Page 36 of The Scrum-Half (Lincoln Knights #3)

Matty

It was the last home match of the Premiership rugby union season and the whole stadium was abuzz with excitement.

A win for the Knights would solidify our position in the top four and get us into the semi-finals, putting us one match away from a final at Twickenham.

It was everything we’d worked for all season, and I was determined for us to go out and give it our all.

“All right,” I said as the team huddled up in the changing room, our arms around each other’s shoulders.

“This is it. Last home game of the season and our chance to go out there and prove that we fucking deserve to be here! We’ve earned that semi-final, so get out there and fucking prove it.

Leave nothing in the tank. This is our moment, boys, so fucking enjoy it. ”

“We’ve got this,” Devon said. “Don’t give them an inch. This is our stadium, those are our fans, and we’re not leaving without a win. If they push forward, you fucking push back. Kill them if you have to.”

There was a round of cheering and applause. I wasn’t sure I’d expected something quite so bloodthirsty from Devon, but there was a wild glint in his eyes and it reminded me how much he’d won with Marseille before he’d come here.

“Knights on three then, boys,” I said, looking at the excited faces around me. They weren’t just my teammates, they were my friends, my brothers, my family. And we’d always have each other’s backs, on and off the pitch. Together, there was nothing we couldn’t do.

The huddle broke up and we made our way towards the tunnel, ready to walk out onto the pitch.

For today, we had mascots joining us—kids aged between five and twelve all dressed in Knights kit ready to walk out beside us.

As captain, I was at the front of the line beside a boy who looked like he wasn’t sure whether to smile or throw up.

“Hey,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m Matty. What’s your name?”

“Harry,” he said quietly.

“Nice to meet you, Harry.” I took his hand and gave him a comforting smile. He seemed to relax a little having something to hold on to. “Are you nervous?”

“A little bit. There’s a lot of people out there.”

“That’s okay. You just keep hold of my hand and then stand in front of me. I’ve got you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I hope you win.”

“Thanks, we’re going to do our best to.”

He nodded stoically and I tried to imagine what Jack would be like in his position.

Either bouncing up and down or chattering nineteen to the dozen, although he did have his shy moments when he didn’t know people.

Maybe when he got a bit older, I’d see if he was interested in being a mascot one day.

If I could get him to give up getting his beloved sausage sandwiches as soon as he arrived.

I thought about him and Harper up in the family lounge and wondered how many sausage sandwiches Jack had consumed by now.

My guess was at least two. Hopefully, he’d be happy to play for a bit, though, so Harper could watch some of the match, especially since I’d worked hard to try and teach him the basics.

Well… not that hard. We’d often gotten distracted or fallen asleep because the only real time we had was after Jack was in bed and by that point the rules of rugby were the last thing on my mind.

Harper wasn’t on his own, though, since Rory and Ryan had both taken to going up to the lounge to watch with him. They’d befriended Harper through loving force, but he’d happily let them and I was glad he’d made friends because it was good for him to know people other than Hannah and me.

Rory and Ryan regularly invited him to The Court, and Harper had also taken Jack to a couple of the summer drag story times.

All the artists knew who Jack was, so he’d quickly been adopted by a whole host of drag performers who simply adored him and were happy to supply him with glitter and face gems.

Apparently one of them, Eva Nessence, who was surprisingly good with kids despite her fearsome appearance, had floated doing a family tent at Lincoln Pride this year and the idea had been picked up, so I’d already got the date in my diary.

The Knights would be at Pride too, marching in the parade, and we’d even talked about doing a Pride touch rugby game for players versus drag artists to raise money for charity.

Clive was on board, and they were just putting the final details together to make sure it didn’t clash with anything else in our pre-season calendar.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium and I knew it was nearly time.

I smiled down at Harry and checked he was okay before we strode out onto the pitch, the rest of the team behind me.

It was like stepping into a festival pit or onto a stage, the stadium creating a bowl of noise.

It wasn’t as intense as an international stadium like Twickenham or Murrayfield, but it still sent chills across my skin and set fire to my blood.

There was nothing else like it.

We lined up as we were introduced to the crowd, then greeted the referees and our opposition, who walked along the line shaking our hands and the mascots’.

Today we were playing Worcester, whose front row Danny had proclaimed to be shit.

But they were looking to secure a solid sixth place finish and they weren’t just going to roll over and let us take the win.

As we took our positions on the pitch, I glanced up towards the family lounge, hoping my sunshine and my star would be watching.

I imagined Harper waving to me, and I hoped I’d do him proud.

At the end of the match, they’d come down onto the pitch so we could celebrate the end of the season, and I couldn’t wait to kiss my man or watch Jack run across the turf.

But first, I had a match to win.

The whistle blew and Devon kicked the ball high into the air, sending it soaring down the pitch and into touch. Not a bad start.

It didn’t take long to get the ball out towards Danny, who went streaking off up the pitch as if his mullet had given him super speed. The opposition tried to stop him, but Danny had always been nippy and Devon, Jonny, and I were keeping pace while our front row spread out across the pitch.

Danny finally went down when someone got a hand on the back of his shorts, half exposing his underwear. I noticed it had Bite Me plastered across the arse, which was new, but I couldn’t really put any more thought into it with the ball coming straight at me.

I grabbed it and took half a step, looking for someone to pass to, and noticed Kegan waiting. I handed it off as one of the Worcester players barrelled into me and sent me crashing to the floor. My hip twinged slightly and I winced. It wasn’t a bad tackle, simply a reminder that I was getting old.

It made me even more determined to win this match because one thing I’d never achieved in my career was a piece of silverware. And it would be nice, just once, to lift a trophy with the men who’d become a second family to me.

Plus the English bastards on the team hadn’t stopped going on about winning the Six Nations, and I had to admit I was a little jealous.

As I climbed to my feet and kept running, I watched the ball land in Charlie’s capable hands and smiled. If anyone could get it across the touchline, it was him.

I was proven right two seconds later as he dove across the line, slamming the ball down and skidding across the turf. The crowd went wild as music played and the commentator announced who’d scored. We all piled onto Charlie, hugging him and ruffling his hair.

“Good job,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Cheers,” Charlie said as he handed the ball to Devon, who was preparing to kick the conversion.

The angle wasn’t the steepest he’d kicked this season, but there was a little bit of a breeze picking up, which would affect the way the ball travelled.

But Devon was one of the best fly-halves I’d ever played with and I could already see him calculating what he needed to do.

We backed up to give him space, a couple of people grabbing a drink or talking to a physio. Jaden seemed to be struggling a little with his right shoulder, which was worrying because he’d need that arm to form the scrum and lock in beside West.

I didn’t want him to hurt himself, mostly because we’d need him if we got to the semi-finals, but I also hoped he’d be able to hold out for as long as possible.

We only had one other loosehead prop on the bench, and we wouldn’t want to bring him on until at least the second half to ensure the team stayed as fresh as possible for as long as possible.

The stadium went silent as Devon lined up, then erupted into cheers as he kicked it neatly between the posts and over the bar. A raised flag and a whistle confirmed the kick was good, and the Knights were up seven to nothing after only six minutes.

Now we just had to keep the momentum up.

The first half flew by as we dominated play, absolutely racking up points as if our opponents weren’t even there. At times, it really didn’t feel like they were. I wasn’t going to complain, though, because it made our lives a hell of a lot easier.

By the time we jogged back to the dressing room at half-time, we’d already scored thirty-one points and earned a bonus point for scoring four tries while Worcester had only managed three from a penalty they’d been given just before the whistle.

“This is going well,” Danny said as he sipped his water and took a bite out of a thick slice of dark chocolate banana bread. “Kinda—”

“Oi! Don’t you fucking dare say easy,” Bailey said, throwing a towel at him, which landed in the winger’s lap.

“You’ll bloody curse us,” Hunter said.

“What?” Danny asked with his mouth full. “It is!”

“Yeah, but we’ve said that before and it’s all gone wrong in the second half,” West said calmly.

“We won’t let it,” I said as I looked around at them.

“Hold on to this feeling and don’t let it go.

Forty minutes, that’s all we’ve got to get through.

Forty minutes and that semi-final is ours.

And we bloody deserve it! Don’t let them get even a toe back in place.

Push them, hold on, and get it done. Then we can break out the champagne.

” I glanced at Devon and snorted. “And yes, Mr Barre, it is actually champagne, not just sparkling wine we’re calling champagne. ”

“Thank you,” Devon said with an approving nod. Bloody wine snob.

I took a swig of my drink and closed my eyes for a second, basking in the noise around me as my thoughts drifted to floors above. I hoped Harper was enjoying himself.

“Let’s go, boys,” Mason said a few minutes later as we all climbed to our feet, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Jonny kiss Devon’s cheek when he thought nobody else was watching. “Let’s fucking do this!”

And we did.

Worcester tried to get a footing back with substitutions but we’d already decided they weren’t getting anything from this match.

They managed one more penalty, but that was it.

Meanwhile, we ran riot all over the pitch, and by the end Danny was laughing while he scored, setting the ball down neatly between the posts to create a conversion so easy Devon could have done it in his sleep.

The final score was seventy-three to six.

Less a crushing victory than a total annihilation.

But we still shook all the Worcester players’ hands and gave them a few hugs, wishing them well and almost politely apologising for what we’d inflicted on them.

We wandered over towards the stands, waving at the fans and celebrating with them, thanking them for their support throughout the season.

Our families walked out onto the pitch, kids tearing across the turf with rugby balls in hand.

Harper was carrying Jack, who looked a bit overwhelmed by the whole thing, his hand firmly clutching the front of Harper’s T-shirt.

Seeing the pair of them together made my heart swell, emotion threatening to overwhelm me. It was a reminder of what I’d gained over the last few months and how precious it was to me. I never wanted to take this feeling for granted.

It was something I’d been waiting for my whole life, something I’d wanted for longer than I could say, and something I’d never be able to replace.

“There’s my boys,” I said, walking over and pulling them into a hug, kissing Jack’s temple before I kissed Harper.

I didn’t care if anyone saw, if they took pictures or it ended up on various news outlets tomorrow.

This was my life, and I wasn’t going to hide how fucking amazing it was.

Besides, it wasn’t like I was the only one on the team with a boyfriend.

Queerness wasn’t exactly unusual here at the Knights.

“We’re so proud of you,” Harper said, kissing me again. “You were amazing!”

“Thanks,” I said. “It was easier than I imagined. But everyone absolutely smashed it today!”

“They really did.”

Harper smiled and brushed a strand of hair off of Jack’s face. “We watched the end, didn’t we, Jack? When Uncle Danny scored.”

“Yeah.” Jack nodded. “He’s so fast.”

“He really is,” I said, watching Danny over Harper’s shoulder. He was standing with Charlie but kept looking over into the stands, like he was waiting for someone. “How many sausage sandwiches did you eat today?”

“Three,” Jack said with a grin.

“ Three ?”

“Yeah. And some strawbies. Can I get down, please?”

“Sure,” Harper said, letting him slide down, and we watched as he ran over to see Danny and Charlie, no doubt to tell Danny how fast he was. Danny looked delighted, though, and it always surprised me how good he was with kids. Maybe because he was a big one himself.

“How’re you feeling?” Harper asked, putting his arm around my waist and letting me lean against him.

“Bloody knackered.” I chuckled. “Bloody happy, though.”

“I’m so proud of you.” Harper kissed my cheek. “And I love you so much.”

“Love you too, sunshine.” I sighed happily, the deep ache in my muscles starting to set in as I looked at the scene around me.

If there was a luckier man on the planet, I didn’t know him.

I didn’t think there was one.

There certainly wasn’t a happier one.