YAY UPDATE!
YAAAY. I'm updating! XD
Title: Untitled (I couldn't think of a title. =/)
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger (With hints of Torres/Fabregas and Agger/Finnan)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 505
Disclaimer: It.is.a.bluff. None of it is true. (:
Summary: Fernando can't sleep.
---
Fernando tosses and turns in the creaky hotel bed. He just can't sleep and his stomach felt queasy. Is it because of the match tomorrow? He wonders. It was going to be his first time playing at the Emirates stadium. (And possibly the first time getting fucked there.)
He sighs and shuts his eyes tight, but he starts feels uncomfortable again after barely a minute. He turns away from the bedside table; the bed creaks again. "Fuck." He curses silently. He was about to close his eyes when a soft light illuminates the room.
"Hey, get to sleep, will you?" His room mate grumbles. "We've got an important game tomorrow, and Rafa wouldn't be happy should his precious striker Fernando Torres suffer from a lack of sleep y'know."
"Oh, sorry." He mumbles. He shuffles under the sheets, watching the darkness engulf the room again. He lays still, and shutting his eyes, he wishes he would be able to cast aside all signs of anxiety and fall asleep. He even resorted to counting sheep.
He lost count of sheep. He exhales loudly in frustration. I can't even count sheep now, He thinks. He turns towards the bedside table (the bed creaking again) and stares at the clock. 01:00; the big green numbers stared back at him. He curses himself for being so anxious. It's going to be like every other match. What's there to be anxious about? He thinks to himself. And then a mental image of what happened when Cesc came over to Liverpool appears in his head. Cesc.Himself.Against a locker.Hot.Sweaty.Kissing.Touching.
He feels his whole body begin to tighten and jerks up from bed, shaking his head. I shouldn't be thinking about things like these at a time like this! He reprimands himself. I have an important match tomorrow... His eyes wander to the clock again. 01:05; the big green numbers stared at him. Ughhh... He lies back down, facing away from the clock. He closes his eyes.
And then he feels one side of his blanket being lifted off him and someone crawling into the bed. Arms begin to wrap around his waist, and one hand slowly makes its way to his groin. He gasps as his insides tighten. "Daniel..."
"Shhh... " says his room mate. His hands were doing things now, little ministrations that were almost making Fernando lose control.
"Daniel..." He says. "No." He turns to face the other man. Oops, wrong move, big mistake. Daniel Agger smacks his lips over Fernando Torres's.
***
Fernando wakes up in a bright room. He's alone, naked, and his body is aching. He rubs his eyes and glances at the clock. "FUCK!" He screams. He gets out of bed in a rush, showers, gathered his things and dashes out of the room. He didn't even comb his hair. He was late for breakfast, and he couldn't take his eyes off Daniel. (He wanted to wring Finns' neck when he saw Daniel flirting with Finns in the locker room before the game.)
Title: Untitled (I couldn't think of a title. =/)
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger (With hints of Torres/Fabregas and Agger/Finnan)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 505
Disclaimer: It.is.a.bluff. None of it is true. (:
Summary: Fernando can't sleep.
---
Fernando tosses and turns in the creaky hotel bed. He just can't sleep and his stomach felt queasy. Is it because of the match tomorrow? He wonders. It was going to be his first time playing at the Emirates stadium. (And possibly the first time getting fucked there.)
He sighs and shuts his eyes tight, but he starts feels uncomfortable again after barely a minute. He turns away from the bedside table; the bed creaks again. "Fuck." He curses silently. He was about to close his eyes when a soft light illuminates the room.
"Hey, get to sleep, will you?" His room mate grumbles. "We've got an important game tomorrow, and Rafa wouldn't be happy should his precious striker Fernando Torres suffer from a lack of sleep y'know."
"Oh, sorry." He mumbles. He shuffles under the sheets, watching the darkness engulf the room again. He lays still, and shutting his eyes, he wishes he would be able to cast aside all signs of anxiety and fall asleep. He even resorted to counting sheep.
He lost count of sheep. He exhales loudly in frustration. I can't even count sheep now, He thinks. He turns towards the bedside table (the bed creaking again) and stares at the clock. 01:00; the big green numbers stared back at him. He curses himself for being so anxious. It's going to be like every other match. What's there to be anxious about? He thinks to himself. And then a mental image of what happened when Cesc came over to Liverpool appears in his head. Cesc.Himself.Against a locker.Hot.Sweaty.Kissing.Touching.
He feels his whole body begin to tighten and jerks up from bed, shaking his head. I shouldn't be thinking about things like these at a time like this! He reprimands himself. I have an important match tomorrow... His eyes wander to the clock again. 01:05; the big green numbers stared at him. Ughhh... He lies back down, facing away from the clock. He closes his eyes.
And then he feels one side of his blanket being lifted off him and someone crawling into the bed. Arms begin to wrap around his waist, and one hand slowly makes its way to his groin. He gasps as his insides tighten. "Daniel..."
"Shhh... " says his room mate. His hands were doing things now, little ministrations that were almost making Fernando lose control.
"Daniel..." He says. "No." He turns to face the other man. Oops, wrong move, big mistake. Daniel Agger smacks his lips over Fernando Torres's.
***
Fernando wakes up in a bright room. He's alone, naked, and his body is aching. He rubs his eyes and glances at the clock. "FUCK!" He screams. He gets out of bed in a rush, showers, gathered his things and dashes out of the room. He didn't even comb his hair. He was late for breakfast, and he couldn't take his eyes off Daniel. (He wanted to wring Finns' neck when he saw Daniel flirting with Finns in the locker room before the game.)