It's not personal (Cesc Fabregas/Emmanuel Adebayor)
Title: It's not personal
Author: Abby (louis_quatorze/4or5paragraphs)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Character: Cesc Fabregas/Emmanuel Adebayor
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Fiction, and meant to be treated as such.
Notes: Written as a follow-up to this story. Takes place mid-September, 2008.
Emmanuel showed up to Cesc's door with a six-pack of Ghanaian banana beer. Cesc let him in, albeit reluctantly. "What are you doing here?"
"Thought I'd come by," Emmanuel said with an easy shrug, pulling one of the bottles out with long fingers. "You know, hang out a little, that sort of thing. I still hadn't seen your new place! It looks really nice in here…"
"Thanks," Cesc said with a shrug, plucking up a beer of his own. Phil was always the one who liked the flavored ones, not him. He would not be surprised if this was the beer Emmanuel always got for him.
"Did you buy all new stuff? I don't recognize that couch. But the TV looks the same…" Emmanuel laughed, rubbing his thumb over the label of his beer. "Why would you give that up? It's too nice."
"Yeah, the couch is new." Cesc shrugged. "I got some new furniture, when I moved…"
"It's nice!"
"Thanks," Cesc replied, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"You've got an eye, for that kind of thing. I hired this woman to do all of mine, it looks all right, I think, and I've got some stuff that I picked out myself, but she made it look much better than I would have been able to do. Or have time to do, you know? It can take a lot of time." Emmanuel ran his finger over a shelf with a pleased hum.
"I did it mostly myself," Cesc said, a little warily. He'd picked out all his furniture. He'd chosen what he wanted in his own home. It had been something he'd enjoyed doing. It was almost thrilling, to pick out everything for himself like this. He didn't have to please anyone else. He didn't have to think about how they would react.
"Really? Brilliant!" Emmanuel's enthusiasm was outsized as always. "Could hire yourself out, or something."
Cesc laughed quietly. "That's what everyone wants from me, interior decorating advice."
"Hey, when you're good, you're good, man. You're good."
"Maybe."
"But yeah, you know, looks good and all. You could have a real party over here! Do a whole dinner thing, you know, get a whole crowd…"
"I could," Cesc said, somewhat icily, sitting down on his couch. He didn't like having people over. His place was his- his little sanctuary, his little area set off from the rest of the world. He only rarely invited people over. He couldn’t remember the last time. It must have been Philippe.
"I'd be having some good parties…"
"I'm not really a good host." Cesc wasn't like Emmanuel. He reveled in the luxury of being alone, of not having to please anyone when he was at home. It was heady. He spent so much time trying to impress and influence that being away from it was the most indulgent thing he could think of.
"You'd be fine." Emmanuel circled the other furniture before sitting down on the other end of the couch. "It'd be fun."
"I don't know," Cesc said, sipping his beer. "I don't really have people over much."
"You could invite people," Emmanuel pointed out.
"I know."
They fell silent. Cesc looked at his hands while Emmanuel picked at the label of his beer. "It must be hard," Emmanuel said, finally.
"What must be hard?"
"For everyone to just…go, like that."
"For who?" Cesc looked askance at Emmanuel, although he knew perfectly well what Emmanuel was talking about.
"Aleks. And Matty. And…" Emmanuel paused, visibly, a rare occurrence for him. "Philippe."
"It's not personal," Cesc shrugged, taking a pull on his beer. "It is what it is. It's football. It's not like they leave because they hate you."
"But you miss them," Emmanuel said, brow furrowed.
"It's not like they're dead," Cesc scoffed. "They're just not here. It happens."
"I don't know, man." Emmanuel shook his head, skeptical of Cesc's protests.
"I'll see them again."
"You're cold, man. Total cold." Emmanuel grinned. "And I thought Phil was-"
"I'm not Phil!" Cesc exclaimed, looking up hotly at Emmanuel. "I know that's why you came here, but I'm not Phil."
Emmanuel pursed his lips. "I'm not expecting you to be Phil."
"So why are you here?"
"I miss him," Emmanuel replied, uncharacteristically looking down as he spoke. "Fine. I miss him."
"What do you expect me to do about it?"
"I don't know." Emmanuel sighed and shrugged, tugging down the label of his beer. "I thought you'd get it, I guess. You're his friend. More than me. I just didn't think I'd be missing him a lot, you know? Like you said, it's not like he's dead." He ripped off the edge of the label and rolled it between his fingers. "But he's gone, and I thought…"
"That we could miss him together?" Cesc raised his eyebrows.
"I guess." Even with that kind of admission, Emmanuel managed a grin. "Good of a thought as any, right?"
"Yeah." Cesc's face softened. "I guess." He signed, looking down into his beer, the banana scent clinging to the rim. "I will miss him. He's always…"
"Yeah." Emmanuel reached out, rubbed Cesc's shoulder. "He grows on you, doesn't he?"
"It'll just be so strange without him." Cesc didn't make a move to dislodge Emmanuel's hand, which lingered on his shoulder. It was a moment before he spoke again. "He's always been here. I can't even imagine being in London without him."
"It's weird, isn't it? So sudden."
"He didn't even tell me until the contract was nearly signed!" Cesc exclaimed, raising his hands angrily. "Not even me! And then he was packing, and figuring out flights, and what he's going to do with his place…"
"He didn't tell you?" Emmanuel blinked in surprise, leaning back against the arm of the couch. "I mean, I'd understand why he wouldn't tell me, but…"
"Why wouldn't he tell you?"
"Dunno." Emmanuel shrugged. "I mean, it's not like we've known each other as long as you two have."
"But you'd been sleeping together for like, six months," Cesc pointed out with the tip of his nearly-empty bottle.
"But that's, like…" Emmanuel paused, hands in the air, trying to articulate what he felt. "There was the Euros in the middle of that, we didn't see each other for nearly like, a whole month there, so that doesn't count, and I don't know, it never seemed like it was super-serious. It just was, it was just me and Phil, and we didn't talk about what was going on, you know? It just was."
"But he likes you."
"Yeah, well." Emmanuel nudged Cesc's leg with his own. "I'm not you."
"He still should have told you."
"Well. He was probably busy." Emmanuel redraped his arm around Cesc.
Cesc sighed, resting his head on Emmanuel's shoulder. "I'm happy for him, I guess. He needs to get his head back on track."
"Italy's nice," Emmanuel said blandly.
"I just wanted him to sort himself out here." Cesc ran his hand down his face, embarrassed at the petulant tone of his voice. "Now he's gone, Matt's gone, Aleks is gone…"
"I'm still here." Emmanuel ruffled the edges of Cesc's hairline.
"Yeah." Cesc snorted softly and looked up at Emmanuel with a wry smile. "You stuck around, for whatever reason."
"Maybe I like it here."
"Like hell you do." Cesc shut his eyes, leaning into Emmanuel's touch.
"Do so." Emmanuel poked him gently, then went back to stroking his hair. "Good city, good football, good friends…"
"You're full of crap."
"You're a cynic," Emmanuel laughed. "Looking for the worst in me. You know, Phil believed me when I said I wanted to stay here."
"Phil likes you. And he's nice enough to take people at his word."
"Is that what you learned, growing up at Barcelona? Good thing I stayed here."
"I'm not a cynic," Cesc huffed. "I'm a realist."
"Whatever you say, mate. Whatever you say."
Cesc was quiet for a moment, looking down into his lap. "I'm not that bad, am I?" he asked, finally.
"Hmm?"
"You know. When it comes to people." It was dumb. Cesc had plenty of friends that he could point to. But it'd been gnawing at him since Phil had left.
"Nah." Emmanuel smiled, rubbing his thumb across Cesc's cheekbone. "You're just focused on other things. Nothing wrong with that."
Cesc sighed and leaned into Emmanuel. He'd taken this pose with Phil more than once, but Phil was more solid, more comfortable. He shifted his body in such a way that Cesc fit against him. Emmanuel didn't. And he smelled different. But it wasn't bad, not really. "You're a kind soul, Manu."
"Am I?" Emmanuel rumbled.
"You are. A good person." Cesc sighed, eyelids dropping just a little.
"You sure about that?" Emmanuel asked, curling his fingers under Cesc's chin, just enough so that Cesc knew what the other man wanted. He raised his head of his own accord and Emmanuel kissed him. "Am I really?"
"Good enough," Cesc said, resting his hand on Emmanuel's thigh. He should not be doing this, but he'd just heard that Philippe wasn't all that serious with Emmanuel, and Philippe was six hundred miles away, anyway. And he probably had other things on his mind than either of them. Cesc tightened his grip and kissed Emmanuel again.
Emmanuel pressed Cesc back onto the couch, hand against the small of his back. Cesc bent, pliable when he wanted to be, encouraging Emmanuel as he licked out the last faint wisps of banana. He had to gasp when Emmanuel pulled away.
"Want to show me the bedroom?" Emmanuel asked, licking his lip, as confident as ever.
"Sure," Cesc breathed, and writhed away. He definitely shouldn't be doing this, but maybe doing what he shouldn't would make him feel better. It worked, occasionally. He ran his hand through his hair and turned before he could change his mind, heading towards his bedroom. Emmanuel would be a few steps behind, he knew. He wondered how this worked with Phil.
His bedroom was messier than he'd have liked it to be, with company over. Clothes were strewn everywhere, including a layer coating the space to the foot of his bed. It was a mess, but normally he was the only one that saw it. He turned to Emmanuel to apologize, but was shut up by Emmanuel grabbing his arms and kissing him. So that was how this was going to be, Cesc thought.
Emmanuel twisted them onto the unmade bed and Cesc fell without resistance. He wrapped his hand in Emmanuel's T-shirt as his back hit the sheets- he hadn't made the bed- and pulled him close. Emmanuel flashed a grin before kissing him.
They moved against each other, not quite in rhythm, but Cesc was panting anyway when Emmanuel pulled off his shirt. They stripped quickly. Cesc was impatient and Emmanuel did everything quickly if he could get away with it. Their clothes joined the others on Cesc's floor. Cesc pressed his lips to Emmanuel's neck and Emmanuel stroked Cesc's side. "What do you want?" he murmured.
"Just fuck me," Cesc replied, shutting his eyes against Emmanuel's jaw. "There should be stuff on the table."
"You just leave it out?" Emmanuel chuckled, reaching over to the box of condoms and lube.
"It's my place," Cesc said with a raised eyebrow. "I can leave out what I want."
"Handy that way." Emmanuel sat back on his knees, calves underneath his thighs, grinning at Cesc until the Spaniard giggled softly and looked away. "Hey, if it works for you…"
"Shut up." Cesc poked Emmanuel's thigh.
"Aww, relax," Emmanuel grabbed Cesc's hand, swinging it gently before pushing it away. "I'm just joking." He slid his hands up Cesc's thighs, gently pushing them apart. Cesc's cock was flushed, hard and firming even more with the way Emmanuel touched him. Those elegant fingers crept up the sensitive skin, and Emmanuel grinned as he brushed his fingers against Cesc's balls. "You know me."
"Yeah, yeah…" Cesc gasped as Emmanuel slid a finger into him. It had been a little too long. He'd been a little too busy. "God da-" The word ended on a hiss as Emmanuel twisted his finger, working it back and forth. Emmanuel was careful, for which Cesc was grateful, eyes on Cesc's reactions to his movement, waiting until he'd relaxed again before easing in a second finger. Cesc shut his eyes and rocked against Emmanuel's fingers, enjoying the sensation. They twisted and searched and Cesc could swear he had an extra joint. He groaned. "Fuck, c'mon."
Emmanuel snorted, but smiled, and pulled out his fingers. He kept Cesc's gaze as he opened the condom packet, and rolled the condom on with a slight flourish. Cesc couldn't help but grin. Emmanuel could never stop showing off. But he did have something worth showing- a perfectly sculpted body and a beautiful hard cock. That was enough for Cesc right now.
"Fuck…" Cesc hissed as Emmanuel pressed into him, and dug his fingers into Emmanuel's shoulders.
"Damn right, gonna fuck you hard," Emmanuel growled, grinning down at him.
"God, yes. Please, just like-!" Cesc moaned as Emmanuel hiked up his hips, not relinquishing his hold on the striker's shoulder. He wanted it hard, just like Emmanuel promised. He wanted to be sore and exhausted.
Emmanuel slammed into him, powerful thrusts that Cesc encouraged by moans and continuing jerks of his hips, trying to push up closer in order to get more of Emmanuel inside of him. Each hard thrust hit him perfectly, Emmanuel's cock getting just the right angle to drive Cesc higher each time. His own cock throbbed, trapped between them but not being touched nearly enough. He was already shouting. No one else was around. He could.
Cesc came not more than five seconds after Emmanuel wrapped his hand around his cock, making a mess over both their chests. Emmanuel came with a noise that's quieter than Cesc expected it would be. He pulled out quickly and Cesc regained enough of his senses to motion towards the direction of the trash can. The condom landed softly on a pile of tissues.
They lay back down. Emmanuel was surprisingly quiet. Cesc smiled at the thought that he'd finally found a way to shut him up, although it probably wouldn't work for the rest of the team. Emmanuel looked over at him. "What?"
"Nothing." Cesc sighed and stroked the top of Emmanuel's head. "You're quiet."
"You wear me out?" Emmanuel offered with a weary grin.
"You're full of shit." Cesc moved his hand down, onto Emmanuel's chest. He didn't know what Emmanuel was thinking about, but he felt he could probably guess. "But it's okay. Really."
"You sure?"
"Why not?" Cesc shrugged. He was ignoring the issue between them. Deliberately. If Phil hadn't wanted this to happen, he shouldn't have gone off the way he did. He should have talked more to both of them. It wasn't fair and he'd promised he wasn't upset, but Cesc was content to blame the Swiss right now. He yawned. "You can stay, if you want."
Emmanuel glanced at the clock. "Might as well."
"There's juice in the fridge if you're thirsty," Cesc mumbled as he shut his eyes.
"'m okay." Emmanuel draped the tossed-away blanket over them.
Author: Abby (louis_quatorze/4or5paragraphs)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Character: Cesc Fabregas/Emmanuel Adebayor
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Fiction, and meant to be treated as such.
Notes: Written as a follow-up to this story. Takes place mid-September, 2008.
Emmanuel showed up to Cesc's door with a six-pack of Ghanaian banana beer. Cesc let him in, albeit reluctantly. "What are you doing here?"
"Thought I'd come by," Emmanuel said with an easy shrug, pulling one of the bottles out with long fingers. "You know, hang out a little, that sort of thing. I still hadn't seen your new place! It looks really nice in here…"
"Thanks," Cesc said with a shrug, plucking up a beer of his own. Phil was always the one who liked the flavored ones, not him. He would not be surprised if this was the beer Emmanuel always got for him.
"Did you buy all new stuff? I don't recognize that couch. But the TV looks the same…" Emmanuel laughed, rubbing his thumb over the label of his beer. "Why would you give that up? It's too nice."
"Yeah, the couch is new." Cesc shrugged. "I got some new furniture, when I moved…"
"It's nice!"
"Thanks," Cesc replied, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"You've got an eye, for that kind of thing. I hired this woman to do all of mine, it looks all right, I think, and I've got some stuff that I picked out myself, but she made it look much better than I would have been able to do. Or have time to do, you know? It can take a lot of time." Emmanuel ran his finger over a shelf with a pleased hum.
"I did it mostly myself," Cesc said, a little warily. He'd picked out all his furniture. He'd chosen what he wanted in his own home. It had been something he'd enjoyed doing. It was almost thrilling, to pick out everything for himself like this. He didn't have to please anyone else. He didn't have to think about how they would react.
"Really? Brilliant!" Emmanuel's enthusiasm was outsized as always. "Could hire yourself out, or something."
Cesc laughed quietly. "That's what everyone wants from me, interior decorating advice."
"Hey, when you're good, you're good, man. You're good."
"Maybe."
"But yeah, you know, looks good and all. You could have a real party over here! Do a whole dinner thing, you know, get a whole crowd…"
"I could," Cesc said, somewhat icily, sitting down on his couch. He didn't like having people over. His place was his- his little sanctuary, his little area set off from the rest of the world. He only rarely invited people over. He couldn’t remember the last time. It must have been Philippe.
"I'd be having some good parties…"
"I'm not really a good host." Cesc wasn't like Emmanuel. He reveled in the luxury of being alone, of not having to please anyone when he was at home. It was heady. He spent so much time trying to impress and influence that being away from it was the most indulgent thing he could think of.
"You'd be fine." Emmanuel circled the other furniture before sitting down on the other end of the couch. "It'd be fun."
"I don't know," Cesc said, sipping his beer. "I don't really have people over much."
"You could invite people," Emmanuel pointed out.
"I know."
They fell silent. Cesc looked at his hands while Emmanuel picked at the label of his beer. "It must be hard," Emmanuel said, finally.
"What must be hard?"
"For everyone to just…go, like that."
"For who?" Cesc looked askance at Emmanuel, although he knew perfectly well what Emmanuel was talking about.
"Aleks. And Matty. And…" Emmanuel paused, visibly, a rare occurrence for him. "Philippe."
"It's not personal," Cesc shrugged, taking a pull on his beer. "It is what it is. It's football. It's not like they leave because they hate you."
"But you miss them," Emmanuel said, brow furrowed.
"It's not like they're dead," Cesc scoffed. "They're just not here. It happens."
"I don't know, man." Emmanuel shook his head, skeptical of Cesc's protests.
"I'll see them again."
"You're cold, man. Total cold." Emmanuel grinned. "And I thought Phil was-"
"I'm not Phil!" Cesc exclaimed, looking up hotly at Emmanuel. "I know that's why you came here, but I'm not Phil."
Emmanuel pursed his lips. "I'm not expecting you to be Phil."
"So why are you here?"
"I miss him," Emmanuel replied, uncharacteristically looking down as he spoke. "Fine. I miss him."
"What do you expect me to do about it?"
"I don't know." Emmanuel sighed and shrugged, tugging down the label of his beer. "I thought you'd get it, I guess. You're his friend. More than me. I just didn't think I'd be missing him a lot, you know? Like you said, it's not like he's dead." He ripped off the edge of the label and rolled it between his fingers. "But he's gone, and I thought…"
"That we could miss him together?" Cesc raised his eyebrows.
"I guess." Even with that kind of admission, Emmanuel managed a grin. "Good of a thought as any, right?"
"Yeah." Cesc's face softened. "I guess." He signed, looking down into his beer, the banana scent clinging to the rim. "I will miss him. He's always…"
"Yeah." Emmanuel reached out, rubbed Cesc's shoulder. "He grows on you, doesn't he?"
"It'll just be so strange without him." Cesc didn't make a move to dislodge Emmanuel's hand, which lingered on his shoulder. It was a moment before he spoke again. "He's always been here. I can't even imagine being in London without him."
"It's weird, isn't it? So sudden."
"He didn't even tell me until the contract was nearly signed!" Cesc exclaimed, raising his hands angrily. "Not even me! And then he was packing, and figuring out flights, and what he's going to do with his place…"
"He didn't tell you?" Emmanuel blinked in surprise, leaning back against the arm of the couch. "I mean, I'd understand why he wouldn't tell me, but…"
"Why wouldn't he tell you?"
"Dunno." Emmanuel shrugged. "I mean, it's not like we've known each other as long as you two have."
"But you'd been sleeping together for like, six months," Cesc pointed out with the tip of his nearly-empty bottle.
"But that's, like…" Emmanuel paused, hands in the air, trying to articulate what he felt. "There was the Euros in the middle of that, we didn't see each other for nearly like, a whole month there, so that doesn't count, and I don't know, it never seemed like it was super-serious. It just was, it was just me and Phil, and we didn't talk about what was going on, you know? It just was."
"But he likes you."
"Yeah, well." Emmanuel nudged Cesc's leg with his own. "I'm not you."
"He still should have told you."
"Well. He was probably busy." Emmanuel redraped his arm around Cesc.
Cesc sighed, resting his head on Emmanuel's shoulder. "I'm happy for him, I guess. He needs to get his head back on track."
"Italy's nice," Emmanuel said blandly.
"I just wanted him to sort himself out here." Cesc ran his hand down his face, embarrassed at the petulant tone of his voice. "Now he's gone, Matt's gone, Aleks is gone…"
"I'm still here." Emmanuel ruffled the edges of Cesc's hairline.
"Yeah." Cesc snorted softly and looked up at Emmanuel with a wry smile. "You stuck around, for whatever reason."
"Maybe I like it here."
"Like hell you do." Cesc shut his eyes, leaning into Emmanuel's touch.
"Do so." Emmanuel poked him gently, then went back to stroking his hair. "Good city, good football, good friends…"
"You're full of crap."
"You're a cynic," Emmanuel laughed. "Looking for the worst in me. You know, Phil believed me when I said I wanted to stay here."
"Phil likes you. And he's nice enough to take people at his word."
"Is that what you learned, growing up at Barcelona? Good thing I stayed here."
"I'm not a cynic," Cesc huffed. "I'm a realist."
"Whatever you say, mate. Whatever you say."
Cesc was quiet for a moment, looking down into his lap. "I'm not that bad, am I?" he asked, finally.
"Hmm?"
"You know. When it comes to people." It was dumb. Cesc had plenty of friends that he could point to. But it'd been gnawing at him since Phil had left.
"Nah." Emmanuel smiled, rubbing his thumb across Cesc's cheekbone. "You're just focused on other things. Nothing wrong with that."
Cesc sighed and leaned into Emmanuel. He'd taken this pose with Phil more than once, but Phil was more solid, more comfortable. He shifted his body in such a way that Cesc fit against him. Emmanuel didn't. And he smelled different. But it wasn't bad, not really. "You're a kind soul, Manu."
"Am I?" Emmanuel rumbled.
"You are. A good person." Cesc sighed, eyelids dropping just a little.
"You sure about that?" Emmanuel asked, curling his fingers under Cesc's chin, just enough so that Cesc knew what the other man wanted. He raised his head of his own accord and Emmanuel kissed him. "Am I really?"
"Good enough," Cesc said, resting his hand on Emmanuel's thigh. He should not be doing this, but he'd just heard that Philippe wasn't all that serious with Emmanuel, and Philippe was six hundred miles away, anyway. And he probably had other things on his mind than either of them. Cesc tightened his grip and kissed Emmanuel again.
Emmanuel pressed Cesc back onto the couch, hand against the small of his back. Cesc bent, pliable when he wanted to be, encouraging Emmanuel as he licked out the last faint wisps of banana. He had to gasp when Emmanuel pulled away.
"Want to show me the bedroom?" Emmanuel asked, licking his lip, as confident as ever.
"Sure," Cesc breathed, and writhed away. He definitely shouldn't be doing this, but maybe doing what he shouldn't would make him feel better. It worked, occasionally. He ran his hand through his hair and turned before he could change his mind, heading towards his bedroom. Emmanuel would be a few steps behind, he knew. He wondered how this worked with Phil.
His bedroom was messier than he'd have liked it to be, with company over. Clothes were strewn everywhere, including a layer coating the space to the foot of his bed. It was a mess, but normally he was the only one that saw it. He turned to Emmanuel to apologize, but was shut up by Emmanuel grabbing his arms and kissing him. So that was how this was going to be, Cesc thought.
Emmanuel twisted them onto the unmade bed and Cesc fell without resistance. He wrapped his hand in Emmanuel's T-shirt as his back hit the sheets- he hadn't made the bed- and pulled him close. Emmanuel flashed a grin before kissing him.
They moved against each other, not quite in rhythm, but Cesc was panting anyway when Emmanuel pulled off his shirt. They stripped quickly. Cesc was impatient and Emmanuel did everything quickly if he could get away with it. Their clothes joined the others on Cesc's floor. Cesc pressed his lips to Emmanuel's neck and Emmanuel stroked Cesc's side. "What do you want?" he murmured.
"Just fuck me," Cesc replied, shutting his eyes against Emmanuel's jaw. "There should be stuff on the table."
"You just leave it out?" Emmanuel chuckled, reaching over to the box of condoms and lube.
"It's my place," Cesc said with a raised eyebrow. "I can leave out what I want."
"Handy that way." Emmanuel sat back on his knees, calves underneath his thighs, grinning at Cesc until the Spaniard giggled softly and looked away. "Hey, if it works for you…"
"Shut up." Cesc poked Emmanuel's thigh.
"Aww, relax," Emmanuel grabbed Cesc's hand, swinging it gently before pushing it away. "I'm just joking." He slid his hands up Cesc's thighs, gently pushing them apart. Cesc's cock was flushed, hard and firming even more with the way Emmanuel touched him. Those elegant fingers crept up the sensitive skin, and Emmanuel grinned as he brushed his fingers against Cesc's balls. "You know me."
"Yeah, yeah…" Cesc gasped as Emmanuel slid a finger into him. It had been a little too long. He'd been a little too busy. "God da-" The word ended on a hiss as Emmanuel twisted his finger, working it back and forth. Emmanuel was careful, for which Cesc was grateful, eyes on Cesc's reactions to his movement, waiting until he'd relaxed again before easing in a second finger. Cesc shut his eyes and rocked against Emmanuel's fingers, enjoying the sensation. They twisted and searched and Cesc could swear he had an extra joint. He groaned. "Fuck, c'mon."
Emmanuel snorted, but smiled, and pulled out his fingers. He kept Cesc's gaze as he opened the condom packet, and rolled the condom on with a slight flourish. Cesc couldn't help but grin. Emmanuel could never stop showing off. But he did have something worth showing- a perfectly sculpted body and a beautiful hard cock. That was enough for Cesc right now.
"Fuck…" Cesc hissed as Emmanuel pressed into him, and dug his fingers into Emmanuel's shoulders.
"Damn right, gonna fuck you hard," Emmanuel growled, grinning down at him.
"God, yes. Please, just like-!" Cesc moaned as Emmanuel hiked up his hips, not relinquishing his hold on the striker's shoulder. He wanted it hard, just like Emmanuel promised. He wanted to be sore and exhausted.
Emmanuel slammed into him, powerful thrusts that Cesc encouraged by moans and continuing jerks of his hips, trying to push up closer in order to get more of Emmanuel inside of him. Each hard thrust hit him perfectly, Emmanuel's cock getting just the right angle to drive Cesc higher each time. His own cock throbbed, trapped between them but not being touched nearly enough. He was already shouting. No one else was around. He could.
Cesc came not more than five seconds after Emmanuel wrapped his hand around his cock, making a mess over both their chests. Emmanuel came with a noise that's quieter than Cesc expected it would be. He pulled out quickly and Cesc regained enough of his senses to motion towards the direction of the trash can. The condom landed softly on a pile of tissues.
They lay back down. Emmanuel was surprisingly quiet. Cesc smiled at the thought that he'd finally found a way to shut him up, although it probably wouldn't work for the rest of the team. Emmanuel looked over at him. "What?"
"Nothing." Cesc sighed and stroked the top of Emmanuel's head. "You're quiet."
"You wear me out?" Emmanuel offered with a weary grin.
"You're full of shit." Cesc moved his hand down, onto Emmanuel's chest. He didn't know what Emmanuel was thinking about, but he felt he could probably guess. "But it's okay. Really."
"You sure?"
"Why not?" Cesc shrugged. He was ignoring the issue between them. Deliberately. If Phil hadn't wanted this to happen, he shouldn't have gone off the way he did. He should have talked more to both of them. It wasn't fair and he'd promised he wasn't upset, but Cesc was content to blame the Swiss right now. He yawned. "You can stay, if you want."
Emmanuel glanced at the clock. "Might as well."
"There's juice in the fridge if you're thirsty," Cesc mumbled as he shut his eyes.
"'m okay." Emmanuel draped the tossed-away blanket over them.