approximate date and a few rough ideas about what we want, who we want with us and where we want
it, so I can hire someone to organise it.”
Steve knows it’s not all that much, but his head has to battle to get it all in. Getting out of the
apartment, going to the Three Graces Park, meeting the others: there’s enough to make him clutch the
piece of paper in his hand to remember what it is all about.
“Too much?” Daniël asks.
Steve nods. “It doesn’t matter. I know you’ll do the calls, so I shouldn’t be worried about that
and we’ll go by car when we go anywhere but ...”
“Too much.”
“As I said, it doesn’t matter. Just because it’s difficult and scary doesn’t mean I can’t do it. As
long as you’re with me, I’m fine.”
It gets him through the day, even if it means knowing once again his photo has been taken in an
intimate moment of vulnerability, when he gets out of the car at the Three Graces Park and for a
moment stands in the circle of Daniël’s arms before he’s ready to get his crutches and walk inside the
training ground.
“Mr Gavan, care to say a few words to us?”
“Steve you believe you will return to the club?”
“Mister Gavan, what exactly happened that night?”
“Daniël, you perhaps ...?”
Then, salvation in the form of Gabrysz’ smiling face and wide open arms. “Wonderful to see
you again, Steve, Daniël. Come quickly, you’ve been missed.”
And then to the press: “Come on boys, give them a bit of privacy and breathing space. They’ll
tell their story when they’re ready, okay?”
The greetings vary from reserved politeness to overenthusiastic cries of welcome, and from a
genuinely warm embrace to a matter of fact but well-meant, “Hey, you’re back.”
Steve smiles and shakes hands and he thinks he says something, but the only thing he’s sure of
is Daniël’s hand on his shoulder. He’s glad nobody’s asking him how he feels being back, because he
honestly has no idea.
Is he back at all?
But he recognises happiness for what it is when he sees Daniël running over the turf, trying to
stop Francesco from scoring, grinning in triumph when he tackles the striker who counts as one of the
fastest runners in the English competition.
Degaré sits next to him while they both watch Daniël in a struggle for the ball with Dag and
Neil. “He’s a fighter. I wouldn’t want to lose him for the club or for the sport in general. On some
days, I still can’t believe one of the bigger clubs with a much bigger bag of money wasn’t there before
me when he was still in his teens. Although, meeting his parents when he signed the contract and later
in hospital explained a lot. The Borgharts are a very down-to-earth family with healthy ethics about
the sport and the money. They refused to have his youth taken from him. But I’m sure Daniël has
already told you that. I’m aware of my reputation for breaking players’ egos and reputations to win a
match, and I don’t regret any of that, but I still think this club, this sport, needs people like him.”
“Then give him a chance. And I’ll make sure he’s going to be there every training. I have to
pick up my own programme. There’s still so much that needs work.”
“You’re both ready for that?”
“Does it matter? We didn’t ask for any of this. None of us did. It must have been tough on the
boys too. I bet there’s some ugly chanting and singing on the stands, especially with the away games.
And what about our own fans? Don’t tell me there’s love all around.”
“Ugly has been part of the game since the first boy decided to kick a pig’s bladder. As for the
fans, a few dozen season tickets being returned to the club, an internet petition to get rid of Dan with
less than 500 signatures. A few fights before and after games. Some pub brawls. Nothing we hadn’t
anticipated.” Degaré looks at Steve and smiles. “We mustn’t forget who the real culprits here are. I
saw that passport photo the police showed me and there was only one thing I could do. I appreciate
that you two have been discreet all those months, even if it would have been wrong to expect it from
you. It made life easier for everyone, except for you, of course. But nothing would have been easier
for you, just differently hard at best, I assume. It’s high time this sport and its fans enter the twentyfirst
century.”
“You talked about it with other managers?”
“Of course I have. You and Daniël ...” Degaré waves about. “Everyone’s eager to hear your
part of the story.”
“Daniël suggested a press conference.”
Degaré nods. “You’re up to it?”
“Yes, I am.” Steve knows it’s the truth up to a certain point, but it’s all he has to offer himself
and the man next to him for the time being.
“When’s the club officially going to let me go?” The question has to be asked.
“It’s early in the season still. Hardly autumn. Let’s give Daniël some time to work on his
comeback, the two of you on all the other things. Professional football, certainly on this level, is a
ruthless business. I give Daniël a chance because of his talent and fighting spirit. If I see I can’t use
him by the time the next window opens, he will be just like any of the other players. No privileges,
other than earned by talent, hard work and usefulness for the club. As for you, sometimes doing things
the logical way is doing them the wrong way.”
“It’s more than I can ask for. Thank you.”
“The owners and the board do realise the club has a name to win or lose. Good PR is worth a
man’s soul.” Degaré pats Steve on the shoulder. “We’re a long way from paradise yet.”
Then he’s off to shout instructions to a group of the younger guys who seem to be having a bit
too much fun.
Daniël looks positively radiant after the more than hour-long training session. “I’m going to
take a shower and change back real quick.” He kisses Steve on the cheek. “You had a good talk with
the gaffer?” And he’s off.
Matthew, in his capacity as captain, takes a few minutes to talk to him. They both try their best
to strike up a conversation that at least sounds normal and meaningful, but it’s still too early for either
the mundane or the real questions and so they’re left with talk about the weather and if the paparazzi
have been much of a bother.
Steve knows he will be at the training ground several times a week for the coming months, and
nothing is going to convince him he’s still somehow part of this all. Daniël, however, is, and he’s
thankful his lover has been accepted back so readily. He’s one of them. Still one of them.
*
That night, he lies next to Daniël in bed. After tea and talk about the day, after Daniël doing the
last of the planned calls while Steve takes a much needed rest, there’s quietness and touches and
kisses.
“It was beautiful, seeing you running on the turf with the others,” Steve whispers, while Daniël
nibbles on his ear.
“And it was beautiful, seeing you sitting next to the gaffer, talking to him,” Daniël whispers
while Steve takes his fingers to his mouth and starts to slowly suck and lick. “Are you trying to ...?”
“What does it look like?” Steve glides his tongue between the fingers.
“You’re trying to make me crazy with your mouth, that’s what it looks like.”
Wrapping his fingers around Daniël’s cock, Steve teases, “I wouldn’t mind having a taste of
this too.”
Pre-come forms in thick opaque drops.
“On our sides would be the most comfortable for me until ...” Before Steve’s able to finish his
sentence, Daniël changes positions, so he’s head-to-toes with his lover, and takes a first lick of Steve’s