by H J Perry
"You trying to get me drunk? Harry asked. "You know I don't drink that much."
"Neither do I. At least they'll be ready so we don't have to interrupt the film going to get more from the fridge. And I don't know about you, but once I sit down I do not want to have to get up again. I've been on my feet running around all afternoon."
The men laughed together.
"I hear you."
They relaxed in companionable silence, watching an action film. Harry seemed engrossed in the film. When Harry was next him, it was hard for Carlos to concentrate. He wanted to take things to the next level with Harry, to find out whether they even stood a chance.
About forty minutes into the film, they put it on pause to take delivery of a mega pizza to share.
He knew it was crazy. He knew they shouldn't. Carlos desperately wanted something between himself and Harry, and if it was going to happen, he knew he had to be the one to take the initiative.
When it was so easy with girls, why was this so difficult? Because he didn't really care about those girls. He'd never really felt a strong emotional connection with any of them. He hadn't met the right woman yet. Whereas with Harry, oh God, with Harry the attraction was enormous, but Carlos wasn't sure if it was all one-way.
What next? The film finished. Ten o'clock. It was still early by many people's standards for a Saturday night. But it had been a long day and they were planning on going out in the morning.
"It's tempting to watch another," said Harry. "But I'd better be going."
If Harry were female, Carlos would have already made a move. He'd have reached out and put an arm around her early into the film, but was hesitant not sure how to progress things with a man.
Carlos fought back the temptation to beg Harry to stay; however, there was never going to be a better time. With post-match euphoria and no work the next day, Carlos could feel his pulse racing. Emboldened by alcohol, hopefully Harry's inhibitions were also quashed. They'd spent a lovely evening together, and they were in near-darkness.
If Carlos couldn't take this opportunity to let Harry know how he felt, then he never would.
Should he speak? Ask permission? Or just lean in and kiss him?
Carlos shuffled closer to Harry and turned so that their faces were within inches. Eyes stared back at him with enlarged pupils. Carlos wasn't sure whether he saw excitement or fear or a little of both. He licked his lips and noticed Harry mirror his action.
The laws of physics changed, time slowed down, and the pounding of Carlos's heartbeat grew stronger. He was unaware of anything beyond them, and could feel only the desire coiling inside of him and its effect detected in the region of his groin and his heart.
Carlos wrapped an arm around Harry's broad, manly shoulders, and put his right hand on Harry's cheek, drawing his thumb along the cheekbone.
Carlos knew how this was supposed to go. He'd been in this position before with women: he'd leaned forward and kissed them. This was different, not because it was a man and he'd never gotten romantic with a man before. The difference was inside of Carlos. He wanted Harry in a way that he never wanted anything before.
He'd wanted the girls, they were attractive, and he fancied them. But he didn't long for them in the way he burned for Harry.
In the past it never mattered if a girl rejected him or pushed him away, but this mattered. This really mattered.
"I want to kiss you." Carlos leaned forward.
Harry didn't pull away and he didn't look surprised. He remained still.
Carlos moved closer until their lips were touching. He left his lips lingering against Harry's, awaiting a response. Would Harry pull away?
After a moment in which Harry seemed to freeze like a marble statue, Harry returned the kiss. Lips moving over each other, their mouths opened and tongues entwined. Kissing Harry was not like kissing a girl. The firmness of his skin, the texture, the smell...all of it was unlike any woman Carlos had ever kissed.
Carlos liked kissing, but he never realized how good it could feel. He was aware of his cock growing hard. He was so turned on.
Carlos groaned with pleasure. Timidly, Carlos let one hand fall to Harry's waist and the other reached to the back of Harry's head, holding him. It was awkward as they sat next to each other, twisting on the sofa.
HARRY
Before his brain could comprehend what was happening, Harry reacted automatically. Inexperience didn't prevent him from kissing Carlos right back. He didn't need to learn how to kiss, touch, or respond. Placing his palms on Carlos's chest, the new and unfamiliar activity came as natural to Harry as breathing or eating.
Harry's was an instant physical reaction. It happened. Just as he wasn't expecting amorous attention from Carlos, Harry wasn't prepared for how amazing it would feel.
Carlos's strong arms around him, holding him. Carlos's fingers on his face. Kissing and touching a man in this way.
It took a few seconds before Harry's mind registered surprise, by which time the men had made tongue-to-tongue contact.
This close and intimate, the smell and taste of Carlos overloaded Harry's senses. Black earth, the men's locker room blended with the unique hint of Carlos and the experience of a freshly mowed football pitch.
In a tiny corner of Harry's mind, a voice of alarm questioned what the fuck was going on. He refused to listen to the doubts. Harry was gay, was twenty-four years old, and for the first time since forever, a guy had made a pass at him. He didn't think he could stop it even if he wanted to.
"I've wanted to do this for so long," Carlos whispered in between licking, sucking, and nibbling at Harry's lips.
Had he really?
Harry whimpered. Right then his lips were sensitive erogenous zones and he longed to push his tongue deep into Carlos's mouth.
Carlos's words came as such a surprise to Harry. He had absolutely no idea that Carlos was interested in men at all, or him in particular. Perhaps Harry misunderstood. This was a tired and drunken spur of the moment thing that they could regret and forget in the morning.
CHAPTER TEN
December
HARRY
Harry thought he should push Carlos away, ask what the hell he thought he was doing, or storm out.
No. Not really. He didn't want that at all.
He kept on kissing the footballer. Touching his chest, shoulders, arms in the way that he'd only dreamed of touching a man before. Caressing the mounds and dips of Carlos's muscles over his clothes.
Harry's whole body tingled. Everything was connected, from his electrified fingertips to his curling toes. Harry's dick throbbed, straining in his pants.
How long can a couple make out on the sofa? Would Carlos expect more?
Harry's body wanted more. He knew that. He was aware that people his age didn't normally make out on the sofa without it leading to the removal of clothes. Harry couldn't go that far; he'd embarrass himself. For fuck's sake, he was a virgin in his mid-twenties. He knew his needs and limitations. He knew he was at risk of coming in his pants at the very thought of taking his clothes off with Carlos.
They both jumped when sound suddenly came from the TV. After the music and credits of their selected action flick, the TV had been silent and dark, but now flipped on to one of the mainstream channels. They both ignored it. Their hands were on each other, too busy to fiddle with a remote control.
Carlos withdrew his tongue from Harry's mouth and licked over his cheek toward his ear.
"Harry, kissing you is even better than I imagined it would be." Carlos's words and warm breath worked over Harry's cheek before Carlos's mouth resumed sucking on Harry's lips.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest. He'd not thought about kissing Carlos before actually kissing Carlos.
Was it true? What if this wasn't an impulsive action and Carlos was genuinely interested in him? Could this be anything other than an impromptu drunken event?
Carlos broke away from the kiss. "Harry, are you okay with this?"
No. He
wasn't okay with this.
"Yes," Harry whispered.
"Do you want to come to my bedroom?"
"No." He blurted an answer too fast and without consideration.
Yes. Fuck, yeah. Harry wanted to do that.
"No. I can't." With feeble reluctance, Harry pushed Carlos a few inches away. "I don't do casual sleeping around." It was "sleeping around," because Harry could not say "sex." He didn't even think the word.
"Harry, there is nothing casual about my feelings for you."
What did that mean? Harry took in a deep breath. "What?"
"I'm crazy about you, Harry. If I'm out of line, and if you don't feel the same way, I will get over it. But I'm hoping you are into me too."
Harry knew the right answer was not the honest truth, which was he'd not thought about it before tonight. Because honestly, if he did think about it, he could get very into Carlos.
As if the floodgates opened, the past months went flashing and crashing through Harry's mind. September, October, November. Almost every day spent together inside and outside of work. Mealtimes, training, traveling.
Carlos didn't stick near Harry because Carlos was lonely and desperate; he wasn't some social pariah. This charming man chose to hang out with Harry because he liked him. Liked him a lot.
Harry must have sat staring and motionless for too long without speaking.
"This may be too fast. I'm sorry. I don't want to offend you, but if you'd give me the chance I'd like to date you, seduce you, be something more to you than just one of the football team players."
Carlos shook the very foundations of Harry's self-identity after his years of isolation and lack of intimacy.
Harry didn't expect a kiss from Carlos or an invitation to his bed. Moreover, he didn't expect what he'd just heard. He must have been dreaming because it sounded as if this bloke, one of his teammates, wanted to date him.
Harry pulled Carlos back to him for more kissing, because while they were lip-locked, they couldn't talk.
Harry had suppressed everything, maintained control for years. He couldn't just abandon a life resigned to years of loneliness and celibacy without any forethought.
There were two things that deterred Harry from living as a fulfilled gay man, and he wasn't sure which was the greater influence.
Fear of the disapproval of his family. He expected tears, disappointment, and possibly estrangement from his nearest and dearest blood relatives if and when they found out about his sinner's nature. The multi-faith British society in which Harry lived gave him an alternative insight into a tolerant God, even if his mother's church was extremely prescriptive about a virtuous lifestyle.
He expected ridicule and hostility from some people associated with football. These were sure to be a minority, but big enough in number to make a future career intolerable if not impossible. He couldn't be sure of the impact on his career, because there were no out gay professional soccer players in the world. He guessed it would be as good as over.
He didn't know how to reply, not in words.
With a total lack of any experience to draw upon, the instinct was strong. Needing to get closer, Harry swung a leg over the top of Carlos and straddled him. In his mind, he imagined they could kiss easier, and hold each other closer. He became very aware of Carlos's erection and discovered it was almost impossible to resist grinding against him.
If Harry could feel this incredible sitting on a guy's lap, and barely able to breathe for excitement, what more lay ahead for him to discover?
Unlike Harry, Carlos seemed totally relaxed. He'd taken the risk here, exposing his feelings. Always confident. Even when making out with a guy and risking rejection, he deserved the courtesy of a reply.
Harry broke the kiss and pulled back. He climbed off Carlos and turned away. He wanted to regain some composure and felt flustered by his arousal, something he wasn't used to sharing.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting this." He didn't turn around. He just needed a minute. "I didn't think of you that way. I thought you were straight."
He heard the movement as Carlos stood up and stepped up behind him. He came close enough that Harry could feel him pressed against his back. Warm and comforting.
"I wasn't sure about you either. It just seems like we have something special between us. If I was wrong, if you were one hundred percent hetero, I didn't think you'd judge me."
Harry couldn't help but smile. It was other people judging him that held him back. That turned him into the repressed wreck of a man that he was. Despite walking alongside him through the homophobic macho jungle of professional football, Carlos managed to see past the baggage. He managed to see that Harry wouldn't judge.
Harry turned to the sofa and sat down. "I don't want to spoil our friendship or our working relationship at BSC."
Carlos sat down alongside him. "Are you into this at all? What if we didn't work together?"
Unused to this type of conversation, Harry felt his face heating up. He was almost certainly blushing. He reminded himself again that Carlos had taken the risk here by laying out his feelings for examination.
He reached out to clasp Carlos's hand. "I think you can tell I am. But I don't do casual sleeping around."
CARLOS
Carlos had been there countless times before: making out with someone, hoping to spend the night together, and hoping to take the action much further. He'd been there before, but not in this apartment.
Not since he'd met Harry.
There was no mistaking Harry's enthusiasm, his heavy breathing, his prominent bulge. Harry had kissed him back, not pushed him away. Harry didn't even seem surprised, but took it in his stride, as if guys regularly made passes at him. And perhaps they did. Why shouldn't they? Harry was goddamn near irresistible.
Their fingers knitted together where Harry's had taken his hand. Carlos hesitantly reached out with the other hand and rested it on Harry's face as they gazed into each other's eyes.
Carlos absentmindedly traced an imaginary trail around Harry's jaw with his thumb, trekking over the well-past five o'clock shadow. It was a face so handsome, so damned attractive, so utterly kissable that Carlos spent far too much time looking at it. It was a wonder no one had commented about the lingering, longing looks that passed one way between them too often.
Nevertheless, Carlos could sense the reticence. Something was holding Harry back. Even though Carlos couldn't understand it, he didn't want to push for too much too fast. His interest in Harry was not as a one-night stand, but for so much more.
Harry didn't do one-night stands. Didn't sleep around. Carlos had already guessed that. Everything about Harry's values suggested he was a relationship and marriage kind of guy.
"Harry, I may have given you the wrong impression. I'm not trying to drag you into my bed for a night of fun just because there's nobody else here. I want to be with you. Not only tonight, but in the full sense of being with you. Partners, dating, boyfriends."
Harry's eyes widened and he tilted his head slightly to the right.
They'd already spent enough time together to convince Carlos that if there was anyone compatible enough for a long-term relationship and possibly marriage, it was Harry.
"If you want to stay here on the sofa in front of the TV and cuddle, I'm good with that too," Carlos said. "I can see in your face this has come as a surprise to you. Would you like another beer?"
To Carlos's immense relief Harry agreed to stay, drink more beer, and cuddle on the sofa.
They watched another film, an old thriller. It wasn't one they'd chosen, just one that came on the TV. Even though everything could have been weird between them, it wasn't. It was exactly like any other time that they sat watching TV. They talked crap about what they saw. They drank beer. And when they finished the beer, they kissed. By halfway through the film, they weren't watching it at all. They were flat out on the sofa kissing, cuddling, and making out like teenagers.
Unlike teenagers, they were exhausted.
&nbs
p; They fell asleep in each other's arms.
The TV was still on when Carlos stirred from an uncomfortable sleep.
Aware of the body beside him, he was instantly alert and ecstatic. He'd confessed how he felt, and Harry was still there. The attraction was apparently mutual.
Pins and needles persecuted one arm where Harry's sleeping body restricted the blood flow. Carlos didn't want to wake Harry, but he couldn't leave him there on the sofa. Carlos reached for the remote control and turned off the TV.
"Come on, Harry. Let's sleep in my room. It's more comfortable." Carlos knelt beside the sofa, shaking Harry gently.
Harry stretched out sleepily.
"Harry, come and get into bed."
Harry opened his eyes and sat up. Alarm flashed across his face.
"It's late. We both fell asleep. Come and sleep in my bed." You can keep your clothes on, Carlos thought.
Slowly Harry stood up. "I'm gonna head up to my own place."
"Oh, okay," said Carlos. A rising sense of panic within him chased away the remaining fatigue. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
Not an unreasonable question as they'd seen each other every single day since early September, whether they had work or not. Carlos had ensured that.
"Yes, sure. See you tomorrow." Harry said as he headed towards the door rather quickly for a man who had just woken up. He was out of the door without even looking back.
It wasn't a complete rejection, but Carlos's heart still felt heavy. Twenty-four hours earlier Harry was the object of Carlos's secret crush, and he had no way of knowing whether he stood a chance, whether Harry was into guys. As he watched Harry leave, he'd had just a tiny taste of how glorious things could be.
But he still had no way of knowing whether Harry felt the same.
CHAPTER ELEVEN