For indecencia
Title: Rotation
Characters: Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso, Fernando Torres/Xabi Alonso, Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger, Mikel Arteta, Steve Finnan
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is all fiction, so don’t sue me.
A/N: A bit of smut, angst and fluff.
Recipient: indecencia
“Oh, hi, Xabi-” Fernando greeted as he opened the door to his house, but he was cut off as Xabi pushed past the entrance and abruptly grabbed the striker into a kiss. Fernando’s eyes widened in shock, struggling to pull away and protesting into their liplock, but Xabi wasn’t listening.
When Xabi finally let him go, Fernando staggered back, aghast. But before he could even open his mouth to speak, a figure emerged from the living room, smirking.
“So, does he always come here and demand sex like that?”
Xabi and Fernando froze.
“Er, Xabi,” Fernando ran his hands through his hair self-consciously, “Mikel Arteta dropped by.”
Xabi shook his head in disbelief. “Mikel, could you excuse us for a moment?” He didn’t even wait for a reply. He merely grabbed Fernando by the arm and dragged him into the kitchen where they could have some privacy.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Fernando demanded in a hush, wriggling away from Xabi’s grasp.
Xabi rolled his hands into fists, “I asked Stevie if we could spend Christmas together. He said he couldn’t because he had to spend time with his family. Understandable, right? I asked him if we could hang out on Christmas Eve instead. He still says no. I asked him if his ultimately important schedule could accommodate me on the 21st, the 22nd, the 23rd, hell, even on the 26th and 27th. Have our own fucking Christmas and all. Guess what he says? The holidays are just for his family.”
Fernando blinked dumbly, wondered if he was expected to understand this.
“As if I didn’t have a family either. Nagore is pregnant with my first child, but I can still make time for him! All I’m asking for is one day, and he can’t even stand up to Alex to do that.” Xabi finished bitterly, “I hate him.”
“Wait, wait,” Fernando cocked his head to the side, “So, you kissed me because you hate Steven Gerrard?”
Xabi shrugged nonchalantly. “Yes.”
Fernando’s jaw dropped.
“It’s not like it’s our first time.” Xabi rolled his eyes. Fernando blushed. It was an unspoken arrangement.
“Why is Arteta here?” Xabi asked in a seemingly off-handed tone.
“I invited him over,” Fernando said innocently. He pushed himself up to sit on the marble counter. “We were going to play board games.”
“Right,” Xabi smirked, eyeing Fernando from head to toe. “Dressed like that you’re not.” The boy was wearing one of his nicer shirts and tighter jeans. Suspiciously come-hither for an innocent night at home.
“I’m not-”
“You wanted to get him to fuck you!” Xabi accused, laughing.
“Yeah, and I would have been more successful if you hadn’t barged in here.”
“Why Arteta?” Xabi raised an eyebrow. Mikel had been dropping by Fernando’s house for months; it seemed strange that the striker was only pursuing him now.
Fernando threw back his head, before finally confessing. “Apparently, Daniel’s been pursuing Finns all this time.”
Xabi approached the striker perched on the counter, patting his leg in comfort, “You know Dan can get a bit dense.”
“Or insensitive,” Fernando corrected, indignant.
“So, you wanted to fuck Arteta to get back at Daniel?”
“Well, in general, I just wanted to work off my anger.” Fernando shrugged. “But, revenge would definitely be a bonus.”
Xabi slowly rubbed his hands up and down the rough material of Fernando’s jeans, the striker, in turn, watching his every move with bated breath.
“You know,” Xabi spoke huskily, “You could send Arteta home now.” He gently pushed Fernando’s legs apart and nestled in between them. He pressed in close, whispering to the striker’s ear, “Besides, what can he do that I can’t do better?”
*
“Mikel,” Fernando called out, tumbling out of the kitchen a few minutes after. Mikel looked up from the magazine he was reading. “I was wondering when you’d come back.”
“I know I invited you over for a quiet night-in, but,” Fernando paused, “Something came up.”
Mikel stood up slowly, “You look a bit hot and bothered.”
Fernando shifted uneasily but couldn’t come up with anything to say. Mikel laughed, gathering his things. “And Xabi?”
Fernando dismissed the topic as quickly as possible, “Oh, Xabi just has a problem and we need to talk about it.”
Mikel nodded, making his way to the door. “Right, have fun... talking?”
The striker blushed a bright red. “I’ll see you.”
The moment the door closed, Fernando let out a sigh of relief. But before he could even settle, Xabi pushed him against the wall, face first, without warning. His heart pounded dangerously, as he felt Xabi’s arms loop around his waist and deftly working at his belt immediately. He could already feel the midfielder’s growing erection press against his behind.
“Xabi, wait,” Fernando said breathlessly, disoriented.
“What? It took you long enough sending Arteta away,” Xabi said, pressing a kiss to the striker’s neck. Fernando gasped as Xabi roughly pushed down his jeans down his thighs. Xabi dropped to his knees, hands gripping at Fernando’s hips to hold them steady. The striker craned his neck back, trying to see what Xabi was up to, but he couldn’t catch a slight glimpse. The next thing he knew, he was moaning softly as Xabi’s tongue ran tantalizingly slow down his back, tracing his vertebra.
Xabi grabbed Fernando’s butt cheeks, kneading it under his fingers. Fernando shuddered convulsively as he felt Xabi’s hot breath and even hotter tongue run down his crack, before licking at his hole, digging in persistently. The midfielder reached between the younger man’s legs and grabbed hold of the hardening length, gripping tightly and moving quickly. He pumped him in synch to his tongue-thrusting, Fernando groaning his name over and over again until he came messily in Xabi’s hand.
“You came to soon,” Xabi teased, as Fernando collapsed on the floor beside him. Fernando scowled tiredly, “It’s not like you gave me a moment of rest.”
“That was just a preview,” Xabi said, the dark look returning to his eyes, watching as Fernando pulled up his jeans.
Fernando leaned against the wall, still dazed. “Are you sure about this?”
“What, you want to remain the trustworthy, loyal boyfriend to Daniel?” Xabi sniped sardonically. “Oh, wait. Are you even together?”
Fernando glowered. “Fuck you.”
Xabi shrugged nonchalantly. He knew it was a cheap trick, but he was angry and frustrated and he needed release. He stood up and made his way up the stairs.
“Whatever you want, Nando. When you finally come to your senses, I’ll be in your bedroom.”
*
Xabi opened his eyes lazily as he heard the bedroom door slam closed. Fernando glared at the midfielder, already lying down on the bed in his underwear.
“You’re manipulative,” Fernando muttered, tugging his shirt off and throwing it to the side.
“Yes, and that would make you impressionable,” Xabi smirked, watching as Fernando pushed down his jeans and kicked them off, standing in front of him in his underwear, already stained after his first orgasm.
Fernando shook his head angrily and joined Xabi in bed, forcefully yanking him close into a kiss: teeth clashing, biting a little too hard, close to drawing blood. Xabi groaned, tugging Fernando closer, pressing their lips together even more. The striker’s nails ran down Xabi’s back, drawing clean red lines in the skin. It was forceful, angry, just like all the times they were together. They didn’t mean to be rough. It was just the circumstances that drew them together. Like when Fernando had knocked on his hotel room during a summer national team call-up. Sergio had finally broken up with him and he was devastated. Xabi had been moping because Stevie hadn’t been talking to him, still heartbroken over the Champions League defeat. Fernando had cried to him all night. Xabi’s guts were in a tight knot, both from his own problems and the young striker’s. They had sex that night: the confused, angry sex of two people finding solace and comfort in one another.
This time, it was Xabi who needed Fernando.
Fernando sucked on his nipple avidly as Xabi rocked against his hips wildly. He ripped down his own underwear, then Fernando’s, aligning their erections now. He dug his hips down again, creating friction, making both of them shiver.
“Second drawer,” Fernando instructed breathlessly. Xabi stretched out to open the compartment, pulling out some lube and a condom. He put on the rubber easily, Fernando watching in anticipation, jacking himself off as Xabi lubed up his fingers. Xabi smiled and pressed a kiss to the striker’s temple, “Relax.” Fernando nodded obediently, bucking his hips impatiently against Xabi’s hand.
The midfielder fondled the pucker, smiling teasingly as Fernando glared at him. He pressed in his index finger, slowly at first as Fernando’s hole tightened, but it soon slid in easily. Fernando’s breathing was becoming quicker now, feeling the second finger pushing in as well. He made quick, scissoring motions, and Fernando writhed wantonly beneath him.
Xabi withdrew his fingers and for a moment, there was no thought of Daniel as Fernando opened his legs wider, lifting them around Xabi’s waist. He eased in his cock, watching Fernando’s expression change from one in pain to one in the throes of passion. He loved fucking Fernando on his back, just because he liked seeing his face.
“Deeper,” Fernando moaned, as Xabi started thrusting against him, plunging in again and again. “I need you deeper.”
Xabi pulled out, earning a cry of protest from the striker. “Fuck yourself on me.”
He laid down on his back and watched as Fernando climbed up to straddle him. He held Xabi’s length in one hand and guided it into his hole, slowly impaling himself on it. Xabi swore he could come there and then at the sight. Fernando rolled his hips teasingly, Xabi groaning at the tightness enveloping his cock and the tingling that movement sent.
“Move,” Xabi commanded, and Fernando dutifully pulled out, before slamming himself against him once more. The bed creaked harshly underneath them as they moved in a frenzied rhythm, both in pursuit of their release. Fernando cried out Xabi’s name over and over again, helplessly moving his lower body up and down, hard and furious, the sound of their joining echoing loudly in the quiet room.
“I’m coming,” Fernando gasped, as the head of Xabi’s cock pounded relentlessly against his prostate. His movement was erratic now, and when Xabi grabbed a hold of his cock and jerked it roughly, his senses spiralled madly. With a final groan, he came-his hole tightening abruptly at the orgasm, sending Xabi coming just a few moments after him.
They collapsed in a heap, tangled in the sheets. The bedroom was quiet now, save for their laboured breathing. Xabi tucked Fernando’s damp blond hair behind his ears. Fernando opened his eyes languidly, “Do you feel better now?” Xabi smiled tiredly and nodded.
*
Xabi stirred from his sleep at the persistent ringing. He rubbed his eyes and saw Fernando bending over his discarded clothes looking for his mobile.
“Hello?” Fernando answered the call, crawling back into bed with Xabi. The latter grinned, seeing the striker wince with every move of his tender, aching body. Fernando smiled back, nuzzling into his arms, phone still pressed to his ear.
“I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk,” Fernando said.
“Is that Daniel?” Xabi asked. Fernando nodded.
“Yeah, that was Xabi. What? Nothing, he just came over.” Fernando replied. “Oh, and what do you care? Aren’t you supposed to be with Stephen now?” Xabi snickered.
After a while, Fernando ended the call and dropped the phone carelessly on his night table.
“He’s coming over,” Fernando muttered, a deep frown line furrowing in his forehead.
Xabi grinned, “Do you want me to greet him at the door in my boxers? It’ll drive him crazy.”
Fernando laughed, “Yes.”
“Come on then, let’s get cleaned up,” Xabi said, sitting up and pulling Fernando into the bathroom with him.
*
“It’s so nice of Fernando and Olalla to have us over for Christmas!” Nagore exclaimed happily, stepping out of their car.
Xabi took her gloved hand as they made their way to the front door, “Yeah, I think it’s his way of settling in. Pepe, Alvaro and Mikel are here too.”
However, when they knocked on the door, they were greeted by a very non-Spanish person.
“Xabi! Happy holidays. And you must be Nagore. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Nagore smiled as Xabi introduced them, “Nagore, this is Daniel, our teammate.”
They moved inside, Nagore immediately making a beeline for the host of wives and girlfriends huddled by the Christmas tree.
Xabi smiled at Dan wryly, “So, you came.”
Dan shrugged embarrassedly, “I promised Fernando I would drop by for a while before I had Christmas dinner with my family.”
“Wow,” Xabi appraised, “Is this a gesture of commitment?”
Daniel blushed now, “I don’t know. I’m not really good at these things. But, I’m working on it.”
“Well, my advice is simple: Don’t date Finns and Fernando at the same time.”
“I know,” Daniel laughed. He paused, and the midfielder looked at him expectantly.
“I know we’re not yet together, but when we are,” Daniel slung an arm around Xabi’s shoulders, “If I catch you sleeping with Fernando again, I’m going to kill you.”
Xabi laughed, “Don’t worry.”
They walked in to join the others in the living room, decorated grandly by Olalla no doubt.
“Are you feeling out of place with the Spanish crowd?” Xabi asked.
“Nah, not really. Stevie’s here anyway.”
Xabi froze. “W-what?”
Daniel looked at him in confusion. “Yeah, Stevie and his family arrived an hour ago. He was looking for you the last time I saw him.”
Xabi didn’t even say goodbye to Daniel. All he knew was he was in autopilot. His feet were taking him around Fernando’s house, poking his head in every room to check where the Scouser was. Finally, he saw the captain in the foyer outside, Alex clinging on his arm, chatting with Fernando and Olalla.
Stevie look around, like he’d been doing all night, and at once caught sight of Xabi. He immediately broke into a sheepish grin, excusing himself from the group. Xabi stood rooted in the spot, gaping at the approaching captain dumbly.
From afar, Fernando greeted him loudly to jolt him out of his daze, “Xabi!” Xabi shook his head to knock some sense into himself. “Happy holidays,” Fernando winked at him, then nodded at Stevie meaningfully.
Xabi didn’t know whether to strangle the striker in his embarrassment or buy him a new car in overwhelming gratitude.
“Happy holidays, Xab,” Stevie greeted, pulling him into a quick embrace. Xabi felt that familiar giddy feeling tingling at his fingers, the kind of sensation he only got when he was with Stevie.
“You came,” Xabi smiled, still a bit shell-shocked, letting his hands linger against Stevie’s shoulders.
“Yeah. I’ve been nagging Alex if I could have a free day with the lads-with you-and she never let me. Fernando drops by, dressed nice and bringing a box of chocolates, and she’s immediately agreed. She likes him, I tell you. I think it’s the long, blond hair.”
Xabi scratched his head, “Um, speaking of Fernando...”
“What’s up?” Stevie asked.
Xabi phrased it carefully, “It doesn’t count as cheating if we were in the middle of a fight, right?”
Stevie’s eyes widened, and Xabi could see he was struggling to digest the information.
“Are you mad?” Xabi asked worriedly.
“Well, I don’t like it that you’ve slept with someone else,” Stevie mumbled miserably. “But, I guess I deserved it for being a prick.”
“I’m sorry,” Xabi apologized.
“It’s done now, anyway.” Stevie shrugged, before breaking out into a cheeky grin, “Not to mention the thought of it is kind of turning me on.”
Xabi’s jaw dropped, as he shoved Stevie playfully. “You pervert!”
“What?” Stevie laughed. “If you can sleep with other people, I should have the right to fantasise about it.” Xabi blushed a violent shade of red, all the more when Stevie wiggled his eyebrows, “You think he’d want to join us sometime?”
Xabi was burning in embarrassment now, burying his face in the soft fabric of Stevie’s gray cotton sweater. “Stevie!”
“What? It’s an honest proposal!”
Xabi shook his head and laughed. “I don’t think so. Daniel’s keeping his eye on him like a hawk. And the lad’s pretty strong.”
Stevie waved his hand dismissively, scoffing, “Pffft. There’s two of us. We can hold him off.”
Characters: Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso, Fernando Torres/Xabi Alonso, Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger, Mikel Arteta, Steve Finnan
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is all fiction, so don’t sue me.
A/N: A bit of smut, angst and fluff.
Recipient: indecencia
“Oh, hi, Xabi-” Fernando greeted as he opened the door to his house, but he was cut off as Xabi pushed past the entrance and abruptly grabbed the striker into a kiss. Fernando’s eyes widened in shock, struggling to pull away and protesting into their liplock, but Xabi wasn’t listening.
When Xabi finally let him go, Fernando staggered back, aghast. But before he could even open his mouth to speak, a figure emerged from the living room, smirking.
“So, does he always come here and demand sex like that?”
Xabi and Fernando froze.
“Er, Xabi,” Fernando ran his hands through his hair self-consciously, “Mikel Arteta dropped by.”
Xabi shook his head in disbelief. “Mikel, could you excuse us for a moment?” He didn’t even wait for a reply. He merely grabbed Fernando by the arm and dragged him into the kitchen where they could have some privacy.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Fernando demanded in a hush, wriggling away from Xabi’s grasp.
Xabi rolled his hands into fists, “I asked Stevie if we could spend Christmas together. He said he couldn’t because he had to spend time with his family. Understandable, right? I asked him if we could hang out on Christmas Eve instead. He still says no. I asked him if his ultimately important schedule could accommodate me on the 21st, the 22nd, the 23rd, hell, even on the 26th and 27th. Have our own fucking Christmas and all. Guess what he says? The holidays are just for his family.”
Fernando blinked dumbly, wondered if he was expected to understand this.
“As if I didn’t have a family either. Nagore is pregnant with my first child, but I can still make time for him! All I’m asking for is one day, and he can’t even stand up to Alex to do that.” Xabi finished bitterly, “I hate him.”
“Wait, wait,” Fernando cocked his head to the side, “So, you kissed me because you hate Steven Gerrard?”
Xabi shrugged nonchalantly. “Yes.”
Fernando’s jaw dropped.
“It’s not like it’s our first time.” Xabi rolled his eyes. Fernando blushed. It was an unspoken arrangement.
“Why is Arteta here?” Xabi asked in a seemingly off-handed tone.
“I invited him over,” Fernando said innocently. He pushed himself up to sit on the marble counter. “We were going to play board games.”
“Right,” Xabi smirked, eyeing Fernando from head to toe. “Dressed like that you’re not.” The boy was wearing one of his nicer shirts and tighter jeans. Suspiciously come-hither for an innocent night at home.
“I’m not-”
“You wanted to get him to fuck you!” Xabi accused, laughing.
“Yeah, and I would have been more successful if you hadn’t barged in here.”
“Why Arteta?” Xabi raised an eyebrow. Mikel had been dropping by Fernando’s house for months; it seemed strange that the striker was only pursuing him now.
Fernando threw back his head, before finally confessing. “Apparently, Daniel’s been pursuing Finns all this time.”
Xabi approached the striker perched on the counter, patting his leg in comfort, “You know Dan can get a bit dense.”
“Or insensitive,” Fernando corrected, indignant.
“So, you wanted to fuck Arteta to get back at Daniel?”
“Well, in general, I just wanted to work off my anger.” Fernando shrugged. “But, revenge would definitely be a bonus.”
Xabi slowly rubbed his hands up and down the rough material of Fernando’s jeans, the striker, in turn, watching his every move with bated breath.
“You know,” Xabi spoke huskily, “You could send Arteta home now.” He gently pushed Fernando’s legs apart and nestled in between them. He pressed in close, whispering to the striker’s ear, “Besides, what can he do that I can’t do better?”
*
“Mikel,” Fernando called out, tumbling out of the kitchen a few minutes after. Mikel looked up from the magazine he was reading. “I was wondering when you’d come back.”
“I know I invited you over for a quiet night-in, but,” Fernando paused, “Something came up.”
Mikel stood up slowly, “You look a bit hot and bothered.”
Fernando shifted uneasily but couldn’t come up with anything to say. Mikel laughed, gathering his things. “And Xabi?”
Fernando dismissed the topic as quickly as possible, “Oh, Xabi just has a problem and we need to talk about it.”
Mikel nodded, making his way to the door. “Right, have fun... talking?”
The striker blushed a bright red. “I’ll see you.”
The moment the door closed, Fernando let out a sigh of relief. But before he could even settle, Xabi pushed him against the wall, face first, without warning. His heart pounded dangerously, as he felt Xabi’s arms loop around his waist and deftly working at his belt immediately. He could already feel the midfielder’s growing erection press against his behind.
“Xabi, wait,” Fernando said breathlessly, disoriented.
“What? It took you long enough sending Arteta away,” Xabi said, pressing a kiss to the striker’s neck. Fernando gasped as Xabi roughly pushed down his jeans down his thighs. Xabi dropped to his knees, hands gripping at Fernando’s hips to hold them steady. The striker craned his neck back, trying to see what Xabi was up to, but he couldn’t catch a slight glimpse. The next thing he knew, he was moaning softly as Xabi’s tongue ran tantalizingly slow down his back, tracing his vertebra.
Xabi grabbed Fernando’s butt cheeks, kneading it under his fingers. Fernando shuddered convulsively as he felt Xabi’s hot breath and even hotter tongue run down his crack, before licking at his hole, digging in persistently. The midfielder reached between the younger man’s legs and grabbed hold of the hardening length, gripping tightly and moving quickly. He pumped him in synch to his tongue-thrusting, Fernando groaning his name over and over again until he came messily in Xabi’s hand.
“You came to soon,” Xabi teased, as Fernando collapsed on the floor beside him. Fernando scowled tiredly, “It’s not like you gave me a moment of rest.”
“That was just a preview,” Xabi said, the dark look returning to his eyes, watching as Fernando pulled up his jeans.
Fernando leaned against the wall, still dazed. “Are you sure about this?”
“What, you want to remain the trustworthy, loyal boyfriend to Daniel?” Xabi sniped sardonically. “Oh, wait. Are you even together?”
Fernando glowered. “Fuck you.”
Xabi shrugged nonchalantly. He knew it was a cheap trick, but he was angry and frustrated and he needed release. He stood up and made his way up the stairs.
“Whatever you want, Nando. When you finally come to your senses, I’ll be in your bedroom.”
*
Xabi opened his eyes lazily as he heard the bedroom door slam closed. Fernando glared at the midfielder, already lying down on the bed in his underwear.
“You’re manipulative,” Fernando muttered, tugging his shirt off and throwing it to the side.
“Yes, and that would make you impressionable,” Xabi smirked, watching as Fernando pushed down his jeans and kicked them off, standing in front of him in his underwear, already stained after his first orgasm.
Fernando shook his head angrily and joined Xabi in bed, forcefully yanking him close into a kiss: teeth clashing, biting a little too hard, close to drawing blood. Xabi groaned, tugging Fernando closer, pressing their lips together even more. The striker’s nails ran down Xabi’s back, drawing clean red lines in the skin. It was forceful, angry, just like all the times they were together. They didn’t mean to be rough. It was just the circumstances that drew them together. Like when Fernando had knocked on his hotel room during a summer national team call-up. Sergio had finally broken up with him and he was devastated. Xabi had been moping because Stevie hadn’t been talking to him, still heartbroken over the Champions League defeat. Fernando had cried to him all night. Xabi’s guts were in a tight knot, both from his own problems and the young striker’s. They had sex that night: the confused, angry sex of two people finding solace and comfort in one another.
This time, it was Xabi who needed Fernando.
Fernando sucked on his nipple avidly as Xabi rocked against his hips wildly. He ripped down his own underwear, then Fernando’s, aligning their erections now. He dug his hips down again, creating friction, making both of them shiver.
“Second drawer,” Fernando instructed breathlessly. Xabi stretched out to open the compartment, pulling out some lube and a condom. He put on the rubber easily, Fernando watching in anticipation, jacking himself off as Xabi lubed up his fingers. Xabi smiled and pressed a kiss to the striker’s temple, “Relax.” Fernando nodded obediently, bucking his hips impatiently against Xabi’s hand.
The midfielder fondled the pucker, smiling teasingly as Fernando glared at him. He pressed in his index finger, slowly at first as Fernando’s hole tightened, but it soon slid in easily. Fernando’s breathing was becoming quicker now, feeling the second finger pushing in as well. He made quick, scissoring motions, and Fernando writhed wantonly beneath him.
Xabi withdrew his fingers and for a moment, there was no thought of Daniel as Fernando opened his legs wider, lifting them around Xabi’s waist. He eased in his cock, watching Fernando’s expression change from one in pain to one in the throes of passion. He loved fucking Fernando on his back, just because he liked seeing his face.
“Deeper,” Fernando moaned, as Xabi started thrusting against him, plunging in again and again. “I need you deeper.”
Xabi pulled out, earning a cry of protest from the striker. “Fuck yourself on me.”
He laid down on his back and watched as Fernando climbed up to straddle him. He held Xabi’s length in one hand and guided it into his hole, slowly impaling himself on it. Xabi swore he could come there and then at the sight. Fernando rolled his hips teasingly, Xabi groaning at the tightness enveloping his cock and the tingling that movement sent.
“Move,” Xabi commanded, and Fernando dutifully pulled out, before slamming himself against him once more. The bed creaked harshly underneath them as they moved in a frenzied rhythm, both in pursuit of their release. Fernando cried out Xabi’s name over and over again, helplessly moving his lower body up and down, hard and furious, the sound of their joining echoing loudly in the quiet room.
“I’m coming,” Fernando gasped, as the head of Xabi’s cock pounded relentlessly against his prostate. His movement was erratic now, and when Xabi grabbed a hold of his cock and jerked it roughly, his senses spiralled madly. With a final groan, he came-his hole tightening abruptly at the orgasm, sending Xabi coming just a few moments after him.
They collapsed in a heap, tangled in the sheets. The bedroom was quiet now, save for their laboured breathing. Xabi tucked Fernando’s damp blond hair behind his ears. Fernando opened his eyes languidly, “Do you feel better now?” Xabi smiled tiredly and nodded.
*
Xabi stirred from his sleep at the persistent ringing. He rubbed his eyes and saw Fernando bending over his discarded clothes looking for his mobile.
“Hello?” Fernando answered the call, crawling back into bed with Xabi. The latter grinned, seeing the striker wince with every move of his tender, aching body. Fernando smiled back, nuzzling into his arms, phone still pressed to his ear.
“I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk,” Fernando said.
“Is that Daniel?” Xabi asked. Fernando nodded.
“Yeah, that was Xabi. What? Nothing, he just came over.” Fernando replied. “Oh, and what do you care? Aren’t you supposed to be with Stephen now?” Xabi snickered.
After a while, Fernando ended the call and dropped the phone carelessly on his night table.
“He’s coming over,” Fernando muttered, a deep frown line furrowing in his forehead.
Xabi grinned, “Do you want me to greet him at the door in my boxers? It’ll drive him crazy.”
Fernando laughed, “Yes.”
“Come on then, let’s get cleaned up,” Xabi said, sitting up and pulling Fernando into the bathroom with him.
*
“It’s so nice of Fernando and Olalla to have us over for Christmas!” Nagore exclaimed happily, stepping out of their car.
Xabi took her gloved hand as they made their way to the front door, “Yeah, I think it’s his way of settling in. Pepe, Alvaro and Mikel are here too.”
However, when they knocked on the door, they were greeted by a very non-Spanish person.
“Xabi! Happy holidays. And you must be Nagore. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Nagore smiled as Xabi introduced them, “Nagore, this is Daniel, our teammate.”
They moved inside, Nagore immediately making a beeline for the host of wives and girlfriends huddled by the Christmas tree.
Xabi smiled at Dan wryly, “So, you came.”
Dan shrugged embarrassedly, “I promised Fernando I would drop by for a while before I had Christmas dinner with my family.”
“Wow,” Xabi appraised, “Is this a gesture of commitment?”
Daniel blushed now, “I don’t know. I’m not really good at these things. But, I’m working on it.”
“Well, my advice is simple: Don’t date Finns and Fernando at the same time.”
“I know,” Daniel laughed. He paused, and the midfielder looked at him expectantly.
“I know we’re not yet together, but when we are,” Daniel slung an arm around Xabi’s shoulders, “If I catch you sleeping with Fernando again, I’m going to kill you.”
Xabi laughed, “Don’t worry.”
They walked in to join the others in the living room, decorated grandly by Olalla no doubt.
“Are you feeling out of place with the Spanish crowd?” Xabi asked.
“Nah, not really. Stevie’s here anyway.”
Xabi froze. “W-what?”
Daniel looked at him in confusion. “Yeah, Stevie and his family arrived an hour ago. He was looking for you the last time I saw him.”
Xabi didn’t even say goodbye to Daniel. All he knew was he was in autopilot. His feet were taking him around Fernando’s house, poking his head in every room to check where the Scouser was. Finally, he saw the captain in the foyer outside, Alex clinging on his arm, chatting with Fernando and Olalla.
Stevie look around, like he’d been doing all night, and at once caught sight of Xabi. He immediately broke into a sheepish grin, excusing himself from the group. Xabi stood rooted in the spot, gaping at the approaching captain dumbly.
From afar, Fernando greeted him loudly to jolt him out of his daze, “Xabi!” Xabi shook his head to knock some sense into himself. “Happy holidays,” Fernando winked at him, then nodded at Stevie meaningfully.
Xabi didn’t know whether to strangle the striker in his embarrassment or buy him a new car in overwhelming gratitude.
“Happy holidays, Xab,” Stevie greeted, pulling him into a quick embrace. Xabi felt that familiar giddy feeling tingling at his fingers, the kind of sensation he only got when he was with Stevie.
“You came,” Xabi smiled, still a bit shell-shocked, letting his hands linger against Stevie’s shoulders.
“Yeah. I’ve been nagging Alex if I could have a free day with the lads-with you-and she never let me. Fernando drops by, dressed nice and bringing a box of chocolates, and she’s immediately agreed. She likes him, I tell you. I think it’s the long, blond hair.”
Xabi scratched his head, “Um, speaking of Fernando...”
“What’s up?” Stevie asked.
Xabi phrased it carefully, “It doesn’t count as cheating if we were in the middle of a fight, right?”
Stevie’s eyes widened, and Xabi could see he was struggling to digest the information.
“Are you mad?” Xabi asked worriedly.
“Well, I don’t like it that you’ve slept with someone else,” Stevie mumbled miserably. “But, I guess I deserved it for being a prick.”
“I’m sorry,” Xabi apologized.
“It’s done now, anyway.” Stevie shrugged, before breaking out into a cheeky grin, “Not to mention the thought of it is kind of turning me on.”
Xabi’s jaw dropped, as he shoved Stevie playfully. “You pervert!”
“What?” Stevie laughed. “If you can sleep with other people, I should have the right to fantasise about it.” Xabi blushed a violent shade of red, all the more when Stevie wiggled his eyebrows, “You think he’d want to join us sometime?”
Xabi was burning in embarrassment now, burying his face in the soft fabric of Stevie’s gray cotton sweater. “Stevie!”
“What? It’s an honest proposal!”
Xabi shook his head and laughed. “I don’t think so. Daniel’s keeping his eye on him like a hawk. And the lad’s pretty strong.”
Stevie waved his hand dismissively, scoffing, “Pffft. There’s two of us. We can hold him off.”