Prompt: Betrayal, Character: Pavel Nedvěd
Title: Watched
Fandom: Football RPS.
Pairings: Vladimír Šmicer/Pavel Nedvěd. Also, mentions of Pavel Nedvěd/Zdeněk Grygera. Written from Vladimír's point of view.
Rating: PG-13 at most
Disclaimer: This is fiction and happened only in my head. I don't mean any disrespect towards anyone featured. I just made this up, for my own twisted enjoyment.
Prompt: "Betrayal".
Word count: 400.
Vladimír closed the zipper of his training bag with a determined motion, slightly annoyed at the fact that he was apparently the last person to leave. He was not used to being this slow, and slightly uncomfortable with having to shut the doors and turn off the lights for the day. Even though he was fully aware of being alone, he glanced around the room once more before he made his way towards the door.
The low, clicking noise startled him. A lock? Or just the wind playing tricks in an old, wooden building?
"Hello?" he called as he took a step back. It felt foolish, as long as he had just checked that there were nobody else anywhere near him. Still, the small distraction made him curious and caused him to go back and take another look around.
Unsurprisingly, the dressing room was still empty, and only the lockers creaked slightly as he passed. He gave an annoyed sigh as he pushed the nearest one shut in order to reproduce the creaking noise. It was much different, louder than the one he had heard earlier.
He shrugged and placed his hand on the door handle next to him. The door led to another part of the dressing room, but it was probably locked as long as they had not been using that part of the room at all. However, the handle gave way silently under his touch, and he peered into the dim light.
It took a moment to take the sight in. He wanted to shout or scream, but only his lips formed the words while his voice was stuck in his throat.
No! No, it couldn't be!
He shut the door again; perhaps too hardly, but he didn't care. They wouldn't notice; wouldn't hear the noise through the haze they were in at that moment. The picture seemed stuck in front of his eyes, despite the fact that he had not been consciously looking. Even the details were clear in his memory - the dreamy look on Zdeněk's face as his hand entwined in Pavel's hair and especially the way Pavel had seemed completely relaxed in that embrace; safe, comfortable and giving as he carefully traced the younger man's lips with his tongue.
It wasn't a real kiss, Vladimír tried to convince himself. Not like those they used to share a long time ago.
Fandom: Football RPS.
Pairings: Vladimír Šmicer/Pavel Nedvěd. Also, mentions of Pavel Nedvěd/Zdeněk Grygera. Written from Vladimír's point of view.
Rating: PG-13 at most
Disclaimer: This is fiction and happened only in my head. I don't mean any disrespect towards anyone featured. I just made this up, for my own twisted enjoyment.
Prompt: "Betrayal".
Word count: 400.
Vladimír closed the zipper of his training bag with a determined motion, slightly annoyed at the fact that he was apparently the last person to leave. He was not used to being this slow, and slightly uncomfortable with having to shut the doors and turn off the lights for the day. Even though he was fully aware of being alone, he glanced around the room once more before he made his way towards the door.
The low, clicking noise startled him. A lock? Or just the wind playing tricks in an old, wooden building?
"Hello?" he called as he took a step back. It felt foolish, as long as he had just checked that there were nobody else anywhere near him. Still, the small distraction made him curious and caused him to go back and take another look around.
Unsurprisingly, the dressing room was still empty, and only the lockers creaked slightly as he passed. He gave an annoyed sigh as he pushed the nearest one shut in order to reproduce the creaking noise. It was much different, louder than the one he had heard earlier.
He shrugged and placed his hand on the door handle next to him. The door led to another part of the dressing room, but it was probably locked as long as they had not been using that part of the room at all. However, the handle gave way silently under his touch, and he peered into the dim light.
It took a moment to take the sight in. He wanted to shout or scream, but only his lips formed the words while his voice was stuck in his throat.
No! No, it couldn't be!
He shut the door again; perhaps too hardly, but he didn't care. They wouldn't notice; wouldn't hear the noise through the haze they were in at that moment. The picture seemed stuck in front of his eyes, despite the fact that he had not been consciously looking. Even the details were clear in his memory - the dreamy look on Zdeněk's face as his hand entwined in Pavel's hair and especially the way Pavel had seemed completely relaxed in that embrace; safe, comfortable and giving as he carefully traced the younger man's lips with his tongue.
It wasn't a real kiss, Vladimír tried to convince himself. Not like those they used to share a long time ago.