So Far Away
Language English
Fandom Football
Characters David Villa & David Silva
Words 2,173
Summary David Silva drinks a little too much after Spain wins the World Cup
Rating PG-13
Beta'ed No
Disclaimer This is all in my head and in no way meant to be real
Note This was supposed to be a flashback in a bigger story.. but yeah, bigger story not happening, so I figured I would just post this scene. Hope you like it!
Like the summery says, this is set after winning the World Cup.
So Far Away
“Come on, Silva. You've had enough.” David carefully lifted the younger man from the table where Silva had been dancing. The music in the hotel bar was loud and the flashing light were starting to hurt David's eyes.
“But Guaje! I don't wanna!” Silva tried to tug his hand out of David's grip, but David just tightened his grip and made his way towards the door. He passed several other drunken team mates and shook his head. He himself had drunk just enough to get that pleasant buzz in his head, but not enough to get properly drunk. He had promised Silva's mother that he would look after the younger man and he didn't want to break that promise. He had let Silva drink as much as the small midfielder wanted, keeping an eye out for anyone who wanted to take advantage of the midfielder, but he had drawn the line when Silva had climbed on top of a table and started dancing to the loud music.
“Guaje... lemme go... you are so boring.” Silva whined, slurring his words. David just shook his head and gently pushed the smaller man through the doors to the bar. They closed behind them and David took a moment to adjust his eyes to the bright lights in the hotel lobby. When his vision was normal again, he realised that Silva had disappeared.
“Can't leave him alone for a minute.” David groaned to himself, running a head through his hair, messing it up. He looked around the lobby, spotting Silva talking to a plant. The striker chuckled to himself while he walked over to the other man and his conversation partner.
“Silva, come on, leave the plant alone.” David wrapped an arm around the midfielder's waist, gently tugging him away from the plant.
“But... I was talking to the nice lady!” Silva protested, trying to turn away from David and back to the plant.
“You can finish your talk tomorrow when you are sober.” David said, looking forward to tell Silva about this in the morning.
They reached the elevator without any problems and David pushed the button, waiting for the elevator to arrive. He turned around when the doors of the bar opened again, revealing a drunken Iker who leaned heavily on Cesc. Iker looked around and stumbled over to David when he spotted them.
“David, Guaje!” The keeper slurred, throwing his arms around David's neck. “And little David!” Iker reached over to ruffle Silva's hair and giggled when Silva scoffed. David arched his eyebrow at the sound and looked over to Cesc who merely shrugged.
“I don't know how much he has had.” The Arsenal captain pried the keeper off David and made soothing noises when it looked like Iker would burst into tears.
“But... I want my David-bear back! I need my Davi!” Iker almost wailed, reaching out towards David, his hands grabbing in the air.
“No! Davi is mine!” Silva inserted, pulling David against his chest. David just sighed and hoped the elevator would arrive soon. Just then the doors pinged and slid open. The noise distracted Silva and Iker, both turning around to look what made the sound.
“Ooh, it sparkles!” Silva mouthed, awed by the sparkles caused by the mirrors and lights. He stepped forwards and reached out to touch the mirror but Iker moved faster, slapping the midfielder’s hand.
“My sparkly!” He slurred, standing in front of the mirror to shield it from Silva. David looked to the ceiling while he heard Cesc mumble “I'm surrounded by children.”. They joined the two drunks in the small elevator and David pressed the button for the third floor, the floor they were staying on.
“Oh, pretty light. Lemme press another.” Silva stumbled towards the control panel, reaching out to press more buttons. David gently caught his hand and stopped the movement. The midfielder looked at him, eyes big and lips pouting and the striker sighed.
“You can press a button when we arrive.” He told Silva, making the midfielder laugh and clap his hands excitingly, stumbling when the elevator started moving. David caught the small man before he could fall and kept an arm around his waist.
The ride was short and the doors slid open when they arrived on the third floor. David let Silva press a few buttons before leading him out of the elevator, the midfielder leaning against him. The drunken energy had worn off and Silva was tired now, eyelids drooping and shuffling on his feet.
David looked over at Cesc when he heard the Arsenal player grunt and suppressed a chuckle when he saw that Iker had draped himself over the smaller Cesc who was struggling under his weight.
“Can you get him into your room alone?” David wondered when he had reached the room he shared with Silva. Cesc was still a few feet behind them, trying to drag the drunken keeper with him.
“No.” Cesc grunted, pushing Iker to get the keeper to walk on his own. David did chuckle and let Silva lean against their door while he went over to Cesc to help the Arsenal player with their drunken captain.
Thankfully, the keeper’s room wasn’t far from David’s room and after convincing Iker to also lean on the striker, they got there quickly.
“Do you have the key card?” David asked, making a mental note that he had to tell Iker to lose some weight. He was heavier than expected.
“Yeah... could you hold him for a second?” Cesc released his hold on Iker to rummage through his pockets, looking for the key card, while David tightened his hold on the keeper, an arm wrapped around his waist. Iker turned his head towards the striker and brushed their lips together, causing David to freeze.
“Oh Cesc... are we alone yet?” The keeper mumbled while he tried to kiss David again. The striker jerked his head back to avoid the kiss, looking at Cesc with wide eyes.
“OH fuck.” Cesc cursed, dragging Iker off David. The midfielder opened their door and pushed Iker inside before turning back to David.
“Eh... I can explain?” Cesc scratched the back of his head while he avoided looking David in the eyes.
“You and Iker?” David asked, wiping a hand over his lips.
“Eh... yeah... we are together... a couple of years now. No-one really knows.” Cesc explained, rubbing his neck now, looking embarrassed.
“Don't worry. I won't tell.” David ruffled Cesc's hair and turned towards Silva who was watching them with big eyes. “And I'll make sure he doesn't tell anyone either. If he even remembers this tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Cesc said, his voice grateful. A crash sounded behind him from the room and he flinched, almost afraid to turn around and see what happened.
“You better go and make sure he doesn't trash your room.” David chuckled again and wished Cesc good night before walking back to his own room. Silva sat on the ground, still leaning against the door.
“Come on you, let us get you inside.” David pulled Silva up again and used his key card to open the door. He walked Silva inside, kicking the door close behind them. David sat the midfielder down on a bed and let himself fall down onto his own bed. He was exhausted.
They had won the World Cup and almost immediately started partying in the hotel bar. And having Silva pressed against his body awoke feelings he tried so hard to bury during this tournament. David sighed and rolled onto his back, looking straight into the eyes of Silva who was hovering over him.
“Silva? What is it?” David scrambled backwards, creating some space between him and the midfielder.
“Can we do what you did with Iker?” Silva asked, crawling on the bed towards David.
“Wh-what? You mean kissing?” David stuttered, hitting the headboard with his back. Silva crawled up closer and settled on David's lap, having successfully cornered David.
“Yes. Don't you like me?” Silva pouted and David felt his heartbeat double its speed.
“O-ofcourse I like you.”
“Then kiss me.” Silva leaned forward to brush his lips against David's and the older man's mind went blank. Every reason why he really shouldn't do this disappeared as he reached out to pull Silva closer. Their lips met and David took the lead, slipping his tongue inside Silva's mouth. The younger man tasted like the alcohol he had consumed but besides that there was a taste of something that David couldn't name.
The striker ran his hands over Silva's sides, slipping them underneath the jersey that the midfielder still wore and touched the hot skin he had dreamed about for such a long time. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over a nipple and Silva's moan sent shivers down David's spine.
Silva broke the kiss, panting for breath while he moved closer to David, slipping his own unstable hands under the striker's shirt. A moan slipped from David's throat and he tried to capture Silva's lips again but pressed his lips against the midfielder's neck instead. He licked and sucked slightly on the skin, not enough to leave a mark, but enough for Silva to arch his back, rubbing his groin against the striker's crotch, lowly moaning David's name. The sound snapped David out of his daze and he suddenly realised what exactly he was doing.
He pulled away from Silva and untangled himself from the midfielder. David moved to the edge of his bed and buried his head into his hands, angry at himself. He was taking advantage of Silva who was drunk and didn't know what he was doing. He looked down and groaned when he saw his body's reaction to Silva's close proximity. The slight buzz in his head had clearly lowered his boundaries.
“Guaje?”
“I... go to sleep, Silva.” David mumbled, shaking off the hand Silva had placed on his shoulder.
“But...” Silva said, reaching out for David again. The striker stood up quickly, grabbed his pyjamas and fled to the bathroom. He threw some ice cold water into his face to wake up and took a moment or two to stare at himself in the mirror. His lips were swollen, red from the kissing and he could still taste Silva on them. He quickly wiped a hand over his lips and changed into his pyjamas. He took care of his normal night ritual after willing his erection down and exited the bathroom five minutes later.
Silva was still on his bed, deeply asleep. It brought a sad smile to David face. This was probably the one and only time the midfielder would sleep in his bed. He walked over and gently pulled the covers over the midfielder.
“Sweet dreams.” He whispered, running a head through Silva’s hair and kissed his forehead. He looked at him for a few seconds before crossing the space to the midfielder’s bed, slipping under the blanket and burying his head into the midfielder’s pillows. They smelled like Silva, sweet with a hint of spice, and the scent quickly lulled the striker to sleep.
The next day, David woke up from a deep and relaxing sleep, dreams filled with images of Silva. Groaning from the other bed made him more alert and he turned around to face a sleepy looking Silva who was rubbing his eyes. His hair was ruffled, sticking up everywhere, and he had lines of the pillow on his cheek. He looked like a cat who just woke up from a nap and David wanted to pet him to see if he would spin. The striker shook his head, trying to get the weird image of Silva as a cat out his mind.
“David? Why are you in my bed?” Silva mumbled, his voice rough and hoarse.
“Because you fell asleep in mine... don't you remember?” David wondered, not sure how to feel. What if Silva remembered the kiss and regretted it? Would he hate David for kissing him back? And what if he had forgotten it even happened? David didn’t think he could forget that kiss and he was sure it would haunt his memories for a long time.
“Ugh... no... I remember nothing from last night... perhaps the first few drinks?” Silva groaned again, pressing a hand against his temple.
“So you don't remember dancing on a table? Talking to a plant thinking it was a girl?” David asked, wanting to be sure how much Silva remembered.
“I was dancing on a table? No wonder my head feels like shit... I seriously remember nothing. I'm going to take a shower.” The small midfielder stumbled through to room, grabbing some cloths before closing the bathroom door behind him. David listened how the lock clicked into place, a strange aching feeling filling his heart.