over there at the girl’s table. And Emma and Jane are such lovely ladies; I really should invite them

for a trip to Rotterdam.”

Steve sits alone for a brief moment, simply enjoying looking at the dancers.

“This chair is free?”

“For the gaffer? Always.”

“You can have him all to yourself for a week. After that, I want him back in one piece, training

for the next match.” That’s Arnaud Degaré: always on the job.

“You’re definitely thinking about keeping him?”

“I have to consider the competition and the matches we have to win, the composition of rest of

the team of course. I brought this club into the top half of the table, but I’m not fully happy yet

because I know there is more in it for us. It would be illogical to let him go at this moment. Him and

Neil, that defenders partnership could get interesting in the not too far future, when Niko is saying his

goodbyes to us and Anthony might need to be rested now and again.”

“Because he’s good? Not out of pity?” He just has to ask it.

Degaré frowns. “When do I ever have pity for anyone as a manager?”

“That’s true. I assume I will be formally released from the club at the next window?”

An affirmative nod.

“Very decent; the club kept me on the payroll all those months. They must have known pretty

early on I wouldn’t come back. But I had this feeling, before...before … that you would have put me in

the window anyway.”

Another nod.

They sit in silence for a few seconds. Then Steve looks up and smiles. “Joining us, Danny?”

Daniël sits down between the two other men. “Wanted to look see if mum and dad are all right,

but mum’s too busy with the girls and dad is pretending he can actually understand anything the

groundsmen are talking about. Hey gaffer, thanks for sharing our day with us. I really appreciate it.”

“Why so formal? I just told your husband I want you fit for training in one week.” Degaré gets

up. “Madame Degaré is going to do something unspeakable to me if she doesn’t get at least one more

dance.”

Daniël takes the opportunity to get a bit closer to Steve. “You’re still fine, love?”

“You have to ask me that?”

“Not really. I’m just trying to find an excuse to kidnap you to our home.”

“Great wedding, guys. Don’t think there’s anyone not amusing themselves.” Gael crashes on to

the nearest chair. “Excellent food, enough to drink, great DJ and a nice mixture of likeable people.

And above all, a couple who are genuinely doing this out of love and nothing else.”

“This the guys’ table?” Gabrysz asks and pulls up a chair.

“Must be,” Matthew says, while he too sits down, “since we are here.”

“Is it okay if ...?” But Kevin already sits.

“Ray, we’re here. No, here, you blind or something?” Kurt shouts through the room. “Etienne,

here. And tell Alexandre he should stop flirting with that cute little waitress.”

“Mind if I?” Dag sits down. “Anyone seen ‘Cesco? Hey, pretty boy, come sit with me.”

“Did I miss anything?” Niko asks. “Neil, take a chair, if you can find one and squish in.”

“Wait for me.” Anthony grins. “Now, who starts with the first dirty joke?”

And there’re jokes and funny stories and yet another try at explaining why something is

hilarious in French but not in English, and the other way around.

Steve, getting perhaps a tiny bit tired, leans happily into his husband. Daniël has his arm

around him and nuzzles his hair. “Smells really nice. You, I mean, but the cologne you’re using is

pretty much okay, too.”

“Get a room, fellas.”

“Need us to tell you about the birds...make that the bees and the bees?”

“I bet Dan’s too embarrassed to get up from behind the table.”

“The poor lad just got married, what do you expect?”

“See that, Anthony? Steve’s face is even redder than yours when you’re screaming at us during

a match.”

“You guys think it’s about time we send them on their way?”

“What do you think, Mr Gavan-Borghart, should we follow their advice?”

Steve nods and smiles. “Take me home, please.”

Chapter 34

Two steps inside their new home and they start kissing. With a hunger that’s as real as the love

and friendship that bind them.

“Getting married gets me horny as hell,” Steve hears Daniël whisper in his ear, his tongue

teasing a trail. “That, and not having had any for two whole days.”

“You mean ...?”

“Not even under the shower. I saved it all for you. Feel like I could do it five times in one night

and still having left enough for a quickie in the morning.” Daniël rubs his obvious erection against

Steve’s belly to accentuate his words.

Steve has to admit, there’s definitely something stirring down there, too...and where’s the

nearest comfortable surface so he doesn’t have to worry about how long he’ll manage to keep standing

up with a semblance of dignity?

“What about we take this to the bedroom? See if that bed is as comfortable as the salesperson

promised.” Another kiss. Then, his hand in Daniël’s, they walk slowly, carefully up the stairs. There is

pain with every step, and yet so much joy is to be found in this simple act, that had been unimaginable

hardly more than a year ago and physically still impossible at the beginning of autumn. Them walking

up the stairs to the bedroom in their own home. Them wearing each other’s rings. Them being

together. The iron bed is the undisputed centrepiece of the room. It’s huge, with a handmade mattress,

nice warm duvet and more than enough pillows. Egyptian cotton sheets (high thread count, of course).

Soft wall-to-wall carpet on the floor.

On the table close to the window, there’s a cooler with a bottle of champagne, two glasses, a

huge box of expensive Belgian chocolates and a basket.

Daniël takes a look and starts to grin. “Fuckers.”

“At least they have excellent taste,” Steve chuckles.

The basket contains massage oils in at least half a dozen different fragrances and probably

every brand of lube available in every single sex shop in and around Kinbridge, all neatly displayed.

And finally there are two red roses in a narrow, high vase with a small card standing against

the crystal.

We don’t want to see the two of you back until it’s all used up, the boys.

“They’re not just fuckers, they’re sentimental fuckers.”

Steve winks. “I guess we shouldn’t complain; they could have barricaded the front door. Or

dismantled the bed and hidden the pieces all over the place. Or ...” His words are stopped by a coffee

flavoured piece of bitter chocolate, directly followed by Daniël’s mouth.

“Let me taste?”

Steve opens his lips readily to receive his husband’s eagerly exploring tongue. With both hands

on Steve’s backside, Daniël presses their body together, panting in excitement. “Tell me you want me

to undress you. I really need to get you out of those clothes. Please, Steve?”

“You have to ask me that? Shall we try out the bed?”

“You’re getting tired. It’s been a long day and I’ve kept you on your feet for far too long. Now

that’s what I call a fine way to take care of my husband on our wedding night.” Daniël helps Steve

quickly to the bed, guilt written all over his face.

“It’s not bad to get a bit tired on such a perfect day, certainly not when I get to be naked in the

arms of the most sexy, generous, caring man who ever lived. And who will be, of course, also totally

without clothes.” Steve kisses Daniël’s cheek to reassure him.

“I should have paid better attention.”

Steve takes the boy’s face between his hands and looks at him intently. “We got married today.

We have a whole life ahead of us, if we’re lucky perhaps even half a century. We will both make more