Nano day 4
Title: 3 Ways Alberto and Adrian Knew Each Other [AU]
Pairing: Alberto Gilardino/Adrian Mutu
Rating; G-R (nothing explicit)
Word Count: 1588
Disclaimer: I made this up, this isn't true
Summary: 3 different ways they might have met.
I could use somebody
Adrian had been awake for some time now. The clock read a little after 4 am and Adrian had a feeling he wasn't going to be falling back asleep anytime soon. Alberto was on the other side of the bed, stretched out. The sheets were barely up to his ass and wrapped tightly around him, leaving his back exposed to Adrian. It wasn't hard to miss the brusies that lined it and Adrian knew those weren't from him (no his were the ones that dotted Alberto's hips, the ones Adrian presses his lips to afterward).
Adrian swore, reaching for his cigarettes. Only two left and he pulled one out, lighting it. Alberto hated the smoke but he let it happen. Adrian thought about cracking open the window to let the smoke out but the room as cold enough without it. Adrian lay back, letting the smoke drift up and he tucked an arm behind his head. He should leave soon. Doesn't want to be here when Alberto wakes. Adrian hates staying but it's becoming more common then not and he doesn't know how that happens.
(Barely remembers how it started, just a quick fuck was all that it was supposed to be but he went back a week later. Then it was twice a week. Now sometimes it's nearly every night and he tries to pay still but sometimes Alberto slips the money back into his wallet. "This is more than just you fucking me Adrian. I want you, I don't want any of them that smile at me and call me other names." Adrian doesn't know what to say to that anymore so he slips the money into the coffee can Alberto keeps hidden in his closet, counting out a few extra notes.)
Adrian tells himself he doesn't care. It's just sex. That's what it's always been. Or so he tries to tell himself. They don't always fuck anymore. Adrian lets Alberto rest his head on his shoulder as they watch American movies with subtitles and Adrian lets Alberto kiss him softly, slowly, like it's a fucking relationship. That scares the shit out of Adrian. Terrifies him. He laughs to himself, blowing out another puff of smoke and sighs. All Adrian wanted was a nice ass and someone who wouldn't ask questions. Look at what he got instead.
(Adrian pretends not to care because it's easier that way. It's easier not noticing the school books that lie in the room or the university bills that pile up on Alberto's table. Pretends that the money goes elsewhere, the Alberto isn't out on the streets getting fucked by God knows who just so he can pay his way through classes.)
Adrian likes to tell himself that it's okay Alberto is out every night he's not with Adrian. That those black eyes and bruised jaw come from a bar fight and not some drugged up asshole who gets a little too possessive and violent with Alberto. Adrian pretends that he's not angry with he thinks about that even though he wants to hunt them down. Maybe that's why he spends all his time here anymore. He's not on drugs (not anymore, knows better now, lesson learned), he's safe with Alberto, and he's not going to do anything to fuck him over in the future. So maybe he doesn't want Alberto to get a disease, that doesn't mean it's love.
Adrian stubs the cigarette out, rolling to his side. He lays a hand out, running it down the length of Alberto's back. It doesn't wake the other man but he moves around, almost like a newborn kitten searching for his mother, and he finds Adrian, almost instinctively latching onto him. Head shoved under Adrian's jaw, hands clutching at Adrian's shirt. Adrian lets his hand rest on Alberto's back and he lets his lips press to the top of Alberto's head, tugging the blankets a little tighter around them. Alberto sighs and Adrian waits for the sun to come up .
-
Things Not Forgotten
"Well isn't this a pleasant surprise."
Alberto looks up from his book to see Adrian Mutu standing in the aisle of the train. Alberto gapes, because what are the odds? Adrian is grinning, the same shit eating grin from years ago when they were both young and stupid, playing for Verona. Alberto marks his spot in the book, tucking it away and Adrian moves forward, and gestures to the seat next to Alberto.
"Is it taken?"
Alberto looks around the train, bare save for a handful of other passengers (a mother and child, an elderly man with his evening paper) and Alberto shakes his head and Adrian sits, or rather flops down, legs spread out and nearly knocking into Alberto's, taking up more than half the space. Alberto is reminded of many trips with both Verona and Parma, long trips halfway across the country and Adrian used to do the same thing despite being shorter then Alberto.
"So, how's football?" Alberto asks and Adrian laughs, throwing his head back and he looks at Alberto like he's an idiot and fine, it is a stupid thing to ask.
"Alberto we play in the same damn league, I am pretty sure you know how it's going. God you are still awkward."
"I'm pretty sure that isn't a compliment."
"It's not but don't worry, you're still all right."
This time it's Alberto's turn to laugh and mutter "thanks." Adrian moves some more, his elbow jabbing into Alberto and Alberto glares but Adrian ignores it, tugging his cap down a little more and Alberto is close to threatening Adrian if he falls asleep. He doesn't want to find Adrian's mouth half open and breathing on Alberto any time soon.
The railway worker comes to check tickets and they both hand theirs out at the same time and the guy notices them but doesn't say anything, though his eyebrow goes up just a bit like he recognizes them. He hands the tickets back without saying a word and moves. How strange it must look, two players from rival teams sharing a train ride. What stories the newspapers would conjure up if only they knew.
(Neither ask why they are on the train, why Alberto is going to Turin or why Adrian was in Milan. They are not friends, not really, and asking that just might imply that they are.)
It’s strange how the conversation flows, as if they are friends. They avoid football and talk about things like politics (different views perhaps, but they agree to disagree) and menial things like the last movie they saw (the same one, ironically enough). The ride is over before it even started and Alberto is off at the stop before Turin. Adrian turns to him in surprise and for a moment Alberto would mistake it for disappointment. They don’t hug (too friendly) nor shake hands (too formal) but instead give each other an awkward pat and Alberto is out, grabbing his things.
“Hey, good luck with the whole scoring thing, you know?” Adrian say it half joking, but there is part of him that isn’t. He knows the record at Parma. He’s seen those goals firsthand. Maybe part of him still wishes Alberto well.
Alberto rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth quirking up, “Thanks, I’ll try. If you know, I play.”
Alberto is off the train and into the parking lot where Alice is waiting for him. He turns to look at the train but it’s already gone, heading into the city. Alberto turns back, laughing to himself and makes his way to the car.
-
Working Hard for the Money
Adrian hates his job. He really, really hates his job. He is tired of the busty blonde downstairs who can’t keep her tits in her shirt when he walks in (it was fun for while and sure he got sex out of it but that is enough). He’s tired of the same old crap that comes through (menial court cases that deal with stupid kids stealing). He wants to quit but he can’t afford it right now.
The only thing that keeps him from going insane is the receptionist, Alberto.
Okay, okay, he kind of hates himself for it. Alberto is clingy. Adrian is pretty sure that Alberto thinks they are dating. Which, by the way, they aren’t. It’s sex. It’s sex on Adrian’s desk, Alberto’s nails digging into the wood, his tie stuffed into his mouth to keep from making any noise. It’s Alberto sucking Adrian off in the toilets during their Christmas party while someone else is in there. It’s…okay so they have sex often.
And maybe Adrian shouldn’t lead Alberto on by taking him to nice restaurants or letting him sleep over (he’s started keeping his things at Adrian’s place and Adrian is half tempted to throw them out). He can’t help it, he’s like everyone else in the damn office who is swayed by Alberto looking half scared, half worried all. The. Time. (Adrian could really use a drink right about now).
He walks past reception, making a gesture in Alberto’s direction to signal hello and he tries to avoid any eye contact at all. He’ll wait 15 minutes before he knows Alberto will be knocking on the door, pretending to give some important memo when anyone walks by. Adrian will close the door, pulling Alberto by his tie and push him down to his knees. After all, there is nothing like a blow job first thing in the morning to get through the day.
Pairing: Alberto Gilardino/Adrian Mutu
Rating; G-R (nothing explicit)
Word Count: 1588
Disclaimer: I made this up, this isn't true
Summary: 3 different ways they might have met.
I could use somebody
Adrian had been awake for some time now. The clock read a little after 4 am and Adrian had a feeling he wasn't going to be falling back asleep anytime soon. Alberto was on the other side of the bed, stretched out. The sheets were barely up to his ass and wrapped tightly around him, leaving his back exposed to Adrian. It wasn't hard to miss the brusies that lined it and Adrian knew those weren't from him (no his were the ones that dotted Alberto's hips, the ones Adrian presses his lips to afterward).
Adrian swore, reaching for his cigarettes. Only two left and he pulled one out, lighting it. Alberto hated the smoke but he let it happen. Adrian thought about cracking open the window to let the smoke out but the room as cold enough without it. Adrian lay back, letting the smoke drift up and he tucked an arm behind his head. He should leave soon. Doesn't want to be here when Alberto wakes. Adrian hates staying but it's becoming more common then not and he doesn't know how that happens.
(Barely remembers how it started, just a quick fuck was all that it was supposed to be but he went back a week later. Then it was twice a week. Now sometimes it's nearly every night and he tries to pay still but sometimes Alberto slips the money back into his wallet. "This is more than just you fucking me Adrian. I want you, I don't want any of them that smile at me and call me other names." Adrian doesn't know what to say to that anymore so he slips the money into the coffee can Alberto keeps hidden in his closet, counting out a few extra notes.)
Adrian tells himself he doesn't care. It's just sex. That's what it's always been. Or so he tries to tell himself. They don't always fuck anymore. Adrian lets Alberto rest his head on his shoulder as they watch American movies with subtitles and Adrian lets Alberto kiss him softly, slowly, like it's a fucking relationship. That scares the shit out of Adrian. Terrifies him. He laughs to himself, blowing out another puff of smoke and sighs. All Adrian wanted was a nice ass and someone who wouldn't ask questions. Look at what he got instead.
(Adrian pretends not to care because it's easier that way. It's easier not noticing the school books that lie in the room or the university bills that pile up on Alberto's table. Pretends that the money goes elsewhere, the Alberto isn't out on the streets getting fucked by God knows who just so he can pay his way through classes.)
Adrian likes to tell himself that it's okay Alberto is out every night he's not with Adrian. That those black eyes and bruised jaw come from a bar fight and not some drugged up asshole who gets a little too possessive and violent with Alberto. Adrian pretends that he's not angry with he thinks about that even though he wants to hunt them down. Maybe that's why he spends all his time here anymore. He's not on drugs (not anymore, knows better now, lesson learned), he's safe with Alberto, and he's not going to do anything to fuck him over in the future. So maybe he doesn't want Alberto to get a disease, that doesn't mean it's love.
Adrian stubs the cigarette out, rolling to his side. He lays a hand out, running it down the length of Alberto's back. It doesn't wake the other man but he moves around, almost like a newborn kitten searching for his mother, and he finds Adrian, almost instinctively latching onto him. Head shoved under Adrian's jaw, hands clutching at Adrian's shirt. Adrian lets his hand rest on Alberto's back and he lets his lips press to the top of Alberto's head, tugging the blankets a little tighter around them. Alberto sighs and Adrian waits for the sun to come up .
-
Things Not Forgotten
"Well isn't this a pleasant surprise."
Alberto looks up from his book to see Adrian Mutu standing in the aisle of the train. Alberto gapes, because what are the odds? Adrian is grinning, the same shit eating grin from years ago when they were both young and stupid, playing for Verona. Alberto marks his spot in the book, tucking it away and Adrian moves forward, and gestures to the seat next to Alberto.
"Is it taken?"
Alberto looks around the train, bare save for a handful of other passengers (a mother and child, an elderly man with his evening paper) and Alberto shakes his head and Adrian sits, or rather flops down, legs spread out and nearly knocking into Alberto's, taking up more than half the space. Alberto is reminded of many trips with both Verona and Parma, long trips halfway across the country and Adrian used to do the same thing despite being shorter then Alberto.
"So, how's football?" Alberto asks and Adrian laughs, throwing his head back and he looks at Alberto like he's an idiot and fine, it is a stupid thing to ask.
"Alberto we play in the same damn league, I am pretty sure you know how it's going. God you are still awkward."
"I'm pretty sure that isn't a compliment."
"It's not but don't worry, you're still all right."
This time it's Alberto's turn to laugh and mutter "thanks." Adrian moves some more, his elbow jabbing into Alberto and Alberto glares but Adrian ignores it, tugging his cap down a little more and Alberto is close to threatening Adrian if he falls asleep. He doesn't want to find Adrian's mouth half open and breathing on Alberto any time soon.
The railway worker comes to check tickets and they both hand theirs out at the same time and the guy notices them but doesn't say anything, though his eyebrow goes up just a bit like he recognizes them. He hands the tickets back without saying a word and moves. How strange it must look, two players from rival teams sharing a train ride. What stories the newspapers would conjure up if only they knew.
(Neither ask why they are on the train, why Alberto is going to Turin or why Adrian was in Milan. They are not friends, not really, and asking that just might imply that they are.)
It’s strange how the conversation flows, as if they are friends. They avoid football and talk about things like politics (different views perhaps, but they agree to disagree) and menial things like the last movie they saw (the same one, ironically enough). The ride is over before it even started and Alberto is off at the stop before Turin. Adrian turns to him in surprise and for a moment Alberto would mistake it for disappointment. They don’t hug (too friendly) nor shake hands (too formal) but instead give each other an awkward pat and Alberto is out, grabbing his things.
“Hey, good luck with the whole scoring thing, you know?” Adrian say it half joking, but there is part of him that isn’t. He knows the record at Parma. He’s seen those goals firsthand. Maybe part of him still wishes Alberto well.
Alberto rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth quirking up, “Thanks, I’ll try. If you know, I play.”
Alberto is off the train and into the parking lot where Alice is waiting for him. He turns to look at the train but it’s already gone, heading into the city. Alberto turns back, laughing to himself and makes his way to the car.
-
Working Hard for the Money
Adrian hates his job. He really, really hates his job. He is tired of the busty blonde downstairs who can’t keep her tits in her shirt when he walks in (it was fun for while and sure he got sex out of it but that is enough). He’s tired of the same old crap that comes through (menial court cases that deal with stupid kids stealing). He wants to quit but he can’t afford it right now.
The only thing that keeps him from going insane is the receptionist, Alberto.
Okay, okay, he kind of hates himself for it. Alberto is clingy. Adrian is pretty sure that Alberto thinks they are dating. Which, by the way, they aren’t. It’s sex. It’s sex on Adrian’s desk, Alberto’s nails digging into the wood, his tie stuffed into his mouth to keep from making any noise. It’s Alberto sucking Adrian off in the toilets during their Christmas party while someone else is in there. It’s…okay so they have sex often.
And maybe Adrian shouldn’t lead Alberto on by taking him to nice restaurants or letting him sleep over (he’s started keeping his things at Adrian’s place and Adrian is half tempted to throw them out). He can’t help it, he’s like everyone else in the damn office who is swayed by Alberto looking half scared, half worried all. The. Time. (Adrian could really use a drink right about now).
He walks past reception, making a gesture in Alberto’s direction to signal hello and he tries to avoid any eye contact at all. He’ll wait 15 minutes before he knows Alberto will be knocking on the door, pretending to give some important memo when anyone walks by. Adrian will close the door, pulling Alberto by his tie and push him down to his knees. After all, there is nothing like a blow job first thing in the morning to get through the day.