well known secrets - gerrard/alonso
so err long time no fic. this is very random and not good and well ... just random!
well known secrets
steven gerrard/xabi alonso | R | random like i said | 2250 words
Steven Gerrard doesn’t enjoy being ‘coddled’, taken care of so to speak. Because what kind of man lets any woman (or anyone for that matter) wrap blankets round them, rub their forehead with a damp cloth and press the water bottle gently under the sheets so that it doesn’t burn them.
“A nancy, son that’s who.”
He can practically hear his fathers voice as Xabi lifts the bag along with his own from the back seat and holds the door open for Steven.
It might be just being polite though; like Xabi usually is. Always is.
He sets the rucksack down on the neat floor beside the sofa which Steven takes it to set himself upon, gathering his phone from his pocket; wincing at the pain in his thigh as he tilts his hips to get better access to it.
Presses a few keys to indicate to Alex he won’t be home tonight.
"Mate putting me up. See you tomorrow."
She won't know any different.
He hears the clink of bottles, the popping of a cap before he turns to see Xabi approaching the table and setting them on the glass surface, frowning at the stain beneath the magazine there and rubbing at it absentmindely.
Steven makes a low chuckling sound in the back of his throat; picks up the bottle he assumes is for him and takes a mouthful.
Xabi simply narrows his eyes before he heads back to the kitchen. Steven can hear the running water, and the clattering of plates. The very soft thudding sound the fridge makes when it opens and the bizarre half singing, half humming thing Xabi does when he’s cooking. Or cleaning. Showering. Sometimes even when he’s sleeping.
Steven’s yet to work out what the aimless tunes actually add up too; sometimes he wonders if he even cares. (Oh but he does; he just doesn’t let on he does.)
He’s awoken from his daydream by more clattering on the table in front of him, eyes the sandwich sitting there curiously, tilting his head as though it appeared out of thin air.
Xabi sits beside him, an indecipherable half grin on his face as he holds the hot water bottle in front of Steven’s eyes. He reaches down between his legs and presses the warm soothing material there, massaging more than he ought too and holding his gaze that bit more than is safe before he turns back to the television across the room.
Steven shifts uncomfortably, adjusts the bottle before finishing his drink, eating his the offered food. There’s a strange silence in the room and Steven almost gets the vibe that Xabi is … angry with him? Maybe.
He can smell alcohol off him; probably from after the match. Everyone deserves a celebration; despite the fact that Steven himself spent it in the doc’s office getting his fucking thigh prodded at till it was almost numb.
Xabi being Xabi though picked him up in the taxi he ordered himself, smiling as helped Stevie into the car. An amiable nod from the doc at the kind act between team-mates and friends.
Though Xabi hadn’t spoke at all the whole way home; has barely spoken yet in fact and the only noise in the room is the quiet buzz of the television set showing some old, awful comedy repeats.
“S’wrong with you?” Steven manages through a mouthful of the substance on the plate, wiping at his mouth as he does so.
All he gets is another shrug as Xabi’s fork delves into the pasta there.
Steven nudges him with his hand, brow furrowed and seeking answers.
“What?” Xabi’s agitated he can tell it by his eyes, voice, “you’ve barely acknowledged me all day. I thought you deserved the same back no?”
Steven shakes his head.
“What the fuck? How did I ignore you and why the hell am I here?"
Xabi smirks a little into himself when he thinks Steven isn’t watching.
“You.” He begins, scrapes at his plate with his knife now, “are useful for somethings.”
Stevie shrugs himself now. Picks himself up and heads to the bathroom, limping along, face screwed up in concentration at the pain back in his upper leg.
“You are finished now yes?”
Steven opens the door, when he's finished, to find Xabi standing there, one hand balanced on the door frame and the other tucked into his back pocket so that he's balanced in a very alluring pose.
“Ehm. Yeh.”
Steven goes to walk around him; is stopped by hand on his chest and a foot in his path. He looks up to meet that grin again, eyes that tell something else altogether.
“No.” Xabi barely whispers, hand clenched in Steven’s shirt, gazing at his mouth and the scent of alcohol is somewhat stronger now to Steven. He can virtually taste it himself as he inhales deeply.
“I have other plans for you.”
Stevie notices the living room is in darkness now, the television off and the lights in the kitchen cabinets dimmed down low. He swallows somewhat nervously as he catches the glint in Xabi’s eyes who quickly turns away; determined to quell the giddy smile his face tells of.
Xabi opens his bedroom door, also bathed in darkness Stevie notes as he reaches for the light switch. Xabi’s fingers clench around his wrist however, preventing any more movement.
“No,” a vibration of air against his earlobe.
He can’t see a fucking thing as he’s nudged gently to where he knows Xabi’s bed is, he can barely (just barely) make out the books scattered on Xabi’s table from the thin streak of moonlight and streetlights that filter through the curtains.
He feels the back of knees hit the mattress before he himself is pushed onto it, his back pressed against it as he’s nudged further up the bed.
However he doesn’t feel the press of the other body against his like he usually does; simply feels the sudden coolness of the air hitting his chest as his shirt is peeled off.
“Just. Lay still,” almost a command from the Spaniard as he walks over to the wardrobe to retrieve something.
Stevie’s never felt so restless on Xabi’s bed before now; never felt so restless ever in fact.
He feels a whole lot worse when Xabi comes back and he feels his right arm being yanked above his head and the tight pull of fabric around his wrist.
“Xabi seriously? What the...?"
Xabi just laughs, low and dark as he reaches for the other one before Steven can snatch it away from him.
Stevie tugs experimentally at the ties, finds they aren’t even loose in the slightest.
Fuck.
He didn’t even know Xabi liked this sort of thing.
Then again they never varied much from their routine.
Kiss. Fuck. Go home.
The occasional blow job in the showers after training, not much else.
Never this.
He feels Xabi lean over him now, the bed shift as his weight presses down into the mattress.
He can feel the breath against his face, the eyes drawing ever closer before Xabi leans over to switch on the lamp.
Steven can finally see again; see the glint in Xabi’s eyes fully now and the disheveled and simply filthy look on his face.
“Please. What are you doing? Xabi…” he’s pleading now. His heart beat speeding up as Xabi tilts his head, smiles almost malevolently.
“I wanted to try something new. Different. Change is good Gerrard.” He leans down, presses his lips against Steven’s throat and revels in the nervous hum under the skin.
“Hm. Xabi I don’t know if…” he’s cut short when he feels Xabi’s jaw open and a set of teeth sink neatly into the soft skin there.
Steven yelps, pushes up in hope of trying to force him off. No such luck.
Xabi presses him into the mattress with his hips, firm and hard (being the appropriate word). He runs his tongue over the vicious red marks forming there, breathes over them, gentle and hot.
His mouth travels further down, onto his chest pressing his tongue to nipples that harden instantly, sensitive to any sort of touch. Steven hisses as he feels Xabi blow cold air over one.
“Ok. Maybe you could untie me now we've experimented a bit yeh?” Steven is pleading now, eyes wide with what could be lust or anxiety (most probably both).
He makes a high pitched whimpering sound as Xabi presses his hand between his legs, tongue poking out mischievously between his teeth and the sight Steven flashes straight to his cock.
He still hasn’t worked out himself why he’s doing this; forcing Stevie into a situation he clearly doesn’t want to be in – yet. Maybe he just enjoys having the upperhand; the power he almost never gets.
Steven finds himself wracking his mind for excuses for tomorrow about the ferocious red teeth marks on his neck as he feels Xabi tracing patterns on his stomach, it only mildly distracts him as he thinks of various methods involving scarves and high necked jumpers.
He can feel the wet kisses being littered over his stomach better now; thinks that this might not be so bad if it weren’t for the amount of alcohol in Xabi’s system which has apparently turned him into some sort of, anti-Xabi. Oh and minus the ties that keep him chained to the headboard, that would make Steven feel a lot safer too.
“Christ Xabi come on.” Steven doesn’t know what he’s begging for; to be let go or for Xabi to hurry the hell up and fuck him and get it over with.
Xabi crawls back up his body, threads his fingers delicately through the other one’s hair and kisses him on the mouth, almost tender and its like a different person again.
Steven is afraid to move in fear of awakening the other Xabi again.
Too late though.
He feels teeth again, this time the side of his neck.
“Fuck,” a yelp and he feels Xabi smirk against his neck.
He breathes heavily, feels Xabi slither down his body again, fingers stroking at his thigh, a mouth pressed gently against the sore inner muscle there.
Steven sighs; finally content with something tonight. Wants to reach down and stroke the other one’s hair, clenches his fingers in frustration as he feels the ties around the taut bones there.
He feels Xabi breath over his cock, squirms into the sheets and tilts his hips up in search of friction or anything that will relieve him.
Xabi’s fingers tug at the hem of his boxers, ever so gently pulling them down and freeing him from the intense heat there and he gasps as he feels a tongue run over the head of his cock.
But Xabi only pulls away, tugs his legs apart and kneels between them, slowly unbuttoning his own shirt. He looks up at Steven from under hooded lids, hair falling over his face in an utterly seductive manner and Stevie can’t help but gulp slightly.
He wants to sit up so badly, to rip Xabi’s hands away and strip the man in front of him a lot faster. He watches, can feel his mind almost spinning away from him along with all other logical thought as he watches Xabi pop the button on his jeans. Long fingers trail along the zip and Stevie’s breath gets heavier as he waits for what is to be revealed.
He throws his head back onto the pillow; the mere tension in the air and the pain in his neck forcing him to stop. Though he can’t tear his eyes away for long as cranes his head forward again to watch as Xabi pulls down his own boxers, strokes himself ever so slowly.
Steven moans nudges his lower body slightly towards the other one’s body heat, Xabi only grins; less intent in the smile now. He leans down and kisses him properly before he reaches over to the bedside cabinet. Stevie follows his hand with his eyes. Feels a sense of anxious relief as he anticipates what’s to come.
He feels Xabi drag his nails down his stomach, winces slightly as he feels the burning sensation rip through the soft flesh there and his eyes widen when he watches as Xabi produces tequila instead of what Stevie expected to be lubricant.
He watches fascinated as Xabi pours some into the cap before drizzling it down his stomach, it burns but then the other man soothes it with his tongue, long sweeping motions and Stevie finds himself so much more relaxed now. Despite the vicious red marks on his neck and the purple bruises that are bound to be there on his wrists in the morning.
“Please.” He breathes against Xabi’s hair again as the other man licks at his neck, the stench of the alcohol all-consuming in the room.
Xabi growls against his neck before he screws the lid on the bottle and throughs it on the clothes on the floor.
And he finally gets what he wants. Xabi fucks him into the matress, headboard thumping once or twice off the wall and Stevie's fingers turn white from clenching it so very hard.
Xabi unties him after the sweat has cooled and Steven's arms feel like they might just fall off. They lay in silence after that till Xabi claps a hand over Stevie's waste and onto his wrists and soothes them his fingers.
"Experiments aren't that bad really you know."
well known secrets
steven gerrard/xabi alonso | R | random like i said | 2250 words
Steven Gerrard doesn’t enjoy being ‘coddled’, taken care of so to speak. Because what kind of man lets any woman (or anyone for that matter) wrap blankets round them, rub their forehead with a damp cloth and press the water bottle gently under the sheets so that it doesn’t burn them.
“A nancy, son that’s who.”
He can practically hear his fathers voice as Xabi lifts the bag along with his own from the back seat and holds the door open for Steven.
It might be just being polite though; like Xabi usually is. Always is.
He sets the rucksack down on the neat floor beside the sofa which Steven takes it to set himself upon, gathering his phone from his pocket; wincing at the pain in his thigh as he tilts his hips to get better access to it.
Presses a few keys to indicate to Alex he won’t be home tonight.
"Mate putting me up. See you tomorrow."
She won't know any different.
He hears the clink of bottles, the popping of a cap before he turns to see Xabi approaching the table and setting them on the glass surface, frowning at the stain beneath the magazine there and rubbing at it absentmindely.
Steven makes a low chuckling sound in the back of his throat; picks up the bottle he assumes is for him and takes a mouthful.
Xabi simply narrows his eyes before he heads back to the kitchen. Steven can hear the running water, and the clattering of plates. The very soft thudding sound the fridge makes when it opens and the bizarre half singing, half humming thing Xabi does when he’s cooking. Or cleaning. Showering. Sometimes even when he’s sleeping.
Steven’s yet to work out what the aimless tunes actually add up too; sometimes he wonders if he even cares. (Oh but he does; he just doesn’t let on he does.)
He’s awoken from his daydream by more clattering on the table in front of him, eyes the sandwich sitting there curiously, tilting his head as though it appeared out of thin air.
Xabi sits beside him, an indecipherable half grin on his face as he holds the hot water bottle in front of Steven’s eyes. He reaches down between his legs and presses the warm soothing material there, massaging more than he ought too and holding his gaze that bit more than is safe before he turns back to the television across the room.
Steven shifts uncomfortably, adjusts the bottle before finishing his drink, eating his the offered food. There’s a strange silence in the room and Steven almost gets the vibe that Xabi is … angry with him? Maybe.
He can smell alcohol off him; probably from after the match. Everyone deserves a celebration; despite the fact that Steven himself spent it in the doc’s office getting his fucking thigh prodded at till it was almost numb.
Xabi being Xabi though picked him up in the taxi he ordered himself, smiling as helped Stevie into the car. An amiable nod from the doc at the kind act between team-mates and friends.
Though Xabi hadn’t spoke at all the whole way home; has barely spoken yet in fact and the only noise in the room is the quiet buzz of the television set showing some old, awful comedy repeats.
“S’wrong with you?” Steven manages through a mouthful of the substance on the plate, wiping at his mouth as he does so.
All he gets is another shrug as Xabi’s fork delves into the pasta there.
Steven nudges him with his hand, brow furrowed and seeking answers.
“What?” Xabi’s agitated he can tell it by his eyes, voice, “you’ve barely acknowledged me all day. I thought you deserved the same back no?”
Steven shakes his head.
“What the fuck? How did I ignore you and why the hell am I here?"
Xabi smirks a little into himself when he thinks Steven isn’t watching.
“You.” He begins, scrapes at his plate with his knife now, “are useful for somethings.”
Stevie shrugs himself now. Picks himself up and heads to the bathroom, limping along, face screwed up in concentration at the pain back in his upper leg.
“You are finished now yes?”
Steven opens the door, when he's finished, to find Xabi standing there, one hand balanced on the door frame and the other tucked into his back pocket so that he's balanced in a very alluring pose.
“Ehm. Yeh.”
Steven goes to walk around him; is stopped by hand on his chest and a foot in his path. He looks up to meet that grin again, eyes that tell something else altogether.
“No.” Xabi barely whispers, hand clenched in Steven’s shirt, gazing at his mouth and the scent of alcohol is somewhat stronger now to Steven. He can virtually taste it himself as he inhales deeply.
“I have other plans for you.”
Stevie notices the living room is in darkness now, the television off and the lights in the kitchen cabinets dimmed down low. He swallows somewhat nervously as he catches the glint in Xabi’s eyes who quickly turns away; determined to quell the giddy smile his face tells of.
Xabi opens his bedroom door, also bathed in darkness Stevie notes as he reaches for the light switch. Xabi’s fingers clench around his wrist however, preventing any more movement.
“No,” a vibration of air against his earlobe.
He can’t see a fucking thing as he’s nudged gently to where he knows Xabi’s bed is, he can barely (just barely) make out the books scattered on Xabi’s table from the thin streak of moonlight and streetlights that filter through the curtains.
He feels the back of knees hit the mattress before he himself is pushed onto it, his back pressed against it as he’s nudged further up the bed.
However he doesn’t feel the press of the other body against his like he usually does; simply feels the sudden coolness of the air hitting his chest as his shirt is peeled off.
“Just. Lay still,” almost a command from the Spaniard as he walks over to the wardrobe to retrieve something.
Stevie’s never felt so restless on Xabi’s bed before now; never felt so restless ever in fact.
He feels a whole lot worse when Xabi comes back and he feels his right arm being yanked above his head and the tight pull of fabric around his wrist.
“Xabi seriously? What the...?"
Xabi just laughs, low and dark as he reaches for the other one before Steven can snatch it away from him.
Stevie tugs experimentally at the ties, finds they aren’t even loose in the slightest.
Fuck.
He didn’t even know Xabi liked this sort of thing.
Then again they never varied much from their routine.
Kiss. Fuck. Go home.
The occasional blow job in the showers after training, not much else.
Never this.
He feels Xabi lean over him now, the bed shift as his weight presses down into the mattress.
He can feel the breath against his face, the eyes drawing ever closer before Xabi leans over to switch on the lamp.
Steven can finally see again; see the glint in Xabi’s eyes fully now and the disheveled and simply filthy look on his face.
“Please. What are you doing? Xabi…” he’s pleading now. His heart beat speeding up as Xabi tilts his head, smiles almost malevolently.
“I wanted to try something new. Different. Change is good Gerrard.” He leans down, presses his lips against Steven’s throat and revels in the nervous hum under the skin.
“Hm. Xabi I don’t know if…” he’s cut short when he feels Xabi’s jaw open and a set of teeth sink neatly into the soft skin there.
Steven yelps, pushes up in hope of trying to force him off. No such luck.
Xabi presses him into the mattress with his hips, firm and hard (being the appropriate word). He runs his tongue over the vicious red marks forming there, breathes over them, gentle and hot.
His mouth travels further down, onto his chest pressing his tongue to nipples that harden instantly, sensitive to any sort of touch. Steven hisses as he feels Xabi blow cold air over one.
“Ok. Maybe you could untie me now we've experimented a bit yeh?” Steven is pleading now, eyes wide with what could be lust or anxiety (most probably both).
He makes a high pitched whimpering sound as Xabi presses his hand between his legs, tongue poking out mischievously between his teeth and the sight Steven flashes straight to his cock.
He still hasn’t worked out himself why he’s doing this; forcing Stevie into a situation he clearly doesn’t want to be in – yet. Maybe he just enjoys having the upperhand; the power he almost never gets.
Steven finds himself wracking his mind for excuses for tomorrow about the ferocious red teeth marks on his neck as he feels Xabi tracing patterns on his stomach, it only mildly distracts him as he thinks of various methods involving scarves and high necked jumpers.
He can feel the wet kisses being littered over his stomach better now; thinks that this might not be so bad if it weren’t for the amount of alcohol in Xabi’s system which has apparently turned him into some sort of, anti-Xabi. Oh and minus the ties that keep him chained to the headboard, that would make Steven feel a lot safer too.
“Christ Xabi come on.” Steven doesn’t know what he’s begging for; to be let go or for Xabi to hurry the hell up and fuck him and get it over with.
Xabi crawls back up his body, threads his fingers delicately through the other one’s hair and kisses him on the mouth, almost tender and its like a different person again.
Steven is afraid to move in fear of awakening the other Xabi again.
Too late though.
He feels teeth again, this time the side of his neck.
“Fuck,” a yelp and he feels Xabi smirk against his neck.
He breathes heavily, feels Xabi slither down his body again, fingers stroking at his thigh, a mouth pressed gently against the sore inner muscle there.
Steven sighs; finally content with something tonight. Wants to reach down and stroke the other one’s hair, clenches his fingers in frustration as he feels the ties around the taut bones there.
He feels Xabi breath over his cock, squirms into the sheets and tilts his hips up in search of friction or anything that will relieve him.
Xabi’s fingers tug at the hem of his boxers, ever so gently pulling them down and freeing him from the intense heat there and he gasps as he feels a tongue run over the head of his cock.
But Xabi only pulls away, tugs his legs apart and kneels between them, slowly unbuttoning his own shirt. He looks up at Steven from under hooded lids, hair falling over his face in an utterly seductive manner and Stevie can’t help but gulp slightly.
He wants to sit up so badly, to rip Xabi’s hands away and strip the man in front of him a lot faster. He watches, can feel his mind almost spinning away from him along with all other logical thought as he watches Xabi pop the button on his jeans. Long fingers trail along the zip and Stevie’s breath gets heavier as he waits for what is to be revealed.
He throws his head back onto the pillow; the mere tension in the air and the pain in his neck forcing him to stop. Though he can’t tear his eyes away for long as cranes his head forward again to watch as Xabi pulls down his own boxers, strokes himself ever so slowly.
Steven moans nudges his lower body slightly towards the other one’s body heat, Xabi only grins; less intent in the smile now. He leans down and kisses him properly before he reaches over to the bedside cabinet. Stevie follows his hand with his eyes. Feels a sense of anxious relief as he anticipates what’s to come.
He feels Xabi drag his nails down his stomach, winces slightly as he feels the burning sensation rip through the soft flesh there and his eyes widen when he watches as Xabi produces tequila instead of what Stevie expected to be lubricant.
He watches fascinated as Xabi pours some into the cap before drizzling it down his stomach, it burns but then the other man soothes it with his tongue, long sweeping motions and Stevie finds himself so much more relaxed now. Despite the vicious red marks on his neck and the purple bruises that are bound to be there on his wrists in the morning.
“Please.” He breathes against Xabi’s hair again as the other man licks at his neck, the stench of the alcohol all-consuming in the room.
Xabi growls against his neck before he screws the lid on the bottle and throughs it on the clothes on the floor.
And he finally gets what he wants. Xabi fucks him into the matress, headboard thumping once or twice off the wall and Stevie's fingers turn white from clenching it so very hard.
Xabi unties him after the sweat has cooled and Steven's arms feel like they might just fall off. They lay in silence after that till Xabi claps a hand over Stevie's waste and onto his wrists and soothes them his fingers.
"Experiments aren't that bad really you know."