Disclaimer / Author's Notes: This is the second story I've written in the Nifty archive, but the first to be non-fanfic! Some things I should point out however; I'm English, so Canterbury means Canterbury in England, not the many other cities worldwide that are named after it, and Football means soccer, not American or Australian football. The story is based on a fantasy I've had for a while about possible encounters with people I used to know at college, and I couldn't be bothered to change the names (the only fictional character is the main character, who is based on an idealised vision of myself), though I doubt many people in this archive will know them. However, if you do know these people, please keep it quiet from them, coz they know where I live! If you ARE one of these characters (though why you're reading a gay stories archive I'll probably never know), please just send me an email warning me never to do it again, and don't come and egg my house! This story is intended for people of legal age only (16 in UK, 18 in most other places), so please don't read it if you are underage unless you are desperate, in which case keep it quiet and don't get into trouble. If you want to read my other story, it's in the CELEBRITY archive at Nifty, under 'Tales of Middle Earth'. Anyway, I guess you want to read now, so go ahead...
Footy Team Morale Part ONE
The weather in Canterbury was becoming variable, baking hot one minute, then pouring with rain the next, meaning that summer was definitely in. The in-term sports season at Chaucer Sixth Form college was about to end, meaning that all the sports coaches were becoming increasingly vigilant towards laziness, for fear that their players would spend the summer simply sitting around like the rest of the Sixth Formers. Jay Callum hated the summer. Sure, it was great to get away from college and into his own routine for six weeks, but his routine involved very little activity. He had joined the summer sports programme for Chaucer, playing football as midfielder and rugby as wing for his local teams, but that still left four days a week just sitting on his own at his house, getting himself into internet porn cycles. He wasn't a loner exactly, he had a few loose friendships on the football teams, people who he could talk to during practices, and one or two people he hung around with at college, but not really people he wanted to spend his whole summer with. So mostly, he was alone. He much preferred the term time, when he had routines set for him, as much as he hated it, always kept busy and active with no parents to bother him, and surrounded by people his own age. But there was one week left until summer broke out and they were all 'free', and he was coming up to his last week of footy training. He was sitting in the locker rooms in the college, damp, grey walled areas with broken lockers and the dreaded communal showers that nobody ever used, getting changed back out of his kit before he went home. The bells had sounded for the end of lessons almost half an hour ago, but the Football coach, Mr Munday, had asked him to collect all the props from the field and get them back into storage. So here he sat, alone, every movement he made echoing off the walls thickly. Jay wasn't that bad at sports, or so he thought anyway, especially football. He had spent much of his young teenage years watching England matches, admiring the tactics (and legs) of David Beckham and Michael Owen, instinctively learning the moves they used, moves that he had acted out on the pitch at school, making him quite a good player. He was tall and leanly muscled, his light frame and long legs allowing him to run faster than most of the larger, more well built players. He had been told many a time, by boys and girls alike, that he looked strikingly like a darker version of David Beckham himself, with short cropped black hair, brown eyes, a short goatee and stubble growing down his cheek bones. His lean body was hairy, a thin carpet covering his chest and tight stomach almost up to his shoulders and down to his groin. His legs and butt were also lightly furred, a fact that many of the team players had constantly drawn almost mocking attention to in the locker room. But it seemed this just made him more attractive, since he had received much unwanted attention from many of the college's female population, and he even suspected that some of the female teachers wouldn't have minded a glimpse at his furry pecs. Jay wished that the male population acted the same way. Chaucer was one of those colleges where most of the teachers were young and imaginative, mostly younger than 30, and the male teachers all seemed to be fresh faced and handsome, their muscles bulging slightly under their shirts and ties. Jay had had so many crushes on these teachers since he arrived at Chaucer a year ago that he had almost lost count, and he still had one year to go yet! The male students weren't hard on the eyes either, almost 200 teenage 'jock' type young men surrounding him was better than any internet site any day, Jay had thought many times. But the homosexual statistic of 'One in Ten' didn't seem to apply here, since he had never seen any evidence of gay men in the college apart from himself, which was unusual in Canterbury, a city usually accepting of the gay lifestyle, if a little ignorant. But it really got to Jay, the fact that he was almost 18 years old, had known he was gay since he was eight, was in one of the more accepting districts in Kent, and he had never met another gay man in his life, as far as he knew, which was disgraceful in his eyes. He felt lonely, if only he met another man who felt the way he did might relieve the loneliness. But it seemed nobody at college was in any mode to come out anytime soon, and that just made it worse.
Mr Munday, the coach, had noticed something bothering Jay for months, ever since the spring term that year in fact. He had noted it, and informed the school counsellor, but she had just claimed that it didn't seem to be affecting his schoolwork, and let it drop, as often happens in schools, unfortunately. But recently, whatever was bothering Jay had seemed to be affecting his football training, and, apart from feeling sorry for the kid, the coach wasn't about to loose one of his best players because of some personal problem. He knew perfectly well that Jay was 'playing for the other team', so to speak, but had not mentioned it, because it wasn't really any of his business, and he doubted that Jay would come to HIM for advice! Mr Munday had liked the look of Jay the moment he had arrived on the team; the dark mature looks of the young lad and the promising package between his thighs making his own manhood bloat slightly, especially in the changing room. Munday rarely saw young men with that much body hair, but it didn't bother him, because he thought Jay looked much more attractive with body hair that if he was all smooth like these other kids. Jay was also very quiet and reserved, which had sent the coach's gaydar spinning; why else would a sporty, attractive kid like that isolate himself? He constantly felt the need to tell the young man that he wasn't alone, that there were many more people like him inhabiting Chaucer Sixth-Form than he thought, many of them on the same football team as him, but he still restrained himself. It just wasn't his place. But that same day that Jay was sitting late after practice in the locker rooms, Munday was testing his self-restraint. Whatever seemed to be bothering the lad was now affecting his performance on the pitch, since he was constantly loosing his focus on the game, gazing at his fellow team mates, occasionally bending down or standing offside, readjusting himself and then come back on, making his part in the game fragmented, which affected the other players as well. He, himself, had found it difficult to keep his attention on the match those first two years he was there as coach, watching all those fit, athletic young bodies running around the pitch, in rugby as well, where he had to show the team how to scrum properly, often meaning that he had to hold onto legs, lower bodies, even the guy's crotches (as rugby players do, by the way!), and when demonstrating a tackle, his face would occasionally come perilously close to either the front of the back of the lad's shorts. But he had learned how to deal with it long ago, and Jay would be here for another whole year after the summer holidays finished, and Munday couldn't allow his performance to keep deteriorating simply because the kid was horny. There was now a possibility for him to get involved...
Michael Yaxley and David Kelleher were striker and defender on the Chaucer team. They were both small for their age, but still good players nonetheless. Mike, as he was known, was the shorter lad, a typical cheeky Geordie guy from the North of England with a round face and short sandy brown hair. He had friendly blue eyes and was quite skinny for 18 years, but was pretty well defined in muscle terms. He was the kind of guy who can be friends with anyone, because nothing he said sounded patronising. He was very popular on the football team, his skill for scoring goals almost legendary in the college, but he had never made the rugby team because he was too small, and the rest of the players were more the size of Jay, ranging on six foot tall, and at 5 feet 4 inches, he tended to get knocked around a lot. He didn't seem to take this hard though, and made up for it on the footy pitch. David Kelleher, or 'Little Dave' as most people called him (it was easier, since there were about six people called David in year 12 alone) was a bit taller than Mike, and was captain of the football and was the fullback for the rugby team, probably not the best player in the world, but still an asset to Chaucer. He had got his nickname from when he was in secondary school and he had been just 5' 3" by time he was 15, but in the three years since then he had grown a good amount, and was now closer to 5' 7", almost the regular height for 16 year olds in England. He had the same attitude towards people as Mike, which was probably why they were friends, but was a bit more straightforward with people. Many people suspected him of being gay, but he had never given them any proof, preferring to keep them guessing without having to label himself. He wasn't as thin as Mike either, and not as defined as Jay, not fat, thin or muscular, just somewhere in between. He spoke with a strong Kentish accent (a bit like a distorted Cockney accent), which threatened to outdo even Mike's Sheffield tang. He had longish blonde hair done up in an early Beckham hairdo (long at the sides and back and ridged along the top like a pointed Mohawk), and had deep blue eyes, which never failed the attention of the girls.
This same day, Mr Munday called them into his office, which was a small room in between the boy's and girl's locker rooms next to the sports hall just big enough for a desk, chair and four or five people to stand uncomfortably. They often came here after college finished for the day or after practice, everyone assumed for meetings, Dave being the footy captain, and Mike being striker, but most of the teams knowing better... This time however, Munday had something serious to discuss, and it concerned their midfielder, Jay.
"What's the problem?" Mike asked, not really understanding what Mr Munday meant, "Jay's a great player, I thought he was doing alright."
Dave nodded in agreement. They were both in the small group of people who had made it their mission to make sure that Jay had someone to talk to.
"Yeah sir, he's aright. Remember that rebound he did against Canterbury High last term?"
"That was then," the coach answered in a typical 'Coach' voice "This is now. There's something bothering him, and it's affecting his performance."
Dave and Mike grunted in reluctant agreement. They had both being playing that day, and had seen that Jay was having problems concentrating. It had almost lost them the match.
"You ain't going to throw him off are ya?" Mike asked in concern.
"No, that's not really necessary in my opinion." Munday said lowly "But I think it's up to us three to get him over it."
"How're we supposed to do that?" Dave rose curiously "We don't even know what's wrong with him."
"Tell you what," Munday responded, and paused slightly to think "D'yo remember David Allard last season?"
Mike grinned to himself as Dave chuckled slyly. Dave had had a massive crush on Mr Munday at the start of the year the last September, and it had been Dave and Mike who had...helped him get over it, as it were. He hadn't taken much persuading, taking everything they had to give him like a pro.
"Hold on a sec," Dave said holding up a hand "You're saying that Big Jay's doing the same thing?" He gave a short bark of laughter. "No wonder he's so quiet in English!"
Mr Patch, the English teacher, who was 23, had once been voted sexiest teacher in Canterbury, out of 5 secondary schools and two colleges!
"That's right Dave," said Mr Munday briskly "And I reckon it's about time we did something about it!"
Mike and Dave looked at each other and beamed. Bagging 'Big Jay' would be quite an achievement; unknown to Jay, there were bets going around the college, among both students and teachers, about how vocal Jay would be once he got properly fucked in the arse.
"So when d'we do this?" Mike said eagerly. "We've got practice last thing on Thursday..."
"No need." Said Munday; smiling craftily "I kept him behind to put all the stuff away from practice. He's in the boy's lockers now!"
Jay had now been sitting on his own for more than 15 minutes, lost in thought. Nothing really logical was going through his mind, he was just daydreaming, as he often did, and had lost track of time. He was completely unaware that he was being watched from the doorway.
Dave and Mike had changed back into their football kits as well, which were black shirts and shorts, sort of like the Manchester United Away kit, but with a white stripe down the left side and the Chaucer emblem on the front. They always wore their kit before they 'talked out' a fellow teammate, because it was easier to get out of, and because it turned on Mr Munday, watching him players shagging in their kits.
They were watching Jay from the door curiously. It was always odd to them how an 18-year-old lad could just sit and do nothing like Jay could. He sometimes did it during boring lessons, when he just stared into space, sort of like being asleep with his eyes open. It looked a bit strange, but it seemed to keep him occupied, and it was always a bit of a laugh when a teacher caught him doing it and got annoyed. As they walked over to the bench he Jay was sitting on, the sound of their studded boots seemed to snap him out of it and he looked up at them, a puzzled, dazed sort of expression on his face.
Jay was surprised to see Dave and Mike in the locker rooms at this time after lessons, and to see them in their kit, when he HAD thought that they had gone home ages ago. They did look really cool in their kit, Dave especially, his slightly hairy legs with their large calf muscles emphasised by the silky material of his shorts, their upper bodies clinging to their shirts like loose lycra, showing of Mike's defined chest and stomach and Dave's thick neck and shoulders. They both sat down on either side of him, almost cautiously Jay thought, and just looked at him for a second, which he found a bit unnerving.
"Y'all right Big Jay?" Mike said in a friendly tone, giving him a cheeky smile.
Jay gave a weak smile and a universally understood 'hmm' sound, meaning 'Yeah I'm fine', but the smile faltered as he looked at Little Dave. Dave was gazing at him intensely, and apart from making Jay feel awkward, it brought his heart into his throat. Dave was so handsome it was quite scary to be looked at so deeply by him like this, not to mention arousing. He wasn't smiling, but it wasn't a negative expression, it was more like Jay had imagined that he himself would look at the man he loved, when he found him.
"You just seem a bit down these days." Mike went on softly, in a tone Jay couldn't figure out, but sent shivers up his back. "Sure there's nowt bothering you?"
"Err...yeah," Jay said, his low, deep voice sounding a bit confused. "Fine..."
Dave was still looking at him like he was a particularly impressive work of art, and it was beginning to aggravate him. Forgetting about changing, he stood up, making to grab his bag, but Dave shot out an arm and grabbed his wrist, not hard, but just enough to stop him.
"Look, I really have to go," Jay said more strongly, trying to get Dave to let go of him "I've got, err, stuff to do, and..."
"We haven't been given coursework for weeks Jay," said Dave, in the same friendly tone as Mike, but still gazing at him intently. "What's the rush?"
Jay had heard THAT before; it was the line usually used by the bullies in his high school years when they were trying to intimidate their victim, just before they decided to give him a black eye or two, just for fun. But he didn't really believe that Mike Yaxley and Little David Kelleher would try to beat him up. For one thing he was bigger and stronger than both of them, and he knew they both knew this, but they seemed like friendly sort of lads, and he'd never heard of them laying a violent finger on anyone. Also, it wasn't the mocking tone of voice that would seem more appropriate if they had decided to try and make him sterile, it was far too soft and calming. But it still made Jay feel like panicking, and he forcefully wrenched his arm out of Dave's grip, and grabbed his kit bag. But the look on Mike's face made him slow down. It was a look Mike used a lot, a sort of fake pout, making him look as though he was about to cry, a look that he used in the common room to make people laugh, or to disarm someone into doing what he wanted, but why was he doing it now? Just then he felt a strong hand clap him on the shoulder, and he turned around to see Mr Munday standing right behind him.
"Jay, I was hoping you were still here," he said with an immobilising grin. "Could I have a word with you?"
Jay felt slightly relieved, although this dampened vaguely when Munday indicated the wooden bench next to Dave and Mike, making no hint that he wanted the two other lads to leave, and they didn't seem to have any intention of doing so. He sat down again, feeling a bit better, but still trying to ignore the way Dave was looking at him, smiling slightly now.
Mr Munday put his large hand on Jay's broad back and looked at him in the eyes. He often did this, so it didn't bother Jay very much, who enjoyed the contact with the older man. Mr Munday was handsome as well, you're typical jock coach, a few inches shorter than himself, with a square head and jaw, floppy brown hair and calm grey eyes. He was ruggedly muscular, with a broad chest and shoulders, hips that weren't too slim for muscle, and a nice round butt that echoed down to his thick, trunk-like legs, which were big and hairy like a rugby player's. He was wearing black trainers, white socks, knee-length black cotton shorts and a black v-neck t-shirt with a wide stripe down the middle with the words Chaucer Technology College written in blue across the chest. He always had the buttons on his v-neck undone, showing down to the top of the deep cleft between his pectoral muscles, and a few inches of curly black chest hair poking out. His thick arms seemed to fill the sleeves of the t-shirt, and his hands were like paws, that were even stronger than Jay's from teaching sports for six hours a day. Jay didn't find it difficult to ignore Dave and Mike when he looked at Mr Munday.
"Now, we all know that you're a brilliant player," Jay blushed at the compliment "And that without you we wouldn't have won nearly as many matches..."
Jay's spirits sank a bit. He could sense a 'but' coming up.
"But," Munday went on "You seem to be having problems concentrating recently, like today."
Jay thought back and went red from embarrassment this time. Mr Munday was looking at him in a knowing way, too knowing.
"Sorry sir," he grunted, casting his eyes down slightly. His eyes were drawn to his coach's thick beefy thigh muscles, and the sizeable package in his lap that had so often drawn his attention during football games. He went even redder. "I'll try to...erm..."
Mr Munday was still looking right into his eyes. Jay looked around at his two teammates just a bench away. They were both looking at him in the same way.
"I hate to have to give this talk to my players, especially good players," Munday began again "But if this problem continues, I may have reconsider you're position on the team, and I mean whether or not you should be on it."
Jay looked up again quickly, an alarmed look on his face.
"But...but..."
"BUT," Mr Munday said loudly "I think it would be easier if you just dealt with this problem here and now."
Jay started to feel sick. He thought he'd rather leave the team than tell his Football coach that he had a crush on him, with two other students in the same room, Mike and Little Dave or not.
"I think I know the problem," M Munday said quietly "I've seen it quite a lot during my time here. I know that, at your age, it's common for young men like yourself to find out that they are attracted to other men. Am I wrong? If I am please tell me."
Jay couldn't speak. He'd always been a bad liar, and he knew that the expression he was fighting to remove from his face would show his feelings clearly. He looked to the floor, trying to come up with something, but failing.
Mr Munday smiled, almost triumphantly. Looking at Mike and Dave, Jay saw that the smiles had not left their faces. Then he felt Mr Munday's hand on his thigh, the calloused palm rubbing the hairs on his skin causing goose bumps all up his left side.
"Like I said, I may have to reconsider you playing for this college if your performance doesn't pick up," Mr Munday said, quietly, almost seductively. "And, again, like I said, you're one of our best players. And I can't allow my best player's performance to slip..."
TO BE CONTINUED...