Some Things Never Change
Rating: R.
Pairing: Giovanni van Bronckhorst/Phillip Cocu. Hints of Jon Dahl Tomasson/Giovanni van Bronckhorst.
Disclaimer: All I have to do is dream, dream dream dream dreeeeeaaaam...
Summary: Even after all those years, things don't change between Gio and Phil. aka_centimetre2 , hope you like it!!
Tonight, back at Holland, at a hotel before he goes back home, Gio doesn’t know why is he so sad, looking out the window of the room. What can be different tonight?
Maybe it’s the way it all ended. So close to a dream of glory. So close to changing history. Every time Gio closes his eyes, he can still remember his shock and his surprise, and then the overflowing glee when he saw he had scored the best goal of all the tournament.
It’s all gone. Like his youth. Like his days at Feyenoord. Like Jon Dahl Tomasson, who stopped loving him a long time ago though their relationship limped along for god knows how long.
Even that strained love is gone.
Gio’s door is open. He hasn’t noticed.
He just feels a pair of arms holding his shoulders and slowly traveling down his chest, wrapping him up in a hug.
“It’s ok.”
“Phil?”
“Shhh…” Phil speaks. “Please. You don’t have to feel bad about what happened at South Africa.”
“It’s not that,” Gio whispers. “It’s… the fact that it’s all gone now. I won’t have another chance. Everything’s gone.”
“Jon too?”
“Jon was gone a long time ago.”
“Do you want to go back?”
Gio opens his eyes. He hadn’t noticed they were closed. And, when he opens them, what he sees are Phil’s two big, green eyes, staring directly into his.
“Go back when?”
In spite of everything, Giovanni lets out a chuckle. “Barcelona would be fine.”
“Really? I liked Barcelona too.”
“I would choose to go seven years back.”
Phil smiles now.
“So would I.”
Seven years.
They both have lived many similar situations.
They sat at the top of the world at the peak of their careers. They remember the days spent at Barcelona, the way they played together, dreamed together, and slept together.
Seven years have passed since then.
“There are some things that haven’t gone away, Giovanni.”
“Are they?” Now the swarthy man feels ridiculous, about to sob in front of Phillip. “Like what?”
“What I feel for you.”
Gio looks at the handsome man in front of him. Dressed in a suit, very formal and everything. Then he thinks about himself, in his jeans and tee.
Well, Phillip had changed too.
However, when he feels the green-eyed man’s lips pressing against his, his hands pulling at his tee, unzipping his jeans…
When he sees Phil naked, his chest moving up and down with the rhythm of his breathing, his legs gently spread over the bed which is not even unmade…
When he presses his body, naked too, against Phillip’s, and he feels the beating of his heart when they lock their lips in a kiss.
And then Gio’s dick is inside Phil, moving slowly, erasing with every thrust the bad memories. The terrible World Cup finale. Jon Dahl Tomasson going away.
Even his retirement.
Every thrust taking him back in time, until they both were younger, seven years younger, and somewhere else.
Phillip Cocu and Giovanni van Bronckhorst, making love as they had done all those years they had been together, their bodies warm against each other’s, their sweat, their fluids.
In Barcelona? In Holland?
That didn’t matter.
What mattered was the sensation of skin on skin. Their hands holding each other as if they never wanted to let go. Phillip with Gio inside, feeling complete. And Giovanni recognizing Phil as his, as something he should never had let go of.
Well, the flame had been there all along, after all. And it seemed like there was a way to patch up those movements in their life that had led them away from what should have been permanent.
Now both were glad some things just never change.
Pairing: Giovanni van Bronckhorst/Phillip Cocu. Hints of Jon Dahl Tomasson/Giovanni van Bronckhorst.
Disclaimer: All I have to do is dream, dream dream dream dreeeeeaaaam...
Summary: Even after all those years, things don't change between Gio and Phil. aka_centimetre2 , hope you like it!!
Tonight, back at Holland, at a hotel before he goes back home, Gio doesn’t know why is he so sad, looking out the window of the room. What can be different tonight?
Maybe it’s the way it all ended. So close to a dream of glory. So close to changing history. Every time Gio closes his eyes, he can still remember his shock and his surprise, and then the overflowing glee when he saw he had scored the best goal of all the tournament.
It’s all gone. Like his youth. Like his days at Feyenoord. Like Jon Dahl Tomasson, who stopped loving him a long time ago though their relationship limped along for god knows how long.
Even that strained love is gone.
Gio’s door is open. He hasn’t noticed.
He just feels a pair of arms holding his shoulders and slowly traveling down his chest, wrapping him up in a hug.
“It’s ok.”
“Phil?”
“Shhh…” Phil speaks. “Please. You don’t have to feel bad about what happened at South Africa.”
“It’s not that,” Gio whispers. “It’s… the fact that it’s all gone now. I won’t have another chance. Everything’s gone.”
“Jon too?”
“Jon was gone a long time ago.”
“Do you want to go back?”
Gio opens his eyes. He hadn’t noticed they were closed. And, when he opens them, what he sees are Phil’s two big, green eyes, staring directly into his.
“Go back when?”
In spite of everything, Giovanni lets out a chuckle. “Barcelona would be fine.”
“Really? I liked Barcelona too.”
“I would choose to go seven years back.”
Phil smiles now.
“So would I.”
Seven years.
They both have lived many similar situations.
They sat at the top of the world at the peak of their careers. They remember the days spent at Barcelona, the way they played together, dreamed together, and slept together.
Seven years have passed since then.
“There are some things that haven’t gone away, Giovanni.”
“Are they?” Now the swarthy man feels ridiculous, about to sob in front of Phillip. “Like what?”
“What I feel for you.”
Gio looks at the handsome man in front of him. Dressed in a suit, very formal and everything. Then he thinks about himself, in his jeans and tee.
Well, Phillip had changed too.
However, when he feels the green-eyed man’s lips pressing against his, his hands pulling at his tee, unzipping his jeans…
When he sees Phil naked, his chest moving up and down with the rhythm of his breathing, his legs gently spread over the bed which is not even unmade…
When he presses his body, naked too, against Phillip’s, and he feels the beating of his heart when they lock their lips in a kiss.
And then Gio’s dick is inside Phil, moving slowly, erasing with every thrust the bad memories. The terrible World Cup finale. Jon Dahl Tomasson going away.
Even his retirement.
Every thrust taking him back in time, until they both were younger, seven years younger, and somewhere else.
Phillip Cocu and Giovanni van Bronckhorst, making love as they had done all those years they had been together, their bodies warm against each other’s, their sweat, their fluids.
In Barcelona? In Holland?
That didn’t matter.
What mattered was the sensation of skin on skin. Their hands holding each other as if they never wanted to let go. Phillip with Gio inside, feeling complete. And Giovanni recognizing Phil as his, as something he should never had let go of.
Well, the flame had been there all along, after all. And it seemed like there was a way to patch up those movements in their life that had led them away from what should have been permanent.
Now both were glad some things just never change.