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“Sergio.” Iker sounds slightly exasperated. Sergio ignores him. “What are you doing?”
Sergio keeps on ignoring him. There can be no distractions: he’s on a mission.
“Sergio.” Iker won’t let up. Sergio still determinedly keeps on ignoring him. “Sergio.”
Damn it, that’s the Captain Voice. “Hmm?” Sergio turns around and adopts an innocent expression. “Was there something you needed?”
Iker’s glaring, but it’s only a mild glare, a ‘Sergio, why do you persist in being a pest’ kind of glare and not a ‘Sergio, stop abandoning your defensive position or I will tie you to the goal post’ kind of glare, so the defender isn’t too concerned. “I said: What are you doing?”
Sergio shrugs, carefully nonchalant, and studies his fingernails. “I’m just standing here.”
Iker raises his left eyebrow. “Really.”
It’s not the Eyebrow of Doom yet, so Sergio grins. “Yup!”
The keeper’s eyes travel upwards and focus on the mistletoe hanging in the doorway Sergio is leaning against. “‘Just standing there’.” Iker repeats. He doesn’t sound convinced.
“Uh-huh.” Sergio insists and throws his friend one of his most charming smiles. “Just standing here, you know. It’s a good place to stand.”
Iker’s eyes narrow. “Sergio, have you been ambushing people under this mistletoe just so you could get them to kiss you?”
The defender straightens, full of righteous indignation. “Of course not! How dare you assume such horrible things about me?!”
Iker’s left eyebrow rises again. Then the right eyebrow does too. Shit. Sergio immediately deflates. Stupid Iker with his stupid Captain Powers. “Okay, maybe. A little bit. But they all liked it! Right, Nando?”
Sergio points at the striker, sitting over there on the couch, listening to Iniesta and Puyol talk about things that are probably important (read: boring) . Nando looks up when he hears his name, sees Sergio, and instantly blushes crimson. Aww, so cute. Sergio beams at him happily. Nando liked their kiss, oh yeah he did. Sergio knows he did… “See? Nando enjoyed it!”
Nando blushes harder and sinks lower into the couch. Sergio beams wider and throws him a roguish wink. If the guy wasn’t so in love with his girlfriend, Sergio would so tap that! He turns to Iker while he points at Nando for emphasis. “See?”
Iker doesn’t seem impressed. “Are you drunk?”
“No.” Sergio scowls. “I had like one beer, Mom. I just... “ His eyes flick to the side. “Just wanted to have a bit of fun!”
Iker has good eyes and quick reflexes, he caught the side-eye. He looks over into that direction and sees who Sergio has been looking at before the Sevillan can stop him. “‘Just a bit of fun’.” He repeats, sounding thoughtful. Ah hell.
Sergio scowls harder. Fuck. And now Iker’s taking a step closer, but not so he can get under the mistletoe with Sergio, oh no. He steps closer so he can lower his voice and only Sergio will hear him: “Would that fun you’re hoping for by any chance involve Gerard Piqué?”
Sergio’s eyes stray back to the Barcelona defender before he can help himself. “Nah.” He says, trying to sound disinterested and like it doesn’t matter at all. “Why would you think that?”
“Sergio.” Iker says, and he sounds so patient and fond and exasperated at the same time that Sergio can’t handle it. “Don’t lie to me, Nene.”
Sergio scowls at his shoes. Fuck. Okay, maybe he is a tiny bit tipsy, because it just seemed like such a good idea earlier. Hide under the mistletoe and… “I just.” He murmurs. “You know. Wanted to…”
Find a way to make Gerard pay attention to him. To make him stop pretending Sergio’s not even there, to look at him just once, without contempt or anger or annoyance, just once. He’d thought that the mistletoe could work, it’d be fun, it’d be something they could laugh about, haha, so funny, us two here, and then Gerard would have to honor that stupid tradition, right? He’d have to… They’d kiss, Sergio would get that kiss, the one he’s been wanting ever since that stupid asshole denied him a beautiful header in the first Clasico against each other. Gerard had smirked afterwards, a dangerous, challenging kind of smirk, a ‘just try me’ kind of smirk, and Sergio knew he wasn’t supposed to, that this was the most stupid idea he ever had, but he went ahead and fell in love anyway like the idiot he is.
Not that Gerard has ever looked back, not in the way Sergio wants. There’s only sneering and arguing and taunting and that’s fun too, sometimes at least, but it’s not what Sergio wants. He wants more. Has wanted more for a long, long time.
It really seemed like a good idea, that thing with the mistletoe. It’s been fun too, he got to kiss Nando (which was so sweet), he got to kiss Pepe Reina (which was fun), he even got to kiss Puyol (which was just so weird and Sergio will never do that again, nope, it was like kissing an uncle or something) and he only hasn’t kissed Iker yet because he hasn’t yet gotten him close enough. But it’s still been fun, so obviously that idea indeed was a great one, even if Gerard hasn’t come anywhere close yet. And now Iker’s gone ahead and ruined things. Made Sergio think. Remember things. Made him sober up, so to speak. And he hates it.
He doesn’t say any of this. Not here, not now. Not in public, not even when it’s Iker who asked. Iker, who’s let Sergio whine and moan about his stupid annoying crush on Gerard with the patience of a saint. Who’s never laughed at Sergio for it like someone else might have, but instead was patient and supportive and didn’t complain once. But now…
It really was a stupid idea, wasn’t it? Pathetic. Stupid. Sergio’s such a fucking idiot...
“Fuck off.” Sergio mutters without any heat. Don’t make me talk about how pathetic I’m being, that’s what he wants to say. Don’t make me admit it.
“Sergio.” Iker sighs and Sergio flinches at the compassion in his best friend’s voice - it sounds like pity, and Sergio doesn’t want pity , he doesn’t need fucking pity , fuck no. But Iker ignores his stiff shoulders and simply wraps him in a hug. “Nene, you little moron.”
Sergio resist the hug, stubbornly refusing comfort (he doesn’t need to be comforted, he’s not a fucking kid), but Iker’s big keeper hands are equally stubborn and pull him in anyway. The insult, weirdly, makes Sergio relax. Iker still loves him, even if Sergio is indeed a moron… Iker is awesome.
Sergio hugs back and… it’s nice. Really nice. Iker is warm and solid and wonderful, and why couldn’t Sergio fall in love with him instead? It would be so good with Iker… But the heart wants what the heart wants or however that stupid saying goes. And Sergio’s moron heart wants the one guy who wouldn’t even touch him with a ten foot pole… yeah, he’s a fucking moron alright. But at least he has Iker, right? Right.
Iker lets him go after a little while, Sergio takes a quick look around to see if anyone noticed his brief… lapse of control. Wouldn’t do if everybody now thought Sergio was some kind of weak, needy crybaby or some shit like that. But the only one who seems to have noticed is Nando and that’s okay, because Nando is a good friend and looks all worried about Sergio - but shit, Gerard Piqué has noticed too, fuck. He’s looking over now. Glaring, actually. Well, that’s just fucking wonderful, isn’t it? Perfect.
Sergio ignores the pang of hurt at seeing that angry look and puts on a brave face instead. He punches Iker’s side (everybody look at how I’m totally not at all emotional) and winks at Nando. See? I’m fine, I promise. Totally fine.
Nando doesn’t seem entirely convinced, and neither is Iker. But he doesn’t say anything else, instead just gives Sergio that special smile. Iker’s private smile, the one that’s only for Sergio. “Hey, Sergio.” He says and smiles. “You know what?”
Sergio cocks an eyebrow. “What?”
Iker’s smile widens and turns just the slightest bit mischievous. He points upwards. “Mistletoe.”
Oh. Ohh! Sergio has to smile too and then he beams as Iker’s big hands carefully cup his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss. Iker is the best.
***
Sergio doesn’t have even the slightest urge to ever go play in England (Spanish football is just so much better and also there’s way too much rain over there), but he listens to Nando talk about Liverpool anyway and also with great attention. Nando is his friend and they don’t get to see each other nearly often enough anymore, so Sergio’s pretty much interested in anything Nando will tell him. And even attempt to repeat the strange Scouse words Nando tries to teach him, just to make him laugh at Sergio’s ‘atrocious’ pronunciation. He’s so immersed in chatting with Nando that he doesn’t notice Gerard Piqué passing by the couch, too distracted to pay attention to his hand gestures - and he accidentally smacks Gerard right in the stomach.
The other stumbles and lets out an annoyed hiss. “Watch it, Ramos!”
Sergio flinches, then glares defensively. “You watch it!”
He didn’t even mean to smack the guy! But Gerard - Piqué - looks so annoyed that Sergio gets annoyed too. What’s he ever done to offend the guy anyway?! Is it just the Real thing? Or is it Sergio himself? What is it?
Piqué straightens. “Now you listen, you little -”
Nando interrupts him, looking worried. “Geri, he didn’t mean to. It was an accident! Leave him alone!”
Sergio wants to kiss Nando for jumping to his defense (that’s why Nando is an awesome friend! He’s blushing at being the center of attention and doesn’t like conflicts, but is still defending Sergio’s honor!) and also wants to slap him because Sergio can fight his own battles, thank you very much. He also wants to slap Piqué , who is now glaring at Sergio and Nando as if they are both the worst thing he’s ever seen…
Sergio also still wants to kiss Piqué. Because Sergio is an idiot.
“Fuck off, Torres!” Piqué says angrily and - okay, yeah, nope. This shit ends now.
“You fuck off!” Sergio says hotly and gets up from the couch to square off with Piqué. “You got a problem with me, fine! But don’t you dare attack him too!”
“Fuck off, Ramos!” Piqué hisses (creative fucker, isn’t he?) and gets right into Sergio’s face. “Maybe he is my problem! Maybe both of you are! Maybe -”
And once again they’re interrupted. This time by Iker. And Iker is very much not happy.
“Sergio, stop that right this instant!” Iker’s voice is like the crack of a whip and his defender, well-trained after such a long time playing together, takes a step back almost before he notices. He jerks himself to a halt once he does notice though, and crosses his arms defensively. He wasn’t the one who started this! But Iker isn’t done.
“Fernando, take him outside to cool off. And you, Gerard -” Sergio, who has started to scowl and open his mouth to complain that he doesn’t need to calm down, thank you very fucking much, snaps his mouth shut again. “You come here, you and me need to talk.”
Oh shit. That’s Iker’s Serious Frown. Ohhh shit. Piqué is in trouuuble… A part of Sergio snickers gleefully at that, because Piqué will get a talking-to now, and he will deserve it too. Should have left Nando alone, now he made Iker mad…
There’s another part of Sergio that wants to defend Gerard and tell Iker to leave him alone. Sergio is, indeed, an idiot.
***
He and Nando go outside to ‘cool off’ - it’s a bit chilly on the patio, but there’s a blanket on one of the couches and when Sergio declares they need to share body heat so they won’t freeze to death, Nando laughs and slaps him but cuddles in close anyway. Nando’s as awesome as Iker is, even if he blushes at being so close. Sergio thinks that’s just so cute, really. He’s also secretly a bit happy that Nando indulges the slight... need for physical contact and affection Sergio’s feeling right now. Just a slight need, of course. Sergio’s not some kind of needy little kid. He just… well. Gerard looked at him like he was dirt earlier and Sergio kinda needs a pick-me-up, and if it’s just sharing a blanket with his friend. It’s not like anyone will see them like this anyway…
He can see the party through the windows of the house. Iker’s earnestly explaining something to Xabi, who looks mildly interested, but seems more concerned with watching Cesc sway drunkenly far too close to the fireplace in a way that does not seem like a good idea in his state. Iniesta seems to have fallen asleep… and Gerard sits on a couch in the corner, beer in hand. He doesn’t look very happy.
Sergio wants to go inside and try to make him smile. But he’d probably get insulted again (and then get angry and insult back), so he doesn’t.
***
It’s a couple hours later and Sergio is tired. And a bit drunk, too, but he’s not feeling particularly mellow with the alcohol in his system, or energetic (Iker calls it ‘overexcited’) like he sometimes gets when he’s drunk. He’s just tired and feeling a bit cranky. Piqué has been moping around in random corners for the last hours. And whenever he’s seen Sergio talk to anyone, he has glared at them like they’re his enemies. Asshole, really. Sergio can talk to whomever he wants!
Nando has gone home already (boring), Pepe Reina is snoring on the couch (lightweight), the party is winding down. Sergio has been roped into helping with the cleanup (Iker made him), so he’s in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher. He’s actually kind of glad to be alone for a little while. He’s tired.
(Just tired, by the way. Not heartbroken. Hell no. Even if it seems like Gerard can never look at him with anything other than contempt or anger. Even if that really, really hurts...)
He’s lost in thoughts (self-pity) and doesn’t notice someone new coming into the kitchen, not until that someone clears his throat. Sergio looks up - and then sighs. “Piqué. What do you want now?”
Piqué shifts a bit. He has his hands behind his back like a student having to face the principal - he seems uncomfortable. “Need any help?”
Sergio almost raises an eyebrow. What? Is this real life? Or did Piqué just seriously offer to help Sergio? “Um, no. Thanks?”
Piqué shifts again. His shoulders have drawn up, he looks really uncomfortable now. He mumbles something, Sergio doesn’t catch it.
“Come again, please?” Look, Iker, I’m being all polite. Aren’t you proud? “Didn’t catch that.”
“I said sorry!” And now Piqué is glaring again. “About Torres. Earlier. That stuff. I didn’t, you know. Mean it.”
Sergio narrows his eyes. Yeah, right. Asshole. “Oh, you didn’t? And that makes it okay then, huh? You saying you’re sorry? What about all the other bullshit? How you glared at everybody who talked to me? What, are people not even allowed to talk to me anymore now? Should I just be all alone like some kind of leper, maybe you would like that, huh?”
“Why do you have to be such a dick!” Piqué hisses. “I was trying to apologize! It’s not my fault if you talk to every damn guy you meet like some kind of attention whore!”
Sergio almost drops a plate, then sets it down very carefully before he straightens to his full height. “ What.”
Piqué hisses in annoyance. “I-”
Sergio crosses his arms, feeling a dull throb of anger that keeps growing and growing… until Sergio’s pissed. Royally pissed. “No, seriously, what . Did you just call me a whore , you fucking asshole?!”
“Fuck you, Ramos!” Piqué says hotly. “You went and kissed a dozen people today!”
“So what?” Sergio snarls, oh, he’s fucking pissed now alright. “Fuck you, Piqué! I can kiss whoever the fuck I want! What’s your problem anyway, huh? Is it because I kiss guys? You fucking homophobe! Or is it because it’s me? Am I not allowed to have any fun, huh? That bastard Sergio Ramos should die alone and unhappy, is that it? You asshole!”
“Fuck you!” Gerard yells again, seemingly livid with rage. He finally pulls his hands from behind his back - just to throw something at Sergio. It catches him right in the face, there’s the sudden sensation of something bristly on his cheek and the smell of green leaves in his nose -
The mistletoe drops to the floor. Sergio stares down at it. What the fuck?
He looks back up at Gerard. “Dude.” He says slowly. All his anger is gone now, replaced by shock - and utter confusion. “Did you just throw a mistletoe in my face?”
Gerard looks mortified. “Um.” Sergio feels a sudden spark of hope, like a little bird, slowly flapping its wings inside his chest. “Sort of.”
The bird’s wings flap harder. “Was that your plan when you walked into the kitchen?” Sergio asks, starting to grin. “To assault me with mistletoe?”
Gerard - starts squirming. A part of Sergio wants to laugh at how uncomfortable he looks, the rest of Sergio wants to start dancing in glee. “No.” He mumbles. “I was gonna hold it up.”
“You were?” Sergio beams at the taller man, feeling his heart beat faster and faster. “Really?”
Gerard glares at him. “Shut up.”
Aww! Sergio beams wider and takes a bold step closer. “You were jealous!” He says, delighted. “You were so jealous of everybody!”
“Fuck off, Ramos.” Gerard mumbles and glares at the ground, but his body sways closer to Sergio. “Don’t let it get to your head.”
“Too late!” Sergio says cheerfully and goes up to his tip toes so he’ll be eye to eye with Gerard. “You jealous moron, what the fuck, seriously? Dude! Why didn’t you just kiss me under the mistletoe earlier?”
“Shut up.” Gerard crosses his arms defensively and seems to try not to lean into Sergio. It’s not working, Sergio notices with no small amount of glee: Gerard is drawn to him… oh, it’s all so obvious now! “‘cause you were kissing Iker and Fernando and all those guys!”
“You shut up!” Sergio says fondly and grabs Geri’s shirt. “I was just kissing them because I couldn’t kiss you, you complete and utter moron.”
Geri starts to protest, but Sergio’s lips on his shut him up fast.
Geri grumbles annoyedly even while he starts kissing back, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like ‘why do I even like you’. It’s the most romantic thing Sergio has ever heard. He smiles happily and lets Geri kiss his breath away.
So yeah, that thing with with the mistletoe? Turns out that it was the best idea Sergio has ever had.