Rooms, Doors, Walls
Title: Rooms, Doors, Walls
Pairings: Higuain/Messi
Rated: PG
WC: 1016
Disclaimer: Not true
Summary: …but when he’s sitting here with a controller in his hand in some small little hotel in the middle of nowhere, he’s just a short, little awkward kid. The outside world doesn’t have to exist in this room if they don’t want it to
For greenpixiehair Not exactly what we were going for but I just couldn't make smut happen >.<
They don’t meet up very often when they’re both in Spain. When they’re on National duty together, it’s easy to sneak into a single room or find a way to room together. But in Spain, they find themselves stealing away into the shadows on the rare days off that overlap.
It’s not the type of place you would notice. A normal hotel a few miles back from the highway on the outskirts of Zaragoza, secluded and off the beaten track. The owner of the hotel is an old woman named Leti who knits, always has a glass of wine close by and doesn’t know the difference between a football and tennis ball- she has no idea who Gonzalo is, just that he comes once a month on ‘business’. Or maybe it’s to see family who live nearby. She doesn’t ask many questions, only tells him that he needs to eat more. He finds that ironic.
“He’s already here,” she tells him when he shows up late one night, the rain slowing him down. “Your brother,” she clarifies, “checked in a few hours ago. Well, I assume he’s your brother, he’s foreign too. Is he old enough to drive? Looks like a little boy.”
“Uh, yeah, my brother.” He hopes she doesn’t come anywhere near their room or she’ll be shocked at the type of activities he and his ‘brother’ are up to.
He wishes her a good night before taking his key and getting back in his car. It’s not actually his car- it’s a plain, non-descript car from a rental agency. He parks it next to the other plain, non-descript car at the end of the lot and quickly gets out, grabbing his bag and running through the rain to the last room on the ground floor. Sliding in the key, he waits for the electric key reader to turn green before opening the door.
Leo doesn’t even look up, he’s too engrossed with playing FIFA 11 on the Xbox he’s brought with him. He’s wearing one of those damn beanies that he’s so fond of, Gonzalo can’t stand them, and in jeans and a hoodie with sleeves that are too long; it’s easy to see why Leti thinks he’s just a child. Gonzalo watches him, bent over the controller, legs hanging off the side of the bed, not long enough to reach the floor, fingers deftly controlling the movement of the players on the screen. It brings a small smile to his face to see that Leo is playing as him.
“I brought two controllers,” Leo mutters after a few minutes, “you can play you know.”
“It’s not really what I came here for.”
The controller stills in Leo’s hand. Shaking his head, he turns off the Xbox and turns to face Gonzalo, a sheepish grin on his face. Even though Leo is technically older, Gonzalo always feels like he’s the more serious one. Leo’s one of the most famous footballers in the world, but when he’s sitting here with a controller in his hand in some small little hotel in the middle of nowhere, he’s just a short, little awkward kid. The outside world doesn’t have to exist in this room if they don’t want it to, they can hide here and pretend. In this room they’ve constructed their own world. In this room, Leo is just another kid.
He’s not a kid though. Leo carries a burden a lot of people don’t see. It’s probably because most people don’t see past his idle and often vacant smiles and petulant pouts. They don’t see the walls Leo has constructed around him, painting the outside to camouflage the inside. Gonzalo wonders what it’s like to be a man masquerading in a boy’s body.
Leo scoots over and Gonzalo comes to sit next to him, flopping down so his feet are on the floor as he lies on the bed. His hand comes to rest on Leo’s knee and Leo smiles down at him before quietly lowering himself to the bed, curling up next to Gonzalo. They don’t speak for a long time, enjoying the simple moment of being together without cameras, fans, coaches, teammates, anyone in the way. He pulls off the beanie and finds his hand twisting through Leo’s hair; he enjoys the way Leo moves against him when he plays with his hair, it’s almost feline. He likes the way his hand smells like oranges, like Leo’s shampoo afterward.
“A web cam model… you’re lucky they hushed that up as quickly as they did,” he finally says and Leo stops moving and looks away.
“It wasn’t as bad as they made it out to be,” Leo mutters, sitting up and turning the Xbox back on; the walls come crashing down. “They just wanted money. That’s all they ever want.”
Gonzalo studies Leo as the game starts up again. He watches as Leo picks a random team in the EPL, a team with players that they have no connections to. His mother used to tell him to succeed in a relationship you have to break down walls. He can’t break down Leo’s walls. Instead he’s constructed doorways and halls to pass through them but every once in a while, a door is locked or a hallway caves in.
“Did you really ask her to do a little turn?”
“Did you watch the video?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you know the answer.”
“Most guys would ask a girl to take their top off, not do a turn.” But you’re not most guys.
“I wanted to see if her ass was as nice as yours.” Leo says absentmindedly and he flushes as he realizes he’s just said the last bit aloud.
“Was it?”
Leo pauses the game. As he looks Gonzalo in the eye, Gonzalo sees the embarrassment in Leo’s sloped shoulders and the way he hangs his head.
“No.”
Laughing, Gonzalo takes the controller from Leo, shuts the Xbox down, and places the controller on the table. Leaning over, he pulls a still red Leo into his arms and presses their lips together. Sometimes you just have to know where the secret passages are.
Pairings: Higuain/Messi
Rated: PG
WC: 1016
Disclaimer: Not true
Summary: …but when he’s sitting here with a controller in his hand in some small little hotel in the middle of nowhere, he’s just a short, little awkward kid. The outside world doesn’t have to exist in this room if they don’t want it to
For greenpixiehair Not exactly what we were going for but I just couldn't make smut happen >.<
They don’t meet up very often when they’re both in Spain. When they’re on National duty together, it’s easy to sneak into a single room or find a way to room together. But in Spain, they find themselves stealing away into the shadows on the rare days off that overlap.
It’s not the type of place you would notice. A normal hotel a few miles back from the highway on the outskirts of Zaragoza, secluded and off the beaten track. The owner of the hotel is an old woman named Leti who knits, always has a glass of wine close by and doesn’t know the difference between a football and tennis ball- she has no idea who Gonzalo is, just that he comes once a month on ‘business’. Or maybe it’s to see family who live nearby. She doesn’t ask many questions, only tells him that he needs to eat more. He finds that ironic.
“He’s already here,” she tells him when he shows up late one night, the rain slowing him down. “Your brother,” she clarifies, “checked in a few hours ago. Well, I assume he’s your brother, he’s foreign too. Is he old enough to drive? Looks like a little boy.”
“Uh, yeah, my brother.” He hopes she doesn’t come anywhere near their room or she’ll be shocked at the type of activities he and his ‘brother’ are up to.
He wishes her a good night before taking his key and getting back in his car. It’s not actually his car- it’s a plain, non-descript car from a rental agency. He parks it next to the other plain, non-descript car at the end of the lot and quickly gets out, grabbing his bag and running through the rain to the last room on the ground floor. Sliding in the key, he waits for the electric key reader to turn green before opening the door.
Leo doesn’t even look up, he’s too engrossed with playing FIFA 11 on the Xbox he’s brought with him. He’s wearing one of those damn beanies that he’s so fond of, Gonzalo can’t stand them, and in jeans and a hoodie with sleeves that are too long; it’s easy to see why Leti thinks he’s just a child. Gonzalo watches him, bent over the controller, legs hanging off the side of the bed, not long enough to reach the floor, fingers deftly controlling the movement of the players on the screen. It brings a small smile to his face to see that Leo is playing as him.
“I brought two controllers,” Leo mutters after a few minutes, “you can play you know.”
“It’s not really what I came here for.”
The controller stills in Leo’s hand. Shaking his head, he turns off the Xbox and turns to face Gonzalo, a sheepish grin on his face. Even though Leo is technically older, Gonzalo always feels like he’s the more serious one. Leo’s one of the most famous footballers in the world, but when he’s sitting here with a controller in his hand in some small little hotel in the middle of nowhere, he’s just a short, little awkward kid. The outside world doesn’t have to exist in this room if they don’t want it to, they can hide here and pretend. In this room they’ve constructed their own world. In this room, Leo is just another kid.
He’s not a kid though. Leo carries a burden a lot of people don’t see. It’s probably because most people don’t see past his idle and often vacant smiles and petulant pouts. They don’t see the walls Leo has constructed around him, painting the outside to camouflage the inside. Gonzalo wonders what it’s like to be a man masquerading in a boy’s body.
Leo scoots over and Gonzalo comes to sit next to him, flopping down so his feet are on the floor as he lies on the bed. His hand comes to rest on Leo’s knee and Leo smiles down at him before quietly lowering himself to the bed, curling up next to Gonzalo. They don’t speak for a long time, enjoying the simple moment of being together without cameras, fans, coaches, teammates, anyone in the way. He pulls off the beanie and finds his hand twisting through Leo’s hair; he enjoys the way Leo moves against him when he plays with his hair, it’s almost feline. He likes the way his hand smells like oranges, like Leo’s shampoo afterward.
“A web cam model… you’re lucky they hushed that up as quickly as they did,” he finally says and Leo stops moving and looks away.
“It wasn’t as bad as they made it out to be,” Leo mutters, sitting up and turning the Xbox back on; the walls come crashing down. “They just wanted money. That’s all they ever want.”
Gonzalo studies Leo as the game starts up again. He watches as Leo picks a random team in the EPL, a team with players that they have no connections to. His mother used to tell him to succeed in a relationship you have to break down walls. He can’t break down Leo’s walls. Instead he’s constructed doorways and halls to pass through them but every once in a while, a door is locked or a hallway caves in.
“Did you really ask her to do a little turn?”
“Did you watch the video?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you know the answer.”
“Most guys would ask a girl to take their top off, not do a turn.” But you’re not most guys.
“I wanted to see if her ass was as nice as yours.” Leo says absentmindedly and he flushes as he realizes he’s just said the last bit aloud.
“Was it?”
Leo pauses the game. As he looks Gonzalo in the eye, Gonzalo sees the embarrassment in Leo’s sloped shoulders and the way he hangs his head.
“No.”
Laughing, Gonzalo takes the controller from Leo, shuts the Xbox down, and places the controller on the table. Leaning over, he pulls a still red Leo into his arms and presses their lips together. Sometimes you just have to know where the secret passages are.