Something like that - part 1
☆ Summary: A glimpse into the hours following the Champions League victory in Oslo. You might or might not be wearing Patri's shirt through it all, which is a problem for a certain captain.
☆ Word count: 6.7K
☆ Warnings: (+18) SMUT • lot of dry humping • scissoring (again, yes) • boob love <3 • the captain armband stays on during sex • jealous/possessive Ale • mention of body image issues • baby alexia
☆ A/n: keeping score universe!! You will enjoy this fic more if you read these fics first
The Champions League final was here.
You had managed to get a few (precious) days off from the hospital, all so you could tag along to Oslo.
But travelling with the Football Club Barcelona meant navigating a game of hide-and-sick. You and Ale were still very private about your relationship, so much so that your presence in Norway has sent some small corners of the internet buzzing.
Online, the fans were completely split into two teams. Half of them thought you had come solely to support Clara, your younger sister, while the other half suspected you were there for Alexia, your rumoured girlfriend.
None of them knew you were there for both.
It was Clara's first time playing in a Champions League final, and since your parents were far too "busy" to make it to the game, you had made sure she would have someone cheering for her in the stands. At the same time, it was the first opportunity you had ever had to travel and watch Alexia play anywhere other than Barcelona.
Two birds, one stone.
When the final whistle blew, you were in the stands wearing a Guijarro shirt. The shirt had been a very strategic decision on your part.
Alexia and Clara had both suffered absolute meltdowns at the mere thought of you wearing the other's number and name. There was no chance you were subjecting yourself to the humiliation of a half-and-half shirt either, so you had ended the argument by picking up Alexia's phone, texting Patri yourself, and asking if she could sort you out a shirt with her name on it.
Clara had retaliated by making sure you could hear Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo playing from her room for three days straight. It was, indeed, torture.
Alexia, meanwhile, had pouted and declared that you were officially banned from kissing, hugging, or holding her hand until you came home with a shirt with her name and number eleven on it.
You did not cave.
She lasted four hours without kisses, hugs, or hand-holding. You didn't mention it when she finally folded. You just smiled into her hair as she pulled you in, both of you pretending the temporary ban had never happened.
Your plan had never been to go down onto the pitch for the celebrations.
You didn't want fans spotting you and Alexia together, which you knew would happen the second you were within a few meters of each other. You had told both Ale and Clara that beforehand, and they had agreed, after, of course, being babies about it.
But then the fans began to leave the stadium, the medal ceremony things were dismantled piece by piece, and the red and blue ribbons settled in the turf.
That's when you saw it.
Across the pitch, Alexia was laughing with her mum and uncle, tucked between them as if she were a little kid. A little further, Cata was wrapped up with her girlfriend and parents. Pina was surrounded by her mum and cousins, all of them talking over each other.
And then there was Clara.
She stood all by herself, a gold medal hanging around her neck, quietly watching everyone else. It was long past the moment when teammates were celebrating with each other; now they had all turned toward their own families. And Clara's family consisted entirely of you and your brother, who hadn't been able to take time off uni to come.
You felt your heart crack right down the middle, pieces of it falling in the stands. Before you could think better of it, before you could remind yourself why you had promised to stay in the stands, you were already moving towards the barrier.
You showed your credentials to the security guards, and they let you through without a second glance.
Clara didn't see you coming.
You caught her by surprise, wrapping your arms around her shoulders from behind. She gasped when she saw it was you, and you knew it was a sound you were going to carry around with you for a long time.
She was just so, so happy.
The expression on her face reminded you of when she was younger, doing dance recitals. Back then, she would search for you in the audience because your parents thought those performances weren't worth attending. As she spun around inside your embrace, her smile looked exactly the same as it had all those years ago. Except now, with fewer baby teeth.
You pulled her into a tighter hug, burying your face into her shoulder because, of course, she was taller than you despite being the youngest. The edge of her medal dug painfully into your sternum, but you ignored it.
"I'm so proud of you, Clarita," you whispered, "Te quiero, mana."
"Te quiero," she replied, kissing your cheek. "Thank you for being here."
Neither of you moved for a long time, and although there were plenty of people around, talking nonstop, it felt like this tiny space between the two of you was the quietest place on the entire pitch.
"You said you wouldn't come down," Clara murmured, squeezing you even tighter. "You said we would meet back in the locker room."
"I was being silly," you said, smiling up to her as the bear hug finally came to an end.
Your ribs were hurting. When had Clara gotten so strong?
You pulled back just enough to take the medal in your hands, turning it carefully. "I needed to see this medal up close, no?" You smiled. "You deserved it, bebé."
Clara rolled her eyes. "Don't call me bebé. I'm nineteen."
You ignored her completely as you reached up and pinched her cheeks. "Mi bebezota!"
"Urgh!" Clara groaned, trying to escape your grip. "Stop! You are embarrassing me"
A grin tugged at your lips. That was exactly what you wanted.
"People are watching, you know," she added.
People were watching indeed. Including Alexia.
It hadn't taken long for her to find you.
You obviously spotted her before she saw you; she was standing several meters behind Clara.
The moment her hazel eyes landed on you, something in her whole posture softened; a beautiful smile spread across her face even as she held herself carefully still, stiff, almost rigid.
Her shoulders were far too straight, the professional façace held tightly in place. She, as much as you, was entirely aware of how many broadcast cameras were following her every move.
It was almost as if she were waiting for you to make the decision.
Seeing her standing there, her temples covered in sweat that slipped down her collarbones, her face flushed from the game and from being smothered in her mother's affection, the identical gold medal that also adorned her neck....
She was pretty, and yours and the distance suddenly felt far too ridiculous to be taken so seriously.
You patted Clara on the back when Syd and Aicha called her to take some pictures. After watching her go, you turned and started walking towards Alexia.
She smiled at you the entire way.
When you stopped in front of her, you immediately pulled her into your side. You were hyper aware of your surroundings, so you kept the gesture simple, safe and casual.
You slid your arm around her shoulder, nothing more. You leaned in close enough for only her to hear, whispering a "mi campeona" right into her ear. Then you pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
You hear her breath hitched, the puff of air that came out of her mouth was slow and warm against your neck as she instinctively leaned into you. She squeezed your waist just a second too long, just a fraction harder than any friend normally would.
"I thought you weren't coming down?" she murmured the exact same word Clara had said only moments earlier.
"Mhmm," you whispered, reluctantly stepping away from her, putting a more friendly distance between you. "I changed my mind."
Behind her, Eli and her uncle were watching the interaction with matching smiles.
You had met Alexia's family a few months ago, and along with the team, they were among the very few people who knew exactly what you meant to her. Something much, much more significant than her protegé's sister.
"Hola, mi amor!" Eli exclaimed, stepping forward and pulling you into a motherly hug, completely unconcerned by the cameras around you. "I'm glad you came down! I told you, it's fun being on the pitch after they win."
"Hey, Eli," you said, smiling and kissing both her cheeks. "You were, once again, completely right."
You turned in a slow circle, taking in the stadium, taking in everything.
"Everything feels far too big down here." You turned to Alexia. "How can you even play? I feel so tiny, like an ant."
Alexia shrugged, a soft look in her eyes. She always got those whenever you and her mom were together.
"You get used to it and--Mama! I told you I'm not cold" she pouted.
Alexia twisted away, trying to dodge as Eli attempted to drape a heavy coat over her shoulder.
"But you are shaking, bebé!" Eli insisted.
"I'm not shaking, mama," Alexia protested, already blushing. "I'm just–"
Before she could finish, you felt an arm suddenly land over your shoulder, dragging you slightly sideways.
"Guapa! Hi! look who's decided to join us. Got tired of hiding in your cave?"
Patri's voice was excited; she was always the sweetest on the team. She looked like she had been to war and back, maybe for them footballers, the Champions League final really was war.
"Hola!!!"
Another voice came. Kika appeared beside Patri, vibrating with energy, her dark hair sticking out in every possible direction. You knew those two would party a lot tonight.
Patri's brown eyes dropped to your back, her grin widening as she noticed the name printed across the fabric.
She looked over at Alexia, raising one eyebrow with mischief.
"Look at that, Ale," Patri teased, patting your shoulder proudly. "Your girl knows talent when she sees it."
Alexia's eyes narrowed playfully, her lips pressing into a tight, pouting line as she stared at the Guijarro shirt covering your torso. She looked at you, her eyes shining with that possessive spark you had come to adore. To expect.
Kika laughed, leaning into Patri's side. "Oh no... capi's a bit mad."
"I'm not mad," Alexia countered smoothly, though her eyes never left yours. "It's a nice shirt. It just happens to have the wrong number on it.
By the time you made it back to the hotel, Alexia had been grinning ear to ear for approximately forty minutes straight. She knew perfectly well what the two of you were going to do once you set foot into the hotel room.
The team bus wasn't leaving for the club for another hour and a half, but Alexia did not seem particularly invested in the public celebrations anymore. At the moment, she appeared to be significantly more excited about kissing your entire face.
The door had barely clicked shut behind you before her hands were on your waist.
"I'm so happy you are here, mi sol," she whispered against your lips, her voice raspy, probably from running so much and whatever singing had taken place in the locker room afterwards.
She kissed you gently at first, and then deeper, before resting her forehead against yours, breathing in slowly. Breathing you in.
"You looked pretty in the stands," she murmured. "My favourite fangirl."
"I'm your favourite even while in Patri's shirt?" You teased softly.
"Shut up," she murmured with a breathless laugh, not allowing you to mutter another word as she captured your mouth again, sucking your tongue.
"You won't be wearing it much longer, so enjoy it while you can."
You were fairly sure you would.
Her hands settled on your hips as she slowly guided you backwards through the room. There was something confident in her steps; they were so deliberate and confident, for a moment, it was easy to forget you were in a hotel a few kilometres away from her actual home in Barcelona.
The back of your knee bumped against the edge of the bed, and you let yourself fall onto it, with Alexia following right after.
You kissed her, tasting her champagne-tinged tongue, she felt weightless on top of you.
Her captain's armband was still hugging her bicep tightly; of course, she hadn't taken it off. Once you had told her how much you loved it when she fucked you with it, she had started to keep it. Her heavy gold medal was still hanging around her neck, swaying between you like a pendulum.
Alexia was exactly as good as she thought she was, completely dominant on and off the pitch. The way confidence seemed to be radiating off of her in a way that was equal parts dangerous and attractive.
Your hand travelled down to her lower back, your finger sliding beneath the waistband of her shorts to squeeze the firm flesh of her ass. You shifted under her, tilting your body just right to force her pelvis closer to yours.
"It was hot watching you play," you murmured against her mouth.
You leaned up, caught her lower lip between your teeth, biting into it enough for you to hear a small whimper fall from her tongue.
She pouted at you, her eyes hazy, unfocused. She was completely fixed on you, silently asking you to kiss it better.
You didn't make her wait, pulling her down once more.
"Soy su campeona?" Alexia whispered into the narrow space between your mouth. Her voice sounded much smaller than usual, completely bewitched, and slightly tipsy. [Am I your champion?]
"Si," you whispered, your hand clutching her ass. "Mine, only mine."
Alexia smiled and caught you in a kiss.
Her hot mouth trailed down the line of your jaw, dragging over the side of your throat. One hand guided your head gently aside as she found the hidden and sensitive spot right behind your ear, choosing to brand you there, sucking firmly until you knew it would leave a purplish mark.
A mix of a giggle and a gasp escaped you as your hand settled on her shoulders. "A hickey? Really? You teased. "How old are you? Sixteen?"
She huffed a laugh against your pulse point. "I deserved it, okay? I won the Champions League. I can do whatever I want today."
"Mhm," you hummed, tipping your head back a little further to give her entirely uninhibited access to do as she pleased. "I suppose you can do whatever you want with me, yes."
"Si?" She asked dangerously.
Even without looking, you could feel the slow, coy smile pressing right against your jugular.
"Uhum," you nodded as much as you could under her weight.
"Joder," she cursed, her breath hitching as the absolute submission in your voice sank in. Her hips shifted, rolling hard and against yours as she pinned you to the mattress. "Voy a correr si sigues diciendo eso." [I'm gonna cum if you keep saying that.]
She kept moving against you; it was clear that the confession made her turn absolutely relentless. She took off your shirt, leaving your torso bare.
She pressed her body completely flush, the medal a cool contrast between your breasts, while the rough fabric of her armband brushed against your arm. Her mouth claimed yours once more, her tongue pushing deep, the taste of champagne still there.
You could, somehow, feel her wetness through the fabric of her shorts, slick and hot.
Your fingers dug deeper into the meat of her ass, squeezing as you tilted your own body, forcing her pelvis to drag exactly where you needed. "You're so fucking hot, Alexia."
Alexia moaned low straight into the kiss, then broke it to trail her lips back to your neck, sucking another mark right beside the first.
"Mía," she murmured, voice dropping as her hips found a steady rhythm. [Mine]
Her clit was pressing and sliding against yours through layers of clothing. Her chest was absolutely perfect against yours. She nipped at your earlobe, her breath becoming faster and faster with every passing second.
"Dilo otra vez," Alexia demanded, grinding harder. [say it again.]
You arched up to meet her, your hands roaming beneath her shirt to feel the sweat-slick skin of her back. She trembled when your fingers dug into the tense muscles there.
"You can do whatever you want with me, baby," you breathed right into her ear. "Whatever you want, sí? I'm yours; you deserve it. I'm all yours tonight."
"Ah," she moaned, the medal clinked softly with every roll of her hips. "I want to fuck you nice and slow."
She was growing impatient with the barrier of clothes between you.
She shifted, yanking her shorts down just enough to bare herself before turning her attention to you, working at your clothes with impatient tugs until skin finally met skin.
Finally, you were both completely naked.
When her bare pussy finally settled over yours, your folds parted wetly under the weight. She resumed the grind right away, clit to clit, moving in slow circles.
"Oh god, you feel so good," you gasped, eyes dropping to watch the way her slick coated you, it was so messy, so raw, so fucking delicious. Your eyes landed on her armband again and that only made you get wetter. "Damn, Alexia. You are fucking dripping baby."
"Joder, amor" She hissed again, her voice cracking as overstimulation hit her. "Tan mojada-" [you're so wet]
Still, she kept the pace even, riding the shared wetness, her body soft yet controlled as she chased the edge without rushing towards it.
Her medal continues to swing between you, a constant reminder of the massive victory waiting just outside the hotel room.
Her hands slid up your arms before settling around your wrists, pinning them above your head.
"You get so bossy when you win," you manage to say, rolling your eyes. You loved it when she got more dominant.
Your head suddenly felt so heavy.
You weren't sure whether it was exhaustion, dehydration, or simply the overwhelming intensity of the day catching up with you.
You were so overwhelmed with the way her body was touching every centimeter of your skin, how her kisses were getting sloppy and wet.
She was desperate, and you were, too. Your cunts were grinding, making a mess on both your bodies, the slickness dripping down her pussy right into yours, soaking you completely.
"I'm bossy and you fucking love it," Alexia shot back, moving her body carefully, trying not to crush you, but apply the right amount of pressure to your clit. "You are soaked, mi amor, all for me, huh"
She was, of course, right.
Keeping one wrist pinned above your head with one single hand, Alexia used the other to grip your thigh firmly, spreading it wider.
"Stay like that," she whispered while absolutely devouring your neck. "Don't you dare move."
Alexia shifted you as if you were a rag doll, moving your legs how she wanted until her cunt was aligned to her liking.
"Next time you wear my shirt, si?" she murmured, jealousy still thick in her voice as her cunt moved with yours.
She looked down at you, her eyes dark as she kept rutting against you. "Tengo mi coño pegado al tuyo, y todavía no llevas mi camiseta?" [My cunt is pressed against yours, and you're still not wearing my shirt?]
"Mhmm," you moaned. Fuck.
You were gonna cum.
"Tell me who is going to make you cum," she asked, as if reading your mind, her voice was low as she continued her movements.
The pleasure was becoming so intense, you were going to snap.
Alexia's dirty talk was way too good. Her pussy was pulsing over yours, all slick, dripping down to soak the white sheets between your thighs.
Alexia pinched your arm. "Ouch!" You gasped, caught between pain and pleasure.
"Who is rubbing your cunt? Me or Patri?"
"Y-you," you managed to say, breathless.
"Who marked your whole neck?" She asked again. "Who gets to have you naked in her hotel bed? Who, mi sol?"
The sensation pushed you over the edge right after, your body arching up into her as waves of pleasure took over you.
"F-fuck, Ale," your body was going limp, all warm as the orgasm took over. "You baby, you, always you."
Alexia, sensing your orgasm, rutted her cunt faster until she was climaxing all over you. "Oh, god–" she moaned in your ear.
She stayed exactly where she was afterwards, naked and beautiful on top of you.
Your pussies were still pressed together, warm and dripping. Alexia nuzzled lower until she found your breast, drawing the nipple into her mouth with slow and comforting pulls.
Her tongue flicked lazily, her breath warm and even against your chest as she settled in, tasting the mix of sweat on your breast, while her fingers played with your other nipple.
"You didn't answer my question," she mumbled from your breast after a minute.
"Ahn?" You asked, your mind far too dizzy. You hadn't even realised she was on your breast, when you did, pleasure began to grow again. "I did, no-?"
"You'll wear my shirt?" She asked, her words slightly slurred. "Next time? Please?"
"Oh," you said, nodding against the pillows, your voice still shaky from the climax, it was so… intense. You weren't sure you would ever regain all of your breath.
"Yeah, of course. I mean…" A laugh escaped you. "After this, how can I not?"
Alexia made a pleased sound deep in her throat and kept her lips sealed around your nipple. Her body stayed relaxed on top of yours, her frame soft pressing down.
You realised it was probably the first time she felt at ease and relaxed since she woke up.
Her thumb continued to touch over your nipple, rubbing slow circles before giving it a gentle tug and roll between her fingers.
"We need to get ready for the club," you murmured eventually, your fingers threading through her now-brunette hair. "It's getting late."
She whined softly.
She sucked a little harder for a moment, refusing to lift her head. Her thumb kept playing, flicking and pinching the other nipple while her hips gave one lazy grind that made both of you shiver, your clits brushing.
"No..." she mumbled around the peak in her mouth. "Stay like this. Just a little longer."
"I can't be the reason you are late," you said with a chuckle, still combing your fingers through her hair. "It's not good for my reputation. I'm new to the Barcelona circle, the girls need to like me... they won't if I make their captain late."
"The girls will never think anything badly of you," Alexia said, her mouth finally unlatching. She rested her cheek against your chest, listening to your heart. "You are too sweet for that."
You chucked at that, staring at the beige hotel ceiling. Was it beige? Or had it once been white and simply not been cleaned properly in years.
"Sweet? Me?" You chuckled. "Okay, maybe love really is blind."
Alexia looked up, frowning. "What? You are sweet, gentle, caring-"
You shook your head, a hint of a self-deprecating smile on your face. "I'm not bebé. I'm stressed all the time. I'm moody as soon as I wake up. I'm constantly worried about something or someone-"
"Because you care," Alexia interrupted instantly.
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, no longer putting her full weight on you; she looked down at you with a very fierce expression.
"You are worried all the time because you care about your patients, about your siblings…" Her voice softened slightly. "About me."
You looked at her with soft (and slightly sad) eyes.
"I think you see me in a much better light than I actually deserve."
"I see you just right, mi sol," Alexia said, leaning down to kiss your lips.
"My sweet." Kiss.
"Pretty." Kiss.
"Gentle." Kiss.
"Loving." Kiss.
"Girlfriend.
You were smiling second one. You didn't try to stop it.
"You get too cheesy when you cum," you whispered, a sudden blush creeping up your cheeks. "It's adorable."
"I know, perdon," Alexia replied, pouting down at you without a single ounce of regret.
"I'm sorry I don't get cheesy," you murmured. "But I swear I love you just as much."
"It's okay," she chucked. "I know you love me. This is the first time you have actually taken time off for someone. That has to be true love."
You squinted your eyes, your cheeks heating up even more. "And who exactly told you that?"
Alexia chucked, leaning down to press a warm kiss on top of your blush. "Your sweetheart of a sister."
"Of course she did."
As it turned out, actually getting out of bed and preparing for the night was considerably less romantic than the books made it seem.
Once Alexia finally untangled herself from you, the two of you were forced to acknowledge the mess the sex left on the hotel sheets.
There was a large, damp stain stretched across the middle of the bed. The lingering scent of sex and slickness was mixed with the light breeze coming through the window.
Alexia did not seem remotely concerned about the ruined sheets, instead, she just propped her head up on her hand and simply watched you with a big and proud grin on her face.
You, in response, blushed all over, immediately scrambling for the duvet, dragging it up to your chin to cover yourself.
"Stop watching me like that," you pouted, clutching the fabric tighter.
Alexia rolled her eyes and continued to smile.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, moving smoothly without a single hint of instability; you were certain you would be wobbling if you had been topping the way she just did.
She walked across the room to fetch the two white hotel robes hanging by the wardrobe.
She slipped one on herself before returning to bed with the second. She gently tried to pry the duvet away from your tight grip so she could put the second one over your shoulders.
"We had sex less than twenty-four hours after we met for the first time," she teased, tugging playfully at the duvet. "Back then, you had absolutely no problem being naked around me… And now you are embarrassed?"
You rolled your eyes, holding it for dear life.
"Back then, I was thinner. But you know what they say, happy relationships make you gain weight." Your gaze dripped over her athletic frame. "Bon… unless you are a very disciplined footballer, then apparently, you don't gain a single kilo."
Alexia's playful expression vanished instantly, replaced by genuine worry.
"What!??" She blurted. "Are you having issues with your body? Like... body image issues?! Mi amor, you are the prettiest woman alive!"
You rolled your eyes at her dramatics. This was exactly why you hadn't said a single thing until now.
"No, I'm not having any issues," you said. "I know I'm... fine. I'm just different than when we started dating and–"
"You are, like, hotter now," Alexia interrupted, stating it so blankly and firmly as if she was merely speaking facts.
"Huh?"
"You are hotter," she repeated. "Because you are my lovely, beautiful girlfriend now."
You smiled at her, your heart feeling warm. The poor thing was trying hard to reassure you.
Your sweet, sweet girl. "Gracias, Ale."
"No, baby, I mean it," Alexia insisted, her tone changing to something so incredibly tender and sincere it made your chest ache. "You are perfect. Your face is perfect, and your body-"
Your grip around the duvet loosened, and Alexia took advantage, finally managing to wrap the robe around you. "And your thighs are perfect, and your tummy is perfect… and everything about you–"
"Okay, love, that's enough--"
"If I could, I would eat you whole."
You blinked at her.
"Okay, that's literally cannibalism."
"Some cultures see cannibalism as an ultimate act of love and adoration," Alexia countered immediately.
She said it with the most profound, soft, tender and deadpan face. She was completely serious, looking at you like a proud cat that had just caught a dead bird and was offering it as a sign of love.
"Oh, okay," you said, as you reached up and patted both her cheeks. "Thanks, my love. I'm feeling much better now. I would absolutely let you eat me whole if it wouldn't result in the complete ceasing of my existence."
"Really?" Alexia asked happily, her eyes lighting up. "Would you do the same to me?"
What the hell kind of sweet talk even was that?
"Oh... yes," you said with fake enthusiasm. "Of course."
Alexia beamed, looking incredibly happy and touched that her (bizarre) feelings were being fully reciprocated.
Relationships, however, and as sad as it seems, were not built entirely on sex and body image conversations that somehow end up in discussions of cannibalism, you see. Most often, they were not; there were arguments. Petty and ridiculous arguments.
Like the shower.
"Okay… we really need to clean up and get dressed," you said, glancing towards the bathroom. "The bus is leaving soon."
Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder. "Let's take a shower together then," she murmured against your skin, her voice dropping to a seductive cadence.
You let out a dry laugh. "Nice try, Ale."
Alexia stepped in front of you, her face collapsing into a (guess what?) pout.
"Mi sol, please?" she pleaded, yes, pleaded. "I love you and your body, and we love taking showers together, sí? Come on, please? Pretty please? You say I'm your champion, no? Don't I deserve to take a shower with mi amor?!"
You stared at her for two full seconds before you folded.
You always fold. It was entirely Eli's fault for creating a woman with the prettier, most stupidly devastating puppy face ever made in the world. Nobody could say no to those eyes.
"Ugh, fine," you sighed, letting her take your hand and lead you to the bathroom. "You do deserve it."
Slowly, the reality of what she had accomplished began to settle over you, a warm feeling took over your torso, a smile appeared on your face, and Alexia noticed it.
She grinned too, pushing you gently against her, one hand sliding to your robe as she backed you against the tiled wall.
She was all over you, kissing you until your knees felt weak.
You caught her jaw in your hand, and she leaned into the touch. "You really won, huh, bebé?" you whispered again, "yeah, yeah... you really do deserve it."
"Your girlfriend is a European champion," she whispered back.
She grinned again before she stole another kiss, her hips drifting a little to yours.
"Ale, no," you gasped, pushing lightly on her shoulder. "We seriously cannot have sex again. We'll actually miss the bus, and I'm not taking an Uber to the club. That would be a proper walk of shame."
"No sex, no," she dismissed the concern with a wave of her hand. "Just a little kissing," she bargained, punctuating the statement by nipping at your chin.
"Okaaay," you said slowly. "Kissing, yes, but under the shower."
You both stepped into the shower stall. You reached over and turned the knob, settling the temperature to your preference. You waited a bit till the water completely heated up and then walked under the water, feeling it soak over you.
So warm. So perfect.
Alexia, still wearing that confident and romantic smile of hers, stepped directly behind you. Okay, maybe you could fit in a quickie and-
Alexia went completely silent behind you. Then… her eyes flew wide open.
Before you could even register what was happening, a hand clamped around your waist, and she yanked you backwaters out of the stream of water.
"Joder! Estás loca?!!" She said, frantically wiping stray droplets of water from her face as though she had just been splashed with HCl. "The water is burning my skin! It's melting me!" [Fuck, are you crazy?!]
"That's the temperature I like to shower at!" You protested, completely bewildered by her reaction. "What is wr–"
"You are making a soup out of yourself!!" Alexia looked so genuinely horrified, you were starting to wonder if the water was really that hot. "You are a doctor, you, of all people, should know how bad this is for your skin! It's gonna fall off!"
You cautiously stuck a hand back under the stream.
It felt oh so lovely… warm, comforting. Exactly how a shower should feel.
"You are being dramatic again, Alexia!"
"I'm not!" she said. "You want us to stand in boiling water!"
"You and Clara," you said, shaking your head. "Dramatic as hell. That's why you get along so well. Exactly the same personality."
Alexia opened her mouth to argue, and then snapped it shut. Apparently, she did not appreciate the comparison to her teenage protege, and got deeply wounded by it.
In the end, the romantic shared shower never happened.
Alexia kept her robe on and sat on the closed toilet lid while you showered, her arm crossed, pout deep in her lips. She watched you through the steam the entire time, her eyes fixed on you, refusing to look away for even a second.
When you finished, the two of you switched places.
Alexia then proceeded to shower at a temperature that, according to her, had been specifically designed for people who weren't actively trying to cook themselves alive.
Not everything is as romantic as it seems.
You were halfway through putting on your shirt when Alexia's voice drifted out from the bathroom, muffled by the glass door and the rushing water.
"You know I gained weight, too, right?"
You paused, confused, with your arms caught awkwardly in the fabric. "Uh?"
After a second, the sound of the shower cut off.
Alexia emerged wrapped in her hotel robe, her damp hair dripping down her shoulders and right onto the wooden floor. Unlike you, she actually had to wash her hair after being on the pitch for so long.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
You silently counted every single drop that fell.
"You said disciplined athletes don't gain weight," she explained, pulling at the collar on her robe, which seemed too tight on her; her skin was red and irritated. "I gained two kilos this season."
You stared, still confused, but then the realisation finally set in. She was still thinking about what you had said earlier.
"Bebé," you sighed, your arms dropping to your sides ."You don't need to do that."
"Do what?' She frowned.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about,' you said, turning away from her toward the small vanity to start doing your hair. "I'm fine, Ale. Really."
"Well," she began, stepping closer. "And you don't need to do that – saying you are fine just because you don't want to talk about something."
You rolled your eyes, focusing on the mirror and and how your hair was completely inconsiderate of the fact that you had places to be tonight.
Alexia didn't like to be ignored.
Predictably, she appeared behind you a second later. For a brief moment, the angry dog in you wanted to snap her, tell her to back off because her wet hair was soaking through your dried clothes.
But then she rested her chin on your shoulder. In the mirror, you noticed how her cheeks were still pink from the shower. She smelled overwhelmingly like generic hotel shampoo because she forgot to pack her own, and the lightning made her hazel eyes look somehow greener.
The anger completely dissipated. You let her stay.
"I love your body," she said quietly, her eyes on yours through the reflection.
You softened even more. "I know you do, Ale."
She pressed a soft kiss against your neck, and you continued. "I never worried about that. You have never given me a single reason to, okay?" you said.
It was the truth. Alexia had always looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Always. From the very first day back at her house until now.
"You always make a point of showing it, ale," you murmured, feeling a deep need to reassure her.
"Okay, good," she said, pleased with herself.
For a moment, you genuinely thought the conversation was over, and you could go back to fighting with your hair. But then her expression shifted, turning serious again. "So… where is this coming from, then?"
You looked away from her reflection, or tried to. A million different reasons passed through your mind, but none of them seemed serious enough or logical enough to be the actual reason behind it.
Maybe it was the junction of it all. Maybe it wasn't just one thing. Or maybe it was just you, fighting with that universal human flaw, that dangerous voice that made it hard to feel fully satisfied with yourself.
You shrugged, choosing the simplest answer you could find. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Oh, but we are talking about it," she said, delivering with certainty as if a conversation didn't always need to be bidirectional.
You rolled your eyes again. "Alexia, the bus–"
"The bus can wait."
"It literally cannot."
She pressed a firm kiss to your cheek, then finally released her hold on you. She let the robe fall carelessly to the floor, leaving her beautiful naked body entirely free for you to look at.
She was really an unfairly pretty woman. Then, killing your fun, she grabbed a fresh towel to dry her body off.
"Okay," she said, drying herself and then beginning to brush her wet hair. "We'll talk while we get ready, that way we wont miss the bus."
"Oh Jesus Christ," you groaned, letting your forehead rest against the glass of the mirror.
"The faster you talk," she sang out, completely cheerful. "The faster we leave."
"You are so annoying," you sighed. "And incredibly stubborn."
"And excellent at time management," she countered, clearly proud of herself.
"And insistent," you mumbled, though you couldn't help but smile. "So annoyingly insistent."
"I prefer the word tenacious."
You rolled your eyes at that.
You were quiet for a moment, desperately hoping she would let the silence take over and drop it. But Of course, she didn't. She was tenacious, unfortunately for you.
"It' just…" You hesitated, thinking of ways to put it. "Everyone around you is so... fit. You know?"
Alexia paused her brushing, looking at you. "What? Everyone?"
"The girls on the team," you explained, your voice dropping a bit. "Their girlfriend, your other friends… Everyone in that circle is so into the gym and everyone is so athletic and they all look a certain way."
"And what does that have to do with you and your body, amor?" she asked softly. "They are them; you are you."
You opened your mouth to give a very sharp and pragmatic answer, but the words never came. You couldn't think of a single thing to say.
Yeah, what exactly did that have to do with you?
For once in your life, you didn't have an answer, and you absolutely hated that. You were witty, rapid thinking, you always knew what to say, but right now, you were empty of logic and words.
Alexia instantly sensed your distress, as always, she saw right through the quiet.
"Eres guapísima," she said tenderly, putting her brush aside and walking back over to you and gently cupping your face.
You felt your cheeks warm, but she didn't stop. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then your chin.
"Hermosa, preciosa," she murmured against your skin. "Perfecta. Mía."
You laughed, weakly trying to push her shoulder to hide your face. "Okay, okay, got it. You are like, super, hopelessly in love with me."
Alexia just grinned. "Something like that, si."
She locked her arms around your waist, pulling you against her and bringing her mouth close to your ear. "You will always be the prettiest woman in every room – or pitch – that I ever walk in, okay? Don't forget that."
You rolled your eyes, trying your absolutely best to look unimpressed, but unfortunately, your smile completely gave away.
☆ A/n: I really really wanted to write something "realistic" and domestic about the final, so why not with our keeping score babies? Someone asked me once what shirt reader would wear to a game, so this is the answer hehe. I got an ask a few months ago about reader feeling a bit insecure because everyone around Alexia was so fit, so I decided to add it to this fic. I'm sorry if it was too random, but I feel that keeping score reader would be a bit upset and try to hide it and I didn't want to write a whole blurb around it.
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