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Milan, May 28th, 2016.
Sergio couldn't sleep.
He had been twisting and turning in his hotel bed all night, aching for some rest. Praying to God to let him sleep, knowing that if they would win tonight, he would be an utter wreck in the upcoming days.
They would celebrate the win all night long, fly back to Madrid and take the trophy to Cibeles, never getting a moment of rest during all the craziness. If they lost, however, then he would not be able to sleep through the night either. Then he would be occupied with comforting his upset teammates and staff members.
He had never been this nervous about an upcoming match. Not when he got himself ready for the World Cup final against the Dutch in 2010. Not during the last final two years ago in Lisbon.
This was the one game that he was dreading above everything else. Because this game would be on him. If they would lose then it would be his responsibility. Not Iker's.
Usually, he had always felt semi-responsible whenever they lost a game when Iker was still around, seeing how he was the second captain and it was also his duty to keep everyone in line.
But now. Now everything was on him.
If he wouldn't be able to focus his teammates and stimulate them to play the game of their lives, they would surely lose.
And there was no Iker to take the fall for him this time. It would all boil down to him. The pressure of that realization had kept him awake all night, plaguing his mind.
The fact that Iker would also be watching them from the stands didn't exactly help either. For Sergio it only added more pressure onto his heart, making him feel like Atlas, the ancient Titan who was forced to balance the weight of the world onto his shoulders.
They had to win this game.
For everyone's sake. But if he was really honest with himself, Sergio was absolutely terrified that they would lose. Somehow he had an awful feeling about the game.
He knew that Atletico was a lot stronger than they had been two years ago, and the fact that Atletico would never go down without a fight to the death was not a very appealing predicament.
A grunt from the bed to his left startled him out of his musings.
He turned to his side and stared at his sleeping teammate.
Marcelo's curls peeked above the blanket and his chest was heaving up and down steadily. The fact that Marcelo was able to sleep through the night didn't surprise Sergio.
Marcelo had always been like a careless child with a clean conscience. He had his troubles, just like everyone else, but most of the time he didn't worry as much as most people did. He simply shut his big, cheerful, brown eyes and slept.
Sergio had always envied that about him.
That he was able to hide his shit so well. He took his phone from the nightstand and read a few old texts between him and Iker, feeling nostalgic due to the thought of him.
When he had nearly brought himself to tears he shoved the phone under his pillow, feeling his heartache at the memory of everything that was pure Iker.
Iker shouting at him whenever he had done something wrong on the pitch, Iker who bickered about literally everything with him, just to spite him.
Iker who had held onto him for dear life when they had lost the Dortmund game and missed the final, whispered comforting words into his ear, promising him that they would make it the next year, which they had.
Iker who'd kissed him on his cheek after he had saved him during the last Champions League final, thanking him over and over, nearly making Sergio cry.
How they had won the cup and embraced one another ever so tightly, only to argue over something futile a second later. The steamy sex they had in their hotel room shower when they were gathering their belongings to fly back to Madrid.
Sergio missed everything about Iker.
Sometimes when his head was completely full and flustered, he still walked to Iker's old locker whenever the team gathered in the dressing room for a speech, as if a part of him still thought that Iker's name and photo would still linger on the door.
He always halted with a surprised gasp whenever he saw Keylor's friendly face sitting in the exact spot where Iker had always sat, raising a dark eyebrow at Sergio, kindly asking him what he wanted. Sergio used to sigh hopelessly at that and stepped back to his own locker, anxiously trying to come up with a fitting speech himself. Two years ago on the night before the final, he had shared his room with Iker, who had screwed his brains out in order to help him sleep. Which had worked like a charm.
Now he was laying there with Marcelo beside him, feeling empty and miserably alone.
He took hold of his phone again and slid through some old pictures of him and Iker. He snorted when he saw his long hair tugged away under his headband. Shit, he had truly looked ridiculous like that.
God how young they had been. He nearly knew Iker for ten years but sometimes it felt like a lifetime.
Frankly, he could barely remember even what his life had been like before Iker had entered it, messing everything up. In all the best and worst ways possible.
When he grew weary and depressed of staring at the photo his fingers drifted off to the contact list, hovering automatically over Iker's name. He gazed at the alarm clock, knowing that it was still impossibly early, but he called the number nonetheless. Fuck it. He had woken Iker multiple times before this and he had always forgiven him. What was one more time?
After four beeps Iker finally picked up. ''This better be good,'' his sleepy voice growled.
''I'm sorry but I didn't-know who else to dial,'' Sergio said thickly.
Christ, he was already stammering like an idiot again. How the hell did Iker do that? How did he always manage to steal all of Sergio's common sense away with the simple sound of his delicious, seductive voice?
Iker snorted on the other end of the line. ''Hmm, what's the matter?''
''I just, honestly I don't know,''
''You don't know? You're waking me for something that you don't know? Come on Nene, it's fucking four-thirty!'' Iker complained, sounding awfully aggravated already.
''I just-I missed you that's all,'' Sergio admitted, whispering softly not to wake Marcelo.
''Why exactly are you whispering?''
''Marcelo is asleep beside me,''
''Marcelo? Why isn't he with Pepe?''
''Because Cris wanted to room with Pepe today, and seeing how nobody else was volunteering to take Marcelo as usual, I took him,'' Sergio snorted.
Marcelo was quite possibly the most popular man in the team and everyone loved and adored him to death.
But when it came to rooming with him, everyone avoided him like the plague. Mostly because he had lots of annoying habits, like talking to his friends on the phone for hours, listening to loud music until the middle of the night, and snoring like a trucker.
Oh, and he sleepwalked around in his room at some night ( sometimes even stepping into the hallway, ending up snoozing on the floor ), kicking his unconscious teammates against the shins or falling down on top of them, cuddling up behind them when he was dreaming about Clarice. He had done that to Fabio once, much to the Portuguese dismay. Isco, however, had gladly taken photos of them and sent them to everyone in their group app.
Pepe was usually the only one who could endure Marcelo's endless craziness but Cristiano had demanded that Pepe be in his room for the night, knowing that he needed his rest to perform. And to keep his teammates happy for when Cris missed out on sleep, he got unbearably cranky and took to whining about everything.
''Hmm obviously nobody volunteered to watch him, after what happened with Fabio. But it's good that you're watching him,'' Iker retorted.
''Yes well, I don't really have much of a choice now, do I? Being the captain and all that. Everyone and everything is my responsibility after all,''
''True, so what is it that you want Sese?'' Iker asked, his voice not unkind, for which Sergio was grateful.
Sergio resisted the urge to say 'you' and swallowed thickly. ''I don't know. I just wish you were here with me. I miss the sound of your voice,''
He heard Iker swallow thickly. ''I can't come over,''
''Why not? You're in Milan aren't you?''
''Yes, but I'm nowhere near your hotel, nor am I in the mood to get dressed and get into a taxi at this hour,''
Sergio's eyes narrowed as he felt jealousy rising up in his chest, constricting him. ''Is Sara with you or something?''
''No, and this is not about her. I just cannot come over,'' Iker replied firmly.
''Actually, you can. You are just choosing not to,''
Iker laughed humorlessly. ''Well I believe I still have that right don't I?''
''Of course, you do, but then I have the right to call you a selfish bastard if you make that choice. I always did everything for you Iker, and the one time that I actually need you, you're not there for me. What the fuck is up with that? Don't you get it? This is the first final that I have to play without you by my side. Without looking to you for advice, seeing how you were not only the love of my life but also my captain.
The one I trusted above everyone else. I'm freaking terrified of doing this without you. If we lose then it will all fall down on me. I can't fail them. The fans, the staff, or my teammates. And you're not here. Whenever I kiss Keylor's cheek before a match a little part of me literally dies, do you know that? Because he isn't you! And I hate him a little bit for that, despite the fact that it was you who left me behind and not him and nothing about it is his fault. I need you here as soon as possible. So get your beautiful ass into a fucking taxi and meet me on the fifteenth floor, room twenty. See you in a bit,'' Sergio said and he slipped his finger over the screen, ending the call abruptly.
He threw the phone onto the nightstand and exhaled, feeling shivers travelling over his spine.
God that had felt absolutely amazing, to finally be able to tell Iker exactly how abandoned he had felt since he had left. How much his departure had scorned him in his soul.
He felt a bit lighter somehow, but that was quickly ruined by the pool of guilt that spread to his stomach.
''Are you okay?'' Marcelo's small voice quipped and Sergio turned to his left to stare at his friend, reaching over to the bed and clasping Marcelo's hand into his own. ''I'm fine, sorry for waking you,''
''It's all right, was that Iker?'' Marcelo asked tentatively, as his thumb slid over the palm of Sergio's hand. ''It was,'' Sergio admitted.
''Is he coming over?''
''He probably is, yes,'' Sergio said, feeling quite certain that his little rant had actually worked.
''Good, then perhaps you will finally stop sulking over him,'' Marcelo grinned as he released Sergio's hand and folded his arm under his head. His fingers ran absent-mindedly through his hair, mostly due to the simple fact that Marcelo was just not able to ever sit still.
The only time he did was when he was asleep and even then he usually twisted around relentlessly in his sleep.
Sergio shook his head, protesting. ''Bitch, please! I do not sulk,''
Marcelo rolled his eyes at him. ''God you gripe over Iker the entire fucking day. The funny thing is that you don't even realize that you're doing it. Everything you do or say somehow revolves around Iker,''
Sergio pondered that statement for a while. Was Marcelo right? Had he really been that obvious about his feelings toward Iker's departure?
''Have I really been that bad?'' he asked, insecure.
Marcelo arose from his bed and sat down on the blanket placing his warm hand to Sergio's cheek. ''It's not bad, but to everyone who knows you, it has been really obvious. I'm not saying anything negative about it. I mean you love Iker, we all know that. And being apart from him is hurting you. We all understand that. But yes to me it was really clear that you are sulking about Iker for most of the days.
I also know that you secretly hate being the captain. Because you feel like it isn't your place but Iker's.
It took you a while to adapt to your new role, but eventually, you got there and I really think that you're a great captain, truly. And I'm certain that Iker feels the same way,''
Sergio gnawed on his lower lip like he always did when he was nervous. ''I just want to make Iker proud today,''
''And he will be, regardless of the result,'' Marcelo hummed wisely.
Sergio leaned forward and embraced the Brazilian tightly. ''Thank you, Marce,''
Marcelo stroked his back comforting and winked. ''Welcome, but if you don't mind I'm getting out of here as soon as possible. I have no desire to watch you two rekindle your passion,''
''Where will you go?'' Sergio asked.
''Luka's room, he had no roommate tonight and he's such a deep sleeper that he probably won't even notice my presence until he wakes up anyway,''
''Really? What about Kova?''
''He's busy holding that movie marathon that Isco has organized. Last I heard they were hosting it in Dani and Jese's room with all the other night owls,'' Marcelo explained. He stretched himself lazily, packed his bag, kissed Sergio's cheek and left him alone.
When the door shut behind him Sergio fell back down to his mattress, resting his sleep-deprived head against the pillow.
He knew he had been unreasonable to Iker on the phone.
He should not have resented Iker so much for leaving Madrid, seeing how he knew that it was the best decision Iker had made in a while.
Sergio knew better than anyone exactly how unhappy Iker had been the last years in the capital. How much energy it had cost him to deal with all the drama that revolved around him since Mourinho had come to the club.
And yet when Iker told him that he was leaving, Sergio could only think about how much he would lose with his departure. How much it would cost him?
He knew that Iker could not stay just for him, but a small part of him wished that he would. That he would simply quit his career, and dump Sara out of his life to just be with him, openly.
Without any shame or perseverance.
Never hesitating about what it would do to their careers if the world would find out.
But Iker had always been afraid for the truth to be unleashed onto the world. He always had been. Sergio couldn't care less about the whole world knowing that he was Iker's, but Iker never fully committed himself to Sergio. Sergio knew that Iker loved him, in his own way, but it stung that he could never be in a real relationship with him. That he had to settle for stolen glances, hidden touches, and making love in secret locations. Just once he would love to walk over the pavement of the Gran Via, holding hands with the man that he loved, but he had learned long ago that that was never going to happen.
Not as long as Iker was still afraid of the media finding about them.
Their girlfriends knew the truth of course. Had known for years but neither one of them had ever objected. But now that Iker was living in Porto, their relationship had complicated itself even further. The last time they had been together had been with the Spanish national team, many months ago. And even then, they hadn't shared a room or spent any quality time together.
Sergio had gotten a brief hug and an occasional squeeze to his hand but that had pretty much been it, much to his disappointment.
His mother had always urged him never to settle for being someone's plaything, but against Iker, Sergio had no defence. Whenever Iker touched him, he fell back into the rabbit hole, loving every minute of the tumble.
After the longest half hour of his life, there was finally a soft knock on his door. Sergio jerked himself up as quick as he could and practically ran to the door, swinging it open, revealing a pale-looking Iker in the doorway. He was wearing a dark blue pair of jeans, complete with a black jacket and his favourite black shoes. Fuck he was bloody gorgeous.
''Iker,'' Sergio gasped, feeling very much like he had when he had met Iker for the first time when he had been a mere teenager. They had met during a call-up for La Roja.
Iker had shaken his hand and grinned at him with his broad smile and gleaming hazelnut eyes and from that moment Sergio had been completely lost in him.
When Sergio kept on staring at him, Xavi had made an awkward joke asking him if there had been something in Iker's teeth and the two of them had walked away together, grinning like schoolboys, not even bothering to wait for a reply. However as they walked off, Iker had turned his head to look back at Sergio.
Sergio mostly remembered that he had never seen anyone as beautiful as Iker. Despite the fact that he had worked with some insanely attractive players over the years. Men like Cristiano, Fabio Cannavaro, David Beckham and Guti. Sergio had only ever had eyes for Iker.
''Can I come in?'' Iker asked impatiently. Sergio wanted to move to the side to let him in, he truly did, but instead slammed right into Iker's embrace, burying himself as deep as he could against Iker's shoulders.
He heard all the air being knocked out of Iker's lungs due to the sudden movements but he didn't care about that.
He needed Iker to be closer. Even the warmth of the constricting embrace wasn't nearly enough to make up for all the time they had lost.
''Nene, you're suffocating me,'' Iker groaned into his neck. ''I don't care,'' Sergio spat out hoarsely, as furious tears started prickling in his ears.
The familiar scent of Iker's Armani cologne reached Sergio's nose and he shivered content.
Fuck he had even missed Iker's perfume. This was getting utterly ridiculous.
''Hmm, god you smell so nice,'' he murmured in Iker's ear, as he pressed a small, needy kiss to Iker's neck, making the older man shiver due to the gesture.
Iker's slender hands roamed over his back, callously slipping under Sergio's shirt to feel the smooth, supple skin of his back.
The goalkeeper could not resist a desperate groan as his digits finally connected with Sergio's creamy, sun-kissed skin. ''Fuck, you feel-'' he exasperated and he pulled himself back, locking his eyes with Sergio's.
Their lips smashed together and Sergio kissed Iker desperately, smelling and tasting and feeling everything that he had missed so, so much. Iker took less than a second to get over the shock and returned the kiss, fiercely and open.
He slid his tongue against Sergio's, and Sergio arched his head to press even closer, wanting more and more.
He buried himself down into Iker, trying to rearrange his legs for maximal contact.
Iker's trembling hands had slid to his shoulders, fisting into his sleeves.
Sergio trailed his open fingers across Iker's heaving chest, running up and down between them and remembering everything. Iker tasted sort of like steak, and the thought of him eating food that Sergio hadn't bought for him made Sergio inordinately livid.
The thought that Iker had showered without him this morning bothered him.
The thought that he and Iker had been apart for such long months made Sergio want to cry. Iker’s slightly overgrown stubble tickled his chin, and his hands were almost too rough, just as desperate. Sergio did not want to ever, ever let go. But he would have to, soon enough.
Sergio eagerly tugged Iker inside the hotel room and shut the door behind them with a bang, leading Iker to his bed, never once breaking the needy contact of their lips.
When he peeked through his eyelashes at his lover's face he noticed that Iker looked about ready to burst but equally as likely to cry.
Sergio understood the feeling.
He leaned forward to kiss Iker deeper again, and Iker’s fingers fisted in the back of his hair, holding him in. He kissed Iker so hard he feared he might ruin them both.
His lips parted and worked against Iker’s. Their tongues battled, both urgent as well as lazy. It felt so right again that he didn’t know what to do with himself.
For a while, they just kissed, over and over, heads tilting and noses brushing, cheeks glowing and eyes closed. Just sharing at the moment, to be back together again, like it should be.
Then Iker ran his other hand down Sergio’s back, reaching his waist, grinding them together.
Sergio hadn't even meant to start anything this intense, but now that the air was thickening around them, there would be no stopping them any longer.
He couldn't help it. He needed all of Iker all over again. Time apart had been such a waste. He didn’t even care if his mind was fucked up any longer.
Christ, there really wasn’t enough room on the narrow bed.
Sergio stared at Iker, locking their eyes together as his tongue started saying all the things he should have told Iker on the day that he left his life. "Save me from being alone," he groaned huskily. "And don’t you dare say anything about finding someone else, I don’t want anyone else. I wanted you every moment I didn’t have you,"
Iker unbuttoned Sergio’s trousers slower than he could stand, and he hurried to return the favour but stopped dead when he realized he needed it all off. Iker kicked his shoes off and Sergio heard them dropping to the carpet with two soft thuds.
He shoved Iker up with all his strength, and before Iker could react, Sergio was yanking the blouse right off his head, carelessly tossing it aside.
Iker practically tore Sergio's white shirt off his broad shoulders and Sergio lifted up to kiss him.
He ran his tongue along Iker’s collarbone and all down to Iker’s chest.
He kissed Iker’s nipples and sucked them hungrily into his mouth, feeling Iker shudder with pleasure that he only saved for Sergio.
When he eagerly bit in one of the hard buds, Iker trembled uncontrollably, mumbling all sorts of swear words.
Sergio didn’t even care that he heard a seam split in Iker's pants, it didn’t matter. Iker collapsed back down on top of him, grinding hard enough to bruise both their thighs.
Sergio could care less, in fact, the markings that Iker left on him always turned him on. Let the whole world know that I belong to him, he thought. He wanted Iker to fuck him everywhere. He raked his nails down Iker’s back, marvelling at all the smoothness.
When his fingers reached Iker’s hips, he started shoving off the denim, but he kept getting distracted by the sheer urge to feel Iker's ass.
"I’m so glad you came," Sergio hissed, as he finally got Iker's trousers down far enough for Iker's cock to tumble out, hard, red and pulsing with need. Sergio pumped it once before lifting up to pull Iker’s trousers the rest of the way down, the underwear caught inside them.
He threw all the fabric aside, leaving Iker completely bare, exposed, and hungry.
He wrapped his legs back around Iker’s body, rutting his ass into his crotch shamelessly.
Sergio could only get his own trousers down to his thighs before he gave up and moved on to other things, for he needed his hands to feel Iker’s cock. It was just as beautiful and big as he remembered it.
It was long, thick, and slightly curved. It was perfect, and he wanted it inside him so badly that he could burst.
His heart was hammering mercilessly in his ears. Or maybe in his pants. Sergio didn’t care.
He lifted his own fingers up to his mouth and starts sucking on them wildly, trying to get as much saliva on them as possible. He needed to take Iker without too much pain.
Iker looked at him with mingled confusion and lust, and as soon as Sergio's fingers were adequately soaking, he ran them down his body, past his own cock. He dipped them between the curve of his ass and found his own hole, legs bending back so far that his knees hit his shoulders.
He had a bottle of lube in the nightstand but he very much preferred to give Iker a good show, letting him know precisely what he had missed.
Iker pulled back to watch him rapturously, completely mesmerized, and Sergio fingered himself too fast. He could feel it in his own tight, puckered entrance.
He tried to stretch it apart with his fingertips, before forcing the blunt head of his index finger in. It was too big, and he grunted, but he refused to stop. He pushed harder, further, until it slipped inside.
The saliva helped but wasn’t quite enough. He forced it in and out gently, attempting to rub the furrowed muscles soothingly apart. Iker grumbled. "You’re so fucking hot,"
Sergio added another finger before he was ready. It made his own cock wilt a little, and it stung. He tried to stretch himself, tried to scissor his hole, but he couldn’t get them very far.
Without thinking it over, he begged. “Iker, spit on me,” and then he blushed furiously at what he had just said. But he would not take it back. He looked at Iker so full of yearning that his lover visibly trembled. Iker shifted even closer to him, turning Sergio to his stomach, and making him whimper with need.
Then he leaned forward, and put both hands on either one of Sergio's inner thighs, spreading his legs.
Iker lowered his head between Sergio’s legs, and Sergio shivered wildly when Iker’s tongue suddenly swept across his fingers and hole.
Another lick and Sergio’s mouth tumbled open, gasping and crying out. Iker didn't remove Sergio’s fingers but instead lapped at the puckered ring they were stretching, poking and tasting, and wetting. Sergio could actually feel Iker’s cool saliva trickling all over him, running down his burning crack.
He pulled his fingers out on sheer instinct, and the next minute, Iker’s big tongue was plunging deep inside his hole. Sergio arched and whined wildly, trying not to scream like he needed to. He could feel Iker’s hot mouth around him.
The soft lips locked around his hole and hard teeth were scraping him lightly. Iker’s spongy tongue couldn’t reach as far as his fingers, but it felt so much better than Sergio’s hole twitched on its own accord.
It almost felt like Iker was eating him, and Iker sucked at the outside while his tongue ravished Sergio inside. It was far too much pleasure and he almost came on the spot. Sergio shot his hand down and clamped his fingers down around the head of his cock, he could not let this end. Not yet.
When something harder and far blunter wriggled inside, Sergio lost it. Iker's fingers and tongue were inside of him at the same time. He then lifted his other hand and gently squeezed the base of Sergio’s cock. Sergio held the head tighter-he was so impossibly close. Iker got two fingers inside of him easily.
Sergio’s ass spasmed around them, warm and wet and open.
The third finger barely even burned, and Iker stroked his cock, sucking so hard that any pain there would ebb away. Sergio’s brain had erupted into a tidal wave of liquid pleasure. It took him a minute to realize that he had been moaning, "Iker," over and over again.
When Iker's tongue finally left his ass, Sergio could cry. He really could. But then Iker was lingering above him, pumping his fat cock and leering down at him.
Sergio turned to his side to really admire the sight, feeling heat pool in his stomach. It was the single hottest thing that Sergio had ever seen. He started begging helplessly. "Make love to me, please, want you so bad..." Iker turned him back to his stomach and lined himself up with Sergio.
And finally, fucking finally, he felt Iker’s tip pressing into his reddened hole, making him gasp, as he threw his head back against the cushions. "Ohhh, yesss..."
He wanted to hold Iker, but he knew if he let go of his cock, he was bound to explode.
So he only used one hand to reach back, feverishly touching Iker everywhere he could. Iker leaned over him, kissing Sergio’s cheek, holding him tightly in his secure arms.
Sergio couldn’t care less where that mouth had been, he turned his head into it. He wrapped his free arm backwards around Iker’s back and pulled him down, kissing hard. Iker parted his lips to hiss, "I love you Nene,"
Then he finally thrust in completely, all the way up, and Sergio absolutely shrieked, arching his back as his nails tore into Iker’s skin.
Iker’s cock filled him up completely, fuller than he even thought was possible.
It hit that perfect spot immediately and wanton pleasure erupted all over, setting him on fire at every last cell of his being. Fuck how he had missed this.
He had missed it far too much. He hadn’t felt this complete since Iker had left, and now everything seemed to make sense again.
Iker took a few seconds to adjust himself, leaving Sergio a writhing mess. "Oh yes, right there..." His eyes rolled in his head, his toes curling and his heels were digging into the mattress.
One of Iker’s hands had snuck down to Sergio’s cock, laying thickly between their sweaty bodies, and Sergio groaned annoyed. "No need to hold back, you won't break me..."
"I know," Iker whispered, his voice a mere memory of the shrill one he had used to coach Sergio. He kissed the side of Sergio's face again. "It’s okay, I’ve got it," Sergio told him with a nod to his cock and as he let go, Iker immediately grabbed it in his hand.
Squeezing it deliciously hard. Sergio’s hand darted to catch up with everything they had missed so intently.
He ran his fingers straight up to Iker’s chest, tugging at the hair at the back of his neck and raking over his shoulders. Iker shakily breathed out, "Can’t move or I’ll come... wanted you so bad, waited so long..."
Sergio understood that better than anyone. But he still whimpered a bossy, "Move," and tried to wriggle his hips. Grunting, Iker finally complied.
He never had been very good at denying Sergio anything in bed.
Besides, all Sergio ever wanted to do was to make Iker feel wonderful. Iker pulled out shallowly and slammed back in before he got so much as halfway out, but it was still enough to make Sergio groan with pleasure.
It was enough to make him buck into it. Iker did it again, and then again, hips working up a steady pace, thrusting hard into Sergio’s pliant body, over and over again until the world around them no longer seemed to exist.
Iker kissed him everywhere he could reach, peppering his back with sucking lips and held Sergio's cock tight, thumbing the slit and swirling the precum around. Sergio held onto him for dear life and kissed him back, wrenching Iker’s lips back to his when they strayed.
He needed to be able to open his eyes and see Iker.
He kissed Iker again and again, sometimes rough and frantic, other times slow and gentle. It was romantic and raunchy and everything. He was so overwhelmed that his head started spinning. He might have been crying, but he wasn’t quite sure what for.
"God I missed you so much," Iker repeated between kisses. He was bearing down on Sergio and it was impossibly warm; sweat slicks their bodies together. One of his arms wrapped under Sergio, clasping onto his chest, hoisting him up and forcing them even closer.
"I missed you," Sergio moaned. "Fuck I love you, I love you..."
Right before Iker came, he smashed their mouths together. It cut off Sergio’s air and his heartbeat went wild pulse racing. He could actually feel Iker tensing inside of him. Iker’s hips stop, grinding Sergio down into the bed, cock spurting everywhere.
Sergio could feel it swelling inside of him, filling him up and dripping all over.
He didn’t want to let Iker pull out, didn’t want the moment to pass. The second Iker's fingers loosened around Sergio’s cock, he exploded, soaking his blanket and a part of his chest and coating Iker’s hand.
Stars erupted behind his eyes and he screamed so loud that he was certain Pepe and Cristiano had heard him in the room next to his, "Iker!" he cried out, loud and long, right into his lover's lips.
He held Iker fiercely down on top of his back, wanting to meld them together so that Iker couldn't ever leave him again.
Everything was on fire and it felt so damn good.
The pleasure nearly caused him to pass out. His breathing was a hysterical mess, trapped against Iker’s heaving body, but he did not ever want to let go. It was the best orgasm he'd ever had, or probably reckoned he would ever have.
It was more ecstasy than any one person should be able to feel. He did not want it to ever, ever stop.
And it didn’t stop, not really. It ebbed slowly into blissful contentment as he collapsed back against the cushions. Iker was slumping heavily atop of him, but Sergio had missed his skin so relentlessly that he would rather die than ever ask him to get off.
Iker’s skin was just as warm and just as slick as he had remembered, and gratefully, he didn't even try to pull out. Sergio slowly lowered his hands to Iker’s ass, just in case.
Iker buried his head against Sergio’s shoulder.
For a moment, they both seem to be struggling for breath. The hotel room was quiet now until they heard a door open a few rooms from theirs.
Probably Pepe and Cristiano, trying to make a run for it, Sergio thought with a broad smile.
He was surely going to pay for having Iker over on the day of the final, but right now, he couldn't care less.
Iker sighed deeply onto his shoulder. "I’m still yours," he mumbled stubbornly.
Sergio took a deep breath before mumbling, "I know. I’m yours, too,"
As Iker finally slipped out of Sergio's slack body, he wiped them clean with a towel from the bathroom. Afterwards, he snuck into bed, curling up behind Sergio, holding him tightly in his arms.
''Hey Iker?''
''Hm?'' Iker's voice told Sergio that he was nearly asleep, like always after an orgasm.
''What if we lose tonight? What if I fail everyone?''
Iker turned him around in his arms and tugged Sergio's face to his warm chest. ''You won't,''
''How can you be so sure about that?'' Sergio sighed.
''Because I have faith in you, and I know that you will fight until the last second to save this team. If things go amiss, it won't be your fault. Besides, if we don't win then I'll be here. I promise,'' Iker assured him, as he plastered his lips to Sergio's sticky forehead, pulling him impossibly close.
He let them rest there for a long time and Sergio felt a blissful wave of slumber washing over him, capturing him until he finally found some rest in the arms of his last true love.
The following day, Real Madrid won another Champions League.