Fic: Birthday Favours
Title: Birthday Favours
Pairings: David Villa/Fernando Torres, David Villa/Cesc Fabregas
Wordcount: 1,103
Rating: nc-17
Disclaimer: Nothing written here is true.
Summary: Fernando's in London during David's birthday, so he gives him Cesc.
A/N: A silly little thing I wrote in a couple minutes.
“David.”
He stares at his phone. It’s talking to him, in Fernando Torres’s voice.
“David, are you there? Pick up if you are. I hate leaving messages.”
David picks up. “Nando?”
The other man breathes a sigh of relief at the other end. “Ugh. I always feel like I’m talking to myself. And what if the beep cuts in while I’m thinking of what to say? Then I’d leave some half-baked message and sound like an idiot, and…”
“Sound like an idiot?” David teases, settling back into his couch with the phone cradled to his ear.
“Shut up.” Fernando laughs. “Happy birthday!”
“Thanks,” David tells him, smiling.
“You have a match later,” Fernando says. Doesn’t ask, he knows. “Doing anything after?”
David rolls his eyes. “Not really, you want to fly over from London?”
“Can’t,” Fernando breathes, regretful laughter in his voice. “Can’t, of course. Next time I see you, though, we can do something.”
“Pepe promised me thirty smacks next time he sees me,” David grumbles. “What kind of cocked-up tradition that is I don’t know. Maybe you can promise to save me from those.”
There’s a brief silence on the line, and David thinks Fernando is probably laughing at the image of Pepe delivering said promised smacks. “Oh, stop,” he says, rolling his eyes again even though Fernando isn’t there, can’t see him. “I think he’s serious.”
“He is,” Fernando agrees; then he says, “I hope you like my present.”
“What?”
“My present. I hope you like it.”
David glances around him. “Is it in the mail? Should I go get it?”
Fernando says, “No, it’s not, you’ll see what it is. Later.” There’s something in his voice that intrigues David.
“What?”
“You’ll see. Bye, David. Love you.”
“Fine,” David snipes. “Ugh. Bye.”
They win the match by quite a margin, and though he didn’t score, David is happy. Maybe a 3-0 would have been more fitting, Xavi tells him, but whatever; nobody would complain about a manita. Back in the dressing room they shower and change noisily as usual, and people start to leave, telling David happy birthday again as they go.
“I want to celebrate,” Cesc says, sidling over to David when the room is mostly empty. Gerard and Carles are still there, and so is Leo, sitting in a corner frowning at the screen of his mobile.
“I can’t, sorry,” David answers regretfully, appreciating the gesture. “I’d love to go out, but I’m having dinner at home.”
Cesc bites his lip. “I know, but I won’t keep you too long. My place is only a couple minutes from yours, remember?”
David cocks his head slightly. “You want to celebrate at your place?”
“Yeah, just. Maybe half an hour.” Cesc smiles brightly. “Please? You have to say yes. I prom-. Oh.”
Narrowing his eyes, David prompts: “You prom…ise? What?”
Cesc shakes his head and refuses to answer, just tells him to follow his car when they go.
It isn’t much trouble tailing Cesc, because it’s really the same way back to David’s own house, except they turn left where David usually would turn right. Cesc’s car rolls to a stop in the driveway and David parks behind him, wondering what Cesc had in store for him. He remembers then that he still hasn’t gotten Fernando’s ‘present’. Maybe Cesc had it.
The moment he gets in the house Cesc gets him a drink (he asks for water) and escorts him into the bedroom. David puzzles over this but sits down expectantly on the bed.
“So,” David says, smugly, sipping his water. “I know what this is about.”
Cesc raises his eyebrows.
“You’ve got Fernando’s present for me, haven’t you?”
Cesc gives him a wide smile and David nods, satisfied at his deductive skills. The younger man takes his glass of water and sets it aside. “Don’t want you spilling it.”
David, bemused again, asks, “Am I likely to spill it?”
“When you get your present, yes.” The midfielder gives him a wolfish grin. “Oh. So you still don’t know what the present is. Good.”
“He didn’t get me a dog or something,” David says. Because what if Fernando bought him a massive pet. Or. Who knew what that boy thought sometimes.
Cesc says: “Close your eyes and no moving. God, I can’t figure out if you’re just playing dumb or if you’re really this innocent.”
Eyes shut and not moving, David mumbles, “Huh?”
“We’re in my bedroom and you’re on my bed and Fernando asked me to give you this, and I promised,” Cesc snickers.
Hands on David’s belt. David’s eyes fly open. Cesc is kneeling, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans, pulling it down enough to cup David through his boxers. David stammers, “Wh-the fuck-Cesc, I, what,” and starts to move away, but Cesc curls his fingers around his cock and says,
“Honestly, do you want this?”
David swallows.
“Because Fernando said you would.”
Hesitating (Cesc’s hand felt really good on him), David says, “He did?”
Cesc gives him a nod.
“Then,” David says, feeling himself getting hard. “Then yes. Please. Fuck.”
Cesc strokes him appreciatively. “Glad you’re cooperating now.”
“Shut up,” David moans. He’s incredibly turned on, though, that Fernando is doing this for him. Dirty bastard.
I know you’ve fantasised about his mouth, imaginary Fernando says in his mind, and David has to admit that he’s right. He’s thought about Cesc like that and it was no secret to Fernando.
Cesc slides his boxers down and slides that hot, pretty mouth down over David’s cock, and David groans and shifts his hips a little. Cesc presses his palms to David’s thighs, pinning him down, which makes David more desperate. He curls his fingers into the newly-cut hair on top of Cesc’s head, tilting the Catalan’s head back slightly until he meets dark eyes, his cock sliding between reddened lips.
When Cesc does that thing which Fernando does, the thing that drives David over the edge with an intensity that leaves him breathless - laves his tongue in; David growls, comes hard inside Cesc’s mouth and across his lips when he pulls out, the come staining the younger man’s cheeks.
“He told you,” David pants, somehow both outraged and touched.
Looking smug, Cesc licks his lips and swallows, wipes his face with a finger. “And he’s right. You do taste good.”
“Oh my god,” David says, blushing. “What the fuck.”
Cesc smirks. “Happy birthday, David.”
He gets home, makes a mental note to thank Fernando the next time they met, and then to roundly punish him.
Pairings: David Villa/Fernando Torres, David Villa/Cesc Fabregas
Wordcount: 1,103
Rating: nc-17
Disclaimer: Nothing written here is true.
Summary: Fernando's in London during David's birthday, so he gives him Cesc.
A/N: A silly little thing I wrote in a couple minutes.
“David.”
He stares at his phone. It’s talking to him, in Fernando Torres’s voice.
“David, are you there? Pick up if you are. I hate leaving messages.”
David picks up. “Nando?”
The other man breathes a sigh of relief at the other end. “Ugh. I always feel like I’m talking to myself. And what if the beep cuts in while I’m thinking of what to say? Then I’d leave some half-baked message and sound like an idiot, and…”
“Sound like an idiot?” David teases, settling back into his couch with the phone cradled to his ear.
“Shut up.” Fernando laughs. “Happy birthday!”
“Thanks,” David tells him, smiling.
“You have a match later,” Fernando says. Doesn’t ask, he knows. “Doing anything after?”
David rolls his eyes. “Not really, you want to fly over from London?”
“Can’t,” Fernando breathes, regretful laughter in his voice. “Can’t, of course. Next time I see you, though, we can do something.”
“Pepe promised me thirty smacks next time he sees me,” David grumbles. “What kind of cocked-up tradition that is I don’t know. Maybe you can promise to save me from those.”
There’s a brief silence on the line, and David thinks Fernando is probably laughing at the image of Pepe delivering said promised smacks. “Oh, stop,” he says, rolling his eyes again even though Fernando isn’t there, can’t see him. “I think he’s serious.”
“He is,” Fernando agrees; then he says, “I hope you like my present.”
“What?”
“My present. I hope you like it.”
David glances around him. “Is it in the mail? Should I go get it?”
Fernando says, “No, it’s not, you’ll see what it is. Later.” There’s something in his voice that intrigues David.
“What?”
“You’ll see. Bye, David. Love you.”
“Fine,” David snipes. “Ugh. Bye.”
They win the match by quite a margin, and though he didn’t score, David is happy. Maybe a 3-0 would have been more fitting, Xavi tells him, but whatever; nobody would complain about a manita. Back in the dressing room they shower and change noisily as usual, and people start to leave, telling David happy birthday again as they go.
“I want to celebrate,” Cesc says, sidling over to David when the room is mostly empty. Gerard and Carles are still there, and so is Leo, sitting in a corner frowning at the screen of his mobile.
“I can’t, sorry,” David answers regretfully, appreciating the gesture. “I’d love to go out, but I’m having dinner at home.”
Cesc bites his lip. “I know, but I won’t keep you too long. My place is only a couple minutes from yours, remember?”
David cocks his head slightly. “You want to celebrate at your place?”
“Yeah, just. Maybe half an hour.” Cesc smiles brightly. “Please? You have to say yes. I prom-. Oh.”
Narrowing his eyes, David prompts: “You prom…ise? What?”
Cesc shakes his head and refuses to answer, just tells him to follow his car when they go.
It isn’t much trouble tailing Cesc, because it’s really the same way back to David’s own house, except they turn left where David usually would turn right. Cesc’s car rolls to a stop in the driveway and David parks behind him, wondering what Cesc had in store for him. He remembers then that he still hasn’t gotten Fernando’s ‘present’. Maybe Cesc had it.
The moment he gets in the house Cesc gets him a drink (he asks for water) and escorts him into the bedroom. David puzzles over this but sits down expectantly on the bed.
“So,” David says, smugly, sipping his water. “I know what this is about.”
Cesc raises his eyebrows.
“You’ve got Fernando’s present for me, haven’t you?”
Cesc gives him a wide smile and David nods, satisfied at his deductive skills. The younger man takes his glass of water and sets it aside. “Don’t want you spilling it.”
David, bemused again, asks, “Am I likely to spill it?”
“When you get your present, yes.” The midfielder gives him a wolfish grin. “Oh. So you still don’t know what the present is. Good.”
“He didn’t get me a dog or something,” David says. Because what if Fernando bought him a massive pet. Or. Who knew what that boy thought sometimes.
Cesc says: “Close your eyes and no moving. God, I can’t figure out if you’re just playing dumb or if you’re really this innocent.”
Eyes shut and not moving, David mumbles, “Huh?”
“We’re in my bedroom and you’re on my bed and Fernando asked me to give you this, and I promised,” Cesc snickers.
Hands on David’s belt. David’s eyes fly open. Cesc is kneeling, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans, pulling it down enough to cup David through his boxers. David stammers, “Wh-the fuck-Cesc, I, what,” and starts to move away, but Cesc curls his fingers around his cock and says,
“Honestly, do you want this?”
David swallows.
“Because Fernando said you would.”
Hesitating (Cesc’s hand felt really good on him), David says, “He did?”
Cesc gives him a nod.
“Then,” David says, feeling himself getting hard. “Then yes. Please. Fuck.”
Cesc strokes him appreciatively. “Glad you’re cooperating now.”
“Shut up,” David moans. He’s incredibly turned on, though, that Fernando is doing this for him. Dirty bastard.
I know you’ve fantasised about his mouth, imaginary Fernando says in his mind, and David has to admit that he’s right. He’s thought about Cesc like that and it was no secret to Fernando.
Cesc slides his boxers down and slides that hot, pretty mouth down over David’s cock, and David groans and shifts his hips a little. Cesc presses his palms to David’s thighs, pinning him down, which makes David more desperate. He curls his fingers into the newly-cut hair on top of Cesc’s head, tilting the Catalan’s head back slightly until he meets dark eyes, his cock sliding between reddened lips.
When Cesc does that thing which Fernando does, the thing that drives David over the edge with an intensity that leaves him breathless - laves his tongue in; David growls, comes hard inside Cesc’s mouth and across his lips when he pulls out, the come staining the younger man’s cheeks.
“He told you,” David pants, somehow both outraged and touched.
Looking smug, Cesc licks his lips and swallows, wipes his face with a finger. “And he’s right. You do taste good.”
“Oh my god,” David says, blushing. “What the fuck.”
Cesc smirks. “Happy birthday, David.”
He gets home, makes a mental note to thank Fernando the next time they met, and then to roundly punish him.