Sin Bin

Chapter One

Gray

Amix of excitement and tension filled the air as I positioned myself on the rugby pitch. I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with every match course through me.

This was only a practice game, since the season didn’t start for another week. Even though it was only a practice game, we were facing our biggest rivals, the Seadogs. There was no way our team would half-ass this game. Our goal was to bury these guys in the ground, and as the eighthman, I had a crucial role to play in our team’s defense and attack.

Whatever happened, I couldn’t let anything distract me from our team’s goal. Nothing was going to take my focus today. Not even the one person who the mere thought of him caused an underlying current of nerves behind the adrenaline.

This was the last shot, for each player was eager to showcase their skills for the coaches and prove why they should get into the starting lineup. I’d already confirmed my spot as a starter last year, and there wasn’t anyone on the team that could take it from me.

I spotted my opposite number across the field, showing the eighthman for the other team. I kept the disappointment off my face when it wasn't who I'd expected—or hoped.

It was a first-year player whose nerves were clear to see. He kicked his feet and swung his arms more than what was needed to stretch for the game. And the longer I observed him, the more I watched his gaze drift again and again to the bench. Specifically, to his team’s sidelines and the tall, dark-skinned man on the bench.

I jerked my gaze away after that tiny glance. I couldn’t let myself get distracted like my opponent. But… was he distracted by the man for the same reason I was? The scowl that crept over his face with each glance said that wasn’t the reason.

The kid puffed out his chest and a smirk crept across my face as an idea formed in my mind. Something I pulled out when the situation called for it. And this situation definitely needed it.

As the referee blew the whistle to start the game, my head was in the game. I focused on keeping my position and tracking the ball's movement. But now and then, I would glance over, making sure the other player noticed, before smiling. I wanted to mess with his mind, get him off-balance, and bait him into making mistakes.

The game was intense right from the start, which was expected by the Seadogs. They weren’t one of the top-ranked teams in the division for no reason. Even with all their experience our team quickly gained momentum, securing the ball and pushing forward.

As the ball moved towards our try line, I could feel the opposing eighthman's eyes on me, his determination palpable. Our fly-half executed a clever kick, aiming to find a touch deep in their territory. As the ball sailed towards the touchline, I glanced at the eighthman and saw him drifting to his right, anticipating the ball's trajectory.

But I knew the kick wasn't going out. Instead, I hurtled forward with all my might, reaching out with one hand to snatch the ball from mid-air, just inches away from going out of bounds. The opposing eighthman's eyes widened in surprise, realizing he had taken the bait. I grinned, knowing I had him right where I wanted him.

Quickly, I darted back towards the field, looking for an opening. The eighthman, recovering from his misjudgment, started closing in on me. I could sense his anger, frustration, and embarrassment. That only fueled my determination. I zigzagged through the defenders. My years of conditioning gave me a great sense of agility. That along with practiced footwork helped to create a space in their defense.

But as I neared the halfway line, I felt a heavy tackle crashing into my side, taking me down to the ground. It was him, seeking revenge for his momentary lapse in judgment. I winced in pain but couldn't help chuckling to myself. The bait had worked, and I had gotten under his skin.

Nice move, Sweetheart, I said.

His round eyes snapped to mine. What?

I winked at him. as I got up quickly and returned to my position. As the game progressed, I kept baiting the opposing eighthman, flirting with him with all my charm. It was a mental battle as much as a physical one, and I was determined to come out on top.

The next tackle I had him on the ground under me. I took a little longer to get up than necessary and ran my eyes over his chest.

You must like to bottom. You keep finding yourself under me. My voice, already breathless from the game, came out husky. It was the same one that had twinks fighting for the chance to bend over for me. If only that was what I wanted, things would be perfect.

What the fuck did you say? he said, his expression a mix of hatred and disgust.

Just making an observation, I said, with another wink.

He shoved at my chest and scrambled to his feet. Within seconds we were back at it as my team took possession of the ball. With every successful evasion or tackle, his frustration grew. He started taking more risks to avoid me when I charged him.

My teammates noticed what was happening and capitalized on it. Each play they tried to involve me in any way. And each time, my mind games would draw the opposing eighthman away from his defensive line.

It was the perfect weapon against their team. As the game wore on, I created more opportunities for my teammates to exploit the gaps I had opened up. And yet, the Seadogs coach never once replaced him. Anyone with eyes could see that he was the weak link in their defensive line. Was he staying in because the coach wanted to keep Tucker fresh for the actual games?

With the clock winding down, we found ourselves tied, with one last opportunity to score and win the game. Our full-back sent the ball out wide, and I could feel the opposing eighthman already drifting towards me. But this time, I did something unexpected.

As I received the ball, instead of running forward, I launched a cross-field kick, sending the ball soaring toward the corner of the field. The opposing eighthman, convinced I would make a break for it, had little time to react to the unexpected move. He sprinted after the ball, but it bounced perfectly for one of our wingers, who seized the opportunity and dashed past him, scoring the winning try.

The final whistle blew, and our team erupted into cheers of victory. We had won, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. My baiting had paid off, and I had not only outmaneuvered my opponent physically, but mentally as well.

After the match, as the teams were heading to their locker rooms, I paused on the field. My eyes finally drifted to the player I had avoided looking at for the entire game, once it started. I hadn't wanted the distraction. If I'd given in, I might have wound up in the same position as the eighthman I'd taunted and teased into giving us the game.

But as my eyes drank in the sight of him, a part of me couldn't wait for the day he would be opposite me, even if it meant taking a loss for the team.

Chapter Two

Tucker

The bar was packed as a few of my teammates, and I stepped inside. We ditched the team bus ride