Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1865628.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Football_RPF
  Relationship:
      Cesc_Fàbregas/Robin_van_Persie
  Additional Tags:
      Size_Kink, Anal_Sex, Fingerfucking, Age_Difference, Teen_Angst, there's
      something_about_fabpersie, that_i_find_awesome, kinda_rushed_ending
      though_sorry, but_hey_pr0n, kudos_and_comments_are_encouraged_and
      appreciated, thank_you, is_there_anyone_shipping_fabpersie?
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-29 Words: 5615
****** 15 ******
by st_elsewhere
Summary

     cesc is a lot of things that robin wasn't when he was fifteen.
 
 
“yes, sir, he’s here with me. he just fell asleep though, um. hmm? oh, yeah.
it’s fine, i haven’t seen him for so long, remember?”
robin glances at his younger friend who is currently sleeping in a fetus
position on his bed. even his backside looks exhausted, robin thinks, sighing
quietly just so cesc and his worried father on the phone won’t hear him. when
he was fifteen, he recalls going to football practices and helping cesc with
math, not crying himself to sleep because of the classic the-world-is-so-unfair
phase every fifteen year olds seem to have once in their life. robin is
nineteen now, and honestly? life is good.
“no no no, i don’t have classes on friday, sir, i’ll take care of him.” robin
smiles to the carpeted floor and gets up carefully. he needs a drink. “yeah,
i’ll take him home on sunday. no seriously, it’s okay, i’ve missed him. i
didn’t even know he’s getting taller,” he chuckles to reassure fàbregas senior
that it’s a completely pleasant surprise to find cesc with a deep frown and
dark circles under his eyes standing right in front of his door a couple of
hours ago.
(cesc’s father doesn’t have to know that it’s a completely different kind of
surprise for robin when he found out why cesc had his beloved rucksack with
him, stuffed with his clothes and other paraphernalia like his toothbrush and
shampoo and a thick harry potter book.)
“yes, sir. i promise. good night, sir. i’ll see you soon.” robin bids goodbye
as he reaches the mini refrigerator that the dormitory provides in every room.
he takes out a can of heineken, sniffs as he pops open the lid, and finishes it
in record time. the weight of his cellphone in the left pocket of his training
pants serves as a constant reminder why cesc, who hasn’t been in touch with
him, not really, decided to go to robin—of all of his friends, plural—to get
away from the unfair world.
of course robin is glad that cesc; his next door neighbor, the little brother
he will never have—chose him. he was glad for a millisecond—he did miss
cesc—but then cesc started crying and his nose was running and it wasn’t like
that time when cesc fell from his bike when he was six and robin was ten.
no.
mostly, robin is confused. he knows that the wound hurting this fifteen year
old cesc is not going to heal with antiseptic and dinosaur printed band-aid.
he’s confused because he doesn’t know how to heal a fifteen year old’s wound
which he has nothing to do with. when he was ten, he admitted he didn’t pay
attention to where cesc was pedaling until cesc crashed to a lamp post and
skinned his knee. cesc’s parents going through a divorce is surely not his
fault.
robin crushes the can and throws it to the trash bin, washes his hands, and
checks his cellphone again to make sure that his roommate arjen is spending the
night at his girlfriend’s.
after brushing his teeth and reviewing a half-finished paper due on tuesday,
robin shuts down his laptop, the lights, and climbs to his bed, collecting cesc
in his arms, trying to match his breathing with the younger boy’s, and falling
asleep with a hazy memory of six year old cesc clinging to him; holding onto
the neckline of his optimus prime t-shirt and almost choking him as he sobbed
on robin’s piggyback ride back home.
 
                                        

                                       ✖
                                        
                                        
robin wakes up to a gentle tap on his left shoulder.
arjen has his what’s up? face, which is just his eyebrows high on his forehead
and a smile.
cesc is still sleeping.
robin gestures to cesc and mouths to arjen, “my neighbor.”
“ah.” arjen knows who cesc is. he’s a great listener and robin has mentioned
about cesc on occasions. “i forgot my notebook. anyway i’ll keep going, go back
to sleep.”
robin acknowledges his roommate with a hum and he loosens his right arm around
cesc’s head to twist his body.
“i think he’s staying over, jen, for the weekend. y’know,” he whispers to
arjen’s back. “it’s kinda urgent.”
“don’t worry, broer, i thought you missed him?” arjen chuckles and begins
stuffing his backpack with underwear and clean tops. he goes to the bathroom
and comes back a little while later. “see you... sunday? monday?”
“monday, i think i’m taking him home,” robin reaches out to offer his fist.
arjen grins and lazily bumps it with his. “thanks a lot, jen, i owe you one.”
“you know i like sushi.”
“deal.”
when arjen says that he’s just kidding, cesc grumbles and hits robin’s chest
with his elbows as he rubs his closed eyelids. arjen tiptoes and waves as he
sneaks out of their room and robin strokes cesc’s head and when cesc looks up
with another deep frown, robin tweaks the tip of his nose as a greeting.
“you’re noisy.” cesc head-butts robin’s chin, yawns, wriggles like a
caterpillar, and presses every inch of their bodies from head to toe.
“ow.” robin pushes cesc to lie on his back and then he sits up. “good morning.”
cesc is crossing his arms, still frowning, as he stares to the ceiling and
chews his bottom lip.
“what time is it?” cesc pulls the hem of robin’s black t-shirt as a leverage to
sit up as well. he leans back against the wall, mumbling, “i didn’t have dinner
last night.”
“alright.” robin can’t help himself. his smile is so wide he can feel the
muscles on his face stretching way too early on a friday morning. “go take a
shower,” he ruffles cesc’s hair, expecting a glare that cesc had established by
the time he thought he’s old enough not to be patronized by a boy four years
older than him.
instead of the anticipated glare, robin gets a cute face from cesc (a mixture
of scrunched nose and a pout, that is).
cesc sings in the shower. some popular tune from america that robin’s heard so
much on the radio. robin took a shower just before cesc came last night, and
the bathroom is big enough for one and a half grown boy to share; the shower
has curtain and all robin needs to do is brushing his teeth. he doesn’t. he
waits; checking his twitter, facebook, and tumblr via his cellphone, but
doesn’t feel like telling his followers that his childhood friend is visiting
him after not talking to each other for about... has it been, like, a year
already? robin and his family sat two rows behind the fàbregas last christmas,
on a midnight mass where he couldn’t really tell whether cesc’s father and
mother already had their fall-out or what, because they all smiled proudly and
complimented carlota’s performance as part of the church choir. that was his
freshman year, the beginning of his and cesc’s very own fall-out as best
friends because robin got into his dream uni in central london and maybe, in
cesc’s mind back then, it felt as if robin was abandoning him.
to his defense, they’re friends on facebook and they follow each other on
twitter. robin wanted—wants—to apologize, to make the first move, to mend the
sudden big gap in their friendship even though he didn—doesn’t (never)
understand what the hell happened in the first place. and he always has this
gut feeling that cesc would be insulted to even let their friendship fall-out
spoken freely between them.
robin blinks when his face gets smacked by a wet towel. it smells like his body
wash.
“robin, i’m starving.” cesc jumps to the bed and pushes robin off with his
feet. “don’t take too long.”
robin shakes his head. apparently, he doesn’t have to think that much. if cesc
can act like nothing’s wrongwrongwrong happening for about a year then what’s
there to worry?
 
 
cesc doesn’t really talk during their pancake (american style) breakfast. he
orders strawberry milkshake and magically fishes out a half-eaten snickers from
the pocket of his tight black jeans. now that robin has paid more details to
his younger friend, well, cesc is still shorter than he was when he was
fifteen. robin pushes the rest of his peanut butter and jelly pancake to cesc
who happily finishes it.
the dark circles under cesc's eyes are gradually fading as the sun comes up
higher. the weather is great today, the sky is crystal clear. robin watches as
cesc reads the menu over and over again, fidgeting on the red cushioned booth
across from him, probably dying to have a chat with robin but is too stubborn
to do something about it.
it’s not that robin forgets he’s the older one here. according to his point of
view (excuses?) he sees a downturn that requires them to restart everything.
the span of nine years that they’ve known each other? deleted, gone, useless.
cesc is no longer the hot headed kid with the confidence of a rock star, he’s
that small kid who barely understood english and had bravely asked robin to
play fútbol with him.
and then robin remembers that he doesn’t have to think too much and nudges
cesc’s jiggling knees with his.
“wanna go to hyde park?” he asks, grinning, and an invisible burden is lifted
off of his shoulders when his best friend is grinning back at him.
 
 
they have a late lunch at the cafeteria of natural history museum and robin
buys cesc a glow in the dark, jelly-like brontosaurus toy and a miniature
gorilla from the shop, and then cesc holds his hand as they head back to
robin’s dormitory.
robin’s learned that cesc doesn’t ask. cesc takes. it’s only logical that robin
gives.
cesc’s hand is dwarfed out compared to his. but their hands fit, like a pair of
warm gloves.
(cesc hasn’t really talked yet.)
“let’s go to the cinema,” robin says as they’re about to reach the underground.
“how to train your dragon 2 is playing.”
“i want to watch maleficent,” cesc stops walking and looks to his left and
right, like an alarmed meerkat. “let’s go. where’s the cinema?”
they pick the centre seats. cesc sits cross legged with a big bucket of popcorn
on his lap and robin spends the two hours-ish movie to watch the lights playing
wonder on cesc’s relaxed face. cesc looks so much younger in the dark. robin
feels old.
cesc doesn’t hold his hand as they ride the crowded tube but he leans his
weight completely to robin’s who is leaning against a pole and robin hears him
sighing a couple of times like he can’t get enough. of what though, robin
doesn’t have any idea.
 
 
dinner is at nando’s but cesc doesn’t seem so energetic anymore.
robin knows cesc won’t like it if he asks are you okay, so he asks, “what?
tired?” with a teasing tone instead.
cesc shrugs.
“we can take these home if you want,” he nods towards the abundance of peri-
peri chicken on the table. “um, then we can watch cat videos on youtube?”
but cesc doesn’t want to watch cat videos by the time they’ve changed into more
comfortable clothes. cesc tip toes and plants a close-mouthed kiss to robin’s
idle lips and blushes, stammers, pushes robin away when robin tries to calm him
down.
“hey hey look at me,” robin grasps cesc’s thin wrists and locks them against
their chests, their heartbeats are overlapping and there are love and fear
reflecting on cesc’s dark chocolate eyes. the former is robin’s good friend
because he’s had a fair share of girlfriends in his nineteen years as mister
popular; it’s safe to say that he’s well acquainted with it.
but the latter?
“cesc,” robin whispers urgently, trying not to panic himself. he uses the tip
of his nose to rub the inside of cesc’s tense jaw. “cesc, it’s okay. i don’t
mind.” he moves one hand to rest it on his younger friend’s waist. “look at
me.”
the blush is spreading all the way from cesc’s cheekbones to his ears. it’s a
pretty sight, robin thinks.
“‘m sorry,” cesc clutches the back of robin’s black t-shirt. it’s like a deja
vu. “‘m so sorry,” he’s frowning and he looks like he’s going to burst into
tears anytime soon.
“i’m not,” robin moves the other hand to cradle cesc’s jaw and chin. his hand
is really big on cesc’s paling face. “do you hear me? i’m not.”
“but you don’t like boys.” cesc deadpans, the ever so petulant child, like he’s
not going to believe robin easily even though it’s perfectly clear that he
wants to kiss robin more than anything.
“i don’t like boys,” robin slithers that hand to the back of cesc’s neck. “i
don’t like boys. okay?” his thumb is drawing absentminded circles on the soft
skin there, and cesc is a smart fifteen year old, because without further ado
he tiptoes again to lick the bottom of robin’s lip with his spicy tongue and
robin opens his mouth wide, closing his eyes and kissing back.
cesc is breathing hard through his nose like he always does whenever he’s
angry. loud, miserable, and cesc-esque. except that this time it’s not anger
consuming cesc’s conscience, it’s wantwantwant.
robin wants, too.
cesc gasps when robin’s hands are traveling downdowndown and down, passing his
ass, pulling at the back of his thighs and then cesc is yelping, breaking their
kiss, obediently hugging robin’s head tightly and wrapping his thin legs around
robin’s torso as robin grunts, hauls cesc higher, and throws them both to his
unmade bed.
cesc oof-s and is about to grumble again but robin silences him with a brief
kiss.
“nnn don’t stop.”
“i won’t, just,” robin pushes at cesc’s knees, spreading cesc’s legs while he’s
sitting back on his heels, staring down at his best friend who looks like the
epitome of sinful yet irresistible wrongness; who looks painfully fifteen but
eager and sure.
“is this okay with you?”
cesc scoffs and raises his left leg to kick at robin, but robin is quicker. he
locks cesc’s ankles with his hands and gets the answer he wants.
oh, he wants.
“i blew my school team’s goalkeeper once,” cesc starts conversationally after a
meaningful exchange of sharp look and out of character shyness between them.
“yeah?” robin’s eyes dart down rabbit-quick to cesc’s swollen lips. “how was
it?” he leans down to rest his weight on his elbows, bending cesc’s knees so he
can settle comfortably on top of cesc.
“his size is just...” cesc makes a face, that half-pout half-scrunched nose and
upon thisclose robin can count the scrunched skin on cesc’s nose. “but i choked
anyway.”
robin laughs, only because he thinks it’s hot that cesc, his cesc, is openly
talking about sex.
“did you like it?”
“no.”
“what do you like, then?”
“you know who i like.”
“since when?”
cesc half-heartedly slaps robin’s unintentional smile off of his face.
“alright,” robin catches cesc’s bad hand and licks the inside of cesc’s wrist.
“are you sure about this? i think i could go to jail.”
cesc rolls his eyes. “idiot,” he lifts his hips up so robin can feel the bulge
straining his spiderman printed pajama pants. “you’re totally hard, too!” he
surges forward and bites robin’s chin until it hurts.
“ow ow, okay,” robin jumps off of the bed, rubbing at his chin, smiling like an
idiot for sure. “just tell me i’m your first,” he retorts as a joke, digging
under the mattress for his stashed lube.
cesc kicks his side, hides his face with both hands, and mumbles something that
suspiciously sounds like of course it will be you, jesus.
robin’s chest swells.
cesc doesn’t want to get completely naked and he tells robin to leave their t-
shirts on as he wriggles off of his pajama pants and underwear. robin complies,
presses a kiss on the hot skin of cesc’s navel, and folds cesc’s knees to his
chest.
“have you ever heard of fingering?” he swipes his thumb on the rim of cesc’s
ass and makes a circling motion. cesc moans.
“i tried it a couple of times, didn’t like it.”
“why?”
“look at my sad, chubby fingers.”
“girls would love your sad, chubby fingers.”
“ew.”
robin snorts. that was a trick question. he’d thought cesc, being fifteen and
all, is in his experimenting time with both genders. robin did kiss
approximately less than four boys before, but he didn’t get off with them. he’s
straight, but cesc has always been his. might as well losing his gay virginity
with the one who has never been anyone else’s right?
“robin, i’m dying here.” cesc pokes robin’s left ear with his cold toes. at
least he’s blushing.
“sorry,” robin apologizes to humor his younger neighbor and coats his long and
slim fingers with the water based lube. “open your legs,” he bends his upper
body to reach cesc’s hole, “don’t kick me.”
cesc grips the back of his spread knees with both hands, and yells when robin
uses his middle finger to probe in.
it’s different. the clenching is way, way tighter, though not as moist. robin
doesn’t want to hurt cesc, he’s not going to take a risk, so he pours more lube
straight to cesc’s hole and cesc gasps, his cock twitching alive.
“alright?”
“ngghh~”
robin adds his index finger and pushes it in along slowly. he stretches his
fingers to the side, not yet scissoring cesc’s ass but still trying to loosen
up the tighttighttight velvety muscles a little bit. cesc is suppressing his
cute moans by clamping his mouth shut, thinning his lips and biting his bottom
lip stubbornly when robin rotates his wrist and starts fucking him in earnest;
pulling out his fingers until only the tips are inside and then thrusting back
in faster and deeper.
robin is positively salivating when he gets his focus back and all he can see
is cesc lying on his bed, half-naked and willing and is pushing back against
his fingers wantonly, and all he can hear is the slick sound of his lubed
fingers preparing cesc’s ass for his cock.
slickslickslickslic—
“more?” robin asks, breathless.
“yes, please,” cesc answers, his nostrils are flaring cutely.
it’s three fingers now, and cesc’s body has gone all taut as he pushes back to
the intrusion, his thin legs don’t need to be held anymore for they’re staying
wide open in the air almost in automatic mode while cesc’s arms are straining
on his side as he grips the bed sheet tightly.
cesc’s sweats smell like johnsonn’s baby powder.
and fuck if it doesn’t stir robin’s cock even harder.
“cesc, cesc, listen to me,” he blabs as he pulls his fingers out
unceremoniously. cesc whines at the loss and glares and robin nearly rips his
striped shorts and throws it to the floor and doesn’t bother with lube, just
spits right to his palm and sighs deeply for the first contact he has with his
cock tonight.
“what?!” cesc impatiently sits up, looking annoyed for a blink of an eye before
gasping as he stares at robin’s length.
robin doesn’t even have time to feel smug.
“can i fuck you?” he asks, his heart is on his throat. he uses all of his
willpower to stop stroking his cock and digs his fingernails to his knees. “do
i have your consent, cesc?” he asks again, more desperate up to a point of no
dignity left because he knows he’s cheering out loud when cesc nods and
whimpers his consent.
“let me just—” robin jumps to his feet and goes to find his wallet. he keeps a
condom there, like any sexually active sophomore. except that he can’t find
any. he doesn’t know where arjen stashes his. fuck. bathroom? no such luck, van
persie. your backpack?
nope.
“what are you doing?” cesc weakly throws a pillow at robin who stands dumbly by
the bathroom door with his cock jutting out towards his heaving stomach, giving
up.
“i ran out of condoms,” robin whispers in defeat, running one greasy with lube
hand through his damp hair.
cesc visibly swallows, blinks, squares his jaw and shoulders, and whispers
back—but not in defeat, never—that he trusts robin, that i want you, robin,
please.
“are you su—”
“you’re lucky i’m too scared to ride your silly cock, robin, i swear to god! do
you want me to beg?!”
that’s funny and hot and exactly what kind of nervous nonsense cesc would spew
in the middle of getting laid. all those hot girls were never this funny. but
then again they’re not cesc.
is this what it feels like to walk underwater? robin is holding his breath as
he goes back to the bed. cesc is looking at him from behind his dark eyelashes,
shifting so he can reach out to wrap one arm around robin’s thighs and taking
robin’s cock with the other to bring it to his mouth.
cesc kisses the head of robin’s cock, puckering his lips and licking but not
swallowing it whole. it’s not exactly teasing. it’s like cesc is reminding
robin that it’s okay to surrender, look at me, i’ve always been yours since the
beginning, please don’t go.
robin gently untangles cesc from his body and pushes him back down to the bed
just as gently. cesc’s eyes are almost black when robin slips his left arm as a
makeshift pillow for cesc’s head, wanting to keep him closer during what
they’re going to do as soon as robin finishes lathering his silly cock with
lube.
“it’s my first time, too, so.” robin grits his teeth as he gives a couple of
measured tugs for his silly, hard cock. “fuck, cesc,” he chuckles/growls when
he spills a small amount of precum to cesc’s clothed belly.
and then he pushes in.
and everything else in the world is dulled in comparison to cesc’s tight heat
and the way it pains him physically to breathe in order to calm down because
jesusfucktheclenching! cesc’s throbbing inner muscles are suffocating his cock
and cesc is tensing all around him even more and is cesc blinking back tears?!
fuck.
“shit, cesc! cesc are you alright? i’m—” robin heaves as he uses his elbows to
push himself off of cesc’s smallsmallsmall body beneath him. he chokes as he
begins pulling his cock out of cesc’s ass, but then cesc sobs don’t please
don’t, robin, please stay please please i’m fine.
robin’s further protest is cut off because cesc is slamming his mouth to his
and he’s hiking his hips up to make it all easier for robin.
oh so much easier.
“oh my god,” cesc drawls out his moan as robin struggles not to fuck into him
senselessly. “oh god,” cesc closes his eyes, his mouth is open and his tongue
is peeking out as he pants a rhythmic ah ah ah in time with robin’s thrusts.
“oh god so good,” he shudders and goes pliant underneath robin’s rocking body,
his arms are falling to the bed to twist the sheet and his legs are tightening
around robin’s waist.
“yeah?” robin presses forward to plaster their upper bodies together, peppering
butterfly kisses to the juncture of cesc’s neck and shoulder, feeling the
pulses thrumming frantically just like their heartbeats. he entwines their
hands together, locking their fingers and squeezing, and doesn’t wait for cesc
to answer him; he begins to pick up his pace, already getting used to the
unbelievable tightness, liking the increased volume and intensity of skin
slapping against skin as he thruststhruststhrusts and thrusts the squelching
from the lube and his precum in cesc’s scorching hot ass sounds like the
filthiest porn ever.
“mmmnnghhh,” cesc mewls like a kitten, right before robin pushes himself up to
sit on his knees and grabs the back of cesc’s sweaty knees and pushes in harder
and then cesc shouts, his back is curving like a bow, as robin hits something
deep inside of him.
robin halts to a stop abruptly, sliding out halfway, helplessly spurting more
precum.
when cesc opens his eyes, they’re dilated and almost manic and robin knows he
didn’t do anything weird just then.
“what...” cesc croaks out, licking his lips, his labored breathing is hitched.
“robin, what?”
“i-i dunno,” robin rubs cesc’s kneecaps with his fingers. “was that good?”
“good? i think i saw heaven!” cesc yelps when his scoff is causing him to
clench around robin’s cock. robin pushes back in slowly to ease their urge.
“please do that again?” cesc makes grabby hands at robin, swinging his legs
higher to hook them on robin’s shoulders.
robin frowns, though.
“you’re gonna folded into half, y’know?” he ignores cesc’s spread arms to hold
cesc’s cute calves. “i mean, if i lean into you and fucking you like this?”
cesc blushes and he admits inaudibly, “my hips hurt.”
“aw, baby,” robin blurts out, not caring about future consequences that’s
suspiciously rhymes with ‘you should’ve known better’ from a certain spaniard.
“i’m not going to hurt you, period.” he firmly puts his hands on cesc’s ass,
easing his cock out and growling at the sensation of stretched muscles trying
to hold him in. “fuck,” he sighs pitifully at the sight of his purpling cock.
“are you okay?” robin slithers onto his side next to cesc, who has covered his
reddened face with his crossed, skinny arms.
“it feels so weird,” cesc pouts and robin chuckles, presses a smooching kiss to
his left elbow. “i was so full with your cock, but then i got so empty and it’s
like i want your cock in me all day long from now! ugh! i hate you!”
“now now,” robin slips one hand to cesc’s iron man t-shirt, going straight to
cesc’s pert nipples. cesc whines, but he’s not complaining. “we should jerk
off,” again, robin uses his other hand to cradle cesc’s head as he slides down
to level their crotches. cesc dutifully lies on his side, pressing their cocks
and blue balls together.
when robin pinches his right nipple hard, cesc sobs, “but i want your cock.”
“that good, huh?” robin moves his hand down to grab a handful of cesc’s ass and
cesc keens against him, doesn’t even bark at his lame confidence boost. fine.
“i assume you’re not that scared to ride my cock anymore?” he asks, putting in
his middle finger into cesc’s wet hole and when cesc gasps he continues the
lazy ministration.
cesc has the best reaction, though. robin is not sure whether his finger is
magical or cesc is just a slut for him. which is a good thing, of course. robin
hopes cesc is not going to develop a hobby of reacting wantonly to other, older
boys with his high pitched moans and awkward cuteness.
“hm? are you?” robin asks again, teasing again, squeezing his arm pillowing
cesc’s head.
“shut up, let’s do it.” cesc shoves robin’s face away when robin tries to kiss
him and blushing somehow prettily, he climbs to robin’s lap, urging robin to
sit up and lean against the headboard. what cesc does next can only be
described as obscene, in robin’s opinion, with how he reaches one hand behind
to guide robin’s cock to his awaiting hole and the other is bunching up his
iron man t-shirt so it won’t get in his way fucking himself down to robin’s
cock.
robin’s uncontrollable moan isembarrassing.
“ah,” fortunately cesc is too preoccupied to notice. “ah, god. it’s—it’s so
much better, robin, i hate you.”
“that—” robin chokes when cesc’s ass is pressed flush against his hips and
balls and fuck everything, he’s not going to last long!
“oh.” cesc bares his neck to the ceiling as he rolls his ass experimentally,
raising up a little and grinding down smoothly back. his nails are hurting
robin’s abs, and he looks so fucking hot when the hem of his iron man t-shirt
falls just above his equally purpling cock.
robin holds onto cesc’s spine, remembering that cesc said his hips hurt,
probably can act as cesc’s body anchor or something. cesc doesn’t seem to be
bothered anyway; he’s liquid-like and enthusiastic like never before.
“robin can you,” cesc huffs, slowing down, “can you shift to your left?”
“like this?” robin does as he’s told, thrusting up.
“nnn~nooo, more. again.”
“here—”
“AH!” cesc’s whole body jerks like he’s electrocuted and robin has to hold him
steady or else he’s going to fall to his back. robin thrusts up until his own
ass is leaving the bed and there’s a winning smile blooming on cesc’s face as
he hits the same spot for the third time that night.
“there?” robin keeps hitting what later he finds out on google as prostrate:
the holy button of gay sex (he swears he didn’t fail biology) and grunts when
cesc nods and accidentally clenches on him. “gonna come?”
cesc nods again and he looks so lethal when he climaxes with a couple of hard
strokes of his right hand; he’s not delicate at all, definitely different than
those pretty girls and their coy orgasms. cesc shudders and tightens impossibly
around him and robin makes sure he programs the way cesc flicks his skinny
wrist in his head for future reference.
robin gathers cesc’s boneless body to his arms, bends his knees,
fucksfucksfucksfucks into cesc’s swollen inner muscles, and muffles his growl
by biting a memento to the pad of cesc’s left shoulder, deciding that he
doesn’t think he will find any enjoyment from girls after experiencing the
wonder of coming in his underage best friend’s tight ass.
 
                                        

                                       ✖
                                        
                                        
the next day, a drizzly saturday, cesc sulks from the moment he wakes up until
robin half-runs to the nearest tesco to buy lots and lots of cornetto, mac n’
cheese, pepsi cola, and chocolate, banana, and mint flavored condoms per cesc’s
request because he’s curious about the flavoring on such thin, latex material.
the cashier is a middle-aged woman who winks at him and robin takes a mental
note not to go to tesco on saturday ever again.
cesc is exactly where robin left him; lying face down on the stained bed with
his earphones on. there is no television in the room, but cesc said he didn’t
want to watch anything that is not desperate housewives on robin’s laptop
(robin doesn’t watch drama, thank you very much).
robin heats up mac n’ cheese on the dorm’s communal kitchen and the creamy
smell is waking up grumpy—but sated!—cesc from his nap. robin smiles like an
idiot at him, but cesc blushes and looks away and tells robin to feed him.
“don’t ask,” cesc whispers when robin helps him getting up from the bed because
he needs to change the sheet. “it hurts, but i wanted it. so shut up.” he hugs
robin and nuzzles his face like a cat to robin’s chest. “i can’t wait to get
taller,” he’s still whispering, delaying robin’s task which isn’t important at
all, really. “i want to look at you straight in the eye, robin. i want to be
able to kiss you.”
robin lets cesc understand that his beating heart is palpitating because of
him.
the drizzle has become a thunderous rain.
“but i like you pocket sized like this,” robin says in a mock serious tone and
leans down to kiss cesc’s pouting lips.
“shut up.” cesc doesn’t kiss back, though, but it’s okay.
“i’ll wait,” robin pinches cesc’s cheeks and they spend the rest of the day
watching desperate housewives on the internet.
 
                                        

                                       ✖
                                        
                                        
cesc breaks the news like any fifteen year old would; being moody during the
date and is bursting into tears at the end. when robin was fifteen he didn’t
have to pseudo-break up with anyone, so he doesn’t have any idea how to react
to cesc telling him in between hiccups and snots that he’s coming back to
barcelona with his papi, that he couldn’t possibly choose his mami over papi,
robin, i can’t, i love him too much.
that, robin knows.
“b-but you can visit me,” cesc tries to smile and he looks so ridiculously cute
the spark of anger and disappointment in robin’s head are vanishing without a
trace. “you’ll like barcelona. and i told papi i’m going to your uni in three
years.”
“well,” robin wipes cesc’s face clean with his hand and smears the sticky
residue to his polo shirt. “deal. or i can find a job and settle in barcelona.
three years from now i’ll be twenty two.” he doesn’t elaborate that there’s a
hole in cesc’s logic; if he’s going to robin’s london based uni when he’s
eighteen then that means he’s leaving his papi all the same. robin can’t be
selfish.
“we can skype.” cesc sniffs and climbs to robin’s lap. arjen is out for the
weekend to his girlfriend’s, as usual. “i will send postcards.”
“of course,” robin sighs, “i’ll probably graduate when i’m twenty one.” he
sinks back onto his bed, bringing cesc down with him.
“and i’ll be taller than you by then.”
“i sincerely hope not.”
cesc laughs, but then his eyes are welling up again and maybe when robin was
fifteen he wasn’t capable of this endless amount of angst and love and fear
like cesc is currently having. when robin was fifteen he didn’t understand
those feelings at all. he’s lucky he has cesc to show him what he’s been
missing for years, and he’s grateful that he can be by cesc’s side through it
all.
 
 
 
 
 
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