Cornadas. (Sergio and Rene Ramos)
Title: Cornadas
Characters: Sergio Ramos, Rene Ramos
Rating: PG
Warnings: If you breath in very very very deeply, you might be able to taste the slightest of slight tastes of hinted incest on the back of your tongue. Perhaps.
A/N: going back on my journal to try and get all of the abandoned and unwritten fics sorted out, I discovered this and realized I never posted it in public. So this was written on the 10th June, 2010 and is set way back in the past when Sergio was still a boy and not with Madrid for long. ... Also, as ever so often, what exactly this is I do not know.
„It’s such a pity that you’re a professional athlete now, you know that? … I can’t even try anymore to console you with alcohol, cigarettes or other drugs without feeling guilty about it …”
Rene smiled lowly, smiled one of his knowing and sad smiles. His footsteps' sounds were so light on the veranda, the wooden floor barely creaked when he sat down on the steps next to his little brother. He swung an arm around Sergio’s shoulder, a warm and heavy weight that was dearly welcome.
Sergio bit back the sob curling upwards in his throat, more urgently so when he felt Rene placing his hand at his cheek to carefully pull Sergio’s head down until it rested comfortably against Rene’s shoulder.
“Then again, these things have never been your ways to deal with problems, have they? … You always preferred the warmth of men to calm your storms…”
When Sergio curled down into his lap, Rene followed his movements, letting his voice curl out over Sergio’s ear now.
“Sweet fragile little brother … If there’s anything I can do for you …”
Sergio made another small sound for that, feeling safe and warm in Rene’s arms, feeling as tightly cradled as his brother had used to do it back in the days in Sevilla, hugging and hushing nightmares and bad marks and rough days on the field away. Now, here in Madrid, Sergio had thought himself old enough to handle these problems on his own, had thought himself strong enough and brave enough to face life with all its tiny, hurtful details. Even these had seemed so glorious here, overshadowed by the blinding white light of Real.
But even here he was dependent on his brother’s securing arms as tonight had proven it, even here with this strange thunder and lightning in his mind keeping him from seeing clearly, thinking, and all of these scratches carved deep into his heart day after day; scratches left there unintentionally and therefore twice as deep and hurtful.
“Can you make them see me? Can you make … can you make him really see me? Recognize me for who I am?”
Sergio whispered, his breath ghosting across his own fingers which were tightly clawed into the soft cotton of Rene’s shirt, his breath catching in his throat only once.
Still burrying his head in his brother's lap, the flash of anguish shadowing over Rene's eyes went unnoticed by the younger brother.
“I wish I could make him see you like I see you. … I wish I could make him feel the way about you that I feel about you… but I can’t, Sergio. I couldn't. ... You’ll have to wait until he recognizes it all by himself. Don’t pressure him, don’t trouble yourself. ... It's going to be alright. We're going to be okay …”
His brother’s hands were as calming and soothing as his voice was, rubbing small circles into Sergio’s back, trying to rub some love, some affection into Sergio's aching self . But that night was the first time ever that Sergio lay in Rene’s comforting arms and yet the comfort his brother usually provided wasn’t enough to calm his inner storms.
Not at all. For the first time ever, Sergio was craving more.
+ 'Cornadas' is the Spanish word for the wounds of a bullfighter caused by a bull's horn. ... Don't google it, it's not pretty. + I leave the 'he' reference up for interpretation though of course I'm envisioning a particularly gifted keeper here. But ship what you'd like to ship. ;)
Characters: Sergio Ramos, Rene Ramos
Rating: PG
Warnings: If you breath in very very very deeply, you might be able to taste the slightest of slight tastes of hinted incest on the back of your tongue. Perhaps.
A/N: going back on my journal to try and get all of the abandoned and unwritten fics sorted out, I discovered this and realized I never posted it in public. So this was written on the 10th June, 2010 and is set way back in the past when Sergio was still a boy and not with Madrid for long. ... Also, as ever so often, what exactly this is I do not know.
„It’s such a pity that you’re a professional athlete now, you know that? … I can’t even try anymore to console you with alcohol, cigarettes or other drugs without feeling guilty about it …”
Rene smiled lowly, smiled one of his knowing and sad smiles. His footsteps' sounds were so light on the veranda, the wooden floor barely creaked when he sat down on the steps next to his little brother. He swung an arm around Sergio’s shoulder, a warm and heavy weight that was dearly welcome.
Sergio bit back the sob curling upwards in his throat, more urgently so when he felt Rene placing his hand at his cheek to carefully pull Sergio’s head down until it rested comfortably against Rene’s shoulder.
“Then again, these things have never been your ways to deal with problems, have they? … You always preferred the warmth of men to calm your storms…”
When Sergio curled down into his lap, Rene followed his movements, letting his voice curl out over Sergio’s ear now.
“Sweet fragile little brother … If there’s anything I can do for you …”
Sergio made another small sound for that, feeling safe and warm in Rene’s arms, feeling as tightly cradled as his brother had used to do it back in the days in Sevilla, hugging and hushing nightmares and bad marks and rough days on the field away. Now, here in Madrid, Sergio had thought himself old enough to handle these problems on his own, had thought himself strong enough and brave enough to face life with all its tiny, hurtful details. Even these had seemed so glorious here, overshadowed by the blinding white light of Real.
But even here he was dependent on his brother’s securing arms as tonight had proven it, even here with this strange thunder and lightning in his mind keeping him from seeing clearly, thinking, and all of these scratches carved deep into his heart day after day; scratches left there unintentionally and therefore twice as deep and hurtful.
“Can you make them see me? Can you make … can you make him really see me? Recognize me for who I am?”
Sergio whispered, his breath ghosting across his own fingers which were tightly clawed into the soft cotton of Rene’s shirt, his breath catching in his throat only once.
Still burrying his head in his brother's lap, the flash of anguish shadowing over Rene's eyes went unnoticed by the younger brother.
“I wish I could make him see you like I see you. … I wish I could make him feel the way about you that I feel about you… but I can’t, Sergio. I couldn't. ... You’ll have to wait until he recognizes it all by himself. Don’t pressure him, don’t trouble yourself. ... It's going to be alright. We're going to be okay …”
His brother’s hands were as calming and soothing as his voice was, rubbing small circles into Sergio’s back, trying to rub some love, some affection into Sergio's aching self . But that night was the first time ever that Sergio lay in Rene’s comforting arms and yet the comfort his brother usually provided wasn’t enough to calm his inner storms.
Not at all. For the first time ever, Sergio was craving more.
+ 'Cornadas' is the Spanish word for the wounds of a bullfighter caused by a bull's horn. ... Don't google it, it's not pretty. + I leave the 'he' reference up for interpretation though of course I'm envisioning a particularly gifted keeper here. But ship what you'd like to ship. ;)