Page 32 of After the Siren

Chapter Seventeen

Theo had known Jake was a controversial player.

It was impossible to play football and not know that, even if you avoided the footy media.

There had been a protracted period a couple of seasons ago when you hadn’t been able to turn on a game without running into a wall of commentary about the way Jake Cunningham played for frees.

There had been an actual rule change as a result of Jake’s game.

Knowing it was one thing. Seeing it up close was another. Theo had never witnessed a camera operator chase someone across a car park before. Every pundit had a view. Every fan on social media had a view. Greg had a view. Randy Jones and Davo had a view. The AFLW players had views.

Yelks had stepped in to manage Jones and, as much as he could, the media.

Theo had liked Yelks, but he’d developed a new respect for him after seeing the way he handled drama.

He soothed ruffled feathers, fixed his earnest green gaze on journos as they asked leading questions, and somehow managed to back Jake up without putting a toe outside the hastily circulated media strategy.

Jake had been sent to Greg to ‘discuss his media presence’.

As far as Theo could tell, the meeting seemed to entail Greg using terms like traditional fanbase and moderation while Jake drank a bubble tea.

Jake was shrugging it all off – or, to be more accurate, shrugging off journalists and continuing his enthusiasm for the AFLW team on social media – but Theo could tell something was bothering him.

He was brazening it out, because that was what Jake did, but there were moments when Theo saw his energy flicker.

‘I did the right thing,’ he’d said to Theo in the silent locker room one evening. They’d each stayed back late for appointments with Jenny and Mick.

‘Yeah,’ Theo had agreed.

Jake tossed his phone into his bag. ‘Imagine if all these people calling me a fag knew the truth.’

Theo winced. ‘Jake —’

Jake shook his head. ‘Let’s not.’

Theo had nodded and left it. He’d followed Jake home and had dinner there, watching Paddy make Jake laugh while Xen cooked them pasta.

Jake had done the right thing in the interview with Hunter, no question.

The problem was that Theo had watched that interview more times than he would ever admit.

If he’d thought it was hard to be around Jake without being distracted before , it was nothing compared to now.

There was the interview, and then there was Jake swaggering across the car park with an AFLW cap on backwards, smirking at importunate journalists.

There was the way his face had settled into serious lines for a moment when Tenders had called him a shit-stirrer, and then he’d said just sticking up for my mates.

It all made Theo want to ... he didn’t even know.

Kiss Jake breathless. Beat the shit out of every homophobic asshole on the internet.

A game against the Ogres wasn’t usually rowdy; they were an interstate team without a massive fan base. But today a group of Ogres fans had come to the game holding giant cardboard snowflakes with Jake’s face pasted into the middle of them. Jake waved to them as the Falcons warmed up.

Jake had spent the whole week leading up to the game crackling with an intensity that had made the hair on the back of Theo’s neck prickle. On top of Jake’s normal pre-game energy, it made the situation feel explosive.

There were other fan-made signs, too, though nothing quite bad enough to get anyone ejected. Jake just pointed them out, laughing, and practised his shots.

Theo tried not to watch him, tried not to think about how Jake’s eyes looked up close, the freckles across the bridge of his nose, the way he’d pushed his sweaty hair out of his face when they’d been in bed.

That became untenable after Jake kicked his third goal of the first half.

Even Theo had to accept that his own kick to set it up had been a beauty – low and perfectly weighted so it thudded straight into Jake’s chest as he ran hard on the lead. The whistle shrilled and the beaten defender said something that made Jake grin.

Jake’s goal-kicking routine was surprisingly low-key, all things considered. No grass throwing, no weird sequence of steps, no colossal run-up. It was understated and economical.

Jake nailed the goal. It was a beautiful kick from forty-five metres out, straight through the middle.

A stunning reminder that, for all his filthy snaps and trick shots, he could flush a set shot with the best of them.

Theo wished it wasn’t a turn-on. It was going to be very inconvenient if Jake kicking goals became a turn-on.

Theo only had a moment to contemplate that chilling possibility because Jake was running towards him, arms in the air.

Jake’s post-goal celebrations were not understated or economical.

The crowd roared and Jake leaped into Theo’s arms in celebration, his legs wrapped around Theo’s waist. Theo grabbed him to hold him up, looking up into his jubilant face, and he knew he was smiling back.

‘Let’s do it again,’ Jake said.

It took Theo a moment to realise he was talking about the goal.

They did do it again. Ten minutes into the fourth quarter, Jake had five. The Ogres were looking murderous. The fans with snowflake signs were getting very loud.

The ball got punched out of the stoppage and Theo, with a couple of metres on the Ogres player who’d been drawn into the contest, scooped it up.

The wing was open in front of him and he took off.

Felt the heart-pounding satisfaction of knowing his opponent couldn’t catch him.

Felt the burn in his legs as he pushed harder. He took a bounce, then another one.

Jake hadn’t managed to lose his defender, but he pointed up and to the forward pocket. Theo didn’t think, just steadied himself and put the ball up high.

Jake didn’t usually take speccies. He wasn’t a particularly aerial player. In this case, he got his boot into the hip of the tallest Ogre’s defender as he went up. He juggled the ball in the air for a second, suspended, and then managed to yank it to his chest.

He kept hold of the ball but didn’t stick the landing, and for a second Theo worried that he’d hurt himself. But then he was laughing, levering himself up onto hands and knees. Paddy was there to pull him to his feet, and Theo was trying to catch his own breath. From the running. Obviously.

Jake took his time, then snapped the kick around his body with signature accuracy. Even if it was too far out for anything other than a drop punt, really.

The crowd went berserk and Jake ran forward to get right into the faces of the Ogres cheer squad behind the goal. They screamed back at him, furious, as he pointed at the fans with the snowflakes and blew them a kiss.

It was exactly the sort of performance that, six months ago, would have pissed Theo off. Yet here he was, grateful that his compression shorts were ... compressing.

They won the game decisively. In the rooms afterwards, Theo knew he was looking at Jake too much, but he couldn’t stop.

Jake stretching, laughing with Yelks. Jake stripped down to his shorts, chatting to one of the trainers.

Jake with a microphone in his face, grinning at a reporter.

Theo needed to stop, because he wasn’t being subtle about it, but he couldn’t not look.

He went through the motions of showering and getting dressed without registering any of it. He got a thump on the back from Yelks and a nod of approval from Davo, both of which should have made him feel good about the game. But all he could feel was a restless ache in his stomach.

It was a bad idea. It had been a bad idea the first time, and it was a bad idea now. In fact, it was an even worse idea now, because at least that first time he’d been drunk when they’d started it. This time he was stone-cold sober and perfectly able to see all the ways it could go wrong.

He managed to intercept Jake on the way out to his car, jogging a little to catch up with him, hauling his half-zipped gym bag.

‘Hey,’ Theo said, a little breathless.

Jake was still grinning. ‘What’s up?’

Theo took a deep breath. ‘My sister is away for a conference this weekend. You wanna come over tonight and, uh, play some Mario Kart ?’

Jake’s slow smile made Theo feel a bit drunk. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’ve just gotta drop Xen and Paddy home first.’

‘Cool.’

Jake’s fingers brushed Theo’s wrist. The gesture would have looked entirely innocuous to an onlooker, but it made Theo feel like he might burst into flames.

‘See you later,’ Jake said.

‘Yeah,’ Theo said, knowing that it was a terrible idea and not giving a damn.

Jake jogged up the steps to Stavs’ place and rung the bell.

He’d thought Stavs might get cold feet and send him an ‘actually ...’ message.

But he hadn’t, and even some serious side eye from Xen hadn’t stopped Jake from dumping his bag at home, changing, and then heading straight back out the door.

Jake heard footsteps, then the door opened. Stavs was wearing a threadbare navy skivvy and grey trackies. His hair was a little damp, messy like he’d been running his hands through it.

‘I want the yellow controller,’ Jake told him, stepping inside and kicking off his sneakers. ‘And I’m sitting on the right.’

Stavs looked, for a second, like he genuinely believed that Jake had driven over at 11 pm on a Saturday night after a game to play Mario Kart . It was great. Everything was great. It had been a great day, and now Jake was going to have some great sex.

‘Um,’ Stavs said, and Jake took a couple of steps into his space, nudging him until his back was against the door. His eyes dropped to Jake’s mouth. ‘What if there’s no yellow controller?’

‘Guess we’ll have to find something else to do.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Stavs’ hands moved like he’d thought about reaching for Jake’s hips and then changed his mind.

‘Any ideas?’