|
|
|
Navigating the site You can use the above
buttons to take you to an index of stories by either Gymnopedies or
The Balrog, which also provides a short overview of each story.
Alternatively, you can use the drop down menus in the menu bar
along the top of the screen to jump straight to a particular story.
|
|
Chapter 13
Soccer wasn't Jack's favourite game. In fact he wasn't really into team
sports of any description. However he knew how much winning this match
meant to Chris, and if he could make his brother happy by giving up a
couple of hours of his Saturday afternoon to go along and show support
then it was a small price to pay. Westdale High had finished top of the
area league for as far back as anyone could remember, right up until
this current season. This year Jack's school, Elmwood. had turned things
around and were currently holding onto that coveted top position with
Westdale pushed down into second place. That could all change. If Chris'
team managed to win today they would emerge as this year's league
champions. If they lost they would have to be satisfied with second
place and Westdale would once more take the honours.
The day had turned out to be pretty warm, even humid, and Jack was glad
that all he had to do was stand on the sidelines and watch. The game had
only been underway for a few minutes and already the boys on the pitch
had sweat running down their faces.
A cheer went up from the Elmwood supporters; Chris had the ball and was
taking it swiftly down the right hand side of the pitch. Standing next
to Jack, Alex was screaming support to his brother and just behind, Andy
was shouting almost as loudly. Chris made it past one of the opposing
players and made a perfect pass across to the centre to one of his
team-mates. The boy brought the ball under control and took a shot at
the goal. There was tremendous cheer, turning instantly into a moan of
disappointment as the Westdale keeper made a brilliant dive and caught
the ball in his arms.
Jack groaned and shook his head, just like everyone else, caught up in
the collective emotions of the crowd. He glanced to his left where, a
little further down the pitch, Mike stood with his father. Jack had kept
trying to catch Mike's eye, but it was if the younger boy was
deliberately avoiding looking in Jack's direction. Jack felt an
overwhelming need to speak to the thirteen year old and find the reason
for his strange behaviour earlier that day. He didn't think Mike would
tell anyone about the things they had done together, but it worried him
that the boy appeared upset about something.
Beside Jack, Alex had suddenly started going frantic, as indeed had most
of the sizeable crowd. A Westdale player had the ball and was going
almost straight down the middle, passing the Elmwood players as though
they didn't exist. The Elmwood defenders rushed out to meet him, but at
the last moment he crossed the ball to another Westdale player, giving
him a clear run through. Westdale took the shot, the Elmwood keeper
fumbled it, and the ball went in. Elmwood were one-nil down.
Alex stamped his foot, looking furious and Jack heard Andy telling the
boy not to worry, there was plenty of time left to even things up.
The rest of the first half passed fairly uneventfully. Now that Westdale
were in the lead they had adopted a defensive strategy, content to keep
the ball away from their goal area and not take any unnecessary chances.
When the referee's whistle signalled the end of the first half there
were glum looks on the faces of both the Elmwood players and their
supporters.
As the players from both teams left the pitch for the obligatory pep
talks from their coaches, Jack decided it was time for a little talking
of his own. He told Andy there was something he needed to do and that
he'd be back in a few minutes. Alex had wanted to tag along, but
realising that Jack wanted to go alone Andy had talked the youngster
into staying with him instead.
Mike saw Jack approaching and said something to his dad before coming to
meet the older boy.
"Hi," said Jack, a little uncomfortably.
"Hi." Mike looked equally uncomfortable.
They looked at each other for a few seconds before Jack said, "Want to
take a walk?"
"Sure."
Jack began walking away from the pitch and supporters, towards a quieter
area. Mike fell into step beside him.
"Your ankle seems better," said Jack, just really for something to say.
"You're hardly limping at all now."
"It's fine most of the time, just sometimes I forget to be careful and
put my foot down wrong, then it hurts."
"Bet you wish you were out there playing. Maybe you could have helped
stop that goal."
Mike gave a laugh. "I don't think I could have made any difference. I'm
not exactly the best player on the team. Both Chris and Tim are much
better than I am."
"Chris seems to think you're pretty good."
"Yeah, well, Chris would."
Jack drew a deep breath and jumped right in. "Mike, what happened this
morning?"
Mike didn't answer straight away. He stopped walking, forcing Jack to
stop as well. The two boys looked into each other's eyes.
Eventually Mike dropped his gaze. "I don't know. I sorta freaked I
guess."
"Was it what we did? Didn't you like it?"
"Sure I liked it. I've dreamed about doing stuff like that enough times.
Shit, I'd even imagined doing it with you before." He suddenly realised
what he'd said and his face turned red.
"You did?" This had come as a bit of shock. Jack didn't know what to
say.
"Yeah." Mike raised his eyes and a sheepish grin split his blushing
face. "I've always thought you were pretty hot."
Now it was Jack's turn to blush. He looked away until he'd regained his
composure. "I would have thought you would prefer Chris, he's more your
age."
Mike shrugged. "Chris is really hot as well. Even Alex is cute. I never
thought I'd get the chance to play around with any of you though."
"You sure had me worried when you walked out on us this morning," said
Jack.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. Like I said, I don't really know what happened. All
the time there was this voice in my head asking if I should be doing
that stuff. Then afterwards I felt so guilty, as though I'd done
something wrong. I just needed to be on my own for a bit to think things
through."
"So how do you feel about it now?" Jack asked, trying to understand but
not yet feeling as though he had a handle on the problem.
"Confused," said Mike. "I guess it's pretty obvious by now that I'm not
into girls, I like other guys. What we did this morning was one of the
most exciting things that has ever happened to me, or it would have been
if I hadn't felt so bad about it all. I really want to do stuff like
that, but at the same time it sorta scares me."
"So what do you want to do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, do you want to try some more stuff, or would you prefer to forget
it ever happened?"
Mike gave a shy smile. "After I bolted like that I thought maybe you
wouldn't want anything else to do with me," he said, avoiding the
question.
Jack put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Funny, I was thinking the same
thing about you. Look, I'll leave it up to you. If you would like to
play around some more then tell me when you're ready, 'cos I'd certainly
love to. Or if you want you can come round sometime and we can just talk
or sit and listen to some music or whatever."
"Sounds great," said Mike, his smile more confident now. He looked over
his shoulder, back towards the pitch. "We'd better get back, the second
half will be starting soon."
"Yeah," Jack nodded. "And Elmwood are going to need all the support they
can get if they're going to turn this around. Chris has his heart set on
winning this championship."
"He sure does," Mike agreed. "He's worse than the rest of the team put
together. You don't know how much it meant him to him, you helping him
complete that homework assignment so that he would be able to play. It
would have killed him if he'd had to sit on the side and watch."
As the two boys walked back to the pitch, Jack felt much more relaxed
than he had a few minutes earlier. At least everything was now sorted
out with Mike. It also felt good knowing how much Chris had appreciated
his help. He decided that during the second half he was going to do some
serious cheering.
"What's happening with Mike?" Alex asked, as Jack rejoined his uncle and
younger brother.
"He's fine," Jack replied. "There were some things he had to think
about, but he's ok now."
"So does that mean he'll be coming round again?" asked Alex, hopefully.
"You'll just have to wait and see," Jack grinned.
A few moments later they were joined by Mike and his dad who had moved
along to stand with them.
The second half got underway. Elmwood immediately went into attack.
Whatever their coach had said to them during the half-time break had
obviously had some effect as they pushed forwards, more determined than
ever. Jack realised he was shouting at the top of his lungs as one of
the Elmwood players passed the ball to Tim who was perfectly placed on
the left wing. A bit of clever manoeuvring and he was around the last
defender, but he had just a split second to aim and shoot as another
Westdale player charged in for the tackle. Tim took the shot at a run.
There was collective in-drawing of breath from the Elmwood supporters,
followed immediately by a disappointed groan as the Westdale goalkeeper
managed to get the tips of his fingers to the ball, changing it's path
just enough for it to catch the post and bounce out where it was safely
cleared by one of the defenders.
Play continued for the next twenty minutes or so with neither side
getting especially close to scoring. A botched attempt by Westdale was
easily saved by the Elmwood keeper. Then suddenly, Tim once more had the
ball. He powered up the left wing, appearing virtually unstoppable. As
two of the Westdale players converged on him he made an excellent cross
to the centre where Chris was waiting to receive it. Chris caught the
ball on his chest and as it dropped to the ground, he bent, pivoted on
his left foot and blasted it straight towards the goal. The Westdale
keeper dived but didn't stand chance. The ball flew past him and into
the back of the net.
The roar from the Elmwood fans was deafening. Alex stopped his excited
leaping up and down just long enough hug Jack then turned back to the
pitch and resumed his cheering.
"Now we're back in with a chance," said Jack to Mike, a huge grin on his
face.
Mike too was grinning happily. He gave a quick glance at his watch.
"Less than twenty minutes to go. We need another one yet."
"If Elmwood are at the top of the league, won't a draw be enough?" Jack
asked.
Mike shook his head. "Not if Westdale win their match against Brookford
next week. If that happens then they'll beat us on points; they'll win
the league. Brookford are a pushover, we beat them 4-nil. But if we beat
Westdale today, they can't catch us; the trophy's ours."
It now appeared as though Westdale agreed with Mikes assessment of the
situation and were willing to content themselves with a draw. They went
into full defensive mode pulling their players back to defend their
goal. Elmwood made some valiant attempts to get through but each time
they were repelled. One such attempt looked like it might make it, with
Tim once more taking the ball down the left side and managing to break
through some of the opposing team's defences. It looked like he was
about to try a repeat of their earlier strategy, but as he prepared to
cross the ball towards the centre, there was no one there to receive it.
Jack looked back down the pitch to see Chris angrily picking himself up
from the ground.
Alex was almost screaming in fury. "It was that big guy," he shouted.
"The one with the long hair. He deliberately tripped Chris."
Jack felt a surge of anger as he realised what had happened. Whilst
almost everyone, including the referee had been focussed on the ball,
one of Westdale's players had taken the opportunity to foul Chris,
tripping him as he ran to get into position. The offending player
trotted down the pitch, a smirk on his face. A few of the Elmwood
supporters who had witnessed the foul were shouting to him, but he
casually gave them the finger and turned his back.
The minutes ticked by. The end of the match was fast approaching and as
it came closer, so Elmwood's chances of winning the championship
gradually receded.
Mike again looked down at his watch, a worried expression on his face.
"Less than five minutes to go," he said, to no one in particular.
Jack continued to shout support with the rest of the crowd, but he could
feel hope disappearing as the minutes ticked by. He watched as Chris ran
past, seeing the tension and fatigue on his brother's face. He shouted
out a some words of encouragement, but wasn't sure if Chris had even
heard.
The pace on the pitch, which seemed to have been slowing down suddenly
picked up again and it became apparent that Elmwood were making a last
ditch all or nothing attempt to get through the Westdale defence. Almost
all of Elmwood's players had moved forwards passing the ball between
them with skill and accuracy that would have done credit to many
semi-professional teams. A few yards forwards, then a few back, keeping
control of the ball. Their progress seemed painfully slow. There
couldn't be more than a couple of minutes left. Then, one of the Elmwood
players must have seen an opening, he took his chance and made a shot at
the goal, probably more an act of desperation than a calculated attempt
to score. The ball flew towards the goal. The keeper wasn't going to get
to it. Hope surged in Jack's chest. This was it!
The ball struck the post and ricocheted back. The shot had missed.
Jack groaned and closed his eyes to try to shut out the disappointment.
However, a second later he heard Alex scream out "Go Chris!" A shout
that was echoed from the crowd. Jack quickly opened his eyes to see
Chris in possession of the ball. He was almost at the Westdale goal. The
goalkeeper, who had dropped to the ground in an effort to block the
previous shot was still trying to get to his feet. The goal was open,
undefended. There was no way Chris could possibly miss.
Seemingly out of nowhere, one of the Westdale players powered into
Chris, knocking him from his feet to the ground where he landed heavily.
It was the same big, long-haired jock who had openly tripped the boy
earlier in the match. This time, however, he wasn't satisfied with the
deliberate foul. In full view of the entire crowd he drew back his foot
and aimed a viscous kick at the helpless teenager. The booted foot
caught Chris heavily on the shoulder and his head went back in a cry of
pain which was drowned out by the roar from the spectators.
The wave of fury from the Elmwood supporters was almost palpable, made
even worse when the big jock turned to face them and held his arms in
the air as if receiving applause. Jack couldn't control himself. He
lunged forwards, the one thought in his mind was to beat the shit out of
bastard who had assaulted his brother. He was brought up short by a
steely grip on his arm.
"Leave it, Jack. That won't help, let the referee sort it out." Andy's
face was pale with suppressed anger and it was obvious that in spite of
his words it was taking a great effort for him not to go out there
himself.
However, there was someone else who wasn't willing to wait for the
referee. With a cry a rage Tim ploughed into the jock with such force
that the two of them tumbled to the ground in a wild heap of thrashing
arms and pummelling fists. Tim was much smaller and lighter than his
adversary, but he didn't let that stop him and such was his
determination that it took three of his team-mates to pull him off. Even
then he struggled like a madman to free himself and get back into the
fight. The jock got to his feet and for a moment it looked like he was
going to take the fight to Tim, but luckily for the smaller the boy the
referee managed to get between them first. There was a great deal of
shouting and waving of arms culminating in a cheer from the Elmwood side
as the Jock was sent off, though seconds later this was matched be a
groan as Tim received the same treatment.
Luckily it didn't look as though Chris was too badly hurt. He'd got
shakily to his feet, and was painfully massaging his shoulder. The
referee went over to talk to him; it looked like he was asking him if he
was ok. The ref's arm went up and he gave a short blast on his whistle
as he awarded Elmwood a penalty kick.
A ripple of excitement passed through the spectators as Chris placed the
ball and stepped back ready to take his run up. As the referee signalled
for the kick to be taken, complete silence fell. Jack felt Alex's hand
seek out his own, squeezing hard and he gave the youngster's hand a
reassuring squeeze in return. His own heart was pounding as he watched
Chris standing calm and determined, preparing himself to take the shot.
Jack tried to imagine the pressure that Chris would be under at this
moment; the whole outcome of the championship rested on his shoulders
For several long seconds Chris stared down at the ball before raising
his eyes to look at the Westdale keeper. A small smile touched his lips
then quickly vanished, leaving just blank concentration. He started
forwards, his limbs moving with the sure grace of a born athlete. There
was a sharp, collective intake of breath as he made contact, the thud of
leather on leather clearly audible to everyone in the crowd. The ball
rocketed towards the goal. The keeper reacted, moving to intercept; he
wasn't fast enough. The ball hit the back of the net. The roar from the
Elmwood fans was deafening.
There was complete uproar. The sound of the referee's whistle signalling
the official end of the match was almost drowned out by the shouts and
cheers of the Elmwood supporters, many of whom were now on the pitch.
Chris disappeared from view, completely engulfed by the pressing bodies
of his overjoyed team-mates. Jack felt an overwhelming urge to rush
forwards and hug his brother, but there was no way he would be able to
get even close so he satisfied himself with throwing his arms around
Mike instead. Alex came next and then Andy; it seemed that everyone was
hugging everyone else.
The celebrations and cheering continued as they watched a beaming Chris
lifted onto the shoulders of the other Elmwood players and carried from
the field. Jack couldn't remember ever seeing his brother looking so
happy and he felt a surge of pride in what the fourteen year old had
just done. "He did it," he said, grinning so hard his face hurt.
"He sure did," Mike replied, looking just as happy.
"I wouldn't have missed that for anything," smiled Andy, hugging Alex
tightly. He put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "This past few days have
made me realise that I don't spend enough time with you guys. We're
going to have to do something about that."
"I'll hold you to that," said Jack, happily. He turned as Mike nudged
his arm.
"C'mon."
"Where're we going?" Jack asked, starting to follow Mike onto the pitch.
"You'll see."
"Hey what about me?" Alex called, quickly coming after them.
Jack gave Mike a questioning look. "Can he come along?"
"I don't see why not," the thirteen year old replied with shrug.
It soon became apparent where Mike was leading them.
"Are you sure we should be going in there?" Jack asked, as they
approached the door to the boy's locker room.
"No problem," replied Mike. "I am on the team, remember?"
"Yeah, but we aren't."
"Stop worrying. C'mon, let's get inside." He went in, holding the door
open for Jack and Alex to follow. "Westdale will be using the Senior
Boys' locker room next door," the thirteen year old explained.
They went down a short corridor and through an inner door into the
locker room itself. Even before they entered they could hear the raised
voices of a dozen or so extremely happy teenagers shouting, laughing and
joking with one another. Inside, the room smelled of a mixture sweat and
damp clothing with a slight undertone of muscle-rub. Thirteen boys in
various stages of undress, some standing, some sitting on low benches
were dotted around the room in small groups, mostly oblivious to the
newcomers. Along one wall was an open sided shower area; the steaming
water splashed noisily from the shower heads onto the floor, though none
of the boys had entered the showers yet.
The team coach, the only adult in the room, was talking to one of the
players. He looked across as the three boys entered and gave Mike a
smile and a wave of acknowledgement. A couple of seconds later he
finished his conversation and headed over towards them.
"Hi, Mike. How ya doing? How's the ankle?"
"Getting better, thanks coach," Mike replied. "Just sorry I couldn't be
out there today."
"Me too," the man gripped Mike's shoulder. "But these things happen.
Just take care of that foot, I want you fit and ready for the start of
next season." He turned to Jack. "You're Chris' brother, right? Damn,
but you boys look alike. I hear it's you that we have to thank for
making sure that our star player didn't miss the match. That Simmons
woman can be so damned unreasonable sometimes." He took hold of Jack's
hand in a solid grip and gave it a shake. "I guess we all owe you one."
"No problem," said Jack, feeling a bit embarrassed. He wondered just how
many people Chris had told.
The coach gave a beaming grin then turned to look around the room. "Come
on, you guys," he shouted, his voice easily cutting through the noise.
"Get a move on and hit the showers. I'm sure we've all got some serious
celebrating to do; mine involves a bar not far from here and a bottle of
something nice and cold. If I don't get there soon my buddies are likely
to start without me, so be quick get your pale, skinny butts underneath
that water. With a smile and a shake of his head went into his small
office-room.
The three boys made their way across the room to Tim and Chris. Chris
was of course very much the centre of attention following his
performance on the pitch, the other boys would call out to him or pause
to say a few words to him as they passed on their way to the shower. By
this stage several of the boys were in the shower, the water splashing
down onto their naked bodies as they washed away the grime from the
match. Other boys were still in the process of pulling off their
clothes. As Jack watched, a boy standing next to Chris dropped his
shorts and briefs, paused to scratch his leg then picked up his towel
and headed for the shower. Both Tim and Chris were shirtless, Chris was
still wearing his shorts, but Tim was wearing only a pair of quite tight
blue briefs. Being surrounded by cute, naked and nearly naked boys made
Jack's heart begin to beat quickly. It was difficult to know where to
look without appearing to be staring at some boy's body.
Alex though didn't seem to be suffering from this problem. He knew
exactly where to look. His gaze moved around from the boys in the
shower, took in Chris' exposed upper torso and came to rest on the small
but nicely formed bulge in the front of Tim's tight briefs. The hard
lump in the front of Alex's pants was apparent even to Jack and he
wished his youngest brother wouldn't be quite so obvious about his
attraction to other boys.
"Hey, guys!" smiled Tim, as the boys approached. The twins greeted his
brother with a smile and a quick hug, then to Jack's surprise, he and
Alex received hugs of their own. As Jack's hands made contact with the
smooth, warm skin of Tim's bare back and the side of his chest, the
older teen felt his stomach flip; the physical contact was far too brief
as far as he was concerned.
Chris' greeting was far more reserved, consisting of just a nod and an
almost shy smile.
"Well?" asked Tim, grinning. "Was he amazing or not?" He threw his arm
around Chris' shoulders, causing the boy to wince painfully. "Oops,
sorry. I forgot. I should have killed that shit-head."
"You ok?" asked Jack, gently taking hold of his brother's arm and
turning him around so that he could see the back of his shoulder. A
large patch looked red and swollen.
"It'll be fine," said Chris, pulling away. "The coach had a good prod
and poke around. He says there's nothing broken, but it'll probably be
sore for a few days."
"I bet it will," said Jack, with a grimace.
"Jack would have given the guy a good thumping if Uncle Andy hadn't held
him back," Alex chimed in.
"Really?" asked Chris, his shy smile returning.
"Yeah, Jack was all set to run onto the pitch and get him, but Uncle
Andy grabbed his arm," Alex continued.
"I was angry," Jack explained, trying to catch Alex's eye and get him to
shut up. "Though I sure don't blame Tim for getting stuck in."
"No one does something like that to my best friend and gets away with
it," Tim grinned. "Come on, Chris, we'd better get into the shower
before Coach comes out and finds we're still not ready." He casually
pushed down his briefs and stepped out of them then picked up his towel
and put it across his shoulder as he waited for his friend.
Jack let his gaze wander up Tim's slim body, taking in every detail. The
young teen made no attempt to cover himself as he waited to Chris to
remove his shorts. Jack glanced at Mike and received a knowing smile in
return.
Turning his back, Chris pushed down his shorts and picking them up from
the floor he dropped them on the bench. His blue and white briefs
quickly followed as he pushed them down, stepped out of them and wrapped
a towel around himself all in one quick movement before turning to face
the other boys, his face slightly flushed.
Jack had managed to get a quick look at his brother's beautifully shaped
ass cheeks before they had disappeared from view behind the towel. He
watched as the boy followed Tim across to the shower area, hung the
towel on a peg and stepped under the water. Since the shower was open
sided, Jack had a clear view of Chris and Tim, along with three other
boys as they rinsed themselves under the hot spray.
"You're eyes are going to pop out of your head if you keep staring like
that," Mike laughed, softly.
"Am I that obvious?" Jack asked, blushing.
"Only to someone watching you," said Mike. "I saw you getting a good
eyeful of Tim."
"Yeah, well, you can't blame me. He's cute as hell, just like his twin
bother."
Now it was Mike's turn to blush. "Alex seems to be enjoying the view,"
the young teen observed.
"Alex is a little pervert," Jack grinned. He stooped and picked Chris'
briefs from the floor, squeezed them in his hand for a second as he
thought about what they had been in contact with, then dropped them onto
the bench on top of the boy's shorts. Chris and Tim were now alone in
the shower. As Jack watched, Tim said something to Chris then came out
to collect his towel. A second later Chris followed.
For a moment Jack thought his heart was going to stop. As Chris walked
out of the shower to pick up his towel, the older boy had a completely
unobstructed view of the fourteen year old's body; his lightly toned,
perfectly proportioned chest; his tight, smooth stomach; his firm legs;
the small patch of light coloured pubic hair at the base of his stomach
and the slim penis hanging limply between his thighs. For the first time
in ages, Jack saw the boy he had loved and lusted after completely,
beautifully naked and the thumping in his chest told him he was now even
more under the boy's spell than ever before. He swallowed hard and
forced himself to look away, trying to regain his composure as Chris
retrieved his towel and turning his back, quickly dried himself before
wrapping the towel once more around his waist and coming over to get his
clothes.
"You guys don't need to wait around," said Chris. "You get going if you
want and we'll follow when we're done."
"We're not in any rush," said Jack, trying to sound casual. He had to
force himself not to stare at his brother's smooth chest. "We might as
well wait for you now and then we can all walk home together.
Chris gave a small shrug then reached for his briefs, pulling them on
under his towel. Only when they were safely in place did he remove the
towel.
Jack sighed to himself; Chris looked so sexy clad only in his tight
underwear.
As Chris put the towel over his shoulders in order to properly dry his
back, he grimaced and gave a grunt of pain.
"Come here," Jack said, quickly stepping forwards and taking hold of the
towel.
"I can manage," said Chris.
"Yeah, sure you can." Ignoring the protests, Jack took the towel from
his brother and rubbed it over the boy's back then very gently patted
his injured shoulder dry. Even this light contact was enough to cause
Chris to wince. "I wish I could get my hands on the guy who did this,"
said Jack, feeling a renewed surge of helpless anger.
"Maybe a good job you can't," said Chris, with a pained smile. "The
guy's an animal; he'd probably put you in hospital."
"It was lucky for Tim that the other guys broke up the fight, otherwise
I might have ended up an only twin," Mike grinned.
"Hey, I could have handled him, no problem," boasted Tim. He flicked his
towel at his brother, causing Mike to jump out of the way, laughing.
"Aren't you lot finished yet?" the coach's voice boomed across the room.
"You've got one minute before I put you all out on the field and lock
the doors, and I don't care if you are still naked!" He shot a quick a
quick look at Tim who had still not even put his briefs on.
"Better get a move on," Jack laughed, as Tim scrambled for his clothes.
There was quite a party atmosphere as Andy and the three brothers sat
around the table for their evening meal. The main subject of
conversation was of course the soccer game, and especially Chris'
winning penalty kick.
Towards the end of the meal they were disturbed by the telephone. Alex,
who was closest to the door, jumped up to answer it. There was a slight
pause and then his excited voice came from the hallway. "Hi, Mom. Guess
what? Chris won his soccer match."
"I did have some help; I didn't do it all on my own," laughed Chris from
the kitchen.
"Yeah, ok. I'll put him on," came Alex's voice. "Uncle Andy, Mom wants
you."
"St. George goes to fight the evil dragon," Andy grinned at the two
older boys as he went to the phone.
"What did she say?" Jack asked Alex, as the younger boy retook his seat
at the table.
"Nothing at all really," Alex shrugged. "I told her about Chris winning
the game and she just said 'very nice dear, put your Uncle Andrew on,'
and that was it." The boys all looked at one another.
"She might be ringing to say they're staying a bit longer," Jack
suggested.
"They can't stay much longer; Dad has work on Monday," Chris pointed
out.
A few seconds later Andy reappeared. "I've some good news for you," he
said. "Your Mom and Dad will be back tomorrow evening."
Jack felt his heart sink and immediately felt guilty at the reaction.
Having Andy around for the past couple of days had been really nice and
he'd secretly been hoping that this visit would last just a little bit
longer. "You'll still be able to stay for a couple more days won't you?"
he asked his uncle.
Andy shook his head. "I really should be getting back. I've a lot of
things to take care of."
"Yeah, I suppose."
The final part of the meal was much quieter than the first part. None of
the boys seemed especially pleased by the news that their parents would
be coming back the next day. After they'd finished eating, Andy decided
he'd better take a look at Chris' shoulder.
"It's ok, really," said the fourteen year old. "The coach had a look at
it and said it would be fine in a few days."
"I still want a look at it myself," said Andy. "Your coach won't have to
face your mother when she gets back, I will. I don't want to even think
about what she might do to me if she thought I hadn't taken proper care
of you. Let's get you into the lounge, get your shirt off and have a
proper look."
Reluctantly, Chris led the way into the lounge, Jack following closely.
If Chris was about to take his shirt off, the older boy intended to be
around to see it.
Andy took hold of the hem of Chris' shirt and carefully lifted it over
the boy's head. Chris folded his arms in front of his bare chest,
looking a little uncomfortable. Jack moved in closer for a better look
as Andy delicately felt around the large purple bruise on the back of
Chris' shoulder.
"Doesn't look like there's any serious damage," said Andy, his
expression one of concern. "But it's going to very sore for a while.
Just promise me that you'll take it easy and don't do anything stupid
where you're likely to knock it or anything."
"Alright, I promise. Can I put my shirt back on now?"
"Yeah. Here, Let me help you." Andy held the garment open while Chris
carefully put his arms through the holes, being careful not to move his
shoulder any more than absolutely necessary.
The boys settled down to watch TV, though Jack found that he spent more
time looking at Chris than at the screen. Today he'd managed to get a
good if brief look at his brother coming out of the shower; just the
memory was enough to make his heart beat faster and his dick start to
harden. He was now more determined than ever to find some way of getting
Chris naked so that he could have another really good look and maybe
even actually touch that beautiful body. It might take a while, but
there had to be a way.
Comments about the above story can be made on the
discussion board or you can
email me at gym@softhome.net
|