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Raphinha wasn't sure he could explain to someone who wasn't a footballer the kind of connection that may exist between two teammates.
Not between each and every teammate, of course; while it wasn't exactly a one-in-a-million occurrence, it wasn't all that common, either. But when it happened, when two people were just forged by the football gods to play together, to get along on the pitch so flawlessly, well, that kind of connection just couldn't be put in words. It had to be felt.
He felt it with Fermín. To Rapha, it was like their minds and their bodies were intertwined. Not one and the same, because that would be limiting, but an extension of each other on the pitch. His eyes saw what Fermín saw, his mind conjured the exact trajectory the other pictured before he even changed directions, he could predict where his teammate would put the ball for him to score.
But don't get him wrong, he wasn't saying that that kind of connection resulted in anything more than what it was supposed to be: sinergy on the pitch. Hell, Raphinha had already felt that kind of connection with other teammates before and it had amounted to nothing more than perfect passes and a lot of scored goals.
What he was trying to convey was that, precisely because his mind and Fermín's were frequently coexisting in that unique mélange, it was immediately evident to Raphinha when the blond's feelings for him changed.
If he tried, Raphinha thought he could pinpoint the specific moment Fermín's touches stopped being playful and became needy, the exact date his looks changed from admiring to lustful, and the precise match when his hugs during goal celebrations started lasting longer and being tinged with wistful longing.
But for all that the perception had been immediate, it hadn't came without a surprise. Fermín had a girlfriend and had never insinuated being anything other than absolutely straight, but then, again, Rapha thought, it wasn't like any footballer would ever let that kind of truth slip between his fingers if he wanted to maintain his career and his peace of mind.
What also surprised him was his own reaction to that discovery. He had immediately felt very flattered and intrigued that, amongst all those good looking players, Fermín ended up developing feelings for him. And intrigued wasn't what he was supposed to be feeling upon realizing his much younger teammate had the hots for him, he was sure. Just ask his wife.
But he couldn't change his reaction to that and, even before he himself realized it, his own feelings for Fermín, which he now could understand had been ambivalent ever since he met the blond, had started emerging as well.
He was sure Fermín had realized just as fast as he had that his feelings were reciprocated. You know, that body and mind connection they shared and all that.
One day, before he could stop it, his own touches became laced with longing and lust and Fermín had locked eyes with him for just a moment in a knowing way that ignited his insides.
They never talked about it, though. And they would never talk about it. It was a given. Raphinha was married with a kid. Fermín had a girlfriend. They played football for one of the biggest clubs in Europe. They were teammates and, fuck, Raphinha was his captain.
And he could even pretend nothing had changed at all if he just ignored the way that, during training or even during the highly televisioned matches, they had started to find excuses to touch even more than they already did before. Or if he ignored the way they could constantly be found talking to each other in hushed tones at the cafeteria, the gym or the locker room, trapped in their own world, sometimes ignoring their teammates, because the only opinion they wanted was each other's.
If he ignored the way everyone else must have noticed something shifted between them, because their teammates had started frequently joking about how Fermín was the captain's undisputed favorite, and everytime it happened Raphinha would roll his eyes at the other players, call them jealous children, and sometimes even shove at them, while at the same time searching for Fermín's eyes amongst the crowd, because the blond would always have the most conceited smile at being so notoriously Rapha's favorite.
If he also ignored how he was always talking to Fermín nowadays, even out of training, and sometimes specially out of training, because there was no one else's standpoint he craved more, and Fermín also always wanted his input on something or wanted to show him a funny thing he saw online and suddenly they were texting each other 24/7.
And, of course, if he ignored how even Barcelona's logistics department seemed to be affected by their new dinamic, because all of a sudden he realized Fermín became the only teammate he'd room with during their away games.
In short, if he ignored how all of his life had changed in small ways to better accommodate Fermín, Raphinha could pretend nothing had changed at all. But the thing was, despite it all, they never talked about it. They never even danced around the issue or mentioned it in complicated euphemisms or muffled riddles. No, they simply ignored the existence of the life-changing fact that they were deeply in love with each other.
But then, again, Raphinha wasn't sure they could ignore it completely, after all it was in the way they always found each other wherever they were. It was there in the way they always sought each other after scoring and in the way Raphinha always made sure to stay behind on the days Fermín had played somewhat poorly, still recovering from the injury he suffered before the World Cup, and needed someone to comfort him and reassure him that he was still worthy of the team.
On those days, Raphinha would take his time on the locker room, talking to anyone who wanted a word from the captain while waiting patiently for the whole team to shower, gather their things and to finally leave, one by one, until there was only one other footballer left.
He would sit beside Fermín, so close their whole sides were touching, and playfully nudge him with his shoulder. Fermín would sigh profoundly, in a mixture of relief for finally having the captain's focus solely on him and despair for having played a shitty game and needing so desperately the captain's attention. Then he would rest his blond curls on Rapha's shoulder, waiting for him to ask, all soft,
"Wanna talk about it, Fer?"
Sometimes he did. Sometimes he would whine on his captain's shoulder for long minutes, pissed at himself, at his stupid bone that was supposed to be healed already but still hurt sometimes, enough to get his head out of the game.
On those times Rapha would calmly tell him to have more patience with his own health, that a high performance sport like football took a heavy toll on their bodies and he needed to be more gentle with himself, that the whole team knew how good of a player he was and one subpar performance wouldn't erase this.
But sometimes he remembered very freshly what Raphinha had already told him so many times before and he didn't want to force the captain to say it all again. And in those days he just wanted to know one thing, after passing on Rapha's offer to talk about what was troubling him by shaking his head at the man's shoulder.
"Am I still your favorite?" Fermín asked, somewhat playful somewhat not, in a small voice.
Rapha huffed a laugh, right hand flying to tug gently at Fermín's curls. "You know you'd still be my favorite even if you assisted a goal for Madrid." The captain confessed and Fermín gasped. "Getting subbed off half time in a match against Sevilla, that we ended up winning, by the way, is nothing compared to that." His joke had the desired effect and Fermín laughed quietly against his shoulder. Rapha smiled at the sound, fingers still caressing the blond hair. "But don't tell that to the others, the captain can't have favorites."
Fermín snorted and finally raised his head from where it was laying against Raphinha. "I'm pretty sure they all know, capi."
They stared at each other for a long moment and, after a while, the captain averted his eyes. He stared straight ahead at the lockers, because he needed to stop looking at Fermín's face for a second. He was so pretty it hurt.
"Let's hope they don't." He finally answered, voice quiet. It felt like the closest they had already gotten to talking about it and it made Raphinha so restless he had to get up from the bench. "Let's go home, shall we? We still have training tomorrow morning."
Fermín nodded and got up from the bench as well, gathering his things quickly before stepping in front of Raphinha and forcing the captain's straying attention back to him, both hands grabbing his shoulders. "Thank you, Rapha." Then he pulled the man in a tight embrace. "You always know when I'm in a mood."
And Rapha just couldn't not reciprocate the hug, so he held Fermín close, arms crossed at his waist. "You're always in a mood, Fer." He jested, ripping another laugh from the blond. Then his tone turned sweet again. "Don't worry, okay? You're still one of the best out there. Everybody has shitty days in this line of work."
Fermín just hummed, content, head resting against Raphinha's collarbone. Like that, the captain could smell the blond locks still slightly damp from the shower Fermín took after the match, and he just couldn't resist running his left hand over them. His right arm closed even tighter around Fermín's waist, compensating the departure of the other hand, that was now caressing the blond curls.
Fermín hummed louder against Rapha's skin, satisfied with the contact, arms pulling Rapha's body closer. Like a cat, the captain thought. Fermín had always been clingy, even before this whole feelings-for-each-other mess. He had always loved to be hugged, to have his hair played with and to have Rapha's attention a hundred percent on him.
Things only got worse - or better - after he realized his feelings were returned. At first Raphinha was afraid someone might find it weird, call them out on that. There were countless videos of them all over each other during practice and it was a little harder to explain than those celebratory grabbings after someone scored a goal, because these ended up involving the whole team and those were theirs alone.
But with time he realized people only saw what they wanted to. Their male fans read that as a brotherly bond. The female fans found it lovely and even joked about them as a couple, but he could tell no one really took it serious. Even his own wife found it funny, liking a bunch of video edits of them kissing and hugging.
No one suspected anything. And there was nothing to suspect, really. Because they never did anything. They just loved being close, supporting each other. And with time Rapha stopped being afraid and became very comfortable in giving Fermín all the affection he wanted, even when they were alone like that at the locker room and it could be awkward if someone saw them so wrapped around each other.
"Feeling better?" He asked quietly, fingers still combing through Fermín's hair.
The blond nodded, causing his bouncing curls to brush against the sensitive skin of Rapha's neck and a shiver to run down his body.
"Wanna stay like this forever." Fermín confessed.
Raphinha used the hand that was caressing the boy's locks to grab at his hair and pull his head back, forcing Fermín to face him while still holding him close by the waist. "Well, we can't." He explained, smirking at Fermín's gasp of surprise at the sudden pull. "We'd have to separate for the next match."
Fermín smiled, all teeth, and Raphinha loved him so much, all pliant in his arms, he just knew he could do whatever he wanted with the blond.
"You're mean to me, capi." He whined, eyes fluttering closed while he laid back his head to alleviate some of the tension of Raphinha's strong pull on his hair. Rapha hummed in agreement, absent-minded, eyeing the long neck Fermín has just bared for him.
He buried his face in the blond's neck, kissing right where his vein was straining, and nuzzled his nose behind Fermín's ear, smelling his delicious shampoo. He loved those curls so much. He heard Fermín's breathing getting noisier and felt how his left hand grabbed at Rapha's shirt, bunching up the fabric, while the right hand flied to the older man's shoulder.
Raphinha enjoyed the embrace a little bit longer, then gave the milky skin a last kiss before pulling back and releasing Fermín's hair. The loss of those sensations at the same time seemed to throw the blond off balance for a second and he blinked disoriented eyes at his captain, only upright because the man was still firmly holding his waist with one arm.
Rapha smiled at him and ruffled his hair one more time, more or less bringing back the curls that had been flattened by all the pulling they just suffered. "Let's go home, shall we?"
Fermín could only nod, finally stepping away from his captain's embrace. Raphinha felt immediately hollow. He knew just by looking that Fermín was feeling the same.
And throughout their walk, side by side, to where their cars were parked, through the corridors of Camp Nou and small talk about that day's match, Raphinha knew Fermín wanted to reach out and hold his hand.
When they got to Fermín's audi, he knew the blond was having a hard time saying his final goodbye and wanted to invite the captain back to his own house. He knew all this, because he was feeling the same things. Because there was no not knowing when they looked into each other's eyes.
Even so, Raphinha said good night to Fermín with a last kiss on his cheek and walked alone to his car, parked a few spaces ahead.
It was the only thing he could do, since they would never talk about it.
~~
I keep these longings locked. In lowercase inside a vault. Someone told me. There's no such thing as bad thoughts. Only your actions talk.
- Guilty as Sin?, Taylor Swift