Work Text:
Fermín was riding a high unlike anything else—because he just achieved something he didn’t think he was capable of; something he thought nigh impossible.
He’d just gotten his third goal of the season… and they’d only just completed their second match.
So had Raphina, Fermín thought as he undressed and headed to the showers. Three goals in two matches, just like Fermín—and very fitting for a captain.
His goals had been perfect. God, just thinking about it was enough to make Fermín’s cock twitch. His hand reached toward the shower handle with every intention of setting the water to cold, to calm himself down, but his body didn’t listen to him.
Fermín’s traitorous hand proceeded to wrap itself around his aching cock, and it felt so good he nearly banged his head against the shower tiles.
He closed his eyes and thought about Raphinha as he began to pump it slowly. He had no idea how long he stood there under the hot water, with one hand braced against the wall while the other worked his cock, but just before he reached the peak he heard the sound of the door opening behind him.
Fermín let go of his cock as if he’d been burned, and when he whipped around he was met with the sight of an equally naked Raphinha.
“What are you still doing here?” he asked in an embarrassingly high-pitched voice.
Raphinha raised his eyebrows. “I had a meeting with Flick after the post-match debrief, remember?”
“Oh,” Fermín said dumbly. He couldn’t fucking believe he’d forgotten that.
“Oh,” Raphinha echoed. He held Fermín’s gaze for a few beats before ever so slowly giving him a once over—and Fermín was almost positive there was at least a hint of hunger in his eyes.
Then, as if nothing was amiss, Raphinha made his way over to the shower three places down from Fermín. He turned the water on and groaned.
Fermín had to bite his lip to keep from whimpering. He wondered what it would sound like in his ear.
“I can feel you staring,” Raphinha said casually.
Fermín startled and fixed his attention back to the tiled wall in front of him.
Then it was Fermín’s turn to feel stared at. “I don’t mind,” Raphinha said.
Fermín whipped his attention to Raphinha and yes—that was definitely hunger in his eyes.
“The way you’re looking at me makes me think you want to fuck me,” he blurted.
It wasn’t at all what he’d wanted to say, and the shocked look in Raphinha’s eyes made Fermín want to disappear.
Then, between one blink and the next, the older man had Fermín crowded against the cold tiles of the wall. He had both hands on either side of Fermín’s head, trapping him in.
“You have no idea what you’re saying, little one,” Raphinha told him softly. “You’re riding the high of your goal—your goals. You don’t mean this.”
Raphinha wasn't wrong about that. But the matter of Fermín wanting Raphinha? That wasn’t news.
“You could ask Gavi, you know,” Fermín said suddenly. “He knows how much I want you. How much I’ve always wanted you.”
Which was absolutely true. Fermín honestly hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, he hadn’t planned to, but there was only so long he could keep everything bottled up.
(And not only was Gavi one of Fermín’s best friends, but Gavi had also chosen to confide in him about his own relationship with someone nearly twice his age—which made Fermín feel much better about wanting someone seven years older. Being in love with someone who didn’t want you was already hard enough without the whole age gap thing looming over his head.)
“Don’t talk about another man when we’re like this, Fermín,” Raphinha said, voice low and firm. It made Fermín shiver.
The look in the older man’s eyes and the possessiveness of the tone was enough to give Fermín just enough confidence to push his point.
A 50-50 chance was probably the best he’d ever get; in for a penny, in for a pound.
Fermín looked at Raphinha through his eyelashes and asked, as coy as he could manage, “Don’t you want me, papi?”
Raphinha groaned. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, pequeño,” he said, voice rough. “You have no idea the things I want to do to you.”
He didn’t say anything more, but the look in his eyes spoke plenty. When Fermín broke away from his gaze and tilted his head down, his breath caught.
The older man’s cock was large—dark and thick, almost intimidatingly so. Seeing the differences between them was almost overwhelming.
Fermín swallowed and looked back up at Raphinha. “I’d let you do anything,” he whispered shakily.
And it was true.
Raphinha brushed his knuckles against Fermín’s cheek. “And if I said I want you on your knees?”
Fermín fell onto them as if gravity claimed him; as if he was a puppet whose strings had been cut—and Raphinha’s mouth opened in clear astonishment.
“I said anything, remember?” Fermín asked him, nervous yet determined, “I meant it.”
Raphinha looked at him with a proud, soft smile as he carded his fingers through Fermín’s curls. It lit him up from the inside—and filled him with a little more confidence.
The older man’s cock was even larger up close, and for a moment all Fermín could do was stare at it.
Raphinha wrapped one hand around himself and stroked himself once; just enough to pull the hood back. Even so, it was with a gentle voice that he said, “You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. We can stop right now, baby—no anger, no irritation.”
Fermín’s heart lurched with so many different emotions that he couldn’t even identify them all; because the thing was that Fermín knew he wasn’t lying. He was positive that no matter how hard and aching Raphinha clearly was, he’d pull Fermín to his feet with no questions asked.
But that wasn’t what Fermín wanted. Not at all.
“I want this,” he whispered as he reached out and wrapped his hand around Raphinha’s cock.
Fermín started stroking the older man as he leaned in and gave a few cautious licks to the head before dragging the flat of his tongue from root to tip.
Raphinha groaned softly as buried his hands in Fermín’s hair, petting him. “That’s it, baby,” he gasped. “Take all the time you need.”
Despite the words, it was beyond obvious that Raphinha didn’t want him to take his time at all—he could feel his fingers, though still gentle, flexing on his head as if he was actively fighting the urge to fist Fermín’s hair tightly and fuck his mouth.
Fermín’s cock twitched at the idea, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that. Not yet. He doubled his efforts in an attempt to make up for it.
He swirled his tongue around the head, lapping up precome, and started to stroke Raphinha a little faster. Fermín wanted more—he needed more—and so he gathered up his courage and took Raphinha’s cock into his mouth as deep as he could manage.
“That’s good,” Raphinha groaned. “You’re doing so well.“
Fermín whined around his captain’s cock at the praise, and in response his grip on Fermín’s hair became so tight that his eyes watered. It was perfect.
“Now try and take me a little deeper, okay?” Raphinha asked. Fermín did, but he could only manage half an inch or so.
Raphinha, much to Fermín’s immense relief, seemed proud of him anyway. “There you go, pequeño,” he said. “God, your fucking mouth.”
Fermín took his own cock in his hand and started stroking himself desperately. He felt embarrassingly close already, but evidently so was Raphinha.
“You look just as perfect on your knees for me as you do playing for me,” Raphinha said as he started to stroke the area of his cock that didn’t fit in Fermín’s mouth.
It didn’t take very long for either of them to come after that. Fermín slumped forward and rested his head on Raphinha’s thigh as he tried to calm his racing heart.
After a moment, Raphinha reached down and helped pull Fermín to his feet. It was humiliating, but the second he was as close to steady as he could get, he all but melted into Raphinha.
The older man’s answering laugh was something that Fermín felt more than heard, but despite his amusement he nevertheless wrapped his arms around Fermín in return.
The only sound to be heard was the water spraying from Raphinha’s abandoned shower head and their breathing as they stood there got what could’ve been five minutes or five years.
Despite the importance and time sensitive nature of the question, Fermín still refused to remove his head from Raphinha’s neck as he asked, “What happens now?”
Raphinha placed a gentle kiss to the side of Fermín’s head. “What do you want to happen now?”
The question was so beyond unfair that Fermín pulled away to glare at him. The corners of Raphinha’s lips quirked.
Fermín decided it was time to employ that whole in for a penny, in for a pound thing again.
So he took a few steps back, looked into Raphinha’s eyes, and declared, “I love you.”
Raphinha went still.
He stared at Fermín for an excruciatingly long moment before nodding. “That’s good,” he said.
Fermín opened and closed his mouth, completely at a loss for words. “What does that even mean?” he screeched as he threw his arms out.
Raphinha closed the distance between them and caught Fermín’s face between both of his hands, fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck and palms pressed firmly on his cheeks. The grip was tight enough that Fermín couldn’t move even if he tried.
It was exactly the same way Raphinha had held him on the pitch earlier… and it felt just as good.
Raphinha huffed a laugh. “What,” he drawled. “Did you want me to tell you that I love you, too?”
“I mean, that would’ve been nice,” Fermín admitted.
Raphina huffed a laugh and pressed their foreheads together. "I love you,” he whispered.
Fermín cleared his throat. “That’s good,” he said weakly.
And honestly? It really fucking was.