Coach's Assistant

By Tim Tim

Published on May 15, 2001

Gay

Chapter 13 of Coaches assitant.

Here it is the new chapter of my story. I hope you will like it and I am curious to hear what you think of it. (e-mail: noway16@hotmail.com or by ICQ: 36967366). I have to inform you about one thing. Somehow I changed in chapter 3 the name of the brother of Nick. I started with Brian and I changed it in David. I am sorry for that but I want to keep it with David from now on. I would like to thank those of you would made my attention to this change.

I also want to thanks my editor's Dana and Bill who made this chapter better to read. Ok for those who enjoy these kind of stories here is chapter 13.

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I thought was that it had all just been a bad dream. I had slept well during the night and, when I looked outside, I saw that it was already light. But as soon as I turned over, I knew that it hadn't been a dream. I felt how my body protested with every move I made.

I slowly tried to sit up but, when I did, I felt as if my ass had been torn apart. I did my best to do it as slowly as possible and, after a few minutes, I succeeded in sitting straight up in my bed. It was difficult not to start crying again, but I knew I had to keep myself under control. There was only one thing I could do: I had to tell my Dad I was sick and wait until David and he had left.

I had to pretend that I was not feeling well, and that it would be better if I could stay in bed that day. All the humiliation I had gone through would be nothing compared to what I would feel if I ever had to tell any one what had taken place. That was the one thing I could never do. What would they say? What would they do if they knew what had happened?

My mind was dwelling on that unhappy thought when there was a knock on my door.

"Come on in, brother."

"Well, I don't have to ask you how you knew that it was me," he said when he entered the room.

"How are you this morning, bro'. Any better then yesterday evening? OK, that was a dumb thing to ask," he said quickly before I could answer his questions. "You look like hell, so that is all the answer I need. Do you want to have something for breakfast?"

"No thanks, David. Just tell Dad that I'm sick and I'll try to sleep some more. I will get something to eat a little later."

"OK, Nick, do you need anything else before I go?"

"No, thanks. I hope that, with a little sleep, I'll be better by tomorrow."

"Good. I'll be back right after practice this afternoon. Then I'll have time to keep you company or get anything you want. Tonight, I won't be home, so if you want me to pick anything up, I'll have to do it after school. Just think about it and let me know, OK?"

"Thanks, David. Now, get your ass out of here or you'll be late."

"OK, see you around 6."

With that, he walked slowly out of the room and closed the door. I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself together as well as I could. I knew there was a good chance that Dad would be coming up as soon as he heard from David that I was ill. It had been a while since I had been sick.

I almost dozed off but, when I heard a knock on my door, I knew that that would be my Dad. I turned to look at the door and - you guessed it - before I could say anything, the door was opened and Dad walked in.

"What is this, Nick? You're not feeling well today?"

I tried to say something but, like my brother, my Dad continued quite rapidly because he could see that there was something wrong.

"Sorry, Nick, that was a silly question. You look terrible. What's wrong? Do you want me to get the doctor?"

That was the last thing I wanted, so I quickly answered: "I don't think that'll be necessary, Dad. I think it's just a touch of the flu. I know I look like hell, but I just need some more rest and I'll shower when I wake up again."

"Are you sure, Nick? It doesn't look like the flu. Your eyes are completely red and your face lacks any colour at all."

"Well, I already feel better than last night, so let's just wait and see what happens today, Dad. If I'm not better by tomorrow, we can always get a doctor then. I don't want you to have to stay home today, waiting for the doctor to come."

"OK, Nick, but if you don't feel better tomorrow, I'll get in touch with one."

"Thanks, Dad. I'm just going to try to sleep a little more," I said while faking a little yawn in an attempt to persuade him to leave.

"I'll go now, son. Try to sleep a little. I'll be back around 7 tonight. If you need anything at all, just call the school and leave a message. I'll check in every now and then to see how you're doing. See you tonight."

With that, he went out the door and I heard him walk down the stairs.

I sighed in relief, knowing I had pulled it off. It was not that easy because I had never seen Dad so concerned. I was almost curious enough to get out of bed right then just to see how I looked. I knew that crying myself to sleep would have left its marks.

I slowly went back from a sitting position to a more comfortable one lying down. I started to think a little more about what had happened, but I could hardly remember anything from last night. I thought it would be better to leave it alone, as there was nothing I could do about it.

I slipped back to sleep and, for the next few hours, I was completely out of it.

When I woke up again, I looked at the clock and found that it was around 11 o'clock. It had been almost 24 hours since I had eaten anything and my body told me that I needed to get something in my stomach.

I slowly got out of bed, still feeling every move I made. I got into the shower, turned on the tap and, having taken off my underwear, just stood under the warm, soothing water. I must have stood there a long time, trying both to cleanse myself and to let the massaging water soothe my body.

Finally, I decided it was time to get out of the shower and see what I could do about my grumbling stomach. I was on automatic pilot, unready or unwilling to think or feel anything yet. I made some sandwiches and sat down on the couch in the living room.

Just as I was finishing my last sandwich, the telephone rang. I looked around to see where it was, and I stood up gingerly to answer it.

"Hi, Nick, it's me. I just wanted to check to see if you were all right."

I tried to figure out whom I was talking to. I could hear what he said but, somehow, my mind refused to identify the voice.

"Nick, are you there? Are you OK, son?"

That last word seemed to bring me back to the real world. "Sure, Dad, I'm here. I've just had a shower and ate some sandwiches."

"So, you've just gotten out of bed, Nick? I wasn't sure that I should ring you. I was afraid that you'd still be sleeping."

"No, Dad, I just dozed off after you left, and when I woke, I took a shower and got something to eat."

"So, I guess you needed the sleep if you slept until 2 o'clock. You seemed to need the extra rest. Are you feeling any better now?"

"I'm definitely feeling a little better," I said slowly and a little distracted. He said 2 o'clock. That couldn't be right.

"You still don't sound OK, Nick, but we'll talk about that later when I get home. See you tonight. I'll try to get home as early as possible."

"Thanks, Dad."

I put the telephone down and searched for a clock. Dad was right: it was almost two in the afternoon. I went upstairs to check out my own alarm clock by my bed. Maybe that one was wrong. But it also showed that it was 2 o'clock.

I was confused. Either I had been in the shower for almost two and a half hours, or I had been sitting in the living room, unaware of anything happening, for almost the same length of time.

I just couldn't remember anything.

When I look back at that period, I knew that I had somehow started to put up the first barriers against my memories and feelings of what had happened the day before. Somehow, I had instinctively decided that it was necessary to protect myself by forgetting the events of the day before as soon as possible because thinking about them would only mess things up. There was no way that I could tell anyone what had happened. That was just too humiliating for everyone concerned.

I walked slowly back to the living room and, as I sat down, I thought about telling David what had happened. Perhaps that would take some pressure off my mind.

He had said the day before that I could tell him anything. Even so, I could hardly believe that he would keep my story to himself. If he blabbed, I'd be in the same mess I'd be in if I told Dad myself.

I must have continued to daydream throughout the afternoon because the next thing I knew, David entered the living room.

"Hi, bro'. How are you feeling? You look better."

I had made sure that, when I finished in the bathroom that morning, I didn't look as bad as I did when I woke up.

"Thanks, David. I'm feeling much better than I did this morning. I'm still a little bit tired but a good night's sleep will take care of that, I hope."

"Well, Nick, the last time you were sick it took you almost a week to recover."

I knew that that was true, so if I didn't feel better the next morning, I could easily stay at home, pretending I needed to sleep some more.

"Do you need anything before I start preparing supper?"

"No thanks, David. Just don't make too much for me. I'm not that hungry."

"Ok, Dad will be here in about 45 minutes, so I'll try to have everything ready by then."

He left the living room and I put on the TV. I heard Dad come in and go to the kitchen first. I heard him talk to David and then he came into the living room.

He walked over to me and asked me how I was. I assured him that I was already feeling a lot better. We chatted for a few minutes and then David called us to the kitchen because supper was ready.

I was pretty quiet during the meal and left the talking to David and Dad. A few times I saw David looking at me, but I tried to avoid his gaze so he couldn't look into my eyes.

Inevitably, they started to talk about the announcement Dad had made after practice that it was Nemow who was going to be the guest coach. That was something that brought me back to reality.

"So, how did the team respond, Dad?"

"Well, most of them seemed pleased to have such a great gymnast as their coach. Did any one say any thing to you about it David?"

"We talked about it as we left and most of the team were looking forward to his arrival."

"Because Nemov is only going to be here for a week, we'll be holding five practice sessions, one each day. So I hope, for your sake, that you're feeling better by then, Nick. He'll be there on Friday to check out our normal practice routine."

"I am feeling better already, Dad, but I think I might need a little more rest. I slept most of the morning and I'm feeling sleepy again already."

"Are you sure you don't want me to call a doctor? I know that the doctor who did your last physical is in town tomorrow and I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving you a checkup."

I was startled by the idea and didn't know what to say. I was certain that the doctor would want to check up on me, but there was no way that I wanted to face him.

"No, Dad, that isn't necessary. I think I'll be fully recovered with one more day of rest. I'm already feeling a lot better."

"OK, we'll see how you feel tomorrow. If you're not better by then, I think you should see a doctor."

That ended that part of our conversation. David asked Dad something about his routine and I used that diversion to leave the table. I had just about used up all my energy in maintaining a conversation. I finished my supper, excused myself and said that I'd better lie down now. I went upstairs to my bedroom.

I thought it would be better to go to bed, just in case Dad or David came to check on me. I got a book and started to read. I knew that when I did that, I could be completely lost in my thoughts.

I had read quite bit when I heard a knock on the door.

"Nick, are you awake?"

"Yes, David, come in."

"I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to talk to Francis. He came to pick me up, but I'm not ready yet. I need to print one or two assignments for school tomorrow. Could you keep him busy for 15 minutes or so?"

"Fine by me, as long as Francis is OK with it."

"I discussed it with him already, and he just wanted to see you and find out how you were."

David walked back to his room and I heard him talk to someone else. The door opened again and Francis walked in, a little reluctantly. He closed the door behind him.

"Hi, Nick. Just wanted to see how you were."

"I'm feeling a lot better at the moment, but I need more rest. I get very tired whenever I try to do anything. So I guess I need a little bit more sleep and then I'll be fine again."

"Oh, do you want me to leave so you can go to sleep?"

"No, that's not necessary. I was reading some. If I go to sleep now, I'll be awake much too early tomorrow morning. If you want, you can use the chair at the computer desk and have a seat."

Francis got the chair and sat down, just surveying my room. We both had a little problem in talking to each other after what had happened at school the last couple of times. I didn't know if I wanted to talk about it, but I knew I would have to eventually. I wanted to find out what was wrong with Francis, so I decided to ask him directly.

"Francis, I hope you don't mind my asking, but I'm still a little confused about what happened last time, and even more unsure why you don't want to talk about it."

He looked at me and it took a while before he answered.

"I'm sorry about what happened our last time together, Nick. I had no right talking to you like that and I know you are entitled to an explanation for what I did."

"Don't worry about it, Francis. If you don't want to talk about it now, we can always do it later if you prefer."

"No, I do want to talk about it with you. You deserve an explanation. But I'm not sure where to begin."

I looked at him expectantly, not saying anything but making sure that whatever he was going to say, I would keep my emotions under control. I didn't want to get mad or anything.

"I want to start by telling you that I really like you and that that kiss was not something I did by accident or impulse. I really wanted to do it. So I hope you didn't mind."

"No, of course I didn't mind, Francis. I really like you a lot even though we haven't talked that much."

"I know but that doesn't explain why I behaved the way I did. I'm not sure if I should tell you why or not."

"Well, that is up to you, Francis, but can you tell me if you enjoyed it?"

"Oh, it was great, Nick. As I said before, I really like you and if you weren't sick and if David wasn't likely to come in any minute, I'd kiss you again right now."

My heart stopped for a moment. He wanted to kiss me again. He didn't regret it. I still had a bit of a crush on him, not as badly as I did when he first joined the team, but still he was quite good looking.

"You don't have to worry about David, Francis. He knows that I'm gay and he doesn't care."

"You talked about what happened?"

"Yes, we did. He found me looking at you when you first joined the team and he put two and two together. He had to know already because, up `til now, I hadn't dated any girls."

"That's cool, Nick, but I'm not sure whether I want David to know that I am gay, too. So we'd better not kiss right now."

"Ok, but I just want you to know that if you want to, you can." I said that while trying to put my most seductive look on my face.

He looked around the room again. "Nice room you have, Nick. I like what you did with all the different colours on the wall and the way they're placed. Did you do that yourself?"

"I did. I like puttering around with my painting and drawing."

"Well, it is really nice."

I knew I had to try to bring the subject back to the questions I wanted answered. I could see that Francis was still uncomfortable talking about it. I wanted him to know that he was safe with me and could tell me anything he wanted.

"Francis, I just want you to know that whenever you are ready and want to talk about it, I am here for you. I won't tell any one or take advantage of anything you tell me."

"Well, maybe I can tell you one thing already, Nick. One reason why I am not comfortable talking about these things is because of what happened last year. I fell in love with a member of the school gymnastic team who was two years older than me. It took some wrong turns and it didn't work out, and I don't want that to happen with us."

"I'm sorry that happened, Francis. I can understand why you would want to be careful. You were hurt by what happened. Can you tell me something more about him?"

"Well, I'd already known him for a long time, but somehow we started to hang out together more and more last year. We liked the same kind of music, had the same interests. And somewhere along the line, we realized we had deeper feelings for each other than just friendship. He was a really nice guy."

"If you ever want to tell me what happened, just let me know. For now, I think David is almost ready. I just heard him turning off the CD on his computer. Before you go, Francis, could you get me another pillow? They're over there, on the other side of the room."

Francis got the pillow and brought it back to me. I lifted my head just a little bit so he could put it behind me. When he had done that our faces were very close together. We looked into each other's eyes and Francis edged a little closer until, gently, our lips met. It started with a little kiss but slowly we opened our mouths and it became consideranly more passionate. We reluctantly pulled away from each other; we both needed some air.

Francis backed off a bit and had a big smile on his face.

"I liked that, Nick. You have such a lovely pair of lips."

I didn't know what to say, as my face turned red.

"Thanks, Francis. You're a pretty terrific kisser yourself."

At that moment, David entered the room and Francis pulled back very quickly.

"I'm ready to go, Francis. Nick, we're leaving now. I'll check on you when I get back."

"OK, David, have a nice evening, you two." I tried not to be too obvious in front of David, but I wanted to give Francis a warm smile before he left.

They walked out of the room and I was in a much better mood than before. I knew that, if we had some more time together, Francis would open up to me. I drifted away into a lovely, deep sleep. No crying this evening.

I woke up because of a dream. I wasn't sure what I had dreamed about, but I knew it wasn't pleasant because I was sweating a lot. It had been a nightmare, but I just didn't know what it was about. I tried to forget it and got my book and started to read.

I had only slept for about an hour and a half, so it still wasn't very late.

I heard the doorbell ring and my Dad started to talk to someone.

A little while later, I heard him come up the stairs. This time he knocked on the door and asked, "Nick, are you awake?"

"Yes, Dad, I am. You can come in."

He slowly opened the door. "I have a visitor here. Do you want to see him?"

"Who is it, Dad?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you, Nick, but he is a classmate of yours."

I didn't know who would come to visit me just because I was sick. But I wasn't particularly sleepy any more and I feared a return of my nightmare, so I said, "OK, let him come up."

My father turned around and told whoever was down stairs to come up. He turned away and left the door open for the guy who was coming up.

"Hi, Nick. I just needed to see you," Mike said as he walked into the room.

Dad left as Mike entered. I was stunned. I just looked at him. I couldn't say a word.

"I knew you wouldn't want to talk to me. That is why I asked your Dad not to tell you who was here. I'm sorry about that, but I had to know if you were OK. When you didn't show up for school today, and I heard from David that you were sick, I knew I had to come over and see if you were all right."

I still just looked at him. Half way through his speech, I turned my head away. Mike was the last person I wanted to see. I just couldn't say anything to him, so I just lay there, refusing to look at him.

"Please, Nick talk to me. I'm really sorry about what happened. I have to know if you're doing OK."

Somehow, I found the courage to look at him and I started to become really angry with him. "Well, what did you think, Mike, that I liked what happened, that we could just go on with our lives after what took place?"

I started to cry. I just wanted him to leave. I didn't want to talk about it. It would be better if he'd leave right now. But I just didn't have the guts to tell him. I looked away again.

"Please, Nick, don't cry. I feel awful about what happened. If I had known, I would never have left you alone."

"How do you know what happened, Mike? You weren't there. You even can't imagine what awful things happened, so please get out of here." I was still crying, so I said this very softly and slowly without looking at him.

"I know what happened, Nick," Mike whispered.

"You can't know, and if you say `I can imagine what happened,' then that is totally impossible. No one can unless it happened to you."

"I understand, Nick, but I had a long and quite detailed e-mail from the doctors. They told me exactly what happened. They were watching on the computer camera like they did the other day remember? They thought you responded well to the way you were treated." When Mike saw that I was crying even more, he quickly went on. "You have to know that I didn't ask them what happened; they just told me."

"And what do you want me to say now, Mike? Please leave. That is the only thing I want you to do."

"OK Nick. I understand that, but please listen to what I have to tell you. When I am finished saying what I want to say, I will leave right away."

"Do you really think that anything you say will help me? Please leave, Mike."

"No, Nick, you have to listen to me. I am going to have my say whether you listen or not."

I still couldn't look at him. I knew I couldn't force him to leave. I couldn't call Dad without making him suspicious. I just nodded my head to tell Mike to continue. The sooner this was over, the better.

"What you have to know, Nick, is that in the e-mail the doctors sent me, they told me that they liked what happened to you and they wanted me to become more of a master to you. I told them that I couldn't do that unless you agreed. But they've threatened to make public the video they made of what we did at their temporary house if we didn't give in to their demands. So I just wanted to tell you what had happened. I'll leave it up to you how we should respond. That is all I wanted to tell you.

I'll leave now and wait for your answer."

"What answer, Mike? Go, leave now!" I broke down, sobbing, and Mike saw that he was just upsetting me by staying.

He turned around and left the room. I heard him say a few words to my father and then he left.

I hide my face in my pillow to make sure that Dad wouldn't hear me cry. I continued crying for some time and then I gradually fell asleep.

I woke up from a knocking on my door.

"Come in," I called when I was awake enough to say so.

"Were you already sleep, Nick? I just wanted to see how you were," David said when he entered the room.

"Well, I was asleep, but I'm awake now, so come on in."

"What on earth did you say to Francis? He was a completely different person tonight. He was laughing a lot, talking a lot. He seemed completely back to his normal self. Did this anything have to do with your talk?"

I knew I couldn't lie to David, so I just nodded.

"Does this mean, Nick, that you're also feeling much better or has your being sick nothing to with what happened with Francis? I heard from Dad that Mike dropped by to see you, but that he didn't stay very long."

"I think I need just a little bit more sleep, David. I tried all evening but my sleep was disturbed every time I dozed off."

I didn't want to discuss any of this with David. I knew that saying that would get rid of him quickly.

"OK, if that is what you want, Nick, I'll leave you alone. But I am not convinced that you're better yet. Something is still bothering you and if you need to talk about it, I'm here for you."

With that, he turned and walked back to his own room next door. I knew he wasn't convinced that I had the flu, so I thought I should get a good night's rest and try to go to school tomorrow. Otherwise, he and Dad would undoubtedly pressure me to see a doctor.

I slowly dozed off again into a land of not altogether happy dreams.

Ok as I told at the end of chapter 12 already happier times are coming. Here it is the new chapter of my story. I hope you will like it and I am curious to hear what you think of it. (e-mail: noway16@hotmail.com or by ICQ: 36967366).

Next: Chapter 14


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