Alphabet (W, X)
Title: Alphabet (W, X)
Parts: A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | Y | Z
Pairing: Daniel Agger/Fernando Torres
Rating: PG-13, NC-17
Disclaimer: It sucks always having to come up with new ways to say how much they don't belong to me.
Summary: Part of the Alphabet Challenge.
A/N: Right... I know I said I'd maybe not write any Non-AUs ever again, and of course I went back on my own word. I guess the fact that Fernando's transfer actually did turn out as such a desaster might have helped, and all those rumours about depression obviously didn't want to leave me alone. It's already been some time since I wrote Wish, actually half a year already or something, but interestingly not that much has changed since then. Again, no justification here, just a glance at one possible scenario that didn't want to leave me alone.
Wish
Deep in his heart Fernando knew that he shouldn’t have come, that there was a good chance for his heart to be broken even more. But there was also a chance that he would find a bit of comfort, of warmth, and as small as it might be, he had come to the point where he wasn’t strong enough anymore not to take that chance.
The silhouette of the house in the dark was still painfully familiar, just as the door bell under his fingers and to raise his eyes up to the small camera. But his heart was beating fearfully in his chest because he didn’t know if that door would even open for him - ever again.
It was half past two in the middle of the night that Chelsea had gone out to Manchester United in the Champions League, and Fernando hadn’t seen Dan since the defender’s elbow had bruised his nose and crushed his heart.
Fernando shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, burying his fingers in the soft cloth of his old worn sweater, his eyes still fixed on the camera with stubborn hope that was waning with each second that passed. And just when Fernando sighed and lowered his head, his fingers clenching the fabric so hard they started to hurt, he heard the tell-tale sound of the gate unlocking. And he didn’t hesitate for a second to get inside, driven by a mix of hope and desperation.
When the door opened and Fernando saw Daniel’s silhouette in the faint light, clad in sweatpants, hair tousled, face expressionless, for a moment it felt like his heart tumbled out of his chest and right before Dan’s feet, and he wanted to say something, to apologise for doing this, for possibly waking up Sofie and Jamie, but he couldn’t utter even a single word. So they looked at each other until Daniel opened his mouth and said, “Having fun living your dream?”
And the words were like the most perfect vicious punch to the guts, robbing him of the ability to breathe, and he had to lower his head because he didn’t want Dan to see that one simple question had brought his weak self-control down and helpless tears to his eyes.
Maybe he should just turn and walk away and spare himself the humiliation of being dismissed by the only person he had dared to turn to.
Fernando drew in a shaky breath and already took half a step back, but right in that moment Dan did the same and opened the door a little wider. A silent invitation, and Fernando tried not to follow his heart too obviously that leapt at the unexpected chance he had been given.
The house was silent and dark and Dan didn’t bother turning on any lights as he led Fernando into the living room. And the Spaniard wasn’t sure what he had expected or even hoped for, but in any case nothing of it happened. Because Dan simply took two small couch cushions, placed them in one corner, and then reached for the blanket that was lying folded over the backrest.
“You can sleep here,” he said, nothing else, voice even and expressionless, and Fernando thought he had never hurt more than in that moment.
“Okay,” he whispered, choked, buried his nails in the palms of his hand and tried to keep himself from looking after Dan as he wordlessly left the room.
The leather was cold on his skin as he lay down, the blanket smelling of clear, fresh laundry detergent as he wrapped himself into it, his whole body feeling stiff and cold and foreign, as it had for months now. But then he turned his face into the pillows and was assaulted by that scent that triggered so many memories and feelings that it felt like he was hit by a train.
And the tears came again, unstoppable this time, leaking from his closed eyes and being soaked up by the pillow, silently shaking his body as he pressed his lips together and desperately tried to keep quiet and still.
His chest was so tight he could barely breathe with the simple, crushing, all-encompassing longing to go home, and it just made it all worse because he felt so lost, didn’t even know anymore where home was. London, Liverpool, Madrid? With his parents, his friends, his wife, his kids? There was no doubt that he still loved them with every fibre of his heart. And yet it felt as if all those feelings had been numbed, as if some time in that last year he had lost the ability to love - to feel - as he once had. As if nothing could reach that part of him anymore that was happiness, the whole world behind a grey, blurring curtain.
And then there was a hand on his shoulder, a weight dipping the cushions he was lying on, and Fernando didn’t have the energy to be surprised, or even to open his eyes, only to turn and bury himself in the embrace that was offered, and a fresh torrent of tears forced their way out with a quiet, choked sob.
Dan held him while he cried, a wordless presence but comfort beyond measure in the familiarity alone. And because the tears had been confined for ages there were many of them, but not once did Dan make any move away from him, give any indication of waning patience. He simply held him wordlessly until Fernando was too exhausted to cry anymore. Instead he drifted off into a trance-like state somewhere between awake and asleep. Dan’s scent, his body Fernando was nestled against, it still evoked the same feelings in him that it always had: all-encompassing warmth and safety mixed with guilt, but it was familiar enough to calm him and ease his breathing to a point of near sleep.
But even though his thoughts had become sluggish, they didn’t stop. And they wanted out, spurred by this unexpected chance he had been given, and when Fernando heard himself starting to talk, to mutter dazedly against Dan’s skin, it was almost like listening to someone else.
“Y’know… I was always good at imagining stuff,” he started softly, and Dan stayed where he was, didn’t move, but maybe he listened. “How things could’ve been, a whole life in the blink of an eye. After that first… match… in the showers, ‘n my nose was hurting like hell, I was thinking… imagining… I remembered signing for Liverpool… meeting you…”
Fernando sighed, breath hitching, fingers curling in Dan’s shirt.
“Everything was so good… but then I remembered Xabi leaving, that horrible… season… stupid, fucked up injury… coming seventh, Masch leaving, Rafa leaving… damn owner war… everything getting worse ‘n worse…”
He had to stop, needed to breathe, breathe, not hurt, Dan… Fernando shuddered, swallowed heavily and spoke on.
“Remembered walking in the park, ‘n there was this boy and his mum asking for an autograph… gave it to him, but I didn’t even really look at him, didn’t even smile… nothing like I would’ve done before… how I realised I couldn’t… anymore… couldn’t go on like this… God, I thought…”
And again he fell silent, thinking about the way Dan felt against him, firm and warm and secure. And he wished… he wished…
“And then I imagined, if just a small thing would’ve been different like… like NESV buying us right away instead of those… those… I thought… saw everything being… better… us winning the league that one year… when we were so close… lifting that cup, celebrating… everything right… being in the Champions League… me not getting fucked up cause of that… injury… and imagined us in that same match against Chelsea, thrashing them…”
His throat was closing up again, but he needed to say this, needed Dan to hear even though he had become stiff against him.
“Saw us in the showers afterwards too, just you ‘n me… ‘n we had sex right there, ‘n we were… glowing… ‘n you asked… if I thought ‘bout leaving cause we still hadn’t won El Champions… and I laughed ‘n said… ‘Don’t be stupid… why’d I ever wanna leave…’ But I was still in the showers with all those people I didn’t know… alone… still hurting so bad…”
His voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, his closed eyes stinging drily, but Dan’s hand was brushing over his hair, just once.
“I wanted… I just wanted… lo siento… I… I’m sorry…”
“Shh,” Dan whispered and Fernando let himself fall into his unwavering presence. Wished he could simply stay here and not have to worry about scoring a goal ever again.
“Dan… will you… will you ever forgive me?”
The body against his lay unnaturally still, and it remained silent around them, heavily, defeatingly silent. And even though Fernando’s heart bled he stayed there in Dan’s arms and held on because he knew that whatever he was going to get, it would have to be enough to get him not just through the night, but a lot longer than that.
X-rated
“I bet you never thought you’d star in an x-rated movie some day,” Fernando grinned down at him from where he was propped up over Dan on his hands. His blond strands were dishevelled, his dark eyes shining, his face glowing with arousal and Dan couldn’t help placing his hands over Fernando’s hip bones right where his lover was straddling him and gently guiding his lazily circling hips up and down. He mirrored the cheeky smile directed at him.
“No. Definitely not.”
They both couldn’t help glancing over to where the camera was placed on a tripod next to a corner of the foot end of their bed, and neither could they suppress the adrenaline-induced, giddy laughter.
Then Fernando lowered his head and caught Dan’s lips in a kiss, moulding their lips together with luxurious, languid abandon, maybe a little too much tongue, maybe a little too lascivious just for the camera, but Dan’s moan was real and heart-felt, his hands tightening around Fernando’s hips, his own bucking up into the willing body of his lover.
“You know,” he remarked as soon as their lips broke contact, the grin almost challenging, “I never really took you as the type for having porn star qualities…”
Fernando snorted and tightened around him in retaliation, making Dan gasp.
“You need to work on your compliments, baby.”
“I think that one actually was pretty… good… oh…”
The blond smirked, ground his hips down again and threw his head back in pleasure as that spot inside him was rubbed oh so deliciously.
They didn’t need much more to get off, and in the end they didn’t care if they moved in the right angle or made the right noises, they clang to each other in brain-melting fits of passion until even the last shudders had subsided.
When Fernando lay bonelessly on Dan’s chest and Dan had one arm loosely wrapped around Fernando’s waist, a low chuckle filled the sex-scented air.
“You know what we should call it? One night in -”
“Don’t. Even. Think. It.”