Date: Sat, 23 Aug 2003 13:28:27 +0100 From: Gymnopedies Subject: Family Album - Chapter 13 The usual disclaimers apply: don't read if you are prohibited by location, are under legal age, or if you are likely to be offended by explicit descriptions of gay sex. The story is pure fiction and is not based on any actual events. Gymnopedies August 2003 gym@softhome.net Family Album - Chapter 13 ------------------------- Soccer wasn't Jack's favourite game. In fact he wasn't really into team sports of any description. However he knew how much winning this match meant to Chris, and if he could make his brother happy by giving up a couple of hours of his Saturday afternoon to go along and show support then it was a small price to pay. Westdale High had finished top of the area league for as far back as anyone could remember, right up until this current season. This year Jack's school, Elmwood. had turned things around and were currently holding onto that coveted top position with Westdale pushed down into second place. That could all change. If Chris' team managed to win today they would emerge as this year's league champions. If they lost they would have to be satisfied with second place and Westdale would once more take the honours. The day had turned out to be pretty warm, even humid, and Jack was glad that all he had to do was stand on the sidelines and watch. The game had only been underway for a few minutes and already the boys on the pitch had sweat running down their faces. A cheer went up from the Elmwood supporters; Chris had the ball and was taking it swiftly down the right hand side of the pitch. Standing next to Jack, Alex was screaming support to his brother and just behind, Andy was shouting almost as loudly. Chris made it past one of the opposing players and made a perfect pass across to the centre to one of his team-mates. The boy brought the ball under control and took a shot at the goal. There was tremendous cheer, turning instantly into a moan of disappointment as the Westdale keeper made a brilliant dive and caught the ball in his arms. Jack groaned and shook his head, just like everyone else, caught up in the collective emotions of the crowd. He glanced to his left where, a little further down the pitch, Mike stood with his father. Jack had kept trying to catch Mike's eye, but it was if the younger boy was deliberately avoiding looking in Jack's direction. Jack felt an overwhelming need to speak to the thirteen year old and find the reason for his strange behaviour earlier that day. He didn't think Mike would tell anyone about the things they had done together, but it worried him that the boy appeared upset about something. Beside Jack, Alex had suddenly started going frantic, as indeed had most of the sizeable crowd. A Westdale player had the ball and was going almost straight down the middle, passing the Elmwood players as though they didn't exist. The Elmwood defenders rushed out to meet him, but at the last moment he crossed the ball to another Westdale player, giving him a clear run through. Westdale took the shot, the Elmwood keeper fumbled it, and the ball went in. Elmwood were one-nil down. Alex stamped his foot, looking furious and Jack heard Andy telling the boy not to worry, there was plenty of time left to even things up. The rest of the first half passed fairly uneventfully. Now that Westdale were in the lead they had adopted a defensive strategy, content to keep the ball away from their goal area and not take any unnecessary chances. When the referee's whistle signalled the end of the first half there were glum looks on the faces of both the Elmwood players and their supporters. As the players from both teams left the pitch for the obligatory pep talks from their coaches, Jack decided it was time for a little talking of his own. He told Andy there was something he needed to do and that he'd be back in a few minutes. Alex had wanted to tag along, but realising that Jack wanted to go alone Andy had talked the youngster into staying with him instead. Mike saw Jack approaching and said something to his dad before coming to meet the older boy. "Hi," said Jack, a little uncomfortably. "Hi." Mike looked equally uncomfortable. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Jack said, "Want to take a walk?" "Sure." Jack began walking away from the pitch and supporters, towards a quieter area. Mike fell into step beside him. "Your ankle seems better," said Jack, just really for something to say. "You're hardly limping at all now." "It's fine most of the time, just sometimes I forget to be careful and put my foot down wrong, then it hurts." "Bet you wish you were out there playing. Maybe you could have helped stop that goal." Mike gave a laugh. "I don't think I could have made any difference. I'm not exactly the best player on the team. Both Chris and Tim are much better than I am." "Chris seems to think you're pretty good." "Yeah, well, Chris would." Jack drew a deep breath and jumped right in. "Mike, what happened this morning?" Mike didn't answer straight away. He stopped walking, forcing Jack to stop as well. The two boys looked into each other's eyes. Eventually Mike dropped his gaze. "I don't know. I sorta freaked I guess." "Was it what we did? Didn't you like it?" "Sure I liked it. I've dreamed about doing stuff like that enough times. Shit, I'd even imagined doing it with you before." He suddenly realised what he'd said and his face turned red. "You did?" This had come as a bit of shock. Jack didn't know what to say. "Yeah." Mike raised his eyes and a sheepish grin split his blushing face. "I've always thought you were pretty hot." Now it was Jack's turn to blush. He looked away until he'd regained his composure. "I would have thought you would prefer Chris, he's more your age." Mike shrugged. "Chris is really hot as well. Even Alex is cute. I never thought I'd get the chance to play around with any of you though." "You sure had me worried when you walked out on us this morning," said Jack. "Yeah, I'm sorry. Like I said, I don't really know what happened. All the time there was this voice in my head asking if I should be doing that stuff. Then afterwards I felt so guilty, as though I'd done something wrong. I just needed to be on my own for a bit to think things through." "So how do you feel about it now?" Jack asked, trying to understand but not yet feeling as though he had a handle on the problem. "Confused," said Mike. "I guess it's pretty obvious by now that I'm not into girls, I like other guys. What we did this morning was one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me, or it would have been if I hadn't felt so bad about it all. I really want to do stuff like that, but at the same time it sorta scares me." "So what do you want to do now?" "What do you mean?" "Well, do you want to try some more stuff, or would you prefer to forget it ever happened?" Mike gave a shy smile. "After I bolted like that I thought maybe you wouldn't want anything else to do with me," he said, avoiding the question. Jack put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you. Look, I'll leave it up to you. If you would like to play around some more then tell me when you're ready, 'cos I'd certainly love to. Or if you want you can come round sometime and we can just talk or sit and listen to some music or whatever." "Sounds great," said Mike, his smile more confident now. He looked over his shoulder, back towards the pitch. "We'd better get back, the second half will be starting soon." "Yeah," Jack nodded. "And Elmwood are going to need all the support they can get if they're going to turn this around. Chris has his heart set on winning this championship." "He sure does," Mike agreed. "He's worse than the rest of the team put together. You don't know how much it meant him to him, you helping him complete that homework assignment so that he would be able to play. It would have killed him if he'd had to sit on the side and watch." As the two boys walked back to the pitch, Jack felt much more relaxed than he had a few minutes earlier. At least everything was now sorted out with Mike. It also felt good knowing how much Chris had appreciated his help. He decided that during the second half he was going to do some serious cheering. "What's happening with Mike?" Alex asked, as Jack rejoined his uncle and younger brother. "He's fine," Jack replied. "There were some things he had to think about, but he's ok now." "So does that mean he'll be coming round again?" asked Alex, hopefully. "You'll just have to wait and see," Jack grinned. A few moments later they were joined by Mike and his dad who had moved along to stand with them. The second half got underway. Elmwood immediately went into attack. Whatever their coach had said to them during the half-time break had obviously had some effect as they pushed forwards, more determined than ever. Jack realised he was shouting at the top of his lungs as one of the Elmwood players passed the ball to Tim who was perfectly placed on the left wing. A bit of clever manoeuvring and he was around the last defender, but he had just a split second to aim and shoot as another Westdale player charged in for the tackle. Tim took the shot at a run. There was collective in-drawing of breath from the Elmwood supporters, followed immediately by a disappointed groan as the Westdale goalkeeper managed to get the tips of his fingers to the ball, changing it's path just enough for it to catch the post and bounce out where it was safely cleared by one of the defenders. Play continued for the next twenty minutes or so with neither side getting especially close to scoring. A botched attempt by Westdale was easily saved by the Elmwood keeper. Then suddenly, Tim once more had the ball. He powered up the left wing, appearing virtually unstoppable. As two of the Westdale players converged on him he made an excellent cross to the centre where Chris was waiting to receive it. Chris caught the ball on his chest and as it dropped to the ground, he bent, pivoted on his left foot and blasted it straight towards the goal. The Westdale keeper dived but didn't stand chance. The ball flew past him and into the back of the net. The roar from the Elmwood fans was deafening. Alex stopped his excited leaping up and down just long enough hug Jack then turned back to the pitch and resumed his cheering. "Now we're back in with a chance," said Jack to Mike, a huge grin on his face. Mike too was grinning happily. He gave a quick glance at his watch. "Less than twenty minutes to go. We need another one yet." "If Elmwood are at the top of the league, won't a draw be enough?" Jack asked. Mike shook his head. "Not if Westdale win their match against Brookford next week. If that happens then they'll beat us on points; they'll win the league. Brookford are a pushover, we beat them 4-nil. But if we beat Westdale today, they can't catch us; the trophy's ours." It now appeared as though Westdale agreed with Mikes assessment of the situation and were willing to content themselves with a draw. They went into full defensive mode pulling their players back to defend their goal. Elmwood made some valiant attempts to get through but each time they were repelled. One such attempt looked like it might make it, with Tim once more taking the ball down the left side and managing to break through some of the opposing team's defences. It looked like he was about to try a repeat of their earlier strategy, but as he prepared to cross the ball towards the centre, there was no one there to receive it. Jack looked back down the pitch to see Chris angrily picking himself up from the ground. Alex was almost screaming in fury. "It was that big guy," he shouted. "The one with the long hair. He deliberately tripped Chris." Jack felt a surge of anger as he realised what had happened. Whilst almost everyone, including the referee had been focussed on the ball, one of Westdale's players had taken the opportunity to foul Chris, tripping him as he ran to get into position. The offending player trotted down the pitch, a smirk on his face. A few of the Elmwood supporters who had witnessed the foul were shouting to him, but he casually gave them the finger and turned his back. The minutes ticked by. The end of the match was fast approaching and as it came closer, so Elmwood's chances of winning the championship gradually receded. Mike again looked down at his watch, a worried expression on his face. "Less than five minutes to go," he said, to no one in particular. Jack continued to shout support with the rest of the crowd, but he could feel hope disappearing as the minutes ticked by. He watched as Chris ran past, seeing the tension and fatigue on his brother's face. He shouted out a some words of encouragement, but wasn't sure if Chris had even heard. The pace on the pitch, which seemed to have been slowing down suddenly picked up again and it became apparent that Elmwood were making a last ditch all or nothing attempt to get through the Westdale defence. Almost all of Elmwood's players had moved forwards passing the ball between them with skill and accuracy that would have done credit to many semi-professional teams. A few yards forwards, then a few back, keeping control of the ball. Their progress seemed painfully slow. There couldn't be more than a couple of minutes left. Then, one of the Elmwood players must have seen an opening, he took his chance and made a shot at the goal, probably more an act of desperation than a calculated attempt to score. The ball flew towards the goal. The keeper wasn't going to get to it. Hope surged in Jack's chest. This was it! The ball struck the post and ricocheted back. The shot had missed. Jack groaned and closed his eyes to try to shut out the disappointment. However, a second later he heard Alex scream out "Go Chris!" A shout that was echoed from the crowd. Jack quickly opened his eyes to see Chris in possession of the ball. He was almost at the Westdale goal. The goalkeeper, who had dropped to the ground in an effort to block the previous shot was still trying to get to his feet. The goal was open, undefended. There was no way Chris could possibly miss. Seemingly out of nowhere, one of the Westdale players powered into Chris, knocking him from his feet to the ground where he landed heavily. It was the same big, long-haired jock who had openly tripped the boy earlier in the match. This time, however, he wasn't satisfied with the deliberate foul. In full view of the entire crowd he drew back his foot and aimed a viscous kick at the helpless teenager. The booted foot caught Chris heavily on the shoulder and his head went back in a cry of pain which was drowned out by the roar from the spectators. The wave of fury from the Elmwood supporters was almost palpable, made even worse when the big jock turned to face them and held his arms in the air as if receiving applause. Jack couldn't control himself. He lunged forwards, the one thought in his mind was to beat the shit out of bastard who had assaulted his brother. He was brought up short by a steely grip on his arm. "Leave it, Jack. That won't help, let the referee sort it out." Andy's face was pale with suppressed anger and it was obvious that in spite of his words it was taking a great effort for him not to go out there himself. However, there was someone else who wasn't willing to wait for the referee. With a cry a rage Tim ploughed into the jock with such force that the two of them tumbled to the ground in a wild heap of thrashing arms and pummelling fists. Tim was much smaller and lighter than his adversary, but he didn't let that stop him and such was his determination that it took three of his team-mates to pull him off. Even then he struggled like a madman to free himself and get back into the fight. The jock got to his feet and for a moment it looked like he was going to take the fight to Tim, but luckily for the smaller the boy the referee managed to get between them first. There was a great deal of shouting and waving of arms culminating in a cheer from the Elmwood side as the Jock was sent off, though seconds later this was matched be a groan as Tim received the same treatment. Luckily it didn't look as though Chris was too badly hurt. He'd got shakily to his feet, and was painfully massaging his shoulder. The referee went over to talk to him; it looked like he was asking him if he was ok. The ref's arm went up and he gave a short blast on his whistle as he awarded Elmwood a penalty kick. A ripple of excitement passed through the spectators as Chris placed the ball and stepped back ready to take his run up. As the referee signalled for the kick to be taken, complete silence fell. Jack felt Alex's hand seek out his own, squeezing hard and he gave the youngster's hand a reassuring squeeze in return. His own heart was pounding as he watched Chris standing calm and determined, preparing himself to take the shot. Jack tried to imagine the pressure that Chris would be under at this moment; the whole outcome of the championship rested on his shoulders For several long seconds Chris stared down at the ball before raising his eyes to look at the Westdale keeper. A small smile touched his lips then quickly vanished, leaving just blank concentration. He started forwards, his limbs moving with the sure grace of a born athlete. There was a sharp, collective intake of breath as he made contact, the thud of leather on leather clearly audible to everyone in the crowd. The ball rocketed towards the goal. The keeper reacted, moving to intercept; he wasn't fast enough. The ball hit the back of the net. The roar from the Elmwood fans was deafening. There was complete uproar. The sound of the referee's whistle signalling the official end of the match was almost drowned out by the shouts and cheers of the Elmwood supporters, many of whom were now on the pitch. Chris disappeared from view, completely engulfed by the pressing bodies of his overjoyed team-mates. Jack felt an overwhelming urge to rush forwards and hug his brother, but there was no way he would be able to get even close so he satisfied himself with throwing his arms around Mike instead. Alex came next and then Andy; it seemed that everyone was hugging everyone else. The celebrations and cheering continued as they watched a beaming Chris lifted onto the shoulders of the other Elmwood players and carried from the field. Jack couldn't remember ever seeing his brother looking so happy and he felt a surge of pride in what the fourteen year old had just done. "He did it," he said, grinning so hard his face hurt. "He sure did," Mike replied, looking just as happy. "I wouldn't have missed that for anything," smiled Andy, hugging Alex tightly. He put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "This past few days have made me realise that I don't spend enough time with you guys. We're going to have to do something about that." "I'll hold you to that," said Jack, happily. He turned as Mike nudged his arm. "C'mon." "Where're we going?" Jack asked, starting to follow Mike onto the pitch. "You'll see." "Hey what about me?" Alex called, quickly coming after them. Jack gave Mike a questioning look. "Can he come along?" "I don't see why not," the thirteen year old replied with shrug. It soon became apparent where Mike was leading them. "Are you sure we should be going in there?" Jack asked, as they approached the door to the boy's locker room. "No problem," replied Mike. "I am on the team, remember?" "Yeah, but we aren't." "Stop worrying. C'mon, let's get inside." He went in, holding the door open for Jack and Alex to follow. "Westdale will be using the Senior Boys' locker room next door," the thirteen year old explained. They went down a short corridor and through an inner door into the locker room itself. Even before they entered they could hear the raised voices of a dozen or so extremely happy teenagers shouting, laughing and joking with one another. Inside, the room smelled of a mixture sweat and damp clothing with a slight undertone of muscle-rub. Thirteen boys in various stages of undress, some standing, some sitting on low benches were dotted around the room in small groups, mostly oblivious to the newcomers. Along one wall was an open sided shower area; the steaming water splashed noisily from the shower heads onto the floor, though none of the boys had entered the showers yet. The team coach, the only adult in the room, was talking to one of the players. He looked across as the three boys entered and gave Mike a smile and a wave of acknowledgement. A couple of seconds later he finished his conversation and headed over towards them. "Hi, Mike. How ya doing? How's the ankle?" "Getting better, thanks coach," Mike replied. "Just sorry I couldn't be out there today." "Me too," the man gripped Mike's shoulder. "But these things happen. Just take care of that foot, I want you fit and ready for the start of next season." He turned to Jack. "You're Chris' brother, right? Damn, but you boys look alike. I hear it's you that we have to thank for making sure that our star player didn't miss the match. That Simmons woman can be so damned unreasonable sometimes." He took hold of Jack's hand in a solid grip and gave it a shake. "I guess we all owe you one." "No problem," said Jack, feeling a bit embarrassed. He wondered just how many people Chris had told. The coach gave a beaming grin then turned to look around the room. "Come on, you guys," he shouted, his voice easily cutting through the noise. "Get a move on and hit the showers. I'm sure we've all got some serious celebrating to do; mine involves a bar not far from here and a bottle of something nice and cold. If I don't get there soon my buddies are likely to start without me, so be quick get your pale, skinny butts underneath that water. With a smile and a shake of his head went into his small office-room. The three boys made their way across the room to Tim and Chris. Chris was of course very much the centre of attention following his performance on the pitch, the other boys would call out to him or pause to say a few words to him as they passed on their way to the shower. By this stage several of the boys were in the shower, the water splashing down onto their naked bodies as they washed away the grime from the match. Other boys were still in the process of pulling off their clothes. As Jack watched, a boy standing next to Chris dropped his shorts and briefs, paused to scratch his leg then picked up his towel and headed for the shower. Both Tim and Chris were shirtless, Chris was still wearing his shorts, but Tim was wearing only a pair of quite tight blue briefs. Being surrounded by cute, naked and nearly naked boys made Jack's heart begin to beat quickly. It was difficult to know where to look without appearing to be staring at some boy's body. Alex though didn't seem to be suffering from this problem. He knew exactly where to look. His gaze moved around from the boys in the shower, took in Chris' exposed upper torso and came to rest on the small but nicely formed bulge in the front of Tim's tight briefs. The hard lump in the front of Alex's pants was apparent even to Jack and he wished his youngest brother wouldn't be quite so obvious about his attraction to other boys. "Hey, guys!" smiled Tim, as the boys approached. The twins greeted his brother with a smile and a quick hug, then to Jack's surprise, he and Alex received hugs of their own. As Jack's hands made contact with the smooth, warm skin of Tim's bare back and the side of his chest, the older teen felt his stomach flip; the physical contact was far too brief as far as he was concerned. Chris' greeting was far more reserved, consisting of just a nod and an almost shy smile. "Well?" asked Tim, grinning. "Was he amazing or not?" He threw his arm around Chris' shoulders, causing the boy to wince painfully. "Oops, sorry. I forgot. I should have killed that shit-head." "You ok?" asked Jack, gently taking hold of his brother's arm and turning him around so that he could see the back of his shoulder. A large patch looked red and swollen. "It'll be fine," said Chris, pulling away. "The coach had a good prod and poke around. He says there's nothing broken, but it'll probably be sore for a few days." "I bet it will," said Jack, with a grimace. "Jack would have given the guy a good thumping if Uncle Andy hadn't held him back," Alex chimed in. "Really?" asked Chris, his shy smile returning. "Yeah, Jack was all set to run onto the pitch and get him, but Uncle Andy grabbed his arm," Alex continued. "I was angry," Jack explained, trying to catch Alex's eye and get him to shut up. "Though I sure don't blame Tim for getting stuck in." "No one does something like that to my best friend and gets away with it," Tim grinned. "Come on, Chris, we'd better get into the shower before Coach comes out and finds we're still not ready." He casually pushed down his briefs and stepped out of them then picked up his towel and put it across his shoulder as he waited for his friend. Jack let his gaze wander up Tim's slim body, taking in every detail. The young teen made no attempt to cover himself as he waited to Chris to remove his shorts. Jack glanced at Mike and received a knowing smile in return. Turning his back, Chris pushed down his shorts and picking them up from the floor he dropped them on the bench. His blue and white briefs quickly followed as he pushed them down, stepped out of them and wrapped a towel around himself all in one quick movement before turning to face the other boys, his face slightly flushed. Jack had managed to get a quick look at his brother's beautifully shaped ass cheeks before they had disappeared from view behind the towel. He watched as the boy followed Tim across to the shower area, hung the towel on a peg and stepped under the water. Since the shower was open sided, Jack had a clear view of Chris and Tim, along with three other boys as they rinsed themselves under the hot spray. "You're eyes are going to pop out of your head if you keep staring like that," Mike laughed, softly. "Am I that obvious?" Jack asked, blushing. "Only to someone watching you," said Mike. "I saw you getting a good eyeful of Tim." "Yeah, well, you can't blame me. He's cute as hell, just like his twin bother." Now it was Mike's turn to blush. "Alex seems to be enjoying the view," the young teen observed. "Alex is a little pervert," Jack grinned. He stooped and picked Chris' briefs from the floor, squeezed them in his hand for a second as he thought about what they had been in contact with, then dropped them onto the bench on top of the boy's shorts. Chris and Tim were now alone in the shower. As Jack watched, Tim said something to Chris then came out to collect his towel. A second later Chris followed. For a moment Jack thought his heart was going to stop. As Chris walked out of the shower to pick up his towel, the older boy had a completely unobstructed view of the fourteen year old's body; his lightly toned, perfectly proportioned chest; his tight, smooth stomach; his firm legs; the small patch of light coloured pubic hair at the base of his stomach and the slim penis hanging limply between his thighs. For the first time in ages, Jack saw the boy he had loved and lusted after completely, beautifully naked and the thumping in his chest told him he was now even more under the boy's spell than ever before. He swallowed hard and forced himself to look away, trying to regain his composure as Chris retrieved his towel and turning his back, quickly dried himself before wrapping the towel once more around his waist and coming over to get his clothes. "You guys don't need to wait around," said Chris. "You get going if you want and we'll follow when we're done." "We're not in any rush," said Jack, trying to sound casual. He had to force himself not to stare at his brother's smooth chest. "We might as well wait for you now and then we can all walk home together. Chris gave a small shrug then reached for his briefs, pulling them on under his towel. Only when they were safely in place did he remove the towel. Jack sighed to himself; Chris looked so sexy clad only in his tight underwear. As Chris put the towel over his shoulders in order to properly dry his back, he grimaced and gave a grunt of pain. "Come here," Jack said, quickly stepping forwards and taking hold of the towel. "I can manage," said Chris. "Yeah, sure you can." Ignoring the protests, Jack took the towel from his brother and rubbed it over the boy's back then very gently patted his injured shoulder dry. Even this light contact was enough to cause Chris to wince. "I wish I could get my hands on the guy who did this," said Jack, feeling a renewed surge of helpless anger. "Maybe a good job you can't," said Chris, with a pained smile. "The guy's an animal; he'd probably put you in hospital." "It was lucky for Tim that the other guys broke up the fight, otherwise I might have ended up an only twin," Mike grinned. "Hey, I could have handled him, no problem," boasted Tim. He flicked his towel at his brother, causing Mike to jump out of the way, laughing. "Aren't you lot finished yet?" the coach's voice boomed across the room. "You've got one minute before I put you all out on the field and lock the doors, and I don't care if you are still naked!" He shot a quick a quick look at Tim who had still not even put his briefs on. "Better get a move on," Jack laughed, as Tim scrambled for his clothes. There was quite a party atmosphere as Andy and the three brothers sat around the table for their evening meal. The main subject of conversation was of course the soccer game, and especially Chris' winning penalty kick. Towards the end of the meal they were disturbed by the telephone. Alex, who was closest to the door, jumped up to answer it. There was a slight pause and then his excited voice came from the hallway. "Hi, Mom. Guess what? Chris won his soccer match." "I did have some help; I didn't do it all on my own," laughed Chris from the kitchen. "Yeah, ok. I'll put him on," came Alex's voice. "Uncle Andy, Mom wants you." "St. George goes to fight the evil dragon," Andy grinned at the two older boys as he went to the phone. "What did she say?" Jack asked Alex, as the younger boy retook his seat at the table. "Nothing at all really," Alex shrugged. "I told her about Chris winning the game and she just said 'very nice dear, put your Uncle Andrew on,' and that was it." The boys all looked at one another. "She might be ringing to say they're staying a bit longer," Jack suggested. "They can't stay much longer; Dad has work on Monday," Chris pointed out. A few seconds later Andy reappeared. "I've some good news for you," he said. "Your Mom and Dad will be back tomorrow evening." Jack felt his heart sink and immediately felt guilty at the reaction. Having Andy around for the past couple of days had been really nice and he'd secretly been hoping that this visit would last just a little bit longer. "You'll still be able to stay for a couple more days won't you?" he asked his uncle. Andy shook his head. "I really should be getting back. I've a lot of things to take care of." "Yeah, I suppose." The final part of the meal was much quieter than the first part. None of the boys seemed especially pleased by the news that their parents would be coming back the next day. After they'd finished eating, Andy decided he'd better take a look at Chris' shoulder. "It's ok, really," said the fourteen year old. "The coach had a look at it and said it would be fine in a few days." "I still want a look at it myself," said Andy. "Your coach won't have to face your mother when she gets back, I will. I don't want to even think about what she might do to me if she thought I hadn't taken proper care of you. Let's get you into the lounge, get your shirt off and have a proper look." Reluctantly, Chris led the way into the lounge, Jack following closely. If Chris was about to take his shirt off, the older boy intended to be around to see it. Andy took hold of the hem of Chris' shirt and carefully lifted it over the boy's head. Chris folded his arms in front of his bare chest, looking a little uncomfortable. Jack moved in closer for a better look as Andy delicately felt around the large purple bruise on the back of Chris' shoulder. "Doesn't look like there's any serious damage," said Andy, his expression one of concern. "But it's going to very sore for a while. Just promise me that you'll take it easy and don't do anything stupid where you're likely to knock it or anything." "Alright, I promise. Can I put my shirt back on now?" "Yeah. Here, Let me help you." Andy held the garment open while Chris carefully put his arms through the holes, being careful not to move his shoulder any more than absolutely necessary. The boys settled down to watch TV, though Jack found that he spent more time looking at Chris than at the screen. Today he'd managed to get a good if brief look at his brother coming out of the shower; just the memory was enough to make his heart beat faster and his dick start to harden. He was now more determined than ever to find some way of getting Chris naked so that he could have another really good look and maybe even actually touch that beautiful body. It might take a while, but there had to be a way. End of Chapter 13 Feedback is encouraged and always much appreciated. Let me know what you would like to see happen in future chapters, or send me your ideas and suggestions for new stories. Email me at gym@softhome.net or visit my website at http://storiesbygymnopedies.com for more stories, polls and previews.