You were always popular
Title: Stars (1/?)
Pairing: Daniel Agger/Fernando Torres
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is all fiction. I don't own the boys.
Notes: Inspired by this photo at caras_de_pecas. The prompt was "bodyguard Dan, up-and-coming singer Fernando, they spend long nights traveling cross-country on a tour bus and Dan has to use his body as a shield to prevent Fernando from getting trampled by fangirls."
The beautiful ones.
“Are you ready?” Daniel Agger asked. He could hear the feverish screams coming from the other side of the heavy-duty door of the arena.
Fernando Torres rubbed his hands together. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“God, are they still there? It’s nearly midnight for crying out loud,” Xabi Alonso groaned as he distributed everyone’s passports and plane tickets.
Steven Gerrard rubbed his partner’s back. “Now, now, everyone. They’ve all been waiting out there for the last hour. So Fernando, walk slowly and give everyone a nice, big smile.”
“Like fuck that’s gonna happen,” Daniel snorted. He fixed Fernando under his steely gaze. “I am basically hauling you out there and we are running straight for the van, do you understand?”
Fernando glanced from Daniel to Stevie. Who do you follow, your bodyguard or your manager? “Uh, Xabi?”
Xabi was also a manager, but while Stevie was the money-maker, the Big Boss who dealt with the Big Stuff like contracts and tours and endorsements, Xabi was the one who managed Fernando from day-to-day. He was the good cop to Stevie’s bad cop.
Xabi offered. “Well, maybe you can just walk the fastest you can without running. We don’t wanna seem ungrateful.”
“And smile, don’t forget!”
Fernando pulled his hood over his shock of blonde hair. As if that would make him any less recognisable. “Let’s do this.”
Dan took hold of the door handle. “Stevie, Xabi, do you prefer to go before or after?”
Xabi looked at his partner. “Before, we suffer the impatience of 16-year-old Thai girls. After, we suffer their mass hysteria.”
“Before,” Stevie said.
“Alright,” Dan said. He pushed open the door and was immediately met by a wall of sound. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Fernando wasn’t the golden boy just yet. They were just the front act on Cristiano Ronaldo’s Asian tour. But Fernando was slowly and steadily gaining a following. It was a small group, maybe just 250, 300 people after every show. But the strange thing about this business was, sometimes it was the smaller followings that were the more dedicated ones. Daniel could swear there were faces he saw at almost every concert.
The crowd started chanting Fernando’s name.
“No autographs, alright?”
Fernando smiled as if to say, if I don’t say yes, you can’t get mad at me later.
“No autographs, no pictures, no handshakes!” Dan said louder to be heard over the noise.
“Maybe one or two?” Fernando waved to some of the fans he could see through the crack in the door. One girl started to cry.
“No!”
They were still probably gonna stop for one or two fans, but Dan could forgive that.
Fernando poked his bodyguard, “And can you please be nice? They’re teenagers. They’re tiny. You don’t have to shove them aside any time they come too close.”
Daniel smiled as if to say, if I don’t say yes, you can’t get mad at me later.
The Spaniard rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.”
“Hey, hey, hey, keep it PG-13. Don’t let your fans hear you say bad words,” Dan wagged his finger. “Now come on, pretty boy. We’re gonna miss our flight.”
They stepped up to the door and the flashes from cameras began to pop from every angle. Dan wrapped one strong arm around Fernando’s waist and together, they walked into the pandemonium.
What the what. A new story? How did that happen?
Pairing: Daniel Agger/Fernando Torres
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is all fiction. I don't own the boys.
Notes: Inspired by this photo at caras_de_pecas. The prompt was "bodyguard Dan, up-and-coming singer Fernando, they spend long nights traveling cross-country on a tour bus and Dan has to use his body as a shield to prevent Fernando from getting trampled by fangirls."
The beautiful ones.
“Are you ready?” Daniel Agger asked. He could hear the feverish screams coming from the other side of the heavy-duty door of the arena.
Fernando Torres rubbed his hands together. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“God, are they still there? It’s nearly midnight for crying out loud,” Xabi Alonso groaned as he distributed everyone’s passports and plane tickets.
Steven Gerrard rubbed his partner’s back. “Now, now, everyone. They’ve all been waiting out there for the last hour. So Fernando, walk slowly and give everyone a nice, big smile.”
“Like fuck that’s gonna happen,” Daniel snorted. He fixed Fernando under his steely gaze. “I am basically hauling you out there and we are running straight for the van, do you understand?”
Fernando glanced from Daniel to Stevie. Who do you follow, your bodyguard or your manager? “Uh, Xabi?”
Xabi was also a manager, but while Stevie was the money-maker, the Big Boss who dealt with the Big Stuff like contracts and tours and endorsements, Xabi was the one who managed Fernando from day-to-day. He was the good cop to Stevie’s bad cop.
Xabi offered. “Well, maybe you can just walk the fastest you can without running. We don’t wanna seem ungrateful.”
“And smile, don’t forget!”
Fernando pulled his hood over his shock of blonde hair. As if that would make him any less recognisable. “Let’s do this.”
Dan took hold of the door handle. “Stevie, Xabi, do you prefer to go before or after?”
Xabi looked at his partner. “Before, we suffer the impatience of 16-year-old Thai girls. After, we suffer their mass hysteria.”
“Before,” Stevie said.
“Alright,” Dan said. He pushed open the door and was immediately met by a wall of sound. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Fernando wasn’t the golden boy just yet. They were just the front act on Cristiano Ronaldo’s Asian tour. But Fernando was slowly and steadily gaining a following. It was a small group, maybe just 250, 300 people after every show. But the strange thing about this business was, sometimes it was the smaller followings that were the more dedicated ones. Daniel could swear there were faces he saw at almost every concert.
The crowd started chanting Fernando’s name.
“No autographs, alright?”
Fernando smiled as if to say, if I don’t say yes, you can’t get mad at me later.
“No autographs, no pictures, no handshakes!” Dan said louder to be heard over the noise.
“Maybe one or two?” Fernando waved to some of the fans he could see through the crack in the door. One girl started to cry.
“No!”
They were still probably gonna stop for one or two fans, but Dan could forgive that.
Fernando poked his bodyguard, “And can you please be nice? They’re teenagers. They’re tiny. You don’t have to shove them aside any time they come too close.”
Daniel smiled as if to say, if I don’t say yes, you can’t get mad at me later.
The Spaniard rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.”
“Hey, hey, hey, keep it PG-13. Don’t let your fans hear you say bad words,” Dan wagged his finger. “Now come on, pretty boy. We’re gonna miss our flight.”
They stepped up to the door and the flashes from cameras began to pop from every angle. Dan wrapped one strong arm around Fernando’s waist and together, they walked into the pandemonium.
What the what. A new story? How did that happen?