Date: Sun, 20 Apr 2008 08:01:50 +0200
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: The Most Difficult Contest 04/12 (athletics)

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THE MOST DIFFICULT CONTEST
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008
written on December 2, 1993
translated by the author
English text kindly revised by Acam

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"THE MOST DIFFICULT CONTEST" is a gay story, with some parts containing
graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion,
family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better
not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't
care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my
welcomed guest.

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CHAPTER 4 - A revelation

Back in Paris, Jean Paul and Claude went on meeting. After training,
instead of taking his friend straight home as he used to do, Claude used
to take him to his own house, and there they withdrew into a small room
under the eaves of the mansion where, every other day, they made love.
They soon got used to doing that.

Normally at that time of the day only the service staff were at home and
the two friends went up there unseen and quietly so they could have sex
at their ease. The small room had been built in a part of the attic that
in Claude's grandfather's time had been reserved for servants. His
father had reorganised the servants' quarters when there were fewer of
them, onto the third floor, so that now the small rooms in the attic
were used for storage of old family things. But in that little room
there was still an old tall wooden bed with a mattress on which Claude
had spread a sheet in order not to become dirty with the dust.

To be safer even though nobody usually went up there the two friends
locked themselves in shutting the door with the key. Like the other
rooms, that one had a dormer-window. As the weather was now fine and hot
they always opened it. Thus the two boys, while they were making love on
the wide bed that was just under the window could also enjoy the view of
the roofs of downtown Paris - and often a gentle breeze caressed their
bodies so that they almost had the feeling of doing it in the open air.

Sometimes as they were going down the service stairway they could hear
Claude's two younger brothers who had come back home meanwhile. Nobody
ever saw them using the narrow stairway that connected the attic rooms
with the kitchens and the garden. They went on meeting in secret like
that almost up to the day when they had to leave for the championships.

But one afternoon Claude's father instead of going to the family bank as
he used to do every working day, had decided to stay home in his study
to sort out some family documents and papers. In fact it would soon be
the centenary of the foundation of the Berthier Bank, and Jacques
Berthier, Claude's father, had in mind to publish a commemorative book.
He had already gathered a good deal of material - pictures, documents,
letters and so on when late that afternoon he remembered that in the
attics there should be a big box with more documents and souvenirs
regarding the bank. And so he went upstairs to look for that box.

He found it in the room just next to the room with the bed. He went in
opened the dormer-window to improve the light and dispel the smell of
dust and quietly started to check the contents - the pictures and the
souvenirs one by one putting aside those that could be useful for the
book he had in mind. He was doing this selection when he heard two
voices. He recognized Claude and was about to reveal himself and call
him when something stopped him and made him curious - the two were
talking in whispers. So he stayed quiet trying to understand what was
going on and who the other voice could be.

He couldn't understand what they were saying because they were speaking
too quietly. What the hell was his son up to? Why had he taken somebody
up there? He then heard them going into the next room and locking the
door with the key. This aroused his suspicions. He thought for a moment
and then a worry flashed into his mind - if he was acting so furtively
his Claude... had to be taking drugs! Sometimes athletes resorted to
drugs in the hope of better performance. At first he thought he would go
into the corridor and knock at the door, but then he thought that Claude
might have time to hide the drugs as soon as he heard him and then deny
everything. No...

From the open window came the noise of a low laughter. Yes he could
possibly catch him by using the window... the eaves were wide enough. He
could easily climb through and go along the eaves ... In spite of his
salt and pepper hair he was still a nimble man in good shape.

Without making any noise, Jacques Berthier climbed out of the
dormer-window onto the eaves and cautiously moved until he was in front
of the window of the other room peeped inside and... he saw the two
naked bodies, lying on the old bed, enlaced in a sixty-nine!

Jean Paul was the first to see the man and, hurriedly parting from his
companion moaned a choked, "Oh my god!"

Claude stupefied by his friend's distressed tone let go of his prick and
seeing his father standing just out of the window went pale and murmured
"Dad!"...

The man said "Oh, Claude I didn't think..." and disappeared.

The two young men were embarrassed and scared.

"Your Dad? Now what?" asked Jean Paul in a whisper as white as death.

"Let's get dressed..." Claude was trembling.

They heard the man's steps in the corridor going towards the stairway.

"What can we do, now?" Jean Paul asked worriedly.

"I'll take you home and then... then I'll face my Dad..."

"No it might be better if I go by myself. I can take the underground..."

"No, no, I'll take you back home... so I'll have the time to think about
what to tell him."

"What can you tell him? He clearly saw what we were doing. My god! If he
tells Robert we both are done... both of us... and just at the eve of
the championship..."

"I might be able to persuade him to tell nobody..."

"But if he's waiting for us on the stairway?"

"I don't think so. If he wanted to confront both of us together he would
just be outside the door. I bet he went to his study. But why was he at
home?"

"Could he have suspected something?"

"No way, and how? Well, let's go downstairs now. I'll see you home."

"Will you call me later?"

"If I can..."

"Tomorrow morning... I don't know whether to show up at training."

"I don't know either. I'll try to call you this evening if I can."

They went down in silence and met nobody. They got to the street, to
Claude's car without problems. All along the way they discussed what
they had to do. The only hope they had was that Claude's father didn't
report them to their coach.

"He could chase you from your house..." Jean Paul said.

"If he did that... I would find way of carrying on." Claude answered.

"Go on? Go on with what?"

"To do athletics. But I don't know. Dad is friends with Robert and he
might tell him... I only hope he will agree to tell him after the
championship."

"It would be better than nothing..." Jean Paul admitted dejectedly.

Claude left his friend in front of his lodgings and went back at once.
He put the car in the garage and went upstairs to his father's study. He
took a deep breath then knocked at the door.

"Come in!" his father's voice said from inside.

Claude opened the door a bit and peeped inside, "It's me, Dad... Can I
come in?"

"Yes, of course. I have been waiting for you for some time."

"I took... my friend home, Dad."

"I see. Take a seat."

"Dad, I... I don't know what to say..." Claude murmured lowering his
eyes in confusion, and feeling he didn't have the strength to tackle the
subject.

"Who was that boy with you? Wasn't he Jean Paul?"

"Yes, Dad that's who it was."

"How long have you been doing... that?"

"Since the spring camp. It was my Idea and ... I convinced him. It's not
his fault, Dad."

"Very noble on your side to protect him. But neither of you is a child
any more. I presume he is consenting at least as much as you are isn't
he?"

"Well... yes, Dad..."

The fact that Claude unconsciously inserted the word "Dad" in each of
his sentences was almost a way to affirm that in spite of everything,
they still were a father and a son, bound by reciprocal love...

"Well. They are things that happen son." the man said with a sigh but
with a serene expression.

Claude raised his eyes and looked at his father, astounded.

For the first time the man smiled "Of course, Claude, they are things
that happen. You see I have been through the same experiences... two
boys become close friends, they share everything... and they end by
sharing some sexual games too."

"You mean that... that you don't condemn me Dad?" Claude asked in a
hesitant tone.

"Condemn you? Not at all; how could I?"

"You, Dad... aren't you upset with me because you discovered I'm gay?"

"Gay? No, my son. Just mutually enjoying pleasure between two friends
even two close friends doesn't mean you are gay at all. It may just be
an interlude which is destined to end as simply as it began."

"I'm afraid it is not so Dad. I... I like doing it."

"Of course you enjoy it or else you wouldn't do it. But you will see
sooner or later you will meet a girl that will make you change your
mind. Exactly as it happened to me." the man quietly said.

Claude widened his eyes even more, "To you, Dad? You means that you
too..."

"Yes Claude. Robert and I - me and your coach. Exactly like you and Jean
Paul. And you see that both Robert and I are now happily married and
have beautiful families. Neither he nor I is gay. So don't put weird
thoughts into your head and don't worry. Sooner or later you will stop.
It is natural, don't worry."

"You really mean that... that you and Robert... were lovers?"

"No, not lovers. We just were amusing ourselves with each other and that
way we were lessening our sexual tensions in friendship. Very close
friends - not lovers. If I had guessed it was only that that you were
doing I would not have disturbed you..."

"Just that? Why, what else did you think we were doing?"

"I was afraid you were... doing drugs."

"Doping? Heaven forbid! I don't want to harm myself!"

"You know I was afraid it was a burden for you not be first any more -
no longer the best in the team, and that in order to improve your
performance... Unhappily these things happened and still happen."

"Surely not I Dad."

"Well that is what is important."

"Dad... you won't report us to Robert then... about Jean Paul and I?"

"Of course not; why should I? It's something that is nobody's business
but yours."

"And... may I meet again with Jean Paul?"

"Of course! But remember - no more than twice per week! This is the
golden rule. I presume that Robert told you so didn't he?" Jacques said
with a smile.

Claude smiled and nodded "Dad thank you... We got so scared..."

"Just be careful not to let the others realise what's going on; be very
discreet. Even though everybody knows very well that this sort of thing
happens... the sports milieu is rather odd - almost anomalous. Unhappily
there is a lot of hypocrisy in this world and much more in the sports
world."

"Dad I have to call Jean Paul to reassure him."

"Was he scared?"

"Even more than I was Dad. He was afraid he could be expelled from the
team before the championship."

"Is he good enough to win some medals?"

"Oh, yes! Robert says that ninety-nine per cent the gold will be his."

"Good, then tell him to do his best. And you two... don't overdo it!"
Jacques said giving the hand to his son and vigorously shaking it.

"Thank you Dad."

"Anyway using the attic is a good idea." his father told him, winking
his eye while Claude was standing up to leave.

Claude immediately went to his room, picked up the telephone and called
Jean Paul.

The boy at once answered "Claude! Well then?"

"It's all alright. No dangers!"

"Really? What did he say?"

"I'll tell you when we meet. Anyway he will tell nobody not even Robert
and he's not upset with us."

"He's not upset?"

"Not at all. Therefore you can sleep without worries tonight. Tomorrow
morning I'll come to fetch you earlier, so I can tell you everything.
And I have to give you a bit of news that I'm sure will give you great
pleasure."

"Pleasure? What about?"

"Tomorrow, I'll tell you tomorrow morning, my friend."

"I can't imagine..."

"No you couldn't possibly guess. See you tomorrow Jean Paul."

"See you tomorrow. Thank you for calling me. I got such a terrible
headache and stomach-ache..."

"Make them pass my friend! And tomorrow... I'll tell you all the rest.
Have a good night."

"Good night."

Jean Paul went back to his room feeling relieved and threw himself on
the bed trying to relax. Well then Claude's father was not upset with
them and would tell nobody! He evidently was a really open-minded,
modern person. In spite of that when you looked at him he really gave
the impression of being a conservative middle-class man... At times one
can be totally wrong in judging people. For sure when he saw the man at
the window while he had his son's prick in his mouth he felt like dying
- it had been the most horrible moment of his whole life!

He gradually relaxed and when he was called to supper he went to eat
feeling rather calmed down. He asked himself what could be the surprise
that Claude had hinted at and that he would not even be able to guess...

He thought again about that also when he went to bed but in spite of all
his efforts he couldn't think of anything possible - certainly not
anything likely that could give him "great pleasure" as Claude had told
him.

The following morning he went out to the street to wait for his friend.
In a few minutes he saw his car. He got in. Claude was smiling and
relaxed.

"Well then?" Jean Paul asked him while he was restarting the car.

"Dad apologised for having interrupted us."

"Apologised? Are you joking?"

"No not at all. He said that if he had guessed that you and I were just
making love he would not have disturbed us."

"Come on!"

"He said it's just normal that two friends relieve each other and
particularly two athletes. And that between athletes who are close
friends it always happened."

"He said so?"

"Sure. And he added that in his time he did it too."

"He confessed that?"

"Very quietly... And guess who was the friend with whom he was doing
it?"

"Who?"

"Your beautiful Robert!"

Jean Paul was agape, "You mean that... that your Dad and Robert... that
they made love together? Exactly as we are doing? I now understand why
five years ago Robert tried to defend that athlete... So Robert is gay
too?"

"Dad says he isn't. Both he and Robert when they met the right woman
just reoriented to the right side..."

"But I'm gay."

"I am too. But maybe Dad is right as far as it concerns them."

"Yes it could be so. But I really would never have guessed that
Robert... But if instead Robert was gay and he married just... out of
duty?"

"Who knows? How can we know? You cannot just ask him can you?"

"Of course I cant. But just think if he too was gay..."

"Don't start to dream now! Oh, and Dad also told me we can go on using
the attic for our meetings. I thought that it would be even safer if we
locked the door of the corridor opening on the service stairway as
well."

"Good heavens! It gives me a weird feeling knowing that your Dad knows
about us two and that this is OK with him..."

"Bah. He is sure we will change as he Robert did."

"Claude... yesterday evening we didn't finish. Do you think we can do it
this evening?"

"Of course we can. I really want to finish what we started yesterday
too..."

That day Jean Paul watched Robert carefully trying to divine whether
their coach could be gay or not. Now that he knew about Robert's
youthful escapade with Claude's father he looked at him with different
eyes. He felt that he was nearer and more accessible somehow or other.
But he certainly could not tell just by observing him whether the man
might be gay or not. And above all he told himself he must not allow his
desire to deceive him about the truth.

Finally the day of their departure for the European Athletics
Championship came. The French National Team left by a special flight
from Charles De Gaulle airport. At their departure there were reporters,
television, journalists, and interviews. At their arrival more
reporters, television, journalists and interviews. The buses provided by
the organisers of the Championship loaded them all and took them to the
residence assigned to them. They were in a university dorm rearranged
for the occasion. The room they got had been projected for just one bed,
therefore they were somewhat cramped with two. There was barely space to
turn around.

Their matches would be on the second and third days before the end of
the competition and so in the days before then they spent some of their
time looking at other competitions, some doing some gentle training and
some visiting the city. Claude was better known than Jean Paul because
he was France's champion so sometimes he was asked for an interview and
sometimes for autographs and Claude didn't miss a chance to tell the
reporters to keep an eye on Jean Paul who he explained would be the
discovery of these games.

At evening, back in their little room they made love every night. They
had decided to stop just two days before their events so as to be in
perfect shape and not to run risks.

They fraternized with the athletes of other nations and swapped badges
and addresses. They were photographed while they were touring the city
or during their training. For Jean Paul these were his first
championships abroad and he was feeling excited and happy. Claude
instead was quieter - he had taken part in the previous European
Championships and got the bronze medal. And then there would be the
Olympic games, the dream of every athlete.

France had never won the gold medal for the decathlon at the Olympics so
far and Robert said that if Jean Paul could get the gold on this
occasion he would have a serious claim on the Olympic gold. Robert was
counting on it. And now Jean Paul was at least as keen as him not for
himself but for Robert's sake. Jean Paul didn't care about showing he
was the best. But if Robert wanted that gold he would do his best to
give the man that satisfaction.

Finally the first of the two days of the decathlon contest came. Jean
Paul in one event after another attracted the attention of all the mass
media and of the spectators, of experts and of laymen. He won the 100
meters then the 400 meters too and the 1500 meters. He was first at 100
meters hurdles (and by a good margin over the athlete who was second).
He broke the European record in the high jump and he won the long jump
though it was only just by a hair's breadth. He also won the pole vault.
Everybody was shouting at the miracle. He won the discus throwing, was
second at putting the shot and then won the javelin. And so he got the
gold. It was a real triumph. His picture was in all the newspapers and
they called him "a complete athlete", and "Possibly the best of the
century".

Jean Paul discovered the thrill of glory. He got plenty of
congratulatory telegrams one was even from the President of the French
Republic. Even his adversaries asked him for autographs.

When they got back to France, they were met with a triumphal welcome. In
the newspapers there were box titles - "The greatest of Poitiers' boys"
"Jean Paul, the glory of France", "An easy victory" and so on.

When he went back home to Poitiers the town had prepared a welcome
worthy of a hero for him, and the Mayor gave him the keys of the town.
His father and mother had bought new clothes for the occasion. And when
they got home they had to face a procession of relatives, friends,
neighbours and unknown people...

Jean Paul was dazed by it all. It was not in his nature to be the
subject of everybody's attention like that.

When he finally got to go back to Paris he put the gold medal in its
little box lined with blue velvet and went to meet Robert.

"Well Jean Paul how do you feel now you are a champion?" Robert asked
him welcoming him and giving him a chair in his office.

"Dazed and confused."

"And happy?"

"Yes, for you Robert. This victory belongs to you."

"To me? No my boy it's entirely yours. It's you that had the right stuff
to be a champion. I just made it come out. It's entirely your merit Jean
Paul believe me."

"No, Robert. I won this victory only for you."

"For me?"

"Yes for you. For me it would have been enough just to participate. I
won it for you therefore this medal is yours. Keep it please."

"Come on - what are you saying? They put the medal round your neck."

"And now I want to put it round your neck."

"I thank you my boy. You're really kind but I cannot accept it."

"You must accept it! Please..."

"I can't see why..."

"Accept it Robert... please..." Jean Paul gently insisted and he took
the medal out of its little box, unrolled its ribbon and put it round
Robert's neck.

The man was moved and asked "But why?"

"Because... because I... I love you Robert. I'm in love with you!"

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 5

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In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to
read them, the URL is

http://andrejkoymasky.com

If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English
translations, so that I can put on-line more of my  stories in English
please e-mail at

andrej@andrejkoymasky.com

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