Road to World Cup

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Road to World Cup

Chapter 2 ~ A New England

Turin, 2000

--------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: 1. Do not read if you are likely to be offended by description of gay sex, or if it is illegal for you to do so. 2. This story is purely fictional and does not imply anything about the sexual orientation of the English football (soccer) players depicted. ---------------------------------------------------------------------

Fair Game

2.1 Beckham was drenched in sweat. He had not trained so hard for a long, long time. But the exertion couldn't drain away that giddy feeling inside him. Yes, he'd known for several days now he was the new captain. Yes, he knew it was silly to make so much fuss. Yes, he knew it was just plain fucking stupid to feel like this for several days. But he forgave his own silliness by telling himself that it was only his first training session as the captain of England.

The Captain of England.

He felt almost as buzzed as the day Brooklyn was born.

He loved everything he saw. He loved the press. He loved the training. He loved his teammates. He'd almost say he loved the plane, too.

He paused his thought and tried to close down Alan Smith who came back into the midfield to get the ball.

The bleach blonde babe Alan Smith.

Well, Becks decided that he loved his teammates best.

He pulled at Smithy's green bib, the only thing that separated his hand from Smithy's flawless skin. Smithy tried to turn past him. Their eyes met for a split second. Smithy glared with such determination and intensity that you'd think he'd eat you alive.

It's hard to associate that with the cutesy, goofy teenager that he was off the pitch. But his aggression was part of his charm.

Smithy was glistening with sweat. Becks would love to lick them off him any time he wanted.

Young thighs were running around, giving their all on the pitch even though it was just training. Becks could not but think England should've got together a young squad right from the start, and Smithy should've been picked in every squad.

Becks caught Gerrard stealing a glance at Smithy. Obviously, great minds think alike.

2.2 Walking upstairs to find the Nevilles, Becks heard a hushed angry voice in the hallway.

"Why are you avoiding me?" It was young Steven Gerrard speaking, no doubt about it. But who was he speaking to so "secretly"?

"I'm not. I'm just tired."

Becks had to take a peep to make sure he didn't hear it wrong. It couldn't be, but it was Michael Owen. Why the hell were they being so secretive? Michael obviously looked like he didn't want to discuss it in the hallway, whatever it was. It's getting interesting.

"Yeah? Why did you stop me from swapping rooms with Carra then?" So, he wanted to share a room with Michael, but Michael would rather sleep with Carragher? Too much information.

Michael crossed his arms and shook his head, as though saying Steve was too hopelessly dim to get it, no matter how many times he'd tried. He gave up talking and moved to open the door.

Steve grabbed Michael's hand and apologised, but Michael's relief was short-lived. "I knew you meant it well but I really don't want to hide anymore."

Becks pulled back to avoid being detected but he could imagine Michael must look like death.

"Give us a little more time, Steve. I want to wait 'til we are really sure..."

"I am sure. I have always been sure. Why do you say we aren't sure?" Steve took a deep a breath. His voice was shaking. "You wanted space. I gave you space. But now you're saying you aren't sure-"

"Sh... Calm down. You want the whole floor to hear this?"

"Maybe I do."

"Come on. Let's go inside."

"I know what you're doing. You want to sweet-talk me out of this. Tell you what, you can't get rid of me easily!"

"If you want to think this way"

Becks heard a door open and then quickly close.

"It's not what I want to think. It's what you're doing. You think I'm fucking simple. Well, I'm not as thick as you want to believe." Steve mouthed at the door.

Certain that there would not be further developments, Becks quietly slipped away. He couldn't wait to share this little piece of information with Gary.

What he least expected was to run into scenes like that, twice a day, in quick succession.

2.3 "Do you honestly believe that there is even the remotest possibility that Becks will, erm, fancy you?" The edginess which Gary wanted to hide from his brother didn't go unnoticed.

"You're just jealous." Phil couldn't think of a clever retort.

"Of the wishful thinking of a pathetic minger? No, I don't think so. Sorry to be so painfully honest, but you aren't exactly the best- looking one in our family."

"You don't have the balls to do it. Simple as that. That's why you're trying to stop me."

"I'm just trying to save you from embarrassing both yourself and Becks," Gary was exasperated. "but clearly you aren't..."

"You want to guard him in your cellar," Phil sneered like he knew it all "but you seems to have forgotten you aren't even his wife."

"Fuck off." Gary stormed out of the bedroom they shared, only to find Becks eavesdropping outside.

Somehow, Becks just knew Gary would flip when Victoria was mentioned.

Becks noticed that Gary's face had turned bright red. He felt he should say something, but they just stared.

Usually in situations like this, people would just pop up out of nowhere and take care of it for him.

People like Gary.

Gary seemed to be struggling for words as badly as Becks was. Becks wished he knew what was going on in Gary's mind but he was sure he was too thick to figure it out. Whatever Gary was trying to say he was holding it back, because it would make no difference at all.

Becks threw a glance at Gary and Phil's room. Phil was leaning against the door.

The longing in Phil's eyes stirred something inside Becks.

Becks heard Gary walking away ¡V so Gary must've seen Phil too.

All of a sudden, Becks realised what it was Phil had stirred in him.

Guilt.

He had an urge to run after Gary, and he would have done so if Phil had not gripped his arm.

Instincts told him to run away but he never knew what to trust.

"Look..." Becks spoke first because he was afraid of what might happen. But he didn't really know what to say.

"You heard it." Phil said in a most matter-of-fact way.

An unspoken question hanged in the air.

Becks dared not speak.

Phil took Beckham's shrug as acquiescence and kissed him.

So this was happening, anyway.

Having a little fun with Phil wasn't something that Becks would mind. Usually.

Because usually, being trapped in a hotel was boring as hell. And in really desperate situations, the face of the partner didn't matter, because there are a zillion ways to avoid looking at his face. But this time, something else was making him hesitate.

He dealt with this troubling thought by pushing it away. He closed his eyes and just let it happen, let their tongues find each other, let their hips grind together, let their hands roam over the warm flesh that was fuelling their lust.

Suddenly he felt Phil fumbling for something in his tracksuit pockets.

"What are you doing?"

"Just switching off my mobile."

"Good." Becks closed his eyes as Phil assaulted his mouth again.

Over the phone, Gary heard Becks say, "Suck me, Phil."

Gary's eyes saw red, although he didn't know what he was angry at. His fingertip lingered on the red button of his mobile but somehow he didn't press it.

Instead, he listened on.

When the waiter brought him his coffee, he had to snatch his hand away from his crotch.

Becks exploded in Phil's mouth.

He mumbled his customary thank but Phil didn't hear it. Phil had picked up his mobile, "Still there, Gary?"

Only then did Becks realize Gary must've heard everything they'd just done.

What a way to mark his first day as captain! Just when he thought it was his chance to generate some team spirit in the squad, he'd alienated his very best friend.

2.4 Becks had been wandering around the hotel, vaguely hoping to bump into some of his teammates. Preferably the young ones. So that he could try his hand at being a good captain. He knew he could be a good captain. He just needed a little time.

His mind flashed back involuntarily to what happened in the Nevilles' room.

Well, everyone makes mistakes.

The gaffer was now gathering the lads at the hotel bar. Becks took the long route to go there. He thought it might be a good idea to check if everyone knew and remembered that.

Given what he'd overheard earlier that day, he didn't really expect to find Gerrard all dressed up waiting for the elevator. Surely Stevie G. would have more sense than "sneaking out" so blatantly?

But when Steve greeted him, Steve didn't look like he thought anything was wrong.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The smile on Beckham's face was gone. "The gaffer's in the bar with all the lads."

Steve suddenly remembered Becks was the team captain, "Sorry".

Becks laughed at Steve's sheepish response and escorted Steve to the hotel bar. Steve didn't find it quite as amusing.

They chatted, but only half-heartedly, about cars, and then girls, especially the female population in Turin.

Even Becks noticed their conversation was drab.

A thought suddenly came to Becks' mind. "... girls are too easy when you are loaded. Don't you think?"

Steve was still only half-listening. "As long as they are fit, I don't really care."

Undaunted, Becks pressed on. "Thought you'd like something more of a challenge."

"Like what?" An alarm rang inside Steve's head. "Rich pop stars? Sorry, no disrespect."

"I'm thinking about someone closer to home." They stopped at the entrance to the bar. "Someone round here, who looks like he's out of reach..."

Steve noticed the "he" Becks had used. "I don't really fancy shagging our gaffer."

Becks laughed. Alright, some blokes are really off limit. "But how about the bleach blond over there?"

Steve followed Becks' glance to Smithy who was sitting on the sofa, joking animatedly with the other lads. Steve didn't say a word.

Becks looked sheepishly at Steve's face. He was relieved that Steve seemed to be considering it.

"I bet you a grand I'll have him by Wednesday night." Becks leant towards Steve's ear, so closely that they were almost touching.

Steve laughed and spoke into Becks' ear. "I bet you a grand I'll shag him before you do."

"Deal." Becks entered the bar and announced he's buying a round for everyone.

Steve followed Becks to help with the drinks. "How do we know who wins?"

Becks brandished his mobile.

Steve waited no time in getting started.

He crouched down by the sofa and said something into Smithy's ear. Not even Robinson, who was sitting next to Smithy, heard what those two were saying. They only saw Smithy laugh in disbelief.

Becks took the seat Scholesy et al had reserved for him, as he didn't have an excuse not to.

"You're suddenly friends with Gerrard?" Scholesy muttered.

Becks didn't answer.

He watched in envy as Steve squeezed himself between Smithy and Robinson on the couch, draping his arm over Smithy's shoulders. If he'd known Smithy was that easy, he wouldn't have bet with Stevie. He gotta do something.

When he was about to get up, Michael entered the room.

Becks was caught in two minds: Should he go to claim what was rightfully his, or should he sit back and watch the drama unfold?

He sat back.

Steve's eyes were locked in a deadly duel with Michael's, his arm never leaving Smithy.

It seemed all hell would break loose any second now but Michael tore his glare away before it got too suspicious.

Steve would rather Michael fought with him. He hated Michael's habit of ignoring him.

He wanted to fuck Smithy right there just to see Michael jealous. He needed to Michael jealous. Damn it, he knew Michael was jealous, alright.

The gaffer was talking to Steve now. Becks grasped this chance to steal Smithy away. To get the drinks, he said. The gaffer told them to go easy on the drinks so this was to be the last round for the night.

"The senior side's alright?" Becks wanted to act like a good captain, but he didn't know what a good captain was like, so he just bullshitted something.

"Yeah. Great bunch of lads."

"Not nervous?

"Yeah, a little." Smithy was mumbling. He was keenly aware that Becks was moving closer to him. "Guess everybody feels a bit... nervous for the first time..."

They stopped talking for a second. Their skin touching.

The bartender looked at them funny. Dumb as Becks was, he knew they gotta move. "You can, you know, talk to me any time you want. You know my room number?"

"Yeah." Smithy's eyes were sparkling. He seemed to be thinking about the unspoken proposition.

Sensing his chance, Becks flashed Smithy his most seductive smile. "Why don't you come around tonight?"

There was suddenly a flicker of doubt on Smith's face. Becks wished he knew why.

Smithy took a quick, suspicious glance at Steve, and said, "Thanks. I'll see you when I've got problems."

Becks didn't understand what made Smithy change. He was even more puzzled when Smithy didn't return to Steve's arms.

When Smithy was helping Becks out with the drinks, Steve couldn't decide whether to keep an eye on Smithy or on Michael. He was convinced Michael and Carra chatted up Ball just to annoy him. Still, he was seething.

He tried to ignore them back. He turned around just in time to catch Smithy's glance at him. The look of rejection on Becks' face was priceless.

When Steve turned back, Michael had left the bar with Carra and Ball. They were retiring to their rooms, but not in the way the gaffer thought.

2.5 Sensing Ball's hesitation, Owen swiftly shut the door and snogged him off his face. The hardness in Ball's shorts soon cast away any doubts they had about this. They were now practically tearing each other's clothes off.

Carra joined them after getting things ready on the bed. He had promised Owen to be extra careful because of the virgin in hand.

Ball stopped them for a moment to take in Owen's beautiful naked form. Carra went around to hold him from behind.

Owen started kissing him again. Just playful light kisses at first. He giggled and gingerly lay his hand on Owen's cock while Carra grabbed hold of his. Owen was kissing him harder now.

Ball had thought it might be nice to try it with a bloke, but this was beyond his imagination. It's funny he'd actually wanted to turn it down. Had it not been Owen, he really wouldn't have agreed to this. Thinking back to the scene in the bar, something struck his mind.

"What's up with you and Steve?" Ball asked between kisses.

"Nothing. What did you think?"

"Oh?" Owen's evasive answer got him thinking. "But you acted like you were... a-void-ing... each... o-ther..."

Ball's breathing had become laboured as Carra slowly licked his cock.

"You talk too much." Carra slapped Ball's pert buttock and then winked at Owen.

With Owen's help, Carra lay Ball down on the bed.

Ball panicked. "No, Carra, I've never..."

"Hush!" Owen's tender kisses partially soothed Ball's anxiety. He and Carra pulled Ball's legs apart.

Ball opened his mouth but the protests didn't come out. Owen's hand on his cock made it difficult for him to really mean what he intended to say.

"Just lie back and enjoy it... And don't scream." Carra said softly but firmly.

"What-" Ball's objection was stifled by Carra's warm tongue on the entrance of his hole. He closed his eyes as the weird sensation shot through his brain.

"No one ever did that to you?"

Even while Carra was doing it, Ball still had trouble believing anyone would want to stick their tongue up there. But his own squirming was proof enough that Carra was there, tonguing his hole. There was the occasional finger, too. And it just felt fucking amazing.

Then it all stopped.

Ball opened his eyes and saw Owen swap position with Carra.

"Trust me. Just relax." Owen's cock, all lubed up, was pushing at his entrance.

If it weren't Owen, he might've got angry. Somehow he just couldn't get mad at him.

And anyway, this didn't really hurt him like he'd imagined. He just felt... he didn't know... stuffed.

Slowly, Owen moved in and out while Carra started stroking his cock. He was beginning to enjoy it.

Ball reached round for Carra's cock. Owen speeded up his movement as soon as he saw this.

Soon, Ball's strokes on Carra's cock was turning erratic. He was coming. His tight grip on Carra almost squeezed the life out of him.

"Jesus Christ! I should've got Barry here instead." Carra got up.

Owen gapsed as he pumped his load into Ball's virgin hole. "We could do with a foursome."

Carra kissed him as he pulled out of Ball. He tugged at Carra's cock. "It's not aching now, is it?"

"It's aching for action." Carra stroked the firm muscles on Ball's legs. "You're alright?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Carra pulled up Ball's legs.

"You don't waste any time, do you?" Owen sat down beside Ball.

"He says he's alright."

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"Go easy on him. He's just a kid."

Carra showed Michael how much lube he was using.

Ball felt like he was stretched to the limit when Carra entered him. And Carra didn't wait for him to get used to it or anything. He just ploughed him and ploughed him. Strange as it seemed, Ball almost felt like he was going to come again just from Carra's fucking.

"Like it, huh?" Carra grinned. "Want me to fuck you harder?"

"Yeah, I mean no, really. Slowly. Please."

But it seemed Carra had only asked out of courtesy. Ball repeated his pleas, but Carra didn't care. He was coming.

Ball could almost feel the force of Carra's juice when Carra came.

Carra hit the showers straight after he was finished. Ball was spent but he guessed he'd best be going. Owen made no move to stop him going. He only asked him not to let anybody know about this.

The shower Carra took was so quick that Owen doubted whether Carra had really cleaned himself.

Carra crashed down by Owen's side as soon as he got out.

"You're still dripping wet." Owen frowned.

"Am I?" Carra dragged a wet trail on Owen's chest. "So what?"

Owen turned away.

Carra rolled onto his back, laying his head on crossed arms. He was sure Owen wouldn't keep silence all the time but it seemed he was wrong.

In the end, he had to break the silence himself. "You, I don't understand you at all."

"What do you mean?"

"You say you don't want to be tied down by a man. But why do you always lay down so many rules to tie yourself down?"

Owen scoffed. He ran his fingers over the tips of Carra's armpit hair. It didn't qualify as tickling but it already made Carra flinch.

A tickling war quickly ensued.

2.6 Smithy jumped onto Robinson's bed, hoping to wrest his playstation controller out of his hands.

"You're such a bad loser."

Because of his size, Robbo didn't need to do much to keep the controller out of Smithy's reach.

Smithy turned his target from snatching the controller to wrestling Robbo. Robbo beat him yet again but not after a prolong fight. After pinning him down, Robbo rested the whole weight of his body on him.

"Stop it! I can't breathe." Smithy's plea was real.

However, as soon as Robbo lifted his weight up a bit, Smithy squirmed as if he were trying to get away, although he wasn't trying too hard.

Robbo pressed his body towards Smithy, but careful not to crush him.

Their eyes met, communicating the silent words that weren't quite meant to be said. Robbo was sure about what they wanted but he still had to check. He reached down to Smithy's groin. Hard on. Robbo laughed. "You need a hand?"

Smithy looked at him expectantly.

But suddenly Robbo stalled. "Answer me three questions first."

"Aw... Go on then." Despite saying that, Smithy was still intent on making Robbo so horny that he wouldn't be able to keep away from him.

"What did Steven Gerrard say to you in the bar?"

Smithy's wriggling was making Robbo's excitement hard to hide but Robbo wasn't giving in, just yet.

"Next, you'll ask what Becks said."

Smithy's hands were now snaking down Robbo's clothes.

"So you got exactly what you've been dreaming for?"

Smithy wished. He would've gone with either of them, Steve or Becks. But the both of them hitting on him on the same day?!! There must be something wrong. Only, he couldn't figure what they were actually after.

"If you insist on quizzing me, then it's you who loses out." Smithy stopped moving.

Against Smithy, Robbo knew he could never win. Even now, he was amazed how easily Smithy turned. His hips were humping Smithy despite himself.

Smithy rolled Robbo over and freed Robbo's cock out of his pants.

Robbo's got a nice cock. Straight, smooth and uncut. Smithy'd thought about sucking him, but he didn't do it, 'cause Robbo probably wouldn't want to do that to him.

He held Robbo's cock in a firm grip and slowly stroke it up and down.

Robbo did the same, except he closed his eyes whereas Smithy didn't. Smithy liked watching Robbo shoot although he'd never admitted it in front of him.

They've been helping each other out at hotels since they were in the youth team. Years of practice made them know about just the right moves to make each other come.

Robbo's thumb brushed over Smithy's piss-slit. He looked at Smithy and grinned. They were coming together.

Watching Robbo's powerful shot made Smithy come harder than he did alone or with a girl. They cleaned themselves and played playstation again. Smithy wished everything could be as uncomplicated as this.

2.7 Becks zapped through all the channels he could find, but he wasn't really in the mood of watching TV. He just couldn't sleep.

He had talked with a couple of the new lads in the squad but they only made him feel they were patronizing him. For fuck's sake, he was just trying to be a captain. That's all.

Beckham was now bored as well as frustrated. He put down the remote control and looked at Nicky, who was lying on his stomach with his feet in the air. Nicky was flipping through his magazine, ignoring him on purpose.

"Nicky?"

Nicky pretended he didn't hear.

"Nicky?" It sounded like a plea.

"Yeah?"

"You know, you can come to me if you have problems."

"'Course I would." Nicky stopped reading. He suddenly thought of something that could put Becks out of his misery. "Listen, have you phoned Brooklyn tonight?"

"How could I forget that!" Becks cheered up at once.

Nicky continued browsing through the magazine. A few minutes later, Becks sat down by his side.

"Say hello to Uncle Nicky!"

Becks pushed his mobile to Nicky's face.

Brooklyn kissed both of them goodnight. Becks also kissed both Brooklyn and Nicky goodnight.

Becks lay back on his bed with a grin on his face. Nicky was still lying on his stomach, reading. Becks turned off the TV and looked at Nicky. He noticed for the first time Nicky's legs were actually quite nice.

to be continued

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