked it back. Callum poured us each another from a familiar bottle. “Did you bring that from Wales?”

“Aye, I saved it for if we won. Or if we lost. Whisky is the perfect drink for commiserating or celebrating.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I checked it quickly.

Padraig: I’m up for whatever you’re up for, as long as it’s hard ;).

“What’s that?” asked Callum.

“Nothing.” I quickly flipped my phone away so that he couldn’t see the message. It wasn’t up to me to out Padraig. And I felt a little ashamed of Callum knowing I’d be hooking up.

“Did I see Padraig’s name there?” he asked. “I didn’t know you were friends.”

“I…we…” I groaned. “He offered to help me celebrate the win.”

“And by celebrate you mean…” Callum’s voice was quiet, but with his low tone even a whisper seemed to carry weight.

“Y’know, do stuff.”

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