open your eyes (ronaldo/coentrao)
title: open your eyes
characters/pairing: Cristiano Ronaldo/Fábio Coentrao
rating: pg-13
word count: 730
summary: Cristiano is all hands-on and Fábio is oblivious. Written for aeris444 who requested something based on these gifs.
It’s Cristiano being Cristiano, Fábio tells himself and tries to play it cool, especially since there’s a microphone shoved in his face. Cristiano is still on a natural victory high and even without alcohol generally behaves like a spoilt 5 year-old gagging for attention. Fábio lets him touch just a little too much, ignore personal space, and treats him mostly like an adult would a child: with patience and a hint of veiled amusement.
It’s hard, though: Cristiano’s thigh pressed up against his, Cristiano’s arm a heavy weight around his shoulders, Cristiano’s breath ghosting over his neck and cheek. It’s exquisite torture Cristiano doesn’t seem to be aware of. He’s goofing around, making faces when Fábio is trying to collect his thoughts in front of the camera, smoothes Fábio’s hair, knowing full well no one would dare do the same to his. Fábio tries to react as little as possible, just ruffles his own hair and tries to concentrate on the camera. It’s hard, when all he really wants to do is turn around and press Cristiano hard into the window of the bus, covering his tantalizing body with his own.
Fábio knows that will never happen. And it’s ok. Really. After all, Cristiano is Cristiano and he’s... well... He doesn’t mind. Honestly. But Cristiano isn’t making it easy to forget this inconvenient crush Fábio’s had for longer than he cares to remember. And the night just keeps dragging on.
Some end up going to Sergio’s, unwilling to let their night of victory end just yet, but Fábio declines with an apologetic smile. He’s tired. Tired of those small shivers running down his spine every time Cristiano whispers something to him, grinning lips brushing against the shell of his ear.
“Come on, I’ll give you a lift,” Cristiano says suddenly. It’s not a question, nor an offer, it’s a command that even makes sense. He’s sober, Fábio not so much.
They don’t speak during the ride - the quiet aftermath finally catching up with them. When the car stops Fábio gives Cristiano a small smile by way of goodnight that isn’t returned.
“I’m coming up with you,” Cristiano says. Fábio shrugs and doesn’t question why. Maybe Cristiano wants a glass of water, or needs to use the bathroom - he doesn’t think it could be anything else. But once he’s let them in the house Cristiano just keeps standing in the door, watching him quietly. It makes Fábio nervous.
“You know where the bathroom is if you...” Fábio trails off, shifts awkwardly from one leg to the other.
“What else do I need to do?” Cristiano suddenly asks, fingers fidgeting with his car keys, the only sign he has something on his mind. Fábio frowns in confusion.
“Is this about beating Messi?” he asks cautiously because it’s the only thing he can think of. “Because if it is, well, you know... fuck Messi, you’ve won us the league...”
“We won the league... all of us together,” Cristiano says and then lets out a chuckle, almost as if he was imagining hearing himself say that to the cameras, confusing the fuck out of the media, jarring their image of him. “But no... that’s not what I mean...”
“Right...” Fábio nods uncertainly. “Then...”
“Tell me what I have to do to make you see...”
Fábio frowns, completely missing the point.
“See what?”
Cristiano shakes his head in disbelieve. Then a small smile appears on his face - one that not many get to see, one that lacks his usual cocky confidence.
“That right now there’s nothing I want more than to fuck you across that really rather ugly dining table you bought.”
Fábio blinks. He licks his dry lips, then blinks again, and says the first thing that comes to his mind.
“It was expensive, though.”
Cristiano bursts out laughing and strides over to Fábio, pulls him close and crashes their mouths together. For a few moments Fábio is too shocked to react but Cristiano’s patient insistence makes him finally give into the sensations. It takes his mind a few moments to catch up but when it does he grins and completely forgets himself in the kiss.
It’s Cristiano who pulls away first and Fábio instinctively tightens his hold on him and then flushes with embarrassment. But Cristiano just smiles, cups Fábio’s face and places another kiss on his lips.
“Easy. I’m not going anywhere.”
characters/pairing: Cristiano Ronaldo/Fábio Coentrao
rating: pg-13
word count: 730
summary: Cristiano is all hands-on and Fábio is oblivious. Written for aeris444 who requested something based on these gifs.
It’s Cristiano being Cristiano, Fábio tells himself and tries to play it cool, especially since there’s a microphone shoved in his face. Cristiano is still on a natural victory high and even without alcohol generally behaves like a spoilt 5 year-old gagging for attention. Fábio lets him touch just a little too much, ignore personal space, and treats him mostly like an adult would a child: with patience and a hint of veiled amusement.
It’s hard, though: Cristiano’s thigh pressed up against his, Cristiano’s arm a heavy weight around his shoulders, Cristiano’s breath ghosting over his neck and cheek. It’s exquisite torture Cristiano doesn’t seem to be aware of. He’s goofing around, making faces when Fábio is trying to collect his thoughts in front of the camera, smoothes Fábio’s hair, knowing full well no one would dare do the same to his. Fábio tries to react as little as possible, just ruffles his own hair and tries to concentrate on the camera. It’s hard, when all he really wants to do is turn around and press Cristiano hard into the window of the bus, covering his tantalizing body with his own.
Fábio knows that will never happen. And it’s ok. Really. After all, Cristiano is Cristiano and he’s... well... He doesn’t mind. Honestly. But Cristiano isn’t making it easy to forget this inconvenient crush Fábio’s had for longer than he cares to remember. And the night just keeps dragging on.
Some end up going to Sergio’s, unwilling to let their night of victory end just yet, but Fábio declines with an apologetic smile. He’s tired. Tired of those small shivers running down his spine every time Cristiano whispers something to him, grinning lips brushing against the shell of his ear.
“Come on, I’ll give you a lift,” Cristiano says suddenly. It’s not a question, nor an offer, it’s a command that even makes sense. He’s sober, Fábio not so much.
They don’t speak during the ride - the quiet aftermath finally catching up with them. When the car stops Fábio gives Cristiano a small smile by way of goodnight that isn’t returned.
“I’m coming up with you,” Cristiano says. Fábio shrugs and doesn’t question why. Maybe Cristiano wants a glass of water, or needs to use the bathroom - he doesn’t think it could be anything else. But once he’s let them in the house Cristiano just keeps standing in the door, watching him quietly. It makes Fábio nervous.
“You know where the bathroom is if you...” Fábio trails off, shifts awkwardly from one leg to the other.
“What else do I need to do?” Cristiano suddenly asks, fingers fidgeting with his car keys, the only sign he has something on his mind. Fábio frowns in confusion.
“Is this about beating Messi?” he asks cautiously because it’s the only thing he can think of. “Because if it is, well, you know... fuck Messi, you’ve won us the league...”
“We won the league... all of us together,” Cristiano says and then lets out a chuckle, almost as if he was imagining hearing himself say that to the cameras, confusing the fuck out of the media, jarring their image of him. “But no... that’s not what I mean...”
“Right...” Fábio nods uncertainly. “Then...”
“Tell me what I have to do to make you see...”
Fábio frowns, completely missing the point.
“See what?”
Cristiano shakes his head in disbelieve. Then a small smile appears on his face - one that not many get to see, one that lacks his usual cocky confidence.
“That right now there’s nothing I want more than to fuck you across that really rather ugly dining table you bought.”
Fábio blinks. He licks his dry lips, then blinks again, and says the first thing that comes to his mind.
“It was expensive, though.”
Cristiano bursts out laughing and strides over to Fábio, pulls him close and crashes their mouths together. For a few moments Fábio is too shocked to react but Cristiano’s patient insistence makes him finally give into the sensations. It takes his mind a few moments to catch up but when it does he grins and completely forgets himself in the kiss.
It’s Cristiano who pulls away first and Fábio instinctively tightens his hold on him and then flushes with embarrassment. But Cristiano just smiles, cups Fábio’s face and places another kiss on his lips.
“Easy. I’m not going anywhere.”