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Eric
It’s loud in Ansu and Nico’s hotel room when Eric enters.
Even if their hotel rooms are fairly big, with seven of them in there, it might as well be a closet for how crowded it is. Pedri is lounging on one of the beds, texting someone with a small frown on his face, while Nico is laying on his stomach on the other, his phone in his hands and facing the tv at the end of the beds.
Gavi, Ansu, Alejandro and Ferran are in a pile on the floors, fighting loudly over the only two controllers. Ferran is holding one controller high in the air, Gavi trying to grab at it, but Ferran has much longer arms and Gavi just grabs at the air in his attempt. Next to them, Alejandro and Ansu are engaged in what looks like a wrestling match.
“Give up, you little shit.” Ferran tells Gavi, poking him in the ribs and making him squirm. “If you keep trying to get the controller, I’ll bite your fingers off.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ansu’s voice is muffled from where he’s pinned underneath Alejandro’s body. “Ferri, bro, seriously, you’re so fucking weird.”
Eric rolls his eyes and takes a seat at the end of the bed Pedri is laid out on.
“How was your mama?” Nico asks, looking away from the brawl in front of him.
“She was okay, just wanted to make sure that I’m coming over for dinner on Thursday.” Eric had promised his mother five times already, but she always called him to check just in case, as though anything was going to get between him and his mother’s cooking. “She’s made some alfajores for me.”
Nico makes an approving noise. Gavi, giving up on his fruitless attempt to get the controller off of Ferran, turns to face the bed.
“God, I would love some alfajores.” He says dreamily, looking at Pedri. “Pedro, do we have enough stuff at home to make some?”
Pedri looks up from his phone for the first time. “The last time you and Fer tried to make cookies, you nearly burnt the house down. We can buy some from the store instead.”
Eric has long thought that Gavi and Pedri had started living together, mostly because the car that used to be Pedri’s had now very much become PedriandGavi’s car, and he’s seen both of them wearing clothes he’s seen on the other on more than one occasion when they’ve hung out. Neither of them have ever said anything, and Eric’s never been one to pry into his teammates' private lives, but the offhand “at home” comment seems to confirm his suspicions.
“It wasn’t that bad.” Gavi pouts. “It was just a bit of smoke.”
Pedri looks like he very much disagrees, but says nothing.
Eventually, Ansu surrenders to Alejandro, who lets out a victorious war cry, and Ferran loads up FIFA on the screen. Ansu moves lean against Nico’s bed, while Gavi does the same to the bed Pedri and Eric are on. Pedri, apparently finished with his phone, shuffles down the bed to sit next to Eric. His legs dangle over the edge, and he spreads them a little so that they’re either side of where Gavi is propped up. Gavi’s arms come up automatically, resting along the length of Pedri’s thighs.
He watches the others play for a while, Ansu whispering advice in Alejandro’s ear while Ferran attempts to win by elbowing the younger boy every few seconds. It’s getting closer to nine, and Eric is beginning to feel his own eyes drooping a little, when Gavi twists round to look at Pedri again.
“I’m really tired.” He whispers, barely audible over the sound of Ferran and Eric arguing over the fairness of a goal. Eric only just hears it, and that’s only because he’s next to them both. “Can we go to bed?”
Pedri looks away from the game to smile softly down at Gavi and nods. “Of course we can, Pablito.”
He stands up, reaching out his hands to help pull Gavi to his feet. The younger wobbles slightly, and Eric assumes it’s because his legs are stiff after being sat on the floor for several hours, and Pedri puts a gentle hand on the small of his back to steady him. It’s an unconscious move, Eric can tell, and he knows that a dynamic like they have only comes with two people who are deeply in tune with one another.
“We’re going to bed.” Pedri says to the room at large. “See you all in the morning. Don’t stay up too late, or Xavi will kill you.”
“Night, guys.” Gavi yawns, nose scrunched up.
The others give a chorus of goodnights and Pedri steers Gavi carefully out of the room. Eric notices Ansu watching the pair of them leave, and for a moment their eyes meet. Ansu raises an eyebrow as if to say do you think there’s something more going on? and Eric gives a slight shrug in return to say yeah, probably .
It’s not the closeness, Pedri and Gavi have always been like that, but he knows for a fact if he told Ferran he was tired, his roommate would tell him to go to bed and would be here in Nico and Ansu’s until long after the video games were finished. It’s the subtle domesticity of their interactions, the subconscious touching, the building a home together, hanging out with each other’s families, that really confirms to Eric that what may have started as a friendship has definitely evolved into something more.
Ansu gives a quick thumbs up which Eric takes to mean good for them , and Eric nods in agreement. He’s not going to try and meddle or gossip; if his friends are happy, he’s happy, and that’s all that matters.
His thoughts are interrupted by Ferran letting out a loud groan as his on screen team concedes a goal in the last minute.
“Eric, that was your fault.” Ferran tells him. “Out of position.”
“I’m not even playing.” Eric says incredulously. “You do realise the FIFA version of me isn’t actually me, right?”
Ferran scowls. “It’s still your fault. Here.” He almost throws the controller at Eric, who just manages to catch it. “You’re in.”
Eric sighs, but accepts his fate and slides off the bed onto the spot Gavi has just left, turning the controller the right way up in his hands.
He’s going to make Ferran score an own goal, he decides.
+
Frenkie
The atmosphere in the changing room after the match is like a funeral.
Frenkie can’t help but to feel utterly devastated. They’d given it everything and it still hadn’t been enough. It was bad enough that they were in the Europa League in the first place, they’re Barcelona for fuck’s sake, but the fact that they’d been so close tonight, only to be knocked out of the tournament in their own stadium, well. Frenkie knows he won’t be able to sleep much tonight.
He stays too long in the showers, wanting to be alone in his misery for a moment before he goes home to Mikky. The rest of the team seem to all decide to make a quick exit, wanting to escape the humiliation and miserable atmosphere as swiftly as possible. The only other person in the showers is Marc, who Frenkie suspects is trying to drown himself.
When he leaves the showers, towel around his waist, he begins to make his way back into the dressing room. He was under the impression that everyone, minus Marc, had already left, but he hears a set of quiet voices as he gets closer.
“Look, I know it’s shit, but we’re going home now, okay?” Pedri’s voice is gentle, calming, but Frenkie can still hear the way it wavers slightly. Frenkie slows to a stop, not sure whether he’d be intruding on something by rounding the corner at that moment. “We can go home and just go to bed and not have to think about this until the morning.”
“I really wanted to win.” Frenkie struggles to hear what Gavi is saying with how quiet the whisper is. “I thought, I thought we were going to do it.”
He hears Pedri let out a shaky breath. “I wanted to win too. Next time, Pablito, we’ll win it.”
Frenkie peeks around the corner slightly. Thankfully both of them are fully dressed, apparently ready to leave too. Gavi is sat down, hunched over slightly and clearly having been crying, while Pedri is kneeling in front of him. Their foreheads are pressed together, Pedri holding Gavi’s face gently in his hands. It’s intimate, private, and Frenkie feels a bit guilty for catching them while they’re having this moment, even if they’re in the team changing room.
He’s thought for a while that there’s something going on with his fellow midfielders. He’s never been close enough to them to really figure it out, but he’s noticed their casual intimacy, the way that Pedri is always looking out for Gavi during matches and pulling him away from trouble, the way Gavi watches Pedri during training for a beat too long to be a coincidence. Frenkie would never ask them, or anyone on the team (albeit he thinks Ferran would probably tell him if he did ask), but he’s pretty sure that they’re something more than just best friends at this point.
“It’ll be okay, I promise.” Pedri says quietly. “We’ll be okay.”
He presses a gentle kiss to Gavi’s forehead. Frenkie hides himself back behind the wall, stomach churning with guilt for witnessing them together on top of the bad feelings about the match, even if neither of them had noticed him. He listens as there’s the sound of movement, of bags being picked up and trainers being put back on.
“Come on, cariño.” Pedri’s voice is a little louder now. “Let’s go home.”
Frenkie waits until he can’t hear their footsteps anymore before entering the changing room. He dries and dresses himself quickly, haphazardly cramming things into his kit bag. He does one last check on Marc, who gives him a weak smile and promises him that he’s going to go home now, before hurrying out of the stadium and into his car.
On his drive home, he thinks of Mikky, how her support of him and his career has been unwavering even in his darkest moments. She’s sacrificed so much for him, moved to another country, given up on her own dreams. He thinks of the look on Pedri’s face when he told Gavi they would be okay; in spite of his own clear devastation at the outcome of the match, the temporary ending of his own dreams, the only thing he wanted to do was comfort Gavi and to make sure that he was okay.
That feeling of having someone who will listen, understand, and be there for you no matter what is something that Frenkie realises he might be taking a bit for granted.
When he gets home, Mikky is waiting with open arms, kissing him on the cheek and telling him that she’s always proud of him, how much she loves him and how lucky she is to have him. And in that moment, Frenkie holds her a little bit tighter than normal, and tells her no, Mikky, I’m the lucky one.
+
Ansu
Gavi’s 18th birthday party is as dramatic and drink-filled as Ansu expected it to be. Ferran and Eric seem to have gone out of their way to buy as much alcohol as possible to celebrate the fact that Gavi is finally an adult, meanwhile Ronald has managed to source a DJ with bright pink hair, who goes only by the name of El Loco.
Ansu decides not to ask why.
He’s just coming back from the kitchen of Gavi and Pedri’s house, feeling pleasantly buzzed after several drinks, when he spots Pedri hovering on the fringes of the party. It’s unusual to see him alone, normally he and Gavi are attached at the hip, but the expression on his face has Ansu confused. His brows are furrowed slightly, lips downturned and he looks stressed, as though this is the middle of a particularly difficult match, not his best friend’s (or as Ansu heavily suspects, boyfriend’s) birthday party. Before Ansu can try and figure out why, Pedri turns and heads away towards the back door and out into the garden.
Navigating his way through the maze of bodies, saying a quick hello to Alejandro and Robert, he manages to reach the back door and slides it open to step out into the cold night air. Pedri is sat on one of the wooden patio chairs, looking as pensive as ever.
“Hey,” Ansu greets him, Pedri jumping slightly as he does. “You okay, bro?”
Pedri nods. “I’m alright, just a bit hot in there.”
Ansu sits down on the chair next to him and fixes Pedri with a stern look, the Canarian shrinking a little under his gaze.
“Pedrito, I’ve known you for too long now,” Ansu tells him firmly. “I know you’re not okay.”
Pedri is quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the party going on behind the glass of the backdoor. Then, he sighs heavily and slumps down in the chair, running a hand over his face.
“I guess today just made me realise how young he is.” Pedri says quietly.
Ansu frowns. “Who, Gavi?” When Pedri nods, it startles a laugh out of him. “You do realise you’re only 19, right? I know you’re going to be 20 soon, but it’s only a couple years difference, not a decade or something.”
Sometimes Ansu feels as though Pedri is so much older than him, even if their birthdays are only five days apart. The other boy has always been mature and calm compared to many of the other youngsters, a steady figure in the midfield on the pitch and just as much off of it.
“I know that.” Pedri’s tone is unreadable. “It’s just, he’s got so much potential, you know? He could go anywhere, do anything.”
Whether it’s the alcohol or the fact Pedri isn’t actually answering his questions, Ansu doesn’t know, but what he does know is that he doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.
“Why would Gavi go anywhere else?” Ansu asks. “He’s Barcelona through and through.”
Pedri shrugs. “So were a lot of people, they still left.”
The conversation is going absolutely nowhere and Ansu isn’t sober enough to try and read between the lines. He gently kicks Pedri in the ankle, making Pedri turn to look at him.
“Pedro, I love you, but what the fuck are you going on about?”
Pedri sighs heavily again. “I don’t want to hold him back, Ansu. I want him to live up to that potential, to go and do the things he wants to do, even if it’s not here.”
Ah, so that’s it. It’s not about Gavi leaving or not leaving Barcelona, it’s about Gavi not doing things because of Pedri. It basically confirms his theory that they’re dating, but other than that, Ansu thinks it has to be one of the stupidest things he’s ever heard, and he tells Pedri so.
“I’ve known Pablo since we were like this tall.” Ansu gestures to a small child’s height with his hand. “And I know him, he’s like my brother, we’ve been there for each other through pretty much everything. I’ve watched him go through every crush and girlfriend or boyfriend and all that stuff, and trust me when I say, I’ve never seen him act the way he does with you. He’s always watching you, wanting your attention. He’s happier here with you than he’s ever been.”
“But that’s my point.” Pedri looks at him rather desperately. “He’s going to sacrifice doing things because we’re - we’re dating and then he’s going to regret it. And even if he wouldn’t say it, he would blame me and I would blame myself too.”
A strobe light from inside, most likely from El Loco’s DJ set, shines on them briefly and Ansu finally gets a proper look at Pedri. He looks exhausted, as though these thoughts have been eating him up inside for a while now. The usual dark circles around his eyes are even more pronounced and his skin is pale.
“You do realise you’re equally as talented and have just as much potential, right?” Ansu points out. “You could just as easily leave, but would you?”
Pedri shakes his head. “Of course not. This is my club until they don’t want me anymore.”
“Exactly, so why would Gavi leave?” Ansu takes a deep breath. “Look, Pepi, do you love him?”
The Canarian inhales sharply, swallows as a flush comes across his cheeks.
“Yeah.” His voice is rough when he finally answers. “Yeah, I love him.”
Ansu isn’t really surprised by the admission, and under any other circumstance he might make a joke about it, but he can tell that this isn’t the time. He’s got more emotional awareness than Ferran Torres, thank you very much.
“Well, I’m pretty sure he feels the same way, which is why he wouldn’t leave.” Ansu shrugs. Pedri looks like he wants to interrupt, so Ansu cuts across him before he can. “You’re not holding him back, he’s an adult and he’ll make those choices himself. He already chooses Barcelona and you every single day, why would it be any different in the future? And even if either of you did leave, you’d make it work, that’s what people who love each other do. He would never blame you for anything, because he wouldn’t have any regrets if he stayed here with you.”
The fight in Pedri’s eyes seems to die at his words, and he leans back in the chair, looking up at the star flecked sky pensively.
“You really think so?”
Ansu rolls his eyes. “Yes, you idiot, I really think so.”
“What do you really think?”
Both of them startle and turn round to find Gavi, clearly quite drunk now, closing the back door behind him. He’s wearing one of Pedri’s hoodies and Ansu wonders how Pedri can have been so blind not to see how gone Gavi is for him.
“I think that the DJ’s definitely been arrested before.” Ansu lies easily. He’s not about to spill Pedri’s secrets right now, even if he’s certain Gavi will know them all soon enough. “It’s the eyes, he looks like a serial killer. And the hair, god only knows where Ronald met that guy.”
Ansu stands up, reaching out and pulling Gavi towards him. Gavi comes easily, wobbling a little, and with a stupid grin on his face. Ansu wraps an arm around his shoulders.
“How’s the big party been, birthday boy?” Ansu grins back at him. “You enjoyed yourself?”
“Yeah, it’s been amazing!” Gavi beams, eyes bright. “Although, Eric and Sira had to stop Ferran from stripping on the dining room table. That was fucking weird.”
Pedri lets out a horrified noise. “You nearly let Ferran strip on our dining room table?”
Gavi turns those doe eyes on Pedri, beseeching. “You’d disappeared, and I can’t control that idiot on my own! I thought you’d gone to bed, actually, I was looking for you.”
Pedri looks quite guilty at Gavi’s words, and Ansu steps in quickly, not wanting to ruin Gavi’s cheery mood on his birthday.
“That’s my fault, Pablito, I wasn’t feeling great and I dragged Pedri out here with me.” It’s another little white lie, but what Gavi doesn’t know won’t hurt him. He doubts Gavi will remember most of this tomorrow morning with how much he’s drunk.
“Oh.” Gavi frowns, looking worried now. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I didn’t notice, Ansu, everyone kept giving me drinks.”
Before Ansu can say anything, Gavi clumsily pulls him into a hug. Gavi’s always given nice hugs, genuine and warm, and Ansu hugs back tightly. Gavi’s arms come off of his back after a moment and his voice is loud as he giggles in Ansu’s ear.
“Pepi, come join the hug. We can make Ansu feel better.”
After a moment, Ansu feels Pedri’s arms come up around him and realises that he’s now sandwiched in a hug between his friends. It’s fucking ridiculous and wonderful all at once and he can’t help the laugh that he lets out. Before he knows it, they’re all laughing, still stuck in their little huddle, tears streaming down their faces as they try to control themselves.
“I love you both.” Ansu tells them once they’ve calmed down and managed to untangle themselves from one another. “Seriously, you’re my best friends, I fucking love you and I’m so happy for you that you’ve got each other.”
There’s a moment of silence, in which Gavi and Pedri meet each other’s eyes and for a fraction of a second Ansu wonders if he’s said the wrong thing, but then Pedri smiles and the moment passes.
“Me too.” Pedri says softly and even in the darkness of the garden, Ansu can see the way Gavi’s face flushes with what he assumes is happiness. “Now, birthday boy, let’s get you back to your party. We need to cut the cake, unless Fer’s managed to get to it first.”
He reaches out and slings a casual arm around Gavi’s shoulders, Gavi looking very pleased as he brings an arm up around Pedri’s waist. It’s nothing out of the ordinary for the two of them, but now Ansu knows there’s something more to it, it makes him feel a sense of peace.
“Let’s hope they’ve managed to stop Ferran stripping.” Ansu says and Pedri groans. “Or if not, I hope someone took a video.”
“I don’t.” Pedri mutters darkly. “Xavi might actually kill him this time.”
Ansu hopes there is a video; he might send it to Xavi himself.
“Come on then, lovebirds,” Ansu says, sliding the back door open, the sounds of the party flooding out into the night. “Let’s party.”
+
Robert
Robert would like to think that he’s pretty observant. He knows when Anna is feeling stressed because of the certain way she twists her mouth, he can tell when Klara’s about to have a crazy five minutes because of how fast she starts talking, and he’s pretty sure that they’re about to get knocked out of the Champions League in about a week's time.
The atmosphere in training is subdued, and Robert knows that most of them are aware of the fact that it will take nothing short of a miracle for them to not end up in the Europa League again, and he’s very much aware that his performances have not helped the situation.
Gavi seems oddly quiet during training, his usual buoyant nature toned down, and a pinched expression on his face. Robert debates with himself whether to say anything; he’s got a great relationship with Gavi and he’s very fond of the youngster, but he thinks that if Gavi wanted advice from him, he would ask.
It’s on Wednesday morning, as they walk out onto the training pitch together, that Gavi finally decides to speak.
“Lewa, can I ask you something?” Gavi says quietly. He’s got an arm wrapped around Robert’s back, and Robert has an arm over his shoulders.
Robert squeezes his shoulder. “Of course, anything.”
“How did you tell Anna you were in love with her?”
It takes Robert a second to clock what he actually said given the speed at which the words leave Gavi’s mouth. When the understanding hits him, he’s a little surprised, and it must show on his face because Gavi blushes a deep red.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t really remember.” Robert admits, because he’s been with Anna for such a long time that the earlier parts of their relationship sometimes are a bit of a blur. “I think one day we just said ‘I love you’ and that was it. I think I knew very early on in our relationship, though, that she was the one.”
Gavi blinks. “Oh.”
Robert raises an eyebrow at him. Gavi looks a bit scared now, face paling.
“Do you think you’re in love?” He asks quietly.
He doesn’t need to ask with who - Robert hadn’t been that surprised when Gavi had privately admitted to him that he and Pedri were dating. In fact, the only thing that he had been surprised about is how long they had managed to hide it and that they had started living together. Robert supposes the fact they drove into training everyday together should have been a hint.
“I, yeah, I think I am.” Gavi says, equally quiet. “I mean, I know I am. I think I’ve always known.”
Robert has to fight a smile at this.
“And you haven’t told Pedri this?”
Gavi shakes his head. “Not really. Like, we say ‘I love you’ and stuff, we’ve said that for ages, but that’s different.”
“Is it?” Robert asks, because to him “I love you’ is fairly telling, especially in a romantic context.
“Of course it is.” Gavi says, as though this is obvious. “I love lots of people, it doesn’t mean I’m in love with them. I love my friends, my family, my team, it’s totally different.”
Robert considers this for a moment, and he supposes that Gavi is right. Love comes in all different forms; the love he has for his wife is different than the love that he has for his children, and the love he has for his family is different than that he has for his team.
“That was very profound, Pablito.” He grins and Gavi laughs. “You’re right I guess, it is different. And you want to tell Pedri this?”
“I want to tell him, because I think he should know how I feel, but I don’t want to scare him.” Gavi looks down at the pitch, frowning. “I’m just worried that if I tell him, he’ll panic.”
“Really?” Robert asks, because he’s watched Pedri and Gavi together for a while, and he’s fairly sure that Pedri is just as in love with Gavi as Gavi is with him. On more than one occasion, he’s caught Pedri during training watching Gavi with a small smile on his face, eyes full of affection.
Gavi nods. “He was really stressed when we moved in together, he kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to do it. I know that all happened really soon after we got together, so I thought I should keep this to myself for a while. I just think he might freak out.”
In a way, Robert understands why Pedri would be concerned; both Pedri and Gavi are so young, and if their relationship were to end, it would most likely not only ruin their friendship, but possibly their on-pitch partnership as well.
On the other hand, he’s witnessed their connection firsthand, the way that both of them naturally seem to gravitate to one another, along with all the little tidbits that Gavi has told him about their relationship, and Robert would be willing to bet his Champions League winner’s medal that Pedri feels the same.
“I don’t think he would freak out.” Robert assures him. “I think he would say the same thing, actually.”
Gavi looks up at him with bright, hopeful eyes. “Really?”
Robert has to resist the urge to laugh.
“I don’t think he would let you move into his house, eat all of his food or take you into work everyday if he considered this a casual relationship.” Robert says, and Gavi pokes him in the ribs.
“I don’t eat that much food.” Gavi pouts. “Besides, it’s our house, so it’s our food.”
Before he can say anything more, Xavi’s voice echoes across the pitch, yelling at them all to come over to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Pedri and Ferran giggling together, Ansu rolling his eyes next to them.
“Tell him.” Robert says quietly. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, you just need to tell him how you feel, and I’m sure he;ll tell you that he feels the same.”
Gavi nods, still looking a bit nervous, but more determined now.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
Training goes as well as expected, the negative cloud of the very likely Champions League exit hanging over their heads, but everyone seems to be trying their best to try and ignore this. Xavi has clearly shifted the focus back to keeping up with Real Madrid in La Liga, and Robert privately agrees that that’s the best way to go.
When he gets home, he’s greeted by Klara, who jumps into his arms with a delighted squeal. Laura is there a moment later, unable to keep up with her older sister due to her little legs, but the beaming smile on her face makes Robert’s heart melt as he bends to scoop her up into the hug.
It’s later on, when he and Anna are curled up together on the sofa after putting the girls to bed, that his phone pings. He checks it to find a text from Gavi.
Told him, went good, you were right! Thank you <3
Robert smiles at the message.
“What is it?” Anna asks, turning her head to look up at him.
Robert turns the phone to her. “Gavi and Pedri, they’re young and in love.”
Anna reads the text and lets out a little “aw”. Robert sends a quick message of congratulations back and then puts his phone down on the arm of the sofa.
“Do you remember when we were young and in love?” Anna looks up at him again.
Robert can; he can remember being so nervous on their first date that he considered cancelling it. Thankfully, he’d managed to pull himself together, and the rest is history.
“Of course.” He presses a kiss to her forehead. “I think we’re still fairly young and in love, don’t you?”
Anna laughs. “In love, yes, young, not so much. But if that helps you sleep at night.”
“I’m 34, not 64!” Robert fake pouts and Anna laughs even harder. “I tell you what, next week, I’ll get someone to look after the girls and take you out on a proper date. Then we can pretend we’re 21 again.”
“That sounds like a plan to me.” Anna leans up and kisses him, still smiling. And in that moment, Robert feels just as young and in love as he did fifteen years ago.
+
Xavi
Even though Xavi is sure other people would disagree, he’s always felt that in life, you can have more than one soulmate.
Núria is his romantic soulmate, he loves her more than anything (except his kids) and while he’s never been 100% sure why she puts up with him, he’s not about to complain. She takes his mind off of stressful results, looks after him when he’s not feeling his best, and Xavi wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her.
Andres, on the other hand, is his footballing soulmate. He understands Xavi’s outlook on the sport more than anyone else, always knows exactly what he’s about to say and why. They have such synergy when it comes to football, sometimes it’s as though they have a window into the inside of the other’s brain. Xavi’s pretty sure that Núria is grateful that she doesn’t have to listen to his winding rambles about passing or tactics.
A small part of Xavi, one that tends to appear more often when matches are going badly, wishes that he could force Andres to retire and drag him back to Barcelona to be his assistant. It’s also at times when he has to deal with more uncomfortable, emotional, conversations that he wishes he had Andres’s patience and softer, more approachable demeanour.
He supposes Núria calls him emotionally stunted for a reason.
So, when Andres texts him to tell him that he’ll be visiting their training session, Xavi has never been more relieved to see him. Andres greets him with a beaming smile, and Xavi pulls him into a tight hug. He looks happy, relaxed, and Xavi feels fondness for his former midfield partner bubble up inside of him.
The players come to see him, some of them who’ve never met him before shyly, others with a bit more confidence. Those who played with him (which only consists of Jordi, Busi and Sergi now, making Xavi feel really fucking old) stay a little longer to talk about the upcoming Supercopa and ask how life is for Andres in Japan. Xavi waits until everyone is off doing their drills before turning to Andres.
“Is it strange being back here?” He asks, because he can remember how weird it felt coming back to Barcelona for the first time when he was no longer a player.
Andres shrugs. “A little bit. We’ll be back home soon though, I think. We can’t stay in Japan forever and Anna and the kids miss Barcelona too.”
The comment makes Xavi feel a bit better.
“What’s wrong?” Andres asks suddenly, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve got that look on your face that you had when Geri and Cesc tried to tie Jordi to the top goalpost after we won La Liga.”
“I’ll tell you inside.” Xavi says quietly. He’s not about to cause a scene during training.
Andres raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t press, which Xavi appreciates.
Training goes fairly well, everyone seems to be in good spirits and Xavi thinks that they’ll have a good shot at the Supercopa, even if privately he’s not that confident they’ll be able to compete against Real if they end up facing them in the final.
Once everyone else is back in the changing room, Andres follows him back to his office. Xavi shuts the door behind them, locking it for good measure.
“Are you planning on keeping me hostage?” Andres asks, laughing a little. “I just told you I’d be back soon, Xavi, you don’t need to lock me in here.”
Xavi sighs heavily, sitting down at his desk. “I’ve got a big problem.”
Andres perches himself on the desk, carefully moving some paperwork out of the way.
“Alright, and what is this big problem?”
“It’s Gavi and Pedri.” Xavi runs a hand over his face. “I think they’re dating or something.”
Andres blinks. “Oh, well I wasn’t expecting that. Are you sure?”
Xavi nods, leaning back in the chair. “I stayed late the other day to finish off some paperwork, and went by the changing room to make sure that everyone had left and I saw them, you know, kissing.”
Internally, Xavi’s quite thankful that it was nothing more than kissing, because he doesn’t think he would have been able to ever look the pair in the face again. Seeing them kissing had been uncomfortable enough, even if it had only been briefly before he had made a hasty exit. He’d suspected something more had been going on between them for a while, especially with the occasional comments thrown in by some of the others, but seeing it in the flesh had still been a bit of a shock for him.
Andres, the traitor that he is, looks like he’s trying hard not to laugh at Xavi’s distress.
“Go on, you can laugh.” Xavi tells him sourly, and Andres does, looking very amused. “How the fuck do I deal with this, Andresito? I don’t even know where to start.”
“Why do you need to deal with anything?” Andres asks. “What they get up to is their business. Unless it’s going to impact the club, I’d say leave them to it.”
If it were up to him, Xavi would leave them to it rather than having to endure what will undoubtedly be an incredibly uncomfortable conversation, but he knows as manager of the team he can’t really afford to do that.
“What if it hadn’t been me catching them?” Xavi points out; he can imagine every newspaper headline, every press conference question. “What if it had been someone else who would have sold them out to the press? I don’t care what they get up to outside of here as long as it’s legal, but we both know what the reaction to this would be.”
Andres hums pensively. “I suppose you could just talk to them, tell them that you support them but they need to be careful. And preferably nothing obvious at the training grounds or Camp Nou.”
And this is why Xavi appreciates Andres so much, because he makes everything seem a little less complicated.
“I love you.” Xavi tells him, patting his hand. “Seriously, please come back and be my assistant.”
Andres grins, flipping his hand and grabbing Xavi’s own briefly. “You’d just have me doing all the things you don’t want to do. But I love you too, I suppose.”
He decides the best way to go about it is to speak with them privately. He can see the fear immediately appear in Gavi’s eyes when he asks to speak with him and Pedri after training the next day and feels a bit guilty, but he knows it has to happen.
When the pair of them trudge into his office, Pedri shutting the door behind them, they both look anxious. Xavi gestures at the two seats he’s placed in front of his desk, and doesn’t miss the look they exchange.
Sometimes, they remind him a lot of himself and Andres, completely in sync with one another’s emotions both on and off the pitch. He can see a lot of Andres in Pedri, the calm and composed demeanour regardless of the situation, the way he manages to glide through the midfield. He can see his own passion in Gavi when he plays, although sometimes the younger boy reminds him irresistibly of Sergio Ramos, full of affection yet ready to fight in a heartbeat.
There must be something in the water in Sevilla.
“Look, I’m not going to drag this out.” Xavi says before either of them can speak, deciding to try and keep this as simple as possible. “I know that you two are-”
“We’re not doing anything wrong.” Gavi blurts out fiercely, evidently figuring out what Xavi was about to say and Xavi blinks.
“I know you aren’t.” Xavi tries to sound understanding. “I don’t care what you get up to, well, I do care - you know what I mean.”
Gavi, however, is still frowning.
“Then why are you telling us off?”
“Pablo.” Pedri says quietly, placing a placating hand on Gavi’s arm.
“You wouldn’t have dragged us in here if either of us got a girlfriend.” Gavi continues, shrugging off Pedri’s hand. “So why are you doing it now?”
This really isn’t going the way he had hoped it would; he wonders if Andres would consider returning to Barcelona sooner than planned.
“I’m not telling you off.” Xavi assures him, leaning forward on the desk now. “I’m trying to tell you to be careful. I saw you, well, kissing the other day when I came to check that everyone had left training. Imagine if I had been anyone else, they could have used that against you. The press are already assholes, they would have a field day if they knew.”
“So this is about protecting the club.” He can tell that every single one of Gavi’s defences are raised right now; he looks a bit like an angry cat, hackles raised and eyes narrowed. “You don’t want us to damage the club’s reputation.”
Xavi looks at him incredulously. “What are you going on about? I don’t care about protecting the club, I care about protecting both of you.”
“Oh.”
“If anyone at the club has a problem with you two being together, you can send them to me and I’ll deal with them. But, the media would try to destroy you both and I couldn’t do anything to stop that.” Xavi tells them, gentler now. “I know that it’s shit and we should be well past this by now, but you have to be careful. I couldn’t stand it if anything were to happen to either of you because the wrong person found out about this.”
Pedri, who’s been silent until now, reaches out again and puts a hand over Gavi’s where it rests on the arm of the chair. “The mister is right, Pablito, we have to be more careful.”
Gavi flips his hand over, very much as Andres had done with Xavi yesterday, and entwines their fingers. He still doesn’t look happy, but after a moment, he nods.
“I care about both of you a lot.” Xavi ignores the slight waver in his voice. “I just want you to be happy, and if that’s with each other, then that’s fine with me. But other people won’t see it that way, so please, please, don’t give them any reason to hurt you.”
There’s a silence that falls between them following this, Xavi unsure as to whether or not he’s said too much, but then Pedri smiles and relief sinks into his bones.
“Thanks, mister.” Pedri says softly. “We really appreciate your support. I promise we won’t do anything stupid.”
“I’ve seen everyone else do much stupider things around here.” Gavi grumbles. “Jules and Ronald tried to lock Pablito in a locker yesterday morning.”
It’s in that moment that Xavi realises that he truly is basically the parent to a team of very overgrown children. He makes a mental note to check the lockers next time he’s the last person in the building.
“There are definitely plenty of idiots here.” Xavi agrees, smiling a little now. “I’m sorry if I upset either of you, I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
Gavi finally gives him a small smile. “Thank you, mister.”
“Come on then, you two best go before the others think I’ve kidnapped you.” Xavi says, standing up. The other two follow suit, Pedri moving towards the door, Gavi trailing behind him. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.” Pedri opens the door, holding it for Gavi, who doesn’t move. “You coming?”
“Yeah, I just want to ask something.” He says, not looking at either of them. “You can go, I’ll catch you up.”
Pedri looks a little wary, but nods all the same, giving Xavi a wave as he leaves. Gavi waits until the door swings shut before speaking.
“I’m sorry I got angry.” He says quietly. “I just don’t like the fact we have to hide. It makes it seem like we’re doing something wrong, and we aren’t.”
Xavi puts a hand on his shoulder. “I know you aren’t, you don’t need to be sorry. It’s complete bullshit, but one day hopefully things will change.”
Before Xavi can say anything more, Gavi pulls him into a hug, tucking his face into Xavi’s shoulder. He recovers quickly from his surprise, and wraps his arms around Gavi’s small frame, gently patting him on the back. He presses a kiss into Gavi’s hair, feeling the arms around him tighten a little.
“Thank you.” Gavi mumbles into his shoulder.
Xavi pulls him back, cupping his face. “I’m always here for you, all of you. As long as you’re happy, so am I.”
Gavi nods, looking a little embarrassed, but he’s smiling properly now.
He shows Gavi to the door, the younger man rushing out with a “see you later, mister” and hurrying down the corridor, probably wanting to catch up with Pedri. Xavi shuts the door for what will hopefully be the final time, moving to sit back down behind his desk again, feeling a lot more relaxed than he did twenty minutes ago.
They might all be idiots, but he truly loves his team.
+
Ferran
Ferran knows that most people who know him think he’s got no social awareness, has had his friends call him a danger to society on more than one occasion, and he can tell he’s roughly one ill timed joke away from Xavi sending him straight to the B Team.
In spite of this, Ferran knows his friends and knows them well. He knows when Andreas wants five minutes alone to clear his head before a match, can tell when Eric needs someone to boost his confidence, and he’s fairly certain that there’s some discontent brewing between Gavi and Pedri.
He’s not sure entirely what, because the pair of them are still joined at the hip as ever and give each other ridiculous heart eyes when the other isn’t looking, but he can see something a little forced in their interactions. Ansu waves him off when he makes a comment about it, calling him an idiot, but Ferran is certain that something is going on.
It’s only after the Supercopa victory, when he’s gone to see his parents in the back of the plane, that he manages to catch Pedri alone. Pedri is sat there chatting happily with his brother, his parents talking with Ferran’s own.
“Pedrito!” Ferran greets him, throwing himself down into the free aisle seat. “How is my golden boy?”
Pedri rolls his eyes. “I’m fine. Anyway, Gavi is golden boy now, not me.”
“You’ll always be my golden boy though.” Ferran tells him, patting his thigh. He can see Fer trying not to laugh. “And speaking of Gavito, what’s the deal with you two? Why are you not sitting with your siamese twin?”
Pedri gives him a wary look.
“How much have you had to drink?” He asks suspiciously.
“Not much.” Ferran shrugs. He’s only had some champagne and a couple beers, it’s not as though he’s drunk, just a little tipsy. “Don’t change the subject, why are you and my little prince fighting?”
Fer stifles a snort into the neck of his hoodie as Pedri’s expression becomes stern.
“We’re not fighting.” He says firmly. Ferran raises an eyebrow. “We’re not! We had a disagreement, that’s it, and we sorted it. It’s not a fight.”
Ferran nods slowly. “Alright, and what was this disagreement about?”
Pedri sighs, leaning back in his seat. Fer, on the other hand, leans over him and gestures for Ferran to come closer.
“He hasn’t told our parents that they’re dating yet.” Fer whispers and Ferran is fairly surprised, because he would have thought it was obvious to Pedri’s parents that he and Gavi were a thing. “And Gavi’s pissed off about it.”
“But surely they already know?” Ferran whispers back. He pokes Pedri in the side. “Why haven’t you told them?”
Pedri shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know how, I mean, we only agreed we would tell them after the World Cup and I didn’t want to do it over Christmas just in case. So, yeah, he's mad at me about that but there hasn't been a good moment to tell them yet.”
It’s the biggest load of rubbish that Ferran has ever heard.
“Just in case of what? Your parents are like the nicest people ever.” Ferran says dismissively. He clambers up to kneel on the chair, poking his head over the top to where his mother and Pedri’s mother are talking. “Mama Pedri, would you be shocked if I told you Pedri and Gavi were dating?”
His own mother slaps a hand over her face in a long suffering fashion; Ferran supposes she has had to put up with him his whole life. He hears Fer gasp, and Pedri let out an indignant “what the fuck Ferran?”. Pedri’s mother, however, looks completely unfazed.
“Not at all.” She says calmly. “I’m not an idiot, I'd already noticed that a long time ago.”
Pedri appears over the top of the seat now, looking stunned. “Really?”
Pedri's mother rolls her eyes. “Pedro, please, I am your mother. I know you, so of course I knew, your father does too. We’ve thought you might have told us already, actually. I'm not sure why you thought you needed to hide it from either of us."
Pedri looks completely gobsmacked, as though he thought that he and Gavi were being subtle in their relationship or something. Ferran decides not to tell him that moving in together after about three months of being friends, spending every waking moment together, and looking at each other like the other person had hung the moon isn’t remotely subtle. Honestly, his friends are idiots.
“And you’re okay with it?” Pedri asks, and Ferran can hear the nerves creep into his voice.
Pedri’s mother smiles warmly. “Of course, cariño, as long as you’re happy. You know we love Pablo, he’s practically family.”
“Oh.” Ferran watches as all the tension drains out of Pedri’s body. "Good, that's, yeah, good."
The sound of the others singing is beginning to filter through to the back of the plane now; apparently for the rest of the team, the party is restarting. Ferran hears Jordi wailing loudly, completely out of tune.
“See,” Ferran turns back to Pedri and pats him on the arm. “I told you they wouldn’t care.”
Pedri’s expression goes from relaxed to murderous in a heartbeat. “Ferran, if you don’t get out of here in the next ten seconds, I swear I'm going to kill you.”
He’s never seen Pedri look so angry in the long time that he’s known him, and he sounds serious enough with his threat that Ferran is actually quite afraid he might follow through with it. He stands up quickly, away from where Pedri might be able to hit him.
“I’ll just, um, send Pabilto down here, shall I?” He asks, walking hastily backwards. Pedri’s mother nods approvingly at him, while Pedri himself still looks livid. At least Fer is laughing. “See you later, mama!”
He practically runs back into the main cabin of the plane, seeing that the off key singing is coming from the corner where Jordi, Ansu and Alejandro are sat. Ronald and Jules are doing some sort of dance in the aisle next to them. He finds Gavi sat talking to Robert, both of them laughing about something.
“Pablito,” Ferran greets him, Gavi and Robert looking up at him. “Your mother in law requests your presence at the back of the plane.”
Gavi blinks. “She, what?”
“Your mother in law,” He gestures to the cabin he’s just fled from. “She would like to see you.”
“As in Pedri’s mama?” Gavi looks terrified. “Why?”
Why indeed. Ferran debates with himself for a moment, before deciding to come clean. Pedri will tell him everything the moment he finds him anyway, and Gavi is much less intimidating, even with his anger issues. Ferran likes to think of him as a chihuahua; small and harmless as long as Ferran is bigger.
“Well, I may have, you know, asked her what she thought about your relationship.” Ferran says, going for a casual tone. “And then your boyfriend threatened to murder me.”
Robert gives a quiet Jesus Christ , meanwhile Gavi looks almost as furious as Pedri had done.
“Why the hell would you do that? We hadn’t told our parents yet.” He asks angrily. “What the fuck is the matter with you, Ferran?”
It’s not the first time that he’s been asked that rhetorical question, and he doubts it’ll be the last.
“Chill out, she already knew you were together.” Ferran tells him, edging back into the aisle and out of reach of Gavi just in case. “She’s totally fine with it, she’s pretty happy, actually. And, as I said, she wants you back there. I think Fer might as well, Pedri was pretty pissed off.”
Gavi gives him a glare, but stands up all the same, clambering over Robert and out into the aisle. He moves to head down to where Pedri’s family are sat, but then turns back and looks at Ferran, the anger in his eyes mixed with nerves now.
“Was she actually okay with it?” He asks quietly. "She didn't seem disappointed or anything?"
Ferran nods. “Of course not, she said she loves you. I think she was only disappointed that Pedri hadn’t told her yet, she was practically ready to ask you to join the family.”
Gavi nods, but says nothing more. He takes a deep breath and then turns on his heel and walks down into the other cabin and out of sight. Before Ferran can do or say anything more, Robert smacks him hard around the head.
“Lewa, what the fuck?” Ferran asks indignantly, clutching his aching skull. “Eric, I’m being abused!”
“Good!” He hears Eric shout from further down the plane. Traitor.
Robert levels him with a stern look, not unlike the one Xavi normally gives him. “You’re a complete fucking idiot, and if I didn’t love you, I would have hit you a lot harder than that. Now, sit down and shut up before you cause any more chaos.”
Robert tugs him into the seat Gavi has just vacated. Ferran decides not to argue - his head is killing him.
Later on, when Robert has been dragged off by Marc and Frenkie to play some German board game that Ferran can barely understand sober, he decides to go back and check on his parents.
He finds Fer and Pedri watching something on Fer's phone, Gavi having fallen asleep slumped over with his head in Pedri’s lap, the older boy gently running his fingers through the Sevillian’s hair. Pedri frowns at him as he enters, but he looks a lot happier than he did earlier, so Ferran calls it a win. Pedri’s mother gives him a wink and Ferran beams at her.
“You know, Ferri,” His mother says as Ferran sits down next to her, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I’m worried that one of these days, you’ll do something stupid and someone might actually kill you.”
Ferran shrugs. “Maybe, but I’ve made it this far. Besides, Sira wouldn’t let anyone kill me.”
“She might be the one doing it, she has to put up with you more than anyone else.” His mother jokes, grinning. “Seriously, though,” Her voice becomes a whisper. “I think you did the right thing. They look so sweet together, and I think you took a big weight off of your friends' chests.”
“You know me, I always aim to please.” Ferran says and his mother laughs.
When they arrive back in Barcelona, Ferran watches as Pedri’s parents hug and kiss their son goodbye, followed by a shyly smiling Gavi. Pedri looks on fondly, turning and catching Ferrans eye. He gives Pedri a thumbs up and Pedri mockingly flips him the finger, but he grins and Ferran grins back.
His friends might not think he’s the brightest bulb in the box, but for once, Ferran thinks he’s an absolute genius.