“I don't think that's a good idea.” Luigi looked away. His voice wasn't angry or bitter, just resigned and sad.
“You sporting blokes, you jocks, you want men like yourself. If you even want a man at all. You don't want someone like me.” Unsaid was the thought I'll just get hurt.
This was so close to what Jason had been thinking that he coloured. “Yes, maybe,” he agreed, “but, I don't know, Luigi, you're special.” He looked away, oddly embarrassed. How absurd that was! They had been as physically intimate as it's possible to be. “If you must know,” he said addressing the ceiling, “I want to do it again. Now.”
“Oh, straight boy,” sighed Luigi. “Don't play games. You can go back to your straight-boy world, you can get yourself a wife and kids. I can't. This is always going to be my place.”
Jason had nothing to say to that. He was obliged to continue the deception. He couldn't now admit what he was. He could only express his sympathy and empathy with his body. He hugged Luigi, and kissed him on his forehead. But it didn't help the unhappiness in either of their hearts.
[The pic is of David Williams, an NRL (Rugby) player. I've mentioned him before, here and here. The usual disclaimer applies: I'm not implying he's gay or even happy, just because his photo appears in this blog]