07-11-2025, 02:39 PM
Friday, June 22, 2001, around 11 p.m.:
There I was, standing in the entrance to the cellar, having a smoke. Not that I minded being seen smoking, I was past that age, but why cause stress for yourself or others.
The night was clear. I saw many stars.
I enjoyed the silence after today's hustle and bustle. My eyes closed and I smelled the hay that had been made in front of the hotel that day. It reminded me of the past. What haven't we done in the hay.
I sat down on the step of the stairs. Was I happy? Satisfied?
I was fine. I had been lucky almost all the time. Few injuries and always in the right place at the right time.
Oh, the reader wants to know who I am. Kai.
Kai Oberhäuser, 24 years old, midfielder in a Ruhr Valley club and international.
18-time!
Hence, no one forbade me from smoking anymore.
But the question of happiness and satisfaction?
Yes, more or less, I was satisfied. Happy?
I would have liked someone who was honest with me. I already had three relationships behind me, some more or less long. It always ended with the ladies looking for someone who spent even more money on them and wasn't out of the house as often as I was.
But I didn't really miss it. There were always some girls around after training or a game, and there was always an opportunity to do it somewhere, so I didn't get a seed fit.
I took another deep drag of smoke into my lungs. The night was really nice.
It wasn't too warm for June yet, and I thought of the evenings at home with my parents and my stepbrother on the terrace.
A lot had changed in the last two or three years.
Painful memories came back.
I'd better go to sleep too, the game is tomorrow.
It wasn't really important anymore, but at the moment we players weren't in good standing, because we had played too badly recently.
I wanted to at least try to play well tomorrow.
I was just about to leave when I heard voices next door.
One was very angry and the other was trying to calm him down.
The angry one belonged to our trainer. I had had problems with him in the past, but since I regularly scored my goals, we had something like a truce.
What might have upset him so much? I listened (what you know, what you should know).
“A fag in my squad and no one told me!”
"Now give me a break.”
I recognized the voice of Hüsch. Franz Hüsch, our assistant coach.
“He didn't do anything to you and was just honest with you.”
“Doesn't matter, I don't want any gays on the team.”
I thought about it. It could only be one of the new ones that Gerd meant. I knew from one of the newcomers, although he had no idea that I knew. Was that the one meant?
We had four new players on the squad this morning. There was Janne Münter, 17 years old, he was still an amateur and a student, had the number 23 and played as a man-to-man marker. Lars Simon, 18 years young, he was also still a student, but as far as I knew, he already had a contract or was still negotiating. He was the goalkeeper with the number 30, then Larsen Neumann, also 18 years old and a student, wore the number 33 and was to be used in the offense. He had already signed with a top club. We still had 4 players from that club here. Last but not least, there was Michael Klünter, Jens' little brother. He was 22 years old, already wore the number 4 and was in defense.
Gerd continued:
“He'll be slaughtered tomorrow, you can bet on it. I'll line up the team right away. The number 1 will be injured. If our Schwuli gets the ball in the net, he'll be torn to pieces in the press. You can count on it.”
Oh, him, he meant.
Lars.
Lars Simon. Him? Lars? He hadn't given me that impression. I had to grin, as I'll explain in a moment.
First, though, I have to write about what occurred to me at that moment.
It had started that morning.
Friday 22.06.2001 9:00 a.m.:
I drove into the hotel parking lot, took my bag out of the trunk and went to the bus. Some of the other players were already there. I gave my luggage to Kalle, the bus driver. He would bring it to the hotel room later.
I greeted the others and the two newcomers, Larsen Neumann and Michael Klünter. Our German black African Kunta Simba was already there too. I got on really well with him. The others slowly arrived, along with Gerd and the assistant trainer Franz.
Franz was counting the attendees when two more newcomers arrived. They were brought by mum or dad.
Lars Simon and Janne Münter.
Janne was the one I knew, but he didn't know me. I had sharpened the knife on him, as I first learned from the newspaper that he was in the lineup. He had to be prepared for something.
After the general blah-blah, we drove to the stadium and were expected by the press and fans.
They mostly pounced on the new players and the coach. The rest of us tried to get to the dressing room unscathed.
Kalle had already prepared everything there, with shoes and jerseys each in their usual place. Kalle, our driver, was the soul of our team. If there were small problems, he solved them. But he also had a sense for when something was wrong.
I was surprised to find the seat next to me occupied. The number 30, the reserve goalkeeper. He wasn't there yet.
I changed and talked to Kunta.
Gerd came into the dressing room and asked for Lars Simon. He came rushing in at that moment.
He apologized and quickly changed. Then he stood up, held out his hand and said,
“I'm Lars Simon, I'm happy to be here.”
He paused and added a little more quietly,
"Above all, I'm happy to meet you. I'm your fan.”
Statements like that make me, at least, embarrassed and I shook my head. As I did so, I looked at him more closely.
He was at least 1.80 m tall, slim, had dark blond hair, which was cut very short on the sides and otherwise ended at a length. When he took off his T-shirt and pants, you could see a really nice body. You couldn't guess anything else from the boxers, but I didn't have any interest in that anyway; the girls would be interested in that.
He had to talk to Gerd and then go to the team doctor.
The rest of us left. The new guys introduced themselves while we were warming up. They were all nice, except for Janne. No, that's not true. He was probably as nice as Lars, and he also looked a lot like Lars in terms of height and build. He had dark hair and looked even younger than seventeen. He seemed so vulnerable and yet I hated him.
We did a few stretching exercises and then we all had to go to the team doctor one by one. Lars was the first to go, and in my opinion, he came back a little distressed, as if something had happened. But in the end, I didn't know him well enough to worry about it. I wasn't his nanny.
Lunch at 12:00 went without any peculiarities.
After lunch, we were able to retire to our rooms, and then the training was to continue at 2:00 p.m.
Some stayed in the reception.
But I thought I would take a nap. I got the key and went to my room. In the past, I always shared the room with Oliver Hobt. But he was injured, so I was surprised to see someone else, Lars Simon, lying in one of the beds.
When he saw me, he immediately jumped up.
“If you want to sleep here, I'll gladly take the other bed."
I was a bit surprised to find him here, since it was usual to ask the old players if a greenhorn should join them in their room, but Kalle, who also took care of it, was sure to have a reason. I generally accepted what Kalle did, so I said to Lars:
“No, you can stay in bed. I hope you're a heavy sleeper, because sometimes I snore.“
He looked embarrassed:
”I was once told that I talk in my sleep. Just wake me up then.“
I couldn't help but ruffle his hair.
”It's okay, I think we'll get along. Okay?"
He nodded and lay down again.
These seconds,
- the touch of his hair,
- the confession of talking in his sleep,
- his appearance.
Tears came to my eyes. How much he resembled Dennis.
I lay down and my thoughts wandered back.
Dennis:
I hear him laugh, talk. A wild blond. As tall as me, but half my weight. Always friendly; good at school. Respected by everyone, I thought.
Him, yes, I loved him. He was the only one I loved.
At first I was against the marriage. My mother surprised me with it. She wanted to get married again. My father had left early. The man, Hans, had a son, 13 years old, whom he wanted to bring into the marriage, Dennis. I was totally against it and made no bones about it, saying at every appropriate and inappropriate opportunity that I did not agree with the new family. Although it was the biggest nonsense, I was 21 and could have moved out anytime, completely stupid.
My mother suddenly left me alone with it. At first I didn't understand why, but then I did.
The doorbell rang, I was home alone, my mother was at a conference.
A kid stood in front of me and looked at me. I thought he wanted an autograph. He shook his head and said:
“No. I just wanted to see the asshole who's putting me down and doesn't know me at all. I'm Dennis Lange, Hans' son!“
I was speechless at such an address. I looked at him in amazement. He grinned.
”May I come in?”
I let him in and he looked at everything. My dislike for him lasted two minutes. He told me about himself and his father and asked me about things I didn't remember. He was interesting. I offered him something to drink. We continued talking. He laughed and was thoughtful at the same time. I was fascinated by him.
Sorry, I think I should tell the gentle reader that there was no sexual interest here, at least not on my part, since I was in a heterosexual relationship at the time and my gay phase had been over for at least three years.
Nevertheless, I had fallen in love with the little one. Honestly, he was the brother I always wanted to have. It was getting late that day. The phone rang and a man's voice on the other end:
“Excuse me, this is Hans, is Dennis with you, I'm very worried.”
I looked at the clock, half past ten. Crap.
“I'm sorry, I missed the time. I had such a good time talking to Dennis. What do we do now? Should I take him home? Can he sleep here?“
”I don't know what he wants, he can stay with you if you like, but if he annoys you, I'll come and get him."
I looked at Dennis. No, he didn't annoy me.
“Of course he's staying here, he'll move in here sooner or later, I hope so. Right?“
Dennis beamed from ear to ear at the words and nodded vigorously.
”You have to know, your mother has made everything dependent on your decision.“
”I just told you my decision... told you. Come over tomorrow so we can get to know each other. I was so stupid.”
That was three years ago. We got along. That same evening, or night, we talked until 4:00 a.m. He had undressed and lay down in my bed with only his underwear on. Absolutely no fear of contact. We told each other everything. About school, sports, fears, desires.
He asked me about my first time, what it was like. I was so captivated by him that I told him about my feelings and also my failures. He also revealed that he was seduced by two girls for the first time and that he didn't like it. The girls had spoken condescendingly about him afterwards. We could tell each other everything. Crazy.
My mother then remarried and I was able to experience the best times as far as family is concerned.
When he was 14, he would stand in front of my bed in the evening, or rather in the morning. He had something on his mind.
I moved over, not caring that I had a game the next day, I could still sleep.
He told me that he was in love, he was so cute. He swore he was really in love. I was happy for him, I told him so. He turned to me.
“You're my big brother. I always wanted something like that. When I was standing in the doorway and calling you names, that's when it happened to me. I fell in love with you as my brother. Now I'm lying next to you, someone else, different. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I love you as a brother too, you know that. At the same time, I love Katja too, obviously in a different way, and I have sex with her too.“
”It's a boy I love. Is that bad?"
I saw a tear roll down his face in the light of the lanterns. I took him in my arms.
“No, it's not bad at all. You, that means you, have to follow your heart."
It was a beautiful time, Hans also found out about it, said nothing against the relationship.
I became the confidant of love; when something happened, he told me about it. Afterwards, I knew almost everything about the boy. He was just lovely. I also tried to give him advice if he wanted it, but I always accepted his approach.
Then he wanted to introduce us to his friend Jan, who was a year older than him, as he called him, and with whom he had been together for three months.
It was April 13, 1999, when we waited in vain for the two of them.
It was the most terrible day of my life. The doorbell rang, I thought Dennis had forgotten the key, and there were two policemen standing in front of the door, looking down, holding their caps in their hands and saying something.
I only heard Dennis, trucks, no chance.
It took me a long time to get over the loss. Even today, every thought of him hurts.
Little by little, the truth about what happened came out. Not everyone at school liked him. Some had seen him with his friend in a suggestive pose. They were probably after him when he ran in front of the truck, whether intentionally or unintentionally?
But what made me particularly angry was that his friend didn't stand by him; he didn't even come to the funeral, I resented that, very much, it made me furious. I knew him, he would pay, bitterly pay!
Lars shook me by the shoulders.
“What's the matter with you? You're crying. What is it?”
I shouted at him:
“If you say a word, then...“
He looked at me in horror. Tears were now in his eyes, like a beaten dog.
”No, I don't mean that, I'm sorry.“
I pulled him down by the jersey and he sat down next to me.
”I was thinking of my brother, you're so much like him."
I added.
“What about him?“
I took a breath
”He's dead.“
He wanted to ask something, looked at me, I shook my head.
”I'm sorry, really."
he just said.
Friday 22.06.2001 2:00 p.m.:
I washed the tears from my eyes and we went to the bus. The others were already waiting. After the warm-up, we played against each other. Janne was on the other team.
I positioned myself so that he would have to cross my path at some point.
Of course, this was just a warm-up game, you couldn't get hurt normally. I wanted to change that with Janne.
He ran towards me with the ball. I took aim and, pretending to play the ball, kicked Janne full in the knee.
In my mind, I could already hear the crack of the broken knee.
Janne saw the foot coming and my gaze. He was frightened, but couldn't get out of the way. He closed his eyes. Centimeters before I touched him, something yanked me around. I don't know what it was, there was no one around. It was as if someone had pushed me. Janne kept running. I remained lying there for a moment, stunned.
"Man Kai, what was that for?”
Kunta was talking to me.
“Did you want to ruin the new guy?”
I mumbled something about 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to' and such, and sat down on the bench for a moment and involuntarily watched the goalkeeping training.
Gerd was pretty rough with Lars. I didn't know him like that at all. Normally he was very friendly, especially with new players.
Well, I wasn't very friendly to Janne either. I continued playing. Janne didn't come near me again.
Then it was time for dinner. We went to shower. Unlike this morning, everyone was suddenly in the locker room and under the showers.
It's always like that, as a heterosexual you can shower naked together, but you're not allowed to look at each other, or if you do, it's just a quick, cool glance. Above all, don't show any reaction.
Unfortunately, that doesn't always work, and I saw how the new guys, after hesitantly undressing, almost popped their eyes out when Kunta let down his trousers.
Cheeky as he was, he turned around to them again. But he also had a dick. Like half a Blutwurstring.
“Well guys, do you like that?”
He laughed and went to the shower.
The four of them also laughed embarrassedly, with Janne blushing bright red. Lars was also very embarrassed.
I went into the shower, followed by Lars.
As he stood next to me, I looked at him briefly.
Ping - even more Dennis!
Why did I keep seeing Dennis in him? Dennis usually showered with me. We weren't shy about looking at each other either. I asked him at the beginning if he could even pull back the foreskin. He didn't say yes or no, he stood in front of me and pulled it down and showed me that he could do it.
Now Lars was standing next to me, his little one looked like Dennis's. Small, little hair, long foreskin, small sack.
“I don't have any more,”
he said quietly.
I flinched. He caught me staring, it was embarrassing.
“Excuse me... I... uh... shit... please don't think I'm gay, I'm not. But I'll explain something to you tonight."
I turned around and without me saying anything, he washed my back. His hands on my body. I cried, - Dennis -, I held my face in the shower so nobody could see the tears.
Dinner went well. Gerd said that he would announce the exact team line-up tomorrow.
“I just ask that you all be in bed by 10:00 p.m. That also goes for our gamers.”
He looked at Hubert, Janik, and Dieter.
I wondered what I should do. I sat down in an armchair and watched the people. Janne kept a distance of at least 10 meters around me. Lars talked to Gerd and the two were obviously arguing. Lars shook his head and left the room quickly.
I decided to go after him, not necessarily to find out what was going on, but I wanted to explain to him what had happened in the shower.
When I entered the room, he was lying on the bed and crying. He hadn't noticed me coming at all and jumped in fright when I sat down on the bed next to him.
"What is it? Can I help you?”
As I said, he looked up in fright, looked at me, wiped away his tears and shook his head.
“No. Thanks, I'm fine, it's nothing.”
I looked at him, but he said nothing more.
“I wanted to explain to you what happened in the shower.”
“It didn't happen.”
he replied.
“Yes, I looked at you, looked at you for too long, others might think something. I think you noticed it too.“
He shrugged.
”As you stood there naked, I saw my brother Dennis in you again. Like this afternoon. You would pass as brothers if he were still alive. Even your cock looks like a copy of his.”
“Is that why you were crying?"
I didn't think he had noticed. I nodded. We talked for a very long time. He talked about himself, about school, and I, if I'm being honest, talked almost exclusively about my stepbrother Dennis.
I realized that he still had something on his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to tell me.
It was almost 11 p.m.
I wanted to have another smoke and said to him:
“I'm going to have a cigarette now. I have a favor to ask of you, but don't get me wrong.”
“You smoke?”
he interrupted me.
I grinned at him.
“Doesn't everyone have some secrets?”
I asked back.
He blushed, said nothing.
“So one more request, if I go out for a smoke now, you'll have time to jerk off. Otherwise, if I want to sleep and someone's jerking off, I don't like it. Or you have to go to the bathroom. Okay?”
He now became embarrassed and took a breath.
“You don't have to say anything. You don't have to. When I was your age, I had to release pressure at least twice a day."
I grinned at him and left him alone with my words.
Since I still suspected our trainer was in the hall, I went to smoke at the back of the basement stairs
There I was, standing in the entrance to the cellar, having a smoke. Not that I minded being seen smoking, I was past that age, but why cause stress for yourself or others.
The night was clear. I saw many stars.
I enjoyed the silence after today's hustle and bustle. My eyes closed and I smelled the hay that had been made in front of the hotel that day. It reminded me of the past. What haven't we done in the hay.
I sat down on the step of the stairs. Was I happy? Satisfied?
I was fine. I had been lucky almost all the time. Few injuries and always in the right place at the right time.
Oh, the reader wants to know who I am. Kai.
Kai Oberhäuser, 24 years old, midfielder in a Ruhr Valley club and international.
18-time!
Hence, no one forbade me from smoking anymore.
But the question of happiness and satisfaction?
Yes, more or less, I was satisfied. Happy?
I would have liked someone who was honest with me. I already had three relationships behind me, some more or less long. It always ended with the ladies looking for someone who spent even more money on them and wasn't out of the house as often as I was.
But I didn't really miss it. There were always some girls around after training or a game, and there was always an opportunity to do it somewhere, so I didn't get a seed fit.
I took another deep drag of smoke into my lungs. The night was really nice.
It wasn't too warm for June yet, and I thought of the evenings at home with my parents and my stepbrother on the terrace.
A lot had changed in the last two or three years.
Painful memories came back.
I'd better go to sleep too, the game is tomorrow.
It wasn't really important anymore, but at the moment we players weren't in good standing, because we had played too badly recently.
I wanted to at least try to play well tomorrow.
I was just about to leave when I heard voices next door.
One was very angry and the other was trying to calm him down.
The angry one belonged to our trainer. I had had problems with him in the past, but since I regularly scored my goals, we had something like a truce.
What might have upset him so much? I listened (what you know, what you should know).
“A fag in my squad and no one told me!”
"Now give me a break.”
I recognized the voice of Hüsch. Franz Hüsch, our assistant coach.
“He didn't do anything to you and was just honest with you.”
“Doesn't matter, I don't want any gays on the team.”
I thought about it. It could only be one of the new ones that Gerd meant. I knew from one of the newcomers, although he had no idea that I knew. Was that the one meant?
We had four new players on the squad this morning. There was Janne Münter, 17 years old, he was still an amateur and a student, had the number 23 and played as a man-to-man marker. Lars Simon, 18 years young, he was also still a student, but as far as I knew, he already had a contract or was still negotiating. He was the goalkeeper with the number 30, then Larsen Neumann, also 18 years old and a student, wore the number 33 and was to be used in the offense. He had already signed with a top club. We still had 4 players from that club here. Last but not least, there was Michael Klünter, Jens' little brother. He was 22 years old, already wore the number 4 and was in defense.
Gerd continued:
“He'll be slaughtered tomorrow, you can bet on it. I'll line up the team right away. The number 1 will be injured. If our Schwuli gets the ball in the net, he'll be torn to pieces in the press. You can count on it.”
Oh, him, he meant.
Lars.
Lars Simon. Him? Lars? He hadn't given me that impression. I had to grin, as I'll explain in a moment.
First, though, I have to write about what occurred to me at that moment.
It had started that morning.
Friday 22.06.2001 9:00 a.m.:
I drove into the hotel parking lot, took my bag out of the trunk and went to the bus. Some of the other players were already there. I gave my luggage to Kalle, the bus driver. He would bring it to the hotel room later.
I greeted the others and the two newcomers, Larsen Neumann and Michael Klünter. Our German black African Kunta Simba was already there too. I got on really well with him. The others slowly arrived, along with Gerd and the assistant trainer Franz.
Franz was counting the attendees when two more newcomers arrived. They were brought by mum or dad.
Lars Simon and Janne Münter.
Janne was the one I knew, but he didn't know me. I had sharpened the knife on him, as I first learned from the newspaper that he was in the lineup. He had to be prepared for something.
After the general blah-blah, we drove to the stadium and were expected by the press and fans.
They mostly pounced on the new players and the coach. The rest of us tried to get to the dressing room unscathed.
Kalle had already prepared everything there, with shoes and jerseys each in their usual place. Kalle, our driver, was the soul of our team. If there were small problems, he solved them. But he also had a sense for when something was wrong.
I was surprised to find the seat next to me occupied. The number 30, the reserve goalkeeper. He wasn't there yet.
I changed and talked to Kunta.
Gerd came into the dressing room and asked for Lars Simon. He came rushing in at that moment.
He apologized and quickly changed. Then he stood up, held out his hand and said,
“I'm Lars Simon, I'm happy to be here.”
He paused and added a little more quietly,
"Above all, I'm happy to meet you. I'm your fan.”
Statements like that make me, at least, embarrassed and I shook my head. As I did so, I looked at him more closely.
He was at least 1.80 m tall, slim, had dark blond hair, which was cut very short on the sides and otherwise ended at a length. When he took off his T-shirt and pants, you could see a really nice body. You couldn't guess anything else from the boxers, but I didn't have any interest in that anyway; the girls would be interested in that.
He had to talk to Gerd and then go to the team doctor.
The rest of us left. The new guys introduced themselves while we were warming up. They were all nice, except for Janne. No, that's not true. He was probably as nice as Lars, and he also looked a lot like Lars in terms of height and build. He had dark hair and looked even younger than seventeen. He seemed so vulnerable and yet I hated him.
We did a few stretching exercises and then we all had to go to the team doctor one by one. Lars was the first to go, and in my opinion, he came back a little distressed, as if something had happened. But in the end, I didn't know him well enough to worry about it. I wasn't his nanny.
Lunch at 12:00 went without any peculiarities.
After lunch, we were able to retire to our rooms, and then the training was to continue at 2:00 p.m.
Some stayed in the reception.
But I thought I would take a nap. I got the key and went to my room. In the past, I always shared the room with Oliver Hobt. But he was injured, so I was surprised to see someone else, Lars Simon, lying in one of the beds.
When he saw me, he immediately jumped up.
“If you want to sleep here, I'll gladly take the other bed."
I was a bit surprised to find him here, since it was usual to ask the old players if a greenhorn should join them in their room, but Kalle, who also took care of it, was sure to have a reason. I generally accepted what Kalle did, so I said to Lars:
“No, you can stay in bed. I hope you're a heavy sleeper, because sometimes I snore.“
He looked embarrassed:
”I was once told that I talk in my sleep. Just wake me up then.“
I couldn't help but ruffle his hair.
”It's okay, I think we'll get along. Okay?"
He nodded and lay down again.
These seconds,
- the touch of his hair,
- the confession of talking in his sleep,
- his appearance.
Tears came to my eyes. How much he resembled Dennis.
I lay down and my thoughts wandered back.
Dennis:
I hear him laugh, talk. A wild blond. As tall as me, but half my weight. Always friendly; good at school. Respected by everyone, I thought.
Him, yes, I loved him. He was the only one I loved.
At first I was against the marriage. My mother surprised me with it. She wanted to get married again. My father had left early. The man, Hans, had a son, 13 years old, whom he wanted to bring into the marriage, Dennis. I was totally against it and made no bones about it, saying at every appropriate and inappropriate opportunity that I did not agree with the new family. Although it was the biggest nonsense, I was 21 and could have moved out anytime, completely stupid.
My mother suddenly left me alone with it. At first I didn't understand why, but then I did.
The doorbell rang, I was home alone, my mother was at a conference.
A kid stood in front of me and looked at me. I thought he wanted an autograph. He shook his head and said:
“No. I just wanted to see the asshole who's putting me down and doesn't know me at all. I'm Dennis Lange, Hans' son!“
I was speechless at such an address. I looked at him in amazement. He grinned.
”May I come in?”
I let him in and he looked at everything. My dislike for him lasted two minutes. He told me about himself and his father and asked me about things I didn't remember. He was interesting. I offered him something to drink. We continued talking. He laughed and was thoughtful at the same time. I was fascinated by him.
Sorry, I think I should tell the gentle reader that there was no sexual interest here, at least not on my part, since I was in a heterosexual relationship at the time and my gay phase had been over for at least three years.
Nevertheless, I had fallen in love with the little one. Honestly, he was the brother I always wanted to have. It was getting late that day. The phone rang and a man's voice on the other end:
“Excuse me, this is Hans, is Dennis with you, I'm very worried.”
I looked at the clock, half past ten. Crap.
“I'm sorry, I missed the time. I had such a good time talking to Dennis. What do we do now? Should I take him home? Can he sleep here?“
”I don't know what he wants, he can stay with you if you like, but if he annoys you, I'll come and get him."
I looked at Dennis. No, he didn't annoy me.
“Of course he's staying here, he'll move in here sooner or later, I hope so. Right?“
Dennis beamed from ear to ear at the words and nodded vigorously.
”You have to know, your mother has made everything dependent on your decision.“
”I just told you my decision... told you. Come over tomorrow so we can get to know each other. I was so stupid.”
That was three years ago. We got along. That same evening, or night, we talked until 4:00 a.m. He had undressed and lay down in my bed with only his underwear on. Absolutely no fear of contact. We told each other everything. About school, sports, fears, desires.
He asked me about my first time, what it was like. I was so captivated by him that I told him about my feelings and also my failures. He also revealed that he was seduced by two girls for the first time and that he didn't like it. The girls had spoken condescendingly about him afterwards. We could tell each other everything. Crazy.
My mother then remarried and I was able to experience the best times as far as family is concerned.
When he was 14, he would stand in front of my bed in the evening, or rather in the morning. He had something on his mind.
I moved over, not caring that I had a game the next day, I could still sleep.
He told me that he was in love, he was so cute. He swore he was really in love. I was happy for him, I told him so. He turned to me.
“You're my big brother. I always wanted something like that. When I was standing in the doorway and calling you names, that's when it happened to me. I fell in love with you as my brother. Now I'm lying next to you, someone else, different. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I love you as a brother too, you know that. At the same time, I love Katja too, obviously in a different way, and I have sex with her too.“
”It's a boy I love. Is that bad?"
I saw a tear roll down his face in the light of the lanterns. I took him in my arms.
“No, it's not bad at all. You, that means you, have to follow your heart."
It was a beautiful time, Hans also found out about it, said nothing against the relationship.
I became the confidant of love; when something happened, he told me about it. Afterwards, I knew almost everything about the boy. He was just lovely. I also tried to give him advice if he wanted it, but I always accepted his approach.
Then he wanted to introduce us to his friend Jan, who was a year older than him, as he called him, and with whom he had been together for three months.
It was April 13, 1999, when we waited in vain for the two of them.
It was the most terrible day of my life. The doorbell rang, I thought Dennis had forgotten the key, and there were two policemen standing in front of the door, looking down, holding their caps in their hands and saying something.
I only heard Dennis, trucks, no chance.
It took me a long time to get over the loss. Even today, every thought of him hurts.
Little by little, the truth about what happened came out. Not everyone at school liked him. Some had seen him with his friend in a suggestive pose. They were probably after him when he ran in front of the truck, whether intentionally or unintentionally?
But what made me particularly angry was that his friend didn't stand by him; he didn't even come to the funeral, I resented that, very much, it made me furious. I knew him, he would pay, bitterly pay!
Lars shook me by the shoulders.
“What's the matter with you? You're crying. What is it?”
I shouted at him:
“If you say a word, then...“
He looked at me in horror. Tears were now in his eyes, like a beaten dog.
”No, I don't mean that, I'm sorry.“
I pulled him down by the jersey and he sat down next to me.
”I was thinking of my brother, you're so much like him."
I added.
“What about him?“
I took a breath
”He's dead.“
He wanted to ask something, looked at me, I shook my head.
”I'm sorry, really."
he just said.
Friday 22.06.2001 2:00 p.m.:
I washed the tears from my eyes and we went to the bus. The others were already waiting. After the warm-up, we played against each other. Janne was on the other team.
I positioned myself so that he would have to cross my path at some point.
Of course, this was just a warm-up game, you couldn't get hurt normally. I wanted to change that with Janne.
He ran towards me with the ball. I took aim and, pretending to play the ball, kicked Janne full in the knee.
In my mind, I could already hear the crack of the broken knee.
Janne saw the foot coming and my gaze. He was frightened, but couldn't get out of the way. He closed his eyes. Centimeters before I touched him, something yanked me around. I don't know what it was, there was no one around. It was as if someone had pushed me. Janne kept running. I remained lying there for a moment, stunned.
"Man Kai, what was that for?”
Kunta was talking to me.
“Did you want to ruin the new guy?”
I mumbled something about 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to' and such, and sat down on the bench for a moment and involuntarily watched the goalkeeping training.
Gerd was pretty rough with Lars. I didn't know him like that at all. Normally he was very friendly, especially with new players.
Well, I wasn't very friendly to Janne either. I continued playing. Janne didn't come near me again.
Then it was time for dinner. We went to shower. Unlike this morning, everyone was suddenly in the locker room and under the showers.
It's always like that, as a heterosexual you can shower naked together, but you're not allowed to look at each other, or if you do, it's just a quick, cool glance. Above all, don't show any reaction.
Unfortunately, that doesn't always work, and I saw how the new guys, after hesitantly undressing, almost popped their eyes out when Kunta let down his trousers.
Cheeky as he was, he turned around to them again. But he also had a dick. Like half a Blutwurstring.
“Well guys, do you like that?”
He laughed and went to the shower.
The four of them also laughed embarrassedly, with Janne blushing bright red. Lars was also very embarrassed.
I went into the shower, followed by Lars.
As he stood next to me, I looked at him briefly.
Ping - even more Dennis!
Why did I keep seeing Dennis in him? Dennis usually showered with me. We weren't shy about looking at each other either. I asked him at the beginning if he could even pull back the foreskin. He didn't say yes or no, he stood in front of me and pulled it down and showed me that he could do it.
Now Lars was standing next to me, his little one looked like Dennis's. Small, little hair, long foreskin, small sack.
“I don't have any more,”
he said quietly.
I flinched. He caught me staring, it was embarrassing.
“Excuse me... I... uh... shit... please don't think I'm gay, I'm not. But I'll explain something to you tonight."
I turned around and without me saying anything, he washed my back. His hands on my body. I cried, - Dennis -, I held my face in the shower so nobody could see the tears.
Dinner went well. Gerd said that he would announce the exact team line-up tomorrow.
“I just ask that you all be in bed by 10:00 p.m. That also goes for our gamers.”
He looked at Hubert, Janik, and Dieter.
I wondered what I should do. I sat down in an armchair and watched the people. Janne kept a distance of at least 10 meters around me. Lars talked to Gerd and the two were obviously arguing. Lars shook his head and left the room quickly.
I decided to go after him, not necessarily to find out what was going on, but I wanted to explain to him what had happened in the shower.
When I entered the room, he was lying on the bed and crying. He hadn't noticed me coming at all and jumped in fright when I sat down on the bed next to him.
"What is it? Can I help you?”
As I said, he looked up in fright, looked at me, wiped away his tears and shook his head.
“No. Thanks, I'm fine, it's nothing.”
I looked at him, but he said nothing more.
“I wanted to explain to you what happened in the shower.”
“It didn't happen.”
he replied.
“Yes, I looked at you, looked at you for too long, others might think something. I think you noticed it too.“
He shrugged.
”As you stood there naked, I saw my brother Dennis in you again. Like this afternoon. You would pass as brothers if he were still alive. Even your cock looks like a copy of his.”
“Is that why you were crying?"
I didn't think he had noticed. I nodded. We talked for a very long time. He talked about himself, about school, and I, if I'm being honest, talked almost exclusively about my stepbrother Dennis.
I realized that he still had something on his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to tell me.
It was almost 11 p.m.
I wanted to have another smoke and said to him:
“I'm going to have a cigarette now. I have a favor to ask of you, but don't get me wrong.”
“You smoke?”
he interrupted me.
I grinned at him.
“Doesn't everyone have some secrets?”
I asked back.
He blushed, said nothing.
“So one more request, if I go out for a smoke now, you'll have time to jerk off. Otherwise, if I want to sleep and someone's jerking off, I don't like it. Or you have to go to the bathroom. Okay?”
He now became embarrassed and took a breath.
“You don't have to say anything. You don't have to. When I was your age, I had to release pressure at least twice a day."
I grinned at him and left him alone with my words.
Since I still suspected our trainer was in the hall, I went to smoke at the back of the basement stairs