Playing Offside by Jax Calder
Aiden
I’d never been so glad for training camp to be over.
I couldn’t believe I’d slipped up like that and actually gotten off with a teammate. And not just any teammate. Tyler Bannings, of all people. The cocky upstart who didn’t even hide the fact he was eying my starting spot like it was a birthday cake with his name written on it.
Safely nestled back in my cottage, I replayed our encounter constantly.
The way he’d looked at me with lust-filled, hooded eyes, the little hitch in his breath, the intense look on his face as he came.
Yeah, jerking off to memories of the cocky rookie coming apart under my hands was not what the doctor ordered. Unless it was an extremely sadistic doctor who just wanted to screw with my head.
The first international test match loomed large on the horizon. It was against South Africa and was being played in the Cake Tin, the extremely circular stadium in the waterfront of Wellington, the capital city.
I’d watched Coach Wilson read out on TV the names of the test match team four days before the test. At least, because he did it alphabetically, I didn’t have to wait too long to be put out of my misery.
Tyler Bannings.
I knew I wasn’t going to be able to escape my mistake easily.
How difficult it was going to be to move past my slip-up was hammered home when I arrived at the hotel around midday the day before the test match to discover I was rooming with Tyler again.
Great. Nothing like a dose of awkwardness with a side helping of cringe.
I knew the players from Auckland had flown in that morning, and so when I opened the door of my hotel room, I was fairly certain about what I was about to find.
Sure enough, Tyler was sprawled out on the bed closest to the door as he scrolled through his phone.
“Hey, roomie,” he greeted me with a smug smirk. And fuck if I didn’t have a momentarily impulse to kiss that smirk off his face, to leave him breathless and panting. Because I was now acquainted with how good Tyler Bannings looked breathless and panting.
“Bannings.”
I chucked my bag on the spare bed and turned away so I didn’t have to look him in the eye.
“So, how you’ve been?” he asked.
I twisted back to face him. “Small talk? We’re doing small talk now?”
“I’m up for any other talk you want to do.” His voice had immediately dropped to a frequency that spoke directly to my groin, as evidenced by the fact my cock gave a twitch.
“I told you, we’re not doing that again.” I unzipped my bag with slightly more force than necessary.
“Yeah, don’t worry, I remember your lecture about it being a mistake.”
“I think it was a statement more than a lecture.”
He lent back on his pillows, looking relaxed. “It was an Aiden Jones lecture. Short. To the point. Quite chilly.”
“Yeah, I don’t care what you call it. As long as you got the message.”
A smile twisted on his face. “Unfortunately, as my teachers at school discovered, I can be a slow learner.”
“Lucky for you, I’m an incredibly good teacher.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Wait, are we still talking about sex?”
I snorted, and a golden smile spread across his face.
“We’re talking about the sex we’re not going to have,” I reminded him.
“Right. All that sex. A whole lot of steamy, sweaty, hot sex that we’re not having.”
He stretched out on his bed like a cat and licked his lips, turning them moist and pink. Combined with his heavy-lidded eyes and he was pretty much the start of my personal porn fantasy.
“Not happening.” The words were as much for me as they were for him.
“You know what they say—all’s well that ends well.”
“You and your bloody clichés.”
“I don’t see the point in reinventing the wheel.”
Oh god. Even I could admit my scoff was more than fifty percent chuckle.
His lips curled up, and his eyes danced in response. Seeming casual, he gently stroked a hand across his pec.
“Stop that,” I said.
“Stop what?” He gave a terrible attempt at an innocent look.
“Stop trying to tempt me.”
He shrugged. “I’m just here, being me. If you find that tempting, then that’s on you.”
“Although.” He sat up and peeled off his T-shirt in one easy motion, giving me full view of the smooth expanse of his chest. “I really think you should reconsider your ‘no hookup’ stance between us.”
My mouth went dry. God, he was gorgeous. “Oh yeah, why’s that?” I croaked.
He shrugged. “Just think it could be fun.”
I swallowed hard. “Oh, I have no doubt it would be fun, Bannings.”
“That’s right, the Ice King doesn’t do fun, right?” He pouted, his shiny lower lip poking out like an invitation for me to nip and bite.
I took a step back, my eyes narrowing. “Did that pout get you what you want when you were growing up?” I meant it in a mocking way, but a shadow passed over his face, muting the sunshine instantly.
He stared at me for a few seconds, before glancing away. “Not exactly.”
He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his chest, not meeting my gaze.
I blinked, surprised at how quickly his fun mood had died. It bothered me for some strange reason.
But I was more bothered by the fact that I had a weird desire to say something to change it back.
* * *
We hada light training scheduled that afternoon, which was more of a chance to interact with the fans than anything else.
Despite him being new to the team, Bannings was one of the most sought-after players by the crowd, with people scrambling to get a selfie with him.
Especially the female fans.
I felt a flash of sympathy as I saw him decline autographing across the top of a women’s breasts that were on full display in a low-cut top. This was his life now. I was sure even straight players got sick of women throwing themselves at them just because of the rugby celebrity thing, but it was worse being constantly enticed to drink when you didn’t even like the taste of the water.
Being gay in professional rugby was an extra burden. I knew it. I’d felt the weight of it on my shoulders for a long time now.
I’d been so hung up on my own reaction to my hook-up with Tyler, I hadn’t stopped to think about what it meant for him. How he was facing the next ten-plus years of being in the closet, terrified that at any point he was going to be exposed and attract the world’s media attention on his private life.
Bannings stayed until the end, happily using his long arms to take selfies, the grin on his face never wavering as he joked around with the crowd.
Personally, I’d always struggled with the face-to-face interactions. People seemed to expect so much, and I never felt like I lived up to their expectations. At least with a nickname the Ice King, no one expected excessive levels of friendliness.
Tyler ended up a few steps behind me as we walked off the field.
I deliberately slowed down to talk to him.
“You did good just now. You’re great with the fans.”
Tyler’s eyebrows shot up. An almost shy look came across his face, which was so unfamiliar I found myself blinking to check my vision.
“I know how important it is to them.” He looked down at the grass for a moment, then sent me a sideways glance. “You signed a jersey for me once.”
I almost stumbled. “I did?”
“Yep. Years and years ago.”
“Way to make me feel old.”
He sidled closer, lowering his voice. “You are old. I’m happy to feel you up to give an independent opinion, though.”
“Bannings,” I growled. And he laughed.
Somehow, laughter looked different on Tyler than it did on anyone else. It lit him up from the inside, like a light switch had been turned on.
My lips twitched, and I had to wrestle back the grin that was fighting to emerge.
His gaze flicked to my lips, and he smiled a little-boy smile, so different to the smirk he usually had plastered on his face.
Zach came up and slapped me on the back, shattering the moment. “How’s it going, Ice King? Did you manage to melt the hearts of your fans?”
“I’m fairly sure you’re mixing your metaphors there,” I said.
Tyler snorted, and Zach turned his attention to him, one eyebrow raised.
“Bannings. You ready for tomorrow?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Tyler replied. His talk was tough, but the way he gnawed on his lip gave away how nervous he was. And hell, it was to be expected. I’d freaked out before my first game for New Zealand, although I’d tried my hardest not to show it.
I couldn’t help giving him some advice. “You’ve got to remind yourself it’s just another rugby game. And you know how to play rugby. That’s why you were selected.”
“Listen to the Ice King. He knows what he’s talking about,” Zach said.
* * *
Match day.
The first test match of the season was always nerve-wracking.
There’s a lot at stake. The first game set the tone for the international season, gave the media a narrative to pursue. New guys wanted to prove their worth. Old guys wanted to prove they’d still got it.
It’s where the final bits of rust drop off, and CRC and oil was applied to the smoothly running machine that was the New Zealand rugby team.
And we were starting our season playing our most deadly foes—South Africa.
This was my seventy-eighth match, and my skin still prickled at the charge in the changing room, the tense faces around me as we listened to Coach Wilson’s pregame spiel.
I glanced over at Tyler. He was gulping down deep breaths, looking like he was trying to keep the contents of his stomach on the inside. He caught my eye, and I gave him a head nod, trying to communicate that I understood what he was feeling right now.
There’s nothing like running onto a New Zealand rugby ground when you’re playing for the national team. The cheers and stomps from the crowd saturating the air. Lights blazing, flames at the entrance flickering up, punctuating the night sky.
It was a calm night, the grass gleaming under the artificial lights.
The South African team were already on the field, and we joined them at the halfway line for the national anthems. Their national anthem was first, a rousing song incorporating five of the languages of South Africa. Then it was “God Defend New Zealand.”
Even standing there for the seventy-eighth time, it still choked me up as the words floated out over the speakers and the crowd joined in, first the Maori version and then in English.
Tyler was standing two people along from me, continuing to look green around the gills.
Once the national anthem was over, we moved into position for the haka, the traditional Maori war dance that was part of New Zealand rugby tradition as we laid down the challenge to our rivals.
Over the years, our opposing teams had moaned that it gave us an advantage as they had to just stand there watching while we got ourselves fired up.
And to be fair, there was something about moving through the familiar sequence of gestures, my mouth forming the words that countless New Zealand rugby players before me had chanted, that made my attention become laser-focused, driving all thoughts of Tyler out of my head.
This was me. This was everything.
After we finished the haka, I grabbed the ball for our kickoff. It was slightly damp under my fingers.
The referee blew the whistle, and my muscles tensed.
Time to play.
* * *
Sixty minutes in,we were up twenty-two points to ten, and I got the call to sub off.
Damn. There were still twenty minutes left to play. I’d kicked three penalties and a conversion already, all helping my total creep toward that magical 1600 points record.
But the coaching team obviously wanted to give Bannings a run.
I scanned the sidelines and saw him starting to run on, saw the tenseness in his shoulders, the stiffness in his gait that was so different to his usual confident fluidity.
I deliberately ran at any angle so I could intercept him.
“Good luck,” I huffed.
“Thanks.” His face was flushed. I could almost feel the potent cocktail of excitement and nerves rushing through him right now. The memory of the last time I’d seen Tyler’s face flushed with excitement didn’t sit well with me.
I clapped him on the shoulder briefly. “Remember, it’s just another game. You’ve got this. Go out there and kick ass.”
The cheers from the crowd swelled as he ran further on the pitch until they reached a crescendo. Already, in his first game, he was a crowd favorite.
My own test debut had been a bittersweet moment. Because the one person who it would’ve meant the most to hadn’t been there.
I forced the thought out of my mind as I grabbed a jacket to keep warm.
“Nice work out there,” Murray, the assistant coach, said to me.
“Thanks.”
I sat down on the bench next to Macca, hunching forward, bracing my arms on my knees, eager to see how Tyler would go.
I didn’t have to wait long.
First touch and he split the South African defense, sending them scrambling back desperately to defend at the twenty-two line.
My gut was like a cement mixer, churning with emotions. Pride that he was doing so well. Jealousy that I wasn’t the one out there doing it myself.
He got the ball again and did a flashy chip kick that unfortunately was gobbled straight up by the South African number fifteen. But Tyler followed up and nailed the fullback in a tackle that made his one that winded me look like a hug you’d give your grandmother.
“Bannings is playing like it’s his fiftieth test match, not his first,” Macca said.
“Yeah.” New Zealand rugby was all about the team-first mentality, so I should be happy about how well Tyler was going.
But as Tyler got the ball back after some great work by our forwards, did the best fake pass I’d ever seen, and then darted through a gap to dot the ball down under the goalposts, I found myself swallowing hard. He was making the step up to the international rugby stage look effortless.
Tyler converted his goal with a kick straight through the middle.
Five minutes later, the full-time whistle blew.
As we got into the dressing room, Tyler got his fair share of backslaps from our teammates.
He was glowing, looking like a Greek god sent down for us mortals to admire. My breath caught in my throat. He wasn’t just hot; he was fucking beautiful.
I found myself moving closer, drawn by a force I couldn’t explain.
“Nice work out there.”
He nailed me with those brown eyes. “I just followed your advice to treat it like it was just another rugby game.”
“You did well.”
His gaze flickered around to make sure no one was close, before he leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “Do I get to choose my reward?”
My heart rate sped up. “Maybe.” The word was out of my mouth before I had a chance to rein it back in.
Tyler’s eyes darkened with lust instantly.
Oh fuck.
I was in so much trouble.