Los Gatos 17/? part 3
Pairing: David Villa/David Silva (main), Sernando (???), others
Characters: David Silva, David Villa, Fábio Coentrão, Cristiano Ronaldo, Cesc Fàbregas, Mesut Özil, Jesús Navas, Paulo Bento, Kaká (this part of the chapter)
Rating: R (?)
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: I don't claim it has ever happened.
Chapter 17
David froze on his bed when the door of the penthouse opened. He wasn’t holding his hopes high that it was just Santi. Santi rarely if ever went inside unless instructed.
Not even rolling over, not even moving a toe, he listened to Villa’s steps echoing through the deadly silent flat, recognising every sound as belonging to a particular move of the man, classifying them as specific moods.
He pinpointed the exact moment Villa realised his wasn’t in the bedroom.
He recognised the initial surprise, the following calculation and the resulting ire.
He didn’t try to mask the stiffing of his back when the door of his room burst open.
“What are you doing here?”, the man crossed the room to stand over the bed.
“Sleeping”, David murmured into the pillow, knowing full well that forcing Villa to talk to the back of his head never failed to piss the man off.
“Why not in our bed?”, it came, deceptively collected and partially curious.
“I wanted to finally test mine”, he breathed out.
Silence.
Then, the unmistakable sound of an opening zip. A whistle of a discarded shirt.
A dipping of the mattress.
“Move over, Silvita”, a heated breath on his neck, “You can’t christen a bed on your own”, a hand travelling down his naked belly.
“Wait”, he gingerly tried to cover the bigger hand with his own, preventing it from reaching its destination, “Wait, I don’t want to have sex, please”, he almost ignored the wild hammering of his heart.
He had never told Villa ‘no’ before, not since he had taken his virginity and he didn’t know if the man was going to listen. He had come close to not saying that just because of the horror of having his plea disregarded.
“Why are you naked then, sweetheart?”, Villa purred into his ear, his other hand playing with his hair.
David bit his lip, tears welling in his eyes. He knew he welt still like a statue. He didn’t care. He didn’t care and he couldn’t respond, couldn’t bring himself to admit he had almost thrown up when he had fully comprehended where had the money with which his clothes had been bought had come from and what it meant.
“It’s too hot”, he said and hid his face in the pillow.
His tears were all-too-audible.
“You’ve got a headache, sweetheart?”, Villa teased, rolling him onto his back and then pulling closer to himself.
On such a small bed there had been no distance to speak of to begin with.
“Can I kiss it better?”, kisses rained all over David’s head as he was being arranged next to the man’s bigger frame, mentally fighting to prepare himself for what was coming, “You were afraid when I wasn’t coming back, kid?”, Villa’s chest vibrated with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t leave my pet to feel lonely and abandoned”, somehow, David couldn’t stop the silent weeping, “Come on, sweetheart, go to sleep.”
And then, when he was being completely blanketed by Villa’s body he realised that the man had been still wearing his boxers all that time.
...........................................................................................................................................................
Characters: David Silva, David Villa, Fábio Coentrão, Cristiano Ronaldo, Cesc Fàbregas, Mesut Özil, Jesús Navas, Paulo Bento, Kaká (this part of the chapter)
Rating: R (?)
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: I don't claim it has ever happened.
Chapter 17
David froze on his bed when the door of the penthouse opened. He wasn’t holding his hopes high that it was just Santi. Santi rarely if ever went inside unless instructed.
Not even rolling over, not even moving a toe, he listened to Villa’s steps echoing through the deadly silent flat, recognising every sound as belonging to a particular move of the man, classifying them as specific moods.
He pinpointed the exact moment Villa realised his wasn’t in the bedroom.
He recognised the initial surprise, the following calculation and the resulting ire.
He didn’t try to mask the stiffing of his back when the door of his room burst open.
“What are you doing here?”, the man crossed the room to stand over the bed.
“Sleeping”, David murmured into the pillow, knowing full well that forcing Villa to talk to the back of his head never failed to piss the man off.
“Why not in our bed?”, it came, deceptively collected and partially curious.
“I wanted to finally test mine”, he breathed out.
Silence.
Then, the unmistakable sound of an opening zip. A whistle of a discarded shirt.
A dipping of the mattress.
“Move over, Silvita”, a heated breath on his neck, “You can’t christen a bed on your own”, a hand travelling down his naked belly.
“Wait”, he gingerly tried to cover the bigger hand with his own, preventing it from reaching its destination, “Wait, I don’t want to have sex, please”, he almost ignored the wild hammering of his heart.
He had never told Villa ‘no’ before, not since he had taken his virginity and he didn’t know if the man was going to listen. He had come close to not saying that just because of the horror of having his plea disregarded.
“Why are you naked then, sweetheart?”, Villa purred into his ear, his other hand playing with his hair.
David bit his lip, tears welling in his eyes. He knew he welt still like a statue. He didn’t care. He didn’t care and he couldn’t respond, couldn’t bring himself to admit he had almost thrown up when he had fully comprehended where had the money with which his clothes had been bought had come from and what it meant.
“It’s too hot”, he said and hid his face in the pillow.
His tears were all-too-audible.
“You’ve got a headache, sweetheart?”, Villa teased, rolling him onto his back and then pulling closer to himself.
On such a small bed there had been no distance to speak of to begin with.
“Can I kiss it better?”, kisses rained all over David’s head as he was being arranged next to the man’s bigger frame, mentally fighting to prepare himself for what was coming, “You were afraid when I wasn’t coming back, kid?”, Villa’s chest vibrated with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t leave my pet to feel lonely and abandoned”, somehow, David couldn’t stop the silent weeping, “Come on, sweetheart, go to sleep.”
And then, when he was being completely blanketed by Villa’s body he realised that the man had been still wearing his boxers all that time.
...........................................................................................................................................................