Captain's Armband
”Come on, Steven. Let me try it!” Xabi pleaded. Staying at Anfield after matches, after everyone else was gone, had become a habit between the two midfielders. At first they had received some knowing and amused looks from the few team mates of theirs that were actually sharp-eyed enough to notice something was going on (mostly Carra, Pepe and Sami), but now everyone had got used to it and no teasing comments were made anymore.
“No, Xabi, I can’t!” Stevie exclaimed.
“It won’t hurt anyone, will it? And no-one will ever even know about it anyway.” With one hand circling Steven’s neck and the other one tugging at the older man’s captain’s armband, he looked at Stevie with the most imploring look in his eyes he could manage.
“I promise I’ll be quick,” he purred against his captain’s ear before nibbling it gently. Steven closed his eyes and shivered a little. He knew he’d give in to Xabi if the Spaniard didn’t stop what he was doing to him immediately. And there was no sign of stopping; instead he felt how the Basque’s hand left the armband in question alone and moved lower, now stroking his side persuasively.
“Come on, Steven, I know you want it too. Just please… Please let me try it,” Xabi continued his begging and smiled when he heard his lover sigh. That was a clear sign for him. There was no way Stevie would refuse his request after that sigh.
“Alright, you can try it, but just this once, I don’t want to get in trouble or anything.”
Xabi grinned and was about to remark something about how unlikely it was that Stevie would get into trouble because of what they were going to do even if someone saw them, but he knew that the armband was very important, almost holy, to the older midfielder, so he kept his mouth shut and watched how the other man carefully took the armband off.
“Xabier Alonso, the captain of Liverpool. I like the sound of it,” Xabi said a few moments later while he looked smilingly at the reflection of himself in the mirror. He couldn’t keep his hands off the thing on his right arm, it felt so nice. Now he knew why Steven liked it so much; it made him look (and feel) immediately more important, more valuable, more significant. He could get used to this look. God only knew how much he wanted to feel all those things, especially after the summer he’d had.
“So, what do you want me to do, captain?” Stevie whispered his question in his lover’s ear as he pressed his tired and still sweaty body, and the obvious bulge that required the other midfielder’s immediate attention, against the Spaniard from behind. When the younger man gave him no answer beside a quiet, lustful moan, he continued.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, soft voiced before turning the Basque around and pressing his lips against the other man’s. He kissed the younger man hungrily, the feeling of desire for the other man , along with the probing tongues and wandering hands, making him do it.
When they broke off and the Basque had caught his breath, he finally answered Steven’s question while grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the showers.
“No, I want to fuck you. Now.”
“God, Xabi, this is going to hurt, isn’t it? We haven’t done it this way in a long time,” Stevie commented nervously as Xabi pushed him roughly against the wall and let the water run down their bodies. They had left their clothes, except the holy (and now wet) armband, behind and Xabi started kissing and sucking his lover’s neck, not really wanting to use any time on teasing foreplay, but to get straight to the point. The reason why he did it nevertheless followed quickly; Stevie couldn’t help but moan when he felt the Spaniard’s tongue touch his burning skin.
“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered. Xabi’s other hand was moving tortuously slow towards his crotch while the other made him groan uncontrollably by giving much needed attention to his hardened nipples. The younger man’s fingers worked expertly on his shaft, making him catch his breath. Having the Spaniard’s wet mouth sucking and licking on his collar bone, whilst the fingers were working him into frenzy, made his orgasm begin to build. A painful, pleasurable, bite on his shoulder made him cry out. The awareness of the pain that was waiting for him didn’t keep him from groaning in eagerness when he felt Xabi’s warm, long fingers against his entrance.
Xabi tried to be as gentle as he could with his lover, but the lack of lubricant made it impossible for him to make it entirely painless for the other man. And so, as he pushed one finger inside Stevie, his lover winced in pain, the expression on his face a tangled mixture of emotions. After a while of careful preparing, having only the slim fingers inside him was becoming unbearable for Steven.
“Fuck, Xabi, I need you to fuck me,” he whined, voice hoarser than usual, and Xabi had no desire to object.
As he pushed himself deeper into the sweet tightness he could feel the man before him shiver in pleasant (he hoped) pain and after a while of slow, gentle pushes Stevie started panting and an occasional moan escaped from his lips. Taking this as a sign to move on, the Spaniard began pushing even faster, deeper, harder, wanting to meet the expectations set by the Scouser. The pace kept quickening, but it wasn’t enough for the man whose arms were supporting them, fists clenched and knuckles whitened.
“Harder, Xabi, fuck me harder.” The Basque almost missed the silent plea, but rewarded the other man by withdrawing almost entirely from the satisfying heat before slamming himself back into the other man, hitting the sweet spot inside Steven with such force that the Scouser screamed in torturing pleasure. Once the groaning Spaniard had repeated his maneuvers almost too many times for him to handle, the older man begged for the sweet release he knew was waiting for him in just a couple of strokes made by his lover’s talented hand.
A low “please, touch me, let me come” had the younger man thrusting even more vigorously into his lover while his right hand, where the soaking arm-band was still in place, reached to stroke the hard erection, that was throbbing in anticipation and ache, found from between his lover’s legs. It didn’t take long after they were both so near the edge that Xabi knew there was only that final push needed. A simultaneous shove and another fierce bite was all it took to get Steven coming all over his hand, shaking and screaming Xabi’s name. The Spaniard was soon to follow.
They stood there, feeling weak in their knees, in silence for a long while and they tried to steady their ragged breathing as they held each other close. It was Steven, who finally spoke out, still bewildered by the Basque’s un-Xabi-like actions.
“Oh, God, Xabi, if that’s what the armband does to you, I’ll definitely let you wear it more often.”
“No, Xabi, I can’t!” Stevie exclaimed.
“It won’t hurt anyone, will it? And no-one will ever even know about it anyway.” With one hand circling Steven’s neck and the other one tugging at the older man’s captain’s armband, he looked at Stevie with the most imploring look in his eyes he could manage.
“I promise I’ll be quick,” he purred against his captain’s ear before nibbling it gently. Steven closed his eyes and shivered a little. He knew he’d give in to Xabi if the Spaniard didn’t stop what he was doing to him immediately. And there was no sign of stopping; instead he felt how the Basque’s hand left the armband in question alone and moved lower, now stroking his side persuasively.
“Come on, Steven, I know you want it too. Just please… Please let me try it,” Xabi continued his begging and smiled when he heard his lover sigh. That was a clear sign for him. There was no way Stevie would refuse his request after that sigh.
“Alright, you can try it, but just this once, I don’t want to get in trouble or anything.”
Xabi grinned and was about to remark something about how unlikely it was that Stevie would get into trouble because of what they were going to do even if someone saw them, but he knew that the armband was very important, almost holy, to the older midfielder, so he kept his mouth shut and watched how the other man carefully took the armband off.
“Xabier Alonso, the captain of Liverpool. I like the sound of it,” Xabi said a few moments later while he looked smilingly at the reflection of himself in the mirror. He couldn’t keep his hands off the thing on his right arm, it felt so nice. Now he knew why Steven liked it so much; it made him look (and feel) immediately more important, more valuable, more significant. He could get used to this look. God only knew how much he wanted to feel all those things, especially after the summer he’d had.
“So, what do you want me to do, captain?” Stevie whispered his question in his lover’s ear as he pressed his tired and still sweaty body, and the obvious bulge that required the other midfielder’s immediate attention, against the Spaniard from behind. When the younger man gave him no answer beside a quiet, lustful moan, he continued.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, soft voiced before turning the Basque around and pressing his lips against the other man’s. He kissed the younger man hungrily, the feeling of desire for the other man , along with the probing tongues and wandering hands, making him do it.
When they broke off and the Basque had caught his breath, he finally answered Steven’s question while grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the showers.
“No, I want to fuck you. Now.”
“God, Xabi, this is going to hurt, isn’t it? We haven’t done it this way in a long time,” Stevie commented nervously as Xabi pushed him roughly against the wall and let the water run down their bodies. They had left their clothes, except the holy (and now wet) armband, behind and Xabi started kissing and sucking his lover’s neck, not really wanting to use any time on teasing foreplay, but to get straight to the point. The reason why he did it nevertheless followed quickly; Stevie couldn’t help but moan when he felt the Spaniard’s tongue touch his burning skin.
“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered. Xabi’s other hand was moving tortuously slow towards his crotch while the other made him groan uncontrollably by giving much needed attention to his hardened nipples. The younger man’s fingers worked expertly on his shaft, making him catch his breath. Having the Spaniard’s wet mouth sucking and licking on his collar bone, whilst the fingers were working him into frenzy, made his orgasm begin to build. A painful, pleasurable, bite on his shoulder made him cry out. The awareness of the pain that was waiting for him didn’t keep him from groaning in eagerness when he felt Xabi’s warm, long fingers against his entrance.
Xabi tried to be as gentle as he could with his lover, but the lack of lubricant made it impossible for him to make it entirely painless for the other man. And so, as he pushed one finger inside Stevie, his lover winced in pain, the expression on his face a tangled mixture of emotions. After a while of careful preparing, having only the slim fingers inside him was becoming unbearable for Steven.
“Fuck, Xabi, I need you to fuck me,” he whined, voice hoarser than usual, and Xabi had no desire to object.
As he pushed himself deeper into the sweet tightness he could feel the man before him shiver in pleasant (he hoped) pain and after a while of slow, gentle pushes Stevie started panting and an occasional moan escaped from his lips. Taking this as a sign to move on, the Spaniard began pushing even faster, deeper, harder, wanting to meet the expectations set by the Scouser. The pace kept quickening, but it wasn’t enough for the man whose arms were supporting them, fists clenched and knuckles whitened.
“Harder, Xabi, fuck me harder.” The Basque almost missed the silent plea, but rewarded the other man by withdrawing almost entirely from the satisfying heat before slamming himself back into the other man, hitting the sweet spot inside Steven with such force that the Scouser screamed in torturing pleasure. Once the groaning Spaniard had repeated his maneuvers almost too many times for him to handle, the older man begged for the sweet release he knew was waiting for him in just a couple of strokes made by his lover’s talented hand.
A low “please, touch me, let me come” had the younger man thrusting even more vigorously into his lover while his right hand, where the soaking arm-band was still in place, reached to stroke the hard erection, that was throbbing in anticipation and ache, found from between his lover’s legs. It didn’t take long after they were both so near the edge that Xabi knew there was only that final push needed. A simultaneous shove and another fierce bite was all it took to get Steven coming all over his hand, shaking and screaming Xabi’s name. The Spaniard was soon to follow.
They stood there, feeling weak in their knees, in silence for a long while and they tried to steady their ragged breathing as they held each other close. It was Steven, who finally spoke out, still bewildered by the Basque’s un-Xabi-like actions.
“Oh, God, Xabi, if that’s what the armband does to you, I’ll definitely let you wear it more often.”