When Adam Realized
Title: When Adam Realized
Rating: PG
Pairing: AdamJohnson/DavidSilva, Villa/Silva (Mentioned)
Warning: Fluffy schmoopiness.
Disclaimer: This isn't true. Well, the awesome hug part is, but the rest is a lie. Or maybe I'm psychic
Summary: Four drabbles depicting the first meeting, a heart break, realizing you're falling for someone, and a first kiss.
So I realize I'm going OTP hell for writing about Silva with someone other than Villa, but after today's match and remembering Adam hugging Silva from the West Ham match, this was totally begging to be written. Yes, I know I'm a horrible person and this isn't even that good, but hopefully this evil writing tic will go away and I can return to Silva/Villa angst/happiness. Please don't kill me.
When Adam Realized
Dirty Thoughts
Before they met, Adam’s 23 year old mind pictured David Silva as a confident player, who was half of the infamous Valencian David’s, and had a collection of pretty significant medals and trophies. No one else at Manchester City had a World Cup in their possession, unless they had nicked it from someone. Oh wait, Vieira did. Ugh, now Adam was never going to start a match, not with the new and expensive midfielders.
Mancini had stressed how they all needed to make the newest acquisitions feel welcome and comfortable. Listening to their Coach talk, one would think that the City boys were going to drive the new signings away with their frightening behavior or something. Adam rolled his eyes and mentally made a note to not bring the torches and pitchfork into work. They weren’t nearly as bad as some of those Newcastle boys. No risk of being beaten up by one of your teammates in Manchester City… er, well not since Joey Barton was one of those Newcastle Boys now.
Adam’s first thought upon finally meeting David was that he was a lot smaller than Adam thought he would be. He had read how the Spanish Coach thought the Premiere League would toughen David up, but Adam wasn’t really sure you could toughen someone so fragile looking up without breaking them. The second thought Adam had was that for someone who should have been cocky about just winning the World Cup, David seemed to be awfully shy and timid. Hm, perhaps he was afraid Nigel De Jong had some hell bent obsession with karate kicking Spaniards in the chest.
“Hi, I’m Adam,” he had introduced himself with grin.
“I am glad to meet you,” David had stumbled over his heavily accented words and offered a shy smile.
“I hope you like it here.”
David had blinked, and then quickly turned to Carlos, who fired off a quick translation. David nodded and responded in Spanish. Carlos translated back into English, but Adam was already onto his third thought- Spanish sounded like seduction coming from David’s lips. That’s when Adam realized David Silva made him think dirty thoughts.
Standing Heartbroken
International week had not gone well for England or Spain. When David returned from Portugal after Spains 0-4 loss, it was evident to everyone that he was not in his normally genial mood. Normally wearing a smile or look of extreme concentration, David had returned with a frown on his lips and defeat in his eyes. Adam thought there might be another problem bugging David when the Spanish player barely spoke to Carlos. He knew there was something wrong when he witnessed his fellow midfielder check the messages on his phone and subsequently chuck it into the garbage can as he furiously wiped at his eyes.
After training together nearly everyday for a few months, Adam had picked up on the fact that there was only one person whose calls could make David simultaneously sad and angry. Adam was nearly positive that he was the only person who knew David was heartbroken. Finding out had been 95% luck and 5% not being Helen Keller.
Barcelona had been playing while Adam was eating lunch with David and Carlos one day and David had been watching rapt with attention. A grin broke out across his face as Villa scored but quickly dropped off as Leo Messi wrapped Villa in his arms and planted a kiss on his temple. Carlos said something about Messi and Argentina in Spanish and David nodded with a stilted laugh and fake smile. When Carlos turned away, a grimace came onto David’s face as he looked down at his lunch.
“Do you miss playing with him?” Adam had asked; David jerked in his seat as if he had forgotten Adam was sitting there.
“Yes, but,” David paused, and Adam knew he was trying to remember the right words to say, “but our connection is gone. Broken. Too long time apart.”
It wasn’t until after he heard David crying when he thought he was alone in the locker room that night that Adam understood David really meant their love had grown apart. When David returned from Portugal and destroyed his mode of communication with Villa, Adam realized only Villa had grown apart- David was still standing heartbroken where he had been left.
Head Over Heels
When he watched the replay of the game against West Ham later that night, Adam saw the depth of David’s genius. Their eyes had locked briefly and instead of pushing through and taking a shot for himself, David had passed the ball to Adam with well executed ease and allowed Adam to score. The minute the ball entered the goal, Adam knew he had simply been in the right place at the right time. All credit for that goal belonged to the Spanish mastermind.
As the video continued, Adam became conscious of the fact that he barely remembered shaking away the congratulatory hands of his teammates as he pointed at David. What he did remember was the flushed grin on David’s face as the smaller man jumped into his arms. He remembered how illicit David’s body felt pressed up against his own, how his hand had wrapped about Adam’s waist and patted his lower back. And, he remembered with a smirk, hoping that in Barcelona, a certain someone would see this moment and be more jealous and sad than David had ever been. That was the moment Adam realized he was head over heels for David.
Big Stick
The locker room was all grins and cheers after the match. City had regained the top of the leader board and they were fiercely praying that Birmingham would hold off their cross town rivals. David had been named man of the match and accepted congratulations politely, but Adam knew that fake smile when he saw it. David was finally fitting in comfortably and Adam wanted the fake smile gone.
“Hey David, wait up!” Adam had dressed at record speed to catch up with the fast midfielder as he left the locker room to head home. “Do you… do you have plans tonight?” The smaller player took a few seconds to translate what Adam had said before shaking his head. “Do you want to go to the pub? We’ll celebrate; you are man of the match after all!”
“Who else is going?”
“Oh… err… I hadn’t asked anyone else,” Adam looked away from David’s sudden smile and willed himself not to blush. “Err… well… you know how some of them get when they drink too much.”
“Yes, I do know,” David scowled and Adam knew he was thinking of the few times drunken teammates thought it would be funny to pick up and carry around the smaller player. “So just you and me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” David smiled and Adam felt his knees go weak.
* * *
“Joder, I drink too much,” David moaned with a giggle, clutching Adam's arm for support as they stumbled back towards Adam’s flat.
“Me too,” Adam was laughing, in the phase of drunkenness where everything was funny. “I should pick you up and carry you!”
“I won’t say no to a back ride.”
Giggling, Adam bent over and allowed David to jump on his back. It took three awkwardly drunk times, but eventually the Spaniard had his arms around Adam’s shoulders and legs around his waist. David was making Adam think dirty thoughts again. They made it as far as the park before Adam stumbled and they took a tumble in the grass. Groaning and making sure nothing was hurt, they looked at each other before dissolving into laughter. Adam decided this was his favorite image of David, sprawled and laughing whilst drunk in a park with his hat askew and scarf barely hanging on.
“You are looking at me funny Adam,” David said with a blush when he quieted and Adam comprehended that he had been caught staring.
“Do you miss Spain?” Adam blurted out, alcohol removing his sensitivity filter and making him horribly blunt. At least he hadn’t asked about Villa.
“I will always miss Spain,” David answered with one of those sweet smiles that made Adam’s toes tingle. “Why?”
“You just seem a lot happier lately.”
“Oh…”
A look came onto David’s face right then, a look Adam had come to know quite well. It was the expression that overtook the smaller player after he quickly finished figuring and laying out a plan on the field. It was the look that occurred when everything clicked together and the light bulb went off.
“You meant to ask me if I am still sad about what happened when I left Spain,” David said slowly, rolling onto his side. “You want to know if I still miss him.” David frowned before a bashful grin came onto his face. “Ah, is that why you stare at me when you think no one notices? I thought Nigel, Yaya, and Carlos were making that up.”
“Uh…,” Adam stuttered; had he been that obvious? “Yes?”
“He is in the past,” David closed the space between them and reaching for Adam’s hand, shyly intertwined their fingers with a touch of drunken fumbling, “and I like that you are the one here now.”
Looking back, neither would say their first kiss was romantic as Adam was so nervous and drunk that he miscalculated how far apart they were and painfully knocked their heads together so that their lips barely brushed. Their second kiss however was the one bit of warmth and softness beneath the frozen sky that night. Later at Adam’s flat, after the kisses became too numerous to count and David was pressed into his side lightly snoring, Adam remembered what David said about their teammates catching him staring at David. The only way they would have noticed is if they were sizing up the competition as they stole glances at David. Adam frowned, realizing he needed a big stick to beat them all away with. His eyes drifted to the purple marks on David’s neck and shoulders. Maybe the hickies would be hint enough.
Comments are lovely
Rating: PG
Pairing: AdamJohnson/DavidSilva, Villa/Silva (Mentioned)
Warning: Fluffy schmoopiness.
Disclaimer: This isn't true. Well, the awesome hug part is, but the rest is a lie. Or maybe I'm psychic
Summary: Four drabbles depicting the first meeting, a heart break, realizing you're falling for someone, and a first kiss.
So I realize I'm going OTP hell for writing about Silva with someone other than Villa, but after today's match and remembering Adam hugging Silva from the West Ham match, this was totally begging to be written. Yes, I know I'm a horrible person and this isn't even that good, but hopefully this evil writing tic will go away and I can return to Silva/Villa angst/happiness. Please don't kill me.
When Adam Realized
Dirty Thoughts
Before they met, Adam’s 23 year old mind pictured David Silva as a confident player, who was half of the infamous Valencian David’s, and had a collection of pretty significant medals and trophies. No one else at Manchester City had a World Cup in their possession, unless they had nicked it from someone. Oh wait, Vieira did. Ugh, now Adam was never going to start a match, not with the new and expensive midfielders.
Mancini had stressed how they all needed to make the newest acquisitions feel welcome and comfortable. Listening to their Coach talk, one would think that the City boys were going to drive the new signings away with their frightening behavior or something. Adam rolled his eyes and mentally made a note to not bring the torches and pitchfork into work. They weren’t nearly as bad as some of those Newcastle boys. No risk of being beaten up by one of your teammates in Manchester City… er, well not since Joey Barton was one of those Newcastle Boys now.
Adam’s first thought upon finally meeting David was that he was a lot smaller than Adam thought he would be. He had read how the Spanish Coach thought the Premiere League would toughen David up, but Adam wasn’t really sure you could toughen someone so fragile looking up without breaking them. The second thought Adam had was that for someone who should have been cocky about just winning the World Cup, David seemed to be awfully shy and timid. Hm, perhaps he was afraid Nigel De Jong had some hell bent obsession with karate kicking Spaniards in the chest.
“Hi, I’m Adam,” he had introduced himself with grin.
“I am glad to meet you,” David had stumbled over his heavily accented words and offered a shy smile.
“I hope you like it here.”
David had blinked, and then quickly turned to Carlos, who fired off a quick translation. David nodded and responded in Spanish. Carlos translated back into English, but Adam was already onto his third thought- Spanish sounded like seduction coming from David’s lips. That’s when Adam realized David Silva made him think dirty thoughts.
Standing Heartbroken
International week had not gone well for England or Spain. When David returned from Portugal after Spains 0-4 loss, it was evident to everyone that he was not in his normally genial mood. Normally wearing a smile or look of extreme concentration, David had returned with a frown on his lips and defeat in his eyes. Adam thought there might be another problem bugging David when the Spanish player barely spoke to Carlos. He knew there was something wrong when he witnessed his fellow midfielder check the messages on his phone and subsequently chuck it into the garbage can as he furiously wiped at his eyes.
After training together nearly everyday for a few months, Adam had picked up on the fact that there was only one person whose calls could make David simultaneously sad and angry. Adam was nearly positive that he was the only person who knew David was heartbroken. Finding out had been 95% luck and 5% not being Helen Keller.
Barcelona had been playing while Adam was eating lunch with David and Carlos one day and David had been watching rapt with attention. A grin broke out across his face as Villa scored but quickly dropped off as Leo Messi wrapped Villa in his arms and planted a kiss on his temple. Carlos said something about Messi and Argentina in Spanish and David nodded with a stilted laugh and fake smile. When Carlos turned away, a grimace came onto David’s face as he looked down at his lunch.
“Do you miss playing with him?” Adam had asked; David jerked in his seat as if he had forgotten Adam was sitting there.
“Yes, but,” David paused, and Adam knew he was trying to remember the right words to say, “but our connection is gone. Broken. Too long time apart.”
It wasn’t until after he heard David crying when he thought he was alone in the locker room that night that Adam understood David really meant their love had grown apart. When David returned from Portugal and destroyed his mode of communication with Villa, Adam realized only Villa had grown apart- David was still standing heartbroken where he had been left.
Head Over Heels
When he watched the replay of the game against West Ham later that night, Adam saw the depth of David’s genius. Their eyes had locked briefly and instead of pushing through and taking a shot for himself, David had passed the ball to Adam with well executed ease and allowed Adam to score. The minute the ball entered the goal, Adam knew he had simply been in the right place at the right time. All credit for that goal belonged to the Spanish mastermind.
As the video continued, Adam became conscious of the fact that he barely remembered shaking away the congratulatory hands of his teammates as he pointed at David. What he did remember was the flushed grin on David’s face as the smaller man jumped into his arms. He remembered how illicit David’s body felt pressed up against his own, how his hand had wrapped about Adam’s waist and patted his lower back. And, he remembered with a smirk, hoping that in Barcelona, a certain someone would see this moment and be more jealous and sad than David had ever been. That was the moment Adam realized he was head over heels for David.
Big Stick
The locker room was all grins and cheers after the match. City had regained the top of the leader board and they were fiercely praying that Birmingham would hold off their cross town rivals. David had been named man of the match and accepted congratulations politely, but Adam knew that fake smile when he saw it. David was finally fitting in comfortably and Adam wanted the fake smile gone.
“Hey David, wait up!” Adam had dressed at record speed to catch up with the fast midfielder as he left the locker room to head home. “Do you… do you have plans tonight?” The smaller player took a few seconds to translate what Adam had said before shaking his head. “Do you want to go to the pub? We’ll celebrate; you are man of the match after all!”
“Who else is going?”
“Oh… err… I hadn’t asked anyone else,” Adam looked away from David’s sudden smile and willed himself not to blush. “Err… well… you know how some of them get when they drink too much.”
“Yes, I do know,” David scowled and Adam knew he was thinking of the few times drunken teammates thought it would be funny to pick up and carry around the smaller player. “So just you and me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” David smiled and Adam felt his knees go weak.
* * *
“Joder, I drink too much,” David moaned with a giggle, clutching Adam's arm for support as they stumbled back towards Adam’s flat.
“Me too,” Adam was laughing, in the phase of drunkenness where everything was funny. “I should pick you up and carry you!”
“I won’t say no to a back ride.”
Giggling, Adam bent over and allowed David to jump on his back. It took three awkwardly drunk times, but eventually the Spaniard had his arms around Adam’s shoulders and legs around his waist. David was making Adam think dirty thoughts again. They made it as far as the park before Adam stumbled and they took a tumble in the grass. Groaning and making sure nothing was hurt, they looked at each other before dissolving into laughter. Adam decided this was his favorite image of David, sprawled and laughing whilst drunk in a park with his hat askew and scarf barely hanging on.
“You are looking at me funny Adam,” David said with a blush when he quieted and Adam comprehended that he had been caught staring.
“Do you miss Spain?” Adam blurted out, alcohol removing his sensitivity filter and making him horribly blunt. At least he hadn’t asked about Villa.
“I will always miss Spain,” David answered with one of those sweet smiles that made Adam’s toes tingle. “Why?”
“You just seem a lot happier lately.”
“Oh…”
A look came onto David’s face right then, a look Adam had come to know quite well. It was the expression that overtook the smaller player after he quickly finished figuring and laying out a plan on the field. It was the look that occurred when everything clicked together and the light bulb went off.
“You meant to ask me if I am still sad about what happened when I left Spain,” David said slowly, rolling onto his side. “You want to know if I still miss him.” David frowned before a bashful grin came onto his face. “Ah, is that why you stare at me when you think no one notices? I thought Nigel, Yaya, and Carlos were making that up.”
“Uh…,” Adam stuttered; had he been that obvious? “Yes?”
“He is in the past,” David closed the space between them and reaching for Adam’s hand, shyly intertwined their fingers with a touch of drunken fumbling, “and I like that you are the one here now.”
Looking back, neither would say their first kiss was romantic as Adam was so nervous and drunk that he miscalculated how far apart they were and painfully knocked their heads together so that their lips barely brushed. Their second kiss however was the one bit of warmth and softness beneath the frozen sky that night. Later at Adam’s flat, after the kisses became too numerous to count and David was pressed into his side lightly snoring, Adam remembered what David said about their teammates catching him staring at David. The only way they would have noticed is if they were sizing up the competition as they stole glances at David. Adam frowned, realizing he needed a big stick to beat them all away with. His eyes drifted to the purple marks on David’s neck and shoulders. Maybe the hickies would be hint enough.
Comments are lovely