Page 38 of Pitch Prince

17

Chapter Seventeen - Callum

I couldn’t bring myself to hold a candle for Cardiff in quite the same way I did Edinburgh. The city was nice enough, sure, but it didn’t have Edinburgh’s picturesque peaks and the castle wasn’t on top of a sleeping volcano, so that lost it some cool points.

I stepped off the train at Cardiff’s Central Station and made my way down Westgate Street toward the two stadia that dominated the centre of the city - the Millennium Stadium in all its glory and the smaller Arms Park as an extension at its side.

As far as Rhys was concerned, I wasn’t due down for another couple of days. Sarah had insisted on taking the kids early this weekend so that they could go and watch a new film she’d been dying to see, and I had used the chance to sneak out of Scotland and to the little capital city in Wales. It had taken almost ten hours on the train and I was aching, but the walk helped to clear my head. Unemployed life had been great so far with the kids to entertain me but I knew without them I needed to find something to do.

So I’d decided on surprising my boyfriend, and getting the added pleasure of getting to watch him play his Saturday evening game. It had been three weeks since he’d left Edinburgh and I was aching to see him in the flesh. Being closeted and being in a long distance relationship were two things that were playing hell with my emotions.

“One terrace ticket, please,” I said at the ticket office. I noticed the exact second in which the lady recognised me by the sudden widening of her eyes. She passed me the ticket with a vacant smile.

I stopped by the club shop to buy myself a scarf. I considered buying myself one for the South African side that they were playing but decided that would get me in too much trouble with him, so I stuck with actually supporting his team. I grabbed myself a pint from the bar and headed out to take my place in the stands.

The Arms Park was old-fashioned in a way that some saw as becoming outdated but that I saw as old-school cool in a way that most stadiums couldn’t hope to be. They’d retained their terraced stands in some places rather than seats and I leaned on the metal bar as the stadium steadily filled up around me. It was early October, and things were already getting a little colder in the evenings. I was glad I had a pint of lager to warm my belly.

A couple of people noticed me and asked for photos, and I was as nice as possible in letting them get some good snaps. I was recognised much less here than I was in Edinburgh - people supported their country’s stars more than anything else and once everyone’s attention turned to the game I could blend in with the rest of the crowd.

When the team ran out I was shocked to see Finn amongst them. He looked a little bit drawn even from afar and I could see he wasn’t as alert as usual. Losing the Lions spot had really done a number on him.

When Rhys ran out, the crowd went wild. He was their new Welsh prince and he was by far the squad’s biggest draw. He’d come so far from a guy who was so excited to get on the pitch for Wales just seven months ago. I realised it had been almost a year since a major injury had almost taken him out. I wouldn’t guess it now from his performance. He dodged and weaved other players when he had the ball, barely allowing anyone to get a tackle in on him. And when the opposition had the ball his speed let him get hit after hit in on any player. He was made for rugby.

When the game ended with a storming victory for Cardiff, I was one of the first on the pitch to greet the players and shake their hands. Some greeted me like an old friend and some with suspicion or hostility — since my retirement I’d been linked with coaching some Scottish teams in the Premiership, and it must have looked to some of the players here like I was spying or ready to poach them.

It was a few minutes before the crowd of fans around Rhys thinned enough that I could see him and he could see me. As soon as he caught my eye his face split into a grin, and he waved off the fans as politely as he could before walking up to me. There was a moment of awkwardness as he assessed what we could do in public, but I reached out my arms and pulled him into a smelly hug. He smelled of sweat and mud and grass, and his hair was soaked from perspiration and rolling around on the ground. But he was my Rhys, in my arms. Very few things made me happier.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, pulling away from the hug to take some more selfies with fans who didn’t even seem to register I existed. “I thought you weren’t coming down for days!”

“Kids are with Sarah,” I said. “And I wanted to watch you play.” I watched as a blush ran up Rhys’ tanned skin and he cleared his throat. “I’ll meet you at the flat?”

Rhys nodded and I headed out to the main road, treading slowly to reach the front door to Rhys’ block of flats. A couple of fans in scarves and hats nodded and smiled to me as they passed, and a couple of people honked loud vuvuzelas. I knew Rhys would be a little while so I stood under the eaves of the front door and warmed my hands by rubbing them together. When he finally rounded the corner in a hoodie it took everything I had not to throw myself at him.

“C’mon,” he muttered, his hand briefly brushing mine as he walked past me. “I’ve missed you and…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence because I felt it too. That shiver of energy than ran between us whenever we touched that I missed since leaving the rugby field. Rhys gave me energy like seventy-thousand roaring fans in the stand. And he was all mine.

I followed him up the stairs. The corridor was dark and no one was around. Before he could et the key in the lock I was at his back, nipping at the smooth exposed skin of his neck and leaving tiny marks as I explored the front of his body with my hands.

Rhys leaned back into me even as his hand shook with trying to get the key in the lock. “What if someone sees?” he asked.

“Then let them see,” I said. But I held back to let him get the key in the lock. I didn’t really want this to be my public outing.

As soon as the door was open we practically fell through it and Rhys’ mouth was on mine in seconds. I slammed the door shut with my heel and started clawing at the bottom of his hoodie to bring it over his head. I wanted my hands on his body and I wanted that yesterday.

He hissed as my freezing cold hands found the skin at the small of his back. I pushed him through the bedroom door and onto the bed, finally pulling off his t-shirt so that he was blissfully naked from the waist up in front of me.

I yanked at his jeans to bring them down and his boxers came with them even as he shucked off his shoes. There were clothes littering the floor and I hadn’t even started undressing yet. I kissed down his body to his leaking cock, giving an quick lick before I lowered myself to bring his jeans over his ankles so that he was completely naked.

I stood back to appraise his naked body, urgency gone now I had what I wanted in front of me. I unbuttoned my coat slowly and let it and the scarf drop to the floor. Rhys’ eyes followed it and I let my jumper and t-shirt follow suit. All that was left to do was remove the lower half of my garments.

I wanted to extend the tension of the situation, so I turned away from him as I took off my shoes and socks and lowered my jeans and pants. I yelped in the most unmanly way as I felt a sharp pain on my arse cheek, then turned to face Rhys. “Did you just bite me?” I asked.

“You were taking a long time and your arse looks good. Makes me want to reconsider bottoming tonight.”

I tackled him to the bed. “Your arse is mine tonight, boy. Any other time I’d be up for it.” I said it with more confidence than I felt. Other than the odd experimental finger I hadn’t ever done much in the way of preparing myself for a future of bottoming. I’d presumed from porn dynamics that I’d always end up topping. But the thought of bottoming for Rhys was…interesting.

I kissed him again before moving down to his smooth neck, and then to his chest. Rugby had left him with bruises and I made sure to kiss each one in turn as I worked my way down his body til I was kneeling on the floor in front of him. I teased at the head of his cock with my tongue before kissing down the side of his stomach, my cheek rubbing against his cock as my mouth moved closer to his legs. I might have been pretty new to the world of gay sex, but something about being with Rhys just made it feel instinctual, primal. I knew how to make myself feel good and by extension it wasn’t so difficult to figure out what made Rhys tick.

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