Muscle and Mercy – Part 1: The Physio Who Said No

The clinic was in a converted warehouse in Surry Hills, all exposed brick and polished concrete and the faint smell of eucalyptus oil. Dominic had booked the appointment online, scrolled through the staff photos, and felt his stomach drop when he saw the name.

Felipe Vargas, Senior Physiotherapist.

Seven years ago, at a rugby club party in Bondi, Felipe had been the only man in the room who hadn't tried to flirt with him. Dominic had been drunk, a little reckless, and entirely certain of his charm. He had leaned in close and asked if he could buy him a drink. Felipe had smiled, kindly, and said, No, thanks. But I hope you find someone who makes you happy.

Dominic had never forgotten the way it felt to be turned down so gently.

Now he sat on the treatment table in the back room, leg stretched out, knee aching, and waited.

The door opened. Felipe walked in with a clipboard, dark hair neatly cut, forearms bare under a white shirt, and stopped dead when he saw who was sitting there.

"Dominic," he said. His voice was carefully neutral.

"Felipe," said Dominic. "Hello. Long time."

"Seven years," said Felipe. "I thought you'd moved to Queensland."

"I did. For about three months. Then the knee gave up and I came back to be fixed by the only physio I trust." Dominic smiled, a little ruefully. "Sorry. That sounded more romantic than I meant it to."

Felipe didn't smile back. He sat down on the stool beside the table and looked at the knee, professionally, with his hands cool and careful against the swollen joint.

"Torn meniscus," he said. "You've been doing too many squats and not enough sleep."

"Rugby does that."

"Rugby doesn't make you ignore pain," said Felipe. "You do."

The room was quiet for a moment. Dominic could hear the traffic on Crown Street, faint and distant.

"I'm sorry," said Dominic, suddenly. "For the party. For being an idiot."

"You weren't an idiot," said Felipe. "You were drunk and young and very handsome. That's not the same thing."

"You remember me as handsome?"

"I remember you as the man who made me laugh for twenty minutes and then forgot my name," said Felipe. He stood, clipboard in hand, and his expression softened, just slightly. "Let's see if you can do your exercises this time without showing off."

"I never showed off."

"You did a backflip into the pool at Bondi."

"That was a dare."

"I know," said Felipe, and for the first time, he smiled. "I was the one who dared you."

Dominic laughed, and winced as his knee protested, and Felipe's hand came down on his shoulder, steady and warm.

"Green?" Felipe asked, low, his fingers still resting lightly on Dominic's skin.

"Green," said Dominic. "Very green. Seven years of green, in fact."

"Good," said Felipe quietly. "Then let's start with the stretches, and we'll talk about the rest once you can walk up the stairs without swearing."