Chapter Text
Prologue: fell in from the top.
May, 2011
Barcelona, Spain.
Kun is, on a good day, dramatic.
On a bad one, neurotic.
On a normal one, just annoying.
When Leo steps into the changing room after practice and sees around 15 missed calls on his phone from the last hour, he guesses this is a bad one.
Barcelona hovers over him like a warm cloud. The middle of May, almost the middle of the year. 2011 has gone so fast, so stiff. The season is going to start soon, and Leo wants to simply relax, be prepared, train hard. Pep is telling him almost every day that this is going to be a good season, that they're not ready, and Leo believes him each time.
In general, life is good. The pain from losing the World Cup is still there, and it lingers like perfume, but Leo has his mind on other prizes. Last season was good; he just won his 2nd Balloon d'Or, things are looking good. Maybe he feels lonely sometimes, but his shyness has gotten better, and the team has become the closest thing to a family he has right now. It's good. It's alright.
Kun is still calling him, though.
It's not weird that he does it. He is his best friend, he calls almost all the time, or he is waiting at his front door, some take-out inside a plastic bag, warm and ready for them to eat together, speaking non-stop for hours about Madrid and about his family and about people Leo knows nothing about. He can listen to Kun speak for hours, for entire days, sometimes he does it, long weekends in Barcelona before Kun has to leave to go back to Madrid.
Today, though, it's Friday, but it doesn't feel like all the other Fridays do. Leo is not excited to answer Kun's calls, to keep the details checked about some story to tell Kun later on, to crack a good joke, or to sound at least interesting. Right now, he feels anxious, so anxious for a second that his whole stomach contrast. It only gets worse when he gets a text from Kun, all caps, bold letters.
WE NEED TO TALK.
Which is the worst thing to tell to a worried, anxious Leo in this moment.
The walk to his car is annoyingly long; some of the guys say goodbye, telling him that he should party more, go out more, but Leo is too nervous to even pretend to consider that as an option.
"No, sorry, I will meet Kun this weekend."
"Well, of course you will." Piqué says, laughing, throwing his head back. He starts making kissing noises that make Alves laugh.
"Alright, cut it out," Cesc says, always so serious. But Leo is not annoyed; he is too anxious to even be. Cesc looks at him, the way he holds his phone in his hand, too hard, his hand whitening from the pressure. "Leo, are you okay?"
His voice sounds too worried, almost as Leo feels. Nothing has even happened, but he knows something big is up. Something big is going to happen. He can feel it in his bones. Anxiety crippling in his bloodstream, a message in all caps burning in his phone.
"I don't know." He just says, making Cesc frown.
They all seem to be used to Leo and his vague reactions, his monosyllabic answers, but Cesc reads him like tarot cards; he’s able to see through him. He knows this is something else. Not classical, shy Leo who doesn’t understand the jokes or the social cues or sarcasm.
"Leo, if you are in trouble..."
"It's not that," Leo says, because it really isn't. He is not even sure what's going on either way. "It's Kun." He says, because he guesses it's the true.
That seems to make Cesc finally breathe. "Ah, troubles in paradise—"
"I wouldn't call it that—"
Gerard appears out of fucking nowhere to put his arm around Leo's neck, holding him closer. "Ow, Leo here is having issues with his boyfriend—"
"He is not my boyfriend—"
"Can you all leave him alone?" Xavi says... from somewhere. Leo is not sure where he is standing in the room. He is like a God sometimes, talking from somewhere, always making sure the boys behave.
It works, though, Gerard gets away from him and starts fighting with Xavi, Alves still laughing, Cesc rolling his eyes. He sneaks and keeps walking, getting to his car. He starts the car with one hand, the other one taking his phone and pulling it close to his ear, to then hold it with his shoulder while he starts to back the car into the parking lot to exit, the phone ringing almost too loud against his ear.
Kun picks in the second ring.
"Leo." And if Leo was worried before, he is now panicking. Kun's voice sounds strained, almost choking, almost too high, like nails against a chalkboard.
"Kun." Leo says, almost choking. He is still doing three things at the same time. Speaking with Kun, try not to crash the car in reverse and calm down. The first two are a lot easier than the third. "What's going on?"
"I am at your house," Kun says, just that. "I can't talk about this on the phone- Leo, I fucked up. I fucked up bad."
Leo's stomach sinks. "Look, we can figure something out, I can help you with this-"
"Oh, no, Leo, I don't think you can." Kun breathes out. “Look, just... Get here. I need you."
That sends shivers down Leo's spine, his whole body shaking. "I'll be there in five."
Leo is there in five. He has violated the traffic laws of Barcelona; he has violated the laws of time and physics. He doesn’t care. He is there in five.
His house looks almost the way it always does when he arrives from practice. Too white, illuminated, with perfectly pruned bushes. The only thing that appears to be out of place is one Kun Aguero sitting in the front door, a backpack on the floor next to him. His head between his hands. Leo can hear from here his strained breathing, his head running a mile.
It's a peculiar sight. Kun, wholesome, friendly Kun, who never takes anything serious, who never stops cracking jokes, who looks at life like an adventure. Kun, almost crying at his front door, dresses all in black. It makes Leo's stomach do cartwheels, not the happy, almost comical ones, but the bad ones, the ones that make Leo almost vomit, almost choke.
But he needs to handle this. Kun, who has always had his back since he knows him, needs him now. He needs to be there for him.
When Kun hears him coming closer, he looks up, meeting Leo's eyes. His eyes look red, like he has been crying nonstop. Kun, who's always sun-bathed and warm, now looks pale and cold, his entire body rigid like one who saw a ghost. It makes Leo get nauseous with worry, his entire body feeling like a cage, wanting to move closer but also away enough to not upset Kun even more. It's suffocating. Leo moves around Kun like air, like feathers flying, as easy as nature, but right, he has no idea what to do with his body, with his hands.
Leo looks back. "Are you okay?" Maybe it's a stupid question, but it's the only one he can think of asking right now.
That gets Kun out of his spell, standing up so fast it must be too much for his altered brain. Kun stands up, and he looks so young for a moment, still 22, about to turn 23 in just a couple of weeks. It's so frightening seeing him like this. Leo doesn't know where to put his hands.
"I need to talk to you inside." He says, softly, his voice raw, like he hasn’t spoken in hours.
Leo nods, too fast, his head starting to hurt. He gets closer to the front door, Kun next to him, shaking like a leaf, cold as the sea. The keys shake in Leo's hand, so embarrassing, but Kun doesn't crack any joke. He just waits.
He turns the lights on when he opens the door. The house always seems like always, too big, too white, too empty. Leo likes it, but sometimes it makes him feel too small. It's nice when the boys come to visit; they play games and joke around. When his family visits, the whole place smells like homemade food. When Kun comes, the whole place is full of laughter. Right now, it's filled with nothingness. It feels so big and so small at the same time, choking them like a boa constrictor.
Leo drops his backpack on the floor and closes the door. Kun moves inside the house like a ghost. His hair, dark and long, barely moves while he goes round and round. He is pacing like a madman, and the bitter feeling inside Leo's stomach just gets worse.
"You're freaking me out," Leo says, too soft, making Kun stop his pacing. He looks at Leo and seems regretful about what he sees. Probably Leo with his eyes open like wide plates, his hands shaking, his entire body rigid with worry.
“I’m sorry.” He says, and it sounds like he means it. Kun seems so lost for a whole moment, so young, so tiny.
“What’s going on?” Leo asks, finally. He doesn’t want to drag it out. He has to do some calls, put some money out of his account, and hide a body; he will do it. In a heartbeat. It’s terrifying, but it’s true, he will do anything for Kun.
“It’s… complicated.”
“Kuni, you’re really freaking me out-”
“I am freaked out-”
“Okay, but why? What’s going on? You need to tell me. You have been calling all day-” Kun huffs and starts opening up his backpack. “And you show up at my house, and then you don’t tell me what’s happening. Did you kill someone--” Kun opens the backpack and flips it upside down, starting to shake it. Some things start falling to the floor, but Leo is too busy rambling. “I can help you hide the body. It’s alright. It’s they found i,t we can say it was self-defense—” Leo looks down at the floor to see what’s falling from Kun’s backpack. He frizzes and stops talking when he realizes.
On the marble floor of the house, plastic tubes fall almost nonstop from the backpack. They produce a very low sound, almost like a glass breaking on the floor. Leo looks at them carefully and breathes sharply when he manages to decipher what they are.
They are pregnancy tests. About twenty, maybe thirty. All on the floor. All positive.
This is even worse than homicide. Sort of.
Leo guesses it’s normal, in a way. Men can get pregnant; it’s fine. He has met some friends whose fathers birthed them; in Argentina, it’s pretty common. He knows Kun’s grandfather gave birth to her mother, so he knows the genes run in his blood. It’s alright, it’s a fun fact. Kun could get pregnant if he wanted to. The thing is, Leo never thought he wanted to.
Looking at Kun now, his eyes red, his nose congested, his face pale. Leo guesses that he is right. He doesn’t want to.
“Are you joking—”
“How could I joke about something like this—”
“You like men? I didn’t know you liked men—”
“I guess, I do. Sometimes—”
“Sometimes? Kun, you’re fucking pregnant, that sounds like you like them at least a bit.” Kun huffs again, sitting in one of the chairs in front of the island in the kitchen. He looks defeated. Leo is probably not making it better. His best friend, pregnant. Probably gay. Definitely pregnant. Gay, men— “Who is the father?”
Kun growls like an animal at that. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know—”
“Some guy at a bar. I don’t even remember it—”
“You don’t remember?” That puts Leo in a weird place. He thinks about it. Kun having sex. Kun having gay sex. Kun having casual gay sex. Kun having casual gay sex and getting pregnant. “Are you gay—”
“I don’t know, okay! I— I do it sometimes; it doesn’t mean anything to me. Nothing has ever happened. I do it with women too. It’s… whatever.” Kun having casual gay and straight sex. “It doesn’t matter, right? That guy is obviously not in the picture and I am fucking pregnant—”
He is. His best friend, pregnant. It’s surreal. He remembers when her mom was pregnant with his little sister. So round and swollen all the time, waddling around like a duck, always complaining. That brings another image to Leo’s brain. Kun, round and swollen. Waddling around like a duck. Always complaining. It sends shivers down Leo’s spine, his face blushing. He needs to stop picturing his best friend in these situations.
Leo comes closer, Kun still sitting on the chair, his face again in his hands. He is breathing hard, almost choking between breaths, which makes Leo’s heart sink. His best friend, pregnant, alone, confused. It’s devastating. Now Leo lets his body react, getting closer, starting to hold Kun’s body. Almost breathtakingly, Kun starts crying.
He has seen Kun cry so many times. Of happiness, of sadness, of anger. But this is so different from all the rest. He seems broken in Leo’s arms. Lost completely. God, he is pregnant. He is pregnant, and Leo has been screaming at him.
Sergio just cries harder, and Leo wonders how scared he must be. Kun, pregnant. Kun, who doesn’t know how to use a washing machine, who burns the pasta when cooking, who sleeps until the afternoon, and has a piercing in his ear. This guy is going to have a baby.
‘What are you… What do you want to do?” Leo asks, mostly to himself. But Kun hears him, of course, and raises his head. His cheeks wet with tears, his eyes fluffy, his lips trembling. What a sight to sore eyes, it makes Leo’s stomach sink in deeper. “I will… Support you in anything you want to do.”
Leo doesn’t say it, because he can find the words to do so. But if Sergio wants to… Yeah, Leo will be there. He will be there for hours, he will take care of him after it, he will do that.
Something in Kun’s eyes shines, and Leo almost lost his breath, his lungs burning. Something weird settling in his chest.
“You want to keep it.” The realization hits Leo hard like a cannonball. Kun is not only pregnant, he wants to be a father. Kun, who doesn’t even cook his own meals, who's been talking for weeks about signing off to Manchester, ready to leave Madrid, who can’t even keep his mouth shut. “You want… You want to keep it.”
“… You sound like you hate the idea.”
“It’s a bad idea.” Leo breathes out. “You can’t even keep yourself alive, how are you going to keep a kid alive?”
“I… I will learn—”
“Kun… Manchester, football, what’s going to happen with that?” Leo starts rambling, stopping the hug, his head spiraling. “You can’t have a baby. You’re not ready. This baby is not going to have a father.” He sees Kun wincing at that, but he can’t stop talking now that he has started. “What’s going to happen with your career? Sergio, you can’t keep the house without a job. You will have to go back to Argentina, be with your parents, we won’t see each other anymore—”
“Leo, breathe.”
Right. He needs to do that. Leo breathes deep. He looks at Sergio, who is still sitting there, in the chair, his face, nose, and eyes red, his cheeks wet. Leo feels like he needs to breathe again, even deeper. Is he having a panic attack? How narcissistic, having a panic attack when his best friend is crying because he is pregnant by a fucking stranger, some madrileño named Carlos, named Sebastian, named Antonio—
Would it be better if it were someone he knew? His stomach sinks again with something sour and ugly, so he guesses not.
“Leo,” Kun calls him softly. Leo looks at him. So young, he is so young, he is just 22, younger than Leo. So sweet, so wholesome. He is not ready; there’s nothing Leo can do to help him prepare for this. There’s nothing none of them can do. Leo is 23, he is just as lost. Just as dumb. “I… Really thought about it.” Kun starts saying, standing up, getting closer to Leo. “I know Manchester is going to cut the deal. I know Atletico will kick me out. I know… I know, my dad is going to be so mad—”
“Oh, he is going to be pissed—”
“But Leo… I…” He breathes deep. “I want to keep it.” He says, almost like a confession. Almost like begging Leo, like he is some kind of anchor. If Leo tells him this is stupid and dumb, Kun will drop it, will schedule an appointment in some facility, and get done with it. “I always wanted to be a parent… It’s too soon. But… I am tired, you know… I feel so…”
Alone.
Leo’s heart shakes in his chest like a rattlesnake. Yes… he can understand that last part. He gets it. He feels it too; he feels so alone, so abandoned. He has thought about getting a dog. But he knows he will be an awful owner, forgetful and incompetent.
He is not comparing Kun’s… fetus to a dog. It’s different. The dog lives in his head. The fetus is here.
The fetus will become a baby. He will become a child. Kun’s child.
“You…” Leo starts, his mouth dry. “You will be attacked by everyone. You will be harassed like a circus animal. You will never play football again; your father will never speak to you again. You will be ridiculed, you will regret it sometimes, you will wish you did this differently.” Kun shakes, his eyes filling with tears. His hands shaking. “And you will not do it alone.”
Kun breathes deep again, before jumping into his arms, hugging him tight. His tears wet Leo’s training uniform. Kun’s chest and abdomen feel like bricks against his body, strong and skinny. It will not stay like that forever.
The thought makes Leo’s body tremble with something he has never felt in his life before.