Chapter Text
The minute the call dropped, Pedri called Gavi. Gavi had a girlfriend. He must know something about all of this, right? And he had offered—just the previous day—to talk. He wasn’t sure who else to turn to. He didn’t have a therapist like Ferran did. He could call his brother or his parents but that would be a longer conversation than he wanted and it would definitely veer off track from what he really wanted to discuss. He didn’t want to discuss being gay with them—not right now. He wanted to discuss Ferran. What to do about it all.
"Pedri?" Gavi muttered, "Dude, it’s late as hell. You should be asleep, we fly to Basel tomorrow."
Shit. Gavi was right.
"I can’t go," Pedri said. "My injury."
"Your bullshit injury you made up because you’re sad Ferran is leaving?" Gavi replied. He waited a moment. "Does Flick know?"
"I doubt he’ll want me there in this state."
"So that’s a no."
"I’ll message him."
"Pedri."
"I’m not going."
"Well then neither am I."
"What?"
"You clearly need someone to help you with your… injury. I’m not exactly keen to be playing, anyway. I should be resting."
Gavi sighed. He knew what this was about.
"Did something happen with Ferran?" He asked.
"He called me."
"When?"
"Just now. We just hung up."
"Jesus Pedri. You didn’t want to take any time to process before calling me?"
"I didn’t want to do anything dramatic."
"You aren’t thinking about ki-"
"No, Gavi. But I would’ve called him back if I hadn’t called you. I would’ve given in."
"What exactly did he tell you?"
Pedri was quiet on the other end of the line.
"You’ve made it this far, Pedri. There’s no use hiding now. Just tell me. Clearly I’m not going to judge you. For liking a man, anyway. I reserve my right to judge you for your taste in men."
Pedri sighed.
"I told Ferran I was in love with him yesterday," Pedri said. "That I have been for… a while."
"…And what did he say?"
"He left. Without saying anything."
"Fuck, dude. What an asshole. I guess you have your answer, then?"
"But then he called me tonight," Pedri continued. "And, after he apologized for yesterday, he sort of… told me he loved me back?"
"And do you believe him?"
Gavi had his phone in one hand and his head in his other, his fingers pinching the space between his brows. All of his gay friends had to make things complicated. Never had he heard a crazier love story than from one of his gay friends. He hadn't walked out on his now-girlfriend when she had told him she loved him and that confession sure as hell didn’t come after a heated argument. His sample size was small, sure, but he was noticing a pattern.
"He sounded… I don’t know. Scared? Like he wasn’t sure what he was saying."
"Pedri, if you’re trying to convince me that he’s in love with you, you might want to try and convince yourself, first—or at least try to sound convinced."
"But that tracks, doesn’t it? If he didn’t even think about me that way before I said anything. It took me a while to be okay with… you know. Everything."
"If he never thought about you that way before, how is he all of the sudden in love with you?"
"I don’t know! All I know is what he said. And how he sounded."
Gavi sighed. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was trying to get at.
"Is there any reason you can think of that he would lie to you about this?" He asked.
Pedri paused. "No. There’re easier ways to get me to forgive him, if that’s what you mean. He could’ve easily apologized, said he didn’t feel the same, said that he overreacted, and moved on."
Gavi considered this. He would need to talk to Ferran.
"Can I call you back, Pedri? Or are you going to do something dramatic. I need to collect my thoughts. And maybe call Ferran."
"Sorry for getting you involved, Gavi. But thank you."
"Are you kidding me? This is the juiciest drama I’ve ever been apart of. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Love you, hermano."
"Love you, Gavi. Thank you."
Gavi hung up the phone. He pinched his brow again. He shouldn’t call Ferran right now, should he? He was dialing before he could give it a second thought.
"Gavi?" Ferran said on the other line.
"You dumbass!" He said.
"Woah! What?"
"You broke Pedri!"
"How did- what? What do you mean I broke him?"
"He just called me, right after he got off the line with you."
"He just- he told you about…"
"Oh don’t get your panties in a twist, Ferran. Pedri’s been giving you eyes for almost as long as I’ve known him and you don’t exactly pause before you put your hands—and your mouth—all over him. And you need to be quieter if you’re going to argue in the locker rooms."
Ferran wasn’t sure what to say. Gavi wouldn’t have been the first he would tell about any of this, but, at the moment, he was sort of his only option outside of Pedri.
"Okay, okay. Point taken. What did, uh, what did Pedri say?"
"He said you told him that you were in love with him. Is this true? He wasn’t convinced and neither am I. Explain yourself."
Ferran sighed.
"I’ve been thinking," he said.
"With your mind or with your di-"
"With my mind, Gavi, Jesus. I've had hours of travel time and hours on the field doing mind-numbing drills and then I’ve been sitting in this hotel room for who knows how long and I just… I’ve been thinking, okay?"
"About Pedri?"
"Yes, Gavi. About Pedri. After he told me he was in love with me I panicked. I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything and then I went to my car and freaked the fuck out. I think I panicked because, the minute he said how he felt, I knew I felt the same. It was like my heart, I dunno. Bloomed. Or some bullshit. And that scared me so I left."
"You’re an idiot, Ferran. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"Only every girl I’ve ever dated."
Gavi laughed.
"Poor Pedri."
"Hey!"
"I’ve got gay friends I’d love to set him up with--just saying."
"Since when do you have an abundance of gay friends?"
"Don’t change the subject on me, Torres. If you hurt Pedri I’m flying to Paris and kicking your ass, okay? Now I’m going to hang up and you’re going to call Pedri and tell him exactly what you just told me, okay?"
"Yes, Gavi. Okay."
"Good."
"Good night, Gavi."
"Night, Ferran."