Fiction: RPS - Gambling (Karim Benzema/Esteban Granero)
title: Gamblingword count: 615
rating: NC-17
warning(s): organized crime AU, sex (consensual! but won in poker and is an initiation), male-with-male-ness, language
characters: Karim Benzema, Esteban Granero, David Villa, Raul Albiol
author's note: This is for lady_quark, 'cause I'm really trying to write something for all my friends and I saw she wanted somethin' like this. This is thanks for the support and the befriending. :D One of my first LJ friends! ♥
This is AU, by the way. And I don’t own. This is a tie in with A 27 Magnum and an Order's third part.; Albiol and Karim are OGs.
It's just sex because I never think of gangsters having poetic feelings until I think a little harder. You can see hints throughout the writing.
Comments are love.
- - -
Karim set his cards down with a smirk. A royal flush against two other scrappy looking hands. “I win.”
“Fuck, why can’t I ever win?” David shouted as his cards hit the table. To his left, Albiol looked sullen but he said nothing.
“You’re not good at gambling.” The Frenchman’s smile darkened. He stood up and looked around to the other players, happy as could be, fucking excited.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow.” And he left, card key in hand.
*
The sheets were scratchy. He pushed that to the back of his mind; the new kid was unbuttoning his shirt, that blue shirt that reminded Karim of the football club’s flags here in Madrid. More tanned skin peeked through the fabric.
"Goddamn," Karim breathed but there was no breath. Hands gripped small hips as they were ridden of dress pants. The touch made one growl, the other, gasp.
The Frenchman took his clothes off with much less grace than Esteban but it didn't matter. He had the newbie on the bed, his hand in his dark boxers, and he couldn't wait. The underwear was thrown lazily to join the rest of the clothes as Karim bent down to exposed neck muscles.
Esteban's Spanish was throaty and fast. Good God, yes! Fingers were digging into his hips as teeth nipped just above his artery and he wanted to shout and press against something and get his dick touched like Karim knew he wanted it to be. Esteban felt a hand grip his ass hard and he bucked up against the naked flesh.
"Po-S'il voos play." Karim heard the attempt at French for him and let his hungry mouth roam a little more, his fingers push just a little further, his hips dip a little lower. A great reaction.
All the words were for nothing, lost in moans and gasps. Karim, now settled in front of squirming hips, took in the sight. "C'est magnifique." But when an inner thigh caught his, he returned to his work, stretching his prize until he was sure it'd be perfect for both of them.
*
Fucking was an art. Or maybe a talent. Whatever it was, Karim took pride in doing it well. He was careful in plotting it out but he was naturally really good at it.
He had taken Esteban by the ribcage, pinning him to the scratchy sheets, and slowly entered. Just a few inches. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head and Karim had grinned darkly. More, more, more, there. God, it was tight.
Esteban's mutterings were slurred together as his new comrade began to pull out, achingly slow. His hands slipped down to his own cock on their own and began to just touch the heated flesh. Flames engulfed the entire room.
And then he thrust back in. The tight body was so good, better than he expected. Karim began a pace. Slow and steady wins the race passed through his mind but it couldn't be done. The way Esteban groaned and arched and touched and pushed was too much to ignore, too much to go slow on.
"Ay dios mios!" rang off the hotel walls and the Spaniard’s moans were accented as the thrusts became more powerful. That cock, he thought absently, almost nonexistent, was the best initiation. A large hand wrapped around his and began pumping faster, faster, faster.
*
He came with a shout. Esteban writhed on the scratchy sheets, his hair covering his red face, as his come splattered against the Frenchman’s lower belly. A few more thrusts and Karim joined him, grunting instead of shouting. He folded over as his breath returned to him and chuckled weakly.
“Welcome to the gang.”