FabGuys.com forum: Rugby Rematch

By *aulishorny OP Man
6 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

This is a continuation of my story Rugby Match. It is more an emotional journey story than a sex story. But I hope you still enjoy, if you do, please keep commenting to let me know 😊

Summary so far:

Two rival rugby players, Reece and Jack, clash on and off the pitch as lust simmers beneath brutal tackles and silent stares. A secret affair spirals into raw encounters, hidden passion, and emotional fallout. After a violent bust-up, they’re forced to confront their feelings — and the fear of something real.

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By *aulishorny OP Man
6 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 22: Between the Lines

They’d found a rhythm.

It wasn’t smooth — not yet — but it worked. For now.

Three months since that stormy night on Reece’s sofa, and somehow they were still… them. Still tangled in each other’s orbit, still pretending not to notice how they always ended up leaving training together. Still slipping through back entrances to Reece’s flat or staying behind for “extra drills” that always ended in slammed doors, muffled groans, and hands that couldn’t get enough.

The sex hadn’t cooled — if anything, it had sharpened. Gotten messier, more possessive. Reece knew exactly how Jack liked it now: teeth grazing the neck, hands pinning hips, tension coiled in every thrust like a powerline. Jack still made those same guttural sounds when it built too much — still bit down on his knuckles when he came, as if silencing himself was the only way to survive it.

But it wasn’t just that anymore.

Jack was sleeping over.

Bringing his toothbrush.

Leaving muddy boots next to Reece’s by the front door.

---

In private, Reece could feel the shift.

Jack lingered longer after. Rested his head on Reece’s chest instead of pulling on his kit and pretending it was nothing. He asked questions — about Reece’s family, his growing-up years, whether he ever thought about coaching full-time. He started listening when Reece answered.

But in public… it was still tightrope walking.

Jack didn’t do hand touches or looks that lasted too long. Didn’t stay near Reece at the bar when the rest of the squad was watching. If someone asked where he was headed after a match, Jack always had a cover story lined up.

Reece didn’t push.

Not much.

Just gently — small nudges. A brush of knuckles. A second too long in the locker room when no one else was around. A quiet, “You don’t have to hide with me,” when Jack got that hunted look.

But Jack would pull away, kiss him harder next time in private — like to make up for it.

Reece knew it wasn’t shame.

It was fear.

Fear of what people would say. What they’d assume. What it would cost.

Still, when Jack curled into him at night — chest to Reece’s back, legs tangled — he felt it.

The bond. The weight of something real growing quietly in the dark.

---

One morning, after another tangled, sweat-slicked night, Jack traced his fingers down Reece’s chest and said, “Do you reckon they know?”

Reece didn’t open his eyes.

“I think they suspect. But they’ll wait for us.”

Jack was quiet for a long time.

Then, almost a whisper:

“Thanks for not rushing me.”

Reece turned, eyes soft. “I’m not here to chase you, Jack. I’m here to stand next to you. Whenever you’re ready.”

Jack didn’t reply.

But he reached for Reece’s hand and held it for a long, still moment, under the duvet where no one else could see.

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
6 days ago

Glasgow

A realisation dawning. Jack will come round to Reece's thinking in time

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By *ornytimeMan
6 days ago

Cheltenham centre

This is just such a great story

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By *ndy300Man
6 days ago

houston

Best ever story. Can't wait to see more

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By *ich65Man
6 days ago

Chorley

Fantastic story telling 😘

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By *ethro65Man
6 days ago

Sutton-in-Ashfield

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By *aulishorny OP Man
6 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 23: What’s Seen Can’t Be Unseen

It had been Reece’s idea.

A walk through the woods. No game that weekend. Just air, quiet, and space to breathe — somewhere they didn’t have to think about the club, the lads, or who might be watching.

The late afternoon sun was slanting through the trees, dappling the path in gold. The kind of soft light that made everything feel slow and gentle. Reece liked this place. It was one of the few where his body could unclench. Jack had seemed calm, too — less coiled. Even cracked a joke about the mud looking “almost poetic.”

They reached a quiet clearing, moss underfoot, trees stretching tall around them.

Reece tugged Jack’s hand — gently — and pulled him in for a kiss. Nothing wild. Nothing heavy. Just close.

Warm.

Jack let himself lean in, hands on Reece’s chest, their foreheads resting together afterward, sharing breath. Reece smiled.

Then—

“Oi.”

The voice sliced through the woods like a knife.

They turned.

A man stood a few metres off — middle-aged, walking a dog, wearing a hi-vis gilet and a hard expression. He’d clearly seen. Seen the kiss. Seen the closeness. Seen them.

He scoffed, lip curled. “Shouldn’t be doing that out here. Got kids walkin’ these woods. No one wants to see that filth.”

Reece felt Jack go rigid beside him. Stiff. Frozen.

Reece stepped forward, calm but firm. “We’re not hurting anyone, mate. Just walking.”

The man sneered. “Yeah, right. Keep it to yourselves next time. Don’t need that kind of shit round here.”

He walked on, muttering under his breath, yanking his dog’s lead.

Silence.

Birdsong in the trees.

Jack’s face was blank.

Reece turned to him slowly. “Hey…”

Jack stepped back.

One, two steps. Eyes wide. Not at Reece — just somewhere else. Some locked door in his own mind slamming shut.

“I… I didn’t think it’d happen,” he said, voice low and tight. “Not like that.”

Reece reached for him. “Jack, it’s just one bloke. We don’t need to—”

“You don’t get it,” Jack snapped, suddenly sharp. “You’re used to this. You’ve done the hard bit already.”

Reece flinched. “You think it ever stops being hard?”

Jack looked away.

“I just wanted a walk. Not to feel like I had to defend myself for existing.”

Reece’s voice softened. “Then don’t let him win. Don’t let one ignorant arsehole take this away from you. From us.”

But Jack was already pulling back inside himself, muscles tight, eyes flickering.

Doubt. Shame. That old fight-or-flight kicking in.

“I need space,” he said, turning. “Just for a bit.”

Reece let him go.

He stood there in the clearing, the birds still chirping like nothing had happened. Heart heavy. The kiss still warm on his lips. The air colder now.

This was the risk.

Love that had grown in shadows didn’t always survive the light.

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By *ndy300Man
5 days ago

houston

O no what next

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
5 days ago

Glasgow

Time, take time

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By *ust 58Man
5 days ago

london

Unexpected development….. hope thinking time helps …

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By *orfyMan
5 days ago

Aylsham

Loving this

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By *ttmguy500Man
5 days ago

Ammanford area

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By *an4manlymanMan
5 days ago

Naas..

great writing...

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By *laiddMan
5 days ago

London

Beautiful so so well written

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By *aygordon999Man
5 days ago

Shetland

Great to see this story continuing

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By *aulishorny OP Man
5 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 24: Silence

Reece didn’t text him that night.

He didn’t want to crowd him, didn’t want to push. But the silence that followed was heavier than anything he’d felt since this whole thing started. Like Jack had dropped off the map — like the connection they’d built had been fragile all along, and that one comment in the woods had shattered it.

The next morning, he sent one message.

“I’m here. No pressure. Just let me know you’re okay.”

Nothing.

Two days passed.

No word. No calls. Jack didn’t turn up to gym session. Missed touch training. Told the coach he’d tweaked his knee. Reece knew better — it wasn’t his body that was bruised.

By the third day, Reece stopped pacing.

He went back to living.

Sort of.

He still left his phone face-up. Still woke every few hours in the night thinking he heard a knock. But he didn’t chase. Couldn’t. Jack had to come to this on his own.

And then, on the fourth night — nearly midnight — someone buzzed his flat.

Reece opened the door half-dressed, hair mussed from sleep, and there he was.

Jack.

Hood up. Eyes red. Not d*unk — just tired. Worn.

He didn’t speak.

He just looked at Reece like he’d spent the last few days trying not to.

Then he walked inside without a word.

They stood there in the quiet.

Reece didn’t touch him. Didn’t speak first.

Finally, Jack let the silence crack.

“I went home,” he said. “To my mum’s. Walked the dog. Didn’t look at my phone. Just… sat with it.”

Reece nodded, waiting.

Jack exhaled. “He made me feel like I was fifteen again. Like I was wrong. Dirty.”

His jaw flexed.

“I’ve spent my whole life keeping this part of me under control. Keeping it quiet. And now it’s out, it’s like I can’t shut the door again. I didn’t expect that to scare me so much.”

Reece stepped closer, slow. Gave him space to move if he needed.

Jack didn’t move.

“I wanted to quit,” Jack murmured. “This. You. Just to feel safe again.”

Reece’s chest tightened.

“But I couldn’t. I don’t want to. Even if it’s scary. Even if it’s messy.”

Reece reached out then — not with fire, but with care. Hand on Jack’s neck, thumb just under his jaw.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Reece said softly. “And you’re not dirty. You’re one of the bravest men I’ve ever known.”

Jack swallowed hard.

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“You don’t have to know. You just have to stay.”

Jack nodded.

And this time, when he kissed Reece — it wasn’t lust-driven. It was soft. Slow. Real.

A kiss that said: I’m here. Still scared. But still yours.

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By *orfyMan
5 days ago

Aylsham

This gets better and beter

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By *estendmanMan
5 days ago

Glasgow

Superb writing- a great story. Well done

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By *ndy300Man
5 days ago

houston

Wow

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
5 days ago

Glasgow

Slowly does it!

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By *ornytimeMan
5 days ago

Cheltenham centre

Such a great story and also very close to many of us x

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By *ich65Man
5 days ago

Chorley

Such a great story and also very close to many of us x"

So true, I for one can relate to many aspects of this story.

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By *aulishorny OP Man
5 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 25: Testing the water

It was after training, just the two of them in the boot room, lacing up in that quiet lull where the sweat’s still drying and the adrenaline’s just starting to fade.

Jack had picked Ollie.

He wasn’t the loudest. Not the most laddish. Just… steady. Good hands on the pitch. Seemed to listen more than most. The kind of bloke who gave you the space to speak.

Jack had been rehearsing it in his head for days. Lines, jokes, escape routes. Still, his hands felt too big as he tied his laces. Too clumsy.

Ollie was pulling off his boots. “You all right? You’ve been a bit... twitchy this week.”

Jack gave a small laugh, too fast. “Yeah. Just thinking too much.”

“About the season?”

Jack looked down.

“No. Not that.”

Silence settled between them.

Jack’s heart hammered.

He took a breath — shallow, sharp.

Then said it.

“Reece and me… we’ve been seeing each other.”

It felt like dropping something delicate. Like the quiet might shatter.

Ollie stared at him, blinking once.

Then he scoffed.

“What, like… properly?”

Jack didn’t answer.

Ollie let out a snort. “Fucking hell, mate. You serious? You two? You’re winding me up.”

Jack’s face flushed. “No, I—”

Ollie stood, brushing off his shorts, shaking his head. “That’s a weird one. You’re having a laugh.”

Jack’s mouth opened. Closed.

Then something clenched in his jaw.

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Yeah, I’m just messing. Thought I’d see if you’d bite.”

Ollie chuckled. “Mad bastard. Got me going there.”

Jack forced a laugh.

His stomach turned.

---

Later, in the showers, he didn’t look at Reece. Didn’t even glance.

Reece noticed.

Felt the shift immediately — that wall Jack had worked so hard to take down, suddenly slammed back up.

In the car park, Reece caught up to him.

“What happened?” he asked, low and quiet.

Jack shook his head. “Nothing.”

“You told someone.”

Jack didn’t answer.

Reece stepped in front of him, voice still gentle but firmer now. “Jack—”

“I fucked it,” Jack snapped. “I thought Ollie was sound. He laughed. Thought it was a joke. So I made it a joke. End of.”

Reece stared.

“Jesus.”

Jack rubbed a hand through his hair, face tight. “You were right. They do suspect. But suspicion’s safer than truth. And truth makes people laugh. Or worse.”

Reece exhaled through his nose, trying to stay calm. “You don’t have to come out for them. Or for me. But don’t erase us because someone can’t handle it.”

Jack looked at him.

Exhausted. Ashamed.

“I just need to survive this season, mate. That’s all I’m trying to do.”

Reece nodded. Slowly.

But his chest felt like it had been stepped on.

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
5 days ago

Glasgow

Hard, but not too hard hopefully

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By *eteguy2Man
5 days ago

Ware

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By *aulishorny OP Man
4 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 26: Hurt

The game was brutal.

Hard hits, stiff scrums, a last-minute win. The dressing room stank of sweat, mud, liniment, and triumph. Everyone was flying. The kind of high that made grown men shout like lads, beat their chests, throw jibes with bare-arsed swagger.

The showers steamed with banter.

Soaked towels slapped tiles. Someone was singing off-key. Jokes flew faster than the spray.

Then it turned.

Dom — one of the forwards, all neck and fists — laughed too loud and shouted, “Oi, lads, careful bendin’ over in here, yeah? Don’t want to give Reece any ideas.”

The room stilled. Just for a breath.

Then came the jeers.

“Fuck’s sake, Dom.”

“Nah, he’s right — Reece’s always so quiet in here, innit?”

“He’s probably sizing us up.”

Laughter rippled. Not everyone joined in — but no one stopped it.

Reece stood still, water running down his back. Not moving. Not flinching. Just listening.

Jack’s heart pounded. His throat went dry.

He could feel every eye — and then Dom turned to him.

“You’re close with him, right, Jack? You ever wake up with him spoonin’ you at training camp?”

A few laughs. Nervous ones.

Jack forced a grin.

“Mate, if anyone in here’s batting for the other side, it’s Reece, not me. Have you seen his stretching routine? Proper desperate.”

More laughter.

Reece didn’t turn around.

He finished washing, stepped out of the spray, grabbed his towel. Didn’t say a word.

Didn’t look at Jack.

And Jack felt it — like a knife he’d handed over himself.

---

Later, back in the changing room, Jack found him lacing up his boots in silence.

“Reece.”

Nothing.

“Look, I didn’t mean—”

Reece stood up, face unreadable.

“You didn’t mean to what? Throw me under the bus to save your own skin?”

“It was just banter—”

“Banter?” Reece’s voice was ice now. Low. Controlled. “Is that what you call it?”

Jack flinched. “I panicked. I didn’t want them to—”

“To what? Know?” Reece stepped closer. “You let them rip me to shreds so they wouldn’t look twice at you.”

Jack’s eyes dropped. His chest tightened.

“I’m sorry.”

Reece nodded once. Slowly.

“Yeah. You are.”

He turned and left without another word.

---

That night, Jack sat alone on his bed, phone in hand, screen lit up with Reece’s contact — unread messages sitting in limbo.

He hadn’t just lost Reece’s trust.

He’d given the pack permission to hunt.

And now, silence bit harder than any insult.

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By *ndy300Man
4 days ago

houston

So good

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
4 days ago

Glasgow

Tough choices

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By *utdrguyMan
4 days ago

south devon

Great story- what a roller coaster of a ride ! Real life !

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By *ewi1964Man
4 days ago

Albufeira Algarve

This is a fabulous story, the twists and turns always keeps you on your toes! Can't wait for more

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By *aygordon999Man
4 days ago

Shetland

I wonder if Ollie has a lot to think over

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By *herub65Man
4 days ago

Reading

This is a fabulous story so well written. Can’t wait for something wonderful to happen to both of them.

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By *aulishorny OP Man
4 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 27: Lone Man Standing

The next week at training, it started again.

Quiet at first — whispered behind taped fingers, muttered in the scrum, just loud enough to sting.

Dom was the ringleader, of course. Bigger than most. Louder than all. His laugh carried like a slap.

Reece ignored it at first.

Took the hits harder. Ran drills cleaner. Said nothing.

But it didn’t stop.

When he walked into the locker room, conversation dipped.

Someone had scrawled “BENDER” in boot polish on his kit bag. Not creative. Just cruel.

He stood there, staring at it. No one laughed. But no one said a thing, either.

Not even Jack.

Jack was two benches down, lacing his boots, face like stone.

He didn’t look up.

Didn’t look at him.

That was worse than Dom’s laughter.

Worse than the ink.

Worse than being alone.

Reece picked up the bag, wiped the word off with his sleeve. It smeared, left a shadow.

Then he stood.

“Right. Enough.”

His voice was low, but it cut through the silence.

He turned to Dom. “Say what you want to say to my face, you coward.”

Dom raised his brows. “Didn’t know I needed to schedule a one-on-one for banter.”

Reece stepped forward. “This isn’t banter. This is bullying. And everyone here is letting it happen.”

The air went tight. No one moved.

Reece looked around the room.

Eyes dropped. Boots suddenly needed attention. Phones were very interesting.

He saw Jack.

Still not looking at him.

Still not speaking.

His chest hurt more than any match ever had.

“You lot call yourselves teammates,” Reece said, quieter now. “But I’ve taken more hits in this room than I ever did on the pitch.”

No one replied.

He walked out.

Boots in hand. Shoulders square.

Alone.

---

Back in the dressing room, Jack sat frozen, stomach twisting.

His silence was a stain now — something you couldn’t scrub out with excuses.

And for the first time, he wondered if fear had made him someone he’d never wanted to be.

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By *sfun2019Man
4 days ago

Dub North City Ireland

Great story hanging for the next episode

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
4 days ago

Glasgow

Good for Reece.

Bad for Jack?

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By *ich65Man
4 days ago

Chorley

Again I say it this fantadtic writing. When is Jack going to stop hiding and repair his relationship with Reece - if it can be!

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By *ewi1964Man
4 days ago

Albufeira Algarve

Goodness me Jack! Give your head a wobble!

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By *utdrguyMan
4 days ago

south devon

No way back from two " strike -out s" Jack !!

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By *aulishorny OP Man
4 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 28: Hollow Nights

The barmaid’s laugh was sharp, teasing, the kind that made Jack grin without thinking. She was pretty in a loud way, bleach-blonde, fake lashes, hips swaying in low-slung jeans. She knew what she was doing.

And Jack?

Jack was trying to remember how to feel normal.

She’d flirted all evening — brushing his arm when she brought over pints, flashing smiles just a shade too long. Jack played along. Loud, laddish, easy. Said the right things. Impressed the rugby lads. Took her back to his flat.

She kissed him hard, fumbling with his belt like she’d done it a hundred times.

But when she straddled him, breath hot in his ear, hand down his briefs—

Nothing.

Not even a flicker.

His body was there.

But the rest of him?

Gone.

She pulled back slightly, still smirking. “Don’t tell me the stallion’s gone shy.”

Jack forced a chuckle, trying to stroke her hip, buy himself time, distraction—anything.

But the truth thudded in his chest.

She wasn’t Reece.

Her mouth wasn’t his mouth. Her smell wasn’t his sweat. Her hands didn’t know him.

His cock stayed soft.

And his shame got harder.

“Sorry,” he muttered, sitting up, pulling away gently. “Too many pints, maybe.”

She gave him a look — not cruel, but annoyed. A little embarrassed herself.

“No worries. Happens.”

She dressed, fast and awkward. Left with a casual “see ya round” that didn’t quite mask the sting.

Jack didn’t move for a long time after the door shut.

He stared at his ceiling like it might tell him why he’d ruined the only escape route he had.

---

Elsewhere in the city, Reece was on his third dating app of the week.

Swipe. Swipe. Match.

Messages. Smiles. Plans made.

He went out. Twice. One bloke was into CrossFit, talked about macros the entire night. The other was shy, sweet, smelled like soap. Neither one made him feel anything past the first beer.

He kissed one of them in the back of a cab. Tongues, hands, tension. But the taste was wrong. The heat was off. Their body wasn’t as heavy, didn’t press him the same way.

They weren’t Jack.

He got home. Deleted the app. Again.

Sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, thumb hovering over Jack’s name.

Didn’t press it.

Instead, he put the phone face-down and lay back in the dark.

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
4 days ago

Glasgow

Two miserable guys needing their heads knocked together. How many of us have been there I wonder?

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By *preaderMan
4 days ago

sunderland

Definitely relate to this. Mind you it’s worse when you realise you think it’s more but for them it’s physical infatuation.

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By *aulishorny OP Man
3 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 29: Dreams

Both of them dreamt of each other that night.

For Jack it starts in the locker room — not the one he knows now, but the old one. The academy changing room, all cracked tiles and piss-smelling floors. But it’s quiet. Dim. Just the buzz of the lights and the creak of his own boots.

Then Reece is there.

Wearing his old kit — muddied, tight, the sleeves stretched over his arms. He says nothing, just stares, sweat glistening across his collarbone.

Jack looks down.

His hands are on Reece’s hips.

No questions. No hesitation. Like muscle memory.

Reece pushes him against the lockers, mouth at his neck, biting, rough, real. Jack’s cock hardens instantly, aching in his shorts. There’s no one else in the world. Just breath and friction and that feeling again — skin on skin, two bodies locked like they’re trying to break each other open.

Reece drops to his knees, pulling at Jack's shorts, releasing his precum slicked cock. Grabbing it firmly at its base, Reece examines the swollen mushroom that is Jack's cocks head, before feeding it greedily into his warm, moist mouth and starts to suck.

Jack gasps — wants to stop him, doesn’t, can’t.

He wakes up with his hand in his boxers, heart pounding, cock twitching, the ghost of Reece’s tongue still hot in his mind.

He doesn’t finish.

It feels too close to truth.

---

Reece stirs in his sleep. The woods. That walk. That first time Jack let go in public, let his hand find Reece’s, let their shoulders touch longer than they should.

But now they’re alone.

Jack is behind him, breath at his neck, hands under his shirt, mouths meeting with desperation that tastes like anger and need. Reece moans into it — rough and low — as Jack shoves him up against a tree, teeth at his ear, hips grinding. Jack's hand roaming over his waistband before slipping under the fabric of his shorts,encircling Reece's engorged and thr0bbing cock with his hand and slowly caresses him.

Jack pushes Reece to the wood floor. There’s dirt under Reece’s knees, bark at his back, and Jack’s body over his like a storm.

Hot. Heavy. Possessive.

“Mine,” Jack whispers.

Reece wakes up hard.

Too hard.

Sweat clinging to his chest, jaw clenched. He jerks himself off without thinking — fast, rough, chasing the ghost of that weight, that voice, that need.

He comes with Jack’s name on his lips.

Then lies there in the dark, hating how empty it feels.

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
3 days ago

Glasgow

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By *preaderMan
3 days ago

sunderland

Excellent

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By *ewi1964Man
3 days ago

Albufeira Algarve

Love it

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By *ust 58Man
3 days ago

london

..:. Love it … if only their dreams come true …

If only they could talk

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By *aulishorny OP Man
3 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 30: Night visitor

It was well past midnight when the knock came.

Reece stared at the door for a long beat, unsure if he’d imagined it.

Another knock. Firm. Not rushed. Just… certain.

He opened the door barefoot, shirtless, the flat still thick with the ghost of his dream.

And there was Jack.

Rain dampened the shoulders of his hoodie. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw tight. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks — or maybe hadn’t wanted to.

Neither of them spoke.

Then Jack stepped forward. Slowly. Deliberately.

Reece didn’t move — didn’t let himself breathe — until Jack’s hand slid up his chest, over the skin he’d kissed so many times in secret. His fingers trembled.

Their mouths crashed before a word passed between them.

It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t gentle. It was urgent. Pent-up. Desperate. Their bodies knew the script, even if their minds were blank with adrenaline and confusion.

Shirts peeled away. Breathing quickened. They stumbled toward the bedroom, clothes falling in a trail behind them. Hands gripped too tightly. Teeth grazed skin like they were trying to prove it was real.

There were no names spoken. No soft words.

Only panting. Groaning. Want.

Jack gripped Reece like he was still trying to pin him down in a tackle — but it was need now, not rivalry. Reece pushed back just as hard. They rolled, they fought for space, for dominance, for something neither could name.

It was raw.

Confused.

Exposed.

And when it was over and both had cum, they lay tangled in silence, slick with sweat, hearts drumming in the quiet.

Reece reached out. Just a hand. Nothing more.

Jack flinched.

He rolled onto his side, back to Reece.

And just like that, the silence broke — but not with comfort.

With distance.

Reece pulled the sheet over his hip, voice low. “So that’s all this was?”

Jack didn’t answer right away. “Don’t make it something it’s not.”

Reece sat up. “You turned up at my door, Jack.”

“I made a mistake,” Jack said, too fast, too defensive. “I needed— I don’t know. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Then why did you?” Reece’s voice cracked. “You think I needed this? Another hit of you I can’t hold on to?”

Jack stood, pulling on his clothes. “It was just one night. That’s all. Don’t make it poetic.”

Reece laughed — hollow, sharp. “Right. One night. Like the rest didn’t happen.”

Jack opened the door.

He didn’t look back.

Reece didn’t stop him.

When the door clicked shut, the bed felt twice as cold.

And in that silence, Reece realised: lust could be survived. But love, once touched and left, had a way of hollowing you out.

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By *aygordon999Man
3 days ago

Shetland

I've had big dicks in my time and Jack's another one!

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By *ich65Man
3 days ago

Chorley

If the term Jackass suited someone it's Jack.

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By *preaderMan
3 days ago

sunderland

Been in the shoes of Reece, how long do you give Jack before you move on. Too many chances and behaviour becomes normalised.

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
3 days ago

Glasgow

Love can be cruel, hard and painful but sometimes it is worth it

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By *utdrguyMan
3 days ago

south devon

Yep Jack s defo shot his bolt !!- time to move on nd rub his face in it !

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By *preaderMan
3 days ago

sunderland

"Love can be cruel, hard and painful but sometimes it is worth it"

And sometimes you normalise the pain and the hurt and the relationship becomes toxic. Run Reece, run as fast as you can.

More easily said than done mind.

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By *aulishorny OP Man
3 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 31: Breaking Point

It started with a comment. Just one.

Dom, again.

Loud enough for the whole squad to hear, tossed like a grenade across the gym floor.

"Oi, Reece — didn’t know they let your kind in the showers again."

A few of the lads chuckled. Nervous laughs. Some out of fear. Some out of cruelty.

Reece didn’t flinch.

He kept wrapping his wrists, slow and tight. Like he didn’t hear it. Like he’d outgrown the need to react.

But inside, something old and brittle was starting to crack.

Then came another — from the winger, Ash. Younger, full of false bravado.

“Careful lads,” he smirked, “he might be scouting for fucks.”

That one got a real laugh.

Dom pushed further. “Maybe Jack should be careful. Seemed real quiet when you were paired up in drills last week. Be careful Jacky boy, the poofter is afer your cock!”

That stopped Reece cold.

He looked up.

Jack stood across the room, arms folded, jaw locked. A flicker of something passed across his face — guilt, shame — but he didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

Just looked away.

Reece stood.

His voice was low. Controlled. Dangerous.

“You lot get off on this, yeah? Bit of playground piss-taking. Feels like power, does it?”

Dom smirked. “You gonna cry, Reece?”

Reece walked across the room in two strides and shoved him.

Hard.

Dom stumbled. Came back swinging.

Fists flew. Metal clanged. Someone shouted. Bodies scrambled. Jack leapt in — not on Reece’s side, not on Dom’s — just between them. Trying to play peacekeeper without ever choosing a side.

It was over in seconds.

But the silence after was deafening.

Blood from Reece’s split lip dripped onto the floor.

His knuckles thr0bbed. His ribs ached. But worse was the ache in his chest — watching Jack, breathing heavy, eyes down, saying nothing.

Again.

That was the final blow.

Reece turned, spit blood, then looked right at Jack.

“You know what’s worse than being called a faggot by these meatheads?”

Jack’s eyes snapped up.

Reece didn’t stop.

“It’s being left to rot alone by the one person who knows the truth. The one who’s too much of a coward to admit what we had — what he still wants.”

The room froze.

Dom’s smirk fell.

A few heads turned to Jack. Confused. Eyes narrowing.

Jack looked like he’d been shot.

Reece wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, chest heaving.

“Say nothing, Jack. Like always.”

He walked out.

No one stopped him.

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By *laymate2025Man
3 days ago

Croydon

Best tale I’ve read on here

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By *aregay31Man
3 days ago

Marchwood Southampton

So good so much drama. I love it all. When's the t.v adaptation coming

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By *ewi1964Man
3 days ago

Albufeira Algarve

Goodness me Paul, you know how to leave us wanting so much more! This is the best story I've read on here in such a long time!

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
3 days ago

Glasgow

And the pain continues!

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By *outhKesMan
3 days ago

Here and There

😳🤯

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By *preaderMan
3 days ago

sunderland

About time Reece stood up for himself.

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By *estendmanMan
3 days ago

Glasgow

Paul, this story just gets better and better. You are a superb storyteller and this is a superb story. Congratulations on it and thanks

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By *onger10Man
3 days ago

Edinburgh

The very best writing I have seen on these forums. Excellent work

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By *ttmguy500Man
3 days ago

Ammanford area

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By *ornytimeMan
3 days ago

Cheltenham centre

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By *aulishorny OP Man
3 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 32: The Hollow Space

Jack told the team it was a hamstring. Grade two. Nothing serious.

He limped a little at first, just enough to sell it. Skipped drills. Stayed out of sight. The physio didn’t push — maybe she knew, maybe she didn’t care. Either way, it gave him time.

Time to hide.

Time to pretend the world hadn’t split apart in a burst of fists and shouted truths.

The fight. Reece’s words. The silence after.

It haunted him.

But shame is clever. It talks in quiet tones, says things like “just give it a week”, “he’s overreacting”, “he’ll come around”.

So Jack waited.

Then two weeks passed.

Then three.

When he finally returned, full kit, no excuses, the air in the changing room had shifted. Cold shoulders. Side-eyes. No one said anything, but they didn’t have to.

Reece wasn’t there.

Jack waited for him to show. Thought maybe he was late. Injured. Benched.

But after the second session, he asked.

“Where’s Reece?”

Dom just shrugged. “Gone. Heard he left the squad.”

“Left?”

“Didn’t say why. Didn’t say goodbye. Coach said he just… quit.”

The words hit like a kick to the chest.

Jack called him that night. Straight to voicemail.

He called again. Blocked.

He tried messages. Emails.

Nothing.

Then, in a panic, he drove to Reece’s flat. Knuckles white on the wheel. Stomach in knots.

He buzzed the door. Waited.

Buzzed again.

No answer.

He went round the back, looked up — and froze.

The windows were empty.

Bare.

And taped to the front door was a For Let sign.

Like he’d never lived there at all.

Jack stood staring at it. Rain starting to come down, cold and needling.

It was over.

Properly over.

He pressed his forehead to the front door, breath fogging the glass, body shaking. Then he slid down, crouched on the steps, shoulders hunched — and sobbed.

Ugly, wracking, helpless sobs.

He didn’t care who saw.

Didn’t care if the neighbours stared.

He’d waited too long.

And Reece was gone.

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By *preaderMan
3 days ago

sunderland

Good for Reese. Jack might have learned his lesson but I think he needs to suffer a bit.

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By *aregay31Man
3 days ago

Marchwood Southampton

True love and first love always hurt. Its not nice. But Jack's gotta brush himself off work himself out and move on

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By *onaberdeenMan
3 days ago

Aberdeen

So so good Paul - thanks

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
3 days ago

Glasgow

But is it the end? I hope not, such a great story!

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By *ewi1964Man
3 days ago

Albufeira Algarve

Jack has to find Reece! He has to!

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By *oshieMan
3 days ago

Arbroath

Such a lovely story and with that ending there, am in tears of sadness for Jack

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By *an4manlymanMan
3 days ago

Naas..

Fantastic story... can relate to a good bit of it... no winners in that situation...

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By *ich65Man
3 days ago

Chorley

While I can empathise with Jack, he treated Reece badly and Reece deserves better.

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By *aulishorny OP Man
3 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 33: A Pint

It was Ollie who reached out.

Not one of Jack’s so-called mates, not the boys he’d spent years in trenches with. It was the quiet centre-back, steady on the field, quiet off it. The one Jack had once half-joked with, half-tested, months ago — back when things had felt like a game.

Now, it wasn’t.

Jack had been training like a ghost. Head down. Eyes empty. The life had drained from him since Reece disappeared.

So when Ollie texted — “Pint later? Just us.” — Jack said yes.

They went to The Swan, the one that didn’t blast Sky Sports at max volume, the one with scuffed tables and no one to impress.

Two pints in, Jack finally spoke.

“I messed it up.”

Ollie gave a slight nod. Let the silence hold.

Jack looked down at his glass. “I didn’t say anything when they turned on him. I froze. I was scared.”

Ollie tilted his head. “Of what?”

Jack let out a bitter laugh. “Of being called the same names. Of them being right.”

A pause.

Then Ollie said, calm and level, “But they were right, weren’t they?”

Jack looked up, startled.

“I mean,” Ollie continued, “not about the crap they said. But about you. You’re not like them. That’s not a bad thing.”

Jack swallowed.

His hands trembled slightly as he traced the condensation on the glass. “He’s gone, Ollie. Reece. I waited too long, and now he’s gone. I don’t even know where.”

There was a long silence.

Ollie said, “Maybe you weren’t ready then. But maybe now you can start being honest with yourself. That’s the first step, mate. It’s not about big speeches or coming out with a banner. It’s just... owning your truth. Even if it’s quiet.”

Jack looked at him. Really looked at him.

Kind face. Solid. Safe.

And something in Jack cracked open — hope, loneliness, confusion — and without thinking, he leaned in.

Just a little.

And Ollie leaned back.

“Jack—”

Jack froze.

Ollie gave a small, almost sad smile. “Don’t. You’re hurting. You’re not seeing this clearly.”

Jack sat back, red flooding his face. “Shit. Sorry. I just... I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Ollie said gently. “It’s not a no because of you. It’s just not us, yeah?”

Jack nodded, throat tight.

“I’m here,” Ollie said. “For whatever you need. Just maybe not kisses in pub corners.”

That pulled the tiniest smile from Jack.

For the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel completely alone.

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By *aygordon999Man
2 days ago

Shetland

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By *ich65Man
2 days ago

Chorley

Does Ollie know where Reece is?

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
2 days ago

Glasgow

"Does Ollie know where Reece is?"

Odds on he does

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By *ttmguy500Man
2 days ago

Ammanford area

so good.

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By *preaderMan
2 days ago

sunderland

If Jack starts a relationship with Ollie, Reece will be traumatised. Jack has indicated he is starting to accept what and who he is and believe me it’s a right kick in the teeth when you have put up with all the shit and someone else gets all the good stuff.

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By *aulishorny OP Man
2 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 34: Nowhere to Go but Forward

The next morning, Jack got up early. No hangover, just a heaviness in his chest like something unfinished. Something overdue.

He deleted every dating app off his phone.

Not because he was ashamed, not anymore — but because it wasn’t about swiping or profiles. He didn’t want anonymous bodies. He didn’t want noise. He wanted to find someone.

He wanted to find Reece.

So he started looking.

Quietly at first — just checking socials. But Reece’s profiles were all gone. Not just inactive. Deleted. Wiped.

No mutuals had seen him.

No one had an address. A club. A number.

It was like he’d vanished.

Jack drove past Reece’s old flat again, still half-hoping the To Let sign might be gone, that maybe it had all been a bad dream. But the curtains still hung limp. Empty.

He sat in his car outside for over an hour. Just waiting. For what, he didn’t know.

Back home, he started writing a message. Then another. Emails. Drafts.

He deleted every one.

Too desperate. Too late. Too little.

But he wanted to speak. Needed to.

So he channelled it another way.

He started training again. Not for the squad. For him. Ran until his lungs burned, lifted until his muscles screamed.

He even told Ollie.

Told him the truth.

All of it.

Not just the facts, but the pain. The fear. The self-hate that had kept his mouth shut when Reece needed him most.

Ollie didn’t try to fix it. He just listened. That helped.

Then Jack did something harder — he told his mum.

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t clean. She cried. He nearly did. But when she pulled him into a hug and said, “I love you, not who you think you should be,” something in him released.

And still — Reece didn’t come.

Jack tried his old club. Phoned a mate of a mate who’d once trained with Reece years ago.

Nothing.

He left one last voicemail.

“Reece… I don’t know where you’ve gone. But if you ever want to be found, I’ll be here. I’m not hiding anymore.”

He hit send.

Then sat in the dark for a long time.

No reply came.

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By *ewi1964Man
2 days ago

Albufeira Algarve

Fabulous!

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By *an4manlymanMan
2 days ago

Naas..

A tough read but a great one..

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
2 days ago

Glasgow

Wait and wait

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By *ndy300Man
2 days ago

houston

Need more

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By *lan100Man
2 days ago

Stoke and Lagos, Algarve

Really compelling. Tension, emotion, fear, character development....television rights?

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By *sfun2019Man
2 days ago

Dub North City Ireland

Loving this tough man drama

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By *estendmanMan
2 days ago

Glasgow

This is excellent Paul: it's style depth and humanity is beyond anything I've ever read on this site. Your insight and capacity for storytelling make this an extraordinary good piece of work- well done.

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By *aulishorny OP Man
2 days ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 35: Away From Everything

Reece didn’t leave with a plan.

Just his kit bag, a few hundred quid, and the ache of betrayal burning in his chest.

The night he left, he didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t want to hear the apologies that would come too late — or worse, not come at all. He packed in silence, gave his keys to the landlord, and drove until the city lights bled into cold, dark country roads.

He ended up in Cornwall.

A mate from uni — Tom — ran a kayaking centre down there and said he could use a hand. No questions asked.

Reece took it.

He swapped the pitch for open sea, the crash of tackles for the hush of waves.

The work was simple. Physical. Uncomplicated. Carry boats, teach kids balance and paddle technique, clean wetsuits.

It didn’t need words.

And for a while, that suited Reece fine.

He kept his phone off.

Deleted socials.

Buried himself in routine — early mornings, salt air, worn muscles by night. No contact. No rugby. No Jack.

But it stayed with him.

Every quiet night. Every silent walk along the dunes. Jack's face would drift in, uninvited. The anger came first — betrayal, silence, cowardice. Then confusion. Then pain.

Because for all of it — the months of secrecy, the nights of raw, tangled sex, the almosts and never-mores — he’d loved Jack.

And that was the real wound.

He wouldn’t admit it aloud, not even to Tom. But he carried it every day.

Until one late evening, the air warm with sea salt and dusk, his old phone — long ignored — buzzed on the table.

Unknown number.

He nearly let it ring out.

But something made him answer.

“Yeah?”

A pause.

Then a familiar voice: quiet, serious.

“Reece? It’s Ollie. I know this is random. But… can we talk?”

Reece stood frozen.

The sea whispered against the rocks outside.

His voice, when it came, was cautious. Guarded. But alive.

“Yeah… go on then.”

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By *unnowsexMan
2 days ago

Nr Yeovil

I gripped by this story…. Can wait for the next chapter

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By *aregay31Man
2 days ago

Marchwood Southampton

Go on ollie bring the 2 lovers back together.

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
2 days ago

Glasgow

Ollie to the rescue?

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By *aulishorny OP Man
1 day ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 36: The Halfway Point

The pub sat on the edge of nowhere — a crooked little thing with warped wooden beams and a fire that smoked more than it warmed. Perfectly neutral. No history here. No ghosts.

Reece got there early. Ordered a pint, sat near the window, watched the car park through the condensation on his glass.

When Jack walked in, he looked thinner. Like something in him had burned down and hadn’t quite grown back. But he looked Reece in the eye. That counted.

“Alright,” Jack said, settling opposite him.

Reece nodded. “Alright.”

There was silence.

Then Jack said it. “I’m sorry.”

Reece waited.

“For all of it. For not speaking up. For protecting myself instead of you. For being scared.”

Another silence.

“I was a coward, Reece. But I’ve changed. I’m trying to be… someone better.”

Reece sipped his pint, eyes unreadable. “I know.”

Jack leaned forward. “I want to try again. Not just the sex. Us. Properly. I’ve thought about it every day.”

Reece looked at him for a long moment. Then, gently:

“I’m not in love with you anymore.”

It hit like a clean break — sharp, sure, final.

“I loved you, Jack,” Reece said. “Maybe still do in a way. But not like that. Not anymore.”

Jack sat back, swallowing hard. “Is there… is there someone else?”

Reece gave a soft smile. “No. Just… me. Finally.”

Jack looked down at his hands. “So that’s it.”

“Not entirely,” Reece said. “We can still be something. Just not lovers. Not partners. But mates. Brothers, even. If that’s something you want.”

Jack’s throat tightened. Part of him wanted to scream no, to beg, to rewind time.

But he also knew — if he pushed now, he’d lose Reece completely.

So he nodded.

“Alright then. Mates.”

Reece reached across the table and squeezed his arm. Just once.

It was enough....to make Jack cry...

-----

Jack sat bolt upright in bed, his face was damp from tears and his body was covered with a sheen of sweat, the bed sheets were tangled around his limbs.

Confused and groggy he wiped an arm across his face, the dream still vivid in his memory. "Just a dream" he whispered into the darkness.

His eyes fell on the bedside clock....3:16 the neon figures screamed. Another ten hours before he met with Reece at the agreed halfway point.

He lay back into his damp bed and for the umpteenth time, rehearsed out loud what he was going to say.

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
1 day ago

Glasgow

Fear of rejection kicking in. So many of us have been there

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By *ndy300Man
24 hours ago

houston

Can't wait to see where this goes

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By *preaderMan
24 hours ago

sunderland

Dam, I’m rooting for Jack again now and hate myself for doing it. Fabulous story.

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By *nspectorrobMan
23 hours ago

bradford

A great story relates to real life, most of us have had some kind of walls that we have had to break down or manage through life.

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By *an4manlymanMan
20 hours ago

Naas..

Wow.. had be on the verge there..

understandable,relatable..

but glad it was a dream....

hope.....

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By *ers300Man
16 hours ago

West Kirby

Best story on here atm

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By *aulishorny OP Man
16 hours ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Part 37: The Halfway Back

The pub was halfway between them, by design — neutral ground, no turf, no ghosts. Just weathered wood, the low hum of a weekday crowd, and the clink of pints being set down.

Reece arrived early, as always. He hadn’t known what to expect. Just that Ollie had said, “He’s different now. If you’ve got anything left in you for this, meet him.”

He wasn’t sure if he did.

Then Jack walked in.

Different. But still him. Nervous, but no longer hiding behind it. And when he saw Reece, his face softened — not with guilt, but with something real.

Jack sat across from him, a little breathless. “Thanks for coming.”

Reece nodded. “Didn’t know if I would.”

“I didn’t expect you to. But I hoped.”

The silence stretched, not awkward — just heavy.

Jack spoke first. “I was a coward, Reece. I hurt you. I know that. And I don’t expect anything from you. But I’ve spent the last few months… trying to grow into someone who deserves what we had. Who could maybe earn it back.”

Reece didn’t reply straight away. His chest was tight.

“I’ve come out,” Jack added quietly. “To the team. My mum. Myself, most of all.”

Reece looked up at him — really looked — and saw it: the fear was still there, but so was truth.

“That took guts,” Reece said, finally.

Jack gave a soft laugh. “Not as much as it took to let you go.”

Reece’s pint sat untouched. His fingers were tense around the glass.

“I didn’t think you’d come after me,” he said.

“I didn’t know how,” Jack said, voice raw. “Didn’t know if I should. But not trying hurt worse.”

Reece’s heart was pounding now. Because he could feel it — the tug in his chest he thought had gone quiet.

He reached out, fingers brushing Jack’s across the table. “I didn’t stop loving you,” he said, just above a whisper. “I just stopped letting myself.”

Jack’s hand turned under his, fingers lacing without force, without fear.

“Then maybe,” Jack said, voice thick with everything they hadn’t said, “we could stop doing that.”

Reece looked at him — older, a little scarred, but still the man who made his world tilt.

And he smiled.

Soft. Real.

“Alright, then,” Reece said. “One more go.”

They finished their drinks. Talked about rugby. Coaching. Cornwall. Kept it light, because anything deeper might break them again.

Outside, they hugged. Not long. Not awkward. But real.

They didn’t kiss. Not here.

But they didn’t need to.

The pub was quiet. The world hadn’t changed. But they had.

And this time, they were walking into it together.

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By *ich65Man
16 hours ago

Chorley

I fully support Reece in his decision to just leave and am firmly in his camp, but now Jack is making massive strides, so should Reece give him amother chance? I just look back to my own experience.

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By *ndy300Man
16 hours ago

houston

Love where this going

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By *sfun2019Man
16 hours ago

Dub North City Ireland

Love it...a semi happy ending..I want to see these two together.....

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By *ornya1000Man
15 hours ago

Nearby

Love this story, best thing on here, so well written!

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By *ewi1964Man
14 hours ago

Albufeira Algarve

Wonderfully written and resonates so much. Looking forward to seeing how this develops further. This is the best story on Fab by miles!

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By *preaderMan
14 hours ago

sunderland

This resonates so much, except for the happy ending.

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By *ornytimeMan
13 hours ago

Cheltenham centre

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By *aulishorny OP Man
11 hours ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Epilogue: One Year On

The cottage sat on a hill just outside the village, stone-built and weather-beaten, with ivy creeping up the walls and a rugby ball half-lost in the tall grass out back. The kind of place you only find when you stop looking.

Inside, the smell of toast and fresh coffee mingled with damp dog and sun-warmed linen.

Reece padded barefoot into the kitchen, hair messy, wearing nothing but boxers and a fading club tee that wasn’t his — Jack’s old training top, stretched at the neck.

He leaned against the counter, sipping his mug, eyes still heavy with sleep.

From the other room came the low rumble of rugby commentary on the telly, and Jack’s voice over it, swearing at some dodgy ref call.

Same as every Saturday.

Reece smiled, slow and real.

They weren’t perfect. Far from it. There were still silences, sometimes. Still moments where old instincts reared — defensiveness, doubt, scars that didn’t vanish just because love returned.

But they talked.

Fought, even — better than burying it.

They were known to their team now. No drama. No whispers. Just Reece and Jack — first team, good lads, pain in the arse on the pitch, solid at the bar after.

Some nights, after training, they’d walk home together in their kit, knuckles brushing. Sometimes fingers would lace without thinking. Nobody cared. And when they got through the door, they'd fall into each other — not with desperation, but gratitude.

Because this time, they’d earned it.

Jack wandered into the kitchen, shirtless, hair wet from the shower.

He slung an arm around Reece’s waist, kissed his neck without thinking. “Coffee?”

“Yours is going cold.”

Jack grunted, took it anyway. “We’ve got that coaches' meeting later, don’t forget.”

“Already packed the kits,” Reece said. “You just focus on not winding up the head coach this time.”

“No promises.”

Reece laughed into his cup. Jack leaned in close.

“I love you, you know,” Jack said, voice soft.

Reece looked at him.

“I know,” he said. “I love you too.”

And outside, the late spring wind rolled through the tall grass. The dog barked at something unseen. And the world turned — quiet, messy, imperfect.

Exactly right.

THE END...

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By *ndy300Man
11 hours ago

houston

Surely there can be more

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By *onaberdeenMan
11 hours ago

Aberdeen

So so good Paul - thank you for your creativity, sense of reality, lust, love, loss, frustration, hope and truly excellent story telling.

Put down your keyboard for a little while . . . then start your next masterpiece.

Very much appreciated

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By *preaderMan
11 hours ago

sunderland

Paul, thank you. Maybe there is hope for us all. Something not perfect but good for your soul.

Thank you xx

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By *verage BodMan
11 hours ago

Hull

I’ve loved this story, I’m sad that it’s reached the end but thank you so much for delivering it to us, Paul. Great writing 😊

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By *ntj69Man
11 hours ago

eastbourne

Beautifully written x

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By *an4manlymanMan
10 hours ago

Naas..

Fantastic writing.. really enjoyed every instalment.... the best here by a long way..

thank you...

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By *estendmanMan
10 hours ago

Glasgow

A sublime ending. Excellent stuff Paul. I look forward to reading your next masterpiece. This has been wonderful. I just wish the whole was available to download. Thanks again

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By *lasgow verse 60s guyMan
10 hours ago

Glasgow

Thank you! So real, so true.

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By *laymate2025Man
10 hours ago

Croydon

We shall all miss Reece…and Jack x

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By *ttmguy500Man
10 hours ago

Ammanford area

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By *erBearMan
9 hours ago

Belfast

[Removed by poster at 15/07/25 23:12:25]

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By *erBearMan
9 hours ago

Belfast

A welcome Happy Ending.

If only 'In from the side' could have done the same!

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By *rnyMan
9 hours ago

nr Stroud

Thanks Paul for this rollercoaster story. Beautifully written

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By *ewi1964Man
9 hours ago

Albufeira Algarve

Thank you Paul! I've enjoyed turns and twists of this story, it's been a rollercoaster! Your ability to create tension, suspense and a desire for more at the end of each chapter is truly amazing! At times I've been breathless! I feel I know Reece and Jack mapping their individual stories throughout! I am delighted they eventually found each other. Fabulous writing! There should be an award for The best Fabguys Story of the Year you would win hands down! Thank you ❤️

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By *preaderMan
9 hours ago

sunderland

"Thank you Paul! I've enjoyed turns and twists of this story, it's been a rollercoaster! Your ability to create tension, suspense and a desire for more at the end of each chapter is truly amazing! At times I've been breathless! I feel I know Reece and Jack mapping their individual stories throughout! I am delighted they eventually found each other. Fabulous writing! There should be an award for The best Fabguys Story of the Year you would win hands down! Thank you ❤️"

Gets my vote

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By *lex43Man
8 hours ago

nr Usk

The best on here...

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By *lex43Man
2 hours ago

nr Usk

totally agree... some aspects I can personally relate too, and still going those stages at moment.

What a fantastic journey/post this was, the best one I've read, enjoyed every minute,

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By *aulishorny OP Man
1 hour ago

Rugeley/Lichfield

Thank you guys, I am absolutly blown away by the comments and support throughout. The fate of Jack and Reece was left right until the last moment as I was unsure myself where to leave it. So many of you have said you could relate to aspects of this story and I hope the ending, as written, also turned out the same way for some of you...we all deserve a happy ending.

There was a part that I wrote, then left out, because it would have revealed the ending too soon. As a final thank you, I post it here as a short story and it might answer a couple of final questions...enjoy x

Short Story: The Steady Ones

Ollie never chased drama.

He liked a clean kitchen, long showers, and mornings that started with steel-cut oats and ended with black coffee and Yusuf grumbling about late-stage capitalism.

He liked people who said what they meant. He liked bikes over cars. He liked folding laundry while Yusuf picked playlists. And he liked sleeping beside the same man every night, waking up to Yusuf’s heat and that wild, sleep-mussed hair — smelling faintly of cedar soap and oat milk shampoo.

So when Jack came knocking — half-d*unk, eyes wild, dragging heartbreak behind him like a busted shoulder — Ollie opened the door, let him in, made tea.

He listened.

Didn’t interrupt.

Let Jack flail and rage and blame and ache. Let him confess what he and Reece had been. The secrecy. The need. The mistakes.

And then he said — quietly, calmly:

“You didn’t lose him because you’re gay, Jack. You lost him because you made him feel small. You don’t fix that with big gestures. You fix that by being someone who lifts.”

Jack looked at him like he’d been slapped.

“You sound like Yusuf,” he muttered.

Ollie smirked. “That’s because Yusuf’s usually right.”

---

Three weeks later, Ollie met Reece halfway down a windswept footpath on the Cornish coast. Reece had agreed to “ten minutes, max.”

They walked in silence at first.

Ollie waited. He wasn’t in a rush.

Eventually, Reece spoke: “I don’t want to be someone’s trauma recovery project.”

“You’re not,” Ollie said. “You were someone’s mirror. Jack just wasn’t ready to look.”

Reece snorted. “Did you come up with that or steal it from a therapist?”

“Yusuf,” Ollie said. “Over breakfast. Between gulps of kale smoothie.”

They walked a little further.

“I don’t want to be hurt again,” Reece admitted, voice lower now.

“I don’t think he’s looking to hurt you,” Ollie said. “But you don’t owe him anything. Just… maybe you owe yourself the chance to see if there’s anything left.”

Reece didn’t answer right away.

But when Ollie left him with the directions to a pub halfway between them — the old middle point — Reece folded the paper in half and slipped it into his back pocket.

Ollie didn’t ask.

He didn’t need to.

---

That night, Ollie returned to the flat he shared with Yusuf. Bikes leaning against the hall wall. The sound of a documentary on soil erosion echoing from the lounge.

Yusuf was curled up on the sofa in one of Ollie’s hoodies, half-asleep, glasses skewed, hair everywhere.

“You fix the gays?” Yusuf murmured as Ollie sat beside him.

“Let’s not go that far,” Ollie said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I just nudged them in the direction of maybe not being idiots forever.”

Yusuf smiled sleepily. “Very noble.”

“Very exhausting.”

“Come here.”

They curled up together on the sofa. No fire. No drama. Just limbs tangled, steady breathing, and that quiet kind of love that doesn’t shout, but stays.

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By *an4manlymanMan
53 minutes ago

Naas..

nice one.....

was curious about Ollie..

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