the end of the day
title the end of the day
word count 1,297
summary celebrating fernando's return to form
pairing sergio ramos/fernando torres
rating nc-17
prompt 023. lovers
this is for go_for_it_kid, because even though you didn't ask for two sernando's, i wrote two. call it a two for one? jaja. and for sunlight_dust, because the world cup is now some type of religious holiday, complete with much gift giving.
and because who couldn't use more of this?
---
The bus to the stadium feels long. Longer than twenty minutes, longer than twenty hours. Fernando curls up in the row of seats in the back and puts his headphones on, tapping his fingers against his knees. After a few minutes, Xabi comes and sits next to him, casually knocking Fernando’s hand off of his lap.
“Don’t be nervous,” the Basque says quietly. Fernando tugged his headphones down.
“I’m not nervous,” he replies, too quickly. “Who says I’m nervous?”
Xabi arches an eyebrow, and Fernando concedes defeat. “You’ll be fine. Nobody expects you to go out and score a hat trick in your first match back.”
Fernando shrugs and slides his headphones back on. He forgets how much he misses Xabi, sometimes.
---
After the match, Xabi gives him a knowing glance -not smug, just knowing. Fernando nods to him from across the locker room, and that’s enough for Xabi. Fernando is grateful, because Sergio is currently taking up all of his attention, has been from the moment he stepped on the pitch. Fernando can still feel the ghost of the Sevillan’s arms around him in celebration, holding him tight, believing in him in a way that somehow means more than Xabi’s calm words and knowing glances.
“Hey, come to mine later?”
Fernando’s head snaps up and he sees Sergio, leaning against his locker. The defender’s hair is wet and dripping onto his shoulders, and he hasn’t put a shirt on yet.
“Sure, why?” The reason doesn’t matter, they both know- Fernando can never say no to Sergio.
“We have to celebrate!” Sergio exclaims, and his cheerful tone of voice belays the way his pupils are blown, darkening his eyes with lust. Fernando swallows hard.
---
Fernando raps lightly on the door, shifting uneasily from foot to foot and hoping nobody else is wandering around the hotel. After a moment, he hears the deadbolt being pulled back and the door swings open to reveal Sergio, wearing a shirt, now, but no less attractive than before. “Hey,” Fernando says softly.
Sergio grins and reaches forward, looping his fingers gently around Fernando’s wrist and tugging him into the room. Fernando reaches behind himself, groping for the doorknob and eventually pulling it shut. He turns back to Sergio, who has released his wrist but is still standing close, his lips turning up into a grin that sends shivers down Fernando’s spine. Sergio steps forward, crowding Fernando, and his hands slip up Fernando’s arms to cradle his skull. Their torsos press together and Fernando’s tongue snakes out to lick his lips. In the space of a heartbeat, Sergio’s lips are pressed to his.
It is warm and soft and unhurried, so at odds with the look Sergio had given him in the locker room. It feels like home, and Fernando sinks into it, pressing closer. Sergio pushes his tongue into Fernando’s mouth and then pulls back just as quickly. Fernando doesn’t bother to stifle the little gasp that slips out of him, doesn’t need to with Sergio, who takes his hand again and laces their fingers together and pulls Fernando away from the door and into the room. The shades are already drawn and Iker is nowhere to be seen, for which Fernando is immensely grateful. Sergio’s hands bring Fernando back to the present, tugging on the hem of his sweatshirt until Fernando lifts his arms and lets the defender pull it off. Fernando cuts to the chase and shimmies out of his sweatpants, too, and reaches impatiently for the button on Sergio’s jeans, tugging until their clothes are all out of the way.
Sergio turns them and pushes on Fernando’s chest until Fernando’s lying on the bed, then heaves himself on top of the striker. Fernando runs his hands up and down Sergio’s back, feeling the heavy muscles ripple under his skin, warm to the touch. Sergio rolls his hips down and Fernando lets out a heavy puff of breath. Sergio curls back up a little, giving him space to lean down and suck at Fernando’s neck, tonguing his pulse point.
Fernando lets his legs fall open, making room for Sergio to settle between them. Sergio does, letting his lips slide over Fernando’s collarbone. He pauses to leave a mark, and then skids further down Fernando’s body, stopping briefly over his belly to press open mouthed kisses to the quivering muscles and then continues south, moving to settle his body over Fernando’s thighs.
Fernando hisses, lifting his hips involuntarily as Sergio’s breath comes out in hot puffs over his cock. Sergio braces his hands on Fernando’s hips, keeping him in place as he brings his lips down to mouth at Fernando’s cock, sucking along his shaft and flicking his tongue over the head.
As Fernando groans and fists his hands in the sheets of the still-made bed, Sergio reverses his path and licks his way back up Fernando’s body. Fernando reaches down for Sergio, pulling him up by the shoulders for a rough kiss, full of tongue and too much teeth, but exactly what he needs.
Sergio settles on top of him and they make out lazily for a few long moments, until Fernando feels one of Sergio’s hands leave his body and snake out to the bedside table. As if he can hear Fernando over thinking (during training camp, right before the World Cup, what about training tomorrow), Sergio swoops down and kisses Fernando again, hard and thorough. When he feels Sergio’s finger, slick with lube, prodding at his entrance, he doesn’t return to his thoughts, just looks up at Sergio, eyes wide. “I love you,” Sergio mumbles, working him open and leaning down to bury his face in Fernando’s neck. “I love you and you were amazing today and you will be amazing for this whole tournament and I am so fucking proud of you, Nando.” His fingers slip out of Fernando and he shifts to slot their bodies together, lining up, molding against each other.
Fernando reaches for Sergio’s hand and he twines their fingers together, bringing the Sevillan’s wrist to his mouth. He tongues and sucks at Sergio’s pulse and he feels Sergio push into him, slow and steady, filling him. Fernando bites down gently and Sergio throbs inside him, snapping his hips up suddenly to get deeper, and Fernando cries out, the sound muffled by Sergio’s wrist.
Sergio cants his hips and slides in deeper, changing the angle of his thrusts, and Fernando spreads his legs wider, arching up for more. Their movements are uneven. Sergio’s thrusts rattle the bed, and Fernando brings their entwined hands down to his cock. Sergio sets the pace, slower than that of his thrusts, and covers Fernando’s hand as the striker strokes himself.
Close, Fernando shifts his hips back against Sergio, squeezing his muscles around Sergio’s cock as Sergio finally, finally speeds up the pace of his hand working Fernando’s cock, and it only takes a few strokes before Fernando’s coming, clinging to Sergio’s shoulder and going boneless against the bed. Sergio pounds into him a few more times before he follows, and collapses against Fernando’s pale, sweaty body.
After a while, Sergio gets up and comes back a moment later with a damp cloth. Fernando is vaguely aware of the defender cleaning him off and then settling back down on the bed, pulling the blankets up around them.
“Hey,” Sergio mumbles.
“Hey,” Fernando replies, turning to the Sevillan and smiling.
“Stay tonight? Iker said he’d go to yours,” Sergio asks, and they both know it isn’t a question, not really.
Fernando replies by snuggling down and pulling Sergio’s arm over his shoulders as a blanket. “I love you too,” he says. Sergio pushes a pillow under Fernando’s head and drops a kiss onto his freckled shoulder.
“I know.”
word count 1,297
summary celebrating fernando's return to form
pairing sergio ramos/fernando torres
rating nc-17
prompt 023. lovers
this is for go_for_it_kid, because even though you didn't ask for two sernando's, i wrote two. call it a two for one? jaja. and for sunlight_dust, because the world cup is now some type of religious holiday, complete with much gift giving.
and because who couldn't use more of this?
---
The bus to the stadium feels long. Longer than twenty minutes, longer than twenty hours. Fernando curls up in the row of seats in the back and puts his headphones on, tapping his fingers against his knees. After a few minutes, Xabi comes and sits next to him, casually knocking Fernando’s hand off of his lap.
“Don’t be nervous,” the Basque says quietly. Fernando tugged his headphones down.
“I’m not nervous,” he replies, too quickly. “Who says I’m nervous?”
Xabi arches an eyebrow, and Fernando concedes defeat. “You’ll be fine. Nobody expects you to go out and score a hat trick in your first match back.”
Fernando shrugs and slides his headphones back on. He forgets how much he misses Xabi, sometimes.
---
After the match, Xabi gives him a knowing glance -not smug, just knowing. Fernando nods to him from across the locker room, and that’s enough for Xabi. Fernando is grateful, because Sergio is currently taking up all of his attention, has been from the moment he stepped on the pitch. Fernando can still feel the ghost of the Sevillan’s arms around him in celebration, holding him tight, believing in him in a way that somehow means more than Xabi’s calm words and knowing glances.
“Hey, come to mine later?”
Fernando’s head snaps up and he sees Sergio, leaning against his locker. The defender’s hair is wet and dripping onto his shoulders, and he hasn’t put a shirt on yet.
“Sure, why?” The reason doesn’t matter, they both know- Fernando can never say no to Sergio.
“We have to celebrate!” Sergio exclaims, and his cheerful tone of voice belays the way his pupils are blown, darkening his eyes with lust. Fernando swallows hard.
---
Fernando raps lightly on the door, shifting uneasily from foot to foot and hoping nobody else is wandering around the hotel. After a moment, he hears the deadbolt being pulled back and the door swings open to reveal Sergio, wearing a shirt, now, but no less attractive than before. “Hey,” Fernando says softly.
Sergio grins and reaches forward, looping his fingers gently around Fernando’s wrist and tugging him into the room. Fernando reaches behind himself, groping for the doorknob and eventually pulling it shut. He turns back to Sergio, who has released his wrist but is still standing close, his lips turning up into a grin that sends shivers down Fernando’s spine. Sergio steps forward, crowding Fernando, and his hands slip up Fernando’s arms to cradle his skull. Their torsos press together and Fernando’s tongue snakes out to lick his lips. In the space of a heartbeat, Sergio’s lips are pressed to his.
It is warm and soft and unhurried, so at odds with the look Sergio had given him in the locker room. It feels like home, and Fernando sinks into it, pressing closer. Sergio pushes his tongue into Fernando’s mouth and then pulls back just as quickly. Fernando doesn’t bother to stifle the little gasp that slips out of him, doesn’t need to with Sergio, who takes his hand again and laces their fingers together and pulls Fernando away from the door and into the room. The shades are already drawn and Iker is nowhere to be seen, for which Fernando is immensely grateful. Sergio’s hands bring Fernando back to the present, tugging on the hem of his sweatshirt until Fernando lifts his arms and lets the defender pull it off. Fernando cuts to the chase and shimmies out of his sweatpants, too, and reaches impatiently for the button on Sergio’s jeans, tugging until their clothes are all out of the way.
Sergio turns them and pushes on Fernando’s chest until Fernando’s lying on the bed, then heaves himself on top of the striker. Fernando runs his hands up and down Sergio’s back, feeling the heavy muscles ripple under his skin, warm to the touch. Sergio rolls his hips down and Fernando lets out a heavy puff of breath. Sergio curls back up a little, giving him space to lean down and suck at Fernando’s neck, tonguing his pulse point.
Fernando lets his legs fall open, making room for Sergio to settle between them. Sergio does, letting his lips slide over Fernando’s collarbone. He pauses to leave a mark, and then skids further down Fernando’s body, stopping briefly over his belly to press open mouthed kisses to the quivering muscles and then continues south, moving to settle his body over Fernando’s thighs.
Fernando hisses, lifting his hips involuntarily as Sergio’s breath comes out in hot puffs over his cock. Sergio braces his hands on Fernando’s hips, keeping him in place as he brings his lips down to mouth at Fernando’s cock, sucking along his shaft and flicking his tongue over the head.
As Fernando groans and fists his hands in the sheets of the still-made bed, Sergio reverses his path and licks his way back up Fernando’s body. Fernando reaches down for Sergio, pulling him up by the shoulders for a rough kiss, full of tongue and too much teeth, but exactly what he needs.
Sergio settles on top of him and they make out lazily for a few long moments, until Fernando feels one of Sergio’s hands leave his body and snake out to the bedside table. As if he can hear Fernando over thinking (during training camp, right before the World Cup, what about training tomorrow), Sergio swoops down and kisses Fernando again, hard and thorough. When he feels Sergio’s finger, slick with lube, prodding at his entrance, he doesn’t return to his thoughts, just looks up at Sergio, eyes wide. “I love you,” Sergio mumbles, working him open and leaning down to bury his face in Fernando’s neck. “I love you and you were amazing today and you will be amazing for this whole tournament and I am so fucking proud of you, Nando.” His fingers slip out of Fernando and he shifts to slot their bodies together, lining up, molding against each other.
Fernando reaches for Sergio’s hand and he twines their fingers together, bringing the Sevillan’s wrist to his mouth. He tongues and sucks at Sergio’s pulse and he feels Sergio push into him, slow and steady, filling him. Fernando bites down gently and Sergio throbs inside him, snapping his hips up suddenly to get deeper, and Fernando cries out, the sound muffled by Sergio’s wrist.
Sergio cants his hips and slides in deeper, changing the angle of his thrusts, and Fernando spreads his legs wider, arching up for more. Their movements are uneven. Sergio’s thrusts rattle the bed, and Fernando brings their entwined hands down to his cock. Sergio sets the pace, slower than that of his thrusts, and covers Fernando’s hand as the striker strokes himself.
Close, Fernando shifts his hips back against Sergio, squeezing his muscles around Sergio’s cock as Sergio finally, finally speeds up the pace of his hand working Fernando’s cock, and it only takes a few strokes before Fernando’s coming, clinging to Sergio’s shoulder and going boneless against the bed. Sergio pounds into him a few more times before he follows, and collapses against Fernando’s pale, sweaty body.
After a while, Sergio gets up and comes back a moment later with a damp cloth. Fernando is vaguely aware of the defender cleaning him off and then settling back down on the bed, pulling the blankets up around them.
“Hey,” Sergio mumbles.
“Hey,” Fernando replies, turning to the Sevillan and smiling.
“Stay tonight? Iker said he’d go to yours,” Sergio asks, and they both know it isn’t a question, not really.
Fernando replies by snuggling down and pulling Sergio’s arm over his shoulders as a blanket. “I love you too,” he says. Sergio pushes a pillow under Fernando’s head and drops a kiss onto his freckled shoulder.
“I know.”