(no subject)
TITLE: Hide Behind Your Eyes - Chapter Eight
RATING: R
SUMMARY: It hurts all the time when you don’t answer my calls and don’t have the time to remember how it was.
FANDOM: Spanish Football (Ramos/Torres)
STATUS: In Progress (8/?)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. This story is a work of fiction and came from the deepest darkest corner of my imagination.
PART EIGHT
It was harder than he thought it would be. On the plane when he had promised Fernando that he wouldn’t do anything stupid, he had made that promise under the ‘this is awkward as hell and you’ve been avoiding me for four months’ flag. He hadn’t expected that flag to convert so quickly into the ‘let’s be friends’ flag. If he had of known that, then he never would have made the damn promise in the first place!
The truth was that he had forgotten how alluring Fernando could be. He had forgotten that happy smile, curious eyes and eloquent voice. He had forgotten the way he would laugh when things amused him or how serious he could become when the situation called for it. He had forgotten the intensity that he brought to the pitch and the way his skin glowed and eyes sparkled when a goal was scored for his team.
He was beautiful.
How could he have forgotten?
Aware of his attraction, Sergio did his best to hide it. The first few days he had been reluctant to even look at Fernando, paranoid that he could be doing something to break his promise. Promises were not something that Sergio accepted lightly, particularly this one. This one was important, no matter how much it killed him to make it. But after a couple of days he found his defences relaxing and then suddenly it was easy to slip back into the routine they had always known; that simple, easy relationship between friends where it’s okay to talk and laugh and joke around with each other.
*
It was just before midnight, and for the third night in a row, Sergio found himself out on the training pitch with Fernando. But tonight, instead of training they were sitting at the centre of the field wrapped up in jumpers talking.
“She’s beautiful.”
It was Nora that Sergio was referring to. He was sprawled out on the grass on his stomach holding a small wallet sized picture of Fernando’s little girl between his fingers. He looked up at Fernando who was sitting with his arms wrapped loosely around his knees. “She looks just like you. What’s she like?”
“She’s a little bundle of energy,” Fernando grinned. “Remember when we were kids and we used to spend hours and hours playing football just because we could.”
Sergio laughed, “yeah.”
“Well Nora has that same energy. She’s going to have such a passionate personality when she gets older.”
Sergio returned his eyes to the photo briefly before handing it back, “she’s gorgeous.”
Fernando took the photo, their fingers brushing ever so slightly in the motion. “Thanks.”
*
“I don’t know how you do this,” Sergio mumbled, his voice thick with tiredness. It was their forth night on the pitch and Sergio was half asleep.
Fernando checked his watch amused, “its ten o’clock you grandma.”
*
Sergio checked his watch. “It’s two o’clock in the morning ladies and gentleman and the one and only Fernando Torres is about to take his ten millionth shot at goal. How many have hit the back of the net you ask? Well let me tell you...” Sergio paused dramatically “ten million! Yes, ladies and gentleman, ten million shots and all ten million have gone past the keeper. Incredible. And yet here we are, anxiously awaiting the results of shot number ten million and one!”
“Shut up, Sergio,” Fernando laughed.
“C’mon Nando,” Sergio complained, “It’s late. We have a match tomorrow and if you’re trying to show me how amazing you are then I got the point back at goal twenty-one.”
Fernando ignored him and lined up the shot before firing it smoothly into the back of the net.
Sergio clapped four times. “Great. Are we done?”
Fernando went to retrieve the ball, “a couple more.”
Sergio sighed, “Nando, c’mon. It’s late. You have this.”
“A couple more,” Fernando insisted.
“Hey,” Sergio grabbed Fernando’s shoulders and turned him to face him, “if you don’t get some sleep then all this work is going to be meaningless tomorrow. Please, just go to bed and get some rest, okay?”
Fernando hesitated again and again before finally agreeing. “Fine.”
*
Fernando bounced on his toes and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He wasn’t nervous, but he was anxious; anxious to get out on the pitch and play the game that he had been practicing.
A hand brushed his back lightly and Fernando looked over to receive Sergio’s kiss on the cheek.
“You good?” Sergio asked as he pulled away.
Fernando nodded, “yep.”
“Good, because I’m starting to feel as sleep deprived as you are,” Sergio teased as he took his place in line ahead of Fernando. “I dunno how you do it, Nando.”
Fernando bounced on his toes and stretched out his neck. “I’m used to it now. It’s just a routine.”
Sergio glanced over his shoulder at him, “you never used to have problems sleeping.”
“Yeah I know. But it was different then because you were with me.”
Sergio had been shaking out his ankles but he froze at Fernando’s words.
Fernando paused and bit his lip, “sorry. That didn’t come out the way I thought it would.”
Sergio shook his head quickly and resumed his movements, “no its okay. I shouldn’t have made a big deal of it. I’m just... still trying to work out how to act around you.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
*
It wasn’t a perfect game, but it was much better. Sergio pushed his way through the sea of players, fighting his way through the mess of celebrations to find the striker that he really wanted to see. His path was punctuated with hugs and congratulatory slaps, but he finally spotted Fernando and veered around Iker to reach out and grab Fernando’s forearm.
“Not bad, El Nino,” Sergio smiled as he reached out and wrapped his arms around the striker.
The sudden contact took Fernando’s breath away. They hadn’t been this close in a very long time. Sergio was warm, his skin almost fevered with exertion and he felt just as Fernando had remembered; incredibly warm, excessively hard, with a grip so strong that Fernando felt like he could be crushed under it. It was perfect.
“It wasn’t enough,” Fernando breathed as his arms encircled the defender. “All that work and I still couldn’t get the results.”
Sergio’s arms tightened around him, so strong and secure. “Doesn’t matter. Next time it will all come together. Okay?”
Sergio’s words against his ear sent shivers racing down Fernando’s spine and he shuddered clutching him close for an appropriate amount of time before slowly loosening his grip. It was as their bodies began to separate that Fernando felt it - a hot opened mouthed kiss to his neck. Sergio was out of his grasp and across the field before Fernando could even begin to decided whether he had imagined it or not.
RATING: R
SUMMARY: It hurts all the time when you don’t answer my calls and don’t have the time to remember how it was.
FANDOM: Spanish Football (Ramos/Torres)
STATUS: In Progress (8/?)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. This story is a work of fiction and came from the deepest darkest corner of my imagination.
PART EIGHT
It was harder than he thought it would be. On the plane when he had promised Fernando that he wouldn’t do anything stupid, he had made that promise under the ‘this is awkward as hell and you’ve been avoiding me for four months’ flag. He hadn’t expected that flag to convert so quickly into the ‘let’s be friends’ flag. If he had of known that, then he never would have made the damn promise in the first place!
The truth was that he had forgotten how alluring Fernando could be. He had forgotten that happy smile, curious eyes and eloquent voice. He had forgotten the way he would laugh when things amused him or how serious he could become when the situation called for it. He had forgotten the intensity that he brought to the pitch and the way his skin glowed and eyes sparkled when a goal was scored for his team.
He was beautiful.
How could he have forgotten?
Aware of his attraction, Sergio did his best to hide it. The first few days he had been reluctant to even look at Fernando, paranoid that he could be doing something to break his promise. Promises were not something that Sergio accepted lightly, particularly this one. This one was important, no matter how much it killed him to make it. But after a couple of days he found his defences relaxing and then suddenly it was easy to slip back into the routine they had always known; that simple, easy relationship between friends where it’s okay to talk and laugh and joke around with each other.
*
It was just before midnight, and for the third night in a row, Sergio found himself out on the training pitch with Fernando. But tonight, instead of training they were sitting at the centre of the field wrapped up in jumpers talking.
“She’s beautiful.”
It was Nora that Sergio was referring to. He was sprawled out on the grass on his stomach holding a small wallet sized picture of Fernando’s little girl between his fingers. He looked up at Fernando who was sitting with his arms wrapped loosely around his knees. “She looks just like you. What’s she like?”
“She’s a little bundle of energy,” Fernando grinned. “Remember when we were kids and we used to spend hours and hours playing football just because we could.”
Sergio laughed, “yeah.”
“Well Nora has that same energy. She’s going to have such a passionate personality when she gets older.”
Sergio returned his eyes to the photo briefly before handing it back, “she’s gorgeous.”
Fernando took the photo, their fingers brushing ever so slightly in the motion. “Thanks.”
*
“I don’t know how you do this,” Sergio mumbled, his voice thick with tiredness. It was their forth night on the pitch and Sergio was half asleep.
Fernando checked his watch amused, “its ten o’clock you grandma.”
*
Sergio checked his watch. “It’s two o’clock in the morning ladies and gentleman and the one and only Fernando Torres is about to take his ten millionth shot at goal. How many have hit the back of the net you ask? Well let me tell you...” Sergio paused dramatically “ten million! Yes, ladies and gentleman, ten million shots and all ten million have gone past the keeper. Incredible. And yet here we are, anxiously awaiting the results of shot number ten million and one!”
“Shut up, Sergio,” Fernando laughed.
“C’mon Nando,” Sergio complained, “It’s late. We have a match tomorrow and if you’re trying to show me how amazing you are then I got the point back at goal twenty-one.”
Fernando ignored him and lined up the shot before firing it smoothly into the back of the net.
Sergio clapped four times. “Great. Are we done?”
Fernando went to retrieve the ball, “a couple more.”
Sergio sighed, “Nando, c’mon. It’s late. You have this.”
“A couple more,” Fernando insisted.
“Hey,” Sergio grabbed Fernando’s shoulders and turned him to face him, “if you don’t get some sleep then all this work is going to be meaningless tomorrow. Please, just go to bed and get some rest, okay?”
Fernando hesitated again and again before finally agreeing. “Fine.”
*
Fernando bounced on his toes and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He wasn’t nervous, but he was anxious; anxious to get out on the pitch and play the game that he had been practicing.
A hand brushed his back lightly and Fernando looked over to receive Sergio’s kiss on the cheek.
“You good?” Sergio asked as he pulled away.
Fernando nodded, “yep.”
“Good, because I’m starting to feel as sleep deprived as you are,” Sergio teased as he took his place in line ahead of Fernando. “I dunno how you do it, Nando.”
Fernando bounced on his toes and stretched out his neck. “I’m used to it now. It’s just a routine.”
Sergio glanced over his shoulder at him, “you never used to have problems sleeping.”
“Yeah I know. But it was different then because you were with me.”
Sergio had been shaking out his ankles but he froze at Fernando’s words.
Fernando paused and bit his lip, “sorry. That didn’t come out the way I thought it would.”
Sergio shook his head quickly and resumed his movements, “no its okay. I shouldn’t have made a big deal of it. I’m just... still trying to work out how to act around you.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
*
It wasn’t a perfect game, but it was much better. Sergio pushed his way through the sea of players, fighting his way through the mess of celebrations to find the striker that he really wanted to see. His path was punctuated with hugs and congratulatory slaps, but he finally spotted Fernando and veered around Iker to reach out and grab Fernando’s forearm.
“Not bad, El Nino,” Sergio smiled as he reached out and wrapped his arms around the striker.
The sudden contact took Fernando’s breath away. They hadn’t been this close in a very long time. Sergio was warm, his skin almost fevered with exertion and he felt just as Fernando had remembered; incredibly warm, excessively hard, with a grip so strong that Fernando felt like he could be crushed under it. It was perfect.
“It wasn’t enough,” Fernando breathed as his arms encircled the defender. “All that work and I still couldn’t get the results.”
Sergio’s arms tightened around him, so strong and secure. “Doesn’t matter. Next time it will all come together. Okay?”
Sergio’s words against his ear sent shivers racing down Fernando’s spine and he shuddered clutching him close for an appropriate amount of time before slowly loosening his grip. It was as their bodies began to separate that Fernando felt it - a hot opened mouthed kiss to his neck. Sergio was out of his grasp and across the field before Fernando could even begin to decided whether he had imagined it or not.