Just a Smile
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Javier Hernández/Lionel Messi. Yes, really. Oh! Implied Pep/Messi.
Disclaimer: They said Chicha was around during the "Messi and Friends" game, but it's not like I know that for sure :P. So, let's just take it as a request from a tumblerer, JustSmileAndBeCreative. Yes, I have a tumblr in case you wanna check it out sometime.
Summary: Chicha wants to say hello to Messi because he admires him after all... and we have an Argentinian charmed by the Mexican's sweet personality.
Even though many magazines and sport/gossip shows had criticized Lionel Messi's attitude towards the fans that had crowded to meet him, Javier, Chicharito, was undaunted. He was someone famous too. Surely Lionel wouldn't back out, would he?
The Mexican idol arrived at the stadium then, wearing his now distinctive Manchester United shirt. He felt just a teeny bit ridiculous, but his fans loved that, and he could not disappoint them. So, he made his way among the sea of arms that outstretched for a hug, a kiss, an autograph.
When he finally left the roaring fans, it was time for the game. Obviously, Lionel was a challenge, even for his friends. The game ended 5-4 in favor of Messi's side, underneath the Mexican summer sun, which got Chicha sweating as if he had been running around, even though he wasn't, and the VIP seats had AC.
The game ended, and the stars entered the dressing rooms, flocked by fans with their first row tickets. Messi walked quickly--he was tired. He didn't want any more hands touching him: he just longed for a shower and then wanted some rest before sightseeing or partying or something. However, because he was the host, or something, he let the other guys use the showers first, while he just stayed behind, resting on a bench, letting the heat slide away.
He didn't know how he fell asleep on the bench, but when Lionel woke up, the showers were silent, and it seemed everyone had left. Even the sounds of people had died away. Messi then sat up, rubbing his head. At least, he wouldn't have to deal with fans outside.
Until someone knocked on the dressing room's door.
"Quién es?" (1) Messi asked, as he got up and opened it--just in time to see a smiling Chicha looking at him.
"Chicharito. Qué haces aquí?" (2) the Argentinian asked.
"Lo que muchos fans. Vine a pedirte un autógrafo," (3) the United striker smiled--and, right then, Messi could only think about how nice Javier's smile was. Sure enough, he'd seen that smile at the Champions League final, but then he had forgotten about it, in the midst of the game. Mostly because that smile later turned into tears. But god, it was so charming...
But the autograph. Yes.
Lionel walked on to the Mexican striker, the still smiling striker. It seemed he'd hard a hard time with the fans too, for he was sweaty and his hands were filled with small marker lines, the kind that remain in your fingers when you've used too many of them, capping and uncapping. Too many autographs. Really, sometimes he wondered how the Mexican put up with all those fans. With a smile, no less.
It was Chicha himself who handed the Argentinian a marker.
"En tu remera del United?" (4) Messi asked.
"Por qué no?" (5)
Messi signed over the shirt and then looked at it critically.
"Si no fuera tan feliz en el Barcelona me gustaría jugar en el United. Es un gran equipo. Lo demostraron en esa final." (6)
Chicha smiled. Praise was not a stranger to him anymore, but being praised by the best striker in the world was no small feat.
An idea found its way inside the Mexican's brain, then.
"Lionel!"
"Huh?"
"Y por qué no te pruebas el uniforme del United? Veamos cómo te queda." (7)
The player from Barcelona smiled. He could not imagine himself with that shirt on--but he almost went backwards when he saw the Mexican boy was taking the shirt off right then and there.
"Ahora?"(8)
"Y por qué no?" (5) Trademark smile.
"Porque estoy sudoroso y sucio." (9)
Lionel was only trying hard to look away from the other boy's body, slim but well built, tense muscles, even sexier than his.
"Yo tampoco estoy muy limpio. Hace calor afuera. Es más: intercambiemos. Veamos cómo me veo de azulgrana." (10)
"Oh. Ok."
Messi then took his shirt off, his shirt filled with sweat and grass stains, and handed it to Chicha, while he received the United shirt. He then put it on. It smelled like Chicha, like his sweat and his cologne and even like the people that had been crowding around him waiting for an autograph.
It was sexy.
Javier, for his part, smiled. He had wanted that all the time. He'd had this small crush on Messi after the Argentinian had winked at him during that final. Yet, he hadn't expected his plan to work that easy... he hadn't expected to feel Lionel's shirt on his skin, the smell of football all over it.
"Serías un grande en el United también. Mírate," (11) the Mexican spoke first.
"Oh, vos también. Todo un crack. Te queda bien la remera." (12)
"No creo ser tan bueno como tú. Eres un grande... y te admiro mucho," (13) Chicha finally admitted.
Messi blushed. He was used to being admired, but... somehow, with Javier, it felt different. Mainly because he had to admit he really admired the Mexican striker. Not only because he was a great player, but, because... he was also a great person. Even Lionel Messi had to admit it--he had sometimes got carried away with his fame and fortune, and had given some declarations that had definitely sounded conceited. But Javier had never done that. He just kept on going up, and up, but his humility remained intact.
And that was something Lionel admired a lot.
"No. Vos sos el grande, Javier. Vos sabés como tratar a la gente, como ser humilde en la cima. Yo aún no sé cómo hacer eso..." (14)
"Yo creo que no te tienes que preocupar de eso, Lionel. Sólo es cuestión de no olvidar de dónde veniste." (15)
Suddenly--Messi didn't quite know what had gotten into him. He just knew he had felt moved by the Mexican's words--so he jumped into his arms and wrapped him up in a hug. Chicha returned it avidly, relishing in the feeling of the Argentinian's small body against him.
...Then, it happened.
Maybe it was because Lionel had looked up at him with those sweet brown eyes, that looked nicer than ever.
Maybe it was Chicha's smile, again. Infectious as always.
But, all of a sudden, they weren't hugging. Lionel had reached out and had pressed his lips against the Mexican's, a soft kiss. Why? Messi wasn't so sure. He just knew Javier gave him something. A sense of peace, something he couldn't quite understand, and it had been pretty much something inspired by the heat of the moment. But he had felt that the moment was right... he had felt the urge to kiss the United striker.
He didn't even have time to think whether Chicha would like it or not--whether he would receive a punch on his head for something so gay. But it didn't happen. Instead, Javier was the one who gently slid his tongue in.
Now Chicha's smell was all over Messi.
When they broke the kiss, Lionel looked into the other boy's eyes. And, there, he could see. Javier wanted the same thing he did.
He started taking off the United shirt he was wearing, but the Mexican stopped him.
"No lo hagas. Quiero que te la dejes puesta... así quiero tomarte." (16)
Messi felt an erection grow under his shorts with those words. So, he did as he was told, getting rid of his dirty kit, letting it slide to the floor. Meanwhile, Javier was getting rid of his jeans, kicking away his sneakers, his hands shaking as he undid his belt.
Desire could be touched.
Finally, both strikers were half-naked, one wearing the other's shirt, and suddenly Javier almost tackled Lionel, making him lie down on the bench in the dressing room, legs spread apart--but he didn't go for his entrance. Instead, he just kissed the Argentinian, his hands traveling, teasingly, underneath the United shirt, circling the superstar's nipples, touching his pecs tenderly, almost grazing his stomach.
"Has hecho esto antes?" (17)
"No te preocupes, vos. No me va a doler. Pep me tiene bien acostumbrado." (18)
Chicha allowed himself a smile thinking that the Barcelona coach was so happy with his striker he actually fucked him, but it was also a smile of relief, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to get Lionel ready. So, he only teased the Argentinian's lips with his fingers.
"Sabes lo que quiero." (19)
Oh yes. Lionel knew. So, he parted his lips and licked Javier's fingers: index, middle, ring finger. When Messi had licked them good, the Mexican striker slid one inside the other guy's hole.
One was easy. The second one put up a little more resistance, but nothing that made it terribly uncomfortable. The third one, however, was not that good--but Javier silenced Lionel's moans with kisses. Damn. He was already dripping. At least, that would work as lube...
The United star only withdrew his fingers to spread his precome all over his cock, and then, well lubed up and ready, he bent over Lionel and started entering him, until he was buried to the hilt.
"Oh, Javier!"
The Mexican didn't answer--he kissed the Argentinian slowly but fiercely, relishing when Lionel reacted and slid his hands under his own Barcelona jersey, now touching his body under the fabric. Javier had a better body, abs that were starting to ripple, stronger muscles... it was a pleasure to the fingers.
So, as Lionel's fingertips burnt and curled underneath his own shirt that belonged to someone else right then, Javier started moving harder, quicker, getting closer to orgasm. For his part, Messi scratched a trail of red lines down that delectable body. He was close too--and he came, his seed spilling all over... the shirts. At least, Javier coming inside him wouldn't leave a stain... maybe.
The Mexican pulled out, panting, breathing hard. He then looked at the Barcelona shirt he was still wearing, smelling of sweat and sex. For his part, Messi didn't try to get up. Semen was still spilling down his thighs, and the United shirt he was wearing was stained too.
"Las tendremos que lavar. Vas a perder el autógrafo, vos," (20) he finally spoke.
Chicha laughed, his good natured, sparkling laugh.
"En este momento ya no necesito el autógrafo. Es más, ven conmigo. Podemos lavar esto en la regadera... juntos." (21)
It was then when Lionel remembered he had been looking forward to a shower.
Footnotes
1. Who is it?
2. Chicharito. What are you doing here?
3. What many fans do. I'm here for an autograph.
4. On your United shirt?
5. Why not?
6. If I wasn't so happy at Barcelona I would like to play at United. You're a great team. You showed us in that final.
7. Why don't you try the United kit on? Let's see how it fits you.
8. Now?
9. I'm sweaty and dirty.
10. I'm not that clean either. It's hot outside. In fact, let's switch. Let's see how I look in blue and crimson.
11. You'd be great in United too. Look at you.
12. You too. You're a crack. That shirt suits you.
13. I don't think I'd be as good as you. You're great... and I admire you a lot.
14. No. You're the great one, Javier. You know how to treat people, how to be humble even when you're on top. I don't know how to do that yet...
15. I don't think you have to worry about that, Lionel. You just don't have to forget where you came from.
16. Don't take it off. Leave it on. I want to take you like that.
17. Have you done this before?
18. Don't you worry. It's not going to hurt. Pep has got me used to it.
19. You know what I want.
20. We're going to have to wash them. The autograph's gonna fade, you.
21. I don't need the autograph anymore. In fact, come with me. We can wash this in the shower... together.
Pairing: Javier Hernández/Lionel Messi. Yes, really. Oh! Implied Pep/Messi.
Disclaimer: They said Chicha was around during the "Messi and Friends" game, but it's not like I know that for sure :P. So, let's just take it as a request from a tumblerer, JustSmileAndBeCreative. Yes, I have a tumblr in case you wanna check it out sometime.
Summary: Chicha wants to say hello to Messi because he admires him after all... and we have an Argentinian charmed by the Mexican's sweet personality.
Even though many magazines and sport/gossip shows had criticized Lionel Messi's attitude towards the fans that had crowded to meet him, Javier, Chicharito, was undaunted. He was someone famous too. Surely Lionel wouldn't back out, would he?
The Mexican idol arrived at the stadium then, wearing his now distinctive Manchester United shirt. He felt just a teeny bit ridiculous, but his fans loved that, and he could not disappoint them. So, he made his way among the sea of arms that outstretched for a hug, a kiss, an autograph.
When he finally left the roaring fans, it was time for the game. Obviously, Lionel was a challenge, even for his friends. The game ended 5-4 in favor of Messi's side, underneath the Mexican summer sun, which got Chicha sweating as if he had been running around, even though he wasn't, and the VIP seats had AC.
The game ended, and the stars entered the dressing rooms, flocked by fans with their first row tickets. Messi walked quickly--he was tired. He didn't want any more hands touching him: he just longed for a shower and then wanted some rest before sightseeing or partying or something. However, because he was the host, or something, he let the other guys use the showers first, while he just stayed behind, resting on a bench, letting the heat slide away.
He didn't know how he fell asleep on the bench, but when Lionel woke up, the showers were silent, and it seemed everyone had left. Even the sounds of people had died away. Messi then sat up, rubbing his head. At least, he wouldn't have to deal with fans outside.
Until someone knocked on the dressing room's door.
"Quién es?" (1) Messi asked, as he got up and opened it--just in time to see a smiling Chicha looking at him.
"Chicharito. Qué haces aquí?" (2) the Argentinian asked.
"Lo que muchos fans. Vine a pedirte un autógrafo," (3) the United striker smiled--and, right then, Messi could only think about how nice Javier's smile was. Sure enough, he'd seen that smile at the Champions League final, but then he had forgotten about it, in the midst of the game. Mostly because that smile later turned into tears. But god, it was so charming...
But the autograph. Yes.
Lionel walked on to the Mexican striker, the still smiling striker. It seemed he'd hard a hard time with the fans too, for he was sweaty and his hands were filled with small marker lines, the kind that remain in your fingers when you've used too many of them, capping and uncapping. Too many autographs. Really, sometimes he wondered how the Mexican put up with all those fans. With a smile, no less.
It was Chicha himself who handed the Argentinian a marker.
"En tu remera del United?" (4) Messi asked.
"Por qué no?" (5)
Messi signed over the shirt and then looked at it critically.
"Si no fuera tan feliz en el Barcelona me gustaría jugar en el United. Es un gran equipo. Lo demostraron en esa final." (6)
Chicha smiled. Praise was not a stranger to him anymore, but being praised by the best striker in the world was no small feat.
An idea found its way inside the Mexican's brain, then.
"Lionel!"
"Huh?"
"Y por qué no te pruebas el uniforme del United? Veamos cómo te queda." (7)
The player from Barcelona smiled. He could not imagine himself with that shirt on--but he almost went backwards when he saw the Mexican boy was taking the shirt off right then and there.
"Ahora?"(8)
"Y por qué no?" (5) Trademark smile.
"Porque estoy sudoroso y sucio." (9)
Lionel was only trying hard to look away from the other boy's body, slim but well built, tense muscles, even sexier than his.
"Yo tampoco estoy muy limpio. Hace calor afuera. Es más: intercambiemos. Veamos cómo me veo de azulgrana." (10)
"Oh. Ok."
Messi then took his shirt off, his shirt filled with sweat and grass stains, and handed it to Chicha, while he received the United shirt. He then put it on. It smelled like Chicha, like his sweat and his cologne and even like the people that had been crowding around him waiting for an autograph.
It was sexy.
Javier, for his part, smiled. He had wanted that all the time. He'd had this small crush on Messi after the Argentinian had winked at him during that final. Yet, he hadn't expected his plan to work that easy... he hadn't expected to feel Lionel's shirt on his skin, the smell of football all over it.
"Serías un grande en el United también. Mírate," (11) the Mexican spoke first.
"Oh, vos también. Todo un crack. Te queda bien la remera." (12)
"No creo ser tan bueno como tú. Eres un grande... y te admiro mucho," (13) Chicha finally admitted.
Messi blushed. He was used to being admired, but... somehow, with Javier, it felt different. Mainly because he had to admit he really admired the Mexican striker. Not only because he was a great player, but, because... he was also a great person. Even Lionel Messi had to admit it--he had sometimes got carried away with his fame and fortune, and had given some declarations that had definitely sounded conceited. But Javier had never done that. He just kept on going up, and up, but his humility remained intact.
And that was something Lionel admired a lot.
"No. Vos sos el grande, Javier. Vos sabés como tratar a la gente, como ser humilde en la cima. Yo aún no sé cómo hacer eso..." (14)
"Yo creo que no te tienes que preocupar de eso, Lionel. Sólo es cuestión de no olvidar de dónde veniste." (15)
Suddenly--Messi didn't quite know what had gotten into him. He just knew he had felt moved by the Mexican's words--so he jumped into his arms and wrapped him up in a hug. Chicha returned it avidly, relishing in the feeling of the Argentinian's small body against him.
...Then, it happened.
Maybe it was because Lionel had looked up at him with those sweet brown eyes, that looked nicer than ever.
Maybe it was Chicha's smile, again. Infectious as always.
But, all of a sudden, they weren't hugging. Lionel had reached out and had pressed his lips against the Mexican's, a soft kiss. Why? Messi wasn't so sure. He just knew Javier gave him something. A sense of peace, something he couldn't quite understand, and it had been pretty much something inspired by the heat of the moment. But he had felt that the moment was right... he had felt the urge to kiss the United striker.
He didn't even have time to think whether Chicha would like it or not--whether he would receive a punch on his head for something so gay. But it didn't happen. Instead, Javier was the one who gently slid his tongue in.
Now Chicha's smell was all over Messi.
When they broke the kiss, Lionel looked into the other boy's eyes. And, there, he could see. Javier wanted the same thing he did.
He started taking off the United shirt he was wearing, but the Mexican stopped him.
"No lo hagas. Quiero que te la dejes puesta... así quiero tomarte." (16)
Messi felt an erection grow under his shorts with those words. So, he did as he was told, getting rid of his dirty kit, letting it slide to the floor. Meanwhile, Javier was getting rid of his jeans, kicking away his sneakers, his hands shaking as he undid his belt.
Desire could be touched.
Finally, both strikers were half-naked, one wearing the other's shirt, and suddenly Javier almost tackled Lionel, making him lie down on the bench in the dressing room, legs spread apart--but he didn't go for his entrance. Instead, he just kissed the Argentinian, his hands traveling, teasingly, underneath the United shirt, circling the superstar's nipples, touching his pecs tenderly, almost grazing his stomach.
"Has hecho esto antes?" (17)
"No te preocupes, vos. No me va a doler. Pep me tiene bien acostumbrado." (18)
Chicha allowed himself a smile thinking that the Barcelona coach was so happy with his striker he actually fucked him, but it was also a smile of relief, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to get Lionel ready. So, he only teased the Argentinian's lips with his fingers.
"Sabes lo que quiero." (19)
Oh yes. Lionel knew. So, he parted his lips and licked Javier's fingers: index, middle, ring finger. When Messi had licked them good, the Mexican striker slid one inside the other guy's hole.
One was easy. The second one put up a little more resistance, but nothing that made it terribly uncomfortable. The third one, however, was not that good--but Javier silenced Lionel's moans with kisses. Damn. He was already dripping. At least, that would work as lube...
The United star only withdrew his fingers to spread his precome all over his cock, and then, well lubed up and ready, he bent over Lionel and started entering him, until he was buried to the hilt.
"Oh, Javier!"
The Mexican didn't answer--he kissed the Argentinian slowly but fiercely, relishing when Lionel reacted and slid his hands under his own Barcelona jersey, now touching his body under the fabric. Javier had a better body, abs that were starting to ripple, stronger muscles... it was a pleasure to the fingers.
So, as Lionel's fingertips burnt and curled underneath his own shirt that belonged to someone else right then, Javier started moving harder, quicker, getting closer to orgasm. For his part, Messi scratched a trail of red lines down that delectable body. He was close too--and he came, his seed spilling all over... the shirts. At least, Javier coming inside him wouldn't leave a stain... maybe.
The Mexican pulled out, panting, breathing hard. He then looked at the Barcelona shirt he was still wearing, smelling of sweat and sex. For his part, Messi didn't try to get up. Semen was still spilling down his thighs, and the United shirt he was wearing was stained too.
"Las tendremos que lavar. Vas a perder el autógrafo, vos," (20) he finally spoke.
Chicha laughed, his good natured, sparkling laugh.
"En este momento ya no necesito el autógrafo. Es más, ven conmigo. Podemos lavar esto en la regadera... juntos." (21)
It was then when Lionel remembered he had been looking forward to a shower.
Footnotes
1. Who is it?
2. Chicharito. What are you doing here?
3. What many fans do. I'm here for an autograph.
4. On your United shirt?
5. Why not?
6. If I wasn't so happy at Barcelona I would like to play at United. You're a great team. You showed us in that final.
7. Why don't you try the United kit on? Let's see how it fits you.
8. Now?
9. I'm sweaty and dirty.
10. I'm not that clean either. It's hot outside. In fact, let's switch. Let's see how I look in blue and crimson.
11. You'd be great in United too. Look at you.
12. You too. You're a crack. That shirt suits you.
13. I don't think I'd be as good as you. You're great... and I admire you a lot.
14. No. You're the great one, Javier. You know how to treat people, how to be humble even when you're on top. I don't know how to do that yet...
15. I don't think you have to worry about that, Lionel. You just don't have to forget where you came from.
16. Don't take it off. Leave it on. I want to take you like that.
17. Have you done this before?
18. Don't you worry. It's not going to hurt. Pep has got me used to it.
19. You know what I want.
20. We're going to have to wash them. The autograph's gonna fade, you.
21. I don't need the autograph anymore. In fact, come with me. We can wash this in the shower... together.