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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Raúl/Fàbregas/Casillas
Feedback: Good lines, bad ones, etc.
Disclaimer: This is absolutely fiction and not real and I don’t know these people at all. Any resemblance to any real-life record company is completely accidental.
Notes: Happens between Paranoid and When I’m Gone. Title references the Alanis Morissette song.
Summary: Cesc finally gets laid while he’s in a state to remember it.
***
Since he was going back to work in the morning, Raúl had finally let Cesc go back to his own apartment. Much as he liked hanging with Iker, Cesc needed the clothes. And needed to make sure that plant his mom had given him hadn’t died; if it had, then the next time she visited, she’d take it as proof he still needed help taking care of himself and use that as an excuse to stay an extra week.
The plant was still alive. Beside it he found a slightly grimy flyer for a local salsa band with a note scrawled across the back: You owe me so much. I cleaned out your fridge, too, and ew, Cesc. Leo.
Grinning, Cesc tossed the flyer and watered the plant. Then he did a walk-around of the place. Everything was really dusty, but other than that, there wasn’t anything he needed to take care of…wait. He went back to the kitchen and checked the fridge. Then he smacked his hand to his face and groaned. “Oh, my God. Leo.”
Who when Cesc phoned him had nothing to say to his defense except: *It was green and fuzzy and it didn’t have a lid on it! Who knows how far it spread—I junked everything just in case. I mean, you just had the flu. You should be extra careful.*
Cesc hung up on him, thought a minute, and then called Raúl.
*Hello?* Iker said.
“Iker? What are—oh, is Raúl still over there?” Something pinched hard in Cesc’s midsection. He winced and pressed one hand to his belly, only to feel a growl come from it. “Isn’t he late for work? Did you start folding laundry with your shirt off again?”
Funny how blushes could come over phone lines, if somebody was embarrassed enough. *You know, his reaction to that worries me as much as it puzzles me. But no, actually. He somehow locked up his cell this morning and couldn’t get to his text messages, and he got so frustrated he just left it with me. I was just poking at it and suddenly it worked. If you need to get to him, he said to try his—*
“Oh, it’s not that important. It’s just that my friend who was watching my apartment totally cleaned out my fridge, so I was trying to figure out what to do about dinner. I’ll just get take-out,” Cesc said. He peered up at the stack of menus on top of his fridge, then picked out the brightest one. It turned out to be for a Moroccan place, which was…yeah, that’d be fine. “I was hoping Raúl had leftovers he could send over or something. He usually does.”
*He left a lot of the paella. I could just bring it over,* Iker replied.
Lamb tagine or reheated paella. Even if it was Raúl’s cooking, the rice still tended to get all gummy and icky-feeling. On the other hand…“I thought you still had two movies to watch.”
*Well, I do. But it wouldn’t be a big deal to come by.*
“Did you even get to try any of it yet? You really should. It’s good.” When cooked fresh. Cesc was starting to lean towards the tagine, with maybe couscous and rice pudding. The smell of it might also do something about the really musty odor his place had gotten. He hadn’t been gone that long…and it didn’t quite smell like it, but he went into the bedroom and checked the sheets anyway. Lionel wasn’t usually that bad-mannered, but…same sheets, looking clean. Good. “No, it’s okay. You have a ton of work to do and I distracted you enough.”
*Raúl didn’t scold you for it, did he? Because I really didn’t mind much. You weren’t that distracting. I mean—I knew you were there, but you didn’t interfere with my work, and…*
Iker was getting flustered again, and from the sound of things, knocking his feet into all sorts of painful objects. And something about his protests was giving Cesc an idea. “Hey, my TV’s not nearly as big as yours, but if you wanna bring the DVDs over, all I’m doing tonight is dusting. Leave the paella. I already ordered food, and anyway, I think I owe you a lot of dinners for all that chicken soup.”
Five minutes and about thirty weak refusals later, Cesc finally had Iker’s agreement and could end the call. That was actually a significant improvement; the day after he’d collapsed at Iker’s, he’d thrown up again and then had gotten to see Raúl patiently spend twenty minutes talking Iker into letting him help clean up the bathroom afterwards. Speaking of…nah, it was pretty clean here, and definitely less cluttered than Iker’s. Cesc did wipe off his dining table, but after that, spent his time trying to catch up on his emails. Ricky and Lionel were keeping him up to date on Ruud, and Ruud also was still sending more than his share of messages, and…that just didn’t look good.
So Cesc was glad to have Iker promptly show up fifteen minutes later with DVDs and for some half-mumbled, blush-worthy reason, a bottle of some Moroccan liqueur Cesc had never even heard of. Of course, he was totally going to fix the part about never having tried it, either.
* * *
*…what the hell are you two doing?* Raúl said.
Iker answered, but his face was smashed into Cesc’s stomach so Cesc didn’t think Raúl would be able to hear that. His mouth tickled, getting Cesc’s shirt all wrinkled up against his stomach. Cesc couldn’t quite suppress his giggles, even though he was trying to shove Iker off as he grabbed for the phone. His fingertips just touched it, but instead of pulling it towards him, they bumped it so the cell-phone went skidding over the carpet.
Cesc thought a second, then just tried to talk loudly. “We’re watching a movie! It’s got talking animals and it’s making Iker completely homicidal. Really. You should hear him talk about the fifty different ways you can dismember somebody with a rusty hacksaw and then rearrange the parts like a nice jigsaw puzzle. Well. Maybe not so nice.”
“American films have too much gore. With all the laws they pass, they should pass one about buckets,” Iker mumbled. He’d rolled so his mouth wasn’t trying to eat Cesc’s shirt, but now his chin was digging into Cesc’s hipbone. “Yes. Buckets.”
*…You’re drunk.* Raúl added a couple of prayers that might’ve been in Latin. Or maybe he was actually cursing, but doing it in a pleading tone. Would sound the same either way, Cesc decided. *Both of you.*
“Buckets?” Cesc asked.
Iker did a slow turnover, head tilted back so he could grin widely and easily up at Cesc, like a puppy too young to know what to do with its limbs. His arms were even drawn up at weird angles, and when he flopped back on his stomach on the floor, one of them landed to drape over Cesc’s hip. Fingertips curled up under the tail of Cesc’s shirt to tickle at his back, just above his waistline.
“They mix it up in buckets. The fake blood. Mmm.” If Iker was trying to nuzzle Cesc’s stomach again, he was aiming too low.
Cesc squirmed and dug one elbow into the floor, then used it to drag himself over to the phone. He’d just touched it when a heavy weight fell across his back and uncoordinated but surprisingly effective hands started crawling up his shirt. “Raúl. Um. Iker brought the liquor.”
*Are you blaming him? Where are you two, anyway? I thought you were getting ready for work tomorrow.*
“Well, your boyfriend does have his hands on my…gah, Iker…my…ow, watch the nail--gah.” Oops. Wrong wriggle and suddenly Cesc had his trousers halfway done his hips and was in serious danger of losing his boxers as well. He twisted to get away from Iker and instead ended up with Iker snuggling up behind him, sloppily nuzzling his neck and petting at his belly and thighs. “Crap. Uncle, look, I’m really, really trying here, but Iker’s like…like…oooooo, God.”
*Preserve them from themselves,* Raúl muttered. A funny beep followed.
After a moment, wherein Iker’s hands progressed to Cesc’s waistband and Iker’s mouth lovingly attached itself Cesc’s ear, Cesc realized he’d been hung up on. He dropped the phone and grabbed Iker’s wrists, trying to get them off of sensitive areas. But the more he pulled, the harder Iker pressed down, like his palms were suction cups or something. Something sexier and more likely to induce knee-melting so Cesc couldn’t manage to roll over.
Cesc kicked up his foot and got it braced against the base of the sofa. He pushed off of it and bumped back against Iker, then almost had the momentum carry him over the top of the other man. Iker grunted and arched oddly so only his belly and groin were…oh, damn, he was far along. Not being quite as drunk as the other man, Cesc didn’t make the mistake of pushing himself backwards again. Instead he flailed till he got hold of a sofa-leg, then started dragging himself forward.
He got pretty close: he managed to sit up and hook his arm over the sofa cushions, but then Iker latched onto Cesc’s waist, burying his head so suddenly his profile was making itself felt against Cesc’s cock and good God, somebody had better be taking notes on Cesc’s self-control. He could totally jump Iker…or well, at least give into the bone-meltingly good feeling of Iker mouthing against his boxers, but was he? Nope, he was trying to do the right thing. “Okay, Iker, wait. Wait. Um. Talking cat.”
Iker mumbled something nasty, his mouth rubbing the silk of Cesc’s boxers all over…things. Things like Cesc’s cock and balls and severely ticklish inner thighs. “Blender.”
“What?” Cesc gritted his teeth. Then he stabbed his fingers into the sofa cushion as Iker’s hands came around to grab at his ass.
“Brothers Grimm.” Honest to God, Iker had the weirdest free-association patterns ever. And a very, very hot mouth. That had just taken the waistband of Cesc’s boxers in its teeth and started to pull down.
On Santa’s good-boy list for life, Cesc savagely thought, and reached down to pull Iker’s head off and up so he could look the other man in the eye. Iker looked vaguely frustrated, more clearly disappointed, and most of all, confused. And he was still kneading Cesc’s ass, his fingers occasionally prodding up to probe between Cesc’s buttocks and Jesus Christ, boxers never were such a thin and such an unyielding barrier. For which Cesc was sort of grateful. Sort of.
“Iker,” Cesc said. His voice was shaking and he didn’t really have the spare energy for steadying it. “No.”
“Why?” Iker plaintively asked.
Cesc cursed about a zillion times in his head. “Because um, I don’t know how this is going to work but, um, I’m pretty sure we should wait for Raúl. Since he’s the, ah, one who said yes to both of us and…um.”
Blink. It was looking like Iker was drunk enough to just accept that, but then he narrowed his eyes. “Is it because you want him first?”
And Cesc was just a little too drunk for snap responses. He stuttered a little, then shook his head and took a deep breath.
Iker sighed. He abruptly let go of Cesc’s butt and flopped over to stare moodily at the ceiling. “Okay, never mind. I get that. It’s pretty clear you two both saw each other first, and I have to respect that.”
“I still can’t say what it is properly, but I know it’s not that,” Cesc snorted, prying his hands off the couch. He started to go over to the other man, but got tripped up by his trousers and had to spend a second straightening those out.
By then, Iker was actually trying to stand up, and when Cesc tried to give him a hand, he impatiently waved it away. “No, no, it’s fine. I know, I understand, this happens to me a lot…”
“Oh, man, hey. I’m totally not dumping you right here. Like, I’d love—” Cesc lunged and prayed and wonder of wonders, got hold of Iker’s ankle instead of falling flat on his face “—to roll around my floor with you, but Raúl—”
“—takes priority—”
“Goddamn it, sit down,” Cesc snapped. He yanked and Iker’s arms whipped up. Then Iker went down on his back with a loud thump, and that had to hurt but Cesc didn’t have time to sympathize. He was busy climbing on top of Iker to make sure the other man stayed put. “Or lay down. Whatever. Listen. I just—look, I know how this can go, with people hiding stuff from each other and sneaking around and all that and I just don’t want to get into that. I really, really—I’ve never wanted something to go well so badly. That’s why I want to wait for Raúl, okay? It’s got nothing to do with who I want more.”
Iker stared up, pursing his lips and looking like he wanted to buy it but couldn’t quite. Which was why Cesc was sitting on his stomach. “But you do want him more. That’s how it always goes.”
They really should’ve done this when they were sober. Though when Iker was sober, he wasn’t nearly as grabby, and…oh. “Is this the thing about you hitting bars and picking up random people?”
“What?” It took a visible effort for Iker to concentrate. “Oh. Probably. I almost always end up the…what was it…right, the ‘fuckbuddy’ who gets dumped for the true love, and when I pick up random people at least then it’s not so hypno-hypo-”
He was still trying to talk when Cesc bent down and kissed him, so his mouth was partly open. When Cesc pushed his tongue in, Iker’s teeth started to come down on it, but then stopped and Cesc just squeezed his tongue through them. Iker tasted like that wine, spicy and all citrus bite over the sweet aftertaste.
“You don’t still do that, do you?” Cesc asked a second later. They were still so close that his lips brushed Iker’s. “’cause Raúl would kinda go nuts about it. He’s really pissed off right now ‘cause my cousin Sergio just had a bout of chlamydia.”
“No. No, I…” Iker’s tongue appeared to knot up inside his mouth. He sighed, his eyebrows drawing down so a little furrow dug in between them to keep them separated, and put up his hands on Cesc’s shoulders. “Look, it’s okay. You two have known each other longer.”
Cesc flicked up an eyebrow. “You really don’t think much of yourself, do you?”
Iker started to reply, but changed his mind and just looked up at Cesc instead. He shrugged awkwardly, his fingers slipping off Cesc’s shoulders.
“Well, I’m gonna make that change,” Cesc declared, dropping down. He snuggled up against the other man, tucking his head beneath Iker’s chin and trying to arrange himself in a way that wasn’t going to aggravate their erections. Wiping out all his sins for the past five years, he thought. “I know, don’t say it. You don’t believe me. No big deal. I’m used to that. I’ve been working on Raúl to loosen up and start living again for two years, and I think he’s way more stubborn than you are.”
“Thanks,” Iker muttered. He didn’t sound too offended. His hands crawled back to cover Cesc’s shoulderblades. After a moment, he sighed and twisted them a little so he could see the screen. “How much do I have to rewind, do you know? I really don’t want to watch this, even drunk and with your company.”
Cesc lipped at the underside of Iker’s chin a little. Just enough to get Iker shifting beneath him; he had to bite back a groan himself when his erection brushed against Iker’s leg. “Make up a review.”
“Can’t. Not ethical. Also, my editor can tell when I’m doing that and he’s scary. Reminds me of this Lehmann you two talk about.” Iker took one hand off Cesc long enough to find the remote. Once he’d reset the movie, he moved them around so he could lean up against the sofa, keeping Cesc on him with an arm around Cesc’s waist. “What happened two years ago?”
“Mori. Morientes. Raúl’s ex.” If Cesc crooked his head just right, he could get a whiff of Iker’s sweat and aftershave without suffocating himself. Thing was, the position kind of kinked his back as long as he was trying not to sit on Iker’s cock.
He could tell when Iker was frowning just by the way the flesh against which the top of his head was pressed moved. “The rock star?”
“The asshole. Anyway, I don’t think he’s sung himself since he left the country. He just produces now,” Cesc mumbled. He got an idea and shifted his ass to the floor, then settled into place. There—access to Iker’s neck, but turning down sex wasn’t such a torture. “Jerk was always like, ‘hey, kid, can you give me a moment with Raúl?’ and ‘kid, we’re gonna have an adult conversation now, so mind leaving?’”
“You would’ve been a teenager for most of that, wouldn’t you?” Iker said after a moment. If he could do math, then he was starting to sober up. Too bad, since he’d been really fun and that…they needed to get another bottle of that Moroccan wine. That and Raúl.
“So? I still wasn’t a kid. I knew what they were doing. Knew when they were fighting, too—Raúl was miserable that whole last six months they were together. I’ve never found out why, or why El Moro left, but I’m glad he did.” Cesc nuzzled at Iker’s throat and found a patch of stubble that the other man had missed when shaving. He licked at it, then rubbed it with his nose till his skin was too scratched-up for the way Iker would swallow hard. “Once Raúl did the, ‘Don’t you think Francesc’s growing up well?’ thing and Mori was like, ‘Yeah, he’s really cute.’”
Iker frowned again. “That’s not an insult. That’s…well, I don’t know what tone he was using, but that might have been a little disturbing…”
“It is so an insult. Cute is lousy after you’ve old enough for your balls to have dropped. Nobody wants to take ‘cute’ home,” Cesc said.
“I thought you were cute and hooked up with you.” When Cesc checked, the corner of Iker’s mouth was slightly turned up. “You are cute. When you’re not making me want to screw you so badly, you’re exactly the kind of face they’d cast as the bad-boy with the secret heart of gold.”
Cesc looked hard at him. Took a good sniff the next time Iker exhaled to judge the alcohol fumes, then elbowed Iker hard. The other man gasped, then whirled about and tackled Cesc into the carpet. The remote flew up and banged down somewhere, but Cesc was busy trying to keep Iker from tickling him, so he wasn’t keeping track of it.
* * *
Something nudged Cesc in the back. He grunted and kicked out, then frowned as the something grabbed his ankle. It didn’t hold on very tightly, but it wouldn’t let him pull his foot in…he cursed into the mattress, then opened his eyes and awkwardly rolled over, getting a jab in the ribs from Iker’s elbow as he did. “Hey, I got us to bed before we did any damage. Wanted to get a good sleep in for tomorrow…see, I’m responsible.”
“Right,” the shadowy figure said in Raúl’s voice. It let go of Cesc’s ankle and leaned over to…no, he wasn’t…he was…
The light was bright and yellow and wanted to poke out Cesc’s eyes. He screeched, flinging up one arm, and fell backward onto Iker, who huffed and slowly started to stir. “Raúl!”
“You got drunk and prank-called me when I was in the middle of treating Ljungberg for a migraine. You deserve it.” Raúl shot Cesc a completely unsympathetic look as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Then he turned around and stretched his arms over his head. He held the pose for a moment before dropping his arms to push the heels of his hands against the back of his neck while he rotated his head.
“Iker doesn’t,” Cesc protested. He gave Iker’s hip a pat, then threw himself down and burrowed up to the other man, who just now was blearily cracking open an eye. He gave Iker a smacking kiss and both of Iker’s eyes flew open. “And he had way more than me. He…hey, do you have a mmmmm…”
Iker apparently didn’t have a hang-over. What he did have was an overwhelming desire to suck on Cesc’s tongue till Cesc was a squirming, whimpering mess. Cesc made a couple attempts to point out the third man in the room, but every time he lifted a hand, Iker pushed it back down. And then Iker started pulling at Cesc’s clothes and Cesc really got—he humped up, trying to at least knock Iker over to Raúl, but instead got a leg slipped between his own. Then Iker leaned on it, grinding it into Cesc’s cock which was suddenly remembering unfinished business.
Raúl totally could’ve jumped in and done something. Raúl wasn’t doing anything. Raúl was…Cesc managed to twist his head around, sending Iker’s mouth skidding hotly down the side of his throat, and saw Raúl had turned to look. The light didn’t fall on his face so Cesc couldn’t see his expression, but the way Raúl was holding his shoulders was tense and hunched, like he’d half-coiled back on himself.
Cesc squinted and started to ask what was the matter, but then Iker’s hands made their way beneath the blankets and clothes and spread, hot and roughened, against Cesc’s hips and he moaned instead. Raúl twitched.
After a moment, Cesc snaked his hands down and got hold of Iker’s wrists. He used them to help himself wriggle out of his trousers, then put them back on his hips. Where they didn’t want to stay: Iker slid them up and down Cesc’s thighs, his fingertips dragging to feather ticklishly towards the inner curves. Every time his hands moved, the cool air would hit where they’d been and Cesc would shiver, so Iker would push his hands back down, exposing fresh areas. Cesc groaned again and let his head loll back under Iker’s assault on his neck.
He momentarily lost view of Raúl, but he still had a half-sense of where the other man was. And he could hear: a pair of thumps near the bed, and then creaking bedsprings…was Raúl taking off his shoes? Taking off his shoes, when he could be—
Iker went stiff about the same time somebody’s mouth latched onto Cesc’s lower lip, teasing it swollen without getting close enough for him to do anything. Cesc reached up and clawed at longer hair than Iker had, and besides, Iker was mumbling something about oops, waking up by Cesc’s collarbone. Then Iker made a funny surprised throaty noise and collapsed on top of Cesc, who had the air in his lungs squeezed out in a hissing whoosh.
Raúl ruffled Cesc’s hair, which was normally affectionate but right now, when he had his tongue artfully twisting in Cesc’s mouth, just really annoying. His other hand wasn’t in sight but was obviously busy from the way Iker was pushing his hips into Cesc in short, jagged bursts. “You usually grope Cesc in your dreams?”
Iker made an attempt to twist out from the middle, but Cesc locked his arms around the other man’s waist and he gave up, sliding rather torturously back down to mutter at Cesc’s jaw. “Revenge for all the cuddling he does?”
“Revenge? What, you don’t like it?” Cesc said. He meant to be mock-plaintive but the mock-part got lost somewhere between Raúl curling his hand about the back of Cesc’s neck and Iker arching so his thigh rubbed up between Cesc’s legs.
“Only when you’re doing it when I specifically told you no sex, and I end up having to step into the shower in the middle of the night. Or Iker has to. When did you turn into such a cocktease?” Raúl asked. His voice was low and rough, slightly amused and rumbling from the back of his throat so Cesc trembled. He was still hanging over Cesc, so close that the end of the last word wasn’t even all the way out of his mouth before the front of it was stroking Cesc’s lips. “You two nearly gave me an erection in front of a patient. Do you know how embarrassing that is?”
Cesc grinned. He could tell Iker was blushing and he craned his head around so he could rub his cheek against Iker’s flush. “Don’t blame me for your lack of professionalism.”
“You little—” With an exasperated sigh, Raúl bent forward.
Instead of holding still for it, Cesc shifted and pushed Iker sideways so Raúl’s mouth landed on Iker’s nape. Iker’s nose bumped into Cesc’s jaw. Then he raised his head so Cesc could watch his pupils slowly dilating. He abruptly jerked one arm up to rest it by Cesc’s head; his other hand clutched hard at Cesc’s hip. His eyelashes were long and black in the half-dark, and every few seconds they’d flutter like mad—Raúl had gotten Cesc’s point, apparently. Total sainthood for Cesc had better be coming up.
He kept one arm slung around Iker just in case the other man spooked again while he used his other hand to pull at Iker’s shirt. Occasionally he’d run into Raúl’s hands and have to shove at them to get the shirt out from under them, till finally he was pulling it over Iker’s head. Iker had to take his hand off Cesc’s hip to get rid of it and when he put it back down, it went down by the side of Cesc’s head. Cesc missed the touch but was partly mollified when Iker suddenly groaned and ducked down to suck hard at Cesc’s earlobe.
Iker’s hands curled around to knot in Cesc’s hair. They relaxed a second later, and stroked gently a few times before Iker went stiff all over, a gasp sticking in his throat. Cesc couldn’t see past him, but could hear Raúl’s cursing turn thick and slurred; he flattened both palms against Iker’s back, then pressed them slowly down to Iker’s hips. His fingers overlapped Raúl’s there, and Raúl briefly lifted one hand to squeeze at Cesc’s wrist before he grabbed Iker and drove both of them down into Cesc.
“What—what was that?” Iker gasped. He bowed enough beneath Raúl for the tip of his cock—oh, Raúl had been really busy if Iker had lost his trousers already—to go skidding up Cesc’s stomach.
Cesc clamped his lips together, feeling the blood rush into his cheeks. Well, they were heavy.
“That—that was cute.” Iker pulled a little too hard at Cesc’s hair, his mouth wetly grazing the side of Cesc’s face. His breathing was going ragged very fast and he was shaking in between Raúl’s strokes. “Do that again.”
“Oh, shut up,” Cesc hissed. He petted at Raúl’s fingers, but Raúl didn’t seem to register it since he just kept going as he had. That was the only part of him Cesc could reach, but he could get to most of Iker so he did his best there, rubbing his hands along Iker’s sides and pressing kisses to Iker’s throat. And—okay, fine, Iker’s hand dropped between them to trap their cocks against each other and Cesc squeaked again. “It’s not cute! It’s embarrassing!”
Iker opened his mouth, then slammed it so hard against Cesc’s jaw and throat that Cesc could count his teeth as he rocked hard forward. Raúl was briefly visible, face all contorted, but not so much so that Cesc couldn’t detect a hint of confusion. “What the hell are you two doing?”
Cesc started to reply. Ended up arching wildly and letting out a noise that was not a girly ‘eek’ when Iker’s hand slipped down behind Cesc’s cock to rub a couple fingers between Cesc’s buttocks. Wasn’t. Just…he twisted again when the rest of Iker came down on him, so hard and close Cesc thought his shirt was going to dissolve under the pressure. His cock was trapped across Iker’s, and both of them squeezed hard between their bodies, and he was seeing white stars and he thought crap, barely anything and I’m going to—
--except at the last moment, Iker arched off, holding himself up on stiff arms and legs as he strangled out a gasp. His prick poked at Cesc’s stomach, then lifted as he came all over Cesc’s belly.
Cesc was deeply disappointed for himself, but…Iker just looked amazing. Flushed and open-mouthed and every muscle in his throat thrown into high relief by the strain. He watched and after a moment, he reached up to touch as well, and he got a couple strokes over Iker’s chest before the other man suddenly dropped to the side. Iker landed so hard he nearly rolled over again and off the bed, but managed to catch himself at the last moment.
Though Cesc didn’t see what on, because when Iker had moved, that left Raúl and Raúl had his trousers down and his shirt unbuttoned and there were big dark hungry eyes and smooth chest and creamy-looking thighs leading up to…Cesc swallowed and scooted up a little. He accidentally let out a whimper when Raúl put one hand on his knee to hold him in place.
“That. That’s cute,” Iker insisted. Maybe he still had a little alcohol in his system, because Cesc could’ve sworn the other man was snickering a little. He flopped back over and latched onto Cesc’s arm so Cesc looked at him.
By the time Cesc looked back, Raúl had crawled over him and was rubbing his hands up and down Cesc’s thighs. He was watching Cesc very carefully, the hunger fading a little from his eyes. Cesc gritted his teeth—he hadn’t spent years waiting and then given up half a dozen chances just now to chicken out just because—well, he had years of what-ifs fluttering in his stomach. And they could knock it off, because…Cesc wriggled to get Raúl’s hands off, then jacked up his knees. “It is not. I’m handsome, smart and well-spoken. I’m not cu—”
“I am not listening to this argument,” Raúl sighed, like he hadn’t just slid one slick finger into Cesc.
He was lucky Cesc didn’t kick him in the head. He could’ve given a warning or something instead of just—Cesc hissed through his teeth and grabbed at the mattress. He squeezed his eyes shut for a couple seconds; if he wasn’t looking, it wasn’t really hurting. It wasn’t. He just…needed a moment.
Cesc opened his eyes again when he felt a hand on his shin. Raúl filled up his whole field of vision and he flinched, not exactly expecting that. The other man pursed his lips, then reached up and cradled Cesc’s head. He started to say something, but Cesc had recovered enough by then to just want to get on with it and pressed upwards. Didn’t quite make it, but then Raúl gave him some help lifting his head and they were kissing, slow and soft, while he got used to Raúl’s fingers.
Which, come to think of it, couldn’t be the ones on his shin. Cesc wrapped his arms around Raúl’s neck and hooked one leg high around Raúl’s back so he could twist around to see. He’d barely started when Raúl abruptly dropped back, leaving Cesc scrambling for handholds. Luckily Iker sidled up beside Cesc just then, still holding up Cesc’s other leg. He laid down beside Cesc and nibbled at Cesc’s ear, propping his chin up on Cesc’s shoulder. Cesc grabbed at him with one arm, then held on tight as Raúl settled purposefully between Cesc’s legs, hand slipping out so he was now cradling Cesc’s ass in his palms.
“It’s like those little aliens in that one movie. The really adorable ones that were really vicious killers,” Iker mused. He had some weird thought-patterns anyway, but sex really turned him silly.
Well, it was a good look on him. And he wasn’t as out of it as he sounded; he reached around and pulled Cesc into a hard kiss just as Raúl’s prick slipped up Cesc’s thigh and then into Cesc and ow, Christ, okaygood now. Cesc moaned and shoved his tongue into Iker’s mouth just as his entire lower half went all liquid and nice. “’m not an alien.”
“No.” Iker groaned and curled his hand round so his thumb-pad ran in circles over the edge of Cesc’s jaw. He pushed up and twisted his tongue around Cesc’s, driving it deep into Cesc’s mouth about the same time that Raúl dug his fingers into Cesc’s hips and really, truly, for the first time, fucked Cesc.
Finally, Cesc thought. And ohGodbetterthanIthought, and mmmm, and—and—“You were fucking Iker faster than this. What?”
“I’m watching,” Raúl said. He was panting and his voice sounded as if somebody had taken a gravel pad to it, but he was definitely, absolutely, undeniably amused. “Iker…”
“Mmmwhat?” Iker mumbled, mouth lazily dropping down Cesc’s throat. He stopped to nibble at Cesc’s nipple, then wandered onwards; Cesc briefly managed to lift his head and glimpsed a hand on Iker’s neck pulling him along.
But then Iker took half of his cock into heaven and Cesc dropped his head and ground it into the mattress like he was trying to gouge out a hole to hell. He arched, inadvertently drove himself back onto Raúl’s prick so deeply that Raúl staggered a little, and then subsided with a scream tangled in his throat and his vision full of stars.
Iker…lifted off. Coughed and said “Sorry, got the breathing wrong” and then went back down. And this time he took all of Cesc’s cock to heaven, so Cesc decided not to yell at him.
“Stopped complaining?” Raúl gasped. Still laughing a little.
So okay, Raúl was rocking into him, short little stabs that didn’t give Cesc any time to recover before he was being laid flat by the next one, and bit by bit the momentum was ratcheting the tension in Cesc’s body past the snapping point. And he was banging his knee into Iker’s back or maybe Iker’s head and Iker was apparently taking his sucking rhythm for it, and holy Mary, Mother of God, but people were total idiots to turn down Iker’s mouth, but—if Raúl could still talk, Cesc was going to answer him. “I knew it! Knew…you’d liked…watching. God, uncle.”
Raúl kind of gargle-grunted and slammed forward, bending so far over that the tips of his bangs tickled Cesc’s belly as he came. Between him and Cesc, Iker’s head must have been caught in one hell of a vise, but Iker managed to keep from biting Cesc and instead swallowed hard to draw Cesc’s own climax out of him. With a literal bang.
“I think that was your lamp falling,” Iker said a moment later. He shouldered his way free, then curled up against Cesc’s side to talk into Cesc’s hair.
“Never liked it anyway.” Cesc happily slumped into a sweaty, sticky knot around Raúl. “Hey, uncle?”
Twitch. After a moment, Raúl hauled himself up and prodded at Cesc’s legs till he was able to slide out. He had a half-bemused, half-embarrassed look on his face. “I should really be more disturbed by that than I am. Then again, it’s you and I always knew you’d be a handful.”
“Hah. Knew it. I can just call you that in bed if it throws off your work,” Cesc grinned. He twisted around and wriggled up so Raúl was forced to lie back down, then had to grab for Iker’s arm to keep himself from falling off the bed. “I so need a bigger one, come to think of that.”
“This is not big enough to sleep in.” Which was about as close to agreement as Raúl would get. He pushed at Cesc, then abruptly rolled over to dump Cesc off. “Anyway, I just came to make sure you two weren’t puking your heads off in the toilet. I’ve got evening appointments I need to go to. Iker, need a ride? I didn’t see your car…”
Iker propped himself up on his elbow. “Oh, I parked around the corner. Nothing nearby was free when I came. And…damn it, we never finished the second film. My review for it’s due tomorrow at noon.”
“Come back afterwards.” Cesc flopped back to rest his head on Iker’s arm and gave Raúl his best pleading look. “Please?”
“You have work tomorrow,” Raúl said, faintly scolding. He gave Cesc a consolatory pat on the hip, then leaned over him to get to Iker…and paused. Both he and Iker looked down.
Cesc shrugged. “Hey, I love watching. And I’m not afraid to admit it.”
Iker blushed. Raúl rolled his eyes and caught Iker by the chin at the same time, then gave him a kiss. No tongue, but firm enough and with enough heat so it was a ‘see you later’ and not a ‘farewell.’ “If you’re too tired to cook, you can stop by my place tomorrow,” Raúl said to both of them. “And don’t keep him up too late.”
“I won’t,” Iker replied.
“I was talking to Cesc, actually.” Raúl put his hand down over Cesc’s mouth, muffling Cesc’s indignant reply, and gave Iker another kiss before he got up, absently grabbing up his trousers as he did.
“Love you too!” Cesc yelled after him. Then he collapsed into snickers against Iker. The other man looked totally confused, so Cesc wrapped his arms around him and hugged him. “He would go for the shower first. Hey, you’re staying, right? So I can help you get through the second movie?”
The confusion went out of Iker’s face, only to be replaced with an odd, not quite readable expression. Though he did smile a little and stroke Cesc’s face. “You weren’t much help before. But yeah, all right.”
“Cool.” Cesc grinned again, then leaned over and had a go at Iker himself. The other man still tasted a little like Raúl, and once that was gone, he tasted good all by himself so Cesc figured he’d keep going till they fell over and ran out of air. And when they did, he nuzzled up to Iker’s breathless, wondering expression. “Hey. Next time, can I fuck you? It looked like fun from where I was.”
Iker went flaming red and stammered a lot. So Cesc kissed him again, and eventually he calmed down. Didn’t say yes either, but Cesc had an entire evening to work on that.
***