Footy fic rec!
Ladies and fangirls, it is my pleasure to bring you 250 words of tough!love, inspired by this week's Blackburn v. Chelsea match. JK/BO, rated R. Enjoy!
AN: This was actually written by my LJ-less colleague and partner-in-crime, whose constant whining shameless begging gentle suggestions prompted me to start writing about these lads in the first place. It is posted here with her permission, and all comments/squees/flail-related medical bills will be forwarded to her directly.
Son of AN: Westchester United's keeper's name is Carlo Romano. Just FYI.
Billy can’t remember a harder-fought victory. He’s in the box when the final whistle sounds and the first to congratulate Carlo on the inspiring penalty save. The ecstatic ’keeper ruffles his hair before disappearing beneath a mash of teammates, and Billy turns toward the tunnel past another laughing jumble of players. Suddenly a strong arm flashes from the tangle, seizes a fistful of Billy’s jersey, and hauls him into a crushing embrace, and for a terrifying, exhilarating moment Billy thinks Jamie is going to kiss him right there on the pitch in front of everyone. Instead he buries his face in Billy’s neck, holding on like he would crawl into Billy’s skin if it weren’t for the clothes between them. Billy’s knees start to buckle and he struggles to remember that they’re in the middle of a crowded stadium, but somehow he manages to keep his feet and steer Jamie off the pitch.
After a cold shower Billy’s beginning to feel more exhausted than euphoric, but Jamie’s smile as they leave the stadium jolts his pulse straight back to match speed. They’re fortunate to escape a ticket for a frenzied drive home, then finally they’re inside and Jamie’s mouth is pressing against him hard enough to bruise. Billy claws at maddening layers of fabric as they stumble down the hall, fingers tangling roughly in Jamie’s curls, and even the inevitable fall doesn’t loosen his grip.
They’ll both be marked in the morning, but it’s easy enough to blame the game.
AN: This was actually written by my LJ-less colleague and partner-in-crime, whose constant whining shameless begging gentle suggestions prompted me to start writing about these lads in the first place. It is posted here with her permission, and all comments/squees/flail-related medical bills will be forwarded to her directly.
Son of AN: Westchester United's keeper's name is Carlo Romano. Just FYI.
Billy can’t remember a harder-fought victory. He’s in the box when the final whistle sounds and the first to congratulate Carlo on the inspiring penalty save. The ecstatic ’keeper ruffles his hair before disappearing beneath a mash of teammates, and Billy turns toward the tunnel past another laughing jumble of players. Suddenly a strong arm flashes from the tangle, seizes a fistful of Billy’s jersey, and hauls him into a crushing embrace, and for a terrifying, exhilarating moment Billy thinks Jamie is going to kiss him right there on the pitch in front of everyone. Instead he buries his face in Billy’s neck, holding on like he would crawl into Billy’s skin if it weren’t for the clothes between them. Billy’s knees start to buckle and he struggles to remember that they’re in the middle of a crowded stadium, but somehow he manages to keep his feet and steer Jamie off the pitch.
After a cold shower Billy’s beginning to feel more exhausted than euphoric, but Jamie’s smile as they leave the stadium jolts his pulse straight back to match speed. They’re fortunate to escape a ticket for a frenzied drive home, then finally they’re inside and Jamie’s mouth is pressing against him hard enough to bruise. Billy claws at maddening layers of fabric as they stumble down the hall, fingers tangling roughly in Jamie’s curls, and even the inevitable fall doesn’t loosen his grip.
They’ll both be marked in the morning, but it’s easy enough to blame the game.