fic: the same lie every time
title: the same lie every time
pairing: xabi alonso/cesc fabregas
rating: nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
summary: it's always the same struggle (idk PWP really)
for flvy & because hot boys deserve more fictional sex
As soon as the door to the hotel room closes, Cesc has Xabi pressed flush against it. He pins Xabi’s wrist down but Cesc isn’t as strong and Xabi is able to easily push back. However, Cesc slips his thigh in between Xabi’s and before the older man can react, he presses their lips together, silencing any possible protests.
It’s the same struggle every time they meet up for international duty and just because this is the World Cup does not make it any different. But each and every single time, Xabi fights it - fights Cesc - because... it just isn’t right.
“Stop it, Fabregas,” Xabi pants as he tries to buck Cesc off of him. Instead however all he manages to do is rub their lower halves together, eliciting a moan from the younger man.
“Fabregas huh?” Cesc murmurs against his lips, pressing his thigh a little harder against Xabi’s groin. “Why do you do this, Xabi?”
Xabi just makes a non-committal noise.
“I mean you’ll be screaming my name regardless so why do you act like this every single time?”
Their eyes meet; Cesc’s are misleading - hard with a teasing glint - and Xabi lets his own flicker to Cesc’s lips when he pokes out his tongue to wet them. In that instance, he knows he has Xabi beat. So he closes the distance between them once again and kisses him with fervour. Cesc’s tightens his grip on Xabi’s wrists who is no longer putting up a fight but instead lets himself mould to the younger man’s will.
Cesc’s presses his lips harder against Xabi’s, noting how rough his beard feels against his own soft skin. He likes it. It’s like it is a paradox of the man because Xabi could never be anything but gentle, kind, caring. It lets Cesc think - for a moment - that maybe if pushed hard enough, the older man would let go of his ambitions and maybe, just maybe, be the one who initiates whatever they have going on between them.
Pulling back slightly, Cesc grins as he licks at Xabi’s chin, the prickle against his tongue not bothering him whatsoever. Xabi’s head hits the door with a loud thud in the quiet room. His breath hitches as Cesc trails his tongue down his throat and begins to suck on his pulse point. Hard.
“Cesc... You c-can’t... Fuck!”
Cesc must have let go of his wrists because Xabi finds himself wrapping his hands around the younger man’s body, pulling them as close as humanly possible. Suddenly the pressure on his neck is gone and Xabi cannot help but miss it.
“I’m not stupid, Xabi.”
There’s a nip to his skin before a laving tongue soothes it almost immediately. Xabi bites his lower lip, trying so hard to prevent himself from begging. He doesn’t beg. And definitely not for Cesc.
Luckily for him, Cesc takes pity on him. One hand dips under his shirt while the other rubs at Xabi’s hip teasingly before slipping under the waistband of his jeans. He doesn’t waste any time as he grips Xabi’s cock tightly in his grasp.
“Fuck me, Xabi.”
When Xabi tries to push away from the door however, Cesc slams him backward, the force catching him off guard completely. His body hits the plaster hard. It makes Xabi moan.
“No, no. Fuck me against the door.”
Another moan escapes from Xabi’s lips, the sound utterly shameless and needy. But he doesn’t care. Instead he lunges forward and all but swallows Cesc’s mouth as he kisses him hard. Cesc’s only response is to try to rip their clothes off as quickly as possible. After pushing down Xabi’s pants to his thighs (his shirt tossed somewhere without care), Cesc’s turns his attention to his own and the older man takes advantage of the situation. Grabbing Cesc by the shoulders, Xabi spins then around and pins him to the door. The younger man’s eyes widen in surprise, his fingers frozen on the button of his jeans.
“Hurry up, Cesc!” Xabi hisses as he shoves his fingers out of the way to replace them with his own. He makes quick work of Cesc’s pants, leaving him almost immobile (but it’s not like Cesc wants to go anywhere anyway) before he turns him around and presses his face against the door.
“Do you have anything?”
“Pocket,” Cesc spits out.
Sliding his hand over Cesc’s ass and down his thigh, Xabi slips his fingers into his pocket and retrieves a condom. It doesn’t take him long to line up his body with the younger man’s, to roll the protection down his cock, his spit the only lubricant available. But before he pushes in, Xabi leans his forehead against the back of Cesc’s still clothed shoulder, his breath warm and moist through the fabric.
“The bed is only a few feet away.”
Cesc’s only response is to push his hips back and moan when his ass comes in contact with a hard cock. It’s enough to dismiss any lingering doubts Xabi may have. With one hand wrapped around Cesc’s hip possessively, Xabi takes his cock and carefully presses inside.
There’s a sharp intake of breath as Cesc arches his back. It hurts of course it does. But the pain is not enough for Cesc to make Xabi stop or complain in anyway. He’s not new to this and if he’s honest with himself he likes a little bit of pain. It only makes him crave it even more.
“Harder, Xabi.”
Xabi lets out a shaky laugh before he curls his free hand around his hips as well, allowing himself to get a good grip before snapping his hips. Cesc collides hard with the door and when Xabi stops, he’s not having any of it.
“Fuck me hard, Xabi. Worry about the bruises later.”
Another snap of the hips sets the pace of the rough fucking Cesc wants and needs. They fall into the routine they always do. Xabi’s long forgotten about protesting or putting up a fight and Cesc is too caught up in the sensations to realise how utterly shameless he’s being.
Xabi presses his lips against his neck, his beard rough against soft and warm skin. The prickle makes Cesc shiver as he pushes his hips out further to meet Xabi’s hard thrusts. He can hear, feel the hitch in Xabi’s breathing and Cesc squeezes around his cock, his hands flying down to grasp his own.
It’s hard, fast and messy and when they’ve both come all that can be heard is shallow breathing. Xabi slumps forward and now he really wishes they at least took the time to undress properly as Cesc’s shirt is in the way of allowing Xabi to touch and caress younger skin.
“Fuck.”
Xabi lets out a small chuckle, the puff of breath hot on Cesc’s neck. “Done that already. Shower?”
Cesc makes a noise of agreement but squeezes his muscles around xabi’s softening cock for good measure.
“Don’t, Cesc,” Xabi tries to say in his warning voice but it just sounds pained instead. “You know we can’t-”
“Do this again,” Cesc says with a grin and a nod. “I know, Xabi.”
Before they retreat to the bathroom where Xabi will fruitfully fight off Cesc’s insisting that they should shower together before giving in eventually (because he always does), they share a look of understanding. Of course there will be a next time. There always is.
pairing: xabi alonso/cesc fabregas
rating: nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
summary: it's always the same struggle (idk PWP really)
for flvy & because hot boys deserve more fictional sex
As soon as the door to the hotel room closes, Cesc has Xabi pressed flush against it. He pins Xabi’s wrist down but Cesc isn’t as strong and Xabi is able to easily push back. However, Cesc slips his thigh in between Xabi’s and before the older man can react, he presses their lips together, silencing any possible protests.
It’s the same struggle every time they meet up for international duty and just because this is the World Cup does not make it any different. But each and every single time, Xabi fights it - fights Cesc - because... it just isn’t right.
“Stop it, Fabregas,” Xabi pants as he tries to buck Cesc off of him. Instead however all he manages to do is rub their lower halves together, eliciting a moan from the younger man.
“Fabregas huh?” Cesc murmurs against his lips, pressing his thigh a little harder against Xabi’s groin. “Why do you do this, Xabi?”
Xabi just makes a non-committal noise.
“I mean you’ll be screaming my name regardless so why do you act like this every single time?”
Their eyes meet; Cesc’s are misleading - hard with a teasing glint - and Xabi lets his own flicker to Cesc’s lips when he pokes out his tongue to wet them. In that instance, he knows he has Xabi beat. So he closes the distance between them once again and kisses him with fervour. Cesc’s tightens his grip on Xabi’s wrists who is no longer putting up a fight but instead lets himself mould to the younger man’s will.
Cesc’s presses his lips harder against Xabi’s, noting how rough his beard feels against his own soft skin. He likes it. It’s like it is a paradox of the man because Xabi could never be anything but gentle, kind, caring. It lets Cesc think - for a moment - that maybe if pushed hard enough, the older man would let go of his ambitions and maybe, just maybe, be the one who initiates whatever they have going on between them.
Pulling back slightly, Cesc grins as he licks at Xabi’s chin, the prickle against his tongue not bothering him whatsoever. Xabi’s head hits the door with a loud thud in the quiet room. His breath hitches as Cesc trails his tongue down his throat and begins to suck on his pulse point. Hard.
“Cesc... You c-can’t... Fuck!”
Cesc must have let go of his wrists because Xabi finds himself wrapping his hands around the younger man’s body, pulling them as close as humanly possible. Suddenly the pressure on his neck is gone and Xabi cannot help but miss it.
“I’m not stupid, Xabi.”
There’s a nip to his skin before a laving tongue soothes it almost immediately. Xabi bites his lower lip, trying so hard to prevent himself from begging. He doesn’t beg. And definitely not for Cesc.
Luckily for him, Cesc takes pity on him. One hand dips under his shirt while the other rubs at Xabi’s hip teasingly before slipping under the waistband of his jeans. He doesn’t waste any time as he grips Xabi’s cock tightly in his grasp.
“Fuck me, Xabi.”
When Xabi tries to push away from the door however, Cesc slams him backward, the force catching him off guard completely. His body hits the plaster hard. It makes Xabi moan.
“No, no. Fuck me against the door.”
Another moan escapes from Xabi’s lips, the sound utterly shameless and needy. But he doesn’t care. Instead he lunges forward and all but swallows Cesc’s mouth as he kisses him hard. Cesc’s only response is to try to rip their clothes off as quickly as possible. After pushing down Xabi’s pants to his thighs (his shirt tossed somewhere without care), Cesc’s turns his attention to his own and the older man takes advantage of the situation. Grabbing Cesc by the shoulders, Xabi spins then around and pins him to the door. The younger man’s eyes widen in surprise, his fingers frozen on the button of his jeans.
“Hurry up, Cesc!” Xabi hisses as he shoves his fingers out of the way to replace them with his own. He makes quick work of Cesc’s pants, leaving him almost immobile (but it’s not like Cesc wants to go anywhere anyway) before he turns him around and presses his face against the door.
“Do you have anything?”
“Pocket,” Cesc spits out.
Sliding his hand over Cesc’s ass and down his thigh, Xabi slips his fingers into his pocket and retrieves a condom. It doesn’t take him long to line up his body with the younger man’s, to roll the protection down his cock, his spit the only lubricant available. But before he pushes in, Xabi leans his forehead against the back of Cesc’s still clothed shoulder, his breath warm and moist through the fabric.
“The bed is only a few feet away.”
Cesc’s only response is to push his hips back and moan when his ass comes in contact with a hard cock. It’s enough to dismiss any lingering doubts Xabi may have. With one hand wrapped around Cesc’s hip possessively, Xabi takes his cock and carefully presses inside.
There’s a sharp intake of breath as Cesc arches his back. It hurts of course it does. But the pain is not enough for Cesc to make Xabi stop or complain in anyway. He’s not new to this and if he’s honest with himself he likes a little bit of pain. It only makes him crave it even more.
“Harder, Xabi.”
Xabi lets out a shaky laugh before he curls his free hand around his hips as well, allowing himself to get a good grip before snapping his hips. Cesc collides hard with the door and when Xabi stops, he’s not having any of it.
“Fuck me hard, Xabi. Worry about the bruises later.”
Another snap of the hips sets the pace of the rough fucking Cesc wants and needs. They fall into the routine they always do. Xabi’s long forgotten about protesting or putting up a fight and Cesc is too caught up in the sensations to realise how utterly shameless he’s being.
Xabi presses his lips against his neck, his beard rough against soft and warm skin. The prickle makes Cesc shiver as he pushes his hips out further to meet Xabi’s hard thrusts. He can hear, feel the hitch in Xabi’s breathing and Cesc squeezes around his cock, his hands flying down to grasp his own.
It’s hard, fast and messy and when they’ve both come all that can be heard is shallow breathing. Xabi slumps forward and now he really wishes they at least took the time to undress properly as Cesc’s shirt is in the way of allowing Xabi to touch and caress younger skin.
“Fuck.”
Xabi lets out a small chuckle, the puff of breath hot on Cesc’s neck. “Done that already. Shower?”
Cesc makes a noise of agreement but squeezes his muscles around xabi’s softening cock for good measure.
“Don’t, Cesc,” Xabi tries to say in his warning voice but it just sounds pained instead. “You know we can’t-”
“Do this again,” Cesc says with a grin and a nod. “I know, Xabi.”
Before they retreat to the bathroom where Xabi will fruitfully fight off Cesc’s insisting that they should shower together before giving in eventually (because he always does), they share a look of understanding. Of course there will be a next time. There always is.