[Not Always Pretty] - Standalone
Ttile: Not Always Pretty [standalone]
Fandom: Football
Club: Liverpool FC
Pairing: Steven Gerrard and Xabi Alonso
Summary: To have sex with another man isn't always pretty.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst.
Dedication: To
miomeinmio this is response to our chat about that story you were 'against' and the review I sent you in response but never actually sent it because it may have given you a heart failure (if made public). I hope it destructed itself after 5 seconds o_0
Not Always Pretty
Your knees are sore, rough and dry. Your back bowed and your head low, hands clenching the silk sheets, knuckles white as fresh snow. You grit your teeth not sure if you like the burn and pain. You could tackle them all, forgetting you could break your legs. Head down, eyes on the ball, slide, get them or miss them a chance you take. This however hurt like a mother fucker. You gasp something realising it was a mere groan instead of the no that was on the tip of your tongue.
You ain’t a pussy do this.
You keep that mantra going. You could do this, let the fat head of his cock enter you from behind making you want to scream and crawl away. But you stay. Cause you ain’t a pussy. He tells you to breath: Breathe Stevie you need to relax. Xabi’s hand is heavy on your back, and you wish he’d just get the fuck off you so you could go home and die. But you shake your head, sweat streaking down your pained face like a bloody monsoon. He kisses your shoulder blade sweet and soft, almost like he doesn’t want to pain you any further.
“Just do it,” you bark at him. Your legs are shaking now and you feel nauseous. He whispers something in Spanish and you feel your anger loosen some more.
“What the fuck are you muttering about,” you say hoarsely. He says something in Spanish again, and then he’s off you, you fall onto the bed your arms like jelly. Your back feel cold as the chilled air hits your back. You turn your head enough to see Xabi pulling on his jeans, leaving his underwear on the floor.
“What..?”
“You’re not ready Steven. I’m not…forcing you,” he said finally, zipping up and sighing. Scrubbing a hand over his unshaved face he picks up his black shirt and pulls it on.
“You weren’t forcing me.”
He laughs, but its hollow and tired you almost feel bad, “Sure. Tomorrow would have been fun.”
“What do you mean?” You ask getting up off the bed and standing in front of him. You still feel like shit. Stomach sore, arsehole feeling raw and legs shaky but you needed to look into his eyes for this. Mushy as fuck. But who cared?
“You fuck me. All the time. I have no problem, I like it, yes. But you, you won’t let me in. it’ll be too gay for you.”
You snort at that, “Look I have no problem with what we do. I wouldn’t be shagging your arse if I did.”
“Different when you’re the one…receiving…makes it all real,” Xabi snaps back.
You glare at him feeling angry and ashamed and something else guilt? Maybe who knew, “Look stop making stuff up okay. Its hard alright I’ll get use to it.”
“Maybe. Maybe not, but I don’t want to keep trying.”
“So how the fuck I’m I suppose to get use to your cock up my arse, if we don’t try.”
“Because you won’t LET ME!”
Xabi’s face is angry red, eyes wide and hands shaking slightly, you go towards him and grab his hands, trying to calm him down make him see that you would try. Even though you knew that was a lie.
“Look mate, if this is about respect then I do respect you. I do want to try this. This ain’t just about me. Its about us and I know I promised you that.”
“You have a habit of breaking promises Steven,” Xabi says.
You bite your lip, drawing away from him and standing with your hands around yourself. You were cornered, alone and scared. You felt guilty, ashamed and were a cheater. What difference did it make if you took that step. Let him in and be what you’ve always wanted, always yearned for?
“I don’t think you’ll ever be able to take that step Steven.”
“Why?” You ask, like a child wanting to know why Santa wasn’t real.
“Because you live in your own homophobia. I don’t blame you…I just feel sorry for you.”
Xabi picks the rest of his things and leaves the bedroom with a small click telling you he has left. You turn away and look outside the window, the inky black sky making itself light, letting the sun peak through in its grey and orange haze.
Because you live in your own homophobia.
I just feel sorry for you
His words hurt you deep and you sit down in the carpeted floor, no long thinking about the rough exterior on your dry skin. You draw your legs, lay your head on your knees and sob quietly letting years of confusion and guilt seep through your pores.
Fandom: Football
Club: Liverpool FC
Pairing: Steven Gerrard and Xabi Alonso
Summary: To have sex with another man isn't always pretty.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst.
Dedication: To
miomeinmio this is response to our chat about that story you were 'against' and the review I sent you in response but never actually sent it because it may have given you a heart failure (if made public). I hope it destructed itself after 5 seconds o_0
Not Always Pretty
Your knees are sore, rough and dry. Your back bowed and your head low, hands clenching the silk sheets, knuckles white as fresh snow. You grit your teeth not sure if you like the burn and pain. You could tackle them all, forgetting you could break your legs. Head down, eyes on the ball, slide, get them or miss them a chance you take. This however hurt like a mother fucker. You gasp something realising it was a mere groan instead of the no that was on the tip of your tongue.
You ain’t a pussy do this.
You keep that mantra going. You could do this, let the fat head of his cock enter you from behind making you want to scream and crawl away. But you stay. Cause you ain’t a pussy. He tells you to breath: Breathe Stevie you need to relax. Xabi’s hand is heavy on your back, and you wish he’d just get the fuck off you so you could go home and die. But you shake your head, sweat streaking down your pained face like a bloody monsoon. He kisses your shoulder blade sweet and soft, almost like he doesn’t want to pain you any further.
“Just do it,” you bark at him. Your legs are shaking now and you feel nauseous. He whispers something in Spanish and you feel your anger loosen some more.
“What the fuck are you muttering about,” you say hoarsely. He says something in Spanish again, and then he’s off you, you fall onto the bed your arms like jelly. Your back feel cold as the chilled air hits your back. You turn your head enough to see Xabi pulling on his jeans, leaving his underwear on the floor.
“What..?”
“You’re not ready Steven. I’m not…forcing you,” he said finally, zipping up and sighing. Scrubbing a hand over his unshaved face he picks up his black shirt and pulls it on.
“You weren’t forcing me.”
He laughs, but its hollow and tired you almost feel bad, “Sure. Tomorrow would have been fun.”
“What do you mean?” You ask getting up off the bed and standing in front of him. You still feel like shit. Stomach sore, arsehole feeling raw and legs shaky but you needed to look into his eyes for this. Mushy as fuck. But who cared?
“You fuck me. All the time. I have no problem, I like it, yes. But you, you won’t let me in. it’ll be too gay for you.”
You snort at that, “Look I have no problem with what we do. I wouldn’t be shagging your arse if I did.”
“Different when you’re the one…receiving…makes it all real,” Xabi snaps back.
You glare at him feeling angry and ashamed and something else guilt? Maybe who knew, “Look stop making stuff up okay. Its hard alright I’ll get use to it.”
“Maybe. Maybe not, but I don’t want to keep trying.”
“So how the fuck I’m I suppose to get use to your cock up my arse, if we don’t try.”
“Because you won’t LET ME!”
Xabi’s face is angry red, eyes wide and hands shaking slightly, you go towards him and grab his hands, trying to calm him down make him see that you would try. Even though you knew that was a lie.
“Look mate, if this is about respect then I do respect you. I do want to try this. This ain’t just about me. Its about us and I know I promised you that.”
“You have a habit of breaking promises Steven,” Xabi says.
You bite your lip, drawing away from him and standing with your hands around yourself. You were cornered, alone and scared. You felt guilty, ashamed and were a cheater. What difference did it make if you took that step. Let him in and be what you’ve always wanted, always yearned for?
“I don’t think you’ll ever be able to take that step Steven.”
“Why?” You ask, like a child wanting to know why Santa wasn’t real.
“Because you live in your own homophobia. I don’t blame you…I just feel sorry for you.”
Xabi picks the rest of his things and leaves the bedroom with a small click telling you he has left. You turn away and look outside the window, the inky black sky making itself light, letting the sun peak through in its grey and orange haze.
Because you live in your own homophobia.
I just feel sorry for you
His words hurt you deep and you sit down in the carpeted floor, no long thinking about the rough exterior on your dry skin. You draw your legs, lay your head on your knees and sob quietly letting years of confusion and guilt seep through your pores.