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"Vamoooosss!!!"
Paulo felt as if the whole world was cheering for him. He's scored so many perfect goals before, but has never felt more proud than he did when he passed the ball to Cristiano, assisting him to score an incredible one.
His grey-green eyes were glued to Cristiano as he watched him do his infamous "suiiiii" celebration, and he found himself running towards him, too drunk with adrenaline to notice the Portuguese man's eager, welcoming smile; the way he motioned for him with his hand to "come here"..
He was going to, anyway. Celebrating with teammates was more than common, it was in the average player's instinct. But him running to Cristiano's opened arms and throwing himself at him was a little bit more than an automatic reaction to winning...
.. Driven by whatever he's been trying to suppress for the past few weeks, is what it was. And even though he's been doing pretty well -or so he thought- but in moments like these he just didn't care. It was the adrenaline taking over, letting him jump in Cristiano's embrace, arms surrounding the man's strong neck while his legs wrapped around his waist..
The strong arms that held him close and steady lingered there, around his slim body, balancing him for the few seconds he spent climbed up on him, with his legs around the older man's waist. And even when he dropped them to the ground, Cris' arms were still around him, and even when their teammates joined in for group hug, Cristiano's arm was still locked strongly around his back. ...And even as they went back to resume the game, Cris was walking close by his side, too close. Paulo looked at him with an innocently clueless smile, and got an appreciative one in return.
- "Gracías, Paulo.." came out in a breathless whisper, with fingers ruffling the boy's hair in a way that Paulo was familiar with now. "..That was incredible"
You are incredible. He wanted to reply but didn't need to, the older man could read that bright and clear in his eyes.
"...I owe you one "
is what Ronaldo said before walking away, and Paulo felt the whole world froze around him. Cause in any other context this would mean something "work" related, a chance to score for instance, but not with the way Cris said it, with that look in his eyes.
The same look he's given him the other day, in training. Ever since then, Paulo has become utterly convinced Cris was reading his mind: every time their eyes met, every time heat took over his body when they touched, every time they found themselves alone in the changing rooms.. And it didn't help that their lockers were right next to each other, so fuckin close that he could smell Cris' perfume. Cris would often put his arm across him to get things, and every time Paulo would carefully shrink back. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist, that he'd fall apart at any point. And that scared him..
***
He had no idea how he managed to finish the game with these words swirling around his mind, making him dizzy.. Heading towards the shower and changing rooms, his heart pounding against his ribcage, he had an impending feeling something was going to happen. And as much as he craved it, he was terrified. Cause what if Cris was only messing with him, what if he enjoyed being thirsted over by his little fanboys, with no intention of acting on it?
Cris was nowhere to be found in the shower, which was.. good? -Paulo tried to convince himself- but the shower itself wasn't: He had to release some of the tension boiling inside of him by pleasuring himself, but before he could get to it the lukewarm water started to get colder and he jumped out of the shower cursing, freezing, dissatisfied, disappointed.
- " No more hot water, huh?" He was putting on his shirt in the changing room when the voice asked him from behind. He turned around and there he was, a shirtless Cristiano Ronaldo in all his glory. "Sorry about that". - " Nah, don't be.. I get it." he replied with a playful smile. "Our new legend and savior needs all the hot water he could get.. " he watched as Cris giggled at that then continued, "..y-you know I'm only joking when I say stuff like that, right? I mean... I know you probably hear negative comments all the time.. I just want you to know I'm not jealous of you, or anything.. in fact I'm glad to have you on my side, as a teammate I mean..." -"I know what you mean." Cris said quietly, almost interrupting him. That damn look darkening his eyes once again. "No need to over explain yourself around me, Paulo. "
The boy looked up at Cris through long lashes, stunned, unable to find words as he watched him step closer. He did not get to release himself, and now he's going to burst. Despite the growing unease and panic, Paulo kept his ground, his heartbeat pounding louder and louder.
- "you're shaking..." The man remarked, so softly as if talking to himself. All of a sudden the boy realized -and not without a bit of shame- his lips were trembling, blue probably, but that wasn't the worst realization he's made in that moment: he still hasn't put his pants on.
Only wearing a shirt and his briefs, he stood still as Cris lifted the towel from his shoulders and wrapped him in it. "There. We don't want our best player getting a cold, do we?" - "second best.." He did manage to smile, but his voice wasn't as steady as he had hoped.
Cris didn't smile at the compliment, though, he had a determined gleam in his hazel eyes, one that had Paulo's heart rate doubling with anticipation.
- " You gotta give yourself more credit, Paulino. " His heart shrank at the way Cris pronounced his name. He locked his eyes with the man's penetrating gaze as the towering figure loomed over him like a shadow. "You are, as they say about you, a gem.. "
That nickname was given to the young player by some journalist, and it stuck ever since. He's heard it countless times, and it never made him feel like an actual gem as it did in this very moment.
-"Th-thank you-.." Paulo's breath hitched when a big, strong hand cupped his cheek. Fingers slide behind his ear and through the soft hair at his nape. His front was now touching the man's naked torso, and he struggled to keep his eyes from wandering around the flawless lines of muscles sculpted on a gorgeous bronze canvas.
- "Has anyone ever told you you're very cute when you're flustered?"
Paulo opened and closed his mouth a few times. He could not formulate a response. There was no point in it, anyways, since his lips were now busy, locked by the other man's soft ones in a kiss that was balanced on the line between sweetness and passion. Paulo responded to the kiss immediately, a moan escaped his mouth as he felt the man's hands make their way down to grip on his waist, pulling him closer into him with a bit of force. His own hands rested on the sides of Cristiano's neck as they deepened the kiss. For some unknown reason, in the back of his mind, Paulo thought of the way he jumped into Cris' opened arms, earlier that day, in front of millions of cheering fans, and couldn't help but let that thought evolve and morph into their current kiss; what would these fans think if he'd kissed him, right then and there, on the pitch? He couldn't care less, and yet the thought gave him a dirty feeling of guilty pleasure that translated into another moan.
After a few moments that felt like eternity, he broke the kiss to catch his breath and Cris laughed, his own breath ghosting Paulo's lips:
- "guess I read it right."
Their eyes now opened , they met again as a honeyed sort of satisfaction settled over Paulo. He thought the man must feel the same, since his grin has turned into something private – a secret just between the two of them.
