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Recipient:
aeroporto
Title: 4 Times Darren Fletcher Spoke Before Thinking (And the One Time Alan Smith Did)
Rating: Pg-13
Characters: Alan Smith, Darren Fletcher, mentions of other Manchester United Players
Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own.
A/N: The first bit is a tad angsty, but nothing too bad. It took me forever to get my Darren working right, but now he is so I hope you enjoy!
1.
"So, next International break will be coming up soon."
"I suppose it is."
"Are you excited?" Darren asked. He bounced a bit in his chair, knowing full well that Alan couldn’t chastise him because he couldn’t see him. He grinned at that thought. "There’s a chance we might still qualify for the Euros...we’re not such a bad team this year and the coach has really good faith in us!"
"Great. Do you think you’ll start?"
"Hope so. I’ve been working on my shooting lately. You should see it! Wazza’s been helping me a lot at training." Darren paused as an idea popped into his head. "Hey! Why don’t you come up to Scotland with me this break? It could be a mini holiday! We can even watch England’s game together!"
"I might be called up."
"Oh, yeah...suppose so. Didn’t think of that!"
"Fuck. Thanks a lot, Fletch."
"‘M sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it! Smudge? Smudge?" Darren sighed as he heard the unmistakable dial tone on the other end. "Fuck."
2.
"Holidays are coming up, lads!" Rio announced as he walked into the dressing room after training late in April. "How’re we going to celebrate this year? Ideas?"
"Bonfire?"
"Boring!"
"And lame, Pat!" Wes tapped his chin thoughtfully. "How about poker night at Giggsy’s house again?"
Ryan’s head snapped up and his eyes went wide.
"Oh no! Not again!" he protested, shaking his head. "I’m still cleaning up that mess from last time and I really don’t want to know why there’s a stain on the couch where Rio and Vida were sitting most of the night!"
"I told you. Rio have little accident."
"Ugh."
"Any other ideas?"
"Pool party?"
"Where?"
"Ronnie’s house?" Darren suggested with a slight shrug.
"No! No one is making mess at my house! Last time you were there, Fletch, you knock over lamp and break it!"
Darren leapt to his feet to stand in front of Cristiano. He poked the winger in his chest, frowning.
"I did not break the lamp! Alan knocked into it when he was trying to get out of his pants and his foot got stuck and then I tried to grab him and I missed him and fell onto the chair and Alan tripped! But it wasn’t my fault!"
Everyone stopped to stare at the Scot.
"Um, Fletch?" Wayne finally ventured to ask, "Why was Alan taking off his pants at Ronnie’s house?"
Darren’s cheeks flushed.
"Oh..."
"Oh no! Now I have to clean all furniture!" Cristiano wailed, his hands coming up to clutch at his hair.
"Fletch?"
"Yes?"
"Sometimes it’s just better to keep your mouth shut," Wes advised.
"Right. I’ll remember that."
3.
"Alan!"
Alan sighed and counted to five before turning to face the man that the whining voice belonged to. Only fifty minutes of shopping with Darren and already he was whining. This was not a good sign.
"What’s wrong, Fletch?"
"I just wanted to let you know that I really don’t want to go as Romeo and Juliet," Darren told him and pointed to the costumes in Alan’s hands.
Alan stared at the clothes.
"Why not? Don’t you think I’d be a hot Romeo?"
"Well yes, but..."
"What?"
"Do I really have to be Juliet?"
"Yes."
Darren frowned.
"The dress is in your size, Fletch! It won’t fit me."
"Well...dammit I’m not wearing tights with it!"
"...okay..."
"Last time I wore them I couldn’t get them off and it was horrible!"
Alan raised his eyebrows and stared.
"When did you ever wear tights?"
"Err...it was a long time ago..."
Alan continued to stare as he placed the costumes back on the rack.
"Let’s just think of a different costume then."
"Good idea!"
4.
Darren wrinkled his nose as he walked into Alan’s house.
"Ugh, what’s that smell? Did something die?"
"No." Alan poked his head out the kitchen door, a frown on his face and a baking tray in one hand. "I’m cooking us dinner!"
"Oh." Darren bit his lip and looked around for a good place to hide. "Smells good!"
Alan only glared before slamming the kitchen door.
5.
"Alan?"
"Hmm?"
"Alan...wake up." Darren rolled his eyes as the smaller man only buried himself further under the covers. He poked at him. "Smudge!"
"Wha?"
"Wake up! It’s-" Darren paused to look at the alarm clock next to the bed. "It’s eight thirty! Rise and shine!"
Alan groaned and rolled over, throwing his arm across Darren’s chest and snuggling closer. He hid a grin as Darren protested and tried to shove him off.
"Smudge!"
"Mmm, don’t move. Too comfortable," Alan mumbled, his face buried into Darren’s shoulder.
"Alan," Darren sighed as he tired to shove the smaller man off again. "I need to catch my plane at nine thirty, remember? Get up!"
"Don’t leave."
"I have to get back for the first day of training! Ferguson will kill me if I’m not there." He shoved yet again and succeeded in removing Alan’s arm from his body. "C’mon, Alan! Up!"
"Am comfortable and warm," Alan protested with another groan, "Want you here."
Darren sighed and ran a hand through Alan’s short blond hair.
Why? So I can be your pillow?" he teased.
"Mm, no." Alan buried his face further into Darren’s shoulder and added sleepily, "Love you."
Darren froze.
"Huh?"
"Fuck."
Alan’s head popped up and he stared at Darren, cheeks pale.
"Did you just-"
"I didn’t want-"
"Do you mean-"
"Fuck, I wanted to say it when we were both-"
"I love you too, Alan."
"Oh." Alan smiled shyly and he once again placed his head on Darren’s shoulder. "I love you," he repeated.
Darren grinned.
"But I really do need to catch my plane..."
aeroporto
Title: 4 Times Darren Fletcher Spoke Before Thinking (And the One Time Alan Smith Did)
Rating: Pg-13
Characters: Alan Smith, Darren Fletcher, mentions of other Manchester United Players
Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own.
A/N: The first bit is a tad angsty, but nothing too bad. It took me forever to get my Darren working right, but now he is so I hope you enjoy!
1.
"So, next International break will be coming up soon."
"I suppose it is."
"Are you excited?" Darren asked. He bounced a bit in his chair, knowing full well that Alan couldn’t chastise him because he couldn’t see him. He grinned at that thought. "There’s a chance we might still qualify for the Euros...we’re not such a bad team this year and the coach has really good faith in us!"
"Great. Do you think you’ll start?"
"Hope so. I’ve been working on my shooting lately. You should see it! Wazza’s been helping me a lot at training." Darren paused as an idea popped into his head. "Hey! Why don’t you come up to Scotland with me this break? It could be a mini holiday! We can even watch England’s game together!"
"I might be called up."
"Oh, yeah...suppose so. Didn’t think of that!"
"Fuck. Thanks a lot, Fletch."
"‘M sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it! Smudge? Smudge?" Darren sighed as he heard the unmistakable dial tone on the other end. "Fuck."
2.
"Holidays are coming up, lads!" Rio announced as he walked into the dressing room after training late in April. "How’re we going to celebrate this year? Ideas?"
"Bonfire?"
"Boring!"
"And lame, Pat!" Wes tapped his chin thoughtfully. "How about poker night at Giggsy’s house again?"
Ryan’s head snapped up and his eyes went wide.
"Oh no! Not again!" he protested, shaking his head. "I’m still cleaning up that mess from last time and I really don’t want to know why there’s a stain on the couch where Rio and Vida were sitting most of the night!"
"I told you. Rio have little accident."
"Ugh."
"Any other ideas?"
"Pool party?"
"Where?"
"Ronnie’s house?" Darren suggested with a slight shrug.
"No! No one is making mess at my house! Last time you were there, Fletch, you knock over lamp and break it!"
Darren leapt to his feet to stand in front of Cristiano. He poked the winger in his chest, frowning.
"I did not break the lamp! Alan knocked into it when he was trying to get out of his pants and his foot got stuck and then I tried to grab him and I missed him and fell onto the chair and Alan tripped! But it wasn’t my fault!"
Everyone stopped to stare at the Scot.
"Um, Fletch?" Wayne finally ventured to ask, "Why was Alan taking off his pants at Ronnie’s house?"
Darren’s cheeks flushed.
"Oh..."
"Oh no! Now I have to clean all furniture!" Cristiano wailed, his hands coming up to clutch at his hair.
"Fletch?"
"Yes?"
"Sometimes it’s just better to keep your mouth shut," Wes advised.
"Right. I’ll remember that."
3.
"Alan!"
Alan sighed and counted to five before turning to face the man that the whining voice belonged to. Only fifty minutes of shopping with Darren and already he was whining. This was not a good sign.
"What’s wrong, Fletch?"
"I just wanted to let you know that I really don’t want to go as Romeo and Juliet," Darren told him and pointed to the costumes in Alan’s hands.
Alan stared at the clothes.
"Why not? Don’t you think I’d be a hot Romeo?"
"Well yes, but..."
"What?"
"Do I really have to be Juliet?"
"Yes."
Darren frowned.
"The dress is in your size, Fletch! It won’t fit me."
"Well...dammit I’m not wearing tights with it!"
"...okay..."
"Last time I wore them I couldn’t get them off and it was horrible!"
Alan raised his eyebrows and stared.
"When did you ever wear tights?"
"Err...it was a long time ago..."
Alan continued to stare as he placed the costumes back on the rack.
"Let’s just think of a different costume then."
"Good idea!"
4.
Darren wrinkled his nose as he walked into Alan’s house.
"Ugh, what’s that smell? Did something die?"
"No." Alan poked his head out the kitchen door, a frown on his face and a baking tray in one hand. "I’m cooking us dinner!"
"Oh." Darren bit his lip and looked around for a good place to hide. "Smells good!"
Alan only glared before slamming the kitchen door.
5.
"Alan?"
"Hmm?"
"Alan...wake up." Darren rolled his eyes as the smaller man only buried himself further under the covers. He poked at him. "Smudge!"
"Wha?"
"Wake up! It’s-" Darren paused to look at the alarm clock next to the bed. "It’s eight thirty! Rise and shine!"
Alan groaned and rolled over, throwing his arm across Darren’s chest and snuggling closer. He hid a grin as Darren protested and tried to shove him off.
"Smudge!"
"Mmm, don’t move. Too comfortable," Alan mumbled, his face buried into Darren’s shoulder.
"Alan," Darren sighed as he tired to shove the smaller man off again. "I need to catch my plane at nine thirty, remember? Get up!"
"Don’t leave."
"I have to get back for the first day of training! Ferguson will kill me if I’m not there." He shoved yet again and succeeded in removing Alan’s arm from his body. "C’mon, Alan! Up!"
"Am comfortable and warm," Alan protested with another groan, "Want you here."
Darren sighed and ran a hand through Alan’s short blond hair.
Why? So I can be your pillow?" he teased.
"Mm, no." Alan buried his face further into Darren’s shoulder and added sleepily, "Love you."
Darren froze.
"Huh?"
"Fuck."
Alan’s head popped up and he stared at Darren, cheeks pale.
"Did you just-"
"I didn’t want-"
"Do you mean-"
"Fuck, I wanted to say it when we were both-"
"I love you too, Alan."
"Oh." Alan smiled shyly and he once again placed his head on Darren’s shoulder. "I love you," he repeated.
Darren grinned.
"But I really do need to catch my plane..."