Fiction: RPS - Christmas Day. (follow-up)
title: Christmas Day.
rating and warnings: NC-17 // man sex, slash
characters: Gonzalo Higuain, Ezequiel Garay
author's note: Follow up of Christmas Eve (so weird for me since I write in short bursts) for july_v and any others interested in how Eze's present for his boy. Wonderful appreciation and love for those who support me.
Comments are love and in case you're wondering, there will be another part after this.
- - -
“Eze, you’ve been in there for ten minutes. Will you come out already?” Sitting next to the bathroom door, Gonzalo rapped his knuckles along the wood rhythmically.
There was a clatter and he was getting tired of not seeing what was making the sounds. “I’ll be out in a minute. Just go eat some gingerbread." He sounded... strange.
"Fine." Gonzalo stood up and walked around the living room, pacing, almost stomping, almost running for a few more minutes before sitting down and taking a gingerbread man off of the table.
A hand rested gently on his back. He didn't want to turn around so he stared at the CD collection on the wall. "What are you looking at? My new merengue CD?" His hand shifted down, ever so soft his touch but he could feel it through the cloth of his pajama top. "C'mon, let's dance to it." Quickly taking his hands away, Ezequiel jumped to the disc player and put in Elvis Crespo. He pressed 'Forward' a few times.
Pintame, le dije yo al pintor, pintame la carita,
de la nina mas bonita, dentro de mi corazon
Pinta, pinta, pinta su carita
Ezequiel began shaking his hips as he reached out for his friend's hands, a wide smile breaking. Biting back a smile of his own, Gonzalo took the smaller hands and stood up to join him.
“I can’t dance merengue.”
“Pfft, do you think that bothers me? As long as you’ll dance with me…” For a moment, he just stared at the squirming striker before the laugh finally set in. “Stop being cute but don’t stop dancing!”
“And what if I do?” The question had a familiar connotation.
Ezequiel looked at him with the hint of a smirk on those lips. "I'd have to punish you. I told you not to stop moving." His eyes kept flicking to the swaying hips. Well, it was a false. He's rather have the other man stop dancing to deliver the punishment he had been plotting all evening.
Slowing his hips, Gonzalo backed away down the hallway toward "Eze's cave". "Make 'em keep moving, then." He loved challenges but this wasn't going be much of one, judging by how drunk they were.
They didn't break eye contact as they shimmied closer and into the bedroom. When they got in there, Gonzalo let himself be pushed against the wall and even turned his head to let a hungry mouth latch onto his neck. Hot breath hit him first. His stomach reacted almost immediately, getting that thick, heavy feeling.
"You stopped. But it's Christmas," Ezequiel whispered as the clock chimed from the kitchen. "Time for your present."
Gonzalo was led to the bed and he sat down obediently, excitedly. They were just starting to get into it and he was already enjoying himself more than he had the whole year. He scooted back to the pillows, looking at his best friend as he took off his black T-shirt and crawled up the bed on his knees. Straddling Gonzalo, he kissed him, as gentle as the first time. His hands crept under the thin fabric of that ugly pajama top, pressing his palms against the warm stomach beneath, and began to move his mouth Gonzalo's slightly stubbly jaw and neck, sucking lightly, just enough to make an almost inaudible pop when he pulled away.
"Mm, you taste like gingerbread." Ezequiel grinned against his neck and shifted his hands to their hips. How he wanted to touch already, get those right touches, but he had to take it slow, make this Christmas gift last. "Do you know how much I like the taste of gingerbread, Gonza?"
Gonzalo couldn't hold back a groan at the tone those words came in, absolutely sexy and fuck-me-now while still playful. And his name in that tone... He raised his hips to prove that the talking and simple stuff was working fine but he wanted more. The defender made a small noise-so much more.
“Please.”
Smiling like a villain, Ezequiel unbuttoned the pajama shirt and let his tongue trail down the freshly exposed skin, eliciting a satisfying shiver. His hands toyed with the top of Gonzalo’s bottoms, forcing his ‘victim’ to squirm and groan over the music that was still playing.
“Please,” he whined again. Without hesitation, and maybe he should’ve hesitated at least a moment, Ezequiel shoved his hand into his pants and grabbed his dick. Gonzalo would’ve gasped if there had been any air in his lungs but he arched up and gripped every inch of skin he could, his eyes rolling back into his head. After he took a breath, Ezequiel kissed his lips softly and eased his grip.
“Do you want more?” He already knew the answer but he still liked to see the emphatic nod. As he slid down the almost completely exposed body, he let one of his hands dig into his own pants and, damn, it felt good. He hovered over the hot flesh in his hands, looking at it, etching the sight of Gonzalo's face in his memory, before dipping down and giving it a faux-tentative lick.
Gonzalo nearly yelped at the warmth and chill. "Eze!" His hand pushed through the other Argentine's hair but his face was softened slightly by a sort of smile. Smiling himself, though in a dark way, Ezequiel bent down again and, as slow as he could stand, took him into his mouth. He didn’t taste like gingerbread anymore; he tasted purely of Pipita, of his… best friend, of Argentina and learned Spanish swagger, and it was a million times better than gingerbread. Eyes rolling back, Gonzalo gripped anything within arm’s length, mouth open and chest rising and falling quickly.
They set a rhythm together, head and hips and hands, and without a word, only a groan, Gonzalo felt his release shake him to the core and he insisted on seeing a pair of eyes when it happened. Ezequiel bit the sheet next to a naked thigh when he came, trying not to squirm too much as to not fall off the bed.
"Hey, Eze." Gonzalo's voice had steadied to where he could manage coherency.
"Hmm?"
He smiled. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, you pain in the ass." Ezequiel turned his head to look at the man above him.
"Oh, really? Another part to the present?"
"If you shut your mouth, maybe."
rating and warnings: NC-17 // man sex, slash
characters: Gonzalo Higuain, Ezequiel Garay
author's note: Follow up of Christmas Eve (so weird for me since I write in short bursts) for july_v and any others interested in how Eze's present for his boy. Wonderful appreciation and love for those who support me.
Comments are love and in case you're wondering, there will be another part after this.
- - -
“Eze, you’ve been in there for ten minutes. Will you come out already?” Sitting next to the bathroom door, Gonzalo rapped his knuckles along the wood rhythmically.
There was a clatter and he was getting tired of not seeing what was making the sounds. “I’ll be out in a minute. Just go eat some gingerbread." He sounded... strange.
"Fine." Gonzalo stood up and walked around the living room, pacing, almost stomping, almost running for a few more minutes before sitting down and taking a gingerbread man off of the table.
A hand rested gently on his back. He didn't want to turn around so he stared at the CD collection on the wall. "What are you looking at? My new merengue CD?" His hand shifted down, ever so soft his touch but he could feel it through the cloth of his pajama top. "C'mon, let's dance to it." Quickly taking his hands away, Ezequiel jumped to the disc player and put in Elvis Crespo. He pressed 'Forward' a few times.
Pintame, le dije yo al pintor, pintame la carita,
de la nina mas bonita, dentro de mi corazon
Pinta, pinta, pinta su carita
Ezequiel began shaking his hips as he reached out for his friend's hands, a wide smile breaking. Biting back a smile of his own, Gonzalo took the smaller hands and stood up to join him.
“I can’t dance merengue.”
“Pfft, do you think that bothers me? As long as you’ll dance with me…” For a moment, he just stared at the squirming striker before the laugh finally set in. “Stop being cute but don’t stop dancing!”
“And what if I do?” The question had a familiar connotation.
Ezequiel looked at him with the hint of a smirk on those lips. "I'd have to punish you. I told you not to stop moving." His eyes kept flicking to the swaying hips. Well, it was a false. He's rather have the other man stop dancing to deliver the punishment he had been plotting all evening.
Slowing his hips, Gonzalo backed away down the hallway toward "Eze's cave". "Make 'em keep moving, then." He loved challenges but this wasn't going be much of one, judging by how drunk they were.
They didn't break eye contact as they shimmied closer and into the bedroom. When they got in there, Gonzalo let himself be pushed against the wall and even turned his head to let a hungry mouth latch onto his neck. Hot breath hit him first. His stomach reacted almost immediately, getting that thick, heavy feeling.
"You stopped. But it's Christmas," Ezequiel whispered as the clock chimed from the kitchen. "Time for your present."
Gonzalo was led to the bed and he sat down obediently, excitedly. They were just starting to get into it and he was already enjoying himself more than he had the whole year. He scooted back to the pillows, looking at his best friend as he took off his black T-shirt and crawled up the bed on his knees. Straddling Gonzalo, he kissed him, as gentle as the first time. His hands crept under the thin fabric of that ugly pajama top, pressing his palms against the warm stomach beneath, and began to move his mouth Gonzalo's slightly stubbly jaw and neck, sucking lightly, just enough to make an almost inaudible pop when he pulled away.
"Mm, you taste like gingerbread." Ezequiel grinned against his neck and shifted his hands to their hips. How he wanted to touch already, get those right touches, but he had to take it slow, make this Christmas gift last. "Do you know how much I like the taste of gingerbread, Gonza?"
Gonzalo couldn't hold back a groan at the tone those words came in, absolutely sexy and fuck-me-now while still playful. And his name in that tone... He raised his hips to prove that the talking and simple stuff was working fine but he wanted more. The defender made a small noise-so much more.
“Please.”
Smiling like a villain, Ezequiel unbuttoned the pajama shirt and let his tongue trail down the freshly exposed skin, eliciting a satisfying shiver. His hands toyed with the top of Gonzalo’s bottoms, forcing his ‘victim’ to squirm and groan over the music that was still playing.
“Please,” he whined again. Without hesitation, and maybe he should’ve hesitated at least a moment, Ezequiel shoved his hand into his pants and grabbed his dick. Gonzalo would’ve gasped if there had been any air in his lungs but he arched up and gripped every inch of skin he could, his eyes rolling back into his head. After he took a breath, Ezequiel kissed his lips softly and eased his grip.
“Do you want more?” He already knew the answer but he still liked to see the emphatic nod. As he slid down the almost completely exposed body, he let one of his hands dig into his own pants and, damn, it felt good. He hovered over the hot flesh in his hands, looking at it, etching the sight of Gonzalo's face in his memory, before dipping down and giving it a faux-tentative lick.
Gonzalo nearly yelped at the warmth and chill. "Eze!" His hand pushed through the other Argentine's hair but his face was softened slightly by a sort of smile. Smiling himself, though in a dark way, Ezequiel bent down again and, as slow as he could stand, took him into his mouth. He didn’t taste like gingerbread anymore; he tasted purely of Pipita, of his… best friend, of Argentina and learned Spanish swagger, and it was a million times better than gingerbread. Eyes rolling back, Gonzalo gripped anything within arm’s length, mouth open and chest rising and falling quickly.
They set a rhythm together, head and hips and hands, and without a word, only a groan, Gonzalo felt his release shake him to the core and he insisted on seeing a pair of eyes when it happened. Ezequiel bit the sheet next to a naked thigh when he came, trying not to squirm too much as to not fall off the bed.
"Hey, Eze." Gonzalo's voice had steadied to where he could manage coherency.
"Hmm?"
He smiled. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, you pain in the ass." Ezequiel turned his head to look at the man above him.
"Oh, really? Another part to the present?"
"If you shut your mouth, maybe."