Home Goal and My Goal: Two Gay Footballers Stories

by H J Perry

  Harry was obviously telling him something that had been a dreadful experience from his past, but Carlos couldn't help grinning. It sounded like something he'd have been well up for as a teenager.

  "So obviously we did kiss. It was the first time I'd ever kissed a guy. Even though I was panicking, and wondering how to get out of the situation, my body had a different agenda. I got a boner as soon as they suggested it and you felt it. You couldn't miss it. Even though we were dressed and supposed to be putting on a show for the girls."

  "Oh my God, Harry. I was probably drunk because I definitely don't remember but it sounds like something I'd have been well up for. As I'm sure you've noticed by now, I like cock too."

  "I was so wrapped up in staying in the closet; it never crossed my mind you might actually like it."

  “That's why I'd kiss you. Wasn't I hard too?"

  "I thought you were mucking about, and I ran from the room. For years I just felt humiliated when I thought about it."

  "Honestly Harry." Under the covers, Carlos covered Harry's soft dick with his hand and peppered his face with kisses.

  "Now you know how much I want this dick of yours. I may have been more interested in you than whatever those girls had to offer. And here we are. Your dick in my hand but who knows where those girls are and who cares?"

  "So what does this all mean for us when we get back to real life?" asked Harry.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  January

  HARRY

  "At last we get to meet you. Welcome, Harry." Bella held her arms open wide for a hug. Carlos's mother looked as elegant as she had in the photo of her attending her son's wedding.

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Garcia." Harry went in for the hug and wondered at her comment, at last? Had Carlos talked about him?

  "Please, call me Bella. I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you arrived. Carlos, you should have warned me what time you were coming." Her English was impeccable though she spoke with an accent. The whole family had lived in England for a decade.

  "Don't worry mom; I've been the perfect host, entertaining Harry."

  Harry didn't dare look in Carlos's direction; he could already feel the heat rising to his cheeks. They had hurriedly dressed when they heard the car pull up outside. And entered the living area at the same time that Mrs. Garcia walked in laden with shopping bags.

  "You've offered Harry a drink? Food?"

  "Not yet. We stopped in a café on the way here. I've just shown Harry around."

  Thinking about what he'd seen while being supposedly shown around, Harry felt embarrassed and uncomfortable. He'd never been someone's boyfriend before, and here he was, all of a sudden, meeting his boyfriend's mother. What's more, she couldn't possibly know about their relationship, because they'd only just discussed it themselves.

  "Carlos, would you bring in wood from the shed and light a fire in the hearth while Harry helps me bring in the rest of my shopping?"

  Carlos responded with a grin. "Don't work him too hard he needs a rest."

  Damn you, Carlos, and your innuendo.

  "They work us very hard through December in English football. I think La Liga have more of a Christmas break." Harry felt compelled to justify Carlos's comment.

  "Come on, boys."

  Harry followed Bella to the car; Carlos disappeared in a different direction.

  "Harry my son is very fond of you, he speaks about you all the time," she said when they were outside.

  "Does he call you often?" Harry wasn't sure which surprised him most, Carlos talking about him or speaking with his parents frequently. He never portrayed himself as someone so close to his family, and yet seeing him here. Clearly, they were very close.

  "Every week and he always talks about you, ever since he joined that new football team. You were the star of the team to him, so much so that we had to look you up on the Internet." She opened the trunk of the car. Harry saw just two bags in it, not much of a chore.

  "I promised myself I would not be an interfering mother, but I cannot stand by and watch my younger son get hurt as life slips by."

  Harry cocked his head, not entirely sure what she was getting at.

  "I think he's messing it up. It's not for me to tell you. He should tell you himself." She picked out the bags, handed them to Harry, and closed the trunk.

  "I knew it when I used to listen to him on the phone, talking about you, and now you are here. I've been with you only for minutes and I see how he looks at you."

  Harry stood holding the bags and listening to Bella. She remained stationary by the vehicle and made no attempt to go indoors. The surprise at what he heard must have shown on his face.

  "You seem like a nice young man and I hope you're not going to break his heart."

  Harry didn't know how to respond but honestly. "I don't plan to."

  "He's crazy about you?"

  "Yes. I found out recently." Harry found it hard to believe that Carlos's mother knew, and they were having this conversation.

  "So long as you know." She smiled but didn't move as if waiting for more information.

  "I rather like him too."

  "That's a relief. Now, José and Peter are coming for dinner; that's my older son and his husband. We all speak English, so you should feel at home."

  CARLOS

  "I'm not ready to tell people, Carlos," said Harry when they were finally alone in the bedroom.

  They'd left Bella and Ron still talking in front of the dying embers on the hearth where earlier a fire warmed the home. José and Peter had left some time ago, facing the journey ahead of them and an early start for work in the morning.

  Carlos squeezed Harry's hand. The same one he'd been holding for…he'd lost track of time. His brain flooded with Rioja; his stomach heavy with paella; all he knew was it was way past late o'clock.

  He'd got closer and closer to Harry through the evening. When he got to his feet, his fingers were threaded through Harry's, so he dragged Harry along with him. Did his family notice? Probably. Did it matter? No. Not to Carlos.

  "I didn't tell any of them," said Carlos. Taking hold of Harry's other hand and pulling him close. "But I think they must have guessed."

  He wanted to kiss Harry's lips. He'd not had nearly enough time alone with Harry; not enough time for kissing.

  "I meant other people. The football club, my family, the public. Your family definitely knows. Your mom already told me."

  Harry shivered. It was cold in the bedrooms, away from the central fireplace.

  "She did?" Carlos let go of the hands so that he could wrap his arms around Harry, get really close to him. So close that even if their lips weren't touching, nothing could pass between their bodies.

  "Yes, as soon I met her, she told me you're crazy about me."

  "Good God. Can't a man have a conversation and trust his mother's confidence." Crinkled surrounded his eyes as he smiled. "It's true I've been crazy about you for months, and that's why I made it my job to become your shadow. I did tell you that ages ago; I didn't just dream this up yesterday. But, I didn't tell her anything either."

  "No. You didn't need to; she worked it out. Apparently, it's the way you talk about me. In just the same way as Jason noticed the way you look at me." Harry bit his lip and looked away.

  "Jason has talked to you about me?" Carlos wondered. It was not unreasonable that these guys talk to each other after all Harry and Jason were once neighbors.

  "I shouldn't have said anything. It's awkward. Jason has said a few things to Scott and Scott's put two and two together."

  "So it's true what they say about him. Him being a mathematical genius."

  Harry appeared even more lovely when he laughed. He'd laughed a lot that night. Harry and Peter were an attentive audience to the noisy Garcia family who competed for attention, with their jokes and stories.

  The laugh turned into a stifled yawn.

  "Sorry if I'm keeping you up. But I didn't tell my mom anything, she obviously read betw
een the lines. And as she already has one gay son, maybe she recognized the signs."

  "I'm sorry," Harry said with another yawn.

  "You don't have to sleep in this room with me, Harry." Carlos wanted him to stay but didn't want him to feel under pressure.

  "I want to. I've spent years of my life sleeping alone, and they'll be lots of times in the future sleeping in hotels the night before a game. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay right here with you."

  "It's not all the same to me, Harry, it's perfect. And a wise choice. It get's cold in the night and we may need to snuggle up."

  The excessive food and drink and the lateness of the hour along with a comfortable bed should have seen them both asleep within minutes. But laying next to each other in the dark and without clothes. Sleep wasn't going to happen. They both knew that.

  Initially, they lay side-by-side on their backs. Tentatively touching each other with the fingers that were closest. After a very short while, first Harry and then Carlos turned onto his side. They were face to face.

  Carlos reached up to trail his fingers over Harry's chest. Experiencing the rise and fall with each breath. Noting the firm pecs and soft wiry hair; so different to a woman's, so masculine and, because it was Harry, so damned sexy.

  Carlos would rather sacrifice sleep at night than miss a minute enjoying alone time with Harry.

  The fingers continued, lightly passing over the flat stomach and made contact with the hard cock beside it. The hard wet dick. A string of precum leaking toward the bed. Carlos enjoyed the sound of the whimper when he wrapped his fingers around Harry's dick. The precum acted as lube, as Carlos slipped his palm up and down the shaft.

  "Fuck, Carlos. I want…"

  "What?"

  Whatever it was, Harry couldn't say it. He moved his head forward to lock their mouths together in a hungry kiss and his hands eagerly seized hold of Carlos's dick. With a rough and eager enthusiasm that delighted.

  "I want you, Harry. Want everything with you."

  He couldn't not do it. Firmly, he pushed Harry over onto his back so that Carlos was atop. Their mouths connected. Their legs locked together. And in all, there was little space between them. Harry pinned below moaned and writhed, thrusting up against Carlos who in turn rutted against the man below him.

  He couldn't not thrust against Harry's stomach. Their cocks trapped between them. Pre-cum lubing them into slippery heaven.

  Harry's hand forced its way between their bodies and grasped at Carlos's dick with the most spectacularly satisfying grip. And, Oh My God. Harry had hold of both their dicks. Together. It felt like better than sex. Carlos had to watch, too. Lifting himself up. Because it looked better than porn. Better than all the times he'd watched his own dick doing some fucking fun, good stuff. Here he was watching his own dick. And Harry's dick. Having fucking fun. And. Fuck.

  "I want you, Harry. I fucking love you so much. I'm gonna..."

  He did.

  They both did.

  They cleaned up. They kissed. Only for one moment, Carlos wondered if he should've said what he did. I love you. But he'd said it, and it was true.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  January 2013

  HARRY

  The sound. Unmistakable. No need to look.

  Chris Stutter, the agent; Harry had given him a unique ringtone shortly after their first conversation of the year in January. The weeks had gone by fairly swiftly after that first conversation about a possible transfer.

  For any professional footballer, if a team like Barcelona offered to pay off the rest of your existing contract in addition to a handsome sum of money towards the following years’ contracts, you don't hesitate, you go. Nine out of ten of BSCs current squad would have booked the next flight to Spain for the medical examination, and downloaded a teach yourself Spanish app to their iPads. Harry didn't.

  Barcelona had put forward an offer that was too good to refuse to the club, but BSC could not sell Harry without Harry's agreement. After all, they had a contract. Terminating the contract meant paying Harry all of the money due him over the next three years. It would be a terrific bonus since the new team would pay him as well. If Harry didn't go, BSC would find ways to make him regret it. It could cost him severely in the long run.

  Harry immersed himself in his spare time by viewing the Spanish films by Almodovar; with a simultaneous analysis of the English subtitles by his fluent bilingual boyfriend.

  He spent a stressful few weeks talking to his agent on a daily basis. Chris knew everyone in top level football. There was no better agent to find him a new position in a club that could afford him. It wasn't that Harry himself needed a pay rise, but any new club would have to pay off the value of his remaining contract with BSC, and some.

  Back in England, it was business as usual. Breakfast with Carlos at the football club each morning, followed by training and lunch with the whole team. Along with the rest of the sporting treadmill: the gym, the traveling, the matches, and the endless hotels.

  Since Spain, a few things had changed. Their relationship was now firmly set into boyfriend status. Harry thought they might get away with discretion, but he noticed that in company, Carlos did spend a lot of time looking his way. Not just glancing but staring, just as he had always done. But now Harry understood these looks. A combination of lust and longing, which sent tingles down Harry's spine and caused fluttering in his stomach.

  If anyone else noticed, it wouldn't take them long to work things out. No wonder Jason and Scott already knew.

  They avoided visiting each other's hotel rooms, preferring to spend time socializing with the team on their nights away. There was no way Harry was willing to risk the possibility they'd be caught out in a hotel. Harry watched poker, but didn't join in; he didn't have the face for it never mind the gambling skills. Carlos went wherever there was a crowd to entertain. Which usually meant hanging out in the bar.

  Outside of work, things between Harry and Carlos changed, but in many ways, remained the same. They still spent time together doing all the usual stuff when their schedules permitted. In public though, they just looked like two buddies.

  In the privacy of their apartments, they did all the same things as before and more. They'd spend hours kissing; Harry wondered if they wouldn't go to work the next day with swollen red lips and a rash around their faces that might give them away.

  And Carlos touched him in ways that Harry had only previously dreamed of. Now that he had a boyfriend, a lover, the message from his younger years still echoed in his mind. He heard the warnings as if they were spoken afresh and aloud. Words about the sin of sex out of wedlock. But Carlos's hands and mouth on Harry's body most nights and most mornings felt very right.

  Every night that they were at home, not on the road, they'd come together using hands and mouths and often rubbing against each other until they came in a sexy sticky mess. It was thrilling, exciting and satisfying. At night they'd hold each other for many hours until falling asleep.

  Harry didn't feel used or disrespected. He didn't feel like they were doing something wrong. He felt loved by Carlos.

  The last day of January loomed, just days away. It marked the end of the transfer window until the beginning of July. If Harry didn't get a club by the end of January, it would be a reprieve. Strictly speaking, they were forbidden from negotiating with other clubs until July when the whole stressful situation would play out again.

  He assured Chris, "The day after tomorrow, I'll be there for the medical. And ready to sign the papers."

  There was a knock at the door.

  "I've got to go, Chris. Thank you for sorting this out."

  CARLOS

  He looked around, along the corridor both ways, before knocking on Harry's hotel door. Then entered hastily, with no intention of speaking until the door firmly shut behind him.

  "Come in why don't you."

  Carlos had walked straight over to the window and had his back to Harry. "Thank you. I will." There
was no view worth mentioning. In beautiful cities, why did they build hotels like this? "I wondered if you had a better view on this side of the building, but I see you don't."

  "I was about to go to dinner and meet the rest of the team. What's up?"

  Carlos turned and walked back toward the middle of the room and, as if under his hypnotic spell, Harry stepped forward toward Carlos. When they met, face-to-face, with inches between them, Carlos reached out, taking Harry's hands in both of his own.

  "I have been thinking about this for quite some time. I'm concerned that we've only just found each other, and I don't want to lose you."

  Harry's eye's narrowed. "You're not about to lose me."

  "I just want you to know, Harry. I love you." For once, Carlos had rehearsed what he intended to say. He couldn't risk mucking this up. "I haven't told you before because it always seemed too soon. It is still too soon. It's not about what we've been doing with our clothes off. I've loved you since before we ever kissed." Becoming lovers merely confirmed they were perfect for each other in every way.

  "Why are you telling me this now? Just before we go to dinner, in a hotel, the night before a match?"

  "This isn't a just-for-now relationship. I don't want you to feel like I'm using you, and it isn't just about sex. Harry, you must know, I loved you before we touched. Now, with the transfer hanging over our heads, I fear I'm going to lose you, and I just want you to know where I stand. I think you deserve to know before you make any big decisions. I love you and want to be with you for life, regardless of whether people know about us or not."

  "You told me that in Spain. And I feel the same way about you, Carlos."

  Carlos's heart pounded. What Harry was saying wasn't quite the same. Harry hadn’t made a declaration of love and Carlos felt fearfully uncertain of how the rest of conversation would go.