Born to Run (Part 23/29)
Titie: Born to Run (Part 23/29)
Characters: Sergio Ramos, Fernando Torres, Iker Casillas, Cesc Fábregas, David Beckham
Rating: NC-17 from here on out just to be safe
Disclaimer: Tragically untrue.
Summary: Tramps like us, baby we were born to run.
Notes: Don't you forget about me.
one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven. twelve. thirteen. fourteen. fifteen. sixteen. seventeen. eighteen. nineteen. twenty. twenty-one. twenty-two.
Fernando waits until he's sure David is gone from the house, that he's across the yard and well to the barn before he gets up. Dusk is settling on the house, leaving it quiet as a whisper and empty. He mentally counts and knows there are only two people in this house, that the rest are on the run or at baseball games or pulling on old leather work gloves in the barn and ignoring the hardness in their jeans to repair, to clean, to forget for awhile. He places the lock of Sergio's hair reverently on the bedside table and realizes for the hundredth time that this isn't his room. (It could be. It very well could be, one day.) He runs his fingers over the little bit of hair before his face hardens, a time-earned frown taking over as he steps from his room and into the hallway, his eyes on one door and one door only.
He doesn't knock but he doesn't need to. Iker has been expecting him. Fernando can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way he doesn't flinch when Fernando pushes the door open without trying to be quiet. He stands in the doorway, staring at Iker's curled, broad back in one of his high school t-shirts, at the way Iker is staring out the window in a profound silence, one befitting of a man and not a boy who still feels as helpless as Iker does. Fernando finally glances around and sees the clothes everywhere, the half-packed duffel bag, the toothbrush laying on top of a small pile of money, a twenty and some ones and a bunch of coins. He steps into the room and closes the door. Iker only reacts when he hears the lock turn.
"I need to talk to you," Fernando says as evenly as he can, his fingers lingering on the doorknob as if he really doesn't want to do this but he does. He has to. All he has to think about is his Davey's busted knuckles and the heartbreaking sounds of his sobs and he's furious all over again. He waits for Iker to say something, anything, and he nearly growls when he doesn't. "I said I need to fucking talk to you. So listen to me." Fernando kicks the duffel bag, sending the clothes flying and then Iker is on his feet, standing a full four inches taller than Fernando but Fernando is furious and blind with it.
"Nothing to talk about. You win, right? You got the note and you got your memento and you fucked up my life. You won."
Fernando just blinks at him, not quite sure if he's heard him right. He shakes his head, clearing his mind to focus on the reason he came in here.
"Why the fuck did you tell him?"
"Tell who what?" Iker is nearly smug, nearly maniacal but Fernando knows better. He can see his blood racing, his heart slamming in his chest. He can almost smell his tears over the scent of his own.
"Why did you tell Davey about you and me?"
Iker raises his eyebrows, faking surprise all over his features. "Oh, he told you, huh? I'm amazed he brought it up. I thought it was something that just wasn't talked about."
"What isn't talked about?"
Iker snorts and he looks around the empty room for help, his gaze returning to Fernando when he doesn't get it.
"That he's fucking in love with you."
Fernando blushes hard and irreversibly and his face is a mask of guilt. He clenches his jaw and his fists and pushes forward.
"You just don't get it, do you, asshole? You just don' fuckin' get it."
"Get what, chickpea? Why don't you enlighten me?" Iker makes a show of sitting down, his eyes rimmed in red and he's still managing a smirk though neither of them know how at this point.
"I don't have to explain shit to you, you prick. Anything that happens between me and my brother is our business, whether it pisses you off or not. I was here long before you was and I'll be here way longer than you will anyway."
"Did he fuck you in there?"
Fernando's pulse quickens.
"What?"
"Did he fuck you?" Iker looks him over, his bottom lip catching between his teeth. "Hm. Guess he didn't. You're hard as a fucking rock." They both look down at the front of Fernando's thin pants and Fernando flushes again. His shoulders droop and his words have gone, abandoned him.
"I need him, Iker." His voice is so small, so tired. He isn't looking at him anymore, can't look anywhere near him. They hear David calling the horse outside and neither know the way the other's heart soars at the sound. "Whether you get it or not, he's mine. I can't help it. And I can't feel bad about it. Not anymore."
"What about Sergio?"
Their eyes lock this time and Iker looks ready to fall apart right there in front of him. They know each other's weaknesses. Fernando feels like he's holding a knife to Iker's throat.
"What about him," he says right back, defiant as he knows how to be (which is quite a lot). "I love him. 'N he loves me. He told me he did."
"You can't have them both, Nando. You just fucking can't."
"Why are you always the one that gets to make choices? When is it my turn to make a fucking decision?"
"Alright." Iker folds his arms over his chest, his mouth a thin, angry line. "Choose."
Fernando sighs, dropping his shoulders and turning to leave. "This is fuckin' ridiculous. I ain't playin' this game with you."
Iker is on his feet and his hands are on Fernando's shoulders, tight and bruising before Fernando can focus his eyes on the angry face in front of him. His breath smells sweet with something, with fruit, maybe an apple and sour with beer. Fernando knows the smell of beer on breath very well. He tries to shove away but Iker is stronger and Fernando's eyes involuntarily fill with tears.
"Let me go! Let me the fuck go right now!"
"You can't hurt him. I will not let you hurt him he's mine, goddamnit!" Iker sobs and it's so loud that Fernando startles, his entire body jerking and Iker is crushing Fernando to himself, wrapping solid, strong arms around him and pulling all the breath from him. "I love him. God, I just love him and I need him and you just came and you took him from me. You just took him from me. I don't... I don't know how to deal with it. I just can't. I can't do this anymore."
Fernando pushes weakly at Iker who is falling apart in front of him very literally, who is sinking to his knees with Fernando trapped against him and he's sobbing, loud, heaving sobs into Fernando's torn and cut shirt, pale hands clutching at his hair, at the back of Fernando's neck. Fernando blinks numbly at the wall, tears burning in his own eyes but he refuses. He refuses.
"I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to take him from you."
"I just want to be enough for him. I've always just wanted to be enough and I tried to be enough but I don't know what he wants. It's like with Davey. I always knew I was never enough for him and today I realized that it was because of you, too. Both of them. I'm not you for them. I'm not enough."
"Iker," Fernando whispers tearfully, trying to push away again because the tears are welling in his eyes and he can't handle this, his heart threatening to burst from his small chest. He sniffles, his body softening against Iker for the first time since he stepped into the room and he wraps his arms around Iker's waist, face hiding in his shoulder so it soaked up the first of his tears. "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to."
"I didn't mean... god. Nando. I'm..." he reaches for him, lifting Fernando's face and it hits him in a suffocating wave what he's said to this boy, what he's made him feel. He kisses his forehead, right between his eyebrows, just below his doe brown eyes where the freckles are like stardust and they're ocean salt and Fernando pushes his mouth up to catch Iker's then, their mouths locking like they're a perfect fit, too, somehow, like this is just what he needs. He reaches for one of Iker's hands and pulls it to his pants, both of them working to push them away from his young body enough to fit Iker's hand down inside, down into the heat between his legs and he's not wearing underwear, not wearing anything to block Iker's strong fingers from the want of his pink cock and he gasps into Iker's mouth, gasps through Iker's growl, through the squeeze of his hand, making Fernando plump against his palm. "God, did he do this to you? Did he make you hard?"
"Yes," Fernando gasps and it feels like such a longheld secret, such a confession and that only makes him drip salt across Iker's fingers, makes him push tighter against him, makes him sit more firmly on Iker's hard cock. "Kissed me. God, he kissed me."
"All it took was a kiss?" They're shoving against each other again but this time they're battling their clothes, both knowing they shouldn't be and they shouldn't be and they are, they're kicking off pants and pulling off shirts to feel the heat of each other. Iker's cock is right where it's been before and he kisses Fernando long and hard, feeding from his desperation, feeding from how quickly Fernando is nodding yesyesgodyes. He's stroking Fernando now, rubbing his own cock against his hole and fucking shallowly up against it. "He just had to kiss you to get you like this? God, if he only knew. If he'd only always known how much he has you."
"He knows," Fernando murmurs, his legs spreading across Iker's lap and they both force his cock up into Fernando's body, fighting his young tightness and tears and his overwhelming want. Iker sinks back against the wall as Fernando settles down full on his cock and Fernando wraps his arms around Iker's neck, their mouths meeting almost tenderly. "God I just don't wanna cry no more. I just want it to stop hurting."
Iker thrusts slowly, rocking with Fernando's body and they both move with it and maybe they've done this a couple of times, a few times, fucked like this, moments so quick and hot and dry that they felt like dreams, the ache of Iker's cock in the morning and the slickness running down Fernando's thigh the only evidence. He holds Fernando's face with both hands, his thumbs coaxing his mouth open wide so he can claim it, licking deep inside and Fernando rides him hard, shivering with a hard jolt when one of Iker's hands abandons its worship of his face to wrap around his cock.
"God, I can still taste him. Right there in your mouth. Right here." Iker licks at the corner of Fernando's mouth and he would put his life on it that the taste is Sergio, Sergio's sweet come caught on Fernando's summer dusted skin. Fernando keeps his mouth open and lets Iker feed from him, lets him suck on the seam of his mouth, at his chin. "Anything. I'd do anything for him. God why doesn't he know? Why doesn't he know, Nando?"
"Go find him," Fernando gasps, caught on Iker's cock at just the right angle and Iker is beating up into him, stretching him out in what feels like permanence and god he's gonna come inside of him again, again after Fernando had said never again, never (fourth time). "Bring him home. Bring him back to us. We can all be together, Iker. We can work it out. We can love each other. All of us. Can't we? The four of us?"
"Yes. Yes. Fuck," Iker pulls and pushes Fernando on his cock, about to come so hard that it already hurts just for the mere thought, the thought of bliss, of happiness, of maybe having what he wants. Maybe. "Come with me? Come when I come inside of you."
Fernando pushes up tight against him, licking his lips like he can taste it when he feels Iker unloading in him, that warmth pushing through him and he dribbles out a gasping orgasm across Iker's fingers, coming from deep in his guts and they're clutching at each other, tucking and holding and they're rocking by the time they've both come down, sitting there on the hardwood floor of Iker's childhood room, remnants of his life strewn about them, rocking. Iker rubs Fernando's back until he falls asleep, pretending he doesn't hear David's bedroom door close, pretending he can't feel the ghost of a body standing outside his door, listening, hearing it all.
---
"Ten more hours 'til we get there! Thierry said he's making me a big dinner. God, I love his cooking. So, so good." Cesc sighs happily, munching on a sticky orange Cheeto. Sergio runs his fingers over his fresh words in his journal, unable to do anything but frown. Cesc licks his lips and then his fingers, looking first at his chip bag and then at Sergio who hasn't said a word since they left Georgia. "Want the rest?"
"No. Thank you." Sergio pushes his temple against the cool window, eyes lifted to watch the passing landscape, to catch the moon and hold sight of it for as long as he can. Cesc glances over Sergio's notebook and sees both Iker and Fernando's names. He watches Sergio for a few beats before he braves to speak again.
"Why are you running away?"
Sergio pulls Iker's hoodie around his body, closing his notebook and hiding it in the pocket of the seat in front of his own. He covers his hands with his sleeves and returns his gaze outside, not replying because he doesn't know. He's never really known.
chapter twenty-four.
Characters: Sergio Ramos, Fernando Torres, Iker Casillas, Cesc Fábregas, David Beckham
Rating: NC-17 from here on out just to be safe
Disclaimer: Tragically untrue.
Summary: Tramps like us, baby we were born to run.
Notes: Don't you forget about me.
one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven. twelve. thirteen. fourteen. fifteen. sixteen. seventeen. eighteen. nineteen. twenty. twenty-one. twenty-two.
Fernando waits until he's sure David is gone from the house, that he's across the yard and well to the barn before he gets up. Dusk is settling on the house, leaving it quiet as a whisper and empty. He mentally counts and knows there are only two people in this house, that the rest are on the run or at baseball games or pulling on old leather work gloves in the barn and ignoring the hardness in their jeans to repair, to clean, to forget for awhile. He places the lock of Sergio's hair reverently on the bedside table and realizes for the hundredth time that this isn't his room. (It could be. It very well could be, one day.) He runs his fingers over the little bit of hair before his face hardens, a time-earned frown taking over as he steps from his room and into the hallway, his eyes on one door and one door only.
He doesn't knock but he doesn't need to. Iker has been expecting him. Fernando can tell by the set of his shoulders, the way he doesn't flinch when Fernando pushes the door open without trying to be quiet. He stands in the doorway, staring at Iker's curled, broad back in one of his high school t-shirts, at the way Iker is staring out the window in a profound silence, one befitting of a man and not a boy who still feels as helpless as Iker does. Fernando finally glances around and sees the clothes everywhere, the half-packed duffel bag, the toothbrush laying on top of a small pile of money, a twenty and some ones and a bunch of coins. He steps into the room and closes the door. Iker only reacts when he hears the lock turn.
"I need to talk to you," Fernando says as evenly as he can, his fingers lingering on the doorknob as if he really doesn't want to do this but he does. He has to. All he has to think about is his Davey's busted knuckles and the heartbreaking sounds of his sobs and he's furious all over again. He waits for Iker to say something, anything, and he nearly growls when he doesn't. "I said I need to fucking talk to you. So listen to me." Fernando kicks the duffel bag, sending the clothes flying and then Iker is on his feet, standing a full four inches taller than Fernando but Fernando is furious and blind with it.
"Nothing to talk about. You win, right? You got the note and you got your memento and you fucked up my life. You won."
Fernando just blinks at him, not quite sure if he's heard him right. He shakes his head, clearing his mind to focus on the reason he came in here.
"Why the fuck did you tell him?"
"Tell who what?" Iker is nearly smug, nearly maniacal but Fernando knows better. He can see his blood racing, his heart slamming in his chest. He can almost smell his tears over the scent of his own.
"Why did you tell Davey about you and me?"
Iker raises his eyebrows, faking surprise all over his features. "Oh, he told you, huh? I'm amazed he brought it up. I thought it was something that just wasn't talked about."
"What isn't talked about?"
Iker snorts and he looks around the empty room for help, his gaze returning to Fernando when he doesn't get it.
"That he's fucking in love with you."
Fernando blushes hard and irreversibly and his face is a mask of guilt. He clenches his jaw and his fists and pushes forward.
"You just don't get it, do you, asshole? You just don' fuckin' get it."
"Get what, chickpea? Why don't you enlighten me?" Iker makes a show of sitting down, his eyes rimmed in red and he's still managing a smirk though neither of them know how at this point.
"I don't have to explain shit to you, you prick. Anything that happens between me and my brother is our business, whether it pisses you off or not. I was here long before you was and I'll be here way longer than you will anyway."
"Did he fuck you in there?"
Fernando's pulse quickens.
"What?"
"Did he fuck you?" Iker looks him over, his bottom lip catching between his teeth. "Hm. Guess he didn't. You're hard as a fucking rock." They both look down at the front of Fernando's thin pants and Fernando flushes again. His shoulders droop and his words have gone, abandoned him.
"I need him, Iker." His voice is so small, so tired. He isn't looking at him anymore, can't look anywhere near him. They hear David calling the horse outside and neither know the way the other's heart soars at the sound. "Whether you get it or not, he's mine. I can't help it. And I can't feel bad about it. Not anymore."
"What about Sergio?"
Their eyes lock this time and Iker looks ready to fall apart right there in front of him. They know each other's weaknesses. Fernando feels like he's holding a knife to Iker's throat.
"What about him," he says right back, defiant as he knows how to be (which is quite a lot). "I love him. 'N he loves me. He told me he did."
"You can't have them both, Nando. You just fucking can't."
"Why are you always the one that gets to make choices? When is it my turn to make a fucking decision?"
"Alright." Iker folds his arms over his chest, his mouth a thin, angry line. "Choose."
Fernando sighs, dropping his shoulders and turning to leave. "This is fuckin' ridiculous. I ain't playin' this game with you."
Iker is on his feet and his hands are on Fernando's shoulders, tight and bruising before Fernando can focus his eyes on the angry face in front of him. His breath smells sweet with something, with fruit, maybe an apple and sour with beer. Fernando knows the smell of beer on breath very well. He tries to shove away but Iker is stronger and Fernando's eyes involuntarily fill with tears.
"Let me go! Let me the fuck go right now!"
"You can't hurt him. I will not let you hurt him he's mine, goddamnit!" Iker sobs and it's so loud that Fernando startles, his entire body jerking and Iker is crushing Fernando to himself, wrapping solid, strong arms around him and pulling all the breath from him. "I love him. God, I just love him and I need him and you just came and you took him from me. You just took him from me. I don't... I don't know how to deal with it. I just can't. I can't do this anymore."
Fernando pushes weakly at Iker who is falling apart in front of him very literally, who is sinking to his knees with Fernando trapped against him and he's sobbing, loud, heaving sobs into Fernando's torn and cut shirt, pale hands clutching at his hair, at the back of Fernando's neck. Fernando blinks numbly at the wall, tears burning in his own eyes but he refuses. He refuses.
"I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to take him from you."
"I just want to be enough for him. I've always just wanted to be enough and I tried to be enough but I don't know what he wants. It's like with Davey. I always knew I was never enough for him and today I realized that it was because of you, too. Both of them. I'm not you for them. I'm not enough."
"Iker," Fernando whispers tearfully, trying to push away again because the tears are welling in his eyes and he can't handle this, his heart threatening to burst from his small chest. He sniffles, his body softening against Iker for the first time since he stepped into the room and he wraps his arms around Iker's waist, face hiding in his shoulder so it soaked up the first of his tears. "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to."
"I didn't mean... god. Nando. I'm..." he reaches for him, lifting Fernando's face and it hits him in a suffocating wave what he's said to this boy, what he's made him feel. He kisses his forehead, right between his eyebrows, just below his doe brown eyes where the freckles are like stardust and they're ocean salt and Fernando pushes his mouth up to catch Iker's then, their mouths locking like they're a perfect fit, too, somehow, like this is just what he needs. He reaches for one of Iker's hands and pulls it to his pants, both of them working to push them away from his young body enough to fit Iker's hand down inside, down into the heat between his legs and he's not wearing underwear, not wearing anything to block Iker's strong fingers from the want of his pink cock and he gasps into Iker's mouth, gasps through Iker's growl, through the squeeze of his hand, making Fernando plump against his palm. "God, did he do this to you? Did he make you hard?"
"Yes," Fernando gasps and it feels like such a longheld secret, such a confession and that only makes him drip salt across Iker's fingers, makes him push tighter against him, makes him sit more firmly on Iker's hard cock. "Kissed me. God, he kissed me."
"All it took was a kiss?" They're shoving against each other again but this time they're battling their clothes, both knowing they shouldn't be and they shouldn't be and they are, they're kicking off pants and pulling off shirts to feel the heat of each other. Iker's cock is right where it's been before and he kisses Fernando long and hard, feeding from his desperation, feeding from how quickly Fernando is nodding yesyesgodyes. He's stroking Fernando now, rubbing his own cock against his hole and fucking shallowly up against it. "He just had to kiss you to get you like this? God, if he only knew. If he'd only always known how much he has you."
"He knows," Fernando murmurs, his legs spreading across Iker's lap and they both force his cock up into Fernando's body, fighting his young tightness and tears and his overwhelming want. Iker sinks back against the wall as Fernando settles down full on his cock and Fernando wraps his arms around Iker's neck, their mouths meeting almost tenderly. "God I just don't wanna cry no more. I just want it to stop hurting."
Iker thrusts slowly, rocking with Fernando's body and they both move with it and maybe they've done this a couple of times, a few times, fucked like this, moments so quick and hot and dry that they felt like dreams, the ache of Iker's cock in the morning and the slickness running down Fernando's thigh the only evidence. He holds Fernando's face with both hands, his thumbs coaxing his mouth open wide so he can claim it, licking deep inside and Fernando rides him hard, shivering with a hard jolt when one of Iker's hands abandons its worship of his face to wrap around his cock.
"God, I can still taste him. Right there in your mouth. Right here." Iker licks at the corner of Fernando's mouth and he would put his life on it that the taste is Sergio, Sergio's sweet come caught on Fernando's summer dusted skin. Fernando keeps his mouth open and lets Iker feed from him, lets him suck on the seam of his mouth, at his chin. "Anything. I'd do anything for him. God why doesn't he know? Why doesn't he know, Nando?"
"Go find him," Fernando gasps, caught on Iker's cock at just the right angle and Iker is beating up into him, stretching him out in what feels like permanence and god he's gonna come inside of him again, again after Fernando had said never again, never (fourth time). "Bring him home. Bring him back to us. We can all be together, Iker. We can work it out. We can love each other. All of us. Can't we? The four of us?"
"Yes. Yes. Fuck," Iker pulls and pushes Fernando on his cock, about to come so hard that it already hurts just for the mere thought, the thought of bliss, of happiness, of maybe having what he wants. Maybe. "Come with me? Come when I come inside of you."
Fernando pushes up tight against him, licking his lips like he can taste it when he feels Iker unloading in him, that warmth pushing through him and he dribbles out a gasping orgasm across Iker's fingers, coming from deep in his guts and they're clutching at each other, tucking and holding and they're rocking by the time they've both come down, sitting there on the hardwood floor of Iker's childhood room, remnants of his life strewn about them, rocking. Iker rubs Fernando's back until he falls asleep, pretending he doesn't hear David's bedroom door close, pretending he can't feel the ghost of a body standing outside his door, listening, hearing it all.
---
"Ten more hours 'til we get there! Thierry said he's making me a big dinner. God, I love his cooking. So, so good." Cesc sighs happily, munching on a sticky orange Cheeto. Sergio runs his fingers over his fresh words in his journal, unable to do anything but frown. Cesc licks his lips and then his fingers, looking first at his chip bag and then at Sergio who hasn't said a word since they left Georgia. "Want the rest?"
"No. Thank you." Sergio pushes his temple against the cool window, eyes lifted to watch the passing landscape, to catch the moon and hold sight of it for as long as he can. Cesc glances over Sergio's notebook and sees both Iker and Fernando's names. He watches Sergio for a few beats before he braves to speak again.
"Why are you running away?"
Sergio pulls Iker's hoodie around his body, closing his notebook and hiding it in the pocket of the seat in front of his own. He covers his hands with his sleeves and returns his gaze outside, not replying because he doesn't know. He's never really known.
chapter twenty-four.