Fic: One Night Only? (Part 3)
Title: One Night Only? (Part 3)
Pairing: David Villa/David Silva
Rating: PG
Summary: Hungover training and some awkwardness
Disclaimer: This is fictional. There is no proof that any of this happened.
Feedback: Feedback makes me happy and makes me wanna write more
Part 3
More David on David awkwardness and suchlike.
Usually training outside of the usually training ground was considered a treat to reward good behaviour. However, clearly Aragones had decided on making his team jog through the town into a busy local park in order to punish them. There was nothing like making stupid mistakes in front of half naked, middle aged tourists to make a team regret drinking the night before.
Silva was glad of the long run to the park. It gave him time to clear his head and focus in on training. He prayed he wouldn’t be paired with Villa for stretches. Usually he prayed for the opposite but given the circumstances things might become too awkward.
As he jogged, Silva took in his surroundings. There was nothing like running round in the sun to clear you head. He had skilfully made his way into the very middle of the group, far enough behind Villa so that he couldn’t see him properly but still not trailing at the back where he would be shouted at for slacking off. No one was running alongside him and if he closed his eyes a little (not a lot because then he would trip and surely be laughed at) he could almost pretend he was on his own.
A few minutes into the very hot, uphill run Silva felt his headache reintroduce itself. Surely the park had to be close. How did Aragones plan on getting to the final if he killed off his whole team due to heat exhaustion?
Staring at the ground, Silva noticed another pair of shoes coming into his vision. Someone was dropping back. Glancing up Silva saw exactly who he had/hadn’t wanted to see. Villa didn’t look at him but as soon as they were level he stopped dropping back. ‘Please, don’t talk, please, don’t talk,’ Silva silently begged. If nothing else he was so desperate for some water he wasn’t sure he could even make any words come out. Thankfully, Villa kept quiet.
Silva concentrated on steadying his breathing. Maybe he could push forward without it seeming like he was getting away from the striker. Then again maybe dropping back would be easier. As he wondered which would be a better option, Silva stumbled a little. Villa’s hand reached out for him automatically, but pulled away again when Silva righted himself. Cesc giggled somewhere behind them and Villa glanced over his shoulder. Silva had no idea whether he was smiling or giving his world famous bitchface and more importantly he was trying really hard not to care.
When they finally reached the park, Silva was relieved to be paired with Cazorla for stretches. He was even more relieved when the stretches worked last night’s aches out of his body. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Villa laughing and joking with Iker. He wanted to look away, not be caught staring, but everywhere else he looked seemed to include unappealing sunbathers or Sergio and Fernando doing their infamous ‘foreplay-disguised-as-stretching’ routine.
Suddenly Villa was at his side. “Here,” he said, handing shirts to both Silva and Cazorla. Silva put the shirt on, ready for the training match but his eyes were still so wide and unsure that Villa felt he had to explain more. “Aragones told me to give you them. You weren’t paying attention.”
“Sorry,” Silva’s voice was barely audible. Villa shrugged and walked away to his non-shirt wearing team mates. Burying his face in his hands, Silva groaned.
“What’s wrong?” Cazorla asked with a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Nothing. Just need to get rid of this hangover.” Silva ran a hand through his hair. Maybe, just maybe, he could get through the rest of training and set about avoiding any more Villa awkwardness.
Training was almost over. Just a few more minutes of the practice match then Silva knew it would be over. He had skilfully avoided Villa the same way he used to skilfully manoeuvre himself closer to him. He had also rather unskilfully tripped over the ball much to the other player’s amusement. Maybe he should spend the rest of the day sleeping to avoid any further embarrassment. Though he wasn’t the only one making an idiot of himself. Sergio had taken a ball full in the face when he wasn’t paying attention and Cesc had had to sit down he was laughing so much. There was sure to be revenge.
Suddenly Silva noticed the ball flying towards him through the air. It was dangerously close to the net his team were meant to be defending and despite Iker being his team’s keeper, he still thought he better play it safe and try to head the ball away. Even Iker wasn’t completely infallible. Launching himself into the air he just got his head to the ball and tipped it away from the net. However, upon landing back on the ground he lost his footing and stumbled backwards into someone who had apparently been right behind him. As soon as he hit the other body he lost any chance of staying up, as did the other body.
Once again his team-mates laughed and he squirmed awkwardly. Boy, was that a mistake. Somehow Silva had found himself sitting rather embarrassingly in the lap of another man. Turning to apologise he froze. ‘Oh good God, of all the people,’ he inwardly shouted.
“You wanna get out of my lap at all?” Villa was smiling and propping himself up on his elbows as the little Spaniard blinked hard.
How to get up, how to get up? He knew what he had to do. He had to sit up and push himself forward like any normal person would. Any normal person that is, who hadn’t spent the previous night doing unspeakable things with the man they were currently sat on.
Closing his eyes Silva moved himself so that a certain part of his anatomy rubbed against a certain part of Villa’s anatomy. For a second, a very enjoyable second, Silva let himself enjoy the contact before lifting himself off the striker who leapt up after him. Jogging past him, Villa squeezed the younger man’s shoulder. Why did he have to act so normal whilst Silva was visibly breaking down?
During the jog back to the hotel Silva didn’t care that he was right at the back. He didn’t care when the others started looking at this fish in the river, or when Sergio tried to perk everyone up by incorporating dance moves into his running. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a Villa free hole and never come out. His embarrassment quota had certainly been filled for the day.
When his tired legs finally led him back into the hotel lobby Silva spotted Fernando standing around on his own. Silva wondered why he was standing around. He had been at the front of the group during the run. He was always at the front. Stupid long legs.
“Hey.” Fernando had spotted him. “What you up to?”
Silva raised his eyebrows. “Shower. Sleep. Why?”
“You wanna hang out a little? You can come up to my room.”
That would get him away from Villa. “Ok I guess. Where’s Sergio, aren’t you sharing with him?” (Ask a stupid question.)
“He’s having a shower. Then he’ll probably go to the pool or maybe go for a walk or something like that.” Fernando was tapping his foot on the ground in a very annoying way.
“Ok, well, I guess I’ll come round after I shower.” Silva began to head for the elevator.
Fernando followed close behind. “You can shower at our room if you want. It’ll be free.”
“I thought you said Sergio was using it?”
“Er, yeah but he’s quick. Quicker than Villa anyway. In the shower. I mean, when I roomed with Villa he took ages.”
Silva pressed the elevator button. Villa certainly could take a while showering, which was unusual given how little hair he actually had to wash.
Fernando seemed to be looking at Silva from under his eyelashes, which was probably quite difficult considering how much taller Fernando was then the other man. Silva scratched his head lazily. “Yeah, ok I suppose. I’ll come hang out with you for a while.”
Fernando leant back on the wall. “Ok good. We’ll have fun”