Post Match Fics and Stevie
This is I swear, the last of the Newcastle-Liv Post Match fics.
I'm sorry to say, this whole Stevie thing has infiltrated my writing...(It's just that it's at the top of my mind...)
Trust life to throw this at us at this time. Knew things were going too well not to have something like this happen. That said, I'm sure things can be resolved. It doesn't seem plausible that Stevie would go and smash some guy's face in over music. Well, we can't do anything but fret and hope for the best.
Title: Hat Trick
Pairing: Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: True in the land of imagination only.
Summary: Xabi and Stevie talk about what could have been in the Newcastle-Liverpool match.
Word Count: 273
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated! Good/bad, either is fine. Thanks!
Hat Trick
“You could have had a hat trick, Stevie.” Xabi ran his fingers lightly down Steven Gerrard’s cheek. The two men lay sprawled in the most undignified fashion across the soft sheets of their hotel beds, intoxicated from the elation of winning, of winning in style and ending the year top of the table.
“Mmm, Rafa really likes to take us off when we’re almost to a hat trick, doesn’t he? To be fair, I was tired, and I might not of gotten a third.” Steven Gerrard sighed inaudibly at the Spaniard’s touch.
“No, the penalty, Stevie. If you had still been on, it would have been yours to take.”
Steven opened his blue eyes and looked straight at Xabi. After a long pause, he spoke. “But I wasn’t, so you took it.”
There was a hint of regret, of disappointment, as he realised what could have been. He drummed his fingers on the wooden edge of the bed frame, deep in thought. He thought about the Spaniard who lay beside him, how Xabi has always been there for him, how Xabi is so deeply etched into his life and he smiled. Of course it was Xabi who took the penalty, it could be no other man.
Bringing Xabi’s hand to his lips, he kissed the hand which had on countless previous occasion brought insane pleasure to his body, had worshipped his skin, his hair and could, at just even a light accidental touch, make him feel giddy with love. “Xabi, you’re wrong. I did have a hat trick, we had a hat trick. You and me, Xabi, together, a team. It was ours.”
Title: Now and Then
Pairing: Steven Gerrard/Michael Owen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: True in the land of imagination only.
Summary: For old time’s sake.
A/N: Covers the Newcastle-Liverpool match and the Steven Gerrard got arrested storm.
Word Count: 768
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated! Good/bad, either is fine. Thanks!
Now and Then
They shook hands in front of the referee. As captains, they exchanged the required pleasantries and shook hands. The two friends smiled warmly at each other. It wasn’t the first time they had played on opposite teams but it still hurt, to be enemies, even if it’s only for ninety minutes. The feel of his hand within his own grasp brought back memories from years past, of happier times when they both wore Liverpool red with pride and joy. Today, only one still sported that crest on his chest. There was no time for dwelling in the past however; a match was about to start. Eyes grim with concentration and focus, they nodded to each other before turning back to their own teams and taking up their positions in preparation for kick off.
It had been embarrassing. They had been slaughtered by a rampant Liverpool squad. Had it not been for the brilliance of Given, they could have suffered from an even more devastating score line. Michael Owen tried to forget the last match, tried to look forward into the future. But that was just as bleak. Who knows what would happen in the January transfer window?
The phone rang.
He recognised the caller before he even heard the voice. He recognised that breathing that came down the phone as the caller hesitated. Stevie always did that when he is worried about something. Oh, they had been so close once, so very close to each other. Now they were restricted to phone calls and infrequent coffee shop meetings. Both were busy with their own families, with their own clubs. Almost strangers, really. He waited for Stevie to speak.
“Mikey?” Steven’s voice was breathy and anxious.
“Yes, Stevie?” Patience. He was always the patient one of the two. Stevie was so impulsive when he was younger; he never practiced the old adage of ‘think before you leap’. There would be no filter between words in his mind and words that came out of his mouth. Michael had loved his spontaneity and learnt to live with the trouble it caused.
“I’m sorry about the match.” More heavy breathing down the phone.
Michael could see Stevie just now. Twisted with guilt because his wonder performance had been inflicted on him, on Michael, his friend, his lover. Past lover. Smiling wearily, he said what he had always said to Stevie, “It doesn’t matter.”
***********
The papers were running the story everywhere. The clean image of Steven Gerrard had, in the dying days of the year 2008, been forever tainted. It didn’t matter that no one knew if there’s any truth behind the alleged assault. He’d been arrested, charged. No one cared if he was really guilty or not. They just soaked up all the hype surrounding this once seemingly perfect footballer. They loved that he wasn’t as angelic and proper as he tried to be in public. Loved that he too, could fall from grace. Michael took one look at the papers and tossed them aside.
He didn’t think Steven would have done what they claim he did. However, he wasn’t there when it happened. No one, except those who were there, knew what really happened. He picked up the phone and dialled a number he knew by heart but rarely used.
“Hello?” Michael spoke as the line crackled to life. He heard the heavy breathing again and knew who’s on the other end of the line, listening to him. “Stevie, I just wanted to say…I’m sorry.”
Michael swore he heard a sigh, then a strangled sob. They had grown up together and Michael knew how much this whole affair would have affected Steven. They might not be as close as they were, but you don’t forget a friend’s traits. He closed his eyes and thought of who they had been. They were just boys then, the pair of them. The past held so many possibilities and the present is but one of them. They had the world at their feet and a friendship they thought would never end. How wrong they had been.
Now this, this phone call is for the friendship of yesteryears. This is for the lovers they were. This is because, deep down, he still cared.
“Stevie,” Michael whispered, “You better be okay.”
Michael held the receiver close to his ear as he waited patiently for an answer. He needed to hear Stevie say that line. Needed to know that Stevie will be all right.
Another sigh, then the all familiar Scouse came through softly. “I’ll always be okay, Mikey.”
Silence. Then a click, and the line died.
***********
Again, I'm really sorry for giving you so many fics at once and for being so behind with reading all of your lovely fics. I will get there. Although I suspect most of us are more worried about Stevie than reading stories. It's been a weird sort of week.
I'm sorry to say, this whole Stevie thing has infiltrated my writing...(It's just that it's at the top of my mind...)
Trust life to throw this at us at this time. Knew things were going too well not to have something like this happen. That said, I'm sure things can be resolved. It doesn't seem plausible that Stevie would go and smash some guy's face in over music. Well, we can't do anything but fret and hope for the best.
Title: Hat Trick
Pairing: Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: True in the land of imagination only.
Summary: Xabi and Stevie talk about what could have been in the Newcastle-Liverpool match.
Word Count: 273
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated! Good/bad, either is fine. Thanks!
Hat Trick
“You could have had a hat trick, Stevie.” Xabi ran his fingers lightly down Steven Gerrard’s cheek. The two men lay sprawled in the most undignified fashion across the soft sheets of their hotel beds, intoxicated from the elation of winning, of winning in style and ending the year top of the table.
“Mmm, Rafa really likes to take us off when we’re almost to a hat trick, doesn’t he? To be fair, I was tired, and I might not of gotten a third.” Steven Gerrard sighed inaudibly at the Spaniard’s touch.
“No, the penalty, Stevie. If you had still been on, it would have been yours to take.”
Steven opened his blue eyes and looked straight at Xabi. After a long pause, he spoke. “But I wasn’t, so you took it.”
There was a hint of regret, of disappointment, as he realised what could have been. He drummed his fingers on the wooden edge of the bed frame, deep in thought. He thought about the Spaniard who lay beside him, how Xabi has always been there for him, how Xabi is so deeply etched into his life and he smiled. Of course it was Xabi who took the penalty, it could be no other man.
Bringing Xabi’s hand to his lips, he kissed the hand which had on countless previous occasion brought insane pleasure to his body, had worshipped his skin, his hair and could, at just even a light accidental touch, make him feel giddy with love. “Xabi, you’re wrong. I did have a hat trick, we had a hat trick. You and me, Xabi, together, a team. It was ours.”
Title: Now and Then
Pairing: Steven Gerrard/Michael Owen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: True in the land of imagination only.
Summary: For old time’s sake.
A/N: Covers the Newcastle-Liverpool match and the Steven Gerrard got arrested storm.
Word Count: 768
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated! Good/bad, either is fine. Thanks!
Now and Then
They shook hands in front of the referee. As captains, they exchanged the required pleasantries and shook hands. The two friends smiled warmly at each other. It wasn’t the first time they had played on opposite teams but it still hurt, to be enemies, even if it’s only for ninety minutes. The feel of his hand within his own grasp brought back memories from years past, of happier times when they both wore Liverpool red with pride and joy. Today, only one still sported that crest on his chest. There was no time for dwelling in the past however; a match was about to start. Eyes grim with concentration and focus, they nodded to each other before turning back to their own teams and taking up their positions in preparation for kick off.
It had been embarrassing. They had been slaughtered by a rampant Liverpool squad. Had it not been for the brilliance of Given, they could have suffered from an even more devastating score line. Michael Owen tried to forget the last match, tried to look forward into the future. But that was just as bleak. Who knows what would happen in the January transfer window?
The phone rang.
He recognised the caller before he even heard the voice. He recognised that breathing that came down the phone as the caller hesitated. Stevie always did that when he is worried about something. Oh, they had been so close once, so very close to each other. Now they were restricted to phone calls and infrequent coffee shop meetings. Both were busy with their own families, with their own clubs. Almost strangers, really. He waited for Stevie to speak.
“Mikey?” Steven’s voice was breathy and anxious.
“Yes, Stevie?” Patience. He was always the patient one of the two. Stevie was so impulsive when he was younger; he never practiced the old adage of ‘think before you leap’. There would be no filter between words in his mind and words that came out of his mouth. Michael had loved his spontaneity and learnt to live with the trouble it caused.
“I’m sorry about the match.” More heavy breathing down the phone.
Michael could see Stevie just now. Twisted with guilt because his wonder performance had been inflicted on him, on Michael, his friend, his lover. Past lover. Smiling wearily, he said what he had always said to Stevie, “It doesn’t matter.”
***********
The papers were running the story everywhere. The clean image of Steven Gerrard had, in the dying days of the year 2008, been forever tainted. It didn’t matter that no one knew if there’s any truth behind the alleged assault. He’d been arrested, charged. No one cared if he was really guilty or not. They just soaked up all the hype surrounding this once seemingly perfect footballer. They loved that he wasn’t as angelic and proper as he tried to be in public. Loved that he too, could fall from grace. Michael took one look at the papers and tossed them aside.
He didn’t think Steven would have done what they claim he did. However, he wasn’t there when it happened. No one, except those who were there, knew what really happened. He picked up the phone and dialled a number he knew by heart but rarely used.
“Hello?” Michael spoke as the line crackled to life. He heard the heavy breathing again and knew who’s on the other end of the line, listening to him. “Stevie, I just wanted to say…I’m sorry.”
Michael swore he heard a sigh, then a strangled sob. They had grown up together and Michael knew how much this whole affair would have affected Steven. They might not be as close as they were, but you don’t forget a friend’s traits. He closed his eyes and thought of who they had been. They were just boys then, the pair of them. The past held so many possibilities and the present is but one of them. They had the world at their feet and a friendship they thought would never end. How wrong they had been.
Now this, this phone call is for the friendship of yesteryears. This is for the lovers they were. This is because, deep down, he still cared.
“Stevie,” Michael whispered, “You better be okay.”
Michael held the receiver close to his ear as he waited patiently for an answer. He needed to hear Stevie say that line. Needed to know that Stevie will be all right.
Another sigh, then the all familiar Scouse came through softly. “I’ll always be okay, Mikey.”
Silence. Then a click, and the line died.
***********
Again, I'm really sorry for giving you so many fics at once and for being so behind with reading all of your lovely fics. I will get there. Although I suspect most of us are more worried about Stevie than reading stories. It's been a weird sort of week.