Fic: Close Your Eyes & Dream
Title: Close Your Eyes & Dream
Pairing: David Beckham/Iker Casillas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Fiction
Summary: A two day break sees David and Iker together in their secluded beach house
Prompt: Memory of my 10_fics table
A/N: this is set in the late summer of 2009, say around august. it doesn't really matter though.
If David could buy anything, one thing he desperately wants and needs, it would be anonymity, if only for one night. He can’t rent a hotel room even if he wants to but somehow David finds comfort in the fact. No matter how rare or spread out his time with Iker may be, he wouldn’t trade it in for anything. It would just be easier to run to a hotel than to find time so they both can get away and lose themselves in each other in houses David has around the world. If they could sneak off to the closest hotel, there would be no need for careful planning and organization. Spontaneity is what brought them together all those years ago. Both men however understand that life doesn’t travel in a straight line. They wouldn’t want it to.
{*}
This time they are in Spain, in a little secluded beach house near Marbella. Two days is all David could afford to break away from his schedule but it doesn’t matter, not when the sight that first greets him when he arrives is of Iker standing out on the small patio, his white shirt billowing in the wind, his feet bare. He looks out over the water, the beauty of the scenery and his own thoughts making him unaware of David’s arrival. David however, doesn’t mind at all; he places his overnight bag on the floor next to him and leans against the door of the patio as he watches in silence.
He looks peaceful, Iker does. He has his forearms resting comfortably against the iron railing, his eyes roaming over the calm waters. His shirt is a stark contrast to the rich tan of his skin, giving Iker a healthy and relaxed glow. David likes looking at him, likes seeing Iker content with everything around him. His eyes flicker to the beard on Iker’s face and David smiles, his hand touching the slight startings of his own. It is a coincidence; it really is that they would both forego shaving. But even something trivial like growing a beard at the same time just meant how attuned they are with each other.
Deciding he needs more than just to look, David quietly pads onto the patio. He steps behind Iker and takes in a breath before sliding his arms around his waist, his nose burying in his neck. Iker clasps his hands over David’s and leans back into him. They remain like that for some time, just revelling in the feel of each other, in the beautiful late summer day.
They don’t discuss things that they know will only end badly. They have learned from the past. Iker never asks David if and when he’s coming back to Real Madrid (or why he left in the first place). And David never asks Iker to give him more than he already is. David doesn’t know or understand how he found someone like Iker, who was willing to be placed in the shadows, to be 3rd place essentially in David’s life. Iker never complains, only reassures David with that smile of his that he would be anywhere David needs him to be. David knows he doesn’t deserve him but he’s too selfish to let him go.
In the beginning Iker didn’t like being the one David was cheating with but soon he came to understand that Victoria understood and oddly enough approved as long as he was the only one. He has learned to not question David’s relationship with his wife but Iker’s grateful that he’s allowed to have gotten to know their boys. All three of them remind Iker so much of David, each one having a little part of their father in them. He doesn’t see them often (he doesn’t even get to see their father that much) but every time he does, Iker cherishes those moments. He knows he wants children of his own one day.
Kissing the spot behind Iker’s ear, David spins him around. Iker’s eyes have a serious calmness about them but his lips wear a smile. David leans in, closing the space between their bodies and lets their lips meet in a soft kiss. He can feel Iker’s smile press against him. David links their fingers together and breaks their kiss to lead Iker inside.
Words still have not been exchanged but that’s okay with them. Iker can sense a need in David to be in charge and he lets him. There are no set rules in their relationship, no top no bottom, no dominate no submissive. There is only David and Iker.
The patio doors remain open as the two lovers make their way inside and to their bedroom. David indicates for Iker to take a seat on the bed as he goes to open all the windows and even the balcony doors, letting in the calming Spanish sun and air. He takes a deep breath and revels in being back in Spain for a moment before going back to the reason he is here.
He stops in front of Iker and kneels on the ground. Smiling, David leans in for a kiss, whispering a horribly pronounced ‘Hola’ against Iker’s lips. Iker lets out a little chuckle before returning the greeting. David rocks back, shifting the weight off his knees, as he reaches for Iker’s charcoal coloured pants. While David is focused on removing the item, Iker’s eyes never leave his form. David’s hair is a little shorter than the last time they saw each other (a little more ‘normal’ as well). His skin is richly tanned, hiding the few wrinkles that threaten to give away David’s age. Iker’s just happy to have a part of that, no matter how big or small that part may be.
David undoes the button and zipper carefully before tugging off the pants and underwear. Iker leans back onto his elbow without being told. As his skin is bared, a little shiver runs down his body, the cool air wafting in from the open windows. David looks up and smiles when he sees Iker tremor and runs a comforting hand up and down his thigh. However, it only adds to it and Iker shivers again. Their eyes lock and David nods, affirming words they don’t exchange. Placing both his hands on Iker’s bare thighs, David runs them up and down before pressing down to let himself up. Standing between Iker’s parted legs, he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side before quickly undoing his jeans and sliding out of them. He lowers himself on top of Iker carefully, flattening him out against the mattress, loving the feel of both Iker’s bare skin and soft shirt. Their lips meet, tongues yearning to reacquaint with each other. David slips his hands between their bodies and begins to remove Iker’s shirt, each button being stubborn in their own way. Luckily they don’t prove to be too difficult for David. He pushes it aside and his fingers begin to explore the body he has come to know and love.
Iker moans. It’s not just because David is touching him but at how he is. David’s fingers are exploring like it is their first time, yet reaffirming his spot on Iker’s body, in Iker’s life. His touch is soft and careful, then hard and possessive. Iker’s hands attach to David’s body as well; one on his lower back, the other in his hair. Iker tries to pull their bodies even closer, tries to suck David’s tongue harder, tries to rock their erections together. He needs more.
The fingers on his torso, his nipples leave as they slip to cup his shoulders and haul him up. Their kiss never breaks, their mouths too hungry for one another, as David finally pushes the shirt off Iker’s arms. It’s thrown somewhere to the side. Iker hisses when David’s fingers now wrap around his hard and needy cock. He silently prays David will hurry up but doesn’t voice his need. He doesn’t beg, not unless David wants him to. He knows he will be taken care of, just how he will take care of David.
Reluctantly, David breaks the kiss, his lips trailing along Iker’s jaw before nibbling on his earlobe. “Slide up the bed, yeah?” He pushes himself away, allowing the other man to do what he says as he gets up to retrieve supplies he knows should be here from the last time. He returns quickly with a bottle of lubricant in his hand. The only protection they use and need is their mind, their intelligence and their trust.
Iker slowly, barely, runs the tips of his fingers up his abdomen as he relaxes under the cushion of fluffy pillows. He knows better than to touch himself, so he doesn’t. Instead he watches David watch him. He follows David’s eyes as his lover trails his gaze over his body. His cock hardens further, now stiff against his stomach. When their eyes meet, Iker raises a brow, a smirk on his face. David answers with a laugh, shaking his head before climbing onto the bed and settling on top of Iker and between his legs.
When he’s with Iker, David has no worries; not about his family, not about the media, not about his football career. Everything seems to melt away, just leaving the two of them in their own little world. All the sneaking away seems justified when they are together, no matter how rare their meetings may be.
The cap is popped open; lubricant is poured onto fingers before the tube is discarded (again, tossed somewhere that they won’t worry about until much later). As David brings his finger to Iker’s entrance, they lips meet in a kiss once again, this time slow and sensual, and with every ounce of feeling they can manage. Just like how their tongues rub against each others, so does David’s finger, not quite breeching. He can feel Iker’s body shudder under his. David swallows his moan as he finally pushes his finger inside.
It never matters how much time passes before seeing each other again. It could be two week, four months, a year. David’s body only knows Iker as does Iker’s. It may not be like their first time all over again, but every and each time they do come together, physically, emotionally, sexually, it’s everything that their first time was and more.
Iker clutches David’s shoulders as his body is lit with such fire from head to toe. He wraps his legs around his waist when David finally penetrates him, his lips tearing away from David’s when he throws his head back. He knows he’s not making any sense, garbled Spanish flying from his lips but that doesn’t matter. David buries his face in the crook of his neck, whispering unidentifiable words of his own against Iker’s skin, along with warm kisses.
They move together in a way that only they know how. Every sigh is answered by a moan. Every kiss returned with a thrust. Much time may have passed yet in this moment, it stops altogether. There is only David, and only Iker. They rock together until they reach the height of their climax. David eases up just a little, his elbows resting on top of Iker’s shoulders as he bends down to place kisses on every inch of Iker’s face.
Iker’s sated body rests half on David, half on the bed. He runs his fingers up and down David’s arm, his ears focused on their conversation but his eyes roam over David’s tattoos. His thumb traces over dark ink, over words of love and meaning. He silently hopes that one day he’ll be among David’s art, and not just a distant memory.
They remain in bed, talking softly about idle things. Iker fills David in about the team he can no longer call his but still cares about; David does the same about his kids. They talk about the World Cup that’s less than a year away now. Poor English and equally as horrendous Spanish fill the air as the two lovers bask in the short time they have together.
Pairing: David Beckham/Iker Casillas
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Fiction
Summary: A two day break sees David and Iker together in their secluded beach house
Prompt: Memory of my 10_fics table
A/N: this is set in the late summer of 2009, say around august. it doesn't really matter though.
If David could buy anything, one thing he desperately wants and needs, it would be anonymity, if only for one night. He can’t rent a hotel room even if he wants to but somehow David finds comfort in the fact. No matter how rare or spread out his time with Iker may be, he wouldn’t trade it in for anything. It would just be easier to run to a hotel than to find time so they both can get away and lose themselves in each other in houses David has around the world. If they could sneak off to the closest hotel, there would be no need for careful planning and organization. Spontaneity is what brought them together all those years ago. Both men however understand that life doesn’t travel in a straight line. They wouldn’t want it to.
{*}
This time they are in Spain, in a little secluded beach house near Marbella. Two days is all David could afford to break away from his schedule but it doesn’t matter, not when the sight that first greets him when he arrives is of Iker standing out on the small patio, his white shirt billowing in the wind, his feet bare. He looks out over the water, the beauty of the scenery and his own thoughts making him unaware of David’s arrival. David however, doesn’t mind at all; he places his overnight bag on the floor next to him and leans against the door of the patio as he watches in silence.
He looks peaceful, Iker does. He has his forearms resting comfortably against the iron railing, his eyes roaming over the calm waters. His shirt is a stark contrast to the rich tan of his skin, giving Iker a healthy and relaxed glow. David likes looking at him, likes seeing Iker content with everything around him. His eyes flicker to the beard on Iker’s face and David smiles, his hand touching the slight startings of his own. It is a coincidence; it really is that they would both forego shaving. But even something trivial like growing a beard at the same time just meant how attuned they are with each other.
Deciding he needs more than just to look, David quietly pads onto the patio. He steps behind Iker and takes in a breath before sliding his arms around his waist, his nose burying in his neck. Iker clasps his hands over David’s and leans back into him. They remain like that for some time, just revelling in the feel of each other, in the beautiful late summer day.
They don’t discuss things that they know will only end badly. They have learned from the past. Iker never asks David if and when he’s coming back to Real Madrid (or why he left in the first place). And David never asks Iker to give him more than he already is. David doesn’t know or understand how he found someone like Iker, who was willing to be placed in the shadows, to be 3rd place essentially in David’s life. Iker never complains, only reassures David with that smile of his that he would be anywhere David needs him to be. David knows he doesn’t deserve him but he’s too selfish to let him go.
In the beginning Iker didn’t like being the one David was cheating with but soon he came to understand that Victoria understood and oddly enough approved as long as he was the only one. He has learned to not question David’s relationship with his wife but Iker’s grateful that he’s allowed to have gotten to know their boys. All three of them remind Iker so much of David, each one having a little part of their father in them. He doesn’t see them often (he doesn’t even get to see their father that much) but every time he does, Iker cherishes those moments. He knows he wants children of his own one day.
Kissing the spot behind Iker’s ear, David spins him around. Iker’s eyes have a serious calmness about them but his lips wear a smile. David leans in, closing the space between their bodies and lets their lips meet in a soft kiss. He can feel Iker’s smile press against him. David links their fingers together and breaks their kiss to lead Iker inside.
Words still have not been exchanged but that’s okay with them. Iker can sense a need in David to be in charge and he lets him. There are no set rules in their relationship, no top no bottom, no dominate no submissive. There is only David and Iker.
The patio doors remain open as the two lovers make their way inside and to their bedroom. David indicates for Iker to take a seat on the bed as he goes to open all the windows and even the balcony doors, letting in the calming Spanish sun and air. He takes a deep breath and revels in being back in Spain for a moment before going back to the reason he is here.
He stops in front of Iker and kneels on the ground. Smiling, David leans in for a kiss, whispering a horribly pronounced ‘Hola’ against Iker’s lips. Iker lets out a little chuckle before returning the greeting. David rocks back, shifting the weight off his knees, as he reaches for Iker’s charcoal coloured pants. While David is focused on removing the item, Iker’s eyes never leave his form. David’s hair is a little shorter than the last time they saw each other (a little more ‘normal’ as well). His skin is richly tanned, hiding the few wrinkles that threaten to give away David’s age. Iker’s just happy to have a part of that, no matter how big or small that part may be.
David undoes the button and zipper carefully before tugging off the pants and underwear. Iker leans back onto his elbow without being told. As his skin is bared, a little shiver runs down his body, the cool air wafting in from the open windows. David looks up and smiles when he sees Iker tremor and runs a comforting hand up and down his thigh. However, it only adds to it and Iker shivers again. Their eyes lock and David nods, affirming words they don’t exchange. Placing both his hands on Iker’s bare thighs, David runs them up and down before pressing down to let himself up. Standing between Iker’s parted legs, he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side before quickly undoing his jeans and sliding out of them. He lowers himself on top of Iker carefully, flattening him out against the mattress, loving the feel of both Iker’s bare skin and soft shirt. Their lips meet, tongues yearning to reacquaint with each other. David slips his hands between their bodies and begins to remove Iker’s shirt, each button being stubborn in their own way. Luckily they don’t prove to be too difficult for David. He pushes it aside and his fingers begin to explore the body he has come to know and love.
Iker moans. It’s not just because David is touching him but at how he is. David’s fingers are exploring like it is their first time, yet reaffirming his spot on Iker’s body, in Iker’s life. His touch is soft and careful, then hard and possessive. Iker’s hands attach to David’s body as well; one on his lower back, the other in his hair. Iker tries to pull their bodies even closer, tries to suck David’s tongue harder, tries to rock their erections together. He needs more.
The fingers on his torso, his nipples leave as they slip to cup his shoulders and haul him up. Their kiss never breaks, their mouths too hungry for one another, as David finally pushes the shirt off Iker’s arms. It’s thrown somewhere to the side. Iker hisses when David’s fingers now wrap around his hard and needy cock. He silently prays David will hurry up but doesn’t voice his need. He doesn’t beg, not unless David wants him to. He knows he will be taken care of, just how he will take care of David.
Reluctantly, David breaks the kiss, his lips trailing along Iker’s jaw before nibbling on his earlobe. “Slide up the bed, yeah?” He pushes himself away, allowing the other man to do what he says as he gets up to retrieve supplies he knows should be here from the last time. He returns quickly with a bottle of lubricant in his hand. The only protection they use and need is their mind, their intelligence and their trust.
Iker slowly, barely, runs the tips of his fingers up his abdomen as he relaxes under the cushion of fluffy pillows. He knows better than to touch himself, so he doesn’t. Instead he watches David watch him. He follows David’s eyes as his lover trails his gaze over his body. His cock hardens further, now stiff against his stomach. When their eyes meet, Iker raises a brow, a smirk on his face. David answers with a laugh, shaking his head before climbing onto the bed and settling on top of Iker and between his legs.
When he’s with Iker, David has no worries; not about his family, not about the media, not about his football career. Everything seems to melt away, just leaving the two of them in their own little world. All the sneaking away seems justified when they are together, no matter how rare their meetings may be.
The cap is popped open; lubricant is poured onto fingers before the tube is discarded (again, tossed somewhere that they won’t worry about until much later). As David brings his finger to Iker’s entrance, they lips meet in a kiss once again, this time slow and sensual, and with every ounce of feeling they can manage. Just like how their tongues rub against each others, so does David’s finger, not quite breeching. He can feel Iker’s body shudder under his. David swallows his moan as he finally pushes his finger inside.
It never matters how much time passes before seeing each other again. It could be two week, four months, a year. David’s body only knows Iker as does Iker’s. It may not be like their first time all over again, but every and each time they do come together, physically, emotionally, sexually, it’s everything that their first time was and more.
Iker clutches David’s shoulders as his body is lit with such fire from head to toe. He wraps his legs around his waist when David finally penetrates him, his lips tearing away from David’s when he throws his head back. He knows he’s not making any sense, garbled Spanish flying from his lips but that doesn’t matter. David buries his face in the crook of his neck, whispering unidentifiable words of his own against Iker’s skin, along with warm kisses.
They move together in a way that only they know how. Every sigh is answered by a moan. Every kiss returned with a thrust. Much time may have passed yet in this moment, it stops altogether. There is only David, and only Iker. They rock together until they reach the height of their climax. David eases up just a little, his elbows resting on top of Iker’s shoulders as he bends down to place kisses on every inch of Iker’s face.
Iker’s sated body rests half on David, half on the bed. He runs his fingers up and down David’s arm, his ears focused on their conversation but his eyes roam over David’s tattoos. His thumb traces over dark ink, over words of love and meaning. He silently hopes that one day he’ll be among David’s art, and not just a distant memory.
They remain in bed, talking softly about idle things. Iker fills David in about the team he can no longer call his but still cares about; David does the same about his kids. They talk about the World Cup that’s less than a year away now. Poor English and equally as horrendous Spanish fill the air as the two lovers bask in the short time they have together.