Sun Block
Language English
Fandom Football
Characters Iker Muniain & Gorka Iraizoz
Words 1.534
Summary The Athletic boys make full use of a few free hours and beautiful weather
Rating R-ish
Beta'ed No
Disclaimer This is all in my head and in no way meant to be real.
Note So, beautiful weather today and this little thing popped in my head when I had to wait for my train, giving me a few minutes to just enjoy the sun shine.
Sun Block
“Use the sun block.”
“No.”
“You're going to get burned.”
“Nah, it will be fine.”
Gorka sighed and put the tube of sun block back in his bag. He picked his book up from the small table next to him and settled comfortable in his lounge chair, opening the book at the page he had bookmarked. He had positioned a parasol next to his chair, providing some cool shadow where he could sit and read without having to fear that the sun would burn his sensitive skin. Iker was laying on his front in the chair next to him, full in the sunshine, listening to his iPod. The rest of their team mates were laying in their own chairs or messing around in the cool water of the hotel pool.
They had a game later this night and just finished training and, having no other tasks between now and dinner, they took full advantage of the beautiful weather to relax and get a nice tan. Gorka had followed the guys a bit reluctantly, wanting to read a bit in peace, but Iker had promised him that no-one would bother him.
And the striker was right. In the hour that Gorka sat under his parasol, no-one had bothered him. The noise from the pool was sometimes loud but not loud enough to annoy the keeper. Iker had joined the younger players in the pool for awhile before coming back to lay next to Gorka, listening to his music.
Something sparkling caught Gorka's eye and he looked up from his book. Iker hadn't towelled off before laying down and the tiny waterdrops on his back glistered in the sun. The keeper swallowed, throat suddenly dry and hands itching to touch the pale skin, creating patterns with his fingers. His mind fed him images of what he could do if they were alone, a mix of memory and fantasy.
Gorka blushed as he felt the tell-tale stirrings in his groin and tried to focus on his book again but it didn't work. His mind kept giving him images of the many nights he had Iker writhing under him, the many times they had kissed, hot and dirty.
The keeper gave reading up as a lost cause and put the book down, getting up from the chair. Iker turned his head as he saw Gorka move and took his headphone off.
“Where are you going?” He asked curiously, a small frown on his face.
“I'm going to take a dip in the pool to cool off.” The keeper took his shirt off, glad that he had listened to the blond striker when Iker had said that he should wear his swim shorts.
“Oh... oh!” Iker smiled but it turned wicked when he looked Gorka over.
“Yeah, you should definitely go 'cool off'.” He nodded at Gorka's crotch and the keeper groaned as he realised that his half-hard erection was showing.
“It is your fault.” The goalie muttered. The striker grinned smugly, clearly pleased that his body could cause such a reaction from the older man.
“Like what you see then?” Iker asked, tone suggestive as he wiggled his ass. Gorka just shook his head and headed to the pool, leaving his teasing boyfriend behind.
He frowned as he noted that his team mates were standing in a circle around something in the deeper end of the pool and he changed his direction, moving to the players instead of the side where the water was shallower.
Fernando and Javi were standing in the middle of the circle, both of them carrying an Ander on their shoulder, Itu on Javi and Ander on Fernando. They were wrestling, trying to throw the other in the water while their team mates were cheering for them, shouting encouragements and insults. Fernando had one hand clasped around Ander's ankle, pushing at Javi with the other while the defender tried to kick the striker, hoping that the blond would lose his balance.
Gorka shook his head at the immaturity of it all, glad that Iker was still tanning on the chair otherwise the striker would insist that he and Gorka joined the wrestling. He went back to the shallower part of the pool and slipping into the cool water. He sighed in relief when the cold shock to his system killed his erection quickly and stayed in the cool water for a few minutes, soaking up the sun.
He looked over at his team mates when a loud cheering erupted, seeing a cheering Fernando and Ander while Javi and Itu re-emerged from the water. He shook his head again and climbed out of the pool, stealing a towel from a team mate, grinning as he saw that it was an Athletic towel.
He went back to his chair, smiling softly as he noticed that Iker was asleep. He gently ruffled the striker's short hair and settled back into his chair, picking his book up again.
It was an hour later when a member of the staff called that they had half an hour left before dinner and Gorka sighed, closing his book. He had to change his clothes for suitable dinner clothes and he bet Iker wanted to take a shower before eating. He looked over and smiled as the striker was still asleep, mouth open and snoring lightly.
“Iker? Wake up. Hey, wake up.” The keeper softly shook Iker's shoulder, smiling as the striker moved, slapping his hand away.
“Come on, wake up.”
“Don't wanna.” Iker mumbled and turned on his side, away from Gorka. The keeper winced as he saw that the striker's back was red, clearly burned by the sun. He carefully touched the skin and bit his cheek as Iker let out a surprised pained sound. The blond twisted around to see what Gorka did and hissed when his back touched the chair.
“Iker, your back is really, really burned.” Gorka reached over and helped Iker sit up, careful of his back.
“It hurts.” Iker whimpered and Gorka had to resist the urge to hug the striker tightly and whisper soothing words.
“I have some cooling gel in my room, it will help.” He tugged the blond up and pressed a kiss against his temple when he was sure no-one was watching them. Iker bit his lip and clung to Gorka, wincing every time a movement pulled on his burned skin.
They took the lift up to their floor and Gorka used his keycard to open the door to his room, letting Iker in first before closing the door. The small striker flopped down on his bed, groaning in pain. The keeper rummaged around in his toiletries before finding his tube of cooling gel. He climbed on the bed next to Iker and squeezed some of the gel on his hand.
“It's going to be cold.” Gorka warned before putting his hands on Iker who hissed at the cold contact on his sensitive skin. The keeper softly rubbed the gel over the striker's back, massaging the sore skin.
Iker shifted, laying down more comfortably and Gorka straddled his thight, his back starting to hurt from the way he had been leaning over the striker. He squeezed more gel on his hand, spreading the cool stuff from shoulder to the edge of Iker's swim shorts, noting that the redness of the skin was lessening.
“You okay?” The goalie asked, rubbing circles now, the gel slowly disappearing into the skin. Iker nodded, letting out soft noises that turned from pain to pleasure.
Gorka could feel himself responding to the sounds and the position he was in and moved to get off Iker, the striker stopping him by grabbing his knee. He craned his head to look at the keeper, brown eyes dark and full of lust.
“Don't stop, please?” His voice was low and slightly hoarse, the sound going straight to Gorka's groin. He settled back on the striker's thights and continued his massage, letting his fingers hit Iker's pleasure points, making the blond moan softly. The blond's hand travelled from his knee to his crotch, palming the growing erection and the keeper moaned, bucking his hips slightly.
“Iker, we can't. We have dinner and a game.” Gorka whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on Iker's still too hot skin. The striker twisted around, eyes still filled with desire.
“Please? Just a handjob?” He begged and the keeper swallowed, throat dry. Iker knew he couldn't resist him when he begged and used it to his full advantage. Gorka growled, swooping in to capture the blond's lips in a hard kiss, tongue demanding entrance. He could feel the striker grin and he spread his hand on Iker back, digging the tops of his fingers hard into the still sensitive skin. The blond gasped and the keeper took the moment to shift their position, his own hand travelling down the smooth abs to the edge of the striker's shorts.
In the end they were only five minutes late for dinner, ignoring their giggling team mates as Gorka told the coach that they had some problems with the shower, not a total lie as their hair was still wet from a hurried shower.