If last night was a mistake, why do I want to do it all over again?
Maybe to remember what now seems to be a blur. Everything happened so damn fast. In one moment, we were lifting the cup as the champagne bottles popped around us, being celebrated by the thousands for winning the competition, and when I opened my eyes again, I was in his arms, naked.
He left two hours ago. The windows block the noisy street outside, and I dared not open them. The clouds are promising rain on the journalists outside - they look so small from the 25th floor. The heated floor keeps me naked, and as I stretch, all my body aches. There's a bruise on my thigh that hurts like a motherfucker.
The walls are covered in panels of white and grey fabric, all the way up to the white ceiling, from where an elaborate chandelier hangs.
Dimming the lights suits my just awake state, and maybe it will extinguish the start of a migraine. There's a small step from the room to the bathroom that makes me lose balance for a second and curse in a whisper. But then I notice the reason for having this grin on my face - his mouth is on my neck, his teeth on my chest, and my shoulders are bearing his nail trails, leaving a path of desire.
It really happened.
A gentle knock on the door makes me put my robe on, white on my tan skin, and a quick exchange of words with my coach. It's tempting to ask how Daniel is, but I think it's better not to.
"Pack your stuff, we should be leaving in about two hours." He pauses, looking around the room, "You haven't seen Daniel, have you?"
Coach Sam catch me by surprise.
"No, have no idea. Why?"
He raises his eyebrows, "he hasn't slept in his room, and you guys were so glued to one another yesterday that I thought you could know." He makes enough pauses to make me suspicious.
"No, Sir, haven't seen him." I'm not sure how well Daniel would react if I outed him. Better keep quiet.
Returning to my room, after assuring Coach Sam that I'd be going down soon to join the other players, I turn the TV on. Our victory is playing on repeat, and fuck, it's the second-best moment of my life. Laying back on the feather pillows and fluffy duvet, Daniel's face shows on the screen. His tempting lips on that chiseled face make my heart jump. Like a punch in the stomach, I miss him already. My fingers text him quickly as his words echo in the hotel room.
Just as I open up the robe to give some space to my growing erection, Daniel is interrupted by the journalist asking a stupid ass question. "Daniel, there have been rumors about your sexuality..." but she doesn't finish the question. Then, like a light walking me through a dark tunnel, I remember - I was there, in that same greenfield, as my eyes linger on his impeccable muscular thighs, firm butt, and menacing chest, helmet still on his arm. Finally, the journalist's voice reached my ears, and there was no time to lose - he had to be rescued, not before a big game, no fucking way.
His sweet green eyes thanked me for saving him, and in the interview, the journalist was stammering her words as the camera focused on our faces - gosh, he is so beautiful compared to me - "leave him alone," my voice came hoarse, so different than what it sounds to me.
The way I pulled him by his arm at first just to place my arm around his back, holding him close to me. What the cameras didn't pick up was what I told Daniel.
"Don't listen to them, mate, focus on the game."
He was so warm and so sweet, I just wanted to kiss him there.
"Thank you, Joe," he said as his arm went around my back. He was taller and broader than me, but what I lacked in those two, I gained in strength and masculinity. Little did I know six months ago that I'd had such a big crush on this guy.
We entered the locker room. The tension was at its highest, and Coach Sam delivered a speech. My heart was racing, and Daniel was just at my side. We circled around the coach as he talked, arms across hard and muscular shoulders and necks, our hearts beating as one. Daniel's fingers were digging deeper into my flesh, and his scent was vivid, I could tell him apart from the others. I cocked my head to look into those deep green eyes so close to me. He mouthed, "thank you," making me reply with a "not a problem, mate."
And from minute one to finish, we helped one another, playing so cohesively that the crowd would go mad every time one of us got the ball. His big muscles running ahead of me made my heart jump madly. After racing down toward the line, I offer the definite goal to him, making a pass, and he scored at the finish second. His big eyes were lingering on my body as a mouthwatering smile reached the deepest corners of my soul. And, as he scored, the only thing I could do was run to him, to his open arms, as the whistle cut deep through the cheer of the maddening audience.
"We did it!" I screamed as he grabbed me in his open arms, falling behind onto the grass carpet.
For a moment, all time stopped. Our eyes locked together as my body remained on top of him. The other players were rushing to be with us, but we were alone at that second. There was no one else, and I could read in his eyes how he wanted me back. Could it be real? The most wanted man in the whole city, could he be really into me?
"We fucking did it!" Daniel screamed, pulling me in for a tight hug.
And the avalanche of big men came straight after, the sweat and testosterone making me dizzy, his body just for myself. But, despite all the noise, his voice came through crystal clear, "I scored that goal for you, Joe."
From there to the locker rooms is another blur. The scent of grass mixed with sweat is still ingrained in my brain. The news report shows Daniel and I holding the cup, then cuts to the locker rooms.
The energy was palpable. A bunch of muscular men were jumping and chanting the club's anthem. Our coach was in the middle. A news reporter was pointing a microphone to my face as I tried to answer what made me be chosen best player of the match, but my eyes were clearly looking at someone else. I was looking at him, his naked frame, only with his briefs on. As I closed my eyes again, we were all jumping together to the camera, champagne was popping all around us, and my body was thoroughly wet. Daniel's eyes were fixated on my hairy chest, and it was looking at him that I let my shorts fall to the floor. I didn't care about the dozens of men around us; I only had eyes for him.
The showers were running, hot water creating a mist. I got closer to him, hand around his waist, he didn't seem to mind.
"You were amazing," I told him, wanting to see those red lips.
"Joe, we wouldn't have won if not for you."
"You scored that last goal, dude."
His face was sweet, and all I wanted to do was to grab him closer to me. Was anyone watching us?
He looked around, eyes on the camera, and took a couple of steps back, pulling me with him. Unconsciously, an erection was growing, and Daniel had noticed it. The showers were just a step away, and my eyes lingered on his body.
"You let me have it," he murmured as he bit his lip.
His briefs were sporting an aching erection, and he walked back, pulling me to one of the shower stalls. Closing the door behind me, I had him just for myself. The white-tiled walls around us, the hot shower running, and the outside noise hid us. It was with a smile that I let my briefs fall down my legs.
"It's ok, Daniel," I whispered, grabbing my cock at its base.
With his eyes on the prize, Daniel drops onto his knees - shining big eyes, a semi-open mouth, and an extended hand.
