Steve Finnan/Daniel Agger
Pairing: Steve Finnan/Daniel Agger
Fingers graced sides, tracing and invisible line from shoulder to hip. Kisses placed against a neck, wrist, shoulder (marking the skin, making it your own.) The sweat dripped from you, landing in the hollow of his throat, pooling there like a puddle collecting water. His fingers grasped the sheets, leaving to briefly grip your arms before sliding down to your hips, his nails leaving crescent shaped marks, along with thumb shaped bruises.
There was awkwardness (you laugh about it now, the awkwardness having left you, leaving you when you kiss him), a slight fumble followed by a sheepish look.
It wasn’t perfect. It had flaws (Daniel had smiled when you fumble a bit, his hands closing over yours making you feel slight like a twat). But then again you were never one for perfection and neither was he.
Your first time would not be your last. It would only be the beginning.
You mentally calculate your differences each time your with him. He was loud, young, and stupid at times. He was pale (‘So are you’ he snorted) and had tattoos covering half his body. He was twenty-two, and never nervous. You, Stephen, were quiet, a calm force to his storm. You rarely spoke, where as he never shuts up (only around you perhaps, and you wonder if you are lucky to actually hear him speak this loudly, this much).
It’s not that you didn’t like the differences, because don’t they always say opposites attract?
They say eyes are the window to the soul but Stephen finds that to be a bit of bollocks. Maybe because he’s a bloke and when he looks into eyes all he sees are pupils. He confesses this to Daniel once and Daniel raised his eyebrows at him.
‘Nonsense. Just look harder, yeah? You’ll see soon enough’
He shrugged of Daniel’s suggestion. It wasn’t like he planned to go around staring into his eyes like some woman.
However, he did learn to see beyond the pupils and to see deeper. He’s learned more from a pair of green eyes then words ever would tell him.
Stephen put his hands on a forehead. A body burrows farther under the comforter. A faint ‘fuck you’ can be heard coming from the lump on the bed.
Stephen frowns ‘What’s a matter with you?’
Daniel pops up and stares at Stephen.
‘I’m sick’ he manages to get out before a cough settles in.
He lays back down, closing his eyes. He thanks God for not having practice today. He expects Stephen to leave, muttering about Daniel over exaggerating, but probably going to make him soup none the less.
Instead he feels the bed dip down, and the cover rise. He hisses when Stephen’s fingers touch his hips, cause fuck their cold.
‘Sorry’ Stephen mutters.
He closes his eyes again. Stephen scoots closer, his lips on Daniel’s neck, jaw, before
rising up to his lips.
Stephen trails his hand lower, dipping beneath Daniel’s boxers, and fuck if this isn’t the best medicine.
Daniel isn’t sorry when Stephen ends up sick.
Daniel can’t hold his alcohol, this is a fact the
But that’s how they are now, Stephen driving Daniel home. Daniel curls closer in the seat, blocking out all light. Stephen doesn’t smile, or laugh just sighs.
Once in the driveway he manages to get Daniel out and on his feet. They only trip going up the stairs, Stephen managing the tighten his grip on Daniel as not to let him crack his head open on the pavement.
He tries to lead Daniel to the couch because he wants sleep. Not Daniel in bed with him. But Daniel resists, grabbing Stephen and manages to push him against the wall (Stephen wonders how he did it considering not two minutes ago he could barely stand on his own)
Daniel’s lips attack his neck, mumbling something incoherent against his jaw. He doesn’t protest to Daniel fumbling with his belt instead guiding him along.
The next time they go out, Daniel is again drinking. Stephen wonders what tonight will bring.
There are moments and memories Stephen keeps close to his heart. Things of his past that have made him who he is. He asked Daniel once what his favorite memory was. Daniel had pondered for a moment before answering.
‘My father, taking me to the park for the first time, teaching me to keep a ball. If it weren’t for that I doubt I’d be here’
Stephen looks at him and curls his hand around the back of his neck.
The next week, on one of their days off, Stephen drives Daniel to the park (Stephen doesn’t tell him that though, he just tells Daniel to get into the car). He parks dragging Daniel to an open field, dropping a ball on the ground. Daniel looks at him for a moment before kicking the ball at Stephen.
For the first time, Stephen feels, relaxed. Being able to play without the world on your shoulders.
He slumps to the ground, Daniel flopping down next to him. Daniel’s hand curls around his neck and he kisses him softly on the cheek.
There are things in your past you would like to forget. You push them to the back of your mind, leaving them to collect dust. This is what Stephen does. He forgets, because what is the point, he thinks, of holding onto something you could never change.
Daniel is different. He holds grudges. He doesn’t forget.
Stephen sees this in the way Daniel talks about his past. His childhood, how he hated school. You can see his fingers clench around the table (he doesn’t notice you staring). Stephen, being older, lets Daniel vent, because Daniel is young, he is still allowed to hold these grudges.
Stephen does though, reach across the table, to cover Daniel’s fingers with his own. Daniel stops mid sentence. Stephen can feel Daniel’s fingers loosen.
Daniel doesn’t smile, doesn’t say thank you. Instead he takes a breath in, sighs. He looks at Stephen and continues, he voice edging out any anger it might hold.
He learned, in the instance, to move on.
The future holds many unforeseen things. Stephen knows his time is winding down. He doesn’t think about it because he doesn’t know life without football. He knows, eventually, he will retire. Maybe he will stay in
Daniel tells him one evening to not ponder the idea, of leaving. Stephen looks at him and wonders.
‘Because I’ll still be here’ Daniel says, as if he read Stephen’s mind.
Stephen, for the first time is speechless. Maybe it’s because of the fact that Daniel has learned to love the club. Or maybe it’s because he is telling Stephen ‘Stay, please, I want you here with me because I can’t imagine not having you.’
Whatever the reason is Stephen doesn’t think about life after
It’s been six months. Six months since you learned to love the freckled Dane. You grit you teeth a the word love but you can’ t come up with something in it’s place, so you settle for love.
You briefly wonder if you know anyone as well as Daniel and you conclude that you don’t.
You know Daniel’s guilty pleasures, his love of philosophy, and reading books that kids his age shouldn’t bother with. These things you know best about him and you think maybe these are the reasons you could never end this.
Maybe it’s for the way Daniel will smile at you, on the pitch, at a pub, or at home (home, you think, involves Daniel because when was the last time he stayed at his own house).
He knows you, you think. He knows that when you rant, that he shouldn’t interrupt. Or when you get nervous, you want a little reassurance that you will do okay. He knows that you love all things Irish including the silly hat you bought one year for St. Patrick’s Day.
You are grateful to know Daniel like this because he is one to not let many people in. And for that you are grateful to know that you are one of few whom Daniel trusts, to bear witness to his secrets, his flaws, and above all his love.
Daniel dreams sometimes (Stephen smiles and politely corrects you ‘Your head is permanently stuck in the clouds’)
He wonders what his life would be like, if he hadn’t chose football, if his dad hadn’t brought him to that park.
He wonders what it would be like to have chosen to be a fighter pilot.
He thinks about what would have happened if he hadn’t chosen
He thinks of himself in a blue shirt playing against Liverpool and he’s quite glad he chose
He does this a lot, he thinks of different lives he could have led.
Stephen notices one day, when they sit in the grass (he sits, Daniel sprawls on the lawn, staring at the clouds). He starts in on something, maybe it’s about being a pilot again, Stephen isn’t sure. He does however kiss Daniel instead. Daniel looks at him, with a bit of confusion and anger.
Stephen shrugs, ‘Don’t think about what could have been, you’re here now and that’s all that matters’
Daniel doesn’t say a thing. Instead he sits up, kneeling in front of Stephen. He kisses him, softly on the cheek. For the first time he doesn’t think.
Stephen doesn’t miss Daniel over the summer. He thinks because this isn’t a relationship, there’s no need to get all lovesick about being gone. He doesn’t call Daniel once.
So when he leaves for the first time for International duty, he finds himself in surprise when he misses Daniel. He doesn’t want to miss him because he thinks, this isn’t love, this isn’t a relationship. He doesn’t call.
He is surprised when his phone rings.
He is more surprised at the voice on the other end.
‘I miss you’
Stephen doesn’t know what to say.
Daniel, luckily, doesn’t press it. He instead changes the subject going on about
Stephen finds himself smiling, listening to Daniel, and he thinks, I miss this, I miss him
He falls asleep to the sound of Daniel.
Daniel finds this whole thing unexpected. He never thought at any point would he be in a relationship. Let alone a man, a teammate. But he is.
And he thinks, I wouldn’t change this.
Because he lives for the unexpected. He lives for change and he lives for things of the unusual.
You briefly wonder what it would be like, had you not fallen for the Irishman. You wonder if you would have settle down, perhaps with a girl. Maybe you would have become wilder, gotten more tattoos.
But you don’t want to know.
Because sometimes the best things in the life are the unexpected.