nada valgo sin tu amor

Apr 24, 2011 17:58

title nada valgo sin tu amor
rating nc-17
word count 1,772
pairing david silva/david villa, david silva/david villa/adam johnson
summary from a silva/johnson / silva/johnson/villa prompt at touchline. um, i'm not sure exactly where along the line this turned into filthy porn, but i hope this is what you'd wanted!



"If you want to, you can."

David frowns into the phone. "Do you want me to?"

Villa snorts. "No, don't be stupid."

"Then I won't," David says. He shifts to hold the phone against his shoulder and opens the bathroom cabinet, looking for his toothpaste.

"I want you to be happy, though," Villa says. David pauses with his hand on the toothpaste and takes a deep breath. He hears how tight Villa's voice is.

"I am happy," he says. He unscrews the cap of the toothpaste.

It's not a lie. He has a nice house and he gets to wake up every day and play football, which is all he really needs, he sometimes tells him self. It's also not the truth, though, because he has a double bed that's too big for him and when he wakes up to go running in the morning, he goes alone.

"Sure, whatever," Villa grunts. "Just. If you change your mind, let me know."

David takes the toothbrush out of his mouth and spits into the sink. "I won't, but sure," he says.

"Futbol," Adam says. "Soy futbolista."

The thing is that Adam's a nice guy. He's funny, and he took a year of high school Spanish, which means he can translate some basic English for David.

"Mmhmm," David hums. He wobbles a little, standing on one foot, balancing a ball on the other. "You're a futbolista and I'm a footballer."

The trainers call for them to bring it in. David kicks the ball towards the touchline, and Adam slings his arm around David's shoulders as they join their teammates.

"What's your favorite thing about England?"

They're in David's living room playing FIFA. David's losing. He doesn't need a minute to stop and think about the question. "Football," he answers.

"What's your favorite thing about Spain?" Adam asks. On the screen, one of David's defenders goes to ground and gets a yellow card.

"That's a bullshit call," David grumbles. "But, uh." He bites his lip. "Sun. Beaches. Football."

"That's it?" Adam jokes. "Anything else you wanna add to the list?"

David shrugs. "Well. The food."

Adam kicks him gently, then leaves his foot resting near David's thigh. "Nothing else? Who're you always texting after practice? I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn't want to know she's not on your list of favorite things."

"What?" David asks. On the screen, he wins the ball (cleanly, this time) and launches it down the field. "I text Villa after practice."

"Hey, man, I don't judge," Adam says. He knocks their shoulders together as his player scores. "Thought you would've figured that out."

"I kinda did," David shrugs. The game ends- David loses, 3-0. He puts his controller down.

"Okay," Adam says. "Cool." He pokes David with his toes. "I'm gonna take off, but. See you tomorrow?"

They don't have training tomorrow. David nods anyway. "Yeah," he says. "Definitely."

"Awesome." Adam stands up. "See ya." His fingers trail over David's arm as he walks out of the living room. Goosebumps rise on David's skin and he stays seated. Adam lets himself out.

"Come visit," David says. It's more of a demand then a request.

"When? I have training," Villa says.

"I know you do," David tells him. "But, uh. This weekend? You don't have a match, I checked."

"I can do this weekend," Villa says. David hears typing, and he knows Villa's looking for flights. "Why?"

"I miss you," David says, because it's always been easier for him to say it than for him to wait for Villa to say it. "And I want you to meet him."

"Adam."

"Yeah."

"You want me to meet him," Villa says, his voice flat. "Does that mean-?"

"It means I want you to meet him," David says. "And. I mean, I want it- he's a nice guy, right? But not without you."

"Oh," Villa says. "You could've just said."

"Yeah, whatever," David grunts. "Hey, will you bring food? I miss real food."

"They have real food in England, I'm pretty sure," Villa says, but he laughs anyway.

David picks Villa up from the airport and they head back to David's house. Villa puts a bag full of food (pastries from David's favorite bakery as well as some of his mother's cooking) on the counter and David demolishes about half of it before they head upstairs.

As much as David wants it to be three of them, he's glad it's just two tonight. He takes his time with Villa, straddling him and working his way down Villa's body until neither of them have any patience left.

"I'm glad I came," Villa says, after.

"'M glad you did, too," David says. He kicks at the sheets that are bunched up at the end of the bed.

After a minute, Villa starts shifting, so David scoots closer to him. "It can just be us, if you want," David tells him.

"Yeah," Villa says. He turns onto his stomach. One of his arms flops loosely over David's back. "But I told you, if you want to, you can."

"I only want to if you're there, too," David says.

"I know," Villa says. "'s why I'm here."

The next morning, when David wakes up, his bed isn't empty, and when he goes for a run, he harasses Villa into coming with him.

David calls Adam that afternoon.

"Hey, que pasa?" Adam says. David laughs at his accented Spanish.

"Nada, hombre. Wanna come over?"

"Yeah, for sure," Adam says. "When?"

"Whenever," David tells him. Villa elbows him. "Soon. Uh, Villa's here. So you know."

"Villa's there?" Adam repeats. "At yours?"

"Yeah," David says. "We, uh. I wanted him to meet you, and-"

"Hey, okay, yeah," Adam says. "No, man, that's cool. Give me half an hour."

It's awkward at first, because David's bed isn't quite big enough for all of them. Eventually, he settles himself on Villa's lap and they kiss for a while, all teeth and tongue. Adam watches, kneeling behind them, but after a few minutes, David feels Adam's hand join Villa's up the back of his shirt and he shivers for how different they feel against his skin.

Adam tugs at the collar of David's shirt until he and Villa separate enough to take it off. "How do you want this to go?" Adam asks.

David turns to Villa. "I want to suck him," he says, and Villa's eyes go dark with lust. "I want you, too," he adds, even though he knows he doesn't have to.

"Hey, what's going on?" Adam asks. "I didn't catch all of that."

David pops the button of Adam's jeans and starts pushing them down his hips. "Can I suck you?" he asks, even though he already knows the answer from the damp spot on Adam's underwear. He leans forward, sticks his ass out for Villa, and pulls Adam's cock out.

He's wider around than Villa, but slightly shorter. David licks at the head of him experimentally before taking the shaft in his hand and sucking on the head, hollowing his cheeks. Adam's hands come to rest on his shoulders and David can hear him making little grunts as he takes more and more of Adam's cock into his mouth.

Villa works David's pants off of his hips and David nearly chokes in surprise when he feels Villa's tongue prodding at his entrance. He pulls off of Adam to cough for a second.

"Sorry, sorry," Adam pants.

"Not you, him," David says, hooking a thumb behind his shoulder and giving a full body shudder as Villa slides his index finger into his ass along with his tongue.

He grins for the way Adam goes slack-jawed as he opens his eyes and looks behind David to see Villa working him open.

"Is he going to fuck you?" Adam asks breathlessly.

"He'd better," David grunts, twisting his hips back onto Villa's fingers, two of them now.

"Can I-?" Adam starts.

"No," David cuts him off. "Not yet. Sorry. I swallow, though," he offers, and grins at Adam as he lowers his head back to Adam's cock.

He works Adam's cock as far down his throat as he can and stays there for a second, his nose pressed against Adam's navel. Adam's hands rake through his hair and Villa takes his tongue away, holding David open with two fingers as he shucks his own jeans.

Adam spills into David's mouth not long after Villa thrusts into him. David swallows him down and doesn't let Adam shy away as Villa starts to fuck him in earnest. Instead, he braces himself against Adam's torso, his fingernails digging crescents into Adam's chest. Adam runs his hands over the length of David's body and David lets out a groan when Adam finally cups his balls, rolling them in his hand.

"Please," he says, and his voice is so, so wrecked.

Adam strokes him twice before he comes, and David collapses against him, boneless, as Villa finishes, draped over his sweaty back.

"Stay for a bit," David offers, once they've cleaned up. He pulls a t-shirt over his head and heads for the living room.

They play FIFA for a while, the three of them. David puts his feet in Villa's lap and lets his head loll onto Adam's shoulder, and he heats up some of the food Villa brought for dinner.

Villa and Adam don't get along, exactly, but they seem more or less comfortable together. Silva situates himself between them whenever he can, and it works because they both gravitate towards him, anyway.

"So, this was nice," Adam says, standing by the doorway with his hands in his pockets. "Thanks for, uh. Inviting me."

"No problem," David says, his hand tucked in Villa's back pocket. He leans up and brushes a kiss over Adam's lips. "We don't have to do this again, but if you're interested. We can."

"Definitely," Adam says, nodding. David smiles. "If he's okay with it," Adam nods at Villa.

"He wouldn't be here if he wasn't," David tells him. "See you later."

"I can't fly out here whenever you want to fuck him," Villa says later.

"Yeah," David shrugs. He kicks Villa's calve. "Whatever."

"You can do that on your own," Villa says. "Not that it wasn't good."

"I know," David says easily. "I just. For the first time, I wanted you to be here."

Villa's hand cups his hip and his body is cradled between Villa's legs as they watch TV on the couch. David translates what he can for Villa, but mostly it's just there for background noise.

"Thank you," Villa says, and David thinks, yeah, they can make this work.

fic, illa illa illa villa maravilla

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