foot: hunger has not behaved
title: hunger has not behaved: a corrolary
pairing: sergio ramos/fernando torres, iker casillas/sergio ramos
rated: r
As devout as Fernando is to the faith, he never once entertained thoughts of joining the cloth. There has never been an interest in learning or shepherding. His understanding has never struggled for some immediate, deeper truth, and his knowledge of guiding people through problems is painfully limited. This does not explain how he’s come to stand as an all access confession booth to his friends, Sergio Ramos in particular. Yet Sergio is here confiding, as he always does, on how good Iker’s cock is and how Iker is stubbornly withholding said cock from him.
Privately, Fernando believes they are both oversexed. More importantly, he’s not sure what Sergio wants from him. A sympathetic ear? Not likely because the last thing Fernando feels is sympathy, not when his girlfriend is flirting with chastity after a small scare. Someone to commiserate with? Possibly, but Fernando doesn’t have that type of experience, and he blushes a little when his mind follows behind Sergio’s lavish descriptions, giving picture to one of his worst adversaries cloaked in white who has, Sergio is quick to point out, a fabulous cock.
Sergio complains all the time while they are together, still under twenty-one and rooming when they have the chance. He goes on and on about how he’s hard all the time, how he’s so quick to come now, frustrated, how he licks his mouth and tastes Iker’s come even now.
Fernando flushes harder. He searches for the words to shut Sergio up because these are thoughts he should not entertain, words he should never hear, and the next time he and Iker meet he’ll have to remind himself to keep his eyes up.
“And the last time,” Sergio says, legs spreading across the cheap bedspread. “Oh my god, Nino, the last time he let me try it. He just sat there and watched me try to sit on his dick. It was so fucking crazy, I thought I was going to die when I felt him there.” Sergio sighs, devastated. “And I just had to get my mouth on him instead. He tastes. God, it’s like he’s still on my lips.”
More than a little hard and annoyed, Fernando rolls over and licks Sergio’s dirty mouth. It turns into a kiss, long and tongues twisting in lazy spirals, Fernando licking everywhere, and they pull apart. Fernando frowns.
“I don’t taste him.”
Sergio stares mouth open, eyes wide. “You,” he struggles then wraps a hand around Fernando’s shirt and tugs him into another kiss.
Kisses fall from one to another until they’re grunting into each other’s mouths. Hands scramble for buttons and the edges of shirts, tugging and pulling until they’re mostly undressed, cocks burning together between their stomachs. Fernando ruts against Sergio as if he is still a teenager just new to his sexual identity. Awakened.
Between messy kisses, Sergio talks. Then Sergio’s words filter through the harsh pants and his own embarrassing whimpers when Sergio wraps a hand around his cock, filthy words rolling from the tongue. Sergio talks, of course he does, Fernando thinks, dazed. What else would Sergio do with such a talented mouth? The sudden flood of images makes Fernando’s eyes cross and his hips jerk down.
“He does it like this,” Sergio says. It doesn’t matter that Fernando isn’t quite sure what “it” is or where “this” comes into play. All he knows is Sergio’s hand is clutching their dicks together and stroking out more shameless noises from his mouth. “He just. And then he teases me with just. Not even what I want but it feels so good.”
Fernando gasps, eyes flying open at the touch that turns to stroking which in turn to probing caresses. His elbow buckles and he buries his face into Sergio’s neck, sucking the salt from his skin, painting curses there with his tongue. How does Sergio do this to him? Every time turn him into someone he’s not, places him in a roll he’s unaccustomed and makes him enjoy it.
“And he won’t give it to me.”
A thumb brushes the underside of Fernando’s cock after a brutal squeezing jerk and Fernando comes between them.
“Oh. You are so, so,” Sergio sighs and pulls him down into another kiss.
Fernando doesn’t find out what he is because seconds later Sergio is pulsing hot between them and the next they’re lazing around in soft kisses while Sergio soothes the underwhelming panic simmering under Fernando’s skin.
When Fernando wakes an hour later, sticky and hungry and not nearly ashamed enough, Sergio is sitting at the top of the bed with a slight frown. Fernando nuzzles up to his hip and cups his knee in what he hopes is a friendly fashion devoid of their present nudity.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
Sergio turns thoughtful eyes to him. “Do you want Iker to fuck you too?”
Fernando’s mouth drops open. “No,” he sputters and follows the denial with a pillow to Sergio’s face. He tackles him to the bed and holds it there, withstanding each kick and a slaps to his back while he smothers the thought from Sergio’s head then let’s Sergio smother them from his own.
:: 850
pairing: sergio ramos/fernando torres, iker casillas/sergio ramos
rated: r
As devout as Fernando is to the faith, he never once entertained thoughts of joining the cloth. There has never been an interest in learning or shepherding. His understanding has never struggled for some immediate, deeper truth, and his knowledge of guiding people through problems is painfully limited. This does not explain how he’s come to stand as an all access confession booth to his friends, Sergio Ramos in particular. Yet Sergio is here confiding, as he always does, on how good Iker’s cock is and how Iker is stubbornly withholding said cock from him.
Privately, Fernando believes they are both oversexed. More importantly, he’s not sure what Sergio wants from him. A sympathetic ear? Not likely because the last thing Fernando feels is sympathy, not when his girlfriend is flirting with chastity after a small scare. Someone to commiserate with? Possibly, but Fernando doesn’t have that type of experience, and he blushes a little when his mind follows behind Sergio’s lavish descriptions, giving picture to one of his worst adversaries cloaked in white who has, Sergio is quick to point out, a fabulous cock.
Sergio complains all the time while they are together, still under twenty-one and rooming when they have the chance. He goes on and on about how he’s hard all the time, how he’s so quick to come now, frustrated, how he licks his mouth and tastes Iker’s come even now.
Fernando flushes harder. He searches for the words to shut Sergio up because these are thoughts he should not entertain, words he should never hear, and the next time he and Iker meet he’ll have to remind himself to keep his eyes up.
“And the last time,” Sergio says, legs spreading across the cheap bedspread. “Oh my god, Nino, the last time he let me try it. He just sat there and watched me try to sit on his dick. It was so fucking crazy, I thought I was going to die when I felt him there.” Sergio sighs, devastated. “And I just had to get my mouth on him instead. He tastes. God, it’s like he’s still on my lips.”
More than a little hard and annoyed, Fernando rolls over and licks Sergio’s dirty mouth. It turns into a kiss, long and tongues twisting in lazy spirals, Fernando licking everywhere, and they pull apart. Fernando frowns.
“I don’t taste him.”
Sergio stares mouth open, eyes wide. “You,” he struggles then wraps a hand around Fernando’s shirt and tugs him into another kiss.
Kisses fall from one to another until they’re grunting into each other’s mouths. Hands scramble for buttons and the edges of shirts, tugging and pulling until they’re mostly undressed, cocks burning together between their stomachs. Fernando ruts against Sergio as if he is still a teenager just new to his sexual identity. Awakened.
Between messy kisses, Sergio talks. Then Sergio’s words filter through the harsh pants and his own embarrassing whimpers when Sergio wraps a hand around his cock, filthy words rolling from the tongue. Sergio talks, of course he does, Fernando thinks, dazed. What else would Sergio do with such a talented mouth? The sudden flood of images makes Fernando’s eyes cross and his hips jerk down.
“He does it like this,” Sergio says. It doesn’t matter that Fernando isn’t quite sure what “it” is or where “this” comes into play. All he knows is Sergio’s hand is clutching their dicks together and stroking out more shameless noises from his mouth. “He just. And then he teases me with just. Not even what I want but it feels so good.”
Fernando gasps, eyes flying open at the touch that turns to stroking which in turn to probing caresses. His elbow buckles and he buries his face into Sergio’s neck, sucking the salt from his skin, painting curses there with his tongue. How does Sergio do this to him? Every time turn him into someone he’s not, places him in a roll he’s unaccustomed and makes him enjoy it.
“And he won’t give it to me.”
A thumb brushes the underside of Fernando’s cock after a brutal squeezing jerk and Fernando comes between them.
“Oh. You are so, so,” Sergio sighs and pulls him down into another kiss.
Fernando doesn’t find out what he is because seconds later Sergio is pulsing hot between them and the next they’re lazing around in soft kisses while Sergio soothes the underwhelming panic simmering under Fernando’s skin.
When Fernando wakes an hour later, sticky and hungry and not nearly ashamed enough, Sergio is sitting at the top of the bed with a slight frown. Fernando nuzzles up to his hip and cups his knee in what he hopes is a friendly fashion devoid of their present nudity.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
Sergio turns thoughtful eyes to him. “Do you want Iker to fuck you too?”
Fernando’s mouth drops open. “No,” he sputters and follows the denial with a pillow to Sergio’s face. He tackles him to the bed and holds it there, withstanding each kick and a slaps to his back while he smothers the thought from Sergio’s head then let’s Sergio smother them from his own.
:: 850