fic: Games (Bojan Krkić/various, R) for dfotw
Title: Games
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Football RPS, FC Barcelona
Pairings: Bojan Krkić/Thierry Henry, Bojan Krkić/Pep Guardiola, Bojan Krkić/Lionel Messi
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I'm a lying bastard and made this all up. I don't claim to know any of the players I write about, they're most definitely not mine, and this very probably didn't happen. No payment involved, no offence intended. This is for my own entertainment.
Summary: They think Bojan likes to play games.
Dedication: For dfotw - merry Christmas, darling!
Word Count: 751
Thanks to porridgebird for the quick beta! *glomps*
Feedback: Everything is most welcome, from squee to constructive criticism. I even accept rotten tomatoes, so don't be shy. ;)
*****
They think Bojan likes to play games.
He tries to get Thierry’s attention during training by stretching with particular effort, drops of sweat crawling over his neck and the patch of skin between his run-up shirt and the shorts hanging dangerously low around his hips. And, when he notices Thierry’s hungry gaze, he flashes the Frenchman a beaming smile and stretches even wider, his little butt stuck pertly in Thierry’s direction, shamelessly flaunting all his bodily advantages. Demonstrating over and over again, with youthful mercilessness and determination, what Thierry can’t have.
He runs his tongue across his lips when Pep is talking to him, slowly, as if he’s too absorbed in the conversation to realise what he’s actually doing (but Pep knows better, he knows it’s all on purpose, to drive him insane). And when Pep loses his train of thought and starts to stutter, Adam’s apple jumping up and down as he gulps embarrassedly and tries to tear his gaze off Bojan’s pink, succulent tongue, Bojan suddenly giggles, cheeks flushing a little, and he says “Yes, coach, anything you want me to do,” and bats his eyelashes as if to imply there’s a lot more on the menu than football if Pep wants it. As if Bojan would actually fancy someone twice his age.
He sits incredibly close to Leo when they’re playing video games, as if the couch weren’t big enough for two people, their naked knees almost glued together, their elbows touching each other’s thighs as their fingers run over their controllers, frantically pressing buttons. Whenever he gets up to refill his drink or get some food, the space between them is reduced further as he sits back down. Until he ends up sitting so close that if Leo turned his head towards him, he’d be able to count Bojan’s eyelashes. Leo can’t concentrate on the game, but he can’t bring himself to tell Bojan to move away, either, because he wants him there, wants him close, wants a lot more from his friend than he’s supposed to, more than Bojan, innocent, straight Bojan, would allow him.
Yes, they’re convinced Bojan likes to play games with them and that he’s enjoying it to the fullest.
In fact, it’s nothing like that.
In fact, Bojan is desperate.
He didn’t choose to have a crush on three people to whom he is inferior in every way. He didn’t choose to be playful and outgoing when it was all friendly and fun, and to be a shy mess when it mattered.
He’s no match for Thierry’s experience, for Pep’s brains, for Leo’s skills. He doesn’t have anything to offer that they can’t get tenfold from their girlfriends and wives. He doesn’t dare to offer anything because they might laugh at him for being so naïve (at best), or be disgusted with him for fancying guys (at worst).
He’s just a boy with a hero complex - only it’s much more serious than that. He wants Thierry, he wants Pep, and he wants Leo, each of them for different reasons, each of them equally much. He’s a boy with not just one crush but three, and he wants to make all of them care about him a little. Not just one of them, and not just in a friendly way. He wouldn’t want to decide between them, even if some fairy godmother promised him he’d get at least one of them if he did.
He wants Thierry to come over to him during training, to whisper in his ear that he wants to meet him afterwards, maybe have a drink, maybe watch a film, and then wrap his strong, muscular body around Bojan and take him to the stars.
He wants Pep to slam him against the wall of his office, press his mouth against Bojan’s and suck in his tongue, and push a knee between Bojan’s thighs, and then toss him onto his desk, yank off his jeans and fuck him until he can’t even remember his name anymore.
He wants Leo to chuck his controller on the floor and lunge at him, tear off both their clothes, kiss him everywhere, and then make love to him, over and over again, until they’re both sticky and sated and can’t move except for some lazy, sloppy kisses.
He doesn’t know what to call it. He could call it love, or infatuation, or a teenage crush (or three, to be very exact).
He knows, however, what it’s not.
It’s definitely not a game.
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Football RPS, FC Barcelona
Pairings: Bojan Krkić/Thierry Henry, Bojan Krkić/Pep Guardiola, Bojan Krkić/Lionel Messi
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I'm a lying bastard and made this all up. I don't claim to know any of the players I write about, they're most definitely not mine, and this very probably didn't happen. No payment involved, no offence intended. This is for my own entertainment.
Summary: They think Bojan likes to play games.
Dedication: For dfotw - merry Christmas, darling!
Word Count: 751
Thanks to porridgebird for the quick beta! *glomps*
Feedback: Everything is most welcome, from squee to constructive criticism. I even accept rotten tomatoes, so don't be shy. ;)
*****
They think Bojan likes to play games.
He tries to get Thierry’s attention during training by stretching with particular effort, drops of sweat crawling over his neck and the patch of skin between his run-up shirt and the shorts hanging dangerously low around his hips. And, when he notices Thierry’s hungry gaze, he flashes the Frenchman a beaming smile and stretches even wider, his little butt stuck pertly in Thierry’s direction, shamelessly flaunting all his bodily advantages. Demonstrating over and over again, with youthful mercilessness and determination, what Thierry can’t have.
He runs his tongue across his lips when Pep is talking to him, slowly, as if he’s too absorbed in the conversation to realise what he’s actually doing (but Pep knows better, he knows it’s all on purpose, to drive him insane). And when Pep loses his train of thought and starts to stutter, Adam’s apple jumping up and down as he gulps embarrassedly and tries to tear his gaze off Bojan’s pink, succulent tongue, Bojan suddenly giggles, cheeks flushing a little, and he says “Yes, coach, anything you want me to do,” and bats his eyelashes as if to imply there’s a lot more on the menu than football if Pep wants it. As if Bojan would actually fancy someone twice his age.
He sits incredibly close to Leo when they’re playing video games, as if the couch weren’t big enough for two people, their naked knees almost glued together, their elbows touching each other’s thighs as their fingers run over their controllers, frantically pressing buttons. Whenever he gets up to refill his drink or get some food, the space between them is reduced further as he sits back down. Until he ends up sitting so close that if Leo turned his head towards him, he’d be able to count Bojan’s eyelashes. Leo can’t concentrate on the game, but he can’t bring himself to tell Bojan to move away, either, because he wants him there, wants him close, wants a lot more from his friend than he’s supposed to, more than Bojan, innocent, straight Bojan, would allow him.
Yes, they’re convinced Bojan likes to play games with them and that he’s enjoying it to the fullest.
In fact, it’s nothing like that.
In fact, Bojan is desperate.
He didn’t choose to have a crush on three people to whom he is inferior in every way. He didn’t choose to be playful and outgoing when it was all friendly and fun, and to be a shy mess when it mattered.
He’s no match for Thierry’s experience, for Pep’s brains, for Leo’s skills. He doesn’t have anything to offer that they can’t get tenfold from their girlfriends and wives. He doesn’t dare to offer anything because they might laugh at him for being so naïve (at best), or be disgusted with him for fancying guys (at worst).
He’s just a boy with a hero complex - only it’s much more serious than that. He wants Thierry, he wants Pep, and he wants Leo, each of them for different reasons, each of them equally much. He’s a boy with not just one crush but three, and he wants to make all of them care about him a little. Not just one of them, and not just in a friendly way. He wouldn’t want to decide between them, even if some fairy godmother promised him he’d get at least one of them if he did.
He wants Thierry to come over to him during training, to whisper in his ear that he wants to meet him afterwards, maybe have a drink, maybe watch a film, and then wrap his strong, muscular body around Bojan and take him to the stars.
He wants Pep to slam him against the wall of his office, press his mouth against Bojan’s and suck in his tongue, and push a knee between Bojan’s thighs, and then toss him onto his desk, yank off his jeans and fuck him until he can’t even remember his name anymore.
He wants Leo to chuck his controller on the floor and lunge at him, tear off both their clothes, kiss him everywhere, and then make love to him, over and over again, until they’re both sticky and sated and can’t move except for some lazy, sloppy kisses.
He doesn’t know what to call it. He could call it love, or infatuation, or a teenage crush (or three, to be very exact).
He knows, however, what it’s not.
It’s definitely not a game.