Posted Mon Nov 2, 2015 | 299 Words | Tagged story rugby

Timothy had always secretly watched the rugby players at his school. He didn’t want any of them to know he was staring at them all of the time, but damn they were hot. All of their muscles moving and on top of each other. He had a good hiding spot near the trees where he could get a good view and he thought nobody could see him.

He got a shock when one day he opened his locker and inside was a rugby ball. A shiver of fear ran down his back as someone knew. He didn’t tell anyone he liked rugby or rugby players, but why a ball? It’s not like he could play. No way was his body up for anything like that.

He picked it up and tossed it into his bag, he needed to get stuff out of his locker anyway. He felt it and it felt strangely good to finally touch it. So rough and rubbery.

He almost couldn’t stop himself touching it all day long. It just felt right to keep thinking about it.

Then at the end of the day, he sat and watched them play again. This time he was holding onto his own rugby ball, as he had for most of the day. And he was watching them with even more glee than normal. Damn how he wished he could be like them.

That night he slept holding the rugby ball. He woke up feeling incredibly refreshed and fairly light. He looked in the mirror and smiled gleefully. He had muscle, strength and something important to remember? He couldn’t remember. He had rugby practice and a rugby game today. Tyler was one of the best and was on the national team. Damn Tyler loved rugby, always has and always will.