Dreams of Vegas
Title: Dreams of Vegas
Rating: PG
Pairing: Landon Donovan / Steve Nash
Word Count: 879
Summary: After all, if Steve Nash can crash into Landon’s daily schedule, not to mention his dreams, sneaking into Landon’s house in the middle of the night isn’t out of the realm of possibility.
A/N: This is for luxover , a byproduct of one of our too few insane Panera/RR(oh Flano!)/UJ conversations. Lux you are seriously one of the best people I know and you keep me sane. This is but a tiny dent in how much I owe you for putting up with me <3
When Landon jerks awake from his sleep, he’s covered in cold sweat. He’s just had the most horrifying dream and he keeps telling himself that it was all inside his head and not real. There are no clowns, no lanky Canadian basketball players, and the Whitecaps did not just win MLS Cup and Supporter's Shield. Even so, he pulls the blankets around himself and over his head, arranging them so only his eyes are peering out into the dark room. Landon knows he’s being ridiculous, that no one is in the room watching him, but after his dream he can’t be too sure. After all, if Steve Nash can crash into Landon’s daily schedule, not to mention his dreams, sneaking into Landon’s house in the middle of the night isn’t out of the realm of possibility.
I’m too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts
Speak of the Devil. Landon stares at his phone as it starts to ring. The clock reads 3:47am. He should press ignore, or pick up and immediately hang up, but it isn’t like Steve to call at this hour for no reason. Landon makes a mental note to change Steve’s ring tone, and to never let the man near his phone again less another, more embarrassing song take Right Said Fred’s place.
“What?” He snaps as he picks up.
“Laaaannnndon.”
His lips twitch into a smile that is immediately replaced with a scowl. Landon would never admit to anyone that he likes how Steve says his name- how he draws out the ‘A’, the way his lips move when making the ‘L’ sound, the slightly accented touch to it all. He realizes he looks like a moron, rolled up like a little Landon ninja burrito scowling with a cell phone pressed against his ear, but he doesn’t care.
“LD, I just had the craziest dream.”
“Tell me.” Landon knows it’s faster to just let Steve get it out- if Landon complains, Steve will mope and Landon will never fall back asleep.
“It was like, like us man, and we were in Vegas getting married. And you looked all nice in your white tux, except you were wearing cleats, and your tux had your number on the back. But I looked good, because I’m Steve Nash you know, and I always look good. Dress to impress, that’s my motto.”
Landon’s pretty sure Steve can feel the force of his glare through the phone. He can’t believe Steve woke him up at four in the morning to tell him about a dream. Except that it’s Steve and he actually can believe that this is all happening. Because that’s just the type of person Steve Nash is.
“Anyway, Thierry Henry was our priest- are you friends with him? Me and him are tight! Like bros. Brother’s from different mothers.” Landon rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “And Becks and Boca were your groomsmen and they looked hella fine, which is kind of rude because you know, it’s your big day and what not and-”
“Get to the point” Landon wants to chuck his phone against the wall.
“Chillax LD, I’m getting to the good part. Gotta build the scene, lay down the foundation.” Landon lets out a strangled half sob, half exasperated laugh. “But we were saying our vows when out of no where Hope Solo shows up on a pink unicorn in a Wonder Woman outfit and objects to our wedding because she’s in love with me. And I mean, let’s face it LD, Hope is pretty hot, and she’s a lot better than you at Fifa and has more hair. But then I woke up.”
Landon just stares at the phone before grumbling through clenched teeth, “Unbelievable.”
He hangs up.
Landon sleeps through his alarm in the morning, because he’s set his phone to silent. Likewise, he’s running late to practice and almost steps on the box on his doormat. It’s a small white box, and ‘LD’ is scribbled crudely on top of it. He rolls his eyes.
Opening it, he pauses. He’s not sure whether to smile, cry in frustration, or just sigh. Taking the object from the box, he does a combination of all three. It’s a wedding cake topper. Steve’s taped a picture of himself over the groom’s face and a picture of Landon over the bride’s face. As Steve is Steve, he has taken it upon himself to make the bride look more like Landon- she’s missing her veil and most of her hair, most likely cut off with a knife. Her once blond hair has now been scribbled over with a sharpie. The back of her wedding dress has ‘Donovan, 10’ written on it.
“Unbelievable.”
He’s about to chuck it in the garbage can when he notices a card. Taking it out of the envelope, he bites his lip.
I would have picked you
He sighs and shakes his head before a small smile comes onto his lips. With a silent laugh he places the box and the cake topper inside his house. Before he drives to practice, he digs his phone out of his bag and texts a message to Steve.
I’m glad. Vegas would be boring without you
Rating: PG
Pairing: Landon Donovan / Steve Nash
Word Count: 879
Summary: After all, if Steve Nash can crash into Landon’s daily schedule, not to mention his dreams, sneaking into Landon’s house in the middle of the night isn’t out of the realm of possibility.
A/N: This is for luxover , a byproduct of one of our too few insane Panera/RR(oh Flano!)/UJ conversations. Lux you are seriously one of the best people I know and you keep me sane. This is but a tiny dent in how much I owe you for putting up with me <3
When Landon jerks awake from his sleep, he’s covered in cold sweat. He’s just had the most horrifying dream and he keeps telling himself that it was all inside his head and not real. There are no clowns, no lanky Canadian basketball players, and the Whitecaps did not just win MLS Cup and Supporter's Shield. Even so, he pulls the blankets around himself and over his head, arranging them so only his eyes are peering out into the dark room. Landon knows he’s being ridiculous, that no one is in the room watching him, but after his dream he can’t be too sure. After all, if Steve Nash can crash into Landon’s daily schedule, not to mention his dreams, sneaking into Landon’s house in the middle of the night isn’t out of the realm of possibility.
I’m too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts
Speak of the Devil. Landon stares at his phone as it starts to ring. The clock reads 3:47am. He should press ignore, or pick up and immediately hang up, but it isn’t like Steve to call at this hour for no reason. Landon makes a mental note to change Steve’s ring tone, and to never let the man near his phone again less another, more embarrassing song take Right Said Fred’s place.
“What?” He snaps as he picks up.
“Laaaannnndon.”
His lips twitch into a smile that is immediately replaced with a scowl. Landon would never admit to anyone that he likes how Steve says his name- how he draws out the ‘A’, the way his lips move when making the ‘L’ sound, the slightly accented touch to it all. He realizes he looks like a moron, rolled up like a little Landon ninja burrito scowling with a cell phone pressed against his ear, but he doesn’t care.
“LD, I just had the craziest dream.”
“Tell me.” Landon knows it’s faster to just let Steve get it out- if Landon complains, Steve will mope and Landon will never fall back asleep.
“It was like, like us man, and we were in Vegas getting married. And you looked all nice in your white tux, except you were wearing cleats, and your tux had your number on the back. But I looked good, because I’m Steve Nash you know, and I always look good. Dress to impress, that’s my motto.”
Landon’s pretty sure Steve can feel the force of his glare through the phone. He can’t believe Steve woke him up at four in the morning to tell him about a dream. Except that it’s Steve and he actually can believe that this is all happening. Because that’s just the type of person Steve Nash is.
“Anyway, Thierry Henry was our priest- are you friends with him? Me and him are tight! Like bros. Brother’s from different mothers.” Landon rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “And Becks and Boca were your groomsmen and they looked hella fine, which is kind of rude because you know, it’s your big day and what not and-”
“Get to the point” Landon wants to chuck his phone against the wall.
“Chillax LD, I’m getting to the good part. Gotta build the scene, lay down the foundation.” Landon lets out a strangled half sob, half exasperated laugh. “But we were saying our vows when out of no where Hope Solo shows up on a pink unicorn in a Wonder Woman outfit and objects to our wedding because she’s in love with me. And I mean, let’s face it LD, Hope is pretty hot, and she’s a lot better than you at Fifa and has more hair. But then I woke up.”
Landon just stares at the phone before grumbling through clenched teeth, “Unbelievable.”
He hangs up.
Landon sleeps through his alarm in the morning, because he’s set his phone to silent. Likewise, he’s running late to practice and almost steps on the box on his doormat. It’s a small white box, and ‘LD’ is scribbled crudely on top of it. He rolls his eyes.
Opening it, he pauses. He’s not sure whether to smile, cry in frustration, or just sigh. Taking the object from the box, he does a combination of all three. It’s a wedding cake topper. Steve’s taped a picture of himself over the groom’s face and a picture of Landon over the bride’s face. As Steve is Steve, he has taken it upon himself to make the bride look more like Landon- she’s missing her veil and most of her hair, most likely cut off with a knife. Her once blond hair has now been scribbled over with a sharpie. The back of her wedding dress has ‘Donovan, 10’ written on it.
“Unbelievable.”
He’s about to chuck it in the garbage can when he notices a card. Taking it out of the envelope, he bites his lip.
I would have picked you
He sighs and shakes his head before a small smile comes onto his lips. With a silent laugh he places the box and the cake topper inside his house. Before he drives to practice, he digs his phone out of his bag and texts a message to Steve.
I’m glad. Vegas would be boring without you