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Thomas is going to kill somebody.
He is torn between killing himself and killing the couple in front of him. Either way, somebody is going to die, and Thomas should not be held accountable.
It’s his last day in Spain, and Robert had the bright idea of treating him to lunch at one of the trendiest restaurants in Barcelona, which would have been fantastic if not for the addition of Robert’s little boyfriend.
Thomas does not have anything against Pablo, at least not anymore. He knows that Pablo genuinely loves Robert, looking at him with stars in his eyes every time the man opens his mouth to speak. Thomas has also seen— perhaps seen too much— how deeply and truly Robert cares about Pablo. Happier and more at peace than Thomas has ever seen him.
But that is exactly the problem. As happy as Thomas is for Robert, he wishes that he and Pablo would cut back on the disturbing public displays of affection.
Like right now, where the two idiots must have forgotten that they have once again invited Thomas to be a third wheel and are making him feel like a voyeur to their public foreplay.
Oh God, is that something the two of them are into? Exhibitionism? That would explain why they didn't seem to care about Thomas walking in on them fucking in the middle of their dining room. Jesus. Thomas still needs to get brain surgery to remove that image from his memory.
At least the food is delicious, and more importantly, free. Still, Robert owes Thomas a lifetime supply of beer as compensation for traumatizing him so much.
Thomas takes a sip of his drink, trying his best not to comment on the fact that Pablo might as well be sitting on Robert’s lap on the other side of the table, an arm hooked around the older man’s shoulders while Robert’s own arm is wrapped tightly around his waist.
“Is your food good?” Robert asks Pablo in a voice so sweet Thomas feels like he is going to get a cavity.
“Yeah,” Pablo says, and there is a little adoring grin on his face as he gazes up at Robert. “Does yours taste good?”
“Not as good as you.”
Oh, Thomas is actually going to kill himself. The steak knife should be sharp enough to slice his throat open.
He vows to never return to Spain. He does not want to see anybody in a Barcelona kit unless he can do a repeat of the 8-2 Champions League massacre.
Thankfully, Thomas does not have to watch Robert and Pablo’s mating ritual any longer, because a waitress is approaching their table.
She does not seem to recognize the three of them, which is nice. Or maybe she does and she is just being normal about it. Either way, Thomas doubts she is looking at him nor Robert, not when they have the (almost literal) prince of Spain sitting with them. “Is everything alright with your food?”
Thomas smiles. He may not be as baby-faced as Pablo, but he can still turn on the charm. “The food is perfect.”
“That’s good to hear,” she says with a customer service grin on her lips. She then turns her eyes to Robert and Pablo, who are still snuggling like they’re in their own world. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but two are so cute!”
“Thank you,” Robert replies, and Thomas can spot the wariness in his eyes when the girl directs her smile to Pablo.
She’s around Pablo’s age, blonde, green-eyed, and the kind of pretty girl people would expect Pablo to date. Thomas can’t blame Robert for getting all possessive. He can’t imagine what it’s like dating a boy more popular amongst young girls than One Direction.
But then, instead of making a move on Pablo, the waitress shocks all of them when she tells him, “It’s nice that you’re so affectionate with your dad!”
Thomas bursts out laughing. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. Serves Robert and Pablo right for being so touchy-feely with each other. Besides, doesn't Pablo call Robert daddy anyway?
Robert, on the other hand, looks stunned. Beside him, Pablo looks like a Real Madrid player just shoved him to the ground. For the first time since he’s met him, Thomas can see the anger issues Pablo is infamous for on the pitch.
“He isn’t my dad!” Pablo sputters, and Thomas’ sides ache from how hard he’s laughing.
“It’s really alright!” the girl says, unaware that Pablo might actually jump over the table and tackle her. “I think it’s lovely that you’re spending time with your two gay dads.”
Wait, what?
There is no way Thomas heard that correctly. This was supposed to be an embarrassing moment for Robert and Pablo, not him. He isn’t a part of this relationship!
“I will leave you three to enjoy your family time together,” the waitress grins, walking away before anyone can correct her (or in Pablo's case, strangle her).
Thomas groans.
He is never coming to Barcelona ever again.