Turkey v Czech Republic
Title : Turkey v Czech Republic (Group A, game six)
Author: dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean
Rating : NC-13
Summary : Football … yep, that’s right !
Disclaimer: This is entirely made up.
Author’s Note : For rifleman_s cos I bet she was squawking as loudly as me
“Quick …” Sean turned the ignition off and almost threw himself out of the car, he tripped and nearly fell, righting himself just in time. He ran to the front door, opened it, switched off the burglar alarm and pitched himself onto the couch, turning the TV on as he dropped.
It was 1-0 to the Czech Republic, damn, he’d missed a goal; he’s see it at half time though.
Orlando followed him, locking the car and shutting the door behind him.
“Gonna take a shower,” he called and made his way upstairs. He loved Sean to distraction but he had to have some time alone, he needed to call Eric Bana, who he was still close to and have a good laugh before he went to clean up. He had to tell someone who knew Sean just how funny the past couple of hours had been.
“Get up you fucker, you’re not injured! Jesus another fucking free kick,” Sean was on sparkling form once more.
It turned into a corker of a match. He’d missed one goal but as if to compensate him, very obligingly Jaroslav Plasil put another past the unlucky goalie in around the sixtieth minute. Sean was delighted. He cheered and he leapt around for a bit, for no other reason than he could.
Orlando put the phone down to Eric still chuckling. He decided he’d have a bath for a change and went to turn the taps on. He enjoyed pottering around their room, thinking about fisting Sean, thinking about just fucking him, vanilla fashion, thinking about all sorts of things while he could hear Sean thoroughly enjoying himself downstairs. He loved Sean so much right at that moment, it was a struggle not to just go down and throw himself at his lover. He eased himself into his bath, found some soothing classical music and picked up his book. He was as happy as it was possible to be, right here, right now.
And just as Sean thought it was a done deal, if Turkey didn’t come along and claw one back in the seventy fifth minute, Turan putting a beautifully placed ball right to the back of the net.
“There may be a shoot out, ‘Lan.,” Sean yelled. He hated matches that were decided by penalties, at least if his own team were involved. He’d enjoyed Chelsea’s pain a few weeks ago and he’d enjoy watching again. Though he thought it would be better if they could settle it in the ninety allotted minutes.
And fucking hell, suddenly it’s fucking bedlam in the house because Turkey go and score again, from nowhere, suddenly Nihat is putting a ball into an empty net and Sean and ha, the nation are on their feet cheering and yelling cos not two minutes later, maybe exactly two minutes later, surely this can’t have happened, fuck yes, the unthinkable happens and Nihat had surely clinched Turkey’s quarter final place and Sean was hoarse with cheering.
But then … there was fracas and fucking hell, Volkan the Turkish goalie was being sent off which meant he wouldn’t be able play in the next round and Sean was still standing in total disbelief, Turkey had come from 2-0 down to clinch it.
“But that’s football, that’s the point, you never fucking know ‘Lan … you never know, it’s never cut and dried and …”
Orland had dropped his towel. He’d let Sean talk at him for the past twenty minutes but there was no more time to talk.
“Get undressed, get on the bed, on your back and I want your legs wide, wide open, I am gonna fuck you till you don’t give a toss for Turkey or Switzerland who won by the way … Yakin scored both goals.”
“Yes Orlando,” and grinning like a loon, that’s exactly what Sean did.
Turkey 3-2 Czech Republic
Author: dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean
Rating : NC-13
Summary : Football … yep, that’s right !
Disclaimer: This is entirely made up.
Author’s Note : For rifleman_s cos I bet she was squawking as loudly as me
“Quick …” Sean turned the ignition off and almost threw himself out of the car, he tripped and nearly fell, righting himself just in time. He ran to the front door, opened it, switched off the burglar alarm and pitched himself onto the couch, turning the TV on as he dropped.
It was 1-0 to the Czech Republic, damn, he’d missed a goal; he’s see it at half time though.
Orlando followed him, locking the car and shutting the door behind him.
“Gonna take a shower,” he called and made his way upstairs. He loved Sean to distraction but he had to have some time alone, he needed to call Eric Bana, who he was still close to and have a good laugh before he went to clean up. He had to tell someone who knew Sean just how funny the past couple of hours had been.
“Get up you fucker, you’re not injured! Jesus another fucking free kick,” Sean was on sparkling form once more.
It turned into a corker of a match. He’d missed one goal but as if to compensate him, very obligingly Jaroslav Plasil put another past the unlucky goalie in around the sixtieth minute. Sean was delighted. He cheered and he leapt around for a bit, for no other reason than he could.
Orlando put the phone down to Eric still chuckling. He decided he’d have a bath for a change and went to turn the taps on. He enjoyed pottering around their room, thinking about fisting Sean, thinking about just fucking him, vanilla fashion, thinking about all sorts of things while he could hear Sean thoroughly enjoying himself downstairs. He loved Sean so much right at that moment, it was a struggle not to just go down and throw himself at his lover. He eased himself into his bath, found some soothing classical music and picked up his book. He was as happy as it was possible to be, right here, right now.
And just as Sean thought it was a done deal, if Turkey didn’t come along and claw one back in the seventy fifth minute, Turan putting a beautifully placed ball right to the back of the net.
“There may be a shoot out, ‘Lan.,” Sean yelled. He hated matches that were decided by penalties, at least if his own team were involved. He’d enjoyed Chelsea’s pain a few weeks ago and he’d enjoy watching again. Though he thought it would be better if they could settle it in the ninety allotted minutes.
And fucking hell, suddenly it’s fucking bedlam in the house because Turkey go and score again, from nowhere, suddenly Nihat is putting a ball into an empty net and Sean and ha, the nation are on their feet cheering and yelling cos not two minutes later, maybe exactly two minutes later, surely this can’t have happened, fuck yes, the unthinkable happens and Nihat had surely clinched Turkey’s quarter final place and Sean was hoarse with cheering.
But then … there was fracas and fucking hell, Volkan the Turkish goalie was being sent off which meant he wouldn’t be able play in the next round and Sean was still standing in total disbelief, Turkey had come from 2-0 down to clinch it.
“But that’s football, that’s the point, you never fucking know ‘Lan … you never know, it’s never cut and dried and …”
Orland had dropped his towel. He’d let Sean talk at him for the past twenty minutes but there was no more time to talk.
“Get undressed, get on the bed, on your back and I want your legs wide, wide open, I am gonna fuck you till you don’t give a toss for Turkey or Switzerland who won by the way … Yakin scored both goals.”
“Yes Orlando,” and grinning like a loon, that’s exactly what Sean did.
Turkey 3-2 Czech Republic