that soft moan right before you come, or knowing how your spunk tastes or how hard you get when
you watch me getting on my hands and knees, begging for your fingers or your cock. I don’t want to
share you. I’m sorry.”
“It will give me nothing but joy to reserve my body, or what is left of it, exclusively for you.
But would it be fair to ask the same of you?”
Daniël huffs his indignation. “It has nothing to do with fair; or with morals, for that matter.
Not even sure if I can explain it, but I lost whatever interest I might have had in other men. When you
were still in the danger zone, I almost forgot I had a body myself. I ate and drank because they forced
me. I slept because I couldn’t keep myself awake. I was dying with you. But once it was clear I
wouldn’t lose you and I had to be patient until you were ready to wake up, I started to feel alive
again.”
Steve drinks the last of his tea. He touches Daniël’s hand with his own.
“Nearly every single day you were in that hospital, I masturbated under the shower.
Remembering us. Wanting you. Always wanting you. Not just sex. You. I couldn’t have endured the
touch of another man. Still can’t. If anything, it has only become stronger. More absolute.”
“You need me to make love to you?” Steve asks gently.
Daniël nods silently.
“Come to the bedroom then.”
This time, he is the one taking the lead, thankful that Daniël allows himself to be cared for, to
be pampered.
Steve kisses his lover, letting his hands travel all over his body at leisure. No part is more
important than the other. “Please Danny, ask me want you want and let me decide if I’m able to give it
to you?”“
Take me from behind?”
“Seeing you offering yourself to me in that position is definitely worth a little pain.” Steve
takes the bottle of lubricant from the small side table. “Open your legs as wide as possible.”
The instruction isn’t really needed, the preparations might just as well be minimal, but they
both enjoy it too much to cut any corners. Dan wraps his fingers around his own erection, stroking
slowly, teasing Steve to get the goods while they’re hot.
“Hand me that pillow, please? Makes it a bit easier on my knees.”
“You’re comfortable? I can adjust my position to whatever is best for you. No trouble at all.”
Daniël kisses Steve before he turns his back to him and gets on his hands and knees. “This is okay?”
“More than okay. Perfect.” Steve checks one more time with his finger to confirm his lover is
indeed ready and presses the head of his cock against the pucker. He pauses.
“Don’t tease me. Don’t make me beg for it. Please …”
He’s in, tight heat gripping him, taking his breath away. Happiness almost hurting more than
the unwilling muscles of his legs and back. Than the bones and tendons that might never heal to their
old perfection.
Daniël curves his back deeper to give as much access as possible, presses his shoulders against
the mattress in full surrender. “Please, let me feel I belong to you. Everything is too much and I just
want to be your boy, offering myself to my man.”
Steve places one hand against Daniël’s neck as a sign of gentle, accepting dominance. “You’re
mine, boy. And I am yours.”
Then he allows instinct to take over.
Chapter 30
Days go by. Weeks are followed by other weeks. Whatever was left of the summer is now
definitely gone. But in the greyness of autumn, the house they bought is slowly turning into something
Steve hopes will become their home. But he isn’t worried about it, because he can’t imagine being
anywhere with Daniël and not calling it a home.
Daniël plays a few matches on home ground and finally plays his first away game. Songs are
being sung by the fans. Chants are being chanted. Nice ones and not-so-nice ones. They both try to
take it all with a bit of humour and after a while, Steve is actually able to enjoy the game without
being frightened and overwhelmed. Seeing Dan happy makes him happy.
Daniël scores his first goal of the season. His index fingers pointing at his lover and his big
radiant smile mean the world to Steve. This moment is between the two of them, no matter how many
eyes are watching.
“This one’s for Steve,” he will later see the boy say during the short interview at the end of the
game, “just like any other goal I’ll ever score. And since I’m a defender; like any goal for the
opponent that didn’t happen because I prevented it. Without Steve in the stands, I wouldn’t be on the
pitch.”
The next day, there’s an article in the Kinbridge Chronicle and it is Steve who reads it out loud
to his visibly shy lover, his index finger leading him slowly through the rows of printed letters that
make words that make sentences that make a story.
“There was this almost shocking moment when I could have sworn I saw Gavan himself play,
though not necessarily in the way Borghart moved over the field. They are too different in style to ever
be mistaken for the other. Gavan: the patient gentleman, always waiting for that one moment he was
truly needed. Using his talent to read the opponent’s intentions to make up for the speed he lacked. A
calming influence during moments of panic. Borghart: the young dog, with an overload of energy. Fast
and aggressive. Eager to keep Kinbridge Town’s half of the pitch clean, but also hungry for more.
‘Highly talented’ and ‘has a promising future’ were the most common phrases used to describe him.
No longer so, because what I have seen during the last matches is a mature defender who stands his
ground. A man focused on the job, like the noise surrounding him doesn’t even touch him. And most
likely it doesn’t.
“When asking the Kinbridge Town manager about a possible transfer for Borghart, the answer
is an almost impatient, ‘Do I look like a fool to you?’
“It was a boy who left the pitch after the 1-0 defeat against Birmingham ... and the boy
returned a man."
Daniël’s voice is soft and brittle. “But can I still be your boy? When I really need it?”
Steve gets on his feet and takes Dan in his arms. And that’s answer enough.
*
“Seems like you’re starting to find your own place in this club again. Understand what I mean?
No longer one of us, although you’ll always be one of us, not one of the wags of course, never just one
of the supporters,” Gabrysz says after morning training.
They’re having lunch and before work at the gym starts Steve has plenty of time for a chat with
Gabrysz and Niko. From the corner of his eyes he sees Daniël cracking jokes with Kurt and Neil. It’s
good to see the boy laugh out loud.
He returns his attention to Gabrysz and Niko. “It’s great going to the games now I know most
fans, and not just our own, behave well. And the rest?” He shrugs. “There will always be the rest.”
Gabrysz finishes his coffee. “True. You already have any idea about what you’re going to do
after all this? You are – were – one of the most intelligent defenders I’ve ever played with. I bet you
saw how good Dan could become before you saw that other thing.”
Steve’s not sure if he understands the goalie’s words, even if he knows exactly what the man is
saying.
“When a footballer is too old or too injured to compete on this level, he’s is still a young man,
with thirty, forty, fifty years ahead of him.”
“You believe I’ll ever work again?”
“You know about football, you’re clever, experienced and Dan’s going to support you in
everything you want to give a try …” Gabrysz shrugs. “It’s none of my business.”
“That’s okay. And you’re right about what you say, but I guess I’m still not bored with physio