Please please please please please please please don't read this if you're easily offended, have just eaten, or are giving up lustful thoughts for Lent

This is my first attempt at a certain kind of very popular fiction. It is rated NC-17. Piccie stolen from aftonbladet.se

28/03/07
Belfast

Henrik Larsson entered the lobby, looked around and grinned. It was just like old times, except that when he was in his Sweden heyday, many of the boys in the lobby had been in short trousers. He'd been invited to the match with Northern Ireland as a VIP, and would see the game from a corporate box. He felt a twinge of sadness at this. He'd much rather have seen the game from the bench, but still, it was nice to know that his service to his country was appreciated, and that he had been rewarded with such perks.

He was, at least, staying in the same hotel as the team, and counted a number of the older boys as frirends. Henrik exchanged a cordial wave with Zlatan, and was then forced to walk past Olof, who simply smirked. Henrik grimaced. Olof, as a Premiership player, was overjoyed that Henrik had curtailed his contract with Man United. Henrik knew that United were held in contempt by most Premiership players and fans - a grudging respect the most adulation that United could expect on their travels. He knew that there were good reasons for this, but still. The days of United getting penalties in every home game, and being cossetted by the FA, were before his time, and it wasn't very kind of Olof to assume Henrik was partly responsible for their misdemeanours.

"You got out." Olof grinned at Henrik as Freddie, wearing a similar smug expression, sauntered up behind him. Freddie, as an Arsenal veteran, hated Manchester United much more than Olof did, and was never going to sympathise with Henrik. "Have you rejoined the light side of the Force now, Henrik?", Freddie asked, those blue eyes dancing as he taunted his friend. Henrik poked his famous tongue out in reply. These three guys respected each other, and a brief stint at the "Dark Side" wasn't going to change that. Freddie and Olof smirked in unison, then wandered away together.

Henrik briefly furrowed his brow, before setting his mind straight and determinedly walking to reception for his room key. He knew what was going on with Freddie and Olof, and he knew what a testosterone-fuelled environment could do to a guy. He never spent long in rumination on what Olof's eyes could do to him, and how irrational shivers sometimes ran down Henrik's spine at the sight of him.

After the game that night, most players turned in, knowing what could happen to guys who brok curfew. Henrik, no longer bound by such restrictions, still made his way towards his room - the corporate hospitality wine had gone to his head a little. He'd enjoyed spending the day with the guys, some of whom had told him he should have stayed at United to try and seal the title, others glad he had returned to grace Swedish football. A pleasant day was almost over as Henrik approached his door.

"You're still dirty." Henrik turned to see a shaggy head poking out of a room nearby. He sighed.

"Still not over it, Olof? I went to United. I did well. I came back. Veni, vidi, vici."

"No. You came, you saw, you got dirty." Olof pushed the door open wider and beckoned Henrik forward. "Freddie and I both think you should get clean again. Don't we?"

Another smiling face appeared. "Yeah. Did you ever play that British game 'Theme Hospital'?" Freddie laughed at his own joke. "If it was real, we'd have to stick you in the Decontamination Shower."

Henrik giggled. "I don't know what you're on about." He walked towards them. He'd missed pitchside humour. He was not prepared for what happened next.

Freddie pulled Henrik into he and Olof's shared room. "We have to clean you", he explained. Two hands seized Henrik's shoulders. They belonged to Olof, who proceeded to remove Henrik's jacket.

"Hey, guys", Henrik protested. "What are you..."

Olof pressed a finger to Henrik's lips. "We're going to clean you and we think you'll enjoy it." Henrik suddenly found himself thorougly short of objections. He thought it might have had something to do with Olof touching his skin. He sighed as Freddie unbuttoned his shirt. He'd always craved a bit of what he heard went on behind closed doors, despite his professional act, and it looked as if he was about to get it.

Freddie and Olof undressed Henrik with the speed and grace of years' experience, and pulled him into the bathroom. They planned this, Henrik thought, as he realised a warm bath was waiting. His friends pushed him into the bath and Henrik sighed as the water soothed his body. His flesh tingled with anticipation at the thought of what was to come.

Olof didn't disappoint. He sponged Henrik's chest down with the dexterity of an expert, and the hunger he showed on the pitch. Henrik gasped as Olof ran the sponge over his stomach muscles, spasms following the delightful wet touches. Freddie had found a flannel and was working it over Henrik's thighs. Henrik was beginning to feel hot all over. He couldn't think about where this was going to lead. He knew it could push him over the edge. Olof pushed Henrik's head forward and began to soap his back. Henrik moaned at the feeling of the sponge on his back and Olof's hand resting on his shoulder. He finally admitted to himself that he'd been in need of some TLC like this for years.

Freddie had worked his way all the way down to Henrik's toes and back up again. He discarded his flannel and reached for Henrik's balls. Henrik's breath caught in his throat at the sensation of Freddie's hand, plus the warm water. "Freddie", he groaned as the two men's eyes met Freddie laughed and bent towards Henrik's hardness. The next sensation was absolute, pure joy. Henrik threw back his head at the feeling of Freddie's soft mouth and lips and tongue. He shuddered and cried out as Freddie's tongue worked him over, and his teeth bit the tip of his arousal. Olof was kneading his shoulders, adding to the plethora of sensations Henrik was experiencing. When Olof began to lick his neck, he came hard with a loud, feral cry. Freddie was obviously used to such occasions and took Henri's penis in his hand, holding him gently as he recovered. Olof pulled Henrik's shoulders back to rest upon the bath, then kissed him on the cheek, stroking his face. Henrik stared into Olof's eyes for one last blissful moment, then closed his eyes. "Guys", he murmured. "What for?"

Freddie laughed. "We couldn't do that to you while you were in Man U. But we've wanted to forever. You are so hot."

"We just wanted to get you clean", Olof murmured into his ear, "so we could have our wicked way with you. Is that OK?" Henrik nodded.

"And we're looking forward to finding out what that tongue can do", Freddie added suggestively. "Give him a chance to recover, Freddie", Olof said sternly.

Feeling suddenly wide awake, Henrik grinned, pulling Olof close for a kiss. "That. And better", he whispered. "Same time tomorrow?"

* THE END *

God bless, Jenni xx