sexifootie

                “Sergio, please, we’re going to be late!” yelled a frantic Fernando Torres through the closed bathroom door.

                “Just a minute, Fer,” Sergio sighed through the door as he flipped his hair and fingered some product through the silky locks. He looked in the mirror. “Damn, you’re good looking.” Turning around to catch a glimpse of his own cute ass, he winked, repeating the sentiment, “Damn,” and opened the door.

                “Oh my god Sergio, please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing,” Fernando moaned. He’d made the mistake of inviting Sergio Ramos to the Queen’s Royal Garden Party, also known as the single most important event of Fernando’s life. He’d hesitated to invite Sergio. He loved him, but Sergio was kind of an explosion. A firework. And he meant that in the best way possible – but just something that one wouldn’t necessarily want at a Royal Garden Party.

                Fernando wasn’t really sure why he was invited in the first place, but he wasn’t about to complain. (Didier Drogba insisted it was a mistake.) And although the party wasn’t for another 2 months, he began to watch what he ate. He’d hoped to lose about ten pounds, but only managed three. He’d purchased a new outfit for the event, and ended up exchanging the coat for a long tailcoat in hopes that it would disguise his rather plump derrière.

                He stood in shock in his brand new black tuxedo, top hat in hand, as Sergio emerged from the bathroom wearing brown flip flops, his favorite pair of red skin-tight jeans and a simple white button down featuring two stripes of plaid down the front.  He shook his hair once, and smiled jovially.

                “Ready, mi amor?” Sergio said, disregarding Fernando’s question. “Vamos a la fiesta!” Fernando opened his mouth in protest, but Sergio had put on his aviators and walked right out the door. 

Fernando hurried behind, “Sergio, I was going to call a limo, you don’t have to drive!” as Sergio removed his keys from the pocket.

“Ha! Nonsense, Niño. Why would you do that?” Sergio replied, as he walked with a playful air to his step to his electric blue Audi.  Good god, what would the queen think? Fernando panicked and began to sweat, dabbing a white handkerchief to his damp forehead. “Calm down, Fernando, it’ll be okay,” he thought to himself as he took a deep breath and got into the passenger seat, folding his coat underneath his plentiful bottom.

“Dios, Fernando! We’ve been outside for three minutes and you’re sweating already?” Sergio teased. “Maybe you should follow my lead and get rid of that silly coat!”

Sergio’s words hurt more than he could ever imagine.

Finally, the lads pulled up to the Grand palace, and stepped out of the car. Sergio handed his keys to a valet with a wink and a 5 pound note. They made their way to the intricate iron gates where a man with a rather fancy looking gilded clipboard stood.

With a smug look and nasally toned voice, he looked Fernando up and down, “Your name?”

Fernando stuttered, fiddling with the buttons on his coat “Ehm, Torres…Fernando,”

“Interesting,” the man replied, crossing the name off.

Sergio smiled and extended his hand, “I’m Sergio R—“ but the gatekeeper cut him off.

“Don’t be silly, Mr. Ramos, of course I know who you are! A big fan of Real, I am,” he grinned, shaking Sergio’s hand eagerly. Sergio signed his clipboard and the twosome was let through the gate.

All around them were men dressed identical to Fernando, in beautiful suits and polished shoes. Mixed in were women in pastels and white, with lovely little hats atop their heads. Fernando breathed a sigh of relief, as he put his own top hat on, glad that he fit in perfectly and wondering why he was fretting about his outfit in the first place. His sense of style was truly impeccable.

He looked around to find a familiar face, but no such luck…except for a certain Andalusian (sticking out like a sore thumb in his cherry red outfit, mind you) who seemed to have made friends with the queen. He must have said something funny, because the petite woman let out a grand bout of laughter in response. Sergio smiled, and from afar, Fernando heard his name, and suddenly they began to walk over to him.

Oh god, he was sweating again. Fernando patted his forehead with the handkerchief, and tried to look casual – pretending to examine the shrub he was standing next to until the queen, in a knee-length lavender number, and Sergio approached.

“Fernando,” Sergio began, startling Fernando who jumped slightly, turning to face them.

“Oh, hello Sergio,” He trembled, “And your majesty,” he removed his hat and swept himself into a low bow, reminding himself to compliment her white shoes.

“Your highness, this is my friend Fernando Torres,” Sergio said, gesturing to Fernando.

“Ah, hello Fernando! How lovely it is to meet you.” She smiled up to the tall man who blushed and returned the greeting.  Shortly after, she turned herself back towards Sergio. “My, Sergio, your outfit really is fantastic. I love to see a little originality at my parties. I’ll make sure that you’re on the list for all of our future gatherings,”

With a laugh from Sergio, the queen went to tend to her other guests, leaving Sergio to tend to Fernando, who looked rather uncomfortable.

“Sergio, can we leave?” he mumbled, with tears brewing in his eyes. The other man looked at him with a genuinely caring look, and stroked the hair off of his sweaty brow.

“Of course, baby,” he said, “Let me just go get the car.”

As soon as they walked in the door to Fernando’s house, Fernando stripped off his jacket, threw it on the floor and walked straight into his room and curled up on his meticulously made bed. It felt as though no matter how hard he tried, Sergio was always going to upstage him. Sergio was always going to be his competition, when he was supposed to be his lover. Sergio was always going to be more effortlessly charming, stylish, and more perfect than Fernando would ever be. How could one live like that? How could one live in the constant shadow of their significant other?

Tears began to fall, staining the pillowcase, as he kicked his shoes off and curled tighter into a ball on the bed.

“Babe?” called a quiet voice from the doorway. “Are you okay?” Sergio bit his lip, admiring Fernando’s cute ass that was pointed perfectly in his direction.

“Yeah,” replied Fernando in a small voice, wiping the tears from his face. “I’m fine.”

Sergio sighed in a defeated manner, slipping off his own shoes and sliding into the bed, fitting himself perfectly with the shape of Fernando’s solid body, placing an arm over his side, pulling him closer and placing a tender beso on the base of his neck.

“Sergio,” Fernando mumbled in protest, but Sergio put a finger to his lips.

“Shh, mi amor,” his fingers nimbly unbuttoned the front of Fernando’s shirt, so he could put his hand directly on the freckled skin. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing Fernando’s shoulder for a second time. “And I’m sorry.”

“Sergio, no, it’s –“ started the pale, fleshy man but was again cut off by Sergio.

“No, it’s not okay,” Sergio replied, stroking the side of Fernando’s arm before pulling his crisp, white shirt fully off.  “It was your big day,” he said in between kisses to Fernando’s torso, “and I’m sorry for ruining it. Next time I won’t go.”

Fernando smiled a little bit and whispered, “Who else would I bring to the queen’s party with me?” before pressing his lips on Sergio’s, and letting himself be laid back upon the bed. Sergio’s kind eyes were infected with love for the sweet, insecure boy underneath him. He wiped the hair away from Fernando’s forehead and left kisses down his torso. He unbuttoned Fernando’s pants and let his hand enter, teasing the manhood inside with one hand.

Brown, vulnerable eyes looked up at Sergio, and Fernando bit his trembling lip as Sergio began to pump his hardening cock.  With the other hand, he helped Fernando out of the rest of his clothing so Sergio could pleasure every part of him. Sliding his fingers down to cup Fernando’s pelotas, he let a finger circle the tight hole.

Longing filled Fernando’s eyes as he opened his mouth and let out a small moan of approval. Sergio pulled off his own shirt, and unbuttoned his red pants, pulling them off and exposing that he’d chosen not to wear any underwear that day. His thick cock was already hard from the sight of Fernando in such a position. Sergio let a finger enter him, pulling it in and out gently, eliciting small mews from Fernando as he involuntarily moved his hips with the rhythm.

“Más?” Sergio growled as a question, although it was almost like a demand. Fernando nodded eagerly as Sergio entered him, throwing his own head back in pleasure. He perfected their rhythm, his cock simply throbbing from the sexy noises Fernando made as he fucked him.

Sergio reached down and stroked Fernando’s needy cock and planted a kiss on his quivering lip. Fernando pulled him closer, as he came between them; getting both of their abdomens sticky with his cum. Sergio came soon after with a shudder, finishing inside before collapsing on top of Fernando and placing a kiss on the older man’s forehead. His plump, blushed cheeks and sweet smile exuded a certain joy and love that Sergio hadn’t seen in weeks. He pulled Fernando closer, and they slept in bliss till the morning.