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The wait is agonizing.
Every single person on the pitch and in the stands of Reale Arena anxiously waited to see any sudden movement of the referee that would indicate the final decision from VAR regarding the last minute header that Ronald scored, which would secure Barcelona the win and the three points that the team desperately needed.
The air in Gavi’s lungs wouldn’t slow down, every breath seemed harder to catch as he stood on the pitch. Raphinha and Alejandro were next to him, talking in hushed whispers. But Gavi couldn’t hear what they were saying, because his sole focus was on the indication of the ref’s hand and whether or not this night would end in exuberant triumph or one more painful defeat to crack Gavi’s ribs wide open.
He looks over at Pedri, who had his hands on his hips, sunken eyes scanning around the pitch, staring down the ref as well.
There wasn’t anyone who was more delighted to hear that Pedri was coming back than Gavi, maybe even more ecstatic than Pedri himself. It had been too long, too long without the magic man next to him, holding down the midfield as they have always done. But now Gavi has him back, and just like how he hugged him tight when he returned to team training, he wasn’t going to let go if it was the last thing he did.
He would do anything, anything for Pedri to stay healthy and long-last playing throughout the season. And when he said anything, Gavi meant it. Even sacrifice something of his that he is so good at doing for this club, for the people he loves. Pedri wouldn’t allow it, would say something along the lines of, don’t go doing that now, and then ruffle his hair affectionately, we need you more than you know.
It felt like hours, the stadium much quieter than he would have thought, the anxiety and unease in the air thick. Pedri catches his eye and his head begins to ring.
Then, the ref blows his whistle while pointing to the center of the pitch.
The stands erupt into objections and yells of anger from Real Sociedad’s fans, but the only thing Gavi can think to do is pick up his feet and run after his teammates towards the Culer section of the stadium. He laughs and screams, everyone shouting Vamos! as they all celebrate with one another, the joy so palpable after such a poor performance that has become a little too recurring for his liking. But that’s for tomorrow, because today, they won and that’s all that truly matters.
Gavi was further behind the rest of them, pumping his fist in the air, running after Ronald, and his teammates huddled together gleefully. Another day, another difficult match where he didn’t feel like they could get the game under them; the weight of the passes was just off and every chance not good enough. But the football gods, or whatever was out there, finally let them catch a break. The air finally returned to Gavi’s lungs as he took a deep breath in and exhaled.
He can’t see the ‘8’ written on the back of Pedri’s shirt anymore, now turned around, facing Gavi. Gavi’s toothy smile grows bigger, lips already forming another vamos! Mid yell, Gavi runs right into him, Pedri mirroring his emotion as he wraps his arms fully around Gavi’s back.
He holds on tight, but Gavi doesn’t reciprocate the hug. And oh, does he want to, desperately wants to throw his arms around Pedri and bury himself in his embrace right then and there. But he just doesn’t trust himself this high on emotion, that he might even do something stupid like kiss Pedri in front of thousands of eyes to see.
So, he just rams his body into Pedri, letting the joy take over his body and enjoy the way Pedri feels around him.
When Pedri lets him go, Gavi doesn’t let himself think too hard about the loss of touch, just runs toward Ronald to jump on his back and give him a kiss on the neck, silently thanking him for his late-game heroics.
The team stays over in the Culer section for a bit longer, celebrating with the fans, until it was time to head back to the center of the pitch for the referee to call the end of the game.
Gavi leans over his knees for a bit, trying to take in what just happened. They live to see another day, and it’s all he can ask for when confidence is so low after their devastating defeat against Madrid.
When he looks up from his hunched over position, he sees Pedri turn and walk towards him. Pedri has this smile on his face, like he can’t believe they won either. It’s such a jubilant smile and Gavi would do anything to make sure it stayed there forever.
He holds his hands out for Gavi, asking for a double high-five, and Gavi can only oblige, because when has he ever been able to say no to the man in front of him?
Gavi smiles and high-fives Pedri. What he didn’t expect was Pedri opening his arms, his chest, his soul to Gavi, wrapping his arms around his neck, and pulling the younger into Pedri’s chest. “Vamos, amor,” Pedri quietly says into Gavi’s hair, kissing him softly in the wake of his whisper. It’s such a soft display of affection—burns a delicious mark into his skin and he could just melt into the ground. He nuzzles his face into his chest a little further, hoping he could just fall into Pedri’s bones and stay there forever.
He knows they need to get a move on, so he reluctantly pulls his head out of Pedri’s chest, but doesn’t release his hold on the elder. They walk towards the center of the pitch together, arms around each other, and await the referee’s final whistle.
Real Sociedad kicks off in a defeatist manner and the ref blows his whistle. Gavi’s eyes wander right back to Pedri, finding that he’s already looking back. His heart flutters against his chest, and he can’t help but smile. They won tonight, Pedri’s back, and his chest feels a little bit more whole.
Walking into the tunnel together, Xavi is there to greet them at the end of the hallway toward the dressing room.
He congratulates them on the win and gives them each a quick squeeze. He hugs Pedri first, saying something along the lines of “glad you’re back.” He then turns to Gavi and does the same.
“Good job, kid,” Xavi says, holding the back of his neck.
“Thank you, Mister,” Gavi replies. It was always nice to receive praise from the former player that he worshiped as a child in La Masia, all scraped knees and growing pains, watching Barcelona do what Barcelona did so well during those golden years. So he takes it whenever he can and tucks it away, keeping it safe.
Xavi lets him go and walks past them into the dressing room, Pedri waiting for him and Gavi can’t get back to him fast enough. That stupid smile hasn’t left Pedri’s face, eyes so bright and wondrous, looking at him like he’s the only boy in the room, and Gavi physically has to restrain his limbs from grabbing his face and kissing him dumb.
“Like he said,” Pedri tells him, wrapping his hand around Gavi’s forearm, tracing his thumb over the vein, sending heat up his arm. “I’m so proud of you, Gavito. I’m sorry I haven’t said that to you sooner.”
There’s a few people left in the hallway, stadium staff, but all he can focus on is the man in front of him. “I know you are,” Gavi replies, looking down at Pedri’s fingers curled around his forearm. Then he looks up at Pedri’s face, searching for him to look at him again. “You always are.”
Pedri lets out a soft laugh, looking up to meet Gavi’s gaze. “Yeah, I am,” he smiles fondly, and it’s filled with so much love, love that he holds so tight to his heart, that Gavi doesn’t know what to do with it other than let it spill out of his chest everywhere.
“I want to kiss you,” he blurts out before his brain catches up, but he can’t seem to even bother to regret the statement. He’s not really sure where the confidence came from, but the depth of his feelings for Pedri is something he’s never been more sure of in his life.
To Pedri’s credit, his gaze doesn’t waver, and doesn’t even look surprised. “I know,” he says cooly. “But not here. Not for everyone to see.” And god, Gavi has never loved someone like he loves Pedri.
Tongue numb, Gavi can only nod his head. And when Pedri lets out another laugh, shines that beautiful smile down at him again, lifts his arms to wrap around his neck and gives him another kiss on the forehead, Gavi feels at home—aching so deep he can feel it in his bones.
“I’m so glad you’re back with us,” Gavi tells him. I’m so glad you’re back here, with me, he means. Pedri squeezes his shoulder in return.
They walk into the dressing room together to greet their beaming teammates, Gavi holding onto the promise that Pedri has given him for later, for just the two of them.
The flight home is quick enough and everyone disperses to get to their belongings from the dressing room, saying goodbyes until tomorrow’s recovery session.
Pedri and Gavi linger, trying not to make it obvious that they are holding out. Ronald is the last one, and he looks at them both and bids his goodbye. “Behave you two,” is all he ends with, before heading out into the parking lot. And maybe it’s their fault that they are so obvious. Gavi knows that his heart is stitched onto his sleeve for all to see; but at this moment, he couldn’t care less when all he sees is Pedri and the potential they hold—in more ways than one.
“Hey,” Gavi says, unsure of how to initiate.
Pedri walks toward him, eyes locked, and stops when there is about a foot of space between their bodies. “Hey,” he simply replies.
“Can I kiss you now?” Gavi asks, clearly cutting to the chase.
Pedri laughs again, and Gavi could listen to it for the rest of his life. “Eager much?” It’s teasing, but it’s obvious by the way Pedri pulls Gavi in by his lower back and wraps his arms around his neck, that he’s done waiting as well.
“Only when it comes to you,” Gavi responds. “Only ever you.”
Without a second thought, Pedri gives him one last love-filled look before pressing his lips to Gavi’s.
It’s everything Gavi imagined and so much more. He had always imagined the softness of Pedri’s lips, how it would feel against his, and how Pedri’s body would respond to him. It doesn’t seem like a first kiss, because they have always been so much more than teammates, so much more than just friends; kissing Pedri makes him feel like he’s sixteen again, getting his first call-up to the first team and seeing the Canarian boy with dark eyes from across the pitch that ended up ruining his life in the best way possible.
This was much more than a first, more like a culmination of where they would always have ended up: loving and being loved by one another.
Soulmates, Gavi’s brain shouts, and he grins into the crevice of Pedri’s wanton mouth.
Gavi’s hands caress Pedri’s cheekbones as he deepens the kiss and Pedri lets out the sweetest little moan, and yeah, Gavi is never coming back from this.
Pedri lets go slightly and Gavi chases after Pedri’s mouth, whining at the lost contact. Pedri chuckles and brings his mouth to Gavi’s again, placing chaste kisses along his lips, handling him with such delicate care, and Gavi’s heart is ready to explode with a love that he has never experienced before but has always known.
“I love you,” Pedri says when he releases his mouth, nestling into the crook of Gavi’s neck.
Gavi's heart soars and he hugs him back, hand in Pedri’s hair, holding on, because who is he to ever let him go again?
“I love you more,” Gavi whispers in his ear, other hand slithering down to his waist.
“Not possible,” Pedri challenges.
“Oh, please,” Gavi scoffs playfully, moving Pedri’s head to look at him. “I think I have loved you since the first day I met you at the Joan Gamper all those years ago. I am an expert in loving all things you.”
Pedri throws his head back, his natural blush on full display. “Oh, wow, so corny,” he replies. “But, the feeling’s mutual.”
Gavi holds him there, with all the care in the world. “So, we both win, then?”
“I would say so,” Pedri says, grasp holding on tighter to Gavi’s neck.
“Good,” Gavi murmurs, kissing Pedri one more time. “This is the only thing I would let you beat me in, though, by the way.”
“Well then I better take advantage of this opportunity,” Pedri answers, kissing his top lip, and Gavi is warm all over. He’s perfect—everything Gavi could have ever wanted.
They exit the dressing room and head out to the parking lot reserved for the players, hand in hand. Their cars are parked next to each other, cars a bit expensive for people their age. When they separate, Gavi feels the nostalgia of when he was too stubborn to get his license because the car rides with Pedri are some of his fondest memories with the elder.
Pedri looks at him from across his car. “You gonna come over?”
“Yeah,” Gavi responds a bit too quickly, but was there really any other answer?
“Good,” Pedri smirks, unlocking the driver’s side door. “Then I’ll see you at home.”
Home. A small shiver spreads across his chest and down his spine when he says home, like it’s something so much more than the four walls of Pedri’s apartment.
And it is so much more than that. Home is Pedri, their future together. Home is their love.
“See you at home.”