3 short fics I never posted
I was going through my stuff and realized I never posted these to my journal. Not the best but *shrugs* whatever. Thanks albion_lass for the beta help <3
Title: Riding on the Diamond Waves
Pairing: Daniel Agger/ Fernando Torres
Rating: PG-13
WC: 730
Disclaimer:Not True
It's one of those teasing sunny days that looks like it should be warm but isn't. He opens the window to let in a bit of air, a sharp, cold breath of reality of the world outside their bedroom. It's not cold enough to make him feel like he's freezing, but it is cold enough to return to bed. Once there, he curls around a still sleeping Fernando.
Fernando sleeps with a frown on his face. He didn't use to. He doesn't smile as much as he did, he doesn't laugh as much as he did. Neither of them do. Somewhere in the back of his mind Daniel knows that it wouldn't last forever, that they couldn't last forever because nothing is forever. What they have now is stolen nights spent slinking around when wives are out of town or when they can find a hotel no one will recognize them at. Clinging on to the fading strings of their relationship is as painful as just letting it die. They're okay with that though; neither of them is willing to let it go.
"You're frowning."
"Because you were."
Fernando's smile is heavy, clumsy, with sleep. Daniel laughs and rests his head against Fernando's. They lay together in silence enjoying the feeling of the other's body and offered warmth while they still can. The sun climbs higher and higher into the sky and they both know they need to shower and part, but neither wants to. No one can hide in the noon sun.
Eventually the angry red of the clock next to the bed forces them to move. They stumble into the small bathroom and even though there's not enough room for the two of them, push their way into the shower. They don't speak very much as there's not very much they can say that hasn't been said before or isn't already glaringly obvious.
The water is hot against their bodies in a cold room. Steam rises and fills the small area. Fernando turns around so he's facing Daniel, and rests his head against his chest and winds his arms around his waist, pulling him close. Daniel rests his chin on top of Fernando's head, wraps his arms around his shoulders. They stay like that until the water runs cold.
*
There's an international break the next month; Daniel is injured and Fernando wasn't called up. They meet in a small seaside village, and because the owner of the hotel they're staying at recognizes them, they book two rooms. They take their time in making one of the beds look slept in before moving their items to the second room.
Despite the clouds overhead and random drizzle that comes and goes, it's warm enough to get by with a light coat to combat the wind from the sea. They grab some ice cream from a store and wander down to the beach. The sea is calm despite the roaring wind. It blows so hard at one point that Fernando loses his hat and his hair is blown everywhere. Daniel wrinkles his nose when he laughs; Fernando nudges him with his shoulder, slightly embarrassed smile on his face.
"Do you think things happen for a reason?" Fernando's got a bit of ice cream on his lip and Daniel wipes it off.
"I don't know. They just kind of happen."
A silence falls between them. Daniel watches as some kids wade in the water, looking for seashells or other items that might have washed up from the ocean.
"I was relieved when I wasn't called up." Daniel looks at Fernando, who is looking out at a boat bobbing up and down on the water, barely visible in the gray.
Daniel doesn't blame him. The amount of scrutiny Fernando is under from not only the press, but his teams, fans, and everything else seems unbearable. Sitting out a round of internationals must be a welcomed break from the alienating spotlight.
"There's always next time, yeah?" Daniel tells him, ice cream cone half way in his mouth and words mumbled.
Fernando shrugs. "I'd rather be here."
Daniel smiles. The sun comes out for a brief moment and the shadows disappear. He takes the last bite of his ice cream cone and grabbing Fernando's hand, squeezes it. They stay there until the ships have come in for the night and the sun has long since set.
***
Title: Fragile, strong, self-inflicted
Pairing: Fernando Llorente/David Silva
Rating: NC-17
WC: 1492
Disclaimer: lol I wish
AN: Fill from footballkink. Pretty much just angsty smut. Woooo
Fernando waits until David's asleep, breathing deep and even, face relaxed and all cares far away. He starts with David's hands. Gently picking one up, he holds it in his own and marvels at how small the fingers and palm are against his own. It's almost like a child's hand in that of a giant, and Fernando can't describe the uncertainty that flutters over him. Sometimes he feels like he's going to break something so small, so delicate. He would never tell David that though, but he doesn't think he has to. David sees what people are thinking without having to hear them say it. It would upset David if he knew just how afraid Fernando was of breaking him, of hurting him.
David is much stronger than he looks.
From his hands, he moves on to his shoulders, down his rising and falling chest. Fernando commits every second to memory, maps every inch of David's body with his eyes and fingertips. Nothing lasts forever. Someday they won't have national team call ups as an excuse to meet, someday their youth will be gone; one day they will part ways and while Fernando knows it will hurt, he knows that's part of the life they chose. He'll always remember nights like these though.
Time slips away from him as he sits there once again holding David's hand in his. He thinks about the uncertainty that the future brings, the uncertainty that being a professional footballer brings. Fernando doesn't notice when David's breathing changes or that the smaller player's eyes open, heavy with sleep and confusion. He doesn't notice anything until David's hand curls within his own.
"Sorry," he mutters, "just thinking."
David's smile is sleepy and makes him look younger than he is. Yawning, David pulls Fernando down next to him, pressing their bodies together. They don't really fit together well, elbows, shoulders and knees poking in all the wrong spots. Nothing is ideal; it just is what it is. But that's most things in life.
"You okay?" David's words are slurred and muffled against the bare skin of Fernando's chest; Fernando is distracted by the way David's lips move against his skin.
"Yeah."
"Liar." He feels David's grin against him. "Let me help."
David licks his chest, right below his collar bone; Fernando's breathing hitches. He sucks gently, enough to where there will be a mark, possibly a bruise, but nothing that can't be passed off as a game injury. David shifts against him, moving at a slow pace, kissing and licking his way down Fernando's body. It's torture, the way David's tongue traces patterns against his skin, how slow David goes because he knows it drives Fernando insane.
Reaching down, David pushes at Fernando's legs so he'll open them. Crawling in between then, Fernando adjusts himself so he's propped up on the pillows, watching David move. At one point David stops, looks up at Fernando with his eyes dark, lips swollen and covered in spit; Fernando leans forward and drags David into a kiss. If a kiss can be blunt, then it's blunt with more teeth, tongue, and urgency than either really care for but want none the less. Fernando doesn't let go until David's hand drops and palms him through his briefs. He sighs against David's lips as David reaches below the waistband and grabs him, moving his hand up and down.
"David, I…" he can barely speak.
David doesn't say anything, just smiles up at him before pulling away and resituating himself between Fernando's open legs and tossing Fernando's briefs to the floor. Fernando watches as David grabs his penis and licks the tip of it slowly, experimentally, as if seeing what type of reaction he can pull from Fernando. He traces his tongue up and down the sides, all around the tip, finding the places that make Fernando groan and squirm. David takes him in his mouth, just the tip at first, and then further down when Fernando starts to beg. He takes his time, making Fernando feel like he is going to burst into flames with want. David knows exactly what he's doing and it's driving Fernando crazy.
"Up." Fernando stops David and pulls him up, throws him down on the bed and hovers over him.
David's hair is splashed out on the pillowcase, his eyes large as he looks at Fernando expectantly. Fernando's hands are on either side of David's face, propping himself up over where David's body is splayed under him. He's afraid of crushing David beneath him, of hurting him with his much larger and stronger body. It's ridiculous because David is routinely pushed around on the field by guys just as big as him, but this is different. Fernando would never forgive himself for hurting David.
"You think too much," David tells him, slinging an arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. "Don't make me go find someone else."
Fernando knows David is just teasing him, but the thought of David with anyone else makes him angry, territorial, and he leans down and bites David's shoulder, marking him and showing everyone else that he's off limits. David lets out a little cry from the back of his throat, half pain half pleasure. Reaching under the pillow, his fingers find a bottle of lubricant- David always keeps it in the same place. Wetting a finger, he circles around David's hole, applying enough pressure for David to feel it but not enough to penetrate. David huffs in frustration, but Fernando prevents him from pushing down until Fernando feels like he's teased David enough. When he does push into him, David is tight and clamps down on Fernando's finger. Fernando watches as David's eyes become the slightest bit unfocused, how he draws the corner of his lip into his mouth and chews on it.
He adds a second finger and David's back arches up off the bed, beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Fernando almost withdraws his fingers but David shakes his head no. Nodding, Fernando continues to move his fingers in and out in corkscrew, scissoring motion, stretching David out. David moans, sighs, cries out a few times and Fernando tries to remember what parts, what moves, David likes best. He tries in vain- he always comes away from David barely able to breathe let alone think or remember anything.
"Okay," David tells him after a few minutes, reaching into the pillowcase to pull out a condom.
Fernando makes to move, to sit against the headboard and have David ride him, but David catches his hand and makes him stop. There's steel in his eyes; he's not moving and Fernando is just going to have to deal. Nodding slowly, Fernando grabs a pillow and places it under David's lower back to give him a better angle. Rolling the condom on, he discards the wrapper to the floor. Resting his hands on David's hips, he pauses, staring at how much of David his hands cover.
"I trust you." David tells him.
That's all Fernando needs. David sighs as Fernando pushes into him, a sound that comes from deep within him and nearly makes Fernando come. He has to stop for a moment, both to calm himself down and to make sure he's not hurting David. When he's all the way in, he has to remember to breathe, but he can't remember the last time someone felt so tight, so perfect around him. One of David's legs wraps around his waist, holding Fernando there, pushing him as far in as he can go.
He never remembers much, just an intense feeling that pulses through him in waves as they move against each other. David whispers in his ear, things he likes and what he wants Fernando to do. David has a sort of hold, dominance, over Fernando that is completely self-inflicted. Fernando would do anything David asks of him, anything to make sure he's happy.
David comes first, crying Fernando's name out. The way his name sounds on David's lips makes Fernando forget everything except the way their bodies feel when they're together and he comes a few seconds later. It's an exercise in self-restraint to not collapse down on David, to hold himself up until he can pull out and dispose of the condom. Fernando goes into the bathroom and wets a cloth to clean himself, and when he's done he returns to the bedroom to clean David off.
David is barely awake. He smiles contently up at Fernando before drifting off. They've done this before, dozens of times, but Fernando is always uncertain. Nothing will ever change that, it's a fear he knows he will never get over, a fear that he knows hurts David just as much as it hurts him.
Pulling David against him, he makes sure the blankets are around him before giving into the draw of sleep. He falls asleep with David's hand in his.
***
Title: Growing in my heart
Pairing: Roger Levesque/Erik Friberg
Rating: PG
WC: 1147
Disclaimer: *sigh* unless I have ~the gift of foresight, this is not true
AN: takes place 7 years in the future in my psychotic little AU world where Erik comes back with his daughter... hahahahaha... ;-; for luxover
Erik's lips are pressed together and he looks like he's at his wit's end. Ebba is sitting on the end part of the couch, her legs drawn into her chest and her face buried in her knees. Roger stands at the edge of the room, unsure what is going on. Erik stands when he sees him and crosses the room. From the look in his eyes Roger knows Ebba isn't talking to him, that she's blocking him out again. Erik stands up and motions to Roger.
"What happened?" He asks as he follows Erik into the kitchen.
"A fight." Erik sighs as he leans against the sink. "She hit someone."
"Why?"
Erik shrugs. "She won't talk to me. Can you...?"
Roger gives Erik a reassuring smile, reaching across the space between them and pulling on a bit of Erik's hair. Erik grabs Roger's hand and holds it there against his face for a moment before kissing his wrist. There's worry in his eyes, the tension and age that come with being a parent, and Roger wants to kiss it all away.
Erik starts making dinner as Roger goes back into the living room. Ebba hasn't moved. Roger sits down next to her and doesn't say anything for a few minutes. She shifts in the silence and looks up at him; her eyes are red like she's been crying and she looks miserable. Roger feels a little piece of his heart shatter at seeing her so miserable. She reaches for him and Roger pulls her next to him, brushing her hair out of her face and wraps an arm around her.
"One of the older boys was mean to me," she tells him. "He said you only adopted me because you felt sorry for me and that no one loves me."
"You know that's not true," Roger tells her, petting the top of her head as she buries her face into his side. "All of your parents love you more than anything. And the only thing I feel sorry for you about is that you have your Dad's silly smile."
Ebba breaks a small smile at that and Roger returns it. He makes a mental note to call the school. This isn't the first time Ebba's been picked on because of her accent or for having two fathers; Roger knows it won't be the last time, but he will do everything in his power to make sure that the children who bully her are dealt with.
"Dad said I had to apologize," Ebba mumbles, looking down at her hands. "I don't want to. It would be lying; I'm not sorry I hit him."
Roger has to bite his lip to stop grinning at her logic. "You should never hurt anyone with your body or with words. That is just as bad."
She shakes her head and Roger has to remind himself that she's only seven and can be stubborn. He places a kiss on the top of her head, and stands from the couch. Reminding her to start on her homework, he returns to the kitchen to tell Erik what happened. Erik has a temper and Roger sees it flare in his eyes as he sets the spatula down and crosses his arms. Silly smiles and the same stubborn streak run through father and daughter.
"Come on," Roger pulls Erik away from the cutting board. Turning off the stove, he pulls Erik out of the kitchen. "Lingonberry, get your shoes on."
Ebba grudgingly slinks out of the living room, book clutched in her hand, eyes trained on the floor. She reaches for Roger, who sweeps her up and sets her on top of his shoulders as Erik grabs her shoes and slips them on.
The lake is only a few blocks from their house, and the ice cream store only a bit further. They walk in silence, Ebba perched on Roger's shoulders and Erik holding Roger's hand. In their neighborhood no one looks at them strangely. Once they get into the more commercial part of Greenlake there are a few looks, but no one says anything. No one ever says anything. Not in this part of town anyway.
Ebba gets a strawberry ice cream cone while Roger and Eric share a banana split. It makes Roger think of his own parents, of trips to the ice cream parlor when he was young. For some reasons he equates banana splits with parenting, but Roger figures he doesn't really have to make sense because most things in life don't.
"Dad," Ebba stares up at him, a bit of ice cream on the tip of her nose and Roger laughs as he wipes it off, "I'm sorry."
"Good," Roger tells her,"now you just have to tell that boy."
"I know," she grumbles.
Roger and Erik exchange stifled grins over the top of her head.
*
"Okay, tonight we're reading an excerpt from Where the Sidewalk Ends," Roger pulls a book down from the shelf as Ebba crawls into bed.
He doesn't have to read for very long; she's had a difficult day and her eyes start to shut after the first few poems. She likes Shel Silverstein, just like Roger did when he was young. She laughs at the same parts of the same poems he did. Erik doesn't really understand the humor; it's something that's just his and Ebba's.
"Okay Lingonberry, that's enough for tonight." He says as he shuts the book and sets it back up on her bookshelf. "I love you."
"Promise?"
The way she looks at him- tiny, seven years old, and still worried after what the bully said to her- makes him bend over and plant a reassuring kiss on her forehead. She giggles, tells him his beard tickles, and he blows a raspberry on her cheek just to hear her shriek.
"You know what makes adopted kids special?" He asks her and she shakes her head. "While you grew in your mom's tummy, you were growing in my heart." He taps the space over her heart and she smiles up at him. "Goodnight Ebba."
"Night Daddy."
Erik is waiting for him in the hall with that vague grin on his face, and Roger knows he heard everything. Erik pulls him close and rocks up onto his toes to kiss Roger.
"When did good parenting become sexy?" Erik mutters and Roger throws his head back because he's laughing so hard.
"I'm always sexy," Roger shrugs through his laughs.
Erik hums his agreement as he pulls Roger into their bedroom and shows Roger just how much he agrees with that statement.
Title: Riding on the Diamond Waves
Pairing: Daniel Agger/ Fernando Torres
Rating: PG-13
WC: 730
Disclaimer:Not True
It's one of those teasing sunny days that looks like it should be warm but isn't. He opens the window to let in a bit of air, a sharp, cold breath of reality of the world outside their bedroom. It's not cold enough to make him feel like he's freezing, but it is cold enough to return to bed. Once there, he curls around a still sleeping Fernando.
Fernando sleeps with a frown on his face. He didn't use to. He doesn't smile as much as he did, he doesn't laugh as much as he did. Neither of them do. Somewhere in the back of his mind Daniel knows that it wouldn't last forever, that they couldn't last forever because nothing is forever. What they have now is stolen nights spent slinking around when wives are out of town or when they can find a hotel no one will recognize them at. Clinging on to the fading strings of their relationship is as painful as just letting it die. They're okay with that though; neither of them is willing to let it go.
"You're frowning."
"Because you were."
Fernando's smile is heavy, clumsy, with sleep. Daniel laughs and rests his head against Fernando's. They lay together in silence enjoying the feeling of the other's body and offered warmth while they still can. The sun climbs higher and higher into the sky and they both know they need to shower and part, but neither wants to. No one can hide in the noon sun.
Eventually the angry red of the clock next to the bed forces them to move. They stumble into the small bathroom and even though there's not enough room for the two of them, push their way into the shower. They don't speak very much as there's not very much they can say that hasn't been said before or isn't already glaringly obvious.
The water is hot against their bodies in a cold room. Steam rises and fills the small area. Fernando turns around so he's facing Daniel, and rests his head against his chest and winds his arms around his waist, pulling him close. Daniel rests his chin on top of Fernando's head, wraps his arms around his shoulders. They stay like that until the water runs cold.
*
There's an international break the next month; Daniel is injured and Fernando wasn't called up. They meet in a small seaside village, and because the owner of the hotel they're staying at recognizes them, they book two rooms. They take their time in making one of the beds look slept in before moving their items to the second room.
Despite the clouds overhead and random drizzle that comes and goes, it's warm enough to get by with a light coat to combat the wind from the sea. They grab some ice cream from a store and wander down to the beach. The sea is calm despite the roaring wind. It blows so hard at one point that Fernando loses his hat and his hair is blown everywhere. Daniel wrinkles his nose when he laughs; Fernando nudges him with his shoulder, slightly embarrassed smile on his face.
"Do you think things happen for a reason?" Fernando's got a bit of ice cream on his lip and Daniel wipes it off.
"I don't know. They just kind of happen."
A silence falls between them. Daniel watches as some kids wade in the water, looking for seashells or other items that might have washed up from the ocean.
"I was relieved when I wasn't called up." Daniel looks at Fernando, who is looking out at a boat bobbing up and down on the water, barely visible in the gray.
Daniel doesn't blame him. The amount of scrutiny Fernando is under from not only the press, but his teams, fans, and everything else seems unbearable. Sitting out a round of internationals must be a welcomed break from the alienating spotlight.
"There's always next time, yeah?" Daniel tells him, ice cream cone half way in his mouth and words mumbled.
Fernando shrugs. "I'd rather be here."
Daniel smiles. The sun comes out for a brief moment and the shadows disappear. He takes the last bite of his ice cream cone and grabbing Fernando's hand, squeezes it. They stay there until the ships have come in for the night and the sun has long since set.
***
Title: Fragile, strong, self-inflicted
Pairing: Fernando Llorente/David Silva
Rating: NC-17
WC: 1492
Disclaimer: lol I wish
AN: Fill from footballkink. Pretty much just angsty smut. Woooo
Fernando waits until David's asleep, breathing deep and even, face relaxed and all cares far away. He starts with David's hands. Gently picking one up, he holds it in his own and marvels at how small the fingers and palm are against his own. It's almost like a child's hand in that of a giant, and Fernando can't describe the uncertainty that flutters over him. Sometimes he feels like he's going to break something so small, so delicate. He would never tell David that though, but he doesn't think he has to. David sees what people are thinking without having to hear them say it. It would upset David if he knew just how afraid Fernando was of breaking him, of hurting him.
David is much stronger than he looks.
From his hands, he moves on to his shoulders, down his rising and falling chest. Fernando commits every second to memory, maps every inch of David's body with his eyes and fingertips. Nothing lasts forever. Someday they won't have national team call ups as an excuse to meet, someday their youth will be gone; one day they will part ways and while Fernando knows it will hurt, he knows that's part of the life they chose. He'll always remember nights like these though.
Time slips away from him as he sits there once again holding David's hand in his. He thinks about the uncertainty that the future brings, the uncertainty that being a professional footballer brings. Fernando doesn't notice when David's breathing changes or that the smaller player's eyes open, heavy with sleep and confusion. He doesn't notice anything until David's hand curls within his own.
"Sorry," he mutters, "just thinking."
David's smile is sleepy and makes him look younger than he is. Yawning, David pulls Fernando down next to him, pressing their bodies together. They don't really fit together well, elbows, shoulders and knees poking in all the wrong spots. Nothing is ideal; it just is what it is. But that's most things in life.
"You okay?" David's words are slurred and muffled against the bare skin of Fernando's chest; Fernando is distracted by the way David's lips move against his skin.
"Yeah."
"Liar." He feels David's grin against him. "Let me help."
David licks his chest, right below his collar bone; Fernando's breathing hitches. He sucks gently, enough to where there will be a mark, possibly a bruise, but nothing that can't be passed off as a game injury. David shifts against him, moving at a slow pace, kissing and licking his way down Fernando's body. It's torture, the way David's tongue traces patterns against his skin, how slow David goes because he knows it drives Fernando insane.
Reaching down, David pushes at Fernando's legs so he'll open them. Crawling in between then, Fernando adjusts himself so he's propped up on the pillows, watching David move. At one point David stops, looks up at Fernando with his eyes dark, lips swollen and covered in spit; Fernando leans forward and drags David into a kiss. If a kiss can be blunt, then it's blunt with more teeth, tongue, and urgency than either really care for but want none the less. Fernando doesn't let go until David's hand drops and palms him through his briefs. He sighs against David's lips as David reaches below the waistband and grabs him, moving his hand up and down.
"David, I…" he can barely speak.
David doesn't say anything, just smiles up at him before pulling away and resituating himself between Fernando's open legs and tossing Fernando's briefs to the floor. Fernando watches as David grabs his penis and licks the tip of it slowly, experimentally, as if seeing what type of reaction he can pull from Fernando. He traces his tongue up and down the sides, all around the tip, finding the places that make Fernando groan and squirm. David takes him in his mouth, just the tip at first, and then further down when Fernando starts to beg. He takes his time, making Fernando feel like he is going to burst into flames with want. David knows exactly what he's doing and it's driving Fernando crazy.
"Up." Fernando stops David and pulls him up, throws him down on the bed and hovers over him.
David's hair is splashed out on the pillowcase, his eyes large as he looks at Fernando expectantly. Fernando's hands are on either side of David's face, propping himself up over where David's body is splayed under him. He's afraid of crushing David beneath him, of hurting him with his much larger and stronger body. It's ridiculous because David is routinely pushed around on the field by guys just as big as him, but this is different. Fernando would never forgive himself for hurting David.
"You think too much," David tells him, slinging an arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. "Don't make me go find someone else."
Fernando knows David is just teasing him, but the thought of David with anyone else makes him angry, territorial, and he leans down and bites David's shoulder, marking him and showing everyone else that he's off limits. David lets out a little cry from the back of his throat, half pain half pleasure. Reaching under the pillow, his fingers find a bottle of lubricant- David always keeps it in the same place. Wetting a finger, he circles around David's hole, applying enough pressure for David to feel it but not enough to penetrate. David huffs in frustration, but Fernando prevents him from pushing down until Fernando feels like he's teased David enough. When he does push into him, David is tight and clamps down on Fernando's finger. Fernando watches as David's eyes become the slightest bit unfocused, how he draws the corner of his lip into his mouth and chews on it.
He adds a second finger and David's back arches up off the bed, beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Fernando almost withdraws his fingers but David shakes his head no. Nodding, Fernando continues to move his fingers in and out in corkscrew, scissoring motion, stretching David out. David moans, sighs, cries out a few times and Fernando tries to remember what parts, what moves, David likes best. He tries in vain- he always comes away from David barely able to breathe let alone think or remember anything.
"Okay," David tells him after a few minutes, reaching into the pillowcase to pull out a condom.
Fernando makes to move, to sit against the headboard and have David ride him, but David catches his hand and makes him stop. There's steel in his eyes; he's not moving and Fernando is just going to have to deal. Nodding slowly, Fernando grabs a pillow and places it under David's lower back to give him a better angle. Rolling the condom on, he discards the wrapper to the floor. Resting his hands on David's hips, he pauses, staring at how much of David his hands cover.
"I trust you." David tells him.
That's all Fernando needs. David sighs as Fernando pushes into him, a sound that comes from deep within him and nearly makes Fernando come. He has to stop for a moment, both to calm himself down and to make sure he's not hurting David. When he's all the way in, he has to remember to breathe, but he can't remember the last time someone felt so tight, so perfect around him. One of David's legs wraps around his waist, holding Fernando there, pushing him as far in as he can go.
He never remembers much, just an intense feeling that pulses through him in waves as they move against each other. David whispers in his ear, things he likes and what he wants Fernando to do. David has a sort of hold, dominance, over Fernando that is completely self-inflicted. Fernando would do anything David asks of him, anything to make sure he's happy.
David comes first, crying Fernando's name out. The way his name sounds on David's lips makes Fernando forget everything except the way their bodies feel when they're together and he comes a few seconds later. It's an exercise in self-restraint to not collapse down on David, to hold himself up until he can pull out and dispose of the condom. Fernando goes into the bathroom and wets a cloth to clean himself, and when he's done he returns to the bedroom to clean David off.
David is barely awake. He smiles contently up at Fernando before drifting off. They've done this before, dozens of times, but Fernando is always uncertain. Nothing will ever change that, it's a fear he knows he will never get over, a fear that he knows hurts David just as much as it hurts him.
Pulling David against him, he makes sure the blankets are around him before giving into the draw of sleep. He falls asleep with David's hand in his.
***
Title: Growing in my heart
Pairing: Roger Levesque/Erik Friberg
Rating: PG
WC: 1147
Disclaimer: *sigh* unless I have ~the gift of foresight, this is not true
AN: takes place 7 years in the future in my psychotic little AU world where Erik comes back with his daughter... hahahahaha... ;-; for luxover
Erik's lips are pressed together and he looks like he's at his wit's end. Ebba is sitting on the end part of the couch, her legs drawn into her chest and her face buried in her knees. Roger stands at the edge of the room, unsure what is going on. Erik stands when he sees him and crosses the room. From the look in his eyes Roger knows Ebba isn't talking to him, that she's blocking him out again. Erik stands up and motions to Roger.
"What happened?" He asks as he follows Erik into the kitchen.
"A fight." Erik sighs as he leans against the sink. "She hit someone."
"Why?"
Erik shrugs. "She won't talk to me. Can you...?"
Roger gives Erik a reassuring smile, reaching across the space between them and pulling on a bit of Erik's hair. Erik grabs Roger's hand and holds it there against his face for a moment before kissing his wrist. There's worry in his eyes, the tension and age that come with being a parent, and Roger wants to kiss it all away.
Erik starts making dinner as Roger goes back into the living room. Ebba hasn't moved. Roger sits down next to her and doesn't say anything for a few minutes. She shifts in the silence and looks up at him; her eyes are red like she's been crying and she looks miserable. Roger feels a little piece of his heart shatter at seeing her so miserable. She reaches for him and Roger pulls her next to him, brushing her hair out of her face and wraps an arm around her.
"One of the older boys was mean to me," she tells him. "He said you only adopted me because you felt sorry for me and that no one loves me."
"You know that's not true," Roger tells her, petting the top of her head as she buries her face into his side. "All of your parents love you more than anything. And the only thing I feel sorry for you about is that you have your Dad's silly smile."
Ebba breaks a small smile at that and Roger returns it. He makes a mental note to call the school. This isn't the first time Ebba's been picked on because of her accent or for having two fathers; Roger knows it won't be the last time, but he will do everything in his power to make sure that the children who bully her are dealt with.
"Dad said I had to apologize," Ebba mumbles, looking down at her hands. "I don't want to. It would be lying; I'm not sorry I hit him."
Roger has to bite his lip to stop grinning at her logic. "You should never hurt anyone with your body or with words. That is just as bad."
She shakes her head and Roger has to remind himself that she's only seven and can be stubborn. He places a kiss on the top of her head, and stands from the couch. Reminding her to start on her homework, he returns to the kitchen to tell Erik what happened. Erik has a temper and Roger sees it flare in his eyes as he sets the spatula down and crosses his arms. Silly smiles and the same stubborn streak run through father and daughter.
"Come on," Roger pulls Erik away from the cutting board. Turning off the stove, he pulls Erik out of the kitchen. "Lingonberry, get your shoes on."
Ebba grudgingly slinks out of the living room, book clutched in her hand, eyes trained on the floor. She reaches for Roger, who sweeps her up and sets her on top of his shoulders as Erik grabs her shoes and slips them on.
The lake is only a few blocks from their house, and the ice cream store only a bit further. They walk in silence, Ebba perched on Roger's shoulders and Erik holding Roger's hand. In their neighborhood no one looks at them strangely. Once they get into the more commercial part of Greenlake there are a few looks, but no one says anything. No one ever says anything. Not in this part of town anyway.
Ebba gets a strawberry ice cream cone while Roger and Eric share a banana split. It makes Roger think of his own parents, of trips to the ice cream parlor when he was young. For some reasons he equates banana splits with parenting, but Roger figures he doesn't really have to make sense because most things in life don't.
"Dad," Ebba stares up at him, a bit of ice cream on the tip of her nose and Roger laughs as he wipes it off, "I'm sorry."
"Good," Roger tells her,"now you just have to tell that boy."
"I know," she grumbles.
Roger and Erik exchange stifled grins over the top of her head.
*
"Okay, tonight we're reading an excerpt from Where the Sidewalk Ends," Roger pulls a book down from the shelf as Ebba crawls into bed.
He doesn't have to read for very long; she's had a difficult day and her eyes start to shut after the first few poems. She likes Shel Silverstein, just like Roger did when he was young. She laughs at the same parts of the same poems he did. Erik doesn't really understand the humor; it's something that's just his and Ebba's.
"Okay Lingonberry, that's enough for tonight." He says as he shuts the book and sets it back up on her bookshelf. "I love you."
"Promise?"
The way she looks at him- tiny, seven years old, and still worried after what the bully said to her- makes him bend over and plant a reassuring kiss on her forehead. She giggles, tells him his beard tickles, and he blows a raspberry on her cheek just to hear her shriek.
"You know what makes adopted kids special?" He asks her and she shakes her head. "While you grew in your mom's tummy, you were growing in my heart." He taps the space over her heart and she smiles up at him. "Goodnight Ebba."
"Night Daddy."
Erik is waiting for him in the hall with that vague grin on his face, and Roger knows he heard everything. Erik pulls him close and rocks up onto his toes to kiss Roger.
"When did good parenting become sexy?" Erik mutters and Roger throws his head back because he's laughing so hard.
"I'm always sexy," Roger shrugs through his laughs.
Erik hums his agreement as he pulls Roger into their bedroom and shows Roger just how much he agrees with that statement.