lessons: on juxtaposition
Title: On Juxtaposition
Pairing: Sergio Ramos/David Beckham
Rating: R
Sergio feels dizzy because he’s had a little too much to drink and it’s noisy and overwhelming but it’s also alright fine okay; they are celebrating, packed tightly into a private room in the back of a club-the club, the one with dim lights and molten floors, where all the stars are seen and they should really know to be more careful than that but they don’t care, with girls on their laps and drinks in their hands, and he doesn’t care, with David Beckham’s hand on his thigh and it’s just insidiously teasing.
Sergio feels dizzy because David Beckham’s lips are against his ear now, in front of their teammates and ever so hidden at the same time, whispering dirty desires and nibbling something nasty; and he realizes that maybe it only seems like so because he’s not entirely sober and neither is David Beckham so it’s alright fine okay, excusable when they excuse themselves from los blancos todosomethingorother and nobody really cares what because nobody hears them over the loud Reggaetón (shrill giggles) anyway.
Sergio feels dizzy because they fall all over each other, are all over each other, but manage to find their way to an empty room and he isn’t bothered to find out what kind of a room it is or what right they have to be there because it’s David fucking Beckham and he’s fucking David Beckham-then it’s David Beckham fucking him and he begins to think that those three words, like their positions, like hands and tongues, are interchangeable but please not intermittent, he begs, gasping don’t stop don’t stop don’t think I can take it.
And David Beckham grins-fucking grins-says alright fine okay and Sergio just feels dizzy.
Pairing: Sergio Ramos/David Beckham
Rating: R
Sergio feels dizzy because he’s had a little too much to drink and it’s noisy and overwhelming but it’s also alright fine okay; they are celebrating, packed tightly into a private room in the back of a club-the club, the one with dim lights and molten floors, where all the stars are seen and they should really know to be more careful than that but they don’t care, with girls on their laps and drinks in their hands, and he doesn’t care, with David Beckham’s hand on his thigh and it’s just insidiously teasing.
Sergio feels dizzy because David Beckham’s lips are against his ear now, in front of their teammates and ever so hidden at the same time, whispering dirty desires and nibbling something nasty; and he realizes that maybe it only seems like so because he’s not entirely sober and neither is David Beckham so it’s alright fine okay, excusable when they excuse themselves from los blancos todosomethingorother and nobody really cares what because nobody hears them over the loud Reggaetón (shrill giggles) anyway.
Sergio feels dizzy because they fall all over each other, are all over each other, but manage to find their way to an empty room and he isn’t bothered to find out what kind of a room it is or what right they have to be there because it’s David fucking Beckham and he’s fucking David Beckham-then it’s David Beckham fucking him and he begins to think that those three words, like their positions, like hands and tongues, are interchangeable but please not intermittent, he begs, gasping don’t stop don’t stop don’t think I can take it.
And David Beckham grins-fucking grins-says alright fine okay and Sergio just feels dizzy.