Burchester Tales 5: Penalties and Pasta

Lee gets more than he bargained for when he watches Gus play football, in episode 5 of Burchester Tales.

Burchester Tales: Episode 5

Penalties and Pasta by H. Lewis-Foster

Lee was surprised how many people turned out to watch the history team play the maths department. The most enthusiastic supporters were the girls, cheering on boyfriends or unrequited objects of lust, but there were enough lads on the touchline to ensure Lee didn’t feel too conspicuous. The standard of football was remarkably high, with several decent attempts on goal and some impressive saves. Lee’s attention wasn’t entirely devoted to the action, however, as his eyes were largely fixed on the history team’s number eleven.

If Lee thought Gus looked gorgeous in his t-shirt and jeans, he was hot as hell in his scarlet football strip. His shoulders were impressively broad, his chest perfectly sculpted, while his muscular thighs left Lee physically short of breath. Lee tried to look like he was following the game, and hoped his less than pure thoughts weren’t reflected on his face.

When the referee blew his whistle for full time, Lee clapped along with the other spectators, as the players jogged off the pitch. Throughout the match, Gus had barely glanced in Lee’s direction, but now his sporting efforts were done, he graced Lee with a smile which turned his knees to jelly.

“Lee! Thanks for coming. Sorry it wasn’t a more exciting match.”

“Not at all. I enjoyed it.” Lee was grateful his voice wasn’t trembling as much as his legs. “You played really well.”

“I don’t know about that.” Gus brushed his blond hair from his face, leaving a trace of mud on his temple. “I did give a penalty away.”

The penalty Gus had conceded was as clear a handball as Lee had seen, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “A harsh decision, I reckon.”

“Maybe you should referee our next match.” Gus grinned, and Lee’s stomach flipped excitedly. “So do you fancy coming for a post-match drink?”

The prospect of going to the pub with Gus and his sporty mates was daunting, but Lee couldn’t turn down the chance to spend more time with Gus, who suggested Lee go straight to the Captain’s Arms, while he showered and changed.

Sitting in the pub with his lemonade—he’d learnt his lesson from Saturday night—Lee couldn’t help imagining Gus in the changing room; steam rising from his glistening body, as he smoothed scented bubbles across his chest, then down his firm torso and on to his—

“Hi there.” A warm hand slapped down on Lee’s shoulder. “Hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

“Of course not.” Lee’s cheeks flushed with heat, as he saw Gus’s hair was still damp from the shower about which he’d been fantasising. “Where are we sitting?”

Gus looked a little confused. “I’m fine here, unless you want to move.”

“No, but I figured you’d want to sit with the rest of the team.” Lee looked around for other recently showered young men, but couldn’t see anyone he recognised.

“I’m afraid it’s just me. The others went to the Union bar.” A faint frown settled on Gus’s face. “Is this okay? I mean, if you’d rather have other people around…”

“It’s not that. I’d love to be alone with you.” Lee only realised how desperate he sounded, once the words were out of his mouth. “It just seems a bit wrong, you know, what with you having a boyfriend.” His explanation made Lee cringe even more. “Not that I think this is a date or anything. I mean I know it’s only a drink and you’re just being friendly and—”

“Let’s get a few things sorted out, shall we?” Gus smiled and sat down on the chair opposite Lee. “For a start off, I don’t have a boyfriend. It turns out Davy spent the summer screwing an American student named Carl, so my conscience is completely clear on that account. Secondly, this is whatever you want it to be. If you want a friendly drink, that’s fine, and if you want this to be a date, I’m more than happy with that, too.” Gus smiled again, and Lee was glad he was sitting down, or his wobbly knees might have crumpled completely. “I like you a lot, Lee, but I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want. We can be whatever you’re comfortable with. Friends, lovers, whatever you want.”

At that moment, Lee wanted to jump over the table, wrap his arms around Gus and kiss him till they both gasped for breath; but instead, he took a sip of lemonade and replied as calmly as he could, “Let’s have this drink, then see where we go from there.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” Gus stood up to go to the bar. “Can I get you another lemonade?”

Lee shook his head. He could have hugged Gus for not offering him a beer or other intoxicating drink, and he was equally chuffed when Gus returned with his own glass of orange juice. As they chatted about the football match and a hundred other things, the urge to touch Gus became almost unbearable, and Lee’s fingers drifted perilously close to Gus’s hand, to his arm, to his powerful thigh. He excused himself and went to the loo, where he splashed cold water on his face and told himself to get a grip.

When he got back to the table, Gus was on his feet and ready to leave. Lee’s heart sank right down to the beer-stained floor. He'd thought Gus was enjoying himself, but he’d clearly had enough of Lee’s company. Gus’s expression was decidedly uneasy.

“I’m really sorry, Lee, but I have to go home and get something to eat.”

“No worries.” Lee tried not to sound too disappointed. “You must be starving after your match.”

“Afraid so. I’m in serious need of pasta with artery-clogging amounts of cheese.” Gus blushed slightly, as he nodded towards the door. “You can come along if you like. I’m a bloody awful cook, but you’re welcome to join me.”

Lee’s mouth watered like he’d been invited to tea at the Ritz, but he attempted to play it cool. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“You haven’t tasted my cooking yet.” Chuckling, Gus headed for the door, and Lee followed him without another word. Then as soon as they stepped into the cool evening air, Lee did something quite inexplicable. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own, as it took Gus by the arm and drew him closer. Gus looked startled, but he didn’t pull away, and before Lee could talk himself out of it, he’d pressed his lips against Gus’s mouth.

As Gus’s lips parted softly and melted into his own, Lee’s mischievous hand curled round Gus’s waist. Gus didn’t flinch, but after a few heavenly seconds, he eased himself from Lee’s embrace. Silvery specks floated in front of Lee’s eyes, and he realised he hadn’t taken a breath since leaving the pub.

Gus smiled and sweet oxygen seeped into Lee’s body. Then Gus’s hand clasped reassuringly around Lee’s fingers, and he asked a question which needed no answer.

“Are you ready?”

© H. Lewis-Foster 2014. All rights reserved.