Date: Sun, 24 Jun 2001 19:57:22 -0700 (PDT)
From: Opengoal <opengoal@excite.com>
Subject: 'Road to World Cup' {Opengoal} (Celeb) [6/?]

Road to World Cup

Chapter 1f

Warning: This story is fictional and does not imply anything about the
football players depicted.



Thieves Like Us

1.8

It was the first time Michael had had a decent sleep since he'd been
in the England training camp. A good fuck is the best stress reliever.
Did he learn it off Macca? Michael didn't remember. But last night's
was a hell of a fuck and he sure did slump to the soundest slumber
he'd ever had.

Michael didn't know for how long Steve had been shaking his shoulder,
trying to wake him up. But he was determined not to get up. He just
kept lying there on his side, pretending he was asleep. Steve gave up
at last and lay back behind him, throwing his arm across Michael's
chest.

Michael wondered whether Steve had fallen back into sleep. Steve must
be as tired as he was, if not more. But Michael was not complaining.
In fact, he loved it. Ironically it helped him to concentrate on his
game, because now he would only have two things on his mind: the
match and the tiredness. Everything else paled in comparison.

Michael didn't know he missed getting fucked until the last time
Macca came around his house.

Macca was the first man in his life. Before that, his own idea of sex
had never included getting fucked in the arse. Even with Macca, they
didn't go that far in their first few times together. But Macca
convinced him that he should try everything at least once. Besides,
if you couldn't be wild in your most private life, when were you ever
gonna get wild?

Their first time was after the farewell do sending Macca off to Real
Madrid. That wasn't a very good experience and they thought they were
finished with this idea. But when they met again later, they gave it
another try. And then another...

The sex was getting better and better each time. Probably because they
were seeing each other less. They tried to make the most of the time
they could actually spend together - stolen time from the demands of
the hectic football schedule and their respective girlfriends.

But the strain of finding time together finally got to them. Last time
really did felt like it was their last time together, although neither
of them said so.

Every time Michael thought back to it, he was gripped by the feeling
of loss again. Especially because they actually didn't get to finish
that last time. They were right in the middle of it when they heard
his girlfriend's car coming.

Maybe his girlfriend knew. Maybe she didn't. Anyway, they didn't talk
about it. And there was nothing to be talked about now.

He thought it would be easy to get over Macca. He didn't love Macca,
at least not that way. And he'd got a lovely girlfriend. But the more
he fucked her, the more he felt an emptiness aching to be filled.

He could have any girl he liked, but he didn't know where to find guys
he could trust.

And he had his perfectly wholesome image to protect.

Then came this England training camp. It couldn't have been clearer
that it was over between Macca and him. Macca didn't even want to see
him in private. And his pride wouldn't allow him to confront Macca. He
refused to think why he wasn't worth the fuss anymore. He just knew he
gotta move on too. But to where?

Then yesterday. He saw Macca playing with Graeme. No, Steve, of all
people, pointed them out to him.

And Steve, the self-proclaimed teenage sex machine, jumped him.

He wouldn't deny he had dreamt about hot, wild sex with Steve at
times. Steve did't look half bad, what with his package and all.

But it gotta be his pent-up frustration talking when he told Steve
to fuck him.

True, the fuck was great, wild, really the best fucking stress
reliever in the whole wide world. Except...

Except when he thought about the consequences now.

He was bottom. Twice. And begging.

Wouldn't look good at all if anyone got to know this.

He needed to think. Fast. Had he got anything over Steve? Could he
trust Steve not to tell anyone? Why could he ever trust Steve again
after what he did last night?

Michael slid back into his mental armour. The one thing he did best
was to keep his cool, even at the most difficult of times. Yesterday
was just an aberration which he was determined not to repeat itself.

Although Steve knew they'd better get up now, deep down he wanted to
stay in bed too. Not because he was tired, which he was, but because
he didn't want to move away from Michael's skin.

Amidst Michael's hypnotising steady breathing, Steve finally
surrendered to his emotions and kissed Michael on his nape.

Michael was stunned but he didn't let it show. He needed to think and
he needed to keep tabs on what Steve was doing. But he also got to
relax if he didn't want Steve to know what he was doing.

He could feel clearly that Steve had climbed carefully out of bed.
Maybe it was time for Michael to lower his guard a bit. Michael waited
for a couple of seconds for the coast to clear. Judged from Steve's
habits, Michael gathered that Steve must be some distance away now.

He was about to open his eyes when he heard Steve say: "What's
happening to me now?"

Michael could tell Steve was by the bed (probably all the time) right
in front of his face. He was glad he hadn't opened his eyes but he was
almost too surprised to keep pretending he was asleep. He thanked God
that he actually managed it.

Finally, he felt Steve moved away.

But still, he waited until he heard the sound of the shower before
opening his eyes.



1.9

Macca was standing outside when Rio opened the door. Rio raised an
eyebrow and got out of the way.

Macca wondered how much Rio knew, but now was not the time to think
about that. He had got to see Joe.

He could smell the scent of shampoo on Joe's half dried hair. Fresh
and sweet, Joe looked even cuter than usual. All his doubts, questions
and fears, and Graeme's advice were soon forgotten. He almost forgot
why he was there too. But the steel coldness that suddenly appeared in
Joe's eyes reminded him just in time.

"I was looking for you the whole night."

"Did you?" Joe said in a most casual tone. Not as much as a sneer, but
definitely sounded like he didn't care.

Macca moved closer. "I kept calling you, left messages on your mobile,
but you never answered."

"What, You expect me to be there whenever you need me?" Another cold
reply. It was obvious Joe was hurting but he tried to calm himself.
"Sorry, Macca, but..."

"Are you still mad at me?" Now right in front of Joe, Macca reached
out his arms.

Joe didn't know why he allowed Macca's arms to wrap around him. In his
arms he felt like home. It was the warmth he longed for, the scent he
dreamt about, and the tenderness that he couldn't resist. Macca began
gently caressing his back. Joe knew that if Macca kept on doing that,
he simply wouldn't be able to say this:

"Look, Macca, I've been thinking for the whole night..."

He pushed Macca away a little, his eyes avoiding Macca's, "I've got to
stop seeing you for a while."

Macca was speechless for a second or so. Joe didn't speak or move,
either, his hands still on Macca's chest.

"Joey," Macca ran his hand down the back of Joe's head, so that Joe
slightly lifted his head and their eyes met.

The world suddenly didn't seem to exist anymore.

They moved closer without being aware of their movements themselves.
Their lips touched tentatively, tenderly, before their kiss turned
into a passionate 'war of tongues'. Macca's hands lingered around
Joe's round buttocks, squeezing and rubbing at them. It was obvious
Joe was getting hard.

Pausing to catch their breath, Macca asked, "Would you come to
breakfast with me?"

"You know why I can't go downstairs now."

Macca grinned and sank to his knees, pulling both Joe's jogging bottom
and brief down. Joe's cock sprang up into the air. Macca couldn't help
but give it a kiss.

Joe was overjoyed Macca seemed to like him so much. He ran his fingers
in Macca's light brown hair, wishing Macca knew how much he had fallen
in love with him.

Cupping Joe's balls with one hand, Macca gently licked along the
underside of Joe's hard cock. Macca just loved to hear Joe moan. Macca
was feeling playful now but he knew they didn't have time.

He flicked his moistened tongued over the tip of Joe's cock, then
closed his lips around the head and slid it into his warm, hungry
mouth. Joe's panting was music to his ear.

He kept on licking and tapping around the engorged rim of the head. It
didn't take long to bring Joe to climax.

Retaining the come in his mouth, Macca kissed Joe tenderly, feeding
some back to Joe. Joe's smile of contentment was reflected on Macca's
face. They looked at each other with that warm glow in their eyes, and
kissed some more.

Joe didn't want much. He just wanted what everybody else had. He just
wanted to love and date like everybody else.



1.10

Staring at the ceiling, Michael had been thinking, built several worst
case scenarios in his head, yet he couldn't quite guess what was
going on in Steve's mind. Resorting to his tried and trusted way at
dealing with uncertainty, he steeled up his mind, determined to put on
his act just as normal.

Sound of the bathroom door opening. Steve came out of the shower much
quicker than usual.

Michael threw a glance at that direction. He had wanted to observe
Steve to find out where they stood, but he almost withdrew his glance
immediately when it met Steve. The towel Steve was drying his hair
with was the only bit of fabric on him.

Michael's throat went dry. Tearing his glance from Steve, he told
himself this was not happening again.

He heard the shuffling of clothes and before he could think, Steve
appeared right before him, smiling. Michael wasn't sure why Steve gave
him such a warm and sweet smile but he returned it.

"Get up!" Steve sat on the edge of the bed and touched Michael's arm.
"Time for breakfast."

Although they used to touch each other all the time, Michael almost
blushed at this touch. Still he managed to sound normal. "Go without
me. I want to sleep some more."

"Don't you need to eat?" Steve asked, still smiling. Steve did seem to
be smiling an awful lot more today.

Michael just frowned and pulled a face.

"Come on. Come down to the restaurant with me. The lads are waiting."
Steve pretended to pull him up, then almost pleaded with him.

Tired with Steve's insistence, Michael said, "I don't feel like
sitting down today."

The look on Steve's face changed, like it suddenly dawned on him that
this had got to be *the* reason. He immediately disappeared, however
not towards the door but towards the phone.

Although Michael was no closer to understanding Steve, he was glad to
regain some breathing space. His eyes almost popped out when he
overheard what Steve was doing.

"Got it all sorted out. Breakfast in bed." Steve returned to the bed
in no time.

Michael sat up. The sheet now only just covered his most delicate
parts. "Er, Steve, I was only saying that. I didn't mean I REALLY
can't get out of bed."

"Well, it's done. so it's done." Steve looked a bit¡K disappointed(?)
but his face soon lit up. "Anyway, it's not a bad idea, is it?"

Michael smiled. He thought so himself, too.

Then he noticed Steve's gaze upon his bare skin, which was beginning
to show goosebumps because of the cool air. He could feel the heat of
the fire burning inside Steve. It looked like Steve would pounce on
him anytime now. This didn't feel like a bad idea, either. But the
rational side of him won over. He gotta ask that question he'd
prepared for so long.

"About last night¡K"

"Yes, we've got to talk about it. And sooner rather later." Steve
paused. Michael thought it was the cue for him to start but then
Steve continued. "There's one thing I've got to know."

Michael was puzzled. "Just ask."

Steve swallowed. "Have you taken anything last night?"

"Taken what? You mean drugs?"

"Yeah. Have you?" Steve was serious.

Michael couldn't believe Steve thought he would be stupid enough to do
that before such an important match. He laughed and asked Steve back,
"Have you?"

"Hell, no!"

To say Steve was relieved was a massive understatement. He grabbed
Michael's head and kissed him deep and full. His hands wandered down,
slowly and lovingly, mapping out all the curves and plains of
Michael's body in his mind. His right hand found Michael's cock with
ease, gently feeling its soft, velvety skin as if appreciating some
work of art.

Steve loved him?! - Michael still found it hard to digest. He'd never
seen Steve so tender before. He didn't really know what to feel about
it. Was it just because of last night? Why couldn't everybody take
things easy like Macca? Shit, he didn't think he knew anything any
more. He only knew Steve had made him hard again.

Steve paused the kiss to take a good look at his new love, his hand
unconsciously keeping up his steady strokes on Michael's erection.
Captivated by Michael's beauty, Steve was slow to notice the flicker of
uncertainty in Michael's eyes. Somehow it only made him, exposed as he
already was, look even more vulnerable. Steve couldn't help desiring
him more.

"I'm a bit scared too." Steve said. "But when I look at you today, I
just know this has got to be it."

Michael felt cold sweat in his mind.

Steve leaned in again, smothering him with kisses. Michael liked that.
He also liked being loved. But to be boyfriends¡K

He returned the kiss when Steve's lips roamed back to his lips, as if
his body was now thinking for him. Was that the answer?

Just then the breakfast arrived.

Steve took care of everything, making sure that the hotel staff didn't
suspect anything and that this would be settled privately without the
England officials knowing anything.

He took the food to bed. They felt somewhat awkward again, as though
they were back to square one. And it seemed Michael wanted to finish
his breakfast as fast as he could.

But Steve wouldn't let him. Too tempted by Michael to concentrate on
his food, Steve couldn't help but kiss him.

"Steve!" Michael tried to look angry, but it just seemed to encourage
him.

Steve now ran both of his hands on Michael's body.

"We're going to make a real mess - "

Steve stopped Michael's protest with a kiss. "You're right, Michael.
We don't want to waste our food here."

Picking up the toast Michael was stopped from finishing, he began
feeding him.



1.11

Joe started to believe this was the best day of his life. Macca actually
held his hand under the breakfast table!

Sure it was just a brief moment¡K several brief moments¡K but they were
pure bliss. And Macca was trying to involve him in everything he did
with the other lads. Robbie seemed to have taken the hint and took him
under his wings too.

Everybody noticed Joe's perpetual grin today. (Joe was never very good
at hiding his emotions.) However, they just dismissed it as the stupid
optimism of kids - They thought Joe believed he would start in the big
match. Despite all the media hype and despite what they saw in
training, they still wouldn't believe Keegan would gamble on someone
so green. There was, of course, that niggling fear but they didn't want
to acknowledge it.

Were Joe not so absorbed in his relationship with Macca, he would have
noticed the tension in the camp. They had only two days left to
prepare for the match against Germany. Everyone, except those lucky
few, was anxious to impress in training. However, giving 100% was
exactly what Joe did every day, so he wasn't really aware of the
difference.

There was something Joe didn't miss, though. Steve seemed to have
injured himself somehow during the warm-up. Joe didn't quite see what
was wrong with him but Michael, who was right by Steve's side, looked
seriously concerned, so it gotta be something major. That didn't really
mattered to Joe, except that there seemed to be one less midfielder
competing for places.

After training, Macca brought Joe to his room. Joe didn't like staying
indoors but only indoors where the others wouldn't see could they be
alone with each other.

As soon as they closed the door, their lips stuck to each other like
two magnets that could not be separated. They couldn't even wait until
they were further away from the door.

When Macca broke the kiss and moved inside the room, Joe thought Macca
was 'getting ready'. So Joe followed and started taking off his shirt.

To his surprise, Macca was only setting up the Playstation. Joe put
his shirt back on at once, but Macca was laughing at him already.
Joe glared at him. Macca tried to control his laughter and asked him
tenderly. "How about we just hang out for the rest of today?"

Joe couldn't believe his ears. "You mean¡K"

"Yeah, just you and me, doing things, getting to know each other like.
How about that? Well, if you don't want¡K"

Joe covered Macca's mouth with his hand and stopped him in mid-
sentence. "I love you, Macca."

Macca playfully licked Joe's palm and then their lips melted together
in a slow, tender kiss. Joe wished every day would be like today.

Picking out a football game almost randomly, they settled down in
front of the TV, with Joe sitting between Macca's legs. They fought
and laughed and talked about meaningless stuffs. Joe nudged Macca when
Macca slagged off his team. Macca squeezed Joe when Joe celebrated too
excitedly at his victories. When they were not play-fighting, Joe kept
asking Macca questions. He wanted to know everything about Macca,
though Macca seriously doubted how much Joe would remember in the end.

"And what food you like?" Joe asked.

"Chocolate."

"No way. You're all bones."

"You're only saying this because you've got a fat arse."

"Thought you said my arse was cute the other night." Joe wriggled his
butt against Macca's crotch and got exactly the response he desired.
Macca's hard-on was unmistakable.

Macca dropped his joystick and pulled Joe close. Joe thought they
would start making out but Macca actually started choking him.

When it looked like Joe was really hurting, Macca loosened his hold.
Joe turned around and stared daggers at him, before pushing him to the
floor.

"Fat arse, huh?" Joe sat on Macca's crotch, grinding.

"Thought you wanted to hold it for a while."

"What makes you think otherwise?" Joe slid his butt up Macca's
stomach. His lips moved towards Macca's, coming agonisingly close but
then moved away without touching them.

"Tease." Macca began tickling Joe as soon as Joe sat up straight,

Joe writhed and backed away from him but he sat up and came after Joe.
It almost broke into a chase when the door suddenly flung open. It was
Robbie.

Robbie made his displeasure clear as soon as he saw the state of his
playstation now. Macca disentangled Joe from one of the cables. The
pair of them just laughed like two naughty boys who knew they could
get away with it even though they were caught. Shaking his head,
Robbie could not but laugh too.

At dinner, Macca and Joe still acted like old chums. Until Macca's
mobile rang.

Joe caught a glance at the caller ID. But that was hardly necessary
for guessing the caller. Everybody knew almost immediately that it was
Macca's girlfriend Victoria, because Macca was talking to her as
though there were only the two of them there. Joe didn't hate her. He
knew from day one that Macca had got a girlfriend. He just felt numb.
There was no chance he and Macca could be like that. Victoria or no
Victoria, they could never go public.

Macca squeezed Joe's hand immediately after hanging up the phone. Joe
couldn't help but laugh again when Macca started cracking jokes, just
for him.



1.12

Having stared at the words on the book for a whole minute, and not
registering anything in his mind, Graeme put down his book. His mind
kept drifting away to Joe and Macca's display of affection for each
other.

He sighed and lay back down.

Looking at the family photo in his wallet, he toyed with the idea of
calling home. He stopped just before pushing the dial button.
Somehow this didn't feel right.

Maybe he had just stayed in the room for too long. Maybe he just
needed to get out of there, he thought.

Never acted on impulse like this before, Graeme almost slammed open
the door. What surprised him more than the itch in his heart was
Gareth Barry, who was standing right there in front of the door.

It looked like Barry had come there for some reason but was going to
leave without even knocking on the door. This had got to be something,
otherwise Barry wouldn't have blushed.

"You looking for Wisey or me?"

"Er¡K are you going out?"

"No. Not really."

Barry looked at the sweatshirt and shorts Graeme had on. He surely
didn't look like he was leaving the hotel.

They sat on Graeme's bed and talked. Barry was apparently asking for
some advice for the Germany match, and Southgate was apparently
already asleep. But that couldn't have been the sole or real reason
Barry had come to him for.

Anyway, Graeme didn't really care. Barry was a joy to look at. Still
just nineteen, Barry was six feet tall and 174 pounds of muscles
carved in elegant curves - His pair of big round globes made you just
want to grope them and mould them the minute you saw them. Apart from
his lovely body, Barry was also blessed with a quietly handsome face
(a rarity in football) and a kind of composure beyond his tender age.

If Graeme had not been horny before that, he was now. Caressing
Barry's soft white skin in his mind, Graeme was happy to let the
meaningless conversation go on like that.

But as it dragged on, it seemed the conversation was going nowhere,
and Wisey could be back soon.

"You haven't really come here to seek my advice. Right?" Graeme asked.

Barry was stunned but somehow also relieved because Graeme seemed so
okay with it. "You're right. I've, like, thought about it for so long
now. It's just, I've wanted to ask you this¡K Are you gay?"

Graeme could see that teenager-seeking-relationship-advice look on
Barry's face. Since when had he become agony aunt?!

But he would answer him, alright.

"No." Graeme paused, noting the unease on Barry's face. "Not 100% gay."

Barry's face lit up as soon as he heard the latter part of Graeme's
answer.

Graeme didn't know what sort of advice he could give Barry. After all,
he was married with children.

He was still thinking about that when he felt a hand on his lap.
Surprised, he lifted his head. He saw Barry eyes beckoning him with
desire.

They got into a liplock even before they could think about whether
this was an appropriate time or place. It was the first time Barry had
ever kissed a guy. He had thought about this would feel but he could
not believe this was coming true. It just felt so good to taste
another guy's lips, to hold another guy and to be wrapped in his
strong arms too. And what's more, he could feel they were driven by
the same intense need.

When Barry sucked lightly on Graeme's invading tongue, Graeme felt a
surge in his groin, and a desperate need to be touched. His silent
call was immediately answered as Barry laid a hand on his bulge. With
Barry gently rubbing him through his shorts, Graeme was finding his
brief more and more oppressive.

Still looking gentle as always, Barry pushed Graeme onto the bed. He
grabbed the waistbands of Graeme's shorts and pants, and pulled both
off at one go. His own heart's pounding was almost the only thing
Barry could hear. Graeme's cock sprang straight up right before his
eyes. If he hadn't been sure he wanted to do this before, he knew now
there was no way back.

Graeme spread his legs when Barry's hand travelled slowly up his inner
thigh. Barry knelt by the bed between Graeme's legs. Graeme really
smelt quite fine. Encasing Graeme's cock ever so lightly in his hand,
almost like he was afraid he could break it, Barry flicked his tongue
over the head, tasting the drop of precum formed at the tip.

Barry's mind was still racing but he felt bolder now. Slowly stroking
Graeme's cock, he said, "I've never done this before. You'll teach me
how?"

Before Graeme could answer, Barry had already closed his lips around
the head and slid it into his hot, moist cavity.

"Yeah." Graeme's word came out blurred in the midst of the husky sound
escaping from his mouth.

Barry seemed to do just fine, always careful to shield his teeth.
Wrapping his lips firmly around Graeme's cock, he moved eagerly up and
down, twirling his tongue around the head when he went up. All the
while, he kept stroking Graeme's shaft with one hand while fondling
Graeme's thigh, abs and side with his other hand.

Graeme ran his hands over Barry's arms in appreciative caresses. With
Graeme's heavy breathing, Barry's own need grew. Barry wanted to touch
himself so badly, but he wanted even more to please. He wanted to be
good at it. Graeme let out a moan when he played with Graeme's balls.
Graeme's responses turned him on so much that he almost felt like it
him who was being stimulated.

Picking up their speed, Barry's lips were now brushing the rim of
Graeme's cockhead in short, fast strokes. Graeme was getting close and
he was rocking his hips in rhythm with Barry's strokes,

Barry could see it coming. He could feel that pulsing in Graeme's
cock, the little spasm in his body and then he shot. Graeme's come was
inside his mouth now. It didn't taste much but he just felt great. He
was so excited to see Graeme come that he didn't know when he had
slipped a hand down to fondle himself through his shorts.

"How was it?"

"Brilliant." Graeme sat up and pulled Barry up towards the bed. His
eyes were saying 'your turn now'.

Graeme rolled Barry onto his back and pushed his sweatshirt up, his
own legs spreading Barry's legs apart. It was not just Barry's cock
that was erect, his cherry-like nipples were already standing up even
before Graeme ran his tongue over them.

Graeme sucked on the delicious cherries one after the other. Barry
moaned at the suction. He seemed to be really sensitive there.
Graeme's tongue ran a wet trail down from Barry's heart to just above
his waistband. He then moved a step back and yanked down Barry's pants.

Graeme didn't know whether it was Barry's smooth, strong thighs or his
straining cock he wanted to touch first. Grabbing the long shaft with
one hand, Graeme ran his other hand over Barry's thigh. Graeme then
started licking Barry from one of his balls up to the very tip of his
cock. He did it again and then licked it up the other ball, just like
licking a lollipop.

Barry begged Graeme to suck him. But Graeme just said, "Not so soon."

Spreading Barry's legs further apart, Graeme slid his tongue down to
the bit of skin just under Barry's balls, pressed it a bit, and then
ventured down to the opening of his hole. Barry was moaning at the
touch. Graeme then carefully slid a moistened finger into Barry's
hole. It seemed clean inside.

"Roll over." Graeme said.

Barry's usual composure was suddenly gone. "I don't - "

"Easy. I'm not going to fuck you."

"Okay."

Trusting Graeme, Barry rolled onto his stomach. His two large,
shapely buttocks bounced into view.

Graeme couldn't help giving them a good squeeze before gently
caressing and licking away the marks. Graeme had never seen a cuter
butt than Barry's.

Running his tongue down the trough between Barry's globes, Graeme
heard him let out a moan. Prying Barry's cheeks apart, Graeme stuck
his moistened tongue into the pink puckered hole and pushed it deep
inside. The warm, wet touch made Barry groan and lift his ass a bit.
Graeme pushed Barry down and twirled his tongue around the puckered
wall. Barry had never felt anything like this before. Although Graeme
was holding him steady, he still wriggled his ass a little, his cock
rubbing against the sheet.

Graeme slid his tongue out and moved down to Barry's ballsack. He then
went back up, pausing to give the area just between the sack and the
hole a good licking. Barry was breathing more and more heavily now.
Graeme began thrusting his tongue in and out of the delicate hole,
each time driving deep inside and digging around, lashing out sideways
and up and down. Suddenly, he felt Barry's balls tightened. Much as
they didn't want to, Barry had shot into the bed.

Graeme fetched a towel to wipe up the mess, which honestly didn't help
much. He let out an amused laugh and kissed Barry, who looked a bit
embarrassed gently. "Thanks." he said, and he looked like he meant it.

"It's me who should say thank." Barry said. His eyes seemed
to ask Graeme whether he was up for second round.

"We're pushing our luck today. Wisey could be back any time and we'd
be dead."

"How about a chat? I just need someone to talk to."



Steve left the training camp that night. Thigh strain. Few, apart from
Michael and Keegan, cared much about that.

Macca called Joe on his mobile after they returned to their respective
rooms. Carefully avoiding addressing each other with their names, they
talked freely despite the presence of their teammates. They even
kissed each other goodnight.



to be continued....

Opengoal
opengoal@excite.com
http://www.envy.nu/opengoal/england/
or http://dreamwater.net/opengoal/england/