Lazy Afternoons
Language English
Fandom Football
Characters David Villa & David Silva
Words 2,091
Summary David Silva creates a twitter account with some help from David Villa
Rating PG-13
Beta'ed No
Disclaimer This is all in my head and in no way meant to be real
Note This is for the people that weren’t very happy with my last Silvilla. Warning: Pure fluff. It is disgusting.
Oh and look, another one-shot that got way longer than expected. Whoops
Lazy Afternoons
“And what do I do now?”
“You have to pick a username.” David Villa tapped the screen lightly, right where the cursor was blinking in the empty box.
“How is... DavidSilva?” David Silva typed out the username, fingers moving over the keys of his laptop. They were on the bed of his childhood bedroom in Gran Canaria, laying on their stomachs with the laptop in front of them on the sheets, bodies pressed together, shoulder against shoulder, hip against hip and socked feet tangled together. Their closed proximity caused Silva to brush his arm over Villa’s every time he typed something but he didn’t mind, loving the way the striker’s skin felt.
A loading symbol appeared next to his username and he frowned when it turned into a red cross with the text ‘This username is already taken!’.
“What? How is it already taken?” He muttered, frowning some more at his laptop before hitting backspace, removing the username.
“There are a lot of fake accounts and fan clubs on twitter. You have no idea how many variations I had to try with my name and number before I got ‘Guaje7Villa’.” Villa smiled, reaching over to type in a new name.
“David21Silva?” Silva asked, looking at what Villa had typed before nodding in approval.
“Sure, why not? Half the national team has their name and number in it somewhere.” Villa shrugged, jostling Silva a little.
“Also taken!” Silva exclaimed when the red cross appeared again.
“Don’t worry, it is just the second try.” Villa chuckled before trying ‘DavidSilva21’.
“And a red cross.” Silva sighed, slumping against Villa. The striker laughed and draped an arm around the midfielder, pressing a sloppy wet kiss against his cheek.
“Don’t despair, that was only try number three.” Villa gently pushed his head against Silva’s, capturing his lips for a sweet kiss, smiling at the midfielder with sparkling brown eyes.
“Come on, let’s try again.” The striker titled his head to the laptop, nudging his shoulder against Silva’s to get the midfielder out his daze.
“Hu? Oh! Okay.” Mumbled Silva, still looking with glazed-over brown eyes at the striker as Villa tried a new username.
“Uuugh.” The midfielder groaned when the fourth one was taken too.
They spent half an hour trying out different combinations of Silva’s name and shirt number, getting increasingly more annoyed when the red cross kept telling them the username was already taken.
“Even DavidJosuéJiménezSilva is taken. Why would someone take my full name?” Silva groaned, burying his head in the sheets and refusing to look at the screen again.
“Hey look, this one isn’t taken.” Villa sound, an amused tone to his voice. Silva groaned again and lifted his head, a slightly hopeful look on his face that disappeared when he saw the username.
“Guaje?” He said, his voice dangerously calm.
“Yeah?” The striker replied, a smug smile on his face and his brown eyes sparkling with mischief.
“These are random letters and numbers.”
“I know. It is the perfect name, noh? Hrdf95njdfsh76.” His voice was definitely smug now as he spelled the username slowly and Silva growled, pouncing on the striker. Villa let out an surprised ‘oof’ and rolled on his back, giving the midfielder the chance to straddle the older man.
They looked each other for a few heartbeats and Silva softened his glare, leaning down. Villa smiled and settled his hands on the midfielder’s hip, thumbs sliding under the younger man’s shirt and stroking the skin. Silva smiled and leaned down more, brushing his lips over the striker’s.
Villa closed his eyes and Silva grinned, pressing a quick kiss on his lips before running his hands over the striker’s side, tickling him. The older man gasped, his eyes snapping open and a surprised look on his face as he started to laugh uncontrollably.
Silva kept tickling him until Villa gripped his hips, turning them over and grinning down at the midfielder, a little breathless.
“Shouldn’t we continue to try usernames for my twitter?” Silva asked after Villa started at him for minutes, his breathing back to normal again.
“Maybe. I’m kinda comfortable like this.” The striker grinned, wriggling a bit. Silva smiled softly and reached out, pulling Villa down to kiss him. The older man smiled against his lips before kissing him back.
They kissing a little longer, moving around on the bed until they were settled against the headboard, Silva laying between Villa’s legs, his body draped over the striker’s chest and his arms around Villa’s neck, fingers tangled in soft black hair as they continued to make out.
Villa eventually pulled away, panting softly, and cuddled with the midfielder, arms wrapped around him. Silva pressed his face against the striker’s neck, softly kissing the skin there.
“You still want to continue with the twitter stuff?” The older man asked, voice soft. Silva answered with a sleepy rumbling sound.
“You’re just like a cat.” Villa chuckled, petting the midfielder’s messy hair.
“Mraw.” Silva grinned, pawing Villa’s chest. The striker grinned and rested his head on top of Silva’s, taking in his scent, sweet, spicy and a hint of salty ocean, reminding Villa of a sunny day on the beach.
“Okay, time to continue with this twitter stuff. I still don’t get why I need one.” He mumbled, wriggling out of Villa’s grasp and grabbing the laptop that somehow still was on the bed, dangerously close to the edge after their rolling around. He settled between the striker’s legs again, his back against Villa’s strong chest and placed the laptop in his lap.
“Because the whole national team either has a twitter or a facebook and I know you like to be in direct contact with your fans, so twitter is the best option.” Villa explained, resting his chin on Silva’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the midfielder’s waist.
“Hmm.” Silva hummed in agreement, finger sliding over the touchpad so the screen turned back on.
“Do you know a username we haven’t tried yet?” Silva shivered when Villa’s breath ghosted over his ear, the arms around him tightening their grip.
“Hmm, how about 21lva? Like my logo?” Silva asked, already typing away. Villa hummed in approval and the midfielder looked anxiously at the loading symbol, biting his lower lip as his eyes scanned over the word ‘validating’ next to the symbol.
It disappeared and Silva closed his eyes, not wanting to see the red cross again.
“Open your eyes, Poni.” Villa whispered, kissing Silva’s neck. The midfielder opened his eyes and smiled when he saw a green checkmark with ‘username is available’.
“It is available.” He turned his head, nose bumping against the striker’s.
“It is. Now click on ‘create my account’ before someone else takes it.” Villa nudged Silva and the midfielder looked back at his laptop, mouse hovering above the yellow button. He frowned when he noticed the tiny letters, telling him that he would agree with the terms.
“Shouldn’t I read the term first?” He asked, a bit unsure.
“Nah, Cesc had me read them when he helped me create my account. I promise you are not selling your soul or first-born son.” The striker chuckled but Silva tensed at the mention of Cesc. He clicked on the big yellow button and smiled faintly as he created his account.
“And now?” He asked, fingers tapping the rhythm of a popular pop song on his laptop.
“We wait until you get the confirmation mail and then you can active your account and tweet your followers.” Villa explained, his hands wandering underneath the midfielder’s shirt, stroking skin.
“Alright.” Silva laid the laptop away and snuggled closer to Villa, letting his head drop against the striker’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
“Guaje, why was Cesc helping you create a twitter account?” Silva asked after a few minutes of silence, voice deceivingly calm.
“He was visiting me at the hospital when I was creating mine and he offered to help. He said I had to read all the terms to make sure. Took me a whole hour before I was done and then he told me it wasn’t necessary. I got Gerard to prank him as revenge.” Villa chuckled as he recounted the story.
“I see.” Silva said flatly.
“Silva... David, there is nothing between me and Cesc. You know that.” The striker nuzzled Silva’s neck and the midfielder sighed. He turned his head to kiss Villa, the kiss soft and apologizing.
“I know, I’m sorry. I liked it better when he was at Arsenal and I only had to worry about Messi.” He was smiling as he spoke and Villa laughed, lines around his sparkling brown eyes crinkling.
“You are being silly.” The striker kissed Silva’s cheek, snuggling closer.
“I know. But you still love me.” The midfielder’s tone was cheeky and he smiled when he felt Villa’s lips curling against his cheek.
“Of course I do.” Villa cupped Silva’s head with one hand, turning him around so he could kiss him better.
The laptop made a noise and Silva pulled away reluctantly, pressing his lips against the junction of Villa’s neck and shoulder before getting off Villa completely, rolling on his stomach and getting the laptop again. The striker spread a hand on his lower back and the midfielder smiled, heart filling with affection. He opened the new mail from twitter and clicked on the activation link. A new tab with twitter opened and Silva cheered softly as he read the text that told him he could start tweeting.
“Now, go follow me.” Villa poked his side, making Silva twitch away from the ticklish touch.
“Hmm, who says I want to follow you?” Silva grinned as Villa gasped in fake outrage.
“I help you through the long and painful process of creating a twitter account and this is how you thank me?” The striker asked affronted, nose in the air.
“Yup. Hey Nando! Nando, come here please?” Silva called after looking up and noticing his brother walking by the room. The younger man sighed before coming inside.
“You two are disgustingly cuddly, you know.” He muttered as he sat down on the bed.
“Look, I made a twitter. What is your account?” He turned the laptop around so Fernando could see what he meant.
“Finally! Even your grandpa boyfriend had a twitter before you.” Fernando grinned as he typed in his twitter username.
“Hey, I resent that! I’m only four years older than him.” Villa muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as he shot a glare at Fernando.
“Uhu, which means that you are old, grandpa.” Silva’s brother grinned and showed Silva how he could follow people. Villa grumbled, muttering curses under his breath.
“See, you just look up who you want to follow and click here.” Fernando explained, giving Silva the laptop back.
“I could have told you that.” Villa mumbled, loud enough for Silva to hear.
“But you didn’t and now Nando had to tell me.” Silva turned his head around, sticking his tongue out and Villa slapped his ass, making the midfielder gasp.
“Right, I’m leaving before I see things I really don’t want to see. Grandpa, mom wanted me to remind you that dinner is ready soon and that you should get packing as your flight is leaving in four hours.” Fernando got up from the bed and inched out the room, closing the door behind him. Silva closed his laptop and crawled to the edge of the bed, setting the laptop on the floor before moving back to Villa, settling in his lap and kissing him.
“What about your twitter? Shouldn’t you follow some more people?” Villa asked, panting when the midfielder broke the kiss.
“I can do that tomorrow, I only have a little bit of time left to spend with you. Why do you have to leave so soon?” Silva mumbled, kissing the striker’s jaw line.
“Training starts tomorrow and I get to hear when I can return to the field.” Villa mumbled back, voice exited and Silva’s heart skipped a beat at the prospect of playing together again. He pressed himself closer to the striker and Villa slipped his hands underneath the midfielder’s shirt, stroking the hot skin, making Silva gasp.
“So let’s make the most of now, yeah?” Villa smiled, sliding his hands over Silva’s back, fingers following the younger man’s spine before cupping the midfielder’s ass, pulling him even closer before capturing his lips, breaking the kiss for a few seconds to whisper “I love you” against Silva’s lips before claiming them again.