fic: six on the second hand
title: six on the second hand
pairing: aitor karanka/karim benzema
rating: r/nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
a/n: this is mainly based on karim and starts in summer of 2011 and accounts for the events up to the first league match of this season. after that, all details on the matches are fiction as well. though it follows karim, there is slash thrown in for good measure and other members of the club as well. yay madrid!
for this prompt table
written for the only girl who can make me write on vacation :) ♥
After a year, Karim thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's finally used to the Spanish air and heat. It doesn't prick at his skin anymore, doesn't burn his hairless skull. He's come to appreciate it, to love the feeling of the warm glow that greets him each morning though the window. It's been two years but he finally thinks he's at home.
**
“Karim, come here!”
Knowing not to disobey Jose under any circumstances, he gets up from where he is sitting on the pitch, listening to Cristiano and Pepe get into their daily banter and hustles over to where Jose and Aitor are standing with their arms folded.
“Yes, mister?”
“I'm glad you didn't lose track this summer,” Jose says getting right into it. His voice is tinted with amusement. “Keep it up and you'll be rewarded.” He pats Karim on the shoulder, smiling because the younger man is.
“Thank you. I feel better for this season.”
“I know and if we can't make you and Pipa work together then you'll need to show me why you are better,” Jose pauses, his lips still curled in a smile. “If you are.”
He leaves Karim with one last pat to his head.
“That's Mou for you.”
Karim looks at Aitor who wears a look of amusement on his face.
“Praise and doubt all in the same breath.” Aitor shakes his head. “You really have improved, Karim. You have this... new hunger in you.”
Karim laughs as he rubs the back of his neck. “I just want to play.”
Coming in close, Aitor claps him on the shoulder. “I know and so does el mister.” He cuts off the distance between them, his voice dropping. “Zidane is here for a reason. We all know what you are capable of.”
Karim looks at him and sees the sincerity and hope Aitor carries in his eyes. It catches him off guard. “Thank you.” And really that's all he can say.
**
They go to America and Karim feels like his legs and feet are finally in sync with his brain. He doesn't put too much weight on the number of goals he scores because it's preseason and against teamsthat are no where near the level of those they will face this coming season. But he feels better and that's something no one could take away from him.
So he focuses on the positives; goals and interacting with the team. Learning Spanish has been harder than he imagined when he first signed from Lyon but everyone is still helping him in one way or another. Karim has let his guard down a few inches and he can't help but think that's translated to his play on the pitch.
**
“Karim, you seem to like kids. Can I sign you up to take care of Cristiano Junior?”
He kicks the ball in the direction of the laughing man, though Karim smirks as well.
“Well, someone needs to teach him how to be a man, no?”
And Cristiano launches the ball back at him. Hard. Luckily Karim is ready for it and ducks his head, laughing when he looks up again.
China is a good time. Everyone seems to be relaxed and not looking ahead to the Spanish Supercup just yet. Karim feels comfortable on th pitch with Cristiano and Mesut and he knows Jose sees it as well.
**
When they arrive back in Madrid, the city's eyes are on the Supercup and nothing else. Jose and Aitor give nothing away to the press but in training, each and every member of the team works twice as hard.
Near the end of the last training session before the first leg of the final Aitor pulls Karim to the side.
“El mister wants to know how you feel.”
Karim looks up to the sky, cloudless and bright. “Like I can start.” His eyes turn to Aitor so he can see how serious the Frenchman is.
Aitor breaks out in a smile. “That's what we want to hear.” He pats he cheek. “Finish your stretches then go shower.”
The look Karim gives him before he nods his head and walks off puzzles Aitor but he doesn't think anything about it. Or at least tries not to.
**
He can hear Jose talking, can even decipher what he is saying but Karim closes his eyes and focuses on what he needs to do. At this moment in the match, Madrid is the better team but that doesn't reflect on the scoreboard.
Every club had their rivalries; it's apart of football but Karim has never experienced one quite like Real Madrid and Barcelona before. It goes beyond the sport and to lose again just allows doubt and haters to poison a season that hasn't begun yet.
“Karim.”
His eyes jerk open and he sees no one but Aitor standing in the locker room.
“If you want to keep your spot on the pitch, I suggest you get up.”
“Sorry,” Karim apologizes hastily. “I just...”
Softening, Aitor gives him half a smile. I know but let's go and win this.”
Karim nods and follows him out to the tunnel.
**
The weeks between legs is horrible and the media is impossible to avoid. Good press. Bad press. All of it.
On the way to Barcelona, Karim dons his huge-world-blocking headphones and shut off his mind for the duration of the flight.
When they arrrive, there is a buzz to the city that the players cannot miss or deny. But they remain professional and tune out everything except what needs to be done in the match.
The match itself is more of the same from the first leg, too many missed opportunities and too many silly mistakes they cannot afford to do with a team like Barça. Cristiano breaks through eventually but they fall into Barcelona's rhythm and it looks bleak.
When Karim scores with the clock winding down, he feels less tired and with more bounce in his boots. He can do this. They can do this.
But then it all goes south from there and despite everything that happens, Real Madrid are defeated at Camp Nou once again.
Karim suddenly doesn't feel so sure about this season anymore.
**
There's a shit storm in Madrid and everywhere else in Spain that lasts for days. Training resumes and is the only time things are relatively normal. Otherwise, the players that have been at the club for a while are tense. It's not something that can be denied.
But others like Karim just stay quiet and continue to work hard. It's not a competition to win in the press after all. So he trains and listens to the manager as they all do.
**
Aitor waves over Karim as he steps onto the bus that will take them to el Santiago Bernabeu for El trofeo. He walks towards him and nods when he sees Jose seated there as well.
“We just wanted to congratulate you for your hard work during the Supercopa. With all the shit that happened we never got to. You're doing great, Karim.”
He nods, smiling. Aitor nods back and they share a moment before Karim leaves towards the back of bus and takes a seat next to Cristiano.
“Benzema! Warm up!”
It's early in the match but they cannot lose, not the trofeo. So Karim gets up and begins to stretch though he doesn't go in until the start of the second half.
It may have taken him a while to get comfortable with the language, the people and traditions, hell even the football but the Bernabeu... The moment he had stepped onto the pitch for the first time, he knew he belongs here, in Madrid with the crown above his heart.
It's an easy finish after a scramble in the box but Karim breaks out in a smile regardless as his teammates hug him and pat his head. He hustles back to the center line and glances over to the bench where Jose claps at him but it's Aitor who catches his attention with his open and easy smile as he throws a thumbs up to him.
**
It's Karim who approaches him first. He shows up to Aitor's office the day before the are to leave for Zaragoza. Of course he is welcomed in and told to take a seat and Karim does so while fidgeting his fingers.
“So?” Aitor only says it to break th silence that has fallen over them. “What do you want to talk about, Karim?”
“I don't know.” And it's the truth. He drops his gaze to his hands, to his short and bitten nails. So he deters to something else that has been chewing away at him. “I guess I am just nervous about the match.”
Aitor leans forward, his hands clasped together and resting on his desk. A smile forms on his lips. “You have no reason to be nervous. You've been great.”
“Preseason is hardly an indicator.”
“No, I think it is. Sure, none of those teams are Barcelona but when we did play against them, you were good, found your feet. If you work just as hard in the season as you did in the preseason then I have no doubts that you will achieve great things.”
Karim laughs though his cheeks colour lightly. “I've been hearing that all my career. I just hope we can finally be successful this season and that I will help.
There's a knock to the door before Aitor can reply to Karim so he answers to whoever is at the door instead. It's Jose and he looks surprised to see Karim there.
Aitor's attention shifts so Karim bids them both a good day before quietly leaving.
Just as he pulls out of the parking spot, Karim stops the car as he sees Aitor walk towards him. He rolls the window down and the older man makes his way to him. He crouches and leans in through the window.
“Some people say Cristiano is arrogant but I think it's confidence. He believes in himself when no one else does. Use that. Be confident, Karim.”
Aitor's eyes stare right into his as he leans further and it is then Karim trusts himself.
There are no fireworks, no dramatic spark when Karim presses his lips to Aitor's but he knows he doesn't want it to end just yet. He can feel the day old stubble on Aitor's chin and his lips aren't as soft but he doesn't think about it any deeper than that.
Aitor presses his tongue against his lips and Karim lets him in without thought. But then it ends and Karim's eyes whip open though he isn't sure when he closed them.
“I...” is all Aitor manages before he shakes his head and backs away from the car though he does offer a weak smile before leaving.
**
It's time to get onto the pitch; the players are preparing to head to the tunnel. Karim pulls the laces on his boots tighter before fixing his socks for the last time before joining the rest of his team. He passes Aitor and thought they do not exchange words, Karim swears he feels a soft brush of a hand against his back.
He only lets himself think about it until his boots touch the pitch.
Frustrated. It's the only word to explain how he feels right now. He has had a handful of opportunities to score, a few easy tap-ins but nothing. The pressure is building in his body, in his shoulders and neck and he's slowly beginning to lose his patience with himself.
Goals are coming anyhow and he knows he should be focusing on the team but he really had hoped to score in the season opener, to start off positively. Things are going well in the match; great connections with Cristiano and Mesut but he remains goaless when he is replaced by Gonzalo. Jose, however, is pleased with him so Karim tries not to beat himself up over it too much.
He takes the first open seat on the bench and grunts in response to the praise his teammates give him as he loosens his boots.
“Not Cristiano like confidence exactly but it's an improvement.”
Karim looks up and sees Aitor smiling at him, his eyes kind. He can't help but smile back.
“Thanks.”
**
He gets a voice message on his phone from Jose when he scores against Bulgaria. He can't deny that he is disappointed it isn't Aitor.
**
Training with the club is much different than with the national team. Both teams have a different kind of unity and pressure. Real Madrid needs to maintain their status as one of the best clubs in the world and France needs to repair the damage that may plague the nation forever. Two different families but both just as important to Karim.
He works with Cristiano and Gonzalo and he decides they are easier to work with than his French teammates however, despite the language issue. The flow is easier and he finds that he just connects with his club mates better.
Maybe confidence does have something to do with it after all.
**
The season continues and Karim has 7 goals in 9 matches. He's smiling and happy. He even lets Cristiano pop the collars of his shirts before the matches (though he fixes them before leaving the tunnel). He's feeling great and knows others are noticing as well.
They haven't spoken about the kiss in the parking garage. Or the one in Aitor's office. Nor the one in the locker room in Malaga. Karim doesn't know what he is doing, what they are doing but if Aitor hasn't questioned it then he won't either. It's never gone beyond a few kisses anyway.
The season is going well and neither man can see a reason to destroy it.
**
“No, you idiot! That was just last week!”
No one is paying attention to the match anymore, well not the players on the bench anyway. Madrid it thrashing Real Sociedad 5-0 and Alvaro and Raul have just started their comedy hour. Even some of the training staff have turned over their attention in curiousity.
Karim is half listening to the two jokers and half keeping his eye on the match. He scored a goal earlier and set up two, one for Cristiano and one for Mesut. The match has been theirs since the initial whistle.
A hand settles on Karim's knee gently and he already knows who it is before turning his head. But what surprises him is that Aitor doesn't say anything for minutes and just leaves with a light squeeze soon after.
**
The sun is warm but not as strong as it is in the summer time. Training before the match with Osasuna ends and karim gets a message on his phone from his sister saying the family has decided to fly in that night for the match the next day. There is no denying he misses his family greatly.
Later that night after consuming enough food for his mother's liking and catching up with his sisters, Karim's father tells him he has never seen him play as well as he is now.
After each one of his two goals scored against Osasuna, Karim looks up to where his family are seated and raises a hand in recognition in their direction.
The Bernabeu is lit with cheers and chants. This is what confidence feels like.
**
The choices a man makes can either make him or break him. It's a well known fact. Some decisions require more thought than others, some subconscious, some not.
When Aitor has his hand wrapped around him, Karim isn't too sure when this choice was made and how exactly, but now that he is here, in Aitor's office, their lips on each other, his cock slowly being stroked, Karim is sure he wants this.
They still haven't spoken about what they have been doing exactly but sometimes words complicate rather than simplify. Aitor is the trainer, Karim the footballer. They know their roles but this in no way effects it.
Confidence has Karim trusting himself moer than he ever has before.
Instead of being passive as he has been thus far, Karim charges ahead. He sneaks his hand into Aitor's pants and swallows the question he knows the older man will ask. Yes, he is sure, for now anyway.
They somehow end up on the desk, Aitor on his back, Karim half on top, their lips and hands still on each other. Karim is close so he strokes Aitor a little fast, rewarded with the sound of a hitched breath.
When it happens, Karim climaxes first, too young and exuberant to hold off any longer but Aitor isn't far behind him. He collapses on top of him properly now, his breath more than a little shaky.
Aitor places a light-barely-there kiss to Karim's head.
**
It's half time and they are down 1-0 in the Mestalla. As a team, Real Madrid aren't playing poorly but Karim is. For 45 minutes he has been non-existent on the pitch, touched the ball all but three times. It's not that his legs feel heavy or his body isn't cooperating. He just can't seem to get his head into the match.
“Tell me.”
Jose is staring down at him, his face the perfect picture of displeasure.
“Sorry, mister.”
Jose sighs. “You fix whatever the hell is wrong with you or I'll put someone in who wants to play.”
Karim watches his back as he walks away, yelling for everyone to hurry up.
“Don't let it slip now, Karim,” Aitor slides onto the bench next to him. “Cristiano needs some help out there and we can't fall three points behind.”
Karim just nods before getting up and heading to the tunnel.
**
He's taken off in the 79th minute after supplying Angel with a beautiful goal. Jose pats his shoulder and tells him he can do better when he walks over to the bench.
Mesut feeds Gonzalo two minutes later and they end up winning the match. Cheers sound all around the team's camp for maintaining a perfect season thus far.
It's the first time in Karim's career he tells himself he's better than this and believes it.
**
The season continues and it's mostly smooth sailing except for the two draws the media treats like crushing defeats; one in Champions League and the other against Sporting, which adds fuel to the fire for el clasico which is the following week. However, Madrid come out of that one victorious in their home. When La Liga stops for the holidays, Karim has 14 goals in 19 matches.
The club celebrates his 24th birthday as they usually do, with a cake, photos ad an interview for the website. The boys do a bit better and a throw a party at Cristiano's once the league pauses.
He still stumbles from time to time but he's finally arrived, as has his confidence. Karim's comfortable with the Spanish heat and everything that comes with it. Everything.
pairing: aitor karanka/karim benzema
rating: r/nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
a/n: this is mainly based on karim and starts in summer of 2011 and accounts for the events up to the first league match of this season. after that, all details on the matches are fiction as well. though it follows karim, there is slash thrown in for good measure and other members of the club as well. yay madrid!
for this prompt table
written for the only girl who can make me write on vacation :) ♥
After a year, Karim thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's finally used to the Spanish air and heat. It doesn't prick at his skin anymore, doesn't burn his hairless skull. He's come to appreciate it, to love the feeling of the warm glow that greets him each morning though the window. It's been two years but he finally thinks he's at home.
**
“Karim, come here!”
Knowing not to disobey Jose under any circumstances, he gets up from where he is sitting on the pitch, listening to Cristiano and Pepe get into their daily banter and hustles over to where Jose and Aitor are standing with their arms folded.
“Yes, mister?”
“I'm glad you didn't lose track this summer,” Jose says getting right into it. His voice is tinted with amusement. “Keep it up and you'll be rewarded.” He pats Karim on the shoulder, smiling because the younger man is.
“Thank you. I feel better for this season.”
“I know and if we can't make you and Pipa work together then you'll need to show me why you are better,” Jose pauses, his lips still curled in a smile. “If you are.”
He leaves Karim with one last pat to his head.
“That's Mou for you.”
Karim looks at Aitor who wears a look of amusement on his face.
“Praise and doubt all in the same breath.” Aitor shakes his head. “You really have improved, Karim. You have this... new hunger in you.”
Karim laughs as he rubs the back of his neck. “I just want to play.”
Coming in close, Aitor claps him on the shoulder. “I know and so does el mister.” He cuts off the distance between them, his voice dropping. “Zidane is here for a reason. We all know what you are capable of.”
Karim looks at him and sees the sincerity and hope Aitor carries in his eyes. It catches him off guard. “Thank you.” And really that's all he can say.
**
They go to America and Karim feels like his legs and feet are finally in sync with his brain. He doesn't put too much weight on the number of goals he scores because it's preseason and against teamsthat are no where near the level of those they will face this coming season. But he feels better and that's something no one could take away from him.
So he focuses on the positives; goals and interacting with the team. Learning Spanish has been harder than he imagined when he first signed from Lyon but everyone is still helping him in one way or another. Karim has let his guard down a few inches and he can't help but think that's translated to his play on the pitch.
**
“Karim, you seem to like kids. Can I sign you up to take care of Cristiano Junior?”
He kicks the ball in the direction of the laughing man, though Karim smirks as well.
“Well, someone needs to teach him how to be a man, no?”
And Cristiano launches the ball back at him. Hard. Luckily Karim is ready for it and ducks his head, laughing when he looks up again.
China is a good time. Everyone seems to be relaxed and not looking ahead to the Spanish Supercup just yet. Karim feels comfortable on th pitch with Cristiano and Mesut and he knows Jose sees it as well.
**
When they arrive back in Madrid, the city's eyes are on the Supercup and nothing else. Jose and Aitor give nothing away to the press but in training, each and every member of the team works twice as hard.
Near the end of the last training session before the first leg of the final Aitor pulls Karim to the side.
“El mister wants to know how you feel.”
Karim looks up to the sky, cloudless and bright. “Like I can start.” His eyes turn to Aitor so he can see how serious the Frenchman is.
Aitor breaks out in a smile. “That's what we want to hear.” He pats he cheek. “Finish your stretches then go shower.”
The look Karim gives him before he nods his head and walks off puzzles Aitor but he doesn't think anything about it. Or at least tries not to.
**
He can hear Jose talking, can even decipher what he is saying but Karim closes his eyes and focuses on what he needs to do. At this moment in the match, Madrid is the better team but that doesn't reflect on the scoreboard.
Every club had their rivalries; it's apart of football but Karim has never experienced one quite like Real Madrid and Barcelona before. It goes beyond the sport and to lose again just allows doubt and haters to poison a season that hasn't begun yet.
“Karim.”
His eyes jerk open and he sees no one but Aitor standing in the locker room.
“If you want to keep your spot on the pitch, I suggest you get up.”
“Sorry,” Karim apologizes hastily. “I just...”
Softening, Aitor gives him half a smile. I know but let's go and win this.”
Karim nods and follows him out to the tunnel.
**
The weeks between legs is horrible and the media is impossible to avoid. Good press. Bad press. All of it.
On the way to Barcelona, Karim dons his huge-world-blocking headphones and shut off his mind for the duration of the flight.
When they arrrive, there is a buzz to the city that the players cannot miss or deny. But they remain professional and tune out everything except what needs to be done in the match.
The match itself is more of the same from the first leg, too many missed opportunities and too many silly mistakes they cannot afford to do with a team like Barça. Cristiano breaks through eventually but they fall into Barcelona's rhythm and it looks bleak.
When Karim scores with the clock winding down, he feels less tired and with more bounce in his boots. He can do this. They can do this.
But then it all goes south from there and despite everything that happens, Real Madrid are defeated at Camp Nou once again.
Karim suddenly doesn't feel so sure about this season anymore.
**
There's a shit storm in Madrid and everywhere else in Spain that lasts for days. Training resumes and is the only time things are relatively normal. Otherwise, the players that have been at the club for a while are tense. It's not something that can be denied.
But others like Karim just stay quiet and continue to work hard. It's not a competition to win in the press after all. So he trains and listens to the manager as they all do.
**
Aitor waves over Karim as he steps onto the bus that will take them to el Santiago Bernabeu for El trofeo. He walks towards him and nods when he sees Jose seated there as well.
“We just wanted to congratulate you for your hard work during the Supercopa. With all the shit that happened we never got to. You're doing great, Karim.”
He nods, smiling. Aitor nods back and they share a moment before Karim leaves towards the back of bus and takes a seat next to Cristiano.
“Benzema! Warm up!”
It's early in the match but they cannot lose, not the trofeo. So Karim gets up and begins to stretch though he doesn't go in until the start of the second half.
It may have taken him a while to get comfortable with the language, the people and traditions, hell even the football but the Bernabeu... The moment he had stepped onto the pitch for the first time, he knew he belongs here, in Madrid with the crown above his heart.
It's an easy finish after a scramble in the box but Karim breaks out in a smile regardless as his teammates hug him and pat his head. He hustles back to the center line and glances over to the bench where Jose claps at him but it's Aitor who catches his attention with his open and easy smile as he throws a thumbs up to him.
**
It's Karim who approaches him first. He shows up to Aitor's office the day before the are to leave for Zaragoza. Of course he is welcomed in and told to take a seat and Karim does so while fidgeting his fingers.
“So?” Aitor only says it to break th silence that has fallen over them. “What do you want to talk about, Karim?”
“I don't know.” And it's the truth. He drops his gaze to his hands, to his short and bitten nails. So he deters to something else that has been chewing away at him. “I guess I am just nervous about the match.”
Aitor leans forward, his hands clasped together and resting on his desk. A smile forms on his lips. “You have no reason to be nervous. You've been great.”
“Preseason is hardly an indicator.”
“No, I think it is. Sure, none of those teams are Barcelona but when we did play against them, you were good, found your feet. If you work just as hard in the season as you did in the preseason then I have no doubts that you will achieve great things.”
Karim laughs though his cheeks colour lightly. “I've been hearing that all my career. I just hope we can finally be successful this season and that I will help.
There's a knock to the door before Aitor can reply to Karim so he answers to whoever is at the door instead. It's Jose and he looks surprised to see Karim there.
Aitor's attention shifts so Karim bids them both a good day before quietly leaving.
Just as he pulls out of the parking spot, Karim stops the car as he sees Aitor walk towards him. He rolls the window down and the older man makes his way to him. He crouches and leans in through the window.
“Some people say Cristiano is arrogant but I think it's confidence. He believes in himself when no one else does. Use that. Be confident, Karim.”
Aitor's eyes stare right into his as he leans further and it is then Karim trusts himself.
There are no fireworks, no dramatic spark when Karim presses his lips to Aitor's but he knows he doesn't want it to end just yet. He can feel the day old stubble on Aitor's chin and his lips aren't as soft but he doesn't think about it any deeper than that.
Aitor presses his tongue against his lips and Karim lets him in without thought. But then it ends and Karim's eyes whip open though he isn't sure when he closed them.
“I...” is all Aitor manages before he shakes his head and backs away from the car though he does offer a weak smile before leaving.
**
It's time to get onto the pitch; the players are preparing to head to the tunnel. Karim pulls the laces on his boots tighter before fixing his socks for the last time before joining the rest of his team. He passes Aitor and thought they do not exchange words, Karim swears he feels a soft brush of a hand against his back.
He only lets himself think about it until his boots touch the pitch.
Frustrated. It's the only word to explain how he feels right now. He has had a handful of opportunities to score, a few easy tap-ins but nothing. The pressure is building in his body, in his shoulders and neck and he's slowly beginning to lose his patience with himself.
Goals are coming anyhow and he knows he should be focusing on the team but he really had hoped to score in the season opener, to start off positively. Things are going well in the match; great connections with Cristiano and Mesut but he remains goaless when he is replaced by Gonzalo. Jose, however, is pleased with him so Karim tries not to beat himself up over it too much.
He takes the first open seat on the bench and grunts in response to the praise his teammates give him as he loosens his boots.
“Not Cristiano like confidence exactly but it's an improvement.”
Karim looks up and sees Aitor smiling at him, his eyes kind. He can't help but smile back.
“Thanks.”
**
He gets a voice message on his phone from Jose when he scores against Bulgaria. He can't deny that he is disappointed it isn't Aitor.
**
Training with the club is much different than with the national team. Both teams have a different kind of unity and pressure. Real Madrid needs to maintain their status as one of the best clubs in the world and France needs to repair the damage that may plague the nation forever. Two different families but both just as important to Karim.
He works with Cristiano and Gonzalo and he decides they are easier to work with than his French teammates however, despite the language issue. The flow is easier and he finds that he just connects with his club mates better.
Maybe confidence does have something to do with it after all.
**
The season continues and Karim has 7 goals in 9 matches. He's smiling and happy. He even lets Cristiano pop the collars of his shirts before the matches (though he fixes them before leaving the tunnel). He's feeling great and knows others are noticing as well.
They haven't spoken about the kiss in the parking garage. Or the one in Aitor's office. Nor the one in the locker room in Malaga. Karim doesn't know what he is doing, what they are doing but if Aitor hasn't questioned it then he won't either. It's never gone beyond a few kisses anyway.
The season is going well and neither man can see a reason to destroy it.
**
“No, you idiot! That was just last week!”
No one is paying attention to the match anymore, well not the players on the bench anyway. Madrid it thrashing Real Sociedad 5-0 and Alvaro and Raul have just started their comedy hour. Even some of the training staff have turned over their attention in curiousity.
Karim is half listening to the two jokers and half keeping his eye on the match. He scored a goal earlier and set up two, one for Cristiano and one for Mesut. The match has been theirs since the initial whistle.
A hand settles on Karim's knee gently and he already knows who it is before turning his head. But what surprises him is that Aitor doesn't say anything for minutes and just leaves with a light squeeze soon after.
**
The sun is warm but not as strong as it is in the summer time. Training before the match with Osasuna ends and karim gets a message on his phone from his sister saying the family has decided to fly in that night for the match the next day. There is no denying he misses his family greatly.
Later that night after consuming enough food for his mother's liking and catching up with his sisters, Karim's father tells him he has never seen him play as well as he is now.
After each one of his two goals scored against Osasuna, Karim looks up to where his family are seated and raises a hand in recognition in their direction.
The Bernabeu is lit with cheers and chants. This is what confidence feels like.
**
The choices a man makes can either make him or break him. It's a well known fact. Some decisions require more thought than others, some subconscious, some not.
When Aitor has his hand wrapped around him, Karim isn't too sure when this choice was made and how exactly, but now that he is here, in Aitor's office, their lips on each other, his cock slowly being stroked, Karim is sure he wants this.
They still haven't spoken about what they have been doing exactly but sometimes words complicate rather than simplify. Aitor is the trainer, Karim the footballer. They know their roles but this in no way effects it.
Confidence has Karim trusting himself moer than he ever has before.
Instead of being passive as he has been thus far, Karim charges ahead. He sneaks his hand into Aitor's pants and swallows the question he knows the older man will ask. Yes, he is sure, for now anyway.
They somehow end up on the desk, Aitor on his back, Karim half on top, their lips and hands still on each other. Karim is close so he strokes Aitor a little fast, rewarded with the sound of a hitched breath.
When it happens, Karim climaxes first, too young and exuberant to hold off any longer but Aitor isn't far behind him. He collapses on top of him properly now, his breath more than a little shaky.
Aitor places a light-barely-there kiss to Karim's head.
**
It's half time and they are down 1-0 in the Mestalla. As a team, Real Madrid aren't playing poorly but Karim is. For 45 minutes he has been non-existent on the pitch, touched the ball all but three times. It's not that his legs feel heavy or his body isn't cooperating. He just can't seem to get his head into the match.
“Tell me.”
Jose is staring down at him, his face the perfect picture of displeasure.
“Sorry, mister.”
Jose sighs. “You fix whatever the hell is wrong with you or I'll put someone in who wants to play.”
Karim watches his back as he walks away, yelling for everyone to hurry up.
“Don't let it slip now, Karim,” Aitor slides onto the bench next to him. “Cristiano needs some help out there and we can't fall three points behind.”
Karim just nods before getting up and heading to the tunnel.
**
He's taken off in the 79th minute after supplying Angel with a beautiful goal. Jose pats his shoulder and tells him he can do better when he walks over to the bench.
Mesut feeds Gonzalo two minutes later and they end up winning the match. Cheers sound all around the team's camp for maintaining a perfect season thus far.
It's the first time in Karim's career he tells himself he's better than this and believes it.
**
The season continues and it's mostly smooth sailing except for the two draws the media treats like crushing defeats; one in Champions League and the other against Sporting, which adds fuel to the fire for el clasico which is the following week. However, Madrid come out of that one victorious in their home. When La Liga stops for the holidays, Karim has 14 goals in 19 matches.
The club celebrates his 24th birthday as they usually do, with a cake, photos ad an interview for the website. The boys do a bit better and a throw a party at Cristiano's once the league pauses.
He still stumbles from time to time but he's finally arrived, as has his confidence. Karim's comfortable with the Spanish heat and everything that comes with it. Everything.