A Change of Perspective Ch. 04

Story Info
Real life doesn't play nice.
2.9k words
4.67
12.6k
6

Part 4 of the 6 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 10/08/2013
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
VCHeysham
VCHeysham
45 Followers

August 2009

James

Once the Vuelta starts, our emailing dries up to once a day, usually in the brief gap between Simon eating and falling asleep. I'm wary of interrupting his focus, so rather than bug him for details I mostly just follow the race on the radio. I pick up an English-speaking channel online and soon I'm learning some of the language - peleton, domestique, GC - even if I don't fully understand the tactics.

That said, I do understand the results page I look up every evening. To my surprise, by the end of stage 9 Simon's in the lead and expected to stay there. From what the commentators have said, he's not so hot at time trials but he's very good in the mountains - and there are several more mountain stages to come.

As the race progresses his lead looks more and more comfortable, which perversely makes following it more and more tense. I'd had no expectations of him doing so well - mainly because he didn't give any impression of having any expectations himself. But now he's leading, I want him to stay there.

I come to understand that the final result will hinge on the penultimate stage - a time trial, which his closest rival is expected to win comfortably. I left the bar and Slovenia a few days ago to make my way west through Italy and France. By the time Simon's due to race I'm on the final train into Madrid, earbuds firmly in place.

// And last to leave the start gate, currently in first place overall, is Vermeulen, riding for the British Virgin team. No British team has ever done this well at the Vuelta.

At any Grand Tour in fact, Chris.

That's right, and what an achievement this is for the young Londoner. Just to recap, if he can finish within 3 minutes and 10 seconds of Valdez, he'll keep the red jersey and stand on top of the podium tomorrow. But it's by no means certain - the Spanish rider has set off at a blistering pace and is already 25 seconds up at the first time check. Vermeulen's at the gate now, waiting for his signal... and he's off.

A very nice start there, Chris. Vermeulen isn't the fastest time trialist, but he's no slouch.

No, Phil, absolutely not. And he'll have been working on this in training - he knows it's his weak spot.

This is a short fast course today, only 17 kilometres, so he's every chance of hanging onto that 3-minute lead over Valdez.

Here we come into the first time check... 4 minutes 12. That puts the Belgian - //

"Sir? Excuse me, sir? El billete, por favor. Your ticket please."

Fuck. I fumble for my tickets, knocking my phone and pulling my earbuds out in the process. The inspector takes an agonisingly long time checking every detail before he finally smiles and moves on, and I'm free to disappear back into the commentary.

// - that's Valdez over the line, setting a very quick time of 15:21 to take provisional first place.

And you'd have to say that Valdez has won the stage - there's no way Vermeulen will beat that time. But has he done enough -

Oh! Sorry Phil - something's happened... Vermeulen's stopped! He's... oh dear, he's not stopped, he's crashed. Here's the replay - yes, he took that corner far too tight, and he's just clipped the barrier. Well, that's a rare display of temper from the young star there as he waits for the team car and a replacement bike, and who can blame him?

Not me, Chris. Now then, he's back up - can he hang onto that margin? He doesn't have to beat Valdez' time, remember, just finish within 3 minutes 10 seconds.

And don't forget the time bonus, Phil. Valdez will pick up 20 seconds for winning today, and that could be critical.

Vermeulen's coming into the final kilometre now - he looks to be in a lot of pain. He hit that barrier very hard.

And the final time on the clock... 18:34. That puts him down in 64th place. He'll be bitterly disappointed with that result.

That's a real shame - by my reckoning he's lost the red jersey by just 23 seconds. But the spectators have gone crazy - a Spaniard winning the Vuelta a Espana by such a tiny margin... you can't blame them.

So Vermeulen will finish the Vuelta in second place - let's not forget that that's a fantastic result for him and for the British team. And a lot of promise for the future, too - you have to say that if he'd not caught that barrier he'd have been on the top step tomorrow.

Well Chris, that's what makes cycling so exciting - //

This time I pull the earbuds out deliberately, not wanting to hear the post-mortem. I'm relieved that Simon's okay, but I'm gutted for him having lost the win so close to the end of the race. Disappointment bites at me, and it must be infinitely worse for Simon. My guess is that he'll be philosophical in public, but I'm sure that privately he can't be. I wonder if he'll show me how he's really feeling.

By the time my train pulls into Madrid several hours later I'm a lot happier. I can't help it - I'm too excited at the thought of seeing Simon tomorrow night. Skype and email is all very well, but it doesn't replace being able to just be next to somebody. And I want to be next to Simon so badly it hurts.

~~x~~

September 2009

Simon

So, second place in the Vuelta. It's not that bad, it's a podium finish - it's better than fourth. But the disappointment sits like lead in my stomach, souring everything. This would have been the biggest win of my career so far - perhaps the biggest win I'll ever have, and I fucked it up. It wasn't a mechanical, it wasn't a puddle or oil on the road - it was me losing my focus. I knew the line I needed to take on that corner and I'd done it perfectly in practice, but when the moment came I second-guessed myself. I suppose at least there's no-one else to blame. That helps, a fraction.

"Cheer up misery-guts - have you forgotten that you're seeing James tonight? I wish there was someone waiting for me... I wonder if any of the podium girls would fancy a tumble." Gil sighs theatrically, light-hearted as usual, refusing to take anything seriously. Of course, he'll never win a GC, so he'll never lose one by 23 seconds either.

If I'm honest, I'm not sure now how I feel about James being in Madrid. Three weeks ago it seemed like a good idea - but three weeks ago I hadn't spent twelve days thinking I might actually win the damn race. All I really want to do is go home and shut the world out until I feel better.

"Si? Earth to Si? Paging Britain's highest ever Grand Tour finisher."

His flattery forces a smile. "I'm feeling sorry for myself. I'm not sure I'll be much fun tonight."

"Don't say that!" It's Matteo, drifting over to join us as we pedal sedately to the finish line. "Gil's organised a party. You've got to be there - you know what Gil's parties are like."

I certainly do. I think about James, introducing him to everyone, telling everyone who I am. "Can I see how I feel later?"

Matteo shrugs, casual at 25mph. "Sure, whatever. We'll miss you, but..." He grins. "You always ride your own race, Si. It's cool."

He disappears, moving off to chat with another rider. This final stage is more of a farewell party than a stage - although we all race all year, I won't see some of these guys again until the next Vuelta, and maybe not even then. Cyclists tend to be superstitious about making plans too far in advance - there are too many opportunities for things to go wrong. I suppose I should be grateful that I didn't do any real damage yesterday - a broken collarbone could have kept me off the bike for weeks.

Gil interrupts my gloom, again. "Come on Si, cheer up. Bring James to the party, get drunk, take him back to your room and fuck him stupid. That's what I'd do."

"I know that Gil, but I'm not you, remember? And I'm not sure that I want to out myself in front of everyone at one of your parties. Maybe I'll just take him back to my room instead." I blush at the thought.

Gil grins wickedly. "Hey, d'you think Branson knows there's an actual virgin on his team? Should I tell him?"

"Sod off." I'm laughing now - as usual he's managed to cheer me up.

Another rider appears, slapping me on the shoulder. "Bad luck yesterday, Si. Shit happens, eh?"

I turn to accept his commiserations, and the peleton rolls on.

~

The official end of the race passes in a blur, and largely on auto-pilot. If I look it up online I know I'll see that I smiled when I stepped up onto the podium, and I did my fair share of champagne-showering. There are urine tests and blood tests and television interviews and radio interviews - and somewhere along the way it sinks in that I'm being heralded as a British hero. I'm not British, and I fell off, but apparently that's still good enough.

Finally I'm free, in my room and alone with James at last. Despite the daily email contact, actually seeing him is odd. His eyes are browner than I remember, and his hair's shorter. I stare at him, drinking in the sight of him next to me, hoping he wants to be here as much as I want him to be.

He kisses me gently, a promise of more to come. "I've missed you, baby. I wish I could have been with you yesterday."

I grimace. "It's probably just as well you weren't... I'd have been horrible company."

"Doesn't matter, I still wish I'd been there. I'm so proud of you, you know."

The disappointment's still too raw, making me ungrateful and rude. "Jesus, what is it with everyone congratulating me?"

"You could have won. You came so close - that's what people are celebrating."

"I didn't win though, did I? I crashed and I lost."

James is patient with me. "But you got back on again, and you didn't give up. I saw the pictures last night - if I stacked it like that I'd lie there bawling, not get up and practically bust a lung trying to make up the time. You're amazing."

"I don't feel it right now." I calm down a little, thinking about James on a bike. "Would you bawl, really? A tough guy like you?"

"Oh yeah." He's grinning, deliberately distracting me. "I'm soft." He shifts position slightly. "Well, except for when I'm hard."

The look on his face makes my stomach knot. "And when are you hard, o soft one?"

His voice drops. "Right now, baby. So hard... d'you want to see?"

I swallow, nodding - now I'm hard too. James leans forward, his hand on my arm... and there's a knock at the door.

"Fuck. Talk about timing - give me a sec." He nods and I stand up, hoping my erection isn't showing.

Unsurprisingly, it's Gil at the door. "You ready? We're heading off."

"I can't. James is here."

"So bring him along with you. He's a nice guy, he'll fit in. You've hung on this long, deflowering you can wait another couple of hours, can't it?"

My cheeks flame and I pull the door to behind me. "Leave it, Gil. I meant it when I said I'm not outing myself to everyone tonight. Not on top of everything else."

"It would stop them commiserating with you?" He sounds hopeful, but the more he tries to persuade me, the more I dig my heels in.

"No, leave me be. I'll see you tomorrow."

"It'll be easier than you think, I promise."

"Go away, Gil."

Annoyance flashes across his face, but he merely shrugs. "Okay, suit yourself." He wanders off down the corridor and I want to call him back, to ask him if I'm making a mistake, but instead I turn back to my room.

James has moved from the bed to stand by the window, staring out across the car park. Suddenly worried, I touch his shoulder. "James?"

He doesn't turn around. "I heard."

"Heard what?" He knows I'm a virgin. Surely he didn't mind Gil teasing me about it?

"You can't - won't - be seen with me. What's the matter - do I embarrass you? Are you ashamed?" His voice is quiet, obviously upset. I back away in confusion, sitting down automatically when my legs hit the bed behind me.

"No! I just thought... I thought we could spend some time together, alone. I thought you wanted that?"

He sighs and sits down in the chair opposite me. "I did. I do. But not because you're hiding, Si. If you won't..." He waves his arms in frustration. "What possible future have we got?"

"Don't be like that. You don't understand - cycling is a small community, and -"

"Oh cut the crap." His laidback demeanour has evaporated. "I grew up in a town smaller than your peleton, I know all about small communities. You just have to grow a pair and stand up for yourself - it's not like anyone gives a shit any more." His eyes narrow. "You said you were going to tell your dad about me. You didn't, did you?"

My wretched silence is answer enough in itself. "I meant to... it wasn't the right time. I will, I promise."

He looks away. "Sure you will."

I stare at him, feeling sick as our night together unravels in front of me. "James, please! Let's spend this evening here, just the two of us, and we'll go public next time. I promise."

He stands up, rubbing a hand across his face. "You say that, and then you'll back out... I'm too old for this, Simon. I'm too old and too cynical to fall for someone who's only going to screw me over. I did it once... I can't do it to myself again. I'm sorry."

"James!" I can't think of anything else to say.

He paces for a moment, then to my surprise kneels down in front of me. He looks up at me, pleading. "I like you, Simon. I didn't expect you to be more than a quick fuck in the men's, but you're worth more than that. I want us to be more than that. I want there to be an us. But I need you to stand up for yourself... I don't want to hide how I feel."

"Neither do I." It's a whisper.

"Then take me to the party with you. Or even just to the bar downstairs. You don't have to hold up a sign - holding my hand would be enough."

The panic squirrels around in my brain, and I can't make myself do or say anything.

Finally James stands up. "I guess I'm not worth that much to you, huh?" His sounds sad, all the earlier anger gone, and that makes me feel even worse. He picks up his coat. "Our afternoon together was fun, wasn't it? I'll remember that." He opens the door. I can't look at him. "Take care, Si."

~

I don't move for a long time. At some point I hear people coming back from the party but it all sounds distant, as if I'm at the end of a very long tunnel. Later I suppose I must have gone to sleep, as I wake up fully dressed on top of the bed covers. Later still my phone beeps, telling me I've got a text.

Some time after that someone bangs on my door, and when I don't answer it, I hear a shout. "Si! Rise and shine, sleepy-head."

Knowing I won't get any peace until I do, I make myself move. Gil's grinning from ear to ear. "Well... how'd it go? Are you now wise in the ways of the world?" He tries to lean around me, so I open the door wide to let him into the room. "Where is he? In the shower?"

"He's gone."

Gil frowns. "What do you mean, he's gone? You didn't throw him out without breakfast, did you?"

"No... he left last night, after you'd gone to the party. We had a row and he walked out. He said..." I take a deep breath, hearing my voice shake. "He said that he didn't want to be with someone who was ashamed of him."

"Oh Simon. Mate. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not ashamed of him, Gil, I'm ashamed of me. I'm a fuck-up. I fucked up my Vuelta, and now I've fucked up whatever it might have been with James."

Gil paces agitatedly. "Si, it's not too late. You've got his number - call him. If he means that much to you, say whatever you need to say to get him to stay. I'll talk to him if you think it would help. Come on, where's your phone?"

I don't move. "It is too late. I told you, he's gone. Back to Canada."

He stares at me. "Canada?"

I nod, still numb from the news. "He texted me an hour ago from the plane. I've lost him, Gil."

For the first time since my parents told us mum's cancer was terminal, I start to cry.

VCHeysham
VCHeysham
45 Followers
Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
6 Comments
TimothyMTimothyMalmost 10 years ago
talk about bad timing

I'm actually angry with Gil. If he hadn't come by and put pressure on Simon, James would have stayed the night. And I bet Simon would have felt differently about coming out, once they'd made love and admitted how they were feeling.

However, I also think James (and Gil) were being unfair. Yes Simon may have been OK if he came out to his team mates. But I still think he would be putting his cycle career in jeopardy, if he came out in public. Remember: no gay pro cyclists so far - and even in other sports they've only just started coming out (and mostly after they've left football or whatever). So it's a bit much for James to demand this so early in their relationship.

Mba7Mba7over 10 years ago

The angst! I love it and can't wait to read more. Great original story.

AkshunLoveAkshunLoveover 10 years ago
I really like this story

First of all... I don't really like sports, not really, but I loved the commentary on the race :) I thought it was very endearing, especially James's fumbling for the tickets. Actually, everything about this story is endearing. I feel like I know these boys (and by proxy, the writer too) and I like how real it feels. The characters are genuine and in their narrative, they are being genuine with the reader, which provokes emotional investment in the outcome—something every writer strives for. Keep up the good work :)

canndcanndover 10 years ago

I hope that you'll give us some background on James' past that he hints at. I would think that is why he didn't even wait till the next day to run...probably so he didn't change his mind and go to Si. I hope Si goes to him, but I bet there will be interviews and endorsements. Hope he doesn't wait too long.

canndcanndover 10 years ago
That sucks...

Did James run b/c he was hurt or did he run so he didn't try again to be with Si? Great cliffhanger, but sad turn. Looking forward to more.

Show More
Share this Story

Similar Stories

Needing You Cason helps subs find what they need, but he has needs too.in Gay Male
A Change of Heart for Leander The friends go to a gay club.in Gay Male
"C" Club Ch. 01 Summer school turns from boring to cock-tastic!in Gay Male
A Bet's A Bet Kyle bets Nick that he can turn him gay in two weeks.in Gay Male
A Bear Cub Takes My Virginity My first time; a 25 year old bear cub fucks me. in Gay Male
More Stories