Part 396: Alpha/Beta
He pulled the new England home kit over his head and shoulders and down the sculpted muscle of his upper body, shuffling into comfort and giving the glossy retro football short a few tugs on the chest to make it look right about his broad shoulders, then examining himself thoughtfully in the full-length mirror at one end of the large plush hotel suite. It wasn't his first time sliding into the latest Three Lions jersey and examining its old-school charm, having posed in it at a photoshoot earlier in the year like several other well-known faces of the various national squads, but it was different getting a proper look at it now and trying it on in his room, trying to imagine himself stepping out in it under the floodlights of this summer's Euros, a tournament the pundits were tripping over themselves to tip England for winning...
Here he was for yet another international camp under Southgate, but Euros selection was far from a given for the 33-year-old, despite Gareth's penchant for loyalty and familiarity in his squad selection. The handsomely bearded midfielder wasn't so much vainly admiring his sharp jawline or broad chest as he posed in front of the mirror in this footy shirt, more trying to imagine himself stepping out in his final tournament at the heart of Southgate's 11. Playing outside of the Premier League spotlight, entering his mid-30s, was the Northerner already moving out of his international prime...?
`Here, let me at that mirror,' mumbled the voice of his much-younger roommate, and Jordan Henderson stepped obligingly to one side, pulling and fiddling with the jersey sleeves where they hugged at his biceps; he was still in fighting form and could show up some of his young colleagues on the training ground in fitness drills, so he was pretty sure that the England gaffer was right to show faith and keep selecting him.
`I like it,' murmured the younger player distractedly, but Henderson had already decided positively on the new home and away kits when he was picked out to model them alongside the likes of Kane, Grealish and Foden - and of course Trent Alexander-Arnold, although their sessions at the photography studio had not overlapped, and the young Scouser was now conspicuously absent from the England selection settling into this Surrey hotel.
`Yeah,' Jordan said vaguely, stepping out of the light of the mirror to allow the youngster his vanity, and already beginning to shrug off and remove the new jersey, baring his pale lean muscles and crossing the shared room; he was momentarily picturing the attractive larger-than-life photo mural of them modelling the kit down in the reception area of the England training base, which had seen him looking fondly up at a 10ft Trent whilst he checked in this afternoon - it was a shame that Trent wasn't here this week, Jordan was daring to hope that relations between them might soon begin to thaw.
Yeah, I really like it,' continued the gentle voice of the young lad now posing in front of the mirror, and Henderson turned to shoot a fond smile at the inevitable youthful vanity of the lauded 20-year-old - he was strutting very confidently in front of the room's single full mirror and pouting quite intensely at himself in reflection. Jude Bellingham had seemed quite offended when looking at the wall-mounted photography down in reception, though it was pretty obvious that his Spanish commitments had made him a less likely model for the new kit than others... But you're not in England either,' the youth had complained quite seriously, and Jordan had enjoyed that reminder - more evidence that he was still big in the gaffer's plans despite his rather ill-fated spell at El-Attifaq and his current position at Dutch side Ajax - he was of course just as prominent and handsome on the big display in the foyer, posing in this very home kit and folding strong arms across his chest.
Jordan stood by his bed and neatly folded the shirt, preparing to find and pull back on his grey Puma t-shirt which he'd worn for their gentle sunset kickabout on the training pitches, yet to be issued their shiny new training gear for tomorrow's big sessions and media duties - today had been the usual protracted interactions of gradual arrivals and check-ins, a very informal first bit of team bonding with a football, and next the guys were due downstairs in the hotel restaurant for their first meal together, looking ahead to the two minor March fixtures that awaited them.
Jude, he noticed with a grin, continued to admire himself and cut different poses for the mirror, his lean brown face very serious and focused; he was growing up quickly, filling out and stepping into his persona as a world superstar, enjoying every bit of deserved success in La Liga. It was hard not to admire and enjoy for any English football fan, Jordan would happily admit, but it was already becoming strange to picture the quiet teenager who had first poked his nose into the England senior squad a couple of years back, compared to the 20-year-old Galactica who was preening in front of him.
The 20-year-old Brummie must have turned and caught his nostalgic smirk, because he asked a slightly awkward What's up?' and then checked himself, asking a bit more warmly, What are you laughing at, Hendo?'
Nothing,' the Sunderland-born senior player chuckled dismissively, putting down the new jersey and fishing up his own tee, moving around the half-settled organisation of his belongings on his side of the room, then deciding that he needed to piss. He changed the subject, crossing the room. Was everyone actually there at kickabout, or are some people still to check in tonight...?'
Jude quietly ignored his question, perhaps still a little paranoid at Jordan's smirk and chuckle, or just still busy deciding how good he looked in the traditionalist England attire; regardless, Hendo crossed over into the adjoining bathroom of the now-familiar Surrey hotel that adjoined their sophisticated training centre. He pushed down the front of his shorts, an old Liverpool pair he wore for nostalgia's sake, and pissed echoingly in the bowl, then moving to wash his hands and inspect the minor signs of ageing in his strong handsome features - pausing as he caught sight of Jude over his bare shoulder in the mirror, now filling the bathroom doorway and leaning in its frame.
Jordan smiled vaguely at him in the reflection, splashing some water on his face, and then turning around with a hand-towel doing its business between his damp paws. `Finished posing, or is this some more?' he chided quietly, noting that the 6ft1 youth had also shed his England jersey and was baring the tight clear muscles of his abdomen and chest as he leaned there, hands in the pockets of his black Birmingham City sweatpants, clearly a lad who shared Jordan's sentimentality for clubs left behind.
Again, Jude seemed to blank the question, a little rudely, but he was definitely looking this way, and not at himself in the wall-mounted mirror - the same rather serious expression clouded his long handsome features, the same rather showy pout. Jordan raised his dark brown brows and smiled a bit more naturally at the tall imposing youth, taking a short step towards him with the intention of exiting their bathroom - but Bellingham straightened up and filled the space, shoulders squared and chest puffed, hands still buried in pockets. It was confrontational body language, albeit not remotely threatening, and Jordan gave his young roommate a lopsided grin.
`What's this?' the former Liverpool skipper asked almost playfully.
What you've been wanting,' said Jude now, and there was something quite self-consciously purring and seductive in the way he softened his Stourbridge accent - an attempted meanness in his face that Hendo couldn't help but find vaguely amusing rather than exciting or, god forbid, intimidating - Oh?' he answered lightly, and one of Jude's hands went from pocket to squeezing the front of those Birmingham sweats - `Yeah, this,' the 20-year-old grunted boldly, emphasising the outline of his package in the dark comfort-wear - and Jude just smiled quietly at him, standing right in front of him, an inch shorter but a little more thickset and mature in his physique.
`You're keen,' was the senior midfielder's only remark.
And I bet you are,' Bellingham growled, quiet but serious. Bet you've been thinking about it since we met at the airport and checked in here - get on your knees, Hendo.' He looked serious, intense, focused - and Jordan smiled quietly back into his eyes for a moment before breaking into playful laughter and clasping his strong hands to the lad's bare shoulders, taking him in hand and giving him a soft but commanding shove backwards to allow himself past and out of the bathroom.
Oh,' Jordan trilled quite mockingly, he's a big La Liga alpha now, is he?' He brushed past the big strong youngster, shaking his head, and moving into the centre of the room, then turning to fix the younger player with a more serious expression of his own, the kind of stern stare he'd used as a captain when dealing with boisterous or unprofessional younger talent - I'd thank you not to try pulling that shit on a bloke my age, kid, unless you want a broken nose and a room swap in your near future.' He smiled, but more acidly, and watched the immediate change in Jude's posture and expression - that intense pose and uptight squareness dissipated and the youngster sagged, eyes wide and lips mumbling a Sorry' as he motioned forward in embarrassment.
Not to worry,' the 33-year-old Mackem said quite gruffly and unsmilingly, cutting across the younger man's mumbled embarrassment, and folding his arms over his bare chest as Jude came up in front of him - Well, best get it out if you want it played with,' he said archly, smirking mischievously at the young poser who had tried to corner him so dominantly a moment ago and now looked mortified and silly - Jude hesitated in front of him, shirtless and buff too, and fingering the elasticated waist of his sweatpants and undies. Jordan stared him down with an impassive smile and bulging biceps, raising a single brow. `What? Have you changed your mind, kid? Not so horny after all?' Jude just stared back, seeming dopey and confused, looking momentarily returned to the gangly teen who had debuted amongst them from Borussia Dortmund.
Let me help ya,' Jordan chuckled, and he stepped in. He took a bare brown shoulder in one hand and pushed the other inside the front of Jude's pants, feeling the fat semi and rough stubbly pubes, and noting the immediate relief and excitement on the younger lad's face. He grinned in close at him and laughed. I thought you'd lost interest there cos you didn't get the reaction you wanted, Mr Madrid - but remember who you're chatting to, will ya man, it's me, not some Spanish little slut - who's been on their knees for you out there in Madrid, giving you these ideas that you're a big dog alpha male kinda thing...?'
`Sorry,' Jude mumbled again, looking and sounding a bit ashamed, but mainly grateful to have his cock rubbed and stroked, and beginning to push down now at his underpants and the sweats, backing onto the foot of the bed; Jordan moved with him, stroking that hand up the firm ridges of his six-pack, but then fishing into the front of his own shorts; as Jude fell into a seated position on the foot of the bed, Jordan brought one leg up in a short lunge, onto the bedding, and he pulled back on the leg of the shorts so that his stiffening cock came loose down his thigh. He stood there, pointing it at the youngster like a gun, and seeing an appropriate terror in the widening of eyes and flaring of nostrils.
Oh come on,' the Ajax midfielder said bluntly. You can't just expect to have a load of attention and not give anything back, man - is that what they've been teaching you in La Liga...?'
Jude looked at him in silent questioning - it's not as if his expectations were ridiculous, given the way both Hendo and his ex-boyfriend had fawned over the 6ft1 stud in the past, but Jordan hadn't liked the showy arrogance or pretended authority with which the lad 13 years his junior stepped up to him just now. No, he thought, this was needed, and better - it was time the sexually curious young prodigy became a bit more worldly. He pulled back on the glossy Liverpool shorts and teased his own rigid cock, and then nodded firmly at the lad whose face was inches from it. Give it a rub,' he instructed, and he helped out - he took Jude's hand and brought it in against the firmness of his shaft, encouraging a slow rub, and watching the tremor of Jude's bottom lip. Now,' Hendo asked firmly, `that ain't the worst thing in the world, is it?'
Jude stared first at his cock and then at him; he didn't look sure. `I've never...'
I know you aint,' the Mackem grunted. How's it feel?'
`I- I dunno. You're hard.'
`Yeah, I am. And I won't pretend you ain't the main reason, kid.'
`Huh. You could have just...'
I think you're getting a bit big for your boots, young alpha,' Jordan grunted. We all know you're gonna be better than any of us, but... you're young. Learn some respect.' He closed Jude's hand about his dick and stroked it with him in a few slow movements, watching his flickering eyes, his embarrassed regretful face... and stroked his shoulder and arm a little more affectionately. `You'll be a better man for it,' he promised, before flopping down onto the bedding next to him and tugging his shorts and underwear fully away, down his fluffy thighs and past his knees. He lay there, watching the nervous way Jude licked his lips and turned on his side, reaching down for his prick...
You first,' Hendo said firmly, propped on his side, and cupping his heavy bollocks and perky shaft from beneath. You're gonna give this a taste before you get what you want, mate.'
Lying in front of him, Jude's whole body stiffened to match the heavy veiny cock in his grip; he stared back with obvious anger and then seemed to look resentfully down at the cock he'd struck, then back into Jordan's unmoving grin, then about the room distractedly - he was weighing up a sulk and a storming off, Jordan could tell, but he could see from the swollen monster how horny and riled the young pretender was, faced now with a real alpha. It was a good job, Jordan thought vaguely, that the pouting young hero had tried it on with him and not one of the other senior dominant men on their England squad, because he wasn't sure how the likes of Maguire would have handled this confrontation.
Go on,' he told his young roomie. It won't hurt you. Just a taste.'
Jude stared at it, and at him, and made a few beginnings of talking, but just grunting and sighing in an exasperated way - and then he took Jordan's dick in his hand and gave it some tentative strokes that were all the more pleasurable for their resentful uncertainty. I've never-' he began to drone again but Jordan cut him off - Just give it a little lick, and try it out, and I promise I'll suck you til you scream, Bells.' And he sprawled back, opening his thick legs ,and posing one strong arm behind his neck and head for support - with the other he helped Jude's hand to pull up and down his own long firm shaft in gentle strokes, then tickled his own balls and let Jude's hand continue for a few strokes. Bellingham shifted closer, rising up on his knees and then stooping forward. He stared, still almost resentfully into Hendo's eyes, and held himself in a crouch just over the former captain's crotch - he spat down accurately against the head of it and rubbed his wet palm up and down it, and Jordan treated him to a little Mmm' of pleasure before reaching to stroke the muscles of his resting arm. But - That ain't the same as taking it in your mouth, matey.'
And so, cowed by the friendly authority of Henderson, Bellingham stooped lower, looking frankly terrified, and open his lips - and Jordan clenched his glutes and raised his hips, and guided his excited cock to meet that hesitant mouth. He let his tip brush those full lips, chuckling softly as Jude pulled aside and tried again. He held the base of his cock and let his massaging hand move up Jude's arm onto his shoulder and then his neck, and he guided him to meet his prick - he felt the lips part and move over the head of his dick, felt the nervous touch of tongue on head. Mmm,' he groaned loudly, even though Jude pulled back again and made a retching face as if he was about to rush off to the loo - Go on,' he purred eagerly and commandingly, `give it a proper suck for me, man.'
It took a little more cajoling, a little more gentle massaging touch to the neck and shoulder, and a few more grimacing retreats, but he eased his dick into that virgin mouth and felt Jude's tongue slide across his shaft - Bellingham knew what to do, from his own selfish enjoyment, but he seemed terrified to go for it, seemed too sure of his disgust before he had a chance to change his mind. But he tried, out of submission or loyalty, the beta man to Henderson's alpha status, and there was something sweet and loveable in his compliance - but Jordan was hardly going to force it and be so selfish, so he stopped when he'd pushed half of his tool into Jude's uncertain mouth and heard the spluttering coughs that followed. He laughed and stroked his wet dick and began to sit up.
Bellingham's face looked relieved at this small sign of satisfaction, but Hendo shook his head, taking only a slow brief hold and pull of the young lad's big throbber - Get on your hands and knees,' he growled - this time he could see the same slow terror dawn on the Real Madrid warrior's face, but he could see no intention to defy or argue, he could see the compliance of someone who was thinking only with their erection. Still, Jude moved slowly and uncomfortably, turning away and lifting back onto his knees, pants bunched about his ankles - and he asked W-w-what do you w-w-wanna do?' as Jordan creaked the bed by sliding off it and getting to his feet at its end.
This, he thought, was a good view: the La Liga sensation, England's great new export, posed on hands and knees on the bed, with his powerful legs parallel brown trunks, and his smooth bare back meeting them in the strong bulging mounds of his mocha-brown buttocks. Jordan stood at the foot of the bed and pulled back and forth on his cock, wet with Jude's spittle, and so close to cumming already. He let the stammering question hang in the air, enjoying the implied submission of the nervously open demand, and certainly excited by the prospect of fulfilling its worst fear - but much more measured and realistic in his expectations. Still, he quietly left Jude wondering and tense, as he sank down to the edge of the bed and rested on one hand on one strong glute, whilst the other teased his own member: his turn to spit, parting the smooth brown cheeks first and gobbing into the darker hairier furrow between them, finding the attractive pink pinpoint of the young man's rosebud. Jordan spot noisily into it again, feeling the kneeling body shiver, and then he lowered his face and went for it - he knew his beard must tickle the unexpecting cheeks, but he buried his face between the strong glutes and ran his tongue against the quivering virgin hole.
To Henderson's delicious enjoyment, Bellingham moaned immediately and loudly, and his crack tasted a little sweaty from the light play on the field; Jordan rimmed him with the skill he'd developed as he eased first Neco and then Trent into taking him, applying his tongue to their holes in the same way he'd sent his wife over the edge all through their rich sexual relationship.
Bellingham moaned and whimpered, sounding more submissive than ever, and Jordan gripped the sides of his arse and really went for it, pausing only to spit and slobber, and to prise the tight cheeks further apart - he didn't bother to try a finger, knowing how tight this arrogant young arse would be, but he ate it as much as he could, and stopped only when his own greed told him that it was time to suck. Then he helped to flip Jude into a lying position, legs in the air, and he briefly rimmed him some more at this more awkward angle, face pressed up against his gooch and balls, and he'd spunked his own load into his hand and lap moments before he even lifted his head and applied his strong masculine mouth to the girth and length of Jude's weapon.
Still pulling on his tingling cock and oozing out the last of his load, Jordan brought his head bobbing up and down, sucking hungrily on this big cock as he had a couple of times before, finally giving over the oral service that the 20-year-old had tried to bully out of him in the bathroom door as if he was the one in charge - he definitely had a few things to learn, this young king of Spain, about his place in this pride of lions.
Of course, Jude didn't last, and Jordan soon took a little of his salty depost in his mouth, letting the rest spill messily as he pulled away panting. He licked more of it from the big swollen head and then just kissed his balls and in his inner thighs and - once more for luck - stooped down to slurp a lick against his arse-crack.
Henderson, his own chest heaving, got up from the edge of the bed and stood there tidying his shorts and the heavy stiff contents that was pushed back into them. He laughed gently and rubbed his dirty mouth on the back of one hairy arm, 6ft of pale muscular authority at the foot of the bed. In front of him, Jude trembled and moaned, recovering slowly, and looking still anxious about the things he'd tried - Jordan had no idea whether anyone, man or woman, had ever tasted that perfect arse, but the writhing surprise of the youngster suggested it was new and taboo for him. As he straightened himself up and tugged his pants roughly up his long mighty legs, Jude shot him a conflicted look, a mixture of resentment and gratitude, and Jordan found and tossed him his t-shirt, then went away towards the bathroom.
He paused in the doorway, only half-consciously aping the dominant pose with which the Brummie had earlier confronted him: the 33-year-old posed a little more naturally in the doorframe and scratched at the outline of his wilting hard-on. Here,' he barked at the other prime midfielder. Come on, I'll scrub your back in the shower if you're quick, sexy.' He saw Jude hesitant but then quickly swing off the bed and scurry to join him, gawky and gangly again in his 6ft1 towering height, nervous in his disposition, but ready to do as the Liverpool daddy asked - and Jordan just chuckled and pulled him into a manly hug in the doorway, before pushing him towards the shower and dropping his shorts.
You're a sexy young bastard, Jude,' he told him as he knocked on the hot water and passed him the soap, but don't you ever try that again, okay? I'm nobody's bitch. Now - turn around and let me soap up that amazing body, okay?'
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