(no subject)
TITLE: Hide Behind Your Eyes - Chapter Twelve
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: Complete (12/12)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. This story is a work of fiction and came from the deepest darkest corner of my imagination.
*~*Part Twelve*~*
The celebrations began in a muddle of red and gold. Fernando lost Sergio in the mess three or four times before finally letting his mind accept that this couldn’t be forced. Everything was pure chaos - too many cameras, too many fans, too many cheers and laughs and tears mixed up in the fierce pride that threatened to overwhelm them all. So Fernando let Sergio slip out of sight and allowed himself to relax; truly relax for the first time in a very long time. This was a moment to be enjoyed. There was no use over thinking it.
It was easy to get caught up in the celebration. Easy to ignore the press and let everything happening around him blur into one big golden jumble. But then Sergio would have an arm around his shoulders and he’d fly back down to earth long enough to return the embrace before they were lost in the confusion once more.
It was all ridiculously surreal - he had the World Cup in his hands and he was shaking hands with the queen. Then he was standing in front of a sea of press trying to find the words that were eloquent enough to truly describe how this felt - but how could he describe something as indescribable as this? He had just achieved something that he had been working towards his entire life. How could you even begin to describe the feeling you get when the fruits of your labour have finally reached fruition? And then there was Sergio... running around in an endless bubble of energy, tossing out infectious smiles and always managing to find his way back to Fernando’s side before disappearing once more.
Fernando was pretty sure he was about to burst with the beauty of it all.
*
He had a bottle of wine in each hand. Where in the heck had they come from? One was empty; he had dumped that one over Iker’s head. The other one was half full; it had made its rounds around the locker room before Sergio had taken it hostage as a weapon. If someone was about to spray him with champagne, then at least he could reciprocate. Already the locker room smelt like a brewery, the floor was sticky in places and slippery in others and everyone’s hair was sticking up in wet sticky tufts. Fernando’s was the worst, Sergio wasn’t sure who had attacked him with the champagne, but every time Sergio looked over, Fernando had his fingers in it and as a result it was constantly sticking up in a different direction.
Once they were all off the pitch there was dozens of speeches punctuated with cheers and chants as everyone started drinking in their kits and shower shoes. Sergio lost track of the amount of beers consumed by the team, but if the state of the locker room was any indication then he was pretty sure they were all on their happy journey to inebriation. Iker’s speech was probably the best. He only got a couple of sentences in before the champagne fight began.
The yells and shouts must have carried all the way to Spain. Sergio had never heard anything like it. It was chaos. It was almost as though no one quite knew how to expel their excitement, so everyone just returned to their Euro 2008 antics and pulled out the champagne.
The fight was still in full swing when Sergio got a hold of Fernando’s hand and the two of them made their escape to the far side of the locker room away from the danger of being drowned in wine.
“I think I have champagne in my eyes,” Fernando complained, wiping his eyes with both hands. He had champagne running down his neck and his shirt was plastered to his skin.
Sergio reached out and ran his fingers through the front of Fernando’s hair. The short strands were sticky to touch and stood up in messy spikes as Sergio pushed the tresses back from Fernando’s forehead. Amused by the effect, Sergio dropped his hand and smirked, “that’s disgusting, Nando.”
Fernando rolled his eyes, “I know. I’m going for a shower.”
“Can I come?”
He had meant it in a joking manner. But when Fernando paused and looked over his shoulder at him, all sense of mockery went out the window. They stared at each other for a split second before Fernando reached out and shoved Sergio back into the line of lockers.
The lockers were cold and hard against the skin of Sergio’s back as he smashed into them. The impact sent Sergio’s breath whooshing from his lungs and he stared at Fernando in surprise as he held him against the metal with strong assured hands. “Why did you say yes?” Fernando whispered curiously his breath hot against Sergio’s neck.
Sergio let out a breath, their faces so close that he could see every freckle scattered across Fernando’s nose. “Because it’s you and I can’t stay away.”
Fernando’s eyes drifted over Sergio’s face, lingering on his full bottom lip. Oh gods he could just imagine how delicious it would be to lean forward and nibble it gently into his mouth. As he watched Sergio caught it nervously between his teeth, the gesture was enough to send shooting sparks straight through his body. “Just for tonight?” Fernando clarified, so close that his words were almost caressing Sergio’s lips.
“Just for tonight,” Sergio agreed his hands already gripping Fernando’s waist. “But this is your last chance, Nando. If you don’t want this, tell me no. I’ll walk away.”
Fernando bit his lip and tried to force his mind to reconsider the situation like Sergio was giving him time for, but it was impossible when Sergio was close and he was so sick of fighting with himself all the time, so tired of the constant struggle to try and stay away from something his body needed so desperately.
“No.” Fernando whispered, but even as the word escaped his mouth, his fingers were twining themselves into the front of Sergio’s wet shirt to stop his retreat and the next second their lips met in a fervent kiss.
*
“Just for tonight” morphed into “just for 24 hours” and subsequently into “just for 48 hours”.
The party raged from the locker room, to the after party, to the plane, to the welcoming party and finished with an eight hour parade through Madrid. It was exhausting and at the end of it Fernando found himself in Sergio’s room attempting to keep his eyes open for the final few hours that they had together. But now, the 48 hours had come to an end and it was time to say goodbye...
“I don’t want to leave.” Fernando admitted softly, his eyes tracing lazily over the ceiling.
“I don’t want you to leave either,” Sergio agreed softly, his voice thick with exhaustion. “But since you have to, please promise that you’ll call this time. I don’t want to go four months without talking to you again, Nando.”
“I’ll call once a week,” Fernando smiled.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
They were quiet for a long time, each caught up in the own thoughts or perhaps just trying to figure out where to begin.
“Did I ruin everything between us?” Fernando finally asked hesitantly.
Sergio dropped his arm and shook his head, “no. We had our time. We had our moment. It was never meant to last forever. You made the right choice Nando.”
“Then why does it hurt so fucking much?” Fernando whispered.
Sergio rolled onto his side and looked at Fernando’s profile. “Because for a brief second in time... we were perfect together; it’s hard to let go of something like that.”
Fernando turned and traced his eyes over Sergio’s open and honest face and knew that he was right. They had been perfect together. Right from day one their friendship and subsequent relationship had been beautiful - so elegant in its simplicity. But hell, they had only been kids when they met; too young and wrapped up in the excitement of life to truly appreciate the connection they had. They had taken everything for granted, too young and naive to realise that when you found something as perfect as that, that you cling on with both hands and never let it out of your sight.
“I’m sorry,” Fernando whispered.
“For what?”
“I don’t know...Everything... Nothing.... There are so many things, Sese. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Don’t apologise for things that you can’t change. It is what it is.” Sergio reached out and twined his fingers through Fernando’s. “We made lots of mistakes and they were all a long time ago. What’s done is done.”
Fernando smiled softly. “So last night wasn’t a mistake?”
“No. Not for me.”
Fernando shifted a little closer, close enough for their noses to brush, “so what do we do now?”
“We do what we always do, we say goodbye and go back to our lives.”
“That’s a shitty system.”
“Yeah, it is. But we’re footballers. It’s what we do.”
“Nah,” Fernando disagreed with a smile, “we’re World Cup winning footballers.”
*
THE END
*
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve.
*
Big thanks to everyone who has read and commented along the way! I really appreciate it :)
ikkinn go_for_it_kid gummy_love _nereis_ sgh15 agarina_bloom influira 9torres4ramos15 fuchifuchi elisa88 lady_quark sumrndmgrl falafhel asalieangel nandolove28 livelaughlovex7 berry_tallcake titania_torres sadwal1538 youdistractme sashaj22 silly_walker robbie96 howaboutnoo agarina_bloom sergio_09_10 jumping_down charliemurder wolvenal adorerdollylux crombieeagle872 bossbadger fleudelys_nine gallnerbaby cricket213 rain_s_child just_shiyo x_malfoymanor_x everyforever snuzzie eviehh fleudelys_nine kata_c gomusing kissmecait17 perfectmeteor elemersglue leia_in_pajamas secondstar suiko28 phantom_scribe twilightsongs ttentten m00bs lolita_kah schizojunkie ossabelle_x incest_bros lee_gerrard derrykerry bbluejenn117
I'm thinking about writing a prequal of sorts, based around this:
“Don’t apologise for things that you can’t change. It is what it is.” Sergio reached out and twined his fingers through Fernando’s. “We made lots of mistakes and they were all a long time ago. What’s done is done.”
I'd like to explore how Sernando got started :)
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: Complete (12/12)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. This story is a work of fiction and came from the deepest darkest corner of my imagination.
*~*Part Twelve*~*
The celebrations began in a muddle of red and gold. Fernando lost Sergio in the mess three or four times before finally letting his mind accept that this couldn’t be forced. Everything was pure chaos - too many cameras, too many fans, too many cheers and laughs and tears mixed up in the fierce pride that threatened to overwhelm them all. So Fernando let Sergio slip out of sight and allowed himself to relax; truly relax for the first time in a very long time. This was a moment to be enjoyed. There was no use over thinking it.
It was easy to get caught up in the celebration. Easy to ignore the press and let everything happening around him blur into one big golden jumble. But then Sergio would have an arm around his shoulders and he’d fly back down to earth long enough to return the embrace before they were lost in the confusion once more.
It was all ridiculously surreal - he had the World Cup in his hands and he was shaking hands with the queen. Then he was standing in front of a sea of press trying to find the words that were eloquent enough to truly describe how this felt - but how could he describe something as indescribable as this? He had just achieved something that he had been working towards his entire life. How could you even begin to describe the feeling you get when the fruits of your labour have finally reached fruition? And then there was Sergio... running around in an endless bubble of energy, tossing out infectious smiles and always managing to find his way back to Fernando’s side before disappearing once more.
Fernando was pretty sure he was about to burst with the beauty of it all.
*
He had a bottle of wine in each hand. Where in the heck had they come from? One was empty; he had dumped that one over Iker’s head. The other one was half full; it had made its rounds around the locker room before Sergio had taken it hostage as a weapon. If someone was about to spray him with champagne, then at least he could reciprocate. Already the locker room smelt like a brewery, the floor was sticky in places and slippery in others and everyone’s hair was sticking up in wet sticky tufts. Fernando’s was the worst, Sergio wasn’t sure who had attacked him with the champagne, but every time Sergio looked over, Fernando had his fingers in it and as a result it was constantly sticking up in a different direction.
Once they were all off the pitch there was dozens of speeches punctuated with cheers and chants as everyone started drinking in their kits and shower shoes. Sergio lost track of the amount of beers consumed by the team, but if the state of the locker room was any indication then he was pretty sure they were all on their happy journey to inebriation. Iker’s speech was probably the best. He only got a couple of sentences in before the champagne fight began.
The yells and shouts must have carried all the way to Spain. Sergio had never heard anything like it. It was chaos. It was almost as though no one quite knew how to expel their excitement, so everyone just returned to their Euro 2008 antics and pulled out the champagne.
The fight was still in full swing when Sergio got a hold of Fernando’s hand and the two of them made their escape to the far side of the locker room away from the danger of being drowned in wine.
“I think I have champagne in my eyes,” Fernando complained, wiping his eyes with both hands. He had champagne running down his neck and his shirt was plastered to his skin.
Sergio reached out and ran his fingers through the front of Fernando’s hair. The short strands were sticky to touch and stood up in messy spikes as Sergio pushed the tresses back from Fernando’s forehead. Amused by the effect, Sergio dropped his hand and smirked, “that’s disgusting, Nando.”
Fernando rolled his eyes, “I know. I’m going for a shower.”
“Can I come?”
He had meant it in a joking manner. But when Fernando paused and looked over his shoulder at him, all sense of mockery went out the window. They stared at each other for a split second before Fernando reached out and shoved Sergio back into the line of lockers.
The lockers were cold and hard against the skin of Sergio’s back as he smashed into them. The impact sent Sergio’s breath whooshing from his lungs and he stared at Fernando in surprise as he held him against the metal with strong assured hands. “Why did you say yes?” Fernando whispered curiously his breath hot against Sergio’s neck.
Sergio let out a breath, their faces so close that he could see every freckle scattered across Fernando’s nose. “Because it’s you and I can’t stay away.”
Fernando’s eyes drifted over Sergio’s face, lingering on his full bottom lip. Oh gods he could just imagine how delicious it would be to lean forward and nibble it gently into his mouth. As he watched Sergio caught it nervously between his teeth, the gesture was enough to send shooting sparks straight through his body. “Just for tonight?” Fernando clarified, so close that his words were almost caressing Sergio’s lips.
“Just for tonight,” Sergio agreed his hands already gripping Fernando’s waist. “But this is your last chance, Nando. If you don’t want this, tell me no. I’ll walk away.”
Fernando bit his lip and tried to force his mind to reconsider the situation like Sergio was giving him time for, but it was impossible when Sergio was close and he was so sick of fighting with himself all the time, so tired of the constant struggle to try and stay away from something his body needed so desperately.
“No.” Fernando whispered, but even as the word escaped his mouth, his fingers were twining themselves into the front of Sergio’s wet shirt to stop his retreat and the next second their lips met in a fervent kiss.
*
“Just for tonight” morphed into “just for 24 hours” and subsequently into “just for 48 hours”.
The party raged from the locker room, to the after party, to the plane, to the welcoming party and finished with an eight hour parade through Madrid. It was exhausting and at the end of it Fernando found himself in Sergio’s room attempting to keep his eyes open for the final few hours that they had together. But now, the 48 hours had come to an end and it was time to say goodbye...
“I don’t want to leave.” Fernando admitted softly, his eyes tracing lazily over the ceiling.
“I don’t want you to leave either,” Sergio agreed softly, his voice thick with exhaustion. “But since you have to, please promise that you’ll call this time. I don’t want to go four months without talking to you again, Nando.”
“I’ll call once a week,” Fernando smiled.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
They were quiet for a long time, each caught up in the own thoughts or perhaps just trying to figure out where to begin.
“Did I ruin everything between us?” Fernando finally asked hesitantly.
Sergio dropped his arm and shook his head, “no. We had our time. We had our moment. It was never meant to last forever. You made the right choice Nando.”
“Then why does it hurt so fucking much?” Fernando whispered.
Sergio rolled onto his side and looked at Fernando’s profile. “Because for a brief second in time... we were perfect together; it’s hard to let go of something like that.”
Fernando turned and traced his eyes over Sergio’s open and honest face and knew that he was right. They had been perfect together. Right from day one their friendship and subsequent relationship had been beautiful - so elegant in its simplicity. But hell, they had only been kids when they met; too young and wrapped up in the excitement of life to truly appreciate the connection they had. They had taken everything for granted, too young and naive to realise that when you found something as perfect as that, that you cling on with both hands and never let it out of your sight.
“I’m sorry,” Fernando whispered.
“For what?”
“I don’t know...Everything... Nothing.... There are so many things, Sese. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Don’t apologise for things that you can’t change. It is what it is.” Sergio reached out and twined his fingers through Fernando’s. “We made lots of mistakes and they were all a long time ago. What’s done is done.”
Fernando smiled softly. “So last night wasn’t a mistake?”
“No. Not for me.”
Fernando shifted a little closer, close enough for their noses to brush, “so what do we do now?”
“We do what we always do, we say goodbye and go back to our lives.”
“That’s a shitty system.”
“Yeah, it is. But we’re footballers. It’s what we do.”
“Nah,” Fernando disagreed with a smile, “we’re World Cup winning footballers.”
*
THE END
*
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve.
*
Big thanks to everyone who has read and commented along the way! I really appreciate it :)
ikkinn go_for_it_kid gummy_love _nereis_ sgh15 agarina_bloom influira 9torres4ramos15 fuchifuchi elisa88 lady_quark sumrndmgrl falafhel asalieangel nandolove28 livelaughlovex7 berry_tallcake titania_torres sadwal1538 youdistractme sashaj22 silly_walker robbie96 howaboutnoo agarina_bloom sergio_09_10 jumping_down charliemurder wolvenal adorerdollylux crombieeagle872 bossbadger fleudelys_nine gallnerbaby cricket213 rain_s_child just_shiyo x_malfoymanor_x everyforever snuzzie eviehh fleudelys_nine kata_c gomusing kissmecait17 perfectmeteor elemersglue leia_in_pajamas secondstar suiko28 phantom_scribe twilightsongs ttentten m00bs lolita_kah schizojunkie ossabelle_x incest_bros lee_gerrard derrykerry bbluejenn117
I'm thinking about writing a prequal of sorts, based around this:
“Don’t apologise for things that you can’t change. It is what it is.” Sergio reached out and twined his fingers through Fernando’s. “We made lots of mistakes and they were all a long time ago. What’s done is done.”
I'd like to explore how Sernando got started :)