Fic: Andrea Pirlo/Mesut Özil, R/NC-17
Title: Different
Pairing: Andrea Pirlo/Mesut Özil
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: no
Word Count: 678
Disclaimer: Don’t take it for anything other than it is. Pure fiction.
Summary: After the loss to Italy, Mesut suddenly finds himself in a new situation.
Notes: Written for a pic prompt on commentporn.
It wasn’t like him to do this. He prided himself for not being like his teammates, for not confusing the thrill and excitement of the game with an urgent need for a tryst in the locker rooms. It seemed so wrong to him; he never understood what drove others to seek such a thing, even when drunk with victory.
He did his best not to let his distaste show, but he thought his teammates knew. No one tried anything like that with him, that’s for sure. It was enough to see his expression when he walked into the locker room to find his teammates in various states of undress, panting and thrusting into the first available body, to realise that Mesut wasn’t the person to approach for such a thing.
But his teammates knew all that already. Andrea didn’t. He looked at Mesut intently, his lust so obviously reflected in his eyes that Mesut felt that he was blushing under his scrutiny.
He was still looking at him when the game was over and Mesut did his best not to look as crushed as he felt. But even through his disappointment, he felt Andrea’s eyes following him.
He shouldn’t have been so bothered, but he turned back to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. Andrea looked at him unflinchingly.
He knew exactly what to do now. He’s done it a few times before. He should shake his head slightly, and Andrea would get the hint and find someone else to look at like that.
But somehow, he couldn’t. He found himself staring at the ground and wondering if Andrea mistook his gesture for consent or interest.
For reasons he didn’t care to examine too closely, the thought made his heart beat faster.
It didn’t take much to separate himself from his teammates and to let Andrea follow him. Mesut could feel his eyes on him, even though he didn’t dare to turn and make sure he really followed him.
He wasn’t even sure where was he leading him, or what was it exactly that was supposed to happen when they got there. He just walked, and somewhere behind, Andrea followed.
Or so he hoped.
He tried to figure out what to say to the other man, but there was no time - Andrea already caught up with him. Mesut kept walking, mainly because he wasn’t sure he was ready for them to stop. If they stopped, he’d have to say something, and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be his usual I’m not interested.
There was a warm breath on his neck, and then a warm hand on his hand, and he finally stopped, because he wasn’t sure he was able to walk without stumbling anymore. Andrea’s presence was overwhelming, hot, real, strong. Mesut’s whole body shook violently when Andrea touched his face - slowly, carefully, as if he was studying him. He moaned and leaned into the touch, and suddenly everything was happening at once - he was against the wall and he could feel Andrea pressing his thighs apart and pushing his shorts down. There was smell and touch and a warm tongue on his neck and he was so hard he couldn’t imagine that it could last more than seconds, though somehow it did, and he could feel even more - Andrea thrusting against him, kissing his neck, pressing his firmly to the wall - biting his neck - he felt his head spinning then - and that sound of needy, desperate, moans, that same sound he used to detest and which now made him lose control, thrust against Andrea and come into his hand, panting.
Luckily, Andrea didn’t expect him to say anything while he blushed and tried to put his shorts back on and tell himself it meant nothing at all. But then again, Andrea stayed and watched and pulled him back just when Mesut was about to walk away and kissed him softly on his cheek.
Somehow, it was enough to make Mesut lightheaded again.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so wrong if he stayed for just a little bit longer.