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Sergio loves his brother, he really does, but when on a Sunday morning, the first thing he has to deal with is Andrés' latest conquest stumbling into his kitchen, he loves him a great deal less. He's barely had the first sip of his coffee when the redhead walks in, wearing what's clearly last night's dress.
She's managed to wash her make-up off and tie her hair back, which Sergio gives her props for - he's seen worse.
"Good morning," he says and she blinks, looking surprised to see him.
"Good morning," she replies. "Uh, I was looking for Andrés."
Sergio coughs awkwardly, trying not to look at the door visible in the hallway behind her, where he's about 99% sure his brother is currently spooning his 'best friend' Martín.
"Ah, yes... I'm not sure where he is," Sergio lies. "I'm Sergio by the way, Andrés' brother."
The redhead looks confused but offers him a smile anyway. "My name is Tatiana, he talked about you last night. It's nice to meet you, Sergio."
He nods, looking back down at his coffee, wishing this woman would just take the hint and leave. If your hook-up has left you alone, that's generally not a good sign - even Sergio knows that and Andrés tells him all the time he's bad with women.
"Do you know when Andrés will be back?" Tatiana asks and Sergio shakes his head.
"No, sorry."
She sighs, but instead of leaving like Sergio hopes, Tatiana takes a seat at the kitchen table opposite him.
"I just don't understand," she mumbles. "I thought we had a connection. He seemed so genuine, made me feel so special."
Sergio grimaces and takes a gulp of his coffee. "I'm sure it's not your fault," he tries. "You seem great. Andrés is just... a bit callous sometimes."
Tatiana nods and oh god, Sergio can see tears in her eyes. If she starts crying, Sergio is going to kill Andrés and then himself.
Thankfully - although Sergio doesn't know if this is a good thing or not - the door in the hallway opens and Martín comes stumbling out. He's shirtless, dressed only in boxers and a single burgundy sock that Sergio knows belongs to Andrés, and there are dark love bites on his chest and throat. Martín blearily makes his way to the coffee pot, groaning in what Sergio has learned is a grateful manner, when he finds it full and still hot.
"You're a godsend," Martín mumbles in Sergio's vague direction, walking back towards his room, before stopping suddenly when he notices Tatiana. "You're still here," he says bluntly and Sergio represses an eye-roll.
"Yes," Tatiana says haughtily. "I'm waiting for Andrés."
Martín snorts into his coffee. "Good luck with that. I think he probably expected you to be gone by now."
Tatiana glares at him and Sergio starts to pray to the god he doesn't believe in that he'll be struck down by a lightning bolt within the next thirty seconds.
“Martín, is it? You were at the bar last night, weren’t you?” she asks and Martín smirks and nods. “Well, Martín, I think I’ll just wait and hear what Andrés has to say himself.”
Martín’s smirk widens and he shrugs. “Be my guest.”
He changes direction, wandering back into the kitchen and into the open-plan living area, where he flops onto a sofa. He’s still watching Sergio and Tatiana over his coffee, eyes narrowed and mouth pulled into the smile that Sergio hates because it always means trouble for him.
Trouble arrives less than two minutes later when the door in the hallway opens again and Andrés emerges. He’s wrapped in a silk robe and it’s fairly clear – though Sergio wishes it weren’t – that he’s not wearing anything underneath.
Andrés’ eyes are barely open when he enters through the door on the far side of the living room, making a beeline for Martín and curling up next to him. He leans his head on Martín’s shoulder and steals a sip of coffee, making a contented noise as he does so.
Sergio doesn’t bother to muffle his groan as Tatiana bristles across the table, face flushing a dark red as she stares at Andrés.
Martín clears his throat and nudges Andrés’ head up off his shoulder.
“What?” Andrés mumbles sleepily and Martín’s expression softens.
“Your uh, overnight guest is still here,” he faux-whispers so his voice still carries across to the kitchen.
Andrés sits up, nearly jostling Martín’s coffee, and looks at Tatiana. A smile breaks out across his face. “Tatiana,” he says far too jovially for the situation. “You’re still here.”
“Yes,” she says stiffly. “I am. I was waiting for you to come back.”
Martín sniggers and Andrés swats his knee in admonishment.
“I’m so sorry, my dear,” Andrés says. “I just assumed you’d have gone by now.”
Tatiana pushes her chair back angrily and Sergio winces at the scraping sound. “Oh don’t worry, I’m leaving now. I don’t know what sort of shit you’re into, but I am not interested.”
Andrés frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about?” Tatiana demands, her voice jumping about two octaves in her outrage. “How dare you! I spent the night with you and wake up to you gone, only to find out you were off screwing your boy toy.”
“Hey,” Martín protests lazily. “I’m too old to be his boy toy.”
“Shut up,” Sergio advises and Martín laughs.
“Tatiana, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Andrés starts but she shakes her head.
“No, there’s been no misunderstanding,” she hisses. “Look, I don’t mind guys who are bisexual or whatever your situation is, but I do mind you sleeping with another man right after me.”
“She’s got a point, querido,” Martín murmurs and Andrés frowns.
“I’m straight,” he says slowly which seems to be the last straw for Tatiana.
She flips Andrés off before storming out of the room. Moments later, they hear the front door slam and Sergio sighs.
“Andrés,” he says carefully. “Maybe it’s time you admit that what you have going on with Martín is more than just friendship.”
“I – why?” Andrés sputters and Martín sighs.
“It’s alright, mi amor, you’re tired. Let’s figure this out when you’ve had more sleep, huh?” he gets to his feet, dragging Andrés up with him
The two of them make their way back to Martín’s bedroom, Andrés’ fingers twined in Martín’s.
“You know, maybe Sergio is right,” Sergio hears his brother say right before there’s a burst of incredulous laughter from Martín.
The door shuts and Sergio sighs, taking a deep drink of his coffee. Hopefully his Sunday mornings will be more drama free from now on.