[Fic]Those First Times ... : Confession (3/?) (Ole Gunnar Solskjaer / Paul Scholes)
It's been a while since the last time I posted this. Hope there is any of you who still remember .. ;)
Title : Those First Times ... - Chapter 3. Confession
Author : hiro_chan
Pairing : Ole Gunnar Solskjaer / Paul Scholes
Rating : PG
Author's Note :
1. As is with the previous chapters, this one's still for Trisha :). I was planning to post this on your birthday, but was unexpectedly getting overwhelmed by the dissertation projects. So this is one moth late, but happy belated birthday :D. This is not the best stuff I've written, but hopefully you still like it.
2. Many hugs and kisses for esther_91 for feeding my muse with this idea. And where have you been lately, babe? Haven't hear from you for so long TT__TT! Hope you're doing well.. :).
The party was at once a success and a disaster.
It was a success because everyone was having a blast. The food was tasty, the drink choices top class, the place befitting for a party of that which was held by United players, and the laughter was never ending. For once there was no girl in the party, because Gary insisted that this year there'd be no strippers invited (Ole had a feeling that some of the guys might regret making Gaz the head of the committee. Or perhaps, this was Gaz' way of revenge, for being made the head of committee). It would be only us, the players, Gary declared, having fun and bonded together.
It was a disaster because by the end of the night, over half of them were too stoned to get home unassisted. The committee (which consisted of the “Fergie's Fledglings” put together - the mark of the coming of age, said Choccy, because afterall, this season is the first season of them playing continuously together in first team), of course, were unlucky enough to not able to get stoned because they have to take care of the whole thing. Well, except Ryan, who got special permissions from the seniors because he'd been in the team for so long. The other youngsters could only grumble at that.
So by the end of the night, they were taking straw to decide who should take home who. Some, who were still coherent, were sent away with taxis. Others, who had booze up to their throat, were the fledglings' responsibility to take home safely.
“Why, again, should I be the one taking Keany home?”
Paul, who was in front of him, whined again as he tried to shift Roy's weight on his back. But of course, Roy was too tall far him and therefore, the older man's feet touched the asphalt as Paul dragged him across the parking lot.
Ole would have laughed, had it not been for the fact that he himself was struggling with Eric's dead weight on his back. He sighed as the Frenchman let out a loud snore next to his ear. “It's because you took the straw with his name,” Ole said unnecessarily.
“But I have taken him home before this. And his house was too far from mine. 'S not fair,” he whined again, louder this time. Ole thought it was a bit uncharacteristic of him, but having to take care of so many drunken seniors might took its toll on him. “God, I hope he doesn't drool on my shirt.”
Ole wasn't so lucky - he knew Eric had drooled on his shoulder. He winced at that. He wasn't sure he wanted to ever wear this shirt again, no matter how much he worshipped the French man.
The slow trek to the parking lot was filled with Paul's grumbles, and Ole uttered a silent thanks to whatever God up there when they finally reached their cars. He shrugged Eric off his back, making him leant to the car while he patted his pockets for the keys and opened the passenger door.
“Come on, Eric, in you go,” he said, pulling at the older man's arm. “Time to go home.”
Eric just blinked owlishly at him, and made a grand gestures with his hand. “Nonzenze! Ze night eez stll young!”
“Eric...”
“Ze moon's lovely toniiight, lad,” the big man rambled on. “Let's find... hrrrmm, what do you English said it? Birds! Yezz, let's find ze biirds an' - an' 'ave more fun.”
“I'm not English and no, we are not going to go and find any woman now. In to the car, Eric, come on, you need to go home and sleep.”
“Oh no. Ze night's young - why rush to bed now? We iz ztill having fun, yees??”
Ole stared mournfully at the older man. Hm, what was it that Becks said about dealing with Eric? He knew that Becks gave him some advises when he was struggling to haul Eric onto his back. Ah, yes ...
“Eric, please, it's time to go home. Tell you what, I'll help you clean up, make you a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows and crackers, and put on the jazz CD for you, okay? Can we just go home?”
Ole groaned inwardly at what he had to do. All he wanted was just to go home and bury himself under the cover until next week. At least Becks said Eric should be asleep as soon as he hit the pillows, so he probably, probably didn't have to do the things he just promised ...
Eric stared at him. “Two spoons of ze sugar. And green marrzzmallows. I don't - don't want ze pink ones. And cheeze crackers.”
Ole almost smiled in relief. “Whatever you want, Eric, as long as you get into the car so I can get you home.”
He cheered silently as Eric slowly got into the car and shut the door. He turned to see how Paul fared with Roy, and found the pair in heated argument.
“- that a fucking way to talk to me, boy?” came Roy's voice, loud but slurred.
“Just get your feet the fuck in to the fucking bleeding car, Keany! Or I'll just slam the fucking door shut and see how you'd like it.”
“... I'll fucking remember this,” Roy snarled. “Fucking hell, what do they teach kids nowadays? I'll tell the Boss tomorrow, just you see. This is a fucking insubordination - “
“Whatever, Keany. Just put your fucking feet in - “
“Fucking kill you in the training tomorrow, boyo - “
“If you can make it to the training tomorrow, mate. Now put. The feet. In to the car. So we can go home.”
Ole could see that Paul was at his wits end, and he really didn't want to see what would happen if Roy kept testing the redhead's patience. Time for the rescue, he thought.
He jogged towards where Paul was standing, the younger man shot him an exasperated and pleading stare, and crouched down near Roy. “Keany, get your feet into the car, yeah? We are all tired, so the sooner you get your feet to the car, the sooner you can go to sleep on your comfortable bed. Alright? Alright, Keany?”
The anger in those glazed eyes melted somewhat as the older man's gaze shifted towards him, and after a while, he nodded in satisfaction. “There are still young people with manners,” he said, lifting his feet into the car, and behind him, Ole heard Paul slapped his hand to his face, moaning in exasperation. Ole closed the door and turned to him. “You alright?”
The redhead stared at him mournfully. “I actually did ask him nicely at the beginning, you know?”
Ole could only smile and nodded. “Don't worry, he doesn't realise what he's doing. He'll probably forget all of it tomorrow and won't kill you.”
Paul sighed, rubbing his hands on his face. “Well, at least it's over. Let's just hope he won't throw tantrums in the car,” he smiled at the Norwegian. “Thanks for the help.”
“No problem,” he said, and perhaps it was the redness of Paul's cheeks in the freezing winter, or the small smile on his face, or the way the moment - this very second - felt, but Ole couldn't help but call out as Paul turned to walk to the car. “Wait,” he said. “I - I need to say something.”
A frown on his face and his head tilted sideways as Paul stared at him in curiosity. “What? Make it quick, Ole, cos it's freezing here.”
“I like you.”
“... thanks, I guess? You're quite alright too, Ole.”
Ole sighed. “Not like that. Not as a friend. What I mean is I like you.”
Paul stared, and stared, before the message kicked in and he spluttered. “What? Are you crazy??”
“Might be better if I did,” he shrugged. “But no, I'm not crazy. And yes, I'm serious, I do like you, like I would feel to a girlfriend.”
“I'm NOT a girl,” Paul said indignantly.
“I know.”
“And we are both MEN!”
“I know, Paul. It doesn't matter though, does it? It shouldn't matter.”
“Are you MAD, Ole? Are you drunk?”
“I'm not mad,” he sighed. “And I'm perfectly sober. And perfectly serious. I don't mean to make fun of you, Paul. I'm sorry, I know this is maybe upsetting - “
“MAYBE? UPSETTING??”
Ole sighed. Looked like he underestimate and oversimplify how this confession thing would turn out. This thing was definitely new to Paul and he was definitely freaking out. Ole berated himself - he should've picked a more proper time and preparation.
“Okay, Paul, calm down, please? I am really sorry if you are upset but - can I explain?”
Paul's lips were a thin straight line and Ole could see that he was trying to control himself. “I'm calm. But please explain.”
It was then that Ole realised he really didn't know what to say. How did he explain this feeling without upsetting Paul evenmore? He didn't have time to reconstruct his argument, and just hope whatever it was that he was going to say would go well with Paul.
“You know there is time when you don't plan for it but somehow, when the right person comes along, you just fall? That's what happens. I certainly didn't plan on it - didn't plan on liking you this way. I didn't come to the club looking for lover - I just want to play football in a good team. I didn't come to the club trying to unsettle anyone's life, by trying to have same sex relationship. No. I'm not that pathetic. Besides - besides I have Silje and she is good for me. But you - but you - you just happened. It just - happened.”
“Why me?”
He shrugged haplessly. “I don't know. It's just the combination of things, I suppose. I honestly can't put my fingers on it.”
Just then, the car door was opened and Roy yelled drunkenly, “Oi, driver, when are we going home??!!”
“I don't know how to feel about this, Ole. This - This is all too sudden, so unexpected and... I just can't wrap my mind around it.”
“I know. It's fine. I guess I just - just wanted to say how I feel. So I don't keep it inside for too long. It's been long enough.”
Paul raised his brows at this. “Oh? Since when?”
Again, Ole could only shrugged. “I don't know. Quite a while, I suppose. I don't know how or when it started, it was just there one day and been there eversince.”
“DRIIIIVVVEEERRRR!!! OI! We going home or not??”
“Shut up, Keany,” Paul snapped half heartedly. He sighed and turned to Ole. “I'm ... flattered, I guess. You're nice and top bloke and all. But I just ... I never think about this, I guess. I'm - I - I don't think I lean that way.”
“It's alright, I know this is very out of the blue and such. It's fine, Paul --”
“OI BRAT! Come on and drive me home! Or I'll take the car and drive myself!”
“-- I just want to get this feeling out. I'm sorry if I, well, freak you up. I hope you won't avoid me after this. I swear I won't do anything strange - I just... well, we can still be friends and not let this be between us, right?”
Ole knew he is asking something difficult. He knew Paul wouldn't be able to forget this soon - eventhough he tried to be calm, Ole could see in his eyes that he was pretty unsettled and distressed. But he could see that there was determination in the other man's eyes not to let this whole thing bother him for too long.
“Yeah, yeah, of course we will still be friends. I enjoy your company too much to let it ruined by this. Uhm, as a friend, of course....” He groaned then, covering his face with his hand. “God, I sound like a homophobe, don't I? I'm sorry, I don't mean to. It's just - I've never think of myself being - being that way and - “
“Paul. Paul, Scholesy, hey. It's okay. It's okay, I'm not offended. I understand,” Ole said, smiling disarmedly to make Paul feel better.
The loud honking almost made them jump in surprise, and they turned to see Roy pressing the honk repeatedly, a mad, gleeful grin on his face.
“ Fucking hell,” Paul groaned in annoyance, but Ole could see that he was also kind of relieved for the distraction. “I should, you know, probably go and take him home before he does anything worse … “
The honking stopped and it was quiet for a while and Ole nodded. “ Yeah, you go ahead. Be careful, okay?”
“Yeah, I will,” he smiled that small smile of his, but hesitated when he was about to walk away. He turned back to Ole, running his fingers through his short hair, and said, “listen. I know I didn’t react to well to it when you.. eerrrmm … you know, saidyoulikeme, but thanks for saying it.”
Something in Paul’s unsure way, the way he nervously ran his hand on his hair, the way he shifted from foot to foot, as if undecided whether he should go now or not, somehow made Ole realise that he still has a chance in this. Paul was reacting this way because this was too sudden, but if he persevered, if he could find the right way to make Paul believe that he wanted this also …
He smiled then. He still had a good chance. He just needed to be patient. “I’ll see you in training then.”
The honking sounded again, this time Roy’s face was plastered on the window, making his face looked disconcerting under the yellow light of the street lamp, and Paul said, “Alright. I really have to go now.”
“Yeah. Be careful when driving.”
“I will,” he grinned, the tension in his body started to melt away, and he jogged to the car. Ole watched as he fussed and snapped at Roy, who naturally talked back and the engine was running and the head lamps turned on, and with a wave, Paul drove away.
Ole walked towards his own car, just feeling now the freezing wind of the new year, his mind started forming up ideas how to make his subtle advances. He should take it slow - he knew Paul would be difficult to persuade. He wasn’t the type to fall for simple charms and the likes.
Just then his own car door was opened and Eric jutted his head out and looked around. “ZIZ IZ NOT HOME YET!!”
Ole sighed. The plan should wait later. Time to get another drunk home.
-end-
Title : Those First Times ... - Chapter 3. Confession
Author : hiro_chan
Pairing : Ole Gunnar Solskjaer / Paul Scholes
Rating : PG
Author's Note :
1. As is with the previous chapters, this one's still for Trisha :). I was planning to post this on your birthday, but was unexpectedly getting overwhelmed by the dissertation projects. So this is one moth late, but happy belated birthday :D. This is not the best stuff I've written, but hopefully you still like it.
2. Many hugs and kisses for esther_91 for feeding my muse with this idea. And where have you been lately, babe? Haven't hear from you for so long TT__TT! Hope you're doing well.. :).
The party was at once a success and a disaster.
It was a success because everyone was having a blast. The food was tasty, the drink choices top class, the place befitting for a party of that which was held by United players, and the laughter was never ending. For once there was no girl in the party, because Gary insisted that this year there'd be no strippers invited (Ole had a feeling that some of the guys might regret making Gaz the head of the committee. Or perhaps, this was Gaz' way of revenge, for being made the head of committee). It would be only us, the players, Gary declared, having fun and bonded together.
It was a disaster because by the end of the night, over half of them were too stoned to get home unassisted. The committee (which consisted of the “Fergie's Fledglings” put together - the mark of the coming of age, said Choccy, because afterall, this season is the first season of them playing continuously together in first team), of course, were unlucky enough to not able to get stoned because they have to take care of the whole thing. Well, except Ryan, who got special permissions from the seniors because he'd been in the team for so long. The other youngsters could only grumble at that.
So by the end of the night, they were taking straw to decide who should take home who. Some, who were still coherent, were sent away with taxis. Others, who had booze up to their throat, were the fledglings' responsibility to take home safely.
“Why, again, should I be the one taking Keany home?”
Paul, who was in front of him, whined again as he tried to shift Roy's weight on his back. But of course, Roy was too tall far him and therefore, the older man's feet touched the asphalt as Paul dragged him across the parking lot.
Ole would have laughed, had it not been for the fact that he himself was struggling with Eric's dead weight on his back. He sighed as the Frenchman let out a loud snore next to his ear. “It's because you took the straw with his name,” Ole said unnecessarily.
“But I have taken him home before this. And his house was too far from mine. 'S not fair,” he whined again, louder this time. Ole thought it was a bit uncharacteristic of him, but having to take care of so many drunken seniors might took its toll on him. “God, I hope he doesn't drool on my shirt.”
Ole wasn't so lucky - he knew Eric had drooled on his shoulder. He winced at that. He wasn't sure he wanted to ever wear this shirt again, no matter how much he worshipped the French man.
The slow trek to the parking lot was filled with Paul's grumbles, and Ole uttered a silent thanks to whatever God up there when they finally reached their cars. He shrugged Eric off his back, making him leant to the car while he patted his pockets for the keys and opened the passenger door.
“Come on, Eric, in you go,” he said, pulling at the older man's arm. “Time to go home.”
Eric just blinked owlishly at him, and made a grand gestures with his hand. “Nonzenze! Ze night eez stll young!”
“Eric...”
“Ze moon's lovely toniiight, lad,” the big man rambled on. “Let's find... hrrrmm, what do you English said it? Birds! Yezz, let's find ze biirds an' - an' 'ave more fun.”
“I'm not English and no, we are not going to go and find any woman now. In to the car, Eric, come on, you need to go home and sleep.”
“Oh no. Ze night's young - why rush to bed now? We iz ztill having fun, yees??”
Ole stared mournfully at the older man. Hm, what was it that Becks said about dealing with Eric? He knew that Becks gave him some advises when he was struggling to haul Eric onto his back. Ah, yes ...
“Eric, please, it's time to go home. Tell you what, I'll help you clean up, make you a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows and crackers, and put on the jazz CD for you, okay? Can we just go home?”
Ole groaned inwardly at what he had to do. All he wanted was just to go home and bury himself under the cover until next week. At least Becks said Eric should be asleep as soon as he hit the pillows, so he probably, probably didn't have to do the things he just promised ...
Eric stared at him. “Two spoons of ze sugar. And green marrzzmallows. I don't - don't want ze pink ones. And cheeze crackers.”
Ole almost smiled in relief. “Whatever you want, Eric, as long as you get into the car so I can get you home.”
He cheered silently as Eric slowly got into the car and shut the door. He turned to see how Paul fared with Roy, and found the pair in heated argument.
“- that a fucking way to talk to me, boy?” came Roy's voice, loud but slurred.
“Just get your feet the fuck in to the fucking bleeding car, Keany! Or I'll just slam the fucking door shut and see how you'd like it.”
“... I'll fucking remember this,” Roy snarled. “Fucking hell, what do they teach kids nowadays? I'll tell the Boss tomorrow, just you see. This is a fucking insubordination - “
“Whatever, Keany. Just put your fucking feet in - “
“Fucking kill you in the training tomorrow, boyo - “
“If you can make it to the training tomorrow, mate. Now put. The feet. In to the car. So we can go home.”
Ole could see that Paul was at his wits end, and he really didn't want to see what would happen if Roy kept testing the redhead's patience. Time for the rescue, he thought.
He jogged towards where Paul was standing, the younger man shot him an exasperated and pleading stare, and crouched down near Roy. “Keany, get your feet into the car, yeah? We are all tired, so the sooner you get your feet to the car, the sooner you can go to sleep on your comfortable bed. Alright? Alright, Keany?”
The anger in those glazed eyes melted somewhat as the older man's gaze shifted towards him, and after a while, he nodded in satisfaction. “There are still young people with manners,” he said, lifting his feet into the car, and behind him, Ole heard Paul slapped his hand to his face, moaning in exasperation. Ole closed the door and turned to him. “You alright?”
The redhead stared at him mournfully. “I actually did ask him nicely at the beginning, you know?”
Ole could only smile and nodded. “Don't worry, he doesn't realise what he's doing. He'll probably forget all of it tomorrow and won't kill you.”
Paul sighed, rubbing his hands on his face. “Well, at least it's over. Let's just hope he won't throw tantrums in the car,” he smiled at the Norwegian. “Thanks for the help.”
“No problem,” he said, and perhaps it was the redness of Paul's cheeks in the freezing winter, or the small smile on his face, or the way the moment - this very second - felt, but Ole couldn't help but call out as Paul turned to walk to the car. “Wait,” he said. “I - I need to say something.”
A frown on his face and his head tilted sideways as Paul stared at him in curiosity. “What? Make it quick, Ole, cos it's freezing here.”
“I like you.”
“... thanks, I guess? You're quite alright too, Ole.”
Ole sighed. “Not like that. Not as a friend. What I mean is I like you.”
Paul stared, and stared, before the message kicked in and he spluttered. “What? Are you crazy??”
“Might be better if I did,” he shrugged. “But no, I'm not crazy. And yes, I'm serious, I do like you, like I would feel to a girlfriend.”
“I'm NOT a girl,” Paul said indignantly.
“I know.”
“And we are both MEN!”
“I know, Paul. It doesn't matter though, does it? It shouldn't matter.”
“Are you MAD, Ole? Are you drunk?”
“I'm not mad,” he sighed. “And I'm perfectly sober. And perfectly serious. I don't mean to make fun of you, Paul. I'm sorry, I know this is maybe upsetting - “
“MAYBE? UPSETTING??”
Ole sighed. Looked like he underestimate and oversimplify how this confession thing would turn out. This thing was definitely new to Paul and he was definitely freaking out. Ole berated himself - he should've picked a more proper time and preparation.
“Okay, Paul, calm down, please? I am really sorry if you are upset but - can I explain?”
Paul's lips were a thin straight line and Ole could see that he was trying to control himself. “I'm calm. But please explain.”
It was then that Ole realised he really didn't know what to say. How did he explain this feeling without upsetting Paul evenmore? He didn't have time to reconstruct his argument, and just hope whatever it was that he was going to say would go well with Paul.
“You know there is time when you don't plan for it but somehow, when the right person comes along, you just fall? That's what happens. I certainly didn't plan on it - didn't plan on liking you this way. I didn't come to the club looking for lover - I just want to play football in a good team. I didn't come to the club trying to unsettle anyone's life, by trying to have same sex relationship. No. I'm not that pathetic. Besides - besides I have Silje and she is good for me. But you - but you - you just happened. It just - happened.”
“Why me?”
He shrugged haplessly. “I don't know. It's just the combination of things, I suppose. I honestly can't put my fingers on it.”
Just then, the car door was opened and Roy yelled drunkenly, “Oi, driver, when are we going home??!!”
“I don't know how to feel about this, Ole. This - This is all too sudden, so unexpected and... I just can't wrap my mind around it.”
“I know. It's fine. I guess I just - just wanted to say how I feel. So I don't keep it inside for too long. It's been long enough.”
Paul raised his brows at this. “Oh? Since when?”
Again, Ole could only shrugged. “I don't know. Quite a while, I suppose. I don't know how or when it started, it was just there one day and been there eversince.”
“DRIIIIVVVEEERRRR!!! OI! We going home or not??”
“Shut up, Keany,” Paul snapped half heartedly. He sighed and turned to Ole. “I'm ... flattered, I guess. You're nice and top bloke and all. But I just ... I never think about this, I guess. I'm - I - I don't think I lean that way.”
“It's alright, I know this is very out of the blue and such. It's fine, Paul --”
“OI BRAT! Come on and drive me home! Or I'll take the car and drive myself!”
“-- I just want to get this feeling out. I'm sorry if I, well, freak you up. I hope you won't avoid me after this. I swear I won't do anything strange - I just... well, we can still be friends and not let this be between us, right?”
Ole knew he is asking something difficult. He knew Paul wouldn't be able to forget this soon - eventhough he tried to be calm, Ole could see in his eyes that he was pretty unsettled and distressed. But he could see that there was determination in the other man's eyes not to let this whole thing bother him for too long.
“Yeah, yeah, of course we will still be friends. I enjoy your company too much to let it ruined by this. Uhm, as a friend, of course....” He groaned then, covering his face with his hand. “God, I sound like a homophobe, don't I? I'm sorry, I don't mean to. It's just - I've never think of myself being - being that way and - “
“Paul. Paul, Scholesy, hey. It's okay. It's okay, I'm not offended. I understand,” Ole said, smiling disarmedly to make Paul feel better.
The loud honking almost made them jump in surprise, and they turned to see Roy pressing the honk repeatedly, a mad, gleeful grin on his face.
“ Fucking hell,” Paul groaned in annoyance, but Ole could see that he was also kind of relieved for the distraction. “I should, you know, probably go and take him home before he does anything worse … “
The honking stopped and it was quiet for a while and Ole nodded. “ Yeah, you go ahead. Be careful, okay?”
“Yeah, I will,” he smiled that small smile of his, but hesitated when he was about to walk away. He turned back to Ole, running his fingers through his short hair, and said, “listen. I know I didn’t react to well to it when you.. eerrrmm … you know, saidyoulikeme, but thanks for saying it.”
Something in Paul’s unsure way, the way he nervously ran his hand on his hair, the way he shifted from foot to foot, as if undecided whether he should go now or not, somehow made Ole realise that he still has a chance in this. Paul was reacting this way because this was too sudden, but if he persevered, if he could find the right way to make Paul believe that he wanted this also …
He smiled then. He still had a good chance. He just needed to be patient. “I’ll see you in training then.”
The honking sounded again, this time Roy’s face was plastered on the window, making his face looked disconcerting under the yellow light of the street lamp, and Paul said, “Alright. I really have to go now.”
“Yeah. Be careful when driving.”
“I will,” he grinned, the tension in his body started to melt away, and he jogged to the car. Ole watched as he fussed and snapped at Roy, who naturally talked back and the engine was running and the head lamps turned on, and with a wave, Paul drove away.
Ole walked towards his own car, just feeling now the freezing wind of the new year, his mind started forming up ideas how to make his subtle advances. He should take it slow - he knew Paul would be difficult to persuade. He wasn’t the type to fall for simple charms and the likes.
Just then his own car door was opened and Eric jutted his head out and looked around. “ZIZ IZ NOT HOME YET!!”
Ole sighed. The plan should wait later. Time to get another drunk home.
-end-