The Jigsaw Puzzle

by Pink Panther

Chapter 30

February 2010

Scott's definitely the guy I was meant to be with. There's no question about it. Hard as it is to believe, we fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, just like Anthony said. That doesn't mean things are going to be easy. With Scott needing to be so careful about people finding out that he's gay, we're facing quite a challenge.

It's Friday. I've spent the morning going around the DIY stores looking at kitchens and bathrooms, finding out what's available and how we can make best use of the space in his flat. I get back home just after one. Scott's due at two-thirty, give or take.

After grabbing a bite of lunch, I make myself a cold drink and head up to my room. Armed with the information that I obtained this morning, I put the finishing touches to the drawings for Scott's flat. With the task completed, I close the curtains and make sure everything's ready before sitting down to chill out.

When I dreamed about having a boyfriend, a special somebody in my life, I guess I never really thought about what it would mean. It's like walking down the road towards a corner. You think you know what's round there, but when you actually turn the corner, it's not like you thought it'd be. I thought I'd meet someone; we'd be together and everything would be cool.

If my new boyfriend had turned out to be another student, things might have worked out that way. Instead, it's Scott Paxton, professional footballer, and that presents a whole set of challenges I hadn't bargained for. Gay professional footballers stay in the closet. That's just the way it is.

The doorbell rings. I jump up, hurrying down the stairs to answer it. There he is, looking even more gorgeous than he did two days ago.

"Would you like a drink?" I ask, ushering him inside.

"No, I'm fine thanks," he says smiling.

I lead the way to my room.

"I will just use your loo though," he says.

"It's in there," I say, pointing to the door. "You know where I am."

I head into my room. I kick off my slippers and sit on the bed. Moments later, he reappears.

"I hope you're not going to rush off today," I say.

"I've arranged for us to meet Bill at half past four. Is that okay?

"Bill? That's the guy who's going to do the refurb?"


"Sounds good to me!" I confirm, getting to my feet. "Now come here!"

We've just reprised what we did on Wednesday. It was awesome, even better than it was the first time. I feel totally at peace. We snuggle up together, lying quietly on my bed for several minutes. Conversation seems unnecessary.

"So how's everything going?" I ask finally.

"Great, thanks," he says, smiling, "so much better for having found you."

"Tell me about your football," I say. "I mean, how far d'you think you'll be able to go?"

"I'm definitely aiming to play in the Premier League," he says. "I'm not ready for that yet, but if I keep improving, in a couple of years I could be there. Maybe one day I could even play for England."

"Wow" I comment. "You're pretty ambitious then."

"Definitely," he confirms. "I didn't leave school at sixteen to be average. What about you? What do you hope to do?"

"After I leave school, I want to go to university to study architecture. Eventually, I want to be a top architect, yeah?"

"That's great," he says. "You're ambitious too. You know about working hard and always trying to get better. That's important."

"I'm hoping to study in London," I go on. "That's like the centre of British design."

"When I move up to the Premier League, I'd like to go to London too," he says.

"Really?" I say, my eyes lighting up. "Why's that?"

"Mainly because of the study opportunities," he says. "After my A-levels, my only real choice is to study with the Open University. If I was in London, there are several places where I could do part time study. I just think that would work better. And then there's the cultural side, especially the music. London puts on so much great music."

"I didn't know you were into music," I say. "Do you play?"

"Yeah, trumpet," he says. "I played in the school orchestra. Whittingdale wanted me to play in the County Schools' Orchestra, but I didn't have time."

"So you're pretty good then?"

"Not bad," he admits. "I got up to grade seven before I left, which is okay. I like jazz as well as classical, but I've never had much opportunity to play it."

"Oh, right," I say, snuggling closer. "I don't know much about jazz."

"You'd soon find out if we were both living in London," he says, grinning. "There's great jazz on every night of the week."

"We must seem a bit of an odd couple," I say. "Okay, I run for the school, but I'm not really into sport. And what I know about football you could get on the back of a stamp."

"Oh, I think it's great that we do different things," he says, smiling at me. "There's no way I could have another footballer for a boyfriend. We'd be competing with each other the whole time. It'd be a nightmare. But you and I aren't in competition, so we can support each other, yeah?"

"Yeah, right!" I confirm.

Wow! He's certainly pressed the right buttons with that one. I'd never thought about it like that, but if our relationship's going to go anywhere, supporting each other will be an important part of it.

"Have you ever thought about coming out?" I ask.

"Not really," he says. "I don't see how I could, certainly not at the moment."

"Why 'not at the moment'?" I query. "What difference would it make?"

"If I'm going to play in the Premier League, somebody is going to have to give me that chance," he says. "If I came out, it just wouldn't happen."

"But once you were playing in the Premier League?" I persist.

"Once I'd got myself established, I guess it might be possible," he concedes, "but that's years away."

"You can't be the only gay footballer," I suggest.

"No," he agrees. "There are a few that I'm aware of. They just keep quiet about it. A guy called Justin Fashanu came out about twenty years ago. He got crucified."

I've never heard of Justin Fashanu, but I guess the rest of it is pretty much what I expected. But it's not really what I wanted to hear.

"Things have changed a lot since then," I counter.

"Maybe," he says, sounding unconvinced. "Why's it so important?"

"Wouldn't you want us to be able to go places together?" I ask.

"Yeah, sure," he says, "and we will. It'll be cool. Don't worry about it!"

For the moment, I've done all I can. I guess we'll have to see how things go.

At four o'clock we climb back into our clothes and head over to the flat. Just before half past, the doorbell rings. Scott goes to answer it. A few seconds later, he returns to the kitchen with a good-looking guy I'd guess to be around forty.

"Bill, this is Ian," Scott says smiling. "He's been working on some design ideas."

"Right!" Bill says brightly. "Let's see what you've got for me."

I take out the drawings, spreading them out on the kitchen worktop. He studies them carefully.

"There's one problem," he says. "There aren't enough power sockets and some of the ones we've got aren't where we need them. To do what you want, the place really needs to be rewired. How old is it?"

"About thirty years," Scott tells him.

"Then you ought to renew the wiring in any case," Bill says.

"Could you settle an argument?" I ask. "Scott wants granite worktops, but I think they'd be too expensive for a flat like this."

"You've got your head screwed on, haven't you?" Bill responds, grinning. He turns to Scott. "You want to forget that idea. When you come to sell, you won't get your money back."

"Fair enough," Scott agrees.

"So will you be able to get everything done before Easter?" I ask.

"It'll be a bit tight," Bill says, "but I'm sure we can." He turns to Scott. "I'll call you tomorrow and give you a price."

March 2010

It's Saturday. David and Patrick are away this weekend, running for the county in the English Schools' Cross-Country Championships. Late in the afternoon, I get a text. It's from Patrick. It says that he finished eighteenth in the Intermediate Boys' race. Against more than three hundred of the best young runners in England, that's pretty impressive, especially as he's never been in a race like that before. It goes on to say that David finished thirty-first in the senior race. I reckon that's pretty good too.

I'm pleased for them. They're good guys and good friends. And they've worked hard, of course. They deserve to do well. I send a reply, "Well done! See you Monday!" But there's no way I'll ever run like they do. It's not just about ability. I don't have their dedication.

April 2010

It's the Wednesday after Easter. I spent all day yesterday and the whole of this morning working with Bill to put the final touches to the flat. I'm over the moon. It looks even better than I thought it would. We had a generous budget to work with, which definitely helped. I've got on really well with Bill, who's done an excellent job. He seems pleased with it too.

"It's been a pleasure working with you," he says warmly. "You decided what you wanted right at the start and you've stuck to it. That made things much simpler than some clients do. I think it's come out really well."

Scott's been banned from the place while we've been working on it. I hope he likes it. I'm sure he will. We'll soon know. He's due back from training at any moment. The doorbell rings. I open it, ushering him inside.

"Wow!" he exclaims, looking around. "I thought it looked good on the drawings, but this is something else! Thank you so much! I love it!"

He takes out his cheque book, paying Bill the final instalment of the price they'd agreed.

"Don't worry about Ian," he says. "I'll drop him home."

"Fair enough," Bill says smiling. "I'll leave you guys to it."

A minute later Bill's on his way. I'm not sure if he knows exactly what he's leaving us to. It's not a problem. Scott and I stroll into the bedroom. I close the curtains.

"My own place with my own double bed," Scott breathes, wrapping his arms around me. "How good is that?"

We quickly undress. We get onto the bed. We kiss passionately, our bodies pressed together. I've been waiting for this. I guess we both have. Our foreplay continues, making me hornier by the second. I take Scott's hand, guiding his index finger onto my bum-hole. He massages it gently.

"I'd like you to go all the way," I whisper.

"Are you sure?" he queries, his eyes locked on mine.

"Totally," I assure him.

I retrieve the KY from my training pants, smearing some onto his penis. Rolling onto my back, I lift my legs, bringing my knees close to my shoulders.

"That's beautiful!" he coos.

A moment later he's kneeling in front of me, his warm, wet tongue lapping at my hole. He continues to do this for a few moments before lifting himself back up, and shuffling in close to line up his cock with my rear entrance. He pushes inside.

"Oh yeah!" I groan. "Do it, Scott! You know what I want!"

It was wonderful. We could have done it weeks ago, but waiting till today seemed right, somehow. It was that final step to say that I'm as committed to him as he is to me. We're covered in spunk. Pulling a towel from my bag I wipe us clean and throw it on the floor. We snuggle up. Scott looks radiant, his eyes sparkling.

"So how was that?" I ask, cheekily licking his nose.

"Awesome!" he breathes. "I've wanted you for so long. I had no idea how good you'd make me feel."

"It was awesome for me too," I tell him. "You're the best!"

And it was. Awesome because it was his first time and our first time; awesome simply because it was him, the guy I want to be with more than anyone in the world. Back when I told Dad I was gay, he talked to me about 'waiting until you meet someone who really means something to you'. At the time, I didn't understand what he meant. Well, I do now! It's not a physical thing. It's that sense of giving yourself totally to someone, and them doing the same for you. Nothing else even comes close!"

"I couldn't believe it when you came," Scott whispers, gently stroking my chest. "I never even touched you."

"That's how good you were making me feel," I tell him.

"You're amazing," he says, drawing me into another passionate kiss.

Not that I've ever doubted it, but today's been the ultimate confirmation that Scott is definitely the guy I'm meant to be with. He's totally eclipsed Franny from my wank fantasies. For the past few weeks, I haven't even thought about having sex with anyone else. The more that I've got to know him, the more certain I've become that there isn't a guy on the entire planet that I'd rather be with. And I know he feels the same about me; I don't even need to ask.

Of course, that's not the whole story. It's that jigsaw puzzle thing again. Scott and I fit together perfectly, but the pieces around us don't, not yet anyway. That's what we'll have to work on. It's going to be a long haul.

"I'm thinking of holding a flat-warming party," Scott says.

"Who are you going to invite?" I ask.

"That's the thing," he says, looking uncomfortable. "I don't know who I can invite if you're going to be here. And I want you to be here," he adds, almost as an afterthought. "It'd seem wrong if you weren't."

"You could invite David and his girlfriend," I suggest, "and I guess you could invite Claire and Damian."

"Lauren doesn't know I'm gay," he says. "I asked David not to tell her. And Damian doesn't know, does he?"

"Not yet," I say casually, "but it's hardly a problem. He obviously knows I'm gay, but he's never mentioned it once. He's always really nice to me."

"But I've known these guys for years," he objects.

"So?" I counter. "If they're real friends, it won't make any difference. When I told Claire, she never batted an eyelid. Seriously, you have to start trusting a few people."

"Okay," he says, giving me a wry grin. "If you say so."

"Of course," I go on, "if you want, you can hold a second party for some of the boys you used to play football with. I won't be at that one."

"And you'd be cool with that?" he asks.

"Sure," I say. "After all, it's your flat."

"I might," he says, still sounding uncertain. "I'm not sure yet. It's great that you're so cool about it, but now that I've found you, I don't want to leave you out."

I'm glowing. If he wanted to make me feel special, he couldn't have said anything better.

"Talking about being cool," I respond, "are you still okay about me going on holiday with Anthony?"

"Yeah, of course!"

"We won't be sleeping in the same bed or anything," I say, "but I know Anthony will expect us to have sex. He and Jayden have this thing, like, when they're apart because they're on holiday or something, they can do as they want. They don't even ask each other, you know?"

"I guess that works for them," he comments.

"I won't do anything if you're not happy about it," I offer.

"Don't be silly!" he says, grinning. "I can't expect you and your ex to live like monks for three weeks. You fixed up this holiday before you even met me. And it's a one-off, yeah? I can live with it as long as he doesn't fuck you. Anyway, I've got something to tell you. Back in January I booked a week in the Canary Islands. I'll be away the last week of June, as soon as I've finished my 'A' levels. I have to start pre-season training in the middle of July, so it's the only chance I'll get. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course not," I tell him.

"You don't have to worry," he assures me, "I won't be getting up to anything, just relaxing in the sunshine. It'll be tough, being without you for a week, but I'm sure I'll manage."

I've got the message loud and clear. He's okay with me having sex with Anthony while we're on holiday, as long as we don't fuck. After that, he'll expect us to be strictly one-to-one. That's cool with me. I've spent the last year and a half telling myself that once I found a proper boyfriend, I'd stop having sex with other guys. So once I get back from holiday, it'll be me and Scott, end of story.

The past ten days have simply flown past. I've visited Scott's flat almost every day. Last weekend, he had an away match in the north east. I think it was Middlesbrough. He had to leave at half past ten on Friday morning and didn't get back until late on Saturday. I had to manage without him for two whole days!

Sex with Scott is everything I've ever wanted, very physical, incredibly intense but wonderfully affectionate. He makes me feel better than anyone ever has. It's weird. We've only been together for a few weeks, but having him around makes me feel so special, I can't imagine life without him.

But it's not all about sex. We've spent hours just talking, about things we've done and things we hope to do. We've more in common than I'd have believed. Although we do very different things, we think in exactly the same way: work hard, believe in yourself and don't settle for second best. Right now, I'm more focused than I've ever been. Having Scott around has given me renewed confidence and even greater determination to achieve the things I've always wanted to achieve.

Last night was Scott's flat-warming party. As I suggested, he invited David, Lauren, Claire and Damian. It went really well. The fact that Scott and I are gay while the others are straight wasn't even mentioned. The challenges that we face are much the same as theirs. Of course, David and Damian were envious of Scott already having his own place, but not in a resentful way. They understand the sacrifices he's had to make to get to where he is.

It's now Sunday afternoon, and I'm on my way to Scott's flat. I climb the stairs and ring the bell. He lets me in, closing the door behind me.

"Come here," he says gently, kissing me on the lips, his tongue pushing into my mouth.

We wander into the bedroom. Everything's ready. We slowly undress each other. He pulls down my training pants to reveal the football shorts that I'm wearing underneath.

"Hmmmm!" he purrs. "Very nice!"

He kneels in front of me, his hand running up my thigh.

"You're not wearing anything under them!" he breathes. "That is so sexy!"

"Yeah, I respond. "It's so you can fuck me with them on."

"Seriously?" he queries, his eyes widening. "Well, if that's what you want . . ."

It was exactly what I wanted, really intense and physical. I've cum in my shorts. I pull them off, leaving them on the floor. We get onto the bed, wrapping our arms around each other, our mouths meeting in a wonderful post-fuck kiss.

Lying here with the guy that means more to me than anyone ever has, I'm blissfully happy. I've dreamed for so long about being in this situation. Now that it's finally happened, I've discovered that it's even better than I'd imagined.

Of course, we'll have lots of challenges to face. Scott hasn't even thought about coming out to his mum and dad, and I'll have to get my parents used to the idea of me having a boyfriend. But to be perfectly honest, none of that matters. As long as we have each other, we're going to come through whatever life throws at us.


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