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The game was a disaster for him. The not completely healed cold reminded of itself as he was more tired than usual and kept sneezing during every action. Even the long-sleeved blouse he rarely opted for couldn’t rob him off the chill that seemed to emanate from within him.
They were winning, but it didn’t feel deserved considering their and their opponents’ play. Controversial yellow card here, controversial not dictated penalty there, the most controversial rule out of the rivals’ goal. No wonder everyone gossiped about bribery afterward.
But these weren’t the things that irked Luka the most. He tried to play fair by himself and didn’t feel any inner urge to repair the whole world of football. The reason of his growing irritation had blonde hair, face of a boy and most unnerving tendency to stick too close to Sergio. That came partly from his attacker’s position, true, but there was no need to cling bodily to Sergio in order to pass their defenses.
There was no need to fall straight into Sergio’s arms, bringing them both down and rolling in the grass with legs and bits of turf flying around. There was no need to stay glued to Luka’s captain when the ball was on the other side of the pitch.
And Sergio’s response to all this made Luka grind his teeth. Sergio, who would normally snarl at the daring rival, shake off the too familiar hand from his shoulder before it could hinder his availability in the game, who would normally lash out at the first hint of messing up with him – Sergio smiled at the boy instead, exchanged significant glances and murmured words with him whenever the ball was safely away from their goal.
They were winning 2:1 and the game was heading to an end when Sergio finally got booked. Luka trotted to the area where he tackled the annoying blonde, thinking that that was it: Sergio lost his temper at last, treated the opponent player as he asked to be treated since the game started. Luka was ready to step in to placate Sergio, to prevent him from yelling at the referee…
Only that, when Luka approached, Sergio was already helping the boy up, making sure he’s all right, petting his hair- what the fuck was that?
There wasn’t one complain toward the referee from Sergio; no protesting, no gestures of how unjustly was he treated. Then the number of Sergio’s yellow cards hit Luka, enlightening him and the irritation turned into anger. Oh, so they plotted that, seethed Luka, looking at Sergio making a conspiratorial face at the blondie.
*
“Hey, you sloped off pretty quickly after the game,” Sergio called with mock accusation, catching up with Luka at the parking lot, throwing an arm at his shoulder. “I haven’t had the time to properly celebrate the victory with you.”
The hand wandered to the nape of Luka’s neck, fingers wove into longer strands of hair there, like Sergio was about to hold him in for a kiss. Luka wriggled out of Sergio’s grasp, wincing as the ring pulled at his hair.
Sergio, never the one to read at subtle gestures, waved off Luka’s evasiveness.
“Are you still sick? It’s not like you to ditch locker room mini-party, escaping to the bus as the first one.”
“Oh, you seemed to have quite an absorbing company back there. In fact, I’m surprised you are here already.”
“What are you talking about?” Sergio frowned.
“Don’t you have to thank someone? He was so compliant with your wishes after all. What’d you promised him in return for that fake tackle? A quick blow job after the game?”
Luka saw confusion seeping away from Sergio’s face, slowly replaced by an anger. He didn’t back off from Sergio looming over him.
“Even if I did, that’s in no way your business.” Sergio growled, like he had any right to be the one angry here.
Oh no, between the two of them, Luka was far more outraged, and he was going to make Sergio aware of that.
“Not my business?!” Luka yelled, not caring if their teammates were coming, if the driver was there already. “You possessive, jealous bastard! You freak out when I do as much as take off my shirt on the pitch and what are you doing?! Eye-fucking that blonde on the pitch right under my nose, don’t think I don’t see how you couldn’t keep your hands off him! And don’t think I don’t know what you do with all the singers you keep inviting. ‘Recording new music videos’, my ass. You’re a footballer, not a musician!”
If Sergio was angry before, now he was bristling.
“Hey, fuck off! I’m not yours exclusively. You,” Sergio poked him in the chest but Luka stood his ground, not retreating one inch, as Sergio got threateningly close, “knew well I have a girlfriend when we started all this.”
“That’s different!” Luka batted his hand away, straightening all his posture to try to get in his face. “Pilar is there for years at your side – though heavens know how she withstands you – but all these guys you’re clinging to! Fuck buddies, one night stands. Somehow I don’t see that many girls around you. So Pilar’s enough for all women in your life for you but I’m not good enough to stand for other men?! Or maybe you like that, don’t you, having such diversity, so many boys to choose form, like a fucking harem! Can’t be faithful to just one. Tell me, you pick them up when they line up before the game? Check them out online before? You know, maybe you should find someone other to fuck with when you’re high after a match with Real. Some Spaniard, maybe, so you have him on national gatherings, too, and won’t be forced to look out for someone new every game!”
Spilling an insult after an insult, Luka finally felt hot, too hot even, like all the blood from his body rushed into his head. He saw corresponding flush on Sergio’s face. This close, despite the dim light, Luka could see veins throbbing and sweat pearling at Sergio’s reddened skin.
“You know, maybe I will find someone else here.” Sergio fumed. “Not like the team is lacking in hot guys. Someone that won’t give me the drama worse than Pilar ever did.”
“Good luck,” Luka spat.
They glared at each other until Sergio stepped back, but it didn’t feel like a victory. Luka’s agitation didn’t relent in the slightest. The only satisfaction he drew from the fact Sergio was now equally mad as he was.
“You’ll see.” Sergio blustered, walking away.
“Puta!” Luka called after him, refusing to let Sergio have the last word.
Sergio showed him a finger, without turning back.
They spend all the way back to Madrid in separate sides of the bus, ignoring each other.
*
That avoidance became a pattern to them. On training grounds they would stay in separate groups, making sure they landed in opponent teams if they played a mock match. Each of them acted like the other didn't exist, not even getting involved in each other’s shenanigans.
Sergio might be making a fool of himself, always a willing comedian to entertain the whole team and Luka would usually indulge him, but not today. Today he walked away, not even looking in Sergio’s direction, even though the others doubled over in laughter, watching him.
Sergio would usually came at him, not fond of being ignored, would tease him, tackle him, bring him down to the ground, until Luka would be amused even against his will, lips turning up into a smile impossible to thwart. But not today. Today Sergio only walked back to the group of his admirers; peers amused, youngsters staring with sparkling from adoration eyes.
“Hey, did you see that, Lukita?” Marcelo laughed, making a grab for Luka. “Capi, is that supposed to be a new technique, we play on all fours now?” He called out to Sergio.
Luka slipped out before Sergio could approach them and Marcelo luckily stayed engaged in conversation with him rather than going after Luka.
“Would surprise the enemy surely, eh?” Luka overheard Sergio speaking yet.
*
At other gatherings it was much the same. They choose seats as far apart as wouldn't be suspicious; while posing to group pictures, when captain and golden ball winner needed to be in the first row - even then they made sure there was at least one other player separating them.
*
During a match, after a goal Sergio would not run up to him anymore to close him into a hug, Luka would not hop into his invitingly spread arms. What Luka hated the most was the fact that Sergio was doing far better job at blowing him off than vice versa. Nothing could damp Sergio’s good humor.
Luka watched Sergio jump at Reguilon, whirling the overjoyed youngster around and wondered if Sergio was so quick to listen to his reckless advice. To think about that, Sergio had been displaying surprisingly high amount of care toward this particular boy recently. Luka remembered the game when Sergio made such a fuss about him, how he stayed leaning close to Reguilon sitting on the turf, how he gestured to Solari to maybe sub the youth. Was it only a captain’s concern for a player or was there something more behind it?
Not feeling like celebrating anymore, he walked away from the joyful scene, ignoring Karim's hand trying to stop him and his ask if everything was ok.
“I'm fine, let me go.”
Luka couldn’t stop Sergio from displaying his childish revenge, but he wouldn’t at least look at that. He wished he could care so little himself or pretend so well too but the pain he felt at the sight of Sergio with other men, at the thought of what'd he be doing with them later was too much to confine inside.
*
Vinicius had had perfect occasions for scoring but he hesitated, dribbled too long or passed when he should had taken a shot himself. They could make it a draw easily, maybe even a win and so many wasted chances peeved Luka. So he came at the teen after the match.
“Why you didn’t shot when you had the chance? What the hell was that?”
“I wanted to but then I saw Karim approaching and I thought he’d-”
“And that’s the mistake! The game is not a time for thinking too much. You need to make quick decisions, sometimes take a risk.”
“I know, I’ll try to do better next time.”
“Or that situation with Pique. How could you give the ball so easily away? He’s more experienced, sure, but you’re quicker.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll try better, really.”
“It’s not enough to try, you need to act. You just never hesitate on the pitch, there is no place for that. You think others will wait for you ‘till you got precise position you want? Until you set the ball exactly where you want it? No, they will come at you, taking the ball away and leave you, and our team, with another wasted opportunity.”
A hand fell on his shoulder and Luka turned to see Karim there, looking somewhat strangely at him.
“Don’t you think that’s enough of lecturing, Luka? He’s just eighteen and I think he gets it already,” Karim smiled at Vini reassuringly and the youth answered tentatively. Only now Luka realized that maybe he took it a bit too far indeed, the kid looked pretty upset.
Karim’s next words stung like a needle.
“Maybe you spend too much time with Sergio, slowly turning into him?”
*
The more relaxed Sergio acted, the more annoyed Luka felt. His irritation skyrocketed, whenever during a training Sergio would tackle someone to the ground, then lie at them for good measure so they couldn’t stay up too quickly. Whenever Sergio hugged someone else a while too long; or just when Sergio was generally having a great time in the group of likewise elated people.
Luka focused on the training and pretended he didn’t care.
“What the fuck was that?” he snapped as the ball from Gareth rolled completely out of his reach. “How'd you passed, you were supposed to pass to Dani now, not to Lucas. How are we supposed to play when our forward makes such mistakes!”
Gareth laughed him off, genuinely thinking Luka was joking and it was frustrating to no end not to be taken seriously. Somehow nobody took Sergio's outbursts for pretending fun.
As some time later a ball from Gareth hit him in the calves, Luka whirled around and kicked it as far as he could, sending it flying to the other side of the pitch. The reprieve was just a second’s long. Luka focused back on training, ignoring people around.
He was doing it fine until Gareth run up to him and threw his long arm around him. Luka tried to shake it off but Gareth was too insisting.
"You are so cute when you're mad," the Welshmen said, leaning to Luka's ear.
And instead of aggravating him further, it made the tension seep away a bit. Gareth didn't speak much but when he did, it was somehow always exactly what Luka needed. And just like that a part of the weigh that crashed Luka’s heart was lifted up, because it was impossible to stay wound up tight in the face of such an… English stoicism that Gareth emanated.
Gareth’s next words made it worse, though.
“But that Sergio imitation earlier was really spot on.”
“I wasn’t-” irritation hit him again and, fuming, Luka glanced around in search for another ball to kick, because, keen as they all may be at comparing him to the captain lately, he won’t take his anger out on blameless people.
*
When Luka won World’s Best Playmaker trophy, at the awards ceremony there was no Sergio pecking him in the cheek, no ridiculous congratulating post on social media. There were different things, photos of Sergio with other men, shot in too affectionate poses. A hug a bit too close to be called friendly. A kiss that could be blamed on too much drank alcohol, but Luka knew better.
He could play a game too. Whenever Sergio uploaded a new photo like that, Luka answered with pictures of him and Vanja with children or a transmission of watching his old club game, cheering them on, with a can of beer in hand.
*
Audi event was a catastrophe. The photographer had the vibes that screamed not-hetero at miles and Sergio was instantly drawn in. Luka, from behind other teammates backs, saw how Sergio leaned over camera countless time to discuss yet another photo like he had any recall in it. Luka didn't miss the way Sergio nearly hung on photographer's shoulder in order to do that, his body not exactly touching but close enough surely the other felt his body heat. A written invitation couldn't be clearer. Luka lasted the absolute minimum, clenching his fists at his sides to not to throttle Sergio, and made a hasty retreat the moment the shooting ended.
*
“Hey, you were missing out yesterday,” Marcelo greeted him the day after.
Each of them was about to receive a new car today and Luka had picked out a big family model but looking at Sergio, relaxed and beaming, dissuaded any enthusiasm he might felt. He studied Sergio’s dreamy expression darkly and wondered if the photographer spent the night at his teammate’s house.
“Hey, Lukita, are you there?” Marcelo waved a hand in front of his face.
“Oh, yes, I, um, wanted to spend some time with the family.”
“I thought you were so hasty to watch Dinamo match.”
“Yes, that too.”
Marcelo looked at him suspiciously, glanced over at Sergio. Luka didn’t like it.
“Everything’s okay between you and cap?”
“Why would something be wrong?”
“I don’t know, you’re in a sour mood a lot lately.”
“How is my bad mood related to Sergio?!”
“You tell me.”
Luka hated where it was heading, how Marcelo looked at him as if he was so obvious. They weren’t obvious with Sergio at all. Even when things were good between them, more than good, they kept it hidden from public knowledge. Or so Luka had hoped. Marcelo’s gaze made him question their conspiracy skills.
The call to line up for a group photo rescued Luka from going further into the uncomfortable conversation. Sergio stood in the middle of the team and didn’t beckoned Luka there. Luka took a place on the very side of the group, ignoring Marcelo’s doubtful mien.
*
Perhaps Sergio never really cared because their relationship meant something only to Luka. Perhaps he imagined there was more to it than just sex. He begun to see it as actual relationship when in truth they were apparently only friends with benefits.
Maybe it was enough for Sergio but not for Luka. Not that he wished for a sweet, tender romance between them but for some basic honesty and no cheating... at least not at every corner of the locker room.
But it seemed he was just one of these fuck-buddies to Sergio as well, someone to toy with and then discard when the fun was over.
He wanted to hate the other man and he did a bit, but mostly he just missed him. Missed his touches, missed his caresses, missed Sergio simply being there at his side, joking with him.
*
Surprisingly it was Sergio who offered a conciliatory hand first. Though Luka didn’t realize it was a conciliatory hand at that time, when Sergio picked up on him after one training.
“What a family guy you’ve become, an upstanding man, a shining example to us all. San Luka,” Sergio said, phone in hand.
“What the fuck?” Luka bristled, not believing Sergio was starting a fight when he should come to Luka beginning for forgiveness, preferably on his knees, preferably coupled with a blowjob as an apology treat.
“Don’t you think I know that family photo was a sham?” Sergio gestured vaguely on the phone screen, where he browsed Luka’s Instagram. “Or that relation from watching a match when you almost snubbed Audi photting?”
“First of, fuck off from my family. Second, I was watching that match, as I always watch their matches, because it’s my former club.”
Sergio looked like he wanted to say something, but Luka didn’t let him, speaking over him.
“Last but not least, you have no right to deny me a harmless pleasure of watching a match and drinking a beer, when you fuck with other man at the same time!”
He was yelling toward the end of the sentence. Sergio stared at him with, a smirk begun to creep on his face.
“Wow, you really are jealous, aren’t you? And who’s the possessive bastard now, huh? I wonder,” a smirk turned into a grin, “you even watched that match? Were you able to focus on the screen or imagined me naked and moaning instead?”
Luka took a swing at him, but Sergio grabbed his wrist and pushed him at the tunnel wall. Next moment he was kissing him and Luka nearly responded before he remembered he was still mad at the other man. He clenched his teeth on Sergio’s lower lip.
Sergio withdrew with a muffled curse, before Luka managed to draw blood. Couldn’t have bite-marks in so visible places.
Luka glared at him as Sergio still had him pinned to the wall, not showing any inclination of letting go. Luka brought his knee up, right into Sergio’s crotch. The grip relented at once.
“You fuckin-” Sergio wheezed, doubling over. “I was trying to make things up.”
“You have some curious idea of how it is done.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That you’re sorry?”
They measured each other for a while.
“Only you’re not,” Luka said flatly.
He stood against the wall, watching Sergio still taking deeper breathes.
“You're terrible as a friend, you're hideous as a partner,” Luka proclaimed. “Why do I even like you?”
“Because you can’t live without me.”
Sergio flashed him a dazzling smile. Luka felt his resolve weakening and he couldn’t have that.
“You think I’m that easy?” Luka asked, trying to sound stern. “You make pretty eyes at me and think that’s gonna solve everything? I’m not one of your fangirls, try harder.”
“So what else do you want me to do?”
“Don’t fuck Regui.”
“What?” Sergio sounded genuinely shocked. “I don’t! He’s a kid.”
“Okay, so don’t fuck any other from the team.”
“All right, no one beside you from the club.”
That wasn’t exactly what Luka meant but he supposed NT gatherings couldn’t hurt that much when he was busy with his own team, catching up with lives of his long not seen friends.
“So we’re all right, yes? You’re happy as I keep my hands off other guys from Real and I can do what I want on NT gatherings and parties.”
“Wait, I didn’t agree to that last one-”
“Only if you’re not there.”
“Fine. Just try not to shove their pictures up my face every ‘Hola!’ site. Keep it PG when in public.”
“When have I ever-”
“Oooh, you have. What about,” Luka took out his phone from his pocket, searching briefly for the name tagged to one of the more condemning pictures, “Manuel Carrasco or-”
Sergio stifled the rest of his words with a hand over Luka’s mouth.
“Okay, okay, I get it. Now put off this phone. And this jacket, and this shirt,” Sergio was already tugging at said clothes, even though they were in a semi-public place.
“You’re still the biggest dick I know,” Luka mumbled between Sergio’s insistent kisses, “and I should hate you. I’m still mad at you.”
“I know, Lukita, come here, later you can keep ranting on me, but now let’s just have sex.”
*
At the training before el Clasico match they were both back in genuinely good moods, grinning at each other like idiots, to the satisfaction of the entire team.
At a group photo Sergio pulled him close, snaked his hand lower and in the moment of camera flashing pinched his nipple. Luka gasped and elbowed him in retaliation.
Perhaps Marcelo was right. Maybe they were obvious, and not just to the team but to the whole world, but in this moment Luka didn’t care, basking in happiness.