Date: Mon, 18 May 2020 22:49:08 +0000 From: writer guy Subject: Premiership Lads part 104: Training in Pairs I Part 104: Training in Pairs I In one hand, he held the phone to his ear, smiling at the familiar and comforting growl of his lover's voice; with the other, he angled the nozzle of the hose and doused the amateurish flower-beds of his new garden in water, rather enjoying the image of himself as a domesticated man who had a fucking clue about what to do with a plant. Really, watering the plants and faffing about with the different corners of this long rectangle behind the slightly grand new-build home was a really good way of slipping out of the house and indulging in short but precious phone calls with Harry Maguire. `It'll just be good to kick a ball,' Harry grunted, in an a voice so banal it was also bored; Luke loved that sound though, now, he loved the mundane things they shared with each other, tiny dull tokens of their closeness. `It will,' Shaw agreed readily, `at something other than the other end of my lawn, hah.' `Pairs will soon be groups too,' Maguire remarked. `Yup.' `Groups will be full team...' `Then matches,' Luke finished idly. `Before we know it.' `Post-match showers,' Harry said, twisting his voice into the uncharacteristic flirting that thrilled Luke even more, `and I get to see your arse on show for free.' `As if you normally pay for it,' Luke chuckled down the line, enjoying the clumsy seduction of the other man, enjoying himself as he dashed the cascade of his hose out across further colourful flowers. He glanced back towards the house, checking he still had this outdoor privacy to talk in a while longer. `You know what I mean,' Harry was saying. He could hear the blokey blush in his voice. `So, er, you got paired with young James, did you...?' `Indeed-` `Your best mate,' Harry teased, referencing Luke's recent interview. He'd been so flustered when asked for his best pal on the United squad that he'd been unable to coyly reference Maguire at all, and worse, Harry had been ribbing him for mentioning the fact he still missed Memphis Depay. Luke was comfortable enough to enjoy the undertone of very real jealousy, even now. `You know we get on well,' Luke said, `he's a good lad, Dan. Okay, you know you'd be my ideal training partner until we're back in work properly, but...' `You don't have to say the obvious,' Harry chuckled complacently, almost sounding as if he was touching himself as they spoke. Luke couldn't deny the little tremble in his shorts as he strolled on around the border, guilty glances to the back of the house and a new aggression to his watery blasting of the plants he couldn't name. `We both know who we would like to be working up a sweat with in the morning,' finished Harry, playful again. `Careful,' Luke said, holding back a giggle. `Yep, Dan James and I. God knows what mood he'll be in but will be nice to catch up.' He thought about the strained friendship they'd had at points, conscious of how much less comfortable the Wales player was with their early forays into alternative fun. Things had been good again between the two teammate pals before the season stalled, but Luke always felt like a few heated memories hung silently between them when they spoke. He knew Harry was wary of him for that reason. `Still be sulking, no doubt,' the United captain grumbled dismissively, though publicly Luke had seen him make great efforts to restore some good relationship with the speedy younger player. `Leave him alone,' Luke sighed. `And you? Who are you, ahem, gonna be playing with tomorrow?' `Scotty, you know that. And don't say playing like that...' `I'm just messing,' Shaw sniggered back at him, `although, maybe YOU'LL be messing... Haha, stop groaning. You know it's okay. We've worked it all out,' he added with almost prudish precision, letting the nozzle droop and dampen the grass at his bare toes. `Yes we have,' Harry agreed, but Luke thought he sounded self-conscious and awkward, which was funny because it was him who'd adventurously outlined the rules that early morning at their car park before the eager fuck in the loos, the last time they'd met there before deciding it was becoming too risky. Besides, the cross-Pennine journey was no longer needed, Maguire was back in Cheshire at his own home, family in place. `So,' Luke said, with a cautious peek back to the house and the flickering lights of movement downstairs, `if stuff DOES happen, well...' `With McTominay? I'm not sure that's very likely, even though... well, we both remember Marbella, ha ha...' `Scott's mouth is NOT what I remember about Marbella, Harry,' Luke said fondly. The back door was opening and he was about to be summoned in for a video call with his girlfriend's family, showing off the little one's growth spurt. He coughed and shifted his tone from idly romantic to brusque and casual. `But he'll be a good training partner for ya, Mr Six Pack, king of the 5k run, eh... just don't let him leave you for dust... Yep, I'll be there in one minute babe, just gimme a minute and...' `Crack goes the whip,' teased Maguire in a deliberately sensual purr. `Hmm,' Luke answered in the more laddish voice he needed when there was a chance of being overheard here, `yes, but I think we'll soon change YOUR nickname from Slabhead to Thumbhead, so...' He laughed gently down the phone, one eye on the back door swinging to, knowing he should hurry. `I best go, buddy.' `Yep,' Harry agreed. There was a sighing quiet between them on the phone, Luke Shaw standing in the twilight of his back garden and thinking just how long ago that last meet-up in the car park toilets felt, though it was barely over a week since he'd bent over and took it with squeals of early morning delight. Full training back at Old Trafford could not come soon enough. Both men held their tongues, never sure what goodbye words might feel right between them. `See you soon,' Maguire said with such forceful disinterest that Luke could only assume he'd been disturbed by his fiancée. He mumbled a vague echo of the same bland words and heard the click of the call ending, smirking affectionately at the brief flash of the man's profile picture on his screen then sliding the device away in his shorts pocket, willing away the little bulge of semi. He needed to go back indoors and be the respectable young father and boyfriend now, not the easily aroused `other man'. Dan James tugged down on the drawstrings at the cowl of his hoody, feeling the early chill in the spring air as he traipsed out onto the all-purpose fields, glancing up at the towering rugby posts near him and the faint mist at the far end where rows of terraced houses were visible only by roofs and chimneys. His lean shins and calves shivered a little in the cool damp air beneath his black shorts and he hopped on the spot to drag some warmth into his young muscles. The 22-year-old winger made his way out onto the field and dropped the ball from beneath his arm, settling into a series of relaxed keep-ups to occupy himself and then catching it again between both hands as it reverberated up from one bare knee. It was just a bit of paired training, sanctioned by the club in a build-up to fuller sessions at the training ground by the end of the week, but it was still an exciting step forward from complete isolation. The romantic idyll of lockdown with his girlfriend was just beginning to stagnate to repetitive days of aimless bickering and repetitive distractions -- Daniel was too full of energy and competition to be held indoors for this long. Apart from anything else, his sweetheart had noticed her sex toy going missing and, though he was fairly sure he'd wriggled into oblivious innocence, it had triggered a few uncomfortable bedtime conversations for the couple. At that point, he heard his name called, and turned to watch Shaw approach. Wow, he thought, he looks so much more rugged and manly with that darker beard going on, and... Stop it, he told himself, stop checking him out -- stop looking at the way that red fitness top stretches over his broad shoulders, stop noting the thick legs beneath the tight black running leggings, the glimpse of bouncing bulge at the front as the other United player jogged his way. Stop looking at him like that, Dan, just STOP IT... `Hey man,' Dan called with exaggerated lightness, tugging down his hood and lifting one hand to clap at the eager handshake of the boyish 24-year-old; it quickly turned from hand-grab to a slight cuddle of his shoulders, their cool bodies parting rapidly. Again, he found himself looking at the rugged beard that hugged Luke's attractive features, his eyes sparkling below a messy fringe and the brim of his beanie hat. `All good?' Shaw asked, staring him down with a smile. `What, have I got summat on my face?' Dan laughed, scratched his nose. `Nah, all good, just raring to go, mate! Can you believe we'll be back as a team by the end of this week...?' Luke shrugged his broad shoulders, his 6ft1 frame so impressively strong ahead of Dan's own diminutive stature. The two lads chatted as they got moving, Dan bringing up their pre-planned routine on his phone screen and showing it to Luke, so that they had to lean in close; the older lad slung his arm casually about Dan's shoulders as they did so, their breath mingling in condensed little clouds in the early morning chill. James felt weirdly sensitive in his back, really feeling every little gesture as Luke's arm and hand fingertips stroked back over the thick fabric of his hoody and away from his body. He took in deep cool breaths, feeling the compression vest over the hoody clung to his own lean muscles, glad that soon they'd be on the move and working hard, releasing some of his frustration and energy. The morning warmed and their bodies heated. A series of running, dribbling, passing and general fitness drills ticked along between the pair, broken only by laughing fits as they shared silly moments from their lockdown days and funny memories from only months ago that felt like another lifetime. Half of their jokes were at the expense of other teammates, banter about stupid social media posts or little fitness and gaming challenges that had been bandied between the lads over the last couple of months. Luke Shaw had to grit his teeth and force a little chuckle when, to his surprise, Dan risked a joke against big Harry Maguire, carefully mocking the captain's overly earnest videos about a couple of charity endeavours and community projects. Sweat pooling in his thicker beard, Luke tugged the beanie from his head and stroked his tangled overgrown hair. `Well,' he said with cautious defence, `it's good that he's got time to do that sort of stuff though, right?' James, already glossy and rosy-cheeked, coloured and looked away, still panting. `Yeah, true, I just meant...' He had the beginnings of a scowl around his tight little mouth. Luke leaned over and dropped a hand to his shoulder. `He's not a bad guy, y'know,' he said gently through his huffs of breath. `I know there were some, er, dark moments, a while back, but...' `It was just a little joke, mate,' the short cute Yorkshireman interrupted slowly. Luke let his hand rest on that heaving shoulder. `Yeah and I'm just saying... if you wanna put those moments behind you, then fair play to you, buddy, but don't hold it against Harry, those moments weren't... one way.' A little more gruffly, clearing his throat and leaning in closer at the touchline of this pitch, `We both respect that, mate, we wouldn't want to stress or bother you. Just want you to be well with your girlfriend, that's all.' Dan nodded, a flicker of embarrassment or uncertainty in his eyes, turning back to the ball on the ground and taking control of it beneath one booted foot. He skipped forward into a rapid dribble, showing off his skills but also clearly dodging the direction of the talk. Luke, true to his word, respected that choice and hared after him to secure a tackle. Beyond the pitch rose the towering red-brick buildings of the site; it was an expensive private school that had paid for some sponsorship with the club last season, now loaning its ground for a few of these paired sessions as the squad sought full fitness for the season's uncertain completion. It was an eerily empty site that gave a peculiar intimacy to the lads' kickabout and fitness activities. Perhaps that feeling of emptiness and distance had pushed Luke towards the honesty of his comments -- he'd never really braved talking to Dan about those episodes in the New Year: that first time Harry had `recruited' him into their play in a coke-fuelled blur, the group fun in a Watford hotel, the doomed sweaty night where he himself had first really lost his patience with Maguire. To Luke, that all seemed so long ago -- it thrilled and bewildered him to reflect on how far his relationship with the United captain had come since those nights. To Dan? Well, fair enough, he thought; James was not comfortable with whatever fluidity or passion had led him into those encounters, and clearly the memories were fresh and irritating. He resolved not to bring it up again, unsure he was the right guy to advise or counsel the lad in this. They completed the training regime and played on for another twenty minutes, the morning sun glowing into prominence above them until both lads had to drag off a layer. Dan's slim but muscular body was bare beneath the vest and hoody, glistening with a fine layer of perspiration on his smooth tan skin. Such a cute lad, Luke reflected with more than a hint of desire, but he swallowed the thought; leave him be, let him move on. He turned away, wafting his own overheated body in the thin black under-armour beneath his long-sleeve red kit. His legs felt red hot inside the skinny tracksuit bottoms though and he couldn't wait to get changed, wishing he had stuck to shorts. He stretched his legs over the grass, pulling one then the other up behind him to stretch his muscles, then doing the same to his arms... he turned to call over Dan, ready to insist that they call it a day, and caught the 22-year-old paused a few metres behind, seeming to stare at him once again. `Oi, stop checking out my arse!' It was a slip of the mind and the tongue, a flirty joke from his banter with Harry -- an accidental relapse to a conversation he'd resolved to abandon. He saw the embarrassment on Dan's face immediately, the desperate effort to look anywhere but at him. Dan was laughing but it was forced and uncomfortable and now he was hurrying past on his way towards the empty school buildings. Luke reached for his arm in passing but was shrugged roughly away. `Dan mate,' he said, picking up the pace and scooping the football off the grass, `was just a harmless comment, don't be like that...' `Like what? I'm just heading in, like you said. Time to get changed. I've got lunch plans with-` `Wait up...' He hurried after him. Beyond the field was an ugly modern extension to the redbrick school buildings, the sports facility they'd been given access to; shirtless Dan rushed through its automated sliding doors and through into the long empty changing room, chucking his hoody down on a bench and moving towards the small pile of his belongings. Luke dropped and tapped the ball aside as he joined him indoors and then followed him between the rows of pegs. `Mate,' he called softly, `don't be cross with me...' `Not cross,' grunted James in an almost teenage sulk, flinching as Luke's hand descended on his shoulder. `It's just --` He shrugged the hand off his skin. `I wasn't fucking checking you out, okay?' He whirled round as if to carry on the building rant in his voice but he paused, starting at the closeness of them now, Luke stood patiently in front of him with an expression of remorse. `Joke. Just a joke. Promise.' He held both palms up. `Forget it.' He backed away from him with a hopeful smile, then turned his back. He heaved a sigh at his own clumsiness or paranoia there, a little sick of trading on eggshells. Note to self: stop making things sexually awkward with teammates you like! He dragged the tight under-shirt up and off his body, airing his hairy pits and pulling back his fringe. He paused at the surprising physical touch, then turned his head a little to look over his shoulder. There was Dan, moved closer to him, and bringing his hand in a gentle stroke against the plump curve of Shaw's own butt. `Right,' he said in a low voice, `you could have asked, if you wanted to touch.' Dan's guilty grin flashed across his cherub features and was gone again. He hung his head, lingering there behind him with his flushed cheeks and brow, his dense dark curls forming a little crown. He dared a tighter grab of the lyrca-wrapped buns and then pulled his hand back. Luke turned slowly on the spot, reached down, and took that hand gently; he pulled it back in but not against his bubble butt, his bulge. He saw that little flash of guilty pleasure again in Dan's wide dark eyes. `You could have asked,' Dan returned with a nervous stammer in his tease, `before you let me touch.' `Does that even make sense...?' `Dunno. Does any of this?' Luke lifted his hands to stroke Dan's shoulders a little, still looking down between them as the other footballer's fingers played against the lycra bulge, which was quickly responding. Neither of them said another word for a while. Dan squeezed and traced the outline of Luke's thick piece, making breathy little gasps of hesitation. Luke stroked his palms up and down his shoulders then let one hand slide up to graze his cheek and play with his hair, the other slipping back down the arm to his elbow. He made an encouraging little gasp of his own as Dan began to pull at the elastic and try to edge his hand inside. `Are you sure you want to do that...?' he asked with a kindly caution in his bright blue eyes. `It's the last thing I want to do,' Dan cursed in a whisper. `I told myself I'd never...' `And here you are,' Luke said. He sighed sympathetically, but also with his own arousal. Then he clamped his hands more firmly to Dan's shoulders, as if to thrust him away, but he guided him to the side and nodded across the empty but public-feeling changing rooms. An archway led into a square shower block. `In here,' he suggested with an authority in his voice that surprised him as much as Dan. He paused to kick off his trainers and push down on the waist of his running leggings, watching Dan scrabble away his shorts too. Luke had to laugh at himself as he twanged the tight exercise pants down his thick hairy legs with slight difficulty, leaving him in just grey briefs and ankle socks, which he ignored and charged through the archway, snatching and tugging on Dan's hand. Dan felt wild with the sudden rush of it, his socked feet damp and slapping on the tiled floor. His shorts shed from a second ankle and his growing semi bounced in the tight black boxer briefs that had been beneath his shorts. He hadn't even planned to shower after this morning, but... maybe they weren't really gonna shower. Luke pulled him to him and kissed his clammy forehead, his firm hands on his neck and jaw. Dan grabbed at his thick waist, feeling the sturdy trunk of the defender's body. His hands found their way up past bullet-like nipples to stroke the fine hair between his gentle pecs. Overtaken by the man's rich smell he tilted his head up and wanted to kiss more, hoping his lips would hit lips, but then two of Luke's fingers were in the way as if in a silencing gesture. `Not on the lips,' he heard him say with a slight laugh in his voice. He didn't understand but he didn't want to stop and ask. He ran his hands back down the sides of his body and suddenly felt hot water buffeting him from the side; Luke had slammed the switch and drenched them. Dan let out a silly giggle of pleasure at this and grabbed that package again, now just through soggy briefs, feeling how thick and hard Luke's cock was. How crazy, he thought, to think that I've already had this in my mouth... `Do you want to suck it?' came Luke's voice, gentle but also insistent. He could only nod his head in answer; when he went to open his mouth it filled with the hot spray of the shower. His long curls were a fringe getting in his eyes now. He laughed and scooped his hand inside the briefs, really feeling its thickness, then he began sliding down to his knees, the shower water reduced to a mist around him. He planted his hands against the thickness of Luke's thighs and then helped him as the briefs came shuffling down. He stretched at the wet waistband and pulled them on to the knee, staring wondrously at the thick uncut tool rising in his face now. Luke's fingers were in his curls, scratchy and guiding. He curled his lips around the tip of Luke's dick and took it into his mouth, pressing his tongue beneath the bell-end and rolling it. He could taste the sexy defender's sweat on it and he forced as much of it into his mouth as possible until he felt like he might choke, then pulled back gasping for breath and laughing excitedly. Luke was moaning and pressing his shoulders into the wall; Dan stared up his toned body and wanked at his cock, running his tongue over his fat balls instead. He reached his hands round, wanting to squeeze and feel those chunky cheeks that had just looked so fucking good in lycra, bouncing ahead of them in their sprints and laps. Once more, Luke's hands were on his, firmly stopping him. `Nope,' he heard him groan, `not allowed there, sorry...' Dan felt chastised but so long as he had access to this thick meat, he didn't much care. He was still picturing that view, though. He applied his mouth once more to the cock, so surprised by how much he relished the taste and how easily he seemed to send waves of pleasure up through the butch lad against the wall. He wanted so badly to kiss him on the mouth and feel that beard on his smooth chin, but he felt the boundaries had been laid down for him. If this was all he got, then he was gonna enjoy it... `Come up,' breathed Luke just then, `come on...' Dan did so, climbing up Shaw's body and feeling his own cock so hard that it might rip through the wet black cotton. Luke's hands were down there now though as he clung to and kiss at his chest and shoulders and furry neck. He felt his own pants torn down and Luke's hand gently jerk his stiff thin cock a few times, slick and wet under the hot blast. But then Luke was muscling him aside and toward the wall and he let out a hungry cry. `Yes,' he gasped, feeling one cheek squeezed by Luke, `it's all yours...' `You sure?' Shaw hissed, his voice full of aggressive lust but also tender caution. Both were exciting to Dan: the sense of the other man's excited sexual force and also the caring safety of his friendship. From their mutual adventures at Christmas and in January, he'd rather assumed Luke Shaw wasn't quite interested in this side of things, but... `Fuck me,' he begged, voicing what he'd been fantasising for months now, living out with that weak little toy of his girlfriend's. `Fuck me, Luke, fuck me...' Shaw pressed him to the wall, hot water splashing down against their hair and shoulders and making their skin slippery against each other. He planted rough kisses at the back of Dan's neck and the top of his bumpy spine. One of his arms stuck out perfectly parallel with Dan's, palms splayed to the wall, supporting him as he bent into the tiles; his other reached down to squeeze and pull at the Welsh national's tight right buttock. He slid his finger between the cheeks, teasing and dragging at his fuzzy crack. Not long ago, he was a `virgin' to this, he supposed; any number of women had groaned beneath his thick tool but he'd yet to seriously consider giving it a guy until that pressurised night of mad pleasure with Maguire, an encounter he still couldn't quite believe in. Now he'd felt it once, he needed it again. And the rules said it was okay. `Monogamy isn't quite possible, is it?' Harry had laughed at him in a toilet cubicle in the Pennines. `I mean... given our situations, bud...' Luke had felt the vague sting of this but known wholeheartedly the truth of it. What was being faithful when it was already an affair? He'd thought Harry was joking when he suggested it, but it had took grip in his mind and started to make sense. `Your arse is mine,' the dominant Yorkshireman had growled at him, `no guy fucks any hole of yours but me -- and I promise the same to you.' The unevenness of the promise had been funny afterwards, though Luke was still somewhat touched by the earnestness of it. `And no kissing,' he'd added himself, with conviction. `No cocks and no tongues getting inside either of us, except for each other's. Okay?' Now, beneath the hot rush of water in the claustrophobic square of showers, he pushed the tip of his nob between Dan's pink cheeks and leant into him eagerly. He could feel the tightness of his hole on the pink of his bell-end, and felt encouraged by knowledge of this short lad's experience; perhaps not lately, but to know Dan had once taken Harry (how???) and Mason (seriously?) gave him weird confidence in what he needed to. The lad's hole felt impossibly tight but he kissed and stroked at his neck and shoulders and bore forward until it began to open around his girth and he felt himself begin to enter the sexy little winger. Dan groaned loudly, face pressed against hard tile, muffling his cries. `Oh Luke, oh god, oh yes' -- or something near enough that. The sound of his trembling voice was as intensely satisfying as the tightness of his backside around Luke's dick. He pressed further in and fucked his second male arse, beginning to use his hips and arse cheeks to pull firmly back and thrust inside. He reached around to take Dan's slender cock in hand, gladly tossing it and adding to the lad's cries of enjoyment. His own grunts and moans mingled: `Yes Dan, you sexy little fucker... mmm, take it buddy, take every inch... I'm gonna cum inside ya... get ready, Danny lad, oh yes...' He was shocked at the aggression of his own voice but he couldn't stop himself. He'd never felt so strong and in control. He recognised from the throb of the cock in his hand and the throaty growl of Dan's voice that he'd fucked and jerked him to completion. Spurts of Dan's silver-white cum dashed away in the stream of shower water and Luke picked up his pace, slamming himself into that cute bubble butt and feeling his cock tremble with anticipation. He brought both arms up across Dan's narrow chest, hugging him tightly so he could really fuck him with gusto and then... then... oh... oh yes... ohhhh... He came inside him, spilling his load in that tight little arse, kissing him so roughly on the side of the neck that he was sure to leave a lovebite. He held onto him tightly until his own thrusts slowed and weakened, gulping down wet air as his exhausted body hit a figurative wall; he untangled himself from Dan and collapsed against the literal wall, knocking the showerhead back on and letting it wash refreshingly over him until his head stopped spinning with orgasmic glory. Dan's smaller hand found his and squeezed it beneath the water. Luke laughed, pleased with himself, and hugged James to him beneath it. He kissed his crown and found a squeezy soap dispenser. He lathered it against their upper bodies with lazy hands, chuckling more as Dan stroked his chest hair and nipples. The lad's face came reaching for a kiss again and Luke had to avert his lips. That had been his own suggestion to The Rules, after all. Naturally, he feared a regression in Dan's mood and attitude after they were rinsed down and heading through to dry. This in itself became comical and bromantic. Dan hadn't brought a towel and had to share Luke's rough old beach towel instead, causing some chuckles between the casually naked blokes as Luke generously let him dry first, stood dripping as he watched. When it was his turn, he made an inverted striptease of it, letting Dan's eyes follow the towel as he dried his broad chest and his loose privates. They dressed quietly, eyes furtively finding each other across the room. Luke kept catching Dan staring back into the archway of the showers as if reliving the scene, and he couldn't help but giggle at this. `You feel okay down there?' he asked pragmatically, pulling a fresh tshirt over his neck and shoulders. Dan was buttoning up a baggy Levi's shirt. `It's a bit tender. But... you felt so good.' `I'm glad,' Luke said, grinning at his own bland praise, but careful not to say too much. He wanted only two things here now: to make sure Dan James felt at peace with what he'd done, and to feel comfortable that he wasn't betraying the more important connection he'd found. When they were more or less fully clothed, he approached and hugged the midfielder again, squeezing his arms a little and rubbing his back. `You've got to let go of the shame or whatever,' he said in a kind whisper. `No labels, Danny boy. We all enjoy what we enjoy, right...? It doesn't make you less of anything, just cos I fucked you, okay...?' It sounded cringey and lame but it felt like what James maybe needed to hear. He kept his sharp blue eyes on his and squeezed him again. `Maybe it happens again, maybe it doesn't. It doesn't have to matter, Dan, that's all you need to think.' `It was so... intense,' murmured the younger player. `It was,' Luke agreed, more openly this time. `It was fucking great, let's be honest. And that's all it needs to be: don't overthink it. You can go home to your girlfriend and forget about it until you want to remember it. Don't beat yourself up, mate.' Dan nodded slowly and a weak grin lit his angelic young face. `Thanks, Luke,' he mumbled. `I...' Luke shushed him and ruffled his half-damp curly mop top. `Stop before you overthink, pretty boy. Come on. We've both got lunches to drive home to, okay? And we are NOT going to lose sleep over what we enjoyed in here. Promise me.' `Promise.' `Good lad.' Luke kissed him one last time on the brow.