football; five times iker seduced cesc
title: five times iker seduced cesc
pairing: cesc fabregas/iker casillas
rating: pg-pg-13
words: 2025 total
alcohol (pg-13; 689)
warning: this is early in their relationship. they don't really know each other. and i don't know how to do sexy.
"so who's up for another round?" cesc asked the room at large. he still could keep his head up, and his eyes weren't lit only by copious amounts of alcohol--there was something indescribable about the little spaniard who went off to london that shone through in his eyes.
he could feel a difference in the room than when they started drinking a few hours ago. villa was still sitting off to the side, putting on that air that said 'i have a bitch face, don't make me use it' except now his constant companion, david silva, had given up faking indifference on the couch and was instead whimpering urgently as villa's hands teased in his shorts.
fernando had a lot to drink, but where that should have made him look drunk and undesirable, he still looked like he always did--freckled and fuckable. sergio, as usual, was counting each pigment mark with his tongue and teeth.
"i don't think they're interested anymore." cesc turned his eyes to the other person in the room. "i guess not," he conceded. he looked down at the bottle in his hands. "but there's still so much more left."
iker grinned, but not the one that he ever gave interviewers. there was a tilt to this one, a dangerous hidden edge that hinted but never pointed. "then come over here."
there was a shift in the atmosphere, something had changed in the hotel room. it was like electric charges were emanating and drowning him, making his limbs tingly and head heavy. cesc didn't remember thinking twice about getting up from his criss crossed seat in the middle of the room, but he did recall the magnetism that drew him over to the armchair that iker was sitting in. the light only shone partly on his face, outlining the stubble appearing on his face and neck but clouding his eyes so cesc could only see a bare hint of light reflected.
cesc realized that maybe he really should have rethought this. cesc was in front of iker, keeping a hold of the bottle and holding it in offering. his mind was saying things, but his mouth was stopped dry at the man in front of him. iker had that ability; he could just look and know. there wasn't anything definable, but iker was entrancing. cesc could feel himself blushing and his groin tightening; he tried to keep on track, but then he realized that he wasn't sure what the fucking track was, let alone where he had gotten off at.
he brought the bottle to his lips and let the liquid fall in, trying to focus on something other than the way iker was sprawled in the chair like he owned it and the way his legs were spread like an offering or invitation. because those thoughts didn't lead to anything good. cesc closed his eyes as he swallowed, but only seeing iker in his mind. when he opened them, iker had gotten up from the chair and was standing incredibly close to cesc. so close in fact that cesc could see that yes stubble was growing, but cesc could also distinctly make out iker's eyes. they were deep and magnetic, haunting in their beauty. cesc gave up trying to avoid his erection because he was getting hard and that was just the way it was.
iker took the bottle from cesc's limp hand and mimicked cesc's actions. cesc couldn't look away from iker's lips that were wet and full and incredibly tempting. he probably made a sound that would be embarrassing to explain; but iker doesn't call him on it. cesc feels like he missed a memo somewhere because he hasn't quite got all the pieces put together correctly.
the same grin appears on iker's face, causing cesc's toes to curl and his stomach to tighten. "thanks." and he walks away, out the door and presumably to his own hotel room.
it isn't until cesc breathes again without a hitch in his throat that he realizes he's painfully hard and could really use that alcohol that iker walked off with. oh, and that he's without a doubt fucked.
stretching (pg 185)
warning: goal keepers stretching is ridiculously hot. and their pants--wooh! or so cesc thinks.
it was distracting, cesc would admit that. other words came to mind; captivating, arousing holymotherfuckinghot. cesc cocked his head and realized that holymotherfuckinghot wasn't one word but then his eyes followed the leg motions of that keeper and holy fuck he forgot what he was thinking about--again.
fernando clapped him on the shoulder and smiled like he knew what cesc had been looking at and thinking about. cesc firmly believed that there should only be so much cuteness in the world, and that damn it, he had the market, not that freckled freak. cesc grimaced and then stopped; he probably didn't look very attractive with his face screwed up like that. and--what? why would you move your legs like that? why was iker moving his legs like that? why wasn't he in the porn industry with flexibility like that?
cesc felt his face flame up and he decidedly looked away from the goal area where iker was stretching (torturing) him. he snapped at fernando, "what are you looking at?" fernando just grinned like he knew cesc was thinking about iker and porn. "nothin' man, nothin'."
birthdays. (pg-13; 610)
warning: and i still can't do sexy!
this was stupid. the lights were giving him a headache and he knew he was being a piss poor birthday boy. robin had picked him up and told him that he was going to have the night of his motherfucking life. he hadn't believed him 3 hours ago, and he certainly didn't believe him now.
he glanced around, idly noting that rosa was close to indecency, but no one was complaining. the czech did like to let loose, cesc conceded. a body slammed into his, jostling his arm, but he kept his drink from spilling which he considered the greatest victory of the evening.
"cesc! my little buddy! let's dance! move your spanish hips!"
cesc peered at his glass. oh look, twenty two and all he wanted was to be drunk off his face. "no." he didn't remember what was in his glass but it could probably use a refill.
nicklas decided that cesc was playing hard to get. "you enjoy dancing! and everyone's here for you!"
cesc knocked the liquid down his throat and decided the burn settling in his stomach felt good. "oh? everyone?" he turned to look at nicklas, and held out his glass. nicklas's composure fell a bit and his smile cracked and softened at the edges. "cesc--" nicklas began, but cesc just shoved the drink at nicklas. "just get me another, nicky."
except nicklas didn't move like he was supposed to. what the hell was this birthday shit? people drag him to this club he doesn't want to be at, people pester him all fucking night long, and the most important person isn't even here--and fuck.
"iker." cesc figured he must have spoken because he could feel his lips make the motion. but he wasn't quite keyed into that because right there in front of him surrounded by the thronging mass of people he didn't want to see tonight, was the one he had been most wanting to be around. his hair looked mussed, like he had been running his hands through it on the plane ride and he looked clothed in the tightest, hottest looking black shirt and denim jeans. there were arms, and hands and oh god, it was iker.
apparently ignoring cesc's brain malfunction; iker leaned against the wall, jutting his hip out and drawing cesc's eye. "so i hear you aren't very happy." he didn't wait for an answer. "that's pretty fucked. all your friends are here, apparently having themselves a good time, all trying to celebrate with you. but you're just sitting on your ass like a spoiled little prince who let the princess get away."
cesc held iker's gaze, but had to look away and chuckle a little--is that how he looked? "i don't feel like celebrating."
"oh?" an eyebrow raised and cesc felt the lift all the way to his dick. cesc licked his lips because suddenly his lips felt dry and his throat seemed like a desert--just looking at iker was more than he had imagined he would get tonight.
iker took some steps closer until his legs were touching cesc's, his face towering above. then he knelt down till he was on his knees and cesc figured he'd have to revise his earlier victory because not combusting when iker was in front of you on his fucking knees deserved a medal. iker licked his own lips--fucking gold medals, for sure. he leaned in until his mouth was hovering by cesc's cheek, near his ear, near that soft spot that iker really liked to tease with with tongue and teeth until cesc was begging please.
"i guess i'll have to help you feel like it."
smarts (pg-13; 302)
warning: i actually don't know if iker is a geek or has read lord of the rings--i haven't, much to my mother's and twin's dismay.
it was well known that iker was a dork. the capitan, and intimidating keeper with incredible skill--and a complete and utter geek. he had read the spanish translations of lord of the rings, and then again in english just because he wanted to "understand the nuances of language."
but what not everyone knew was that cesc thought iker was irrevocably and incredibly sexy when iker was in what he termed "geek mode." granted, cesc also thought iker was hot just for breathing every day. but sergio had agreed from the seat behind cesc and iker on the team bus. "you are, iker! you get this look where you're totally focused and seriously, cesc isn't just being weird; it's true." iker blushed with embarrassment, and cesc sunk lower in his seat while fernando hauled sergio back to his regular seated position.
iker had these glasses that were obviously of sturdy frames and made his face look incredibly intelligent. they were neither indicative of a time, a maker or fad; kind of like iker himself, cesc thought. iker wasn't a product of the known and practiced; he just was.
"cesc. stop... flailing." iker softly grumbled, interrupted cesc's thoughts.
"what?"
"you're like a jumpy ball of knives and you're rocking my knees to the book shakes and i'm getting to the good part; aragorn is about to give his speech. so, stop flailing."
cesc really hates how his body's general reaction to iker is to go all red and hot and hard because seriously, irate geek iker shouldn't be arousing. iker turns to him and gives him that look, the one that means 'i'm so fucking serious you best just wait for your shenanigans later.'
cesc leans his head against the cool glass of the window and sighs. it's gonna be a long ride.
words (pg; 239)
warning: wow. schmoop. i think my teeth rotted a little from writing such sweetness.
they sit side by side on the uncomfortable airport chairs. it's kind of silly; for a place that has people waiting around a lot the places sure don't provide comfortable seating. if anything it's like punishment for scheduling a flight that you didn't just get on time for. cesc thinks he should shut his mind up and stop thinking about stupid thoughts. the call for him to board comes and distracts him better than any mental yelling.
"so." iker says, which doesn't mean much, but the look he gives cesc tells cesc a whole lot more.
"yeah," cesc offers.
"land safe, please. and for god's sake, cesc, don't eat so many skittles. wenger'll throw a fit." iker is smiling though, that special little smile that cesc has realized is worth more than gold and definitely doesn't mean bad things.
cesc grins like an idiot. "you too. and i'll try." he hears the intercom and his grin falls. well, back to reality. cesc grips his bag and turns, giving a little wave with more levity than he really felt. iker is still grinning that special little smile when cesc turns the corner.
when cesc reaches into his pocket to turn off his phone, he realizes he got a text.
stay safe, baby. save your kisses for me. we'll be together sooner than you can realize we were ever apart. i love you. and would it kill you to smile, yeah?
end.
pairing: cesc fabregas/iker casillas
rating: pg-pg-13
words: 2025 total
alcohol (pg-13; 689)
warning: this is early in their relationship. they don't really know each other. and i don't know how to do sexy.
"so who's up for another round?" cesc asked the room at large. he still could keep his head up, and his eyes weren't lit only by copious amounts of alcohol--there was something indescribable about the little spaniard who went off to london that shone through in his eyes.
he could feel a difference in the room than when they started drinking a few hours ago. villa was still sitting off to the side, putting on that air that said 'i have a bitch face, don't make me use it' except now his constant companion, david silva, had given up faking indifference on the couch and was instead whimpering urgently as villa's hands teased in his shorts.
fernando had a lot to drink, but where that should have made him look drunk and undesirable, he still looked like he always did--freckled and fuckable. sergio, as usual, was counting each pigment mark with his tongue and teeth.
"i don't think they're interested anymore." cesc turned his eyes to the other person in the room. "i guess not," he conceded. he looked down at the bottle in his hands. "but there's still so much more left."
iker grinned, but not the one that he ever gave interviewers. there was a tilt to this one, a dangerous hidden edge that hinted but never pointed. "then come over here."
there was a shift in the atmosphere, something had changed in the hotel room. it was like electric charges were emanating and drowning him, making his limbs tingly and head heavy. cesc didn't remember thinking twice about getting up from his criss crossed seat in the middle of the room, but he did recall the magnetism that drew him over to the armchair that iker was sitting in. the light only shone partly on his face, outlining the stubble appearing on his face and neck but clouding his eyes so cesc could only see a bare hint of light reflected.
cesc realized that maybe he really should have rethought this. cesc was in front of iker, keeping a hold of the bottle and holding it in offering. his mind was saying things, but his mouth was stopped dry at the man in front of him. iker had that ability; he could just look and know. there wasn't anything definable, but iker was entrancing. cesc could feel himself blushing and his groin tightening; he tried to keep on track, but then he realized that he wasn't sure what the fucking track was, let alone where he had gotten off at.
he brought the bottle to his lips and let the liquid fall in, trying to focus on something other than the way iker was sprawled in the chair like he owned it and the way his legs were spread like an offering or invitation. because those thoughts didn't lead to anything good. cesc closed his eyes as he swallowed, but only seeing iker in his mind. when he opened them, iker had gotten up from the chair and was standing incredibly close to cesc. so close in fact that cesc could see that yes stubble was growing, but cesc could also distinctly make out iker's eyes. they were deep and magnetic, haunting in their beauty. cesc gave up trying to avoid his erection because he was getting hard and that was just the way it was.
iker took the bottle from cesc's limp hand and mimicked cesc's actions. cesc couldn't look away from iker's lips that were wet and full and incredibly tempting. he probably made a sound that would be embarrassing to explain; but iker doesn't call him on it. cesc feels like he missed a memo somewhere because he hasn't quite got all the pieces put together correctly.
the same grin appears on iker's face, causing cesc's toes to curl and his stomach to tighten. "thanks." and he walks away, out the door and presumably to his own hotel room.
it isn't until cesc breathes again without a hitch in his throat that he realizes he's painfully hard and could really use that alcohol that iker walked off with. oh, and that he's without a doubt fucked.
stretching (pg 185)
warning: goal keepers stretching is ridiculously hot. and their pants--wooh! or so cesc thinks.
it was distracting, cesc would admit that. other words came to mind; captivating, arousing holymotherfuckinghot. cesc cocked his head and realized that holymotherfuckinghot wasn't one word but then his eyes followed the leg motions of that keeper and holy fuck he forgot what he was thinking about--again.
fernando clapped him on the shoulder and smiled like he knew what cesc had been looking at and thinking about. cesc firmly believed that there should only be so much cuteness in the world, and that damn it, he had the market, not that freckled freak. cesc grimaced and then stopped; he probably didn't look very attractive with his face screwed up like that. and--what? why would you move your legs like that? why was iker moving his legs like that? why wasn't he in the porn industry with flexibility like that?
cesc felt his face flame up and he decidedly looked away from the goal area where iker was stretching (torturing) him. he snapped at fernando, "what are you looking at?" fernando just grinned like he knew cesc was thinking about iker and porn. "nothin' man, nothin'."
birthdays. (pg-13; 610)
warning: and i still can't do sexy!
this was stupid. the lights were giving him a headache and he knew he was being a piss poor birthday boy. robin had picked him up and told him that he was going to have the night of his motherfucking life. he hadn't believed him 3 hours ago, and he certainly didn't believe him now.
he glanced around, idly noting that rosa was close to indecency, but no one was complaining. the czech did like to let loose, cesc conceded. a body slammed into his, jostling his arm, but he kept his drink from spilling which he considered the greatest victory of the evening.
"cesc! my little buddy! let's dance! move your spanish hips!"
cesc peered at his glass. oh look, twenty two and all he wanted was to be drunk off his face. "no." he didn't remember what was in his glass but it could probably use a refill.
nicklas decided that cesc was playing hard to get. "you enjoy dancing! and everyone's here for you!"
cesc knocked the liquid down his throat and decided the burn settling in his stomach felt good. "oh? everyone?" he turned to look at nicklas, and held out his glass. nicklas's composure fell a bit and his smile cracked and softened at the edges. "cesc--" nicklas began, but cesc just shoved the drink at nicklas. "just get me another, nicky."
except nicklas didn't move like he was supposed to. what the hell was this birthday shit? people drag him to this club he doesn't want to be at, people pester him all fucking night long, and the most important person isn't even here--and fuck.
"iker." cesc figured he must have spoken because he could feel his lips make the motion. but he wasn't quite keyed into that because right there in front of him surrounded by the thronging mass of people he didn't want to see tonight, was the one he had been most wanting to be around. his hair looked mussed, like he had been running his hands through it on the plane ride and he looked clothed in the tightest, hottest looking black shirt and denim jeans. there were arms, and hands and oh god, it was iker.
apparently ignoring cesc's brain malfunction; iker leaned against the wall, jutting his hip out and drawing cesc's eye. "so i hear you aren't very happy." he didn't wait for an answer. "that's pretty fucked. all your friends are here, apparently having themselves a good time, all trying to celebrate with you. but you're just sitting on your ass like a spoiled little prince who let the princess get away."
cesc held iker's gaze, but had to look away and chuckle a little--is that how he looked? "i don't feel like celebrating."
"oh?" an eyebrow raised and cesc felt the lift all the way to his dick. cesc licked his lips because suddenly his lips felt dry and his throat seemed like a desert--just looking at iker was more than he had imagined he would get tonight.
iker took some steps closer until his legs were touching cesc's, his face towering above. then he knelt down till he was on his knees and cesc figured he'd have to revise his earlier victory because not combusting when iker was in front of you on his fucking knees deserved a medal. iker licked his own lips--fucking gold medals, for sure. he leaned in until his mouth was hovering by cesc's cheek, near his ear, near that soft spot that iker really liked to tease with with tongue and teeth until cesc was begging please.
"i guess i'll have to help you feel like it."
smarts (pg-13; 302)
warning: i actually don't know if iker is a geek or has read lord of the rings--i haven't, much to my mother's and twin's dismay.
it was well known that iker was a dork. the capitan, and intimidating keeper with incredible skill--and a complete and utter geek. he had read the spanish translations of lord of the rings, and then again in english just because he wanted to "understand the nuances of language."
but what not everyone knew was that cesc thought iker was irrevocably and incredibly sexy when iker was in what he termed "geek mode." granted, cesc also thought iker was hot just for breathing every day. but sergio had agreed from the seat behind cesc and iker on the team bus. "you are, iker! you get this look where you're totally focused and seriously, cesc isn't just being weird; it's true." iker blushed with embarrassment, and cesc sunk lower in his seat while fernando hauled sergio back to his regular seated position.
iker had these glasses that were obviously of sturdy frames and made his face look incredibly intelligent. they were neither indicative of a time, a maker or fad; kind of like iker himself, cesc thought. iker wasn't a product of the known and practiced; he just was.
"cesc. stop... flailing." iker softly grumbled, interrupted cesc's thoughts.
"what?"
"you're like a jumpy ball of knives and you're rocking my knees to the book shakes and i'm getting to the good part; aragorn is about to give his speech. so, stop flailing."
cesc really hates how his body's general reaction to iker is to go all red and hot and hard because seriously, irate geek iker shouldn't be arousing. iker turns to him and gives him that look, the one that means 'i'm so fucking serious you best just wait for your shenanigans later.'
cesc leans his head against the cool glass of the window and sighs. it's gonna be a long ride.
words (pg; 239)
warning: wow. schmoop. i think my teeth rotted a little from writing such sweetness.
they sit side by side on the uncomfortable airport chairs. it's kind of silly; for a place that has people waiting around a lot the places sure don't provide comfortable seating. if anything it's like punishment for scheduling a flight that you didn't just get on time for. cesc thinks he should shut his mind up and stop thinking about stupid thoughts. the call for him to board comes and distracts him better than any mental yelling.
"so." iker says, which doesn't mean much, but the look he gives cesc tells cesc a whole lot more.
"yeah," cesc offers.
"land safe, please. and for god's sake, cesc, don't eat so many skittles. wenger'll throw a fit." iker is smiling though, that special little smile that cesc has realized is worth more than gold and definitely doesn't mean bad things.
cesc grins like an idiot. "you too. and i'll try." he hears the intercom and his grin falls. well, back to reality. cesc grips his bag and turns, giving a little wave with more levity than he really felt. iker is still grinning that special little smile when cesc turns the corner.
when cesc reaches into his pocket to turn off his phone, he realizes he got a text.
stay safe, baby. save your kisses for me. we'll be together sooner than you can realize we were ever apart. i love you. and would it kill you to smile, yeah?
end.