for everything a reason
Title: For Everything A Reason
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos
Summary: Spain National Team [Costa Rica → Madrid]
WordCount: 1042
Disclaimer: We'll never know.
Note: I awoke, had a vision, and wrote it.
It doesn't take long for Fernando to pass out in the perpetual plane seats. The 20 minutes he played only piled onto the exhaustion he was already dragging around from traveling and training in sleep delirium and stress from home-constant expectations and opinions. Hanging closely to Mata had helped a bit, but every now and then he would be reminded of reality. The looks from other players, being subbed in after 70 minutes when not too long ago he was starting in games, and most of all-Sergio. When he awakes it's not Mata who's next to him, it's Sergio.
He blinks a few times to clear the sleep from his vision, and there before him is those scorching brown eyes.
"..Where's Mata?" Fernando already knows, but it's the only question he can think of besides "Why has it taken you so long to confront me?".
"We switched seats." Sergio's not frowning, but there's a small crease in the space between his brows. In thought, as if trying to figure something out.
Fernando slides up a little in his seat to Sergio's level, feeling even more anxiety bubble up in his stomach than he did swooped below the defender's vision. He feels imbearably nervous and foriegn to having Sergio so close thanks to his bright idea of ignoring the one person who has more than enough care about him. There's only guilt words that manage to crawl up his throat when he thinks about it, and that he's sure Sergio doesn't want to hear.
"I know you're not okay." Sergio informs to Fernando's sparse surprisal. "You can pretend that you are, but you're not."
Fernando knows by the tone of his voice, and the glint in his eyes of honesty, there's no way he can deny him. That much he knows and his eyes downcast to his lap, to a certain silver ring placed on his fingers.
"Maybe pretending is what I need." He mumbles, feeling all too much of a weakling.
"That's like covering up scars. They're still there, Fer." Sergio addresses. And calmly after, "Don't do this to yourself-"
"Then what else should I do?" Fernando snaps, nearly glaring at Sergio's profound look now. He has no actual reason to get mad so quickly and so suddenly, but Sergio's worried voice, his deep timbre voice just irritates him, his entire face does and Fernando slightly hopes Sergio would bug off from his once bottled up attitude and leave.
But a chance like that is slim from someone like Sergio.
"Solve your problems." Sergio says. "Don't avoid them."
Fernando slowly relaxes, always, now feeling like an idiot for the sudden outburst. "...You make it sound easy when it isn't."
Sergio gently smiles, "Because that's how much I believe in you."
"..Too much, really." Fernando lightly retorts.
Sergio doesn't deny it. His smile turns a little wider before he glances down, lets it slip from his face completely. Before Fernando can question it, Sergio's cupping his hand. Raising it up and closer to his face with more of the isle light. The ring there glistens and Sergio inspects it softly, nudging it until it slithers around his finger. Fernando finds himself stuck on Sergio's face and the emotions that fly across it. His pulse heightens in his throat and it feels like his hand is on fire under his touch and he frowns for it, because he wishes Sergio didn't care so much, that he didn't force Mata out of his seat while he was sleeping and then waited for him to awake, sitting there in wonder and pain while watching his face.
Air escapes his lungs when Sergio's eyes find his. They quaver in glossy red, and in miliseconds his lips are pressed against his and Fernando melts and melts and dreams in it, until he finds his senses and his whereabouts and pulls back. He can still feel the heat linger on his lips, though they've barely parted away as their noses still brush, because he can't quite make himself pull entirely away. He tries to look around Sergio, see if anyone is witnessing this, but a deep throttle moan and a hand to his chin stops him. Sergio shakes his head and his eyes flutter as he rakes his hand to the back of Fernando's neck, shoving him forward into a thick languid kiss. Fernando loses his voice in the mix of the heat from Sergio's lips and his tongue and the shatters of his deep voice and he claws awfully weak at his shirt, because they need to stop even though Fernando doesn't want it to. He's wanted this since September, when he couldn't help but gravitate towards Sergio every second and faint when he thought about Sergio's random hug and picture and his entire being. He's wanted this since October, when he tried to stay distant from Sergio to focus on things that actually matter than hidden kisses and fondles back from 2010, 2009, 2008, 2007, and 2006. He's wanted this since the very moment Sergio said hi.
They break quicker than the speed of light when Puyol suddenly pops out of his seat from infront of them. He ventures off to the bathroom, and Fernando and Sergio are left to catch their breath, bury their desires as quietly as possible.
Moments fly as Fernando's heart rate slows down, and Puyol eventually returns. Sergio's still got his hand around his and he squeezes it so Fernando can look at him. His eyes are low, stuck between trying to calm down and shattered lust.
"..Do you want me to switch seats with Mata?" He asks, voice uncontrolably wavering.
Fernando feels sick. He feels like he's up in flames and wanting to vomit all at once. It hurts more than it should and he swears another touch of Sergio could cure it. "No,..Not at all." He mutters, passing his teeth over his bottom lip harshly before shakily adding, "But I think you have to."
Sergio looks away and down at their embraced hands. Fernando takes once last look at Sergio's own identicle ring, golden and stronger against his own timid silver, before Sergio's heat is completely gone.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos
Summary: Spain National Team [Costa Rica → Madrid]
WordCount: 1042
Disclaimer: We'll never know.
Note: I awoke, had a vision, and wrote it.
It doesn't take long for Fernando to pass out in the perpetual plane seats. The 20 minutes he played only piled onto the exhaustion he was already dragging around from traveling and training in sleep delirium and stress from home-constant expectations and opinions. Hanging closely to Mata had helped a bit, but every now and then he would be reminded of reality. The looks from other players, being subbed in after 70 minutes when not too long ago he was starting in games, and most of all-Sergio. When he awakes it's not Mata who's next to him, it's Sergio.
He blinks a few times to clear the sleep from his vision, and there before him is those scorching brown eyes.
"..Where's Mata?" Fernando already knows, but it's the only question he can think of besides "Why has it taken you so long to confront me?".
"We switched seats." Sergio's not frowning, but there's a small crease in the space between his brows. In thought, as if trying to figure something out.
Fernando slides up a little in his seat to Sergio's level, feeling even more anxiety bubble up in his stomach than he did swooped below the defender's vision. He feels imbearably nervous and foriegn to having Sergio so close thanks to his bright idea of ignoring the one person who has more than enough care about him. There's only guilt words that manage to crawl up his throat when he thinks about it, and that he's sure Sergio doesn't want to hear.
"I know you're not okay." Sergio informs to Fernando's sparse surprisal. "You can pretend that you are, but you're not."
Fernando knows by the tone of his voice, and the glint in his eyes of honesty, there's no way he can deny him. That much he knows and his eyes downcast to his lap, to a certain silver ring placed on his fingers.
"Maybe pretending is what I need." He mumbles, feeling all too much of a weakling.
"That's like covering up scars. They're still there, Fer." Sergio addresses. And calmly after, "Don't do this to yourself-"
"Then what else should I do?" Fernando snaps, nearly glaring at Sergio's profound look now. He has no actual reason to get mad so quickly and so suddenly, but Sergio's worried voice, his deep timbre voice just irritates him, his entire face does and Fernando slightly hopes Sergio would bug off from his once bottled up attitude and leave.
But a chance like that is slim from someone like Sergio.
"Solve your problems." Sergio says. "Don't avoid them."
Fernando slowly relaxes, always, now feeling like an idiot for the sudden outburst. "...You make it sound easy when it isn't."
Sergio gently smiles, "Because that's how much I believe in you."
"..Too much, really." Fernando lightly retorts.
Sergio doesn't deny it. His smile turns a little wider before he glances down, lets it slip from his face completely. Before Fernando can question it, Sergio's cupping his hand. Raising it up and closer to his face with more of the isle light. The ring there glistens and Sergio inspects it softly, nudging it until it slithers around his finger. Fernando finds himself stuck on Sergio's face and the emotions that fly across it. His pulse heightens in his throat and it feels like his hand is on fire under his touch and he frowns for it, because he wishes Sergio didn't care so much, that he didn't force Mata out of his seat while he was sleeping and then waited for him to awake, sitting there in wonder and pain while watching his face.
Air escapes his lungs when Sergio's eyes find his. They quaver in glossy red, and in miliseconds his lips are pressed against his and Fernando melts and melts and dreams in it, until he finds his senses and his whereabouts and pulls back. He can still feel the heat linger on his lips, though they've barely parted away as their noses still brush, because he can't quite make himself pull entirely away. He tries to look around Sergio, see if anyone is witnessing this, but a deep throttle moan and a hand to his chin stops him. Sergio shakes his head and his eyes flutter as he rakes his hand to the back of Fernando's neck, shoving him forward into a thick languid kiss. Fernando loses his voice in the mix of the heat from Sergio's lips and his tongue and the shatters of his deep voice and he claws awfully weak at his shirt, because they need to stop even though Fernando doesn't want it to. He's wanted this since September, when he couldn't help but gravitate towards Sergio every second and faint when he thought about Sergio's random hug and picture and his entire being. He's wanted this since October, when he tried to stay distant from Sergio to focus on things that actually matter than hidden kisses and fondles back from 2010, 2009, 2008, 2007, and 2006. He's wanted this since the very moment Sergio said hi.
They break quicker than the speed of light when Puyol suddenly pops out of his seat from infront of them. He ventures off to the bathroom, and Fernando and Sergio are left to catch their breath, bury their desires as quietly as possible.
Moments fly as Fernando's heart rate slows down, and Puyol eventually returns. Sergio's still got his hand around his and he squeezes it so Fernando can look at him. His eyes are low, stuck between trying to calm down and shattered lust.
"..Do you want me to switch seats with Mata?" He asks, voice uncontrolably wavering.
Fernando feels sick. He feels like he's up in flames and wanting to vomit all at once. It hurts more than it should and he swears another touch of Sergio could cure it. "No,..Not at all." He mutters, passing his teeth over his bottom lip harshly before shakily adding, "But I think you have to."
Sergio looks away and down at their embraced hands. Fernando takes once last look at Sergio's own identicle ring, golden and stronger against his own timid silver, before Sergio's heat is completely gone.