AU Fic: Domina Cariño (6/?)
Domina Cariño (6/?)
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos
Rating: soft R (overall)
Word count: 1,296
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Summary: This is a story about trust and control, in both love and lust.
Warning: Some parts (not all) may contain minor yet integral BDSM scenes/themes.
He’s in the kitchen, staring at the fridge door covered with all these souvenir magnets of different colors, sizes, and shapes. It’s practically the only thing in the apartment worth looking at. Well, the furnishings are nice, but they all blend into the background in one mass of color and pattern.
Sergio appears to the side and clears his throat. “Uh, would you like to see my room?”
Fernando nods and follows him wordlessly. The room looks just about the same as every other part of the apartment. He glances at the bed, its covers straightened and uncreased.
“What do you think?” Sergio sounds so nervously hopeful beside him, as if he is there to actually see the room.
He shrugs noncommittally and walks over to the bed, running his hand across the covers then abruptly sitting on them. He leans back on his elbows for good measure.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Sergio,” he says lazily, “but everything looks so goddamn boring.”
Sergio blinks at him, then gasps out: “Boring?!”
“I mean, everything’s in the right place. Everything’s all… clean lines and right angles.”
“Well, I like it that way,” Sergio mutters, frowning now.
Fernando watches him as he shifts by the nightstand, perhaps already uneasy with the mess he’s made with the bed. He bites back a smile.
“Actually - and I hate to say this - but you do seem a bit boring yourself,” he says instead.
Sergio’s eyes go wide at this, and his mouth opens, then closes, until finally he sputters out: “I’m not boring!”
Fernando shrugs again and offers what he hopes looks like an apologetic smile. “Maybe not, but you do like everything just so.” And he teases, “I bet you have the same sandwich for lunch every day.”
Sergio huffs indignantly, “There’s nothing wrong with that!”
It’s just a flash of memory, but his flustered expression combined with the askew tie and the strands of hair straying from his ponytail - it reminds Fernando of Sergio pinned under him on the floor of a certain dimly-lit room.
He sits up on the bed then and looks at him square in the eye. “Tell me, Sergio, have you done anything lately that you normally wouldn’t do?”
Sergio frowns at him for a moment until a self-satisfied smile flashes across his face. “That drink, that blue stuff at the club… what was it called?”
“I don’t know - something or the other.”
“Well I don’t drink, but I drank that, didn’t I?” And he seems so very proud of it that Fernando just has to tease him a little bit more.
“But I initiated your drinking, so that shouldn’t count,” he says with a smirk.
“Okay, fine. Fine,” Sergio concedes, stepping forward to get in his face with a smirk of his own. “But then I bring you here, and you’re practically a stranger. I mean, you could be a conman, or a serial killer…”
“Or a sex maniac,” Fernando amusedly offers.
“Yeah.”
They fall silent as they consider each other, only a hand’s grasp apart - Fernando seated on the bed with head slightly tilted up, and Sergio leaning forward right in front of him.
Their knees are almost touching.
“Actually, I asked first to see your place,” Fernando says with a small smile, not breaking the eye contact. Then he leans back again on his elbows, slowly.
“What I’m looking for, Sergio, is something you yourself wouldn’t normally even think of doing. Something… exciting. Something fun.”
A beat, then Sergio finally lunges forward and captures his mouth in a kiss.
Fernando opens his mouth readily, and his hands immediately come up to clutch at the back of Sergio’s neck, bringing him down with him on the bed. Sergio falls on top of him, his hands on either side of him on the bed and one knee between his legs. They deepen the kiss, their tongues almost fighting each other, but then Fernando’s hands slide across Sergio’s shoulders and abruptly push him away, slightly.
“You never kissed a stranger before?” he asks, licking his own bottom lip.
Sergio’s eyes are still clouded from the kiss, but he manages to breathe out, “No, I haven’t.” He leans forward again but Fernando pushes himself up, and him off, until they roll over on the bed and he lands with his back on the mattress.
He grins down and grinds against Sergio. “And you were late coming back to work after lunch, weren’t you?”
Sergio makes a strangled sound and he grabs Fernando’s hips as he says, “Yes, but you didn’t purposely hold me up, did you?”
Fernando offers him a sly smile. “Hmm.”
They kiss again, Sergio guiding his hips and moving with him as they rub against each other. He starts licking at Sergio’s ear and nibbling down his neck, and he feels hands moving under his shirt, lifting it off him.
He leans back to let his shirt be taken off, but Sergio also takes the opportunity to flip him over back onto the bed, and Sergio is once again on top.
“Sergio… ” Fernando begins to whine, but he is cut off with another searing kiss. He can feel Sergio becoming more excited - more animated - above him, his grip tightening and his mouth becoming more aggressive.
A little later, Sergio murmurs against his lips: “If you roll us back over, we’ll fall off the bed.”
Their gazes again lock onto each other, only inches apart. Fernando knows that Sergio is studying him, and he feels that the gaze and the words are almost a challenge.
“Okay,” he says after a while. It’s been a long time. “Okay,” he says again. It’s been a long time since he’s let anyone top him.
Sergio smiles at him then, a glint of something in his eye. Perhaps certain that Fernando will stay put, he moves off him and kneels on the bed, quickly taking off the stuffy clothes he wore straight from the office to the club and back to the apartment.
Fernando watches all this still half lying down, propping himself up with his elbows. He then lets Sergio take off his significantly-less-stuffy clothes.
Both now fully naked, Sergio climbs back on top of him, and Fernando lies back on the mattress below him without protest.
As they kiss again, and grope each other, and move against each other, Fernando tries to rack his brain for why being top was so much better, whether he be the fuckee or the fucker; why he had decided he never liked being bottom, the one who usually reacts to the pace rather than dictates it, the one who usually depends on the other for when he gets his pleasure, the one who gets pinned under.
Then he feels Sergio’s cock sliding in and out of him, filling him up, hitting his prostate, and making him come, and he forgets for a while that he ever saw a difference. But later, long after both of them had come and collapsed side by side on the bed, Sergio already dozing off - and after many attempts at telling himself to get a grip, rein it in, control his emotions - he begins to feel a bit overwhelmed.
Sergio had pulled out of him, pushed the sweaty hair away from his eyes, asked if he was okay, took him to shower, lent him clothes, invited him to bed, tucked him in, kissed him goodnight…
It’s been a long time since he’s let anyone top him. It’s been a long time since he’s let anyone take care of him.
He creeps out of bed in the middle of the night. In order to get out of the apartment, he has to pass through the kitchen. The magnet-covered fridge once again catches his eye.
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos
Rating: soft R (overall)
Word count: 1,296
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Summary: This is a story about trust and control, in both love and lust.
Warning: Some parts (not all) may contain minor yet integral BDSM scenes/themes.
He’s in the kitchen, staring at the fridge door covered with all these souvenir magnets of different colors, sizes, and shapes. It’s practically the only thing in the apartment worth looking at. Well, the furnishings are nice, but they all blend into the background in one mass of color and pattern.
Sergio appears to the side and clears his throat. “Uh, would you like to see my room?”
Fernando nods and follows him wordlessly. The room looks just about the same as every other part of the apartment. He glances at the bed, its covers straightened and uncreased.
“What do you think?” Sergio sounds so nervously hopeful beside him, as if he is there to actually see the room.
He shrugs noncommittally and walks over to the bed, running his hand across the covers then abruptly sitting on them. He leans back on his elbows for good measure.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Sergio,” he says lazily, “but everything looks so goddamn boring.”
Sergio blinks at him, then gasps out: “Boring?!”
“I mean, everything’s in the right place. Everything’s all… clean lines and right angles.”
“Well, I like it that way,” Sergio mutters, frowning now.
Fernando watches him as he shifts by the nightstand, perhaps already uneasy with the mess he’s made with the bed. He bites back a smile.
“Actually - and I hate to say this - but you do seem a bit boring yourself,” he says instead.
Sergio’s eyes go wide at this, and his mouth opens, then closes, until finally he sputters out: “I’m not boring!”
Fernando shrugs again and offers what he hopes looks like an apologetic smile. “Maybe not, but you do like everything just so.” And he teases, “I bet you have the same sandwich for lunch every day.”
Sergio huffs indignantly, “There’s nothing wrong with that!”
It’s just a flash of memory, but his flustered expression combined with the askew tie and the strands of hair straying from his ponytail - it reminds Fernando of Sergio pinned under him on the floor of a certain dimly-lit room.
He sits up on the bed then and looks at him square in the eye. “Tell me, Sergio, have you done anything lately that you normally wouldn’t do?”
Sergio frowns at him for a moment until a self-satisfied smile flashes across his face. “That drink, that blue stuff at the club… what was it called?”
“I don’t know - something or the other.”
“Well I don’t drink, but I drank that, didn’t I?” And he seems so very proud of it that Fernando just has to tease him a little bit more.
“But I initiated your drinking, so that shouldn’t count,” he says with a smirk.
“Okay, fine. Fine,” Sergio concedes, stepping forward to get in his face with a smirk of his own. “But then I bring you here, and you’re practically a stranger. I mean, you could be a conman, or a serial killer…”
“Or a sex maniac,” Fernando amusedly offers.
“Yeah.”
They fall silent as they consider each other, only a hand’s grasp apart - Fernando seated on the bed with head slightly tilted up, and Sergio leaning forward right in front of him.
Their knees are almost touching.
“Actually, I asked first to see your place,” Fernando says with a small smile, not breaking the eye contact. Then he leans back again on his elbows, slowly.
“What I’m looking for, Sergio, is something you yourself wouldn’t normally even think of doing. Something… exciting. Something fun.”
A beat, then Sergio finally lunges forward and captures his mouth in a kiss.
Fernando opens his mouth readily, and his hands immediately come up to clutch at the back of Sergio’s neck, bringing him down with him on the bed. Sergio falls on top of him, his hands on either side of him on the bed and one knee between his legs. They deepen the kiss, their tongues almost fighting each other, but then Fernando’s hands slide across Sergio’s shoulders and abruptly push him away, slightly.
“You never kissed a stranger before?” he asks, licking his own bottom lip.
Sergio’s eyes are still clouded from the kiss, but he manages to breathe out, “No, I haven’t.” He leans forward again but Fernando pushes himself up, and him off, until they roll over on the bed and he lands with his back on the mattress.
He grins down and grinds against Sergio. “And you were late coming back to work after lunch, weren’t you?”
Sergio makes a strangled sound and he grabs Fernando’s hips as he says, “Yes, but you didn’t purposely hold me up, did you?”
Fernando offers him a sly smile. “Hmm.”
They kiss again, Sergio guiding his hips and moving with him as they rub against each other. He starts licking at Sergio’s ear and nibbling down his neck, and he feels hands moving under his shirt, lifting it off him.
He leans back to let his shirt be taken off, but Sergio also takes the opportunity to flip him over back onto the bed, and Sergio is once again on top.
“Sergio… ” Fernando begins to whine, but he is cut off with another searing kiss. He can feel Sergio becoming more excited - more animated - above him, his grip tightening and his mouth becoming more aggressive.
A little later, Sergio murmurs against his lips: “If you roll us back over, we’ll fall off the bed.”
Their gazes again lock onto each other, only inches apart. Fernando knows that Sergio is studying him, and he feels that the gaze and the words are almost a challenge.
“Okay,” he says after a while. It’s been a long time. “Okay,” he says again. It’s been a long time since he’s let anyone top him.
Sergio smiles at him then, a glint of something in his eye. Perhaps certain that Fernando will stay put, he moves off him and kneels on the bed, quickly taking off the stuffy clothes he wore straight from the office to the club and back to the apartment.
Fernando watches all this still half lying down, propping himself up with his elbows. He then lets Sergio take off his significantly-less-stuffy clothes.
Both now fully naked, Sergio climbs back on top of him, and Fernando lies back on the mattress below him without protest.
As they kiss again, and grope each other, and move against each other, Fernando tries to rack his brain for why being top was so much better, whether he be the fuckee or the fucker; why he had decided he never liked being bottom, the one who usually reacts to the pace rather than dictates it, the one who usually depends on the other for when he gets his pleasure, the one who gets pinned under.
Then he feels Sergio’s cock sliding in and out of him, filling him up, hitting his prostate, and making him come, and he forgets for a while that he ever saw a difference. But later, long after both of them had come and collapsed side by side on the bed, Sergio already dozing off - and after many attempts at telling himself to get a grip, rein it in, control his emotions - he begins to feel a bit overwhelmed.
Sergio had pulled out of him, pushed the sweaty hair away from his eyes, asked if he was okay, took him to shower, lent him clothes, invited him to bed, tucked him in, kissed him goodnight…
It’s been a long time since he’s let anyone top him. It’s been a long time since he’s let anyone take care of him.
He creeps out of bed in the middle of the night. In order to get out of the apartment, he has to pass through the kitchen. The magnet-covered fridge once again catches his eye.