The Most Difficult Contest

THE MOST DIFFICULT CONTEST by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008 written on December 2, 1993 translated by the author English text kindly revised by Acam

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"THE MOST DIFFICULT CONTEST" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.

CHAPTER 2 - A secret past

Robert checked the times - not bad at all. He looked at Jean Paul who was doing his supplemental hurdles. He liked the boy - he had a strong character. He must be tired and cross with Robert too but he didn't show it. And without realising it Jean Paul was doing exactly what Robert wanted. He was increasing his stamina, his strength and his self-control and soon his performance would improve as a consequence - exactly as Robert had asked and was expecting from him.

Robert was certain that Jean Paul had the makings of a champion. The boy was really lucky. He had all the right muscles in the right places. All he had to do was develop them properly and he would break records without even being aware of it. He just wasn't competitive enough. Jean Paul was playing at sports and his performance was good but not really any better than that because he didn't treat the matter seriously.

If he could only do it, Robert would make Jean Paul into a perfect athlete - the best in his field not only in France but also in Europe and maybe the whole world. And he would certainly be of Olympic standard Robert thought.

He recalled the time when he was a young athlete more than twenty-five years before. They were a good team for those days. But he was the only one of them left in athletics. Chambard was dead. Dupuis had become a fat middle-class man. Perdrix a broken-winded politician... and Berthier, his Berthier... He recalled his Berthier with pleasure. Berthier was three years his elder. He was still fit even though he now had grey hair. At times they still met with affection and pleasure though their love story ended more than twenty years ago.

He remembered their first meeting when he was just seventeen and became a member of the national team. Berthier was twenty-years old. Robert thought he was so beautiful that at their first meeting he knew he wanted to make love to him. Berthier had befriended him and helped him to find his feet with friendly guidance. They began to meet after training quite often.

Robert came from a poor family; Berthier's family on the other hand was wealthy. So he was able to take Robert to the cinema almost every Sunday. And it had been in the cinema that Berthier had put a hand on his thigh in the dark and Robert had stroked that hand. Nothing else happened in the cinema. But afterwards Berthier had invited him home and when they were in his bedroom Berthier had hugged him and kissed him. That was how their love story began. It went on for five years until Berthier decided to get married.

"We have to sort ourselves out. We aren't boys any more." Berthier had said.

Robert had suffered but he accepted the inevitable. So the following year Robert got to know the girl that would become his wife and the next year he got married too. Berthier had been the first and last man in his life. Robert had always been faithful to his wife. Sometimes he had been attracted by other men mainly when he had stopped being an active athlete and had started to coach young prospective athletes. But he never gave in to his secret desires. Partly that was because he was a married man, partly because as a coach he thought it would be wrong to have a relationship beyond the professional sportiing one with any of the athletes. For this reason he never entertained even close friendship with his boys. He was friends with all of them but of none in particular more than any other.

He had made a good career of it. He had become coach of the national decathlon team. He was admired and respected. He was able to choose the boys with the greatest potential and to make real champions of them. He had a special talent for that. And it had always worked perfectly.

That is to say 'perfectly' until he had found Jean Paul that day in the provincial high school at Poitiers. At first what he had seen was just a prospective champion. But when Jean Paul graduated from high school and went to Paris to work with the team he was so bright, merry, fresh and trustful... Robert had felt a pang in his heart and fell in love. The boy had thus become a nightmare to him. The more he tried to reject his deep desire for Jean Paul the more he was aware he was falling in love with him.

When he went home to his wife Robert felt guilty and that he was letting her down because he realised he wasn't in love with her any more. That had probably begun even before he had met Jean Paul but he hadn't been conscious of it.

Jean Paul was the only one of his young athletes who didn't have a girlfriend and this worried him but strengthened his desire for him too. But Robert felt even more deeply troubled than before.

It was a never ending struggle for him not to treat Jean-Paul better than the others not to pay more attention to him or look after his needs more carefully than he did for the other boys. On the day he had scolded him and treated him more roughly than he would have done with the other boys he knew it was just because he needed to fight against the love he felt for Jean Paul.

Then he had noticed that Jean Paul had started to hang around that pretty girl in the artistic gymnastics team and he felt both disappointment and relief. Disappointment because this meant that the boy was not gay - relief for the same reason.

But Robert was not able to deny to himself that he felt love for Jean Paul. He simply resigned himself not to nourish the absurd hope that one day a sentimental relationship could bloom between them. Because in spite of everything he realised that even though he rationally rejected it in the depths of his heart he wanted that kind of relationship. He hoped for it against hope.

Besides that - he told himself that even if Jean Paul had been gay he would probably prefer a colleague - another boy of his own age - to Robert. Robert was now a middle-aged man; he would soon become an old man and was twenty-seven years older than Jean Paul anyway - that is he was more than double Jean-Paul's age. What would Jean Paul have to do with someone like Robert even if he were gay? Someone as old as him? He had to admit his body was still beautiful and strong and he looked much less than his real age. His hair was still thick and a nice dark brown without any grey showing. Nature had treated him kindly. But Jean Paul would be bound to see him more as a father than a lover...

And anyway the boy wasn't gay. Full stop new line!

After the first week of intensive training was over, Robert planned the second week's schedule for Jean Paul. He didn't want to wear him out but he did want to keep him close to the limit of his strength. He carefully studied his movements, his reflexes and his times. Twice every week he had all his young athletes undergo the usual physiological tests but he was carefully keeping an eye on the values resulting from Jean Paul's tests to calibrate his training and the overload he was imposing on him. He also studied his psychological reactions.

The fact that Jean Paul had started to court that girl seemed to have given him greater psychological strength. That development had come at the right moment, Robert had to admit.

Robert told Alain off and showed him the right way to position his body in the exercises he was doing. Then he made him repeat the exercise several times. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Jean Paul had finished his supplementary training.

"Now Jean Paul, come here with the others it will be your turn in a few minutes." He said aloud, without turning to look at him.

"Oh give me time to breathe; shit! You really want to kill me!"

"Stop whining and come here." Robert said and saw him draw nearer with an easy gait. He was in perfect shape.

That boy really had more resources than appeared on the surface or even that he recognised in himself. He really would make a champion of him - a great champion not merely at European level but at world level.

When Jean Paul walked in front of him without looking at him, Robert quivered with a secret pleasure. He had to admit that it was only half for the thought of making him a great champion. The other half was due to his desire and his love for the boy - a love and a desire that didn't seem to be abating one bit.

He didn't want the boy to become aware of his gradual improvement compared to the others. He wanted to bring him to realise how great the improvement was all of a sudden. And so when Jean Paul reached certain limits in the tests he sent him off to do some special exercises and went on with the rest of the team. But in reality he never took his eyes off his Jean Paul.

Moreover that boy was really beautiful. More or less all good athletes have beautiful bodies as is well known but Jean Paul had a really beautiful face too. He had brown hair with golden highlights and it was wavy and short and made something like a halo around his head. He had dark blond eyebrows that were well separated and shaped into two perfect arches contrasting with his eyes which were an intense bright blue and framed by long beautiful eyelashes. He had a straight nose, quite well-proportioned maybe just a little bit too small, and straight sweet lips that when he was serious had a slight downwards bend but that when he smiled gently arched upwards giving him the smile of an urchin. He had perfect pure white teeth as bright as pearls.

When he saw him naked in the showers he loved his small firm nipples which were dark and slightly oval and the trapezium of curly dark blond hair that decorated his groin and his perfectly developed penis. Robert could not allow himself to look at the boy as he would have liked. He had to content himself with fleeting glances. He would have liked to be the team's masseur so as to be able to put his hands on that body and admire it at his ease.

He vas conscious that his love for men was undoubtedly mostly aesthetic admiration. And he remembered with his Berthier his first and only lover that when they were making love just the fact he could admire Berthier's body and stroke it was a real pleasure.

For almost twenty-five years his desire of men had seemed to be in abeyance, or anyway under control. But now with Jean Paul it had suddenly awakened in earnest. He was still able to control it of course but with difficulty. And he would have liked to be able not to have to control it. Possibly objectively the most handsome of his athletes was Eric but he liked Jean Paul much more. It was probably the boy's face - his look, his smile and his expression that enchanted him and bewitched him.

Well he could certainly not make him his lover or his boyfriend. But maybe he could make him a champion as was his potential. This was his way of expressing the vehemence of the love he was feeling for the boy. Jean Paul might become famous and Robert would be the author of his fame. Robert had discovered him; Robert was moulding him; Robert would launch him and Robert would see to it that he made a name for himself.

During the meal in the athletes mess Robert saw Jean Paul bending with a smile towards Claire to tell her something. By the girl's eyes it had to be something sweet and agreeable. Robert noticed how they were smiling how the two young people had brightened... and he called himself an idiot for it but he couldn't help feeling a pang of jealousy.

In the afternoon he had the boys training on the flat 400 meter course and made Jean Paul do the hurdles circuit too. Then some push-ups and more gymnastics. When he sent the boys back to the locker room, Jean Paul vaulted over the horse as he walked past it. He plainly did that for Robert's benefit to send him the message - look I'm strong - you will not bend me! Robert smiled to himself - yes, the boy showed backbone. He was strong both physically and in his character! And he liked him more and more.

After the showers he gathered all of them as usual in his room. He told them the training schedule for the next few days, and that they would soon be going to the "spring camp" where the national team would prepare for the coming European Championships. At the camp Robert would have the assistance of other training staff as usual so as to give each athlete individual attention in refining his technique. On that occasion Robert intended to make Jean Paul appreciate the level he had reached. Robert would bring him to realise what excellent cloth he was really made of.

The Sports Federation had just restored the old Les Andelys camp on the Seine. The common dorms he remembered from his time were no more. They were replaced by nice double rooms for the athletes and singles for the technical personnel set in the old 18th century building on the river bank. The sports equipment and tracks in the park had been remodelled according to modern standards under the personal supervision of Robert and the best other French coaches..

Robert had been to inspect Les Andelys' camp and was satisfied. A total immersion would do his boys good and would help them to concentrate on preparing themselves for the next European Championships. There at the camp he was certain his athletes would have space to achieve their full potential. And Jean Paul when he realised the results he might achieve would become softer towards him too. He would realise that Robert had been tough on him only for his own good, and would feel grateful to him. Of course gratitude is not love but it's a sentiment filled with warmth anyway... and Robert would have to content himself with that.

He carefully studied his team's files. Roland was making great strides; Charles had reached the limit of his capacity; Robert only needed to keep himself in good shape as long as possible. Michel was another one who could give something more. Robert ought to apply some pressure on him too. Claude was always in perfect shape a worthy son of his father. And for Jean Paul... the records spoke for themselves; he was nearly ready for his great performance!

Robert liked to care for his boys - even though he was pushing them to healthy competition he had been able to build them into a harmonious team. They were proud to be part of the National team but also proud of each others' progress. It was above all a group of close friends.

Perhaps the only one whose character was a bit difficult was Charles. This was also shown by the fact that of all of them he most often changed his girlfriend in spite of his twenty-five years. He was emotionally unstable - not to an alarming degree but definitely a bit volatile. Robert needed to watch him with more care...

He put away the files. He checked the training schedule again and then tidied up the papers on his desk and left his office and locked it. He got into his car and drove back home. ThŽrse and Philippe were playing in the living room. Marie was doing her homework. His wife Franoise and Marc the younger one were out. The three children greeted their Dad with the usual jolliness. Unhappily none of them seemed interested in athletics but Robert didn't worry about that. After all it was fair that each child did what suited him best. Marie seemed attracted by the arts but the others were still too young for a decided preference...

"Daddy, who was Lorenzo Lotto?"

"Wasn't he an Italian painter, Marie?"

"Yes, but of what period and from which part of Italy?"

"I don't remember. Look in the Encyclopaedia, go on!"

"I hoped I could avoid that... if you knew the answer. But of course, as he was not an athlete..." the girl said him with a smile.

She was gently pulling his leg and so Robert smiled too. He sat in an arm-chair and started to read the newspaper. Philippe approached him.

"May I interrupt please, Daddy?"

"Of course my son. What's up?"

"Why girls can play with dolls and not boys?"

"And who says that?" Robert asked with a smile.

"ThŽrse says so, and also Mum."

"Oh... well... possibly because they think that a girl has to prepare herself to bring up children one day and so by playing with the dolls they are practising..."

"But why? Doesn't a man one day have to bring up his children?"

"I really think they do. But, you know how it is; maybe women want to keep their games for themselves..."

"Yes, but ThŽrse always wants to play with my model cars and with my plastic soldiers."

"You have to be kind and let her play with them and with you."

"Yes, I know, but then she has to let me play with her dolls too. Tell her that, Daddy."

"Listen Philippe I will talk about it with Mum then we will decide what to do. You know that in our family all the decisions are taken together don't you? We are a team. We always have to act in harmony if we want to be a good team."

"I agree Daddy." Philippe answered seriously and went back to play on the carpet with his Lego.

Yes he really had a beautiful family and one he could be proud of. A beautiful family, a beautiful house... a beautiful job, a beautiful life... all perfect... if Jean Paul hadn't crossed his path. He desired that boy with such an intensity that it was almost painful. He desired his beautiful body but above all his love... No he really was not able to keep him out of his thoughts.

That first distant experience with his Berthier should have made him realise what his real sexual orientation was even then. He had deceived himself into thinking it was just something that happened a long time ago, a momentary aberration in his youth but he was now discovering that that was his true nature. He was gay beyond any doubt...

But he could not now put right a mistake by making a new mistake. He had to control himself... he had absolutely to control himself for everyone's good.

He stood up and went to his study. He looked amongst his old photographs and found those with him and his Berthier... Yes he had loved him; he had loved him wholeheartedly. And he had suffered when his friend told him - it was beautiful but we are grown-up now; we have to fall back into line; we have to be "normal" people...

But what's normal? What is fixed by a norm? But who decides the norm... and by what right?

He recalled the athlete that had been caught in the toilets with the equipment maintenance boy... At that time he had been a new and inexperienced coach. He had tried to defend his athlete by telling the judges that it would be absurd to cut short a promising career just because of that episode... But all his efforts had been useless. Robert had suffered for that. The only thing he achieved was that a scandal had been avoided. But on the medical record of that young athlete had been written plainly- "invited to resign because caught in sodomy" and the record was preserved in the Federation's archives ...

What has the private life of an athlete to do with his sporting activities? Who were they to judge the private life of another human being? What the two boys were doing together (both of age, both consenting) was not even punishable under the civil or penal law. By what right could an unwritten sports law take precedence over the civil or penal law?

Robert shook his head and put away his photographs of Berthier. His Berthier who was now so completely integrated into straight society... They had remained good friends but they had never again even hinted of their ancient love for each other... Who knows whether Berthier in the bottom of his heart still had the same passion too?

He heard his wife coming back home and went to meet her. Beautiful, elegant and luminous as usual. Happy to manage her women's clothing boutique with beautiful fashion and famous brands. Franoise had always been a natural manager. She had built an efficient harmonious team in her boutique too, and she did very good business.

"Darling forgive me for being late! But supper is practically ready it only needs to be warmed..."

"Don't worry. Is everything good at your shop?"

"Oh yes absolutely. Josiane is an efficient collaborator; she carries on the boutique business almost by herself, as you know. If everything goes smoothly we will soon have two more exclusives of two Italian stylists. And your boys? All is going well? You are soon going to your springtime training camp, aren't you?"

"Yes it's almost all ready. The boys are in a splendid shape. If everything goes as I hope this year France will get a gold medal and almost certainly a bronze one too."

"Who, Jean Paul and Claude?"

"Right. You have seen them haven't you? They are two real champions."

"Yes and with a really good coach." Franoise answered putting on her kitchen apron and starting to bustle with pans and stove.

Franoise didn't ever have a cook. They just had their old maid for the heavy work who helped for eight hours each day but Franoise had always looked after their children herself and had done the cooking.

"Do you need a hand?" Robert asked her as usual.

And she answered as usual, "No darling. Sit there and keep me company."

It had become almost a rite that none of them ever missed after years of life together. It was a reassuring rite almost as if to tell each other - it's good being here with you and everything is fine.

Yes Robert was getting along well with Franoise... and yet he was terribly in love with his beautiful athlete, with his Jean Paul; he couldn't help it. All his inner life had been turned upside down by Jean Paul's appearance even if from outside it looked as if nothing had changed.

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 3

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