Chapter Twenty-Seven
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Mason
Today hadn’t gone the way I’d expected, but then again none of the best days ever did.
When I’d woken up that morning, I hadn’t thought I’d be going to bed with Ryan climbing in beside me in his faded Batman T-shirt and boxers. And I definitely hadn’t imagined him being my boyfriend. I’d thought it would take me a lot longer to get my fucking act together and actually ask him, but sometimes all these things took was a little nudge.
Which in this case was a potential concussion, a three-inch cut on my forehead from a boot stud, and needing someone at home to keep an eye on me. I was still convinced I didn’t have a concussion but if it meant I got to have Ryan sleeping next to me, I’d take it.
We’d never shared a bed at night before because we’d been worried about being caught by Jonny, but now things were out in the open, we could do this whenever we wanted.
“How’re you feeling?” Ryan asked as he slid in next to me, his eyes roaming over me with concern.
“Tired, but that’s normal. Sore, but that’s also normal. Horny…” I winked at him as I rolled onto my side and slowly ran my fingers up his bare thighs, caressing the heated skin. Ryan shot me a disapproving look and reached down to remove my hand from his thigh.
“Nice try, but no. I’m not fucking you if you’re concussed.”
“But I’m not.”
“Still a no,” he said, shuffling further down in the bed and leaning in to kiss me. “I’m not going to be the reason you suffer any sort of brain injury.”
I sighed and said half-jokingly, “You realise this is kind of a regular thing for a man in my line of work? My whole job revolves around me throwing myself at other huge men and tackling them to the floor.”
“I know,” he said quietly, putting his arm on my chest and pushing me onto my back so he could snuggle in close and look down at me. “And I’m always going to worry about you. But that’s on me, not you. I know you’ll be as safe as you can. Besides, I can’t tell you how to live your life. You love rugby and I’m never going to take that away from you.”
There was a lot of certainty in his words, which stilled my heart. Not unpleasantly, but more like I couldn’t believe anyone would speak with so much certainty about me. Even in my longest relationship, there’d always been an underlying sense that we both had one foot out the door, especially towards the end, because we’d both wanted different things.
I’d grown a lot since then and started to realise things about myself. Not just that I was queer, but that there were all these facets to myself that I’d never explored—the protective side, the nerdy side, the caring side that meant I’d fight tooth and nail for anyone I loved, and the side that was totally, hopelessly, in awe of Ryan.
I remembered watching The Addams Family films with my sisters growing up and always wondered why Gomez acted the way he did with Morticia. It had never seemed possible to be that in awe of someone or that in love with them, to want to worship the very ground they walked on and scream their accomplishments to the sky for everyone to hear. To have them look at you, to see you, cherish you, and to know that you’d do anything for them… it’d all sounded like bollocks to me.
But then I’d seen the way that West was with Rory, watched them struggle to find their footing in the midst of some anti-drag bullshit and their difference in backgrounds, and seen them come out the other side so much stronger. I’d seen the way West watched Rory on stage, how he talked about Bubblegum’s accomplishments, and the way Rory came to every match, even if he was still half in drag from brunch.
I’d seen West’s brother, Theo, and his fiancé, Laurie, together and the way they looked at each other would put the best romance novels to shame. It was like they believed the other had hung the fucking moon .
Then there was Clive and his husband, Alan, who he’d slowly started bringing around the club more, who’d made me realise that love could go on and on despite all the hardships of the world. And my oldest sister with her second husband, who was proof that love could come from the weirdest circumstances—he’d met my sister in the park when he’d helped rescue my niece’s stuffed zebra from the duck pond and fallen in—but completely change your life.
And now when I looked at Ryan, I felt so many things I didn’t even know how to process, let alone explain. I knew we hadn’t been doing this long but we’d been friends for a while and over the past few weeks it had quickly morphed into something more.
Maybe it was too early to say anything, especially since we’d literally started dating less than six hours ago, but it wasn’t like we’d only just met.
“Can I ask you something?” I said, tilting my head slightly to look down at Ryan. The angle was a little awkward but it’d work for now.
“Yeah, of course.”
“This is all kinda new for us, technically at least, the physical bit and the friendship less so, but… how’re you feeling?”
He smiled at me softly. “Good. Very good. Better than good, actually. Better than I’ve felt in a long time.” He kissed the top of my chest, his fingers drawing lazy circles across my stomach. “The way you make me feel, Mason… I don’t know how to describe it. It feels like I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, and now you’re here, and I can breathe properly for the first time. There’s something about yo u that makes me feel like I can always be myself, even the bad bits like when I’m tired and cranky and having a bit of a sensory overload and even my skin feels wrong.”
“If you do feel like that, you’ll have to tell me how to help,” I said. “Even if it’s just giving you some space and not touching you.”
“See, this is why you’re special,” he said, leaning up to kiss me. “You get me. Every little piece of me, including the drag and the hyperfixations and the fact that I’ll always prefer tabletop RPGs to video games.”
I chuckled softly. “All those things are wonderful, even if you don’t think they are.”
“Thank you.” He kissed me again. “I know on paper we seem so different but I don’t think we are.”
“I don’t think so either. We get each other. And it’s good to have different interests.”
“Especially when those interests involve tight shorts.”
“And latex bodysuits and thigh-high boots,” I said with a wink.
“Both of us have amazing bodies and it would be wrong not to show them off,” Ryan said. “And shorts should always be slutty. It’s, like, the law. Always ask yourself, could they be sluttier?”
I snorted. “I’m not sure how the team would feel about me wearing slutty shorts in the gym. Although…” I thought for a second then laughed. “Half of them would probably join in and turn it into a competition about whose shorts are the sluttiest.”
“I’m not seeing a problem with this.”
“I am! I have to work with those assholes. ”
He chuckled. “Clearly, you and I have very different colleagues. Drag dressing rooms are much more open. Nothing is sacred.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, trust me. The things I’ve heard would make your ears bleed, but we all pretty much treat it as being under a cone of silence.”
“That’s nice,” I said. “Rugby dressing rooms can be toxic as fuck sometimes—the Knights is better, though. Mostly because we’ve gotten rid of the dickheads and we’ve tried to stamp out the alpha bullshit or demeaning shit. Matty’s actually introduced a whole fine system after it kinda came out that there’d been some microaggressive biphobia directed at West—just shit like asking him about sex with men versus women and what he preferred.”
“Seriously?” Ryan asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah, he started it this year when Guy was still around.” Guy was our ex-housemate who’d always been a bit of a knob but things had escalated at the end of last year when he’d said some truly appalling shit to Rory and West. West had literally picked him up and threatened to end him, and not long after that he’d moved out and at the end of the season, he’d left the Knights. I didn’t miss him, but I did still feel guilty because there’d always been signs in Guy’s behaviour that he was a massive cunt, but I’d never said anything and that was on me.
I’d had a word with Clive afterwards and I thought West had done the same because neither of us felt comfortable playing with him, and not long after that Clive and Matty had really heavily stamped down on behaviour in the dressing room.
I wanted to say it was better late than never, but it did make me wonder how many men had been made uncomfortable in dressing rooms over the years. And how many times I’d chosen to look the other way.
All I could do was vow to be better in future.
I told Ryan some of that and then said, “It’s kind of nice now. We’re seeing a little more of who some of the guys are rather than who they think they should be. Some of them are still really blokeish and idiotic, but there’s less ripping the shit out of people for actually liking their wives or girlfriends or wanting to spend time with them. And it’s more supportive if people are having a shit day. I think… a lot of really masculine spaces need that openness.”
“I think they do too,” Ryan said. “You always hear stuff about men keeping their problems to themselves because of all that ‘toxic masculine, men aren’t supposed to have feelings’ bullshit.”
“Exactly and I don’t want to work in a place like that. If we can just make one man feel safe, then that’s worth it.”
“I’m proud of you,” Ryan said with a smile, leaning down to kiss me.
“Yeah, well, it’s the least I can do.” I felt my face heating slightly. I hadn’t told him this because I wanted praise, but it was still nice to tell someone. And I wanted him to know that the people I worked with would be safe for him to be around. I wanted to be able to introduce Ryan to them without fear that one of them would be a dick. Although there was still a good chance that one of them, probably Danny, would say something inappropriate. Danny seemed to suffer from the worst continual case of foot in mouth I’d ever seen.
“You’ll have to come backstage at The Court at some point,” Ryan said. “I want you to meet everyone. Although fair warning, our dressing room is never tidy and always full of snacks.”
“I’ll bring sweets then,” I said. “It’ll be the entrance price.”
“Done.” They kissed me again and then sighed happily, snuggling into my side. “You know, we should go out at some point.”
“We should. I want to take you on an actual date, just the two of us. Maybe get some dinner, go see a film. Or would that be too cheesy?”
“I am always down for dinner and a movie. It’s a classic. Although how do you feel about mini golf?”
“I suck at it. The putters are always too small for me.”
He gasped dramatically, a wicked smile on his face. “Does this mean I might actually be able to beat you at it?”
“Maybe.” I grinned. “I guess we’ll just have to go and find out.”
“Done.” He trailed soft kisses down my neck, sending a shiver running through me. “What sort of food do you want?”
“I’m not really a fancy food kind of guy,” I said, trying to ignore the way my cock was chubbing up in my shorts. “Besides, fancy restaurants never do big enough portions. I’m not picky on cuisine, though. I’ll eat anything.” Ryan looked up and smirked at me, and I raised my eyebrow. “ Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. You said we’re not allowed to have sex and you’re winding me up.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You were thinking something, though.”
“Maybe, but that’s different.”
I hummed. “You’re trouble.”
“Yeah, but that’s why you like me.”
“It is,” I said, twisting my head and kissing him, savouring the feel of his lips against mine. I could feel exhaustion starting to tug at me, the familiar post-game ache in my muscles burning underneath. “Tomorrow… tomorrow, I want to fuck you. Or… I want… I want you to use me…” I yawned as I tried to get the rest of the words out.
“If you feel okay, then yes, I’m gonna have you inside me. Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.” Ryan kissed just under my chin as he buried himself in my arms. “You’re gonna be mine.”
“Yours, I like that,” I said sleepily, my thoughts starting to slip away in the warmth and cosiness of Ryan’s body pressed against mine. “I want to be yours.”