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“So,” Thomas starts, racking his brain for a conversation topic that isn’t football. ”School, eh?”
Pablo, because that is his name, stares at Thomas like he’s an idiot. “I don’t go to school.”
“Ah,” Thomas says, feeling very much like an idiot. He doesn’t have any kids of his own, nor does he make a habit of hanging around youngsters. He has no idea how to talk to a person under the age of twenty-five.
Honestly, Thomas isn’t sure what he’s doing here. The couple— yes, that includes the little chihuahua sitting in front of him— had invited him for dinner at their apartment. Yes, their apartment. The place they eat, sleep, and do other things Thomas doesn't want to know.
Driven by morbid curiosity, Thomas had accepted the invitation. Apart from the awkward dinner with the rest of the old Bayern squad a few weeks ago, Thomas doesn't get to see a lot of Robert after the other man moved to Barcelona. He thought that it would be nice to catch up with an old friend.
Contrary to popular belief, Thomas is a sentimental guy. He and Robert have been friends for years and teammates for longer. You can't blame him for missing Lewangoalski.
Lewangoalski, however, seems to be adjusting to his new team very well. A big salary and a new young boyfriend doesn’t sound like a bad deal at all.
Speaking of the new young boyfriend, Thomas can see traces of him all over the apartment. There is the smaller pair of sneakers by the entryway, the cans of Coca-Cola sitting in the fridge, and even the music that notably isn’t Justin Timberlake reverberating from the Bluetooth speakers.
Somehow, someway, Pablo has seamlessly imbued himself into Robert’s life, like he was always meant to be there.
It’s a weird relationship, but they make it work. Thomas had his doubts— he couldn’t believe that the virtuous Robert of all people would date an eighteen year old— but there is no denying that the two are very much in love. Anybody with a pair of eyes can see how obsessed they are with each other.
Which brings Thomas to where he is now: in an apartment building in the heart of Barcelona trying to make conversation with a kid nearly half his age.
Robert is somewhere in the kitchen making dinner, leaving Thomas and Pablo to stare at each other in a tense silence. They both offered to help, but Robert waved them off, telling them to get to know each other like they have anything in common other than football.
Okay, so Pablo doesn't go to school. Thomas should’ve known that. He tries again. He is nothing but persistent. “What do you do for fun, Pablo?”
“Football.”
Right. “Anything else?”
Pablo shrugs. “Not much.”
Is Robert’s boyfriend making this difficult for him on purpose? Does he not like Thomas? Is he scared of him? Thomas really hopes he isn't scared of him. He has been told that he has a scary face, but it isn't anything Pablo can't handle.
Thomas holds back a sigh. What do Robert and this kid even do together anyway? Football? Sex? Make videos of themselves dancing on TikTok? That's what young people like doing these days, right?
No, Pablo doesn't seem like the type to put himself out there on social media. Ironically, that's more of Robert’s thing. Thomas doesn't think he will ever erase the memory of Robert swinging his hips to hip-hop music.
Christ, does Pablo like it when Robert does that? Does Robert make him do those silly videos with him, or does he spare him from the embarrassment?
He decides to ask Pablo. “How has Lewy been treating you?”
That is what gets the boy going. His eyes light up like fucking stars. “Robert is amazing,” he says, smiling like he won the Champions League. “He’s always been good to me.”
“Has he?” Thomas asks curiously. He knows what Robert is like with Anna and their daughters, but he still doesn't know what Robert is like with Pablo.
If Thomas didn't know better, he would think that the entire relationship revolved around a weird daddy thing. That the kid gets off on an older man towering over him while Robert gets off on a cute little thing calling him daddy. Robert doesn't strike Thomas as a kinky bastard, but he never struck Thomas a cradle robber either.
“Robert is very nice,” Pablo tells him, a bright smile pulling at his lips. “He’s been kind to me since his first day on the team. I learn a lot from him.”
Pablo can speak in full sentences after all. For someone who causes so much chaos on the pitch, Pablo is incredibly timid. He perpetually looks like he is going to start crying.
He doesn't look upset now though. Talking about Robert makes the grin on his face grow wider, like Robert personally hung the moon.
“And you're happy with him?” Thomas asks, just to make sure. He can do the whole break Robert’s heart and I’ll make sure you regret it speech with this boy, but he won't. Robert is a grown man. He can take care of himself.
“He makes me really happy,” Pablo says, a rosy pink blush dusting his cheeks. “We went on holiday last weekend with Klara and Laura. He's a good father.”
Thomas swallows down a very inappropriate joke about father figures. He doesn’t want to mess with a kid. That’s Lewy’s job.
Almost on cue, Robert chooses that moment to enter the dining room, holding a pot full of home cooked pasta. “What were you talking about?”
“You,” Thomas and Pablo say in unison.
“I'm not surprised,” Robert says, chuckling. He sets the food down on the table before leaning down to place a chaste small kiss on Pablo’s temple. “I hope you said good things at least.”
“I told Thomas how loud you snore at night,” Pablo snickers. “You wake me up at night because you're so loud.”
Thomas really doesn't want to know how Robert keeps Pablo up at night, nor does he want to know how loud Robert is in bed.
Thankfully, Robert isn't keen on divulging those sordid details to Thomas, who wonders why he accepted this dinner invite in the first place. “Enough about that. Let’s eat.”
Thomas is reminded of why he accepted the dinner when he brings a forkful of pasta to his mouth. Robert is a man of many talents, and cooking is one of them. “This is delicious, Lewy.”
“Yeah,” Pablo agrees, his mouth stuffed with pasta. His cheeks are full, the corners of his mouth stained with creamy white sauce. “It's really good.”
“Don't talk with your mouth full,” Robert chides. Before Thomas can react quickly enough to look away, the man is bringing his hand to wipe away the mess on Pablo’s face. No tissues or anything. He just swipes his thumb over Pablo’s lips like he wants Pablo to suck on it.
Pablo swallows, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as the food goes down his throat. “S-sorry.”
“Don't do it again,” Robert says, his thumb still pressed against Pablo’s parted lips.
“I w-won't,” Pablo promises, nodding. His face has turned a bright shade of red, flustered by Robert’s heavy gaze.
The two of them must have forgotten that Thomas is in the room with them. They're looking at each other with stars in their eyes, completely and utterly lost in each other's orbit.
“Good boy,” Robert praises, and fucking Hell, Thomas needs to put a stop to this before he projectile vomits his dinner.
Thomas coughs loudly, lest the two forget about the carbonara and start eating each other. He has gotten used to the idea of this strange relationship with the huge age difference, but the last thing he wants is to witness these two devouring each other’s faces. He has enough trauma to last him a lifetime, thank you very much.
Thankfully, Robert releases his hold on Pablo’s face, sitting back in his chair like he wasn't about to shove all five of his fingers into the boy’s mouth. “Anyway,” Robert says lamely, uncharacteristically sheepish as he fiddles with his fork. “How are you doing, Thomas?”
“Fine,” Thomas says evenly, doubting that the two lovebirds in front of him actually give a fuck. They’re too busy pretending like they don’t want to dry hump each other right here and now. At least Robert is pretending. Poor Pablo looks like he’s about to burst from all the hormones in his body.
Fortunately, Pablo doesn’t get more pasta sauce on his face, and Robert doesn’t have any excuse to touch his lips. Thomas isn’t a prude, but he does not want to see Robert on top of the little chihuahua.
He doesn’t have to. By some miracle, Thomas is able to eat the rest of his food in peace, diligently acting like he doesn’t notice Robert and Pablo holding hands under the table.