He cried. Tears were flowing down his skin. He couldn't stop it. Why had he said these mean things. Why he had wanted to hurt his best friend?

It happened weeks ago, but still Christian Vieri couldn't stop thinking about the arguing.

Somebody had told him about a special meeting between his ex-girlfriend Elisabetta Canalis and his best friend Filippo Inzaghi.

He had said very mean things to Filippo, words he never used before. He had wanted to hurt him, cut Filippo's heart of as he did it to Christian.

But why that reaction? Elisabetta doesn't matter. She was a little bi*** without an interesting character. She wasn't even good looking. She hadn't been the reason for these words.

"Come on, we have to play against Wales." Alessandro Nesta smiled, only with his lips, his eyes were red, he had cried.

"Is everybody gloomy?" Christian asked.

"No, except Filippo. He....seems to...."

"Yeah?!"

"Well, I don't know. I think he cried a lot in the last days. Somebody has hurt him, in my opinion."

"And you? What's wrong with you?"

"I'm missing two friends, that's all." Alessandro Nesta looked to the ground, he didn't want to tell Christian about his feelings, but Christian insisted.

"You are telling me lies!"

"No!" Tears started flowing again. At that moment Alessandro del Piero started shouting at Filippo Inzaghi.

"You ********************************************** go out of my way. You haven't scored for Italy the last two years. Trappatoni just took you 'cause Totti is injured and your friend Vieri wanted you here....!" Nesta shook his head.

"Why he shouts at Filippo? Filippo is nearly collapsing....!" Filippo took a deep breath and look around. He felt something in his chest becoming cold when he looked at Christian.

"We have to play against Wales now. This match is very important, we could qualify for the Euro 2004. I know what most of you think of me and I don't want to argue now whether I'm an egoist or something else. I only want to win this match for Italy and not your hearts...!" Alessandro Nesta nodded.

"I'd like to help you, but I'm not a striker. Christian will help you, I'm sure." Filippo tried to smile and whispered to Nesta:

"I'm not...but it's a good feeling to have one friend left. Thanks."

When they walked onto the pitch Nesta tried to find Paolo Maldini in the crowd, but soon he gave it up. It was impossible.

Filippo was nervous, he loved being in the national team and this was his first match since a long time. This was San Siro, his stadium, his strike-partner was Christian Vieri, called Bobo. They had been friends.

'I've been a total idiot. I wanted to ask Elisabetta everything about him. I've never been interested in her, but he misunderstood everything. He hates me.....what he said...!'

Christian thoughts were about the same and when the match started. Only the midfielders and the goalkeeper were really concentrated.

45 minutes, not bad not really good, average. During the break Christian followed Filippo with his eyes. He seemed really sad.

Second half had just stated. 14 minutes were played. Christian tried to shoot, but the ball hit the post and so Filippo kicked it in. Shouting and desiring Christian he ran straight towards his friend and pulled him down to the ground. All other players came and jumped onto them. Filippo didn't feel it. All he felt were Christian's warm hands touching him. He wanted these seconds to least forever. Lips so close to his. Christians long hair touching softly his cheek.

Of course they had to stand up, but when they went to their usual positions Filippo pulled Christian's head down to him. They didn't need words to express their feelings when Christian's lips touched his neck, wanting more.

After three minutes Oddo passed the ball to Filippo and he netted again. Filippo jumped up and waved to the fans, but then he ran to Christian who lifted him up.

Filippo had never felt so many different things in one moment. The impressions came as a huge wave and made him forget everything around him. Christians hand's on his bottom, warm, stroking, his legs around Christian, something in his trousers becoming harder. Christian felt that too and when he put Filippo back on the ground he whispered in Filippo's ear : "I love you!"

Filippo smiled and took Christian's hand.

In the 70th minute Filippo scored his third goal in this match. He nearly flew around Christian's neck, desiring more touches.

But after four minutes Filippo had to leave the pitch and sat down on the bench while Christian stayed. The rest of the match wasn't followed by Filippo. He was dreaming with his eyes open. Dreaming of Christian, lips and hands. Filippo didn't see del Piero's penalty, the other players or Trappatoni.

Then when the game was over he waited for Christian and they went together to the changing room.

At least they were alone in Christian's flat. Filippo was nervous again, but it was different. Before the match he had gone crazy. Now it was a bit like at Christmas, waiting for something beautiful, but without knowing what that was.

Christian went to the fridge and took a bottle of Champagne out of it.

'Where to stand? What to do?' Filippo looked around, frightened.

"Come with me!" Christian told him and went to the bedroom. Should he follow? Did he want it? His feet moved without asking his brain.

Filippo had been in every room of this flat a thousand times, but now all seemed new and a bit dangerous to him.

It took him about a minute to enter the bedroom. Everything looked as usual. The broad bed with the dark blue cushions and the blanket, the table out of glass where Christian had put the bottle.

"Why are you so shy?" Christian asked and forced Filippo to sit down on the bed.

What should he answer 'I don't know!' ?

"I...I'm a bit frightened." Filippo looked on the ground.

"Pippo, if ...if you don't want to... just tell me. I don't want to force you!" Christian smiled. Filippo shook his head and started kissing Christian's hands, so Christian couldn't see the tears that were coming into his eyes without any reason.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" These words made him really cry and the words came uncontrolled out of his mouth.

"Why did you say all that to me? I thought you hated me...I only wanted to know more about...I nearly died, but you seemed so...so untouchable...!" Christian closed his eyes, he didn't know how to react.

"Pippo, look, I thought ... you loved Elisabetta. I didn't want to say all these things. It was only 'cause I was hurt and I wanted to hurt you. I never really meant what I said."

"Bobo, I never loved Elisabetta!!! I desired you for all those years, but you seemed to think of me only as your friend....not the way I always thought of you!" Filippo cuddled up to Christian, waiting for his decision. By saying nothing Christian started to open Filippo's shirt. Filippos hands where shaking when he opened Christian's trousers.

It had been the most beautiful night of his life. Christian had touched him softly. Warm kisses and other things he had never thought of. They drank the Champagne out of the bottle. Now their bodies were wet. Semen, sweat and champagne. Christian hold Filippo in his arm, whispering sweet names.

"Want will the others say?" Filippo asked.

"Oh, I don't care Pippo. As long as I got you everything is unimportant for me."

"You know what we're risking?" Filippo smiled, but he didn't stop.

"No, but I know what you're risking!"

"Pardon?"

"Well...!" Christian started kissing him. His lips went over Filippo's chest.

"Bobo, not yet.....oh.....don't....!" Christian stopped.

"Don't..?!" Filippo pulled his head down.

"Don't stop. Do everything but don't stop!"

At 12 o'clock they went to the beach. Hand in hand. People looked at them but they ignored it. Nothing mattered for them.

"Over here you two!!" Alessandro Nesta lay next to Franceso Totti on a big blue towel.

"What are YOU doing here?" Filippo asked and raised his eyebrow.

"We did the same as you! Look at your neck. Bobo what have you done to him?" Franceso laughed. Filippo's face turned red, but Nesta smiled.

"Hey, cool down. We haven't got a problem with that. We...well, are together, too!"

Neither Christian nor Filippo had ever been surprised like that.

"You see, it doesn't matter what other people think, as long as we got each other!" Christian whispered and kissed Filippo.

The end