Go Forward, Not Back
Title: Go Forward, Not Back
Pairing: Nicklas Bendtner/Cesc Fabregas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: For the fight challenge at contrelamontre.
---
He still hasn't forgiven you for the own goal and he won't look at you, except during matches. Maybe you shouldn't have yelled after him after that match. But you had a headache and you tried to explain that your nose hurt and it's not every day you get headbutted. But he didn't listen and so you left. That was the last time you spoke to him.
Maybe you should apologize, to try to make it up to him. But you don't. Except there's a moment on the pitch when it's like nothing happened. You're onside and you pass to him and he scores and for ten seconds everything is perfect. He wraps his arms around you and you pick him up and if it was anywhere else, you'd kiss him.
But you can't and by the time the match is over, he won't even look at you. You try to talk, trailing after him like some kind of lost puppy, but you know he's not buying it. You follow him home, glad Carla's back in Spain and not at his flat. You pound on the door until he gets annoyed and tells you to shut up. You beg for him to let you in, but you're a little surprised when he actually does.
You want to touch him, to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him toward you, but you don't. Now that you're here, now that you're facing him, you can't speak. He stares, eyes drilling holes in you and suddenly you wonder what the fuck you were thinking. You're speaking without really thinking and you can't stop yourself. He stares at you, open-mouthed and you cringe.
You yell, blaming him for everything. You know you should shut up, but you can't stop. You tell him that he shouldn't be ignoring you, that it's not your fault that you were hit in the face. You look at him, a little whine in your voice as you ask him why things can't go back to the way they were. You watch him get angrier and you can't stop talking. By the time you do stop, you realize you just wanted to wind him up. You wanted him to show emotion, anything.
You close your eyes, trying to get a grip, but just when you think you've got control, you're slammed against the wall. Your eyes fly open and Cesc is staring at you, pissed off and you don't know whether to be scared or turned on. You don't get a chance for either because he's pushing you again, trying to get you to leave. You growl at him, telling him he should know better and you stand your ground. You're bigger than he is, stronger and you push him back.
He stumbles but doesn't fall and so you push him again. You send him sprawling onto his couch and his eyes grow wide. Don't fuck with me, you yell at him. He growls back at you, pushing off the couch and launching himself at you. Shoulder against your chest and for a moment you're breathless. Gasping for air and you slam him against the wall. His head bounces a little and for a moment you think maybe you've gone too far. But he's clawing at your chest, pushing at you and it works.
You stumble back, away from him. For a moment everything stills and then you grab his shoulders. You pin him against the wall, pressing hard and you kiss him. His hands on your arms, nails digging in and he's kissing you back. You bite at his mouth, releasing his shoulders. His hands drop to your sides, pushing up your shirt and scratching at your skin. You start to step away, but he pulls you back. His hands at your hips now, digging in and you know there'll be marks the next day.
You kiss him again, lifting a hand up and twisting your fingers in his hair. You pull and he moans as you bite at his throat. Fuck me, he mumbles and you couldn't resist even if you wanted to.
He scratches your hair, half-whimpering as you drag him toward the couch. You practically throw him on the couch and he growls at you, but it's a different sound this time. There's a hunger that makes your gut twist, makes you hard and makes you want him. You pull your clothes off as he does the same, then fishes lube out from between the cushions of his couch. You almost smile, because that's the last place you left it. The last time you fucked him. You step in, quickly closing the distance and he grabs you, pulling you closer. You kiss him again as his hands slide around your cock. Lube-slick and he jerks his hands and you need him.
You take the lube from him as he turns, facing away from you. You squeeze some onto your fingers, then push them inside of him. He gasps, startled and you can't help but grin. He tips his head back and you bite his neck again. He mutters something, but you don't really listen. You twist your fingers inside him, but then he's growling. Telling you to hurry up.
Bastard, you mutter, jerking your fingers out. He gasps again and you laugh, fingers around your own cock and then you push against him. You watch as he braces himself on the back of the couch as you thrust. Pushing in deeper and you haven't done this since the week before that game. You don't think either of you will last long.
You thrust hard, mouth against his shoulders, then his neck. You pull at his hair once, tipping his head back until you can kiss him. He bites at your mouth as you thrust, then you release his hair. You wrap your arm around his chest, holding him to you as you thrust. You drop your other hand down, fingers around his cock. He shudders thrusting against your hand, then pushing back on your cock. You groan and you know he's grinning.
You bite his shoulder hard, leaving marks as you work your way along his back. He moans again, this time it's your name mixed with Spanish words you don't understand. You thrust faster, shuddering and you're close. You twist your fingers around his cock, pulling and then jerking. He tenses, tipping his head back as you stroke along his cock. You lean in and cover his mouth with yours, kissing him fiercely, intense and then he's coming hard, against your hand and the back of his couch.
He moans again, soft sounds against your mouth and you're close. He squeezes around you, pushing back, mumbling your name and that's all it takes. You half-whimper, but it's lost in a moan as you come, thrusting hard.
For a moment neither of you move, suspended in time and it's almost like the fight never happened. Then you shift, pulling back and he does whimper this time. A low, quiet sound and he slumps down on the couch. He looks at you and opens his mouth, as if he wants to say something. You shake your head, pressing your finger against his lips.
I'm sorry, you whisper and he doesn't reply, just leans in and kisses you. He crawls onto your lap and you wrap your arms around him. Maybe it's not perfect, maybe you'll fuck up again, but at least you've fixed this.
Pairing: Nicklas Bendtner/Cesc Fabregas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: For the fight challenge at contrelamontre.
---
He still hasn't forgiven you for the own goal and he won't look at you, except during matches. Maybe you shouldn't have yelled after him after that match. But you had a headache and you tried to explain that your nose hurt and it's not every day you get headbutted. But he didn't listen and so you left. That was the last time you spoke to him.
Maybe you should apologize, to try to make it up to him. But you don't. Except there's a moment on the pitch when it's like nothing happened. You're onside and you pass to him and he scores and for ten seconds everything is perfect. He wraps his arms around you and you pick him up and if it was anywhere else, you'd kiss him.
But you can't and by the time the match is over, he won't even look at you. You try to talk, trailing after him like some kind of lost puppy, but you know he's not buying it. You follow him home, glad Carla's back in Spain and not at his flat. You pound on the door until he gets annoyed and tells you to shut up. You beg for him to let you in, but you're a little surprised when he actually does.
You want to touch him, to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him toward you, but you don't. Now that you're here, now that you're facing him, you can't speak. He stares, eyes drilling holes in you and suddenly you wonder what the fuck you were thinking. You're speaking without really thinking and you can't stop yourself. He stares at you, open-mouthed and you cringe.
You yell, blaming him for everything. You know you should shut up, but you can't stop. You tell him that he shouldn't be ignoring you, that it's not your fault that you were hit in the face. You look at him, a little whine in your voice as you ask him why things can't go back to the way they were. You watch him get angrier and you can't stop talking. By the time you do stop, you realize you just wanted to wind him up. You wanted him to show emotion, anything.
You close your eyes, trying to get a grip, but just when you think you've got control, you're slammed against the wall. Your eyes fly open and Cesc is staring at you, pissed off and you don't know whether to be scared or turned on. You don't get a chance for either because he's pushing you again, trying to get you to leave. You growl at him, telling him he should know better and you stand your ground. You're bigger than he is, stronger and you push him back.
He stumbles but doesn't fall and so you push him again. You send him sprawling onto his couch and his eyes grow wide. Don't fuck with me, you yell at him. He growls back at you, pushing off the couch and launching himself at you. Shoulder against your chest and for a moment you're breathless. Gasping for air and you slam him against the wall. His head bounces a little and for a moment you think maybe you've gone too far. But he's clawing at your chest, pushing at you and it works.
You stumble back, away from him. For a moment everything stills and then you grab his shoulders. You pin him against the wall, pressing hard and you kiss him. His hands on your arms, nails digging in and he's kissing you back. You bite at his mouth, releasing his shoulders. His hands drop to your sides, pushing up your shirt and scratching at your skin. You start to step away, but he pulls you back. His hands at your hips now, digging in and you know there'll be marks the next day.
You kiss him again, lifting a hand up and twisting your fingers in his hair. You pull and he moans as you bite at his throat. Fuck me, he mumbles and you couldn't resist even if you wanted to.
He scratches your hair, half-whimpering as you drag him toward the couch. You practically throw him on the couch and he growls at you, but it's a different sound this time. There's a hunger that makes your gut twist, makes you hard and makes you want him. You pull your clothes off as he does the same, then fishes lube out from between the cushions of his couch. You almost smile, because that's the last place you left it. The last time you fucked him. You step in, quickly closing the distance and he grabs you, pulling you closer. You kiss him again as his hands slide around your cock. Lube-slick and he jerks his hands and you need him.
You take the lube from him as he turns, facing away from you. You squeeze some onto your fingers, then push them inside of him. He gasps, startled and you can't help but grin. He tips his head back and you bite his neck again. He mutters something, but you don't really listen. You twist your fingers inside him, but then he's growling. Telling you to hurry up.
Bastard, you mutter, jerking your fingers out. He gasps again and you laugh, fingers around your own cock and then you push against him. You watch as he braces himself on the back of the couch as you thrust. Pushing in deeper and you haven't done this since the week before that game. You don't think either of you will last long.
You thrust hard, mouth against his shoulders, then his neck. You pull at his hair once, tipping his head back until you can kiss him. He bites at your mouth as you thrust, then you release his hair. You wrap your arm around his chest, holding him to you as you thrust. You drop your other hand down, fingers around his cock. He shudders thrusting against your hand, then pushing back on your cock. You groan and you know he's grinning.
You bite his shoulder hard, leaving marks as you work your way along his back. He moans again, this time it's your name mixed with Spanish words you don't understand. You thrust faster, shuddering and you're close. You twist your fingers around his cock, pulling and then jerking. He tenses, tipping his head back as you stroke along his cock. You lean in and cover his mouth with yours, kissing him fiercely, intense and then he's coming hard, against your hand and the back of his couch.
He moans again, soft sounds against your mouth and you're close. He squeezes around you, pushing back, mumbling your name and that's all it takes. You half-whimper, but it's lost in a moan as you come, thrusting hard.
For a moment neither of you move, suspended in time and it's almost like the fight never happened. Then you shift, pulling back and he does whimper this time. A low, quiet sound and he slumps down on the couch. He looks at you and opens his mouth, as if he wants to say something. You shake your head, pressing your finger against his lips.
I'm sorry, you whisper and he doesn't reply, just leans in and kisses you. He crawls onto your lap and you wrap your arms around him. Maybe it's not perfect, maybe you'll fuck up again, but at least you've fixed this.