Crack!fic
Title: Actually, You Weren't Joking
Rating: Let's go with PG-13/light R...
Wordcount: 1,607
Characters/Pairing: Robin van Persie's POV. Pretty much the whole team, and the inevitable Ruud van Nistelrooy/Edwin van der Sar. Slightest hints of Huntelaar/Van Persie if you want to squint that way.
Disclaimer: Don't force me to say Ed's not mine again. I'll have a breakdown.
Warnings: Er... goofiness? Mild voyeurism? Not that bad, in other words... A little bit of creative license with the setting - I just basically made up a venue to suit the story.
Summary: Pure crack, pure silliness (glory *bloody* hallelujah!). Involves the whole Oranje team, showers, much blushing, and cookies. You have been warned. :D
The training had been long that day, and Robin van Persie was more than glad that it was over. He hated long days, he hated missing happy hour because of said long day, and most of all he hated having to work in a stadium that was so decrepit that there wasn't even a proper bathroom for them - the showers had been carted in from some temporary service, and the dressing room was a mere box made of collapsible walls.
Van Basten, of course, had left early, so it was only the team that was crowded into the cobbled-together changing area. Robin and Klaas shared a bench, toweling down and dressing quickly so as to try and get out of there fast - Robin grinned when Klaas offered him a biscuit from a box spirited away in his kit.
"Chocolate?"
"Yep. Finest kind." Klaas popped one in his mouth and smiled, mouth closed, giving his face an adorable chipmunk-like expression as he sat down and plunged his hand into the box for another. Robin sat next to him and peered around to see who was ready to leave - Dirk, Rafael, Khalid, Wesley, and Giovanni were all almost ready, but two members of the squad were conspicuously absent.
"Where are Ed and Ruud, anyone know?" Rafael called. "We can't leave without them."
Robin waved a hand dismissively. "There's no rush. Besides," he continued, cheekily holding up Klaas's box, "we've got cookies."
Dirk frowned, his wet hair falling down into his eyes. "Honestly, where are they? We were supposed to meet the bus fifteen minutes ago - are they still in the showers?"
"No," Robin said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he leaned down to tie one of his shoes. "They're off having wild, rampant, animalistic sex. Jeez, relax..."
He had expected laughter - what he got instead was total, overwhelming silence. He looked up to see Dirk blushing so hard his face appeared to be on fire, Giovanni huddled in a corner with his hands clapped over his mouth in his effort not to explode with giggles, and all the rest of his teammates staring at him in shock that was mixed with healthy doses of 'what the hell are you on?' Klaas's jaw was hanging open, and as Robin watched, a piece of the biscuit he had been eating fell ever so slowly out of his mouth to land with a sticky thud on the carpet.
"Um..." he dropped his laces and sat up straight, squinting. "Was it something I said?"
There was a flurry of blinks and shuffling. Dirk coughed. "Are you serious?"
Robin snorted. "Are you serious? Come on, of course I'm joking!" He reached down and picked up the piece of the biscuit, shoving it back into Klaas's mouth. Klaas's jaw shut with a snap, but still he stared at Robin with an alarmed gaze.
Giovanni's shoulders were shaking, and a high-pitched chuckle leaked out from behind his hands - though what was so funny about the whole situation Robin had no idea -
But then he heard the noise.
The biscuit fell out of Klaas's mouth again, this time in its entirety. Giovanni looked as though he were about to burst, and across the room he could see Wesley's eyes widen to the size of saucers.
Someone in the showers was...moaning.
By this time, tears were streaming down Giovanni's cheeks. He seemed to lower his hands with an effort, and he choked out - "You all didn't know?"
Rafael stammered, his eyes darting at the wall which separated the makeshift dressing room from the shower stalls. "Are they - are they really - "
"Of course they are, you idiots!" Giovanni whispered back. That simple sentence was apparently too much for him to handle, as a moment later he fell onto his side, clutching his ribs as he giggled into the carpet.
"Funny," Wesley said, his expression a good fit for an asphyxiated fish. "Real funny, Gio."
"What, you don't believe me?" Giovanni replied, lifting his head and smiling wildly. A moment later he was on his feet and advancing towards Dirk, beckoning with his hands. "I'll prove it to you - come on, I'll give you a lift."
"What?" Dirk's voice had risen at least two octaves, leaving him squeaking as he backed away from Giovanni's grasp. "Why me?"
"Because I said so," Giovanni retorted in a whisper, grinning wickedly as he stepped over to the wall, holding his hands together so Dirk could step into them. "Come on, then!"
Dirk took another pace backwards, shaking his head violently. Robin sighed and came up next to Giovanni, inwardly cursing himself for the mess he had gotten himself into. "I'll do it."
"Oh, great," Giovanni grumbled as Robin stepped into his hand, grabbing the top edge of the wall and pulling himself upwards. "You're heavier than he is..."
Robin kicked out at him with his free foot and then peeked over the flimsy wall - the wall which, rather disturbingly, was swaying underneath his grip. He took a moment to steady himself, trying to get a purchase on Giovanni with his other foot, and then scanned the temporary shower stalls that were spread out around him, fully convinced that he wouldn't see anyth -
- he blinked. There was a hand grasping the top edge of one of the stalls, about fifteen feet away from him. The shower in that stall was also on, the movable spout up as high as it could go, a small patch of steam rising into the air from the hot water. There was only one member of the team he knew that was tall enough to need to raise it that far - but that wasn't Edwin's hand. It was smaller, the skin a few shades darker. Robin gulped.
"Well?" came a whisper from down below him, he thought from Rafael. "Can you see anything, are they there?"
"Er - "
There was another hand. This one was larger, fairer, the wrist skinnier - and it was covering the first hand from behind, the fingers intertwining, both sets of knuckles white.
"Hoerenjong," Robin breathed. "Yes. They are."
He felt Giovanni snort against his calf, and looked down to see Dirk and Wesley staring up at him, their faces perfect candidates for a circus act. Klaas was sitting down again on one of the benches, furiously stuffing biscuits into his mouth.
Robin looked back over the wall - but it wasn't strictly necessary, because suddenly the nearly silent dressing room was being treated to an entire soundtrack of sounds normally confined to one's bedroom or secret video collection - the kind you would hide from your wife. In rapid succession a whole chorus of groans, gasps, and muttered curses floated its way out of the stall, over the noise from the running water and into the dressing room, where blushes were suddenly sprouting not only on Dirk's face - although Dirk was still winning that competition, his face red as a beet. Robin swallowed, feeling a prickly sensation of 'oh-my-god-get-me-out-of-here' bubbling up from his chest - but Giovanni wasn't letting him down. The bastard was just laughing, again.
He tried not to listen - he tried not to look. But it was hard to ignore the sudden yells darting through the air in unison, and the growled conversation which took place afterwards -
"Fuck. Ed, that was - who have you been practicing on?"
"What, are you jealous?"
"You bet I am. Is that what you give Rio nowadays?"
"Wouldn't you like to know..."
Robin looked down, glaring at Giovanni and the rest of them, who were all just standing there, looking shellshocked. The wall lurched alarmingly under his hands. "Why are we still here?" Robin hissed. "Oh, shut up, Gio! Why are we still h - !"
Robin barely had time to yell a warning before the wall finally gave in, teetered for a sickening instant, then swung downwards, crashing into the opposite shower stall - and from there, all was chaos, because not only was everyone shouting in consternation as Robin wobbled his way down from Giovanni's desperate and ultimately unsuccessful lunge to catch him, but the rest of the shower stalls themselves, as though galvanized by the shock, started spontaneously collapsing in maddeningly domino-like succession. Robin landed with an almighty thud on the first wall just as the final stall groaned its way to the ground on the other side of the room, all the breath driven from his lungs -
"Ow!"
All motion ceased. Robin looked up. Standing in the middle of the destruction, glowering at them all, was their captain and their top striker...
...or rather, their very, very naked captain and top striker. With their arms around each other. And all wet.
Ruud raised one eyebrow imperiously as Edwin stifled a laugh, his eyes twinkling. "Robin."
Robin scrambled up and backed away one step, wishing he could hide behind someone - he glanced once over his shoulder and saw that most of the rest of his teammates were shuffling away, trying to slip towards the door as fast as possible...which was really supremely unhelpful. A biscuit had once again fallen out of Klaas's mouth.
"Y-yes?"
"What on earth are you doing?"
Robin's jaw dropped open. "What are - what are we doing!?"
"Okay!" Giovanni's voice suddenly piped up, sounding far too cheerful for Robin's shocked nerves. "Show's over!"
And with that he grabbed Robin's ear with one hand and Klaas's with the other and dragged them out of the demolished dressing room, leaving only muffled chuckles in their wake.
FIN