confessionals (1/?)
For pendules.
Title: Confessionals (1/?)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ricardo Kakà/Andriy Shevchenko/Íker Casillas/David Beckham/Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso
Disclaimer: Fiction, incredibly.
Summary: This is the true story of seven six (almost-but-not-really) strangers picked to live in a house, work together, and have their lives taped to find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real kinky real... The Real World: AU.
i.
I wish I had not been caught up in this, but one Íker Casillas is irresistible when he wants to be. He says let’s sign up for this, Xabi and I say let’s not, Íker but then he does that thing with his tongue and I’m sold.
It is not so terrible here though. The sort-of-but-not-really Italian guys mostly stick to themselves-which has me wondering why they’re here at all, really-and, even then, they don’t do much. The younger, dark-haired one often reads his Bible when we’re not doing group things while the older, fair-haired one seems to like to sit and watch him. Sometimes they speak softly to each other in their own second language, each with his respective accented loveliness, and sometimes Íker is frustrated that he doesn’t understand them, but they look so private, so whole that none of us dare to interrupt for fear of breaking an unspoken incantation.
ii.
One of the English lads has his eyes on Xabi.
Which is okay, of course, because we have already made it clear that we are here to have fun and what happens in the House, stays in the House but there’s just something about this one that I don’t like. I think it might be his accent; damn English is hard enough to understand without all that jargon of his.
But his amigo-well, he’s a bit pretty, isn’t he?
iii.
Oldest in the house. I feel almost fatherly to-
“-motherly-”
-Stevie, get out! It’s my turn.
iv.
My turn.
Actually, I don’t have nothing to say; was just taking the piss with Becks, bullying him a bit-I don’t mean nothing by it. He’s a good guy, likes to look out for me and stuff. S’why he agreed to do this thing with me when I said I was going to sign up-well, that and I think he was looking forward to redecorating and organizing this place; we’ve only been here for some days and he’s already about a third done. Yeah, he’s an interesting one.
Speaking of interesting, I guess, we’ve got a couple of odd blokes here. Some Bible-boy and his husband or something, you’d think with the way they act-and the Spanish fellas. Don’t know why, but one keeps looking at me all funny and the other-well...he’s kinder. Real nice, actually, and friendly-came up and introduced himself and his friend to us and he got an honest, firm shake on him-I like that, honesty, got no time for any other shit and-anyway...well, he’s decent. Real decent.
v.
Confess what?
And what is this reality?
vi.
“He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defense; I shall not be moved.”
Title: Confessionals (1/?)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ricardo Kakà/Andriy Shevchenko/Íker Casillas/David Beckham/Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso
Disclaimer: Fiction, incredibly.
Summary: This is the true story of seven six (almost-but-not-really) strangers picked to live in a house, work together, and have their lives taped to find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real kinky real... The Real World: AU.
i.
I wish I had not been caught up in this, but one Íker Casillas is irresistible when he wants to be. He says let’s sign up for this, Xabi and I say let’s not, Íker but then he does that thing with his tongue and I’m sold.
It is not so terrible here though. The sort-of-but-not-really Italian guys mostly stick to themselves-which has me wondering why they’re here at all, really-and, even then, they don’t do much. The younger, dark-haired one often reads his Bible when we’re not doing group things while the older, fair-haired one seems to like to sit and watch him. Sometimes they speak softly to each other in their own second language, each with his respective accented loveliness, and sometimes Íker is frustrated that he doesn’t understand them, but they look so private, so whole that none of us dare to interrupt for fear of breaking an unspoken incantation.
ii.
One of the English lads has his eyes on Xabi.
Which is okay, of course, because we have already made it clear that we are here to have fun and what happens in the House, stays in the House but there’s just something about this one that I don’t like. I think it might be his accent; damn English is hard enough to understand without all that jargon of his.
But his amigo-well, he’s a bit pretty, isn’t he?
iii.
Oldest in the house. I feel almost fatherly to-
“-motherly-”
-Stevie, get out! It’s my turn.
iv.
My turn.
Actually, I don’t have nothing to say; was just taking the piss with Becks, bullying him a bit-I don’t mean nothing by it. He’s a good guy, likes to look out for me and stuff. S’why he agreed to do this thing with me when I said I was going to sign up-well, that and I think he was looking forward to redecorating and organizing this place; we’ve only been here for some days and he’s already about a third done. Yeah, he’s an interesting one.
Speaking of interesting, I guess, we’ve got a couple of odd blokes here. Some Bible-boy and his husband or something, you’d think with the way they act-and the Spanish fellas. Don’t know why, but one keeps looking at me all funny and the other-well...he’s kinder. Real nice, actually, and friendly-came up and introduced himself and his friend to us and he got an honest, firm shake on him-I like that, honesty, got no time for any other shit and-anyway...well, he’s decent. Real decent.
v.
Confess what?
And what is this reality?
vi.
“He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defense; I shall not be moved.”