by H J Perry
Liz put her hand on Scott's shoulder. “It's okay. I know what you're saying, but I didn't realize you felt so bad about it. I have to ask the obvious, do you talk to Jason about all this?”
“And of course, the obvious answer is yes. I do from time to time, but the conversation always goes the same way.”
“How does the conversation go?”
“I can't understand why he is keeping this secret now half the football team know. The whole team would know but as new people have arrived, he’s never come out to everyone.”
“I don't think it would be a problem,” said Liz.
“That's exactly how one-half of the conversation goes. You're right, it wouldn't be a problem. There's quite a turnover of players in the team, so they don't all know but homophobic language and attitudes are stamped on now. He's had terrific support from everyone who does know. Things have changed in the dressing room and at training.”
“So what's the problem?”
“He wouldn't say it in quite these words,” said Scott. “But he is still terrified of coming out. He avoids media interviews as much as possible. He doesn't want the scrutiny. And he doesn't want the homophobic abuse from fans on the terraces and in social media. He's never been bullied, and he doesn't want to start dealing with it now.”
“Oh, Scott.” Liz's face was full of sympathy.
“Three years ago, this is not the path I would have chosen for myself. No way and still now at twenty-four, I'm too young and beautiful to live in the closet. It is not the dark and the cold of winter and the fact that is we don't get to spend Christmas night or New Year's together because of football matches. The thought of going through 2015 presenting ourselves as just friends is depressing; the fact that other gay couples are getting married pours salt on the wounds. I’m pleased for you and I’m wallowing in self-pity.”
“Scott I forbid you from breaking up with Jason. You are best together, and I should know. You've got to make this work.”
“I don't know how they did it in the olden days. Keeping my boyfriend a secret until he retires in his mid-thirties, in, maybe, ten years or more. It's tough.”
“I see,” said Liz. “I have the same absent boyfriend, but I can at least talk about it.”
“Exactly,” said Scott.
“Jason’s achieved the highest level in his career but is it worth sacrificing his personal happiness just to stay there? Do you want me or Mark to talk to him? He listens to the other footballers. Mark might be able to get him to focus on his priorities."
“Maybe.”
“So, the festive season and parties. I have the same problem, an absent boyfriend. So, shall we go together?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
December 2014
Jason
“He's so sweet when he's sleeping,” Scott whispered.
Connor was sprawled out across his single bed in his superhero pajamas, taking up the maximum space possible. His arms and legs spread wide like a starfish, the cover hanging off him at a precarious angle.
“One of the best moments of being the babysitting uncles.” Jason took hold of Scott’s hand; neither was in a hurry to move from the scene of the sleeping child. Letting the vision permanently imprint in their memories.
The children were finally asleep.
“They were exhausted,” said Scott.
“They love their uncles keeping them up late!” Jason tugged on Scott’s hand, pulling him from the room. They turned off the light on their way into the next bedroom, Kyle’s room.
“Being an only child I’ll never be an uncle.”
“You’re part of this family now, and I have three brothers, so there’s potentially going to be lots of kids calling you uncle in the future.”
In the adjacent room, in stark contrast to his brother, Kyle was rolled up into a tiny ball. The bed almost looked empty but for a little lump under the duvet and a mop of curly hair sticking out from beneath the cover.
“Don't they look lovely like this?” Jason pulled the blanket away from Kyle, exposing his head to the room.
“They’re great kids, even when they're awake. But I know what you mean.”
They left the room and clicked off the light, still holding hands. Jason tried to make the most of the chance to get close whenever they could. Outside their home, the opportunities to show affection were rare, almost always limited to within their four walls.
On the landing, outside the bedrooms, Jason pulled Scott to him and kissed him on the cheek. “What would you like to do for the rest of the evening? Shall we watch a film or have an early night?”
“I believe making out in front of the TV is what babysitting is all about,” Scott grinned with the same exciting, daring sparkle in his eye that attracted Jason in the first place.
“I like making out but making love is what I had in mind.”
Still holding hands, it was Scott's turn to squeeze Jason's. “Has looking after the kids got you broody? Do you want to make babies?”
Jason loved Scott’s sense of humor, or sense of the ridiculous. “I'd love to have kids with you, Scott, we'd be great dads together.”
Scott placed his free hand around Jason's waist and pulled him close into a light peck on the lips. “I think you'd make a great dad. I'm a bit too young at the moment, even though you’re getting on a bit.”
“Hey. I’m only two years older than you!”
“And I'd like us to get married first.”
“I’d like to marry you too. Now, let’s go and make love.” Jason did not expect any answer other than, fuck yeah. He led Scott, by the hand, to their room.
“Do we need to check the doors are locked and turn off the lights downstairs?” asked Scott.
“I’ve already done it.” Jason longed for closeness, and this wasn’t an impromptu invitation. The pressure of being discreet weighed upon him. He tried not to burden Scott, but he wanted to be with the man he loved more than anything, more than a continuing career in Premiership football. He had an idea, a way out, but he didn’t want to raise their hopes just yet.
Nowhere else in Europe was football played as much through December and January as in England, exhausting months for footballers. Each match meant a night away from home, regardless of whether the team played home or away. There was no possibility of getting away, someplace abroad where he wouldn’t be recognized. No time for another trip to the USA, where Jason was a nobody and they could be themselves.
“We’d better keep this door ajar so we hear if the kids get up.” Jason released Scott’s hand and went to the overnight bag to pull out condoms, lube and a towel, which he placed on the bed.
Scott pulled his polo shirt over his head before commenting. “I didn’t know you’d packed a sex blanket.”
“I hoped you’d want to do this, but without soaking my brother’s spare bed with lube.”
“I like the thought that you want it enough to plan ahead.” Scott was slipping out of his jeans and pulling off his socks at the same time. An erection already evident in his underpants.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” Jason hastily tore his clothes off, catching up with Scott so they were both completely naked at the same time.
Scott laid the towel out, over the center of the bed, and they got on top, lying down side by side. “You have something specific in mind, I guess.” He reached out and stroked Jason’s hard cock.
“I could say I’m prepared for anything. But, yes. I there is something I’m hoping for.” Jason’s fingers wrapped around Scott’s dick and their mouths melded together.
The kiss was deep, passionate and tasted of good things; all good things are hot and wet. Jason could lose himself in his close, intimate connection with Scott. The feeling of love was all-consuming. A feeling that was so strong in the face of the obstacles they faced together.
“This. I want this.” Jason purred out the words on his panting breath. He knew the words were ambiguous. He wanted what they were doing, kissing
, feeling each other’s hot bodies, naked skin against naked skin. Holding each other’s dicks. He did want all of that. He wanted Scott completely. “I want you inside me. I still want to feel it tomorrow night when I’m away from you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
December 2014
Scott
“Scott, it's so good to see you. I want to hear all about how life’s treating you. Let me introduce you to my son. Come and you can tell him at the same time.”
Professor Graf, an expert in number theory, guided Scott across the room toward a young man, the best-looking guy in the room. Handsome, Scott noticed. Tall, with black hair and Mediterranean looks. Exactly Scott’s type, it seemed.
“Oliver, this is Scott, one of my star post-grad students.”
“Pleased to meet you, Scott.”
Even though it was subtle, Scott didn’t miss the way Oliver’s eyes roved up and down, appraisingly, and his eyes darkened with approval. In contrast to his father, Oliver was a sharp dresser in an expensive tailored suit and lavender shirt.
“Hi. I saw you coming in with your… girlfriend?” The rise in the tone of Oliver’s voice on the final word made it clear that this was a question.
“Liz isn't my girlfriend; she's my old-time friend. We shared a house some years back. She’s now a physics post-grad student.”
“Are you a full-time student?” Oliver asked.
“I'm a part-time student and part-time PA.”
Oliver looked confused. “Public announcement system?”
“Personal assistant. What do you do, Oliver?”
“I'm in engineering. I could do with an assistant with a strong science and maths background, but those people normally want to be engineers, not PAs. I was joking about the public address system, by the way.”
“I gathered that,” Scott replied.
“Strong mathematics and science backgrounds is one thing you’ve got in common.” Professor Graf mastered the aging hippie look. Daily, he wore corduroy as if he owned the patent to the ribbed fabric. His unkempt, long, silver-streaked hair was tied back at all times.
“You’re a personal assistant, so what does that involve?”
“I look after a footballer, his calendar, making arrangements for him. It is very much just admin work. Making sure he’s in the right place at the right time with the correct suit and making sure his bills are paid.”
“Sounds interesting but not at all what I'd expect from a protégé of my father.”
“Oh, I don't know,” said Professor Graf. “Scott was never your typical student. I should think the wild footballer lifestyle suits you.”
“It’s not as wild as you'd think.”
“Don't you have someone special to share New Year's Eve with?” asked Oliver. “A special lady perhaps?”
When had things started to go so strangely wrong, Scott wondered; when did people start mistaking him for a straight man that they even needed to ask?
“Please excuse me, Oliver, Scott,” said the professor. “I’ve just spotted someone I need to talk to. Must mingle a little. I will get back to you, but I've always wanted you two to meet. I know you'll get on well.”
“Is he matchmaking?” Scott watched after the professor as he went to speak to some new arrivals to the party. “There's never been a special lady in my life. Not in that sense of the word. I’m as gay as I think you are, Oliver.”
“And that's why dad was matchmaking,” replied Oliver. “Can I get you another drink?”
Scott liked the attention, even if he was capable of getting his own drink. “Yes. Thank you, let's go together.”
They walked to the bar, set up in the kitchen of the house.
“So you're single then?”
“What makes you think that?” asked Scott. “How could someone as gorgeous as me possibly be single?”
“I don't know how you could be single; that is a mystery. But I know you must be because if you were my boyfriend, there's no way I'd be letting you out on New Year's Eve without me. I'd be with you for New Year's Eve. Oh, and look at this. I am with you on New Year's Eve. I hope that's not too presumptuous of me.”
For a moment, Scott enjoyed the thrill of the overt flirting. Why not? To all the world he was a single man, he couldn't tell his professor or anyone but that he was actually in a long-term relationship. It had been a long time since he'd played the flirting game with a strange man. Although he spent the last three years passing as a single man, he’d become more used to women chatting him up when he was out with Jason. Something that they’d find hilarious, their own private joke.
Scott downed one glass of wine and another while talking to Oliver. They moved from room to room in the massive house, circulating but staying together.
“How come you're single, Oliver?”
“And how do you know I'm single?” asked Oliver.
“Because if I were your boyfriend there's no way I'd let you out on New Year's Eve without me.” Scott dropped into flirt mode with surprising ease and liked it.
“I just haven't met the right man yet, so I've focused on work.”
“Are you out at work?” asked Scott.
Oliver looked surprised by the question. “I've never considered it to be an issue, not in the twenty-first century. I suppose I'm not super obvious but never hid the fact that I'm gay.”
The irony was not lost on Scott. He was very aware he was flirting with a guy similar in many ways to the man he shared a home with and yet so different in other ways. There aren't many men in their twenties who consider it normal to hide their relationship. Not in the twenty-first century.
“I kind of figure I owe it to Oscar Wilde, Turing, and all the others to live as openly as they wanted to but were punished for it when society wasn't ready for them. It's more than ready for us now. What about you? Does your footballer boss know?”
Scott didn’t want to talk about his footballer; his whole body sagged with the burden of the secret. “Let’s not discuss work.”
As they talked, they moved closer and closer. While not actually touching, they were well within each other's sphere, invading personal space.
Scott knew they could be moments as well as inches from kissing. And he wanted to go ahead down that path. It had been years since he kissed a guy when surrounded by strangers.
“Scott.” Liz had a severe edge to her tone of voice. “Do you want to introduce us?”
“Oliver, this is Liz. Liz, this is Professor Graf's son.” Liz's face brightened up considerably. “I've always been fond of your father; he's quite a character and a brilliant teacher.”
“Thank you. I'm not sure whether that's a compliment or secret between us.”
They all smiled as the tension eased.
“I guess Scott’s already told you that we used to share a house when we were students and then when he moved in with his boyfriend. I moved in with them too, but I’ve moved out since then. Giving them their space.”
“His boyfriend. Oh yes,” said Oliver diplomatically.
“I moved out to live with my boyfriend but Scott is still with the same man, and we were discussing the possibility of planning a double wedding.”
Oliver’s eyes widened as he looked at Scott.
Scott was in no doubt Liz was saying these things on purpose. She never normally outed him, knowing his relationship with Jason was top secret.
“Yes, Scott's been with his man for three years. That’s longer than me and mine. They are a lovely couple together but very private.”
“I see,” said Oliver. “I'm thinking I should probably circulate, at this point. I've been hogging all of your attention. Nice to meet you, Liz.”
Oliver walked away into the crowd, and Scott felt a little shamefaced. “What was that about? Liz, you almost outed us. Except that Oliver was so embarrassed he couldn’t get away fast enough after I let him think I was single.”
“I can see Oliver thought you were single. There's no way he'd have got that close to you if
he hadn't have been about to kiss you. I interrupted just in time. What the bloody hell are you playing at?”
The annoyance in her tone surprised Scott. He’d done nothing wrong. He hadn’t kissed anyone. But he couldn’t be sure how far he’d have let things go if she’d not been there.
“Do you and Jason have some kind of open relationship agreement that you haven't told me about because, if you have, that's fine, I'm a broadminded woman, but it would have been good to know. Less of a shock when I saw you gazing into another man’s eyes.”
“No, we haven't got that kind of relationship. You know we haven't. But you know, talking to Mr. Handsome over there reminded me of what I'm missing.” That didn’t sound the way Scott intended it.
“Are you crazy? You've got a man who adores you and who is actually adorable himself. A Cinderella princess lifestyle that millions of women and men would dream of. I don't see much to complain about.”
“I know all that is true. But I'm in my mid-twenties and about the only man in Britain who cannot walk into a public place holding hands with his partner of three years. You are getting married; my partner won't marry me.”
Scott pulled Liz closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “You're right, Liz. I've got a fairytale, Cinderella lifestyle with a man who loves me, and I love him, but after three years the novelty wears a bit thin. Going out with someone who won't even acknowledge our relationship in public, it hurts, Liz; I’m tired of it. I love him, but I have self-respect. And I'm not sure that I can live another year like that.”