#ki.fic

https://www.tumblr.com/odericevertz/818607645430857728/whole-dash-in-a-rpf-mood-and-so-am-i-chipping?source=share

“Well, if something ever happens to you, I’d love to.” Declan shrugged.

“Is that a threat?”

“Is that what it sounds like to you?”

sincaraz, pre-wimby25 relationship study. T, 2.2k.

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martin/kai/declan, real madrid!martin au, told through a mix of social media posts, articles, and traditional narrative. T, 5.2k.

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"bite"

“I don’t even want to pilot with him.” He took a loud bite of his toast.

Kai stared. “What?”

“Just wanted to know.”

“Know what?”

“What’s your game.”

“No game,” Declan says, smug and guileless where he’s sprawled across the sheets. Martin can’t stand him. He drops onto his elbows, cocks his head. “You coming over here?”

Everything’s a fight with them. “Last I checked you weren’t the one who scored,” Martin says.

Beat, test. Give. Declan rolls his eyes and bounds up, lithe and expansive. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, already closing the distance between them. On the pale skin of his chest exertion shows up like sunburn; Martin digs the heel of his palm into his sternum, the bite of bone against bone hard enough for him to feel it.

Declan looks at him. This close Martin has to tilt his head up. Under his hand Declan runs steady and hot. “So,” he says.

He unlatched the door and stilled.

“Jannik,” Carlos said, relieved and terrible all at once. He had a bag slung over one shoulder and was squinting against the sunlight, one hand shielding his face. “You are here.”

“What,” Jannik started, and stopped, catalogued the rush of emotions that surged up at that, at seeing him wear something that wasn’t the fucking striped kit, say something that wasn’t a variation on You played well. The irrational urge to reach out and pinch him flared; he stamped it out with about as much calm as he could muster. “This is my house.”

“Yes, I mean—“ Carlos frowned. “I just mean, like, you come to the door— you answer — I thought, you know, your mom—“ He cut himself off then, frowned a little harder at Jannik. “You’re joking.”

“Yes,” Jannik said. He could feel himself smiling, just a little; he couldn’t help it.

Carlos was watching him. For a moment they stood there in silence. Jannik took him in properly as the amusement ebbed: the way his hand cast shadows on his face, the motion of his throat as he swallowed. He hadn’t shaved in a few days. In the distance a car honked loudly, set off a flock of birds.

martin/kai/declan, the summer offseason, somehow developing polyamory and established relationship at the same time. M, 8.1k.

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