Zimena (zimena) wrote in sports_rpf, @ 2008-04-20 13:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | sport: men's soccer, works: fic, works: slash |
Fic: Creep
Reposting an old fic here, just to share.
TITLE: Creep.
RATING: PG-13 because of the implications. Nothing explicit, though.
FANDOM: Football (soccer) RPS.
CHARACTERS: Vladimír Šmicer/Pavel Nedvěd and Pavel Nedvěd/Zdeněk Grygera. Vlade's point of view.
WARNING: Angst.
DISCLAIMER: I don't know or own them. I'm just borrowing them for a while because I'm a worthless liar. Don't you know yet?
WORD COUNT: 884.
NOTES: If you don't know who they are, I have a few pictures for you. Pavel here, Zdeněk here and Vlade here.
Vladimír isn’t really paying attention to the sports news on TV. Right now, it’s more background noise than anything else. Sometimes he finds that he gets tired of listening to the French language. Not because he doesn’t understand it, because he does. It’s more the fact that he is probably subconsciously focusing to understand, and sometimes it gets tiresome.
Especially if he also had to listen to an angry coach and a few rather dissappointed teammates for half a day. He doesn’t blame them, though. He’s dissappointed, too – at the result of yesterday’s game, but most of all at the way he played himself.
He sighs. Takes a sip from the water bottle, and glances at the TV screen again.
Ligue 1 football. Just what he needs – another reminder about yesterday’s game. Another reminder why he’s in such a miserable mood. As he reaches for the remote control, the report ends and is replaced by an introduction to the next report, which seems to be about Italian football instead. Still with the remote control in his hand, Vlade is suddenly paying much more attention than before.
Especially when he hears the word “Juventus” in the middle of all the French talk.
This is the first game of the new season in Italy. Pavel’s first game back in the Serie A. Vlade knows all about those things already. The excitement, the tension and just how much it would mean to win this first game. A quick glance at the mobile phone on the table tells him that there is no sms about the result yet. Sort of strange, isn’t it? Did they…lose? Oh well, he’ll get to watch clips from the game now, so he’ll find out soon enough.
The French commentator sounds more than a little positive on Juve’s part. No wonder, because it took them only a few minutes to score the first goal. A beautiful goal it was, too. Vlade isn’t sure who scored, but it’s good news anyway. He can’t help smiling slightly at the scenes of joy immediately following the goal. With everything that happened during the past year, it’s not hard to imagine that this is a special moment. And no-one deserves this joy more than they do.
However, there is a small sting in his heart when he catches sight of Pavel embracing Zdeněk with his arm. Just a little too tightly? Vlade has to tell himself to stop being stupid. Then, he focuses on the game again.
There are a couple of more clips with chances that come to nothing. Then, a well-executed free-kick, and it’s 1:1. Somehow, it’s kind of disappointing. In this case, the disappointment doesn’t last long, though. There is something almost familiar about the next clip. Pavel with one of his trademark long shots – hard, precise and out of reach for the goalkeeper – 2:1. A replay of the goal and then more joyful scenes and celebrations.
Just seeing Pavel’s happy smile at scoring such an important goal makes Vlade realize just how much he misses seeing that. For real, and not just on TV. There just something special about that smile. So beautiful and warm. Even more so right now than usually, or perhaps it just seems like that because it’s too long they met last time?
Vlade doesn’t know. Not until a moment later.
It can be hard to see exactly what is happening in the middle of a big group-hug. Most people would probably just notice a few screaming guys hugging seeemingly at random until the group dissolves a few seconds later. Vlade, on the other hand, doesn’t pay attention to the group as a whole at all. Instead, he notices the way Zdeněk pulls Pavel into a very tight embrace just a moment before the group forms around them. It’s not just the usual, happy, goalscoring embrace – this one is different, more intimate. Pavel doesn’t seem to mind the way he has Zdeněk’s hands all over him at all. A second later, when the group around them has formed completely and it’s no longer possible to see clearly what’s going on, Vlade thinks he sees Pavel placing a quick, tender kiss on Zdeněk’s lips.
Of course he can’t be sure. But still, there’s not a trace of doubt in his heart. If there ever was, it’s all gone the moment he sees Zdeněk’s expression when the camera focuses briefly on him as the group dissolves. Such an oddly content look. Such a knowing smile.
Vlade curses inwardly, and then swallows hardly. He is not sure which feeling is stronger right then. Sorrow? Disappontment? Anger? He is angry with Zdeněk for causing this. Perhaps it’s not a sensible way of thinking, but in that moment, he blames Zdeněk for everything. So sweet and innocent, isn’t he? And he knows it, too. Knows exactly how to exploit it to his advantage; to get what he wants.
Damn creep.
He isn’t aware that he’s still clutching the remote control in his hands, with such a hard grip that it almost hurts. Even when he notices, he just finds the off-button with an apathetic motion before putting the remote control back on the table, next to his mobile phone.
There’s still no sms. And most likely, there won’t be one for a while yet.