caution; six drabbles
Title: Addiction
Pairing: Alessandro Nesta/Zlatan Ibrahimović
Rating: R
“This is the last time,” he says and the door is noisy when it closes behind them. Zlatan barely gives him a nod-doesn’t look in his eyes-and concentrates on the bulge in his pants that gives all away.
“I mean it,” he insists, fingers digging into his lover’s hips and the back of his knees have found the bed. Clothes come off and grace the floor and there is pleasure, there is pain and there isn’t one without knowing the other.
“I mean it,” he repeats afterward and he’s been repeating it for as long as he remembers.
Title: Call
Pairing: Sergio Ramos/Fernando Torres, Xabi Alonso
Rating: G
“¿Hola?” There’s a silence on the other end of the line that he recognizes as hesitance. “Hello?” he encourages.
“Xabi.”
The midfielder frowns, uncertain. “…¿Sergio?”
“Sí.”
“¡Oye! ¿Que tal?” This is a surprise, Xabi thinks, for Sergio to call him during the holidays-to call him at all, actually, as they have never been close. Xabi has always been slightly reserved towards the younger man’s…eccentricity.
A pause. Then-“I want you to take care of him.”
“What? Who?” The breathy response intrigues him; Sergio, however, seems intent on letting him figure it out later.
“And tell them he’s mine.”
Click.
Title: Eighteen Months
Pairing: N/A; Character is Michael Bradley
Rating: G
Michael thinks his heart is pumping harder than ever the moment he hears the whistle’s high pitch and the ref is making his way over, a hand reaching inside his pocket. He realizes that he had gone into the challenge with a little too much enthusiasm-but that’s just it, and they need his effort right now. They…the other ten on the field and then some more on the bench. They’ve been with each other for so long now; just a while longer-they deserve it. And he doesn’t deserve this. Yellow, the decision is made, and that’s just it.
Title: Games
Pairing: Fernando Gago/Gonzalo Higuaín
Rating: R
“Uh-uh,” Fernando denies, slapping Gonzalo’s hands away then grasping his wrists to pin them overhead. He wriggles seductively, leans in and says with a teasing smile against his friend’s lips, “remember the rules?”
Gonzalo squirms, groaning, “Can’t-even-remember-my-ohh!-name.” Remember yours though: Fuck you, Gago.
-
They have weekly games. It started innocently enough-poker night with the boys or a bet on the weekend’s match. Somehow they’ve become more and more private, however, and…well, it’s Fernando’s turn to play host tonight.
-
“Pipita,” Fernando whispers triumphantly, “and we agreed: you can look but you can’t touch.”
Title: Half Time
Pairing: Sal Zizzo/Tony Beltran
Rating: G
“1-1 is okay, boys,” Thomas says during half time while some exchange their rain-soaked shirts for dry ones and others simply listen intently. “They’re seeing more of the ball than we are though, so get in it, push forward and mind the turf. The rain should be letting up now; we…”
Tony allows his attention to drift off mid-instruction, an odd look on his face, and all are too busy to notice-all except for Sal, who glances over as he pulls on a fresh jersey then reaches out to give his roommate’s hand a squeeze.
“Goal wasn’t your fault.”
Title: Slip
Pairing: Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso
Rating: R
“Ow…careful!” Stevie yelps, turning his head to see what’s going on back there and why it hurts so much-usually Xabi’s much gentler.
“I’m not doing anything differently,” the Spaniard replies, smoothing out Stevie’s lower back with his palms as he continues the massage. “You’re just getting old.”
“Am not!”
“You slipped!”
Stevie turns around completely, looking pained. “I didn’t see the sign!” A brief indignant glance downward-then he breaks a smile.
“What?”
“Remembered the sign…its irony,” Stevie explains with a silly grin, moving Xabi’s hands to his cock. “A whole new meaning to ‘slippery when wet’, isn’t it?”
Pairing: Alessandro Nesta/Zlatan Ibrahimović
Rating: R
“This is the last time,” he says and the door is noisy when it closes behind them. Zlatan barely gives him a nod-doesn’t look in his eyes-and concentrates on the bulge in his pants that gives all away.
“I mean it,” he insists, fingers digging into his lover’s hips and the back of his knees have found the bed. Clothes come off and grace the floor and there is pleasure, there is pain and there isn’t one without knowing the other.
“I mean it,” he repeats afterward and he’s been repeating it for as long as he remembers.
Title: Call
Pairing: Sergio Ramos/Fernando Torres, Xabi Alonso
Rating: G
“¿Hola?” There’s a silence on the other end of the line that he recognizes as hesitance. “Hello?” he encourages.
“Xabi.”
The midfielder frowns, uncertain. “…¿Sergio?”
“Sí.”
“¡Oye! ¿Que tal?” This is a surprise, Xabi thinks, for Sergio to call him during the holidays-to call him at all, actually, as they have never been close. Xabi has always been slightly reserved towards the younger man’s…eccentricity.
A pause. Then-“I want you to take care of him.”
“What? Who?” The breathy response intrigues him; Sergio, however, seems intent on letting him figure it out later.
“And tell them he’s mine.”
Click.
Title: Eighteen Months
Pairing: N/A; Character is Michael Bradley
Rating: G
Michael thinks his heart is pumping harder than ever the moment he hears the whistle’s high pitch and the ref is making his way over, a hand reaching inside his pocket. He realizes that he had gone into the challenge with a little too much enthusiasm-but that’s just it, and they need his effort right now. They…the other ten on the field and then some more on the bench. They’ve been with each other for so long now; just a while longer-they deserve it. And he doesn’t deserve this. Yellow, the decision is made, and that’s just it.
Title: Games
Pairing: Fernando Gago/Gonzalo Higuaín
Rating: R
“Uh-uh,” Fernando denies, slapping Gonzalo’s hands away then grasping his wrists to pin them overhead. He wriggles seductively, leans in and says with a teasing smile against his friend’s lips, “remember the rules?”
Gonzalo squirms, groaning, “Can’t-even-remember-my-ohh!-name.” Remember yours though: Fuck you, Gago.
-
They have weekly games. It started innocently enough-poker night with the boys or a bet on the weekend’s match. Somehow they’ve become more and more private, however, and…well, it’s Fernando’s turn to play host tonight.
-
“Pipita,” Fernando whispers triumphantly, “and we agreed: you can look but you can’t touch.”
Title: Half Time
Pairing: Sal Zizzo/Tony Beltran
Rating: G
“1-1 is okay, boys,” Thomas says during half time while some exchange their rain-soaked shirts for dry ones and others simply listen intently. “They’re seeing more of the ball than we are though, so get in it, push forward and mind the turf. The rain should be letting up now; we…”
Tony allows his attention to drift off mid-instruction, an odd look on his face, and all are too busy to notice-all except for Sal, who glances over as he pulls on a fresh jersey then reaches out to give his roommate’s hand a squeeze.
“Goal wasn’t your fault.”
Title: Slip
Pairing: Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso
Rating: R
“Ow…careful!” Stevie yelps, turning his head to see what’s going on back there and why it hurts so much-usually Xabi’s much gentler.
“I’m not doing anything differently,” the Spaniard replies, smoothing out Stevie’s lower back with his palms as he continues the massage. “You’re just getting old.”
“Am not!”
“You slipped!”
Stevie turns around completely, looking pained. “I didn’t see the sign!” A brief indignant glance downward-then he breaks a smile.
“What?”
“Remembered the sign…its irony,” Stevie explains with a silly grin, moving Xabi’s hands to his cock. “A whole new meaning to ‘slippery when wet’, isn’t it?”