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Aaron hits the ground and, not for the first time, silently questions why he's doing this, particularly after several of their teammates pile in afterwards with the hope of gaining possession of the ball. When the referee blows his whistle and everyone moves away, the pressure lifts on Aaron's chest and someone grabs his hand to pull him up.
“Enjoying yourself down there?” a deep, incredibly smug voice asks and Aaron frowns up at him, hackles already raised.
“You what?” he bites back, “What's that supposed to mean, eh?”
Even though he lets the other player yank him to his feet, Aaron immediately goes for him chest first and his fists try and get purchase in the tight front of his shirt, getting in his face with a snarl.
The referee sounds his whistle again, a more shrill, ongoing sound than the short peep that usually signals a decision and the fact that the guy is still smirking makes Aaron want to take a swing at him, but he sees Adam out of the corner of his eye come running towards them to obviously help diffuse the situation and prevent Aaron from suffering ten minutes in the sin bin.
He lets Adam catch around him, separating them, but can't resist throwing a look over his shoulder as they walk back to their teammates. He wants to scowl but his expression smooths out as the player who tackled him onto his back, winding him, takes off his grey skull cap to show a sweat-matted blonde halo of hair and two rows of surprisingly good teeth after the removal of his gum-shield. He sees them as he smiles at Aaron, like their clash is a game to him that's more than the rugby game they're in.
Escaping the wrath of the referee, Aaron decides to let his skill do the talking in the second half and shows why Exeter signed him at the start of the season by sidestepping and turning out of tackles and assisting in one of Adam's tries down the left wing. His teammates swarm around him and his best friend with congratulatory pats on the back and Aaron chances a glance at the blonde in opposition, watching him raise a mischievous eyebrow.
Aaron catches around Adam's shoulder to speak over the cheering home crowd. “Who the fuck is that?”
Adam looks confused until Aaron discreetly nods in the direction and then he grins. “Oh, the guy who's teeth you nearly knocked out in the first 20 minutes? That's Robert Sugden, Wasps' newest star attraction.”
“I wouldn't've hit him,” Aaron mumbles, twisting his name over and over in his head, shocking himself by imagining it rolling off his tongue. Robert, Robert, Robert.
Adam shakes his head and jogs into position, leaving Aaron to stew in his new-found information. He's so distracted that in the next ten minutes, he drops the ball not once but twice, giving Wasps an opportunity to attack and also doesn't quite tackle Robert enough until it's too late.
Arms wrapped around his solid, flexing thighs and with a view of his back and broad shoulders, Aaron skids along the pitch with him before they eventually come to a stop in the mud near the dead ball line, the ball having already been successfully carried over for a try by Robert. Aaron scrambles to move away, but he isn't quick enough and Robert subtly grabs the pocket of his black shorts to keep him leaning over his body in a reverse of earlier in the match.
“Come here often?” he chuckles, his laugh probably as naughty as he is.
“In your dreams, maybe,” Aaron grumbles, scrapping his knee in his haste to finally stand up.
Robert doesn't seem to mind that he's been left there on the muddy edges of the pitch, the yellow stripes on the sides of his shirt sodden brown and Aaron has to admit that it's nice to see someone playing with a smile, enjoying their rugby with a passion he can understand because he feels it too. Without his club, he wouldn't be picked to play in big crucial Premiership matches or for England. He's never seen Robert internationally before, so he guesses he hasn't got his cap yet, but with the way he's played today – determined to the point of boiling over, cheeky with his skill set and largely respectful of the professional decisions, Aaron wouldn't be surprised if that changes soon.
He tells himself that's why he storms into the away changing room after the game, to commiserate over a tight win of 21 – 24 to Exeter Chiefs and for Wasps to keep their heads up, but his feet carry him straight to Robert and he jerks his thumb behind, only realising in another blink that Robert is shirtless and he's also taken off his dirty boots. He follows Aaron to the showers anyway, not occupied yet because they'd barely got into the room before Aaron peeled away from his team and gatecrashed just after their coach's post-match talk.
Robert's tongue sweeps his lips as Aaron pushes him into the wall hard and his socks grow damp, their lips colliding like they tackled each other out there. It feels like Robert was waiting and wanting this, flirting, because he gives as good as he gets and his big hands frame Aaron's face, cheeks hot from exertion and prickly with his beard. Aaron feels the hard plains of Robert's torso press into his and whilst he's a lot prettier than the men he usually goes for, the scent of fresh sweat and the smears of blood and grass is enough to get his blood pumping mostly south.
However, he's still aware that anyone could interrupt them, so he breaks their kiss with a slick noise and touches Robert's bare waist with a trembling grip, wishing he had a shirt to tug.
“Don't ever do that to me again, Robert!” he hisses and feels Robert's fingers brush his side as he leaves without another word, striding out as purposefully as he came in so as not to arouse suspicion.
Everyone has known he's gay for a few years now, the first in his sport to come out, but that doesn't mean he wants everybody to see him with his tongue down another man's throat, especially a virtual stranger like Robert Sugden. Obviously he can guess that Robert likes blokes too, but Aaron has no idea about much else.
It's not an issue though. He's had a couple of drinks with Wasps centre Pete Barton in his time with England and he hopes Robert has the brains to make the next move by getting Aaron's name and number from Pete.
A week later and as he's parking his car at the training ground, Aaron's phone pings with a text message and he smiles, triumphant.