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There was perhaps no sweeter torture for Luka Modrić than being placed side by side in a Christmas shoot with Sergio Ramos.
The truth was, Sergio Ramos was handsome. The kind of handsome that tied Luka’s thoughts in sailor’s knots, the kind that made his heart flutter. And well, being next to him simply wasn’t helping matters.
First of all, it was hard to look at Sergio and not let his mind wander, especially when the man’s cozy wool sweater clung so tightly to his biceps. Luka bit his lip hard and hugged himself, both as a distraction and as a means of trying to rub some warmth back into his arms. Deep down, though, he knew it would never feel the same as if it were Sergio’s strong arms wrapped securely around him, grounding him.
There were so many lines Luka was supposed to remember for this particular shoot, but they all wound up tangled in his head minutes after he read them, a phenomenon that might’ve had something to do with the beautiful Spaniard beside him.
Somehow, Spanish always sounded more beautiful when Sergio spoke it. Maybe it came down to his Andalusian accent, to the way it seemed to soften the syllables of every word. Or maybe it was the way his lips moved when he spoke, the way they always seemed to tip ever so slightly upwards, teasing Luka with a hint of a smile.
God, Sese’s lips.
They were so soft, so plump. They made Luka crave his kisses. Sergio was a gentle kisser; he liked to take his time. And even though it was torture, Luka liked it too; nothing could make him feel as loved, as cherished, as Sese’s kisses did. Luka loved everything about the way Sergio kissed, from the way he started with just a brush of his lips against Luka’s, down to the way he sucked softly on Luka’s lower lip, tugging it with his teeth just a little before he pulled away. And he always broke their kiss with the most tender, disarming smile Luka had ever seen. Every time Sese flashed those gleaming teeth, Luka wanted to do everything he asked. Everything.
See, Sergio had this habit of smiling with his whole face, as opposed to just his lips and eyes. It was as if he threw his entire being headfirst into the act of being happy. It was so easy to be charmed, to melt in the warmth of it all. So easy, in fact, that Luka kept missing his cues to speak.
He shouldn’t have been so flustered, so affected by Sergio, but it was impossible to ignore the way his heart hammered away in his chest. The crystal goblet of champagne Luka was holding trembled in his tight grip.
A tattooed hand steadied Luka’s own. “Aguanta un poco más, Lukita,” Sergio whispered, his lips grazing Luka’s ear as he spoke. Warm, pleasant shivers rattled Luka’s body.
They both ran through their lines four more times, and with each attempt, Luka was convinced his delivery worsened. Every time he tried to speak, the words ran together in his mouth.
Before the crew could yell “action!” for the last time, Sergio had already opened his mouth to speak to Luka.
“¿Estás cansado, Lukita mío?” he asked, curling an arm around his shoulder. Sergio was warm, so warm, just like his dazzling smile. On instinct, Luka nestled closer. He could barely force a sluggish “sí” between his lips.
Sergio nodded slowly, understanding softening his gaze. “It’s been a long day.” He rubbed small circles into Luka’s shoulder blades, and Luka tried and failed not to relish the touch, leaning back into Sergio’s massaging hands.
After a minute, he watched Sese stand up and walk over to the camera crew through bleary eyes.
“We came here from training,” Sergio explained. “Maybe we could pick up where we left off tomorrow? I’m sure you all want to get back to your families.” Sergio smiled his usual sparkling smile then, insisting to the camera crew that they would be fine and that they’d have their precious Christmas advert by tomorrow evening.
Reluctantly, everyone filed out, switching off the cameras on the way. When the door clicked shut behind the last crew member, Sergio returned his attention to Luka.
“Better?” he asked softly. “I figure we’ve had cameras shoved in our faces plenty for one day.”
With the camera crew all gone, Luka found the space much cozier. A faux fire crackled quietly before them, casting a pool of golden light on the fur carpet below.
Still, the warmth of the fire failed to reach him, and chills rattled his body. Beside him, Sergio shifted closer.
“You’re always so cold,” he murmured. “Here.” Before he could protest, his captain had curled his fingers around a throw blanket draped over the leather couch they were seated on, tucking the soft material underneath both of Luka’s shivering shoulders.
“Thank you,” Luka replied, trying and failing to keep a blush from painting his cheeks an embarrassing crimson color. He bowed his head, unable to meet Sergio’s kind eyes. Unfortunately for him, Sergio noticed immediately and tilted his chin up, caressing his flushed cheeks.
“You’re always welcome, Lukita mío,” Sese replied, gaze softening. Luka held his stare for a moment, chasing the fire waltzing around Sergio’s caramel-colored eyes, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
It was only a particularly loud pop emanating from the artificial fire before them that snapped Luka out of his daze. Somewhat reluctantly, he pulled away, sinking back into the chair. In the process, he found himself captivated by the soft glow of the twinkling white lights dangling from the fireplace mantle. He let his gaze lose its usual sharp focus, opting to stare blankly ahead at them instead.
For the first time that day, he felt serene, safe. He melted completely into the couch and allowed himself one long, loud exhale. Soreness was beginning to worm its way into his muscles, and even though he felt guilty admitting it, it felt unbelievably good to lie down. Especially now that the blanket’s warmth and Sergio’s body heat were soaking slowly into his skin.
“There you go,” Sergio said with a soft smile that seemed to rise up his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “That’s better.” He leaned in close, and Luka tilted his head to face him, inhaling the sweet, intoxicating scent of his cologne before Sergio’s soft lips planted a kiss on his forehead. One of Sese's heavily tattooed hands sifted through his hair as well, and he had to fight the urge to tense. Even though he trusted the man beside him, Luka still struggled to open himself up to him, to accept that he was deserving of such kind attention. Sergio’s smile never wavered, however, and his hand began to scratch Luka’s scalp with just the lightest graze of his fingernails. It was the most intoxicating bliss, especially when Sergio began to tug gently—experimentally—on the strands as he continued to pet Luka’s head.
“Is this ok, Lukita?” Sergio murmured. Luka barely mustered a slight nod of his head, reluctant to move, even a little, for fear that Sergio would stop.
The question reminded Luka of something Sergio said to him when he’d first arrived in Madrid. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe,” Sergio had assured him, one palm firmly planted on his shoulder and the other molded around his cheek. Even then, his easy sincerity knocked the wind out of Luka.
Turns out, Luka was still gasping for air, perpetually yet delightfully breathless in Sergio’s presence. The most poetic of oxymorons.
A soft smile lit up Sese’s face, and his golden brown eyes twinkled. “Good, I’m glad. I love the way your hair feels in my hands, Lukita.” His hands didn’t pause their petting either; they just continued the same soothing, rhythmic motion. Up and down, up and down. Luka closed his eyes in spite of himself. They were tearing from the effort of staying open for so long anyway. His head lolled to the side, unwilling to stay upright any longer, seeking the safety of Sergio’s shoulder.
He must’ve found it eventually, because he felt the scratch of Sergio’s wool sweater against his cheek. Luka heard rather than saw Sergio’s smile.
“What are your plans for tomorrow, Lukita?” Sese whispered.
“I dunno,” Luka drawled, nestling into the curve of Sergio’s neck.
Luckily, Sese didn’t seem to mind the curt answer and filled the silence by talking about his plans to return home to Camas to see his family. He rambled on softly about how much missed the sun of Andalucía and inhaling the cool ocean breeze. It was fresher there than anywhere else, he claimed.
At some point, Luka stopped focusing on the content of the conversation and listened intently to Sergio's deep, soothing voice instead. And it was only then, that, unbeknownst to him, he stopped resisting the gentle pull of sleep.
Luka didn’t know how long he was out, he only knew that he must’ve been, because when Sergio shifted a bit, he stirred.
“Did I-?” he mumbled, the words tripping over themselves as he spoke.
Sergio’s hand returned to scratching Luka’s scalp. “Yeah, you did,” he said softly. “No pasa nada, Lukita.”
“I-I’m so sorry, Sergio. I didn’t mean to–,” Luka stammered.
“It’s ok. You’ve been working so hard lately. You just needed some rest. There’s no shame in that.”
Luka wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, so he settled for the only way he could: sighing contently. It was an honest reaction; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well.
“Ya know, I saw you looking at my lips during the shoot.” Luka could hear the smirk in Sergio’s voice as he spoke, and just like that, he was wide awake. “Wasn’t subtle.”
“Why…why didn’t you do anything about it?”
Sese reached out, tracing Luka’s slightly chapped lips with his index finger. He paid special attention to the spots where Luka had bitten down during the shoot, rubbing back and forth, back and forth, along the miniature craters there.
“Because I didn’t want to kiss you with everyone here,” he admitted. “I wanted something more…intimate.”
“Intimate?” Luka replied in a voice that was half-gasp, half-sound. His heart rammed against his ribs in anticipation.
Sergio cupped Luka's face with both hands then, drawing him closer. His thumb traced a path from the sensitive skin of his earlobe down the curve of his jaw and back up again. Luka shivered in spite of himself at the gentle touch.
“Respira, Lukita mío. Respira,” Sergio whispered, giving Luka time to take a deep breath before he leaned in, molding his lips to Luka’s and sucking softly. Luka clung to him, blunt fingernails digging as best they could into Sergio’s biceps in the hopes that if he held onto him tight enough, Sese wouldn’t pull away. Because right there, in that moment, bracketed by Sergio’s strong arms, Luka felt completely, deliciously warm.