footballverse fic
title: be back soon
pairing: iker casillas/david beckham
rating: pg-13
disclaimer: fiction
written for footballverse season three. prompt: shakespeare
The heat of Los Angeles is so much different than Madrid, than Spain in general. It prickles at the skin, gets underneath it and sets fire to all the nerves. Being boxed in by clouds of smog doesn’t help either. The hustle and bustle of people are similar however and the tourists always stick out from the natives no matter which city it is.
Iker loves visiting other cities, seeing and learning other’s histories. For a moment he lets himself become immersed it, in the culture, in the traditions, in the language he doesn’t quite have a great grasp on.
Night is slowly falling onto the city of Angels as Iker watches from the porch that isn’t his, looking down at the illuminating lights. That is another difference. Los Angeles is so bright, so lit up compared to Madrid. He doesn’t know if he could ever survive under such lights.
“Ready to go?”
The soft voice is in his ear, a lilt of British that is as foreign as he is in this country. A pair of arms slide around his waist, loosely fitting their bodies together.
“Is beautiful. I wish I could see more.”
A kiss is pressed to the back of his neck, right on the nape and Iker turns around slowly. He smiles when he sees David looking at him sympathetically.
“You will the next time you are here.”
Iker laughs before he presses their lips together in a soft kiss. The perks of having your house on the highest hill...
When they kiss one last time in David’s escalade in the airport’s parking lot Iker whispers something that sounds, feels, a lot like ‘soon’ against his lips.
Parting is such sweet sorrow.
pairing: iker casillas/david beckham
rating: pg-13
disclaimer: fiction
written for footballverse season three. prompt: shakespeare
The heat of Los Angeles is so much different than Madrid, than Spain in general. It prickles at the skin, gets underneath it and sets fire to all the nerves. Being boxed in by clouds of smog doesn’t help either. The hustle and bustle of people are similar however and the tourists always stick out from the natives no matter which city it is.
Iker loves visiting other cities, seeing and learning other’s histories. For a moment he lets himself become immersed it, in the culture, in the traditions, in the language he doesn’t quite have a great grasp on.
Night is slowly falling onto the city of Angels as Iker watches from the porch that isn’t his, looking down at the illuminating lights. That is another difference. Los Angeles is so bright, so lit up compared to Madrid. He doesn’t know if he could ever survive under such lights.
“Ready to go?”
The soft voice is in his ear, a lilt of British that is as foreign as he is in this country. A pair of arms slide around his waist, loosely fitting their bodies together.
“Is beautiful. I wish I could see more.”
A kiss is pressed to the back of his neck, right on the nape and Iker turns around slowly. He smiles when he sees David looking at him sympathetically.
“You will the next time you are here.”
Iker laughs before he presses their lips together in a soft kiss. The perks of having your house on the highest hill...
When they kiss one last time in David’s escalade in the airport’s parking lot Iker whispers something that sounds, feels, a lot like ‘soon’ against his lips.
Parting is such sweet sorrow.