fic: detour
title: detour
pairing: xabi alonso/steven gerrard
rating: nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
set after oct12/10's matches. for parparheaven & shambolicasfuck ♥ hehehe
He’s playing with fire; he knows this but there is no way in hell he’s going to be in the UK and not go to Liverpool. He has promised Iker his next child, a favour, anything the goalkeeper would want from him for reassuring Mourinho of his whereabouts (and well Sergio too who has agreed to take his luggage back for him). When he’s this close, this fucking close there is no way he is just going back straight to Madrid.
The flight to Liverpool is way too long though it isn’t (it’s just over an hour) but by the time he arrives to the apartment he bought with Steven three years ago it’s close to three in the morning and all he wants to do is collapse into bed. He’s so tired that it takes him about four attempts to connect the key with the lock. Sleep sounds wonderful right about now.
When he opens the door, the flat is quiet and Xabi smiles. He’s home for the first time in almost a year. He thinks Steven is already asleep despite the soft light of their bedroom still shining. Fortunately he’s wrong.
“Hello, lad.”
Steven’s soft voice makes Xabi smile as does the sight of his (former) captain completely bare of clothes.
“You should be sleeping.”
Steven laughs lowly, signalling the Spaniard to enter their room. “When I knew you were arriving?” When Xabi gets close enough to the bed he reaches for his wrist and tugs. “Hello, Xabi.”
When Steven kisses him Xabi’s senses wake up, like he’s just had a double espresso. He moans against a pliant mouth, loving the way Steven has already given his submission within minutes of his arrival. He had been expecting it (Steven usually gets this way after a loss) but normally there would be more resistance. Though Xabi is not complaining at all.
“Missed you,” is whispered against his lips and Xabi drinks it in, savours it on his tongue and in his body. “Fuck me right now.”
He growls. Steven knows how to push his buttons and isn’t wasting any time in doing so. He can feel how hard his Englishman is against his leg. Tearing their lips apart, Xabi pulls back far enough to see that Steven’s eyes are wild and needy. He brings his hands to frame his face, his thumbs rubbing gently across his cheeks.
“Turn around.”
Xabi gets off the bed and quickly removes his clothes as he watches his command is obeyed. He pulls on his cock as it twitches, the cold air whispering his skin as it is uncovered. Steven is on all fours, his arse on display as he looks over his shoulder.
It’s been too long, too fucking long. Xabi’s mind just shuts down. It’s all just instinct from here. He gropes the drawers next to the bed for the lubricant and barely has it in his hand before he pours out a good enough amount in his palm. One finger slips inside Steven and he hangs his head between his shoulders. He bites his lip to suppress a moan but Xabi still manages to hear it. One finger becomes two though the motions are erratic. He’s not being gentle right now but he knows Steven understands and will forgive him.
“Do it, Xabi. Now.”
And who is Xabi to refuse? He uses the remnants of the lubricant on his cock and though he wants nothing more than just thrust right into Steven’s body, Xabi takes a deep breath and places one hand on his shoulder to anchor himself. With the other one on his cock he slowly begins to push.
It’s been way too long.
“Xabi” And thus beings the chant, his voice breathy and raspy. It sets the rhythm of their fucking with Xabi matching every moan of his name. It’s a heady feeling - one he doesn’t ever want to end. He has Steven Gerrard, Steven fucking Gerrard, groaning shamelessly as he pushes back against his cock. Xabi’s trying to savour it for all its worth.
Nails dig into the skin of his shoulder and it feels good simply for the fact that he can actually feel it. The world is cruelly falling around him but as long as he has this, has Xabi even just for this moment fucking him like he means it, like he cares at least Steven knows he still has the ability to feel.
“Harder, Xabi. Xabi, Xabi...”
The noise of flesh meeting flesh fills the air mixed in with grunts, gasps and moans. He doesn’t know what possess him to do it but Xabi leans down and bites the juncture of Steven’s neck, thrusting in particularly hard as he does so. The scream that it earns him is just as good as the squeeze around his cock as Steven tightens up impossibly so. He thrusts in one more time before coming hard, so hard he closes his eyes and sees flashes of bright light.
Falling forward he covers the expanse of Steven’s back, his breath warming his already hot and damp skin of his neck. Xabi reaches in between Steven’s legs for his cock and lets out a tiny laugh when he feels come already spent.
“I don’t know if I should say sorry or you’re welcome,” Xabi laughs as he helps Steven flip over onto his back. He gets shoved before being pulled tight against Steven’s chest. And of sudden he’s never been more tired, muscles and bones crying out for sleep.
“Really do miss you, lad,” Steven mumbles into his hair as he pulls the blanket over their bodies. Xabi’s settles his head onto his chest, wondering much shit he would be in if he doesn’t get back to Madrid until Thursday.
pairing: xabi alonso/steven gerrard
rating: nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
set after oct12/10's matches. for parparheaven & shambolicasfuck ♥ hehehe
He’s playing with fire; he knows this but there is no way in hell he’s going to be in the UK and not go to Liverpool. He has promised Iker his next child, a favour, anything the goalkeeper would want from him for reassuring Mourinho of his whereabouts (and well Sergio too who has agreed to take his luggage back for him). When he’s this close, this fucking close there is no way he is just going back straight to Madrid.
The flight to Liverpool is way too long though it isn’t (it’s just over an hour) but by the time he arrives to the apartment he bought with Steven three years ago it’s close to three in the morning and all he wants to do is collapse into bed. He’s so tired that it takes him about four attempts to connect the key with the lock. Sleep sounds wonderful right about now.
When he opens the door, the flat is quiet and Xabi smiles. He’s home for the first time in almost a year. He thinks Steven is already asleep despite the soft light of their bedroom still shining. Fortunately he’s wrong.
“Hello, lad.”
Steven’s soft voice makes Xabi smile as does the sight of his (former) captain completely bare of clothes.
“You should be sleeping.”
Steven laughs lowly, signalling the Spaniard to enter their room. “When I knew you were arriving?” When Xabi gets close enough to the bed he reaches for his wrist and tugs. “Hello, Xabi.”
When Steven kisses him Xabi’s senses wake up, like he’s just had a double espresso. He moans against a pliant mouth, loving the way Steven has already given his submission within minutes of his arrival. He had been expecting it (Steven usually gets this way after a loss) but normally there would be more resistance. Though Xabi is not complaining at all.
“Missed you,” is whispered against his lips and Xabi drinks it in, savours it on his tongue and in his body. “Fuck me right now.”
He growls. Steven knows how to push his buttons and isn’t wasting any time in doing so. He can feel how hard his Englishman is against his leg. Tearing their lips apart, Xabi pulls back far enough to see that Steven’s eyes are wild and needy. He brings his hands to frame his face, his thumbs rubbing gently across his cheeks.
“Turn around.”
Xabi gets off the bed and quickly removes his clothes as he watches his command is obeyed. He pulls on his cock as it twitches, the cold air whispering his skin as it is uncovered. Steven is on all fours, his arse on display as he looks over his shoulder.
It’s been too long, too fucking long. Xabi’s mind just shuts down. It’s all just instinct from here. He gropes the drawers next to the bed for the lubricant and barely has it in his hand before he pours out a good enough amount in his palm. One finger slips inside Steven and he hangs his head between his shoulders. He bites his lip to suppress a moan but Xabi still manages to hear it. One finger becomes two though the motions are erratic. He’s not being gentle right now but he knows Steven understands and will forgive him.
“Do it, Xabi. Now.”
And who is Xabi to refuse? He uses the remnants of the lubricant on his cock and though he wants nothing more than just thrust right into Steven’s body, Xabi takes a deep breath and places one hand on his shoulder to anchor himself. With the other one on his cock he slowly begins to push.
It’s been way too long.
“Xabi” And thus beings the chant, his voice breathy and raspy. It sets the rhythm of their fucking with Xabi matching every moan of his name. It’s a heady feeling - one he doesn’t ever want to end. He has Steven Gerrard, Steven fucking Gerrard, groaning shamelessly as he pushes back against his cock. Xabi’s trying to savour it for all its worth.
Nails dig into the skin of his shoulder and it feels good simply for the fact that he can actually feel it. The world is cruelly falling around him but as long as he has this, has Xabi even just for this moment fucking him like he means it, like he cares at least Steven knows he still has the ability to feel.
“Harder, Xabi. Xabi, Xabi...”
The noise of flesh meeting flesh fills the air mixed in with grunts, gasps and moans. He doesn’t know what possess him to do it but Xabi leans down and bites the juncture of Steven’s neck, thrusting in particularly hard as he does so. The scream that it earns him is just as good as the squeeze around his cock as Steven tightens up impossibly so. He thrusts in one more time before coming hard, so hard he closes his eyes and sees flashes of bright light.
Falling forward he covers the expanse of Steven’s back, his breath warming his already hot and damp skin of his neck. Xabi reaches in between Steven’s legs for his cock and lets out a tiny laugh when he feels come already spent.
“I don’t know if I should say sorry or you’re welcome,” Xabi laughs as he helps Steven flip over onto his back. He gets shoved before being pulled tight against Steven’s chest. And of sudden he’s never been more tired, muscles and bones crying out for sleep.
“Really do miss you, lad,” Steven mumbles into his hair as he pulls the blanket over their bodies. Xabi’s settles his head onto his chest, wondering much shit he would be in if he doesn’t get back to Madrid until Thursday.