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It is tiring, really. He was not made to spend his days lusting for a rival-team alpha, and he surely was not made to wait until Sergio decided to court him.
He is mad. Sergio should be head over heels for Gerard. The Andalusian should shower him with gifts, flirt with him, and invite Gerard to countless dates until the omega finally accepted (he would obviously say no the first couple of times, lest he makes Sergio believe he's desperate).
At the very least, Ramos should roughly pull him towards the showers, and take him right there.
But none of that ever happens, and Gerard has to go home horny and disappointed.
It makes no sense.
He's hot, talented, and rich. What else could that idiotic alpha wish for?!
The worst part is the indifference. Gerard can stand when Sergio is mad at him, even enjoy it sometimes. Amusement fills him when he gets to rile Sergio up. Yet, sometimes in international duty— when coaches and Iker forbid them from fighting— it feels like Sergio forgets about his existence.
When it became horribly apparent to him that Sergio would not initiate their courting, Gerard had to set his plan into motion. He started simple, calling Sergio 'Sese' so much that the alpha unconsciously began calling him 'Geri'.
( Sergio called him Gerard... or worse, Piqué, when he got mad at Geri during clásicos. But the omega doesn't want to give much thought to that. )
His next step was to develop their relationship beyond their fights. Sergio thinks he can hate Gerard? Let's see how well he will do when the Catalan is in his absolute best behavior.
... easier said than done. Apparently, Gerard has a talent to make people mad. Who would have guessed?
So, his dumb brain believed his best option to start a conversation was to text Sergio after Madrid suffered a horrible defeat.
'Don't worry, you were only 5 goals away from a 5-4 victory.’
He thinks he is endearing... Sergio blocked him for four days.
The fifth day the Andalusian texted him.
'I would try to say something about your losses, but I genuinely couldn't give two fucks about Barcelona's games.'
Gerard hums, walks around his house for five minutes as a sort of payback for the wait, and then texts Sergio back.
'Maybe you should. We're kicking your ass in La Liga. Try and learn from the best club.'
He sees the three moving dots, and doesn't bother to close the message app.
'You know Geri? If you put all the energy you use for your pettiness into your defending maybe Manchester wouldn't have thrown you out.’
He frowns at the text, beginning to understand the appeal of blocking Sergio for some time. For a moment Gerard forgets why he wants that stupid madridista to be his partner.
The omega throws his phone at his bed without answering the message, and takes a cold shower. Thirty minutes later, and with a fresh ready-to-fight mind he picks up the phone. Only one notification in the screen.
'Dumb thing to say.
I'm sorry.’
He groans, mostly because Sergio beat him up at being the bigger man in the situation. So he replies accordingly.
'I apologize for making fun of your, truly humiliating but perfectly natural, loss. That was a dick move.'
Sergio sends him a smirking eye roll emoji, so he believes they're good. For now.
...
Barça's next match was against Atleti and Gerard took that as a chance to meet up with Sergio once he reached the capital.
'In Madrid and hungry as fuck. Recommend me something.'
'It's literally 1am.’
'Anything 24/7?’
'IDK, G. Go to sleep. U have a match tomorrow either way.’
'So you've been following the games...? :)’
'Bye.’
He tries to avoid doing something stupid, but he's tired from the trip and when he texted Leo the argentine did not answer. Gerard decides to go to Ramos' house and knock on the Spaniard's door.
A cozy, but seemingly not asleep, Sergio opens the door. He looks confused, but allows the omega to go into his living room. Geri sits on the couch and closes his eyes.
"...Why are you here?" Sergio asks, passing him a blanket. "Isn't there a nice little hotel room waiting for you around here? Or your club is too broke for that?"
Gerard half-assedly raised his hand, making a grabbing gesture. "Food." He said, ignoring Sergio.
The alpha groaned and went into the kitchen, "What do you want?"
"Something simple? I do have a match tomorrow."
Sergio came back with two bowls filled with cereal. While his own had milk, he served Gerard's dry, to the omega's disapproval.
He poked the other defender's side, to which Sergio quickly replied, "Stop! And don't pout at me, you have a game tomorrow. I don't want to get accused of messing with your meal plan."
The Catalan rolled his eyes, resuming his eating. Soon enough both bowls were gone and abandoned on the coffee table.
Seeing an advantage point, Gerard pressed his head against Sergio's shoulder and rested there. The Andalusian froze, but did not push him away. Testing his luck, he began purring quietly.
The blond man began stroking Geri's hair with one hand, while the other turned on the television.
He could use this opportunity to flirt and try to get things to the next level... but it was two in the morning and tiredness from the flight mixed with food and a secure place against his an alpha's shoulder was beginning to take a toll on him.
Maybe if he rested his eyes one second...
~•~
Gerard woke up as uncomfortable as one would expect after trying to sleep in a couch occupied by two 6-feet-plus adult men.
He stood up and stretched his back and neck. Guardiola would kill him if he was too cramped for today's match;
After killing him for disappearing at night, obviously.
Sergio was still asleep, and he couldn't help when a pang of guilt came to his chest. He didn't wish for Ramos to stay in the couch during the night.
He decided to make the most of his time. So he grabbed his spare clothes from his bag and took a quick shower.
A part of him wants to ask Sergio to drive him to the hotel, playing the 'defenseless omega in a dangerous city' card. The other, logical, part knows that his teammates will most likely kill him if they saw that he disappeared to be with Ramos.
Sergio was already awake when Gerard came out of the bathroom. The Catalan did not even get a word out before Sergio began talking.
"Pick up your stuff, we have to leave soon if you don't want to be late. Traffic is hell in here."
He handed Gerard a sandwich and a thermo, then walked towards the door. The other stood still, so Sergio added,
"Come, I'm giving you a ride."
The younger defender wanted to voice out his concerns. But his chest felt tight and his heart was jumping, so he could not really complain.
He followed the blond, and they got into the car.
Sergio was right, there was some traffic, and it would get worse.
"Why did you come to my house?" Sergio asked when they stopped at a red light.
Gerard shrugged, "...I thought that if I had to be here... I shoulda take the chance to see you."
Sergio smirked, yet once the car resumed moving he asked, frowning. "And you weren't going to say goodbye? How were you going to get to the hotel?"
"I didn't want to wake you up!" He defended himself. "And using a taxi, duh?"
The Andalusian growled, and Gerard couldn't help but flinch, his instincts taking over. If Sergio saw him twitching, he did not comment on it. "You were going to use a random taxi in a city miles away from yours? Without telling anybody where you were or which one you took?"
Gerard looked down, slightly ashamed. "You are exaggerating a bit, aren't you?"
"You know the statistics. I just want you to be safe." Sergio sighed, his alpha scent filling the car. "I'm sorry for implying you weren't capable of keeping yourself safe."
Previous fears forgotten, Gerard decided to say. "I wouldn't mind you keeping me safe..."
Sergio only scoffed at that, "I'm sure you wouldn't."
God, he's so oblivious!
The conversation does not reach anything, but Gerard makes sure to leave the car wrapped in his scent and to kiss Sergio's cheek obnoxiously loud before leaving to the hotel.
Puyi gave him an earful about disappearing, and it only got worse when Gerard accidentally spilled that he was with Sergio.
"Don't worry! Nothing happened... as always." Geri muttered, earning himself a slap the side of his head followed swiftly by a pity look from Puyol.
"You are an idiot." "I know."
"Geri," Puyol began. "If you really like Ramos that much, then just ask him out."
Gerard groaned frustrated. "I CAN'T! What if he says no? He is going to say no. I have to make him believe it's his idea... besides, it's his job to court me.”
Carles laughed loudly at that. Ironically, despite their ages, the long haired alpha had a much more modern outlook about this subject than his teammate.
"You are imposible." He said. "It's the twenty first century; you cannot live expecting he asks you out when you don't have the balls to do the same."
The omega frowned, "Yes I can. And I will."
Puyol rolled his eyes, but Gerard spoke before he could say anything. "And it's not like I don't do anything about it. He just doesn't notice I'm flirting with him!"
"You two are a mess." Puyol says, shaking his head. "If you want my advice, try to court him yourself." He paused for a second. "Think about this, you can tease him about it later. That you had to ask him out because he was too much of a coward to do it first."
Gerard seemed interested with the last part, so he nodded. "Thanks, Puyi." And hugged his captain.
~•~
Ugh! He cannot believe that now he actually has to TRY and begin courting Sergio. It wasn't fair.
If you ask Gerard, omegas are pretty things meant to be protected and cherished. The alpha should do the bare minimum and attempt to get his attention.
Omegas aren't meant to chase. He is sure Leo hasn't chased anyone in his life, neither any of the omegas he knows. His mom certainly didn't.
Is he... defective? So much that he cannot get one simple alpha to like him back?! Why is it so hard?
No time to think about that now. The match was about to start.
It went bad pretty quickly. The team was not connected and sooner than later Atleti scored the first goal.
Then the second.
The third time Gerard finally managed to get the ball before the attack could be completed. He ran down the pitch and passed it to Leo, who divided their disadvantage by half.
2-1, a few seconds left in the extra time of the first half. Then, Barcelona got a corner.
They knew the weight it could have on the game, so everyone was laser focused. Gerard got into position beside the goalpost, a huge Atleti alpha stood in front of him.
The whistle blew and Leo kicked the ball. Then it all went black.
That. Fucking. Asshole.
Everything was spinning, and Gerard felt well beyond confused. Nevertheless, his aching mouth and the pain in the back of his head told him everything he needed to know.
There was a medic beside him, but his only focus now was how the ref was fighting with the Atleti player and showing him a red card. Good.
His gaze shifted to the big screen replaying the action. Apparently the other elbowed him on the face, which made Gerard bang his head against the pole.
He tries to rest back to soothe some of the headache, but then, someone grabs him by the shoulders and keeps him sitting upright.
"Hey, hey, hey. Stay with me." A voice says, it feels like it's underwater.
Maybe he's the one feeling underwater.
A bright light shines into his eye, and he tries to move it away. However, his hand is not cooperating and the only thing that came out of it was a few uncoordinated swats that completely miss the source.
"Geri, Geri..." A voice beside him mutters, he's starting to think it's Puyol's. "C'mon, let the doctor do his job."
His headache is almost blinding, but he feels more aware now. The medic touches the back of his head and the omega automatically flinches.
"Gerard, can you tell me what day it is?" The medic asks.
Fuck...
He looks over at Puyol to search for an answer, that seems to worry his captain.
"...d-did we score?" He ignores the physician.
Puyol growls, "focus! And yes. Defense cleared badly though, own goal." Gerard smiled, at least now they were not losing.
The beta medic huffed. "Gerard, which day is it?"
"It is..." He is trying his best to remember, but not answer seems certain enough. If he fucks this up, there is no way they will let him play the next half. "What does it even matter if I know what day it is?! I know we're in Spain, I know my name... I can play, I swear." He says, frustrated.
The other hums, and signals to Puyol. "Let's get him to the locker room, see if he gets better."
At least it was not an outright negative.
Puyol wraps his arms around the defender and slowly helps him to his feet. Instantly, a pulsating pain overcomes him and he grabs the alpha for dear life. "Fuck, please, Puyi. Make it stop!"
"C'mon, Geri. Let's do a short walk towards the dressing room, okay?" The captain said with a gentle, soothing voice.
It was the worst feeling of his life, and he has had many concussions before. Never had the walk to the lockers felt so long. The medic actually did a change of course when he realized it was halftime and the dressing room would be full.
Finally, he was allowed to sit down on one of the benches in a small room.
The doctor is fusing over him, but Gerard only wishes to sleep.
He closes his eyes, he opens his eyes.
He closes his eyes. He opens his eyes.
He closes his eyes... he opens his eyes.
He closes his eyes.—
"Gerard!" Oh, what is Sergio doing here?
"Heyyy, Sese..." he hopes his smile looks okay, he does not feel too connected with his face to know.
There's something dripping down his mouth, and the alpha cleans it up with his thumb. "Damn, he really fucked you up." Sergio mutters, showing Gerard the red stain that was on his finger. Blood.
"What are you doing here?" The Catalan asks.
Ramos laughs, showing him the jacket Gerard was wearing in the morning. "You left this in my car. I was gonna leave it in your locker... but then I saw you getting your huge head bashed into the goalpost so I thought: maybe I leave it in person."
A groan escapes his lips. He had left that jacket in the car on purpose, so Sergio would have a scented item from him. "Thanks..." Gerard replied, frowning.
The medic is back in front of him again and so is the light in his eyes. He despises that, and soon a sick feeling wraps his stomach.
God bless Puyol— who should probably be with the team at the moment, instead of here—. The captain's foot slides a trash can to rest in front of Gerard, between his legs.
At first he doesn't get it, until the nauseous sensation is too intense and he vomits into the can. Fuck.
When no more bile comes out of his mouth, he looks at Puyol and groans. "I'm going home."
The man nods, petting the omega's hair. "You should go to a doctor and get checked out,-"
"I'm fineee!" Gerard quickly said.
Sergio scoffed, and suddenly Geri is reminded that his crush just saw him puking his guts out and clinging to his captain like a little child.
Gerard stares at the Andalusian... well, at the general shape which he thinks is Sergio. His vision became blurry once he raised his head.
"C'mon, Geri. I'll take you to a doctor and then we can get home." Sergio says, and Puyol glares at him with distrust. "Well, to my house or your hotel room... your home is quite away."
Puyi doesn't seem to want to let go, but the medic convinces him and he also needs to go back to the pitch. So Sergio is left to take care of Gerard.
Normally this would have been perfect. Gerard would tell Sergio he thought the madridista was hot, funny, and that they should fuck. Maybe go for dinner after...
But he is tired, and hasn't really been able to fully wash the taste of sickness out of his mouth. He's currently looking at two Sergio's instead of just one, his extremities don't want to cooperate when he needs to walk or open doors, and he still doesn't know which fucking day is it.
That's why Gerard stays quiet. He keeps quiet during the wait in the hospital, and while the doctor examines him, and the drive back to Sergio's house.
He only speaks after washing his mouth and taking a shower in Sergio's guest bathroom. Now, dressed in some of the alpha's clothes and laying beside him in Sergio's bed, he says
"You are an idiot, y'know?"
Sergio chuckled, without taking his eyes off from the magazine he was reading. "I'm not the one with brain damage, am I?"
"Makes me think that you are," Gerard says, without any control of his words. "The way you ignore.. it."
"It?"
Gerard rolled his eyes, how fucking dense. "What will it take for you to notice? Want me to fucking... present myself in front of you? Ask your father for his blessing? Send you a bazillion flowers to the Bernabéu?! Court you? I've been trying to court you, Sese. They didn't fucking taught us how to do that in school."
Sergio stood there speechless taking in Gerard's rant. "Y-You've been courting me?"
"YES!"
"...So, the clothes in the car? And the late night visits? And the texts? Those were you telling me you liked me?"
Finally! "Yes, Sergio!"
The Andalusian groaned and leaned back to look at the ceiling. "We're a couple of morons."
Gerard smirked and nodded,
"I thought you hated me, to be honest." Sergio added.
"Sometimes." The omega shrugs. "But most of the time I'm just hopping you'll wreck me in the locker rooms after a clásico."
Ramos laughs loudly at that. "I" he says, poking Gerard's side. "Was trying to respect you. I would've made some moves if I didn't thought it would offend you."
Gerard scoffs, "C'mon, I been more passed around in La Roja's locker room than a blunt in a frat house. You really thought I would've said no?"
Sergio frowned at the comment. "Geri, that's not fucking nice."
"It's the truth." He shrugs.
"I don't care." Sergio sternly says. "And I really hope the comment was a result of your brain knocking against your skull and not something you actually think."
"So you don't mind I've fucked with half of your teammates?"
"What does it matter?" Sergio shrugs. "I'll be the last one either way." He smiles.
Fuuuuuuuck
Gerard kisses him, obviously. Sergio accepted the kiss, but he pulled Gerard away too soon for the omega's liking.
"What happened?" Geri pouted.
"You." Sergio says, peeking his lips. "Have a concussion. So you." Again. "Are going to sleep."
The Catalan sighed, but tiredness invaded him. "Fine.." he said as a yawn took over his mouth.
If the next day he wakes up with a headache and the beginnings of a heat attacking him that’s his issue,
And Sergio’s.