Pairings and characters: Fernando Torres/Sergio Ramos, Javi Martínez/Fernando Llorente, Javi Martínez/Raúl González, Raúl González/Fernando Torres (past), Esteban Granero, Pedro Rodríguez, Álvaro Morata, Santi Cazorla, Pep Guardiola, Asier Illarramendi, Diego Costa, Vicente Del Bosque, Diego Simeone, Nacho Fernández
Summary: Sequel to Safe and mine. While Fernando and Sergio are trying to forget about Raúl, Raúl has all but forgotten about them.
Warnings: non-con, dub-con, violence, mentions of character death
Javi closes his eyes, only long enough to let the tears slip down his temples. Raúl’s hands are gripping his wrists as he moves inside Javi, tantalizingly slowly. Out of all the things Raúl does with him, this is the worst, probably because it feels so normal. He has to look Raúl in the face because Raúl won’t let him look away, and although he doesn’t want to feel any pleasure, his body usually betrays him like this.
“No, please, don’t...” he whispers when Raúl leans in to kiss his neck, licking just in the right places to make Javi squirm.
“Why?” Raúl chuckles. “You like it.”
Although Raúl usually enjoys inflicting pain, Javi is sure that he enjoys torturing him this way almost equally much. He sobs quietly when Raúl pulls out, letting go of his wrists, his fingers leaving marks and dull pain that feels almost good, almost reassuring, being the only proof that Javi didn’t want this.
Raúl nips at the sensitive flesh of Javi’s inner thighs and then laps at every inch of skin at his groin. Javi’s fingers knot in Raúl’s hair on reflex and he hates himself for it. He shouldn’t like it, but Raúl can make it feel so good, bring him so close to release... only to torture him even longer.
“No, no, sweetheart, not yet,” Raúl smiles and grips the base of Javi’s cock. “It wouldn’t be right if you got your reward before you please me, would it?”
Javi closes his eyes and swallows hard, praying to God for it being a rhetorical question because he’s not able to speak right now. But Raúl doesn’t insist, he just waits for Javi to calm down a little bit before he flips him over.
Javi screams at the top of his lungs when Raúl shoves himself deep inside, fucking him senseless. He slides a hand under the pillow behind his head, fingers touching the dead peony in a desperate attempt to keep his mind from clouding and getting lost in the sensations, but he’s too far gone already. Screams fade into moans and sobs and quiet begging, and then his whole buddy shudders as he comes violently. He falls on the bed in exhaustion, too tired to move even when Raúl turns him to his back so that he could cradle him in his arms, however sick it makes Javi feel.
“Did I make you feel good, darling?” Raúl coos, caressing Javi’s hair.
“Yes, Master,” Javi hears himself saying. “Thank you, Master.”
Raúl smirks, sliding a finger across Javi’s lips. “Right,” he says. “You know how to be grateful, don’t you?”
Javi tenses, searching the words for hidden meaning, but Raúl just keeps running his fingers through his hair.
“Unlike my stupid husband,” he says. “I can’t even count how many times I took care of him like this. Apparently it wasn’t what he wanted.”
Javi puts all his strength into keeping his eyes open. He knows it would have terrible consequences if he fell asleep when Raúl wants to talk.
“You know, sometimes I think I should maybe get married again,” Raúl says. “It would certainly help my reputation. I’d need to find someone more manageable, though. I hate how unpredictable those young men are nowadays. They look like saints but then they destroy your life. What do you think?”
“Then marry a woman,” Javi croaks.
Raúl laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “Oh, Javi, you amuse me,” he breathes. “Women are nosy. Even my husband was nosy enough to find out about my secret. Just imagine someone would find out about you. No, we can’t have that.”
Then he gets up and puts on his clothes casually. He stops at the door and turns back to look at Javi. “I won’t let anyone take you from me,” he says. “I will not repeat the same mistake twice.”
Sergio is ready for Diego Simeone’s visit two hours before the appointment. Ready, in the sense of cleaning the house, preparing some food and grooming himself. Fernando tells him that Simeone isn’t coming to inspect their house nor to have dinner, but Sergio insists that it calms him down.
When Simeone knocks on the door, Sergio almost hides under the table. But then he musters up the courage and when Fernando opens the door, Sergio is already lurking at the end of the hallway.
Simeone turns out to be more civil and tactful than Sergio had expected. He wonders if Fernando had warned him or if it’s just the way he is, but he keeps his distance from Sergio and never insists if there is a question Sergio is not willing to answer.
“Thank you for talking to me,” he says then.
“I just hope that it helps,” Sergio shrugs.
“Maybe it will. Anyway, it takes a lot of courage to speak about it.”
Sergio sighs and picks at a thread hanging from the cuff of his shirt. “I feel guilty,” he says. “Because if I wasn’t a coward, if I went to the trial, if I faced Raúl in front of the judge, maybe he wouldn’t have escaped. If I denied his lies, if the judge saw me...”
“Yes, maybe,” Simeone nods. “But perhaps it would still be your word against his. There were many witnesses, and yet Raúl still managed to fool the judge.”
“But he cannot just refuse to divorce, can he?” Sergio asks. “Because, I mean, it’s about that, isn’t it?”
Simeone exchanges looks with Fernando and then smiles. “Yes, it is about that. And no, he cannot resist the divorce forever. Mainly not when his husband doesn’t want money from him. He can stand on his head, but finally he will have to sign it.”
Fernando sees Simeone to the door and then returns to Sergio, who is still sitting on the sofa, playing with his clothes nervously.
“I’m proud of you,” Fernando whispers and kisses him.
“I just want this to end,” Sergio says. “If I can help it, I will.”
“It will end soon, I promise,” Fernando breathes out. “Good has to win eventually, no matter how bit the evil.”
“I wish I could believe it,” Sergio sighs. “I really wish I could.”
Javi recognizes Esteban’s steps. He gathers the last remnants of his strength, lifts the mattress and hides the peony blossom between the straw mattress and the wooden grille. Just when the mattress falls back on its place, the door opens and Esteban walks in.
Raúl walks in his office and sighs. The bank is still closed, his employees are preparing everything for another day and this is usually Raúl’s time to have some tea and calmly go through his plans for the day. But today, Florentino Pérez is already waiting for him with his omnipresent leather-bound file.
“Good morning, Mr. González,” he says.
“It was good before I walked in,” Raúl growls. “I hope you have good news.”
“I come with a plan,” Pérez grins.
“Perfect. Can I get a cup of tea at least before we start?”
The cup appears in front of him before he is even done speaking and Álvaro promptly retires back to his table, leaving them alone. Raúl picks up the cup and sips on the strong infusion before dipping the slice of lemon in it with a tiny silver spoon. “Well, what is the plan?”
“Your husband is basically threatening that he will expose you, isn’t that so?” Pérez asks.
“Then beat him with his own weapons,” Pérez smiles.
“What do you mean?”
His lawyer leans closer to him. “Make him a liar,” he says. “Show the world that you have nothing to hide. You are a honorable citizen with powerful friends. What could he expose when he finds nothing? And your past affairs don’t interest anyone.”
“True,” Raúl mumbles. “True.”
Pérez leans back in the chair, obviously satisfied with himself. Raúl drinks the rest of his tea and puts the cup down.
“I can’t say that I like it, but it looks like the only possible solution.”
“Why wouldn’t you like it?”
“I will have to make some sacrifices,” Raúl sighs. “But you are right. I’ll destroy him for good, and then I’ll finally live in peace. Me, not him.”
“Then when his lawyer comes again...” Pérez looks at him.
“Send him to hell,” Raúl says. “There will be no divorce. There will be war.”