but it wouldn’t be the first time it happened. The men running away because they knew the sort of

bastards that were approaching could have warned me or even turned around, and together we would

have had a fighting chance. But hey, then they would have run the risk of having to tell their wives and

families and colleagues and friends about what they were really doing during ‘overtime’ or ‘the night

out with the lads.’ They’ll have to deal with their consciences in their own way. You heard the

policewoman telling us there had been exactly one anonymous phone call from that group. Two days

later. That I was found more or less by accident, because there had been a bar fight at a nightclub, not

even a ten minute walk away, and a couple of policemen were on their way to assist their colleagues.”

So many slow words. So much silence between the words. So much patience from Daniël.

“I know it was their choice to attack you until they were pretty much certain you were dead, of

the others to run away from you and leave you at the mercy of those bastards.”Daniël sighs.

“Sometimes I wish I was guilty of something, at least then I could try to pay for my shortcomings.

This is so … I just wish I knew…”

“Without you, there was no chance I would have made it. When I was so far gone I didn’t know

how to find my way back, I still remembered I had to return to you.”

For a few moments they sit in silence, their fingers enlaced. Then hospital reality takes over

and Steve is once more reminded that eating a small plate of mashed potatoes and white fish is a task

that takes all of the skills he recently mastered. His coordination is still shaky at best and by the time

he’s halfway through even this moderate amount of food, he’s exhausted. He’s thankful when Daniël

holds the beaker with the protein shake so he just has to sip it through a thick straw.

*

When Arnaud Degaré visits that night, together with Gael and Francesco, Steve uses the time

Daniël needs to get some coffee for the visitors to ask him for a favour.

The manager smiles his agreement. “Of course I’ll be happy to see Daniël during the next

training. The boys will be thrilled. And I can see for myself that he certainly could use a bit of real

exercise instead of a walk around the hospital and doing stretches between the beds. I’ll make sure

there won’t be any press to bother him.”

But when Daniël hears about the plans for him, he simply shakes his head. “I’m not leaving

you alone. Not for hours on end.”

“You need it. Please, Danny, just try it? Fresh air, running and kicking the ball …”

Being among healthy people …

“No.” Daniël doesn’t give in that easily.

“If I stay with Steve, would that be all right?” Gael offers spontaneously. “You agree, gaffer?”

“Now you see, sweetheart, you’re out-numbered.” Steve pulls on Daniël’s shirt sleeve to get

him closer and whispers in his ear, “I bet you’ll smell all nice when you get back after training.”

“Hey guys, get a room,” Francesco blurts out. He grins from ear to ear, hiding his blush behind

a curtain of deep black hair.

“You’re just jealous,” Daniël teases and he gives Steve a short, sweet kiss.

Francesco pouts. And once again, Steve wonders why Dan has chosen him over the

heartbreakingly beautiful Spanish-Italian boy, even though Francesco has been dating his girlfriend

for over a year now. But, he guesses, such are the strange and mysterious ways of love.

*

As expected, Gael proves to be pleasant company. He’s not above a bit of innocent gossip

about the club when Steve asks him how things are going in general, but when the conversation stops

he simply sits next to be the bed, takes out his book and reads. Now and again, he looks at the other

man, smiles, then returns to reading again. Handing Steve a glass of water when he asks for it. Asking

questions about his hand and arm exercises.

Would he do for Matthew what Daniël did for him? Leaving everything and everyone behind to

sit quietly next to a hospital bed for weeks on end, with just a sliver of hope to hold on to?Of course,

he will never ask this question. There’s no need; it doesn’t take that much of his imagination to know

that both Gael and Matthew have not only thought about it, but most likely have even spoken about it.

What would I do …? What would you do …?

Hidden under that, there’s the real question. What if it had been you?

Gael reads, sometimes looks up and smiles. Says a few words and reads again.

The doctor said months, years. And even then it’s not certain if all the endlessly complicated

connections between instruction and execution will ever work as seemingly effortlessly as they used

to. Once again, he can’t help but notice how young Daniël is, how full of life and promises for the

future. He is born to do things, to move, to compete, to have fun. He has a body that is clearly made to

be used to its full potential. Not meant to adapt to a slowed down existence far too many years before

old age. He’s a man, with needs that shouldn’t be put on hold just because they’re not convenient at

the moment, and won’t be for an unforeseeable time in the future. There is nothing but love and

devotion in his lover’s eyes. His touches are gentle, his kisses speak of patience. But he’s still only

human.

When Daniël returns from training, he glows with health and joy. He smells of grass and fresh

air. Steve wants to drink it in, close to tears because of the beauty of it all. His kiss is definitely that of

a lover, full of longing and lust. His hands, unobtrusive as they might be on Steve’s arms, tell the

same story as his lips. He’s full of brand new stories and stupid jokes to tell. Such a change from the

too quiet, too pale boy who has given up so much to be with him.

“Oh Steve, it was so great to dribble the ball, do a five-a-side, run until I was out of breath, hit

the back of the net, even though I saw that Kurt was distracting Gabrysz on purpose. Thank you so

much for asking the gaffer.” He looks at Gael, who’s still waiting at the door to say his goodbyes and

who seems mostly amused by the can’t-stop-moving boy. “Thanks for being here.”

Then he turns to Steve again, to cradle his face between his hands.

“I loved it so much being on that pitch.”

Steve feels soft lips on his forehead.

“The first contact with a ball in months.”

The lips travel, kiss by kiss, to his right cheek.

“I’m so going to feel my muscles tomorrow.”

More kisses until the other cheek has been reached, with a short stop at his chin.

“Being tackled and feeling the grass under me.”

The softest of kisses on his lips.

“And still I’d leave it all behind to be with you. Rather be with you than winning every single

trophy available in Europe.”

More kisses.

“It lost so much of its meaning without you. I loved the exercise, trying out to see if my skills

are still any good, having a laugh with the guys, but I guess in a way I said goodbye.”

Steve has to ask to be sure. “You’re thinking about leaving football? Or has anyone said

anything to you? There’s still a place for you, isn’t there?”

“No idea. Don’t care. I can play football without being paid for it. Or run just because I love it.

I’ll see what happens when you’re home again.” He seems to think Steve still looks too worried. “And

no one suggested anything about me leaving the club or leaving the game. They missed you, too, and I

could see they meant it. They don’t want me gone but it’s not up to them. Not all of it.”

“It’s your career, dear boy, and so much more than that.” Steve kisses Daniël on the cheek