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Summary
They weren’t together, God, they had never even kissed.
But Ferran thought about it constantly, he thought about what it would take to put that same look on Pedri’s face without a tackle involved, what it would feel like to be the reason those eyes went wet and that mouth trembled, what it would sound like if the whimper was for him alone.
So he started being mean.
It began with tone, a sharper edge when Pedri misplayed a simple pass in training. "Again, focus." The words themselves were ordinary, the way Ferran said them was not. Pedri would freeze for half a second, eyes flicking up to Ferran’s face, and there it would be— that quick flash of hurt, the soft drop of his mouth, the way his shoulders drew in like he was bracing for something worse.
Ferran would hold his gaze just long enough to watch the wet shine gather, then look away as if nothing had happened.
Series
- Part 7 of angel's bottom pedri fics