Prompt: Confusion; Claim: Seb Larsson
Title: Next morning
Fandom: Football
Pairing: Sebastian Larsson / Colin Doyle
Rating: R
Prompt: Confusion
Warnings: None, except perhaps mentions of sexual situations
Disclaimer: Not mine, not real, all horribly fake.
Word count: 257
Summary: The morning after Brum’s promotional party.
He opens his eyes, stirring, and he blinks up into the ceiling. It takes a moment before he realises where he is, why and with whom. He extracts a hand, touching the sleeping form next to him. He closes his eyes, flashes of last night coming back to him.
He remembers the beers, the pub and the loud music. The celebrations, and the way the team had been dancing on the floor, tables and chairs. He remembers the shots, how they all bet money on who would be the last one standing.
He remembers, that when he left the pub he wasn’t quite standing. Hanging, mostly, onto Colin who laughed and called him a lightweight. He vaguely remembers the taxi, trying to make sense out of the conversation between the driver and his team mate. He remembers them pulling up outside a house he didn’t recognise, and Colin dragging him up the stairs.
He remembers how it felt when Colin pushed him up against the wall and kissed him. How hard he had become, from just that. He remembers how it had felt when he let Colin push him down on the bed and he remembers how it felt being fucked by him.
He opens his eyes again, smiling lazily up into the ceiling before glancing to the keeper next to him. The Irishman is still fast asleep, snoring lightly, and Seb can’t help but smile. He rolls over onto his side, letting his eyes slip shut again as he allows himself to go back to sleep.
Fandom: Football
Pairing: Sebastian Larsson / Colin Doyle
Rating: R
Prompt: Confusion
Warnings: None, except perhaps mentions of sexual situations
Disclaimer: Not mine, not real, all horribly fake.
Word count: 257
Summary: The morning after Brum’s promotional party.
He opens his eyes, stirring, and he blinks up into the ceiling. It takes a moment before he realises where he is, why and with whom. He extracts a hand, touching the sleeping form next to him. He closes his eyes, flashes of last night coming back to him.
He remembers the beers, the pub and the loud music. The celebrations, and the way the team had been dancing on the floor, tables and chairs. He remembers the shots, how they all bet money on who would be the last one standing.
He remembers, that when he left the pub he wasn’t quite standing. Hanging, mostly, onto Colin who laughed and called him a lightweight. He vaguely remembers the taxi, trying to make sense out of the conversation between the driver and his team mate. He remembers them pulling up outside a house he didn’t recognise, and Colin dragging him up the stairs.
He remembers how it felt when Colin pushed him up against the wall and kissed him. How hard he had become, from just that. He remembers how it had felt when he let Colin push him down on the bed and he remembers how it felt being fucked by him.
He opens his eyes again, smiling lazily up into the ceiling before glancing to the keeper next to him. The Irishman is still fast asleep, snoring lightly, and Seb can’t help but smile. He rolls over onto his side, letting his eyes slip shut again as he allows himself to go back to sleep.