fic: Too Much (Diego Lugano/Diego Forlán, NC-17)
Title: Too Much
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Football RPS, Uruguayan National Team
Pairing: Diego Lugano/Diego Forlán
Rating: NC-17
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: It had to be a passing feeling, caused by the pride, the exuberance and the immense gratitude that came with the great achievement in South Africa. Only it wasn't.
Dedication: For the wonderful zimena, merry Christmas, and thanks for being such a kind person and a great friend and for knowing exactly what it means to have found The One Team. :)
Word Count: 4,212
Allergy Warning: Contains traces of angst, swearing, violence, blood and smut. Read at own risk.
Thanks to jennis_footie for the beta! I'm indebted to you! *glomp*
Feedback: Everything is most welcome, from squee to constructive criticism. I even accept rotten tomatoes, so don't be shy. ;)
*****
It was that summer feeling. It had to be. They weren't World Champions, or second best, or third, but they had achieved more than anyone would have thought them capable of, maybe even more than they would have expected of themselves. They had endured months of hard work prior to the tournament. They had shared the pain and the sadness that came with the crucial defeats against The Netherlands and Germany. And they had all felt the pride, the exuberance and the joy upon returning to Uruguay, the praise of the people they represented, and their immense gratitude.
It had to be that. They were family now. They had grown together, grown to love each other, all of them, every single one, the regulars and the supplements, the coach and the physicians and the rest of the coaching staff. And the two of them: Diego and Diego. The captain and the goalgetter. It was only natural that they would end up sharing a special bond between them, a special kind of affection. They had carried the team to victories that the world had thought impossible.
And yet, Diego wondered sometimes, during the first weeks of vacation, if the two of them were really supposed to be this close. They spoke on the phone almost every day, exchanging news, reminiscing about South Africa, or just talking about things that seemed irrelevant at first but gained depth during the course of their conversations. They met as often as possible, had barbecues, watched movies at the cinema, went swimming, or spent their afternoons kicking a football on the old clay courts in the neighbourhood (though most of the time they didn't really get to play but instead sat on the ground and talked).
Diego met his other teammates as well, of course, but not nearly as often, and their company didn't compare to Lugano's either. They were different. Great friends, but different.
After a few weeks, things started to worry him. Not just the incredible closeness, but also his own dependence on Lugano's company, the necessity he felt about having him in his life. He's never been addicted to anything, really, but he was growing addicted to Lugano, and it was getting unhealthy. Unhealthy and wrong.
It had to stop before it got out of control.
Diego was almost relieved when they had to return to Europe for their preseason training and couldn't spend so much time together anymore. Diego hoped that the distance would cure his addiction.
It didn't. Despite the hard work he put himself through during preseason, despite the many sessions in the gym during which he was trying to steel his body as well as his mind, he never managed to get Lugano out of his head. The moment he returned home, exhausted and tired, he checked his mobile, and stayed awake until he got the message or the phone call he had been waiting for.
The distance had improved nothing.
On the contrary. It had made things even worse.
Only a few weeks into the season, the nightmares started.
It wasn't the usual, ordinary kind of nightmares. Diego didn't dream about monsters or murders or anything like that. And still, nearly every morning he woke up bathed in sweat, with a frantically beating heart and a sick feeling in his stomach.
Diego dreamed of Lugano. Lugano in the gym, Lugano on the pitch, Lugano at the beach, Lugano running laps on the training field. And he dreamed in high resolution. His subconscious fed him the most detailed close-ups of his hair, his eyes, his skin. The curve of his lips when he smiled. The soft skin of his neck. His broad shoulders, arms, chest, stomach. The trail of hair disappearing into his shorts. His strong back, pert ass. His muscular thighs and calves. His feet. And, yes, that promising bulge in his shorts.
No matter how much he begged for it, the dreams never stopped there. They made him approach Lugano, peel him out of his clothes, and touch him all over. They made him crush his mouth against Lugano's. They made him open his legs for Lugano, and beg him to fuck him. And when Lugano took him, pushing into him again and again, it felt so real, so unbelievably real that Diego woke up sticky and shivering.
He had never been so ashamed of himself.
It wasn't as if he was worried about having such dreams about another man. That really wasn't it. If it were anyone else, any random guy, it would be okay. Difficult, yes. Maybe impossible to act on it, considering his job and his career. But Diego wouldn't feel disgusted or ashamed by it.
But this was Lugano. His teammate. His captain. Probably his closest friend. Dreaming about him in that way felt like betraying him, like soiling their friendship.
He tried his best to stop the dreams. He spent countless sleepless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, willing himself to stay awake just to prevent himself from dreaming. But it all came to nothing. The exertions of his training sessions with Atlético soon used up his energy reserves and he fell asleep despite himself. Not even his exhaustion could keep the dreams away.
He sought distraction in Madrid's nightlife, chatted up women in bars and discos, took them home with him, spent the night with them, but not even the most gorgeous of them, not even the most skilled or passionate, could make him feel anything remotely close to what Lugano made him feel in his dreams, and the physical satisfaction was short-lived.
Diego never told Lugano about any of this. They spoke on the phone almost every day, that hadn't changed. But no matter how often Lugano said that Diego sounded weird, or that he was being monosyllabic, Diego just couldn't bring himself to say anything. Lugano gave him plenty of chances to tell him what was bothering him, but Diego wouldn't even know where to start.
Instead, he kept his secrets, pretended everything was fine, and hoped that Lugano wouldn't see through his lies. That he wouldn't find out the truth, the humiliating truth that he cried out every night, in the darkness of his bedroom, as he brought himself off thinking of Lugano.
And then, one day, right out of the blue, Lugano stood on his doorstep, wearing a blinding smile, and Diego was frozen to the spot. He knew what he should have done. He should have smiled, pulled Lugano into a hug and showed him his flat. He should have switched on the kettle to boil water for mate. He should have been ridiculously happy about the visit of his best friend.
Instead, he didn't move. He didn't even step aside to let Lugano in. He just stood there, shell-shocked.
Lugano said something about Diego seeming really surprised to see him, but Diego barely registered it. The longer he stared at Lugano, the more clearly he remembered the things he had dreamed about him, the countless times he touched himself thinking of him, and he felt so ashamed that he wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow him whole.
When Lugano took a step towards him and stretched out his arm to put a hand on his shoulder, Diego couldn't help but recoil.
Finally, the smile on Lugano's face disappeared. With a sigh, he picked up his suitcase from the floor. However, instead of turning around and leaving, just like Diego expected, Lugano brushed past his friend, pushing Diego against the open door and making every hair on his body stand on edge at the contact.
Lugano tossed his luggage into a corner, then pulled Diego away from the door and slammed it close.
"We have to talk."
Diego nodded, though, to tell the truth, there was nothing in the world he wanted less in this moment.
The defender sat down on the couch and waited.
Diego sighed. This was it. There was no backing away now. He was fucked. Trying to put as much distance between them as possible, he finally picked the armchair opposite the sofa.
"I'm going to take a wild guess," Lugano started, sounding as if it took him quite a lot of willpower to keep his voice down, "your foul mood has something to do with me."
A wild guess indeed. Diego nodded. There was no use denying it.
Lugano let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, no surprises here. You've been treating me like an idiot for weeks. Of course this has something to do with me." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Honestly, whatever you think, I wasn't going for this. I didn't plan this. I didn't want this to happen, and if I did anything to make it happen, I swear I didn't do it on purpose."
Diego shook his head. Of course not. It wasn't even Lugano's fault. Only his own. His own fucking fault.
"I just thought," Lugano continued, and there was an edge to his voice now, "that, being such a fucking saint, you'd be able to see past this."
Diego bit his lip, anger welling up inside him. "I'm not a fucking saint," he hissed. "And this is a fucking big thing to see past. I can't just act as if everything's perfect when it couldn't be worse."
Lugano huffed at that. "Couldn't be worse? Are you even listening to yourself? People are dying out there, and you think you're miserable? Over something like this? Grow up!"
"Right, go on and put all my problems into perspective," Diego snarled, "as if you have any idea what I'm going through." Was Lugano really such a bastard? Had he completely misjudged him? Diego couldn't believe it.
"I guess I'll never find out, huh?" Lugano glared at him furiously. "I bet you actually think I should sympathise with you. You know what? I pity you. You and your narrow-mindedness that's causing you so much suffering."
Diego's hand curled into a fist, his fingernails digging into his palm. "I don't need your pity. Go and bask in your perfection, you fucking son of a bitch. You've washed your hands of any blame, it's clearly my narrow-mindedness that caused all this, so what else do you want? Do you want me to thank you for opening my eyes? Do you want me to beg you to humiliate me further? Do you want me to praise you for being so faultless? Huh? What do you want?"
"What do I want?" Lugano snorted angrily. "You can't give me what I want."
"And don't I know it," Diego said bitterly. He couldn't believe he still wanted this man, after everything he'd said to him, but he did, and probably even more now that he knew he could never have him. "You'll never stop punishing me for this, will you? You'll never believe me, even if I swear that I never expected anything from you, not even after I realised… this. I had no agenda. I didn't even want you to know. But you don't see that. You want me to pay for feeling like this."
"Do you want me to congratulate you for it instead?" Lugano rolled his eyes. "What a hypocrite you are, playing the victim like that."
"A hypocrite? Playing the victim?" Diego let out a sarcastic laugh. "That's rich coming from you. You act as if I insulted you, and did it on purpose! You blame me for your injured pride, when all I did was inadvertently and involuntarily like you too just a little too much. Fuck you!"
Lugano stared at him. "Wow, I must really disgust you if this little is still too much for you."
"This little?" Diego stared back at Lugano, flabbergasted. "You spend the last ten minutes mocking me for feeling like this, and now you tell me it's not even enough? You fucking bastard, how much do you want me to adore you? Do you want me to worship you like a God to be content?"
Lugano signed. "Spare me your sarcasm," he said curtly, "you're wasting it." He leaned back against the sofa. "I don't know what you thought of me before, if you thought of me as a best friend, or a brother, but it doesn't matter. Fuck, I don't care anymore. You don't think of me the way I think of you, and that's that. There's no use in arguing." He got up. "I should go. I shouldn't have come here."
Diego looked at him. "If I could think of you the way you think of me, then I would," he said with a sigh. The initial anger he felt at being treated this way by Lugano was fading slowly, making way for sadness and stoic acceptance. It was time to pick up the pieces and save what could be saved of their friendship - if anything at all. "Don't think I haven't tried. I stayed awake all night just so I wouldn't dream of you. I've been with a different chick almost every night for weeks just so I wouldn't want you anymore. It's not working. Even now that you've insulted me and mocked me and humiliated me, things haven't changed. I like you too much and I can't like you less."
Lugano, almost at the door, suddenly turned around. He didn't say anything. Quietly, he walked towards Diego. Slowly, step by step.
A sick feeling spread in Diego's stomach. He didn't dare to move. Would Lugano hit him for having said things like this out loud? For confronting him with the painful truth that they'd just been dancing around before?
Finally, Lugano had reached him. It seemed like hours had passed, but Diego wasn't feeling any better. His fingers were shaking, nails digging into the armrest of the chair.
Lugano stretched out his hand. Diego, not knowing what else to do, took it.
With a swift move, Lugano pulled Diego out of the chair. For a while they stood there, looking at each other. Diego's heart was racing in his chest. His throat was dry. He was fucking scared of what would happen. And yet, he could feel himself getting hard at the proximity of Lugano, at the warmth of his breath on his face, at the way he looked at him, as if he could see right through him.
"Diego…" Lugano said hoarsely.
And then, suddenly - Diego doesn't know how it happened - his hands were cupping Diego's face, and Diego's hands were on Lugano's, and their mouths crashed together, and they kissed like Diego had dreamed it so many times, only this time it was real, and it was Lugano, and it felt so much better than he could have imagined.
Hands all over each other, as if they both needed to hold on to each other to convince themselves that this wasn't a dream, they staggered about the room for minutes, knocking down chairs, lamps, and bric-a-brac until they finally landed on the couch and Lugano bit Diego's lip on impact, drawing blood.
A jolt of heat went through Diego as he tasted copper and iron on his tongue, and he clawed at Lugano, eager to get him naked, to feel his skin. Lugano's hands fumbled with Diego's zipper but there wasn't enough room, Lugano's leg was in the way, rubbing against Diego's crotch as the defender tried to open the striker's jeans.
Diego moaned into Lugano's mouth and tried to shift away from the far too delicious friction but he couldn't move an inch, Lugano had him pinned down firmly as he was practically assaulting the zipper of his jeans.
Only a couple of seconds later Diego's jeans came apart with a loud noise, and just when Diego wanted to protest that Lugano had just ruined one of his most expensive pairs, the defender had already dug his hand into Diego's shorts and wrapped his fingers around Diego's dick, and all he could do was groan as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.
Desperate to hold on to something, Diego's hand dug into Lugano's hair, pulling almost violently at the blond curls, and Lugano seemed to take this as an encouragement to go faster, until Diego couldn't stand it anymore and bit Lugano's lip in return, and finally, Lugano took his hand away and broke the kiss.
Only to run his tongue slowly across his bleeding lip.
The image nearly drove Diego over the edge.
Consumed by desire, he pulled Lugano close and closed his mouth on the defender's again, tongue greedily lapping up the blood as his other hand fumbled with the buttons of Lugano's jeans.
After a while of fruitless fumbling, Lugano pushed Diego away, ripped his jeans open with a quick, forceful yank. Black briefs. Fucking Jesus. Diego let himself slip to the floor and dug his face into Lugano's crotch, breathing in the scent of him and running his nose and lips across the bulge until the urge to taste him became too much to bear and he tore Lugano's underwear away and closed his mouth around the other man's dick and sucked him in.
Lugano moaned, jerking forward, and if Diego hadn't moved his hands to hold Lugano's hips in place, the guy would probably have choked him then and there. Diego didn't stop. He couldn't. Not when Lugano groaned like that. Not when he cursed like that under his breath, telling him things he would probably be ashamed to say in any other situation. Diego fucking loved it. He fucking loved Lugano.
Eventually, Lugano's breath got shallow, and he was panting, gnawing at his torn lip, and Diego pulled back reluctantly. Only a minute ago he didn't know what to do, didn't know how far he wanted to go, but now he did.
When Lugano looked at him, eyes dazed, a soft smile on his lips, Diego didn't hesitate. "I could finish this right here and right now," he said, giving Lugano's dick a couple of quick strokes that made the other man gasp and bite his lip, "or we could finish this another way."
Lugano's eyes went wide as he realised what Diego meant. "You mean… have you done that before?"
Diego looked away, feeling the flush crawl over his cheeks. "Not… exactly. But I know what to do. If you want to."
"Do you want me to?" Lugano, who only minutes before had violently ripped apart Diego's jeans, sounded concerned all of a sudden.
"Yes," Diego said, wishing he didn't sound so hoarse. "I want you to." Of course he was nervous, but Lugano didn't have to know that.
"You don't want to wait?"
Diego chuckled. "I've waited long enough. Come on."
They got rid of the remains of their clothes on the way to the bedroom but Diego forced himself not to waste too much time staring at Lugano when he had other, more urgent needs to satisfy. A moment later, he produced a pack of condoms and a tube of lube from his bedside table.
Lugano gave him a strange look, and Diego almost felt awkward about being so prepared.
"So you didn't plan this, huh?" the defender said with a chuckle.
Diego blushed, even though Lugano was only teasing him. "No. I… I just wanted to know how it feels to… you know."
"How did you find out?" Lugano sat on the bed, fingering the tube of lube. It was open and half-empty.
Diego swallowed, embarrassed at the subject. "I didn't really find out properly. I… used my fingers."
"How did that feel?"
Diego smiled at the memory. "Strange at first. But it got better."
Lugano nodded. He opened the tube and spread some of the transparent liquid on his fingers. "Want me to?"
Diego laughed. "That would be nice. I don't think I could do this if you don't loosen me up a little."
"Fuck," Lugano said, chuckling awkwardly. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this."
"You?" Diego snorted. "How can you not be ready? Don't you want to-"
"I want to," Lugano interrupted him, "I just…" A thought seemed to occur to him. "Are you sure you're not just offering this as some kind of proof? Because… I'm sorry about what I said to you. About not trusting you."
Diego shook his head. "This isn't proof. This is what I want. I told you I like you too much, so you have to accept it when I ask you to do reckless things." He smiled. "So, if I lie down now, what are you going to do?"
Lugano pulled Diego into a kiss. "Do you honestly think I could say no to this? To you?" Lugano slowly ran a finger down Diego's chest and abs. "You don't seem to know me well."
"Not well enough," Diego said as he lay down on the bed, pushing a pillow underneath his hips and spreading his legs. "Come on."
When Lugano's finger entered him, cool and slick with lube, it took some effort for Diego to stay relaxed. He still hadn't quite gotten used to this first penetration, but Lugano was moving slowly, gently, carefully. Diego bit his lip. He could do this.
The second time Lugano pushed forward, it was easier, and the third time was easier still. The fourth time, it started feeling good. A tingling sensation spread in his stomach, and Diego opened up wider. "Yes, like that," he panted, "come on, deeper…"
Lugano complied, and when he added another finger, Diego bit his lip, not with discomfort but with pleasure. He didn't know what had just happened, but he knew that something inside him was responding to the touch, sending little jolts of electricity through him.
"You like that?" Lugano sounded almost surprised.
"Yes," Diego panted, pushing his ass up. "Go faster!"
Lugano swallowed audibly. "Fuck, if you make me do this for much longer, I'm going to come right here and now." He dug his fingers into Diego again, making him shudder with pleasure. "You should see yourself. Fucking hell…"
Diego laughed, but all that came out was a series of gasps. "You should feel yourself," he said, then groaned out again as Lugano brushed his fingers against the particularly sensitive spot inside him again. "Fuck…"
Finally, Lugano pulled out. "I hope this is enough, I can't wait anymore." He grabbed a condom and quickly put it on before spreading some more lube on it.
"It should be enough, just go slowly, okay?"
"I'll try." Lugano positioned himself between Diego's spread legs. "Ready?"
"Yes."
Diego bit his lip as he felt Lugano's weight shift on top of him, and almost got cold feet as the tip of Lugano's dick pressed against him, feeling unnaturally huge all of a sudden. But he kept quiet, bracing himself for the impact.
When Lugano entered him, it hurt. Diego knew that Lugano was going slowly, but his dick was no comparison to a couple of fingers, and he wasn't used to this. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to breathe deeply and to stay relaxed.
Lugano seemed to sense his discomfort. "I'm hurting you," he said, moving to pull out, but Diego put an arm around himself to stop him.
"Keep going," he panted through his gritted teeth, "it'll get better."
A couple of slow thrusts later, the pain got bearable, and it didn't take long until it faded completely and Diego could finally feel Lugano moving inside him properly, gasping with every thrust, as if he was doing his best to hold himself back. He never thought he could feel like this. Never thought anyone could make him feel like this. Every time Lugano thrust into him, it felt better. His entire body seemed to be on edge, his skin tingling all over, making him shudder. He didn't even need to touch himself to feel pleasure. And when Lugano found that spot inside him again, Diego nearly saw stars.
"Holy fuck, do that again," he moaned, then moaned again when Lugano complied.
It was the last coherent thing he managed to say before Lugano increased his speed and the force of his thrusts and reduced Diego to a sobbing, groaning mess, making him jerk and shiver and spasm and feel like he was dying, like his heart was stopping, or exploding in his chest, and the rest of him with it.
Not much later, Lugano cried out behind him, digging his fingernails into Diego's hips as he moved faster against him, groaning gutturally. It was enough for Diego's orgasm to finally hit him, and he almost blacked out from the intensity of it, his entire body convulsing and twitching as he came harder than ever before in his life, choking out a cry before collapsing into the sheets.
He might like Lugano too much, Diego realised as he opened his eyes again and found his captain next to him, radiating warmth, a smile on his face and an arm around Diego's waist, fingers stroking softly across his sweaty skin. But then Lugano bent forward to kiss him again, softly moving his lips against Diego's and gently caressing Diego's tongue with his, Diego realised he wasn't alone in this mess.
Because Lugano liked him way too much, too.
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Football RPS, Uruguayan National Team
Pairing: Diego Lugano/Diego Forlán
Rating: NC-17
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: It had to be a passing feeling, caused by the pride, the exuberance and the immense gratitude that came with the great achievement in South Africa. Only it wasn't.
Dedication: For the wonderful zimena, merry Christmas, and thanks for being such a kind person and a great friend and for knowing exactly what it means to have found The One Team. :)
Word Count: 4,212
Allergy Warning: Contains traces of angst, swearing, violence, blood and smut. Read at own risk.
Thanks to jennis_footie for the beta! I'm indebted to you! *glomp*
Feedback: Everything is most welcome, from squee to constructive criticism. I even accept rotten tomatoes, so don't be shy. ;)
*****
It was that summer feeling. It had to be. They weren't World Champions, or second best, or third, but they had achieved more than anyone would have thought them capable of, maybe even more than they would have expected of themselves. They had endured months of hard work prior to the tournament. They had shared the pain and the sadness that came with the crucial defeats against The Netherlands and Germany. And they had all felt the pride, the exuberance and the joy upon returning to Uruguay, the praise of the people they represented, and their immense gratitude.
It had to be that. They were family now. They had grown together, grown to love each other, all of them, every single one, the regulars and the supplements, the coach and the physicians and the rest of the coaching staff. And the two of them: Diego and Diego. The captain and the goalgetter. It was only natural that they would end up sharing a special bond between them, a special kind of affection. They had carried the team to victories that the world had thought impossible.
And yet, Diego wondered sometimes, during the first weeks of vacation, if the two of them were really supposed to be this close. They spoke on the phone almost every day, exchanging news, reminiscing about South Africa, or just talking about things that seemed irrelevant at first but gained depth during the course of their conversations. They met as often as possible, had barbecues, watched movies at the cinema, went swimming, or spent their afternoons kicking a football on the old clay courts in the neighbourhood (though most of the time they didn't really get to play but instead sat on the ground and talked).
Diego met his other teammates as well, of course, but not nearly as often, and their company didn't compare to Lugano's either. They were different. Great friends, but different.
After a few weeks, things started to worry him. Not just the incredible closeness, but also his own dependence on Lugano's company, the necessity he felt about having him in his life. He's never been addicted to anything, really, but he was growing addicted to Lugano, and it was getting unhealthy. Unhealthy and wrong.
It had to stop before it got out of control.
Diego was almost relieved when they had to return to Europe for their preseason training and couldn't spend so much time together anymore. Diego hoped that the distance would cure his addiction.
It didn't. Despite the hard work he put himself through during preseason, despite the many sessions in the gym during which he was trying to steel his body as well as his mind, he never managed to get Lugano out of his head. The moment he returned home, exhausted and tired, he checked his mobile, and stayed awake until he got the message or the phone call he had been waiting for.
The distance had improved nothing.
On the contrary. It had made things even worse.
Only a few weeks into the season, the nightmares started.
It wasn't the usual, ordinary kind of nightmares. Diego didn't dream about monsters or murders or anything like that. And still, nearly every morning he woke up bathed in sweat, with a frantically beating heart and a sick feeling in his stomach.
Diego dreamed of Lugano. Lugano in the gym, Lugano on the pitch, Lugano at the beach, Lugano running laps on the training field. And he dreamed in high resolution. His subconscious fed him the most detailed close-ups of his hair, his eyes, his skin. The curve of his lips when he smiled. The soft skin of his neck. His broad shoulders, arms, chest, stomach. The trail of hair disappearing into his shorts. His strong back, pert ass. His muscular thighs and calves. His feet. And, yes, that promising bulge in his shorts.
No matter how much he begged for it, the dreams never stopped there. They made him approach Lugano, peel him out of his clothes, and touch him all over. They made him crush his mouth against Lugano's. They made him open his legs for Lugano, and beg him to fuck him. And when Lugano took him, pushing into him again and again, it felt so real, so unbelievably real that Diego woke up sticky and shivering.
He had never been so ashamed of himself.
It wasn't as if he was worried about having such dreams about another man. That really wasn't it. If it were anyone else, any random guy, it would be okay. Difficult, yes. Maybe impossible to act on it, considering his job and his career. But Diego wouldn't feel disgusted or ashamed by it.
But this was Lugano. His teammate. His captain. Probably his closest friend. Dreaming about him in that way felt like betraying him, like soiling their friendship.
He tried his best to stop the dreams. He spent countless sleepless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, willing himself to stay awake just to prevent himself from dreaming. But it all came to nothing. The exertions of his training sessions with Atlético soon used up his energy reserves and he fell asleep despite himself. Not even his exhaustion could keep the dreams away.
He sought distraction in Madrid's nightlife, chatted up women in bars and discos, took them home with him, spent the night with them, but not even the most gorgeous of them, not even the most skilled or passionate, could make him feel anything remotely close to what Lugano made him feel in his dreams, and the physical satisfaction was short-lived.
Diego never told Lugano about any of this. They spoke on the phone almost every day, that hadn't changed. But no matter how often Lugano said that Diego sounded weird, or that he was being monosyllabic, Diego just couldn't bring himself to say anything. Lugano gave him plenty of chances to tell him what was bothering him, but Diego wouldn't even know where to start.
Instead, he kept his secrets, pretended everything was fine, and hoped that Lugano wouldn't see through his lies. That he wouldn't find out the truth, the humiliating truth that he cried out every night, in the darkness of his bedroom, as he brought himself off thinking of Lugano.
And then, one day, right out of the blue, Lugano stood on his doorstep, wearing a blinding smile, and Diego was frozen to the spot. He knew what he should have done. He should have smiled, pulled Lugano into a hug and showed him his flat. He should have switched on the kettle to boil water for mate. He should have been ridiculously happy about the visit of his best friend.
Instead, he didn't move. He didn't even step aside to let Lugano in. He just stood there, shell-shocked.
Lugano said something about Diego seeming really surprised to see him, but Diego barely registered it. The longer he stared at Lugano, the more clearly he remembered the things he had dreamed about him, the countless times he touched himself thinking of him, and he felt so ashamed that he wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow him whole.
When Lugano took a step towards him and stretched out his arm to put a hand on his shoulder, Diego couldn't help but recoil.
Finally, the smile on Lugano's face disappeared. With a sigh, he picked up his suitcase from the floor. However, instead of turning around and leaving, just like Diego expected, Lugano brushed past his friend, pushing Diego against the open door and making every hair on his body stand on edge at the contact.
Lugano tossed his luggage into a corner, then pulled Diego away from the door and slammed it close.
"We have to talk."
Diego nodded, though, to tell the truth, there was nothing in the world he wanted less in this moment.
The defender sat down on the couch and waited.
Diego sighed. This was it. There was no backing away now. He was fucked. Trying to put as much distance between them as possible, he finally picked the armchair opposite the sofa.
"I'm going to take a wild guess," Lugano started, sounding as if it took him quite a lot of willpower to keep his voice down, "your foul mood has something to do with me."
A wild guess indeed. Diego nodded. There was no use denying it.
Lugano let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, no surprises here. You've been treating me like an idiot for weeks. Of course this has something to do with me." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Honestly, whatever you think, I wasn't going for this. I didn't plan this. I didn't want this to happen, and if I did anything to make it happen, I swear I didn't do it on purpose."
Diego shook his head. Of course not. It wasn't even Lugano's fault. Only his own. His own fucking fault.
"I just thought," Lugano continued, and there was an edge to his voice now, "that, being such a fucking saint, you'd be able to see past this."
Diego bit his lip, anger welling up inside him. "I'm not a fucking saint," he hissed. "And this is a fucking big thing to see past. I can't just act as if everything's perfect when it couldn't be worse."
Lugano huffed at that. "Couldn't be worse? Are you even listening to yourself? People are dying out there, and you think you're miserable? Over something like this? Grow up!"
"Right, go on and put all my problems into perspective," Diego snarled, "as if you have any idea what I'm going through." Was Lugano really such a bastard? Had he completely misjudged him? Diego couldn't believe it.
"I guess I'll never find out, huh?" Lugano glared at him furiously. "I bet you actually think I should sympathise with you. You know what? I pity you. You and your narrow-mindedness that's causing you so much suffering."
Diego's hand curled into a fist, his fingernails digging into his palm. "I don't need your pity. Go and bask in your perfection, you fucking son of a bitch. You've washed your hands of any blame, it's clearly my narrow-mindedness that caused all this, so what else do you want? Do you want me to thank you for opening my eyes? Do you want me to beg you to humiliate me further? Do you want me to praise you for being so faultless? Huh? What do you want?"
"What do I want?" Lugano snorted angrily. "You can't give me what I want."
"And don't I know it," Diego said bitterly. He couldn't believe he still wanted this man, after everything he'd said to him, but he did, and probably even more now that he knew he could never have him. "You'll never stop punishing me for this, will you? You'll never believe me, even if I swear that I never expected anything from you, not even after I realised… this. I had no agenda. I didn't even want you to know. But you don't see that. You want me to pay for feeling like this."
"Do you want me to congratulate you for it instead?" Lugano rolled his eyes. "What a hypocrite you are, playing the victim like that."
"A hypocrite? Playing the victim?" Diego let out a sarcastic laugh. "That's rich coming from you. You act as if I insulted you, and did it on purpose! You blame me for your injured pride, when all I did was inadvertently and involuntarily like you too just a little too much. Fuck you!"
Lugano stared at him. "Wow, I must really disgust you if this little is still too much for you."
"This little?" Diego stared back at Lugano, flabbergasted. "You spend the last ten minutes mocking me for feeling like this, and now you tell me it's not even enough? You fucking bastard, how much do you want me to adore you? Do you want me to worship you like a God to be content?"
Lugano signed. "Spare me your sarcasm," he said curtly, "you're wasting it." He leaned back against the sofa. "I don't know what you thought of me before, if you thought of me as a best friend, or a brother, but it doesn't matter. Fuck, I don't care anymore. You don't think of me the way I think of you, and that's that. There's no use in arguing." He got up. "I should go. I shouldn't have come here."
Diego looked at him. "If I could think of you the way you think of me, then I would," he said with a sigh. The initial anger he felt at being treated this way by Lugano was fading slowly, making way for sadness and stoic acceptance. It was time to pick up the pieces and save what could be saved of their friendship - if anything at all. "Don't think I haven't tried. I stayed awake all night just so I wouldn't dream of you. I've been with a different chick almost every night for weeks just so I wouldn't want you anymore. It's not working. Even now that you've insulted me and mocked me and humiliated me, things haven't changed. I like you too much and I can't like you less."
Lugano, almost at the door, suddenly turned around. He didn't say anything. Quietly, he walked towards Diego. Slowly, step by step.
A sick feeling spread in Diego's stomach. He didn't dare to move. Would Lugano hit him for having said things like this out loud? For confronting him with the painful truth that they'd just been dancing around before?
Finally, Lugano had reached him. It seemed like hours had passed, but Diego wasn't feeling any better. His fingers were shaking, nails digging into the armrest of the chair.
Lugano stretched out his hand. Diego, not knowing what else to do, took it.
With a swift move, Lugano pulled Diego out of the chair. For a while they stood there, looking at each other. Diego's heart was racing in his chest. His throat was dry. He was fucking scared of what would happen. And yet, he could feel himself getting hard at the proximity of Lugano, at the warmth of his breath on his face, at the way he looked at him, as if he could see right through him.
"Diego…" Lugano said hoarsely.
And then, suddenly - Diego doesn't know how it happened - his hands were cupping Diego's face, and Diego's hands were on Lugano's, and their mouths crashed together, and they kissed like Diego had dreamed it so many times, only this time it was real, and it was Lugano, and it felt so much better than he could have imagined.
Hands all over each other, as if they both needed to hold on to each other to convince themselves that this wasn't a dream, they staggered about the room for minutes, knocking down chairs, lamps, and bric-a-brac until they finally landed on the couch and Lugano bit Diego's lip on impact, drawing blood.
A jolt of heat went through Diego as he tasted copper and iron on his tongue, and he clawed at Lugano, eager to get him naked, to feel his skin. Lugano's hands fumbled with Diego's zipper but there wasn't enough room, Lugano's leg was in the way, rubbing against Diego's crotch as the defender tried to open the striker's jeans.
Diego moaned into Lugano's mouth and tried to shift away from the far too delicious friction but he couldn't move an inch, Lugano had him pinned down firmly as he was practically assaulting the zipper of his jeans.
Only a couple of seconds later Diego's jeans came apart with a loud noise, and just when Diego wanted to protest that Lugano had just ruined one of his most expensive pairs, the defender had already dug his hand into Diego's shorts and wrapped his fingers around Diego's dick, and all he could do was groan as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.
Desperate to hold on to something, Diego's hand dug into Lugano's hair, pulling almost violently at the blond curls, and Lugano seemed to take this as an encouragement to go faster, until Diego couldn't stand it anymore and bit Lugano's lip in return, and finally, Lugano took his hand away and broke the kiss.
Only to run his tongue slowly across his bleeding lip.
The image nearly drove Diego over the edge.
Consumed by desire, he pulled Lugano close and closed his mouth on the defender's again, tongue greedily lapping up the blood as his other hand fumbled with the buttons of Lugano's jeans.
After a while of fruitless fumbling, Lugano pushed Diego away, ripped his jeans open with a quick, forceful yank. Black briefs. Fucking Jesus. Diego let himself slip to the floor and dug his face into Lugano's crotch, breathing in the scent of him and running his nose and lips across the bulge until the urge to taste him became too much to bear and he tore Lugano's underwear away and closed his mouth around the other man's dick and sucked him in.
Lugano moaned, jerking forward, and if Diego hadn't moved his hands to hold Lugano's hips in place, the guy would probably have choked him then and there. Diego didn't stop. He couldn't. Not when Lugano groaned like that. Not when he cursed like that under his breath, telling him things he would probably be ashamed to say in any other situation. Diego fucking loved it. He fucking loved Lugano.
Eventually, Lugano's breath got shallow, and he was panting, gnawing at his torn lip, and Diego pulled back reluctantly. Only a minute ago he didn't know what to do, didn't know how far he wanted to go, but now he did.
When Lugano looked at him, eyes dazed, a soft smile on his lips, Diego didn't hesitate. "I could finish this right here and right now," he said, giving Lugano's dick a couple of quick strokes that made the other man gasp and bite his lip, "or we could finish this another way."
Lugano's eyes went wide as he realised what Diego meant. "You mean… have you done that before?"
Diego looked away, feeling the flush crawl over his cheeks. "Not… exactly. But I know what to do. If you want to."
"Do you want me to?" Lugano, who only minutes before had violently ripped apart Diego's jeans, sounded concerned all of a sudden.
"Yes," Diego said, wishing he didn't sound so hoarse. "I want you to." Of course he was nervous, but Lugano didn't have to know that.
"You don't want to wait?"
Diego chuckled. "I've waited long enough. Come on."
They got rid of the remains of their clothes on the way to the bedroom but Diego forced himself not to waste too much time staring at Lugano when he had other, more urgent needs to satisfy. A moment later, he produced a pack of condoms and a tube of lube from his bedside table.
Lugano gave him a strange look, and Diego almost felt awkward about being so prepared.
"So you didn't plan this, huh?" the defender said with a chuckle.
Diego blushed, even though Lugano was only teasing him. "No. I… I just wanted to know how it feels to… you know."
"How did you find out?" Lugano sat on the bed, fingering the tube of lube. It was open and half-empty.
Diego swallowed, embarrassed at the subject. "I didn't really find out properly. I… used my fingers."
"How did that feel?"
Diego smiled at the memory. "Strange at first. But it got better."
Lugano nodded. He opened the tube and spread some of the transparent liquid on his fingers. "Want me to?"
Diego laughed. "That would be nice. I don't think I could do this if you don't loosen me up a little."
"Fuck," Lugano said, chuckling awkwardly. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this."
"You?" Diego snorted. "How can you not be ready? Don't you want to-"
"I want to," Lugano interrupted him, "I just…" A thought seemed to occur to him. "Are you sure you're not just offering this as some kind of proof? Because… I'm sorry about what I said to you. About not trusting you."
Diego shook his head. "This isn't proof. This is what I want. I told you I like you too much, so you have to accept it when I ask you to do reckless things." He smiled. "So, if I lie down now, what are you going to do?"
Lugano pulled Diego into a kiss. "Do you honestly think I could say no to this? To you?" Lugano slowly ran a finger down Diego's chest and abs. "You don't seem to know me well."
"Not well enough," Diego said as he lay down on the bed, pushing a pillow underneath his hips and spreading his legs. "Come on."
When Lugano's finger entered him, cool and slick with lube, it took some effort for Diego to stay relaxed. He still hadn't quite gotten used to this first penetration, but Lugano was moving slowly, gently, carefully. Diego bit his lip. He could do this.
The second time Lugano pushed forward, it was easier, and the third time was easier still. The fourth time, it started feeling good. A tingling sensation spread in his stomach, and Diego opened up wider. "Yes, like that," he panted, "come on, deeper…"
Lugano complied, and when he added another finger, Diego bit his lip, not with discomfort but with pleasure. He didn't know what had just happened, but he knew that something inside him was responding to the touch, sending little jolts of electricity through him.
"You like that?" Lugano sounded almost surprised.
"Yes," Diego panted, pushing his ass up. "Go faster!"
Lugano swallowed audibly. "Fuck, if you make me do this for much longer, I'm going to come right here and now." He dug his fingers into Diego again, making him shudder with pleasure. "You should see yourself. Fucking hell…"
Diego laughed, but all that came out was a series of gasps. "You should feel yourself," he said, then groaned out again as Lugano brushed his fingers against the particularly sensitive spot inside him again. "Fuck…"
Finally, Lugano pulled out. "I hope this is enough, I can't wait anymore." He grabbed a condom and quickly put it on before spreading some more lube on it.
"It should be enough, just go slowly, okay?"
"I'll try." Lugano positioned himself between Diego's spread legs. "Ready?"
"Yes."
Diego bit his lip as he felt Lugano's weight shift on top of him, and almost got cold feet as the tip of Lugano's dick pressed against him, feeling unnaturally huge all of a sudden. But he kept quiet, bracing himself for the impact.
When Lugano entered him, it hurt. Diego knew that Lugano was going slowly, but his dick was no comparison to a couple of fingers, and he wasn't used to this. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to breathe deeply and to stay relaxed.
Lugano seemed to sense his discomfort. "I'm hurting you," he said, moving to pull out, but Diego put an arm around himself to stop him.
"Keep going," he panted through his gritted teeth, "it'll get better."
A couple of slow thrusts later, the pain got bearable, and it didn't take long until it faded completely and Diego could finally feel Lugano moving inside him properly, gasping with every thrust, as if he was doing his best to hold himself back. He never thought he could feel like this. Never thought anyone could make him feel like this. Every time Lugano thrust into him, it felt better. His entire body seemed to be on edge, his skin tingling all over, making him shudder. He didn't even need to touch himself to feel pleasure. And when Lugano found that spot inside him again, Diego nearly saw stars.
"Holy fuck, do that again," he moaned, then moaned again when Lugano complied.
It was the last coherent thing he managed to say before Lugano increased his speed and the force of his thrusts and reduced Diego to a sobbing, groaning mess, making him jerk and shiver and spasm and feel like he was dying, like his heart was stopping, or exploding in his chest, and the rest of him with it.
Not much later, Lugano cried out behind him, digging his fingernails into Diego's hips as he moved faster against him, groaning gutturally. It was enough for Diego's orgasm to finally hit him, and he almost blacked out from the intensity of it, his entire body convulsing and twitching as he came harder than ever before in his life, choking out a cry before collapsing into the sheets.
He might like Lugano too much, Diego realised as he opened his eyes again and found his captain next to him, radiating warmth, a smile on his face and an arm around Diego's waist, fingers stroking softly across his sweaty skin. But then Lugano bent forward to kiss him again, softly moving his lips against Diego's and gently caressing Diego's tongue with his, Diego realised he wasn't alone in this mess.
Because Lugano liked him way too much, too.