The Vodka Way
Title: The Vodka Way
Pairing: Xavi Hernandez / Clint Dempsey
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: as real as Jose Mourinho's integrity.
Key Party: Cesc’s All American Party
Summary: in order to prevent two strong characters from clashing, the two men allow the vodka to choose their fate.
Xavi made it into the room first, Clint following just behind him, as he had to close the door. Both men were tingling with excitement of experiencing someone new, someone they would've never considered otherwise.
“So, how do you want to proceed.” Xavi asked, taking a seat on the bed.
“We could get naked and have sex right now.” Clint offered, his dark eyes locked with Xavi's.
There was a slight nod from the Spaniard.
“Top or bottom?” he wondered, realising the moment the words had left his mouth that it could've gone either way.
Clint had that hard man reputation and Xavi would've loved someone rough, but then again, there was so much fun in taming a wild beast. As he looked at the American, he realised the younger man had the same dilemma.
Clint was weighing Xavi carefully, trying to decide what would be the best way to start their night. The thing about key parties was that, unless roles were predetermined by the party host, one had to decide pretty quickly what he wanted out of the encounter.
Yes, he would've liked Xavi to fuck him, but then again, he would've equally loved to spread the older man's legs and fuck him into the mattress.
“We could flip a coin.” Xavi said, deciding to shorten the thinking time. “It's the fairest way, since we could just switch for the second round....”
“Or we could let the vodka decide.” Clint let out, sitting down on the bed in front of Xavi and placing the untouched bottle between them.
“Wicked. I am a big vodka fan.”
***
Half of the bottle had been drunk and half was spilled on the floor, the bottle having been kicked accidentally by Xavi when he suddenly pounced on Clint. They had been drinking and chatting, the American allowing Xavi to expand on his club's recent success, since it obviously made the Catalan more laid back.
It didn't surprise him one bit to discover talking about football was an aphrodisiac for Xavi, his eyes glowing, his hands getting restless and beginning to touch him. He could hold his liquor quite well, while the older man couldn't, so he could carefully note the changes, take them in, encourage them.
They were taking turns in swigging straight from the bottle and to both of their good names, neither attempted to cheat. Clint stayed mostly quiet, a spectator of the great Xavi show, enjoying himself at the expense of the presumably more experienced man who was seemingly losing it after just a few gulps.
It was all going down smoothly, Clint thought, with Xavi closer and closer to reaching that point where he would become completely malleable. The American had not proposed the drinking before sex for no reason, as he indeed had a plan he intended to fully follow.
So it did surprise him when out of the blue and in the middle of his sentence, Xavi came to an abrupt halt, gave him an encompassing lurid look and jumped on him. Taken by surprise, Clint could barely prevent their falling off the bed, as he found himself at the end of a merciless attack engaged by Xavi's lips and hands.
And those dark eyes, large as moons, and that sneaky grin, forcing Clint to start wondering if he had been pranked by someone that wasn't Gerard Pique. That train of thought was abandoned when Xavi pulled down his pants and began to stroke his dick, in rapid, yet somehow fluid moves.
“You're going too fast.” Clint barely breathed out.
Using all his strength he overthrew Xavi and clambered on top of him, taking his time to kiss him properly.
Xavi only smirked, during the kiss and after, his hand reaching for Clint's dick as soon as he could. The struggle for control of this encounter was obvious to both of them, but as Clint reached for the lube and condoms in the nightstand drawer, they realised it was this game that made the whole thing so hot.
Taking their clothes off was the biggest challenge as Xavi somehow imagined he could remove his garments while still keeping tabs on the younger man's erection. Swatting his hand away was of no aid, as Clint was not ready to be let go of. Not even for a second.
But alas, three hands did a better job than two would've and finally both of them were in their birthday suits and the Catalan could devote himself wholly to Clint's throbbing dick.
“Are you always like this?”
“It's all about possession. And what you do with it, of course. I like to put it on the plate for others. Like now.”
And he dove to tentatively lick the cock head, just for a second.
Controlling the angle and depth with his hand, Xavi blew Clint until the American finally came, unable to resist the other man's tongue assaults.
“Don't you even want to shine? To be in the spotlight?” Dempsey asked as soon as caught his breath, his very own kind of teasing.
“I'm always in the spotlight, just marginally so. It's the best position in the world, is it not?”
And spreading his legs, offered Clint the very sight he had been longing for. The American had to admit, the older man knew all the tricks. He crawled over and making good use of the lube, he prepared Xavi in what seemed like deafening silence.
“I never thought my fingers up your ass would actually stop your incessant talking.”
“If more people would only know....”
Biting the inside of his lip to suppress the itch of laughter, Clint pushed into Xavi, one long thrust making the Catalan squirm under him. For a second, Clint thought he had rushed, but the older man pulled him for a hot, wet kiss, which was prompt enough for Clint to continue.
He fucked him hard, deep an most satisfying,jerking him off with one hand, while the other was used as prop.
As he felt Xavi's come hit his stomach and chest, Clint thrust one more time, releasing himself in the condom. Rolling off, he noticed the bottle on the floor, barely a few sips in it.
With Xavi pressing a finger against his hole, round two having already started, the American only bemoaned the lack of more vodka.
Pairing: Xavi Hernandez / Clint Dempsey
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: as real as Jose Mourinho's integrity.
Key Party: Cesc’s All American Party
Summary: in order to prevent two strong characters from clashing, the two men allow the vodka to choose their fate.
Xavi made it into the room first, Clint following just behind him, as he had to close the door. Both men were tingling with excitement of experiencing someone new, someone they would've never considered otherwise.
“So, how do you want to proceed.” Xavi asked, taking a seat on the bed.
“We could get naked and have sex right now.” Clint offered, his dark eyes locked with Xavi's.
There was a slight nod from the Spaniard.
“Top or bottom?” he wondered, realising the moment the words had left his mouth that it could've gone either way.
Clint had that hard man reputation and Xavi would've loved someone rough, but then again, there was so much fun in taming a wild beast. As he looked at the American, he realised the younger man had the same dilemma.
Clint was weighing Xavi carefully, trying to decide what would be the best way to start their night. The thing about key parties was that, unless roles were predetermined by the party host, one had to decide pretty quickly what he wanted out of the encounter.
Yes, he would've liked Xavi to fuck him, but then again, he would've equally loved to spread the older man's legs and fuck him into the mattress.
“We could flip a coin.” Xavi said, deciding to shorten the thinking time. “It's the fairest way, since we could just switch for the second round....”
“Or we could let the vodka decide.” Clint let out, sitting down on the bed in front of Xavi and placing the untouched bottle between them.
“Wicked. I am a big vodka fan.”
***
Half of the bottle had been drunk and half was spilled on the floor, the bottle having been kicked accidentally by Xavi when he suddenly pounced on Clint. They had been drinking and chatting, the American allowing Xavi to expand on his club's recent success, since it obviously made the Catalan more laid back.
It didn't surprise him one bit to discover talking about football was an aphrodisiac for Xavi, his eyes glowing, his hands getting restless and beginning to touch him. He could hold his liquor quite well, while the older man couldn't, so he could carefully note the changes, take them in, encourage them.
They were taking turns in swigging straight from the bottle and to both of their good names, neither attempted to cheat. Clint stayed mostly quiet, a spectator of the great Xavi show, enjoying himself at the expense of the presumably more experienced man who was seemingly losing it after just a few gulps.
It was all going down smoothly, Clint thought, with Xavi closer and closer to reaching that point where he would become completely malleable. The American had not proposed the drinking before sex for no reason, as he indeed had a plan he intended to fully follow.
So it did surprise him when out of the blue and in the middle of his sentence, Xavi came to an abrupt halt, gave him an encompassing lurid look and jumped on him. Taken by surprise, Clint could barely prevent their falling off the bed, as he found himself at the end of a merciless attack engaged by Xavi's lips and hands.
And those dark eyes, large as moons, and that sneaky grin, forcing Clint to start wondering if he had been pranked by someone that wasn't Gerard Pique. That train of thought was abandoned when Xavi pulled down his pants and began to stroke his dick, in rapid, yet somehow fluid moves.
“You're going too fast.” Clint barely breathed out.
Using all his strength he overthrew Xavi and clambered on top of him, taking his time to kiss him properly.
Xavi only smirked, during the kiss and after, his hand reaching for Clint's dick as soon as he could. The struggle for control of this encounter was obvious to both of them, but as Clint reached for the lube and condoms in the nightstand drawer, they realised it was this game that made the whole thing so hot.
Taking their clothes off was the biggest challenge as Xavi somehow imagined he could remove his garments while still keeping tabs on the younger man's erection. Swatting his hand away was of no aid, as Clint was not ready to be let go of. Not even for a second.
But alas, three hands did a better job than two would've and finally both of them were in their birthday suits and the Catalan could devote himself wholly to Clint's throbbing dick.
“Are you always like this?”
“It's all about possession. And what you do with it, of course. I like to put it on the plate for others. Like now.”
And he dove to tentatively lick the cock head, just for a second.
Controlling the angle and depth with his hand, Xavi blew Clint until the American finally came, unable to resist the other man's tongue assaults.
“Don't you even want to shine? To be in the spotlight?” Dempsey asked as soon as caught his breath, his very own kind of teasing.
“I'm always in the spotlight, just marginally so. It's the best position in the world, is it not?”
And spreading his legs, offered Clint the very sight he had been longing for. The American had to admit, the older man knew all the tricks. He crawled over and making good use of the lube, he prepared Xavi in what seemed like deafening silence.
“I never thought my fingers up your ass would actually stop your incessant talking.”
“If more people would only know....”
Biting the inside of his lip to suppress the itch of laughter, Clint pushed into Xavi, one long thrust making the Catalan squirm under him. For a second, Clint thought he had rushed, but the older man pulled him for a hot, wet kiss, which was prompt enough for Clint to continue.
He fucked him hard, deep an most satisfying,jerking him off with one hand, while the other was used as prop.
As he felt Xavi's come hit his stomach and chest, Clint thrust one more time, releasing himself in the condom. Rolling off, he noticed the bottle on the floor, barely a few sips in it.
With Xavi pressing a finger against his hole, round two having already started, the American only bemoaned the lack of more vodka.