Fic Title: Guilt Author:zimena Rating: Mild R, I guess? Fandom: Football (soccer) slash Pairing: Pavel Nedvěd/Zdeněk Grygera Summary: It's hard to avoid the heartbreaker's trap when he wants something, and even harder to deal with the mixture of guilt and desire that comes from allowing things to progress too far, too fast. Disclaimer: I don't know these people, I'm just borrowing them for a while. No harm or disrespect intended. I made this story up, and that makes it complete fiction. Author's Notes: Don't know who they are? If so, I have a couple of pics for you. Pavel here, and Zdeněk here
The grass tickled his fingers when he rested his hands almost behind his back.
Pavel had meant to come here just to practice for a bit, take his mind off the confusing thoughts and do something pleasant for a while. Usually, it helped to spend some time on the pitch – the bodily exhaustion would help him relieve mental stress. Not this time, though. He had only been here for a few moments when he realized that he couldn't stay focused on his training.
In the end, he just sat down in the grass. First, embracing his knees with his arms, then putting his hands behind him, absent-mindedly picking at a few strands of grass while going over the events from earlier that night in his mind for the umpteenth time.
«Aren't you going to come inside for a bit?»
Zdeněk had smiled, almost laughed when he asked. Almost like he expected a «no». Fake expectations, of course – no one in their right mind could refuse such an innocent invite. Not from him. Not when he was smiling like that. So, Pavel had accepted – almost without thinking, and definitely without any plans other than to go inside and talk for a bit longer. Besides, that was already more than he had planned. He had only meant to drive Zdeněk home – only because of the heavy rain, and possibly because they had a good conversation earlier, and the same, nice tone between them as always before.
Only that. Nothing more. He definitely never meant it to come to this, and couldn't even point at the exact moment when things started to go wrong.
Perhaps when he had accepted the glass of red wine, though? He remembered it very clearly – Zdeněk's remark about how it wouldn't be nice of him to invite people inside if he didn't give them at least something to drink. Then, that little half-smile again, and a slightly nervous tone to his voice when he continued.
«Unfortunately, this is all I have. I know it's not much, but don't say no – please?»
Of course, Pavel couldn't refuse. Maybe he wouldn't have done so anyway, but in that moment it was just impossible to do anything else than to accept. Besides - one glass of wine couldn't hurt. It couldn't be that dangerous, right? Well, at least if it wasn't for the fact that Zdeněk stood almost dangerously close for a moment when he had poured the wine in their glasses. Pavel wasn't sure if that was deliberate or not. However, he was very aware that he could have moved away a bit – it wouldn't have been unnatural. But – he had not done so, and he still couldn't quite explain why. Maybe it was the way their eyes met in just that moment – just briefly, but long enough for him to notice the little sparkle in Zdeněk's eyes.
It was one of those moments when he just didn't think. Why on earth hadn't he taken that as a warning?
The thought annoyed him, and he got to his feet just to walk along the sideline for a bit, as if walking would help in sorting his thoughts out more easily. However, he noticed neither where he walked nor the fact that the rain made his clothes stick to his body. After pacing up and down for a few moments, he just sat back down in the grass on the opposite side of the pitch from where he started just a few moments before. The wet grass would leave stains on his clothes, but he didn't care. In fact, he didn't even notice it when he automatically embraced himself with his arms because it was getting cold. Somehow, the pictures from earlier that night were clearer in his mind than what was happening in the present moment.
The memories still gave him a strange tingle in his body – an almost scary feeling, so unlike his reactions earlier.
Neither one of them moved away, despite the fact that they were probably both aware of being too close to each other. It felt almost natural, after the first moment of inital surprise. However, Pavel was still a bit confused about just how they ended up kissing right there, on the couch. He knew that at one point, he had moved a bit just to put his glass down on the table. When he leaned back, he did so against Zdeněk's arm. That position felt surprisingly comfortable, and he remembered how they almost laughed at each other – just the sweet kind of laugh, not the cautious, uncomfortable one.
The quick, soft peck on the lips that followed felt like a natural turn of events, too. However, Pavel had not meant to kiss back quite that intensely. He should have realized in that moment that this was dangerous, and should have broken the kiss at once instead of allowing Zdeněk to deepen it. Perhaps it began with an innocent kiss, just on the lips, but it certainly didn't end that way. When they broke the kiss, it wasn't with the same, soft and nervous laugh as before. In that moment, Pavel certainly didn't mind that Zdeněk's hand was slid inside his shirt, and didn't pay attention to the lust in the younger man's eyes. The touch felt hot against his skin, but the sharp and suddenly very clear feeling of shame and guilt hit him hard when he realized what they were doing.
He couldn't go through with this. At least not yet. Still – the way Zdeněk looked at him when he pulled away hurt more than anything else. He couldn't forget the dissappointed look in those hazed eyes, and couldn't explain anything in that moment. Nothing, except the few words he managed to whisper before he left.
«Please, forgive me? I...,» his voice broke and he had to swallow before finishing the sentence. «...I...We can't do this.»
Then, he had left. However, he was still not sure it had been the right choice.
He got up, slowly, suddenly too cold to stay here anymore. A couple of wet strands of grass still clung to his skin, but it didn't matter. He could always remove them, wash them off when he got home.
If it had only been that easy to deal with this new sense of guilt, and desire, too.