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you won't remember all my champagne problems

Summary:

One for the money, two for the show
I never was ready, so I watch you go

If he had known what he was losing by making Fernando wait, would it have made a difference? Could he have been someone different then if he'd known it would end like this?

And did he really want to know the answer?

Notes:

I'm so happy Spain won today, have some angsty Sernando mpreg to celebrate.

Couldn't do it without you, thelimitsofthe_sea, my forever beta reader and favourite audience.

CW: brief mention of miscarriage.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Sergio leaned against the balcony railing, looking out at the city lights and dangling a whisky glass from his fingertips.

Behind him, the sound of happy laughter and clinking glasses spilled out from the private room of a swanky downtown Madrid restaurant.

Fernando and Stevie were only in Spain for a few days. Throwing an early holiday party was a chance to see everyone in one place, before they returned to England and Fernando was too far along in his pregnancy to fly.

Sergio gritted his teeth. They were bad enough to be around at the best of times, Stevie’s gaze always on Fernando like he was the fucking sun and Fer looking shyly pleased to be the epicentre of someone’s attention. Now it was ratcheted up to eleven. Stevie’s hand was almost constantly resting on Fernando's lower back, protective and possessive, and every look they shared was their own private bubble of joy and breathless anticipation.

Sergio had done his best to keep a smile pasted on his face all evening. Fernando had lit up when he saw him and Sergio felt a pang of guilt that he had been keeping him at a distance ever since he and Stevie had announced they were having a baby. He was reminded that it was necessary, though, when Fer had hugged him. The feel of his body in Sergio’s arms, so different now but always familiar, sent a pang through him that never seemed to lessen every time he had to let Fernando go.

“Thought I might find you out here.” Iker joined him at the railing, his own drink in hand.

“Needed a breather,” Sergio said neutrally, fooling neither of them.

Iker took a sip of wine and let the silence hang out for a second.

“It's good to be all together again,” he said. “We never seem to find the time usually at this time of year.”

“Hm,” Sergio said noncommittally.

“How are you holding up?” Iker clearly wasn’t going to let him out of this conversation Sergio desperately didn’t want to have.

“I am fine, why wouldn’t I be fine,” he lies, badly.

Iker just gave him a look.

“Look, maybe I was a little surprised when Fer told us he was having a kid. Like, really, now?

“I’m really happy for him, for them both,” Iker takes another sip from his wine glass. “And as captain, Fer has my full support.”

“Euros are in less than a year, he should be thinking about that,” Sergio pointed out. “We all want to win, show that it wasn’t just a one-time thing, and he is taking time off now?”

Iker actually rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend this is about football,” he said. “And don’t be a bitch about it. A bunch of us have kids, it was just easier for us because we didn’t have to choose.”

Sergio couldn’t hold his gaze. “You’re really going to begrudge Fer for trying to have a family and a career too?” Iker continued. “Why don’t you join the fucking sports media, tell him he’s a disgrace and should retire now?”

His face burning with shame, Sergio hung his head. “I don’t think that.”

Iker crossed his arms. “Then get your fucking shit together.”

Easier said than done, when the past just kept haunting him. He had thought he had forever to decide what he wanted outside of football, arrogant in the way only the young are that the world would just stay the same while he took his time growing up.

If he had known what he was losing by making Fernando wait, never giving him the relationship he really wanted, would it have made a difference? Could he have been someone different then if he'd known it would end like this?

And did he really want to know the answer?

There had been an utter lack of indecision in Fernando’s voice when he’d called Sergio to tell him that he and Stevie were expecting a child. Only a quiet certainty, like an unplanned pregnancy during the high point of his career wasn’t a disaster, but exactly what was meant to be.

And of course, Stevie – Steven fucking Gerrard – did the right thing like it was easy. The engagement band on Fernando’s hand looked like it belonged there, coming as naturally as the glowing pregnancy flush that left him more beautiful than Sergio could handle.

Iker’s tone became sharper. “Come on, Sese, this isn’t fair. You don’t get to sulk because you only want him now.”

Sergio hung his head. “You think I don’t know that? I know I have to live with the fact I was too young and stupid.” He took a breath, “It’s just that…”

Iker waited.

“It’s just that… when it was me, I let him down.” Segio covered his face with his hand. He didn't dare look at Iker. “I was only twenty, I told him I wouldn’t be involved, I couldn’t.”

He could hear Iker inhale. “I didn’t know,” he said eventually.

“I told him it would ruin my life,” Sergio admitted in a whisper.

“So he chose not to keep it?”

He shook his head. “It was a miscarriage. I don’t know what he decided, if he had even decided yet.”

They stood there, in the dark. The noise of the party was as loud as ever, but it felt a hundred miles away now.

“He must love you a lot,” Iker said.

Sergio looked at him, shocked. Iker met his eyes.

“To forgive you. Fer loves you so much. He’s been missing you, and you’ve just been hiding.”

“You think I don’t regret that I wasn't ready then? That I don’t know that’s why I lost him?” Sergio bit out angrily. “This is the best I can do.”

“You’re still not ready,” Iker said calmly. “If you were, you’d be brave enough to be happy for him.”

Sergio didn’t have anything to say to that.

Iker clapped his shoulder with a bracing hand before turning away.

Sergio stood still for a moment, gripping the railing hard.

He wasn’t brave enough. He never would be. But after draining the rest of his glass, he walked back towards the light and the noise and the voices, a smile on his face again.

Notes:

The first fic I have written and finished in like a decade, everything else on my account is old, omg.