Home Goal and My Goal: Two Gay Footballers Stories

by H J Perry

"I don't doubt it. Your behavior is always impeccable apart from when you gatecrash people's hotel rooms, hogging their beds and their TV remote controls."

  "You already said you didn't know what you're gonna watch. It seems to me you need a real man in here to make some decisions."

  CHAPTER NINE

  December

  HARRY

  The energy and excitement on the bus were palpable.

  A bubble of exhilaration fueled by the team's victory at an away match.

  It wasn't far from home. They should be back in Birmingham within two hours. The single guys on the team bus, those who didn't have wives, children, and girlfriends to go home to, were already discussing dancing and drinking dens where they might retreat for post-match celebrations. A few were talking about getting a taxi to London.

  "Are you up for a trip to London, Carlos?"

  Carlos looked up from his iPad and removed one of the earbuds. "Not tonight. I've got plans."

  As always Carlos was seated next to Harry on the bus. The men wanted to know Carlos's plans for the evening.

  Winning in front of the home crowd was one thing, but away games made for champions. BSC was unstoppable at the moment. Every man on the bus was elated. Every man except Harry.

  The players were planning nights out with each other, or on their phones making plans with their friends, or wives and girlfriends. And they were discussing a whole load of overindulgence.

  Not drugs or alcohol or food. The only pleasure fit athletes could overindulge in was sex. The conversation turned to sex so often that Harry had every reason to believe the guys were going to do what they claimed. Every man, it seemed, except him.

  Harry wanted to win; he felt excited when they won, and he shared a fleeting moment of joy every time his team scored. Every time the final whistle blew on a match in which they were leading the elation was an extreme emotion that he felt only fleetingly, but from experience, he knew the rest of the guys would still be on a high when they pulled into Birmingham. Harry's joy was short-lived, lasting about the same amount of time as it took to eat his muesli in the morning, on those mornings that he chose muesli.

  "Harry? What about you? Are you up for a night out in London?"

  "Not tonight." He was just looking forward to getting home and no training session tomorrow.

  Harry had always known he was different from the rest of the football team. And it was never more apparent to him than at moments like this. By hiding and denying his very nature, he'd curbed his emotions to such an extent that he couldn't experience the elation of success with the other guys. By hiding his feelings, he didn't have them, he'd completely annihilated them.

  Maybe that was why he was one of the team's more mediocre players, lacking the drive and passion of the likes of Eric, Jason, and Carlos, because he couldn't share the joy of victory to the same degree.

  Harry closed his eyes, let his head fall to the side, letting the movement of the vehicle lull him to sleep.

  Considering he did nothing about the fact he was gay, it took an awful lot of energy. And he felt isolated most of the time when surrounded by his teammates. Harry only had a reprieve when at home. And with his closest friends, even though they didn't know his secret. Jason, Scott, Liz, and now Carlos also counted as a close friend. Now and again he was tempted to confide in Scott, but wasn't sure why.

  He alone on the bus had committed to celibacy, and not through choice, but necessity.

  Meeting Scott at the beginning of the year and discovering his teammate Jason was gay, was a revelation to Harry. A discreet relationship wasn't a route open to Harry. If his family found out about his evil desires, they would disown him. If he acted on them, he wouldn't go to heaven, and if anyone else found out, his career in football would be intolerable and as good as over.

  "Harry, you must join us for drinks in Brum. Celebrate the win."

  "Yes, I'll be there." It's not as if Harry had any place else to be. "We meeting up at the usual place?"

  "Yes, and going on to the Night Owl."

  Carlos had plans. Jason had Scott at home. Everyone had something to do, but Harry would go back to his apartment alone.

  CARLOS

  "I heard you've got plans for tonight, but if I can tempt you to stand them up, I've got an alternative celebration suggestion. It involves a fridge full of beer and a deliver-to-my-door pizza menu. What do you say?"

  Carlos asked as soon as the taxi pulled away from the football club for the final couple of miles of their journey home.

  "It sounds decadent."

  "I thought you might like to stay in with me, and watch films and drink beer. But don't tell anyone from the club, especially about the high-calorie takeaway pizza which is most definitely not part of my prescribed diet."

  "I thought you had plans?"

  "Yeah. I do have a plan, and it didn't involve all of that lot." Carlos grinned. "My plan is to spend the night indulging with you, drinking beer, eating sinful food, and watching films."

  "Really?" asked Harry. "I had you down as more of a party animal given the opportunity."

  "I know how to party, Harry, don't challenge me." Carlos chuckled. "I haven't forgotten tomorrow morning. We are meeting your mom for church."

  Harry looked surprised.

  "You're serious about that? I thought you were joking."

  "Of course. I'm stocked up on supplies for a night at home and an early night."

  The short trip was over in minutes, and Harry stopped off in his own home briefly before going to the lower apartment.

  Inside Carlos's apartment, he handed control of the evening's TV schedule to his guest. Carlos dug out a couple of pizza menus and put them on the table in front of the TV. He then went to dig out beer. He brought out eight bottles of lager in a cooler bag.

  "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 to 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."