Work Text:
The weather in Barcelona clearly wasn't one of the best in this world, but it wasn't the worst. 24ºC, not too cold, not too hot. On point. That wasn't even worrying anyone. Indeed, it was just something for Marc to distract his mind.
He didn't quite want to think too much about how he still needed to choose what to do for the rest of his life, or how would he hit just the right point and choose the perfect career for him. Or how he still hadn't found anything which pinned him there.
Nor anyone.
Still.
"Guys, this is our new student. I think you all know him, right?" the Chemistry teacher smiled widely at the school's 10. Of course, Marc didn't quite like sports, but everyone knew him. Rafinha Alcantara, the Brazilian stunner. All boys wanted to be him, some girls wanted him. Marc also didn't know what to think of him just yet. "So, please sit with Marc, yes? He's your new partner."
"Hi, I'm Rafinha!"
"Ah, yes, I know. I'm Marc, nice to meet you." usually, he'd tell himself not to stare much long at boys. Something else for his 'still not' list: he still wasn't much comfortable with that. Men: liking them, wanting them. Desiring a few. Especially at his school. So he just shook his hand and got back to work.
"Are you always like that?"
"What do you mean?"
"So quiet..." he laughed, making everyone stare at them. He didn't mind, he was used to it— but seeing he actually took a smile from his lips, those contained, thin lips. Oh, that would definitely motivate him to do it a few more times. "Sorry, guys, my bad. Get back to your work, you're doing great!"
"Are you always like that?" Marc laughed, still entertained with the glucose molecules they had to glue for that work. Rafinha realised how tiny his eyes were, and how the crinkles by it when he smiled just made him look, somehow, better. And how beautiful his smile was.
"What do you mean?"
"So confident..."
"Well, not always like this. That's me trying to impress other people."
"Are you trying to impress me?"
"I don't know. Is it working?" Rafinha said, spinning on his chair and eventually biting his lips. Just a few inches away from Marc.
Marc had probably never thanked God so much for being surrounded by people. Indeed, that was the very first time. If Rafinha had made him feel like that in such a short time, imagine what he'd do if they spent a day together.
What the hell was he thinking?
"Guys! If you don't finish this work here, you will have to take it home, ok?"
Rafinha looked around, listening to all the complains at the teacher's warning. He looked back at Marc, who was carefully paying attention to Mr. Iniesta. He just couldn't take that silly smile off, not if he kept staring at those ocean blue eyes.
"Ah, great."
"So, judging by the others, I think you're pretty much late, aren't you?"
"I was alone to do it, that's why you've been put with me."
"Oh... well, but now, you've got me and I will help you." he got the base of the project and started looking it around. "If I had any idea of what we need to do, of course."
"Ah, first, you..." that was when he truly looked at Rafinha, for the first time. His skin had such a beautiful, natural colour. His hair, so dark and wildly coming out of his cap. His smirk, basically translating he didn't know what to do— he just wanted to do something, but Marc didn't know what was it yet. Or wasn't sure. "You don't want to know, do you?"
"I did," Rafinha put the glucose project on the table, getting his chair closer to Marc's. "but it's on the blackboard."
"So you were gonna make me explain it in vain?"
"No, it's not in vain. I liked your voice." he blinked at him, at the exact moment the bell rang, announcing that class was over. And so was their time to finish that work. "If you like this way best, we can finish it at my place. My brother is in Germany, so he won't mind."
"Germany?"
"I'm pretty sure he already found someone in Munich." he stood by the door, still not breaking the eye contact with Marc. "He wanted me to come with him, but you know, I like Barcelona best. I don't know... the weather, the place, the people. So, next Friday?"
"Next Friday is good."
"See you around, Marc."
For the first time in ages, Marc's mum was relieved. Relieved because he had found another friend and, although she adored Rakitic, no one is an isle to live so isolated. And she was hopeful that Rafinha would bring him more people to be around.
"Mum, I'm not really looking for thousand of friends, you know?"
"Honey, I know it's hard for shy people to connect with others, but you can't live alone!"
"I'm not alone, I've got friends!"
"Fine. Ivan and this new buddy, Rafinha. Two friends, how amazing!"
"You two, Ivan is here, don't forget it." he said, still too amazed by some video. "Continue your drama."
"It's not like I'm friends with Rafinha, mum."
"Really? Then what are you two?"
He didn't reply. He was afraid to.
How would he explain to his mum that he wouldn't make any move because he wasn't sure Rafinha 'had the same interests as him', as he told Ivan. And, yes, Ivan was his best friend, so it was no surprise he knew everything.
So instead of facing it, he ran upstairs. And almost smashed his door at Rakitic.
"I'm not even gonna say anything because I get why you're mad. But, mate, just say it. Out loud, say it!"
"Ivan..."
"She's your mum, for fuck's sake. There's no one else in this world who loves you like she does, don't you think she knows her son?"
"I don't know! It's hard for me, okay? Could you just let me think about what's been going on with me first?"
"You already know what's going on with you, Marc. Just say it. You're gay. You're into Rafinha because you think he's good looking or I don't know what else, and don't be stupid to think he's not into you, as well... he is, that's actually kind of obvious." he tossed his case to his backpack, and closed it. So Marc would have no excuse to come back to his home so soon. "Just go fix this, and then you tell your mum, alright?"
"There's nothing to fix."
"Of course there is: your fucking brilliant mind. You know I love my girlfriend, but everything in life is about acceptance. And, Marc, by the moment you accept who you are, you will cut 80% of your worries off your list. So just live it. Live your life the way it should be lived, alright?"
Friday. Apartment 32. Glucose. No Rafinha. Just carbon, hydrogen, oxygen... what else? What do we even use glucose for?
For Rafinha.
"Hey, Marc!" fine. A little bit wet white t-shirt. Basically gluing to that athletic body. Nothing to salute to, for sure. "Come in."
"So, eh, what do you want do first?"
"Do you know any natural aphrodisiac?"
"Excuse me?"
"I just wanted to check if you did know everything." he smiled, looking around. Of course it wasn't that, even Marc realised it. "But apparently you don't."
"I do, chillies are great..."
That smirk all over again. He didn't want to know about aphrodisiacs, at least not for that very moment. That was his terrible way to initiate a conversation.
He didn't know how to do it, but he was an specialist to interrupt them.
"You don't know people, Marc. You may be the best for Physics, Chemistry and Maths. Or even other subjects that may be way too easy for you... but you don't know people. You can't catch the tiny hints they leave in the air, the hints they want you to realise. I can't tell if you're that out of tune, or just insecure."
"Why are you saying this?"
"Because you answered that. I didn't want you to answer, I just wanted you to look at me. Why do you avoid my gazes so much? Are you afraid of me?"
Well, somewhat he was. The problem wasn't Rafinha, but how he made him feel. The shivers, the cold yet excited feeling that took over him when he saw that dark skin soaking wet. It was those tiny things that almost made him lose his mind. However, he was too afraid for it. Because he didn't live by his impulses nor his wishes.
But thankfully, Rafinha was his opposite.
He gently pressed his lips against his, trying his best not to scare Marc and make him run away so soon. He wouldn't leave, somehow Rafinha knew that. But he was so reluctant, so angry. Marc started buffeting his chest, in a misguided attempt to push him away; but it was weak, almost slow. And definitely in vain.
"Quit it, Marc. You want this as hard as I do."
"Leave me alone."
"Stop pretending you don't feel it, too. Kiss me."
His breath was completely irregular, and he had no idea what to do to control it. For the first time, Marc could look at Rafinha and not to be ashamed of it. For the first time, he was ready to do what he wanted.
The blonde pulled him by his waist, instantly bumping his body against the wall of his living room. The feeling of having his hands on his back, his lips on his, that deliciously citric smell from Rafinha was just driving him insane. He wanted more of that— just as more as possible.
Rafinha gently glued their lips together, finding his way to Marc's hair so easily it felt like they had been doing that for ages now. If felt like their bodies knew each other, and they knew how they'd react to their proximity. Still, it felt like provoking all the sensations they felt back in their first time was the best thing to do every single time their lips screamed for each other.
Marc was ready for everything: more kisses, more passion. His neck was already calling Rafinha, willing for his touch.
But as the specialist he was, he just broke it all at once.
"I don't want you to screw up your grades because of me..." he smiled, pecking his lips once again. A little bit longer than Marc expected. "Let's finish that and then we go back to our making out session."
"Seriously, Rafa?"
"I'm sorry, babe. But I shouldn't be your priority right now!"
That was going to be a quite long day.