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dfotwTitle: Here there is still room for you
Summary: a Becksillas piece set after David’s visit to the Bernabeu to watch the match again Recreativo de Huelva.
Warnings: Slash, angst. The usual.
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 430
Disclaimer: if this had happened, and I knew about it, I’d keep the secret close to my heart and never disclose it. In other words, not true.
A/N: because I’m so impressionable that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
adorerdollylux’s entry on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ontd_football about these two almost made me cry. Credit for finding out about this scene goes to her and her sources!
Yes, this could have been a happy, romantic piece. No, it isn’t.
“Here there is still room for you.”
Anyone who heard you stammer this, anyone who even heard about this second-hand, should have been able to taste the desperation dripping from those words. It was obvious to you, to him, to anyone, that you weren’t just talking about the changing room, the team, football.
You shouldn’t have said it. You know that very well. You knew it even before he gave you a small, fake smile charged with reproach and walked away under the pretence of exchanging quips about the Serie A with Fabio. But seeing him in the changing room again made you believe for a moment that time hadn’t come between you. There was a second in which you truly thought that you’d have a quick shower and a quicker goodbye kiss and that the next day the groundskeeper would be shouting you off the pitch because you always stay too long after the others have left, trying to prolong your time together.
As he walks away, you remember that your time together came to an end years ago and that now, when the groundskeeper sees you sitting at your goal, long after the end of training, and shouts, “Don’t you have a home to go to?”, you can honestly answer that no, that your home and your dreams and your smile left with him.
Yet he comes back... he comes back to taunt you with what you had, and lost. He comes back with his perfect suits and his perfect smiles, parading his perfect life in front of the ruins that he made of yours. And instead of hating him, of turning away from him and giving him the cold shoulder he more than deserves, you simper an offer you know he will refuse, like a lovesick teenager yearning after the most popular boy in class.
You feel just as inadequate now as you did when you were together. He always made you feel like that, vulnerable and strong, perfect and lacking, humble and proud. One of the reasons (yes, you have *reasons*, a whole list of them, beautifully rationalised and classified) why you loved him as much as you did (as you do) is because of how you could never find anyone, or anything, who took you to the heights and lows he did.
He did. He doesn’t now, and he never will again.
Not matter what you offer him, it will never be enough to lure him back into that place by your side he never should have left empty.
So, why are you still offering?
Summary: a Becksillas piece set after David’s visit to the Bernabeu to watch the match again Recreativo de Huelva.
Warnings: Slash, angst. The usual.
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 430
Disclaimer: if this had happened, and I knew about it, I’d keep the secret close to my heart and never disclose it. In other words, not true.
A/N: because I’m so impressionable that
adorerdollylux’s entry on ontd_football about these two almost made me cry. Credit for finding out about this scene goes to her and her sources!Yes, this could have been a happy, romantic piece. No, it isn’t.
“Here there is still room for you.”
Anyone who heard you stammer this, anyone who even heard about this second-hand, should have been able to taste the desperation dripping from those words. It was obvious to you, to him, to anyone, that you weren’t just talking about the changing room, the team, football.
You shouldn’t have said it. You know that very well. You knew it even before he gave you a small, fake smile charged with reproach and walked away under the pretence of exchanging quips about the Serie A with Fabio. But seeing him in the changing room again made you believe for a moment that time hadn’t come between you. There was a second in which you truly thought that you’d have a quick shower and a quicker goodbye kiss and that the next day the groundskeeper would be shouting you off the pitch because you always stay too long after the others have left, trying to prolong your time together.
As he walks away, you remember that your time together came to an end years ago and that now, when the groundskeeper sees you sitting at your goal, long after the end of training, and shouts, “Don’t you have a home to go to?”, you can honestly answer that no, that your home and your dreams and your smile left with him.
Yet he comes back... he comes back to taunt you with what you had, and lost. He comes back with his perfect suits and his perfect smiles, parading his perfect life in front of the ruins that he made of yours. And instead of hating him, of turning away from him and giving him the cold shoulder he more than deserves, you simper an offer you know he will refuse, like a lovesick teenager yearning after the most popular boy in class.
You feel just as inadequate now as you did when you were together. He always made you feel like that, vulnerable and strong, perfect and lacking, humble and proud. One of the reasons (yes, you have *reasons*, a whole list of them, beautifully rationalised and classified) why you loved him as much as you did (as you do) is because of how you could never find anyone, or anything, who took you to the heights and lows he did.
He did. He doesn’t now, and he never will again.
Not matter what you offer him, it will never be enough to lure him back into that place by your side he never should have left empty.
So, why are you still offering?
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no subject
Date: 2009-04-24 12:52 am (UTC)"You feel just as inadequate now as you did when you were together. He always made you feel like that, vulnerable and strong, perfect and lacking, humble and proud." PERFECT
I’m new to this fandom, however I have to confess that now I’m completely hooked.I wish their stories were a little bit more longer..but they are always so short, *snif* :/ - Is this a common characteristic of football slash fiction?
BTW, is there any sort of community where one can make a request!
Thanks for this wonderful fic.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-24 07:23 am (UTC)No, my stories aren't always this short (a few weeks ago I posted something nearly 4,000 words long... ugh!), and there are true 30-chapters-or-more epics to be found out there... it's only that I needed to get this piece out of my head as quickly as possible!
I think the mods wouldn't say anything if you made a request in
Once again, thank you for reading and commenting on this!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-25 10:50 pm (UTC)Thanks once again
no subject
Date: 2009-04-27 08:03 am (UTC)