Offside. Chapter 9

I take my hand away from Andy’s mouth who seems to be passing away into slumber, so I push him back up into a position he can remain seated. We should have played closer to the wall so that Andy could fucking lean against it and not fall asleep, but he’s already getting drowsy.

“Stay awake man, we didn’t even play truth or dare yet.” I say, trying to keep him awake for the rest of the game of monopoly at least. But I know he won’t last and we won’t really embarrass ourselves any further.

“So you only dated Steven?” Johnny asks carefully and I feel like we’re the only ones who seem to be relatively sane. Paul seems to be holding barely as well after a few more turns of his. So far no one is negotiating because frankly everyone is too drunk to care.

“Yeah. I was quite a late bloomer. I didn’t have any luck with girls, but I kept really trying and nothing would ever happen until I met Steven.” I confess, a bit too shy of being a late bloomer, but no real judgement really goes through his face, which I am thankful for.

“Yeah, but what a relationship that was.” Paul says, winking at me. That seems to be his action of the night.

“Shut up, Paul.” By now Andy is laying on the floor, passed out and holding the bottle of vodka next to him like a teddy bear.

“What about it?” Johnny’s curiosity isn’t stopped. We even decided to divide Andy’ money and property among us by putting them on the other side and just pulling from underneath his stomach. Most likely we will end up waking up later to puke and will do truth or dare then.

“It was just messy. It lasted for…” Paul looks up, trying to count in his mind and I just keep quiet, letting chaos dissolve without me. “Two years or so. But Steven cheated a lot.”

I take the bottle from Andy who does a sleeping screech and drink from it, without even pouring it into the glasses.

“As Robbie found out. He found out and that’s why they broke up. Steven was pretty much sleeping with a bunch of guys and girls. He really wasn’t faithful at all.” I just look away at the window with the night already managed to reach us with all the playing we had done and somehow I just felt terribly sad that Andy had passed out already. Maybe we shouldn’t have drank so damn early?

“Robbie?” Johnny asks and I try to snap out of it as I look into his dark eyes.

“What?” I ask, nearly snapping, but I really don’t mean it, I’m just pretty damn drunk.

“You alright, man?” Johnny asks me and I wonder how long have we all gone without a smoke break, but the alcohol seemed to have held us down pretty well.

“Yeah, I just need a smoke.” I say and I try to stand up.

“Don’t fucking smoke in the room.” Andy wakes up only to say that before dazing off again and to confirm it he starts snoring.

I stand up, obeying Andy’ orders to not smoke in the room and I’m dreading the fact that I would have to go downstairs and smoke there with his mom to see. I take out my destroyed pack of cigarettes and show it to both Paul and Johnny. Paul looks at both of us.

“Nah, I’ll stay with sleepy Andy. You enjoy your smoke, boys.” He says and just leans down on the floor before finding a good position on his back with his arms behind his head and I see him actually close his eyes before we leave. The fucker decided that he will actually sleep then.

We wobble literally downstairs and try to be as quiet as possible, as it’s already night time even if I’m sure that Andy’ mom is not sleeping, we still try not to make a fuss and make her check on us.

Everything looks the fucking same while being terribly drunk and I wonder what the fuck will even happen and if we will all be bent over the loo when the morning comes or late night. Eventually we get outside and Johnny lights the cigarette I had given him back upstairs with his own lighter and offers to light mine. As soon as I lean towards the flame he leans towards me with his cigarette and they touch, lighting mine in the process.

I just widen my eyes and stare at him, hoping for an explanation, but nothing really happens, instead Johnny who is oh so sure of his sexuality just looks back at me, as if asking what’s up, what’s going on bro. He’s playing me and he’s terribly enjoying himself.

He’s a fucking flirt too.

I have only properly flirted with Steven and wanted it.

I don’t know if I have the guts to ask him about the cigarette, but what if he’s one of those guys which get drunk and horny and what if those are the only valuables which allow him to sleep with other men?

I want to take his cigarette and kiss him, but instead we’re left in this drunk haze where we don’t yet know each other and somehow there is some electricity between us. Or maybe it’s all in my head, but he lit my cigarette with his own. So there’s something going on his mind as well or maybe he’s just terribly messing with me. What the fuck do I have to lose if I kiss him? A friend? I’ve got plenty? Well, they’re all wankers but it’s not like I need someone else to be snarky with me, but there’s rejection which happens and it would all be so anticlimactic, but it happens or maybe you should know when you get rejection, it’s only anticlimactic in one’s head?

“What?” Johnny asks all innocently and inhaling the cigarette.

“You’re making everything too sexual.” I say nearly whining and inhaling my own.

“Oh, am I?” He asks and he terribly reminds me of Paul and Andy. A cocky shit. Do I even want to stick my tongue down any of their throats? Well, Johnny’s surely. But what difference is there? How drunk am I?

I take a step towards him, he’s much taller than I am. I’m not going to stand on my tip toes.

“Yeah.” I say and his smoke is against mine, mixing, both smoke and breaths.

“Robbie, I’m pretty damn drunk, so if I fucking do anything stupid… It’s the booze.” He scratches his eyebrow and ruins the moment, just like with his sexuality he had ruined it before. I don’t back down. I’m too damn drunk as well.

“Yeah, stupid like throwing your underwear out of the window.” Underwear. Naked Johnny underneath me. Our cocks rubbing together. “I’ll tell you.”

“Robbie, I mean it.” And he puts his finger on my temple and drags it along my jawline. He’s really fucking teasing me and we both know it. He’s taking the piss and isn’t at the same time. I close my eyes, breathing out the smoke slowly and enjoying the rough touch of his fingertip.

“Is that why you’re nearly fucking me right now?” I ask rather roughly and opening my eyes just to catch his proper reaction which is smirking at me and taking his hand away and back to his cigarette.

“Teasing you and touching you isn’t really fucking you…” Johnny pauses and does a lengthy pause, which reminds me of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. “Yet.”

I feel my chest tighten.

“What do you mean, yet?” It doesn’t feel in slow motion at all.

“Just once.” And he leans closer to me, taking out his cigarette and looking into my pretty damn desperate eyes. He’s toying with me and I’m completely allowing him, as if we had known each other in a past life and somehow he had managed to fuck me very successfully then.

“Just once what? You’ll fuck me?” I ask and I feel my cock twitch from the thought of it.

“No. I just don’t want you to feel lonely anymore. Paul and Andy are pure wankers.” And he kisses me. I instantly kiss back and open my mouth, but he had already leaned back, electricity going through all over my body as if I had just orgasmed and was reaching some post-coital bliss which I wasn’t even aware of that existed.

I stare at him, he looks a bit regretful.

“Johnny?”

“Sorry, I told you I would do something stupid.” He laughs a bit darkly and I take his hand. The one I had shook hands with twice, I think. I hold it.

“I don’t think it’s stupid.” I breathe out terribly heavily. Fuck. “You fucking did it for a reason. Own up to it.”

We’re standing terribly close and I know that either Andy or Paul can fucking fall out of the window and ruin the moment.

“I don’t have to own up to anything, Robbie.” I really do a dart throw guess that it’s because he’s terribly drunk and he won’t remember it sober.

“Fine.” I say rather sharply. We finish our cigarettes in peace and make our way back somehow, but all the rest of it is terribly murky that I don’t recall how the monopoly went.

I regret drinking terribly the next morning, I wake up just like everyone else on Andy’ rug and no one even bothered to change out of their clothes, besides Johnny who managed to pull his head out of his shirt and leave the arms in the sleeves. The monopoly is right under Paul’s ass with the houses digging into his jeans which looks very uncomfortable, but he’s sleeping so maybe it’s cosy in some sort of sadistic tendency way that I’m not aware of which he is into. My head is splitting open and I’m sure some doctors are putting in screwdrivers and tampering with my brain.

My lips feel like they’re burning as I slowly gather the pieces together of a memory of Johnny briefly kissing me. If we were alone I would have easily grabbed him by the shoulders and shaken him, asking why the fuck did he pull away and what the fuck was even going on in his mind.

Instead Andy does a very loud groan and Johnny shifts in his t-shirt, pulling it off entirely and sitting up, looking terribly bewildered with wide eyes, looking around until his gaze falls upon me. He looks a bit paler than he would usually, but it’s for another reason.

“Where’s the toilet?” He asks again, probably forgetting that he’s used the loo yesterday.

“Go a bit left and you’ll see it, it’s the first door.” And he runs out, holding his hand in front of his mouth. I keep hearing Andy’ groans. But I decide to follow Johnny who is actively throwing up into the toilet and I wonder since he claimed that he had drank before, how much did he actually drink? I put my hand on his back, stroking it, as he just stands on his knees, leaning over the toilet and coughing.

“Water?” I ask him and he just nods. I grab the cup which is used to brush teeth, and pour some water in it before handing it to him. Johnny drinks it very hungrily. His curls are all in front of his face and all I can think of is his words, that he told me that he didn’t want me to be lonely and that’s why he had kissed me.

What the fuck happened later? How much more did we drink? Who won monopoly?

“I’m sorry.” Johnny says with his head still nearly down the toilet, waiting if he is going to puke more or not.

“It’s alright, you were drunk.” I say softly.

“Wait… what did I do drunk?” He looks at me scared. I just blink at him. Maybe he doesn’t remember after all. Or maybe the memories will come back to him? Instead I just stroke his back again.

“Nothing stupid, I promise.” Well, it’s true, isn’t it? I just keep stroking his back. Do I tell him what he had done or do I just pretend that nothing had happened until he fucking finally does it sober? Will he ever do it sober? I doubt so. He doesn’t seem the type to actually own up to some attraction to men while sober.

–

I always kind of get very excited about any tension and I always worry that I might’ve pushed things far too fast, but I think everything is at it’s pace and the story is coming to be quite long. It’s far longer than Saudade which is on this blog. I’ve written stories all sizes, but it’s always fun to have a long one.

Offside. Chapter 8

We start a game of drunk monopoly, where frankly we just continue drinking. First Andy gets some glasses from downstairs as I set up the game. I end up feeling a bit dizzy already from the plain rounds we had swung from the bottle already while playing Fifa. I know that my mind is getting a bit foggy, but I still feel sober, just that I happen to stare at Johnny far more often and leaving my gaze there, just like when I’m counting the money to hand it over to him. We’re all bored so I hope he shares my view point where I frankly would bone him even if he wasn’t as nice and attractive and was just queer. But he’s not queer regardless of what I think and what he does.

“Robbie, you gave me three 500 notes.” Johnny smirks at me, probably very highly aware of my attraction to him by now. I take one note away from him. I always liked the fact that I was a lightweight when it came to alcohol or the fact that I would usually drink more than the rest and be the first drunk, because that would mean that my anxiety would be gone sooner and I wouldn’t care about what’s really happening too much.

I feel far too foggy, because I can only think about how lonely I am and I know that if I drink a bit more, I’ll probably be the first one to break down and start talking about Steven before being a happy drunk. The problem about what kind of drunk you are depends on how life really is and my life is pretty miserable even if I don’t want to admit it much, I want to stay positive and not caring, but in reality I’m terrified of the future up to the point that I’ve contemplated taking my life. I’ve thought of just ending it all because I’ve lived enough to taste everything I had wanted, but what keeps me going is the pure fear of suicide.

I take a swing from the bottle once more just to null the thoughts and it sort of seems to ease me even more a bit, even if I feel that on the edges I’ve got fear.

Andy shows up with his promised glasses. They’re just regular glasses rather than some shot glasses, because frankly we drink like pigs and in a way it’s a way to say hey mom, we drank juice, look at our glasses even if they will be reeking of a vodka and whiskey mix. We all cheer only far more drunk. Andy pours more of the remains of the whiskey bottle, as we haven’t even gotten to Johnny’s vodka and I wonder how deadly would the mix even be. I don’t think I care.

Andy sits besides me.

“Hey, Paul.” He says to me.

“I’m Robbie.” I think we’ve drank plenty or at least in Andy’ eyes I seem to see too many reflections of a drunken man.

“Whatever. I’m sorry that I didn’t invite you and Steven over too much. That was me being an asshole.” He says and I even look around, to make sure that we are in his room with all the posters of babes on the walls and the tacky old wallpapers which his mom refused to change. I look back to just stare at him confused.

“It’s… alright?” I say holding the confused note. “Just don’t be an asshole next time to whoever I’m seeing.”

“Just that… he looked like such a fairy and you always looked normal. Like… I could never believe you were gay. Besides your fucking shoes and then your clothes…” He pauses and gives a brief hiccup. “Okay, fine, you look gay, but-”

“You’re drunk.” I say drunk.

“My point is, I was an asshole. I’ll be on your side now.” And he pats me on the shoulder. Paul then just winks at me, probably indicating that he’s also on my side. Johnny, who seems to be the most sober of us all just smiles at me. Fucking smiles at me. Suck me off already.

“How sweet of both of you, homophobes.” I smirk, not fully flattered and still hating them somewhere down in my kidneys. I don’t really voice much, but Paul winks at me again and rolls the dice. I have no idea how are we even managing to stay by the rules, but we just started so it’s only later in the game where you start offering different streets to buy where our fully smashed selves will prevail.

I’m sure that the game will eventually get much uglier than I expect it to be and the fact that we keep pouring the leftovers of the whiskey isn’t really a good sign of the day ending. But it’s better than to think about the impending winter, which will frankly be basically no sunlight and snow if were aren’t lucky. I don’t want to think about seasonal depression and the feeling of just being trapped in something which doesn’t seem to pass at all because it’s so desperately long.

“We will always have your back.” Paul says and moves his little top hat, passing my little battleship.

“Yeah, of course.” I say, rolling my eyes and recounting my money because of one time when we were kids when Andy took some hundreds from me.

“No, seriously, now I know my mistakes and I’ll have your back.” Andy says. “No matter what fairy you’re fucking.”

Then he pauses.

“Who fucked who?” He asks with absolutely no filter and I just roll the dice, silently and I realize that all eyes are on me with the most ridiculous question anyone gay can get from a straight person.

“How about that’s none of your business, Andy?” I say, moving the piece and landing on Johnny’s square, so instead I shift my attention to the tall new friend. “How much, Johnny?”

Thankfully I didn’t land on any street which had a house, as he got lucky enough to get all three streets of the same colour, making Paul wince as if someone had stabbed him because he didn’t have the money to buy it when he landed there three turns ago. All these few turns Andy just sat in jail, making me wish that he would actually be in jail instead. I tried to ignore the looks and even Johnny holds from giving me his money.

“C’mon, Robbie, we’re all curious about your sex life.” Paul says and Johnny just looks at me. I lean my head back, closing my eyes.

“No, just fuck off.” I say, not even opening my eyes not to see the fuckers.

“Are you like… the passive? Is that how it’s called, Paul?” Andy asks and I’m guessing he turns to face Paul.

“How the fuck would I know, Andy?” Paul speaks out.

I don’t even want to give them a lesson on gay terminology and I flinch at the passive word, really not wishing to explain that sometimes it’s not that black and white. That in my case both me and Steven would just do it as we would please and I kind of hoped to have the same sex fluidity in that with my next partner or partners. If I would ever get any, that is.

“If you’re on my side, just google some fucking definitions and leave me alone.” I say and Johnny finally takes my money after softly saying 18, quiet enough not to disrupt the horrid discussion which was getting on my nerves pretty badly.

“Which definitions should I google, Robbie?” Andy asks and takes out his fucking phone.

“Do it in your own fucking free time so you can check some porn and put Paul’s face on your computer screen.” I say and yank his phone out of his hands. Andy just makes a weird drunk noise, which I don’t properly distinguish and Johnny laughs with Paul. I put the phone besides me and Andy grabs for it, but puts it back in his pocket, somewhere deep down probably realizing how much he had annoyed me and that it should really be dropped.

Johnny still seems to be terribly curious about it, but all I can think of is that he would ask me that later and possibly I would talk to him about it, but not in front of Paul and Andy, who are terribly annoying and would drag me for it to the end of time. But he doesn’t speak up thankfully.

Andy instead of asking more dumb questions gets the glasses.

“Johnny, can I open the vodka?” That’s it, we’ll be far more smashed and the questions should be even worse now. If we are able to fucking lift our heads from the floor, that is. Maybe we will all just sleep on Andy’ rug and that will be it really. That sounds like a very likely end to our terribly eventful evening.

“Of course. That’s why I brought it. I didn’t get IDed somehow at the end of the day.” Johnny confesses and we all just stare at him in pure awe. Well, he does look older than all of us actually look and I feel a bit jealous I would always get caught, so I would just nick something from my parents instead besides one time. But that’s because I had known the guy and it was close to Christmas, so he told me that I could get away with it. I had jerked off to him to, thinking that he would have asked me for a blow job if he wasn’t so shy. But that was just wishful thinking and soon enough he moved to the city and we never really followed up, probably hooked up plenty with ladies or whatever.

“Lucky.” And I stretch the y as I say it to Johnny and he just shrugs, smiling. He always fucking sAndy. I could kiss him if he didn’t claim to be so straight. Andy just grins and pours everyone some vodka into the glasses with flowers on them, as if they are going to make drinking more innocent than it already is.

We all don’t toast, we just continue drinking, everyone at their pace, I usually drink it like shots, feeling my head fully give up on me by now, Johnny drinking it slowly and Andy and Paul mirroring each other by drinking it at a medium pace.

“Say, which websites do you guys check out when you’re horny?” Paul asks, completely hammered. For fuck’s sake. I just start recounting my money and looking at the streets I have collected so far, but we’re all losing to Johnny who already managed to grab those three streets with the same colour.

“I just stick to pornhub and redtube and all the usual ones. I can’t say I’m too picky when I’m horny.” Johnny speaks up and I realize how loose he is due to the alcohol. It finally struck him and it’s awful because my mind goes to ask me if I would manage to squeeze out some questions from him and I’m sure the same thought goes through his head, because he keeps looking at me from the other side of the board.

“So what, I’m the only one who looks at bikini photos of girls in our class when I’m single?” Paul asks, pouting and looking around.

“You asked websites, you moron.” I laugh, looking at him and his lost expression on what he had actually done wrong or rather what he had asked wrong. Paul still looks at me as lost as ever, like a deer in the headlights. I continue laughing, as Andy just snorts and Johnny grins watching me thrash the poor fellow. “And that’s pretty damn gross and pretty predator… like of you.”

I’m so drunk.

“What’s wrong with doing that though?” Johnny pipes in. “I’ve done that to Heather before we started dating.”

Aha, she has a name. Heather.

“You’ve never done that?” Johnny asks me.

“When I figured out that I like Steven we were pretty much boning him by then.” I say.

“Who bones who…” Andy whines and leans to put his head on my lap. I shift uncomfortably, trying to shake him off, but his head remains on my lap a bit too close to my cock. I just ignore the drunkard I have as a friend. “Please tell. I’m dying from curiosity, I need to know where the cock goes.”

“Fuck off.” And I place my hand over his drunk mouth, as it’s my turn to roll the dice. I move the little battleship, a piece I’ve been using since I was a kid and whenever I change it, I always end up losing. I keep my hand there and I wish that Johnny would talk more, but then maybe I end up with all the body language and I’m so drunk that I can see him leaning over and kissing me.

–

Being gay during a sleepover with straight guys doesn’t always land as fun the entire time. I’ve had some odd conversations myself and before I knew who I was I’ve asked awkward questions, so it’s something which happens unfortunately.

Offside. Chapter 7

Paul opens the door.

“Hey, guys. Andy got too lazy to go downstairs and I lost at rock, paper and scissors. He’s already bored of your faces. You can leave.” He says and does a shooing motion with his hand and I just walk inside, past him and give him a light shove.

“Fuck off.” I say in my usual friendly mocking. I shouldn’t have stayed up all night playing Fifa, but then who am I to blame besides myself? Exactly, no one. I can’t even blame the players I had played against. Or maybe I’m just too tired of being single and miserable? Maybe I’m just too tired from life, from thinking about how everything will unfold and there is no happy button which gives you a time out, instead it just gets worse and worse.

“So what’s the wanker owner of the house up to?” I ask Paul as I kick off my boots, which I wonder if Johnny had even noticed, as Johnny follows me to take off his shoes.

“He’s just playing Fifa. We both were, but you interrupted us.” Paul says scratching his nose and I look at him, as he frankly always looks younger than the rest of the football team, maybe only Andy can compete at how young they both look.

“I would have never guessed that you wouldn’t think of something more original.” I mock him, as we all take the stairs to go upstairs to Andy’ room. Me and Johnny would have to sleep downstairs by the looks of it, I wouldn’t leave him alone for the sole reason that it’s not fun to be sleeping alone on the couch in a separate room at a sleeping over under any circumstances.

“So it’s what, sober Fifa and then whatever dumb shit we think of while being drunk off our tits?” I ask as soon as I wave at Andy, who doesn’t even bother to turn around to greet me and Johnny as he’s playing now someone online playing Sheffield Wednesday.

“Oh, man, you’re losing against Sheffield Wednesday.” Paul notes and Andy just proceeds to aggressively mash the buttons to try and make poor Liverpool score.

“Yeah, be my guest. Suck cocaine off my dick for all I care.” Andy says without emotion and staring concentrated on the screen. “I’ll be too drunk to care.”

“You have Paul’s cock for that. I think I’d leave you both for your casual 69.” I say and sit next to him on the rug, Paul and Johnny joining me.

“How exactly do you handle all the gay jokes?” Johnny asks Paul, who just shrugs and glances at Andy’ stash of alcohol which is frankly a bottle of whiskey he nicked from downstairs, I’m guessing.

“I’m used to them, just like Robbie is used to us being assholes about his sexuality or preference-”

“It’s not a preference.” I sigh.

“Yeah, true. I’m not into listening to you explaining how sexuality works on a sober head.” Paul says and just leans back on his hands. “Drunk? Maybe.”

“I’ve explained it to you plenty times and I don’t know why can’t everyone just accept that we’re all just born like the kinksters we are.” I say and decide to roll on my stomach. Johnny just looks at me instead of the telly.

“You’re really losing, Andy, it’s a fucking 4-0.” Paul winces for Andy.

“I fucking know, Turner. This wanker plays as if he’s Real Madrid and he’s going through with it. Asshole.” Andy replies. We all proceed to silently watch the second half of the match which is frankly Andy losing to a whooping 8-0 in the end. Paul pats him on the back, as Andy just groans.

“I should’ve friended the wanker and asked for a rematch.” Andy says putting the controller down.

“You would’ve lost, you moron.” I say and stretch my arms.

“Yeah, well, you play better than I do. You would’ve avenged my honor.” Andy says with a fist in the air and I just stare at my stupid friend. I try to remember if there are any lame games to even put on a livestream of, but I can’t think of any.

“Fuck off, I’m not playing for such a loser like you.” I say.

“Well, we’re all playing regardless.” Andy shrugs and turns to face me, grabbing the controller up in his hands again.

“Yeah, but I’ll be playing for myself rather than for you.” I confess, flipping off poor Andy again, who just flips back at me. Our behaviour will always emulate seven year-olds and somehow I wouldn’t want that to change, I would just prefer going on with this somehow but the clock is ticking and I can only feel the impending doom of ageing.

“Whatever. Who wants to play? I want a damn break from this devil possessed Sheffield Wednesday.” Andy winces and places the controller in Paul’s lap as he stands up to get the bottle of whiskey.

“I also brought some alcohol.” Johnny says opening up his backpack and revealing vodka. We all cheer pretty loudly, I wonder how is Andy’ mom okay with all of this. But then it’s better for us to drink ourselves with her knowing rather than Andy showing up smashed and that seems to be the notion of other parents as well, because their parents allowed alcohol as well. So it just becomes like an unwritten alcohol rule which goes generations down and I’m sure whoever lands with children will do the same thing unless they get burnt by alcohol in some way, but I highly doubt it, it’s usually being smashed and asking dumb questions with no filter whatsoever.

“Well, you chose Paul as your tribute. Johnny, you want to play Paul?” I offer the other controller to Johnny, since we should still put up a little facade for him to show that we’re actually nice guys or it could just be that I still have some faith in getting laid at least or anything which will make me far less lonely.

“Yeah, thanks.” He smiles at me and I wonder how many times does he actually smile for me. I’m surely going crazy and desperate but I would easily find something to obsess over because that’s how you can at least cure loneliness with a placebo effect. Paul plays Sheffield Wednesday just to spite off Andy, who complains that the team is cursed forever now since they managed to whoop him with his Liverpool. Johnny takes Real Madrid which doesn’t really piss me off, but I make a face at it.

“What’s the issue with Real Madrid, Robbie?” He asks me, the match already started and kicking the ball around. Both Paul and Andy smirk because they know, because I’m terribly vocal about my choices of teams.

“Well, it has a star player, specifically Cristiano who can fucking shoot from the middle of the field and score. So frankly if you’re playing online against a twelve year old that’s all they’ll do and I’ll manage to lose simply because of that instead of having a fair game.” I whine and then I see Johnny trying to score from the middle of the field with Cristiano.

“Really, Johnny?” I ask him, but not touching him as he’s still playing, but I would shove him as well. My mind drifts to actually shoving him enough onto the floor and being on top of the pretty good looking guy.

“Yes. You whine too much then, what matter is that you win, really. All methods which are legal are allowed.” He says and tries to do it again, as Paul just remains quiet and probably silently praying that it hits the post or something. It does hit the bar, which causes Johnny to swear outloud, because frankly it was ridiculously close.

“What do you guys want to do later?” Andy asks yawning, probably staying all night jerking off Paul in his head.

“You were busy last night jerking off Paul in your mind, Andy?” I mock him and he just rolls his eyes at me, a joke I’ve said plenty times but which never ceases to amuse me. “That’s why you’re yawning, you kinkster?”

“I dunno. We haven’t properly played monopoly with all of us and we can drink as we do it. Then whatever drunk haze we’re in we will follow it.”

“Only no boarding the bus under influence and swimming to the middle of the fucking lake.” I whine.

“What the fuck happened last time?” Johnny laughs listening to me complaining.

“What you heard. We got to a lake and could barely swim back. I’m surprised we didn’t drown and managed to sneak out. It was dreadful. Both Andy and Paul were dragging me back swimming on their backs.” I say rubbing my eyes, remembering the disaster which was actually my idea and I had regretted it all summer and apologized plenty times because we frankly could’ve drowned so easily.

“Wow, sounds terribly thrilling, something I would gladly miss.” Johnny says passing the ball to Cristiano again and looking at me with a small mischievous smile. He presses the button to shoot and attempt a goal. I just show him my tongue as he does it and watches me.

But he’s clearly being far too friendly, right? How much friendliness is too much and is it wrong to think about it so often? He’s surely flirting in some odd way right? But then why did he claim that he was straight? Well, because he is straight. But what if he’s changing his mind. I look at Paul and Andy who if they would have picked it up they would have made a joke about it, but they haven’t yet so maybe I’m really out of luck and there is really nothing going on.

Andy watches our interaction and then once he notices that I look back at him, he looks away back to the television screen.

We all play for quite a good while, all sticking to our usual teams because we’re pretty stubborn in our choices and the way we play. It becomes really annoying to play against Johnny as he would just get the ball to Cristiano and just try to annoy me with it. I had the thought of just dropping the controller, because it was getting too annoying but I decided to keep doing the best I could and I ended up winning, which caused me to just lean back and fall back on the floor, flipping him off that I had managed somehow. Johnny patted my shoulder.

“You’re a better player here than you are a midfielder.” He smirks at me.

“Fuck off, Johnny.” I say. “And you’re a worse striker.”

“I never claimed to be anyone. While you’re full of ideas.” And he ruffles my hair, which I’m sure causes me to blush a bit from the sudden touch, but Johnny proceeds to ignore it. He’s far too touchy feely which I can’t really say makes me very uncomfortable, but which causes me to think a lot about why he’s doing that and how come my shitty friends aren’t really saying anything about it.

“Gay.” Paul says pointing to Johnny’s hand leaving my hair.

There it is. Everything is fine with the world, then. Johnny as if burnt turns around to look at Paul, who was busy playing Andy but left the goal to repeat itself to mock Andy’ loss.

“I’m not really gay.” He says in his defence.

“Yeah, well, you touched queer boy’s hair. It’s contagious. Last time I touched it I thought of sucking him off. Damn thing is too soft and gay. Stay a mile in radius away from him.” Paul tried to say that with a straight face and biting his lip in concentration while passing the damn ball.

“With you Paul, I’ll surely get a boyfriend so easily. You’re so smooth, I don’t even have to flirt. They’ll just end up riding me regardless because of what you’ll say.” I say before thinking much and looking at Johnny, who is caught looking between me and Paul, while Andy is just entertained and trying to beat Sheffield Wednesday’s next attempt to destroy him. “I’m not saying that Johnny is a candidate…”

I’m screwing over.

“I mean, you get what I mean.” And I lean back to reach Andy’ bed which has the alcohol. That would surely erase my embarrassment.

“Nope, all we know is that you want to screw Johnny apparently.” Andy says being a full blown wanker and I just try to avoid Johnny’s reading gaze as I just wait for Andy to look at me. But he’s too busy getting his ass handed to him by Paul so that I’m left glaring on my own and then I glance at Johnny, who now has resumed watching the game.

“Who wants a drink?” I ask, stretching to the bottle properly now and taking it in my lap.

“Yeah, I’ll have some.” Johnny chips in, turning around to face me along with the bottle.

“I know Johnny, it’s fucking hard to know that Robbie wants to bone you.” Andy says, still concentrated on the screen and now pretty much nagging that his football players aren’t doing well and that he is going to sack them all.

“Fuck off.” I say before Johnny can even say anything.

–

I remember I just kept writing and writing dialogue, really taken over by the story and everything new that came with it. I’ve had touchy friends, which some things happened and some didn’t, but looking back maybe that’s where I got that from. Crushes are a weird thing because you’ve got to assess what’s going on and what will you do in return as well.

I just keep writing on about this gay football player of mine, so I can’t even spoil the ending until I’ve put it to paper. But soon, soon.

Offside. Chapter 6

I feel terribly curious about his dating history and I look as if I want to ask something, so Johnny just stares at me just as curiously as I do. I know they broke up because she didn’t want long distance, but was there any other reason? What’s Johnny’s sexuality as well? How weird would it actually be if I piped up about that? That would surely be regarded as coming on to him.

“What?” He asks and I just shake my head.

“Nothing, just thinking.” I confess, shrugging. I can’t ask him if he’s actually queer in any way. That wouldn’t explain him staring at me after everyone called me queer.

“You do realize you can ask what’s on your mind.” Johnny speaks up.

“I know, only I don’t like being too nosy.” I lie. I am a nosy fuck and I would even ask the most gruesome details about the other guy’s sex life while I was still figuring out my own sexuality and trying to understand how come I never really get too attracted to other girls, but I would still listen to their sex stories, finding out what kind of teenage horny shit they were into by literally just slipping it as if it were a usual point of conversation, like oh she chocked me pretty damn well.

“You either gossip or you’re nosy, there’s nothing in between.” I laugh at his sudden remark.

“You just made that up.” I stop laughing just to say that and resume.

“I have to get you to speak somehow, Robbie.” Johnny smiles back at me. Please tell me he’s somehow queer because he’s lovely.

“I’m not really going to ask any nosy questions.” I admit, preferring to break down from just knowing it later than knowing something now so early and have all my dreams get crashed to smithereens. And that can wait for ever and ever, well at least until I get a boyfriend then I won’t really care if Johnny was gay or not. But then if he was actually queer, I’d be bummed out that I never asked or made a move.

“Come on. I’ll think of something nosy to ask you as well.” Johnny says and I think that I can’t really ask some bullshit like what music is he into, because I know what bands he likes and what movies he watched when he was like 12.

“You don’t even have a nosy question?” I smirk at him and Johnny just mockingly looks away.

“Of course I fucking do.” Johnny smirks back. I take a deep breath, here goes nothing.

“What’s your sexuality?” I ask with a really big pause in the beginning and I feel my heart shatter as I ask him that and I expect something disrespectful from him actually. Instead Johnny looks a bit surprised by the question even if he was most likely expecting it, but it’s another thing when you actually hear it and it’s been asked.

“I’m straight. Sorry.” He smiles at me a bit sadly.

Sorry.

Why sorry?

“Why sorry?” I ask a bit surprised and I look at him, a bit dazzled by the answer and not really focusing on the fact that he’s actually straight even if my heart sank properly and got buried in a funeral after being fished out of the lake where it committed suicide.

“Oh, just saying that really.” Johnny shrugs, trying not to pay much attention to his own words, as if it’s really nothing but it’s not. Of course he’s apologizing for something, does he feel bad for not being interested in me? I can’t really not have my mind race from the fact that he is actually straight, which makes all my luck go out of the window. But then I guess he does look terribly straight and it’s not like I was kidding myself with too much hope anyway. But that just puts me back into the relying on the bad dating apps which frankly will go nowhere still. What if it’s one of those apologies were one is sad that he isn’t attracted or is and can’t really feel too attracted enough to date? Why can’t I be some sort of exception? But then I wouldn’t be thrilled if a girl flirted with me like they do, just hoping that somehow I would have some wiggle room for them. I should put myself in his shoes. But I’m terribly nice. I wouldn’t use him as a fleshlight.

I try to hold a long sigh, so I yawn instead which takes him a bit by surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep too well the past night.” Lies, I stayed up playing Fifa for no good reason and cursing at the television, which would have been disastrous if I had an Xbox, but thankfully I don’t.

Johnny looks at me knowing that I’m really just bullshitting and pretty damn heartbroken because it’s been quite a while since Steven, but everyone still talks about it because we were the gay couple from the town so we were a big deal to gossip about, I guess. Possibly because we won’t really get other queer guys to mate up with me. I even tried the LGBT groups in the city nearby and they weren’t too thrilling with everyone on the hunt and knowing that no one is really your type and that everyone just goes to regret and remind themselves of how lonely they are.

“Well, the curiosity is out of the way, at least.” Johnny smiles at me and I just feel like I’m stabbed with a dagger, because he’s good-looking, nice and what else could I possibly even ask in a guy? if you get too picky you won’t get anyone at all.

“What’s your nosy question then?” I ask him curiously. Johnny just shrugs.

“I wanted to ask your orientation, but then I remembered that you were called gay, so I figured that… you are gay.” He says.

“That’s a repeat of my question, though.” I smirk at him, nudging him to ask something else.

“Okay, okay, fine.” Johnny thinks for a while and I’m sure he has a question stored up his sleeve, or perhaps many questions and is choosing the least risqué one. We’re nearly arriving and I start feeling sad that we can’t really continue asking each other twenty questions even if I know that he’s pretty straight and uninterested. “Did you and your ex have sex?”

I blink at his straightforward question.

“Of course we did. We’re just like any other couple. Didn’t you fuck with your girlfriend?” I say, a bit taken back, but taking the question regardless.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s kind of… different.” He’s surely aggressively straight by saying that.

“Not really, it’s still sex.” I shrug. “It’s really still… fucking.”

“I guess you’re right.” And he pats me on the head. He’s way too fucking tall for his own good. I smirk and press the stop button so that we can get off on the next stop and actually be on time for Andy’ party. Paul would’ve taken another bus, so there’s no way we would run into him now and knowing Paul he most likely arrived early to help Andy clean up and whatnot. I wonder how his mom handles all of these guys sleeping over all the time. But she’s lovely.

We get off on the stop, after Johnny realizes that we will have to shelf our desperately close and intrusive conversation until next time, which also makes me terribly sad because I would simply love to hear him talk more even if it’s about his girlfriend and what they had done to each other.

I keep looking at him as we walk towards Andy’ house.

“What, no more curious questions?” Johnny smiles at me curiously and I wonder how the fuck is he even straight at the same time or do I just flirt with everyone up to the point that people don’t see the desperate difference anymore? Is this how everyone talks? But then technically you can easily take anything as flirting easily. Mocking with Andy? Flirting. Asking Johnny if he’s queer? Flirting. Everything is flirting. I feel like I don’t even know the difference anymore and is that a good thing? Is that moving forwards or just swimming through life in the river’s direction? What would the river’s direction be anyway? Would it be just staying in bed until decay starts?

“No, I’ve got plenty and I’m sure we’ll get hammered enough to ask even more risqué questions.” I grin at him, wondering way too much about him.

“You sound as if all of you play spin the bottle when you get wasted.” Johnny wiggles his eyebrows as he says it.

“I’m sure Andy and Paul will do that later.” I assume him, nodding.

“But are they really gay?” Johnny asks carefully, as if he would be entering a lion’s den.

“No, no.” I laugh. “I just mock them because they’re really really close friends and I kind of don’t really believe in such a friendship even if it’s right in front of me. I still think one day Andy will just approach me and tell me he sucked off Paul drunk or something.”

“I doubt they will, though.” Johnny thinks. “They’re just friends.”

“Wanna bet?” I smirk at him and stretch out my hand. Johnny takes the bet. I keep grinning and I think of what can I even bet with him.

“If you win you get to kiss me.” I stare at him wide eyed and he bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

“Fuck you.” I say and flip him off. “You’re playing on the fact that I’m currently single and that’s too much pain to bear.”

“I know, I know. But I’m single too and lonely.” He keeps on laughing. I wonder how lonely he actually is, does he miss his girlfriend or did he manage to get over her and wonder what is there that lays beyond for him? I really do think a lot about him, but that’s because I frankly developed a crush on the tall striker, because I’m really desperate and there is no one to crush on. “But you should’ve seen your fucking face.”

I just glare at him, not really knowing what to say because I’ve already told him to go fuck himself and I’ve flipped him off as well. My mind just goes blank on all the insults that I don’t really know what else to tell him and we’re approaching the house soon anyway.

“What happens if you win?” I ask him and Johnny ponders for a brief moment, fixing his curls from his dark eyes.

“I haven’t really decided, actually. We can both just try to win and humiliate the other in any way we please really.” He says and I wish he would have hint some sort of glint in his eyes, but instead he doesn’t really plan anything and there is nothing mischievous or sadly sexual. He’s not interested me in that way, so why would I even get my hopes up?

“Deal.” And now we finally shake hands and let go, I think of his handshake briefly because it’s the most human contact that I have gotten in a while. We arrive at Andy’ rather big house, which is frankly so usual that I don’t flinch but Johnny looks at it a bit unused, but I’m sure his is just as big as anyone else’s really since we’re rather far out from anything and it just so happens that everyone has inherited or bought big houses. I knock on the door, just because Johnny is here because otherwise I would have just barged in and even opened the bathroom door and told Andy to cover himself up with a towel from the shower. But instead I pretend to be polite.

–

I actually found out that there is a gay football player in LA Galaxy and that’s actually pretty cool! I kind of tend to write less conversations while this story seems to be filled with them and it’s what the story stands on. Also, this story has a bunch of firsts for me.