Archive of Our Own

The Mediterranean was still quiet at eight in the morning. Sunlight filtered lazily through the half-open linen curtains, painting golden stripes across the rumpled duvet and the wooden floor. Somewhere outside, waves broke softly against the rocks below the villa, the hidden place where Eric and Joan had chosen to spend their holiday after the World Cup and all the celebrations, hiding from everyone, just the two of them in this little peaceful gem on the Costa Brava. 

There were no beach bars, no loud music, no noisy neighbours.

No cameras. No teammates. No one asking for another picture or another interview.

Just a quiet corner of their favourite coast where, for a little while, they could simply be Eric and Joan.

It was quiet in a way neither of them had experienced for months. Not the silence of an empty stadium before kick-off, not the silence of a hotel room the night before an important match. Only the rhythm of the waves, the scent of salt lingering in the warm air, and enough privacy to forget, if only for a little while, that they were two of the most recognisable footballers in Spain.

The bedroom looked almost untouched. They arrived the day before late in the evening and they didn’t even bother to fully unpack their suitcase; they had immediately gone to the private beach they have in front of the house and they called it a night very early.

And Joan had every intention of sleeping for at least another two or three hours.

Unfortunately, the bright blue glow illuminating the room had other plans.

"Eric."

"Hm?"

A pause.

"Eric."

"What?"

Joan didn't even bother opening his eyes. "It's eight in the morning."

Lying comfortably against the headboard, Eric barely looked up. The light from his phone reflected on his face as he lazily scrolled with his thumb.

"I know, Joanet. I have a clock on my phone."

Joan let out a long, exhausted sigh.

"And why on earth are you reading other teams' squad lists?"

Eric frowned, genuinely confused by the question. "Why not?"

Joan cracked one eye open just enough to catch a glimpse of the screen.

"Santander?" he mumbled. "Really?"

Eric shrugged. “I like to stay informed."

Joan groaned dramatically before burying his face deeper into the pillow, pulling part of the duvet over his head in a desperate attempt to escape both the sunlight and his football-obsessed boyfriend.

"Eric, we're supposed to be on holiday."

"We are."

"We're supposed to be relaxing."

"I am relaxed."

Joan rolled onto his side, finally looking at him properly.

"You have an addiction to that phone! You're lying in bed at eight in the morning on holiday reading Racing Santander's friendly matches’ schedule..."

Eric looked genuinely puzzled. "So?"

Joan simply stared at him for a long second. "We should be celebrating becoming world champions."

"That's what we did last night. And the night before, and back in Madrid, in New Yor-"

"Okay, yeah, I get it, fair point. Don't say it like it was a traumatic experience though." Joan rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake himself up enough to argue properly. "But I mean by enjoying a very well-deserved holiday after ten months of travelling around Europe and North America."

"It wasn't that bad, come on."

Joan blinked.

"With me. Who actually knows how to rest and not think about football every single minute of my life." He pointed at himself dramatically. "Me, who also happens to be your boyfriend."

That finally made Eric look up from his phone. "...I'm also very aware of that."

Without another word, Joan reached across the bed, effortlessly plucked the phone out of Eric's hands and placed it on his own bedside table, well out of reach.

"Good."

Eric frowned immediately. "Hey."

"You're off duty for the entire holiday."

"But I'm literally just reading."

"You're scouting a team that got promoted from Segunda División before breakfast. In July." Joan crossed his arms triumphantly. "I'm not going to sit here and watch you spend our very first summer holiday as a couple constantly checking your phone for information that is absolutely not vital."

Eric mirrored Joan's posture, crossing his own arms against his chest.

"And who decided what's considered vital information?"

Joan didn't hesitate for a second. "Me."

Eric snorted. "You don't have that authority."

"I absolutely do."

"No, you don't."

"I do because I'm trying to save your brain."

"My brain doesn't need saving."

"It absolutely does. Nobody is looking for you at eight o'clock in the morning, especially when everyone is very aware you are on holiday.”

“Hansi could.”

“You saw him two days ago, he loves you but not that much, amor”. 

“Then maybe my mum.”

Joan smiled. "Your mum texted me yesterday."

Eric stared at him, wide-eyed. "...She did?"

"She literally wrote: 'Please make sure he actually relaxes'. Alicia did it too but she was much more intimidating about it, she sounded more like a threat than a suggestion and they said that they are gonna call me if there are some kind of emergency."

Eric couldn't help smiling, he could clearly imagine Alicia doing something like this.

Joan pointed an accusing finger at him. "Let's make a deal."

"I'm listening."

"One hour."

"...One hour?"

"One hour every evening."

Eric looked horrified. "I can't even catch up with all the sports I follow in one hour."

Joan pretended to think about it. “Hmm, fine."

Eric smiled victoriously.

"One hour in the evening..." Joan continued, "...and another hour during my afternoon nap."

Eric raised an eyebrow. "And since when are your naps only an hour long?"

Joan narrowed his eyes. "Ooh, we're funny this morning, aren't we?"

"I'm always funny."

"It's eight in the morning, I'm on holiday, and I'd like to sleep next to my annoying boyfriend for at least another three hours." Joan yawned, his voice still rough with sleep. "Please don't ruin my mood and get some more sleep you too"

"But I'm already awa-"

"We'll continue this argument over breakfast. Not that there’s something to argue about, since you’re wrong and I’m right."

Before Eric had time to protest again, Joan reached for his wrist, gently tugging him back down onto the mattress until Eric was lying beside him instead of sitting against the headboard.

Eric let himself fall back onto the mattress with an exaggerated sigh. "You're impossible."

"I've been told."

Joan smiled without opening his eyes and then, without asking, he wrapped an arm around Eric’s waist and rested his forehead against Eric's shoulder, hiding his face from the morning light.

"Now," he mumbled, already sounding half-asleep again, "hug me..."

Eric laughed quietly.

"...and sleep."

"I'm not sleepy."

"I wasn't asking."

Eric glanced toward his abandoned phone on the bedside table.

Then back at Joan, who was already drifting off again, his breathing growing slower against his chest. He smiled to himself. Maybe pre-season friendly games could wait another couple of hours.

Carefully, he slid one arm around Joan's shoulders and pulled him a little closer beneath the sheets.

"...Only because you asked nicely."

Joan smiled without opening his eyes. "I didn't."

"Not even a little."

"Nope."

Eric left a quick kiss on Joan’s hair and rested his chin lightly against the top of Joan's head. Outside, the sea kept rolling gently against the shore. For once, nothing needed his attention. At least until breakfast.

The second time Joan woke up the room felt different. Quiet. Too quiet. He didn’t see any blue lights coming from the other side of the bed. For one glorious second, Joan thought he'd actually won and maybe Eric had gone back to sleep, maybe he'd finally listened. 

He reached lazily across the mattress, and the only thing he touched was an abandoned pillow and cold sheets. Eric definitely wasn’t sleeping beside him and no sounds came from the en suite bathroom. 

The good thing was Eric’s phone was still on the bedside table, so he actually didn’t break their deal. (Not yet.) 

Joan groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "I love him," he mumbled to the empty room. "But he's draining me."

Joan rummaged through his suitcase, barely awake, until his fingers found the first T-shirt he could grab. He didn’t even bother checking whose it was or what it looked like. He just pulled it over his head, ran a hand through his messy hair, and left the bedroom with slow, sleepy steps. 

For a moment, he just stood there in the hallway, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The light was pouring through the large windows, painting the wooden floors in warm golden shades. Outside, the only noise he could hear is the faint sound of the sea, nothing else.

Three days had passed since the celebrations, but somehow it felt like they were still stuck in that moment — between the music, the champagne, the endless hugs, and the feeling that they had finally reached the end of a long, exhausting season in the best way possible.
Not even in his wildest dreams would he have imagined this outcome. Spanish super cup champions, La Liga champions, World cup champions in less than a year. It still feels surreal. 

Joan leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, where he found Eric. More surreal than winning any single trophy of the season was doing it together with his boyfriend. The same boyfriend who is now sitting at the counter, wearing glasses, his hair slightly messy, and one of Joan’s T-shirts hanging loosely over his body. He looked nothing like the confident footballer everyone saw on the pitch. He looked soft. Comfortable.
In front of him was a mug of coffee and a small box from the small restaurant by the sea they had gone to the night before.

“Are you seriously wearing my shirt?” he asked, his voice still rough from sleep.

Eric looked up, blinking behind his glasses and he glanced down at the shirt and shrugged. “You mean the one that was on my side of the room?” 

“It was not on your side of the room.”

“It was closer to me.”

“That doesn’t make it yours.”

Eric smiled faintly and took another sip of coffee. “Good morning to you too.”

Joan walked closer, still half asleep, leaned in to press a quick kiss to Eric’s lips, and then looked at the food on the counter.

“That’s breakfast?”

Eric followed his gaze. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You’re eating leftover cheesecake for breakfast.”

“It’s a very good cake.”

“It’s from last night.”

“Exactly, it tastes even better.”

"You're the only professional athlete I know who just won a World Cup and decided that cake is a balanced breakfast."

“There's fruit in it."

Joan took a look at the slice of cake. " There are five blueberries.”

“Last time I checked, blueberries are fruit. Now stop complaining and take this.” Eric handed Joan a mug full of coffee, and Joan started to sip it, while he watched Eric devour his favourite cheesecake. 

For a while, neither of them said much, they just sat there in the kitchen, trying to catch some quiet moments after the frenetic days since the final. 

Eventually, Joan looked around the room. “This place is beautiful.”

Eric followed his gaze. “Yeah. I still can’t believe we’re here after the craziest month of our lives.”

The house was bigger than they needed, with open spaces filled with sunlight everywhere, huge windows, and a giant terrace and a beautiful pool overlooking the landscape.
The villa itself was still unfamiliar in that strange, temporary way you only feel when you’re in a new place on holiday. A friend from the team had suggested it, insisting it was “the kind of place where you forget what day it is,” and now Joan understood exactly what he meant. They craved some privacy but at the same time a place where they could totally be themselves.

Eric smiled. “We could go down to the beach later, a month in the U.S. made me homesick for my favourite sea in the world.”

Joan chuckled. “That sounds good.”

“And we absolutely need to do some grocery shopping, the fridge is empty and we can’t survive a week on coffee, unfortunately.” Eric added.

It was Eric who brought up the topic first. “So… about my phone.”

Joan looked up from the counter. “What about it?”

“You weren’t actually serious about my phone time, were you? You only said it because you wanted to sleep.”

“Oh no, honey. I was deadly serious. And deadly sleepy.”

Eric gave him a suspicious look. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Eric leaned against the kitchen counter, folding his arms. “I thought you just wanted me to put it down because you were tired.”

“I was tired and I was also very serious.”

Eric smiled faintly.

Joan took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “I don't want you to misunderstand me, though.”

“About what?”

“The phone thing.”

Eric's expression softened slightly. “I know you're not trying to control me.”

“I really don't want to.” Joan put his mug down. “I don't want to tell you when you can use your phone. It's yours. If you want to answer a message, answer it. If someone calls you, pick up. If you want to check something or watch something, whatever… I'm not going to stop you. But you are literally glued to that thing.”

Eric laughed under his breath. “I'm not.”

“You are.”

“I'm really not.”

Joan gave him a look. “Eric, yesterday you checked it while you were brushing your teeth.”

“That was one time.”

“And while we refuelled at the gas station.”

“I was checking something.”

“And last night, you were lying in bed next to me scrolling through football news at two in the morning.”

Eric opened his mouth.

Joan raised a finger. “Don't.”

Eric closed it again. “You’re making it sound worse than it is.”

“I'm really not.” Joan smiled, but his voice became softer. “You do it without even noticing.”

Eric looked down.

“When there's silence, you pick it up. When you're waiting for something, you pick it up. When you don't know what to do, you pick it up. And sometimes you're sitting right next to me and you're still somewhere else because you're looking at that screen and I’m basically talking to a brick wall. It's annoying…”

Eric was quiet.

Joan reached out and gently touched his hand. “And I don't care about the phone itself. I care about you actually being here and present.”

Eric looked at him. “I am here.”

“I know, amor” Joan's thumb brushed lightly over his skin. “But I think you need a break.”

Eric sighed, looking down at their hands. “It's just… habit.”

“I know.”

“And I like knowing what's going on.”

“With football.”

“With everything.” Eric clarified.

Joan smiled slightly. “You’re allowed not to know what's going on for a few hours.”

Eric gave a small laugh. “That sounds terrifying.”

“I know. “Joan squeezed his hand gently. “You've spent all the season having to know everything. Who you're playing, who's injured, what the manager said, what people are saying, what the next match is, what the schedule is…” He paused. “You don't have to do that here.”

Eric looked at him for a few seconds. “What if something happens?”

“Then you'll find out later.”

“What if I miss something important?”

“Then you'll deal with it when you find out.”

“And if someone needs me?”

“Then they'll call you.”

Eric smiled. “You've thought this through.”

“Of course I have.”

“Did you make a whole presentation about it?”

“Just one slide was enough.”

Eric laughed.

Joan smiled too, but his expression softened again. “I'm not asking you to give up your phone. I'm asking you to give us some time without it.”

Eric's smile faded slightly. “Us?”

“Yeah. Us.” Joan moved a little closer. “We finally have a few days where nobody needs anything from us. No training. No matches. No airports. No teammates knocking on the door at the least opportune time. No interviews. No travelling from one place to another.” He paused; his fingers still loosely intertwined with Eric's. “No one is watching us.”

Joan's voice was softer now. “I want to wake up next to you and actually stay there for a while. I want to spend half the morning in bed doing absolutely nothing, just holding you, tangled up with you under the sheets, not moving unless we have to. I’d probably just keep kissing you the whole time, like I wouldn’t be able to stop myself, just wanna kiss you so much all morning, slow and lazily until you get annoyed at me. I want to stay like that with you, while you scratch my back, my face buried in your neck, just breathing you in and forgetting there’s anything else outside that room. I want to go to the beach and lie next to you until we're too hot, sand sticking to our skin, your head on my chest while we talk about nothing, then jump in the water together and come back up laughing, pushing your wet hair out of your face. I want to spend the whole afternoon there with you, swimming out just far enough that we can float side by side, stealing kisses between waves, splashing each other until one of us gives up. Then we go back to the shore, dry off in the sun, and lie on the towels with your legs tangled with mine while I pretend not to notice you stealing all the shade. I want to sit by the pool with you, fall asleep on your shoulder, listen to you complain about the heat, and then probably end up dragging you into the water just to annoy you, holding you under the surface for a second before pulling you right back into me, arms around your waist, refusing to let go. We should get one of those ridiculous inflatable flamingos for the pool, too. I want to find the biggest one they have, climb onto it with you, and spend the time trying not to fall off while you complain that there’s no room for both of us. And when we inevitably end up in the water, I’ll just pull you close and keep you there, floating with you until the sun starts to go down”

Eric smiled, because he could imagine all of this immediately in his head... And he was surprised by the level of detail Joan just gave him. For someone who never plans anything more than 30 minutes in advance it’s quite impressive.

Joan sighed, locked eyes with Eric. “I just want us to have a few days where we're not interrupted by everything else.”

Eric looked down at their hands.

“Just us.”

“Just us.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything, Joan gently tugged on Eric's hand, bringing him a little closer.

“We don't get many chances to be normal.”

Eric looked up.

“Normal?”

“You know what I mean. Just two boyfriends on holiday. Sleeping in, eating terrible breakfast, going to the beach, staying in the pool for hours…”

“Arguing over what we're having for dinner.”

“Obviously.”

“Stealing each other's clothes.”

“You're already doing that.”

Eric looked down at Joan's T-shirt he was wearing and smiled. “Fair.”

Joan's hand slid from Eric's wrist to his waist, pulling him into a loose embrace. “And being annoying to each other.”

“You're already very good at that.” Eric said. 

“Thank you.”

“That wasn't a compliment.”

“I'll take it anyway.”

Eric rested his chin briefly on Joan's shoulder, his arms settling around his waist.

“Okay,” he murmured. “I'll try.”

Joan hugged him a little tighter.

“You don't have to be 100% focused on football or the world outside, but if you really want to check something, check it. I'm not going to take your phone away.”

“I know.”

“I just want you here with me.”

Eric pulled back just enough to look at him. “I am.”

Joan smiled. “Good.”

There was a brief silence, then Eric suddenly frowned. “What if I want to listen to some music?”

Joan stared at him for a second before a mischievous smile appeared on his face. “You’ll use my phone. Clearly, one of the best perks of being a Barcelona player is the free Spotify subscription, no?”

Eric laughed. “Oh, so that's why you switched to the right side of Barcelona. Makes sense.”

“Yeah. Never cared about the sporting project.” Joan leaned closer, his smile widening. “And then they happened to have this Catalan defender, or midfielder, it depends. with those big hazel eyes behind his glasses and the prettiest smile in the world. Damn, he's so annoying. Can't stand him.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm-hmm. Can't believe I've had to share a locker room with him for so long without going completely insane.”

“Oh, poor you.”

“You know, somehow he even managed to make me his boyfriend.”

“How rude of him.”

“Yeah. It's terrible. Now I have to spend an entire holiday doing absolutely nothing with him. I honestly have no idea how I'm going to survive.”

Eric kept playing along, matching Joan's dramatic tone.  “You seem devastating about it.”

“Beach, pool, and even sharing a bed,” Joan continued dramatically. “And then he does this thing where he basically sticks to me like glue and refuses to let me go. He looks at me with those puppy eyes, and suddenly I can't say no to him.”

Eric shook his head, laughing. “Terrible.”

“Absolutely terrible.”

“You're an idiot.”

“Maybe.” Joan leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Eric's mouth. “But that didn’t stop you from dating me for months.”

Eric turned his head slightly and caught his lips in another quick kiss. “Unfortunately.”

Joan smiled against his lips. “Liar.”

Late morning found them at the little private beach they had access to. They had quickly gone grocery shopping, just to grab enough food to survive for a couple of days and, most importantly, to get Joan his pink inflatable flamingo. 

A narrow sandy path led down from the villa, winding between low bushes and pale rocks before opening onto the small stretch of beach. Luckily it was tucked away from the busier parts of the coast and it felt almost completely secluded. The sand was fine and warm beneath their feet, already heated by the late-morning sun, and the sea was only a few steps away. 

The water was an almost impossible shade of blue, clear enough that they could see the pale patches of sand beneath the surface near the shore. Further out, the sunlight scattered across the small waves like thousands of tiny flashes of silver. There was barely any wind, just a warm breeze carrying the salty smell of the Mediterranean and the occasional distant cry of seagulls wheeling overhead.

They spread their towels on the warm sand and dropped their bags beside them. Joan took off his shirt and folded it carelessly on top of his bag, while Eric kicked off his flip-flops and stood for a moment with his feet sinking slightly into the sand.

“This is nice,” Eric said.

Joan looked out at the water. “Yeah.”

“Very nice.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I think I'm still recovering from the fact that we're actually on holiday and I’m not surrounded by our teenagers or Basque teammates celebrating in their own way”

Joan smiled, if only walls could talk, they would tell endless stories about the last couple of days and all the secrets that had been shared behind closed doors.

They had spent the previous few days surrounded by noise, people and celebrations. Even now, their bodies seemed to remember it: the tiredness in their limbs, the slight heaviness behind their eyes, the strange feeling that they should be somewhere else doing something.

Instead, there was only the sea in front of them. And nowhere they needed to be.

Joan immediately reached for his book, The Eight Mountains. He had been meaning to read it for a while, ever since someone had recommended it to him, partly because of the story itself and partly because of the mountains that filled every page: the valleys, the forests, the snow-covered peaks and the quiet, isolated paths between them.

He loved the mountains. He had been planning to spend a few days hiking before the start of the season, but he had postponed the trip to stay with Eric instead. It wasn't something he regretted, not really. He wanted to be there with him, even if it meant putting off the solitude and the long walks he had been looking forward to.

Still, there was something bittersweet about reading The Eight Mountains on the beach. The book was beautiful, but it was also sad, filled with distance, loss and the kind of silence that could settle between people who had each other but didn't always know how to remain close. The story's melancholy seemed almost out of place beneath the bright sky and beside the glittering sea, yet Joan found himself drawn into it, turning the pages while the sound of the waves replaced the wind moving through the mountain trees. He found out they even made a movie based on the novel, so maybe he could suggest Eric to watch it together one of these nights. Anything to distract his boyfriend and stop that big brain of his from thinking about football.

Eric settled down beside him, sunglasses on, one arm behind his head. He lasted approximately ten minutes before shifting closer.

Joan didn't look up. “Eric.”

“What?”

“Stop moving.”

“I'm not moving, I'm getting more comfortable.”

“You have a big towel for yourself and you're moving onto mine.”

Eric smiled innocently. “Your towel is nicer.”

Joan finally looked at him, trying to hide a smile.

“You're unbelievable.”

“I know. “He moved a little closer anyway, until his shoulder was pressed against Joan's.

Joan sighed but didn't move away. Instead, he reached over and noticed that Eric hadn't spread the sunscreen properly across one side of his face. He gently rubbed it in with his fingertips, smoothing the white streak across Eric's cheek.

Eric opened one eye and grinned.

“What?”

“You looked like you were about to lose a very one-sided battle against the sun.”

Eric laughed and turned his face slightly toward him. “I prefer it when you help me put sunscreen on."

“Oh, so that's why you invited me to spend this holiday with you?”

“Obviously.”

“I thought it was because you like me.”

“That too.”

Joan laughed softly, continuing to spread the sunscreen over Eric's cheek and down towards his jaw.

“Good to know I've been reduced to free sunscreen application.”

“You're much more than that”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You are also tall enough to help me reach the highest shelf at the supermarket.”

“Wow. I'm really getting a lot out of this relationship.” Joan shook his head, but he couldn't stop smiling as he finished rubbing in the sunscreen. “There.”

Eric turned his face towards him. “Perfect?”

“Perfect.”

“See? I knew bringing you here was a good idea.”

Joan gave him a playful shove on the shoulder. “You're ridiculous.”

Eric leaned closer, brushing a quick kiss against Joan's cheek before settling back onto his towel.

Joan stared at him for a second. “That's not part of the sunscreen service.”

“It is now.

For a few minutes, they stayed like that. Joan read, Eric rested beside him, their shoulders touching beneath the warm sun. Eventually, Eric's hand found Joan's on the towel. He lazily intertwined their fingers without opening his eyes.

Joan glanced down at their hands. He smiled.

This was exactly what he had wanted.

No training. No matches. No schedules. No interviews. No teammates.

Just the two of them.

He went back to reading, his thumb occasionally brushing over the back of Eric's hand.

After a while, Eric shifted again, this time resting his head against Joan's shoulder.

Joan lowered his book slightly.

“You're getting very comfortable.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Are you even awake?”

“Barely.”

Joan smiled and resumed reading, his free hand slowly moving into Eric's hair.

He gently ran his fingers through it, absent-mindedly scratching his scalp every now and then.

Eric relaxed further against him. “That's nice,” he murmured.

“You're using me as a pillow.”

“That's what boyfriends are for.”

Joan smiled. “Apparently.”

The sea continued moving gently in front of them, the horizon stretching in a clean blue line beneath the cloudless sky. Somewhere farther along the coast, music played faintly from another beach, so distant that it blended almost completely with the sound of the waves.

Neither of them said anything for a while.

Eric's breathing became slower, his body growing heavier against Joan's side.

Joan glanced down at him. “You’re falling asleep.”

“No, I'm not.”

“You are.”

“I'm resting my eyes.”

“Of course you are.”

Eric smiled faintly without opening his eyes, while Joan shook his head, amused, and continued stroking his hair.

The book remained steady in Joan's hand. He shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable, keeping his shoulder beneath Eric's head while continuing to read. Every so often, his fingers moved through Eric's hair, and Eric responded with a quiet, contented hum.

Joan glanced down at him again, smiling at the peaceful expression on his face.

“Don't get too comfortable,” he murmured.

Eric didn't open his eyes. “Too late.”

Joan laughed softly and turned another page.

The waves kept rolling onto the shore, slow and rhythmic, while Eric rested against him beneath the warm sun. Joan stayed awake, reading with one hand and gently holding Eric's with the other, perfectly content to let the late morning pass without rushing it.

For once, neither of them cared about the time and Eric didn’t care about that damn phone.

By the time they finally decided to leave the beach, the sun was already high overhead.

Neither of them had any idea how long they had been there. Joan's book was still open beside him, a few grains of sand caught between the pages, and Eric looked almost as sleepy as he had when they first arrived.
They slowly gathered their things and made their way back up to the villa, walking barefoot along the warm path. 

They had a late lunch on the terrace, keeping it simple because neither of them had much energy for cooking. They ate slowly, talking about nothing in particular, occasionally stealing food from each other's plates. 

The hottest part of the afternoon settled over the villa, and the rooms became quiet and dim behind the closed shutters. They spent some time lying on the bed, neither of them really sleeping, just enjoying the coolness of the room after the heat outside. They simply lay there, close enough that their legs were tangled together, occasionally exchanging a few quiet words before falling silent again. 

At some point, Eric's hand found Joan's beneath the sheets, their fingers intertwined automatically.

Joan looked down at their hands. It was such a small thing. They did it all the time without thinking, but there had been so many moments lately when even small things like this had been difficult. Training camps. Matches. Travelling. Teammates. Interviews. People constantly around them. Days that belonged to everyone else before they belonged to themselves. 

But now no one was waiting for them or asking anything from them.

Joan turned his head towards Eric.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Eric smiled. “You're staring. What happens?”

Joan shrugged. “I don't know. I just…” He paused. “It's nice. I know it’s stupid but there’s no other words to describe the feeling.”

Eric's expression softened. “Yeah.”

Joan squeezed his hand. “I don't think we've had this in a while.”

“This?”

“Just… time.”

Eric looked at him for a moment before nodding. Neither of them needed to explain it further.

Eventually, Eric rolled onto his back and looked at Joan.

“Pool?”

Joan turned his head towards him.

“Pool.”

They changed into their swimming clothes and headed outside again; the pool was almost completely surrounded by greenery, tucked into a quiet corner of the property. The water was bright blue beneath the sun, its surface barely moving except where a light breeze disturbed it. 

Joan dropped his hat beside one of the loungers; Eric walked straight towards the pool.

“You're not even going to wait?”

“Nope.”

He jumped in.

Water splashed everywhere, and Joan stared at him. “Eric!”

Eric surfaced, pushing his wet hair away from his forehead, already laughing.

“What?”

“You could have warned me.”

“You were standing too close, not my fault”

Joan rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Eric held out his hand. “Come here.”

“No.”

“Joan.”

“No.”

Eric smiled. “Come on.”

Joan crossed his arms. “You’re going to pull me in.”

“I would never.”

“You absolutely would.”

Eric's smile widened. “Maybe.”

Joan shook his head, but he was already smiling. He stepped closer to the edge. “Don't.”

“I haven't done anything.”

“You're looking at me like you're about to do something.”

“I just want my boyfriend in the pool.”

Joan sighed dramatically. “Fine.”

He reached for Eric's hand and the second their fingers touched, Eric tugged. Joan yelped as he stumbled forward, catching himself before falling completely into the water.

“Eric!”

Eric was laughing so hard he could barely keep himself upright. “You said you trusted me.”

“I didn’t!”

Joan grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to the edge. “Now you're going to pay for that.”

Eric's laughter stopped. “Wait.” Too late.

The splash hit Eric directly in the face and for a moment, they just stared at each other.

Then Eric laughed again.

“You're evil.”

“You started it.”

Eric swam closer until there was barely any space between them. “I did.”

Joan smiled. “And?”

“And I'm going to finish it.” He wrapped an arm around Joan's waist and pulled him closer. Joan automatically put his hands on Eric's shoulders, laughing as he tried to push him away. “Eric, stop.”

“You're the one who splashed me in the face”

“Because you pulled me!”

“And now you're here.”

“Yes, and—”

Eric interrupted him by pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Joan stopped talking.

Eric smiled. “Problem?”

Joan tried to look annoyed. “Maybe.”

“Only maybe?”

Joan shook his head, unable to hide his smile. “You're impossible.”

Eric rested his forehead against Joan's. “And yet.”

“And yet what?”

“You are still here”

Behind them, the inflatable flamingo slowly drifted across the pool. Joan glanced over Eric's shoulder.

“Look.”

Eric turned, the flamingo was floating peacefully in the middle of the pool. Eric stared at it for a moment. “I hate that thing already.”

“You haven't even met him properly.”

“I'm not meeting him.”

“His name is Jordi.”

Eric looked at him. “You named the flamingo?”

“Obviously.”

“And you name him by the most important name in the whole Catalonia. Books, roses, lovers, and all those important things and then a flamingo. I would have understood if he was a dragon but a PINK FLAMINGO?” There was a pause. “I'm dating a five-year-old.”

Joan laughed and rested his head against Eric's shoulder. “Yeah.”

Eric tightened his arms around him. “Lucky me.”

Joan smiled against his skin. “Very.” 

Joan's hands moved slowly over Eric's shoulders, his fingers tracing the line of his neck before settling at the back of it. Eric's hands rested against his lower back, occasionally moving in slow, absent-minded circles.

There was something strangely comforting about being held in the water, everything around them seemed slower: the faint sound of the filter, the breeze moving through the trees, water shifting against the edge of the pool, Eric's breathing close to his ear.

Joan closed his eyes. He could feel Eric's thumb moving gently against his back.

“You're quiet,” Eric murmured.

“I'm thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

Joan smiled against his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Eric kissed the side of his head. “What are you thinking about?”

Joan was quiet for a few seconds. “Us.”

Eric's arms tightened slightly around him. “Good things, I hope.”

“Yeah.” Joan lifted his head. “I was just thinking about how weird it is that we finally get to do this.”

“Swim?”

“No.” He smiled. “This Just being here. With you. Without having to rush somewhere afterwards.”

Eric looked at him. Joan reached up and gently brushed some wet hair away from Eric's forehead. “We spend so much time together, but sometimes it doesn't feel like we're actually together.”

Eric's expression changed slightly. “I know what you mean.”

“Everything is always happening around us.” He paused, his fingers still resting against Eric's temple.

Eric leaned into his touch. “And now?”

Joan smiled. “Now you're just standing here holding me.”

Eric's mouth curved into a small smile. “I’m very good at that.”

“You are.” Joan's hand moved down from his hair to his cheek. He gently ran his thumb across Eric's cheekbone. Eric turned his face and pressed a kiss into the centre of his palm. Joan's smile softened and he started walking towards the edge of the pool.

Eric held out both hands. “Nooo where are you going, come here.” He said with those annoying puppy eyes.

Joan narrowed his eyes. “You're not pulling me in this time.”

“I learned my lesson.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. “Eric’s expression was completely innocent.

Joan hesitated before taking his hands and this time, Eric simply helped him step into the water. The moment Joan was in, though, Eric's hands stayed around his waist.

Joan raised an eyebrow “You're still holding me.”

“I'm making sure you don't slip.”

“We're standing in waist-deep water.”

“Exactly. Very dangerous.”

Joan laughed and rested his hands on Eric's shoulders. “You're an idiot.”

“I know. “Eric’s hands moved slightly around his waist, drawing him closer until their bodies were pressed together beneath the water while Joan's arms slipped naturally around his neck.

For a moment, neither of them said anything: the water moved gently around them, cool against their skin after the heat of the afternoon.

Eric leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to Joan's cheek. Then another, just beside the corner of his mouth.

Joan smiled. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“From what?”

“I don't know. Whatever you're planning.”

“I don't have a plan.”

“You always have a plan.”

Eric smiled and carressed Joan's cheek. “Maybe I just wanted to hold you.”

Joan's expression softened. “Oh.”

Eric rested his forehead against his. “Is that allowed?”

Joan smiled. “Yeah.”

His fingers moved slowly through Eric's wet hair, pushing it back from his face.

Eric closed his eyes for a second, leaning into the touch. “That feels nice.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“Because you always do that.”

Eric opened his eyes. “Do what?”

“Close your eyes whenever I touch your hair.”

“Maybe I like it.”

“You definitely like it.” Joan continued running his fingers through his hair, occasionally scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Don't stop.”

“I wasn't planning to.”

Eric's arms tightened around his waist, pulling him even closer. Joan rested his cheek against his shoulder again.

For a while, they simply stayed there. Joan could feel Eric's heartbeat beneath his cheek, steady and familiar.

He thought about all the places they had been together, all the crowded rooms and noisy celebrations, all the moments they had stolen in corridors and hotel rooms because there had always been somewhere else they were supposed to be.

And suddenly, this felt more precious than any of them.

Not because anything was happening - because nothing was – but the only fact that they were just there, together.

Eric gently kissed the top of his head. “You okay?”

Joan nodded. “Yeah.” A small smile appeared on his face. “I'm just really happy.”

Eric was quiet for a moment, then he kissed his temple again. “Me too.”

They remained wrapped around each other in the middle of the pool, the water moving gently around them.

Eventually, Joan pulled back just enough to look at him. “You're getting clingy.”

“You love it.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You don't have to, I just know, somehow.” Joan smiled and leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to his lips.

Eric immediately followed him when he pulled away, stealing another quick kiss. “Okay, okay, I'm not going anywhere” Joan laughed quietly and rested his head against Eric's shoulder.

Eric wrapped both arms around him, one hand settling comfortably against the middle of his back. His thumb moved absent-mindedly over Joan's skin, tracing small circles beneath the surface of the water.

Joan relaxed completely into him: just warm sunlight, cool water, and Eric's arms around him. 

A few metres away, Jordi drifted slowly past them, Joan looked over. “He's having a lovely time.”

Eric sighed. “I'm starting to think he likes the pool more than I do.”

“You're jealous.”

“Oh, I’m so jealous of a pink flamingo named Jordi, very jealous.” Eric said with a sarcastic tone.

Joan laughed and tightened his arms around Eric's neck. “I was just thinking that…” He hesitated. “I really like this version of us.”

Eric's expression softened. “What version?”

“The one where we're not trying to fit everything into whatever time we have left. “He glanced around the pool. “We don't have to leave in twenty minutes. We don't have to wake up early tomorrow. We don't have to worry about who's going to see us.” His fingers gently brushed over Eric's cheek. “We can just be us.”

Eric nodded. “Yeah.”

Joan smiled. “I think I could get used to that.”

“You should.”

“I might.”

“Good.”

Then Eric suddenly splashed him again. Joan stared at him and there was a beat of silence.

“You did not.”

Eric was already laughing. “I couldn't resist.”

Joan splashed him back.

Eric ducked. “Joan!”

“You started it!”

They were both laughing again: the quiet, reflective moment disappeared almost instantly, replaced by another round of splashing.

Joan tried to swim away; Eric caught him but Joan tried to hide behind Jordi. Eric followed before Joan grabbed the flamingo and pushed it towards him.

Eric pushed it back. “You're impossible!”

“You love me!”

“I do!” The answer came out so naturally that they both stopped and for a second, they just stared at each other.

For a second, neither of them moved. Joan still had one hand on Jordi's neck, Eric's hands were resting against the flamingo, and they simply stared at each other over it.

Eric's eyes widened as if he’d only just heard himself. “Oh, God.”

Joan blinked. “What?”

Eric immediately shook his head. “No, no, no. I didn't—”

Joan stared at him. “What?”

“I didn't mean to say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that.” Eric gestured helplessly between them. “Just blurting it out in the middle of—” He looked down at the flamingo. “This.”

Joan's lips twitched. “Eric—”

“No, seriously. I had it in my head. I was going to tell you properly.”

“You were?”

“Yes!” Eric ran a hand through his wet hair, clearly flustered. “I don't know when, but... not like this. Not as an answer to ‘you love me’ while we're fighting over Jordi.”

Joan laughed softly. “It’s okay.”

“But it's not how I wanted to say it.” Eric's voice cracked, and the panic in his face deepened. “I wasn't supposed to just blurt it out like that. I had to do it properly. I had to make it special, and now I've ruined it.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because—” Eric stopped, searching for words. “Because I wanted it to be... I don't know. Special.”

Joan moved closer. “Eric.”

“And now I just threw it at you without thinking, and—”

“Eric.”

“What if you think I didn't mean it?”

Joan's expression softened immediately. “I know you meant it.”

Eric looked at him. “You do?”

“Yeah.” Joan wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “You don’t have to say it perfectly, there isn’t a wrong or right way to say it.”

Eric was still visibly nervous. “But I wanted to, I really didn't mean to say it like this.”

Joan smiled. “You didn’t plan to say it, but you meant every word.”

Eric went quiet, that seemed to finally reach him.

Joan gently brushed his wet hair away from his forehead. “And I love you too.”

Eric stared at him for a moment, his shoulders finally dropping. “Are you sure?”

Joan smiled. “Completely.”

Eric still looked unconvinced. “No, you don’t have to say it back just because you feel bad about my timing.”

Joan's smile softened. “I know.”

“Or because I just panicked and made this whole thing weird.”

“You didn't make it weird.”

“I did. I said it while we were fighting over a flamingo.”

“That doesn't mean I don't mean it.”

Eric stared at him, his expression still tense. “You’re not just saying it because I said it first?”

Joan shook his head. “No.”

“Because you feel sorry for me?”

“No.”

“Because you think I need to hear it now?”

Joan reached for his hand beneath the water. “Eric, I'm saying it because it's true.”

Eric's face crumpled slightly with relief, though he still looked overwhelmed. “You’re sure?”

Joan squeezed his hand. “I’m sure.”

Eric let out a shaky breath and looked away. “Okay.”

Joan moved closer, resting his forehead against his. “You don't have to panic.”

“I think it's a little late for that.”

Joan laughed softly. “Then panic with me.”

Eric finally smiled. “Okay.”

“I love you,” he whispered. And this time, Eric didn't panic.

He pulled Joan into a tight hug, holding him as if he still needed to make sure he was really there while he let out a shaky laugh. “God, I really fucked that up.”

Joan laughed against his shoulder. “You really didn't.”

“I definitely did.”

“You didn't.”

Eric held him even tighter. “Promise?”

Joan smiled and pulled him a little closer. “Promise. And for the record, I like this version better.”

Eric let out another laugh, finally relaxing against him. “Even with Jordi?”

“Especially with Jordi.”

Eric glanced at the flamingo, then buried his face against Joan’s shoulder. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Great.”

Joan kissed his temple. “I love you.”

Eric smiled against his shoulder. “I love you too.”

The afternoon stretched around them, the water moved gently, the sun warmed their shoulders and Jordi floated beside them, the only witness of their first-ever ‘I love yous’.

And every few minutes, without either of them thinking about it, one of them would reach for the other again—a hand finding a waist, fingers brushing a wrist, a kiss pressed to a cheek, a thumb tracing over knuckles, a quick kiss on the lips before they settled back against each other. Nothing spectacular, just the small ordinary gestures they so rarely had time for.

They didn't need to say anything; they were already exactly where they wanted to be.
Joan closed his eyes again and let himself relax completely against Eric. He thought that maybe this was what he had wanted all along: not a perfect holiday, not somewhere spectacular.

For Joan in that moment, they weren't extraordinary, they weren’t two footballers, two teammates or two world champions. They were normal. They weren't people who had to think about who might be watching.

They were just Eric and Joan, two boys on holiday floating in a pool, holding each other, loving each other, with nowhere else they needed to be. And Joan thought this was the happiest he had felt in a while: the warmth of the afternoon, the cool water around them, the sun warming their shoulders and the familiar feeling of being held by the person who had become home in such a short time.

Joan smiled and slowly rubbed Eric’s back beneath the water. “Stay like this for a while?”

Eric wrapped his arms tighter around him. “Absolutely.”

And they did, neither of them in any hurry to move.

By the time they left the villa for dinner, the sun was already starting to disappear behind the coast.
Alicia had recommended a small restaurant on the beach a few days earlier, insisting that they should go if they ever found themselves nearby. A friend of hers from university was working there for the summer season, and she had assured them that she would give them some privacy, away from indiscreet eyes. It wasn't far from the villa, so they decided to give it a try. 

The place was small but simple and relaxed, with tables spread across a terrace overlooking the water. Their table was tucked away in a quiet, almost hidden corner of the terrace. There were a few people still having dinner, the sound of conversation mixing with the waves below them. 

While they were looking at the menu Joan looked out towards the sea. “Okay. Your sister has good taste.”

Eric smiled. “Don't tell her that.”

“Why?”

“She'll never shut up about it.”

Joan laughed. “I think she already knows.”

They ordered dinner and settled into an easy conversation, jumping from one subject to another. They talked about what they might do tomorrow, a film Joan had watched on the flight back from New York, the terrible playlist played in the restaurant or discussing when Eric is gonna learn how to cook properly. (Joan is pretty sure about it: never).

They had stayed longer than they had planned, until almost closing time, talking over dessert and sharing the last few bites of each other's plates, before finally heading back home.

Now they were sitting together on the terrace. The night air was warm, and the sea was barely visible in the darkness except for the occasional reflection of the moon on the water and a few distant lights along the coast. 

Joan was sitting sideways on the sofa, one leg tucked underneath him, while Eric had an arm stretched along the back of it. In less than two seconds, Joan was already leaning against Eric’s chest, while the defender kissed the top of his head almost automatically.

After a while Joan pulled both of their phones out of his trouser pocket and he handed Eric his. “Congratulations, you have survived almost an entire day without it, it’s a big step.”

Eric reached for it immediately. “Shut up, it makes me feel like I’m addicted to it.”

“‘cause you are, carinyo.”

“I’m not.”

“Eric, we already discussed this. Yes, you are in a codependent relationship with your phone, and you should consider yourself lucky I gave it back to you now. I could've kept it until tomorrow morning but I’m by far an excellent boyfriend so shut up and check everything you have to check”

“Excellent? don’t flatter yourself too much”

Joan stuck his tongue out at him before he reached for his phone too. “So, what important thing did you miss while you were having a wonderful day with your fantastic boyfriend?”

Eric unlocked his phone and started scrolling through his notifications. “Not that much, actually. Or at least, nothing I really cared about.”

Joan looked at him, offended. “Excuse me?”

Eric laughed. “I mean, there were no emergencies. No important messages.”

“Good.”

Eric kept scrolling. “Some messages from Alicia.”

Joan glanced at his screen. “What did she want?”

Eric opened the chat and immediately smiled. “Pictures of the dogs.” He showed Joan the first one. One of their dogs was lying upside down on the sofa, completely asleep.

Joan laughed. “How many?”

Eric scrolled up. “Twenty-three.”

“Twenty-three?”

“Apparently, I had a lot to catch up on.”

Joan shook his head, still smiling, and looked down at his own phone. “Wait.”

“What?”

“My brother messaged me too. “Joan opened the chat. The first picture was his dog Otto sitting on the floor, looking straight at the camera with his head tilted slightly to one side.

Eric leaned closer “Oh, he's cute.”

“There are more.”

Joan swiped to the next one. Then another. And another. Eric laughed.

“How many did he send?”

Joan counted. “Twelve? So basically, we go offline for a day and we receive the same update from our siblings, with our favourite living being.” He paused. “I said living just because I can't say human being. Otto is very important.”

Eric looked at him with a smile. “That should be me, though.”

Joan turned towards him “Don't flatter yourself too much. Otto has a serious advantage over you; you're definitely not beating Otto.”

Eric laughed and leaned back against the sofa “What advantage?”

“He actually listens to me.”

“Oi, that's brutal.”

“You'll survive.” Joan said, blowing him a kiss.

While they were checking Otto’s adventures of the day on Joan’s phone, a WhatsApp notification appeared. It was from the chat between him and Dani Olmo. It was a simple message from Dani, just a “Ok then, see you soon”. 

Eric looked at him suspiciously. “What does Dani want? Is he already tired of his holiday in Greece with Laura?”

“Nah,” Joan said casually. “I just needed his help” He suddenly turned towards Eric. “By the way.”

Eric looked up. “What?”

“I've been thinking about next week.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. “What about it? After more than a month together, Dani already wants me to go on holiday with him and our friends. Back in May, I didn't even think I'd make the World Cup squad, so obviously my holiday plans have changed a bit.”

“Don’t say it like you’re complaining. You always have fun in Ibiza. Maybe a little too much for my liking. Last year, definitely. Don’t look at me like that, Dani told me about all the boys and girls you kissed or worse, so yeah, I’m trying to erase those memories from my mind.”

Eric immediately looked at him, putting on an offended expression.  “Oh, come on! You make it sound like I was out there kissing every person on the island!”

Joan raised an eyebrow. “I didn't say that.”

“You might as well have.”

“I'm just saying what Dani told me.”

“Dani talks too much. “Joan laughed. “Last year we weren't dating,” Eric added, a little more apologetically.

“Okay, fair enough. You were a free man. A very free man, apparently. And I still don't need to hear all the details, though.” Joan paused, trying to sound casual. “Anyway, that's not the point. I was just saying… I might come too. Only if you want me to, of course.” He was starting to feel nervous, picking at the skin around his nails.

Eric stared at him. “What?”

“I said I might come.”

There was a second of silence. Then Eric's face completely changed. “Wait. Seriously?”

Joan laughed. “Seriously.”

“You're coming to Ibiza?”

“My friends planned a last-minute trip there, and I managed to fit myself in. Then I texted Dani to help sort out the houses, where everyone’s staying, and all the logistical stuff.” 

“Are you joking?”

“No. But if you want to stay with your friends I get it, you didn’t have many chances to see them during last couple of months”

“Joan.” He moved closer, practically grabbing Joan's arm. “You're actually coming?”

Joan laughed nervously and he looked down, suddenly feeling even more nervous. “Yes. I mean, if you want me there.”

“Of course I want you there.”

“Okay, good.”

“Good?”

Joan shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah. I don't know. I thought maybe you'd want some time with Dani and the others. You've barely seen them since the World Cup started.” He hesitated, rubbing his thumb over the side of his finger. “And if you want to spend some time with them without me, that's completely fine. You don't have to be with me twenty-four seven just because we're together. I've got my friends there too.” He paused. “I don't want to be that boyfriend who needs to know where you are all the time or who you're with. I'm not trying to control your holiday.”

Eric's expression softened. “Joan, I know.”

“I just don't want to come across as… you know.”

“Possessive? Jealous?”

“Yeah.”

Eric smiled. “You’re not.”

Joan nodded, still looking slightly unconvinced. “Good. Because I really don't want to be that guy.”

Eric moved closer. “Are you kidding? You're coming to Ibiza with me.”

Joan finally looked at him properly. “Yes.”

Eric's smile grew even wider. 

Joan couldn't help smiling too, the nervousness slowly giving way to relief. “I thought you'd be happy.”

“Happy? Joan, I'm fucking thrilled.”

Joan laughed, and Eric pulled him into a hug before he could say anything else.

“Okay, okay,” Joan mumbled against his shoulder, laughing. “I get it.”

“No, you don't.” Eric squeezed him tighter. “I really didn't expect this.”

“That was kind of the point. But there's just one thing.”

Eric looked at him. “What?”

“Some of your friends still don't know about us and some of mine don't either, so we'll have to be a little careful.”

“About what?”

“I don't know. Everything.”

Eric laughed. “That’s very specific.”

“You know what I mean.” Joan started counting on his fingers. “Like… if we're all having breakfast together and you casually sit on my lap, that's probably going to raise some questions.”

Eric laughed. “Okay, fair. Even if I like to drink my coffee half asleep on your lap.”

“Or if we're at the beach and you keep touching me every five seconds.”

“I don't do that.”

Joan gave him a look. “You absolutely do.”

“Okay, maybe.”

“And if we're all going out at night…”

“What about it?”

“If someone asks why we're always together, we can't just say ‘because we're dating’ if they don't know. If everyone goes to the same club, we're obviously going to spend time together, but we can't exactly disappear together every five minutes.” 

Eric thought about it. “We could just tell them.”

Joan nodded. “We could.”

“Would you be uncomfortable?”

“No. Not with them.”

“Then why are you worried?”

Joan shrugged. “I guess I just don't want it to become a whole thing.”

“It doesn't have to.”Eric took his hand. “And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if some of them already know, if you don’t count Dani”

Joan smiled. “Maybe a couple of the others.”

“Because we're that obvious?” Eric grinned.

“Probably.”

“And if we're all sitting around after a night out and you fall asleep on me?”

“I'll blame the alcohol.”

“You don't even drink that much.”

“Then I'll blame you.”

Joan shook his head, laughing. “You're going to be a nightmare.”

“But a fantastic nightmare. Look, if someone figures it out, they figure it out. I trust them.”

Joan nodded. “Me too.”

“And if we want to tell them, we tell them.”

Joan smiled. “Okay. I think I can live with that.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. “Good.”

Joan said with a firm tone, trying to sound very severe. “But I'm serious about the lap thing.”

Eric immediately grinned. “No promises.”

“Eric.”

“Fine. I'll try.”

“That's all I wanted.”

“No, it isn't.”

Joan narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“You definitely want me to sit on your lap.”

Joan stared at him. “Shut up.”

Eric laughed. “We are going to spend another holiday together”

You say that like it’s a punishment.”

“I haven't decided yet.”

“Right, you're unbearable.” Joan gave him a look and tried to step away; he shook his head but he was smiling.

Eric stopped him from moving. “And yet you're coming to Ibiza.”

“Unfortunately.”

Eric gasped dramatically. “Unfortunately?”

“You heard me. I can't believe I'm being treated like this after arranging a surprise for you.”

“You didn't arrange anything. Your friends and Dani did.” Eric stated.

“I still deserve some credit.”

“For what?”

“For being extremely lovable.”

“That is very debatable.”

Joan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You didn't seem to think it was debatable in the pool.”

Eric immediately covered his face with one hand. “Oh, shut up.”

Joan grinned. “No, seriously. You were very convincing.”

“Please stop reminding me.”

Joan gently pulled his hand away from his face.

“You know I thought it was cute, right?”

“It was not cute.”

“It was.”

“I had planned it differently.” Eric looked at him. “I wanted to say it properly.”

Joan's smile softened. “You did.”

Eric shook his head. “No. I basically shouted it in a swimming pool over a pink flamingo.”

“You didn't shout.”

“I panicked.”

“You definitely panicked. Joan leaned closer and kissed his cheek. “For what it's worth, I liked it exactly the way it happened.”

Eric looked at him for a moment, still slightly embarrassed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eric shook his head. “I just wanted it to be… nice.”

Joan's expression softened. “It was nice.”

“It happened in the middle of an argument.”

“We weren't arguing”. Joan laughed.

Eric groaned. “See? You’re laughing at me, this is exactly why I didn't want to tell you.”

Joan reached up and gently touched his cheek. “Hey.” Eric looked at him. “You said it because you meant it and I loved hearing it.”

Eric smiled faintly. “I know.”

“But?”

Eric hesitated. “But I still wish I could've done it properly.”

Joan moved closer, until there was barely any space between them. “What would ‘properly’ have been?”

Eric thought about it. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“I had the words. I just didn't have the right moment.”

Joan smiled. “Maybe there doesn't have to be a perfect moment.”

Eric was trying to make his point. “I just wish I'd said it differently.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted it to be special.”

Joan leaned closer. “It was special.”

Eric looked at him, still slightly embarrassed. “Even though it just came out?”

“Especially because it just came out.”

Eric smiled and Joan brushed his fingers lightly over Eric's hand. “And now you don't have to worry about saying it perfectly.”

Eric looked down at their hands, then back at him.

“I love you. “This time, he said it quietly, without thinking about how he was supposed to say it.

Joan smiled. “I love you too.”

Eric's shoulders relaxed, and he pulled Joan closer against him. Eric looked at him for a few seconds. “You make everything sound easy.”

“Because sometimes it is.”

Eric smiled. “You’re annoying.”

“I know.”

Joan leaned forward and kissed him softly. When he pulled back, Eric kept looking at him and he smiled. “I hate you.”

“No, you don't.”

Eric looked at him through his fingers. “Don't get too confident.”

Eric gently pulled his hand away from his face. “Too late.”

Joan tried to keep a straight face, but eventually gave up and laughed again. “You're going to be impossible in Ibiza.”

“I've always been impossible.”

“Very true.”

Eric squeezed his hand. “And you're still coming.” 

Joan nodded. “Yeah.” A small smile appeared on his face. “I am.”

Eric looked at him for a moment, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. “Good.”

Joan narrowed his eyes.

“Was that your way of distracting me?”

“Maybe.”

“It worked.”

“I know. It always does.”

They stayed there for a long time, listening to the sea and feeling the warmth of each other's bodies through their clothes.

Neither of them spoke, there was no need to.

After a while, one of the phones buzzed on the table.

Neither of them moved. A second buzz followed. Joan opened one eye.

“More dogs?”

“Probably.”

“Should we check?”

Eric tightened his arms around him. “No.”

Joan smiled against his chest. “Tomorrow?”

Eric kissed the top of his head again. “Tomorrow.”

And neither of them reached for the phones. Eventually, they became nothing more than two forgotten rectangles in the dark.

Joan was curled up against Eric's side, his head resting on his chest, while Eric absent-mindedly played with his fingers.

Eric looked down at Joan. “Today was nice.”

Joan looked up and smiled. “Even without your phone?”

Eric pretended to think about it. “Especially without my phone.”

Joan laughed softly, Eric leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Although I do think Alicia owes me some more pictures tomorrow. She probably has hundreds.”

Joan closed his eyes again and settled against him. For a moment, Eric simply looked at him. A few hours ago, he had been terrified that he had ruined the moment when he accidentally said I love you.

Now, sitting there with Joan tucked against him, he realised that maybe there had never been anything to ruin in the first place.

It had not been perfect.

It had not been planned.

It had just been theirs.

Eric smiled to himself and tightened his arms around Joan, enough to make him feel all his love deep to his bones.

They stayed there until the night grew colder and the lights along the coast became fewer, their hands intertwined, with Joan half-asleep against Eric's chest.

They are world champions, but right now it feels irrelevant. They are in their own little bubble, far from the world outside. They are in love, they have each other and that is more than enough.