(no subject)
Title: The Next Best Thing
Author: onecasillas
Pairing: Daniel Agger/Fernando Torres
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The following story isn't true, it never happened and never will. I don't own any of the characters.
Word count: 1,318
Dan had never been too good at remembering things. Names, dates and faces slipped away from his mind all the time, usually in those occasions in which he needed it the most, with only a few exceptions. This was one of them. This, he could pinpoint the exact moment, date and context and everything that came along with it, when it had all started.
It'd been his first time at Fernando's house, after all, and as embarrassing as it was, Daniel had to admit that was one of the main reasons why he remembered it so well. Have you ever seen this movie? and can I borrow that book of yours? had suddenly turned into come by tonight and we'll watch it and you can pick it up from my place whenever you like. And before he could really understand what was happening, Daniel had found himself standing in the middle of Fernando's bedroom, watching the striker rummage through his things while mumbling in a low voice.
Daniel hadn't been able to stop his eyes from wandering around, taking in everything that made that room so obviously Fernando's, until they'd fallen upon a sheet of paper pinned to the back of the door, its white contrasting with all the red that decorated every wall, both Liverpool and Atleti. He'd walked over and had noticed it was a list. '1. Get a full sleeve tattoo 2. Score this season in all derbies', it read.
"Nando?" he'd called, his eyes still glued to the paper curiously. "What is this?"
Fernando had stood behind him and had chuckled softly. "It's a list."
"Well, yes, obviously," Daniel had rolled his eyes. "But a list of what?"
"It's just… something stupid I've been doing since I was a kid. My mom convinced me to start with it, and I haven't stopped since." Fernando's voice had grown distant, and Daniel had realized that he'd gone back to his searching. "You're supposed to write things you want to accomplish, like… goals for your day, or more long term things. And when you achieve one, you check it off the list and replace it with another thing."
Daniel hadn't moved, but he hadn't continued reading past no.3 (Cut down on sweets) either, because it'd felt too intimate, like stealing Fernando's diary and going through his most secret desires.
No, he'd thought, that wasn't something for him to read.
He'd felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and he'd turned around, startled, guilt bubbling up inside him even if he'd had no reason to feel that way.
"Here it is," Fernando had said, shoving something into his chest.
"What?"
Fernando's eyebrows had gone up. "The book you wanted?"
"Oh, yeah, right. Thanks."
So there Daniel was, barely two days later, secluded in his bedroom, a notebook open on his lap and a pen in his right hand. At the top of the sheet, he'd scribbled To do, and had then crossed it out, thinking it sounded too much like buying groceries and doing the dishes. After a few seconds, he'd replaced it simply with The List.
He started going through his thoughts and memories, searching the darkest corners of his mind, looking, expecting to find something he desired with all his heart and soul.
The first thing popped up faster than what he would've thought. The image presented itself before his eyes, so obvious, so predictable, so far from where he was right now that it made his heart ache. He saw himself caught in that moment, raising the cup, nothing but deafening cheers ringing in his ears, and wrote down the first thing on his list.
1. Win the Champions League
The image continued as in a film, scene after scene, only that he couldn't get much farther than that. The final blow of the whistle, the loud cheering, the cup. And again, the final whistle, because Daniel couldn't picture what came next, and if he'd thought before that his heart was aching, then it was nothing compared to this.
His back hunched and his hands slightly shaking, he wrote the next point.
2. Find someone to celebrate with
And just like that, as if he was writing the script to his own movie, another scene popped up in his mind, clearer than any of the previous ones. The dressing rooms, the loud buzz of excited voices all around, bare torsos walking past, and a pair of brown eyes looking back at him, framed by blonde strands of hair. A smile bright enough to lighten up everything it reached.
Daniel's hand hovered over the paper, his eyes tearing up slightly. His mind hesitantly flicked from one image to the other, the cup, the brown eyes, and back to the cup, trying to find with which one laid the true meaning of happiness.
3. Fall in love
And all it took was another flash of Fernando's smile for his hand to move on its own accord and draw a tick right next to those words.
"So, did you do it?"
Fernando made the question that Monday morning, as he casually fell into the same pace that Daniel was jogging at ahead of the group, his now brown hair and his flushed face making him look like he was 15. Daniel felt a lurch in his stomach.
"… Yeah."
"Great," Fernando said with a smile. "Will you show it to me?"
Daniel could list a million reasons that jumped to his mind in that exact instant against the idea of showing Fernando the list, the humiliation of admitting he was lonely at the top of them all. But then he caught Fernando's face looking at him expectantly, still smiling one of his brightest smiles, and Daniel was lost.
"Sure."
It didn't take a genius to know that Fernando hadn't been expecting to read what was in Daniel's list, his eyes uncertain and his lips parted in surprise, his factions turning into an expression of pity that Daniel instantly wanted to wipe off his face. He had probably been expecting simpler things, like going to a Volbeat concert or not getting sent off in all season, things that didn't really matter, that wouldn't kill him if they didn't come true.
"It's stupid, really," Daniel mumbled, quickly snatching back the list and throwing it into his bag carelessly. "It's not like…"
… like I'm really that lonely, he wanted to say.
"It's not stupid," Fernando said, placing one of his hands over Daniel's thigh. "It's much better than mine, anyway."
Fernando didn't know what else to say and fell silent, waiting until the rest of the team left the dressing rooms, already showered and waving their hands at them in goodbye. Pepe was the last to leave, and his eyes were almost understanding as he nodded his head in Fernando's direction and glanced briefly at Daniel's hunched figure before walking through the door.
"You know what the best part of these lists is?" Fernando asked not even ten seconds after the goalkeeper had disappeared.
Daniel shrugged. "Not really."
"Well," Fernando moved his hand away from Daniel's thigh to instead wrap his arm around his shoulders. "it's that others can help you achieve them."
"Wouldn't that be cheating?" Daniel asked, and the striker couldn't help but chuckle.
"They're not exams, you know," he said with a small smile. "And what's the point in achieving things if you can't share it with somebody?"
Daniel's shoulders tensed at the memory of the Champions League celebrations he'd first pictured, surrounded by his teammates and yet very much alone. He looked up from the floor to Fernando with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"So what are you going to do? Steal the Champions League trophy for me?"
"No," Fernando answered with a grin. "But I can give you the next best thing."
And he leant down to press a kiss to Daniel's lips.
Author: onecasillas
Pairing: Daniel Agger/Fernando Torres
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The following story isn't true, it never happened and never will. I don't own any of the characters.
Word count: 1,318
Dan had never been too good at remembering things. Names, dates and faces slipped away from his mind all the time, usually in those occasions in which he needed it the most, with only a few exceptions. This was one of them. This, he could pinpoint the exact moment, date and context and everything that came along with it, when it had all started.
It'd been his first time at Fernando's house, after all, and as embarrassing as it was, Daniel had to admit that was one of the main reasons why he remembered it so well. Have you ever seen this movie? and can I borrow that book of yours? had suddenly turned into come by tonight and we'll watch it and you can pick it up from my place whenever you like. And before he could really understand what was happening, Daniel had found himself standing in the middle of Fernando's bedroom, watching the striker rummage through his things while mumbling in a low voice.
Daniel hadn't been able to stop his eyes from wandering around, taking in everything that made that room so obviously Fernando's, until they'd fallen upon a sheet of paper pinned to the back of the door, its white contrasting with all the red that decorated every wall, both Liverpool and Atleti. He'd walked over and had noticed it was a list. '1. Get a full sleeve tattoo 2. Score this season in all derbies', it read.
"Nando?" he'd called, his eyes still glued to the paper curiously. "What is this?"
Fernando had stood behind him and had chuckled softly. "It's a list."
"Well, yes, obviously," Daniel had rolled his eyes. "But a list of what?"
"It's just… something stupid I've been doing since I was a kid. My mom convinced me to start with it, and I haven't stopped since." Fernando's voice had grown distant, and Daniel had realized that he'd gone back to his searching. "You're supposed to write things you want to accomplish, like… goals for your day, or more long term things. And when you achieve one, you check it off the list and replace it with another thing."
Daniel hadn't moved, but he hadn't continued reading past no.3 (Cut down on sweets) either, because it'd felt too intimate, like stealing Fernando's diary and going through his most secret desires.
No, he'd thought, that wasn't something for him to read.
He'd felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and he'd turned around, startled, guilt bubbling up inside him even if he'd had no reason to feel that way.
"Here it is," Fernando had said, shoving something into his chest.
"What?"
Fernando's eyebrows had gone up. "The book you wanted?"
"Oh, yeah, right. Thanks."
So there Daniel was, barely two days later, secluded in his bedroom, a notebook open on his lap and a pen in his right hand. At the top of the sheet, he'd scribbled To do, and had then crossed it out, thinking it sounded too much like buying groceries and doing the dishes. After a few seconds, he'd replaced it simply with The List.
He started going through his thoughts and memories, searching the darkest corners of his mind, looking, expecting to find something he desired with all his heart and soul.
The first thing popped up faster than what he would've thought. The image presented itself before his eyes, so obvious, so predictable, so far from where he was right now that it made his heart ache. He saw himself caught in that moment, raising the cup, nothing but deafening cheers ringing in his ears, and wrote down the first thing on his list.
1. Win the Champions League
The image continued as in a film, scene after scene, only that he couldn't get much farther than that. The final blow of the whistle, the loud cheering, the cup. And again, the final whistle, because Daniel couldn't picture what came next, and if he'd thought before that his heart was aching, then it was nothing compared to this.
His back hunched and his hands slightly shaking, he wrote the next point.
2. Find someone to celebrate with
And just like that, as if he was writing the script to his own movie, another scene popped up in his mind, clearer than any of the previous ones. The dressing rooms, the loud buzz of excited voices all around, bare torsos walking past, and a pair of brown eyes looking back at him, framed by blonde strands of hair. A smile bright enough to lighten up everything it reached.
Daniel's hand hovered over the paper, his eyes tearing up slightly. His mind hesitantly flicked from one image to the other, the cup, the brown eyes, and back to the cup, trying to find with which one laid the true meaning of happiness.
3. Fall in love
And all it took was another flash of Fernando's smile for his hand to move on its own accord and draw a tick right next to those words.
"So, did you do it?"
Fernando made the question that Monday morning, as he casually fell into the same pace that Daniel was jogging at ahead of the group, his now brown hair and his flushed face making him look like he was 15. Daniel felt a lurch in his stomach.
"… Yeah."
"Great," Fernando said with a smile. "Will you show it to me?"
Daniel could list a million reasons that jumped to his mind in that exact instant against the idea of showing Fernando the list, the humiliation of admitting he was lonely at the top of them all. But then he caught Fernando's face looking at him expectantly, still smiling one of his brightest smiles, and Daniel was lost.
"Sure."
It didn't take a genius to know that Fernando hadn't been expecting to read what was in Daniel's list, his eyes uncertain and his lips parted in surprise, his factions turning into an expression of pity that Daniel instantly wanted to wipe off his face. He had probably been expecting simpler things, like going to a Volbeat concert or not getting sent off in all season, things that didn't really matter, that wouldn't kill him if they didn't come true.
"It's stupid, really," Daniel mumbled, quickly snatching back the list and throwing it into his bag carelessly. "It's not like…"
… like I'm really that lonely, he wanted to say.
"It's not stupid," Fernando said, placing one of his hands over Daniel's thigh. "It's much better than mine, anyway."
Fernando didn't know what else to say and fell silent, waiting until the rest of the team left the dressing rooms, already showered and waving their hands at them in goodbye. Pepe was the last to leave, and his eyes were almost understanding as he nodded his head in Fernando's direction and glanced briefly at Daniel's hunched figure before walking through the door.
"You know what the best part of these lists is?" Fernando asked not even ten seconds after the goalkeeper had disappeared.
Daniel shrugged. "Not really."
"Well," Fernando moved his hand away from Daniel's thigh to instead wrap his arm around his shoulders. "it's that others can help you achieve them."
"Wouldn't that be cheating?" Daniel asked, and the striker couldn't help but chuckle.
"They're not exams, you know," he said with a small smile. "And what's the point in achieving things if you can't share it with somebody?"
Daniel's shoulders tensed at the memory of the Champions League celebrations he'd first pictured, surrounded by his teammates and yet very much alone. He looked up from the floor to Fernando with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"So what are you going to do? Steal the Champions League trophy for me?"
"No," Fernando answered with a grin. "But I can give you the next best thing."
And he leant down to press a kiss to Daniel's lips.