Date: Sat, 24 Dec 2005 17:59:18 +0000 (GMT)
From: roy p...... <sunbeamtb@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: And He Scores!

A coming of age story which shares a boy's learning of same-
sex relationships with a man's understanding of letting the
past go. I hope you enjoy it, if you do and want more,
please let me know. Roy. sunbeamtb@yahoo.co.uk

                       And he Scores!

"And he scores!" 13 year-old Bryan shouted as he kicked the
football high into the air. He was fanatical about football,
and spent almost all his spare time in the garden kicking
one about, more often than not wearing his favourite team's
strip, the red shirt and white shorts of Manchester United.
His parents and younger brother were at the shopping centre,
but he would rather stay home and play his pretend part in a
cup final game, where over and over he would kick the
winning goal in the last seconds of the match.
It certainly was a cup final winning goal kick; the ball
soared high in the air, right over the apple tree and into
Mr. Hopkins' garden.
Oh no, not again! He'd have to go next door, apologise yet
again and hope that the ball hadn't damaged one of Mr.
Hopkins' rose trees this time. Wearily he trudged round to
the house next door and pressed the doorbell. "I'm sorry,
Mr. Hopkins, I've kicked my ball into your garden again."
Bryan said as the door opened.
"Again?" Fred Hopkins sighed. "You'd better come and get it
then, and we'll see what damage you've done."
Bryan followed him through the hall and kitchen, and out
into the garden.
The football sat at the base of one of the rose trees, which
luckily was still standing.
"You're lucky this time. Winning goal at the world cup, was
it?" Fred asked, relieved at the lack of damage. "Yeah,
something like that." Bryan said, still ashamed at what he'd
done. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hopkins."
"I'll forgive you when you're captain of the England squad
that wins the world cup!" The 50 year-old said pretend-
sternly, "and not before!"
The two smiled at each other. "I suppose David Beckham's
neighbours had to put up with the same thing!" Fred joked,
resting a hand on Bryan's shoulder.
Bryan's mind jumped to his hero. David Beckham. He adored
everything the man did, except perhaps marrying that awful
singer. Why get married when there's football to fill your
life? Bryan mentally pictured the photographs of a schoolboy
Beckham he had in a book about the player, and remembered
his wish to have been at school with him, to learn from, to
watch him play, to see him in the changing room as the hero
of all his classmates, to watch him shower-

"You look hot, Bryan. Would you like a glass of cold
lemonade? I've got some in the fridge!" Mr. Hopkins' words
snapped Bryan back to reality. They were in the kitchen, and
Mr. Hopkins was getting two glasses off the shelf.
"Oh-oh-yes, er-thanks!" Bryan said, and realising that his
thoughts had given him a visible tent in his shorts, held
the football in front of them.
Fred Hopkins poured the drinks and moved them to the kitchen
table.
Bryan had a problem now, he couldn't pick up the glass while
he was holding the ball, and he couldn't put down the ball
because-
"Let me have that!" Mr. Hopkins said, taking the ball from
Bryan's hands.
'Nooo!' thought Bryan, 'He'll see!'
Fred Hopkins saw, but just smiled at Bryan, put the ball on
the table and handed him the lemonade.
"I used to play, you know," Fred said, picking up the other
glass, "I was on the school team, then after I left school I
played for a Saturday league team in the park."
He saw a glimmer of interest in Bryan's eyes.
"Did you, Mr. Hopkins?"
"Its Fred, Bryan. Call me Fred."
"OK, Fred, were you really in the league
team?" "I've got some photos if you'd like to
see!"
Bryan smiled and nodded. He followed Fred
into the living room.
"Sit down, Bryan, I'll have to find them."
Fred said, waving an arm at the settee.
Bryan sat, and Fred opened a cupboard and
pulled out a cardboard box. After rummaging
through it, he came and sat by Bryan with a
couple of wallets of pictures.
Bryan finished the lemonade, put the glass
down, pulled out the photographs and looked
through them one by one, as Fred leaned over
him and told him who they were of and where
they were taken. The first ones were of the
school team, some taken lined up in the gym
or on the pitch, and some taken during games.
"That's me and Jimmy Carson. He was my best
friend at school!" Fred said as Bryan came to
a  picture of two boys in football gear, wide
grins on their faces, arms over each others'
shoulders. Bryan looked at Fred to compare
him now with him at about 15 in the
photograph. Fred wasn't unfit now, but then,
with his darker hair in a 'Beatles' fringe,
and in the short shorts and tight football
shirts of the period he looked - well, Bryan
didn't know what, but he felt the stiffening
in his shorts again.
Suddenly embarrassed, he put the photo to the
back of the bunch and for something to say,
came out with, "You two look very close!"
Fred's hand fell on Bryan's bare leg as he
said "We were. We did everything together.
Everything."
Bryan's head shot round as he felt the hand
slide up his leg, but Fred's eyes were
glazed, lost in a memory of long ago.

"W-who's this?" a red-faced and very hard
Bryan asked as the next photo was of a team
line-up.
Fred came back to today. "Oh, that's the
Saturday league team. There's me. That's
Billy, and Jack, and Jim, and another Fred,
and-er-I think his name was Jacob, or Jason
or something like that." The hand had gone
from Bryan's leg and was now indicating
players in the team photograph.
After several more photos taken from the
touchline of various games, there was another
one of the team, in the changing room. All
lined up, side by side, and all naked. "Oh, I
don't know how that came to be there!"
exclaimed Fred as he went to take it. Bryan
turned his hands away from Fred and quickly
studied the faces to find the younger Fred,
then down to check out something else. His
eyes zeroed in as it was hard to see, it was
smaller than the others - no! it was sticking
out, towards the camera! So were one or two
others!
"Just a bit of fun!" Fred gulped. "We'd just
won the league championship, and were a bit
excited-er-about winning!"
Bryan smiled at Fred, and noticed he now was
red-faced. He tucked the picture at the back
of the others, and the next one was another
of Jimmy Carson. As was the next, and the
next. In the first he was in school uniform,
in the second he was casually dressed in
faded jeans and a jumper, but in the third he
was in the school soccer strip that he'd been
wearing in the earlier picture of them both
together, except now he was holding a
noticeable bulge in the shorts, through the
first fingers and thumbs of both hands. Half
embarrassed, half excited, Bryan turned the
photograph over.
'Come and get it, Freddie!' was pencilled on
the back. Fred Hopkins sat back on the settee
with a thump from his back.
"I'm sorry, Bryan, I honestly didn't know
that was there." He said sadly.
Bryan turned the photo back over.
"I wish I had a friend like that at school."
He said quietly. "I bet you had a lot of fun
together."
Fred turned and looked quizzically at Bryan.
Bryan studied the picture intently, and
allowed the stretching in his shorts to
become fully erect. "Have you got any more
pictures of him?" he asked.
The lack of response caused Bryan to turn to
Fred. "Please? I'd like to see."

Silently Fred got up and crossed the room to
the cardboard box. He pulled several wallets
of photos out, then from the bottom of the
box lifted an album. He handed it to Bryan,
then sat down again, watching as Bryan opened
the album.
Various pictures of Jimmy filled the pages,
some posed, some not. Some he probably didn't
even know were being taken. On turning the
fifth page, three old Polaroid photos fell
out. Fred gasped. Two showed a naked Jimmy
with a fully hard erection posing in a boy's
bedroom. The third must have been taken on a
time delay setting as it showed both Jimmy
and the young Fred standing face to face in
the same bedroom, lips puckered and touching,
and with each others' cocks in their hands.
The hands were slightly blurred, so they must
have been moving when the picture was taken.
"Wheew!" whistled Bryan.
Fred sat back on the settee, staring at the
ceiling. Bryan put the Polaroids down and
went back to the album. In the first picture
on the next page the two boys were together
on a beach, wearing only swim trunks and
throwing a ball between each other.
"Where was this?" Bryan asked.
Fred leaned over, took the edge of the album
in his hand to turn it slightly towards
himself and looked.
"Mum and Dad took us both to the seaside."
He said. "We camped in tents for a week."
"Two tents?" asked Bryan. "Did you and he
share?"
"Yes." Said Fred wistfully, remembering.
Bryan tried to imagine.
"Did you do stuff - together?" Bryan asked.
Deep down perhaps he understood one boy's
infatuation for the other.
As Fred tried to decide how much to say,
Bryan took Fred's hand from the album edge
and placed it squarely in his own lap. Fred
gently squeezed the rod tenting Bryan's
shorts making Bryan sigh and shudder at the
same time. "Yes." Fred said quietly. "We did
a lot of stuff together."
"Show me, please!" Bryan panted, putting the
album down alongside him.
Fred looked at, then leaned towards Bryan,
who had closed his eyes in anticipation of
what was to come. The contact of lips sent
electric shocks through Bryan's body, making
his erection harder than it had ever been
before and making his balls almost painfully
tight.
Bryan was just aware of his shorts slipping
down his legs, he couldn't tell if he was
pushing them down, or
Fred, or both of them together.
He felt Fred's tongue pushing between his
lips and teeth, then wrapping around his own.
The hand on his cock pleasured him as his
never could, his whole body felt like a clock
spring so tightly wound it was about to snap
and burst out with all its energy.
New exciting sensations flowed through
Bryan's mind as they explored each others'
mouths and Fred's hand worked a magic far
beyond that of Harry Potter and all the
wizards of the world. For something new, it
felt so right, so wonderful, so - what he had
been born for.
The feeling of release started as a tickle
simultaneously in his balls and at the crown
of his cock, and turned into an unstoppable
tidal wave of ecstasy that swept over and
drowned Bryan in an urge so basic, so
primeval in its intensity that he shook and
quaked as his sperm jetted in thick cables
from his body. The muscle that clamped tight
inside him over and over again as it forced
his juice, his boy sprit, hard, fast and far
from him ached with a cramp that made him try
to scream into Fred's mouth. Eventually it
was over. Bryan sat, completely and utterly
exhausted and with wonderful new realisations
running wildly through his mind as Fred sat
up and away from him. "Was it like that?" he
asked. "With you and him? It's the most
utterly fantastic feeling I've ever known!"
"Yes." Fred said. "And better. When you love
somebody like I loved Jimmy, you do things
together and give yourselves to each other
like we did, and it just gets better every
time."
"What happened to him?" Bryan asked. If they
were like that why weren't they together now?
Fred sat back. "We drifted apart" he said.
"Eventually he said he didn't want to do
'that' any more and we saw less and less of
each other. He's married now, with three
children, so I suppose he wasn't - like I
am."
"Oh." Bryan said. There was nothing else he
could say. Except "I'm sorry."
"No, Bryan, it's me who should be sorry. I
should never have done that to you-"
"But I wanted you to!" Bryan said, squeezing
Fred's hand again. "I wanted to feel what you
and he had. And now I know how wonderful it
was."
"Thank you." Fred said. "I hope you find your
own Jimmy soon!"
"But-" Bryan started to speak, then thought
better of it. He stood up, pulled up his
shorts and said, "Sorry about the mess on
your carpet!"
"It'll dry." Fred smiled.
"I'd better go - Mum and Dad will be home
soon." Bryan said, although the last thing he
wanted to do was go. Fred stood, tucked the
Polaroids into the album and closed it.
"Can I come round again? I'd like to see the
rest of the photos!" Bryan said.
"Of course, just don't kill my roses with
your football first!" Fred joked.
They laughed as they went to the kitchen to
collect Bryan's football, then they walked to
the front door. Just before Fred opened it,
Bryan put an arm round Fred's waist and held
him close.
"Could you ever love me just a little bit
like you loved Jimmy?" he asked, looking up
with pleading eyes.
Fred looked down at Bryan, and realised that
to deny what he felt would be pointless.
"Yes, Bryan, I could." He said, and opened
the door.

Fred watched the young teen walk down the
path from his door and realised that it was
time to bury the past. He'd grieved too long
for a love that had died, now he could
nurture one that was growing for him.
Back in the living room, Fred picked up the
album and turned the pages. It didn't hurt
now to look at the pictures, they brought
back pleasant memories, not bitter feelings.
Tomorrow he would go and buy a new album.