Chapter Text
"We’re planning quite the twist to my next fight, you see!" Don mentioned, leaning back in his seat and giving the other a smile. The coffee in his hand rested easily in the cup, before he took a sip from it.
It wasn't often Don and Joe got to sit down at the café together, but when they did, it was always a time full of chatter. The two of them had finally been able to catch up again, locating themselves at a table in Paris. With schedules filled to the brim, Don could only take a visit to his boyfriend when he either had other errands in France, or if he was able to score himself a vacation. Next time, it appeared it was Joe’s time to visit him in Madrid - a visit that would line up perfectly with the event Don was talking about.
"Really?" Joe didn’t turn his gaze up from the cup of tea he was stirring, though his smile and tone showed he was more than interested. "Does the WVBA let you put your own spin on it?"
"No boxing this time!" Don shook his head. "It's the corrida de toros! I’d be more than happy to give you good seat if you’re interested?”
With that, the clink of the spoon against the cup stopped, and Joe turned his head up. “The bullfighting?”
Don nodded in response. “Of course!”
“...I don’t think I’ve ever been to one before.” Joe laughed stiffly. “You do tell quite the stories from it, though. Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Hmm, it depends.” The other admitted. “It’s dangerous for the bull at least, we’ll be killing it on stage. But I’ve yet to injure myself during my time in the spotlight!”
“The keyword is yet.”
With a laugh in response, Don took a sip of his coffee. “Maybe, hm?”
Joe let the silence linger in the air for a moment or two, before he removed his hand completely from the cup. “...I'd love to watch you! I just don’t know how I feel about it, though. It’s like- I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Leaning back in his seat, Don took another sip of the coffee. “Says you.”
It took a moment for Joe to register the comeback. “...I’m not boxing against wild animals-!”
Don let out another laughter, though notably more stale, looking out window and at the view of Paris. “That’s what you say. Some of those people shouldn’t be considered human enough to be going up against you.” Receiving a raised brow from Joe in response, Don continued after a pause. “I suppose I could turn your words back to you; I’m concerned about you too.”
“...Don’t make this about me!” Joe pointed out, catching the other red-handed. “I’m doing all right, you’re the one who’s- You know- I’m just-” After a moment of silence, a groan followed as Joe pinched the bridge of his nose. “Urgh-!”
“I know what? That you’re adorable when you stutter, hm?”
“What did I just say-!” Joe exclaimed, despising the red that formed his cheeks in response to the random compliment. “You’re the one up against a hundred kilos animal that has and can easily kill people!”
Anyone could hear that he wasn’t mad, no. The Frenchman was simply too concerned over the other sometimes, but how could he not when Don regularly participated in two different bloodsheds? This whole thing was certainly something that strained his side of the relationship - spending late evenings catching up with the news to make sure the bull hadn’t mauled his lover.
Don kept his silence, gaze dropping a tad alongside his furrowed brows when his attempts to derail the topic didn’t work. “I’ve been a torero for longer than I’ve been a boxer. We have our ways to handle the situation if anything goes wrong.” Followed by another pause, Don glanced back up at Joe. “I’m going to fight either way, but if you don’t want to watch me, that’s okay, mi amor.”
The energy by the table had done a complete 180 since they first sat down with chuckles and chatter, and the silence lingered for longer than what felt comfortable for either of them. Don would take another sip of his coffee, while Joe’s gaze was stuck on his own cup.
“...Sorry. If you can get me a seat, I’ll happily come.” He sighed, forcing a smile. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I avoided seeing you in your prime?”
And that brought Joe to now; a few weeks later, standing outside the large arena in the queue. Bullfighting was a sport he didn’t know much about - and only was aware of the dangers involved. But like expected, Don wasn’t planning on quitting anytime soon. That’s where most of his fame came from, after all. Matadors were practically celebrities, and alongside his boxing career, Don Flamenco was a familiar name to the people in Spain.
Joe wasn’t certain if Don was a fan of the constant spotlight or not. He was well aware that the other was looking for a partner that didn’t bring their own share of fame, and with all his previous dates being no-bodies disguised under the alias of a Carmen, no gossip magazines knew he was dating the boxer with almost 100 losses. That was something Joe more than accepted and allowed; not only so he could avoid everyone’s eyes staring at him, but also to spare Don’s pride.
And Joe wanted to keep supporting the other - whether it was Don’s comfort with his fans, or if it was his dangerous job and hobbies. In the end, Joe could only pray that he didn’t have to see his lover get gored in front of thousands of people.