Chapter Text
Kun is never nervous.
He's known for being jovial and loud and non-carish- it's what draws people to him, what makes him likeable, what makes him endearing. He is confident, he is charismatic, his eyes sparkle and he's never afraid to speak his mind.
So, his first dinner at the U20 camp canteen is no big deal. Though most of the kids don't know him, that's never been a problem- he could choose to sit alone at a table for all it was worth and ten minutes later he would be surrounded by people.
It was just the way he is. He draws people in.
What unnerves Kun a little bit, though, is that everybody seems so much older than him. He's sixteen, and he's not small, but it still unnerves him a little bit. Like he needs to prove he's good enough to these guys.
Kun's stomach rumbles.
Proving himself shouldn't be a problem, but that comes after dinner.
The canteen is already mostly full when he enters; he grabs a plate and piles it with food (pasta, yay) before looking around for a place to sit. All the tables are occupied by people sitting in their training groups (it's not an obligation, but Kun supposes that you do get used to the people you spend your waking hours with).
He looks around for somewhere to sit (he doesn't know his training group yet) when someone shouts behind him.
"Kun! Hey!"
He turns to see the nice scrawny guy he met in the corridor that morning- what was his name? Angel?- waving at him. He smiles back and advances towards the table, which is full of kids who look a little less intimidating than the rest. Perhaps because they're around his age.
"Come sit with us," Angel says.
Kun flashes his most winning smile at the entire table before sitting down at the edge of the bench. "Thanks."
"What's your name?" Someone asks.
"Sergio Agüero, but you can call me Kun," he replies, before attacking his pasta. "What about you guys?"
They introduce themselves one by one- there's Masche and Higuain and a bunch of names that Kun is too hungry to pay attention to but is sure that he'll remember them in due time. He nods along between mouthfuls of pasta.
"And you must know who this is!" Angel says, somewhat proudly, looking at the guy who's sitting beside him.
The said guy is rather small and shrinks away at the obvious pride in Angel's voice. He looks up to offer Kun a small smile, then looks at his plate almost immediately.
Kun is feeling completely clueless.
The guy shrinks away even more at Kun's silence and glares at Angel, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else but there.
Kun feels utterly foolish as he asks, "What's your name?"
"Lionel."
Kun searches his brain for any recognition. There's none.
He tries again. "What's your last name?"
"Messi."
Nothing.
"Sorry, what?"
"Messi."
And he's still completely bewildered, because he's never heard of a Lionel Messi, and he's wondering if the said Lionel Messi is offended at not being recognised.
"Sorry, I don't-"
And Lionel Messi's face splits into a wide smile. "Don't worry about it, I haven't heard of you either."
"Oh." Kun lets out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. "I'm Sergio Agüero. Kun Agüero, actually."
Then he realised that he's already said that, and mentally facepalms himself.
"You can call me Leo."
Kun nods. After a minute, all the boys go back to talking about Nike shoes, and Kun joins in enthusiastically.