Work Text:
Dean
Bro, watch what I found online (11:50 p.m.)
www.lukamosvideos/1/.com (11:50 p.m.)
Arda Güler
What are you still doing dumbscrolling around? Go to bed, we have morning training. (11:51 p.m.)
The notification bar shows Dean’s message on his phone. Arda glances at the page thumbnail while typing his own message and looks at the link without opening it. It seems like nothing out of the ordinary, a banner for a Luka and Sergio fan account. Nothing unusual; Dean and he have watched a few videos of when the two stars played together. Dean kept saying that his jersey number was the same as Sergio’s, so he’d “inherited” it, so to speak, and had to fulfill the defensive role. The page looked fine until he clicked on it and it popped up in his browser, glowing on his screen, taking him to a shortcut where the first 5 seconds show Luka’s face from a weird angle as he moans, and another, deeper moan can be heard near the camera. Arda closes it immediately, he had his phone on full volume! He’s lucky he lives alone because it would’ve been way too embarrassing.
Arda Güler
You’re fucking weird, what the hell did you send me? (11:57 p.m.)
Dean
I have no idea, but it looks like a sex tape, right? (11:57 p.m.)
Do you think it’s Sergio and Luka? (11:58 p.m.)
The real Ramos and Modrić?
Dean’s replies come in just as fast as Arda deletes the video, closes all his search tabs, clears his history, and, just in case, deletes his browser cookies too.
Dean
Don’t watch it on your own, we have to watch it together. (11:59 p.m.)
Arda can’t sleep a wink that night. He doesn’t watch the video, not because Dean told him not to, but because he knows Luka Modrić personally. He played with him before Modrić left for AC Milan, and seeing him in that video meant seeing something too private and embarrassing, definitely something he shouldn’t see and that shouldn’t be posted on the internet.
Dean doesn’t act any different the next day; they keep messing around during practice until Mourinho pulls them aside for causing a commotion, and for a moment Arda forgets the five seconds he’d watched of that infamous, supposedly “sex tape.” Until Dean is waiting for him in the parking lot, the taller guy’s blue car was the only one still parked there as he twirled the key between his fingers.
“Haven’t you ordered an Uber yet?” Arda barely shakes his head, and Dean gives him a smile that makes his eyes crinkle. “Good, because I’ll drive you home.”
Ever since Mourinho arrived, the coach had changed the meal rules at Valdebebas, everyone ate together, so he couldn’t come up with an excuse about having a meal out. Dean had been sitting five seats away while they both ate and joked with the other guys on the team, so he let himself be swept along by the other boy. The ride home is quiet except for the music playing on the car radio. Arda reads the song titles in his head with his A2-level Spanish at best, not quite understanding the lyrics, and exchanges glances from time to time with the younger guy. For the second time that day, the video pops into his head as both guys are taking off their shoes to enter Arda’s apartment.
“You didn’t watch the video, did you?” Dean asks as he connects his phone to Arda’s TV.
“No, I didn’t watch that weird video.” Arda says emphatically in his defense and sits in the corner of the couch. The taller guy brings up the damn link he sent Arda in the middle of the night and plays it, taking over the entire screen of the 80 inch Full HD 4K TV he bought specifically to watch football games, not Luka’s video or whatever.
Dean sits with his legs spread apart in the other corner; a total of 60 centimeters separates them, and only that much distance allows Arda to keep breathing, because if he were any closer, he’s sure he’d lose the ability to breathe. He wants to stop acting strangely, but the feeling of unease coiling inside him won’t let him stop moving his leg while they wait for the video to load. The first thing they see is a close-up of Luka lying on white pillows, talking and smiling with an expression Arda has never seen before.
He quickly realizes that these are the first five seconds he watched yesterday. Dean adjusts the TV so the volume is low enough that only the two of them can hear it. Both young men watch Luka on the flat-screen TV with an expression of pleasure, and Arda feels the color rise to his face. The camera stays on his face, but they can hear other sounds beyond the sighs on the screen.
“Oh my God, what the hell are we watching?” Arda whispers, covering her face with his hands in an attempt to hide his blush of embarrassment, while Dean remains in the same position, relaxed on Arda’s three-seater sofa.
“Didn’t you know Sergio and Luka were in a secret relationship? Their videos are all over the internet, not that kind, of course, videos of them interacting.” Dean says without taking his eyes off the screen, where the angle remains the same, though it shifts slightly from Luka’s face to a bit lower; both boys can see the Croatian’s knees appearing just a few times in the frame.
“Really? I thought it was just fan stuff. Why are you still watching it? Turn it off right now.” Arda tries to reach over to grab the remote, but Dean is faster and moves it to his other side, preventing him from getting it.
“I don’t know, it makes me curious. Luka and Sergio always had this unusual chemistry, and weird displays of affection, too, so I’m not surprised there’s a video like this.” Dean pauses, watching Arda’s flushed face, studying it, and then smiles; the heat has risen to his ears as he completely shifts the conversation to them. “Have you never watched porn with a friend?”
Arda is about to have a heart attack or something because there’s a ringing in his ears, and he could swear his left arm has been hurting ever since Dean asked that damn question. He’s never watched porn on his own to begin with; his parents warned him that the stuff was illegal, immoral, and only served to satisfy worldly pleasures, so it wasn’t really worth trying. He isn’t familiar with these unspoken codes among friends that Dean is talking about because, for most of his life, he’s steered clear of any activities that didn’t involve football or something related. His father also warned him that being close to other boys was fine, as long as he didn’t cross the line, so he never crossed them, lines drawn implicitly to keep him from straying. If someone asked his father what Arda was like, he would simply use his favorite analogy, “the virtue of the oak.” To him, the young Turk was like an acorn that had grown with plenty of sunshine, good nutrients, and purity; that’s why he was upright, steadfast, and diligent.
And deep down, in a place only he knew existed, lay his attraction to boys, something he’d been hiding ever since he turned 15. Arda wasn’t the firm, upright oak his father believed him to be; he was just an ordinary tree, warped by the human condition and its worldly pleasures. Driven by the fear of being discovered, he sought to bury it deep within himself, dating girls and limiting his interactions with boys. When Arda arrived in Madrid on his own, his determination to hide what he didn’t want others to see remained firm, though he did become more affectionate and expressive. Without his father’s shadow looming over him, he could be the friendly and affectionate boy he’d always wanted to be with others.
“No, I… never.” It took Arda a while to say those simple words, with a lump in his throat and without looking at the taller guy. The video had only been playing for 2 minutes out of the total 20, and it felt like an eternity; Arda felt like he was being strangled, he didn’t want to see Modrić in a private moment.
“So this is your first time… no wonder you were so shy. If you get hard, you know, you just take it out, I really don’t mind.” Dean says, still relaxed, as he moves his hands from the couch to his thighs, wiping his palms. This time, he looks at Arda for a few seconds, smiles, and then goes back to watching the video. Arda just tries to swallow the tight lump in his throat and stays as still as possible while the video continues to play.
The very moment he fixes his eyes on the screen, he can see the camera pan down across the Croatian’s chest toward where he and Sergio are connected as the latter thrusts slowly; the wet sounds mingle with the moans of both men. Arda sinks deeper into the sofa's cushions, then shifts his gaze to Dean, who is still watching the screen. The Turkish man notices that Dean has a hand on his crotch, squeezing his bulge a few times as the video plays, and Arda blushes even more.
“You’re crazy, how can you get horny from an amateur porn video?” Arda tries to say in a mocking tone, but all that comes out is his voice, broken by a gasp.
“Amateur videos feel more real than a staged one with a screenwriter watching a couple have sex.” Dean looks at him as he says this, raising his eyebrows as if they were talking about something trivial like leaves falling in the fall, and it makes Arda feel sick. “What’s the deal, are you homophobic, Güler? It’s just two grown men having sex.”
“What? No… it’s just… not my kind of video, I guess.”
Arda says, looking back at Dean. The younger guy pulls his hand away to cut the distance between them in half and leans on Arda’s shoulder while slipping his deft hand into his pants. Arda realizes that Dean is now masturbating, all while looking at him, and it triggers an indecipherable sense of anticipation in the pit of his stomach.
“Oh, really? What’s your kind of porn, then? What turns you on?” Dean asks as he moves his hand inside his sweatpants, and Arda can’t answer, out of embarrassment and because he really doesn’t know what to say; he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself. Dean doesn’t stop moving but keeps looking at Arda as he does so, and he takes the initiative when he senses the older guy isn’t going to answer.
“I’ll tell you first so you get an idea. I like tits, big or small, anything’s fine with me as long as they bounce, and I also like watching guys jerk off, but not the super-muscular ones… I don’t know, guys like you, maybe.”
The video on the screen plays for another four minutes. Arda barely looks at it but manages to catch a few seconds of Luka’s face, and of course he can hear Luka moaning, and the other person moaning too, the one holding whatever they were using to record it. The Turkish guy tries to distract himself by wondering what kind of device they used to record the video; it looks like the camera on an old cell phone, the picture isn’t very sharp or high-quality, it’s literally an amateur video. The few times porn had been shared in a chat group Arda was in, he hadn’t seen anything interesting, except for the big dicks of the guys who were fucking, and that was the only thing that caught his attention, the only thing that made him so turned on that he felt the urge to touch himself, not even the pussies aroused him like that, so, after that, he completely distanced himself from anything that might pose an imminent threat to his reputation.
"Ah, so… Guys like 'Arda Güler' jerking off? Is that what you're looking for?" Arda asks in a curious tone as he brings his thighs together and squeezes them; the other guy’s confession sank deep into his brain, sending electrical signals through his body and waves of blood southward. He shifts his gaze to his feet because Dean is still jerking off and the video keeps playing an explicit scene where you can clearly hear them fucking, so he doesn’t know where to look.
“Not always, uh… sometimes I just go with whatever the beginning suggests. I like cute guys like you, that’s all,” Dean says, keeping his half-smile as he squeezes his cock and tilts his head back. Arda knows he’s smiling because of the lighthearted tone in his voice. “Come on, Arda, we’re friends, right? You can tell me.”
“Dick, I’ve only seen one once, and that was enough.” Arda says quickly, but he knows Dean hears him clearly. He keeps looking at the shorter guy, who’s still smiling.
“And do you keep imagining that same dick while you jerk off?” Dean asks, and he seems genuinely interested. Arda doesn’t remember exactly what the dick he saw back then looked like, he was a teenager at the time, but it was big and thick, curved to the side. Arda let his imagination run wild as he pictured the other person touching himself; it was always a slim but muscular body, though now, as he spent more time with Huijsen, the other guy’s body was starting to pop into his head more often. Instead of revealing too much, Arda simply replies:
“Not the same one, it’s just… it works if it’s… big…”
Arda feels embarrassed admitting that out loud, but he doesn’t hear Dean say anything; he just lets out a little chuckle as they hear the sound of skin slapping on the screen, and Arda hears the other guy’s hand moving inside his pants.
“So… you like big dicks. Do you know what that’s called?” Arda sighs as he shakes his head; he feels a tingling in his stomach as he rubs his thighs together, creating a little friction between them, needing just a little more of that as the minutes tick by.
“If you’ve never jerked off with a friend, that means you’ve never kissed one either… right?”
Arda chokes on the question and shifts his gaze from his feet to look at Dean; the boy is already staring at him intensely while licking his lips and squeezing his cock. despite the dim light in the living room, Arda can see the wet head of Dean’s cock poking out from the waistband of his boxers and pants, and he feels more saliva building in his mouth as his tongue grows heavy. He’s never sucked a cock before, not once, but he thinks he could do it to Dean.
“Why are you asking so many questions? Of course I’ve never kissed a guy, like never ever” he says emphatically, and Dean moves closer, invading the other boy’s personal space with his free hand on the back of the couch, behind Arda’s back, signaling the end of the safe distance the older boy had previously established.
“I don’t know, I just like teasing you, you make such funny faces,” Almost 10 minutes of video are missing; Arda sees it on the playback bar and tries not to focus on how he can feel the heat of Dean’s body just a centimeter from his own until he hears it again. “I’ve kissed guys, it’s not a big deal.”
The taller boy’s movement catches him off guard; Arda doesn’t look him in the face, but he does notice how he’s masturbating, at a slow rhythm, while the older boy squeezes his thighs once more. Dean moves a little closer, toward the other boy’s neck, and simply stays there as the hand resting on the back of the chair pulls him nearer; Arda’s shoulder presses against Dean’s chest, and he feels his heat burning through his short sleeved tshirt.
“I’ve only kissed guys I think are pretty, not just any guy who crosses my path, just so you know...”
Dean whispers in his ear as his hand gently strokes the side of Arda’s cheek. Arda can see Dean’s eyes glinting slightly under the lights, and he’s so close that the scent of his cologne makes Arda dizzy. He doesn’t have the strength to push him away, so he keeps his mouth open as if something… as if a word were about to come out of it. Arda wants to tell him to back off, that he doesn't want him to kiss him, that it's wrong, but instead he just exhales onto Dean's thin lips, and Dean licks the trail of the older boy's breath from his lips. Arda finds that movement so hypnotic that he moves his knee, spreading his legs.
Arda can’t imagine kissing any guy, but deep down the desire flares up; when Dean’s face is sighing so close to his cheek, he can imagine them kissing, wanting this other guy to kiss him.
And Dean finally closes the distance, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips, not going beyond the beginning, but not letting Arda pull away either. The younger boy’s hand on the other boy’s neck prevents him from pulling back, so he simply remains still. The kiss doesn’t last long; the moment Arda realizes that Dean is actually kissing him, the other boy is already pulling back a few centimeters and staring at him. They haven’t even been paying attention to the video for a while now, it’s still playing in the background without them watching, though they can still hear the erotic sounds.
“Wow, you looked like you wanted me to kiss you,” he says softly against his lips as he gently strokes the side of his neck. “How did it feel?”
“I-I don’t know...” There’s a silence between the two boys as Luka utters “Sergio,” and neither of them turns to look at the TV when a series of monosyllables is heard at an absurd frequency.
“You don’t know?”
Dean kisses him again; this time it’s different, it’s not just an innocent press of lips. Arda has kissed girls like this before, and it never felt half as hot as it does now, as Dean sucks on his lower lip and presses him completely against the couch. Arda waits for the next round of kisses with his mouth open as Dean pushes him down, until he’s lying back on the couch and lets Dean slip between his legs, sending the expensive cushions his mom bought to make the space cozier flying onto the floor. Arda wraps his arms around the other guy’s neck, holding him close as he hooks his thighs around Dean’s hips, and Dean moves closer, pressing himself against the older guy’s hips while shifting his weight so he doesn’t weigh him down completely.
“Oh, fuck…” Arda sighs, trying to control his breathing as Dean switches his kisses to his neck and he arches his back, feeling how hard Dean is inside his sweatpants; he’s hard too, it was impossible not to get an hard-on when the other guy was doing everything he could to push him to the limit. Dean sucks a hickey at the base of his throat, and Arda shudders with pleasure, arching back against the younger boy’s hard cock. Dean touches him slowly, sliding one of his hands toward the hem of the other boy’s tshirt to lift it, revealing his chest, which is slightly less firm than the rest of his skin, it has a bit of fat, his nipples are light brown, and because of the way Arda has his arms positioned, it looks like a valley is forming, as if they were a pair of small tits. Dean revels in them, and when he puts his mouth on one of Arda’s nipples, the other boy shudders violently, causing his hips to thrust forward and creating delicious friction between their crotches that makes Dean moan with pleasure against his pale skin.
“Do you know what they call guys who like big dicks? Dean tries again as he sucks on Arda’s left nipple and then licks it, watching it change from pink to red as it hardens. Arda doesn’t answer, he can’t answer because he knows his voice will crack if he says a word. Instead, he shakes his head from between the pillows, and Dean kisses his solar plexus while using his hands to mold Arda’s chest. “They’re called ‘size queens.’ Are you a size queen, Güler?”
“I… no, I’m not…” Dean cuts him off with a passionate kiss, licking the other guy lips to coax him into opening his mouth, and Arda gives in as he lifts his hips to meet the friction. Dean licks Arda’s teeth and rubs their tongues together, giving him such a pleasurable sensation that he can’t even think of anything else. The video has long since faded into the background; all that can be heard is the slapping of their skin, though both are more interested in pursuing each other’s mouths. Arda feels Dean’s heavy cock pressing against him and senses his own body spasming; the sensation is so good that he’s lost all sense of space and time, and his shyness as well. He realizes this when he runs his hands through the nape of Dean’s neck to keep him close while clamping his thighs around his hips.
“Damn, you’re so pretty, and you’ve got such pretty tits,” Dean whispers against his lips, and their hips come together faster; by this point, they’re both getting their pants wet like a couple of teenagers. Arda doesn’t have boobs, he’s not a girl, but the mere fact that Dean is complimenting him makes him whimper, as he presses his elbows together a little tighter to give the impression of having a pair of tits. “… Do you want to see how big mine is?”
Dean’s voice has a confident tone, as if he knows what he’s talking about, and Arda wants to see it, wants to feel it, maybe he also wants to have it in his mouth or against his skin. The idea makes him so dizzy that he doesn’t even hear himself when he responds with a muffled “yes,” nodding slightly as he watches him. Dean barely stretches the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers to let his hard, wet cock press against his abs, it’s pink and big. Arda’s mouth waters as a pang of desire shoots deep inside him. The younger boy watches as Arda’s eyes seem to beg him to do something, so he steps aside and touches himself so the older boy can see.
“Do you like what you see?” Arda nods, panting, and stays lying on the cushions while Dean wraps his hand around his cock, making a fist, and begins to jerk off in front of the older boy. Dean rolls the other boy’s T-shirt up under his armpits, allowing him to see his toned abs and chest, and orders, “Touch yourself too, I want to watch you.”
Arda trembles beneath the other boy’s body, letting out a small gasp, and does as he’s told, he slips his hand into his pants, wrapping his hand around himself, masturbating at the same pace as Dean. Both boys utter monosyllables against the background noise of the video. Dean is going too fast, and Arda tries to keep up, but he’s never touched himself like this before, which immediately causes contractions in his groin.
“Oh, God, mmh, I’m close… I’m so close, damn it,” Arda says as his legs and abdomen tremble. Dean smiles down at him while squeezing the base of his cock and then rubbing the head with the tip of his thumb. Arda watches as a drop of precum oozes out, making him even wetter; his hips tremble again, he feels the heat coil in his stomach and rise to his cheeks.
“That’s so good, yeah, do it for me.” Arda jerks off faster, with an intensity he’s never wanted to use because he’s too sensitive; he knows he’ll cum quickly if he does it this way. He writhes as he curls his toes and takes two quick, deep strokes of his cock to cum, tensing like a rubber band until it snaps, He doesn't have time to pull down his pants to keep from getting them any wetter, so he ends up shooting inside, soaking his underwear, and shudders violently as he tries to recover from his orgasm; his cock is still spasming when he sees Dean seeking his own orgasm, a few seconds after watching Arda finish, muttering monosyllables, he cums on the older guy’s abdomen and jerks off until the very last drop, leaning in closer until the wet tip of his glans brushes against the pale skin of the older guy’s stomach, painting the skin with drops of cum.
“Damn, that was…really intense.” Dean says to break the silence. The TV has stopped playing the sex tape. They don’t know when it cut off because they weren’t paying attention to what was happening. The truth is, Dean stopped paying attention the moment he felt Arda’s curious gaze on him, the kind he’d felt from time to time when they were close, and he’d pretended not to notice how Arda was looking at him.
“Um… This won’t change anything between us, right?” Arda asks shyly, covering his face in embarrassment. He’d just broken every boundary he’d set with all the guys who’d been part of his life; all it took was for Dean to push him just a little for him to let Dean do whatever he wanted with him.
“Do you want something to change?” Dean says instead, taking off his tshirt to clean up the wet mess he’d left on Arda; he thinks it’s gross himself, but no grosser than the cum drying inside his pants.
“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it; I just… don’t want our dynamic to change from now on.”
“It’s no big deal, it doesn’t have to be so complicated. We just did what we did because we wanted to.” Dean says after giving it a quick wipe, then leaning down onto Arda. Arda feels the warm skin of Dean’s chest against his own and feels him kissing his pecs.
“No, you tricked me into watching this, you wanted to get into my pants.” Arda accuses, but he doesn’t push him away; he keeps running his fingers through the short hair at the back of the other guy’s head while Dean laughs.
Arda feels the uncomfortable dampness in his pants and the dried cum, but he still doesn’t want to separate from the warmth Dean’s body provides on top of him. And he lets him stay, just like the other times he’s stayed, only now Dean comes with Arda to the bed and is already asleep when Arda returns after showering. In the middle of the night, Arda feels Dean move closer to him; the weight sinks the mattress as Dean reaches his side, and then an arm wraps around his waist.
Nothing changes when they wake up for practice. Arda gets ready first and gives Dean plenty of time to sleep until it’s inevitable to wake him up so he can get ready too. Arda hands him a pair of shorts and a tshirt that’s a little too short for him. When he joins his in the kitchen, he makes him a protein shake, and Dean accepts it with a smile and a “thanks” before drinking it all. Nothing changes when they train; they’re still kept apart because they fool around a lot when they’re together, and they eat five seats apart at the same table as always. The only thing that changes is the way Dean looks at him among the other people in the room. Arda notices this, either because he’s very observant or simply because Dean is so obvious. When another day of training ends, the other guy drives him at home and stays a little longer, waiting until he’s inside and the building’s lobby door closes.
Dean
When can I come by again? (9:32 p.m.)
I can bring another video (9:32 p.m.)
Arda sees the message once he’s inside his apartment. As he sits on the couch where they masturbated yesterday, he wants to laugh at how absurd the situation is, at how normal it felt with Dean, and at his need for it to happen again.
Arda Güler
I hope the next one isn’t one with Lukamos, I’m not interested in that relationship. (9:45 p.m.)
Dean
No, maybe the next one, could be one where the two of us are the stars.
(9:46 p.m.)
Arda Güler
If we win on Sunday, i’ll think about it. (9:50 p.m.)