get to visit the dentist and you’d be surprised what they can do these days. Cologne? Trust me; guys

love it when you smell nice and sexy.” She turns her head towards the door. “Hey, there’s Mr

Borghart, too.”

“Thank you.” He’s looking forward to the day he can take care of his personal hygiene himself,

but he’s able to say thank you and that’s something.

Daniël kisses him. “Hi there, gorgeous. Hello nurse Rich.”

“Good afternoon Mr Borghart.” Her smile warms the whole room. “I’ll leave you gentlemen

alone now.”

When nurse is gone, Daniël sits at Steve’s bed, as close as his chair allows. “You okay?”

“Bring me a mirror, please Dan? I haven’t seen my own face in more than two months.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to wait till a doctor’s here? Or a nurse?”

“Just you and me.”

Daniël gets a shaving mirror, places it in Steve’s hands.

The bruises and swelling are gone, as to be expected after all those weeks. He’s pale, but not in

a healthy, attractive way like Francesco or Niko. He smiles, in the knowledge what he’s going to see.

A big gap at the front.

“Gorgeous? You call me gorgeous?”

“Because that’s what you are. You don’t see what I see, sweetheart. You never did, not even

when we had just fallen in love.”

Steve looks again. It’s still his face: noticeably, but not as bad as it could have been, off

balance as a result of the broken but almost fully healed bones, plus a few scars and in obvious need

for some serious dental work. Practically nothing that time and a good dental surgeon couldn’t deal

with. His eyes have changed though, and that change cannot be undone. Because what they have seen

cannot be undone.

Daniël puts the mirror aside. He takes Steve’s face between his hands with such tenderness it

silences everything inside Steve’s head. Then he kisses him. It’s a soft and gentle kiss, but

unmistakably the kiss of a lover. The tip of Dan’s tongue glides over Steve’s lips, as if he’s shy, like a

young boy asking for his first real kiss.

By allowing Daniël in, he gives himself permission to feel human again. He’s being loved as a

man, not just being comforted as a victim who has gone through unimaginable suffering. He shudders

when he feels how his lover’s tongue touches, explores even, the gap where his teeth are no longer

there, to travel on like the imperfection is just a fact, to tease his palate and the teeth that are still

there, to caress Steve’s tongue with his own.

He’s more passive than he would have been, no longer sure how to react to something that was,

not even that long ago, part of his daily life for six months, before it had been taken away from them

with blinding cruelty. And now Daniël kisses him like he always does: warm and tender, tasting like

coffee with milk and sugar.

It shakes him off balance. But he doesn’t retreat, because he hasn’t got the heart to reject

Daniël. Because somehow this kiss, unexpected for both as it may be, is even more important than

being able to wiggle his toes or move his fingers until they form a fist.

When the boy breaks the kiss, he looks Steve right in the eye and blushes.

“I got carried away a little, I guess.” Daniël uses his thumb to stroke a cheek. “I can’t help

needing to touch you. Kiss you. It’s always there. Always. I never stopped needing you. Needing this.”

Steve doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to say. He understands what Daniël is trying

to say, or perhaps what he’s not trying to say, at least he thinks he does, but guilt has a way of messing

up thoughts, both his and Dan’s, and so he says nothing.

“It’s too much, isn’t it? Did I hurt you?” Daniël is becoming worried about Steve’s silence.

“Of course you didn’t.” Steve smiles reassuringly, even now he knows how his smile looks,

and kisses Daniël for good measure.

“Well, at least we don’t have to be careful and discreet any more,” Daniël says with a lighthearted

note in his voice.

Steve needs a few moments for the words to sink in. “Who exactly knows?” Perhaps disaster

can still be avoided. Perhaps Daniël can save his career at both Kinbridge Town and the Dutch

national team.

Family, the gaffer, team-mates, hospital staff, the police: dozens of people. All of them good

and trustworthy individuals, but also very human and some of them might, without intention, have

given away more than they should.

“Everyone with a TV or internet access, I guess.” Daniël shrugs like his words are of no

consequence.

Steve has no illusions about his own future, but did they put Daniël and him together? He had

always assumed Degaré had found some plausible excuse for why Daniël had been missing from both

training and matches for such a long time when he had left his most recent match in perfect health.

Naïve perhaps, after so many weeks, but it’s not the first time a player disappears for weeks, even

months, with some semi-transparent declaration about a persistent injury. “I don’t understand.

Someone talked to the press? They sold us out? That must have been a nice sum, too.”

“I gave us away. For free.”

“I still don’t understand what you’re trying to say. They were waiting for you, the paparazzi

and TV crews, when you went for a bit of fresh air? With the boys and the gaffer coming in and out

every day, there must have been a few of them at least. Perhaps they saw you stepping outside for a

few moments but never really leaving.” Steve feels how panic digs a hole in his stomach.“I wouldn’t

have blamed you for denying there’s anything more between us than friendship. Perhaps you’re in the

hospital for your own reasons. You should have told them that. We all tell the press the odd white lies,

you know that just as well as I do.”

“I’m not telling lies about you. About us. And keeping my mouth shut is lying too.” Daniël

sounds indignant, like Steve said something that really bothers him. “After this? No more.”

His lover’s almost-anger, though not directed at him, makes it hard for Steve to formulate his

thoughts. They had never talked about it in detail. What was there to talk about? The stark contrast

between their behaviour in public and in the privacy of either of their homes had been accepted by

both of them as simply how things were. It had been a choice, just like anything else, but that didn’t

mean it had been a conscious one, taken after long and heart-breaking talks. No other couple in

professional football had done it before them and they weren’t going to be one of the first.

“They knew where you had been found. The police and the hospital knew, and of course the

press. No idea how, but they did. Almost immediately the rumours started on the internet, the

accusations, then the filth spread around so fast there was no way of keeping track of it. It was ugly.

“I had no idea why you had been in that park that night and I didn’t care. I just wanted all of

them to keep their filthy paws off my man. I trusted you would tell me what had happened as soon as

you’d be able to. And you did.

“I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. I told the gaffer and the skipper what I was about

to do. Told Degaré I assumed he would inform the owners of the club. Seemed like the decent thing,

inform them about my plan. Not to ask permission. No one in this world could have shut me up for

any reason. No threats and no pleas. I would accepted it if they had wanted to get rid of me.”

Daniël beams. “They both sat right next to me when I gave the press conference. I’m happy to

say: with the full support of Mr and Mrs Goldman.”