Part fifty-two: In the Closet
As the Friday morning training session wound to a close, the 18-year-old Irishman booted a last ball in with as much power and gusto as he could manage, and as it struck its target like a knife through butter, he whirled about to check if Mourinho had seen, or was even watching it at all. As always, the iconic manager's face was unreadable, and the teenage striker felt a sting of frustration, stood there with the thin February drizzle brushing his face and legs. He saw Mourinho instantly turn his attention to something else, and the tall dark-haired lad sagged with anticipated defeat, and joined several others in beginning to make his way off the training ground.
In theory, things were great: days after turning 18, the newly confident Parrott had signed a proper adult contract with Spurs for the next three years, but he hadn't even made the bench for the games since. Okay, he was young and inexperienced, but he was a striker with first-team training experience, and now that both Kane and Son were injured, it made zero sense for him to be languishing in the stands or offered holiday breaks back to Dublin... Why was he being dismissed and neglected?
`Chin up, Budgie,' quipped the familiar warm voice of Eric Dier, catching up with him at the doors and pressing a hand to one of his broad shoulders.
Easy for you to say, Mr Minutes,' Troy retorted, though he instantly regretted his bitter tone. He gave a sad look to the burly 6'2 midfielder and received a gratifyingly muscular hug about his shoulder as the two blokes strolled indoors in their close-fitting Spurs training jerseys and white shorts. Ignore me, I'm being a brat,' Parrott sighed. He looked at Eric's almost Viking-like features and wondered whether the anxious frown there was for his benefit or not. `How are things with you?' he asked.
Oh, you know... so so,' Dier mumbled. Look, Troy mate, can I borrow you for a bit this afternoon?'
Parrott paused, they both did, letting a few of the others stream by them towards the changing rooms, a generally exhausted mood over the Tottenham lads, minds all on tomorrow's big Chelsea game. The teenager shrugged and tried to read Eric's shifty expressions and nervous glances.
`What's up?' he asked in a voice both curious and kindly.
I just... need a favour,' Dier said in the same low murmur. Hey, maybe I could put in a word for you again, have a chat with José tonight, see if...'
Troy gave him a sceptical look, wondering why he was being so quiet and vague. `Oh yeah, because I've been a first-team regular since the last time you or Kane had my back, right?' he said with cautious sarcasm, knowing he still needed to be grateful. But to be honest, he also knew he was going to agree: he was developing a soft spot for randy Eric, his confidante and mentor, and he also felt a concern for the big lad's broken relationship with their injured teammate. He had seen the sulky looks on both men's faces, day after day. He smiled a little at the pleading, puppy-dog look on Eric's face, and gave him a gentle punch in his broad chest.
Of course I'll help you out,' Troy told him. I told you I had your back. That was our... deal.'
`Well... come back to mine for a bit now, will ya? Erm... it's just a wee thing, I think. Look, come give me a hand with something and I'll... I'll speak to Mourinho but I'll also post on Instagram about how good you were in training today. Get you some media attention – see what I can pressurise. Eh?' Dier reached a hand to rub Troy's upper arm coaxingly, and the teenager couldn't help but grin, knowing how helpful this media link might be for his prospects in the near future.
`Sure, sure. Anything, mate.'
Eric gave him a nervous, expectant look. `Er, anything...?'
In the car, which smelt of a cocktail of their sweaty kits and Dier's tropical air freshener, the 26-year-old Englishman remained vague and evasive, deflecting questions by asking about Troy's life, how things were going, how different anything felt at 18 compared to 17, and so on. Only when they were nearing the man's expensive North London semi-detached house did Troy risk bringing up Harry's name at all.
`You've tried talking to him again?' he asked in what he hoped was a gruffly sensitive voice.
I have,' Eric said, but... it's tough.'
You can tell he misses you, though,' Troy pointed out. He looks miserable as fuck lately, and it ain't just his ankle causing that... There is something real between you two, right?'
Dier nodded, and gave him a wistful look, and then took the turning into the crunching gravel of his driveway, and when he had parked the car, sat still drumming his fingers against the wheel with a nervous expression. Troy watched him curiously, slightly regretting bringing up the emotional subject, still rather confused and overwhelmed by the secret affair he had stumbled on all those weeks ago in the store cupboards, and the thrilling little moments of intimacy it had triggered in his own life since.
I did speak to him properly,' Dier said, after this heavy few moments' silence, the other night, just before the Champions League game, mate... We talked a lot about what was going on between us, right, and...' He slapped his hands aggressively to the wheel then pulled them to rub at his handsome, craggy face. `He wants something from me, to apologise for my... behaviour. He wants me to take a new step for him, that's all.'
Well,' Troy said innocently, that's cool, right...?' He reached over and gave one of the broad man's shoulders a gentle rub through the dark blue navy of his top. `I mean, if you want him, which I'm pretty sure you do, then you need to...'
Eric gave him a wary look, nodded, and then sighed. `Look, I'll explain properly inside,' he said, and with that he turned off the engine and got out of the car. Troy was intrigued, and a little amused by all the mystery, as he too got out and followed his mate in. He'd only been to Eric's pad once or twice as part of little social events, moments where he'd been really glad he'd walked in on the affair: though he could always sense Kane's discomfort if the lanky striker was there too, he liked that Dier really included him in first-team banter now, easing his transition from the youth reserves into the first team, linking him up with friendly faces and making it clear Parrott was a lad to be trusted and valued at Tottenham. Being here alone with Eric, though, felt a little different, and he couldn't help but let his thoughts wander idly to that time in the sauna. His first time, in many ways...
Inside, Dier fetched them both pint glasses of water, knocked some music on, and set about fulfilling his promise before he'd even explained the favour. Troy sat on a leather chair, a little conscious of his sweaty arse on it, but liking the relaxed atmosphere of the bachelor pad compared to the family home he still lodged in. He opened up Instagram on his own phone and couldn't hold in his smirk of victory as he saw what Eric had posted: a short clip of one of his training ground goals with a load of emoji praise gushing beneath it. He looked up at where Dier was standing and beamed with gratitude.
`Sweet,' he said, not sure how to more eloquently express his pleasure.
`Least I could do,' Dier said, though his voice was a bit heavy, and it was obvious he was reluctant to really ask for the favour that had brought them here. He scratched at his short thick beard and kept looking about the room. Troy smiled, locked his phone, and got up to stand face to face with his teammate, almost as tall and broad, though much slimmer he knew. A bit of gym time over the next year might change that, he had told himself repeatedly.
Mate, you've been so fucking kind to me,' he said as sincerely as he could be, I really do appreciate it. Now, what the hell am I here for?'
Eric gave him an awkward smile, pleased at the enthusiasm but embarrassed at the request, clearly. He ran his hand over his short-cropped blond hair and nodded slowly. `Okay. It's like this, mate. Harry wants to give things with me another go, but he wants to... balance stuff out. You know I was, er, not so loyal,' Dier said uncomfortably.
`Yeah, though I wish you'd fucking tell me who with,' Parrott pointed out almost playfully. It had been bugging him for a while now, because he assumed Dier's misbehaviour had involved another Spurs player, but he had no sense of who else on the squad might be so... fluid. He'd totally assumed these two were the only bi lads on the team - he couldn't quite think of them as gay, in spite of the obvious possibility, and even more so, he wasn't quite mentally ready to include himself in that category, in spite of the obvious evidence.
`Harry wants to flip things round,' Dier said in a low murmur.
`What, he wants to cheat on YOU?'
`No, mate... he wants to... Well, you know...'
Realisation dawned on Troy, and for a few seconds he was once again picturing what he'd seen in the storeroom, the sexual dynamic he had rightly assumed to be the norm. He wants to fuck you,' he breathed in sympathetic shock, having spent many idle late-night minutes wondering how the hell guys could endure such a thing. And you've never...?'
No,' Dier said sharply, I've never. I mean, he never seemed to er, want that, never, but... He thinks it would change stuff. Show I'm... real, about him. Ugh. Mate, I'm up for doing it, I want to show him I mean it, show him I want it, but...' Dier was blushing hot pink and shifting from foot to foot. `I'm so worried about it, I need your help.' He reached a big hand over for Troy's and the teenager pulled instantly away.
What?' Parrott couldn't help but exclaim, despite his assurances of loyalty and enthusiasm a minute ago. Eric, buddy, I ain't into that, I'm not g... Look, I want you to be good with him, but... not THAT, I can't just...' He must have turned a similar shade of beetroot himself, shocked and panicked by the suggestion of what he might be able to do to another bloke. But Eric grabbed soothingly at his hand and stroked his other shoulder.
Troy, no, not THAT,' he said hurriedly, I'm not asking you to...' Suddenly, a hoarse little laugh. For fuck's sake, if I'm worried about being topped by Kane, I'm hardly running to YOU...' And he gestured teasingly downwards at the hanging bulge in the front of Troy's shorts. I've seen what you're packing, remember.'
The compliment made Parrott laugh but he couldn't shake his discomfort or the burning blush in his dark-stubbled cheeks. `Oh, right... er...'
`No, I don't think I could take you, pal... I didn't mean that. I just... I bought this toy, you see, and I thought you might help me... loosen up. That's all. I'm sorry. It's a dumb idea. I can see you're horrified, so...'
Troy thought about the Instagram post, about all these weeks of having Dier's support. He also thought about that recent afternoon in the hotel room, and the look on Shane Long's face. Troy wasn't ready to admit to himself how exciting these men were in his life, but he was slowly embracing their lust for him, that look on Eric's face when they'd shared a sauna, the fearful hunger in Shane's Irish eyes, even that dazed moment with Charlie Austin in the brothel... He shook off that train of thought and tried to look loyal, supportive.
I'm just surprised,' he mumbled, but I want to help. I'll do it, mate. I'll do it. Anything to... er, get you and the big lad back in... er...' He wanted to say together' or happy' but it all sounded weird, knowing that Kane was a married man and a father. Not for the first time, it hit him how messed up all of these relationships around him were, but for now, his priority was supporting the puppy-eyed midfielder in front of him. He gave a firm nod and then threw a little laddish hug about Dier's broad frame. `I'm here for ya, Eric. I am, pal.'
Upstairs, the teenage footballer sat on the big bed, and dared to imagine how many times it had seen action from Dier and Kane. He had heard vague mention of Eric's girlfriends, but now he rested here, he wasn't sure how many of them were actually real, or if they were an elaborate cover-up. Yeah, Harry had a missus and a very separate life, but what about Eric? He felt a pang of sympathy for the other bloke, reassessing him as a male `mistress' and wondering how lonely things must be for him, always waiting for his, erm, boyfriend to be available and not playing happy families...
Through a half-open door, he could hear Eric's shower coming to an end, the Cheltenham lad singing to himself as he always did even in the team's communal showers. Again, Troy couldn't hold back a little smirk of affection for his burly mate. But as he listened, he was turning over five inches of turquoise rubbery plastic in his fingers and staring in fascinated dread at the thing his mate had purchased online.
Troy himself was still in the white shorts and long-sleeve navy training top, having turned down a shower, keen for this to be a fairly quick exercise and thinking he might jog his way home to get even more fitness in today; he had shrugged at Eric showering, but as he thought about what he was going to try and do, he realised he was pretty glad the other lad had insisted on taking one. This was going to be weird enough, it needed to at least be clean! He sniggered nervously to himself, waved the little dildo about, and then adjusted his shorts and long socks a bit worriedly, flexing his toes and looking at where he'd dumped his training boots by the window of Dier's big bachelor bedroom.
Sure enough, in he came.
Dier was a real thickset tower of muscle, Troy noted yet again, the light fur of his chest still damp as he strolled through, pale blue towel about his hips, looking excitable but scared. Troy sat up and tried to give him a reassuring smile in spite of his own uncertainties. The two men let out gruff laughs at the predicament they were now putting themselves in; this quickly settled into a thick, anxious silence though, and Troy wondered for a minute if Dier was changing his mind, about to cancel his suggested experiment.
I only wanna try this out briefly,' he clarified in a slow voice. I'm nervous to try it alone, you see.'
That's cool,' Parrott mumbled back, though cool' was the last word for how he felt.
`I don't wanna agree to it with Harry and embarrass myself,' Eric continued.
Troy couldn't help but smile again. He nodded, and waved the turquoise prick about in his right hand. How are we doing this then, big man?' he asked in a more playful tone. He saw from Dier's expression how blank the other man was, how little he'd really thought it through. Sensing the expectation of his own help here, he moved aside on the broad silky expanse of the bed, and patted it. Here, why don't you come lie on your side, see, and we'll just... try this out?' He was trying to sound breezy and confident and, based on Dier's nod and compliance, it worked.
The big, towel-clad England player climbed onto the bed with him and lay on his side, away from Troy, and the Irish teen scrambled onto his side a little way behind him, a distant spooning, and he had to suppress another laugh at the stupidity of the situation. He was stopped from this by the shivering look to Eric's pale skin, the realisation that this muscular hunk of English beef was trembling nervously at what he was about to try: and all out of desire (love?) for their mutual pal, Harry Kane.
Troy was about to speak, to point out that the towel was something of an obstacle, but he decided to take more control and let Eric relax. He reached for the knot against the bulge of Dier's hip and undid it, letting the towel fall open, exposing the big meaty backside in front of him beneath the broad stretch of back muscle and hairy thigh. Troy stared at it, not used to being so close and familiar with another bloke's arse like this. Two rounded glutes fluffy with downy blond hair. Well, here goes nothing.
Troy took the little tube of lube he'd been provided, squirted a toothpaste-like amount onto the tip of the dildo, and did what seemed right: he pushed it inexpertly between these heavy cheeks and into Eric's crack. This went badly: to his surprise, an arse was nothing like a fanny, and the rubbery tip was met with tensed muscle, and Dier twisted a bit and yelped in annoyed surprise. `Sorry, sorry,' Troy mumbled awkwardly, and he tried to play the thing with a bit more nuance, sliding it about a bit between the clenched cheeks.
`Jesus Christ, that feels about ten times the size it looked,' Dier grunted into a pillow on his side.
`Yeah, I bet,' Troy murmured, shocked and fascinated, sliding the slick toy back away from his mate's arse again and staring at it. He thought about his limited but treasured sexual experiences with his Irish girlfriend, and realised how stupid he was being: you hardly just shoved your nob in a lass without a bit of foreplay, did you?! But... he pictured himself on the night he'd lost his virginity with her, whiskey-drunk as he went down and tried licking her out for the first time: you could hardly do THAT to a bloke's backside, could you? No...
He squished a bit more lube from the cannister onto his finger, took a deep breath, and slid it in between those tensed cheeks. Instantly, he saw Eric's muscular frame relax somewhat at this slimmer, gentler invasion. You okay with this?' he heard Dier mumble worriedly into his pillow, and he asked himself the same question. He just made a vague mm-hmm' noise, and carried on, running his lubed finger down the hairy crack, feeling the man's heat down there, fascinated and shocked and more than a little bit curious.
It took him a while of this to find the entrance, and when he did, his tough finger running over the puckered muscle, he felt Eric's body writhe again and a little yelp of surprise. He pushed and rubbed at it. With his free hand, he reached to massage one of Eric's shoulder muscles a little in the hope it was soothing, and it sorta worked some magic: the buttocks relaxed a bit and he felt the tip of his finger push in against the ring. The next thing he knew, his finger was halfway inside his pal's hole and he was holding his breath and ignoring a faint stirring in his shorts.
Shit,' groaned Eric, is that actually just ONE finger...? Fucking hell...'
The question made Parrott think back to his brief, horrified misunderstanding, and Dier's reaction: if this was how hard it was to work a single finger into a guy's arse, and the toy he was about to swap it for felt so massive, then what of his own big monster, that Eric so regularly teased and complimented him on...? He dismissed this curious imagining, trying not to get carried away, and began to ease the tip of his finger in and out of Eric, producing low moans from the older man as he did so.
`You've never ever tried this?' he asked, his voice breathy with concentration and tension.
`Mmm... no, never, I just...'
`But you and Kane, it's been...'
`It never worked this way,' Dier mumbled, almost ashamedly.
But,' Troy mumbled, realising another of his unconscious assumptions, you er, sucked me off, didn't you, and...'
Yeh, I've had a cock in my mouth,' grunted Eric quite resentfully, doesn't mean I wanted one up my...'
Oh, Troy thought, is that not how it works, then? A bloke might nosh you off but want to be more... in control? Again, he thought about his Irish hero, on his knees, lapping at Troy's big bone, and... Well, it's not that he had been thinking about doing MORE with Shane, but he had kinda assumed that... He realised his lost thoughts had stopped his finger work, and he tried to shake them off. What did it matter? All of this was out of his experience, it was a different world. He didn't NEED to understand it, he had a girlfriend...
Go on,' grunted Eric, try the, er, toy... please...'
He did so, much more gently than he had tried to before – this time, he took the fake phallus really carefully in hand and slid it down between Dier's buttocks with painstaking slowness and care, then circled its tip over that tight muscled entrance, enjoying the little whine of uncertain pleasure from the bigger man at his side; Troy felt his own cock twitch at the noise, the sense of empowerment as he realised how much he must be pleasuring this big manly footballer. He'd felt a similar thrill pressed against Shane in the airplane toilet cubicle, that shared sensual rush...
`How's that...?' he asked tentatively, though he knew from the low groan that Dier was starting to quite like this new sensation.
`Er... yeh... it's cool...'
Troy pushed in with the dildo, pressing its tip in as far as his finger had gone, slowly opening up Eric's virgin hole. His own cock strained a little against his sweaty briefs and he kept rubbing his hand along Dier's big shoulders and to his thick nape, considering for a moment how much he might like to lean in and kiss that thick muscular neck. He pressed the toy experimentally further, felt Eric wince and tighten, heard his little of grunt of pain, but carried on... For a moment, he forgot all about loyalty, and why he was meant to be doing this, just fascinated and excited, forcing the toy inside this groaning brute, his breath held and teeth gritted.
Overcome with either pleasure or pain (or both?), Dier pressed back a little on the bed, parting his chunky legs, and reaching an arm behind him to clutch at the dark fabric of Troy's jersey. Jesus,' Dier scowled, that's a bit... ohh...' But Troy pushed in a little further, a little more firmly, excited by the fierce tone of the other man's voice. Then Dier's hand was running down the front of his top, pulling it up over his flat stomach, and finding its way onto the crotch of his shorts, finding the outline of his semi. The touch was electric, but it jolted Troy into awareness of what they, HE, were doing.
No,' Parrott mumbled sheepishly, don't...'
Eric mistook his protest and squeezed more on his crotch, seeming to press his buttocks back too as he did, but Troy wriggled away, yanking the toy a bit roughly out of his friend, a little disgusted by the slick lubricant on his fingers. He pushed Eric's hand away from his shorts, saw the man turn his head his way in surprise. `But...' began Eric, a look of pure lust in his crystal eyes.
Harry,' snapped Troy defensively. We're here trying to get you back with him, remember...'
The guilt on Dier's face was sudden and total, and he turned sharply away, and Troy felt his cheeks burn with shame and indecision. But he was right, wasn't he? They were literally up here in his mate's bedroom trying to fix a broken affair, for better or for worse, and so... He thought about how good it would be to have Dier's mouth on his cock again, remembering that giddy experience in the sauna, but NO... It was just as he was about to wriggle off the bed and go wash his slippery fingers that he heard the footsteps. He paused, hanging off the side of the bed, and looked at Eric.
He has a key,' breathed Dier as he whirled about on the bed, mouth hanging open. Quick,' he urged, `into the wardrobe, mate...' He lunged off the bed, snatching up the towel over his fat semi, and practically shoving Troy across the room. He grabbed open the doors of the room's big fitted wardrobe and pressed the teenager back into it: Troy stared at him in panic but said nothing, quickly piecing the drama together and feeling himself slide back amongst the hanging shirts and sweaters and then plunged into dark as the door was shut in his face.
He stood there, tensed and alarmed, and heard the footsteps continue and the door open.
`Harry,' gasped Eric in a strained voice.
Eric,' came the England hero's familiar voice. I... I...'
`What are you doing here? Hah... You, er, should have called, er...'
`I needed to see you.'
`Right, well...'
And then there were light gasps and footsteps and a silence in which Troy imagined he could hear sounds of kissing. He pressed himself nervously back into the hanging clothes, knowing that the slightest noise or movement might expose his presence and what had gone on. It had never really occurred to him before that he was as much an obstacle in their relationship as any other bloke; if he'd bothered to think about it, he'd kinda supposed Kane probably knew what went on in the sauna, although he hadn't given it much consideration back then.
Harry,' moaned Eric's voice, it's... good to see you...'
`What were you up to? What's THAT?'
Oh, well... erm, I was...' A laugh. I was thinking about what you said, so I wanted to try...'
Oh Eric, baby,' moaned the England skipper beyond the wardrobe doors, forget that... I was talking such SHIT... baby, I don't need to top you to trust you, I was mad to think...' More muffled grabbing and kissing, perhaps. `I just need you back. I miss you so fucking much. I don't care about Dele, I don't fucking care...'
DELE ALLI? Troy held himself carefully and resisted a melodramatic gasp: he'd always known there was a tight bond between Dier and Alli around the club, but he'd assumed it to be totally platonic. As if the preening poser was into anything like this?!
He didn't mean a thing,' Dier's voice came, desperately. He was just...'
He's fancied you for ages,' Kane grunted dismissively. Anyone watching could fucking tell. I just thought you were... you know... with me.' A pained gasp. `I know I have my wife, but...' There was a tender moment in which more might have been whispered, but Troy could not hear a thing.
`You don't want to fuck me, then?' Eric's voice, playfully small and pleading.
`God no... I can fuck my wife, that's not what I need from you, is it...?'
Dirty chuckles from both of them. More kissing? Hard to tell. And then, with an almost inevitable tone of suspicion and doubt, Harry's voice: `Whose boots are they, Eric...? Who is...?' At that, the Irish teenager tensed up, bit his lip, felt his cock twitch at the thrill of the secrecy, and then – the wardrobe doors were yanked fully open and he came face to face with Harry Kane, 6'4 of tensed muscle himself, beady eyes wide with shock and mouth twisted in upset.
`I can explain,' blurted Dier's voice. He was standing between them and the bed, naked again, his towel clearly discarded during a snog with his secret lover. His beautiful muscular form seemed silly and out of place next to the raging Harry and his casual tshirt and jeans. Troy stepped awkwardly out of the tangle of garments about him, and he looked from one older man to the other.
`You,' snarled Kane, the faint gleam of tears in his eyes.
`Kane, I was just, er,' began Troy helplessly, no idea what to say.
He was helping me,' Eric said, and he burst between them, as if expecting Harry to strike the teenager in anger. He was helping me out... I was trying to figure out if I could...'
`It doesn't take two to play with a fucking dildo,' fumed Kane, pulling away from them both and running both hands through his gelled hair. The tall striker looked away, perhaps trying to hide just how upset he was. Eric reached after him and wrapped his bare stocky arms about him, whilst Troy eyed the door as a possible escape, vaguely aware of the semi still bulging in his shorts.
`What the fuck, Eric? What the fuck?' shouted Harry hoarsely.
Listen, I was nervous,' Dier was saying to him, I was so scared of not being able to do it, so...'
`You were going to let him fuck you?!'
God no,' Eric shouted back at him, have you seen the size of him?!'
And then, absurdly, the argument was interrupted, as confusedly Harry Kane looked over Troy's way, just as he was really considering a quick lunge for his boots and out of the bedroom door, and his eyes seemed to settle on the weighty swing in the front of the white shorts. Troy paused midway to his boots, and saw Eric look down at his crotch height too.
`I was just, er, a helping hand,' Parrott told them quietly. God, he needed out of here, otherwise things were going to get even worse between these two closeted fucking lovebirds... and that would be his rep amongst the Spurs players ruined for sure, oh yes! One word to the manager from Harry Kane, and...
Look at the bulge on him,' Dier was saying in a voice of forced amusement, you reckon I'd start running before I can fucking walk?' He pulled on Harry's tshirt and kissed at his long neck. `He was just... you know... helping me figure it out...' Troy watched him caress and pull at the taller striker in a way that seemed to be established and agreed between the lovers. He could see the conflict on Kane's face, but the man's eyes kept flashing his way, and he recognised the spark of admiration or surprise, these older men seeming fascinated by just what he carried in his pants.
Dier really likes you,' he said daringly, taking a step their way, instead of towards escape. He was terrified, pal, and he was still up for trying to... Well, you should have seen him. He's no, er, bottom, or whatever you call it.' Troy felt the tension in the room shift, a different edge to it. `But I bet he's dying to get back inside YOU, big man,' he added in what he guessed was a slightly seductive purr of his Dublin accent. He grinned uncertainly at them both.
`I was ready to do anything to make things up to you, H,' Eric said in a loud whisper.
And even more,' Troy put in, pushing things further, he wanted you to have something new.'
He saw surprise on both men's face as he took the front of his shorts and briefs in his fingers and shoved them down, and let his semi flop out, swinging between his dark-haired thighs. He saw the little smirk of recognition from Dier; the tight-lipped smile of admiration from conflicted Kane. As if to push aside their doubts, Troy pulled up on his dark top, up and off, stood in front of them wearing only his dirty white football socks and a cheeky smirk.
Go on,' Eric put in, kissing his boyfriend's neck and squeezing his bicep, why don't you have a taste of that, lover?'
Kane drifted the two strides towards Troy and reached to hold him by the cock, looking almost intimidated by its size, which was amusing to watch in a man so big and powerful. Troy smiled up to him, nodding permission, and then seeing the tall injured striker sink down onto his knees on the carpet and plant his lips against the thick shaft. Behind him, Eric stood stroking his own dick and balls, a relieved smile on his bearded face. Troy gave him a slight wink.
From then, things moved fast, and it was Dier who seemed to take control of things, more himself. Harry nudged and nuzzled Troy's dick but did no more to it, just seeming to appreciate its length and girth as it stiffened to his gentleness, but then Eric was pulling at his shoulders and tshirts and leading him to the bed. Troy followed, gripped with lust. He joined in as the tall 26-year-old icon was stripped – whilst Dier pulled his white tshirt up and off, Troy undid his belt and buttons, and soon the big tall lad was on the bed with his checkered boxer shorts about his ankles.
Troy felt his own inexperience, with girls never mind blokes, but followed the unfolding action as eagerly as he could. For a moment, both men were on him, Harry giving his hard-on an exploring suck, and Eric licking at first one then the other of his nipples – he could only shudder in sensual enjoyment, suppressing giggles of surprise and bewilderment. But then he was on his knees at the foot of the bed, and Kane was in front of him on hand and knees, licking the tip of his dick, and Dier was taking up position behind the long, lightly tanned body.
Eric slapped some lube onto his fingers and began working Kane's backside with apparent skill that made Troy think about just how clumsy his own efforts actually had been; but it was hard to concentrate on what the midfielder was up to because he was beginning to get the best blowjob of his short sex life. So much more hungry and confident than either Eric or Shane, Harry was clearly quite a cocksucker, used to Dier's thick shaft, but excited by the bigger piece he was enjoying now... Troy didn't even try to keep in his groans and yelps of enjoyment at the hot wet sensation.
When he opened his eyes again, Dier's big body was pulling up behind Kane's beautifully pert buttocks and thrusting in between them to push his cock in. Troy and Eric eyed each other admiringly along Harry's bare back as both of their dicks plunged into the young legend. The bed creaked and groaned but held its strength beneath three sets of knees, and the spit-roast picked up an aggressive pace.
Watching as Dier pumped Kane powerfully form behind, Troy took more dominant control himself: he slid his hands about Kane's head, holding him carefully, and began to fuck his mouth as much as his own superior size allowed him, pushing his cock in and out of that eager gob, feeling his head brush the back of Harry's throat and his low-hanging balls slap to his smooth chin. Holy fuck.
`That's it, Trojan... fuck his greedy mouth... Good lad... Oh Harry, you must be LOVING that...'
Yeh,' Parrott grunted at them, oh yeh...' He could never really find the words for dirty talk, but he groaned and howled and thrust his strong young hips. He watched as Eric got quicker and more aggressive in his thrusts, holding first Harry's hips and then his back and then just lifting his strong arms up behind his head, pits and biceps bared, slamming his dick into his lover.
Troy felt his excitement build and build. He tried again to fuck Harry's mouth but he was a bit big for this, he kept making the man splutter and gag. He pulled his cock out, its length dripping in saliva, and wanked firmly on it whilst Harry's slutty mouth shifted to licking at his big balls, and he shut his eyes, feeling himself tense up and tremble.
That's it, feed him your load, Troy,' came Dier's violent grunting. Go on...'
Harry just groaned in anticipation, sliding his skilled tongue about one ball then the other, then back onto the veiny shaft. He looked up wide-eyed, brows lifted high, expression steely and focused, like about to take a winning penalty. He pulled his head back, opened wide, stuck out his tongue.
OH FUCK,' Troy howled, and shot his load: a stream of hot spunk streaking over the face of the England captain, and then another, then a third messier burst. Oh fuckkk,' he repeated, `fuck fuck fuck...' He pulled again and again on his aching cock until the last drop of his juices was dribbling down his teammate's jaw, and his whole slender body was shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. How many days had it been since he'd actually had energy left over to wank? He'd been trying so hard to impress the gaffer every day in training, after all.
Troy felt almost faint with the rush of it and he pulled aside and flopped down onto the soft surface of the bed, and he lay there, listening to the grunts and yowls of the other two going at it. He turned his head to watch for a moment, and thought just how surreal it was to see this big tall hero of a man on hands and knees, ploughed by his bearded mate. Weird but... beautiful. And now they were changing position: Harry on his back and Eric on top, pulling those thick fluffy thighs open and fucking him in missionary, leaning over to kiss – kiss?! Too much, surely, Troy thought, distantly. He tried to picture himself kissing either of them and he couldn't.
And then as the afterglow of his orgasm faded, he felt like an intruder. The bed shook with the force of Eric's passionate fucking, but he felt spent and in the way. Silently, he dragged himself off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, where he washed his hands and face and stared at himself in the mirror: his handsome sharp-featured face, the dark Irish hair of his stubble and the thin trail on his chest and abs, the way his spent cock hung low and heavy between his legs. What exactly was it about him that seemed to drive these guys mad? He wasn't totally sure he could see it, but he certainly liked it. He'd always been vaguely aware of his handsome charms, but right now he felt... invincible.
For a second, with Eric and Harry's grunts sounding loudly from the main room, he could see his glorious career stretching ahead of him, and he'd always know that the Dier-Kane love affair had helped to kickstart it.
When he went back into the bedroom, the fucking was gentler but the kissing was intense. The two big male bodies were tangled up and shiny with sweat, and absolutely oblivious of his presence. If he wasn't so affectionate and grateful towards them, Troy might have felt snubbed. As it was, he laughed inwardly, and picked his clothes up from where they'd fallen, tugging on his skimpy briefs, his sweat-damp shorts, his inside-out jersey, and then the boots that had given his presence away. He didn't bother saying goodbye as he left the room, knowing he was superfluous to their pleasure now, but he was sure to shut the door firmly behind him at the bedroom and on the way out of the house, knowing how vital their discretion was.
Out on Dier's gravel driveway, the damp chill of the day was a welcome relief, and he stood on the pavement for a few moments, feeling it on his face and shins. He glanced up to the upstairs windows of the house, wondering if anything saucy was visible, but seeing nothing from here. He laughed to think of this sleepy respectable street in North London, and the neighbours who had no idea what was going on in this big expensive house.
Troy jogged his way home, grinning to himself, and feeling like a good deed had been done: somehow, his dick had been the magic ingredient to reunite those two, and surely with them on his side, his future at Spurs was safe? Tomorrow, he would rush in early to see the team-sheet, and he could dare to hope that the name `Parrott' might be at the front of that line-up, ready to score some Premiership goals.