Prompt: Present; Claim: Seb Larsson
Title: Explosions
Fandom: Football
Pairing: Sebastian Larsson / Johan Djourou
Rating: PG
Prompt: Present
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not mine, not real, all horribly fake.
Word count: 521
Summary: Based on and around this goal by Sebastian against Spurs last season.
Despite the fact that he tries to focus on what he’s doing he’s painfully aware of the clock ticking away next to the pitch. He knows that they’re running out of time, and even though 2-2 against Tottenham at White Hart Lane isn’t bad, he knows they can win it. He must think they can win it, otherwise he has nothing to do on the pitch.
And, he has to admit, deep down inside his heart is still slightly more red than blue (he can’t help it, a boy at the age of 16 is easily influenced and Seb was no exception when he ended up at Arsenal), and a goal against Spurs would mean everything.
He holds back when he sees Kapo running up the side, letting Forssell run deep while he falls back, feeling his heart race as he sees the Finn take a shot, and he shouts out his frustration along with the travelling fans as the ball hits the crossbar. He doesn’t have time to think after that though, the ball ending up right at his feet.
Instead of going forwards the pulls back, his eyes scanning the field as he tries to pick out a fellow team mate to pass. He drifts infield, feeling Berbatov against his back and when he feels the other man pushing forward the thinks, for a moment, that he’s lost possession. He sticks his foot out, and he feels himself connect with the ball, flicking it back and he turns on nothing, seeing Berbatov continue straight ahead in the corner of his eye.
He doesn’t think, then. He can see the goal, the keeper, and can feel his heart pumping. He has just enough space, eyes fixed on the ball as he pulls his right foot back, hitting it hard and when he looks up all he sees is the net moving. He can hear the stadium explode, the Birmingham fans shouting out their ecstasy with such force that the protests and frustration from the Spurs fans are completely drowned out.
He runs.
No idea where he’s going, just knowing he’s too full of something to stand still and he sets off in a frantic speed, hearing the rest of the team thunder behind him. In the end he falls, drops, and he doesn’t have to look to know that Johan is the first person who lands on top of him.
The rest of the game disappears in a blur. He runs his heart out, refusing to let any of the Tottenham players even get close to the ball and he’s relieved when the final whistle blow. He finds himself surrounded by team mates, everyone patting his back and ruffling his hair and he beams at everything and nothing.
He feels Djourou sneak up behind him, an arm around his waist.
“That goal was fucking brilliant, mate. Didn’t know you could do that.”
Seb grins, pushing him lightly as they head for the tunnel.
“Shut it. You should show me a bit more appreciation, mate.”
Johan just smirks, pushing him ahead towards the dressing room.
“No time like the present, eh?”
Fandom: Football
Pairing: Sebastian Larsson / Johan Djourou
Rating: PG
Prompt: Present
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not mine, not real, all horribly fake.
Word count: 521
Summary: Based on and around this goal by Sebastian against Spurs last season.
Despite the fact that he tries to focus on what he’s doing he’s painfully aware of the clock ticking away next to the pitch. He knows that they’re running out of time, and even though 2-2 against Tottenham at White Hart Lane isn’t bad, he knows they can win it. He must think they can win it, otherwise he has nothing to do on the pitch.
And, he has to admit, deep down inside his heart is still slightly more red than blue (he can’t help it, a boy at the age of 16 is easily influenced and Seb was no exception when he ended up at Arsenal), and a goal against Spurs would mean everything.
He holds back when he sees Kapo running up the side, letting Forssell run deep while he falls back, feeling his heart race as he sees the Finn take a shot, and he shouts out his frustration along with the travelling fans as the ball hits the crossbar. He doesn’t have time to think after that though, the ball ending up right at his feet.
Instead of going forwards the pulls back, his eyes scanning the field as he tries to pick out a fellow team mate to pass. He drifts infield, feeling Berbatov against his back and when he feels the other man pushing forward the thinks, for a moment, that he’s lost possession. He sticks his foot out, and he feels himself connect with the ball, flicking it back and he turns on nothing, seeing Berbatov continue straight ahead in the corner of his eye.
He doesn’t think, then. He can see the goal, the keeper, and can feel his heart pumping. He has just enough space, eyes fixed on the ball as he pulls his right foot back, hitting it hard and when he looks up all he sees is the net moving. He can hear the stadium explode, the Birmingham fans shouting out their ecstasy with such force that the protests and frustration from the Spurs fans are completely drowned out.
He runs.
No idea where he’s going, just knowing he’s too full of something to stand still and he sets off in a frantic speed, hearing the rest of the team thunder behind him. In the end he falls, drops, and he doesn’t have to look to know that Johan is the first person who lands on top of him.
The rest of the game disappears in a blur. He runs his heart out, refusing to let any of the Tottenham players even get close to the ball and he’s relieved when the final whistle blow. He finds himself surrounded by team mates, everyone patting his back and ruffling his hair and he beams at everything and nothing.
He feels Djourou sneak up behind him, an arm around his waist.
“That goal was fucking brilliant, mate. Didn’t know you could do that.”
Seb grins, pushing him lightly as they head for the tunnel.
“Shut it. You should show me a bit more appreciation, mate.”
Johan just smirks, pushing him ahead towards the dressing room.
“No time like the present, eh?”