The last three fic(let)s
These are the last fics for my table. I have completed all the prompts now.
Title: Unconscious
Pairing/characters: Pavel Nedvěd/Zdeněk Grygera
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This happened only in my head. I made it up, so it's complete fiction.
Prompts: 03. Halves for footballslash11.
Word count: 272.
Zdeněk could hear voices, but no words. The noise made him want to scream with frustration, but he did not have the strength to even finish the thought. It slipped from his mind like water through his fingers as he drifted off to sleep once more.
The covers felt heavy against his body the next time woke up; a blur of white at the edge of his vision when he tried to open his eyes. However, the color faded quickly as he gave up and fell back against the pillows.
Only the safety of the hand holding his remained. Always there, every time he was conscious enough to notice. He wanted to squeeze it, but his fingers were still too weak to move. Moments later, his thoughts blurred with dreams again.
***
"I promise, he tried to squeeze my hand." Pavel's tone was urgent, albeit a bit irritated at the obvious distrust. He could feel the doubtful look the nurse gave him even before he had finished his sentence.
"You must be tired. You've been here for hours already."
He could not let the counter-question and the obvious ignorance annoy him. Not now. Not when the tight knot of worry in his stomach and the myriad of scary thoughts in his mind were already too much for him.
Already more than enough to make him snap.
He bit his lip to hold back a sharp answer. "I just want to know that he'll be fine?" he asked after a moment.
"He will be."
The nurse gave him a quick, reassuring nod before she left. Somehow, that motion gave the words more substance.
Title: Conceited
Pairing: Pavel Nedvěd/Zdeněk Grygera, some mentions of Petr Čech and Milan Baroš.
Disclaimer: Lies, lies and more lies.
Rating: PG.
Prompt: 10. Wins for footballslash11.
Word Count: 168.
Zdeněk shifted slightly in his bed and propped himself up on one elbow, suddenly interested. "Petr," he said, more softly than he had intended. "With..."
"Not impressive," Pavel interrupted, not even trying to hide the laugh in his voice. "He wasn't that hard to convince, was he?"
"With the coach sleeping a few seats in front of him? And a couple of youngsters blatantly staring? I guess he might have had a few doubts." A sudden, mischievous glint in his eyes accented the words. "I think we gave them quite a show in the end, though."
Zdeněk smirked; sure that he had won this time. "Now, tell me about you?"
"Milan?" Pavel shrugged and pronounced the name as if it was poisonous.
"What? That Milan? That conceited git? Tell me, were you mad?"
"No. Of course I wasn't. Let's just say..." He paused and allowed a cold, almost cruel smile to form on his lips. "He wasn't that conceited anymore by the time I was done with him."
Title: Not safe for you
Pairing: Unnamed, but should be Gigi Buffon/Pavel Nedvěd.
Disclaimer: Lies, lies and more lies.
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 06. Appearance for footballslash11 and 040. Sight for football100.
Word Count: 271.
I take a step back, still unable to take my eyes off the leather cuffs on your wrist. They are too tight; will be leaving a thin cut if you keep them on for a long time. Still, you kept begging me to tighten them harder. I placed my finger inside at first; wanted to leave you at least some room to move, but you looked me directly in the eyes.
"No," you said. "Do it properly. Please?"
Even with the leather hugging your skin, you kept begging me to tighten it that little bit harder. I've never been able to deny you anything, but at least in the privacy of my own mind, I admit that you sometimes scare me. Not because of the things we do, not because of what you ask of me. You push me too far, sometimes; give me way more than I deserve.
If I cannot keep control, it won't be safe for you anymore.
But for now, I try not to think about it. I trace the outline of your body with my eyes before leaning closer to kiss the top of those red welts on your back. They are fading now, but the slight touch still makes you moan and beg for more.
"Please."
You whisper softly, but there is not even a question in your voice. You know that I'll always give in to you, and even without looking I know that look in your eyes. Wide-open and blue and eager, but not begging. Not begging, because there's no need for you to beg.
The welts won't remain faded for long.
Title: Unconscious
Pairing/characters: Pavel Nedvěd/Zdeněk Grygera
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This happened only in my head. I made it up, so it's complete fiction.
Prompts: 03. Halves for footballslash11.
Word count: 272.
Zdeněk could hear voices, but no words. The noise made him want to scream with frustration, but he did not have the strength to even finish the thought. It slipped from his mind like water through his fingers as he drifted off to sleep once more.
The covers felt heavy against his body the next time woke up; a blur of white at the edge of his vision when he tried to open his eyes. However, the color faded quickly as he gave up and fell back against the pillows.
Only the safety of the hand holding his remained. Always there, every time he was conscious enough to notice. He wanted to squeeze it, but his fingers were still too weak to move. Moments later, his thoughts blurred with dreams again.
***
"I promise, he tried to squeeze my hand." Pavel's tone was urgent, albeit a bit irritated at the obvious distrust. He could feel the doubtful look the nurse gave him even before he had finished his sentence.
"You must be tired. You've been here for hours already."
He could not let the counter-question and the obvious ignorance annoy him. Not now. Not when the tight knot of worry in his stomach and the myriad of scary thoughts in his mind were already too much for him.
Already more than enough to make him snap.
He bit his lip to hold back a sharp answer. "I just want to know that he'll be fine?" he asked after a moment.
"He will be."
The nurse gave him a quick, reassuring nod before she left. Somehow, that motion gave the words more substance.
Title: Conceited
Pairing: Pavel Nedvěd/Zdeněk Grygera, some mentions of Petr Čech and Milan Baroš.
Disclaimer: Lies, lies and more lies.
Rating: PG.
Prompt: 10. Wins for footballslash11.
Word Count: 168.
Zdeněk shifted slightly in his bed and propped himself up on one elbow, suddenly interested. "Petr," he said, more softly than he had intended. "With..."
"Not impressive," Pavel interrupted, not even trying to hide the laugh in his voice. "He wasn't that hard to convince, was he?"
"With the coach sleeping a few seats in front of him? And a couple of youngsters blatantly staring? I guess he might have had a few doubts." A sudden, mischievous glint in his eyes accented the words. "I think we gave them quite a show in the end, though."
Zdeněk smirked; sure that he had won this time. "Now, tell me about you?"
"Milan?" Pavel shrugged and pronounced the name as if it was poisonous.
"What? That Milan? That conceited git? Tell me, were you mad?"
"No. Of course I wasn't. Let's just say..." He paused and allowed a cold, almost cruel smile to form on his lips. "He wasn't that conceited anymore by the time I was done with him."
Title: Not safe for you
Pairing: Unnamed, but should be Gigi Buffon/Pavel Nedvěd.
Disclaimer: Lies, lies and more lies.
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: 06. Appearance for footballslash11 and 040. Sight for football100.
Word Count: 271.
I take a step back, still unable to take my eyes off the leather cuffs on your wrist. They are too tight; will be leaving a thin cut if you keep them on for a long time. Still, you kept begging me to tighten them harder. I placed my finger inside at first; wanted to leave you at least some room to move, but you looked me directly in the eyes.
"No," you said. "Do it properly. Please?"
Even with the leather hugging your skin, you kept begging me to tighten it that little bit harder. I've never been able to deny you anything, but at least in the privacy of my own mind, I admit that you sometimes scare me. Not because of the things we do, not because of what you ask of me. You push me too far, sometimes; give me way more than I deserve.
If I cannot keep control, it won't be safe for you anymore.
But for now, I try not to think about it. I trace the outline of your body with my eyes before leaning closer to kiss the top of those red welts on your back. They are fading now, but the slight touch still makes you moan and beg for more.
"Please."
You whisper softly, but there is not even a question in your voice. You know that I'll always give in to you, and even without looking I know that look in your eyes. Wide-open and blue and eager, but not begging. Not begging, because there's no need for you to beg.
The welts won't remain faded for long.