A Silver Farthing | One Shot
Title: A Silver Farthing
Author: eternitybreaks@orton_fics
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sergio Ramos and Fernando Torres
Warning: No. Warning.
Disclaimer: Not true. All fake.
Archive: Yes. Beautiful Games.
Summary: The prompts 'meal' and 'gift'
For: tasteslikeboys@footballslash07 OTP fic exchange
Words: 2428
Notes: Just imagine the whole conversation between Sergio and Fernando in Spanish. This story is proof read by miomeinmio
The night was humid but pleasantly comfortable. The sounds of hushed talking, soft music, and cutlery against fine china made for a very formal night out. Fernando had worn his best suit. Despite being in the media constantly it was amazing how few suits he actually owned. Sitting at the back of the restaurant, he was mildly happy about the privacy it granted. The bar and the kitchen were on the other side of the room, so he and Sergio didn’t need to yell over dishes breaking and loud chatting between employees. Not that Restaurante La Dorada would allow their Spanish stars to be seated anywhere else but the best seats in the house. He looked at his expensive Rolex and sighed loudly, Sergio was late as usual. He had promised to be on time, but Fernando knew never to take Sergio’s promises at face value. The man was too erratic to take any of his words seriously. His watch steadily ticked past eight o’clock to ten past eight. He felt like he had been stood up by his date - which in all honesty he had. But a flurry of slicked back hair grabbed his attention. There talking to one of the waitresses, Fernando felt himself relax. He hadn’t been stood up. In all honesty, he didn’t think he could forgive Sergio if he had. He could see the woman nodding, and Sergio smiling that flirtatious smile. Fernando felt slightly ill as he watched them interact. Not that it was Sergio’s fault -- he was natural flirt and loved to seduce both men and women for the hell off it. Fernando should be used to it now. After all, that’s how Sergio got him.
After a few excruciating minutes, Sergio followed the waitress towards the back table, where he was seated. Fernando didn’t know if he should stand up to greet Sergio, or wait until he sat down. However, using his manners he stood up and smiled at Sergio holding out his hand for a shake. Sergio smirked, but grabbed his hand in a warm embrace and shook it slowly.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said letting go of Fernando’s hand and sitting down. Fernando followed suit and re-placed his napkin across his thighs.
“It’s okay. What kept you?”
The waitress had moved to the next table and Fernando breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want her near them as they awkwardly chatted. It was amazing. Alone and naked they were different people, but when clothed and around others they acted like they were forced to interact.
“If I tell you will, you even believe me?” asked Sergio picking up his wine glass, which was filled with cold water. Fernando’s first reaction was to lay into him, asking what the hell did that mean. But they weren’t at Fernando’s house or even Sergio’s, they were eating out. Where other people could actually hear them.
Picking up his own glass of water, Fernando took a sip, before placing it back down again. Sergio was looking at with an intense gaze, watching, goading. “I hope you got my text on the win,” said Fernando.
Sergio chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I did. Sorry I didn’t get back to you. We were a little bit busy.”
“I see.”
“You know, you don’t need to act fake happy about us winning the title.”
“Well thank God for that,” snapped Fernando. He wanted to be sportsmanlike, to say congratulations and that they deserved the win, but he couldn’t. It was like drinking toilet water and watching your grandmother have sex all rolled into one. Not pretty.
“At least you’re honest.”
“Thank God one of us is.”
Sergio shook his head, leaning back against the padded chair. “Am I going to have to put up my insult shield or what?” he said, smiling a little.
Fernando knew he was acting like a prick, but he couldn’t help it. It had been weeks since he had last seen Sergio. Even before Real won the title he had messaged and called his “fuck buddy” and he hadn’t received a call or message back. To say he was sore was an understatement. He didn’t even know why he agreed to the dinner. What, was he some loser bitch that came crawling back to Sergio whenever he called? He was beyond pathetic.
The waitress came over and Fernando sighed in relief. Sergio’s stare was getting a bit too much for him and he welcomed to the interruption. They both ordered lobster and chicken. They loved the same food, so it was pretty useless trying to steal from each other’s plate.
“Are you mad at me?” asked Sergio. What was Fernando to say? Yes, I am? Sergio’s team had just won La Liga; his team had fought to win the table for weeks. Athletico Madrid’s fate was sealed; they weren’t going to get any further than the middle of the table. So could he blame the younger man for putting his strength and attention towards winning? Was it fair to be upset? Was it fair to make Sergio feel guilty?
“I guess I’m just used to having you around,” said Fernando quietly. Sergio leaned forward, putting his hand on top of Fernando’s.
“I promise I’ll spend more time with you.”
Another promise. Those wide brown eyes and that intense look always made his promises feel more real. But it was a year later and Fernando knew the real deal. Sergio didn’t know how to make promises -- he knew how to have fun and play football.
“It’s fine. Let’s enjoy our night.”
------
Dinner had gone well enough. Fernando had felt himself relax under Sergio’s gaze and at the end of night he had felt happy and secure. They had come back to Fernando’s house, due to the fact Sergio’s family were still celebrating the win at his villa. As usual, the door closed and Sergio lunged at Fernando, pulling at his expensive suit jacket and latching his mouth onto his. The act was familiar, but it didn’t stop Fernando from feeling aroused and light headed. He allowed Sergio to pull at his clothes, moaning obscenities into his ear and dragging him up the stairs and down the hall, where his bedroom was situated. He allowed Sergio to pull of his shoes and socks, allowed him to tickle his feet lightly, before pulling away and mock glaring at the younger man. He allowed Sergio to pull down his trousers, not caring where he threw them. His jacket and shirt were long gone, discarded downstairs where the maid he hired would have to pick them up and pretend she didn’t know what Fernando had been up to the previous night.
Sergio’s licks and bites made Fernando bite his bottom lip. Despite doing the unthinkable with a man, he couldn’t allow himself to moan in his own house. Sergio, however, could care less. He humped fully clothed, moaned, and swore. Fernando liked that, liked that his body made Sergio horny, reckless, and hot.
“Maybe you should take your clothes off too?” Sergio raised his head, grinning, and nodded in agreement. Like with Fernando’s own clothes, Sergio ripped and pulled at his expensive suit until he was naked, leaving both of them in their boxers. Harsh breathing and flushed skin made Fernando feel open and vulnerable. He hated it when Sergio just watched him, his brown eyes heavy with lust and something else Fernando couldn’t put his finger on.
Their gaze broke, Sergio smirked, and it was back to playing their game. Pulling, teasing, moaning (on Sergio’s behalf) and a night filled with hot sex. Both being young men, they could come enough times in one night to impregnate half the women in Spain. Moaning loudly for the second time, Fernando came with as much power and shock as his first orgasm; Sergio pushed and thrust into Fernando’s asshole, trying to find his first release. Fernando, coming down from his high, lay stated and exhausted but did not help Sergio. He splayed his legs as wide as he could, allowing Sergio more room and tightness to push his hard cock into. Rocking his hips lightly, back and forth, Fernando lulled his body against Sergio’s straining one. He loved this part, the part where he laid and just let the hum of Sergio’s cock batter at his exposed body. It was almost whoreish, but in his mind, that was what got Fernando even more aroused. Watching his body shamelessly splayed for another man, watching his cock jut and leak in front of him, feeling his hole filled and wet, watching a man’s face contort between lust and pleasure -- it made Fernando’s orgasms that much more powerful. It was his secret pleasure. And he loved it.
“God, I’m coming!” moaned Sergio, his hips slapping harder and his arms slipping slightly. And with the dramatics of two hours of foreplay and fucking, Sergio came with the predicted howl and scream that Fernando was so used to. Sergio’s sweaty body landed not so softly on Fernando’s and Nando grunted, not happy about it.
“Condom,” he gasped. Sergio groaned and rolled off and up, grabbing the condom and pulling it down. Giving the filled latex a small knot he walked into the adjoining bathroom and threw it into the toilet, flushing the evidence away. Coming back into the room, he lay down next to Fernando, one arm behind his head and one across his stomach, starting at the ceiling.
No talking, and no words. Just them.
-----
Sergio went back to his life, and Fernando went back to his moping. He couldn’t help it. The fact that sleeping with another man was so easy for Sergio made him feel queasy and somewhat unsettled. Why was it so easy for him to get up and live his life, but do what they did also? Or was he just obsessed with the fact that Sergio could live a life like this and he himself was too weak or torn? Did he have to make a decision now? Did he have to choose between his life with Sergio, or the life he had always known?
-----
Fernando made his way down the beach, the night quiet and the breeze easy. The waves lulled quietly against the shore, and the flickering lights of the restaurants and bars seemed light, little stars in the horizon. He walked bare foot, the sand warm against his flesh. Sergio had called him to the beach an hour before, asking Fernando to meet him there. It had been a month since they last saw each other -- both had jetted off to different corners of the earth. Fernando had barely gotten in the door when his house phone rang. Sergio seemed quiet and distant when he spoke, and that was enough to coax a jet lagged man to the beach.
He could see a silhouette off in the distance, and as he walked closer, he could see Sergio, his head bent and arms wrapped around his legs.
“Hey?”
Fernando sat down next to Sergio, his arm brushing against the younger man’s. Sergio looked up and a smile ghosted across his lips.
“Hi.”
Feeling somewhat awkward, Fernando coughed, “So why did you call me? Is everything okay?” Fernando asked, wondering what was wrong.
“I was on holiday with my family. We were having a great time, you know? All these beautiful women were parading around in front of me, and my dad kept saying when I would get myself a girlfriend. You know, the usual dad things.”
Fernando nodded, understanding.
“And all I kept thinking was that I had this great person at home. Someone who knows me and cares about me. Heck, maybe even loves me. But the thing is, they won’t ever understand. They won’t ever understand that you’re the person I’d rather be with. And that hurts me. It hurts to know, that I can’t be with you.”
“Sergio…”
“No, Nando. Let me, okay. We keep doing what we’re doing, and I won’t be able to let go. Our life, is no longer ours, it’s theirs. All their’s. We’re just here, doing what we have to do.”
“We chose to do what we love,” Fernando said.
“Yeah, but we also lost something in the process too. I see how much it tears you up sometimes, and I don’t want to be the person who does that to you. We’re friends first and foremost.”
“So what?”
“You know what, Nando. We should just end this. I know you’ve wanted this to end for a long time already. And don’t say you never thought about it.”
“Fine, I won’t. But Sergio, it’s not that easy.”
“Sure it isn’t, but it’s got to end.”
Fernando looked at Sergio. The man looked so torn and lost, and for the first time Fernando realised that he wasn’t the only one in turmoil. Just because Sergio didn’t show how much their relationship worried him, didn’t mean it hadn’t affected him.
“I got you something,” said Sergio. He handed Fernando a white box, small and square. “I saw it at this antique shop, and remembered what you told me about it.” Fernando took the box, fingering the smooth cover.
“I got to go, my mum is having some relatives over. I’ll call you soon, okay?” Fernando nodded, and with a final smile Sergio walked away, his hands tucked in his long shorts and his head hanging low. Fernando watched Sergio, until he could no longer see him in the shadows.
Fernando opened the box and took out the small coin, a silver farthing, dusted with dirt and dust. He smiled as he looked at the coin, fingering the rough yet smooth metal. He remembered their conversation.
“So, tell me one of your sordid secrets,” demanded Sergio.
“Other than sleeping with you?” laughed Fernando.
“Come on, tell me something you did when you were younger.”
“I did a lot of things.”
“Fernando,” whined Sergio.
“Okay, fine. I collected coins.”
“Coins?”
“Yes. And if you laugh, I’ll beat your head in,” smirked Fernando. “My grandpa used to collect them, and I thought it was pretty cool, you know? Old money is a part of history too.”
“That sounds cool,” smiled Sergio.
“Thanks.”
“What for?”
“For not laughing.”
“Why would I laugh at something that means a lot to you?”
Standing up, Fernando placed the coin back into its box and started walking down the beach, letting his feet soak in the chilled ocean water and a smile tug at his lips.
Author: eternitybreaks@orton_fics
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sergio Ramos and Fernando Torres
Warning: No. Warning.
Disclaimer: Not true. All fake.
Archive: Yes. Beautiful Games.
Summary: The prompts 'meal' and 'gift'
For: tasteslikeboys@footballslash07 OTP fic exchange
Words: 2428
Notes: Just imagine the whole conversation between Sergio and Fernando in Spanish. This story is proof read by miomeinmio
The night was humid but pleasantly comfortable. The sounds of hushed talking, soft music, and cutlery against fine china made for a very formal night out. Fernando had worn his best suit. Despite being in the media constantly it was amazing how few suits he actually owned. Sitting at the back of the restaurant, he was mildly happy about the privacy it granted. The bar and the kitchen were on the other side of the room, so he and Sergio didn’t need to yell over dishes breaking and loud chatting between employees. Not that Restaurante La Dorada would allow their Spanish stars to be seated anywhere else but the best seats in the house. He looked at his expensive Rolex and sighed loudly, Sergio was late as usual. He had promised to be on time, but Fernando knew never to take Sergio’s promises at face value. The man was too erratic to take any of his words seriously. His watch steadily ticked past eight o’clock to ten past eight. He felt like he had been stood up by his date - which in all honesty he had. But a flurry of slicked back hair grabbed his attention. There talking to one of the waitresses, Fernando felt himself relax. He hadn’t been stood up. In all honesty, he didn’t think he could forgive Sergio if he had. He could see the woman nodding, and Sergio smiling that flirtatious smile. Fernando felt slightly ill as he watched them interact. Not that it was Sergio’s fault -- he was natural flirt and loved to seduce both men and women for the hell off it. Fernando should be used to it now. After all, that’s how Sergio got him.
After a few excruciating minutes, Sergio followed the waitress towards the back table, where he was seated. Fernando didn’t know if he should stand up to greet Sergio, or wait until he sat down. However, using his manners he stood up and smiled at Sergio holding out his hand for a shake. Sergio smirked, but grabbed his hand in a warm embrace and shook it slowly.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said letting go of Fernando’s hand and sitting down. Fernando followed suit and re-placed his napkin across his thighs.
“It’s okay. What kept you?”
The waitress had moved to the next table and Fernando breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want her near them as they awkwardly chatted. It was amazing. Alone and naked they were different people, but when clothed and around others they acted like they were forced to interact.
“If I tell you will, you even believe me?” asked Sergio picking up his wine glass, which was filled with cold water. Fernando’s first reaction was to lay into him, asking what the hell did that mean. But they weren’t at Fernando’s house or even Sergio’s, they were eating out. Where other people could actually hear them.
Picking up his own glass of water, Fernando took a sip, before placing it back down again. Sergio was looking at with an intense gaze, watching, goading. “I hope you got my text on the win,” said Fernando.
Sergio chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I did. Sorry I didn’t get back to you. We were a little bit busy.”
“I see.”
“You know, you don’t need to act fake happy about us winning the title.”
“Well thank God for that,” snapped Fernando. He wanted to be sportsmanlike, to say congratulations and that they deserved the win, but he couldn’t. It was like drinking toilet water and watching your grandmother have sex all rolled into one. Not pretty.
“At least you’re honest.”
“Thank God one of us is.”
Sergio shook his head, leaning back against the padded chair. “Am I going to have to put up my insult shield or what?” he said, smiling a little.
Fernando knew he was acting like a prick, but he couldn’t help it. It had been weeks since he had last seen Sergio. Even before Real won the title he had messaged and called his “fuck buddy” and he hadn’t received a call or message back. To say he was sore was an understatement. He didn’t even know why he agreed to the dinner. What, was he some loser bitch that came crawling back to Sergio whenever he called? He was beyond pathetic.
The waitress came over and Fernando sighed in relief. Sergio’s stare was getting a bit too much for him and he welcomed to the interruption. They both ordered lobster and chicken. They loved the same food, so it was pretty useless trying to steal from each other’s plate.
“Are you mad at me?” asked Sergio. What was Fernando to say? Yes, I am? Sergio’s team had just won La Liga; his team had fought to win the table for weeks. Athletico Madrid’s fate was sealed; they weren’t going to get any further than the middle of the table. So could he blame the younger man for putting his strength and attention towards winning? Was it fair to be upset? Was it fair to make Sergio feel guilty?
“I guess I’m just used to having you around,” said Fernando quietly. Sergio leaned forward, putting his hand on top of Fernando’s.
“I promise I’ll spend more time with you.”
Another promise. Those wide brown eyes and that intense look always made his promises feel more real. But it was a year later and Fernando knew the real deal. Sergio didn’t know how to make promises -- he knew how to have fun and play football.
“It’s fine. Let’s enjoy our night.”
------
Dinner had gone well enough. Fernando had felt himself relax under Sergio’s gaze and at the end of night he had felt happy and secure. They had come back to Fernando’s house, due to the fact Sergio’s family were still celebrating the win at his villa. As usual, the door closed and Sergio lunged at Fernando, pulling at his expensive suit jacket and latching his mouth onto his. The act was familiar, but it didn’t stop Fernando from feeling aroused and light headed. He allowed Sergio to pull at his clothes, moaning obscenities into his ear and dragging him up the stairs and down the hall, where his bedroom was situated. He allowed Sergio to pull of his shoes and socks, allowed him to tickle his feet lightly, before pulling away and mock glaring at the younger man. He allowed Sergio to pull down his trousers, not caring where he threw them. His jacket and shirt were long gone, discarded downstairs where the maid he hired would have to pick them up and pretend she didn’t know what Fernando had been up to the previous night.
Sergio’s licks and bites made Fernando bite his bottom lip. Despite doing the unthinkable with a man, he couldn’t allow himself to moan in his own house. Sergio, however, could care less. He humped fully clothed, moaned, and swore. Fernando liked that, liked that his body made Sergio horny, reckless, and hot.
“Maybe you should take your clothes off too?” Sergio raised his head, grinning, and nodded in agreement. Like with Fernando’s own clothes, Sergio ripped and pulled at his expensive suit until he was naked, leaving both of them in their boxers. Harsh breathing and flushed skin made Fernando feel open and vulnerable. He hated it when Sergio just watched him, his brown eyes heavy with lust and something else Fernando couldn’t put his finger on.
Their gaze broke, Sergio smirked, and it was back to playing their game. Pulling, teasing, moaning (on Sergio’s behalf) and a night filled with hot sex. Both being young men, they could come enough times in one night to impregnate half the women in Spain. Moaning loudly for the second time, Fernando came with as much power and shock as his first orgasm; Sergio pushed and thrust into Fernando’s asshole, trying to find his first release. Fernando, coming down from his high, lay stated and exhausted but did not help Sergio. He splayed his legs as wide as he could, allowing Sergio more room and tightness to push his hard cock into. Rocking his hips lightly, back and forth, Fernando lulled his body against Sergio’s straining one. He loved this part, the part where he laid and just let the hum of Sergio’s cock batter at his exposed body. It was almost whoreish, but in his mind, that was what got Fernando even more aroused. Watching his body shamelessly splayed for another man, watching his cock jut and leak in front of him, feeling his hole filled and wet, watching a man’s face contort between lust and pleasure -- it made Fernando’s orgasms that much more powerful. It was his secret pleasure. And he loved it.
“God, I’m coming!” moaned Sergio, his hips slapping harder and his arms slipping slightly. And with the dramatics of two hours of foreplay and fucking, Sergio came with the predicted howl and scream that Fernando was so used to. Sergio’s sweaty body landed not so softly on Fernando’s and Nando grunted, not happy about it.
“Condom,” he gasped. Sergio groaned and rolled off and up, grabbing the condom and pulling it down. Giving the filled latex a small knot he walked into the adjoining bathroom and threw it into the toilet, flushing the evidence away. Coming back into the room, he lay down next to Fernando, one arm behind his head and one across his stomach, starting at the ceiling.
No talking, and no words. Just them.
-----
Sergio went back to his life, and Fernando went back to his moping. He couldn’t help it. The fact that sleeping with another man was so easy for Sergio made him feel queasy and somewhat unsettled. Why was it so easy for him to get up and live his life, but do what they did also? Or was he just obsessed with the fact that Sergio could live a life like this and he himself was too weak or torn? Did he have to make a decision now? Did he have to choose between his life with Sergio, or the life he had always known?
-----
Fernando made his way down the beach, the night quiet and the breeze easy. The waves lulled quietly against the shore, and the flickering lights of the restaurants and bars seemed light, little stars in the horizon. He walked bare foot, the sand warm against his flesh. Sergio had called him to the beach an hour before, asking Fernando to meet him there. It had been a month since they last saw each other -- both had jetted off to different corners of the earth. Fernando had barely gotten in the door when his house phone rang. Sergio seemed quiet and distant when he spoke, and that was enough to coax a jet lagged man to the beach.
He could see a silhouette off in the distance, and as he walked closer, he could see Sergio, his head bent and arms wrapped around his legs.
“Hey?”
Fernando sat down next to Sergio, his arm brushing against the younger man’s. Sergio looked up and a smile ghosted across his lips.
“Hi.”
Feeling somewhat awkward, Fernando coughed, “So why did you call me? Is everything okay?” Fernando asked, wondering what was wrong.
“I was on holiday with my family. We were having a great time, you know? All these beautiful women were parading around in front of me, and my dad kept saying when I would get myself a girlfriend. You know, the usual dad things.”
Fernando nodded, understanding.
“And all I kept thinking was that I had this great person at home. Someone who knows me and cares about me. Heck, maybe even loves me. But the thing is, they won’t ever understand. They won’t ever understand that you’re the person I’d rather be with. And that hurts me. It hurts to know, that I can’t be with you.”
“Sergio…”
“No, Nando. Let me, okay. We keep doing what we’re doing, and I won’t be able to let go. Our life, is no longer ours, it’s theirs. All their’s. We’re just here, doing what we have to do.”
“We chose to do what we love,” Fernando said.
“Yeah, but we also lost something in the process too. I see how much it tears you up sometimes, and I don’t want to be the person who does that to you. We’re friends first and foremost.”
“So what?”
“You know what, Nando. We should just end this. I know you’ve wanted this to end for a long time already. And don’t say you never thought about it.”
“Fine, I won’t. But Sergio, it’s not that easy.”
“Sure it isn’t, but it’s got to end.”
Fernando looked at Sergio. The man looked so torn and lost, and for the first time Fernando realised that he wasn’t the only one in turmoil. Just because Sergio didn’t show how much their relationship worried him, didn’t mean it hadn’t affected him.
“I got you something,” said Sergio. He handed Fernando a white box, small and square. “I saw it at this antique shop, and remembered what you told me about it.” Fernando took the box, fingering the smooth cover.
“I got to go, my mum is having some relatives over. I’ll call you soon, okay?” Fernando nodded, and with a final smile Sergio walked away, his hands tucked in his long shorts and his head hanging low. Fernando watched Sergio, until he could no longer see him in the shadows.
Fernando opened the box and took out the small coin, a silver farthing, dusted with dirt and dust. He smiled as he looked at the coin, fingering the rough yet smooth metal. He remembered their conversation.
“So, tell me one of your sordid secrets,” demanded Sergio.
“Other than sleeping with you?” laughed Fernando.
“Come on, tell me something you did when you were younger.”
“I did a lot of things.”
“Fernando,” whined Sergio.
“Okay, fine. I collected coins.”
“Coins?”
“Yes. And if you laugh, I’ll beat your head in,” smirked Fernando. “My grandpa used to collect them, and I thought it was pretty cool, you know? Old money is a part of history too.”
“That sounds cool,” smiled Sergio.
“Thanks.”
“What for?”
“For not laughing.”
“Why would I laugh at something that means a lot to you?”
Standing up, Fernando placed the coin back into its box and started walking down the beach, letting his feet soak in the chilled ocean water and a smile tug at his lips.