fic: it starts with a picture and it sits in your frame
title: it starts with a picture and it sits in your frame
pairing: iker casillas/sergio ramos/fernando torres
rating: r
disclaimer: fiction
written for prompt left at footballkink: Iker Casillas/Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos - something sweet where all three are equal in the relationship
Twenty minutes after arriving to the hotel for a friendly, Iker feels the familiar weight of expectations settle into his bones. His meetings with Del Bosque are nothing but respectful yet they leave him feeling exhausted, like he ran twenty laps around the pitch. It’s not a new feeling however. It hasn’t been for long time now, no matter if he wears the white of his club or the red of his country. Pressure, expectations - it comes with the territory.
When he pushes the door to his hotel room open after meeting with Del Bosque about things he already knows, Iker feels the buzz of expectancy within his body quieten.
Sergio is lying sideways on the bed, his hair fanned out beneath his head as he happily chats away on the phone. Iker’s gaze trails from his smiling eyes to patch of skin that is exposed by his shirt riding up to Fernando’s soft hand gently tracing his ankle, just below the cuff of his jeans. Iker settles his eyes on Fernando who offers a private smile as he sits in a lounger next to the bed. The dying sunlight filters in from the window behind him and hits Fernando’s hair, making it look like burnt gold. He looks happy - a sight Iker hasn’t seen since the World Cup.
Iker settles next to Sergio, leaving just enough space so their bodies don’t actually touch but close enough that they can feel each other. A hand hauls his calf up and he laughs as he lifts his head to see Fernando gently massaging his skin too. With the feel of Fernando’s touch on his skin and Sergio’s laughter in his ears, Iker closes his eyes and dreams.
{*}
Whenever Sergio and Fernando room together, Fernando showers first because waiting after the defender could take up to hours. Oh, Fernando cares about his look just as much as the next person but no one can touch Sergio in that department. So, he has learned to wake up first. And there is nothing better for Fernando than a shower in the morning. There is something in the feel of hot water flowing down his body, like it is seeping into his muscles and soothing the strains there. Sometimes he feels more comfortable - safer - in water than he does on the pitch.
He towels dry and opts for shorts, foregoing a shirt. When he walks out of the bathroom, he sees Iker on top of Sergio, still fully clothed and hands in his hair. It looks like the captain had tried to get his defender up and out of bed yet somewhere he failed because he has his lips pressed against Sergio’s with insistency.
Fernando loves this - loves watching the two together. There’s something in the way they interact - intimately or not - that reflects such fluidity. Sergio always pushes, knows to push beyond limits and not give a fuck because Iker (and Fernando as well) will always give in. But Iker... Iker holds such dominance, authority, in his bones that he still pins down Sergio every single time, still holds him down that every push up against him looks like a dance that only they understand. Fernando wishes he could trade London for Madrid just to see them together more often.
“Are you going to keep watching or join in?”
Iker’s voice, tinged with annoyance, breaks through Fernando’s thoughts, followed by Sergio’s soft laughter. It only takes him a second to slide up behind Iker and fall into the routine of them.
{*)
When it comes to pleasures of the body, Sergio is never one to deny himself. From the tips of his toes up his legs, through his fingers and up to his hair, sex is something to feel and cherish. But he’s not a selfish lover - never. To have his lover curl their toes speaks volumes than actual sounds. It’s what gets him off the most.
Yet tonight he has told himself he will not touch, will not participate, only watch. Watch Iker and Fernando tear into each other in front of him. It’s difficult for Sergio to remain still and unaffected when Fernando arches his back, moans spilling from him lips so easily, when Iker holds onto him so tightly there are crescent marks carved into pale skin. His restraint is failing.
Iker and Fernando are almost never together, never alone anyway. Too many missed opportunities and too many formalities that get in the way. This is the reason why Sergio stops himself from joining in or make himself the center point of this relationship. He knows he demands so much from then, naturally his age flows out when it’s just the three of them as does the protective nature of Iker and Fernando of the young defender. It’s just how they are. But moments like this, he knows they love him just as much he does them.
When he comes much later, he’s laying in between Iker and Fernando, either one of his shoulders resting on theirs, their hands spread his come on his stomach. And when he leans up for a kiss, he meets two sets of lips, not knowing who kisses him first. It doesn’t matter.
pairing: iker casillas/sergio ramos/fernando torres
rating: r
disclaimer: fiction
written for prompt left at footballkink: Iker Casillas/Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos - something sweet where all three are equal in the relationship
Twenty minutes after arriving to the hotel for a friendly, Iker feels the familiar weight of expectations settle into his bones. His meetings with Del Bosque are nothing but respectful yet they leave him feeling exhausted, like he ran twenty laps around the pitch. It’s not a new feeling however. It hasn’t been for long time now, no matter if he wears the white of his club or the red of his country. Pressure, expectations - it comes with the territory.
When he pushes the door to his hotel room open after meeting with Del Bosque about things he already knows, Iker feels the buzz of expectancy within his body quieten.
Sergio is lying sideways on the bed, his hair fanned out beneath his head as he happily chats away on the phone. Iker’s gaze trails from his smiling eyes to patch of skin that is exposed by his shirt riding up to Fernando’s soft hand gently tracing his ankle, just below the cuff of his jeans. Iker settles his eyes on Fernando who offers a private smile as he sits in a lounger next to the bed. The dying sunlight filters in from the window behind him and hits Fernando’s hair, making it look like burnt gold. He looks happy - a sight Iker hasn’t seen since the World Cup.
Iker settles next to Sergio, leaving just enough space so their bodies don’t actually touch but close enough that they can feel each other. A hand hauls his calf up and he laughs as he lifts his head to see Fernando gently massaging his skin too. With the feel of Fernando’s touch on his skin and Sergio’s laughter in his ears, Iker closes his eyes and dreams.
{*}
Whenever Sergio and Fernando room together, Fernando showers first because waiting after the defender could take up to hours. Oh, Fernando cares about his look just as much as the next person but no one can touch Sergio in that department. So, he has learned to wake up first. And there is nothing better for Fernando than a shower in the morning. There is something in the feel of hot water flowing down his body, like it is seeping into his muscles and soothing the strains there. Sometimes he feels more comfortable - safer - in water than he does on the pitch.
He towels dry and opts for shorts, foregoing a shirt. When he walks out of the bathroom, he sees Iker on top of Sergio, still fully clothed and hands in his hair. It looks like the captain had tried to get his defender up and out of bed yet somewhere he failed because he has his lips pressed against Sergio’s with insistency.
Fernando loves this - loves watching the two together. There’s something in the way they interact - intimately or not - that reflects such fluidity. Sergio always pushes, knows to push beyond limits and not give a fuck because Iker (and Fernando as well) will always give in. But Iker... Iker holds such dominance, authority, in his bones that he still pins down Sergio every single time, still holds him down that every push up against him looks like a dance that only they understand. Fernando wishes he could trade London for Madrid just to see them together more often.
“Are you going to keep watching or join in?”
Iker’s voice, tinged with annoyance, breaks through Fernando’s thoughts, followed by Sergio’s soft laughter. It only takes him a second to slide up behind Iker and fall into the routine of them.
{*)
When it comes to pleasures of the body, Sergio is never one to deny himself. From the tips of his toes up his legs, through his fingers and up to his hair, sex is something to feel and cherish. But he’s not a selfish lover - never. To have his lover curl their toes speaks volumes than actual sounds. It’s what gets him off the most.
Yet tonight he has told himself he will not touch, will not participate, only watch. Watch Iker and Fernando tear into each other in front of him. It’s difficult for Sergio to remain still and unaffected when Fernando arches his back, moans spilling from him lips so easily, when Iker holds onto him so tightly there are crescent marks carved into pale skin. His restraint is failing.
Iker and Fernando are almost never together, never alone anyway. Too many missed opportunities and too many formalities that get in the way. This is the reason why Sergio stops himself from joining in or make himself the center point of this relationship. He knows he demands so much from then, naturally his age flows out when it’s just the three of them as does the protective nature of Iker and Fernando of the young defender. It’s just how they are. But moments like this, he knows they love him just as much he does them.
When he comes much later, he’s laying in between Iker and Fernando, either one of his shoulders resting on theirs, their hands spread his come on his stomach. And when he leans up for a kiss, he meets two sets of lips, not knowing who kisses him first. It doesn’t matter.