Hugh sighs. “They’re an Italian team. Their rival is Juventus, and they say ‘better that Juventus loses than we win!’ That’s how mad about it they are. Anyway, some famous Fiorentina player, not Giancarlo Antognoni, because I think that bastard’s still alive, but anyway, some famous Fiorentina player was at his death bed, surrounded by his whole family and he said to them, just as he was about to go, ‘Now, I become a Juventus fan!’” Stark laughed at his phony Italian accent and Hugh grinned before continuing, “And his family said to him, ‘why would you do such a thing?’ and he replied, ‘now a Juventus fan is going to die!’”
Stark cracked up and Hugh shook his finger at him. “So you see, it’s quite serious. I hear in Holland when Ajax and Feyenoord play each other they have to stick them on separate trains where they’ve removed everything breakable so that they don’t do each other serious damage.” He gives Stark a mock grave look and then starts telling him all about Spanish fans and how psychotic they get.
“Well, thanks?”
It’s not much, but armed with a few Wikipedia searches and a yahoo!sports statistical rundown, Stark feels slightly better about it. They fly out of JFK on a Tuesday and arrive very early Wednesday morning. That first day all they do is sleep, adjusting to the time lag.
Alex is very open about his family and they’re very close. Nevertheless they seem mostly indifferent to Stark. Don’t take it personally, Alex tells him while they brush their teeth over the tiny porcelain sink. Stark doesn’t care. It’s not like he’s marrying into the family, but he knows this must matter a lot to Alex. He rubs to gentle fingers down the delicate slope of Alex’s neck when he bends over to spit out his toothpaste.
Stockholm’s beautiful and Stark adores how obvious it is that Alex loves it. They spend the day in Kungsträdgården, lounging in the sun and people watching. Alex said they’d have to come back for ice skating in the winter. Now, Stark’s nose is slightly red and the skin under his eyes is pale from the line of his sunglasses. He tells Alex he’ll have to buy sunscreen tomorrow, and Alex kisses across his cheekbone and says, “Anything higher than SPF 10 is going to be expensive.”
“Would you stay here if you could?” he says after Alex fucked him, boneless and comfortable, lying in Alex’s bed.
Alex rolls over to face him. He bites at his lip and then says, “No.” And there is so much in his face. Stark’s heart tightens painfully.
The next day is spent museum hopping: first the Nationalmuseum and then the Moderna Museet. Alex doesn’t have much patience for staring at paintings, but Stark appreciates the effort. It’s clear how much more excited Alex is when they get to Skansen. He says he doesn’t care about a lot of old houses, but Stark knows it’s a lie. Alex looks positively gleeful when he points out the world’s largest cigar.
“Seriously?” Stark says.
Alex is recognized by some tourists and he waves at them before turning back to Stark. “That’s a work of genius right there.”
Stark shakes his head. “I don’t think any of us ever quite realized how strange you are.”
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Re: prompt, Part 2
Date: 2009-10-19 08:02 am (UTC)Stark cracked up and Hugh shook his finger at him. “So you see, it’s quite serious. I hear in Holland when Ajax and Feyenoord play each other they have to stick them on separate trains where they’ve removed everything breakable so that they don’t do each other serious damage.” He gives Stark a mock grave look and then starts telling him all about Spanish fans and how psychotic they get.
“Well, thanks?”
It’s not much, but armed with a few Wikipedia searches and a yahoo!sports statistical rundown, Stark feels slightly better about it. They fly out of JFK on a Tuesday and arrive very early Wednesday morning. That first day all they do is sleep, adjusting to the time lag.
Alex is very open about his family and they’re very close. Nevertheless they seem mostly indifferent to Stark. Don’t take it personally, Alex tells him while they brush their teeth over the tiny porcelain sink. Stark doesn’t care. It’s not like he’s marrying into the family, but he knows this must matter a lot to Alex. He rubs to gentle fingers down the delicate slope of Alex’s neck when he bends over to spit out his toothpaste.
Stockholm’s beautiful and Stark adores how obvious it is that Alex loves it. They spend the day in Kungsträdgården, lounging in the sun and people watching. Alex said they’d have to come back for ice skating in the winter. Now, Stark’s nose is slightly red and the skin under his eyes is pale from the line of his sunglasses. He tells Alex he’ll have to buy sunscreen tomorrow, and Alex kisses across his cheekbone and says, “Anything higher than SPF 10 is going to be expensive.”
“Would you stay here if you could?” he says after Alex fucked him, boneless and comfortable, lying in Alex’s bed.
Alex rolls over to face him. He bites at his lip and then says, “No.” And there is so much in his face. Stark’s heart tightens painfully.
The next day is spent museum hopping: first the Nationalmuseum and then the Moderna Museet. Alex doesn’t have much patience for staring at paintings, but Stark appreciates the effort. It’s clear how much more excited Alex is when they get to Skansen. He says he doesn’t care about a lot of old houses, but Stark knows it’s a lie. Alex looks positively gleeful when he points out the world’s largest cigar.
“Seriously?” Stark says.
Alex is recognized by some tourists and he waves at them before turning back to Stark. “That’s a work of genius right there.”
Stark shakes his head. “I don’t think any of us ever quite realized how strange you are.”