staticdream

Just another Azkals/ Neil Etheridge oneshot

___

Expectations are by far the worst things a person can have. Given the unpredictability of

It’s a whole new argument between Finagle and Murphy again.

Anything that could go wrong, will go wrong…with the most fanfare possible.

…

When that first goal went in, I called it luck immediately. By now you would know that I was not one to condone highly aggressive behavior. Testosterone ran through my veins just as much as it did my brothers, and it did not come down in tiny spurts. Hardly. It was a great storm surge of flailing fists and colorful curses on my part. My seatmate at the sports bar was giving the evil glances coupled with what I would like to say was a turned on look, but I didn’t care for him.

Oh please.

All I wanted at that moment was for Myhusband to step up and get the game rolling the way it should be. True, I wasn’t one to really comment- really, I wasn’t one to say anything given the nature of the game and all that follows, but goshdarnit. I wanted to see something that could get my blood rushing in several more ways than one.

Frustration was a mammoth understatement to how I was feeling at that moment. Even as I grabbed some random stranger’s sleeve and tugged and pulled and screamed as much as I could, it did not make the anxiety go away. If anything, the apprehension grew exponentially as the game dragged on and on. Groaning was not enough, and my banging my fists, and very nearly my head, on the counter top was of no relief.

This was not excitement, this was an international event waiting to happen.

Disappointment briefly flashed through his eyes as the camera fanned towards his direction. Like the plug being pulled out of the socket- like a pin popping a big, big balloon, I deflated and collapsed back down on my stool. He hated that, I knew. He hated it so much that that disheartenment was easily eclipsed into aggression.

Was it bad that even though there was a game going on, all I could think of was: Damn, Neil was hot when he was mad.

He had my lady parts tingling and it would take a snowy day in Manila before I’d never admit that out loud to him or to anybody. To him most of all.

Truth be told, I would have killed to be in Singapore at that moment. I would have had no qualms about murder, arson, and jaywalking just to fly to where he was. Slumping on the black plastic-laminated table, I let my hands hang loose on either side of me as I continued to watch the game in the dwindling minutes of regulation time.

There was still Tuesday’s game.

But I wanted to see Neil now.

I needed to see him.

The crowd around me slowly dispersed and the loud chitter-chatter and cheering from the last two hours died down until there was just silence and tumbleweed rolling in the empty bar. I sighed loudly and it echoed across the room. The barkeep gave me a sympathetic glance before shoving me lightly and wiping the table with his rag.

“It was such a good game. Very classy.” I said, trying my best to sound content with the results. I wanted them to win, yes. Though a friendly didn’t really count as much in the bigger picture, and really, the outcome of any game was inconsequential in the even bigger picture, it was irrelevant in the context of the moment.

I had been overly excited to hear that Neil was playing tonight, granted, he had just sent me home after my not so impromptu trip to London. It really didn’t diminish the effect he had on me. If anything, him rejecting me- kinda, had me wanting…wanting him more.

How much more crass could I get? Well, very, considering I was about to go screaming, Neil have my babies in wanton abandon. Absence truly did make the heart go fonder instead of yonder, though how it was for him I really didn’t know until said trip. His last words to me and him playing tonight had me eating my words with a dash of dressing. I admit it was wrong of me to accuse him of his intentions and doubt his loyalties. His comeback was just as heavy, and I felt sick and nauseated with myself. Everything was set right though, that was enough.

I was proud of him. I couldn’t even express how much.

With the memory of said nauseous feelings from my behavior back then and the high energy from tonight, I was left drained. Groggily I slid down the bar stool and dragged my feet the small distance back to the condo. I was drenched the moment I stepped out of the establishment, and I couldn’t help but think that the weather was agreeing with the mood of, well, any Azkals fan.

I soaked up the rain- I really didn’t mind being wet, I preferred it actually. It fit very well with the theme of my life and of the night. My thoughts couldn’t help but wonder if it was raining over there too. A light drizzle was reported during the game, I wondered if it came full force as it did now.

I also wondered how long they would be staying- if they were coming home soon.

Home.

I loved how they called this place home.

Besides, I was too excited to see Neil play again. Too much. His game face was gorgeous, and did I mention its effects on my lady parts? I could not express that enough. I knew that I should have been feeling some kind of remorse, but as I knew Neil would say, it was just something we had to brush off our shoulders and learn from.

What lesson there was for me, I wasn’t sure. My head was too hazed from thoughts of Neil that any attempt at rationalizing and intellectualizing were down the drain. Brain meet gutter. You two will have a very intimate relationship from now on.

Oh dear heart.

I needed to bang my head against something solid.

Like Neil’s pecs? Or do you prefer his abs?

“ASDFLKSDJFGSA;LKFJSDAL;FJSDL;FKSDJL;FKSDJFL;SAKDJFLS;ADKFJSAL;D”

No, not exactly what I said, but it was a close transcript. I could not wait for Banana-bb Tuesday. Ignoring the looks I received was easy. I was used to it, though my usually invisible and neutral self (contradiction aside) was a little shaken by the attention- moreso because it was because of a random burst of unintelligible gibberish (redundancy aside).

I pushed my door open with my shoulders and while my head was screaming for a shower, my body was screaming for bed. I passed down on the sofa bed and drifted off to sleep with lovely dreams of Neil.

…

Loud knocking.

I pulled out my phone from under my pillow and checked the time, just a little after 2am. Was I dreaming? The loud knocking still wouldn’t go away, though it probably wasn’t as loud I perceived it to be. I think.

Groaning, I shifted on the sofa bed and dropped to the floor. It hurt, and complaining was silly seeing as I was alone. The knocking was incessant, and I pulled the door open.

I staggered back as some big lug of something that smelled like sweet rain on freshly cut grass crashed into me. Too many things inside my mind, mostly exclamation points.

A completely drenched Neil enveloped me easily in his large arms and I was flushed against his warm body. My heartbeat caught up to the numerous exclamation points inside my brain and it was pounding harder and harder, ricocheting around my ribcage until I couldn’t breathe and I was sure it was because Neil was squeezing the life out of me.

His scent was assaulting my senses and my brain was turning into mush. Very unattractive mush. Stars were exploding in my eyes as I breathed him in slowly as if I hadn’t seen him only a few days prior. A part of me was reminded that Neil conveniently forgot to tell me he was playing here Tuesday, but the other part was asking me why I was even so upset about it. After all, didn’t we decide to wait it out until we attempt figuring out what it was between us?

Ah, who was I kidding?

With another squeeze I was lifted off the floor, and feet were left to dangle in the air as Neil pushed the door closed with his back. I wrapped my arms around him and while I knew I had to say something, all there was, was a satisfied sigh as we landed on the sofa bed behind us.

His head was buried in my neck and his weight was crushing me down. I wasn’t one to complain, but he was massive. I shouldered him off, but he didn’t budge. Instead he gave me a slurry of what sounded like gibberish to me, though it was probably more of that language barrier thing between us.

“Can I help you?” I squeaked, trying to find a position that would let me breathe.

Neil finally raised his head, and there I was lost forever in his dark brown eyes. “Hi,”

“Hi. Great game,”

“Thanks.”

It took a few more moments before it registered that Singapore was a full three hours away by plane, not counting all the casualties that came with it. I thought of something witty to say, something to set the tone back to our usual interaction, but I had nothing. A slow seductive smirk played on his face and I felt my lips quiver in some kind of anticipation.

He shifted a little, giving me breathing space. “You saw the game, huh.”

“It would have been nice if you told me.”

“It was a surprise,”

“I figured.” His hand was warm on my waist and as if that wasn’t enough of a distraction, there was his breath on my cheek, and the way his tongue slipped out and moistened his lips. I tried not to stare at the glisten on said instruments of both magic and torture. I also tried not to think about said implications of magic and torture at the same time. Both attempts failed.

Neil dropped his head on my shoulder again, but this time he propped his arm under my back and  slung my legs over his, cradling me closer.

“So,” I started, “How are you?” He didn’t answer, and it occurred to me that he could have been asleep. “Are you sleeping?”

He answered with a negatory hum.

“Oh, well.” I couldn’t help myself. “What was that game anyway? I mean, seriously. Did you see the stats? What happened there?” I went on with a bout of my piso’s worth of game commentary.

He finally responded and raised his head, “Shut up, you know I hate that. Stop talking.”

I pressed my lips tight trying to hide my amusement. I knew he hated it when we talked about football- when we talked about his game in general. It was on par with my going off in unwarranted scientific jibber-jabber.

I slipped my arm under his neck and drew his head closer. My fingers played with his hair, and he gave a soft sigh. This was nice, but for some reason oddly lacking something.

He groaned again, “I need to borrow your shower.”

I blinked. He stood up and disappeared into my bathroom leaving me wondering if he actually came here straight from his game. I knew he was upset about it, just now the magnitude. I felt suddenly vulnerable knowing I didn’t exactly know how to cheer him up.

Of course, I remembered I hadn’t exactly washed off the rain from my own, well, self, just yet. Again, self-flagellation was in order because certain thoughts of invasion were invading my brain. Minutes later Neil came out partially clothed and rejoined me on the sofa bed positioning himself as before.

“Why do you always smell like rain?” I asked absentmindedly, as rain pattered in a constant cadence on my window.

“I figured out why you smell like roses and bananas and strawberries,”

I ignored that. “Neil,”

“Yeah?”

“Did you fly here right after your game?”

“Yeah,”

“Why?”

“Same reason you flew fifteen hours for me. I thought that would be obvious.”

“Yeah, but won’t you get in some kind of trouble?”

“Not really,”

“Oh,”

At that point I knew there should have been something else. I wasn’t sure what exactly, but I was pretty certain that things like this didn’t end like, well, this. There should have been some kind of, well, fluff involved.

Fluff and warm and fuzzy feelings. Not that I didn’t appreciate Neil being here, quite the contrary. I wanted him to be here, but now that he was, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.

“Shut up,”

“Excuse me? I didn’t even say anything!”

“Your thoughts are too loud.”

“They are not,” I argued. They were not!

“Did you miss me, love?”

And there it was. As if a fleet of butterflies were released in my stomach, the topsy-turvy feelings of being in Neil’s presence was back in full force. Something stirred inside of me, a coil of something akin to desire alighted inside of me. It was sudden, and it was very, very demanding.

It was turning me inside-out, and all out of sorts and Neil raised his head again to look into my eyes. I wanted to look away, but then he was holding me in place, and I pretty much gave in to not really wanting to look away.

There was little point in denying how much I wanted him- in more ways than one. It was surreal that someone like Neil Etherdige was in my arms right now. It brought several waves of insecurity, tipping over my self-esteem, and making me lose all sense of balance and reason. Yet, it didn’t matter. I didn’t want to be that kind of person anymore.

He called out my name and his voice flooded into my ear, that delicious accent of his thicker and sweeter than honey. My heart skipped a beat as he placed my hand over his heart. I was unsure of that queasy sensation in my stomach, and my face felt hot from the inside.

“These wouldn’t happen to be your skintight jeans, now would they?”

My face flushed crimson at the reminder of that Katy Perry song I spiralled down into at that one low point of my life. I couldn’t speak. There were too many exclamation points in my head, and too many wads of cotton in my throat. I had some witty reply to this some time ago, but it was all lost in his mirth.

His heartbeat was steady and slow, and damn this man for keeping his cool like this.

“So, what were you planning for my consolation prize?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no sounds came out. The fact that he was half-naked wouldn’t leave my forebrain, and all conscious thought was overridden by his rippling muscles. It was indecent, and it should have been illegal.

“Nothing? Is that it?” he chuckled. “Honestly love, I’m hurt you don’t have anything for me right now. Can’t you see my heart is in pieces? I’m torn.”

No he wasn’t. Not one bit at all.

There was that impish glint in his eyes, and I just knew that he wasn’t done with his teasing yet. “How’d that song go again? No place I’d rather be, than to be with you underneath these sheets. With ours eyes shut and our lips locked?”

I wanted to sublimate. Just burst into thin air and never reassemble ever again. He chose now of all times to recite that song? Now, with the dim lights, and him holding me the way he did! Neil Etheridge was going to be the death of me. Death I tell you, death.

I couldn’t begrudge him when he was laughing the way he did. With the jetlag and all the stress of flying around, and the results of that game, no one could begrudge him at all. He was a professional, yes. Much was expected of him, yes, but he was still just Neil.

“Could you please stop thinking for a moment?”

“How do you know that?!”

He smiled, “You do this with your face when you’re thinking,” he pulled his brows together and pursed his lips.

“I do not,”

“You do. It’s actually rather kissable if not for the possibility that you’d sucker punch me in the face if I did.”

There my mouth was, opening and shutting close in the most unattractive way possible. I wanted to wipe that smexy smug smirk off his face, because it was crazy unfair that he was cool and composed while I was an utter mess. I always came completely undone whenever he was around. Whatever cool I managed was just ran over every single time he was around.

It was unfair he knew so many things about me, how easy it was for him to read me. Was it part of his field ESP? And then as if he read my mind, he spoke again.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“I hate that I have to share you. Do you know how many fangirls you have?” It came out before I could even think, but I didn’t regret it no matter how embarrassing it was.

Another sexy smile spread across his face. He was so obviously pleased with my answer and he made no show of hiding it. “You must be aware that for all points and purposes, I am very much indeed yours.”

Yours.

Oh how that word had me melting into goop. “I have a question,”

“What is it?”

I had to steel myself for what I was about to ask. It was a legitimate question, and I had been meaning to ask him said question from the very start. “Why aren’t you kissing me yet?”

He laughed. I wanted to sucker punch him so bad he’d wish he’d never been born. “Just dragging out the suspense until you kiss me first.”

I rolled my eyes. “This is all a game to you, isn’t it.”

He licked his lips. I swear the man was teasing me until my limits were stretched far and thin. I was holding on to what little bastions of sanity I had, and I was slipping. Slipping like a meatball on top of spaghetti all covered in cheese.

I tried not to stare at his lips or at the flicker of want in his eyes. My hand was still over his chest, and his heartbeat was growing rapid, thumping harder into my hand. He wanted this, too.

I cleared my throat to take his attention away, or was it to take mine from him? In any case I was just as willing to play his game. “So how are you feeling?”

He raised a brow at me, “You’re really asking me that question?”

I nodded, “I am. You like that word a lot. Feel. Let’s talk about it then.” It never left my mind that the game still ended as it did. I didn’t want him to beat himself up for those two goals the other team got. He had always been very positive, always the one with the motivating thing to say, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get his share of disappointment. I wanted to be able to experience that with him. I didn’t want him to shut me out, I didn’t want to be the only one on the receiving end of the care.

I wanted him to know that I was as there for him as he was for me.

He sighed thoughtfully. “About the game? It’s still sinking in, but what happened tonight is not going to happen again.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “But if we’re talking about right now at this instant, then I’m feeling rather like I want my girlfriend to kiss me.”

Girlfriend.

Yes. So my brain just left my skull. It turned into soup and drained out of my ears. I was left staring at Neil, slack-jawed with nothing to say. Did I ever mention how hot he was?

Yes?

How about the fact that I was in love with his nose? His man hands?

Or maybe the part that this particular face he had on now was a lot more smexier than his game face.

“Well?” he slurred, “I’m waiting.”

Did I ever mention that Neil Etheridge should be classified as some illegal substance? Because he should. He should be classified as a psychoactive drug. Like a hallucinogen, or a stimulant, maybe even a depressant. In any case, whatever Neil had in him was crossing my blood-brain barrier and acting on my nervous system, affecting brain function and causing changes in cognition, perception, mood, consciousness, and behavior.

“Shut up,” he interrupted (my thoughts!), his voice was softer than I’ve ever heard it to be, and I wanted to hear it again. I thought he’d be kissing me by then, but instead he pressed his forehead against mine and his hand that was on my waist slowly slid up my arms and rested on my throat. His warm breath drifted on my cheek in soft puffs that made my toes curl, and my heart raced faster than ever. He brushed his lips softly against my cheek, “You silly, beautiful girl,” he murmured before pressing a kiss on the same spot as before. His other hand threaded its fingers through my hair, drawing me closer, and cupping my head so he could tilt it back as he pressed another kiss on my jaw. There were feather-like touches of his lips everywhere, alternating with playful pecks and nips, and my breathing came out in soft contented sighs. His thumb rubbed slow gentle circles on my cheek, and finally, finally, his lips captured mine.

While I was not at a position to say that Neil’s lips were the softest I have ever tasted, seeing as I’ve never really kissed anyone before, I supposed I could compare them to dessert. Sweet, sensuous, it was chocolate and he knew perfectly well how to use it. With a slight pressure from his tongue, I was surrendering completely into him. His lips left mine, and before I could protest his lips pressed kisses on the corner of my mouth, my cheeks, my jaw, and the sides of my neck.

I thought I would explode. I would implode first, then explode.

And then of course my fingers brush against his bare chest, and his rapid heartbeat drove me insane and completely unhinged. When breathing became necessary again, he slowly pulled away. Between the sharp intakes of breaths Neil found it relevant to flash me that seductive smile of his.

I was too lightheaded, too lost in his kiss, in his eyes, there was no hope for me. I was completely unraveled in his arms.

He took in a big breath. “I need to take another shower. A cold one.”

What?

And just like that he disappeared into my bathroom again, leaving me alone and terribly unsatisfied on that sofa bed. I opened my mouth to protest, but he popped his head out the door before I could.

“And I’m sleeping in your room tonight, you can stay out here. I’m locking the door too, who knows what you might do to me in my sleep.”

And then there he went shutting the door again, leaving me alone in my misery.