fic: alors on danse
title: alors on danse
pairing: karim benzema/cristiano ronaldo
rating: nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
a/n: pretty_panther left a prompt of "one sober, one drunk, and trying to get home" on commentporn a very long time ago. i had started this, only a sentence but opened up the doc tonight, deleted it and started over. also, this is for my table, prompt - sweat the title is from a song with the same title by stromae. love that song.
It’s a balmy night and the fact that they stumbled out of Fabrik, one of Madrid’s hottest clubs (in all sense of the word) adds to sigh of relieve that sounds from the group of futbolistas. Well, they stumble out; Cristiano walks out, perfectly sober, clean and crisp as he was when he had entered the disco a night of partying with the boys of the team.
Unfortunately, he cannot say the same for some of his teammates.
Marcelo and Pepe have broken into Brazilian songs which he can no longer decipher from their drunken slurring. They’re hanging off each other though they keep trying to get Karim to jump in (the fact that he doesn’t know Portuguese or Brazilian songs - for the most part - is not important). Esteban, Raul and Alvaro are laughing loudly, the joke they were sharing inside the club no longer relevant but still very funny.
So it falls on Cristiano to hail the taxis and to subsequently haul all their drunk asses inside. Raul somehow manages to steal shotgun and laughs when Marcelo, Alvaro and Esteban squeeze in the back. Cristiano is about to call out to them to let them know that he has another cab but Pirata slammed the door and the car takes off. Cristiano just shakes his head.
“Karim.”
When he doesn’t get a response, Cristiano whips around and lets out a groan when he sees the Frenchman taking a piss in a nearby bush.
“Hurry up!”
He can’t understand what he says but Cristiano hears Karim mumble something before laughing to himself. Cristiano laughs too.
“You know,” he says when Karim finishes and makes his way back to him, “don’t be surprised if you make the cover of a tabloid tomorrow, with your dick out for everyone to see.”
“My dick is awesome.”
Cristiano just pushes the big Frenchman towards the waiting taxi with a grin on his lips.
Something happens that has never happened before. Karim begins to sing. It’s low and in French but Cristiano recognizes it as a popular dance song. The striker must have forgotten where he is because he’s staring out the window, tapping his fingers against the door, singing like it’s the most natural thing to do. And it is so Cristiano joins in. Karim stops abruptly but quickly joins in again with a laugh when he sees that Cristiano knows the words (despite his accent being horrible).
The taxi situation ends up working in their favour as they live very close to each other. The driver pulls up to Karim’s house first and when he has trouble with opening the car door, Cristiano hands the driver a few bills before helping Karim out and to his door.
Karim opts for leaning on the door, his eyes closing, his lips wearing a smile.
“Not the time for sleep,” Cristiano says quietly as he pats his cheek lightly. “Come on. Where are your keys?”
His eyes flicker open slowly and his black lashes catch Cristiano’s attention. His eyes have a slight glaze to them but it doesn’t take away from brown depth and Cristiano finds himself leaning in slightly before catches himself.
“Uh, keys?”
Laughing, Karim goes into the pockets of his trousers and tosses them to him as soon as he has them out. He pushes off the door only to fall back again, mumbling something in French as he does so.
Cristiano manages to get the door open without too much difficult and goes in first. He gropes the wall for a light switch and squints when the entry way becomes drenched in illumination. Karim hurries pass him, walking a path that would not pass as a straight line even if his father was a cop.
“Mi casa es su casa.”
Cristiano closes the door behind him, shaking his head before following his teammate. He ends up in a room that’s Karim, simple and white. The Frenchman automatically throws on some music, some kind of French rap and Cristiano laughs.
“Okay, time for me to leave. Try not to be too hung over at training tomorrow,” he turns around to face the door before spinning back around. “Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?”
Karim waves his hand, already in the process of removing his clothes. He’s peeled off his sweat soaked shirt but his skin is still lined with perspiration, especially around his neck and collarbone. He looks around the room for something, unaware that a set of eyes are watching him closely.
“Stay. I can’t believe you don’t drink,” his words are slurred but that doesn’t stop him from walking over to a table-turned-into-bar. He pours in a healthy glass of rum and sips. “Stay.”
Cristiano shakes his head. “It’s late and with training tomorrow, I really don’t want Mourinho on our asses about being late.”
Karim is about to reply when the song switches to a song that must be his favourite because his face lights up in a huge smile and he begins to bob his head. The opening verse starts and he’s lost within the music, rapping along with the lyrics. Despite being near shitfaced drunk, he doesn’t miss a single word.
All Cristiano can do is watch in awe. Karim’s never very open with anyone, not in this sense anyway. He’s getting better with his Spanish and out of everyone in the team he speaks to Cristiano the most, feels the most comfortable with and has said it publically. But to see Karim’s inhibitions so low that they are nearly nonexistent right now, Cristiano almost wants to blink. He’s shirtless and rapping like it’s no one’s business and Cristiano doesn’t know what to do.
Karim is different - from the norm, from the others, from himself. And Cristiano won’t deny that he’s felt an attraction to him before, feels one now. Maybe it’s because he is unlike what Cristiano is attracted to. His body type is bigger and not as firm than what usually gets his attention, his head shaved whereas Cristiano likes something to hold onto - male or female. He’s quiet and doesn’t scream ‘confident’ in most situations.
Yet Cristiano is okay with this. He must be because he finds himself approaching his teammate and stopping right in front of him. When Karim becomes aware of his surroundings once again, he stops swaying his body, the drink still in his hand, a smile on his lips.
And Cristiano kisses him. He leans in and presses his body against Karim’s, bringing his hand to curl around a bare and damp shoulder. When it comes to first kisses Cristiano never does tentative, always gives it his all because he sees it as a first chance to make the initial impression. You can never have a do-over first kiss. So he places his lips against Karim’s and kisses him - not hard yet not soft - and when he feels Karim sway his body towards him, he kisses him a little harder.
The taste of rum is distinct and heavy on Karim’s tongue when Cristiano pushes past his lips. He can feel sweat against his skin as he skates his fingers up past his collarbone to his neck, cupping him in place as he kisses him without caution.
They end up on Karim’s bed minutes later with both of their clothes strewn everywhere. Karim’s naked but Cristiano’s still has his jeans on though unbuttoned and unzipped. He has the Frenchman under him, his body quivering as Cristiano kisses from his neck down to his waist. He raises his head just before going any further and when he sees Karim’s eyelids flickering. A thought comes into Cristiano’s mind, whether or not this is a good idea and really he doesn’t know if it is.
Yet he licks Karim’s cock from base to tip and doesn’t stop as he takes it into his mouth. He’s well aware of the quiet moan that comes from above him and he lets that along with the music be the soundtrack as he licks and sucks.
Perhaps the most odd thing to him isn’t the fact that he’s here, in the position he is in with a teammate, or that he brings said teammate off but when he’s done and looks up to see Karim’s blissed face, he gets up, buttons his jeans up and grabs his discarded shirt from the floor before leaning down and placing a kiss to Karim’s lips.
The Frenchman’s eyes whip open and when he sees that Cristiano is fully dressed again, he opens his lips to speak only to be cut off with a kiss again.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning. Maybe drink some water so you won’t wake up drunk.”
When he leaves, Karim’s laughter follows him on the way out.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
notes:
1. cristiano is well known to not drink. if you don't believe me you can read it here
2. the song karim is singing in the cab is alors on danse by stromae it was a major hit club song in 2010
3. karim and cristiano do live pretty close to each other as he states in an interview where he also states that he's the most comfortable speaking spanish with cris (and kaka)
pairing: karim benzema/cristiano ronaldo
rating: nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
a/n: pretty_panther left a prompt of "one sober, one drunk, and trying to get home" on commentporn a very long time ago. i had started this, only a sentence but opened up the doc tonight, deleted it and started over. also, this is for my table, prompt - sweat the title is from a song with the same title by stromae. love that song.
It’s a balmy night and the fact that they stumbled out of Fabrik, one of Madrid’s hottest clubs (in all sense of the word) adds to sigh of relieve that sounds from the group of futbolistas. Well, they stumble out; Cristiano walks out, perfectly sober, clean and crisp as he was when he had entered the disco a night of partying with the boys of the team.
Unfortunately, he cannot say the same for some of his teammates.
Marcelo and Pepe have broken into Brazilian songs which he can no longer decipher from their drunken slurring. They’re hanging off each other though they keep trying to get Karim to jump in (the fact that he doesn’t know Portuguese or Brazilian songs - for the most part - is not important). Esteban, Raul and Alvaro are laughing loudly, the joke they were sharing inside the club no longer relevant but still very funny.
So it falls on Cristiano to hail the taxis and to subsequently haul all their drunk asses inside. Raul somehow manages to steal shotgun and laughs when Marcelo, Alvaro and Esteban squeeze in the back. Cristiano is about to call out to them to let them know that he has another cab but Pirata slammed the door and the car takes off. Cristiano just shakes his head.
“Karim.”
When he doesn’t get a response, Cristiano whips around and lets out a groan when he sees the Frenchman taking a piss in a nearby bush.
“Hurry up!”
He can’t understand what he says but Cristiano hears Karim mumble something before laughing to himself. Cristiano laughs too.
“You know,” he says when Karim finishes and makes his way back to him, “don’t be surprised if you make the cover of a tabloid tomorrow, with your dick out for everyone to see.”
“My dick is awesome.”
Cristiano just pushes the big Frenchman towards the waiting taxi with a grin on his lips.
Something happens that has never happened before. Karim begins to sing. It’s low and in French but Cristiano recognizes it as a popular dance song. The striker must have forgotten where he is because he’s staring out the window, tapping his fingers against the door, singing like it’s the most natural thing to do. And it is so Cristiano joins in. Karim stops abruptly but quickly joins in again with a laugh when he sees that Cristiano knows the words (despite his accent being horrible).
The taxi situation ends up working in their favour as they live very close to each other. The driver pulls up to Karim’s house first and when he has trouble with opening the car door, Cristiano hands the driver a few bills before helping Karim out and to his door.
Karim opts for leaning on the door, his eyes closing, his lips wearing a smile.
“Not the time for sleep,” Cristiano says quietly as he pats his cheek lightly. “Come on. Where are your keys?”
His eyes flicker open slowly and his black lashes catch Cristiano’s attention. His eyes have a slight glaze to them but it doesn’t take away from brown depth and Cristiano finds himself leaning in slightly before catches himself.
“Uh, keys?”
Laughing, Karim goes into the pockets of his trousers and tosses them to him as soon as he has them out. He pushes off the door only to fall back again, mumbling something in French as he does so.
Cristiano manages to get the door open without too much difficult and goes in first. He gropes the wall for a light switch and squints when the entry way becomes drenched in illumination. Karim hurries pass him, walking a path that would not pass as a straight line even if his father was a cop.
“Mi casa es su casa.”
Cristiano closes the door behind him, shaking his head before following his teammate. He ends up in a room that’s Karim, simple and white. The Frenchman automatically throws on some music, some kind of French rap and Cristiano laughs.
“Okay, time for me to leave. Try not to be too hung over at training tomorrow,” he turns around to face the door before spinning back around. “Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?”
Karim waves his hand, already in the process of removing his clothes. He’s peeled off his sweat soaked shirt but his skin is still lined with perspiration, especially around his neck and collarbone. He looks around the room for something, unaware that a set of eyes are watching him closely.
“Stay. I can’t believe you don’t drink,” his words are slurred but that doesn’t stop him from walking over to a table-turned-into-bar. He pours in a healthy glass of rum and sips. “Stay.”
Cristiano shakes his head. “It’s late and with training tomorrow, I really don’t want Mourinho on our asses about being late.”
Karim is about to reply when the song switches to a song that must be his favourite because his face lights up in a huge smile and he begins to bob his head. The opening verse starts and he’s lost within the music, rapping along with the lyrics. Despite being near shitfaced drunk, he doesn’t miss a single word.
All Cristiano can do is watch in awe. Karim’s never very open with anyone, not in this sense anyway. He’s getting better with his Spanish and out of everyone in the team he speaks to Cristiano the most, feels the most comfortable with and has said it publically. But to see Karim’s inhibitions so low that they are nearly nonexistent right now, Cristiano almost wants to blink. He’s shirtless and rapping like it’s no one’s business and Cristiano doesn’t know what to do.
Karim is different - from the norm, from the others, from himself. And Cristiano won’t deny that he’s felt an attraction to him before, feels one now. Maybe it’s because he is unlike what Cristiano is attracted to. His body type is bigger and not as firm than what usually gets his attention, his head shaved whereas Cristiano likes something to hold onto - male or female. He’s quiet and doesn’t scream ‘confident’ in most situations.
Yet Cristiano is okay with this. He must be because he finds himself approaching his teammate and stopping right in front of him. When Karim becomes aware of his surroundings once again, he stops swaying his body, the drink still in his hand, a smile on his lips.
And Cristiano kisses him. He leans in and presses his body against Karim’s, bringing his hand to curl around a bare and damp shoulder. When it comes to first kisses Cristiano never does tentative, always gives it his all because he sees it as a first chance to make the initial impression. You can never have a do-over first kiss. So he places his lips against Karim’s and kisses him - not hard yet not soft - and when he feels Karim sway his body towards him, he kisses him a little harder.
The taste of rum is distinct and heavy on Karim’s tongue when Cristiano pushes past his lips. He can feel sweat against his skin as he skates his fingers up past his collarbone to his neck, cupping him in place as he kisses him without caution.
They end up on Karim’s bed minutes later with both of their clothes strewn everywhere. Karim’s naked but Cristiano’s still has his jeans on though unbuttoned and unzipped. He has the Frenchman under him, his body quivering as Cristiano kisses from his neck down to his waist. He raises his head just before going any further and when he sees Karim’s eyelids flickering. A thought comes into Cristiano’s mind, whether or not this is a good idea and really he doesn’t know if it is.
Yet he licks Karim’s cock from base to tip and doesn’t stop as he takes it into his mouth. He’s well aware of the quiet moan that comes from above him and he lets that along with the music be the soundtrack as he licks and sucks.
Perhaps the most odd thing to him isn’t the fact that he’s here, in the position he is in with a teammate, or that he brings said teammate off but when he’s done and looks up to see Karim’s blissed face, he gets up, buttons his jeans up and grabs his discarded shirt from the floor before leaning down and placing a kiss to Karim’s lips.
The Frenchman’s eyes whip open and when he sees that Cristiano is fully dressed again, he opens his lips to speak only to be cut off with a kiss again.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning. Maybe drink some water so you won’t wake up drunk.”
When he leaves, Karim’s laughter follows him on the way out.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
notes:
1. cristiano is well known to not drink. if you don't believe me you can read it here
2. the song karim is singing in the cab is alors on danse by stromae it was a major hit club song in 2010
3. karim and cristiano do live pretty close to each other as he states in an interview where he also states that he's the most comfortable speaking spanish with cris (and kaka)