Work Text:
“Hey, everything okay?”, Sebas asks him. He hesitated to enter the room. He didn’t know what to do. All he knows is that he cares about Roque, so here he is. “What are you doing here. Leave.”, Roque demands. He was expecting someone else if even anyone at all. He barely looked up, didn’t even really notice his presence before he kicked him out. “I just told you. I want to know if everything is okay.” Sebas repeats his words. “Why would you care? Just leave me alone.” He throws all the bad words that he can come up with at him. “I won’t. You’re wasting your breath with cursing me.” He slowly walks closer, silently sitting down on his bed. He doesn’t say anything else. He carefully watches him. His eyes stopping on the bandage. “Don’t act like you care.” Roque’s weak attempt to push him away. His voice merely more than a whisper. “You don’t think that I did it, right?” Now Sebas really looks worried. “No, I don’t know anything anymore. I couldn’t see. One minute I was in action and the next all I felt was pain. Pain coming from my hand, but reaching every other part in my body. “So, no World Cup for you anymore?” Sebas hesitates to ask. Roque can’t form any more words, so he slowly shakes his head. “Can I see it?”, he gently asks. He hasn’t moved closer. Calmly keeping his distance. “Please, let me see it.”, he whispers. “It was Charlie.”, he blurts out. “Charlie?” Roque looks up to him for a second. “I saw everything.”, he tells him. “I saw the look from him afterwards. He was satisfied. He wanted this to happen. He made you go through this pain, making you miss the final game.” Sebas sounds weak; defeated. “Hey, it’s not your fault.” Roque promises him. He slowly unwraps his bandage. Slowly, he reaches for his chin. “Don’t move your hand.” is all Sebas can say. It pains to see him like this. The man who made them reach the Final. The man who puts his heart onto the field for each game. The man who lost one step before reaching his dream. He looks at the bruises, the swollen hand and something inside him breaks. He can’t stop blaming himself, thinking that it is all his fault. Gently, with all the care he can gather, he touches his hand. He moves it away from his chin into his hands, carefully caressing it. “I’m sorry.”
"Stop saying that you’re sorry.”, he demands. “But–.”, he gets interrupted when Roque shuts him up with a kiss. A slow gentle kiss. Out of breath, Sebas pulls away. “This is what you want. Huh?” He teases him. With a swift movement, he pins him down; passionately kissing him again. In the heat of the moment, their bodies fight for dominance. Strong enough to defeat one another, they swiftly switch positions. He looks at him with desire. A look of yearning as if this is the moment he lived long enough for. He carefully watches him, letting out a light laugh. He follows his movements with his eyes, smirking at the helplessness to remove his shirt with one hand. Without words, he pulls himself up to help him. Gently without wanting to hurt him, he lets him take control. He follows the rhythm of their bodies. His movements. The pace of their kisses. His hand that moves up his high. Like before, he moves aside the fabrice of the shorts; a natural gesture. They move as one; as if they did it before. His hand moves dangerously close. This time, he looks at him, taking in his presence. They’re on their own, in control of themselves, so they let go. They give themselves up to the sound of their bodies.
There is a comfortable silence in the room. Sebas feels warm, not in a suffocating way, but a nice feeling that accompanies him. He opens his eyes one by one trying to figure out where he is. He always wakes up by his own. He turns his head a little and realizes why he feels warm. He’s not alone. Roque put his leg on his and turned towards him, gently hugging him. “I will win it; for us.” “Good morning.” A sleepy voice interrupts his thoughts. “Morning.”, he answers with a smile. “Sorry.”, he says when he tries to pull away. “Why? Stay here.”, he asks him to. “But I’m– That’s your space.”, he starts. “No, no.”, he lets out a chuckle. “I’m laying in your bed. I’m invading your space, so please stay. It feels nice.”, he honestly tells him. A nod follows.
A while later.
“We should get dressed. You have practice today.”, Roque realizes. “Hmm.” Sebas doesn’t let him go; instead he tightens the hug. “Let me go. You don’t want to be late.”, he tries to move away. “Hmm.” Unwillingly, he lets him go. He watches him search for his clothes. He looks at him as if his only purpose is to make him happy. And so, he makes a decision. “I will win the World Cup for us. I will play for the both of us. Until, you can achieve your dreams in action, I will be the one to do it for you. You can count on me.” Sebas tells him without looking away from his eyes. “You don’t have to. It’s useless telling you. You’re stubborn. Once you get an idea, you will follow it.”, he answers. He knows that he can’t change his mind. Instead of arguing, he kneels onto the bed, leaning closer to give him a kiss. “Thank you.”, he mutters. In the next moment, he left for the bathroom; leaving Sebas to smile for himself. He waits. Finding his clothes, he realizes that he doesn’t have new ones to wear. He hasn’t heard a sound for some time. Slowly he opens the door and waits for a reaction. Nothing follows. He enters and he has never been on his knees faster. “Let me help.”, he whispers. Seeing Roque struggle to do every day things, breaks his heart. He can’t stand to see him like that, but he doesn’t say it. He knows that he wouldn’t accept help and pretend to be strong. He knows that help isn’t always needed, but he wants to do this for him. And so, he helps him wash. He uses this chance to get ready with him together and make him smile early in the morning. An expression that’s now engraved in his mind. He helps him get dressed and stops in the movement. “What is it?”, Roque asks him. “I don’t have any clothes with me. I didn’t come prepared.”, he admits. Now, it’s Roque’s turn to let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, you can wear some of my clothes. We’re playing for the same team after all.” He turns around to find shorts, a jersey and a jacket to keep him warm. “Here you go.”, he says while handing it to him. “Thank you.” He quickly gets dressed. “I should leave first.”, he hesitates to say. He hates wanting things to be in his own pace. He knows that he’s less ready, less prepared and more scared. He awkwardly smiles. Roque slowly shakes his head. “You go first. I will come afterwards. Don’t worry about me.” He’s honest. He doesn’t know if his voice sounds steady; if Sebas believes him, so he softly smiles at him. Without any other words, he’s out the door and they’re left alone with their thoughts.