Ghost Ghost

"Obvious" - A Cristiano Ronaldo/Fernando Torres Fanfic

Title: “Obvious”

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Thanks to EdenAnon for putting this together for me!

And for submitting this pic she found…

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They’re both great pics! Thanks, EdenAnon! xx

Pairing: Cristiano Ronaldo/Fernando Torres

Disclaimer: None of this is real…

Rating: 14+ (swearing, insinuations of sexual content)

Word Count: 818

Summary: AU - Cris and Fernando meet up in a hotel bar while Fernando is waiting for his friends, Iker, Cesc, and Ramos.

Comments: I appreciate you, Reader, and I want to hear your comments. I love talking to you all! xx

Notes: This was beta’d by iprefertosaynothing - Thanks, sweetie! I appreciate it. xx

Don’t link this story to any other social networking site or copy and paste it anywhere, especially livejournal or fanfiction.net. It’s my original story. Have some respect. Read it and leave it here. Thank you.

“You are being way too obvious,” a sultry Portuguese accent whispered into Fernando’s ear.

Fernando jumped and spun around on his barstool. He covered his mouth when he nearly choked on his vodka tonic. “Excuse me?” he croaked, still coughing quietly.

The owner of the sexy Portuguese accent was just as sexy as his accent. Fernando was more startled by that than his abrupt comment. The man slid onto the barstool next to Fernando and leaned in close to the Spaniard. Fernando leaned back a little to redistribute the distance between them. “I spotted you…” the man whispered. His breath smelled minty laced with the smell of fruity vodka. Fernando thought he looked like the fruity vodka type.

“Spotted me?” Fernando asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“Looking at me…” The man slid his hand onto Fernando’s muscular thigh. Fernando could feel the heat of it through his jeans. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. “I saw you.” The man leaned in further. “You’re way too obvious.”

“I – I was looking around for my friends. They were supposed to meet me here.”

The man pulled back a little; a cheeky grin on his face, right brow cocked suspiciously. “Friends? No one comes here to meet friends. This is where one comes to…”

The man was interrupted by Fernando’s phone buzzing on the bar. Fernando jumped and grabbed it. His hands were shaking and he nearly dropped it. The man had the decency to remove his hand from Fernando’s thigh and sit back.

Fernando swiped his finger across the screen to accept his incoming call and turned away from the mysterious man to answer. He hoped the man would be gone by the time he ended the call.

The man gestured to the bartender and whispered a drink order: watermelon vodka and another of whatever Fernando was having. Then he eavesdropped on Fernando’s conversation.

“Iker? I thought you guys were coming in tonight?” Fernando said quietly. He paused to take in whatever “Iker” was saying back to him and then said, “But… it was your idea to meet at this gay hotel.”

“It’s not technically a gay hotel,” the Portuguese man whispered in Fernando’s ear from behind.

Fernando jumped and slid off his barstool. He heard the man chuckle and scowled, but didn’t bother turning around to show off his patented scowl to the man. Iker was talking in his ear, but he missed most of it. What he did get was that Iker and his other friends were going to be a day late getting in, because they got drunk the night before and overslept.

“Okay, I got it. I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t miss another flight,” Fernando growled before he angrily hung up the phone.

“Need some company now that your friends bailed?” the mystery man asked in his seductive voice.

Fernando was annoyed with his friends and tired of this random guy’s games. He spun around – patented glare in place – and demanded. “Who the hell are you?”

The man grinned. “Cristiano,” he said, extending his hand to Fernando. He held it out though Fernando didn’t seem eager to accept it. “And you are…” he urged.

Fernando finally replied and took Cristiano’s hand. Cristiano shook it and then gave it a tug, pulling Fernando toward him. Fernando squeaked quietly.

“I saw you, Fernando,” Cristiano hissed in Fernando’s ear. His breath was warm on Fernando’s ear. It sent a tingle straight through Fernando. “I know you want me.”

Fernando pulled back a little. He had noticed the Portuguese man as soon as he walked into the bar and maybe he had unintentionally glanced at him a few times, but that didn’t mean…

“What room are you in?” Cristiano’s lips were pressed against Fernando’s ear. “I’ll meet you there in five.” He flicked his tongue over Fernando’s earlobe.

A strong part of Fernando told him to get away from this guy. He was too forward, presumptuous, and rude. A more demanding part in his pants told him to give away his room number immediately and let this mysterious “Cristiano” have his way with him.

To hell with inhibitions, he decided. His friends bailed on him. Rather than drinking until he was unconscious as he normally would after being stood up, he may as well let this sexy bastard tire him out in a much more pleasurable way.

Fernando pulled away and turned to the bar. He picked up the new drink that Cristiano had ordered while he was on the phone – watermelon vodka, chilled, but without ice – and knocked it back – just a little liquid courage.

Without a word, he removed his extra room key from his back pocket. He pressed himself against Cristiano and slid the key into his back pocket.

“Five minutes,” he whispered in Cristiano’s ear. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he added, nipping his earlobe as he pulled away. 

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