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Steven juggled his bags to dig for the keys to his home that were deep in one pocket of his slacks. It was dark and the rest of the street was quiet, all of the other residents having long since gone to bed. His hopes for the Euro tournament had ended in penalty-fueled flames against Italy. He had worked so hard for what could be his last chance at a Euro trophy and watched helplessly as Buffon had blocked those dreams with the penalty shots in the match. To make matters worse, Xabi had been oddly silent during the two weeks at the tournament. Steven hadn’t heard one word from him, and to be perfectly honest, he’d been terrified to contact Xabi for fear of what he would say. It was ridiculous really, because Steven was a warrior on the pitch but when it came to his heart – which utterly belonged to the Spanish midfielder – he was more cautious.
He pushed the door open with one hip and dropped one bag on the floor so that he could shut and lock the front door. Steven’s fingers had barely turned the lock when a whoosh of air rushed past him and he felt his back collide with a wall. His keys clattered to the floor along with the other bag as strong fingers dug into his collar and warm lips crashed into his.
“What – ” he began to ask but the other man spoke first.
Just one word. The only word Steven wanted to hear really – his name, whispered and full of need.
“Stevie.”
“What are you doing here, Xabi?”
“I had to see you.”
“You had two weeks during the tournament,” Steven said, one hand settling on the other man’s hip while trying to keep the hurt tone out of his voice.
“I know and I’m sorry. But you know how crazy our schedules were and we were in different cities for most of it. Besides, the press would have had a field day had they caught us together. I wanted to wait until after the tournament to see you. I thought we could go back to Spain or here together. But you left before I could get to you.”
Xabi’s fingers ghosted across the skin over Steven’s collarbone, sending chills down Steven’s spine. Steven kept silent, knowing that Xabi was mulling something over.
“What is it, Xabi?” he asked softly, his knuckles caressing Xabi’s beard.
“I – I need you,” Xabi admitted quietly. “I didn’t realize just how much until we won the tournament. Watching Nando with Olalla and the rest of the team with their families, I just – it hit me. I wanted you there. No one else but you in that moment. And you weren’t there. That’s why I’m here, Stevie. I need you more than I can say. You’re my home.”
He tenderly kissed the Englishman. “I love you,” he whispered against his lips.
Steven melted then, hearing Xabi’s confession. It had been a long time coming. He kissed Xabi then, deeply, and rested his forehead against Xabi’s, both men breathing heavily for a moment. Steven licked his lips, his heart leaping within his chest, a sense of peace and excitement all melded together racing through his veins
“Welcome home,” he whispered before tangling his fingers with Xabi’s and leading him down the hallway to his bedroom, the bags and keys forgotten on the floor.