Work Text:
Haaland slammed Jude hard against the locker room wall. The cold of the room seeped through his bones as his and his teammate’s lips crashed like waves on the beach, making Jude shiver under his touch. Erling’s hands were climbing up his torso under his kit, touching him all over, claiming him, and Jude was exactly where he wanted to be.
Haaland had scored 2 goals that match, they had won because of him and Jude, impulsively, ran up to hug him, which wouldn’t be something rare for them. The public knew them as very close friends, however what was different on this particular day was that Jude almost forgot about all of the cameras pointed at them, and almost kissed him on the lips. Haaland nudged him away and gave him a warning glare. Jude laughed and he swore he saw Erling smile back, a soft, intimate moment between them. Nothing like what they were doing now.
Jude’s arms wrapped around Haaland’s neck as he moaned his name into his mouth, his hands reaching up to untie his hair and then gently tug it from the scalp. Something only he was allowed to do. Erling groaned above him and removed his hands from Jude’s torso, sliding them to the back of his thighs to pick him up. Jude wrapped his legs around his waist, still kissing him with a level of passion that he didn’t know he could reach until now. But nothing was impossible when he and Erling were together.
Haaland began trying to nudge Jude’s shorts off of him and he smiled into their kisses, helping him pull them off. Jude planted his feet back on the ground and fully took them off, throwing them into a corner and then helping Haaland take his off, too. They were now in their boxers, their lips connecting once more and Jude could feel something hard pressed against his thigh. He couldn’t blame Haaland, though, because Jude was so hard he could cry.
Jude knew Haaland didn’t like to rush, he knew that if he let him be in control they’d kiss and Erling would tease him for another half hour, but today, he felt like he needed to blow off steam right now. No waiting. Jude pulled away and smirked when he saw Haaland’s confused expression, almost looking like a puppy. He flipped them around until he was the one pressing the other into the wall. He got down on his knees and let his fingers linger around Haaland’s waist band.
He looked up at him, smiling deviously as Erling looked extremely red, all of the dominance from earlier disappearing. Jude grabbed Haaland’s clothed dick and listened to him whimper. Then, he grabbed the left side of his boxers and slid it down with his teeth, while making eye contact with the giant above him. Haaland was looking at him dazed, mouth agape.
His boxers were fully off now and Jude swallowed hard as he looked at the size of Erling’s dick. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this before, like this very cock hadn’t been inside of him already. Though he was still nervous, he always was. It was a natural reaction to seeing something as big as that. And, the thing about Erling was that his dick wasn’t just big in the traditional sense, it was also thick. With a wave of bravery, Jude licked it from base to tip slowly, keeping in mind what he had learned from books.
Once he had made it to the tip, he swirled his tongue then spat on the palm of his hand, gripping Erling’s dick from the base and stroking it gently, twisting his wrist just to see him try so desperately to cover up his moans. Jude put the rest in his mouth, still stroking, fastening his pace then slowing down, just to keep Haaland on edge. Jude bobbed his head and hollowed out his cheeks when needed, flattening his tongue on the bottom of Haaland’s dick.
Erling groaned delightfully above him, trying and failing to mute himself. Jude laughed, Haaland’s dick pressed to the inside of his cheek. He looked down at him, angry and amused all at once. “Don’t laugh with my dick in your mouth,” Erling warned him and Jude winked from below, pulling back to give Haaland a kiss on his tip. He made a sound that was close to a growl and put his hand on the back of Jude’s head to gently pull him towards him again.
Jude smiled and gave him exactly what he wanted. He continued to bob his head while shifting his hands to rest on Haaland’s hips. He fastened his pace as he felt Erling’s grip on his hair tighten and his breathing becoming more shallow, a sign that he was close. Jude lowered his head further, aiming to get his whole dick inside his mouth, even if it meant going down his throat. Jude could take it. With every bob he lowered himself downward an inch until he only had a couple centimetres left. “Oh— fuck, Jude,” Haaland moaned deliciously from above and that’s when Jude pulled away, placing a finger on Haaland’s tip.
Erling snapped his head down, looking confused and sweaty and like he was going to break and all Jude could do was smile. Haaland whimpered as he covered his eyes with his forearm, knowing what was coming. Jude removed his finger from Haaland’s tip and he began to gently, but firmly, stroke him from base to tip. It was agonisingly slow and he knew it was just the way Haaland liked and hated it.
He continued, fastening his speed just to slow down again when he felt Erling getting close. The two of them were making painful eye contact until Jude noticed tears prickling at the corners of Haaland’s eyes. Jude cooed and stood up, his knees a little sore. He grabbed Haaland’s jaw with both of his hands and their foreheads pressed together. “Please, I just want to finish,” Erling begged and Jude felt bad for him. “You do?” he asked in a low tone, leaning in to kiss his neck, a hand of his coming down to grab his nape. With his free hand he guided Haaland towards his boxers and helped him pull them down.
Jude was sucking, kissing and biting the skin on Erling’s neck as his boxers were being pulled down, freeing him, too. Jude ripped away from Haaland’s neck to look him in the eye. He smiled as he wiped the tears from his cheeks and kissed them both. Haaland put a hand on top of Jude’s wrist, the one of the hand that was grabbing him by the nape. “Can I?” he asked so dangerously low that Jude thought he had come right then and there. He nodded faster than he’d ever done.
“Ahhh, do you have lube?” Erling asked awkwardly, a smile lingering on his lips and it made Jude laugh. “In my bag.”
“Condoms, too.” he added as Haaland was rummaging around in his duffel. “Were you planning something?” Erling joked and Jude rolled his eyes and chuckled all at once. Once he came back to Jude, he noticed that he hadn’t grabbed the condoms he had purposely packed. As if he had heard what Jude had thought, Haaland pouted and pecked him on the lips before pulling back and brushing his fingers against his cheek. “Come on, it’s just me. I’m not doing this with anyone else…” Haaland said and it made Jude’s face flush a terrible shade of red.
He smiled back at his gentle giant and accepted. Haaland squirted a fair amount of lube on his fingers and on his dick before tossing it back, landing it exactly into Jude’s bag. A year or two ago, Jude would’ve been shocked, but now he had played so many matches with Haaland that if he hadn’t made that Jude would’ve taken him to the ER.
They got close to each other again and Haaland flipped them once more and lifted Jude, allowing him to wrap himself around Haaland. Jude exhaled as Haaland’s fingers pushed into him, opening him up. Jude’s head rested against the wall as he clenched his teeth so as to not be too loud. It took Haaland a few minutes to get him loose enough, and when he did he wrapped an arm around Jude’s back and pushed into him as slowly as he could. Jude bit his lip so hard he was about to draw blood. Haaland was fully inside of him now and Jude had forgotten how lovely it was to feel full. “Fuck, you’re so tight, angel…” he groaned and Jude felt like he was going insane.
Haaland started with slow movements, then steadily going faster and faster until he had found his preferred pace. All Jude could do was rest his head in the crook of Erling’s neck with his mouth hanging open. All of a sudden, Haaland stopped his rhythm and Jude’s head jerked up. “What are you doing?” he asked, almost panicked, worried that he was about to receive the same treatment he had given. Haaland, sensing his worry, just chuckled. “I want to switch angles.” He explained and Jude exhaled.
Erling shifted his position by just a few centimetres, so little that Jude could barely tell the difference, but when he started driving into him again, hitting his prostate again and again at the perfect angle, he was almost screaming. “Bite down,” Haaland instructed, moaning as well but not nearly as loud as Jude. “You don’t want them hearing us, don’t you?” Erling reminded him and Jude took his advice, biting down on his teammate’s shoulder as his eyes rolled into his head.
Haaland fastened his pace with every time he shoved himself into Jude, making him bite down harder and harder onto his shoulder, though he never complained. Jude felt a hot sensation in his deep core and his legs started to shiver. He was so glad that they wouldn’t have any matches for at least a week. He felt hot tears roll down his cheeks as his vision started to get a little blurry.
Haaland slammed into him 3 more times rapidly, then the fourth was long and slow and that was all Jude needed to finish. He curled his toes as warmth filled him up to the very brim. Jude’s jaw loosened its grip on Haaland’s shoulder and he pushed Jude away from him to look at his face. He grabbed his jawline with his large hand and stroked it, smiling at his destroyed expression. Erling pulled out slowly, still holding Jude up like he didn’t weigh anything.
Jude looked down at Haaland’s shirt, horrified. Not only had he finished on it, leaving white liquid all over the stomach area, Jude had bitten down on Erling so hard that he had drawn blood, leaving a yellow shoulder stained red. Jude began apologising profusely and Haaland just laughed, telling him he didn’t mind. Jude couldn’t understand how he could be so casual about everything, but it was the thing he loved most about him.
There was something between the two that was different from other friendships made in football. Even without counting the fact that they were most likely the only ones fucking the lives out of each other after every match and, sometimes, more often. The thing about them that made Jude insane was that they had more than just a sexual relationship, they connected on such a deep level. And Jude knew they could never be together, that was the part that hurt the most. He’d do anything to live a domestic life with Haaland. But he couldn’t just throw his career away. Jude looked at Erling longingly, wondering if he knew what he was thinking about, wondering if he felt the same.
They shared a moment of pure intimacy. Their lips collided into slow, loving kisses. No tongue, nothing like they usually did. Something innocent, completely unlike them. It made him overly overwhelmed with how much he loved him, how much he wished he could say it and how much he knew he couldn’t. Jude suddenly commanded Haaland to set him down, even if his legs were all wobbly. He couldn’t handle any of this right now. The two of them had completely forgotten where they were, until they heard, “Erling! Jude! Where are you two?” a familiar voice calling to them, dangerously close to the locker room.