Chapter Text
Cristiano's not really paying attention to what Sergio's saying.
The whole team is out to celebrate their latest win, and Sergio's going on and on about how great the restaurant is. Mostly everyone has been seated, but for some reason it's taking a little extra time to get the last table ready. While they're waiting, Cristiano scrolls though his latest emails and tunes all of it out until he hears his name. "What?" he says, nudging Iker out of the way so he can see Sergio. "What about me?"
Sergio laughs. "I said he's just your type." At Cristiano's blank look, he rolls his eyes. "Weren't you listening to anything I said?" Behind Sergio, Iker is closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead in irritation.
Cristiano shrugs and sticks his phone in his pocket. "Assume I wasn't," he says dryly, ignoring the way Fábio has turned away and is sniggering into Marcelo's shoulder.
Sergio sighs. "I said that I come here all the time because the food is amazingly good, like out of this world good, but the waiters are an added bonus." When Cristiano arches an eyebrow, Sergio smirks. "Great eye candy."
Cristiano twirls his hand in the air, waiting for Sergio to get to the point. "And what does that have to do with me?" he asks, crossing his arms. "I like eye candy? Who doesn't like eye candy?"
"Oh," Sergio says, straightening. "The host said our waiter is going to be Leo tonight. I've had him before. He's totally cute." He looks pointedly at Cristiano. "And like I said before, definitely your type."
Now it's Cristiano's turn to smirk. "So you're saying I might get lucky tonight?" He ignores Iker throwing his hands up in disgust and instead runs a hand through his hair. "Excellent."
Sergio's eyes widen. "No, no, no," he hisses, looking around furtively. "He's like everyone's little brother here and they're all super protective of him." He looks back at Cristiano and points threateningly. "You can hit on anybody except him. I know you. You'll take him home, screw him, and never call him again... Then I won't be able to come here anymore."
"So what you're saying," Gareth says from where he's been lurking behind Cristiano, "is we can look, but don't touch?" His words are hesitant as he spits them out in heavily accented Spanish, but he looks rather proud of himself for getting the saying correct.
Sergio nods approvingly. "Exactly. Eye candy only." He slings an arm around Iker as the host returns and beckons for them to follow. "Besides," Sergio murmurs over his shoulder, "he's way too sweet for you. You'll ruin him."
Cristiano thinks he should be offended by such a statement, but it's probably true so he holds his tongue and continues into the room. The group follows the host to their table, passing their teammates, and it's all Cristiano can do to hold back his appreciative murmurs once he sees the waiters. They're all dressed in tight black tshirts and black dress pants, with black aprons tied around trim waists. A few of them wink at Sergio as they pass by, though there's one young man who looks rather disgruntled.
Once all of them are seated, Fábio leans around Cristiano. "I thought you said look but don't touch," he says to Sergio. "I have a feeling you haven't been following your own rules," he says laughing as Sergio reddens. The others join in and Iker shakes his head disapprovingly.
"Okay," Sergio bites out. "So I may have been a little, unwise, when I first started coming here. It was just him, though," he says, opening up his menu. "I mean, *look* at him," he says, turning to peek back over his shoulder.
They all follow his gaze back to the waiter. The man in question gives Sergio a glare before turning his back and focusing on the table he was assigned.
Iker pats Sergio on the back. "Yeah... I don't know how anyone could resist that smiling face. But you didn't sleep with our waiter, right? Because I don't want anyone messing with our food."
Sergio looks affronted. "I said it was just him," he hisses. "And everyone shut up because here Leo comes." He pulls away from Iker and goes back to looking at his menu. "And don't embarrass me! He thinks I'm cool."
"Right," Marcelo drawls, exchanging a look with Cristiano. And Cristiano wants to laugh, because honestly if anyone is going to be causing a scene here, it's Sergio, and they all know it, but his amusement dies away as the waiter arrives at the table.
Cristiano can immediately see why Sergio warned him off Leo. He's short, with silky dark hair spilling over friendly-looking dark eyes. His black tshirt is tight across his chest, drawing attention to his slim figure and a gorgeously tattooed arm, while the pants are stretched teasingly across a surprisingly plump ass.
Cristiano licks his lips.
Fábio nudges him under the table. "Look, but don't touch," he mouths quickly.
"Hello everyone, I'm Leo and I'll be taking care of you tonight," Leo says, introducing himself and smiling as he looks around at everyone at the table.
Cristiano waits for the moment of realization, the stuttering and shock that usually accompanies the 'oh my god' and 'can I get your autograph' that all of them get when they eat out together. But it never comes. In fact Leo disappointingly skims right over Cristiano's face as he glances at each of them individually, and doesn't seem thrown until he gets to Sergio's.
"Oh! Sergio! I didn't realize you were here tonight." Leo's smile grows brighter, showing off brilliant white teeth. He leans in closer to whisper conspiringly. "Should I see if I can switch tables with Pipita?"
Sergio coughs awkwardly as Iker laughs. "Maybe not the best idea," he says sadly, glancing behind him. "But, uh, thank you, Leo." He ignores the smirks he's getting from Marcelo and Fábio.
Leo nods smiling. "Well, alright then," he says cheerfully, turning back to the rest of them. "I heard you're celebrating some sort of victory, so if you've decided on drinks, I can take that order now. Otherwise I can come back in a few minutes."
Iker orders a beer, looking at Leo curiously. "Did you not watch the game?" he asks, genuinely surprised. The others wait for the answer curiously, it not having occurred to them that someone could have missed it. It's slowly dawning on them that Leo has no idea who they are.
Leo laughs softly. "I'm afraid I don't follow much football. I knew Sergio played, because he's mentioned it before, but I didn't realize it was for such a big team," he says, scribbling down Iker's order and turning to take Sergio's, Marcelo's, and then Fábio's. Iker looks perplexed, either at the thought of someone not knowing Sergio plays for Real Madrid or the not following football in general, but eventually looks back down at his menu.
Cristiano follows Leo with his eyes as the smaller man rounds the table and waits patiently for Gareth to decide on a glass of wine. Gareth twitches through his order, asking a few questions about reds and whites, and Leo kindly recommends a few vintages. The kind smile never disappears from his face.
Cristiano can't look away from him.
It's not just because Leo cuts an extremely attractive figure... Because yes, Cristiano definitely wants to reach out and palm that ass, wants to feel for himself how cushy those cheeks are, wants to hear the breathy sounds Leo makes in response... But that's not why he's staring. No... There's something about Leo that seems extremely familiar to Cristiano. He just can't figure out what it is.
But he will.
When Leo reaches him, Cristiano orders a drink and gives the waiter his best sultry smile. "Have we met before?" he asks, tilting his head back to look at at Leo appreciatively, taking in the clearly muscled chest and studying the intricate tattoo now that Leo's a little closer. "I can't place you, but you seem familiar." He stares at Leo, giving him his best smile--the one that causes most people to drop to their knees immediately. "Very familiar."
Cristiano can practically feel Iker face palming, but he ignores him.
Leo's eyes dart away from Cristiano's, pen moving over his notepad. "I don't think so," he says, laughter coloring his voice and seeming genuinely amused by Cristiano's comments. He looks back up, and meets Cristiano's eyes. "I'd *definitely* remember meeting you." A soft blush spreads across his cheeks as if he's embarrassed by his own boldness and he ducks his head. "I'll go put this order in and be back in a few minutes."
Cristiano watches intently as Leo strides away to the bar.
"Interesting tactic," Fábio says, breaking the silence. When Cristiano turns to look at him, he raises an eyebrow. "Pretending you've met before, I mean." He takes a sip of his water before turning his attention back to his menu. "Not sure that's what I would have gone with, but, I mean, if you can't fall back on 'I'm Cristiano Ronaldo and I'm the best football player in the world,' I guess it could work."
Sergio sighs. "What did I just tell you, Cris? Please. Leave him alone. You could have anybody." He pouts and looks imploringly at Iker. "Tell him!"
Iker shrugs. "What do I care if he picks him up?" But then he narrows his eyes and looks at Cristiano. "So long as it's after I get my food. No quickies between courses," he says as Sergio splutters next to him.
Marcelo and Gareth laugh, but Cristiano shakes his head. "Fuck you guys. I'm serious. I know him from somewhere." He looks back over to where Leo's talking to the bartender. "I just really can't figure out where. Shit, it's going to bother me all night."
Fábio looks over at Leo too. "Is it the tattoo? Because otherwise he really just looks like the guys you usually go for." Cristiano stares at him blankly, but Fábio is undeterred. "Cute as opposed to hot, short, dark hair, soft spoken..." He trails off and shrugs. "Well it's true. You do have a type. Granted, they're usually football fans, but they all look about the same."
"Hmmm." Cristiano sits back in his chair and scratches his jaw. "Okay, so I have a type," he says, ignoring the 'you do' muttered by Marcelo and Iker simultaneously. "But that not it," he protests. "I know him."
"You *want* to know him," Fábio says laughing, closing his menu. He looks back over towards the bar. "Can't blame you," he says appreciatively, watching as Leo bends over to pick up a napkin that's fallen to the floor. "Great ass. I'd hit it."
The words are barely out of Fábio's mouth when another waiter walks by. This one's larger than Leo, short with a mohawk and dark eyes, but barrel chested with strong looking arms. He narrows his eyes at them and tightens his fingers on the tray he's carrying, obviously overhearing, but then continues on his way.
Sergio cringes. "I told you they were protective of him." He drops his head into his hands. "Can everyone please stop! I'm really never going to be able to come here again. Oh god the food is so good, I can't give it up, I can't." He continues to mumble, but the words are mostly indiscernible.
Iker pats him on the back. "Alright, alright, guys," he says to the rest of the table. "Everyone figure out what they want to order so that when he comes back we can tell him."
Cristiano frowns, still trying to remember how he knows Leo, but turns his attention back to his menu. It's not long before their waiter returns, this time with the tray of drinks.
As Leo carefully places each drink on the table, Cristiano fingers the menu. "So you said you don't really follow football," he says, as Leo places his soda down. When Leo smiles apologetically and shakes his head slightly, Cristiano can't help asking, "So you've never come to one of our games?"
Leo tucks the empty tray under his arm, straightens up, and dries his hands on his apron. "I don't really have the time," he says, pulling out his notepad and pen. "I'm more of a Barcelona fan, anyways," he says, winking as Cristiano frowns.
"Leo?!" Sergio says. "You aren't really?" he asks, looking horrified. Iker chokes on his beer while Marcelo, Gareth, and Fábio all make faces. "Please, please, please, tell me you're kidding." He clutches at his menu in dismay while Iker fumbles for a napkin.
Leo laughs. "Okay, not really," he says to everyone's relief. "I grew up there, but I don't know anything about the team. Somebody in the kitchen told me to say that to you guys." He laughs again, dimples appearing out of nowhere, as they all relax back into their seats, and eventually he begins to make his way around the table to take orders.
Cristiano finds himself smiling without meaning to. "So it wasn't at a game," he says, thinking out loud. When Leo reaches him, Cristiano orders his dinner. As Leo reaches out to take his menu, Cristiano tightens his hand. "Come on," he says, watching Leo's eyes darken. He looks again at Leo's face, taking in the curve of his jaw, the pink lips, the faint lines across his forehead. "There must be somewhere, that you can think of, where maybe I've seen you." He releases the menu and Leo adds it to the stack he's holding.
Leo opens his mouth and then closes it, taking a deep breath before ducking his head. "Maybe," he says, tilting his head to the side. "I--I shouldn't say this, but at night I tend bar at the club down the street," he finally says. "Do you think, maybe that's where you've seen me?" It's his turn to study Cristiano. "I want to say there's something familiar about you too, but..." He shrugs helplessly, not knowing what else to say.
Cristiano imagines Leo in a tight tank top, hair sticking to his forehead and pale skin glowing under spotlights in a dark club, pushing a drink across the bar. Cristiano would probably prowl around the dance floor for awhile, always watching Leo, eventually returning and slipping a napkin with his number into Leo's tight pants--or maybe, pinning him against the door in the men's room... Cristiano licks his lips, but sighs, disappointed. "No," he says, propping up his chin on his hand. "I've never been there."
Leo gives him half a smile and turns to leave, but Sergio stops him. "I thought," he says, looking uncertainly at Leo, "I thought you worked here at night." He looks over at Iker who's shaking his head and rubbing his forehead. "You're always here when I come for dinner."
Leo smiles gently at Sergio. "No, you're right," he says softly, hoisting the stack of menus onto his hip. "But I work my shift here, and then when the restaurant closes, most nights, I go work at the club." He looks down for a moment at the menus and then musters another smile. "Madrid is an expensive city to live in," he says, before gesturing towards the kitchen and walking off to put their order in.
Cristiano frowns, because he wasn't always wealthy, and he knows he's not the only one at the table who remembers being poor. In the end, it's Marcelo who shakes his head. "Sergio," he starts to say, but Sergio holds up a hand.
"I know, okay," Sergio says, leaning his head onto Iker's shoulder. "I'm sorry." He scrunches his face up. "I forget sometimes, that not everybody makes as much as we do." Iker combs his fingers through Sergio's hair comfortingly.
The conversation drifts after that, and when Leo brings their meals with a smile, it appears all is forgotten.
They all dig into their food eagerly, Sergio moaning repeatedly and telling them, "I told you so," over and over. "Now you see why I want to be able to come back here," he says, licking some sauce off his fork. He accidentally smears some of it on his cheek in his haste, yanking his head away when Iker tries to clean it off.
Cristiano rolls his eyes, but even he can agree that the food is excellent.
Leo checks in on them periodically, refilling drinks, and fetching a few new napkins when Sergio decides he needs to confiscate Gareth's in order to make some sort of napkin art. Cristiano amuses himself by smiling seductively at Leo every time he can. He also makes eye contact while slowly sucking his fingers clean when Leo asks how his dinner is. Leo's cheeks are permanently pink, but there's still a smile playing about his lips, and he's obviously flattered by Cristiano's attentions.
It's not until dessert is mentioned that the table really manages to make Leo uncomfortable again.