Home Goal and My Goal: Two Gay Footballers Stories

by H J Perry

He heard the movement as Carlos stood up and stepped up behind him. He came close enough that Harry could feel him pressed against his back. Warm and comforting.

  "I wasn't sure about you either. It just seems like we have something special between us. If I was wrong, if you were one hundred percent hetero, I didn't think you'd judge me."

  Harry couldn't help but smile. It was other people judging him that held him back. That turned him into the repressed wreck of a man that he was. Despite walking alongside him through the homophobic macho jungle of professional football, Carlos managed to see past the baggage. He managed to see that Harry wouldn't judge.

  Harry turned to the sofa and sat down. "I don't want to spoil our friendship or our working relationship at BSC."

  Carlos sat down alongside him. "Are you into this at all? What if we didn't work together?"

  Unused to this type of conversation, Harry felt his face heating up. He was almost certainly blushing. He reminded himself again that Carlos had taken the risk here by laying out his feelings for examination.

  He reached out to clasp Carlos's hand. "I think you can tell I am. But I don't do casual sleeping around."

  CARLOS

  Carlos had been there countless times before: making out with someone, hoping to spend the night together, and hoping to take the action much further. He'd been there before, but not in this apartment.

  Not since he'd met Harry.

  There was no mistaking Harry's enthusiasm, his heavy breathing, his prominent bulge. Harry had kissed him back, not pushed him away. Harry didn't even seem surprised, but took it in his stride, as if guys regularly made passes at him. And perhaps they did. Why shouldn't they? Harry was goddamn near irresistible.

  Their fingers knitted together where Harry's had taken his hand. Carlos hesitantly reached out with the other hand and rested it on Harry's face as they gazed into each other's eyes.

  Carlos absentmindedly traced an imaginary trail around Harry's jaw with his thumb, trekking over the well-past five o'clock shadow. It was a face so handsome, so damned attractive, so utterly kissable that Carlos spent far too much time looking at it. It was a wonder no one had commented about the lingering, longing looks that passed one way between them too often.

  Nevertheless, Carlos could sense the reticence. Something was holding Harry back. Even though Carlos couldn't understand it, he didn't want to push for too much too fast. His interest in Harry was not as a one-night stand but for so much more.

  Harry didn't do one-night stands. Didn't sleep around. Carlos had already guessed that. Everything about Harry's values suggested he was a relationship and marriage kind of guy.

  "Harry, I may have given you the wrong impression. I'm not trying to drag you into my bed for a night of fun just because there's nobody else here. I want to be with you. Not only tonight but in the full sense of being with you. Partners, dating, boyfriends."

  Harry's eyes widened, and he tilted his head slightly to the right.

  They'd already spent enough time together to convince Carlos that if there was anyone compatible enough for a long-term relationship and possibly marriage, it was Harry.

  "If you want to stay here on the sofa in front of the TV and cuddle, I'm good with that too," Carlos said. "I can see in your face this has come as a surprise to you. Would you like another beer?"

  To Carlos's immense relief Harry agreed to stay, drink more beer, and cuddle on the sofa.

  They watched another film, an old thriller. It wasn't one they'd chosen, just one that came on the TV. Even though everything could have been weird between them, it wasn't. It was exactly like any other time that they sat watching TV. They talked crap about what they saw. They drank beer. And when they finished the beer, they kissed. By halfway through the film, they weren't watching it at all. They were flat out on the sofa kissing, cuddling, and making out like teenagers.

  Unlike teenagers, they were exhausted.

  They fell asleep in each other's arms.

  The TV was still on when Carlos stirred from an uncomfortable sleep.

  Aware of the body beside him, he was instantly alert and ecstatic. He'd confessed how he felt, and Harry was still there. The attraction was apparently mutual.

  Pins and needles persecuted one arm where Harry's sleeping body restricted the blood flow. Carlos didn't want to wake Harry, but he couldn't leave him there on the sofa. Carlos reached for the remote control and turned off the TV.

  "Come on, Harry. Let's sleep in my room. It's more comfortable." Carlos knelt beside the sofa, shaking Harry gently.

  Harry stretched out sleepily.

  "Harry, come and get into bed."

  Harry opened his eyes and sat up. Alarm flashed across his face.

  "It's late. We both fell asleep. Come and sleep in my bed." You can keep your clothes on, Carlos thought.

  Slowly Harry stood up. "I'm gonna head up to my own place."

  "Oh, okay," said Carlos. A rising sense of panic within him chased away the remaining fatigue. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

  Not an unreasonable question as they'd seen each other every single day since early September, whether they had work or not. Carlos had ensured that.

  "Yes, sure. See you tomorrow." Harry said as he headed towards the door rather quickly for a man who had just woken up. He was out of the door without even looking back.

  It wasn't a complete rejection, but Carlos's heart still felt heavy. Twenty-four hours earlier Harry was the object of Carlos's secret crush, and he had no way of knowing whether he stood a chance, whether Harry was into guys. As he watched Harry leave, he'd had just a tiny taste of how glorious things could be.

  But he still had no way of knowing whether Harry felt the same.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  December

  CARLOS

  Acres of cold, empty cotton space lay on either side of him as Carlos felt lonelier than ever in his bed. He should feel elated after last night and the kisses and cuddles that they shared. Harry was open for something between them. That much was clear. The evening confirmed that not only was he into guys, but he seemed to be into Carlos. He should feel optimistic and encouraged.

  But then there was the way Harry left.

  And the way he hadn't returned Carlos's texts that morning.

  Sober, and in the cold light of day, did Harry regret what passed between them?

  Carlos lay in bed awake for hours; it seemed he'd never sleep.

  Eventually, he slept and woke up late.

  He wondered if Harry had already left for his mother's house and church. They hadn't discussed a time.

  With his phone in his hand, Carlos sent one more "Good morning" into the ether and got out of bed to get ready, assuming he was still in time for church. There were so many things Harry could be doing that meant he hadn't seen the message yet and wasn't explicitly ignoring Carlos.

  On every team he played, there had been a few religious people who had to work prayer into their daily routine, or who talked about how their religion shaped their lives. Mostly people kept their religious convictions, or lack of them, to themselves. And Carlos hadn't imagined Harry as religious unless he was sneaking off to church in the few minutes of the day when they weren't together.

  Harry never spoke about Christianity except when talking about his parents or his brother. Religion was obviously a big thing for them, though perhaps not for Harry himself.

  There were no Christian symbols in Harry's apartment. No crucifixes on the walls, no bibles lying on the coffee table, and no pictures of the Virgin Mary anywhere to be seen.

  It was unlike Carlos's childhood memories of homes in Spain. But things had changed a lot over the past fifteen or twenty years and to Carlos, Spain felt almost as secular as England.

  The players who'd known Harry for years saw him as a fountain of biblical wisdom, but the source of that reputation wasn't obvious to a newcomer, even though Carlos could almost qualify as Harry's stalker.

  As an Agnostic, Carlos could do church. He'd
spent his childhood moving through Roman Catholic schools. He knew enough about Christianity to hold his own with any group in any church gathering. Which was just as well, because he had the impression that Harry's background was of the more evangelical type.

  It wasn't God that motivated him this Sunday morning; it was getting to know Harry better by discovering the things that were important to him and his background.

  He was going to meet Harry's mother, Mrs. Carter, a widow. Harry's brother was now a missionary. Carlos figured Mrs. Carter would probably ask about his family, so he picked up his iPad ready to bring photographs. He wondered what reaction he'd get. He was going to meet Harry's mom. And he was prepared. He was willing to make the most of the day to achieve his goals.

  He just needed to track down Harry.

  HARRY

  What happened? Harry was there, but he couldn't explain it. It seemed to come from nowhere. One minute he was sitting watching the TV with Carlos, as he had many times before. The next minute he was reliving that teenage experience from many years ago, but better.

  What was Carlos's angle? That's what Harry couldn't understand.

  Despite all that happened last night, Harry knew Carlos was straight. Well, maybe he was bisexual, but even if that were true, there was no way a man like Carlos could seriously want to date Harry. Not when he could choose from many beautiful women. Why choose the socially unacceptable option, when it was so much easier to do as expected and go with girls?

  And yet Harry's pulse raced, and butterflies fluttered around his stomach when he remembered Carlos specifically said he wasn't looking for one night of fun. He wanted them to be boyfriends. What crazy talk.

  What a crazy year 2012 turned out to be. It started with Harry discovering a gay teammate, and becoming good friends with that man's boyfriend. That couple proved it was possible to be gay, and have a relationship, and be a professional footballer. A combination Harry previously believed impossible.

  He was almost at their building. Time for a quick shower after his run before he left for church. He'd hoped to avoid Carlos and confront the issues raised from the previous night.

  In his apartment, he could see he'd missed calls and messages from Carlos on his phone that he'd left at home. He couldn't avoid the man, but he could reply when he was ready to leave. Harry brought up the taxi app and booked a cab to take him to church. If Carlos insisted on coming along, Harry made sure they were chaperoned for the journey so as to avoid any difficult conversations.

  CARLOS

  When he finally heard from Harry, the succinct text message stated that the taxi would be there in five minutes. Carlos made a snap decision about appropriate clothing—smart casual—and was ready in record time. The taxi was already waiting when Carlos reached the ground floor with his iPad in his hand, phone, and wallet in pocket.

  "We are meeting my mom at the church and then we are going to visit her next-door neighbors from her previous home. They live in the house next to where I grew up. So don't judge me."

  "We all grew up somewhere."

  There wasn't going to be any discussion about the previous evening, not just yet. Nevertheless, Harry was his usual self; nothing seemed to have changed for good or bad. When they arrived at the church, there was already a large crowd gathered. It seemed as if everybody must already be there. Harry knew most of the congregation, which was evident by the smiles and nods, if not the handshakes and introductions.

  "Mom, this is Carlos. I told you about him. Carlos, this is my mom."

  "I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Carter," Carlos said, holding out his hand and hoping to make a good impression.

  Mrs. Carter was standing with a crowd of people. Carlos discovered they were the family who lived next door to Harry as he grew up, Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright and their teenage daughter, Bethany.

  "You are coming to dinner with us after church, I hope?" asked Mrs. Cartwright.

  Carlos looked at Harry, who nodded.

  "If I'm invited, I'd be delighted to attend."

  There was a lot more singing in Harry's church than Carlos was used to. The building was full of people of all ages. For the most part, they looked cheerful, and there was a great atmosphere. It was just as well, since the service seemed to go on for hours.

  And when it ended most people lingered to talk for longer. To these people, the Sunday morning commitment to church was a major event. After church, Carlos wasn't sure whether he should be disappointed in not visiting Harry's mom in her current home, which Harry had bought for her, or pleased about the opportunity to see Harry's childhood home from the outside and visit a family in a house that was its mirror image.

  It was a small, humble family dwelling, of the type that so many footballers were brought up in, and in sharp contrast to the homes in which they could now afford to live. Like most footballers, Carlos had bought his parents a house. As a single man and new to the city, he rented an apartment. But as a wealthy millionaire, he had an impressive property portfolio. He expected Harry had one too.

  While Mrs. Cartwright disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the meal, the rest of them sat around a table already laid for dinner.

  Bethany appeared as if she didn't want to be there, a typical teenager. Mr. Cartwright was keen to talk about football. Mrs. Carter listened politely. When there was a sufficient lull in the conversation, Carlos took the opportunity to steer it.

  "What will you be doing for Christmas, Harry?" Carlos asked. It was a deliberately calculated question.

  "We go to church on Christmas Eve every year, and I stay with Mom. Then we meet up with the team on Christmas Day in the afternoon for our pre-match hotel stay. I have always played in a match the next day. I take it for granted."

  The twenty-sixth of December was one of the biggest, busiest football days in the English calendar.

  "I think it's a bit much that they don't let you stay with your families at Christmas. You could get up early and travel to the game on Boxing Day," said Mr. Cartwright.

  "It's how they do things. We're used to it. It's not as if we'll play forever," Carlos responded.

  "What about your plans, Carlos?" asked Mrs. Carter. "Will you see your family at Christmas?"

  "Sadly no," Carlos replied. "Mom and Dad went back to live in Spain a few years ago. My brother lives there too. He's in Madrid."

  Carlos picked up his iPad from the table. "I have photographs." His seemingly innocent directing of the conversation was flowing so smoothly. "So I'll pretty much be on my own until we meet up with the team in the afternoon on Christmas Day. I might do some training in the morning. Perhaps go for a run."

  Mrs. Carter looked at Harry and tilted her head. "Harry?"

  Harry said, "Would you like to join us for Christmas? I can see that Mom hates to think of you on your own."

  Carlos hoped he wasn't too obvious in his calculation, but it worked. "I'd love to join you. It would mean a lot to me. I miss a family Christmas. Would you like to see some pictures of my family?"

  "I'd love to," said Mrs. Carter.

  He tapped the code in his iPad and clicked on the photo album. He knew exactly where the photos were that he wanted to share. He'd sorted them out earlier into one particular album.

  "This is my mom."

  "She is very beautiful," said Mrs. Carter.

  She had long, thick, jet-black hair pinned up on her head with decorative flowers in this particular photograph. Her skin was golden-tanned, her makeup professionally done, and she wore an exclusive designer dress.

  Carlos laughed. "She is very Spanish. She doesn't always look like that. It was a special occasion."

  He passed the iPad around for everyone to see. When it returned to Carlos, he brushed his finger over the screen across to bring up the next picture. "My parents together."

  His dad was in a suit, making the special occasion more evident. Again everybody took a turn to look. Bethany quickly passed the iPad on to the next person.

  Carlos was most interested
to see reactions to what he had to say about the third picture. From where he was sitting it was difficult to look at Mrs. Carter beside him, but Harry was directly in sight, seated across the table opposite him.

  "All of these pictures are taken at my brother's wedding. They are a few years old...three years, I think." He pulled up the third picture.

  "Oh, they look so smart. Your mom and dad make a lovely couple. Will we see your brother and his wife next?" Mr. Cartwright returned the iPad.

  "This is my brother, José, and his husband, Peter."

  A flicker of surprise briefly flashed over Harry's face, and then it was gone. Carlos only saw it because he was looking for it.

  "Oh." There was a definite tone of surprise and disapproval in Mrs. Carter's voice.

  Her face wrinkled as she examined the image as if she could have misheard and was looking for a bride.

  "Men can marry men in Spain?" Mrs. Carter looked confused. "I must admit I am surprised that's possible. I thought Spain was a religious country."

  No one in England seemed to know that same-sex marriage had been legal in Spain for many years.

  They politely passed the iPad around with no further comment. Bethany took more notice of this image. Undeterred, pretending not to notice the shock and disapproval that he detected, Carlos swiped the screen yet again for another photograph.

  "This is my parents, my brother and me, and Peter as the new addition to our family." He liked this photo particularly because it was exactly as he'd described. Peter was being welcomed by the family. "As you can see my brother is older than me, and not nearly as handsome."

  "Forgive me for asking," said Mrs. Carter, "but your mom and dad, they don't mind your brother and this man?"

  "His husband," Carlos corrected. "They are married."

  "In Spain, they are married, but I find that hard to accept. In my religion and this country, only men and women can get married."