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Jude was in the passenger seat of the car, but his body was completely leaning towards the driver. The carbon fiber center console was an inconvenient obstacle, so he solved this by resting one knee directly on the leather upholstery of Erling's seat, encroaching on its space.
There was an almost childlike urgency to close any distance between them, as if gravitational force would inevitably draw them into each other's orbit as soon as they escaped anyone's field of vision.
His right hand moved up Erling's neck, his long fingers digging into the blond strands that still held the scent of citrus shampoo from the locker room shower. Haaland, his back pressed against the locked driver's side door to make room, kept one hand flat at the base of his boyfriend's spine, desperately pulling him closer.
The rough touch contrasted with the slight tremor in his eager fingers. And that always captivated Jude… that giant, stoic fool completely in love and surrendered to him.
Their kiss was unhurried, but it carried all the intensity of those who had spent two hours exchanging lustful glances on the grass during training. There was always this silent admiration that built up pressure in their chests, the pride of seeing the other shine transformed into pure physical hunger.
Seconds earlier, as soon as they got into the car, Erling had initiated the touch firmly, testing the limits, until he slowly sucked on the full flesh of Jude's lower lip. The younger man immediately yielded with a low sound that died back in his throat, opening his mouth to let the Norwegian's tongue meet his in a hungry rhythm. Jude tasted the familiar and deeply comforting core of Erling, that feeling of belonging that overwhelmed him.
With each change of angle amidst those kisses, the yellow and black fabric of their tracksuits rubbed against each other, mixing the soft sound of friction with their panting breaths. Erling slid his free hand down Jude's side — his pale, large fingers traced up his ribs, beneath the light fabric. The caramel skin was warm, contrasting with the cool touch of that hand, which made the smaller man lightly bite the Norwegian's lip as a shiver ran through him. Erling sighed against his mouth, intoxicated by the soft texture of that body he adored so much.
“Erling…” Jude managed to murmur, pulling his mouth away just a few millimeters, his beautiful lips glistening and reddened by the pressure. Their warm breath mingled in the cramped space. “The security guard at the gate comes by here every half hour.”
Haaland didn't even bother to open his eyes. He let out a low chuckle, which Jude felt vibrate right against his chest, and took advantage of the proximity to carefully sink his teeth into his delicate chin, slowly moving up to the sensitive curve just below his ear. That deep sound made Jude's stomach churn with anticipation, because he adored his perfect boyfriend's perfect laugh.
“Let him pass...” Erling whispered against the skin there, his voice considerably hoarser than usual, and his accent dragging out the words. He inhaled Jude’s scent, mingled with the natural warmth of that smooth, soft skin. “The car’s locked, and the windows are tinted. No one will see anything in here.”
To prove his point, Erling's hand on Jude's waist tightened a little more, pulling him definitively closer, causing his hips to settle entirely against his own. Jude let out a sharp sigh, his fingers gripping the other's broad shoulder tightly enough to wrinkle the fabric of his clothes. There was so much security in those immense arms that Jude simply switched off any trace of paranoia.
Haaland's hand, which had been on the Englishman's ribs, moved up to the nape of his neck, his cold fingers forcing the handsome face down, urgently seeking his mouth once more.
Jude yielded to the tug, finally transferring all his weight to Erling's lap. Now, with both knees firmly planted on the sides of the driver's leather seat, he molded himself perfectly to the other's robust build, completely seated in his lap. The sensation of being swallowed by Erling's physique brought a comforting warmth, a delicious submission that Jude only allowed himself to feel with him.
The older man's lips pressed against the younger man's with force and hunger, the fresh minty taste of a mint consumed minutes before mingling with the warm, salty, and earthy flavor of the subtle sweat that still lingered on the line of Jude's lip. His tongue invaded the soft, velvety cavity, tracing the roof of his mouth with its tip, eliciting a muffled groan that vibrated directly against his teeth.
Jude responded with the same intensity, deepening the angle. The sensation of Erling's large fingers firmly on the nape of his neck, the knuckles brushing against the base of his skull, gave him an intoxicating feeling of simultaneous surrender and control. With his free hand, he groped Haaland's broad chest, feeling the fabric of the jacket stretched over the tense muscles and the heartbeat between his ribs, hammering in a frantic, uneven rhythm against the palm of his hand. That racing heart was the greatest proof of admiration Bellingham could ask for… A man that size completely desperate for his touch.
Jude's skin, where Erling's cold fingers had traced up his ribs, now burned with need. Each underlying caress sent shivers straight to the base of his spine. Erling slid his mouth from his upper lip to the corner of his mouth, sucking on the sensitive skin before descending again to his chin, leaving a wet, glistening trail under the dim light from the digital panel.
Jude arched his back as Erling's hip moved slightly beneath his, and the firm pressure of the growing erection made him gasp for breath and dig his short nails into his massive shoulders. A wave of liquid heat spread through his lower abdomen, numbing any rational thought.
“You’re hopeless…” Jude murmured against Erling’s mouth as the kiss broke for a second to catch their breath, their brown eyes finally opening, heavy and focused entirely on the other’s pink, full, and moist lips.
Erling opened his eyes immediately afterward, the vast blue fixed on Jude, his pupils visibly dilated in the dim light of the vehicle. All passion overflowed from his blue irises... for Erling, Jude, in any situation, was the most beautiful sight on the planet. A sly, provocative, and confident smile appeared on his face.
“You’re the one rubbing up against me, Jude. Don’t put the blame on me,” Erling retorted, his voice rough and low.
Slightly, to cut off any counter-argument, he immediately wrapped both hands around Bellingham's narrow waist, pulling him down against his own erection as he leaned forward a little further.
Jude let out a soft laugh, the sound mingling with the brushing of their noses. He didn't try to deny it. Instead, he slid his hands across Erling's broad shoulders, down his robust chest until he found the zipper on his jacket. His fingers fumbled along the metal with a haste that made him curse under his breath.
He needed to touch Erling's skin, he needed that tactile confirmation that it was just the two of them there.
The older man followed the movement with half-closed eyes, his heavy breath hitting Bellingham's exuberant face. When the zipper finally gave a few inches, revealing the warm, milky skin at the base of his neck, Jude tilted his face and pressed his lips there, right where Erling's pulse was racing, rapid and erratic.
The striker threw his head back, his skull hitting lightly against the driver's side window. A deep sigh escaped his teeth as his enormous hands slid down the smaller man's hips to his thighs, gripping the herculean muscles firmly. Jude's touch on his neck sent a wave of heat straight to the center of Erling's chest, a feeling of vulnerability that made him want to protect and possess the Englishman at the same time.
The ever-growing rigidity of the erection beneath him made Jude gasp, his head spinning with the overwhelming excitement. With one last peck, he pulled away from his boyfriend's neck to seek his clear eyes in the darkness of the cloudy late afternoon in Dortmund.
"Erling..." the name came out in a trembling whisper, laden with an affection so deep it almost hurt.
“I know,” Erling interrupted, his voice vibrating so low it seemed to come straight from his chest.
He raised one hand, his long fingers caressing Jude's cheek with all the tenderness he reserved only for his boyfriend, his thumb wiping the corner of the Englishman's mouth that still bore the trace of the previous kiss.
"But you're so... damn, you're so fucking fine."
Erling couldn't resist and moved forward, quickly pressing his lips to his in a stolen kiss before smiling slyly.
Jude's response came in the form of a hip movement, pressing the heat of his buttocks against Haaland's erect penis beneath the layers of clothing.
The movement elicited a low growl from deep within the Norwegian's chest, and his large hands slid down, possessively gripping the Englishman's buttocks, squeezing the firm flesh through the shorts and pulling them up forcefully, locking their bodies in a perfect fit. The sensation of being perfectly aligned, even through the fabric, made Bellingham's chest swell with euphoria.
A drawn-out moan escaped Jude's throat as he slowly began to rub rhythmically back and forth, dying directly into Erling's mouth as he invaded it again. The older man's tongue always moved with an obsessive slowness, mapping every corner of Jude's mouth as if it were the first and last, while the midfielder responded by sucking devotedly.
Jude released one hand from Erling's hair and let it slide down his neck, slipping his fingers inside the collar of his already open jacket. The skin there was burning, covered in a thin layer of sweat that made his fingers glide easily across his broad chest. He lightly scratched the older man's strong collarbone, moving down until he found the shy nipple beneath his undershirt, playfully pinching it with his nimble fingers.
Erling arched his back, his breath completely failing. He broke the kiss with a sharp tug, their lips parting with a wet pop and a small smile etched on them. His blue eyes, now almost completely darkened by dilated pupils, locked onto Jude's. Without a word, he slid his right hand under his jacket, scraping the roughness of his calloused fingers across his defined stomach until he grasped the hem of his t-shirt, pushing the fabric up until it was tucked into his chest.
The direct contact of the cold palm against the burning skin made the midfielder's stomach muscles clench, letting out a trembling sigh. Erling leaned forward, burying his face in his boyfriend's neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses, light sucks, and short bites that climbed up the tendon line to the jaw. His hand moved up and down the ribs, feeling their ridges, his fingers pressing into the skin to leave marks. Jude felt marked, mapped, entirely belonging to this man with a firm touch and warm breath.
“Baby… p-please,” Jude gasped, his voice faltering, his eyes squeezed shut as he threw his head back, exposing his throat even further to the Norwegian’s hungry lips. His hands desperately searched for the waistband of the blond’s workout shorts, his fingers hooking onto the elastic, pulling him closer with each thrust, wanting to eliminate the last obstacle remaining between them.
Erling responded to the tug on the elastic of his shorts with a heavy gasp, his mouth leaving Jude's neck for just a second to find the perfect fit of his collarbone. He sank his delicate teeth there with pressure, on the edge between pain and pleasure, making Jude arch his entire back against the steering wheel, his hands gripping the leather upholstery of the seat so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
“See? You want this as much as I do…” Erling whispered against Jude’s warm skin, his voice reduced to a hoarse hiss, his warm breath clinging to his sweaty skin.
The friction between their hips intensified. The fabric of their clothes gave way under the pressure, allowing them to feel exactly the heat and size of each other's erections, an exhausting friction that threatened to push them to the limit even before their clothes were completely removed.
Jude opened his eyes, his vision blurred by arousal, meeting Erling's gaze inches from his own. He brought both hands to the Norwegian's face, gripping his cheeks tightly, forcing him to look directly at him as he raised his hips to surrender completely. There was a silent plea in his brown eyes, an absolute surrender that Erling always recognized quickly.
“Fuck, then hurry up,” Jude gasped, his mouth pressed against his, their lips brushing together carelessly. “And really touch me.”
Slightly, Erling pulled down the elastic of Jude's shorts with a sharp movement and, in the blink of an eye, he was completely naked from the waist down. The older man's other hand was already pulling down his own shorts, the movements now dominated by a blind urgency.
Jude didn't wait... his fingers, still trembling with adrenaline and pent-up desire, helped push the thin fabric of the Norwegian's clothing down from his hips, freeing his heavy, throbbing penis and eliminating the barrier between them once and for all.
When their delicate, sensitive skin finally met without the interference of fabric, the thermal shock elicited a drawn-out, unanimous sigh from both. It was an almost painful relief, the perfect fit of two lovers who had spent the day longing for that moment.
Erling was considerably larger, a mass of firm muscles that pressed Jude's legs wide open against the sides of his hips, and the sensation of being completely exposed on top of the striker's body made the younger man tremble from head to toe, his eyes closing tightly from the wave of immediate pleasure, to the point of seeing kaleidoscopic blurs behind his eyelids.
Erling placed both hands directly on Jude's thighs, his calloused fingers gripping the flesh with possessive force, leaving marks that would surely last until the next day's training session. He leaned forward slightly, fitting his hips against Jude's with torturous slowness, testing the friction, feeling the natural moisture and the intense heat that concentrated in the cleft of his buttocks.
“Look at me, Jude,” Erling ordered, his voice heavy with the need to see the other's intoxicating core through their gaze.
Jude opened his eyes, his pupils so dilated that the dark coffee brown of his irises was almost imperceptible in the dim light.
With a slow, determined movement, without breaking eye contact, Erling generously licked the palm of his own hand and spread the saliva over his penis, positioning it perfectly towards Jude's anus. When he finally penetrated him slowly, inch by inch, Jude threw his head back, a long, sharp moan escaping between his parted lips, while his short nails scratched Erling's shoulders through the coat still on his body.
The feeling of being filled was ecstatic. A warm expansion that always makes him feel completely dominated and, paradoxically, immensely loved.
It only took Bellingham a second to adjust, and then, when he himself felt comfortable enough, he fumbled desperately with his fingers.
“Ah… fuck, just go ahead… fuck me, Erling.” He begged, his voice broken into soft moans and long sighs.
Jude's request shattered any remaining control Erling was trying to maintain. He clenched his teeth, the muscles of his jaw throbbing beneath his skin. He gripped Jude's hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the caramel skin above his buttocks, and delivered the first deep thrust, filling him completely in one go.
Jude let out a loud, sharp groan that echoed through the stuffy interior of the car, his mouth opening in a perfect arc of pure shock and pleasure. His whole body tensed, his toes curling against the air as he desperately clung to Erling's massive shoulders, burying his face in the crook of his neck.
“Damn, Jude…” Erling roared in the Englishman’s ear, his voice so deep and hoarse it sounded like a scratch. "You are... so fucking perfect."
Slowly, he backed up almost to the limit and then pushed again, initiating a firm, heavy, and possessive rhythm. With each deep thrust from Erling, the car swayed slightly on its suspension, and the muffled sound of their bodies mingled with the echo of Jude's moans and their breathless gasps.
Jude was completely surrendered to that rhythm. He began to move his own hips in response, lowering himself towards the Norwegian with each thrust, seeking to sink even deeper into that perfect fit. The sensation was exhilarating. His nails scratched Erling's back beneath his clothes, pulling at the fabric, while his mind became completely clouded, focused only on the wave of heat rising through his insides. The smell of leather, the sweat, the sound of lips parting… everything became fuel for pleasure.
“More… ah, Erling, faster,” Jude pleaded through gritted teeth, his half-closed, moist brown eyes fixing on his boyfriend’s dark blue ones. Sweat now glistened on his forehead, trickling down his temples.
Erling obeyed the command, increasing the speed. Their hips slammed forcefully against each other in a wet, rhythmic thud. The attacker's right hand moved up Jude's defined abdomen, his large, firm fingers caressing his skin until they enveloped his penis, which was already releasing pre-ejaculate, throbbing with excitement between their bellies. Erling began to masturbate him with quick movements, matching the touch of his hand with the rhythm of his thrusts from below.
The double stimulation was too much for Jude. He threw his head back again, exposing the line of his neck, where the veins pulsed visibly. A continuous stream of moans and eager groans escaped his reddened lips. He could no longer form words... he only gripped Erling's arms, searching for a point of support in that whirlwind that threatened to push them to the limit at any second. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on a vortex, and Jude felt as if he were dissolving in the other's arms.
“Erling… Wait, s-slowly…” Jude managed to stammer through his teeth, his chest rising and falling in desperate gasps of air.
Although they had to finish quickly to get back home, Jude always liked to prolong the moment.
In response, Haaland let out a low chuckle.
He was close too. The way Jude squeezed him from the inside, the warm, incredibly soft wall contracting around his cock with each thrust, was driving him crazy. He slightly changed the angle, tilting Jude's body a little further back against the steering wheel, managing to hit the exact spot that made the Englishman jump and shout the Norwegian's name in a high-pitched voice.
"Yeah, that's it, baby, damn... right there, fuck... Erling!"
Knowing they had little time left and that the pleasure was already unbearable, Erling sped up even more, delivering quick, short, and deep thrusts. The grip of his enormous hand on Jude's cock intensified, moving up and down forcefully, his thumb scraping against the wet glans.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m going to cum.” Jude whimpered loudly and tensed his entire body, the muscles in his thighs trembling violently as he gripped Erling’s nape, pulling hard at the blond strands of hair.
The peak of orgasm hit him like a lightning bolt, and with a final, drawn-out groan, he discharged the thick semen against his own abdomen and Erling's hand, his body shaking in long spasms that squeezed the Norwegian almost painfully from the inside. It was an explosion of colors behind his eyelids, a release so intense that it left him momentarily weightless.
Feeling that tight trembling, and seeing his boyfriend's beautiful eyes rolling back behind his eyelids, in that exciting expression, was the perfect final trigger for Haaland. With two more slow, deep thrusts, he let out a low growl and came completely inside him, feeling his own body tremble as he emptied himself completely, a wave of relief and affection overflowing from his chest.
When he finally caught his breath, Erling let his body weight fall slowly onto Jude, his forehead pressed against his neck, feeling his heartbeat gradually slow from its frantic pace. Jude kept his arms loosely draped over the Norwegian's shoulders, his fingers still lazily brushing against the blond strands of hair, savoring the comfortable exhaustion that was taking over his muscles.
With a long sigh, Erling stepped back millimeters, his blue eyes searching for Jude's in the dim light. A slight smile, devoid of the earlier provocation, just calm, appeared on his lips as he wiped a bead of sweat from the other's forehead with his thumb. There was so much tenderness in that simple gesture that Jude's chest warmed with affection.
“I think the security guard has already been here a couple of times,” Jude whispered, his voice still a little hoarse, with an amused and tired smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.
“His problem,” Erling replied softly, placing one last light, smacking kiss on his swollen lips before slowly beginning to move him back to the passenger seat, though his hands lingered a little longer on the Englishman’s waist, reluctant to break that precious contact.
As he slid back into his seat, Jude missed the fullness and the thermal shock of his own nudity. His tired, limp body barely obeyed, but he groped with one hand along the car floor until he found his discarded workout shorts. Too weak to put them on properly, he simply pulled them against his legs and covered his hips as best he could. When he leaned back fully, the partially bare skin of his back and thighs immediately clung to the leather of the car seat, a cold sensation that sent shivers down his spine. Between his legs, the warm semen began to trickle slowly, soiling the expensive upholstery, but Erling didn't seem to care for a second — his gaze on Jude remained perfectly calm, focused only on his well-being.
Bellingham shifted in his seat with a low groan, the muscles in his thighs protesting slightly from the effort and the uncomfortable position. He pulled down the hem of his t-shirt and zipped up his jacket with his fingers still slightly trembling, feeling the fabric prick his sensitive skin, marked by Erling's hickeys. There was a delicious languor in his limbs, the kind of exhaustion that numbed any hurry.
Beside him, Erling used a tissue he kept in the door compartment to quickly wipe himself. His movements were swift, but his blue eyes never left Jude's side for a single second. When he finished pulling up his shorts, the Norwegian ran his hand through his blond, disheveled, damp hair, tossing it back before starting the car's engine.
The digital dashboard came to life, illuminating the vehicle's interior with a cool, bluish light. In the reflection of the glass, Jude looked at his own face: his lips were visibly swollen and red, and his beautiful brown eyes still held the weight of his recent orgasm. He looked at Erling and found his boyfriend still staring at him, with a sly, completely enchanted smile.
Without saying a word, Erling put the car in gear and pulled it out of the parking space, maneuvering smoothly through the quiet parking lot of the training center. As they passed the guard booth, the security guard simply nodded, formal and discreet, without looking directly through the tinted windows. Jude stifled a laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, eliciting a nasal chuckle from Haaland.
As soon as they reached the main road, under the city's lampposts as it began to darken, Erling reached his right hand across the console and placed his large hand on Jude's thigh, gently squeezing the firm muscle.
Jude smiled, covering his hand with his own, intertwining their fingers. He rested his head on the seat armrest, turning his face to observe Erling's focused profile against the landscape rushing past the window.