Part forty-eight: The Storm
`For fuck's sake,' was Kyle Walker's immediate reaction, slumped in a seat near the back of the meeting room where they'd all been gathered for the news. The bulky 29-year-old thumped a fist gently on the table in front of him and hunched his rounded shoulders.
Beside him, John Stones felt a similar droop, though the news was not a great shock, all things considered. A ripple of disappointment but acceptance crossed the meeting room of the Etihad. Ahead of them all, Guardiola had his arms folded sternly and a similarly frustrated look on his own face as he continued his talk. Postponement of the game was annoying as the lads had been sweating so hard to get ready for it these past few days, but it would also mean an extra match at some other busy point of the season, no doubt, where they would have to host West Ham all over again.
John looked from the patiently explaining manager and his assistant out to the windows lining the long wall. It really was fucking windy out there, but it didn't look half as bad as the predictions had claimed. All the same, it was a long way up from East London, so it did make sense, and it could be fucking nasty out there by late afternoon when the game was scheduled.
`Other games are going ahead, though,' Walker grumbled mutinously beside him, looking particularly piqued at the day's news.
`Shit happens, I guess,' John told him quietly, noting his physical display of annoyance, slightly at odds with the more resigned and philosophical approach a lot of their teammates were taking. One by one the lads began to get up as Guardiola finished his talk and dismissed them.
`Now I suggest you get home safely and spend the day indoors,' the Spaniard said in serious tones, a final nod before departing the meeting room with a determined gait.
John got up from his chair and stretched, playing with the zip of his tracksuit top and giving Kyle a nudge with his knee. Come on, sulky pants,' he said playfully. Can't frown Storm Ciara away, for fuck' sake.' Kyle got up slowly with more muttered curses, and the two of them walked through the milling players on their way out. There were others getting worked up over the last-minute cancellation: with his usual Argentine temper, Sergio Aguero was mouthing off and holding court to a couple of the other South Americans. Even mild-mannered Kevin De Bruyne was ranting to Sané, who was silent but moody-looking.
Stones noticed Foden looking meek and quiet beside them, arms folded in a youthful echo of their manager: of course HE was keeping his mouth shut. The treatment of the Golden Boy had been a bit different since the away game night and the expensive whore. For the same reason, John walked on quietly out of the meeting room and into the corridor without engaging in any of these mardy little one-to-ones. Like young Phil, he knew he was hardly in favour at the moment, and it was better to keep a low profile than to say the wrong thing to the wrong bloke and get caught up in something. Nope, not worth it. The game was off and there was nothing to be done about it.
You could hear the stormy winds even in this passage, he noted. He glanced back with a twinge of guilt at Foden, who was silently listening to the other two, and for a second he caught his eye. Was that an expression of resentment or annoyance on the slim young scally lad's face, or was Stones just imagining it?
Kyle stomped along behind him and blocked his view, still scowling to himself. Just got all that energy, y'know?' the burly Yorkshireman muttered, scratching his stubbly beard. Been building up to this all week, really going for it.'
I know you have,' John agreed loyally, but come on, chill. It is what it is.'
What does that even mean?' Walker snapped at him. John just raised an eyebrow at this and awaited his apology. Sorry, sorry, lad... just...' Kyle blew out a sigh. `Was really counting on this match to prove myself again, have been shite the last couple... and you know, with Pep fining us and all... Ugh.'
Stones reached out to pat his shoulder. Aye, it sucks,' he agreed. But... Come on. It ain't so bad. Afternoon off now, right?'
`Yeh, I guess...'
Gaffer probably right,' Stones said, as they strolled on down the corridor, ought to get my tram home before shit gets nasty outside...'
Kyle just grunted a bit, flexing his arms, then suddenly pausing so that John walked on a few steps before noticing, and turned to him. He looked questioningly at his close pal and teammate, starting to sense just how deeply the postponed West Ham game was hitting him in his current mood. Walker looked, as he often did, like a big mass of energy that needed to be unleashed. John often thought that his mate and fellow England player looked more like a rugger or a wrestler than footballer, so dense and aggressive.
`I might hit the gym.'
John frowned his surprise. `What, now?'
Aye, why not?' The short broader bloke rolled his shoulders a bit and swayed his hips to stretch it out, and gave John a quizzical look. You up for it?'
Well...' Stones paused. It certainly hadn't been his first reaction: he was thinking more about getting home, seeing his kid, maybe a fucking nap, get a takeaway in... It had been a rough few days of extra training, knowing most of their rival teams were already off on a break, so... But he could see the needy impatience in his mate's eyes, and wondered if he just needed to put in some gym time to keep the old grump company. He nodded and smiled. Aye, just a quick sesh though, mate?'
Downstairs in one of several fitness suites, the windows rattled at the winds, flecked with the first signs of the heavy rains the storm was sweeping over the UK. John stood resting for a moment between weight machines to watch it, beginning to think how soaked he would get on his journey home, since his girlfriend had borrowed his car and he was stuck with public transport across the city. Kyle passed him by strolling away from the free weights and slurping from a bottle of water, and seemed to read his mind.
`Mate, I'll give you a list,' panted Walker warmly.
`Hmm? Oh, cheers mate, that would be great.' He lifted the front of his grey Adidas training top and wiped his sweaty face on it. For all his doubts, he was glad he'd followed Kyle down to the gym, actually. There was a certain build-up of physical tension on the day of a game, and the strange anti-climax of its postponement had left a lot of restless energy in both lads, and it was great to spend some of it down here working on his fitness. And Kyle was a good guy to train with, since he pushed himself hard and expected the same from others. He dropped his shirt back down over his defined abs and clapped his clammy palms together, deciding what to do for a last burst of exercise before trying to persuade Kyle it was time to fuck off, like everyone else already had.
But to his left, Kyle had walked past the machines and was making over to the rack of other miscellaneous kit: what was he up to now?
`Did you see Lil Phil upstairs bricking his trackies?' John asked idly, adjusting his short shorts and padding softly along the room after his mate.
`Hah, yeh, definitely.'
`Think he's still in Pep's bad books?'
`Seems that way, although... can't last, can it? Sun shines out of his skinny arse.'
`Seems to, seems to. What are you getting out?'
Walker turned around with a flashy grin, sweaty in his loose-fitting skimpy black vest, much of his chest on show as well as the bulging muscles of his arms, and a near-identical pair of running shorts on his bottom half. Come on,' he said, waving a pair of boxing gloves about, I still got SO much energy to burn, mate...'
John groaned. `Are you serious? I was just winding down.'
`Few rounds, lad, that's all!'
`Okay, okay... But go fucking easy, will ya?'
Stones scowled regretfully as, a minute or two later, he was strapping his hands into the soft pads and preparing for a `few rounds'. Kyle loved a box to keep his fitness up, though John often found himself not quite agile enough, and he'd already worked his arms as much as he felt right this afternoon. But if this would shut up and cheer up the grumpy midfielder, then so be it.
He circled onto the mat, already clammy with his own sweat, flexing and stretching and lifting up his hands ready to pad, whilst Kyle cricked his neck, relaxed his arms a bit, and took up a fighter's stance. And then thwack, bam, oof, etc. All the Batman sound effects. Walker packed a mean punch, and John could feel the force of them in his wrists and down his arms, bracing himself against flurry after flurry. He watched those powerful arms unleash, and Kyle's wrinkled mask of aggression, and the drips of sweat from his hooked nose and tufty chin.
`Easy, bro,' Stones laughed after a little while, but Kyle seemed to ignore him.
Come on, put em higher. That's it.'
And off he went again. The two men circled each other on the mat. The muted slap of glove and pad sounded between their footfalls and heavy breathing. John was always surprised how energetic and testing it was even just being on this side of the punches, never mind using your arms at full force. It wasn't training that many footballers took to, but Kyle was like a beast uncaged here. It was a bit intimidating, if he was honest, but also... a bit exciting.
Right,' John panted eventually, deflecting a quick few hooks and thrusts then taking a step back, I reckon that's us done.'
`Nah, come on,' Kyle said, following his step with a quick darting movement and taking another swing. Stones gritted his teeth as one, two and then three more punches battered the pads on his hands and forced him back to the edge of the mat, the sweaty force of a man bearing down on him, so... his ankle twisted on the edge of the exercise mat and he tumbled back a little, misplacing the pad as he did so, and feeling a cushioned blow of one of Walker's fists smack him in the shoulder.
Dizzied, he went down clumsily onto his arse and back and cracked both elbows against the harder gym floor. `Fuck's sake,' he moaned loudly as his tall athletic body settled uncomfortably in this awkward fall, and the other guy came leaning over him with a face wide with guilt.
`Mate, sorry,' Kyle said in a rush.
`You need to calm down,' Stones grunted a little bitterly, his patience wearing thin.
The 29-year-old brute forced a laugh as he leant over and almost straddled him, panting and looking apologetic. `Ah, fuck, you okay?' he asked, unstrapping his gloves clumsily with the limited dexterity they gave, then tossing them aside and flexing his throbbing knuckles. He leant over to inspect where he'd struck John's shoulder, and drops of sweat fell from his body against John's kit. John was struggling to prop himself with his own hands in his stupid pads, and so Kyle grabbed a hand to each strong arm and helped to drag him upright, pulling their hot, pulsing bodies together for a few moments as he did. Once John was on his feet, he felt like he was really leaning forward into the shorter stockier man, resting against him as he tested an aching ankle with a hint of worry: an injury as silly as this mid-season would be a fucking nightmare.
Hey, buddy,' Kyle panted, squeezing his biceps a little and keeping him close, I am sorry-`
Yeah well,' grumbled John resentfully. He twisted and tested the ankle but it didn't feel too bad. Still. He huffed a sigh, feeling the firm heat of Kyle's upper pecs beneath his forearms, the skin slippery with sweat. He met Kyle's pleading expression of redemption and couldn't hold in a shaky laugh at the puppy-dog eyes and pouting bottom lip. Oh fuck off,' he chuckled, `who do you think you are, Anthony fucking Joshua?' He pulled away from the heat of his mate's body, shaking himself and rubbing at his face.
I told you,' Kyle muttered, just too much energy, needed using up. Sorry.'
`Stop apologising.'
`Yep, will do... sorry. Hah.'
`God, you're a monster when you let go,' Stones commented meaningfully, taking a few steps away and reaching for his water battle from where he'd rested it. The windows shook and rattled again. Outside, the light seemed to be fading prematurely. The storm was rising, and even in here, the air felt thick with its tension.
Kyle followed him, grabbed his shoulders from behind in a massaging gesture. `Well, you've seen me fuck, kid, you know I don't hold back,' came his thuggish voice.
John laughed, but couldn't help dwell on the memory: that first time, voyeuristic and embarrassing, and more recently, spit-roasting that hot girl in the hotel room and eager young Phil at their sides... Hah, there really was something similar about the force and brutality of the boxing and what he'd witnessed from his older teammate, though the link made him feel a bit uneasy, especially with those strong hands rubbing into his shoulders through the thin stretchy grey fabric. Kyle tightened his grip on his shoulders and seemed to be looking over them to the windows too.
`Fuck, it is getting bad, ain't it?' he breathed. John could feel his hot breath on his neck.
`It really is. We should go, mate.'
Kyle loosened his massaging fingers then just patted him. `Yup. Get your bag, mate, I'll drive ya.'
John pulled his tracksuit back on over his top but stuffed the longer pants into his backpack and topped up his water bottle. Once Kyle was ready too, the pair left the gym behind and locked up. Reaching the nearest exit, they both paused and took in just how wild the weather was. The skies were bucketing down on the Etihad car park, and typically, Walker had parked right at the other end of the concrete stretch, which was almost entirely deserted now. The two men looked at each other in a mix of annoyance and amusement, then ran for it. The lashing rainfall was an icy post-gym shower, and they were both drenched through seconds after quitting the building.
By the time they were splashing through the last few puddles and nearing Kyle's expensive sports car, John felt like he'd been for a swim, and he stood uncomfortably at the passenger door impatiently whilst Kyle scrabbled in pocket after pocket. `Oh yeah, take your time!' he joked, blinking gushing water from his eyes.
`Just a sec...'
There was a bleep and a flare of lights as the car unlocked. John wrenched open the passenger door and flung himself, sodden wet, into the seat, slamming the door shut after him and heaving a damp sigh of relief as Kyle did the same. Again, the two close teammates gave each other a look and burst out laughing, shaking themselves and groaning in dismay.
And this, my good man, is why you pay for HEATED SEATS,' Walker burst out, fingering a panel in the dashboard. And then, sitting up stiffly, he began wrenching off his soaking wet hoody and the vest beneath it, crumpling the damp clothes and hurling them into the leather of the back seat, baring his clammy damp muscles and detailed tattoo. Give it a minute and your arse will be toasty,' he promised.
`You mind if I do the same?' John asked, feeling how wet and clingy his top was.
Mate, be my guest, I need these off too!' And unceremoniously, Kyle hoisted his arse up a bit and pulled down on his shorts, stripping right down to his bright blue briefs and sitting his damp body back down against the leather. Fuck, though,' he said, `even these are sopping, like I've pissed my pants or summat, haha...' John instinctively looked over: he was right, the fabric of the bulging briefs was taut and dark and, as a result, the outline of his nestled cock was even clearer in them.
As the interior of the car gradually heated up a couple of notches, John unzipped and slung off his wet tracksuit top and peeled at the skintight grey below, shoving them backwards into the wet pile on the backseat, then thumbed hesitantly at his own shorts before figuring `what the hell' and joining the driver in stripping to his pants. He pulled the shorts over his thighs and down over his knees until he was just sitting there in his own white briefs, which he hadn't really considered: they were much more translucent than Kyle's in this soaked state, and you could almost make out every pube against the base of his flaccid member. He laughed nervously at this detail and Kyle saw too and then both men were laughing.
`Good job the windows are steaming up, eh,' Walker announced jokily.
They really were. The heat and damp were quickly combining so that the car felt amusingly intimate, the windscreen and side-windows clouding up around them as the car heating kicked into gear. John could just about feel the hint of the heated seating beneath his chilly backside and against his spine. He relaxed into it, pushing his head back against the headrest, and sighed. `Fucking hell, we just got violated by Ciara,' he joked awkwardly.
And after you'd already had a pummelling from me,' Kyle laughed hoarsely next to him; he reached over and patted a hand over John's arm a few times, and they both sat there catching their breath, letting the warm air tingle against their damp skin. After the silence, I didn't go too hard on ya mate, did I?'
`Well... just a bit hah... nah, it's cool... You needed to... let off steam.'
I really fucking did, mate. Fuck.' And the hand came over again, patting first John's wrist, and then his thigh, settling against the warming flesh just over his tattoo. Cheers for hanging back with me like that, you're such a good mate. Needed that.' A gentle squeeze. John patted a hand on top of it, at first with the vague intention of brushing it away, but then just resting atop it for a few moments, enjoying the expression of gratitude. John realised that Kyle was looking his way and twitched his head to meet his eyes, unsure what the intense expression on his friend's face really meant.
`What?' he asked with an uneasy smile.
`Nowt,' Kyle grunted, but didn't take his eyes away yet.
`You're getting soft in your old age, man,' Stones laughed, and he pushed the hand off his thigh and shifted in the seat, which now did feel markedly warm against his buttocks. He sighed at the pleasant sensation of the leathery softness and warmth, then realised Kyle was still staring at him a bit, as if there was something on his face. He blinked confusedly at his mate. Outside, the storm sounded louder and wilder than ever, rainfall thundering against all sides of the car.
It's probably unsafe to drive in this shit,' coughed Stones. I mean, maybe we should wait here a bit?'
Kyle nodded his head very slightly, and finally looked away. Aye, probably.' Then, he shook himself, and twisted round a bit in his seat. Let's look at that shoulder of yours -- do you think it'll bruise?' Twisting a bit, he leaned over, and brushed a couple of fingers across one of John's pecs towards where his stray punch had struck: John shivered a little at the cool touch on his bare skin, and flinched as Kyle found the sore spot. Again, their bodies felt so excessively close.
It'll be grand,' the Barnsley-born defender murmured, feeling Kyle's fingers slide a little too close to his tingling nipple then up across towards his shoulder. He watched Kyle's intent expression, the man's wide eyes following his fingers up over smooth pale skin, his body hunched around over the gearstick to be closer. Kyle's other hand rested back on the thigh again, as his exploring fingers made their way over the collarbone and to the base of John's long neck. Mate?' Stones asked in a shaky whisper. He felt the fingers slide up his neck and across his chiselled cheekbone, then towards his lips. Instinctively, he parted them as two firm fingers pushed over and into his mouth, and then closed his lips about Kyle's rough digits. The man's eyes lifted to meet his own. The inside of the car didn't just feel warmed now, it felt hot and tense.
`No pussy to taste on them today,' chuckled Walker.
No, but still John let his soft plump lips play up to the knuckle, and his tongue push gently against the tip of Kyle's two fingers, sucking softly until they pulled back out and rested against his chin. He stared breathlessly at the other men, hunched beside him, the seat almost burning into his back muscles with its rising heat. What the fuck was going to happen now?
He felt Kyle's left hand drag further up his thigh towards the tight inner leg of his briefs, and he looked down his long muscular torso at this creeping hand, swallowing loudly, and shifting his chin a little to brush his lips against Kyle's fingers again, nuzzling them and letting his tongue roll out against them for a moment. And then, his touch electric, Kyle was gripping tightly at his jawline, and pulling his face in until their lips brushed, very gently at first, but then with a bit more force. There was nothing John could do but relax his mouth against his invasion, and he felt Kyle's fingers finally broach the fleshy mound of his briefs at the same time, so he could just about release a little moan of surprise into his friend's hot wet mouth.
Kyle pulled away and rested his forehead against John's.
`Mate,' Stones breathed in astonishment.
`Don't say anything,' was all Walker responded, gruff and conflicted. He squeezed and prodded at the damp fabric of John's briefs, running his hand over the cock outline; as he leant over further, John could just about feel the weight of the other's man package brush at somewhere just above his knee. Gulping again, he lifted his left hand to rest against the thick muscle of one of Walker's arms, and with the other he reached down his right leg and began to cup the big weighty package between Kyle's legs. The man grunted into his face and kissed him once more. He must have reached for a lever or a button because the passenger seat, sticky and wet against bare skin, slid into recline and Kyle leaned or clambered over further, seeming to weigh heavily atop John now as the two blokes fondled each other's crotches and breathed mouth to mouth.
Kyle was pulling his dick out for him, so he tried to do the same. He reached into that red package and slid out a fat circumcised semi that he'd seen flop about in their shared bedrooms, and came so close to touching as they shared a prostitute's mouth that recent late night of debauchery and humiliation. He closed his hand about it and tugged softly, feeling Kyle begin to do the same time, their bodies pressing muscle to muscle.
Oh, mate,' John groaned, despite his friend's plea for silence, oh man... that's... Shit...' There was just an inaudible grunt from the other guy that could have been agreement, or `shut up'. Again Kyle reached aside for some controls and the seat reclined further until almost horizontal. John's eyes registered just how steamed the windows really were, totally obscuring them from the outside world -- thank god! He moaned and whimpered his pleasure as Kyle pulled firmly on his rising boner, and he felt the other man's thick member swell and throb to his own reciprocal touch, soon both of them wanking energetically on the other, their pants in sync.
John was just relaxing into the novel thrill of it all when Kyle released his dick and began rubbing at one of his thighs again. He took over, so that he was pulling on both their dicks with a hand each, matching rhythm and intensity between their two sizeable rods. And then Kyle's fingers were tickling at his tight ball-sack and reaching under. John eyed him nervously as this next step slid into place, but he felt such enormous trust in the bulky bloke on top of him and he parted his legs gently as Walker's hand disappeared into the soggy white briefs and beneath his backside and began to finger gently at his crack. He pulled on their dicks as quickly and firmly as he could whilst he felt that rough finger, that had minutes ago been in his mouth, find his hole and push forcefully. `Oh mate,' he whimpered in mixed emotion.
`Relax it, please...'
`I'm trying, but...'
`Come on... come on...'
And in it went, owch, forceful and thick inside his virgin hole. John pushed his body back into the leather and tried to part and relax his long legs more, slowing his tugs on their aching boners, feeling Kyle's finger enter him then begin to slide in and out.
`Am I hurtin' ya?' whispered Kyle with uncharacteristic gentleness. Thank god he wasn't the boxing brute right now. John wasn't sure how to answer that: YES but don't stop, he thought, but he just whimpered wordlessly and pulled more purposefully on his mate's cock to show his enjoyment. Kyle leaned in and kissed him on the neck, more roughly than before, lips and teeth and facial hair all tickling and biting at the smooth white skin as he weighed down him. The finger pushed in a bit deeper, and he began to try a second, but it was too much. John's ring was tight and his sounds of muted pleasure became more pained through no deliberate move of his own.
`Careful,' he pleaded, and Kyle immediately stopped.
He pulled out, and raised his hand once more to John's chin and jawline, and then... Taste it,' he grunted masterfully, go on, taste your cunt, lad...' And he was pushing that finger back into John's mouth, tasting greasy and sweaty on his lips. He stared wide-eyed at Kyle's aggressive smirk and sucked on his finger while tossing them both off towards completion. They remained like that, Kyle hunched over him letting him sick one and then two fingers, John pulling on both their nobs, until they felt their bodies tighten and pull closer in the final moments of ecstasy.
Cum on me,' John found himself begging in a voice that hardly sounded like his own. Spunk right on my abs, mate... go on...'
Yes,' growled Walker, oh yes...'
And soon he did just that. First Walker, and then Stones, shot their loads, and their sticky mess spilled onto the defined arches of John's toned abdomen, slipping into his naval and trickling between each muscle. The seat creaked beneath them and their bodies shook with the exertion of the explosive mutual wank. Kyle remain hovering over him, panting, for a long minute.
When Kyle Walker finally pulled away and tumbled back into the driver's seat, he did so heaving a groan of shame, and pulled a hand across his face as if to hide. He slumped there like that, breathing roughly and rubbing at his temples. John lay in his reclined chair, tasting that musty sweat on his tongue, and feeling the cum cool and dry against his muscle. He slowly pushed his cock and balls back into the drying white briefs and coughed as if to remind Kyle he was still here.
`Are you alright, pal?' he asked. His voice still sounded a bit weak and submissive as it had a moment ago, and he hardly recognised himself. He caught sight of his own wide-eyed, wired expression in the rear-view mirror, and his cheeks coloured. Outside, some loud thunder rumbled.
I'm sorry,' Kyle said in a quiet but firm, almost angry voice, I dunno what happened there, just... so much energy, you know, so much frustration...' He clasped both hands to the steering wheel and kept his eyes squeezed shut for a few more moments before risking a look at John. `I lost control a bit there, didn't I?'
It's... it's okay,' Stones told him, listening to himself and trying to work out what the fuck he was actually feeling. He reached for the buttons and let his chair slowly grind back to an upright position. It was just... Yeah. All that pent-up energy.' Yep, so much tensed strength and power, and all of it on top of him, INSIDE of him... fuck...
`You're sure I didn't hurt you?' Walker demanded, not really looking at him as he started up the engine.
Again, John ended up not really answering, because what could he say? He just sat there in stunned silence as the engine barked and purred into life and the window wipers clicked side to side. The rain had eased somewhat, enough for a little visibility, as the car got moving and rolled its way out of the empty parking lot and out onto the near-abandoned roadways of outer Manchester.
Outside the car, the storm raged on, battering the North West of England as it had promised to, but inside, neither man said another word for the whole drive.
I HOPE THAT WAS WORTH THE SLOW BUILD-UP FOR THESE TWO! LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE ON WALKER & STONES... THERE WILL DEFINITELY BE A COUPLE MORE ADVENTURES ON THE CITY SQUAD!