[Fic - Real Madrid] Until Our Tongues Tangle
Title:Until Our Tongues Tangle
Fandom/Pairing: Real Madrid - Karim Benzema/Mesut Özil
Rating: PG-13
Author: onyxexistance/openmoments
Spoilers: --
Word Count: 559
Summary: Karim wishes Mesut could mean the same thing he means when he says, "I like you."
Disclaimers: Do not own/not mine/would not be writing fic/etc.
Prompt: --
Author's Notes: Once again, this can, and will, be blamed on cagedlight who wanted Benz/Mesut fic. And then it just had to be angsty, because of reasons.
You know you’ll never have his full attention, because no one does. When he first arrived at the club, everyone thought he was unsocial, possibly unfriendly. And then they got to know him and found that he’s not that way, not at all.
No, he’s friendly once he gets over his shyness and playful and everyone loves him. And he loves everyone. And that’s where the issue is. Because everyone wants some of him, his time, his presence, him. And he’s so clueless that he just bestows love on everyone, but not enough for their tastes.
You didn’t get there as quickly as everyone else did, it was more slowly because you’re shy as well, you don’t like coming out of your shell, you still haven’t as much as he has and you admire him for it.
You tell him that, pant it into his neck as you lay stretched out on top of him, worn out and covered in sweat and he turns his head to look at you, cranes his neck so your eyes can see each other.
His smile is innocent and pure (even though you know that mouth isn’t, you’ve had it wrapped around your cock too many times to believe that) and he passes his hand over your bald head, rests it on the back of your neck.
You turn your head a little so you’re not looking at him in the eye because you know he’s going to leave, because he always leaves. You know it’s not because of you, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have feelings for you, but they’re not equal to yours. He’s got so many people to spread his feelings around to and you’re just glad that he counts you among those people.
“I like you, you know,” he mumbles into your turned ear, breathe tickling against the side of your face and you can’t help the smile that you hide in his shoulder.
“I do,” he insists as he rolls you two over so he’s on top, chin sitting on his stacked fists and looks at you through his long lashes, your legs tangled over the edge of the bed.
“I know,” you tell him simply, because you know it is true, that he’s being honest, with both you and himself, but you know it’s not the same sort of ‘I like you’ that it means for you. But, you take what you can get because you want him in his life, want whatever you can get from him.
Instead of ruining this time with thoughts like that, you lean up and kiss him, soft and sweet and you can feel him smiling against your mouth and when you wake up in the morning and he’s already gone, slipped out of the house with a quick note on the table downstairs, you’ll think back to this moment and hold it close. Replay it back in your mind, how you had him and how he was with you and only you, how he moaned your name and kissed you sweetly, as he runs into Fabio’s arms or runs with Sami or shares heart eyes with Cris.
You hold those memories close to you when he can’t come over and you know he’ll be back, because, somehow, he always comes back.
And you hope, one day, he’ll stay.
Fandom/Pairing: Real Madrid - Karim Benzema/Mesut Özil
Rating: PG-13
Author: onyxexistance/openmoments
Spoilers: --
Word Count: 559
Summary: Karim wishes Mesut could mean the same thing he means when he says, "I like you."
Disclaimers: Do not own/not mine/would not be writing fic/etc.
Prompt: --
Author's Notes: Once again, this can, and will, be blamed on cagedlight who wanted Benz/Mesut fic. And then it just had to be angsty, because of reasons.
You know you’ll never have his full attention, because no one does. When he first arrived at the club, everyone thought he was unsocial, possibly unfriendly. And then they got to know him and found that he’s not that way, not at all.
No, he’s friendly once he gets over his shyness and playful and everyone loves him. And he loves everyone. And that’s where the issue is. Because everyone wants some of him, his time, his presence, him. And he’s so clueless that he just bestows love on everyone, but not enough for their tastes.
You didn’t get there as quickly as everyone else did, it was more slowly because you’re shy as well, you don’t like coming out of your shell, you still haven’t as much as he has and you admire him for it.
You tell him that, pant it into his neck as you lay stretched out on top of him, worn out and covered in sweat and he turns his head to look at you, cranes his neck so your eyes can see each other.
His smile is innocent and pure (even though you know that mouth isn’t, you’ve had it wrapped around your cock too many times to believe that) and he passes his hand over your bald head, rests it on the back of your neck.
You turn your head a little so you’re not looking at him in the eye because you know he’s going to leave, because he always leaves. You know it’s not because of you, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have feelings for you, but they’re not equal to yours. He’s got so many people to spread his feelings around to and you’re just glad that he counts you among those people.
“I like you, you know,” he mumbles into your turned ear, breathe tickling against the side of your face and you can’t help the smile that you hide in his shoulder.
“I do,” he insists as he rolls you two over so he’s on top, chin sitting on his stacked fists and looks at you through his long lashes, your legs tangled over the edge of the bed.
“I know,” you tell him simply, because you know it is true, that he’s being honest, with both you and himself, but you know it’s not the same sort of ‘I like you’ that it means for you. But, you take what you can get because you want him in his life, want whatever you can get from him.
Instead of ruining this time with thoughts like that, you lean up and kiss him, soft and sweet and you can feel him smiling against your mouth and when you wake up in the morning and he’s already gone, slipped out of the house with a quick note on the table downstairs, you’ll think back to this moment and hold it close. Replay it back in your mind, how you had him and how he was with you and only you, how he moaned your name and kissed you sweetly, as he runs into Fabio’s arms or runs with Sami or shares heart eyes with Cris.
You hold those memories close to you when he can’t come over and you know he’ll be back, because, somehow, he always comes back.
And you hope, one day, he’ll stay.