Chapter 2

“God,” Gary said again. He remained rooted to the spot, just inside the room.

Raw smiled and held out his arms. “Not exactly, but I knew you liked this kit. I’m surprised I managed to fit into it.”

Gary shook his head. “You’re still the same size you were three years ago.”

Raw had remained a steady one hundred and ten kilograms for the past three seasons, and probably before that, too. Gary knew this because he’d built and still maintained Raw’s website which contained every possible statistic about Littleborough’s loose forward and goal kicker. Gary could quote every one of those statistics when asked, and tried hard not to when he wasn’t.

Raw tilted his head to one side and regarded Gary quizzically. “You’re quiet.”

Swallowing yet again—maybe he should have had one of those Tums after all—Gary said, “You’re…you’re…” He wanted to say ‘You’re a god,’ but for once he was shy. So he shut his mouth.

“Gar?” Raw approached the newly-minted eighteen-year-old and put a huge hand on his shoulder. “You okay? We don’t have to do this if you don’t—”

“Kiss me!” Now and again Gary had sneaked a kiss to Raw’s cheek, but Raw would never reciprocate, not even on birthdays or at Christmas, saying it wasn’t appropriate.

Raw smiled, showing off his dimple again. As soon as he cupped Gary’s face, Gary stopped breathing. When their faces drew to within centimetres of each other, Gary found himself closing his eyes, even though he wanted to keep a visual record of every second of the encounter.

A waft of warm minty breath was almost immediately followed by soft but firm lips touching his. The kiss only lasted a second, but it was the most wonderful second of Gary’s short life.

Withdrawing, Raw said, “You’re shaking. You sure you’re all right?”

“Hold me.”

Raw did, and Gary immediately felt calmer. Resting his head on Raw’s oh-so-broad right shoulder, Gary apologised. He hated that he was coming across like a stupid idiot.

Raw gave him a squeeze. And with a man with muscles the size of Raw’s, Gary wasn’t going anywhere until he let go. Unfortunately that came all too soon for Gary’s liking.

He hated himself for asking, but couldn’t help it. “Can I have another kiss?”

Raw rubbed the back of Gary’s head. “Sure, whatever you want. This is your day, remember?”

Gary nodded. This time he managed to keep his eyes open, but because of the close proximity he couldn’t see much. He could feel plenty however. Raw hadn’t shaved that morning. Gary lifted his hands and ran them along Raw’s high cheekbones, down the sides of his face, across his chin to his goatee. He’d tried to grow one just like it once, but after a few days of not shaving what had grown had looked stupid so he’d got rid of it.

When Raw’s tongue teased at Gary’s lips, Gary immediately opened up to allow it admittance. But Raw just swept his tongue along Gary’s teeth before withdrawing. Gary shuddered and rested his head back on Raw’s shoulder, not brave enough to French Raw back.

Sighing, he said, “The bar’s just been set.”

Gary could feel more than hear Raw’s chuckle. “So, I’m the best kisser you’ve had so far, am I?”

“You’re the only kisser I’ve had.” Silently he added, or want to have.

“Huh?” Raw pulled away and Gary immediately missed the contact. “You’ve been with other boys. I said you should mess around with boys your own—”

Gary shook his head. “And I told you I didn’t need or want to mess around because I’d found the one I wanted.”

“But…but we had that conversation years ago, when you were just a kid.”

“It was three years, two months and four days ago,” Gary told him. “I told you then, and I’m telling you again now, I know what I want.”

Shocked, Raw said, “I hope that statistic isn’t on my website.”

Gary solemnly shook his head. “Raw, I’d never do anything that would hurt you or your career.”

Raw swallowed. “Sorry, mate. I know you wouldn’t. I’m just beginning to realise how much you care.”

Gary shut his eyes; he couldn’t look at Raw, in case there was anything negative in the man’s expression. “I care more than you know.”

Gary felt himself crushed into another hug. Then he received kiss number three. This time he felt confident enough to explore the inside of Raw’s mouth. The man’s mouth—like the rest of him—was big, powerful, strong.

“Call me Neil,” Raw whispered once Gary had retracted his tongue. “No one, apart from Mum and Dad, calls me Neil.”

Gary nodded, feeling honoured. Maybe Raw…uh…Neil was finally seeing him for the responsible adult Gary hoped he was becoming.