Afraid of Losing You
Title: Afraid of Losing You
Author: Salmiaggi
Rating: PG
Paring: Steven Gerrard/Xabier Alonso
Genre: Fluff and romance with hint of angst
Summary: I get so scared when we step onto that pitch.
Wordcount: 543
Disclaimer: You think this is really happening? Me either.
Author’s Notes: Got baby plot bunnies from the Everton match. This is what happened. And I do realise that almost all of my fics are set in the changing rooms.
Feedback: Sí, por favor! I love it! C: And definitely need it!
Steven watched, already fully clothed and ready to go, as his lover emerged from the showers. As usual, they were the only ones left in the deserted changing room, all the other players already gone. The Scouser noted, with fascination, that the scene before him was like straight from a movie; the air around his lover’s still wet body was filled with steam, the red towel was wrapped loosely around the Basque’s slim waist, covering all the critical places, but not nearly enough; only the sight of his lover’s bare chest, its dark hair and the firm abs left him breathless and wanting. Xabi obviously didn’t realise, or chose to ignore, what kind of distress the view made the Scouser feel, for he said nothing, just started to get dressed.
Steven did respect Xabi for being able to understand him and how he felt. How important the game had been and how disappointed he felt for loosing those crucial two points. But this time it wasn’t the point-dropping that agonised him. And therefore he did not need this respectful silence his lover was keeping up or that polite distance that had formed between them. He couldn’t stop his mind from re-enacting the picture of Xabi on the ground, pain written all over his face.
“Xabi…” Steven’s voice was low and so full of emotion that it made the Spaniard turn around to see his lover’s face in a record time. His face fell as he saw Steven’s worried expression.
“Come here,” the Scouser whispered. It wasn’t a command, or a request. It was a plea, anxious and serious. Xabi walked over to him and as he did, Steven took him into his arms and immediately pulled him as close as he could, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder, nuzzling his nose up to Xabi’s neck.
“What is wrong, amor?” Xabi asked after a while, for Steven had not said a word.
“I get so scared when we step onto that pitch. And it’s not about losing points or anything. You make me scared out there. I cannot protect you when we’re playing.” It was a silent confession, one that made Xabi feel speechless, for he had not seen this coming.
“But there’s no need for protection. I can take care of myself,” Xabi managed to mutter, reassuringly, although he knew there was a reason for Steven being worried.
“When you lie there in pain, I’m afraid of losing you. I can’t lose you, Xabi.” A rush of overwhelming feeling of love and fear brought Steven on the verge of tears, but he couldn’t cry, he hadn’t cried in years.
“You won’t lose me,” Xabi assured his lover, stroking his back gently, kissing his temples.
“I can’t…” Steven repeated silently and turned so he could kiss Xabi gently, wanting to show his love to the Basque the best way he could. When they broke off, the Englishman placed a kiss in the corner of Xabi’s eye, on the sore side of his head.
“Does it hurt?” He asked softly, still holding on to the midfielder.
“No, not so much anymore. It is throbbing a bit, though.” Xabi answered with a wink.
“I can assure you, it’s not the only thing throbbing here…”
Author: Salmiaggi
Rating: PG
Paring: Steven Gerrard/Xabier Alonso
Genre: Fluff and romance with hint of angst
Summary: I get so scared when we step onto that pitch.
Wordcount: 543
Disclaimer: You think this is really happening? Me either.
Author’s Notes: Got baby plot bunnies from the Everton match. This is what happened. And I do realise that almost all of my fics are set in the changing rooms.
Feedback: Sí, por favor! I love it! C: And definitely need it!
Steven watched, already fully clothed and ready to go, as his lover emerged from the showers. As usual, they were the only ones left in the deserted changing room, all the other players already gone. The Scouser noted, with fascination, that the scene before him was like straight from a movie; the air around his lover’s still wet body was filled with steam, the red towel was wrapped loosely around the Basque’s slim waist, covering all the critical places, but not nearly enough; only the sight of his lover’s bare chest, its dark hair and the firm abs left him breathless and wanting. Xabi obviously didn’t realise, or chose to ignore, what kind of distress the view made the Scouser feel, for he said nothing, just started to get dressed.
Steven did respect Xabi for being able to understand him and how he felt. How important the game had been and how disappointed he felt for loosing those crucial two points. But this time it wasn’t the point-dropping that agonised him. And therefore he did not need this respectful silence his lover was keeping up or that polite distance that had formed between them. He couldn’t stop his mind from re-enacting the picture of Xabi on the ground, pain written all over his face.
“Xabi…” Steven’s voice was low and so full of emotion that it made the Spaniard turn around to see his lover’s face in a record time. His face fell as he saw Steven’s worried expression.
“Come here,” the Scouser whispered. It wasn’t a command, or a request. It was a plea, anxious and serious. Xabi walked over to him and as he did, Steven took him into his arms and immediately pulled him as close as he could, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder, nuzzling his nose up to Xabi’s neck.
“What is wrong, amor?” Xabi asked after a while, for Steven had not said a word.
“I get so scared when we step onto that pitch. And it’s not about losing points or anything. You make me scared out there. I cannot protect you when we’re playing.” It was a silent confession, one that made Xabi feel speechless, for he had not seen this coming.
“But there’s no need for protection. I can take care of myself,” Xabi managed to mutter, reassuringly, although he knew there was a reason for Steven being worried.
“When you lie there in pain, I’m afraid of losing you. I can’t lose you, Xabi.” A rush of overwhelming feeling of love and fear brought Steven on the verge of tears, but he couldn’t cry, he hadn’t cried in years.
“You won’t lose me,” Xabi assured his lover, stroking his back gently, kissing his temples.
“I can’t…” Steven repeated silently and turned so he could kiss Xabi gently, wanting to show his love to the Basque the best way he could. When they broke off, the Englishman placed a kiss in the corner of Xabi’s eye, on the sore side of his head.
“Does it hurt?” He asked softly, still holding on to the midfielder.
“No, not so much anymore. It is throbbing a bit, though.” Xabi answered with a wink.
“I can assure you, it’s not the only thing throbbing here…”