Log in

No account? Create an account
Tried a longer fic with a different pairing ..  
10:09pm 07/07/2005
Rating: I don't get ratings .. 15?
Pairing: Antonio Nunez/ Steve Finnan
Feedback: Please ...
Disclaimer: Not true at all .. All made up ..
Summary: Antonio's depressed, and Finn's worried.

"Antonio, concentrate."
Why was it so hard for Antonio? He'd seen what he could do. He can ghost past players on the wing sometimes. Can stick a cross right on the head of a forward. Why couldn't he do it consistently? Steve Finnan didn't understand it. After all, you're either a good player, or you're not, aren't you? Either way, didn't like to see Antonio struggling, suffering. He knew it had been hard for him to come over from Spain. The rest of the Spanish lads had brought over family- Antonio hadn't. And of course there was the injury straight away, which hadn't helped. It really destroyed him confidence too. Finn never liked to see a team-mate suffering, so he'd tried to get to know Antonio, had tried to make it a bit easier for him. And he'd got to know him too- once you'd got past the shy part of Antonio, there was a sweet, caring, funny guy. And gradually, Steve had been finding that he'd been thinking about Antonio more and more. Found that he was starting to like him, maybe a bit more than he should do. Antonio was insecure, he knew that. And he knew he was finding it hard in England. He didn't want to put any more pressure on him than there already was. So he just offered him a small smile, and jogged back into position.


He’d felt he needed to check on him. Antonio hadn’t seemed himself lately. Even quieter, if that was possible. Seemed depressed. Driving round to Antonio’s house, the first few drops of rain fell. As Steve parked the car, the first flash of lightening and clap of thunder, and now it was chucking it down. He pulled his hood up to try and shield himself, and ran to the door, thumping on the door rather than knocking. Scowling to himself when Antonio didn’t answer quickly, he knocked again, ringing the bell several times. After a minute, Antonio still hadn’t answered, and Steve was getting worried. The lights were on, his car was in the drive, and he was definitely at home. Why wasn’t he answering? He moved around to look into the window, and then saw the gate to the back garden was open. He went in, and saw Antonio, just standing on the patio. Antonio, who was unmoving as the rain continued to pour, who had his head hung and staring at the ground, didn’t notice the fact he was now drench to the skin. Brows furrowed, Steve runs to Antonio without a second thought, gravel crunching underneath his immaculate white shoes. The rain stings his eyes, wind whipping his hair back and when he finally reaches Antonio, he can’t even feel his fingers. He hates to think how Antonio feels, or what he doesn’t feel right now.

“Antonio?! What the hell?” Head snapping up, Antonio’s eyes widen, and he jumps slightly.

“Go away Finn, you’re getting wet.” Well that was an odd thing to say, Steve thinks. The only fact being that Antonio has probably been standing here for the good last ten minutes and has the frame of mind to tell Steve to go away, because he’s getting wet. He shakes his head and stares back at Antonio, watching the water drip from his face and causing him to blink rapidly.

“I’m getting wet? I’m getting wet? Antonio, you’ve been standing out here for God knows how long and you’re telling me, I’m getting wet!” Shaking his head in disbelief, Steve runs a hand through his soaked hair and pushes it out of his vision. Eyes scanning over the way Antonio’s shirt clings to his chest, the heavy corduroy of his jacket hanging down with the weight of the water, Steve grabs onto his wrist. “Come back inside, I’ll get you dried up.” Steve turns to leave, but Antonio stands his ground and refuses to budge.

“No, Steve, leave me alone. You go back inside.” Antonio sounds six again and he knows it, seeing the way Finn’s eyebrows rise at his words.


“Let go, Steve.” Fighting to keep his breathing even, Antonio stares into Steve’s dark eyes and watches the small droplets of water drip from his hair. He bites his lip, trying fruitlessly to tear away from Steve’s grip upon his wrist, but Steve continues to resist and curls his fingers even tighter around Antonio’s damp skin.

“Steve, let go!” Shouting to be heard over the pounding of the rain, Antonio tugs at his arm and all in vain as he sees Steve shake his head defiantly.

“No! Not until you come inside and tell me what the hell’s wrong.”

A flash of lightening, in the distance, lights up the bleak atmosphere and the clap of thunder that follows makes Antonio jump slightly. He pulls again, eyes wide and fleeting, desperate to get away, but Steve’s hold is unrelenting.

“Please, Steve, let me go. I can’t… please…” Tired and weak, Antonio’s words reflect how he feels and with the next boom of noise, his hands fly to cover his ears. Shaking his head, water flying everywhere, including Steve’s face, Antonio’s entire body tenses and Steve’s vigour finally wavers; fingers slipping from their grasp.

The rain is torrential this time of year, pounding down mercilessly and by now both men are drench to the bone; cotton blended material glued down to their skin, hair plastered to their heads. Antonio cowers on the spot, body wracked with violent trembling and Steve’s eyes widen with panic. Not knowing what to do, then remembering Antonio’s fear of thunder, he does the only thing he can come up with and makes remotely any sense to him.

He wraps his arms around Antonio’s shaking form and drags him beneath a small closed up space near the patio doors, where there’s a small overhead shelter. Pushing Antonio up against the door in his haste, he slips and falls flush into Antonio’s chest. Blushing madly, Steve stands still and swallows thickly as he sees Antonio blink open his eyes to glance down at him. Staring into the soft brown, Steve remains unmoving.

Steve stands silently, completely transfixed at the water slipping from Antonio’s damp lashes, making them clump together in dark triangles. He follows the droplet of water on it’s path from Antonio’s forehead down to his cheek, stopping momentarily at his nose, before running down to his pale pink lips. Staring as it hangs from Antonio’s chin, Steve suddenly realises the mad urge he has to just lick it off, but shakes all those thoughts clear and brings a hand up to rub his face. Remembering that Antonio’s his friend, his male friend who’s having problems right now. Problems which don’t need his unwanted attention and would not be aided by the pit of confusion he’s currently harbouring. His disturbing infatuation with wanting to taste Antonio’s milky skin and sooth away the creases the cover his brow.

Why is Antonio so pretty?

The question suddenly occurs to, Steve, in the most inappropriate of situations and he wonders, why now? Now of all times, places, circumstances… person. A hand rests against Antonio’s cold cheek, the skin tingling and tight and to his horror, Steve realises he’s stroking Antonio’s face.

Eyes round and curious, Antonio places his hand over Steve’s and wills the other to look at him. But Steve finds something terribly interesting besides Antonio’s shoes and refuses to make any eye contact. Antonio takes a staggering breath, calming his breathing and willing his pounding heart to even out. He clears his throat and prepares himself to say something, anything.

“Steve?” Antonio’s voice is soft and small, unwilling to create any obnoxious sounds that could shatter the stagnant atmosphere and make Steve turn away. Only moments earlier had Antonio wished, beyond anything before, for Steve to leave him and now all he wanted was for Steve’s eyes to meet his.

“Sorry… ” Steve apologises but makes no attempt to remove his hand, instead letting Antonio’s fingers curl into his and bond in a lattice of cold skin and racing beats.

“What for?”


“There’s nothing, but then, nothing is everything…” Hand slipping slightly, Antonio’s face falls and Steve averts his gaze back to his face.

“Antonio?” Hearing his name, his immediate response is to turn to it.. “Antonio, what’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” Words falter, the combination of the cold water, chill wind and warmth radiating from Steve’s palm cause Antonio to shiver. This in turn on makes Steve’s brows furrow deeper and his arm to slip further around Antonio’s waist, pulling him closer. Steve’s worried look makes Antonio grin, his touch and caring eyes making his heart melt. Antonio’s so smitten he doesn’t know what to do with himself, the feeling beyond frustrating because he just knows Steve doesn’t feel the same way.

“Stop saying that, why are you lying to me?” Shaking his head, Steve continues to chew his lip and brings a hand up to brush the wet strands out of Antonio’s face. Eyes slipping shut, Antonio leans into the touch subconsciously and emits a quiet sound of content, mewling almost. Cool fingers slide against his quickly heating skin, sliding down to the very tip of his nose and lingering on his lips. “You used to tell me everything… what changed?” Dejected and forlorn, Steve’s words bring Antonio back to the current moment.

Taking a shaky breath, Antonio wills his eyes to open and look at Steve. Staring at Steve, with his finger still poised on Antonio’s lips, Antonio sighs and thinks this is it. He should just tell him now and get it over and done with. Tell him how he’s been feeling all these months and the way he’s been noticing all the small things that make Steve; every uttered syllable and all the lines in between. How he struggles to sleep at night when he thinks about the way Steve’s skin glistens with sweat, the way his lips pout and eyes shine. The small touches and friendly hugs.

“Ilikeyou,Steve.” Blinking, Steve frowns and asks Antonio to repeat what he just said. Antonio shakes his head and says he heard him the first time.

“No, actually, I didn’t. You spoke too fast.” Sighing, Antonio bites his lip, not realising and catching Steve’s finger. Teeth catching the smooth skin, Antonio looks up to see Steve blinking, eyes hazy and unfocused. A wave of courage washes over Antonio and he hesitantly lets the fingers slide into his mouth, tongue lavishing over the bite marks his teeth had left behind. Hearing a stifled groan, Antonio lets the finger slip from his mouth and watches as Steve closes his eyes in an attempt to settle himself. “Jesus, Ant… ”

“Steve?” Calling his name tentatively, Antonio slides his hands over Steve’s sturdy shoulders, fingers playing along his neck.

“Yeah, Ant?”

“Kiss me?” Both men are uncertain, all sentences end with a question mark instead of a period and Steve’s eyes retrain themselves on Antonio’s lips.

“What now?” As if having to confirm such a statement, Steve shakes his head but curls his fingers into the soft, wet material of Antonio’s shirt; hand having slipped passed his jacket. Antonio doesn’t answer, shutting his eyes tight and leaning forward, he presses his chill lips to Steve’s warmer, dry ones. A satisfied sigh escapes and he’s caught off guard by the hot tongue that passes over his lips, seeking permission for entry.

Opening his mouth, Antonio feels Steve’s tongue glide smoothly into against his and coaxes it into moving. Timidly brushing against Steve’s tongue, Antonio feels little sparks of heat run down his spine and gasps when Steve pulls his tongue into his mouth. Sucking Antonio’s tongue softly, Steve doesn’t even consider what he’s doing anymore as he feels his stomach tighten at the keen noises Antonio emits.

Hands travelling up and down Antonio’s sides, he tugs him closer yet again and deepens the kiss, angling his head to the side. Not knowing what to do now that he’s doing what he’s dreamt about for so many long nights, Antonio kneads the skin on the nape of Steve’s neck. The hot, wet contact making his head spin and skin tingle, Antonio moans out gently as his hips brush up against Steve’s and feels the heat pool in the pit of his stomach.

The two continue in this manner for more minutes, both getting more and more passionate with each moment until things reach a feverish pitch and the need for air takes over. Both pull away simultaneously, panting for air and clawing at each other for more contact. It’s animalistic almost, how the two suddenly can’t handle the lack of a more intimate form of contact and stare at one another with inebriated lust. Steve’s the first to speak, muttering something so clearly evident it seems unnecessary.

“Wow.” Antonio laughs quietly, face flushed and glowing. “Um, that was amazing.”

“Mhm… ” Fingers tracing idle figures on Steve’s wet chest, Antonio looks up to see the rain’s waned away to mere pitter patters, splashing and dripping over the two.

“Well. That was definitely unexpected.” Antonio looks up, eyes confused, the blue darkening if that were possible.

“Didn’t you want that too?”

“What? Oh, no, no. I did, it’s just I didn’t think you felt that way or anything… I mean, how you’ve been avoiding me for so long and all.” Hand stroking Steve’s cheek tenderly, Antonio smiles and shakes his head.

“I thought you didn’t and that’s why I’ve been… distant. I didn’t know what to say and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Really now? Well, you shouldn’t keep things from me. It can only end up in one way.” Blinking, slightly puzzled and curious, Antonio thinks.

“What way is that?”

“The two of us soaking wet and kissing in the rain without an umbrella.” Steve chuckles but stops abruptly when Antonio sneezes, face scrunching up adorably. “But, we should get you dried up. How long were you even out here before I came?” Shrugging, Antonio wipes his nose and looks at Steve bashfully.

“A while?” Sighing, Steve wraps his arm back around Antonio and guides him towards his car.

“How did you even plan on getting home anyway? You don’t even drive. ” Frowning, Antonio looks around and then over at Steve.

“I think that’s why I was standing in the rain… ”

“Oh Jess, what am I going to do with you?”

“Come inside, dry me up and feed me hot chocolate?”
    Read 6 - Post - - Link
Yes, I'm going to talk about 'that guy'  
09:13pm 05/07/2005
I know most of you- by most of you, I mean the LFC fans- hate Gerrard right now. But I'm gonna remember him for better days, not for the last few weeks, and I hope you lot can too ..

title or description

title or description

cl final .. whos gonna forget that in a hurry?

vs olympiakos

title or description

title or description

Who's going to forget nights like those in a hurry? (or days, in one case) Stevie may not have won those games on his own, but he threw a hell of a lot into winning it with the team.
mood: gloomygloomy
    Read 3 - Post - - Link

  Next 10
October 2006  

  Powered by