Part twenty-nine: Left-backs
And so,' Solskjaer intoned in a formal yet cheerful tone, I would like to introduce... your new captain...' The grey-haired Norwegian gave one of his uncomfortably tight-lipped smiles, turning to address the assembled players and staff gathered in the meeting room of the Manchester United training ground. `Harry Maguire,' the gaffer announced, to little surprise but much applause. From amongst the ranks of the assembled players, the tall Yorkshireman emerged, towering in his black and red tracksuit as he joined the manager with a firm public handshake, and the loud celebration dimmed slowly to ripple of appreciation.
Near the back, amongst the assembled footballers, coaches, assistants and other assorted team support, Luke Shaw chewed on the lifted collar of his own tracksuit top, and stared intently between the heads of two taller blokes in front of him, a bit unsure how to react.
Of course, without much surprise, that was for sure: when news of Young's transfer had leaked last night, he had been hardly alone in suspecting Ole's plans for a new skipper. No, this was not a surprise. In a sense, Harry had seemed like a potential captain almost since his fucking arrival at Old Trafford. Luke had fully expected this. But watching it happen, and standing here, after all that had gone on, he felt in turmoil. It was hard not to feel a rush of pleasure at the twisted smile of genuine delight beaming from Maguire's face up there, or the eagerness with which he was shaking Solskjaer's hand... Shaw had admired the big defender for some time, once in a much more innocent way than he did now. It was great to see he him really step into his dream role, and as Luke slowly clapped his gloved hands, it was not without a dose of the same team spirit and loyal admiration that was rippling through the gathering.
But there were other things. Since returning to Manchester, he'd avoided much contact with Harry, though that was hardly easy. He'd been glad to be sidelined in the last couple of games, though being fellow defenders, it was hard to stop their paths regularly crossing even without sharing a pitch of late. He couldn't quite put his feelings into words, but as he watched Harry begin to make his little acceptance speech, cheered once again by a number of enthusiastic teammates, he felt the sting of resentment, or anger.
Luke wasn't sure what it was he felt for Harry Maguire, but he knew a things. He knew that he wasn't ready to be somebody's plaything, and treated like a disposable sex toy. His eyes darted about the room a bit then: he caught sight of lanky Mason Greenwood not far off, looking serious and a bit distracted. He wasn't sure what that youngster would be thinking of all this. Had he had any more contact with Harry since that messy foursome? And there was Dan, arms folded, intensely nodding along at the front. Well, he looked pretty pleased to see the big guy in charge, though... Luke had practically nursed the exhausted young Welshman the morning after that night, when he woke up in a panic on Luke's couch, really confused at what he'd done. Daniel James was a mystery to Luke, for now: so submissive and desperate to please, yet also so intently disinterested in facing up to what had gone on between them all.
When had things gotten so fucking complicated?
Harry was giving a right rambling speech – he was hardly the most articulate bloke bless him, but he was trying to thank everyone who had made him so welcome here, and talk about what he was gonna bring to the captaincy, and –
`Fucking weirdo,' grunted a voice just behind Luke and to his right, and he twisted his head in surprise at the muttered interruption, just in time to catch a glance of young Brandon Williams, who he hadn't realised was right next to him. His big thick eyebrows were knitted in consternation and he was flexing his knuckles at his sides in an almost aggressive manner, glaring through the huddle of United players and staff, watching Maguire's sermon-like acceptance of the skipper role.
Luke raised his own brows, a bit taken aback by the comment, then glanced back to the front, as the speech seemed to end and the team broke into favourable applause once more. There was a rustle of nylon and at his side, Williams spun round on his heel and fucked off in a hurry. Luke was shocked and intrigued and, partly to escape the sight of his one-time lover's big goofy grin as he hugged the gaffer, he backed off and rushed after him.
The 19-year-old local lad, hands in pockets, had raced about the corner from the meeting room and was marching down the corridor at a quick pace. Luke hesitated on the corner, then hurried after him. The squeak of his trainers on the floor must have caught Brandon's ears, because the young Mancunian glanced sharply back and lingered at the end of the corridor, giving him a suspicious and defensive look.
Hey,' Luke panted, after a burst of speed to catch him, everything okay, Bran?'
`Huh? Yeh, fucking fine,' the surly youngster responded in a voice that utterly contradicted him.
Luke, running his fingers through his scruffy dark blond hair, stepped right up to the other lad and gave him a friendly smile. You sure, pal? We're meant to be back there about to go into training...' He shrugged his broad shoulders and gave Brandon a tentative pat on the arm. Something up, kid?'
Don't call me kid,' Brandon retorted quickly, then frowned, then looked momentarily more vulnerable and embarrassed. I ain't feeling well. I'm skipping training.' He turned about and shot off around the corner in the same speedy walk. Luke bolted after him and blocked his path.
Mate,' he said, in a measured voice of warning, barring the younger lad, and placing a hand on his shoulder. Without telling anyone? You'll get bollocked. You know you will.' He gave him another piercing look. `What's up, Bran?'
Williams met his eyes fiercely – he had a real fighting spirit, this one, as Luke kept hearing. It would be much more exciting and uplifting hearing everyone praise this kid as the powerful new dirty defender United needed if he wasn't Luke's prime competition for his own spot on the starting lineup! But that hint of envy wasn't really in Luke's sportsmanlike character. He admired the young bloke even if he was taking up Luke's spot a little often right now.
`You wouldn't get it,' mumbled Brandon, every inch the surly teenager, making to push past him.
Luke blocked him uncomfortably, pulling on his sleeve a bit. Try me,' he grunted, then more soothingly, you don't seem right, mate, sorry.'
Brandon glowered at him but gave up pushing past, then looked anxiously back down the corridor, then shrugged Luke's hand roughly from his shoulder. Nah,' he said firmly in his rough local accent, I just need to get the fuck out of here for a bit.'
Then let me come with ya,' Luke insisted in a quiet, reassuring voice. If you're getting an earful off the gaffer, then me too.' He had a younger brother, and knew how to cut through this arsey performance. He stared Williams down without blinking, and the teenager just shrugged angrily, pulled away, and stomped ahead. Luke followed him a few paces behind, and turned after him into the empty physio room as he disappeared. He gently closed the door behind him and blinked in surprise as Brandon walked over and thumped the wall angrily in front of him with a deeply unhealthy cracking noise. Luke was momentarily unsure if it was the plaster of the wall or the bones in Brandon's hand, but maybe it was both.
As the teen yelped in pain at his own stupid behaviour, Luke bustled forward, pushing past him into the set of drawers until he found a cool pack. He grabbed at the shorter, slimmer player in a half-embrace, thrust the cool pack around his blistered red fist, held it there, and met his eyes in a firm but sympathetic stare. Brandon had a hint of tears in his blue-green eyes. They both turned as one to look at the cracks and dents in the centre of the wall.
`You fucking mug,' Luke said lightly, holding the cool pack tighter to his teammate's fist, and shaking his head.
Shit,' mumbled Brandon awkwardly. Oh shit...'
6'1 Luke smiled sympathetically down at his 5'7 rival, finding their height difference odd at this close proximity. Little Brandon was getting such a reputation as a Manchester warrior on the field, a tough kid who was making a big impact back there in defence... yet right now he looked like a scared fucking schoolboy next to Luke's broad, sturdy presence. So,' Shaw said slowly, what made you do that then, eh?'
Brandon scowled, pulled away a bit, taking the cool pack off him, so he could cradle his own throbbing hand, and lean back against the wall he'd pointlessly attacked. He rolled his eyes. That prick being made captain,' he said simply. What a load of shit.'
Luke had to pause there, a bit unsure what to say, since he was equal parts wanting to agree and to immediately censure the kid for such treason. He just stared at Brandon in confusion, turning over the phrase `fucking weirdo' again, and the 19-year-old's mindless aggression, and then... a penny dropped, and he felt a little lurch in his stomach.
Big lanky twat,' Brandon added, after a moment's scowling, standing up there, all smug, like he's really a team player, not some scumbag from Leicester City who...'
Mate,' Luke said nudgingly, what did he do to you?'
Brandon stopped, freezing up a bit, and glared back at him from beneath his thick brows and mop of dirty blond. `What? He did nowt. What did you hear?' The lad's voice had changed from gruffly aggressive to pitchier and nervous. And then he looked away, uncomfortable, and Luke let out a slow sigh of recognition.
`What have you got against Harry Maguire?' he asked patiently, changing tack. He glanced to the door of the small treatment room, then felt the need for more privacy, and popped over to tug down the blind over its little square window. It didn't lock from the inside, but the blind did its job. The little room felt suddenly more intimate. He turned back to Brandon, who had slumped into sitting position on the treatment bed, and Luke slowly went and joined him, two left-backs in matching tracksuits sitting side by side.
He stands up there, acting all high and mighty,' Williams said quietly. But he's a right fucking perv. The other week, in the gym, he- Fuck's sake. What's his game? Captain! Captain my fucking bell-end...'
Luke felt a tug of loyalty. The gaffer believes in him,' he said gently. And he is... Well. He is a leader.' He tapped his fingers at the edge of the bedframe beneath them for a moment. `Bran, mate... why do you call him a perv, eh? What... happened...?' He lifted a hand to the shorter defender's back with a gentle pat and rub.
`Nothing happened,' Williams lied, unconvincingly.
`Look... I know that... weird shit sometimes goes down, between guys like us. You know, sportsmen, and that... So I dunno what Harry did, but...'
We were in the gym,' Brandon blurted out, leaping from defensive to confessional. I just thought... well, I need to stack on some muscle, to really get my game...' There was an embarrassed look on his face then, and Luke took a few seconds to register that it was for his benefit. Did Brandon feel some guilt and muscling into his position? `So I saw Maguire in the gym, and... Fuck. I shouldn't be telling you this, Shaw.'
`You can do. I think... I think I might understand better than you expect.'
Brandon furrowed his brows again and looked as if he might punch another wall. He started getting weird and physical,' he said hotly, blushing. Next thing, we're on the weights benches, and he's... ugh. I don't know how it happened. He... he... he made me wank him off! And –`
`Made you?'
Well – not MADE me...' Williams squirmed a bit, shrugging Luke's hand off his back, and pulling himself up off the bench. It just – it all happened so fast – I guess I got excited, and...'
Excited?' Luke echoed, rising up off the sitting position himself, unable to suppress half a smile at this little admission amongst the anger. But Brandon caught his eye and looked pissed off. I'm in no position to judge you,' he added swiftly, holding up both hands. `I might have got... a bit excited with Harry myself, once or twice... erm...'
Panic and annoyance flashed over Brandon's face now. What, are you a fucking queer too then?' he demanded with flared nostrils. For a second it looked like he was about to swung his purpling bruised fist at Luke, who was ready to deflect a blow, then the kid just snorted and whirled around frustratedly. So what if I got excited?' he demanded, apparently of himself. `Gave him no right to... to... fucking hell, dunno what he thought was going on. He thought I was gonna... Ugh!'
Calm down,' Luke pleaded quietly, reaching for his shoulders. Look, just... tell me what went on. Maybe I can help.' He flinched as the young firecracker pushed him away, and he scratched at his beard and pulled at his hair for a moment. Like the captaincy, this was news, but was it a surprise? Dan James, Mason Greenwood... just how many of the lads here had Maguire fucked about with now, then?
Captain,' Brandon grumbled to himself, turning to glare again at his rival defender. We'll see about that.'
The gaffer chose him,' Luke said levelly, torn somewhere between loyalty and rejection. Bran...'
Brandon seemed to wilt a bit, dropping his tensed arms, and giving Luke a plaintive young expression. That black eye I had, when you got back from sick leave... It wasn't from a scrape at my mate's 18th birthday, it was... Harry did it.' A grumpy sigh. He smacked me after he'd made me... do stuff. Okay, not MADE me, but...'
Luke sighed, and reached a tender hand to the side of Brandon's face to stroke his cheek, feeling the downy stubble along there, the faint acne of the teen's skin. You could still make out the faint bruising just below the eye. What the fuck was Harry playing at, striking a teammate like that? Luke felt a surge of yet more conflicting emotions: sympathy for this youngster, anger at the abusive Yorkshireman, envy of what might have gone on between them while he was away... Just too much to process at once.
He wanted me to suck him,' Brandon whispered angrily. But I ain't gay.'
Luke felt himself mouthing the words me neither' but he couldn't say it. He pictured himself in the bath with Depay after that sweaty afternoon's delight. He wasn't sure he was going to put a label on himself, but he could hardly deny the fun he'd had in this last month or however long. But you tossed him off?' he said, as neutrally as he could. Brandon nodded glumly. `Did he do... anything to you?' Luke asked, and he tried desperately to hold down the envy and nosy rivalry in the question, though he was sure it was written on his face, if Brandon had just looked up properly at him in that moment.
`Nah, not really, other than fucking hit me... Well. I guess he did touch my cock. That felt weird.'
`Good weird, or bad weird?' Luke asked, and the question suddenly felt incredibly tense, in the cosy private space of the treatment room, shut off from the workings of the training centre. He watched as Brandon lifted his head to nervously meet his eyes. The lad couldn't seem to say an answer, but his shifty expression told Luke a familiar truth.
Later, he found it hard to define or explain what happened next. Was it genuine desire for the teenager? Was it just that he hadn't had any fun since flying back from Marseilles? Was it an attempt to piss off or compete with that dominant twat out on the training pitch? Or, most worryingly, was it just an attempt to be closer to Harry through sharing his conquests? Whatever the reason, Luke leaned in, and planted a gentle kiss on the lingering bruise of Brandon's cheek, then squeezed the side of his neck very tenderly.
`I ain't queer,' was all Williams could mutter, before pulling forward and resting his head on the firm muscle of Luke's chest.
That's alright,' Shaw said softly, pulling his arms about the short defender's strong young shoulders, and giving him a gentle squeeze. Fuck labels, mate.' He broke the hug, and picked up at Brandon's limp forearm, to inspect the sore knuckles from that stupid punch. He sighed again, leaned down, and brushed his soft lips over the sore skin, giving it a playful kiss, then winking. Brandon was still a teen, but there was only five years between them, right?
He's massive, isn't he?' Brandon asked in a slightly fearful whisper. I mean... down... there.'
Luke felt amused but also stung by this comment. (Massive? Massive hardly did it justice, for fuck's sake.) In response, he took hold of Brandon's other hand, the unhurt one, and pulled it down against the front of his tracksuit bottoms, against the rising heat of his crotch. Yeah, he is,' he muttered, but the rest of us do okay for ourselves.' He felt Brandon's uncertain fingers map the outline of his bulge, and then he returned the favour, reaching down and finding the Manc lad's semi in his matching black bottoms. For a minute or two, the lads just stood there, impossibly close, tickling at the hints of their private arousal.
`Harry said it wasn't a big deal,' Brandon mumbled.
I don't know if he's right,' Luke admitted. It's as big a deal as you want it to be, I guess?' Then he dropped his voice, and planted another suggestive kiss to the cheek. Don't worry. I'm not a fucking caveman like him. I won't hit you afterwards.' A soft chuckle from both of them now. Luke pushed his hand inside the fabric of Brandon's trackies, and felt him more firmly through his briefs. Now THAT feels like a big deal...'
This is risky,' Brandon said, but it didn't sound like a no'.
`On the bed,' Luke suggested with a smirk. He guided his young companion to it, giving the softest shove to encourage Brandon back onto it, then pressing up against him, stood between his legs. In a moment both of their cocks were out, and Luke tried to take them both in hand at once, rubbing his own solid erection against Brandon's, squeezing their lengths together and with his other arm hugging Brandon's groaning face into his chest muscles. He buried his lips and nose into the fluffy nest of Williams' hair and breathed in the cheap scent of his laddish shampoo.
`Oh Luke,' gasped the defensive prodigy.
Yes,' Shaw murmured happily, that feel good?'
He couldn't help but feel a rush of power. You didn't need to be a brute strength bully like Maguire to get your fun with this lad, he thought smugly, relishing his own charms and attractions. Like with Memphis, there was something liberating here, away from the shame and conflict of his encounters with a man like big Harry. He was seized then with the need to go further, and he pushed Brandon back a little more forcefully so he was sprawling out more on the rickety treatment bed, and Luke knelt in closer, and lapped his tongue over the pink head of his dick. Brandon's groan was intense, and Luke enjoyed this, but feared discovery. He pushed his hand over, but clamping it over that young gob seemed cruel; instead, he slid two fingers in for the teen to suck on, whilst he planted his lips to the tight hard-on and took as much of Williams' cock into his mouth as possible. It was a good size and girth, smaller than his own, but enjoyable and impressive.
Still, he wanted more: he felt some need to stake his own claim on this curious young lad, a defiance of Harry's dominant influence over them all. He pulled the fingers of his right hand out of Brandon's mouth, and lifted his head off the tasty cock for a moment, so he could more skilfully give the trackies a tug. He pulled them and the dark navy briefs beneath down, so they were stretch about halfway on the downy fuzz of Williams' thighs, then return his lips and tongue to that beautiful curved prick. Then, his fingers still wet with saliva, he pressed them beneath the lad's surpsingly big bollocks, against his gooch, and slid them into his crack.
`Oh fuck,' Brandon cried quietly.
`Give it a chance,' Luke urged through a mouthful of bell-end, and he lapped hungrily at the dick whilst questing his two fingers along the crack, finding and tickling the virginal hole there. It took him a while to edge one fingertip into the lad's entrance, but it had so much more impact than he anticipated: Brandon's groans got more intense, and the prick twitched and throbbed between the control of Luke's lips, and then came the hit of salty heat on his tongue and at the back of his throat. It surprised Luke but he swallowed and licked. He only dragged his mouth of that curved pink-hued shaft once he was sure he'd taken as much of the teen's seed as he could, then gasped for breath.
He pulled his finger from Brandon's hole, then with a moment's kink, slipped those two fingers back into Brandon's gasping mouth, before straightening back up on his feet, and putting his right hand firmly to his own rigid stiffy. He began to wank, stimulated by the manly taste on his tongue, and the sight of his young lover sprawled before him in the United training outfit, pulling on his own dick with force.
To his surprise, Brandon twisted about on the bed, still panting with his own climax, and lolled his head towards Luke's wanking. Those intense blue-grey eyes narrowed and looked in what seemed like fear at Luke's bobbing dick – away from the comparison of a bigger guy like Maguire, Luke knew it really was a good-sized tool, long enough and thicker than most. Too much for this anxious newbie to consider sucking, he realised, but... Brandon was resourceful, and excitable, and kinkier than he might have guessed. The young Mancunian leaned in and dodged the veiny shaft, but darted his tongue out below and began licking Luke's balls.
Oh man,' he exclaimed in surprise at this wet, frenzied attention. Oh, man...' He pulled on his dick and looked down in surprise as Brandon's alarmingly thick tongue lapped across his ballsack beneath his tugged cock, and ejaculation was soon there. His load shot right over Brandon's head and spattered the wall beyond in a trail of oozing droplets. Ohhh,' Luke groaned softly, ohh boy...'
Fuck you, Harry, he thought. Fuck you and your need to dominate. He smiled at the sprawled, writhing form of the other defender, then helped Brandon off the bed and onto his feet. The two men met gazes and let out nervous, excitable chuckles as they both stuffed their spent cocks back into their undies and trackies, sweat glistening on their brows. Luke took Brandon's sore hand and kissed it again, and looked about for where they'd discarded the cool pack.
`You are good at that,' Williams complimented apprehensively.
`Hah. Thanks. It... it wasn't exactly my first time,' Luke admitted.
`I guessed.'
And then awkward moments settled in the air between them. Luke found some tissues, and reached into his pants to wipe down his nob, passed another couple to Brandon, then he leaned over to wipe his mess off the wall. Behind him, he heard the teen whimper a bit at the pain in his hand, and glanced sympathetically his way.
He took advantage of me,' Brandon grunted simply. Luke felt some guilt at this phrase, but his defensive rival cut him off before he could apologise. No, just him. You... That was different. You're... That wasn't the same,' Brandon said firmly. I know I'm young, and a fucking dope, but...' He screwed his face up bitterly. He'll get what's coming to him, that smug cunt.'
`Bran...'
I mean it,' Williams told him sharply. Thanks for that, Luke. It were... fun.'
`It was,' Luke agreed, though it sounded like a grammar correction in his contrasting accent.
But Harry Maguire?' The youth spat on the floor between them. He won't last long as captain, not if I have anything to do with it. You hear me?'
Luke didn't say anything. Partly, he felt there was something sadly impotent in the teen's threat, but he also didn't like the aggression of it. Perhaps it just stung his lingering loyalty to the first man he'd touch in this way. He threw crumpled tissues in the bin, wiped his face on his sleeve, and thought through their situation. He would have to defend Brandon in some lie about why they'd missed training now, some first aid crisis over the sore hand, or...
`You know the weirdest bit?' Brandon asked him, suddenly.
`Weirdest bit of what?' Luke asked, feeling a moment's guilt for his attempt at fingering the younger player. Had that been too much too soon?
When he was cumming, he said your name,' Brandon said, irritably. He's fucking messed up. I dunno who he thinks he is. But he'll get his comeuppance, I fuckin' swear it, pal. I don't know how, but just you watch. I'll get him back for that shit in the gym. The pushy pervy cunt.' When Luke didn't answer, he just shrugged, wiped his face in the same way, and reached for the door to go.
Luke stood there, staring into the middle distance, turning over that revelation. When Harry Maguire had shot his load with another guy, he'd said Luke's name.
What. The. Fuck?