I Can't Explain
Title: I Can't Explain
Pairing: Nicklas Bendtner/Samir Nasri
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: Inspired by this video and takes place the night before this match (Monday, 3.2) and the night of the match (Tuesday, 3.3). Beta by metafic.
The night before, he comes over at a quarter to eleven. Knocks on your door so hard you think he'll hurt something, either the door or his hand. You answer wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants. He smiles, almost smirking, as he pushes past you and into your flat. You roll your eyes, shutting the door before walking into the living room. Samir's already sprawled across your couch and you cannot hide your amusement. He tips his head back, eyes going wide and gives you that look. You just shake your head, crossing to him.
He looks up at you, all big eyes and shy smile. You almost laugh, then lean in, as if you're going to kiss him, but grab the remote instead. He pouts, but you ignore him, turning off the television. The room slides into darkness, save the light in the kitchen. You hold your hand out to Samir and he takes it. You pull him in close, and he kisses you. Fingers through your hair, pressing you down, deeper into the kiss.
You open your mouth against his, kissing him harder. Then he pulls back, walking toward your bedroom. You don't follow right away. You clean up a bit, turn off the lights, and by the time you've changed, he's asleep in your bed. In your clothes. You silently slip in next to him, and in his sleep, he rolls into your arms. You hold him, and the next thing you know, your alarm is going off.
---
The same night as the game, you take Samir home. He's half-asleep in the car, there's no sound except the tires on pavement. Eventually you pull into the lot, turning off the car and you look over at him. He's not asleep, you can see that now. Instead, he's watching you and you know exactly what he's feeling. You almost lean across the car and kiss him, you want to. He wants you to. But you don't, because you don't want to stop to go inside and you'll have to.
Instead, you get out of the car, unlocking the door to your building, then your flat. Samir follows, hand against your lower back, fingers against skin. You drop your bags by the door and turn, grabbing his wrist roughly. He presses you back, against the wall, and then you kiss him. Hard on the mouth. He pushes his hands under your shirt, scratching your sides. The only thing you can think of to say is god, I want you. He just grins back, pressing harder against you.
Some how you make it to your bedroom. Undressing takes too long, and eventually you give up. You press him against the bed, on his back, shirt still on. You lean down, boxers somewhere around your knees and you kiss him hard. He pulls you in closer, kissing you harder. You're breathless and it's all you can do to remember the lube. On your fingers, then you press them against his ass. Twisting them in, one, then two and he arches up under you.
He grabs the front of your shirt, fingers curling tight as he pulls you in. You stroke his cock as he kisses you. As you kiss him back. He lets go, only so you can grab more lube. You wrap your hand around yourself, stroking fast, but you're watching him. He bites his bottom lip, eyes flitting from your face to your hand on your cock and back again. You shudder a little and press against him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you think you ought to get a condom, it's the same thought every time. And, just like every time before, you're thrust into him before you can change your mind.
It's Samir, you think. Then you kick your boxers off the rest of the way. Pushing into him, thrusting and he wraps his legs around you. You pull his shirt off and he barely manages to remove yours. You move faster, moaning softly as you kiss your way up his chest. Mouth against his shoulder, his throat, then along his jaw. His mouth finds yours and you kiss him deeper. His arms wrapping around your shoulders, nails digging in and you cannot get enough of this. Of him.
He arches under you, taking you in deeper. You feel his cock, hard against your stomach and you slide your hand between your bodies. Fingers against his cock, stroking almost in time with your thrusts. Then faster, thumb against the tip and he's shuddering under you. You pull at his cock, pressing yourself closer to him, letting him pull you down. Then he comes hard against your hand, squeezing tight around your cock. You don't last much longer. His mouth on your neck, yours on his shoulder. You bite it when you come, stifling the moan you can't contain.
You pull back, then out. He doesn't let you pull away, though. He never does. He runs his fingers down your chest, grabbing a tissue to clean you off. You don't protest. Even though you'd never tell him, you like this. You stretch out next to him, pulling him into your arms. He nestles there, head against your shoulder and he's the only person in the world who gets to see you like this. Who knows that you care about things that aren't just yourself.
He kisses your chest, telling you to go to sleep and stop thinking. You smile, tipping his head up and kissing him hard. He returns the kiss, just as rough, then settles down again. You close your eyes, and the next thing you remember, your alarm is going off. Again.
Pairing: Nicklas Bendtner/Samir Nasri
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: Inspired by this video and takes place the night before this match (Monday, 3.2) and the night of the match (Tuesday, 3.3). Beta by metafic.
The night before, he comes over at a quarter to eleven. Knocks on your door so hard you think he'll hurt something, either the door or his hand. You answer wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants. He smiles, almost smirking, as he pushes past you and into your flat. You roll your eyes, shutting the door before walking into the living room. Samir's already sprawled across your couch and you cannot hide your amusement. He tips his head back, eyes going wide and gives you that look. You just shake your head, crossing to him.
He looks up at you, all big eyes and shy smile. You almost laugh, then lean in, as if you're going to kiss him, but grab the remote instead. He pouts, but you ignore him, turning off the television. The room slides into darkness, save the light in the kitchen. You hold your hand out to Samir and he takes it. You pull him in close, and he kisses you. Fingers through your hair, pressing you down, deeper into the kiss.
You open your mouth against his, kissing him harder. Then he pulls back, walking toward your bedroom. You don't follow right away. You clean up a bit, turn off the lights, and by the time you've changed, he's asleep in your bed. In your clothes. You silently slip in next to him, and in his sleep, he rolls into your arms. You hold him, and the next thing you know, your alarm is going off.
---
The same night as the game, you take Samir home. He's half-asleep in the car, there's no sound except the tires on pavement. Eventually you pull into the lot, turning off the car and you look over at him. He's not asleep, you can see that now. Instead, he's watching you and you know exactly what he's feeling. You almost lean across the car and kiss him, you want to. He wants you to. But you don't, because you don't want to stop to go inside and you'll have to.
Instead, you get out of the car, unlocking the door to your building, then your flat. Samir follows, hand against your lower back, fingers against skin. You drop your bags by the door and turn, grabbing his wrist roughly. He presses you back, against the wall, and then you kiss him. Hard on the mouth. He pushes his hands under your shirt, scratching your sides. The only thing you can think of to say is god, I want you. He just grins back, pressing harder against you.
Some how you make it to your bedroom. Undressing takes too long, and eventually you give up. You press him against the bed, on his back, shirt still on. You lean down, boxers somewhere around your knees and you kiss him hard. He pulls you in closer, kissing you harder. You're breathless and it's all you can do to remember the lube. On your fingers, then you press them against his ass. Twisting them in, one, then two and he arches up under you.
He grabs the front of your shirt, fingers curling tight as he pulls you in. You stroke his cock as he kisses you. As you kiss him back. He lets go, only so you can grab more lube. You wrap your hand around yourself, stroking fast, but you're watching him. He bites his bottom lip, eyes flitting from your face to your hand on your cock and back again. You shudder a little and press against him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you think you ought to get a condom, it's the same thought every time. And, just like every time before, you're thrust into him before you can change your mind.
It's Samir, you think. Then you kick your boxers off the rest of the way. Pushing into him, thrusting and he wraps his legs around you. You pull his shirt off and he barely manages to remove yours. You move faster, moaning softly as you kiss your way up his chest. Mouth against his shoulder, his throat, then along his jaw. His mouth finds yours and you kiss him deeper. His arms wrapping around your shoulders, nails digging in and you cannot get enough of this. Of him.
He arches under you, taking you in deeper. You feel his cock, hard against your stomach and you slide your hand between your bodies. Fingers against his cock, stroking almost in time with your thrusts. Then faster, thumb against the tip and he's shuddering under you. You pull at his cock, pressing yourself closer to him, letting him pull you down. Then he comes hard against your hand, squeezing tight around your cock. You don't last much longer. His mouth on your neck, yours on his shoulder. You bite it when you come, stifling the moan you can't contain.
You pull back, then out. He doesn't let you pull away, though. He never does. He runs his fingers down your chest, grabbing a tissue to clean you off. You don't protest. Even though you'd never tell him, you like this. You stretch out next to him, pulling him into your arms. He nestles there, head against your shoulder and he's the only person in the world who gets to see you like this. Who knows that you care about things that aren't just yourself.
He kisses your chest, telling you to go to sleep and stop thinking. You smile, tipping his head up and kissing him hard. He returns the kiss, just as rough, then settles down again. You close your eyes, and the next thing you remember, your alarm is going off. Again.