premiership-lads-74

Girlfriend

Subject: Premiership Lads part 74: Two MEtres Apart Part seventy-four: Two Metres Apart Luke Shaw lay there staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, his girlfriend’s arm slung across his bare chest, asleep but stroking the little huddle of pale hairs between his pecs as she dreamed. He looked at her, the mother of his child, and felt sick with two-way guilt. Then his phone, somewhere across the room, began to chime faintly from within a huddle of shed clothing. He had been waiting for the call for hours now, but it still struck him with nervous dread. As gently as he could, the stocky 24-year-old footballer disentangled himself from the girl in the bed and slid out onto his feet, padding over the carpet in just a pair of baggy checked boxer shorts. He dug his phone out of a tangled hoody, held a couple of fingers over the speaker to dull the ringtone, and stared without surprise at Harry’s name flashing on the screen. He disappeared from the bedroom, creeping past the adjoining nursey, and out onto a narrow balcony at the far end of the corridor, overhanging the rectangle of their new garden together. Shutting the French windows behind him, he leant on the railings, and answered. `Harry,’ he sighed down the line. `What the fuck?’ Maguire demanded simply, his voice aggressive but quiet. Luke quivered at the masculine force of that voice, and gripped his free hand about the black metal railing beside him as he braced himself for a fuller rant that didn’t come, just frosty nocturnal silence. `Look, we need to talk about this properly,’ he said in a calm voice he had been preparing all night. `Please.’ `Let’s talk about it,’ snarled Harry. `I feel like a fuckin’ mug now, mate.’ `Baby…’ `Don’t you baby me,’ muttered Maguire, accidentally raising and then sharply lowering his voice. `Please,’ Luke said, `don’t get… aggressive about this. Can we talk properly? Look � not like this, not snapping at each other over the phone…’ He could hear the other man’s rough breaths, barely controlled fury and emotion. `This isn’t as mad as it seems. Yeh, b- mate, I’m a dad now, it sorta happened, I just…’ `Luke,’ Harry said, his voice breaking a little with upset, `it ain’t summat that just HAPPENS…’ Luke bit his tongue guiltily and closed his eyes. `Meet me tomorrow,’ he said. `It’s a fuckin’ lockdown, in case you hadn’t noticed, daddy cool.’ `Somewhere halfway,’ Shaw said quickly. `The Pennines or something. Somewhere off the M62. I can’t have this conversation over the phone, Harry. Please.’ He listened to the long silence that followed, and looked out into his own garden, still alien to him after finally leaving the city centre apartment last month. When there was no answer, he continued, `I think you owe me that, Harry. I really do.’ Harry sounded riled by this comment, but he agreed. `Early. It’ll have to be early. I can be there by � I dunno � 9am?’ `Whatever time you need,’ Luke promised. `See you then.’ There was more silence, wild with unsaid accusations or exclamaitons. He waited for Harry to end the call first, then lowered the phone in both hands, and realised how cold his near-naked body was out here on the balcony, though the heat of the conversation had blocked any knowledge of it. He hugged the phone to him, tried his best to relax, and returned indoors. Harry Maguire barely slept. In between snatches of it, he eyed a clock on the wall over the bed, and just as first light crept in between the floral curtains, he got up. He couldn’t risk waiting longer; at least one of the little kids was bound to wake soon and bring domestic reality into the shared Maguire mansion. As stealthily as he could, he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and yesterday’s tracksuit bottoms, then a vest and a thick fleece. He cast a guilty look at her in the bed, innocently oblivious to the rat she was engaged to, and he felt sickened by his own hypocrisy. He went downstairs, trying to take the old steps lightly despite his muscly weight, and hesitated in the lounge. He glanced at the sofas and thought, for a moment, about last night. His casual near-nakedness in his robe, the enticing glimpse he’d accidentally � was it an accident?- offered Laurence, and what had gone on afterwards. The word `incest’ came to like a jab in the ribs and he blinked his dry, tired eyes to push it away. He was about to fuck off out onto the driveway and to his car, still working out the cover story in his head, but then he realised he was being watched. Clearly Harry wasn’t the only one who’d felt sleepless and awkward last night. Halfway down the curving staircase into the big living room stood Laurence, just in a pair of pale blue boxer briefs that hugged his thick waist and sagged a little around his obvious bulge. There was a troubled, suspicious expression on the square-jawed likeness of his face as he leant on the bannister and watched Harry shift from foot to foot. `Where are you going?’ Loz asked in a murmur. `I need to go somewhere,’ Harry said, not intending to sound quite so mysterious. `Right, not fuckin’ vague at all,’ the younger Maguire lad grunted, descending a couple of steps. Harry didn’t have time to argue or even to explain (explain?! How the hell could he explain?) but he knew he couldn’t afford to just rush off now. He stepped up to the bottom of the stairs and watched his brother make his way further down the staircase until they were close. He took a deep breath and looked earnestly at the other guy. `I can’t tell you why, I just need to see someone kinda urgently,’ he said plainly. `Is everything okay?’ Loz asked in worry. `Everything is… fine.’ The lie sounded less convincing out loud than in his head. `It’s nothing to bother anyone here, promise ya. Look � just � Loz, can you cover for me? When everyone else gets up? Please. I just need to go.’ Laurence stared suspiciously at him, and presumably mersin escort thought the same thing that Harry did then: how could either lad not hold the other’s secrets now, after last night in the laundry cupboard? Harry was in no mind to threaten or blackmail, certainly fucking not, but he felt he had enough reason to hope and trust. After a moment, the younger lad nodded his head and shot him a darkly suspicious glare. `You know I’ve got your back, big lad.’ `Just say I had to go out to get something, I don’t know what…’ `Just go,’ Loz urged in a gentler voice. `I’ll make summat up and text ya. Go do what you need to do.’ Harry gave him a look of pure gratitude, and took a step up, and threw a strong arm about those bare broad shoulders to hug him just as he had last night in the kitchen. He didn’t say a thank you, because he knew he couldn’t get the words right, and he couldn’t risk even beginning to explain the mess he was in. He left it at the hug, and turned his back on Loz, and disappeared down the hallway and out onto the driveway. Worried about prying eyes from windows above, he disappeared into his big family car at the end of the drive, and got out onto the grey sunrise of the country road. At some point between leaving the village on the edge of Sheffield and hitting the motorway, Luke pinged him a location via messenger: some picnic spot just off the M62, halfway over the Pennines to Manchester. His terse response of `ok’ was all he could thumb in while he drove, and he knew he wasn’t the most articulate man at the best of times. The drive itself was fine: watching the warm day rise over the hilly countryside was distracting enough, and he always found concentrating on the road enough to silence the mess of voices in his head. But as he drew closer to their agreed meeting point, much earlier than planned, his anxiety rose. Harry cursed Luke and he cursed himself. He felt like his life had been a linear adventure of quiet confidence and affable victories until this fucking chapter of secrecy and self-doubt. About twenty minutes from the destination on his SatNav, he thought about turning the car round and disappearing back down the motorway towards Sheffield and towards his parents’ home. Amongst the worries that hit him as he turned off the M62 and down a quieter country road up the rolling hillsides was the risk of being stopped by the police and having to explain his journey; it wasn’t beyond imagination, in this climate. But he felt like he’d barely seen another vehicle in the whole journey, and the carp park when he reached it was almost entirely deserted. A single vehicle was parked at the far side of it, and because Luke rarely drove, it took him a minute to recognise the little car. Fuck. He’d kinda assumed he’d have a bit of time to clear his head here whilst waiting for the other driver, since it was barely quarter past 8 now. Clearly both men had escaped the family homes at the crack of dawn for this mad drive across Northern England. Harry pulled in three spaces parallel to the other car, and didn’t initially risk looking out of the window. He rested his hands on the wheel, took a few deep breaths, and tried to control his anger, or at least rationalise it. But the anger of yesterday afternoon or of the small hours of this morning felt damp and pathetic. What did he actually feel right now? Heartbroken, that’s what. He stared into his own eyes in the rear-view mirror, surprised by his own depth of feeling. When finally he looked through the window, Luke had got out of his car and was standing against the side of it, wrapped up in a puffed overcoat against the early morning cool, hands dug into pocket, a baseball cap pulled over his head. Harry turned off the engine and took his time undoing his belt, delaying the confrontation. But then there was nothing left to do but unlock the door and step out into the cool blast of wind up here in the Pennines. Luke gave him a silent nod across the parking spaces. `I’m looking forward to this explanation.’ His voice sounded mean and sarcastic and he cursed himself for that; it wasn’t how he felt, what he wanted to say. It seemed to sting Luke, who looked wracked with guilt. `Harry, how was I really meant to tell you about this?’ he started. `I can think of plenty of ways.’ Again, surly. `Are we really going to stand like this and…?’ `Social fuckin’ distancing. I’m living with pretty much my whole family, Luke. I ain’t fucking risking their health to make YOU feel better.’ He folded his arms and leant against the side of his bigger vehicle, scowling. `Come on then, tell me what you need to tell me.’ So Luke did. He talked to Harry, who listened through a stiff mask of indifference, about the casual girlfriend early last year, how things had ticked along with her until they drifted apart a little. Luke explained the surprise of finding out she was pregnant, speculated on whether this had been what pushed his experimental mood back in November when he’d first made his late-night approach to Harry in a Dutch hotel room playing away. Several times Harry just interjected with grunts or scoffs or blunt questions; as the story went on, he became quiet and awkward, and didn’t know what to say at all. Luke admitted his confusion over what to do as the pregnancy wound on and meet-ups to check how the mum-to-be was doing became more romantic dates, and then the beginnings of a rekindled relationship. `Your son was born and you didn’t feel you could tell me?’ Harry demanded in a narrative gap. `At the time, Harry, I spent as much time thinking you were gonna beat me up as demand a fucking blowjob,’ Luke returned, and it was clear his guilty apology was laced with resentment and his own accusations. He gave a steely look until both men glanced away and shuffled against their motors, stalemate. `So you’re with her.’ `Yes. escort mersin Kinda. I think so.’ `You don’t seem sure of much!’ `Coming from YOU, Harry?’ Silence again, stalemate continued. `But Luke,’ groaned Maguire honestly, `I thought…’ He looked about the empty car park as if expecting paparazzi and United fans to emerge from every damp corner of the undergrowth that surrounded it. `I thought you and I…’ He let it hang there, unfinished as always, and realised even as he said it how much he had assumed and expected from the younger guy. `You thought what?’ Luke said quietly, and he took a dangerous step over the space between them. `You thought you got to lead two lives and I was just waiting around at your beck and call, Harry? Is that what you thought?!’ He shook a hand angrily as he spoke. `I’m sorry that my life moved along without you, alright? But… this just sorta happened, it wasn’t in my plans.’ `But you’re going along with it.’ `What else do I do?’ Luke asked wildly. `What do you expect me to do? Turn my back on them both and act like nothing is different? I’m selling the flat. I should have told you sooner. I’ve moved in with them, I want to…’ `Be a family.’ Luke nodded. `This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,’ he said more softly. `It wasn’t just you I hid it from. I told nobody at Old Trafford. Nobody. I just needed to work it out on my own first. It’s been… tough…’ `I suppose you want my fuckin’ sympathy,’ snapped Harry crossly, but ironically, that was just what he felt. He stared across the bleak space at this handsome young guy who he’d become so close to, and that WAS what he felt: not anger so much, well a little bit of it, but mostly a realisation of what the other bloke had been carrying with him in the last few months especially. He thought back on the earlier patches of their `relationship’ and imagined himself trying to be a supportive friend to this developing situation. Luke was right. He’d have been shit about it then, too. Shaw backed off towards his vehicle. `I’m not after anything from anyone,’ he said proudly. `I’m trying to sort my own life out and be a good guy. That’s all. I’m so sorry that you found out online � I’m always so private, I thought I could… I dunno, control this. She thinks otherwise.’ They both coughed out little bitter laughs at that. `What does this mean for us?’ Harry asked in an uncharacteristically little voice. He saw that his quiet, emotive question sparked some surprise and fondness in Luke, who stared out from beneath the brim of his cap and struggled for words. They both stared eye to eye for several long moments, uncomfortable and held back by the invisible divide of safe social distancing. `What even IS us?’ Luke asked, and it wasn’t angry or accusing, just generally lost. `Neither of us know what’s going on here.’ `We were having a good time,’ Harry said dumbly. This time he took a step away from the car, shortening the gap between them to two metres before stopping again, arms hanging at his side, wanting to reach out. `I know that sounds shit, but we WERE… weren’t we? Are you gonna choose some little family life over…’ `Harry, you do that every fucking day!’ Luke said in a pleading tone. Harry stopped and groaned at the blunt reality of it. `I can’t leave her. I love her,’ he said, and he saw how much that truth hurt Luke, but honesty seemed to be all they had this morning. `I can’t destroy what I have there.’ He could see Luke’s pain and he could see the parallel. `And neither can you, huh? I guess we’re even.’ `Even?’ Shaw asked sadly. `So that’s what we are? This isn’t a fucking cup tie, Harry.’ `I know it’s not!’ `Then talk to me like a human. Tell me how you feel. Stop standing there like a big angry fucking giant and be real with me. Am I just some dumb mug who gave you a handjob when you were bored, or are we something more? What do I mean to you?!’ Harry made to lunge forward, but he stopped himself; Luke seemed to instinctively lean forward too, then pull back away. They looked at each other and knew two things without saying them: there was far more between them than a few sweaty trysts, and neither man would risk his family right now in a time of pandemic. They stood there, two metres apart, and let out long matching sighs. Harry’s eyes flitted from Luke to the scenery that sprawled about them, the damp tarmac beneath their feet, slowly lighting up with the rising morning sun. As the shadows crept away over the car park, the light seemed to catch a jagged break in the horizon on the far side. A wooden hut sat by the car park, squat and dark: a public toilet. `Luke,’ he said in a low growl, `come in there with me.’ Luke seemed momentarily confused, stared at him, then followed his stony gaze. He laughed. `Are you actually kidding, man? Are you for real?’ Harry nodded towards it, unzipped the front of his fleece. `It’s better than nowt,’ he said. He marched off, and Luke followed a few paces behind, across the deserted tarmac, towards the hut. Doors on either side were marked with little stick figures of gender. Harry tested the door to the men’s half, pleased to find it unlocked, and in he went. It was cleaner than he might have expected, and smelt of cleaning products rather than anything else. Inside, he crossed to the far end of a limited space, and looked back at Luke as the door fell shut again. `So romantic,’ Shaw said, but playful rather than accusing. `What are we doing?’ `These urinals are about two metres apart,’ Harry said, turning to the wall. One side of the toilet space was lined by five porcelain urinals, and the safe distance was maintained between them as he faced up to the far one. He saw Luke hesitate, sceptical, but then approach the furthest space in the same way, both men reaching for the waist of their tracksuit bottoms. Harry felt the silliness of mersin escort bayan it, an encounter from a different world, but also the surreal intimacy of it in a situation where nothing more could be done. He undid the little cord at the waist of his trackies and pushed them down halfway over his thighs, then reached into the front of his black boxer briefs, and pulled out his big soft dick, unwashed in his palm. He looked down the line of empty urinals and Luke did the same, his similarly girthy sausage held in one hand and gently rubbed as they locked eyes. `I’ve missed that thing,’ Luke commented. `It’s missed you more.’ `You ARE a romantic…’ `Oh shut up, you fuckin’ DILF.’ Shy sniggers from both of them, their dicks coming to attention. Harry turned to an angle to give Luke a better view, displaying his big tool as it rose up in his hand, pulling back on it and really squeezing it. He enjoyed the hungry look on Luke’s face, the reciprocal fumbling of the other lad’s nob, and he found himself looking at it lustily too, thinking of his energetic attempts to suck on it of late, initially so frightened of returning that favour. That dickhead Depay had made him nervous about returning OTHER favours too, of course, but he was putting that aside… surely Luke never expected HIM to be bottom! `You’ve probably been fucking her, have you?’ Harry asked then, a spark of that burning jealousy rising up in him despite the truce they’d reached. Luke pulled on his stiffy and let out a thin groan. `A bit � you’ve been keeping yourself celibate for me then, have you?’ Harry answered that with a wordless grunt, knowing his expectations were unfair. He pulled on his dick and lifted it a bit, again really showing it off for the other guy. He turned more fully and rested his back against the angled wall so he was really on show to Luke as he dragged back and forth on the whopper beneath the hem of his vest, balls rising and drooping with each stroke. `Don’t worry,’ Luke sighed, `she has nothing on you.’ `Well she doesn’t have one of these, bless her,’ Harry said, shaking his member. `No, definitely not. Fuck Harry. I wanna suck it so bad.’ `Soon,’ Harry promised. `We don’t know that,’ Luke pointed out. `As soon as we’re allowed.’ `God. I’ll be counting the days, Harry.’ `I’m gonna fuck you so hard to make up for the weeks apart,’ Maguire promised. He pulled more quickly on his nob now and with his other hand partly lifted his vest, exposing a few long abs on his pulsating front as he pleasured himself as best he could. Luke too was leaning back against the walls that encircled these loos, pumping eagerly on his own smaller but impressive nob, cupping the fat bollocks beneath as he went for it, letting out little pants and groans as if they were really making contact here and not just wanking into nothingness. `Is that a promise?’ he moaned. `Yes,’ Harry said urgently. `When this is all over… I’m gonna take you away Luke. Somewhere where it’s just us two. Away from the women, away from the kids.’ `Mmm, yes, mmm…’ `Somewhere where you’re just MINE,’ Harry grunted, close to cumming. `Somewhere we can be really together,’ added Luke, and there was a sad wistfulness to his impassioned moan. Harry came then, and he forced his eyes open as he did, watching their almost synchronised explosion of excitement. Spunk burst from his dick as a rush of pleasure spread through his lengthy body, and Luke blew his load seconds later. Harry saw, with a tingle of enjoyment and amusement, a few specks of his seed fleck the front of Luke’s coat and the tshirt beneath and then, to his shock, he saw that this worked both ways. Despite the two metres between them, their passionate climaxes has found enough reach: a couple of drops of the white stuff had hit the front of his black vest, cooling and dribbling on the fabric. The two men rested for a long moment against the opposite walls, chests heaving, then bursting out in boyish laughter. Harry slowly pushed his dick into his pants, surprised by the force of his erection and orgasm after cumming in the middle of the night, but glad to have released yet again. He turned to one end of the long trough sink and washed his hands with the slow exaggerated thoroughness that these times required, and then took a hand towel and dabbed away the spots of cum from his tummy. He met Luke’s eyes in the long, dirty mirror, and they both laughed again. The seedy ridiculousness of the moment sank in and they left the toilets one at a time, still laughing loudly at themselves and what they’d done to feel connected. Two metres apart, they drifted over the car park, still empty. It wasn’t yet 9am. They walked parallel, fleeting glances at each other in turns, and approached their separate vehicles. Luke spoke first, breaking the silence beneath the howl of the wind. He leant on his car door. `Did you mean what you said in there?’ he asked gently. `About us going away together?’ Harry watched him fumble bashfully with the door handle. `If it’s possible,’ he said uncertainly. `I’m sure we can figure summat out.’ `I’m sure we can.’ Another quiet question from Luke. `Are we going to keep this up? These double lives?’ Harry took a while to answer. `Fuck it,’ he grunted. `I don’t know what we’re doing, babe, but I can’t fucking see how I can cope without you.’ The passion and honesty of it shocked him and he saw Luke’s eyes widen at this profession of his need. `I mean that,’ he added giddily. `If we ain’t got each other, then…’ `Then we’ll keep it up,’ Luke said firmly. `We’ll make it… work.’ Harry nodded slowly, fiddled with his car keys. One last thought to be shared. `Same time next week?’ he asked, and looked about this ridiculous spot. `It’s…’ He reused his ridiculous phrasing from before. `It’s better than nowt, ain’t it?’ Luke just laughed, coy and affectionate. `It sure is.’ Two metres apart, they smiled their goodbyes and got back into the cars. For a few minutes, neither started up the engine, but then the private worlds waiting for them seemed to loom up in Harry’s mind, and he turned the key. Homeward bound.

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