Cabin Fever
Title: Cabin Fever
Participants: (I can't tell you the pairings yet, 'cos that ruins the fun!) Raul, Guti, Iker Casillas, Gonzalo Higuain, Raul Albiol, Sergio Ramos, Petr Cech, Carlo Cudicini, David Silva, David Villa, Kaka, Cristiano Ronaldo, Fernando Torres, Esteban Granero, Cesc Fabregas, John Terry, Xabi Alonso, Frank Lampard, Fernando Gago, Joe Cole
Rating: This is PG; the rest...who knows!
Disclaimer: Oh God, this is all made up in my twisted little mind!!
Words: 1400
DEADLINE: Please post your assigned fic no later than 12 pm GMT on Thursday, March 11th. The next party (hosted by pinktoothbrush8 ) will begin on Friday, March 12th!
Cabin One (pinktoothbrush8 )
Iker hiked his overnight bag on his shoulder. Why, exactly, was cabin one so far from the main lodge? He looked at the back of his young teammate, Sergio Canales, wondering how Guti had roped the wide-eyed young lad into this debauchery.
“Your cabin, Mr. Casillas?”
“Am I the first one, then?” Iker wondered as Canales opened the door.
“You’ll have to find out for yourself...”
Iker gave the kid a death stare, and the kid faltered under his captain’s glare.
“Have fun,” he squeaked and ran.
Iker entered the cabin to discover he was, indeed alone. He let out a breath. Not that Iker wasn’t willing to let someone else take charge from time to time, but he liked to know who was taking charge of him. Having seen the guest list, he could imagine someone like Villa getting a little too happy about the idea of having their national team captain at their mercy.
Iker left his bag in the bed room and poured himself a generous scotch, straight. It had worked out so wonderfully well, last time. It would again.
Iker sat on the couch, lost in his thoughts and the warm amber liquid, when the door opened again. He looked up and saw a rather nervous looking David Silva in the doorway, scanning the room frantically.
Silva’s eyes landed on Iker and he visibly relaxed.
“Iker.”
“David.”
Cabin Two (vintagegal16 )
Following the kid from Real Madrid, he hadn’t caught the kid’s name, Joe Cole nervously fiddled with his mobile phone. He hadn’t wanted to come again. Sure, last time was...fuck.
Oh who was he kidding, fucking Cristiano Ronaldo had been so good.
The kid opened the door to Cabin Two. Joe was greeted by the sight of a Spaniard standing at the bar.
Naked.
Joe’s eyes got wide.
“Have fun!” the kid laughed as he closed the door behind him.
“Hi,” the Spaniard, who’s name escaped him, said.
“Hi,” Joe said as he sat his bag on the floor. “I’m Joe Cole.”
“Raul Albiol,” he replied, and smirked at the sight of Joe trying to look him in the eye. “Drink?”
“Please.”
Cabin 3 (pretty_panther )
Fernando Torres kept up a steady stream of conversation with Sergio Canales on their way to Cabin Three. He was relaxed, happy to get whoever he got. He was easy.
He laughed at his own thought. He was, however, pleased to see the cabin was empty as he arrived. Nando rarely got to be in charge, and he loved it.
“Canales, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, Mr. Torres.”
“Can you,” Nando slid a 100 Euro note in the boy’s palm, “Text me as soon as you know who’s coming to join me?”
The young man’s eyes got wide, “But Mr. Guti said.
“Oh,” Nando leaned down and kissed his cheek, groping his ass, “Mr. Guti doesn’t need to know, does he?”
Stunned the young man nodded and quickly departed.
Shame he’s not on the menu.
About ten minutes later, his phone lit up.
“Cesc Fabregas.”
Nando laughed out loud.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Cabin Four (deathinacave )
David Villa was wearing an expression of pure bitchface as he followed the little Real Madrid shit to Cabin Four. Silva had to take that stupid puppy out for one last wee, making them late. He was so going to be the second in the cabin, and David Villa did not like to submit to anyone.
The kid fumbled with the key, and Villa shoved him out of the way, opening the door with a resounding thump against the wall.
Standing in the room was Gonzalo Higuain.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
Cabin Five (trainmad )
Carlo Cudicini had not been sure about this idea at all, but when Petr had called, he’d had to admit he was intrigued at the concept. Sure he was utterly devoted to his Czech, but they both had an understanding that random encounters were permitted. Carlo had just never realized it meant this kind of random.
The young Spaniard leaning the way, kept stealing peeks at the gorgeous Italian, and Carlo smiled at him, well used to this kind of response.
He opened the door, and for a moment, Carlo thought the cabin was unoccupied. Ah, well, that was okay.
The door closed behind him, and Carlo carried his bag to the bedroom.
He found John Terry lying under the sheets, tenting them impressively.
John saw Carlo and laughed. “Cudicini!”
“Hey JT. Is that for me?”
“Absolutely.”
Cabin Six (flexi_straw )
After the escapade of the last key party, Raul hadn’t let Guti stack the deck in anyway this time. He had insisted on Sergio Canales as the sort of master of ceremonies, refusing to let Guti sway him into any planning.
Raul wanted something random and meaningless.
He kissed the young man on the cheek, who was forever in awe of the captains. “Thank you.”
Raul closed the door and observed the cabin. It was hardly a cabin, full of modern furniture, state of the art appliances, and a fully stocked bar.
He stowed his bag in the bedroom and came back to pour himself a glass of wine. He sat on the couch, noticing there wasn’t a television, but a very nice stereo. He turned on some soft music with the remote and sat back to relax.
It was a while until his partner for the evening arrived, but when the door opened again to reveal a tall, lanky Czech, Raul beamed.
“Petr Cech, nice to see you.”
Cabin Seven (4jinx_removing )
Kaka had been surprised that Cris had suggested the party again. Cris had been a little annoyed that Kaka had enjoyed himself so much with their Argentine teammate, but had refused to describe his encounter with Joe Cole, though Ricky knew his lover well enough to know that Cris had been the bottom. Curiouser and curiouser.
Canales left Ricky on his own, and the Brazilian wandered awkwardly around the cabin, peeking into the cabinets to find all manner of sex toys. Guti did know how to throw a torrid party.
Ricky had a very large, black dildo in his hand when the front door swung open again.
“Holy shit,” exclaimed Esteban Granero.
Cabin Eight (rainstorm20 )
Guti swung open the door to the cabin, fingers crossed for something good. He’d deliberately arrived a little late, hoping to be the second. He loved it when people thought they could have control over Guti.
He saw Xabi Alonso.
“Oh, we’ll that’s not so bad then,” Xabi said, having been annoyed Stevie had been unable to come, but he’d supposed there’d been no way they’d have been allowed to be together again.
“Not so bad!” Guti said, annoyed. “I’m fucking amazing!”
Cabin Nine (nanousblues )
Frank Lampard wondered why the hell he was in this cabin in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, Could John not just be happy to fuck each other? To be fair, the last time had been a lot of fun, and John had gotten off so hard hearing about how Frank had fucked that tasty little Spaniard.
He was first in the room, so he got to be in charge. He wondered if he’d get another tasty little Spaniard. One of those Davids would be fun. Or Torres....ooh.
He poured two glasses of fine red wine and relaxed on the couch as he pondered his options. So many hot, little....
He didn’t hear the door open.
“Oh fuck, YOU?”
Frank turned suddenly, spilling his wine.
Cristiano Ronaldo.
Lovely.
Cabin Ten (_runningmascara )
Fernando Gago had missed out on the last party, having been busy with rehab, but from all the chatter in the dressing room, he’d pointedly mentioned to Guti that he wanted to be invited this time.
However, when he opened the door to the cabin, he found himself looking at Sergio Ramos.
Sergio groaned. “God dammit, when do I get to fuck someone new!”
Fer laughed. “Love you too Ramos!”
Participants: (I can't tell you the pairings yet, 'cos that ruins the fun!) Raul, Guti, Iker Casillas, Gonzalo Higuain, Raul Albiol, Sergio Ramos, Petr Cech, Carlo Cudicini, David Silva, David Villa, Kaka, Cristiano Ronaldo, Fernando Torres, Esteban Granero, Cesc Fabregas, John Terry, Xabi Alonso, Frank Lampard, Fernando Gago, Joe Cole
Rating: This is PG; the rest...who knows!
Disclaimer: Oh God, this is all made up in my twisted little mind!!
Words: 1400
DEADLINE: Please post your assigned fic no later than 12 pm GMT on Thursday, March 11th. The next party (hosted by pinktoothbrush8 ) will begin on Friday, March 12th!
Cabin One (pinktoothbrush8 )
Iker hiked his overnight bag on his shoulder. Why, exactly, was cabin one so far from the main lodge? He looked at the back of his young teammate, Sergio Canales, wondering how Guti had roped the wide-eyed young lad into this debauchery.
“Your cabin, Mr. Casillas?”
“Am I the first one, then?” Iker wondered as Canales opened the door.
“You’ll have to find out for yourself...”
Iker gave the kid a death stare, and the kid faltered under his captain’s glare.
“Have fun,” he squeaked and ran.
Iker entered the cabin to discover he was, indeed alone. He let out a breath. Not that Iker wasn’t willing to let someone else take charge from time to time, but he liked to know who was taking charge of him. Having seen the guest list, he could imagine someone like Villa getting a little too happy about the idea of having their national team captain at their mercy.
Iker left his bag in the bed room and poured himself a generous scotch, straight. It had worked out so wonderfully well, last time. It would again.
Iker sat on the couch, lost in his thoughts and the warm amber liquid, when the door opened again. He looked up and saw a rather nervous looking David Silva in the doorway, scanning the room frantically.
Silva’s eyes landed on Iker and he visibly relaxed.
“Iker.”
“David.”
Cabin Two (vintagegal16 )
Following the kid from Real Madrid, he hadn’t caught the kid’s name, Joe Cole nervously fiddled with his mobile phone. He hadn’t wanted to come again. Sure, last time was...fuck.
Oh who was he kidding, fucking Cristiano Ronaldo had been so good.
The kid opened the door to Cabin Two. Joe was greeted by the sight of a Spaniard standing at the bar.
Naked.
Joe’s eyes got wide.
“Have fun!” the kid laughed as he closed the door behind him.
“Hi,” the Spaniard, who’s name escaped him, said.
“Hi,” Joe said as he sat his bag on the floor. “I’m Joe Cole.”
“Raul Albiol,” he replied, and smirked at the sight of Joe trying to look him in the eye. “Drink?”
“Please.”
Cabin 3 (pretty_panther )
Fernando Torres kept up a steady stream of conversation with Sergio Canales on their way to Cabin Three. He was relaxed, happy to get whoever he got. He was easy.
He laughed at his own thought. He was, however, pleased to see the cabin was empty as he arrived. Nando rarely got to be in charge, and he loved it.
“Canales, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure, Mr. Torres.”
“Can you,” Nando slid a 100 Euro note in the boy’s palm, “Text me as soon as you know who’s coming to join me?”
The young man’s eyes got wide, “But Mr. Guti said.
“Oh,” Nando leaned down and kissed his cheek, groping his ass, “Mr. Guti doesn’t need to know, does he?”
Stunned the young man nodded and quickly departed.
Shame he’s not on the menu.
About ten minutes later, his phone lit up.
“Cesc Fabregas.”
Nando laughed out loud.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Cabin Four (deathinacave )
David Villa was wearing an expression of pure bitchface as he followed the little Real Madrid shit to Cabin Four. Silva had to take that stupid puppy out for one last wee, making them late. He was so going to be the second in the cabin, and David Villa did not like to submit to anyone.
The kid fumbled with the key, and Villa shoved him out of the way, opening the door with a resounding thump against the wall.
Standing in the room was Gonzalo Higuain.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
Cabin Five (trainmad )
Carlo Cudicini had not been sure about this idea at all, but when Petr had called, he’d had to admit he was intrigued at the concept. Sure he was utterly devoted to his Czech, but they both had an understanding that random encounters were permitted. Carlo had just never realized it meant this kind of random.
The young Spaniard leaning the way, kept stealing peeks at the gorgeous Italian, and Carlo smiled at him, well used to this kind of response.
He opened the door, and for a moment, Carlo thought the cabin was unoccupied. Ah, well, that was okay.
The door closed behind him, and Carlo carried his bag to the bedroom.
He found John Terry lying under the sheets, tenting them impressively.
John saw Carlo and laughed. “Cudicini!”
“Hey JT. Is that for me?”
“Absolutely.”
Cabin Six (flexi_straw )
After the escapade of the last key party, Raul hadn’t let Guti stack the deck in anyway this time. He had insisted on Sergio Canales as the sort of master of ceremonies, refusing to let Guti sway him into any planning.
Raul wanted something random and meaningless.
He kissed the young man on the cheek, who was forever in awe of the captains. “Thank you.”
Raul closed the door and observed the cabin. It was hardly a cabin, full of modern furniture, state of the art appliances, and a fully stocked bar.
He stowed his bag in the bedroom and came back to pour himself a glass of wine. He sat on the couch, noticing there wasn’t a television, but a very nice stereo. He turned on some soft music with the remote and sat back to relax.
It was a while until his partner for the evening arrived, but when the door opened again to reveal a tall, lanky Czech, Raul beamed.
“Petr Cech, nice to see you.”
Cabin Seven (4jinx_removing )
Kaka had been surprised that Cris had suggested the party again. Cris had been a little annoyed that Kaka had enjoyed himself so much with their Argentine teammate, but had refused to describe his encounter with Joe Cole, though Ricky knew his lover well enough to know that Cris had been the bottom. Curiouser and curiouser.
Canales left Ricky on his own, and the Brazilian wandered awkwardly around the cabin, peeking into the cabinets to find all manner of sex toys. Guti did know how to throw a torrid party.
Ricky had a very large, black dildo in his hand when the front door swung open again.
“Holy shit,” exclaimed Esteban Granero.
Cabin Eight (rainstorm20 )
Guti swung open the door to the cabin, fingers crossed for something good. He’d deliberately arrived a little late, hoping to be the second. He loved it when people thought they could have control over Guti.
He saw Xabi Alonso.
“Oh, we’ll that’s not so bad then,” Xabi said, having been annoyed Stevie had been unable to come, but he’d supposed there’d been no way they’d have been allowed to be together again.
“Not so bad!” Guti said, annoyed. “I’m fucking amazing!”
Cabin Nine (nanousblues )
Frank Lampard wondered why the hell he was in this cabin in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, Could John not just be happy to fuck each other? To be fair, the last time had been a lot of fun, and John had gotten off so hard hearing about how Frank had fucked that tasty little Spaniard.
He was first in the room, so he got to be in charge. He wondered if he’d get another tasty little Spaniard. One of those Davids would be fun. Or Torres....ooh.
He poured two glasses of fine red wine and relaxed on the couch as he pondered his options. So many hot, little....
He didn’t hear the door open.
“Oh fuck, YOU?”
Frank turned suddenly, spilling his wine.
Cristiano Ronaldo.
Lovely.
Cabin Ten (_runningmascara )
Fernando Gago had missed out on the last party, having been busy with rehab, but from all the chatter in the dressing room, he’d pointedly mentioned to Guti that he wanted to be invited this time.
However, when he opened the door to the cabin, he found himself looking at Sergio Ramos.
Sergio groaned. “God dammit, when do I get to fuck someone new!”
Fer laughed. “Love you too Ramos!”