Come back when you can
Chapter Eight
Pairing and characters: Xabi Alonso/Steven Gerrard; Daniel Agger, Martin Skrtel, Esteban Granero, Harry Kewell. Other characters mentioned (like Jüergen Klopp).
Type: is an AU based in real events of someone's life... adapted for this fandom.
Rating: R... in general... still...
Disclaimer: This is just for fun ok? There's not others intentions.
Doing the beta thing ... an_only_tree
~.~
“Do you mind if I take you home tonight
Stay another day, if that’s ok,
Tell me baby
Would you mind if I take you home with me
Where no one can see
So don’t be shy…”
~.~
It’s past three in the morning and the smell of fresh coffee mixed with the sweet aroma of chocolate sauce melting in the warm waffles fills their nostrils. The 24 hour coffee shop has only three costumers Steven, Xabi and another guy who’s talking very amiably with the waitress. Xabi is content to just sip his coffee, watching almost in awe as Steven wolfs down his second helping of waffles.
-“You were seriously hungry, weren’t you?”
-“Not really. Can’t say no to more of the same when it’s so delicious though, can I?”
-“Gluttony is a mortal sin.”
-“Are you calling me a sinner?”
-“I am.”
That lull in every sound and movement that’s unique to this time of the night, settles over the café minute by minute and word by word. Xabi can feel it though, that pulse in his blood that he doesn’t want to call yearning and covers it up under a thick layer of warmth his body can only seem to produce around Steven. He knows he’s probably staring a little too insistently at his every gesture and smile, but he’s busy cataloguing the various little ways in which Steven’s changed. The wrinkles in his forehead are deeper and he’s a more patient listener than Xabi remembers, even when he doesn’t agree.
One thing has not changed, and is the way how Steven looks at Xabi when he’s speaking. His shinning blue eyes rest so peacefully on his, a hidden smile on his lips, contented to only to listen the Spaniard’s rambling. Xabi can’t hide the satisfaction that a little detail like that can bring, just knowing that he can still have Steven in this way.
-“So what happened between you and the writer wannabe?”
-“He’s actually good, you know? You should try to read his book once it’s out.”
-“I don’t know if I can take that kind of surrealism. I hate when a book gives me a headache instead of making me feel like I’ve invested my time in something that worth the effort.”
-“Being in oil fields all this time has killed your imagination then?”
-“I’m the practical kind, you know me… and don’t change the subject. Come on, how come you aren’t together?”
-“How come you’re so interested?”
-“Try living in close quarters with a bunch of smelly men for years and see how gossipy you get. I dunno… He seems to have a lot in common with you, so it’s strange that you aren’t together.”
-“That’s probably the main reason we’re not. We understand each other a little too well, I guess. We like the same things… all we ever used to argue about was Luis Buñuel movies or how overrated Paulo Coelho is these days. Well, always.”
-“Mundane situations are too much to handle for someone like him?”
-“No… we were incapable of living those situations together, that’s another subject. I think that’s why he’s taken such a liking to Juan, it gets him completely out of his comfort zone. You should have seen how pissed off he was when Juan forced him into watching The X Factor and then he became even more aggravated when he couldn’t stop watching… Completely lost his marbles the other night, they got into this whole… discussion about voting for the next round. Apparently, Esteban was all in for the girl with the best voice while Juan dared to agree with the people’s choice. You can imagine Esteban’s rant about societal collapse and dumbing down expectations in the entertainment industry, but it’s not too hard for Juan to shut his mouth.”
-“How?”
-“Giving him a blowjob. He’s a hopelessly easy lay.”
Steven’s chuckles bring a wide grin in Xabi’s features.
-“Have to give Little John some credit. He’s brave to even try to lower Esteban to plebe status.”
-“They watch the show every week now. They even made me see it this one time.”
-“No way! Wait… are you actually telling me… NO!”
-“You can’t critique something you don’t watch, right? It’s quite a fascinating look into how starved for attention we’ve become as a society, sad really. Plus… there’s the occasional talented Singer wasting their time there…”
-“You watch The X Factor now?”- Steven smirks, narrowing his eyes at Xabi, who’s trying to hide his embarrassment in the coffee cup.
-“Sometimes…”
-“Xaaaabsss…,”- Steven says in a singsong tone.
-“OK, fine, yes… I watch the bloody show now!”
Steven’s shaking with laughter, his face getting progressively more scarlet as his eyes are slowly filing up with tears. Xabi throws a napkin into his face and mutters something about predictability, but he’s failing really hard at not cracking up himself.
-“OK, fine, you’ve had your fun… So… how about you?”
-“What about me?”
-“Are you married to the job?”
-“Married and committed.”
-“Oh come on, I can’t believe you wouldn’t manage to at least guarantee, I don’t know… some casual sex, right?”
-“What?!?”
-“Or whatever you people do to cope with your jobs.”
-“Casual sex was provided in the right amount, yeah, now that you’ve brought it up…,”- Steven says, pursing his lips and enjoying the perplexed stare Xabi seems to be stuck in. There’s a moment of silence until Steven speaks again.
-“It can’t be that surprising that getting into a… relationship in those conditions is kind of difficult.”
-“But you’d … I don’t know… kind of…”
-“Missed it?”
-“I mean… yes… Do you?”
Steven looks intently at Xabi and he’s got the words trapped in his throat, convinced it’s not the right time to let them slip away, just not right now anyway.
It’s not about needing to hear it. Xabi knows that certain things were genuine between them because he learned with Steven that there are more effective ways to express your feelings, to make them real and tangible. Words aren’t enough to keep someone by your side, showing it is more powerful and goes deeper than just saying it. Xabi doesn’t have any doubt that Steven really loved him, unspoken as it was. He didn’t need it anyway.
But in this moment he wants to hear I miss you so badly.
Steven would not admit in a thousand years that (even his mule-like stubbornness has its limits or that he’s reached them a few times) especially in lonely nights in camps, when it was quiet enough to hear Xabi’s breath in his ear and the mountain air was crisp enough to smell Xabi’s scent; that he could feel his fingertips slightly touch the inside of his wrist, Xabi’s lips in the nape of his neck, his warmth engulfing him… There was a price to pay for those all too brief moments of relief once Steven’s mind returned him to reality.
Still… he’s not going to say it. And Xabi knows it.
-“You get used to it eventually. It’s just… part of the job, one more cog that has to fit in the mechanism.”
-“Is it worth it?”- Xabi ask pointedly but quietly, looking straight into Steven’s eyes, demanding an answer that he already knows. He’s always known it.
-“I’d make the same decision again.”
-“Of course you would,”- Xabi says, smiling, lowering his eyes towards Steven’s hands on the table. He just lets his fingers touch the knuckles on Steven’s right hand. An instant later they’re drifting towards the soft skin of his wrist with so much intention that Steven can feel it traveling through his pores.
-“You know… at the time, I said to myself,”- Xabi starts to trace little circles in Steven’s palm, - “how selfish it would be… me having it all and you missing out on what you always dreamed of before us. Seeing you now, knowing that you did what you really wanted to do… It makes me nothing but proud of you.”
-“I know,”- Steven’s whisper is almost lost on its way to his palm. His eyes are fixed on the invisible doodles traced with Xabi’s finger.
-“I’m happy for you. I mean, doesn’t matter what happened… in the end we both got what we wanted. There’s a few people in the world that can say out what I am today is what I always saw myself becoming from the beginning, and that’s what it’s important.”
-“It is. It really is…”
Xabi smiles, knowing that this is all that Steven can allow himself to say. He can already feel how much energy Steven’s spending right now on breathing and being emotionally repressed at the same time, natural multitasker that he is. He’s not sure if he should be excited or stressed about it. It would probably serve him well to bow to Esteban’s wisdom and stay neutral… But goddammit, it’s really difficult to keep an even keel with Steven, not when what Xabi really wants to do is make him give up on both the breathing and the compartmentalizing sides of the equation.
-“Do you want something else?”- Steven stands up from his seat, the question an obvious attempt at politeness, because as Xabi can see, he has no intention of staying put any longer. Xabi would recognize the look in his eyes if they were both blindfolded and it sends shivers down his spine.
He knows they both need this to happen.
A few pounds are left on the table. Steven is the first to step out of the small bubble of warmth, his heart racing at dizzying speed in his ribcage. He breathes in the cold October almost-morning air, but it’s not enough to get any relief. Xabi is out a few seconds later, looking so calm that it’s almost unnerving.
-“Do you want to…”
Xabi’s not even sure how to finish the sentence, but Steven has other ideas anyway. He does want, he really does, so his mouth silences Xabi’s, drowning his words in a rushed kiss, desperate and needy, a placeholder for all the words he’d struggled not to say earlier. Xabi can hear them now. Their senses are taken over by years of yearning, wanting no more than feel the heat of their skin. Xabi’s ending the kiss because he needs the oxygen (a technicality), because he needs to see Steven’s face, look into his eyes and find… it. Find some meaning in all that blue about what’s suddenly blown up his life all over again.
-“I’m taking you to my place, OK? We need… taxi… we need… oh fuck,”- Xabi’s not making much sense, but in his defence that’s no easy task. Not with Steven licking and biting his neck, not with Steven’s hand tugging at his shirt, not with his cold fingers sliding under it and across the skin of his back. His short nails are scraping the skin there and Xabi needs to push him away as much as he needs to pull him even closer because fuck, there’s got to be a more comfortable place than the middle of the sidewalk to get fucked right now.
Technicalities.
Steven tries to calm himself down and lets go Xabi, who is trying to push some much needed air through his lungs, his eyes glued to Steven’s the whole time. He starts to walk down the road mentally willing a taxi, any bloody taxi to swerve around the corner. Eventually one does.
It’s a silent ride home. They’re not looking at each other. Steven’s fingers just ghost over the palm of Xabi’s hand until Xabi catches them and links them with his own.
Steven directs his gaze to Xabi’s profile, trying to find every freckle and every scar scattered somewhere on that pale skin, every detail he remembers even though he can’t expect to see in the lingering autumn darkness. He can stare and be creepy because Xabi’s not paying attention, he seems to find the street he lives on absolutely fascinating and Steven will gladly grab the opportunity with both hands. There are never too many memories of Xabi lost in his thoughts one can have, Steven’s sure of that.
-“Last building on the right,”- Xabi tells the driver and when the car stops he turns to Steven and with a slight smile, his eyes shining, he whispers: “This is it.”
It is indeed… Steven echoes it to himself.
~.~
The key is stuck in the lock. Xabi curses for the tenth time in his attempt to open the door, refusing to acknowledge that his trembling hands are probably not helping. He tries and fails again, which is unsurprising, given that Steven is on a mission to unzip his trousers and slide his hands past the elastic of his underwear. It’s a successful mission. Xabi rests his forehead on the cool wood of the door, trying hard not to think of insomniac, pathologically curious Mrs. Galbraith from across the hall. If she’s up snooping around at this hour, maybe she deserves the sight of Xabi enjoying the feeling of Steven’s hand stroking him with slow movements, just the way he likes it. Oh please let her have a good angle of Steven biting into the nape of his neck, Xabi thinks. The hallway’s definitely quiet enough for Xabi’s nonsense mumbling elicited by every flick of Steven’s wrist to travel quite far.
-“Fuck… Steven please… let me… open the door.”
This is the first full sentence Xabi can finally mutter, but Steven is having none of it. Instead, he yanks Xabi by his collar, turns him around, pins him to the door with his mouth and kisses him so hard, he’s worried he might literally devour him. Steven never stops stroking him in the meantime. It’s been a long, long time since he’s wanted someone this much and it was Xabi. Still is and Steven knows he’s doomed to only want one person like this for as long as he lives.
The realization finds Steven even through the heated cloud engulfing him right now. It’s not just that he needs this so much; of course it’s different to all the times he’s just imagined it, but sought sex as release and enjoyed the one he was with, if he couldn’t have the one he wanted. That he can rationalize. What’s somewhat alarming is how addictive sex with this one person can be, the one that can make this flare of want reach unbearable levels. It’s a different kind of need. He needs Xabi urgently, desperately. If he’s going to stray from the path that’s so obviously meant for him, Steven needs a tangible reason. He’s always been hard to convince.
And right now, when he’s looking in Xabi’s darkened eyes and can feel Xabi’s chest heaving under his, Steven has no doubt this is what he wants in this moment. And probably later.
Probably…
Steven grabs the forgotten keys from Xabi’s hand and with a swift movement he opens the door from his first attempt, his eyes fixed on Xabi’s the whole time. He gives the keys back and makes just enough room for Xabi to step inside of his apartment, never loosening his grip to Xabi’s waist and once they’re inside, their movements are like a very well-practiced dance.
Layers of clothes are tracing the path to the stairs, Xabi leading him through the darkness. They trip over the stairs, their laughter followed by ragged gasps for air the only sounds piercing through the night. They’re already naked when they finally fall on Xabi’s bed. He’s always loved big beds, a necessity given his restless sleep. When they were together, Steven eventually got used to being ambushed in the middle of the night by a painful leg kick, an elbow to the face or ribs, or wherever Xabi could strike a blow. Luckily, there was an upside to sharing a bed with Xabi in the first place, but big beds were Steven’s salvation.
And this is a massive bed.
Xabi worries that he’ll have to find a new one pretty soon, or that he’ll have to replace the headboard if he doesn’t stop gripping it so hard, he can almost hear the bars ripped apart under his fingers. He’s trying to move his hips, desperately seeking release, but he’s trapped between the mattress and Steven’s body lying across his back. He hisses with every bite on the nape of his neck and gaps with every thrust of Steven’s hips. He’ll be bruised tomorrow, no doubt about it, bluish purple marks on his wrist, neck and waist. Steven is fucking him so hard and he’s loving every minute of being wanted this much.
-“Let me see your face… just let me…,”- Xabi manages to say and Steven stops and lets Xabi turn around and face him.
They share a hard, slow, breathtaking kiss that makes Steven lose all sense of direction. And isn’t until Xabi helpfully wraps his legs around Steven’s waist and starts to move his hips that he slides again inside the Spaniard. He can’t hold it for too much longer, he’s trying, but it’s a losing battle for both of them. He can see it on Xabi’s face and feel it in the frantic movements of his hand which he pushes away to replace with his own in a rhythm as erratic as the movement of his hips. The way Xabi moans his name against his skin makes Steven lose himself completely consumed by the unbelievable pleasure, but he tries to regain some strength and make Xabi come. Not that it takes too much by now, a few flicks of his wrist and Xabi is biting hard into his collarbone, a none too gentle reminder of where he belongs.
He missed this, missed everything… and he can’t avoid saying it any longer.
-“Fuck, I missed you, Xabi… missed you so much…”
It feels like I love you.
-“I know,”- Xabi whispers in his ear, heart in his throat - “I know, me too.”
He wraps his arms tighter against Steven, kisses his cheek, his neck, breathing him. They fall asleep almost instantly, facing each other, Xabi’s arm around Steven waist.
The sunrise is tracing patches of oranges and yellows in the sky.
~.~
The fragment in the beggining belongs to one of my favorites
Pairing and characters: Xabi Alonso/Steven Gerrard; Daniel Agger, Martin Skrtel, Esteban Granero, Harry Kewell. Other characters mentioned (like Jüergen Klopp).
Type: is an AU based in real events of someone's life... adapted for this fandom.
Rating: R... in general... still...
Disclaimer: This is just for fun ok? There's not others intentions.
Doing the beta thing ... an_only_tree
~.~
“Do you mind if I take you home tonight
Stay another day, if that’s ok,
Tell me baby
Would you mind if I take you home with me
Where no one can see
So don’t be shy…”
~.~
It’s past three in the morning and the smell of fresh coffee mixed with the sweet aroma of chocolate sauce melting in the warm waffles fills their nostrils. The 24 hour coffee shop has only three costumers Steven, Xabi and another guy who’s talking very amiably with the waitress. Xabi is content to just sip his coffee, watching almost in awe as Steven wolfs down his second helping of waffles.
-“You were seriously hungry, weren’t you?”
-“Not really. Can’t say no to more of the same when it’s so delicious though, can I?”
-“Gluttony is a mortal sin.”
-“Are you calling me a sinner?”
-“I am.”
That lull in every sound and movement that’s unique to this time of the night, settles over the café minute by minute and word by word. Xabi can feel it though, that pulse in his blood that he doesn’t want to call yearning and covers it up under a thick layer of warmth his body can only seem to produce around Steven. He knows he’s probably staring a little too insistently at his every gesture and smile, but he’s busy cataloguing the various little ways in which Steven’s changed. The wrinkles in his forehead are deeper and he’s a more patient listener than Xabi remembers, even when he doesn’t agree.
One thing has not changed, and is the way how Steven looks at Xabi when he’s speaking. His shinning blue eyes rest so peacefully on his, a hidden smile on his lips, contented to only to listen the Spaniard’s rambling. Xabi can’t hide the satisfaction that a little detail like that can bring, just knowing that he can still have Steven in this way.
-“So what happened between you and the writer wannabe?”
-“He’s actually good, you know? You should try to read his book once it’s out.”
-“I don’t know if I can take that kind of surrealism. I hate when a book gives me a headache instead of making me feel like I’ve invested my time in something that worth the effort.”
-“Being in oil fields all this time has killed your imagination then?”
-“I’m the practical kind, you know me… and don’t change the subject. Come on, how come you aren’t together?”
-“How come you’re so interested?”
-“Try living in close quarters with a bunch of smelly men for years and see how gossipy you get. I dunno… He seems to have a lot in common with you, so it’s strange that you aren’t together.”
-“That’s probably the main reason we’re not. We understand each other a little too well, I guess. We like the same things… all we ever used to argue about was Luis Buñuel movies or how overrated Paulo Coelho is these days. Well, always.”
-“Mundane situations are too much to handle for someone like him?”
-“No… we were incapable of living those situations together, that’s another subject. I think that’s why he’s taken such a liking to Juan, it gets him completely out of his comfort zone. You should have seen how pissed off he was when Juan forced him into watching The X Factor and then he became even more aggravated when he couldn’t stop watching… Completely lost his marbles the other night, they got into this whole… discussion about voting for the next round. Apparently, Esteban was all in for the girl with the best voice while Juan dared to agree with the people’s choice. You can imagine Esteban’s rant about societal collapse and dumbing down expectations in the entertainment industry, but it’s not too hard for Juan to shut his mouth.”
-“How?”
-“Giving him a blowjob. He’s a hopelessly easy lay.”
Steven’s chuckles bring a wide grin in Xabi’s features.
-“Have to give Little John some credit. He’s brave to even try to lower Esteban to plebe status.”
-“They watch the show every week now. They even made me see it this one time.”
-“No way! Wait… are you actually telling me… NO!”
-“You can’t critique something you don’t watch, right? It’s quite a fascinating look into how starved for attention we’ve become as a society, sad really. Plus… there’s the occasional talented Singer wasting their time there…”
-“You watch The X Factor now?”- Steven smirks, narrowing his eyes at Xabi, who’s trying to hide his embarrassment in the coffee cup.
-“Sometimes…”
-“Xaaaabsss…,”- Steven says in a singsong tone.
-“OK, fine, yes… I watch the bloody show now!”
Steven’s shaking with laughter, his face getting progressively more scarlet as his eyes are slowly filing up with tears. Xabi throws a napkin into his face and mutters something about predictability, but he’s failing really hard at not cracking up himself.
-“OK, fine, you’ve had your fun… So… how about you?”
-“What about me?”
-“Are you married to the job?”
-“Married and committed.”
-“Oh come on, I can’t believe you wouldn’t manage to at least guarantee, I don’t know… some casual sex, right?”
-“What?!?”
-“Or whatever you people do to cope with your jobs.”
-“Casual sex was provided in the right amount, yeah, now that you’ve brought it up…,”- Steven says, pursing his lips and enjoying the perplexed stare Xabi seems to be stuck in. There’s a moment of silence until Steven speaks again.
-“It can’t be that surprising that getting into a… relationship in those conditions is kind of difficult.”
-“But you’d … I don’t know… kind of…”
-“Missed it?”
-“I mean… yes… Do you?”
Steven looks intently at Xabi and he’s got the words trapped in his throat, convinced it’s not the right time to let them slip away, just not right now anyway.
It’s not about needing to hear it. Xabi knows that certain things were genuine between them because he learned with Steven that there are more effective ways to express your feelings, to make them real and tangible. Words aren’t enough to keep someone by your side, showing it is more powerful and goes deeper than just saying it. Xabi doesn’t have any doubt that Steven really loved him, unspoken as it was. He didn’t need it anyway.
But in this moment he wants to hear I miss you so badly.
Steven would not admit in a thousand years that (even his mule-like stubbornness has its limits or that he’s reached them a few times) especially in lonely nights in camps, when it was quiet enough to hear Xabi’s breath in his ear and the mountain air was crisp enough to smell Xabi’s scent; that he could feel his fingertips slightly touch the inside of his wrist, Xabi’s lips in the nape of his neck, his warmth engulfing him… There was a price to pay for those all too brief moments of relief once Steven’s mind returned him to reality.
Still… he’s not going to say it. And Xabi knows it.
-“You get used to it eventually. It’s just… part of the job, one more cog that has to fit in the mechanism.”
-“Is it worth it?”- Xabi ask pointedly but quietly, looking straight into Steven’s eyes, demanding an answer that he already knows. He’s always known it.
-“I’d make the same decision again.”
-“Of course you would,”- Xabi says, smiling, lowering his eyes towards Steven’s hands on the table. He just lets his fingers touch the knuckles on Steven’s right hand. An instant later they’re drifting towards the soft skin of his wrist with so much intention that Steven can feel it traveling through his pores.
-“You know… at the time, I said to myself,”- Xabi starts to trace little circles in Steven’s palm, - “how selfish it would be… me having it all and you missing out on what you always dreamed of before us. Seeing you now, knowing that you did what you really wanted to do… It makes me nothing but proud of you.”
-“I know,”- Steven’s whisper is almost lost on its way to his palm. His eyes are fixed on the invisible doodles traced with Xabi’s finger.
-“I’m happy for you. I mean, doesn’t matter what happened… in the end we both got what we wanted. There’s a few people in the world that can say out what I am today is what I always saw myself becoming from the beginning, and that’s what it’s important.”
-“It is. It really is…”
Xabi smiles, knowing that this is all that Steven can allow himself to say. He can already feel how much energy Steven’s spending right now on breathing and being emotionally repressed at the same time, natural multitasker that he is. He’s not sure if he should be excited or stressed about it. It would probably serve him well to bow to Esteban’s wisdom and stay neutral… But goddammit, it’s really difficult to keep an even keel with Steven, not when what Xabi really wants to do is make him give up on both the breathing and the compartmentalizing sides of the equation.
-“Do you want something else?”- Steven stands up from his seat, the question an obvious attempt at politeness, because as Xabi can see, he has no intention of staying put any longer. Xabi would recognize the look in his eyes if they were both blindfolded and it sends shivers down his spine.
He knows they both need this to happen.
A few pounds are left on the table. Steven is the first to step out of the small bubble of warmth, his heart racing at dizzying speed in his ribcage. He breathes in the cold October almost-morning air, but it’s not enough to get any relief. Xabi is out a few seconds later, looking so calm that it’s almost unnerving.
-“Do you want to…”
Xabi’s not even sure how to finish the sentence, but Steven has other ideas anyway. He does want, he really does, so his mouth silences Xabi’s, drowning his words in a rushed kiss, desperate and needy, a placeholder for all the words he’d struggled not to say earlier. Xabi can hear them now. Their senses are taken over by years of yearning, wanting no more than feel the heat of their skin. Xabi’s ending the kiss because he needs the oxygen (a technicality), because he needs to see Steven’s face, look into his eyes and find… it. Find some meaning in all that blue about what’s suddenly blown up his life all over again.
-“I’m taking you to my place, OK? We need… taxi… we need… oh fuck,”- Xabi’s not making much sense, but in his defence that’s no easy task. Not with Steven licking and biting his neck, not with Steven’s hand tugging at his shirt, not with his cold fingers sliding under it and across the skin of his back. His short nails are scraping the skin there and Xabi needs to push him away as much as he needs to pull him even closer because fuck, there’s got to be a more comfortable place than the middle of the sidewalk to get fucked right now.
Technicalities.
Steven tries to calm himself down and lets go Xabi, who is trying to push some much needed air through his lungs, his eyes glued to Steven’s the whole time. He starts to walk down the road mentally willing a taxi, any bloody taxi to swerve around the corner. Eventually one does.
It’s a silent ride home. They’re not looking at each other. Steven’s fingers just ghost over the palm of Xabi’s hand until Xabi catches them and links them with his own.
Steven directs his gaze to Xabi’s profile, trying to find every freckle and every scar scattered somewhere on that pale skin, every detail he remembers even though he can’t expect to see in the lingering autumn darkness. He can stare and be creepy because Xabi’s not paying attention, he seems to find the street he lives on absolutely fascinating and Steven will gladly grab the opportunity with both hands. There are never too many memories of Xabi lost in his thoughts one can have, Steven’s sure of that.
-“Last building on the right,”- Xabi tells the driver and when the car stops he turns to Steven and with a slight smile, his eyes shining, he whispers: “This is it.”
It is indeed… Steven echoes it to himself.
~.~
The key is stuck in the lock. Xabi curses for the tenth time in his attempt to open the door, refusing to acknowledge that his trembling hands are probably not helping. He tries and fails again, which is unsurprising, given that Steven is on a mission to unzip his trousers and slide his hands past the elastic of his underwear. It’s a successful mission. Xabi rests his forehead on the cool wood of the door, trying hard not to think of insomniac, pathologically curious Mrs. Galbraith from across the hall. If she’s up snooping around at this hour, maybe she deserves the sight of Xabi enjoying the feeling of Steven’s hand stroking him with slow movements, just the way he likes it. Oh please let her have a good angle of Steven biting into the nape of his neck, Xabi thinks. The hallway’s definitely quiet enough for Xabi’s nonsense mumbling elicited by every flick of Steven’s wrist to travel quite far.
-“Fuck… Steven please… let me… open the door.”
This is the first full sentence Xabi can finally mutter, but Steven is having none of it. Instead, he yanks Xabi by his collar, turns him around, pins him to the door with his mouth and kisses him so hard, he’s worried he might literally devour him. Steven never stops stroking him in the meantime. It’s been a long, long time since he’s wanted someone this much and it was Xabi. Still is and Steven knows he’s doomed to only want one person like this for as long as he lives.
The realization finds Steven even through the heated cloud engulfing him right now. It’s not just that he needs this so much; of course it’s different to all the times he’s just imagined it, but sought sex as release and enjoyed the one he was with, if he couldn’t have the one he wanted. That he can rationalize. What’s somewhat alarming is how addictive sex with this one person can be, the one that can make this flare of want reach unbearable levels. It’s a different kind of need. He needs Xabi urgently, desperately. If he’s going to stray from the path that’s so obviously meant for him, Steven needs a tangible reason. He’s always been hard to convince.
And right now, when he’s looking in Xabi’s darkened eyes and can feel Xabi’s chest heaving under his, Steven has no doubt this is what he wants in this moment. And probably later.
Probably…
Steven grabs the forgotten keys from Xabi’s hand and with a swift movement he opens the door from his first attempt, his eyes fixed on Xabi’s the whole time. He gives the keys back and makes just enough room for Xabi to step inside of his apartment, never loosening his grip to Xabi’s waist and once they’re inside, their movements are like a very well-practiced dance.
Layers of clothes are tracing the path to the stairs, Xabi leading him through the darkness. They trip over the stairs, their laughter followed by ragged gasps for air the only sounds piercing through the night. They’re already naked when they finally fall on Xabi’s bed. He’s always loved big beds, a necessity given his restless sleep. When they were together, Steven eventually got used to being ambushed in the middle of the night by a painful leg kick, an elbow to the face or ribs, or wherever Xabi could strike a blow. Luckily, there was an upside to sharing a bed with Xabi in the first place, but big beds were Steven’s salvation.
And this is a massive bed.
Xabi worries that he’ll have to find a new one pretty soon, or that he’ll have to replace the headboard if he doesn’t stop gripping it so hard, he can almost hear the bars ripped apart under his fingers. He’s trying to move his hips, desperately seeking release, but he’s trapped between the mattress and Steven’s body lying across his back. He hisses with every bite on the nape of his neck and gaps with every thrust of Steven’s hips. He’ll be bruised tomorrow, no doubt about it, bluish purple marks on his wrist, neck and waist. Steven is fucking him so hard and he’s loving every minute of being wanted this much.
-“Let me see your face… just let me…,”- Xabi manages to say and Steven stops and lets Xabi turn around and face him.
They share a hard, slow, breathtaking kiss that makes Steven lose all sense of direction. And isn’t until Xabi helpfully wraps his legs around Steven’s waist and starts to move his hips that he slides again inside the Spaniard. He can’t hold it for too much longer, he’s trying, but it’s a losing battle for both of them. He can see it on Xabi’s face and feel it in the frantic movements of his hand which he pushes away to replace with his own in a rhythm as erratic as the movement of his hips. The way Xabi moans his name against his skin makes Steven lose himself completely consumed by the unbelievable pleasure, but he tries to regain some strength and make Xabi come. Not that it takes too much by now, a few flicks of his wrist and Xabi is biting hard into his collarbone, a none too gentle reminder of where he belongs.
He missed this, missed everything… and he can’t avoid saying it any longer.
-“Fuck, I missed you, Xabi… missed you so much…”
It feels like I love you.
-“I know,”- Xabi whispers in his ear, heart in his throat - “I know, me too.”
He wraps his arms tighter against Steven, kisses his cheek, his neck, breathing him. They fall asleep almost instantly, facing each other, Xabi’s arm around Steven waist.
The sunrise is tracing patches of oranges and yellows in the sky.
~.~
The fragment in the beggining belongs to one of my favorites