fic: on a feeling that i never had part 2
The wind blows ever so softly as the footballers of Real Madrid train ever so diligently. There’s sound of casual chatter while the players warm up, the training staff on the edges of the pitch discussing strategy and tactics among themselves. Only Rui stands away from the others, watching from a distance with a smile on his lips.
From across the way he sees Aitor lean over José’s should to look at his notebook, listening to whatever el mister has to say. To most others, it’s just the typical interaction between a manager and his assistant.
To Rui however, he sees their shoulders brush, the way Aitor’s lips are only centimeters away from José’s ear, the way José’s eyes linger on Aitor when he looks up to speak to him.
Rui smiles, mentally patting himself on the back.
*
“Talk later?”
José asked as their lips part for air. Their faces were so close that it felt like they were sharing the same breath. He brought up a hand and ran a finger down Aitor’s cheek, trailing it across his lips.
Aitor nipped at Jose’s finger lightly, a shy smile playing of his lips.
“You want to talk now?”
José laughed, the sound ringing around the silent room. “As long as we’re on the same page I am okay right where I am.” He pulled at Aitor’s lip before bending down and kissing him. When he pulled away, Aitor’s eyes were closed, his dark lashes fanned against his skin. Something rippled inside José, a feeling he hadn’t had in a very long time.
“Fine by me.”
Aitor tugged him in again and this time when they kiss, it was with purpose and no intent on letting go. Aitor shifted his body so he was resting against the couch comfortably and José followed, lifting up his body and settled in against the Basque. José crept a hand onto Aitor’s flank through his shirt though he wanted nothing more than skin on skin. He snuck his tongue into Aitor’s mouth and they were so close they could feel each other’s heart beat.
Aitor couldn’t make sense it of it. Just days ago he was all but pining after José with the knowledge firmly pushed to the back of his mind that nothing will ever come of it. Sometimes things didn’t work out the way you wanted it... yet here he was - here there were kissing like they were pubescent teenagers. And J José wanted him. Him.
*
“Good day, Gentlemen,” Rui says evenly as he strolls in behind them. Aitor pulls back a little, straightening his body.
“That it is, Rui, that it is.” José reaches out and pats him on the back.
“How was your night... Gentlemen?”
And there it is - left unsaid but in the open and ever evident with Rui’s bold smirk. He looks from Aitor to José and back again, his eyes lingering on the Basque.
“I hope it went... well.”
To Rui, it’s worth it - the fire in José’s eyes, the shit he will get later - to see Aitor’s cheeks bloom to a nice rosy red and splutter like a blithering fool.
“Rui...” José warns, his voice dangerous. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing of.”
Aitor’s eyes dart over to José and he’s no longer embarrassed... but shocked.
*
Aitor liked the heat of having someone - José - against his body. He wrapped his hands around José’s back and pulled him even closer.
Teeth grazed his lips carefully but it was gone too quickly as José lifted his head.
“Don’t get me wrong, Aitor...” He leaned in close by the Basques’s ear, letting his lips graze his ear lightly. “I want nothing more than to fuck you right now,” he bit the top of his ear gently. “And trust me, I really do. But we have training tomorrow.”
Aitor’s body shivered before he lets out a laugh. He leaned forward and rested his head in the crook of J José’s neck. Fingers slid into his hair immediately and caressed his scalp softly.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Aitor laughed again. “No, you’re right. It’s late already and I should have left a while ago.” He however didn’t make a move to leave. Instead he pressed his lips against José’s collarbone and kissed it ever so lightly.
“Aitor...”
*
“Aitor?”
But he doesn’t respond. He just stares at José like he’s grown a third arm. He sees Rui shake his head before muttering to himself with that smirk still on his lips as he walks over to the players.
“Why... did you do that?”
José looks up at him puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
Aitor gestures his hands wildly in the air. “That! With Rui. What was-”
José laughs. “I threaten him every training and you worry that I did it now? It just shuts him up for a few hours before he comes back with another joke no one but he finds funny.”
He’s trying to be reassuring but he can still see some uneasiness within Aitor’s demeanour.
“Look,” José reaches out and pulls Aitor in by the neck, holding him close to his body for a moment. “He’s just trying to get a reaction out of you, okay?”
Aitor’s not sure but he could swear he feels lips pressed to his hair.
*
“What, José?”
“We really shouldn’t.” Yet he doesn’t sound the most convincing and Aitor picked up on immediately.
“Okay, okay, looks like I have to be the adult.” He pulled José away from his body and regretted it immediately but knew it was the best thing to do. Together they get up from the couch and made their way to the door.
José pulled Aitor in for a hug, their bodies fully wrapped around each other. They kiss each other’s cheeks before Aitor let go to leave but José had one more thing on his mind.
“Don’t forget about our talk, Aitor. It still needs to happen.”
*
Aitor is one of those people who whenever they have a deadline or something important coming up, it’s all they can think about. He tries not to of course but it becomes difficult when José is constantly reminding him - with a friendly smile, with a curse to his defensive line, with a lick of his lips when he thinks no one is looking, with a... breath.
Aitor has it bad.
He tries to focus on other things but the other night replays in his mind without his permission. He finds himself dosing off even in training, thinking about José’s lips, smile and kiss, the way he said they have to talk before anything happens.
It’s safe to say Aitor wants the talk to happen as soon as possible. Now even.
On the flip side however, he’s scared, terrified of the possibility of having something with Jose - the ever adored José. He never thought his admiration (oh hell, affection and longing, who is he trying to kid?) would ever reach to this height and now he’s all but able to grasp what he wants the most.
It’s a horrible yet lovely realization.
*
“Why did you take off after training so quickly?”
Aitor presses his phone a little closer to his ear as he tries to fish his car keys from his pockets.
“What do you want, Rui? I don’t have time right now.”
Rui laughs. “I’m just asking because Esteban wanted to you to have dinner with us tonight and said he went looking for you but you weren’t there.”
“Oh,” Aitor says slowly, stretching out the short word. He needs to approach this cautiously. “I... can’t tonight, have plans. Maybe tomorrow?”
When Rui proceeds to ask him what is so important tonight, Aitor quickly spits out that he has to go and he’ll call him tomorrow morning before turning off his phone and sliding it into his pocket.
He has to go meet José anyway.
*
They decide to meet on neutral ground and there is no better place than the little spot by the stadium they both love. They get seated at José’s usual table, as far in the back as possible but people still turn and stare, some even greet them and stretch out their hands.
They take a seat and put in their usual orders before the conversation steers to the direction they are both here for.
“What do-”
“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
Every single drop of blood in Aitor’s body must rush to his face because he looks like he is hosting a bunch of tomatoes in his cheeks.
“You must not get that a lot” José is amused (but also touched that someone could be moved by such common compliments).
“Shut up, José,” Aitor mutters under his breath as he reaches for his napkin and places it on his lap. He really should be use to José’s antics by now.
José laughs as he reaches across the table and claps him on shoulder, his fingers lingers a touch too long. He squeezes lightly before letting go.
They enjoy their food in relative silence with a word here and there (mainly about mundane things like football boots and pitch quality). It is Aitor once again who tries to get the conversation to turn into the proper direction.
“I’m too old for games, José.” His voice is barely a whisper, low and gravely. The tone changes the air between them immediately.
“As am I,” José responds as he leans forward. His fingers slide until they bump against Aitor’s. He doesn’t wrap them around his, no. Instead José lets them touch casually, like he doesn’t feel the obvious spark between their flesh. “Actually, I am older.”
Aitor looks up and sees the smirk on the Portuguese’s face, a look that he has come to admire as much as the man.
“You know what I mean.”
“Of course I do but things are so much better when you say it in full, Aitor,” He taps his fingers carefully against warm skin. Just twice. “Say it so we don’t run into any more problems.”
It’s carefully twisted, his words, yet Aitor understands them perfectly. It’s all up to him now. He’s got the football at his toes, drawn at nil-nil with thirty seconds left. All that stands in his way is his own self confidence.
He dribbles, fast and swiftly.
“I want you, José,” Aitor’s breathes out, his eyes narrowing to see only the man before him but voice still low as he is mindful of their surroundings. The sound of blood rushing fills his ears, his heartbeat too quick in his veins. But he shakes it. “No games, no chase. I want to see where this can go... but not without purpose.”
He releases the shot, curled off the side of his foot, powerful as it sails through the air.
José’s fingers finally clench his, his grip tight while his other hand whips up. “La cuenta, por favor.”
The crowd goes wild as the ball hits the back of the netting. The crowd goes wild.
When they get into José’s car his hand doesn’t leave Aitor’s thigh, comfortable under Aitor’s own, silence tinged with anticipation all around them.
*
Everything is silent. Not a creak of a loose board or a tick of a clock. Absolute silence.
But Aitor’s heart beats so loud in his chest he feels it throughout his entire body.
Pressed against his body and the wall, Aitor leans over José and kisses the edge of his cheek, his lips lingering on warm skin. José tilts his head up, seeking more from Aitor.
(It’s funny how they just ‘assume’ their roles, with Aitor taking charge and José letting him take the reins. No discussion, no arguments. And it surprises Aitor though he doesn’t say anything. He never thought José would let him take control - and definitely not so quickly - but he’s not complaining. Not at all.)
Fingers creep under José’s shirt, trailing along soft skin and hard ribs. He pushes his body closer but nothing else. He’s in Aitor’s hands and he wants him to know it.
It doesn’t take much time for Aitor to do so. He slides a leg between José’s thighs and the shudder he feels running through the Portuguese’s creates a hunger in Aitor he’s never felt before. It makes him want to see what else he can evoke from José. He wants it all.
So he kisses him hard and the sound of teeth clicking rings in the air. José can’t take sitting back much longer and he has to wrap his arms around Aitor’s middle, pressing them as close as possible with clothes still separating them, fingers clenching tight.
“José...”
“Yeah?” He responds breathily. A fleeting thought wanders through his mind as if Aitor can feel how much he wants this.
“You...” Aitor presses a confident hand against his crotch, feeling his length growing steadily. “Are fucking hard.”
José laughs against his lips, albeit shakily. “You sound surprised.”
“What do you want?”
“Bed.”
So he leads the way, much to Aitor’s distaste because they are no longer body to body but the promise of better and bigger things is enough for him to follow without too much protest.
When they stand at the foot of the bed, José lets go of the hand he’s holding of Aitor’s before he turns his back to him and slowly begins to dress. Not seductively or anything like that. Just methodically but quickly because the sooner he gets undressed the sooner he can get Aitor out of his clothes too.
Aitor would be joining him in shedding his clothes if he wasn’t so mesmerised by the sight of José’s bare skin. He’s lighter than he imagined, sun kissed but not dark like Aitor had thought. Without thinking, Aitor reaches out and touches José’s back with the tips of his fingers.
“Aitor...” A protest. A purr. Aitor doesn’t know, neither does he care. Instead he flattens his palms against José’s back and smoothes out his hands, feeling strong muscle and soft skin under his touch.
José straightens his body and turns around, not hesitating to crush their lips together in a kiss. His own hands fly to Aitor’s clothes and he’s doing his best to not tear them off but at this point he doesn’t think the Basque would mind too much.
They both struggle with Aitor’s clothing but once it’s off, their bodies mould to each other’s immediately. Using his body, Aitor half walks half pushes José towards the bed and grins when the older man falls unceremoniously onto it, only to stalk after him like a wild cat. So José shimmies back up the mattress accordingly, allowing Aitor to join him. When he has José underneath him, looking up with wide but smirking eyes (and Aitor’s not surprised), he leans down and kisses him hard, his hands trailing every inch of José’s body.
Aitor presses his lower body against José’s and the moan he is rewarded with drives him to do it again and again. The friction isn’t anywhere near enough but it’s sweet and thrilling and they both feel eighteen again. Aitor wraps a hand around José’s cock but only to stroke it slowly, teasingly. He’s well aware they are not in their youth, no matter how they may feel at the moment. He knows José would only berate him if things end too soon.
But that doesn’t mean Aitor lets up at all.
He slides his tongue against the bottom of José’s lips, tracing the edges before he pushes past into his mouth and kisses him fiercely. There’s a tug to his hair which makes him smile. He can feel José’s resolve slips away oh so quickly.
It doesn’t occur to either one of them to slow or nor stop. This has been long overdue though they may not realize. It’s too wanted by both men.
So when Aitor curls his hand around José’s balls and José arches his body, they don’t question whether they are ready or not, if they should drag out foreplay just a little longer because really, they have a feeling neither man would be able to last longer than a few minutes.
In a low voice Aitor asks him if he has supplies. A quick thought flashed into his mind that José probably didn’t which meant they’d have to stop before this could really get going - before José cuts him off.
“Yes.”
He moves swiftly under Aitor, quick to get off the bed and around the room to find the appropriate necessities. Aitor flops onto his back and with one hand on his cock he watches José frenziedly move about the room. The fact that José wants this as much turns him on like no other.
When José locates what they need and returns to bed, he drops the condoms and lubricant at the edge of the mattress and smirks down at Aitor.
“Did I bore you?”
Aitor’s eyes flicker down to the hand on his cock and back up to José’s face, a grin of his own appearing on his lips.
“A little.”
“Well I need to change that then, don’t I?”
Before Aitor can respond, José climbs onto the bed and slides his hand over Aitor’s, both stroking his cock languidly. Aitor’s hips rock up on their own and José laughs.
“Better do this now before you go and ruin it all.”
“Fuck you.”
José just makes a non-committed mmmhmm sound.
He sits on Aitor’s thighs as he reaches for the lubricant and pours himself a good amount in his hands. Aitor’s eyes narrow as one hand closes around him, the other sliding behind José’s body. Aitor’s about to say something when José cuts him off by shake of his head. And Aitor obeys.
It becomes hard to focus after that. Aitor wishes he had three sets of eyes and as many hands right now. He wants everything. José’s fingers on him. José’s smile. José’s moans. José’s heat around him.
“R-ready?” Aitor barely gets out, his resolve slowly diminishing.
José nods in answer before he slides his hips upward. Reaching forward, he grabs a condom and rips it open, chucking the wrapper on the floor as he hastily rolls it onto Aitor’s cock.
When he positions himself over Aitor, holding Aitor just at his entrance, José lets out a shudder before sinking down on his cock, his eyes fluttering shut on their own accord. Naturally, Aitor thrusts upward, only stopping when José places the flat of his palms against his chest, his eyes whipping open.
“Slow.”
His eyes are serious but trusting and it’s too much for Aitor. He grabs a hold of José’s sides and tightens his grip. As if to say I wouldn’t hurt you. Or I want this - you - too much. He waits until José slides a little further on to his cock and Aitor loosens his fingers just a little. When he hits the hilt, José pauses for a second.
Only a second however.
“Move.”
The conviction behind his tone - his voice - has Aitor gladly moving his hips. José spreads his fingers against Aitor’s chest, liking the gentle tickles of the hair there against his skin. He moves his hips in tune with Aitor’s, not fast but not too slow that it makes either man impatient. It’s a good pace, one that has them satisfied with enough of the push and the pull.
And then suddenly Aitor thrusts in hard and José arches his back moaning as pleasure floods his body.
“More.”
Aitor obliges. How can he not? Fingers gripping hips (maybe even hard enough to leave bruises in the morning... only time will tell), Aitor fucks him with a little more purpose, not caring when little cricks begin in his neck and arms. It doesn’t matter, not when José leans down close to his ear and tells him how much he loves getting fucked by him.
“Aitor...”
The purr of his name plays as a warning sign and he shifts to grasp José’s cock between his fingers. He matches the pace of his hips with his hands and hopes that José is close because he is. Too close.
His hips stutter as he comes, hard and fast, his hips still fucking through his orgasm. José calls out, Aitor’s name steadily at his lips. And he too comes, into Aitor’s hot hand.
“Ah well-”
Aitor cuts him off as he leans up and kisses him hard, griping his body to hold him close. José bites his bottom lip before he pulls away, sliding off to lie next to him.
“Bathroom’s just around the corner. Grab a towel.”
“Towel?”
“Unless you want to carry me to the shower and wash me?” José asks with squinting laughing eyes.
“Good point.”
“Plus, towels are convenient for the next round.”
Aitor rolls his head to the side to stare at him.
“Next round?
José grins. “You have no idea, my dear Aitor.”
*
Even when he was younger he had never been the one to fuck and leave the next morning, no matter what the circumstances might have been. However, he was also one to never have too many one night stands. But even when he did, he always preferred to wake up next to warm skin, to see the eyes of his partner from the night before, to perhaps even share a smile.
When Aitor wakes up that morning, he feels before he sees, before he tastes. Fingers caress the skin of his forearm, trace slow circle patterns lazily. It’s a nice feeling that brings a smile to his lips. Slowly, Aitor lets his eyes slide open and he’s greeted by José’s thoughtful gaze. The corners of the older man’s lips curl up just slightly, a smile that’s barely there.
He takes the leap.
“Good morning.”
José now smiles openly as he strokes Aitor’s arm with a little more pressure. “Mmm, yes it is.”
Aitor laughs as he scoots his body a little closer, not thinking twice about the other man being comfortable with it or not. His face hovers over José, their lips only a breath apart.
“I thought you said ‘next round’?”
José looks at him sheepishly before he cranes his neck forward and closes the distance between their lips and kisses him softly.
“You wore me out, unfortunately.”
Aitor’s eyes flicker down to his lips then back to his eyes. He knows what José is doing - giving him the control like he did the night before. It’s odd to see but Aitor knows José will tell him only why when he wants.
“That really is,” Aitor pauses to kiss José again. “Unfortunate because I had so much I wanted to do.”
When José’s body reacts, arching just ever so slightly, Aitor smiles against his lips.
“Still tired now?”
Instead of answering, José slides his leg between Aitor’s and pushes up, rubbing against where Aitor wants him the most.
The only sounds that occur for the next little while are breathy and tinged with moans and curses.
*
“Why didn’t you pick up my call last night?”
Aitor looks up from the tactical board he’s holding to see Rui frowning at him.
“Because I was busy?”
“So you couldn’t call me back? Or leave me a message?”
Aitor laughs. There’s only one reason why Rui is acting worse than his mother. “Why? Is Granero mad at you? What did you do now?”
“Nothing!” Rui says with his hands in the air. Then suddenly his defensive demeanour drops and he sighs. “Sometimes I feel like we’re all wrong for each other.”
Not expecting Rui to actually talk about his relationship with him, it catches Aitor off guard.
“What? I thought everything is going well between the two of you?”
“It was until he started making perfect sense.”
“And you aren’t anymore. What’s going on?”
Rui sighs again before taking a seat on the grass, squinting up at Aitor.
“He’s... He’s so young yet I feel like he knows so much more than I do... Sometimes I feel like I’m trivializing his life.”
It is was anyone else - anyone - Aitor would have laughed at the silliness of the situation but Rui was looking up at him with sad eyes, like he was truly lost and unsure about something he has so tightly in his grasp.
Aitor - being the type of man he is - plunks down next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I think you’re reading too much into this. Have you talked to him about it?”
“No.”
“Then?” Aitor slides his hand up to his neck and gives a comforting squeeze. “Esteban is more serious than most people his age but that doesn’t mean that’s all he’s like and I am sure you know that already.”
“What if... What if I am holding him back?”
“What?”
Rui looks down, avoiding any kind of eye contact, his fingers gently pulling at the blades of grass, emulating any five year old at a park.
“I feel like he could be so great, both on and off the pitch, yet here I am, always wanting to joke and do stupid stuff...”
“I think you’re overreacting, Rui. Do you think he would want you to be reading a book with him?”
“Actually yes.”
Aitor cracks up laughing, squeezing his neck again. “Look, talk to him okay?”
Rui sighs dramatically though he’s smiling a little now. “I just... you know?”
And when Aitor looks at him - in his eyes - he does know; the emotions behind the worrying, the feelings he can’t yet speak yet deeply feels. It’s all so clear in Rui’s eyes.
Aitor nods, clapping his shoulder gently, choosing to remain silent and let the sound of the players’ training and hollering filter in.
After a moment when they go to get up, Aitor turns his head and sees José staring at him from across the pitch. He smiles... only to realize that José isn’t returning it. His own expression falls and he begins to mouth the word ¿que? but doesn’t get the chance when José just shakes his head and turns to a group of Spanish and Portuguese players.
Aitor has a sinking feeling he has done something incredibly wrong.
It’s quiet but not out of the ordinary as Aitor slowly makes his way off the training grounds (he made sure everyone had left before him as the other members of the coaching staff had walked ahead of him).
His thoughts over take him. Something was off in training today but he could not figure out what. Karim and Cristiano, along with Mesut, worked perfectly together, reading each other beautifully. Xabi had led the midfield with Esteban and Sami, sharing his thoughts with the other two as to what he believed needed to be fixed. Everything is as it always is yet...
Aitor shakes his head to himself as he curls his fingers around the doorknob. He’s tired and going home to take a hot shower sounds about perfect right now.
But then he’s being spun around and pinned to wall, his hands collapsed against someone else’s. It takes him a moment to realize who the familiar touch belongs to.
“José...?”
“I don’t care how close you and Rui have become now, just don’t... Don’t.”
Aitor doesn’t even know what he’s talking about, can’t comprehend anything but the fact that José has him pressed against a wall on the training grounds where anyone can see them; that José has the control now; that he wants this so fucking bad.
It’s rushed and brutal but José kisses him, harsh and with intent. Aitor goes to move his fingers, desperately needing more contact; however, José does not let go. Instead, he keeps him trapped beneath him, against the door and it spurs on Aitor.
José, however, has different plans.
The Portuguese pulls away, his eyes fiery, his lips shiny and bruised. He taps Aitor’s left cheek twice with his index finger before trailing down to his lip, where he runs the pad of his finger over angry skin.
“I don’t ask for much, Aitor,” His voice is low, raspy and Aitor finds it hard to concentrate. “Just...”
“Don’t,” Aitor finishes. He looks into José’s eyes, their faces so close he can hear the other man’s low breathing loud in his ear. “I know.”
He actually doesn’t but Aitor is willing to find out.
*
When something is amiss yet you don’t know what it is exactly, nothing makes sense. Aitor watches. He’s good at it. He is quiet than most of the others on the team so no one suspects him of observing the scene, of taking in everything that may not available to the naked eye. He notices the way the players would hover around Iker, eager to catch every word he says even if it may not be about football whatsoever. Aitor notices the slight exchanges between Karim and Gonzalo, the way the Frenchman would let the other man brush his arm or rub his head while he animatedly tells a story.
And he notices the way José’s eyes would wander over Rui, his eyes narrowed, nose pinched like he’s smelling something fowl. It’s a sunny day and José’s walking alongside Zidane, clearly not listening to his assessment because he has his attention on his fellow Portuguese, on a man he’s considered his friend, family even.
It doesn’t make any sense at all to Aitor. Since he’s joined José’s coaching staff he hasn’t always been informed (there have been times where the Portuguese would walk into the locker room and instruct the players with a game plan he nor the other staff had heard of before) and Aitor knows he has a time and place for everything. But Aitor just can’t wrap his head around this.
Because he remembers the fire behind usual ice like eyes, the conviction in his voice, the grip on his body... The utter claim José had lain on his lips with the brutal kiss.
It sets a spark within Aitor when he remembers the actions from the previous day. It starts in the pit of his stomach and spreads throughout his limbs and down to his toes.
He may not know what had caused the reaction but Aitor can`t say he doesn’t... like it.
But it was so sudden, leaving him unaware because José wouldn’t choose him over a long time friend... would he?
He decides the best way around this is to approach it head on, no matter how uncomfortable it may be.
So Aitor finds himself hovering in the door way of José’s office, only calming his nerves when he sees the older man reading what he figures are his notes from the day’s training session.
If José isn’t anything but a picture of cool and calm then why can’t he be? After all, Aitor is the one going to be asking the questions, not answering them.
“Hey, José?”
He looks up from his note book and Aitor swears there’s a shadow of a smile on his lips before it’s gone and he’s waved in. Aitor steps into his office and closes the door behind him, seeking all the privacy they can get despite still being in the stadium. He takes a seat in front of José and settles against the back of the chair, emitting the best picture of cool and collected he can come up with.
José closes his notebook but doesn’t remove it from the top of the desk. He leans forward onto his elbows, giving Aitor a real smile this time, though it isn’t as bright and easy going as he’s used to.
“What can I do for you, Aitor?”
It’s then Aitor realizes how much of this ‘playing-a-game’ bullshit he’s sick of, especially when they both agreed it’s not something they want to do.
“What was yesterday about?”
“Yesterday?” Not a flicker in his tone or shift in his gaze. José isn’t willing to let go of the facade just yet.
Aitor however cuts it off swiftly.
“You know what I’m talking about, José,” Aitor remains calm as he speaks but he can feel his guard rising ever so slightly. He picks at a piece of invisible lint off his track pants before continuing. “When you freaked out over something I don’t understand?”
He has crossed that line, that parallel he didn’t want to but it’s too late and Aitor finds himself determined to get to the bottom of it. He isn’t going to let the scowl on José’s face faze him.
“It was nothing,” José dismisses with a wave of his hand. “Now if you are done-”
“No, I am not,” Aitor interrupts, his body lurching forward and he feels the muscles in his neck tightening. Taking in a slow deep breath helps him settle back down... for now. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be look at Rui like you are going to murder him and you wouldn’t have rambled out that shit to me before kissing me - well biting me.” Throwing caution to the wind, Aitor reaches forward and wraps his hand around José’s, pulling it down to his. He doesn’t say anything else but look into his eyes, hoping José will see the conviction behind them.
There’s a slight twitch of fingers beneath his and when José doesn’t pull away but squeeze his grip tighter instead Aitor lets out a breath he doesn’t know he is holding.
“I’m a jealous person,” José says it so bluntly that Aitor starts to laugh only to quiet quickly when he sees the Portuguese glare at him. Aitor nods for him to continue, though he’s wearing a slight smile. “You’re important to me, as is Rui... But Rui knows - ah things - and I am sure Granero wouldn’t have liked what I saw.”
Aitor isn’t following exactly. “What you saw? I was trying to help Rui not have a break down because he’s seeing someone 12 years younger than him.” He frowns, his back straightening so he pulls on their adjoined hands slightly. “And what things?”
“Rui is asking you for advice?” His voice doesn’t hide his amusement, neither does his face.
“Of course he was. He considers me a friend and someone he can trust.”
José has the decency to look hurt though he laughs it off. “He’s probably just too scared to hear the truth from me.”
“Stop avoiding the subject, José,” Aitor is feeling very non-bullshit suddenly. “What things?”
José sighs as he pulls away and slides against the back of his comfy chair. “He and I have been friends for a very long time. He has come with me to every club I have asked him to because I know how brilliant he is.” He pauses though he doesn’t break the gaze Aitor has locked on him. “In Milan... He saved my heart.”
Aitor straightens at the words, his stomach tightening and he knows he isn’t going to like where this is leading.
“Saved?”
José nods solemnly. “There was someone... I grew really close to and Rui was the only one who knew about it. I don’t...” He gestures with his hands, “you know, too often but I felt like it was going somewhere and Rui said he could see it too. But it didn’t. It ended horribly and was a part of the reason why I needed to leave and come here.” Suddenly, his voice drops a few octaves. “Rui helped me through it. He was the only one to ever know about it... Until now.”
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t ask the questions that are whizzing through his head. Instead, Aitor stretches out his hand against the desk again but this time he doesn’t seek out José. He waits for him to come to him.
He isn’t disappointed when warm fingers wrap around his.
“Seeing you with him... You mean something to me, Aitor.”
And really nothing else matters.
Aitor finds himself getting out of his seat and going around the desk as quickly as he can and when he reaches José’s chair, he clutches the top of it tightly as he bends down and kisses him hard. Hands wrap around his middle almost immediately and Aitor goes willingly. He slides into José’s lap, not breaking the kiss.
He can feel so much behind José’s kiss, behind his touches. Claim. Passion. Anger. Sadness... And something else he doesn’t want to name just yet.
“When I saw you two together,” José whispers against his lips when they part slightly. “You are both important to me and for some reason I thought... what if you two... It’s crazy I know. I know you would never and Rui... Rui would jump in front a car for me. But in the moment-”
He’s silenced with a kiss. It isn’t of the same pace as moments ago; their lips move slowly against one another now, like they are taking their time, not a care in the world. All that exists are them.
José curls a hand around Aitor’s hips and pulls him in closer.
“Thank you... you know for-”
And this time it’s José who cuts off Aitor as he kisses away the unnecessary gratitude. “You don’t need to thank me as I don’t need to say sorry because it won’t happen again.”
Aitor hopes not.
“Home?”
It’s whispered against José’s lips as he soothes the words with his tongue. He doesn’t ask Aitor who’s home he means because he’s too focused on the word in itself and the prospect of being alone with the Basque in a more private setting.
“Let’s go.”
*
He knows the route by heart now, knows exactly where the street lights will come into view, exactly where José will turn. He knows exactly how long it’ll take to get back to his house.
Yet that doesn’t stop Aitor from glancing at the clock on the dashboard every thirty seconds.
They haven’t exchanged a single word since they left El Santiago Bernabeu but hangs between them is a kind of understanding, a silent agreement. It’s not uncomfortable at all and though anticipation is high (Aitor rationalizes that it’s always high when he is around José now), they aren’t pining at each other or filling the air with unnecessary words. It’s easy and Aitor loves the feel of it - like he could get used to it.
They arrive at José’s modest home shortly. Aitor half expects to be led up to José’s bedroom but instead José moves to the side when they get to the door and waves him to head into the living room. Aitor does so but steals a quick, almost shy kiss as he passes by him. He doesn’t look behind him but he knows José follows by the pitter-patter of his footsteps.
Settling on one end of the couch, Aitor reclines until his back is touching comfy cushions and soon enough he finds himself sighing as he relaxes completely. When a heavy weight settles in next to him, Aitor looks up and smiles at José who returns it.
Something has changed. It did back in José’s office and they both know it yet Aitor wants whatever it is so he presses forward and kisses the corner for José’s mouth lightly, right where his soft lips meet together (just slightly curled up in a surprised smile).
“Aitor...”
Aitor pulls back and shakes his head. “We’ve dealt with it, right? Anything else we say is just going to over complicate an already complicated situation.” He lets out a small chuckle, his eyes cautious but José knows he’s happy, content with this decision.
So it’s in the best interest of both men when José leans forward and kisses Aitor, leaving their words both said and unsaid at the feet as they edge closer to each other.
And really if Aitor has any more qualms about this, about what José has revealed (and essentially proposed) they are quiet for now because he knows nothing good has ever come out of over thinking something, even when it comes to the mastermind of football himself. Aitor has justified it in his head and he knows there’s no going back now, no do-overs because this is José and José never takes back anything he does or says.
Even if it all comes crashing down tomorrow he knows they’re in it together and that alone lets Aitor press himself that much closer to José, slide his fingers in silver hair and kiss him hard, like he’s wanted to since he laid eyes on him two years ago.
It doesn’t take much for José to let himself be settled against the couch and Aitor covers every inch of his body with his own. Lips still joined in desperate yet slow kisses, his hands slide down the front of the older man’s shirt, feeling hard muscles mixed in with patches of softness. Unintentionally, Aitor smiles against his lips and José laughs.
“Are you trying to let me know that I have let myself go?”
Aitor joins in on the laughter, licking the bottom of his lip. “Not at all, José. You have a body anyone would be jealous of.”
José raises his eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Now I know you are humouring me, Aitor. You are already on top of me so you can stop with the unnecessary flattery.”
“You are impossible,” Aitor gets in before he kisses him once again, his fingers finding José’s slight love handles. He squeezes lightly, not caring that José is trying to protest. He loves it.
They are nowhere near there yet but Jose whispers ‘upstairs’ and Aitor doesn’t think to argue. He gets off him slowly and offers a hand which the Portuguese takes with the smile that made Aitor fall oh so very hard in the first place.
He moves to the side so José can lead the way but instead he’s nudged forward so Aitor doesn’t think about what that means either. He knows where he’s going and if José is okay with that then so is he.
However once they enter the Portuguese’s room, José stops him in the middle, just feet away from the bed and turns to him.
“Please don’t tell me you want me to strip for you like we are teenagers who have never seen each other naked. Because I am sorry to inform you, José, we aren’t teenagers anymore nor have we not seen each other naked before.”
A look of surprise flickers over José’s face before he starts to laugh again. “You are such a shit, Aitor.”
Aitor shrugs though he’s grinning. “I’m just stating the obvious.”
“And here I was trying to do something romantic.”
Now it’s Aitor’s turn to be surprised. He opens his mouth to say something but José just shakes his head and brings a finger to caress his bottom lip instead.
“Clothes off, Aitor and get onto the bed.”
The demand sends a shiver down the Basque’s spine but he doesn’t dare disobey the order. He does both at once, pulling off his clothes as he quickly makes his way to the bed. He sits on the edge of the bed, almost done when he feels a hand on his bare shoulder.
“Here let me.”
Before Aitor can even ask what he means, José crouches down and lifts his feet to get his socks off, first the right then the left. But he doesn’t let it end there. Lightly, José kisses the inside of Aitor’s ankles; nothing but soft butterfly kisses but Aitor doesn’t dare look away or close his eyes. He can’t.
And it doesn’t stop. José slides his lips up his left leg, letting his tongue flatten against hard muscles occasionally before switching to the other leg and leaves wicked swirls around Aitor’s kneecaps. It’s so hypnotising, to see José like this, caution abandoned and no longer cared for. Aitor has been excited since the car ride over but he’s inching just a little closer to where he wants to be.
His thighs are spread a part and this is where Aitor does let his eyes close. When José’s lips fit over the head of his cock, Aitor is buzzing. He pivots his hips forward slightly before catching himself, not wanting to catch José off guard. He can’t come like this (well he could but he doesn’t want to) but the sensation is too good to pass up at the moment. So he reaches blindly until his fingers caress soft hair and he buries his fingers in it.
A soft hum makes Aitor whip his eyes open. José’s not looking at him and he’s glad because he is not sure if he would be able to handle it. Aitor slides a hand down until he’s cupping José’s jaw and gently pulls out of his mouth. It is then their eyes lock and José’s wearing a smug smile on his slightly reddened lips. But he doesn’t say anything, just gets up and undresses almost methodically and away from Aitor. That doesn’t mean Aitor looks away. No, he watches the way José moves, the way his body moves with the light.
Then finally, José’s on him, skin to skin and everything falls into place. Aitor feels everything: José’s lips on his neck, the scratch of hair as their legs entwine, the heat of bodies too close. And when he slides into José he knows he never wants to feel anything else ever again.
It isn’t as smooth as the first time mostly because even though José loves taking it he still feels the need to instruct Aitor somewhat (the Basque suspects this is because he is José Fucking Mourinho, it doesn’t matter which position he is in, he is always in control) and Aitor just ends up laughing (after being very frustrated of course).
It is slow. But it isn’t. It is sweet. But it isn’t. Whatever it is, it works perfectly, a winning formula.
Just like Aitor by José’s side on the bench.
~el fin~