Work Text:
- Sadness
“It’s a torn ACL and an injury to the meniscus. We’re very sorry, Pablo, but that’s the end of the season for you. We will schedule the surgery and then develop a recovery plan, allowing you to potentially participate in the Euros.”
“How likely is it that I’ll be fit for the Euros?”
The doctor hesitated slightly. “To be honest with you, it’s doubtful. But we’ll do everything in our power to make it happen.”
It had been 24 hours since this rather disappointing diagnosis, and Pablo had not realised it just yet. It would probably take him more than another 24 hours to do so. Until his surgery, he was on crutches and wearing a splint, which made him look severely injured. And fine, maybe he was – at least every fucking step felt like it – but that didn’t mean he was willing to accept it. Still, the doctor had appealed to his reason and asked for his cooperation because that was the only way he might recover in time for the Euros, so he dutifully used both for now. Even when he visited his team.
Yesterday had been hectic. After his check-up, he had flown back to Barcelona where his family had awaited him. They had tried to comfort him, even though he could barely tolerate their pitying glances, before his meds had knocked him out for twelve hours straight. As soon as he had woken up again, Aurora had forced him to have a small breakfast before taking him to the training ground.
And even though he didn't want any more sympathy, he still loved his team and knew they worried about him. Thousands of messages had reached him after his injury, but he left most of them unanswered. He only replied to Aurora; he didn’t even look at the rest—not even Pedri’s. His teammates wouldn’t hold it against him; most of them knew the feeling after an injury. They’d understand that he didn’t reply right away. Besides, he was now standing in front of the entrance.
He took one last deep breath, then he entered the building.
“Pablo!” María, an older staff member responsible for intern coordination, greeted him happily, and he immediately felt a little lighter. Admittedly, he had forgotten a little about her, even though she had been working with the team for years. Whenever she saw the players, she inquired about their well-being and was always eager to ensure everyone’s happiness.
He hobbled over to her and allowed himself to be pulled into a side hug, which he couldn’t properly reciprocate due to his crutches. He let himself be hugged for a few seconds before stepping back and bracing himself for the pitying words that would inevitably follow.
“The team is waiting for you in the gym,” she told him instead and patted his cheek. “Especially Xavi is pleased to see you, even though he would never care to admit that. Tough exterior and all, you would know.”
A little surprised, he chuckled. He definitely didn't expect that. No sympathy, no ‘how are you?’, nothing. It was refreshing, and he felt some tension easing. Maybe his visit wouldn’t be as bad as he had imagined.
Slowly, he made his way to the gym, where María told him the rest of the team would be. Even before he reached the entrance, he met his coach, who immediately pulled him into a firm hug.
“It’s good to see you, Gavi,” he smiled and briefly squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course,” he nodded, because yes, even though he would have preferred to isolate himself for a few more days, he had already realised that it felt good to see some of his favourite people. Besides, his friends would probably have been at his door by tomorrow at the latest if he still hadn’t texted them back by then.
“Well, we don’t want to keep the others waiting, do we?” His coach, goodheartedly, patted his shoulder once more before opening the door for him. The room immediately descended into utter and complete chaos, and for the first time since his diagnosis, he felt truly present. This wasn’t just a bad dream he was experiencing; this was his new reality. But at least, his friends were by his side.
He received one hug, one kiss after another from his teammates, and with each touch, he felt increasingly exhausted. He loved physical affection; everyone knew he was affectionate. But right now, it made him realise what this injury meant. He wouldn’t be able to attend practices for months. He would only be sitting in the stands for months. He wouldn’t be able to help them in any way for months. God, welcome to your own personal hell, Gavira.
And then, he spotted Pedri. The Canarian had waited patiently for everyone to greet him before approaching. Wordless, he placed a hand on his head and gently kissed his temple, and Pablo couldn’t help but bury his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder. He took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears threatening his composure, grateful that no one dared to interrupt this moment. Even the photographer had dropped his camera.
“Everything’s going to be okay. I’m here,” Pedri whispered, and it was probably his boyfriend’s familiar voice that made Gavi’s walls crumble. He dropped his crutches and clung to Pedri’s shirt like a lifeline, tears finally spilling over.
In his lover’s arms, he had his first breakdown since the diagnosis.
- Frustration
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Annoyed, Gavi let his head fall back on the floor and closed his eyes. He had only wanted to bake a cake for Pedri’s birthday party because he didn’t really have anything better to do, but then he had lost his balance and ended up lying on the kitchen floor and couldn’t get up by himself. Great.
Of course, in his overconfidence, his crutches lay forgotten on the first floor, which he obviously couldn’t reach now, could he? One would think that, as a professional athlete, you would be able to get up by yourself even when injured, but that was clearly not the case.
Frustrated, he huffed before opening his eyes again and sitting up. He needed a new plan; he somehow had to reach his phone to contact someone. Carefully, he scooted over to the kitchen table, where he had placed his phone, ignoring the pain in his knee. He tried stretching as far as he could and reached for the device when the front door opened.
“Gavi? Are you home?” A familiar voice announced itself, and he could have cried with joy.
Fer! I’m in the kitchen and I could really need some help!” he replied, and the footsteps of Pedri’s brother immediately approached.
“Fuck, Gavi!” Startled, Fer closed the distance between them, then reached out to grab his outstretched arms and help him to his feet. He was then seated in a chair while Fer ran upstairs to get his crutches.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The elder looked at him reproachfully after returning.
“Baking a cake,” he murmured. “But clearly, my last brain cell decided to abandon me when I tore my fucking ACL.”
“Obviously,” Fer echoed. He critically glanced at the bowl and shook his head. “You know, you need—"
“-more time until I’m allowed to walk without crutches?” he finished the sentence. “Yes, I know that. Thanks for the reminder, but I know myself that I’m good for nothing.”
Fer silenced him with a pointed look before pulling out his phone and making a call.
“Hey! What are you doing?” he immediately demanded to know, even though he already knew the answer to the question.
“Calling Pedri and telling him that his boyfriend is doing silly things without him and that he should rather come home before said boyfriend ends up killing himself.” Unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and turned away when his brother seemed to answer the call.
No more than twenty minutes later, the front door opened again. Pablo had made his way to the sofa in the meantime and had busied himself with staring at the ceiling.
“Hey,” his boyfriend’s voice broke the silence, and he turned his head toward him. Pedri had crossed his arms and was frowning in concern. “Do I have to call a babysitter in the future so you don’t ignore your body’s boundaries?”
Gavi immediately rolled his eyes. So Pedri also thought he couldn’t do anything on his own anymore, thank you very much. “I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, but fine. If you’re that ungrateful and see me as useless like everyone else, I can just go home.”
“Pablo…” He sighed heavily and slowly approached the sofa.
“No! I’m sick of everyone mothering me,” he hissed. “I’m fine on my fucking own, okay?! My knee sometimes hurts, so what? I should still be able to bake a birthday cake for my boyfriend.”
“Pablo, I know you’re angry, but-” his boyfriend started, but was immediately cut off by him, “I’m not fucking angry! I just don’t want this anymore. This injury is screwing up my whole life!”
After that, the room fell silent for a moment. Pedri knelt beside him and wore his typical understanding look, which Pablo had sometimes found hard to bear lately. Why was Pedri always so understanding? Even when he snapped at him, Pedri didn’t get angry but instead found the right words to comfort him.
“Talk to me, baby,” he then asked him gently and raised his hand. Pablo allowed him to rest it on his cheek – lightly leaning into the touch. No matter how frustrated he was, he probably would never shake off his boyfriend’s caresses.
He took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t cry now; he didn’t even know if his body was still capable of it, since he had cried so much the past few days.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he whimpered instead. “I know I should rest and that it’s stupid not to use the crutches, but I just can’t take it anymore. I feel so useless; no one expects me to be okay on my own anymore. I never felt so drained, Pedri. I just want to crawl into bed and never get up again.”
“I know how you feel, Gav.” If it were anyone else, Gavi would have huffed at the answer, but it was Pedri. If anyone knew how injuries felt, it would be him, unfortunately. “And I know that it’s a tough situation, and you want to break free from it. But someday, you’ll realise that it will only work if you follow the doctor’s orders. It might take a little more time, but until then, I’ll be here by your side, okay? I don’t want to find you on the floor because you overdid it. Pablo, I love you. You know best how I’m feeling right now; you’ve helped me through my injuries more times than I can count. I can’t stand to see you suffering. So please, try to use your common sense so your recovery goes smoothly.”
Finally, Pedri set his understanding aside, but Pablo wasn’t sure if he preferred the current pained expression. He didn’t fully grasp how much the injury affected his loved ones – he was too absorbed in his own feelings. Of course, he knew they cared about him, but he hadn’t fully accepted that it wasn’t just him who was impacted.
“I’m sorry.” He lowered his gaze and swallowed hard. “I was selfish and—"
“No, Pablo.” Lovingly, Pedri grabbed his chin and turned his head back to face him. “You were human.” With a tender smile, he leaned forward and paused, allowing Pablo to bridge the last few centimetres that still separated their lips.
- Anticipation
“You’re making great progress, Gavi,” the team’s head of medical found after finishing his check-up. “I think you could use another week of individual training before rejoining the group.”
“Seriously?” Pablo couldn’t hide his surprise. It had been a very long recovery—much longer than he would have liked. He had missed the Euros and, consequently, his national team winning the tournament. He had missed the start of the new season, and honestly, he had begun to think he would never make his comeback. But now-
“Yes, seriously,” came the confirmation. “It will take you a few more weeks to fully recover and be cleared for the squad to avoid any risks, but you will be coming back soon.”
“Of course, yes.” Hastily, he nodded. He was fine with that. He hoped to play for many more years. There would be more matches, tournaments, and trophies to win. He could wait a few more weeks.
He talked with the doctor about the last stitches of his recovery before leaving the medical wing and heading to the training ground. He needed to share the good news with Pedri.
“Pablo!” Fermín was the first to spot him, and immediately everyone turned around to greet him. Pedri interrupted his drill and shot a glance at Flick, who made a dismissive gesture, signalling a short break and allowing Pedri to jog over to him.
“Hey.” He gently placed his hands on Pedri’s cheeks and drew him into a tender kiss.
“Mh-“ Surprised, Pedri wrapped his arms around him and smiled against his lips. “Someone’s in a good mood today.”
“I’m joining the group training next week,” he murmured into the kiss, which Pedri immediately broke.
“What?!” His eyes widened comically before a big grin spread across his face. Without saying any more, Pedri picked him up and carried him to their waiting teammates, who watched them amused.
“Guess who will be joining the group next week?” his boyfriend announced after he had put him back on the ground, prompting everyone to burst into cheers.
He couldn’t stop smiling as his teammates came over to congratulate and hug him. Then, he put his arm around Pedri’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and his boyfriend simply pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“In good times and in bad, mi amor,” he replied softly, and Pablo looked at him in surprise.
“That’s what you say when you get married,” he remarked. Pedri smiled warmly at him and paused for a moment before stating, “I know.”
Overwhelmed, he stared at his boyfriend, who soothingly rubbed circles on his hip. “Pedri, what…?”
“I’m not proposing right now, don’t worry. I’m just announcing it. For the future.” Smiling, he kissed his forehead once more before pulling away from him.
“Okay, boys. Let’s go! We do have matches to win,” Flick interrupted their moment, which made Pedri go back to the others, who were already continuing their exercises.
“Yes!” Pablo quickly called after him, prompting Pedri to turn around again. He looked at him with wide eyes, and Pablo had to grin broadly. Stupid Pedri, who thought he could walk away without an answer. “My answer would be yes. For the future.”
For a few moments, they simply smiled at each other, then Flick more or less discreetly cleared his throat, which brought Pedri back to the present. While his boyfriend now really rejoined the group, Pablo sat down on one of the cool boxes.
He would most certainly never want to be injured again, but if this was the reward he received for fighting through an injury, he would at least endure it.