Page 27 of Brat on the Ball

“I’m not that good,” he protested.

“I know you’re that good. I watched you play, remember?”

“Did you know who I was, in the club?” asked Ollie. “Is that why you came to watch?”

“Nope. I got dragged along by some mates of mine,” I said. “I think my stomach dropped out of my body when I saw you, and they knew it.”

Ollie stiffened. “They won’t say anything, will they?”

“No, love. You haven’t kept up much with Welsh rugby, have you? We’re a very queer-inclusive space nowadays. Finn’s partner Nathan is great, and I used to play with another gay guy who lives in Scotland with his boyfriend now, the ones I mentioned earlier.”

“That must be nice,” said Ollie. “Football clubs and fans can be absolute cunts about it all.”

“I’ve heard,” I said. “I wrote about it recently, actually.”

“Youare the blogger I’ve been following? Jesus Christ, it’s like there’s something dragging us together,” said Ollie. “I loved your blog about coming out in sport. It’s how I feel.”

My heart thumped irregularly against my ribcage, and I hoped he hadn’t noticed. “You mean you want to come out at some point?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’ve got my plans…it’s just hard to say, even out loud to myself. Let alone out to the world. And I don’t know if I’m ready to be a role model. So your blog struck a chord with me.”

“I’m glad it could help,” I said, as casually as I could. The thought of Ollie coming out had sent a thrill through me. Like an obstacle between us had been removed, and I could see a bright and shining future. I snorted.

“What’s funny?” Ollie asked.

“Nothing, just thinking about how weird it is that two gay sportsmen living so close to one another never hooked up through Grindr,” I lied. Because in reality, I was getting all moon-eyed about a future with a man whose name I had only learned days earlier.

“I’m not on any of that,” he said. “Too risky.”

“You could just be another headless profile,” I teased, running one finger up his chest, across his nipple, and then across the network of love bites I’d left on his collarbone and upper chest. “This smooth skin would have the men battering down your door.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

“What?” The question had taken me by surprise.

“Do you want me sampling all the delights out there? Or do you want me to keep coming back to you?”

I hesitated. I knew thegenuineanswer. That I wanted Ollie all to myself. But that sounded insane. Like I could ever want more than a quick fling with a guy so insecure he hadn’t come out. Like I could ever want anything more than a quick fling,anyway. I was a serial fucker. So why was I feeling so warm and fuzzy about the guy laying in my arms?

“George?” asked Ollie. “You zoned out there.”

“I…you do what you want,” I said with little conviction. “I don’t own you.”

Ollie shifted to face me better. “So the love bites, the notes at the club…none of those are in any way meant to stop me or anyone else from doing anything?”

I hesitated. “…guilty,” I managed. “I…like you. And I don’t want you getting hurt by some idiot who only cares about getting off. I mean, I want to get off. Obviously. But with you I…” I tailed off, trying to finish the sentence without it sounding lame.

“I get it,” Ollie said. “But for the record, as long as you want to do what we did today at some point again, I will not be downloading Grindr, or Tinder, or any of that stuff. OK?”

“OK,” I said. I leaned over to the coffee table and grabbed my phone. I held down the Grindr app until it wobbled, then deleted it. “Me too. But the second you decide you wanna go elsewhere, just let me know. I don’t want to be strung along.”

“OK,” said Ollie. “Sounds good.” He tucked his head under my armpit and laid there peacefully as I stroked up and down his back. I realised after a second that his breathing had shifted lower and deeper. With him asleep, I let my eyes wander his body. That smooth, pale skin, almost hairless except for his happy trail, pubes and a smattering of light hairs across his arse. His face, so young and unmarked.

I understood then why so many people craved intimacy when I’d mostly avoided it except for aftercare. It brought us closer without talking. It made me want to understand him, to know him more. I wanted to introduce him to Finn, Nathan, the whole team. It made me want to be less of an all-round grumpy sod for him.

I grabbed my phone and snapped a picture. Nothing revealing or identifying, just the top of his head resting against my chest, and sent it to Finn.

George: Score. Keeping him.

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