fic: Tables Turned (Ander Herrera/Markel Susaeta/Iker Muniain, R)

[txorakeriak]

Title: Tables Turned
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Football RPS, Athletic Club Bilbao
Pairing: Ander Herrera/Markel Susaeta, Ander Herrera/Markel Susaeta/Iker Muniain
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I'm a lying bastard and made this all up. I don't claim to know any of the players I write about, they're most definitely not mine, and this very probably didn't happen. No payment involved, no offence intended. This is for my own entertainment.
Summary: Ander and Markel want nothing more than spend a quiet night together after the match against Mallorca. However, there's more than one reason why Athletic's away matches are like school trips: There's no chance for peace and quiet.
Dedication: For jennis_footie, who requested Ander/Markel/Iker after having found a certain picture. Merry Christmas, and thanks for being such a wonderful, positive, affectionate person, for always being there when I need someone to beta my fics (and for enduring all my mistakes and my Linda Blair moments), and for being an awesome friend. *glomps*
Word Count: 4,753
Allergy Warning: May contain traces of smut. Read at own risk.
Thanks to Kellie for the amazingly quick beta! You rock! :D
Feedback: Everything is most welcome, from squee to constructive criticism. I even accept rotten tomatoes, so don't be shy. ;)



*****

Ander had been to a lot of away matches in his career. He'd spent countless nights in hotel rooms all over Spain with Real Zaragoza. And even though he'd say he got on well with his teammates then, even had some close friends among the squad, somehow the time he spent in concentraciones with them was never quite like it was with Athletic.

Playing away from San Mamés with Athletic was like going on a school trip. Granted, they had a relatively young squad, but that wasn't even it. A couple of pranks by players like Gurpegi and Koi made Ander realise that age had nothing to do with it. (Only, in some cases, it made things even worse.)

It wasn't even the pranks either. Pranks were merely a sign of the great atmosphere in the squad. Pranks were amusing. Especially when they happened to someone else.

No, it wasn't the pranks at all.

It was the huge Playstation tournaments that almost made the beds cave in because too many people were sitting on them, either hitting away furiously on the buttons of their controllers or just watching their teammates.

It was the super-secret challenges they came up with for each other, like breaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night and bringing leftover food as proof, or painting someone's face while he's sleeping, or covering another sleeping teammate's hand in shaving cream and tickling his face until he slaps himself.

It was the (usually fruitless but very creative) attempts to extend the curfew.

It was the fact that, in the highly unlikely event you managed to sweet-talk the most beautiful girl of the school (or, in this case, the most gorgeous guy on the team) into spending some time with you, someone barged into the room just when you were about to start the romance. And not just that - completely clueless about what you were just about to do, he took over the place as if it belonged to him and wasted your time with all kinds of unimportant things, deaf and blind to any of your hints about him getting the fuck out.

It was all that, and especially the last part.

After the exhausting and frustrating match against Mallorca, Ander wanted nothing more than be alone with Markel, but it simply wasn't meant to be. Just as he was about to crawl into Markel's bed, the door slammed open and Iker entered, beaming as always, carrying his Playstation and a pair of controllers.

"I just remembered that you owe me a rematch," he declared as he plugged the console into the TV set. "And I decided to have it now. You can't be tired, you weren't running a lot earlier, I saw you."

It was a lie, and the wink that accompanied it made it absolutely clear that Iker knew how much energy the match had cost Ander. But there was no use discussing with this guy.

He exchanged a quick glance with Markel, who shrugged, good-humouredly rolled his eyes, and sat up in his bed to grab a magazine from his bedside table.

Without even asking, Iker plopped on Ander's bed and made himself comfortable - which basically meant spreading himself over the entire bed.

Ander bit back a grin. Well, maybe this wasn't so bad. He quickly sat on Markel's bed and shifted into a comfortable position, and Markel thankfully didn't shift at all, so they were soon sitting really really close to each other, thigh against thigh, shoulder against shoulder. Markel didn't look up from his magazine, but there was a faint smile on his face.

"Prepare for the manita I'm going to score against you," Iker said with a grin, and Ander was lucky to turn his head in time and catch the controller that was being thrown at him before it could knock him unconscious.

"Only if I don't score one against you first!"

Granted, this didn't compare to what Ander had actually had in mind for the evening, but Markel's closeness made up for it. Every once in a while, his arm would brush against his as he turned a page, or his fingers would casually rest on Ander's thigh for a short while. And Iker, too eager to wipe out the shame of his last match against Ander, wasn't even paying attention - no, he was even making silly mistakes that allowed Ander to score three goals before Iker put the first shot past Ander's keeper.

The match ended 4-3, which was not decisive enough at all so Iker demanded another match to be played. Ander, who was getting more than just mildly aroused with Markel's sneaky touches, wanted Iker gone but couldn't possibly tell him why and couldn't think of any plausible lies either (he knew Iker would never accept "I want to sleep" or anything like that). So he had to swallow his protests and play another match.

Unfortunately, Iker was improving constantly during that second match and Ander was more than a little distracted. Having obviously realised that Iker wasn't paying attention to anything other than the video game, Markel was getting bolder, slowly running his fingers along the inside of Ander's thigh or down his back, or brushing along the soles of Ander's feet with his toes, or leaning in to whisper cheeky stuff into his ear before loudly praising Iker's performance.

When the final whistle sounded, the score was 4-1 for Iker, and Ander was horny as hell. He bit his lip and endured Iker's gloating like a good loser, hoping that the teenager would finally leave so he could pay Markel back for all that teasing.

But Iker made no move to leave. He stretched himself, looking very pleased with himself, and offered another match. "I can beat you with a clean sheet," he said, "I know it. Want to see?"

Ander sighed. "No, thanks, I believe you."

Iker looked over to him, a frown on his face. "You give up, just like that?"

"No, I'm tired."

Iker snorted. "When did you become such a wuss?"

Ander glared at him. "I'm not a wuss. I need sleep."

"You can sleep long enough tomorrow night."

"But I want to sleep tonight."

Iker gave him an amused look. "Yeah, I can see that. Fucking hell, look at you two. I bet you don't want to sleep at all, huh?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and it was perfectly clear what he was hinting at.

Markel tensed up next to him, but Ander forced himself to play it cool. It was just a joke, nothing else. Well, he could play that game, too.

Demonstratively putting his hand on Markel's thigh, he said, "Yeah, we want you to get out so we can fuck each other, so why are you still here?"

Markel moved, obviously wanting to brush Ander's hand away, but Iker's laughter stopped him mid-motion.

"Yeah, right," Iker snorted, clearly not believing a word of what Ander had said. "You suddenly turned gay. Obviously." He looked at them, probably expecting them to drop the act, but Ander would be damned if he'd let Iker win this.

He took Markel's hand, which was still hovering on top of his, and entwined their fingers. "Yeah. We were fed up with women, you know. All that drama and high maintenance, just for sex. It's not worth it."

"Exactly," Markel chimed in, squeezing Ander's hand. His voice sounded just a little higher than usual, and Ander knew that his boyfriend was nervous about this, but he doubted Iker would notice. The guy was too busy considering everything they did a prank at his expense.

"Right, suuure," Iker said, still grinning. "So, who's doing the work, then?" He gave both of them a quick one-over. "I bet he does," he said, pointing at Markel. "He's a lot more masculine with that stubble, eh?"

Ander opened his mouth to protest, but Iker cut him off. "Sorry, mate, but your face is as smooth as a girl's. Can't be helped."

"I do shave, thank you very much," Ander grumbled, glaring at his teammate. The joke was no different from the stuff that Iker usually directed at him, but somehow they felt slightly inappropriate in the situation.

"You're wrong anyway," Markel said, coming to the rescue. "He's doing all the work. And he's really good at it too."

Iker burst into laughter. "Nope, sorry. Can't imagine that at all. You have to come up with something better to make me fall for this prank. Seriously." He looked pitifully at Ander and then at Markel. "Amateurs!"

"Something better?" Ander asked. "Like what?" Only God knew what crazed thoughts the question would put into Iker's mind, but Ander figured it was safer to let Iker call the shots.

Iker shrugged. "I don't know! But you have to admit that this hand-holding thing is a bit lame. I could hold hands with you two and it wouldn't prove anything."

"He has a point," Markel said with a grin. He was obviously starting to enjoy this. Damn it.

"What do you want us to do?" Ander asked. "Kiss?"

"That would be a start!" Iker said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Well?"

Ander looked at Markel, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"But you have to move so I can see it," Iker demanded before they could do anything. "I won't have you cheat me with a bad angle."

"Fine," Ander sighed, shifting on the bed. "Better?"

"No," Iker declared, waving at them. "If you're so gay, go and sit on him."

The words made Markel snort. "Yeah, go and sit on me, Ander," he said with a grin, clearly enjoying this too much.

Ander nearly lost it. Biting his lip in order not to grin, he moved to straddle Markel and put both hands on the other man's shoulders. "Like this?"

Iker nodded. "Not bad, not bad. I'm still not convinced though."

Ander looked at Markel.

Markel looked at Ander.

It was completely insane to do this, and Ander was sure that Markel knew it too, but he had to admit that it was fun, somehow, to make Iker think they were playing a prank on him when, in fact, they were being absolutely honest. Also, it was a welcome opportunity to finally touch each other the way they wanted to, without having to worry that anyone would notice they were more than just friends.

Slowly, Ander leaned in, smiling when Markel instinctively tilted his head, and a second later his lips touched Markel's, and he had to make quite an effort to keep the kiss light and innocent and ignore the urge to kiss Markel properly, deeply, just like they'd done it so many times. Also, he had to force himself to pull away a lot sooner than he would have wanted to, which really sucked but couldn't be helped.

For a while, there was silence. Wonderful, wonderful silence.

Then Iker chuckled, though it did sound just a tiny bit forced this time. "That was it?" he asked, making a face. "I bet you didn't even use tongue. You didn't, did you?"

"You didn't say you wanted that," Markel said, putting on his best look of innocence. Ander could have snogged the hell out of him.

"Pfft," Iker huffed, unimpressed. "I could do this. And I'd be a lot more convincing than any you pretenders. If you have any sense of honour at all, you admit that you tried to prank me and it didn't work because I was too clever for you."

"You'd be more convincing doing this?" Ander said, grinning. "With whom would you do it, then?"

Iker shrugged. "Whoever! Anyone!"

"With the coach?" Markel asked, grinning.

Iker made a face at that. "I do have my pride, thank you very much."

"Who then?" Markel prodded. "Would you kiss Ander?"

Ander stared at him, baffled. Markel wasn't seriously suggesting… But he had that grin on his face, the one that made it rather clear that he was making mischief and enjoying it. Fucking hell.

Ander looked at Iker, who didn't seem too convinced at first but then ruined Ander's hopes by saying, "Yeah, why not. I'd do it."

"Come on, then," Markel said, gesturing at Iker to come over and join them.

Ander nearly jumped off the bed. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening.

And yet, it was. Iker hesitated one last second, then got off Ander's bed and walked over to Markel's.

Ander felt like saying a million things to Markel in that moment. Things like, "What the fuck are you doing?" Or, "Are you insane?" Or, "You'd just let Iker kiss me? Just like that?" At no point in their relationship had they even hinted at being with anyone else, and Ander didn't need anyone else, so what was Markel doing? Was he testing him? Was this a trick?

Ignoring Iker, he leaned close to Markel and whispered, "Are you serious"?

Markel put a hand on Ander's thigh and squeezed lightly. "I want it if you do." And, a little louder, he said, "You have to get off me, I want to get a good view of this!"

Ander pulled back, a million thoughts running through his head. Did he really want to kiss Iker? No, he was completely and perfectly happy with Markel. However, as he pondered the matter, he realised that this wasn't what this was about. The question wasn't, "Do you want to kiss Iker when you can have Markel?" The question was, "Do you want to kiss Iker?" In the sense of, "Would you want to kiss Iker if you weren't in a relationship with Markel?" Ander had to admit that the answer to that was yes. Iker was insufferable and crazy but he was also wonderfully endearing and a great person and it was difficult to say no to him and impossible to stay mad at him for long. And yes, Ander did want to kiss him.

He climbed off Markel and sat beside him, flashing an almost challenging look at Iker, who was still standing at the bedside. "Getting cold feet?"

"Never," Iker said, an expression of pure determination on his face. And suddenly, Ander found himself straddled by Iker, who obviously had a point to prove and who, without wasting any time, leaned in to press his mouth to Ander's.

It wasn't exactly the best kiss he'd ever gotten in his life. Actually, it was one of the worst. Iker was way too rough, and whenever he opened his mouth, Ander felt his teeth. And then, when Iker ended up covering Ander's entire mouth with spit in an attempt to prove that he knew how to use his tongue.

When Iker finally pulled away, Markel was laughing madly, and Ander shook his head in disbelief, wiping his mouth demonstratively.

"Fucking hell, what was that?" Markel managed in between his guffawing.

Iker pouted. "You're just envious that I was more convincing than you."

"Convincing?" Ander laughed. "The only thing I'm absolutely convinced of is that you've never done this before. With anyone. Not even girls."

Iker glared at him. "For your information-"

"Save it," Ander interrupted him. "Dude, you suck at this."

"And you're so good at it, huh?" Iker said defiantly. He looked at Markel, who was still laughing. "Is he a natural talent or what?"

Markel looked up, wiping his eyes. "You could say that," he said, calming down a bit.

"I didn't notice that at all," Iker said, still pouting.

"How could you have noticed when you were so busy biting me and slobbering all over me?" Ander almost felt bad about teasing Iker like that, but it was just too funny that the guy with the biggest mouth in the entire squad had so little experience (and talent) in this particular department.

"Well, you natural talent, why don't you show me how much you rock at this?" Iker said, glaring.

"If you promise me not to bite me or coat my face in spit…"

"Whatever!"

"Fine. Don't move. Just sit still."

Iker rolled his eyes. "You say that as if you didn't believe I could do that."

"I'm having my doubts," Ander said, putting a hand on the back of Iker's head to pull him close. "Now shut up."

"Mhm."

When Ander's lips brushed against Iker's, it felt weird at first. More than weird. Not just because Iker didn't react, but also because this wasn't what he was used to. There was no stubble, and Iker's lips weren't as soft as Markel's were. But at least there were no teeth this time, and there wasn't an abundance of spit either. Iker was sitting completely still as Ander softly pressed his mouth to his teammate's, and for a few seconds the only sign of life he gave was his breath that came out of his nose in quick puffs.

Then, suddenly, he did react. Trying to imitate exactly what Ander was doing, Iker opened his mouth and started nipping at Ander's lips, and suddenly it didn't feel horrible anymore but surprisingly good. Reasonably impressed, Ander deeped the kiss, then suddenly pulled back as he realised what he was doing. Wondering if he'd overstepped the line, he looked at Markel, but his boyfriend was looking back at him with a smile on his face.

"Damn, you should have seen this," he said. "That was epic."

Ander's astonishment about his boyfriend's statement was evident on his face, but Iker gladly took the compliment. "See? I know I could be more convincing that you."

"Oh no, I didn't say that!" Markel laughed. "Do you want me to show you something that's really convincing?"

"Go on, show."

Ander could have sworn that Markel would kiss Iker to prove his point, so he was all the more surprised when Markel got up from his sitting position to kneel next to Ander and cupped his face before pulling him into a kiss that was a lot more intense than before and definitely not innocent anymore. Ander had to force himself to think of the most unsexy things he could come up with just so he wouldn't grow hard again, because this time Iker would definitely notice, but the longer they kissed, and the more deeply Markel kissed him, the more difficult it became to concentrate. He hated himself for being so damned responsive to Markel's touches and kisses, but he couldn't help it.

However, when they broke the kiss and Ander looked at Iker, he realised that there was someone even more affected from all this. They had wiped the smug grin off Iker's face completely. Instead, he was staring at them, strangely tongue-tied for once, breathing irregularly out of his half-open mouth. And that wasn't all, considering the way he fidgeted.

Fucking hell. The little prank had definitely got out of hand.

"Convinced now?"

Iker gulped. His gaze shifted from Ander to Markel and back again repeatedly. "Fuck," he said after a while, sounding a little out of breath, "I don't care what this makes you, or me, but can you do that again?"

Ander's eyes went wide. That clearly wasn't what he'd expected Iker to say! True, the guy wasn't sixteen anymore, but he was still a teenager, and Ander had expected him to be confused about this more than anything else! Though if he wasn't…

Well, if he wasn't, there was only one thing to say in this situation. "Want to try it yourself?"

Iker looked at Markel and nodded, climbing off of Ander and squeezing himself between them, cleverly claiming Markel's pillow as he looked up at him. "I'm ready."

Markel laughed and Ander couldn't help grinning. No, this guy definitely wasn't confused. He was enjoying this.

Without needing any further invitations, Markel bent down and claimed Iker's mouth, not quite as hungrily as he kissed Ander earlier but close enough, and for a while Ander just sat there watching, mesmerized. This was completely wrong, and yet, somehow, it was incredibly sexy to see his boyfriend make Iker squirm with nothing more than his mouth against the striker's. Neither Ander nor Markel were actually touching him. (Though after a while Iker remedied the fact by grabbing Ander's arm and nudging it under his shirt.)

By then, Ander was hard again, and without even thinking, he allowed himself to drop on the bed, half of his body covering Iker's, his leg between the striker's as he decided to stop watching and start doing something. His mouth attached itself to Iker's neck, sucking gently at the exposed skin while his hand roamed across Markel's back, and when Iker moaned and bucked his hips, Ander ground down against him, relishing the warm, tingling feeling that spread in his body at the delicious friction.

After a while, Markel pulled back, and Ander, feeling the bed shift underneath him, pushed himself up on the palms of his hands, half kneeling between Iker's legs as he looked at his boyfriend.

"Come here," was all the warning Markel got before Ander pulled him close and crashed their lips together again hungrily, and Markel kissed back with equal fervour, his hands crawling underneath Ander's shirt.

In a corner of his mind, Ander still wasn't sure if they should take this any further with Iker still being in the room, but then Iker made that decision for him by grabbing his hand and placing it on his crotch, bucking his hips against the palm. And when Ander, surprised, broke the kiss and stared at where his hand cupped Iker's dick, rock-hard, through his trackpants, and Markel, realising what was happening, quickly covered Ander's hand with his own, the doubts vanished. Iker would get what he wanted, now that he and Markel had made him want it.

With one tug, they removed Iker's trackpants and boxers while the striker helpfully squirmed out of his polo shirt. He still had his socks on, but otherwise he lay there completely naked, slightly flushed, looking at Ander and Markel with what Ander considered to be way too much confidence. There was no embarrassment, no awkwardness, no shyness at all. On the one hand that was normal, as it was Iker, but on the other hand Ander would have expected the teenager to feel at least a little discomfort, lying there naked in between two still fully clothed teammates.

Markel pulled him out of his thoughts as he started to tug on Ander's shirt, and it didn't take long until they had both followed Iker's example (at least to a certain extent, because Ander didn't really share Iker's impressive self-confidence and wasn't sure he wanted him to check him out from head to toe), and were kneeling on the bed shirtless, one on either side of Iker. Iker, who didn't even bother to conceal his excitement.

Ander chuckled. "Look at him," he said, giving Iker an amused look, "ten minutes ago he didn't believe us…"

"Just for the record," Iker said, "I still don't believe you were going to fuck."

"Why not?" Markel asked. "We could have been!"

Iker chuckled. "Yeah, if you had lazed about during the match as I said you did. Does that mean I was right?"

Ander glared at him. "I think I just got some extra energy, let's go and fuck Iker!"

"No, you didn't," Iker said, feeling curiously unfazed about the threat. "And even if you did, I don't think your boyfriend will let you fuck me."

"So you believe us now?"

Iker rolled his eyes. "I believed you a while ago. Last week, actually. When I accidentally and completely coincidentally picked up your mobile, thinking it was mine, and there were more pictures of him - or you and him - on it than of all other people together."

Ander frowned. "We don't even have the same type of mobile."

"I know!" Iker said. "I must have been really scatterbrained that day. Anyway, when I went to return the mobile, you took awfully long to open the door, so I climbed that tree outside your house - just to check if you're okay, and all! - and you were snogging him in the hallway. Be glad I already suspected something earlier, otherwise I'd probably fallen off the tree."

"I didn't hear you ring the bell until much later than that!" Ander had a vague idea where this was going.

"I know. I didn't ring until much later."

Ander looked at Markel. "I think we should leave him like that. Grab his clothes, and ours, and leave this room."

"Tie him to the bed before we leave," Markel suggested.

"Guys, that's not fair," Iker complained. "It's not my fault that you're amateurs. I think I deserve some reward for opening your eyes."

Ander snorted. "So we didn't really open yours either?"

Iker grinned. "That would be telling. And I don't feel like it."

Markel crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I think we should actually fuck him. Both of us at the same time."

Ander grinned. "Might not open his eyes but definitely something else…"

"Thank God I'm lying on my back then," Iker said and stuck his tongue out at them. "I'm not turning around. Forget it."

"It's not much," Ander said to Markel, "but I guess we can let him off with a scare, huh?"

Markel nodded. "Not too sure we can let him off with this, though," he said, pointing in the direction of Iker's crotch.

"That would be cruel," Ander agreed. "Deserved, but cruel."

"I think I have an idea…" Markel said, pulling Ander close and whispering something into his ear.

When he was finished, Ander was grinning widely.

Perfect.

Iker clearly took his pranks too far sometimes, but they knew he wasn't trying to hurt or offend anyone with them, it was just his idea of having fun. It didn't change anything about the fact that he was their enano, and they all loved him. And when they had to teach him a lesson, they did it with a lot of affection.

Iker mistrusted them and their whispering for all but one second; then both Ander and Markel bent down towards him and their lips closed around the skin of Iker's neck while their hands roamed over Iker's chest. That was when the striker seemed to have discarded his doubts entirely and was focusing on more pressing matters. For instance, the fact that Ander and Markel were kissing their way down his body, agonizingly slowly, until they'd reached his crotch and their cheeks almost touched his dick as they lapped at the sensitive skin around it. They teased him for as long as they could, deliberately ignoring his dick, grinning as Iker started pushing their heads in a certain direction and accompanying the gesture with all kinds of frustrated sounds.

When Ander finally decided to have mercy and wrapped his lips around the head of Iker's cock while Markel started licking at the base, Iker groaned loudly, and he didn't last much longer after that. All it took was Ander taking him in a couple of times and Markel massaging the base with his tongue, and Iker gasped, panted rapidly a couple of times, and then Iker was coming into Ander's mouth in thick spurts.

Ander had no intention of swallowing, but he didn't want Markel to sleep in a sticky bed, so he was careful not to let anything spill. As soon as Iker was finished, Ander jumped up, got out of bed, ran over to the bathroom and spat everything into the sink, ignoring Iker's mock-offended, "Way to hurt my pride, you know?"

"You think?" he said with a grin as he returned to the bedroom.

Iker didn't get another warning. All of a sudden, both Ander and Markel grabbed him, hauled him out of the bed, and dropped him outside in the corridor.

While the striker was still getting his bearings, his clothes followed the same route.

Once the door was shut and locked, Ander pulled Markel close and kissed him. "It's past eleven," he said, glancing at his watch. "We should long be in bed."

Markel smiled. "What are you waiting for, then?" He glanced down to where their groins touched, then looked back at Ander. "I think we still have some unfinished business."

Ander smiled back at his boyfriend. He had a feeling that Iker would say the same, but at least he wouldn't bother them again that night. That was something to be grateful for.