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It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man, in possession of a place in a world-class football club and hearts of the entirety of the female population of an entire country, must be in want of a wife. Or at least, a date.
That’s why when Ferran asked him out on a date with one of Sira’s friends, Pedri couldn’t say no. He wanted to, mind you, because it has become an instinct at this point to say no to any “unappreciated advance”, as his agent likes to call it, but somehow, his knowledge of Sira being a nice person has made him say yes to the proposal, even though he’s never seen the girl. (And also, he can’t for the love of God date the person he actually wants to, so there’s that.) Not that it matters to him anyway. He’s always preferred a stimulating conversation and interesting personality over just a pretty face, and was not really looking forward to this,,, date? A terrible idea he’d say, if it were some months ago, that too on the new year’s eve. He would much rather spend the day in his bed snuggling the pillow or smashing the PS with Gavi since that boy is sure to come over as he can’t visit his own hometown in just two days of vacation. But now, he decides to stop his very unhealthy growing attraction towards his said best friend, and finally see why all the guys make all this fuss about this dating thing.
Which is also how he now finds himself in his bedroom, into his eleventh trial shirt, a very crisp one and absolutely cannot be paired with one of his very comfortable Balenciaga hoodies. He turns towards the mirror, finding Gavi just behind himself.
“Now? How terrible is this?” Pedri whines, totally frustrated and kinda tired after Gavi has made him change ten previous shirts and sweats because apparently “This doesn’t go with your eyes,” or “this is not netflix and chill” and at one point “You’re looking prettier than any girl and they won’t like it”. You can’t really blame Pedri if he commits any crime, at this point– Crime like murdering his annoying best friend and all.
It’s been almost two hours of “don’t even try to put it on” and “last time I wore it, I got three on spot Te Amo’s” and “do you really want other girls to jump you when you’re in the middle of one?”, but Pedri is still not close to choosing something to wear. And not for lack of his own trying. It is Gavi – the self proclaimed fashionista extraordinaire– who himself knows nothing of fashion except his boring cream white sweater or all things Nike. Pedri braced himself for another scathing remark about how this choice wasn’t quite worthy of this date.
“Umm I don’t know, Pedriiii,” groans Gavi, dragging the last vowel of Pedri's nickname, like he always does when he wants the older’s attention but not sure about what. He also scratched his chin like it hid a beard, still non-existent.
“Well is it okay? I’m okay with okay,” Pedri grimaces, turning in the mirror. He’s put on a simple button up long sleeved shirt over a pair of dark gray jeans. The look is obviously very him– the old man in a young body – as his fellow teammates like to tease, but he doesn’t feel half bad, especially with all his tanned muscles covered up. Not everybody enjoys his tanned olive skin and never on a cold winter day.
“Yeah, but is Marta alright with just ‘okay’?” Gavi asks in contemplation, his lips pulled to one side, eyebrows up in that funny manner that is very much Gavi.
“Well she wants to go out with me, among all the Barca very-single-and-dying-to-be-mingle, very beefy and very hot dudes, so it seems she’s quite willing to settle,” Pedri mutters, now totally irritated at his friend’s very unnecessary remarks.
“There is no settling on a Barca player!” Gavi shouts, standing suddenly on Pedri's bed and striking a pose. “We are the cream of the crop, the very handsome boys who brought in the new era and youngest ever to play in a national team. We are literally the apple of women’s eyes, Pedriii. It’s we who would be settling unless it’s some Zendaya!“
“Ah, I see you’ve been paying attention to tiktoks a lot,” Pedri rolls his eyes and smiles despite himself at the antics of Gavi’s stupid self obsession. That guy has watched his own scenes at least five times in the documentary by now. But who is Pedri to say? He himself has watched Gavi’s scenes at least eight times but Gavi doesn’t have to know that. And he only watched and rewatched Gavi's scenes for science, okay? He is going on a date with a girl insteading of spending some Gavi-time on the new year’s eve, and he calls it a progress.
“Well maybe if you had time for fifa and us, I won’t be spending it on Tiktoks…”
“This is my first ever date, Pablito.”
“...on a new year’s eve! I swear, why does Ferran even have to find you a date? And what does he know of girls anyway?” Gavi finishes dramatically.
“Oh and I see you know a lot about girls?” Pedri smirks, unbuttoning his shirt to try on something else.
“Well, I at least know you should never tell a girl to smile more,” Gavi concedes, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and running a hand through his brown curls.
“HE DID NOT!!” Pedri takes a dramatic turn to face Gavi whose lopsided smile confirms the disaster. “Oh my God, even though I’ve never been on a date before, I know that much,” Pedri murmurs, rummaging through his wardrobe for anything he hadn’t already tried on.
“How about this?”
Pedri pulls a jumper over his head. It is heather grey, the softest cashmere he’s ever felt, a Christmas gift from Gavi last year. Gavi had said it looked “elegant and classy” on him at the time, but today he would probably settle with “it probably won’t make her vomit.”
Turning to Gavi, he sees the other boy swallow hard. Pedri rolls his eyes, his frequent expression whenever he is in Gavi’s company. In all honesty, the only person whose opinion mattered to him is, in fact, Gavi. Gavi, who he’d had a stupid unrequited crush on for six months now. Gavi, who is his best friend. His incredibly-straight-and-not-the-least-bit-interested-in-him best friend. Pedri sighed.
This date is a disaster and it hasn’t even begun. Their close teammates have teased him endlessly about never having kissed a girl, much less dated. Not that he cared. Girls were fine, he just liked Gavi better. Not that the other boy noticed. So when Ferran had told others about the date, both Eric and Ansu had patted him on the back, congratulating him on his upcoming experience and telling him they’d be requiring all the sordid details. Gavi, though, had simply looked put out.
A reaction which had caused Pedri to then be annoyed with him for the past two days. What right did Gavi have to be pissed off? It was Pedri who had to watch as the entire world slurped on Gavi’s upcoming romance with the princess, and when the entire dressing room had teased the boy asking for a barbecue with the king. It was also Pedri who had to witness Gavi blushing, BLUSHING, when the King came for his shirt. And now, when Pedri has one date, his first date ever, Gavi is acting weird. And honestly? it serves him right.
“So is that a ‘no’ then?” Pedri repeats, turning around so Gavi could see him in the jumper he’d given him. He thinks he doesn’t look half bad, the material is cosy and more form fitting than most of his clothing. But Gavi seems to be in a mood today.
“Wo...ell…” Gavi stutters after a moment. Pedri sighs. Apparently there weren’t even words to describe how bad he looked.
“Well why’d you give me something you thought I looked horrible in then?” Pedri grumbles, shucking off the shirt. Gavi says nothing so he shakes his head and makes for the other room in his apartment.
“Er, whatcha doing Pedriii?” Gavi follows him, ofcourse, being the pup that he is, as Pedri turns the light on and makes a beeline for the wardrobe there. It’s practically Gavi’s room now, given the amount of time he spends in Pedri’s house. He pulls out a pair of tight distressed jeans from within.
“Well if you think I look shite in my own clothes, it’s only fitting I borrow yours.” Pedri pulls off his own jeans and puts on Gavi’s, buttoning them as angrily as possible. “Damn these are snug, how do you do it?” He turns to look at himself, raising an eyebrow at his reflection. Actually he knows these are not as tight on Gavi as it is on him, but they hugged Gavi’s perfect thighs really well and were totally worth the discomfort. Though Pedri doesn’t think he looks an ounce as attractive as Gavi normally does in them, the results are not half bad.
“And you know what?” Pedri says, turning his head to glare at his friend, “I don’t care what you say, or can’t say apparently. I love the jumper you gave me. I’m wearing it. Even if you tell me I am the height of grandpa aesthetic. Or whatever.” Pulling the jumper from the pile of discarded attempts, Pedri throws it back on. He glances at Gavi in the mirror but is unable to read the boy’s befuddled expression. If the jeans don't go with the jumper, or his eyes, or his name, he is sure to hear it from Gavi’s mouth in about 0.30 seconds.
“You’d better not say a single word. I’m not changing again,” Pedri huffs, turning back to attempt to straighten his hair. It has gotten long, the sides just reaching his ears and at the front, the dark brown waves, untamed on his forehead.
“So…” Gavi starts and Pedri turns to give him his best get-off-my-lawn-you-damn-kids expression. “So you really like her?”
“Uh…” Pedri isn’t sure how to answer that. He didn’t even see the girl.
“I mean, like you want to, you know, date her? Hold hands and stuff?”
Pedri shrugs. “I guess? That’s what they do on dates right?” Honestly he hasn’t given much thought to what the date would entail. He could probably find it within himself to hold her hand, but the thought doesn't exactly excite him.
“Have you ever, you know, held hands? With a girl?”
“Well no, but I’m sure I can figure out the physics of it,” Pedri says, cocking a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Gavi seems strangely concerned and he could not for the life of him figure out why.
“What about...kissing?”
Pedri shakes his head. “I’m not kissing her on the first date.”
“But what if she wants to? Do you know how?” Gavi asks, standing shakily and walking toward him.
Pedri frowns. “What, should I google and do some research on it? Really Pablito, it’s just one evening without you at my arm’s reach. Get over it. Maybe try to be happy for me.”
“But, are you happy? With her?” Gavi stops a foot away from him and Pedri squares his shoulders. He is tired of this, of Gavi trying to sabotage his date and being stupidly unhelpful- all because he would have to spend one evening alone- when all Pedri wants is some kind of support. For their own good. And being happy with a girl he hasn't even met yet? Who thinks like that?
“Well I’d be a lot happier with her than I am with you right now!” Pedri all but shouts, regretting it just a little when Gavi suddenly looks like a kicked puppy, hurt in his big brown eyes.
Sighing, Pedri shakes his head and takes a moment to calm himself. “Look, she’s taking attention away from you, for one evening, I get it. But can’t you just let me have this?”
“Pedrito,” Gavi… begs? Is he that sad?
“What do you want from me, Pablo? To make me miserable? Congratulations, I’ll be sure to assist you in the next game. Alright? You got me. I’m settling. I’m going on a date with her because I can’t go with who I really want to. One score by Gavi.”
“Really?” Gavi says, his face lighting up.
“You know I haven't assisted you yet right?” Pedri sighs. He straightens his shirt and shakes his head, whether at his own reflection or Gavi's he isn’t quite sure. Turning, Pedri finds Gavi right behind him.
“Pablinho, look, for once, someone actually showed some interest in me. I know for you that’s nothing, you gorgeous dimwit, even the princess is crushing on you. But to me, it’s a lot.”
“Dimwit?” Gavi says back, seemingly affronted.
Pedri realises he may have taken things a bit too far by bringing the princess in when he has seen how embarrassed Gavi had looked every time the topic came up in dressing rooms. How worried Gavi had been, knowing this stupid rumour could ruin his career and throw him off the hook. And now that he thinks of it, he has never seen Gavi on a proper date, much less bragging about it. Well, Not that it matters.
“Er, I mean…” Pedri starts.
“I’m gorgeous?” Gavi supplies and Pedri feels his ears getting hot.
“What? No,look, just... what I mean is…”
“You don’t think I’m gorgeous?” Gavi's eyes pierce into him but he doesn't,, look offended. He looks…amused?
“No you are gorgeous, just not my typ…”
“Oh shut up,” Gavi says in frustration, his lips curling into a tiny smirk before they are suddenly upon Pedri’s.
Eyes widening in shock, Pedri lets out a low sound in his throat as his own mouth is covered by the warm heat of the other boy’s stupidly soft lips. Fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of Pedri’s neck, pulling him close, possessive and mirroring the hunger he feels in the claiming kiss. Pedri falters, feeling Gavi pull away. But it’s the last thing in the world he wanted, so he reaches up to cup his cheek, holding Gavi close and hearing him sigh in contentment before deepening the kiss. The warmth of a tongue against his lips, slipping in, has Pedri gasping against Gavi, his fantasy manifested before him as he’d never dared dreamt to be possible. He feels soft and hungry fingers pulling at the back of his jumper, pressing him close, stroking up his spine and Pedri shudders into the touch.
Having absolutely no experience in kissing girls or guys, Pedri wanted to allow Gavi to take the lead, but deep down he knows the other boy is just as lost as he is. So they mirror and memorise each other's movements even as they start melting into their embrace. He had previously, during his weakest moments, thought about countless girls, someday, if not sooner, on the receiving end of Gavi’s kisses, each one drawing his envy and ire. He wanted to be in their place, for once, in Gavi’s arms. He wanted it so much.
And it is suddenly too much, his dream made real, and Pedri pushes away, chest heaving, eyes glazed, needing to see Pablo, his Pablito, to ascertain that this was indeed happening.
Strangely, Gavi looked just as shaken as he felt. Pedri digs his hands into the shoulders of the other boy’s shirt even though he holds him at arm’s length- wanting Gavi close but unsure what exactly has prompted this strange turn of events.
“You kissed me,” Pedri settles upon after a moment, finding his breath as he dares to look up into Gavi’s stunning brown eyes, all blown up.
“Top score,” Gavi grins, that stupid, cocking his head to one side as if assessing Pedri. “Now it’s my turn to state something bloody obvious.”
Pedri bites his lip, gazing at the tiny smirk that Gavi flaunted, making his heart hurt just a bit.
“You don’t want to date Marta. You want me.”
Swallowing hard, Pedri feels his words stick in his throat, probably stuck somewhere between his heart and where Gavi’s tongue has been only moments before.
“That’s rather presumptive,” he finally manages and Gavi lets out a small chuckle.
“Really?” he says, looking from where Pedri’s fists still grasped at him back to his brown eyes. “Well then let me give you something to guess at. Why haven’t I been on a date ever since I joined the first team?”
Pedri furrows his brows but says nothing, allowing his friend to continue as he ponders upon this new information.
“Why haven’t I looked at a girl, thought of a girl? Why am I up here, watching you dress- and undress I might add - instead of having a nice time with a date on the new year’s eve?”
Pedri holds his breath, the shock overwhelming him. Yes, Gavi has obviously just kissed him, but what on earth the other boy was inferring? That he hadn’t wanted a girl in months, and had instead been thirsting after him? Has he fallen asleep and all of these are inside his head?
“Are you, umm, still puzzling it out or just at a loss for words?” Gavi asks, raising a finger to pull at Pedri’s ears, their thing, before taking his chin in between his forefinger and thumb, pulling him in close. When Pedri closes his eyes, Gavi seems to take it as an invitation. The kiss is soft, welcoming, making Pedri feel absolutely needed and adored. When it is over Gavi looks at him with a smile, mischief in his eyes along with something more, something Pedri had never thought he’d see directed at him.
“Well?” Gavi asks after a moment that was both too long and too short as they stare into one another’s eyes.
“I...I forgot the question,” Pedri murmurs and Gavi lets out a clipped laugh.
“Fine, I’ll make this easy. Are you going on a date with that bird or will you stay here and snog me into next year?”
Pedri grabbed Gavi for another kiss, his answer not forthcoming in any other form as his tongue seemed to simply have one purpose and that was to kiss Gavi until he got tired of it. He knows that wouldn’t be any time soon.
“Oh! good,” Gavi whispers between the kisses, his breath warm against Pedri’s lips, as he pulls away smiling. “Cause I told Ferran and Sira to give Marta your condolences.”
“What?!” Pedri exclaims, laughing at the other boy’s confidence. “How did you...I mean I could have said no!”
“You could have,” Gavi shrugs, running his thumb along the side of Pedri's face, “but I’d hoped you’d settle on me instead.”
Pedri chuckles and shakes his head, pulling Gavi in until their foreheads touch. “There’s no settling on a Barca player. A very gorgeously hot and dimwitted Barca player.”
(Oh by the way, no Marta was hurt in making up the story. Ferran was just frustrated to see the kids pining for each other and thought Marta was the way. He was right.)