the morning so he can be with Daniël when he hits the gym in the afternoon. The need to be in close

proximity to his lover is too urgent to ignore and instead of wondering why this is, he simply accepts

it and acts accordingly. Daniël doesn’t comment on it but he does his job with total dedication, still

sparing a smile and a little wave with his hand now and again for the man who looks up from his

magazine and smiles back, warmly tucked away in a coat and a blanket.

“You’re looking forward to Saturday?” Gabrysz asks after training and lunch.

“Mostly.” Steve nods. “I don’t want the fans and the Bolton players to hurt him.”

“How are they supposed to hurt someone that happy, that much at peace with himself? Where

would they find that kind of power?” Gabrysz smiles at Steve. “And you? How are you doing?”

“Still finding out, I guess. But I’m relieved we’ve found a house so soon and the gaffer is

giving Dan a chance.”

“We’re going to be practically neighbours. Well, I wouldn’t get the car out of the garage to get

from our place to yours and Dan’s. I’ll ask Bronia to cook something typically Polish once you two

have settled. If I offer my help in the kitchen, she might even say yes. Ask the whole Hollycroft KTFC

bunch, wives, kids and all, and make a nice Sunday out of it.” Gabrysz keeps on chattering quite

happily about shops and great little restaurants while they walk to the gym.

Steve doesn’t miss that the big man adjusts his pace, unobtrusively offering support.

Then he feels Daniël’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hi Danny, Kurt kept you busy? Gabrysz and I were just talking about...”

“I heard the last part of it.” Daniël faces the goalie. “You’re offering to be our Hollycroft

touring guide?”

Gabrysz smiles brightly. “On one condition... we get a guys only night, with beer, pizza and

bad movies at your place.”

“You bet.” Dan chuckles. “But now we’ve got work to do.”

After the workout, they drive to their new house to see how things are doing. Daniël shares a

few words with the contractor and Steve feels safe in the knowledge that the organised chaos will be a

home for them in less than six weeks.

“Things are going to plan. The few roof tiles that needed to be replaced have been taken care

of. The wooden floors are freshly stained, they’re almost finished with stripping the old paint from the

doors and posts, and the supplier promised the tiles for the bathroom will be delivered by the end of

next week,” Daniël says. “I bet by the time we really start believing that everything is going perfectly,

trouble will start, so let’s enjoy this while it lasts.”

It’s all fine with Steve. As long as he has a bed to sleep in at night and Daniël to keep him

company, he can’t even pretend he’s worried about paint and tiles and drapes that might or might not

be available the week before the wedding.

*

“I’m honestly looking forward to the match,” Daniël says as he lies comfortably in Steve’s

arms. “But I’m also bloody nervous. It’s been so long. And it’s going to be a night without you. Don’t

like that rule at all. That takes getting used to.”

“Not being allowed to sleep at your own place, even before home matches. Whoever thought

up something like that? Ah well, it’s all part of being a footballer’s husband. You’ll do fine and what

is nicer than missing someone for a short while and seeing him really soon? We will have different

lives, but we’ll never be really apart.”

It’s Friday morning, the day before the match against Bolton. They had breakfast in bed,

lovingly prepared by Daniël and thoroughly enjoyed by both of them. They know they will make love

later but for now, lying closely together, feeling each other, skin touching skin while they softly talk,

is enough.

Steve kisses his lover. “Thank you for letting me taking care of you, even if it’s just by holding

you in my arms.”

Daniël glides his fingers through Steve’s hair. “One of those old ladies back at the hospital told

me it’s almost never fifty-fifty in a marriage, and that’s not a problem as long as you both honestly try

to give what you’re able to. I can live with almost anything, but not having you beside me is the one

thing that would kill me.”

“It scares me at times, what I mean to you, but ...”

“You can accept it?”

“I’m learning to.”

Their kisses grow more urgent; their touches become more to the point. Soon they thrust

against each other, moaning in need.

Steve feels how his filling cock stabs against Daniël’s soft underbelly. “I need...oh please,

Danny...please.”

“What, Steve, what do you need me to give to you?” Daniël covers Steve’s face with countless

feverish kisses. “There is nothing I won’t do for you, but you have to tell me.”

“Need to be inside you.” The urge is now so strong it spins threads of steel inside his body.

“You read my mind or something? You want us on our sides, or shall I ride you?” Daniël gets

the already half-empty bottle of lube. “I won’t need a lot of preparation. Just want your cock inside me

as quickly as possible.”

“I want to try something else.” Steve gets on his knees between Daniël’s widespread legs.

“What...you mean?” Hope flares up in Daniël’s eyes, immediately followed by concern.

“I’ve worked my arse off to be able to do this. I won’t know what my body is capable of unless

I try. Please, Daniël, give me the chance to try.”

And Daniël smiles and nods his head. “Here, I’ll lube your prick so you can push right in.”

Carefully Steve places the head of his cock against the closed, but relaxed pucker. “Yes?”

“Oh yes.”

There’s the resistance of muscle, not of mind, and when he’s in and can’t go further, he stays

still with the wonder of it all. Daniël’s sweet face, looking up at him, his legs around his middle,

trying not to be a burden, keeping him close and deep.

But his body has its own needs and movement starts. Tentative at first, the edge of pain simply

there, but not really there and finally need and want and love take over and he whispers Daniël’s name

and he hears Daniël urging him on.

“Please ....”

The boy is now begging.

“Deeper, I need your cock deeper, taking me, using me, please ...” Complete surrender in his

beloved’s voice. “Yours, all of me, all yours ...”

Pain and pleasure race through Steve’s body, arriving almost simultaneously at the finish.

Burning stars are shooting with blinding light behind his eyes. His body starts to tremble. Then,

finally, his mind shuts down.

“ ... Steve ... please ... where does it hurt ... please...?”

Everywhere, he wants to say, it hurts every-fucking-where and it’s great and I love you so

much if I would say the words my tongue would catch fire … but he can’t, so he opens his eyes and

smiles and hopes it’s enough.

Daniël blushes. “I can’t say I’m sorry, because I can’t lie to you.”

“Good hurt. I remember good hurt” is the first thing he says when he’s able to say anything at

all. “You helped me to remember good hurt.”

Daniël massages and rubs all the aching spots until Steve’s mind may remember the pain, but

his body no longer feels it. There’s nothing but blissful relaxation; Daniël holding him when he falls

asleep and when he wakes up.

*

It’s the day of the match and Steve sits at what he knows to be his seat for the home games as

long as Daniël is part of the team.

“The paparazzi gave you any trouble?” Neil asks.

Steve shakes his head. “Not more than the usual, but thanks for asking.”

He understands the awkwardness of the situation. What to say that doesn’t sound superfluous