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The game was drawing to a close, however the atmosphere remained tense. The Merengues were still celebrating that goal scored in the 81st minute, by none other than Luka— that meant that Sevilla had roughly around ten minutes left to try to at least level the score.
But Sergio was smiling gleefully, even though his team wouldn't ultimately make it just for one single goal. Being defeated by yet another of Luka's masterclasses was something he could take pride in.
Sergio had almost run towards him just as he used to back then in Madrid. His muscles had sprung on their own as soon as Luka had leapt into the air in celebration and was immediately surrounded by white jerseys, his teammates who pulled him in a collective hug.
It was a purely instinctive reaction, one he should have been ashamed of since his own team was losing.
But Sergio wanted to be there. He wanted Luka to run towards him and throw himself into his arms like he used to, wrapping his legs tightly around his waist since he was sure Sergio would always be there to catch him.
Sergio would hoist Luka up with no hesitation, feel his heart pounding against his own, his lungs working hard as he screamed in triumph.
Perhaps it was the adrenaline, perhaps it was the perfect excuse to express feelings that had never been spoken aloud— his face would always end up buried in the crook of Luka's shoulder, his eyes closed as he kissed his neck, surrendering himself completely to him, like the whole world had been gathered into the tiny space in-between them.
Those moments were growing more and more distant. They were supposed to change gradually, to wither and turn into memories he would cherish after retirement, something to enrich the pages of his biography.
Years had passed, their days at Real Madrid were over, they had gotten older. Sergio stood there in front of the net, watching Luka being loudly congratulated, kissed, held, right in front of his eyes and yet beyond his reach. Initially, a subtle kind of bitterness made its way into his heart but then it changed into something more specific. It was homesickness.
Sergio was playing for Sevilla, the team from the city he was born and raised and yet he belonged somewhere else, which wasn't a city nor a place.
When the game finally ended, Sergio had the decency to show some disappointment. He patted his teammates on the shoulders, watched them sink onto the turf or stare into the void with a vacant expression he knew all too well.
But he couldn't hold himself back much longer. Luka was just a few metres away, talking and shaking hands with some other of Sergio's teammates who were congratulating him on the victory.
It was as though Luka possessed his own gravitational pull. The stadium continued to roar, cameras kept rolling, and players came and went: it was all superfluous. Sergio walked toward Luka, and as with every step he took, Luka's expression softened a little more.
Sergio wanted to hug him right away, finally closing the gap between them. He knew Luka wouldn't withdraw but for some reason he was irrationally afraid that he might have changed meanwhile. So he kept to himself, arms loose at his sides.
“Congratulations, Lukita” he said, then chuckled “I'm so happy it was you, I wouldn't have accepted it otherwise”
Luka visibly jolted at the affectionate nickname. His upper lip trembled, he could hardly remember Sergio calling him like that in person, God knew how long it had been. Sergio's voice was just as warm and deep as he remembered it, carrying all his temperament, nothing like the artificial buzz of the countless voice messages he would send him, no matter how good the quality of his phone microphone was.
Sergio expected Luka to give him one of his reserved laughs, perhaps allowing himself a little bragging with no real bite behind it. He had always loved how competitive Luka was, whether they were playing on the same team or one against the other that hadn't ever made a difference.
He stood there, waiting, his mouth still curved into that cheeky smile— he couldn't help it. Then Luka moved and simply grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him immediately into an embrace. Sergio’s heart plummeted. His grip on Sergio's neck was firm and his thumb kept gently brushing the shaven back of his head as he drew closer.
“Sergio-”
Warmth suddenly spread across Sergio's face, his body gradually relaxed into the familiar sensation of Luka's slender arms around him. He adjusted to his presence automatically as though it had been only a couple days since they had last been together. He tilted his head, allowing Luka’s lips to get nearer his face as his own ghosted over the shell of his ear, sheltered beneath soft blonde hair.
“I missed you… I missed you so much” Luka whispered under his breath, caressing his face with his other hand “oh, Sergi… it's been so long”
He was trembling slightly, both body and voice. His round eyes were wide and brimming with tears, Luka wasn't usually that expressive. A strange feeling slipped into Sergio's heart, unabashed possessiveness mingled with nostalgia for those golden days.
He wanted to take Luka away with him, to relive the years they had spent together at Madrid, conquering everything there was to conquer, reading each other without a single spoken word, in a way none could ever do.
A wave of wistfulness washed over him. Sergio didn't plan to extend his contract with Sevilla, and he had no idea whether Luka was going to leave Madrid anytime soon. Maybe… maybe there was still a chance for one, last haphazard twist of fate.
He pulled away a little and glanced at Rüdiger who was casually passing by to try to collect himself for a moment. Witnessing Luka being so emotional was taking its toll on him, pretending to be perfectly fine in front of their teammates and the media was hard, especially when Luka was covering half of his face with his hands to suppress his tears.
“I'm here, Lukita mío” Sergio murmured into his ear, careful not to let anyone else hear. He held him as firmly as he could “I missed you so much, I missed this so much too”
His left hand rested intimately on the small of Luka's back, while Luka's was pressed in between their bodies, clutching the fabric of his dark blue jersey.
It seemed like Luka wanted to reach straight into his heart in that fleeting moment where no one was watching. Everyone else on the pitch temporarily disappeared, the screams, the cameras shutters, the reporters’voices drifting from the mixed zone. There was only Sergio, the shield that would always protect his back, his point of reference, his anchor.
Juanlu walking nearby dragged Luka out of the grip of his emotions. He quickly tugged at the collar of his jersey and took it off, Sergio followed round.
“Everyone wanted it but it's for you, only for you” he said, handing him the Madrid shirt.
Sergio hid behind another broad smile as he took it but his eyes were unmistakably glassy.
He looked at the name Modrić printed across the upper back, those six letters and the number 10 that had always been in front of him during games, that he could always find in every stadium, even among kits of every possible colour.
“I couldn't wait to give it to you, mi querido,” Luka said, his smile stretching wider.
Sergio swallowed hard. He couldn't take any more words like those coming from Luka’s mouth. He pulled him into another hug, he just couldn't let go.
“You know I'm yours…” he declared, covering him once again in his arms “I will always be”
“I know… that's why it was destined to you and none else, it's a token of everything I feel for you”
Luka's voice was wonderfully soft and hearty as though his words themselves weren't enough.
Sergio would have kissed him right there and then, for the whole crowd to see. Fortunately Luka broke off before that would happen.
“See you tonight?” he asked hopefully.
Sergio nodded and smiled like an idiot when he saw Luka drape his jersey around his neck as he walked away, letting everyone see the name Sergio Ramos emblazoned across it, like a mark of possession.
When Luka got to the door of his room, he was wearing Sergio's Sevilla jersey. It was one or two sizes larger than his, the hem of the sleeves reaching his elbows and the bottom falling over part of his upper thighs, making it look like he was wearing extremely tiny shorts.
“You look good in blue,” Sergio complimented as he stepped inside.
“Thanks. You look better in white” Luka replied, as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. When Sergio circled his waist, another smile spread beneath his blonde-and-greyish beard, as he hid under the curtain of ash blonde hair, just like he did when he was twenty years younger.
“Do you think so?” Sergio asked coquettishly.
“Yes. But you'd look even better with the armband on” Luka remarked. He kissed his cheek with those impossibly and always soft lips of his, then excused himself and went rummaging through his wardrobe.
“Oh wow. You really mean it” Sergio exclaimed when he saw Luka returning, proudly holding the item bearing the Real Madrid crest.
“Wear it”
Luka kept looking into his eyes, of course he was serious. God. That would bring back so many memories, Sergio didn't know if he was ready.for it.
“Why?”
“Just wear it, please”
Why was he being so insistent? Did he really miss him that much? Sergio sat on the bed and gently dragged Luka down beside him. He took both Luka's hands into his own as he surrounded him with his left arm. Luka gave in, he leaned forwards, drawn by Sergio's personal scent, coming both from the Sevilla jersey he had as well as from Sergio himself, who bowed as he spoke.
“No, it's yours now. You've earned it”
What Sergio had intended as an occasion to tell Luka how much he had grown as a player since their very first meeting had turned into something more.
Luka moved closer until their foreheads bumped. He kept gazing at Sergio's lips, only inches away. The tension was almost tangible, he wanted to kiss him so badly yet some almost superstitious part of him was persuaded that, as long as he waited to kiss him, that moment would last a little longer.
“But I want you to wear it, capi,” he pleaded, pausing on the last word “Do it for me”
“Ok”
Sergio just could say no twice when Luka wanted him to do something. Especially when he called him capi in that mischievous voice he used to make him do whatever he wanted.
He stayed still as Luka unstrapped the armband and put it on his sleeve for him. That gesture brought many faded pictures back into colour, Sergio putting it on before every game, passing it to Marcelo whenever he got subbed off after receiving yet another yellow card, and especially Luka removing it quietly when they were left alone in the dressing room to snap him out of the pent up the frustration after a defeat, before they would cope with it through one another's touch.
“I miss having you as captain so much” Luka confessed “It's hard for me to live up to your example sometimes. You were capable to hold everything and everyone together, we worked like a real team”
Today Luka was doing far too much damage to his poor heart. Sergio tried to make light of it before tears would gather in the corners of his eyes.
“I thought you missed me in your national team,” he teased.
“Do you still remember that interview?” Luka blurted out.
“Of course I do... ‘Sergio Ramos is what is missing for me’, and then you sort of apologized for it in the following lines because that headline made it sound like you wanted me to replace some of your Croatian mates”
Luka put his hands over his face defensively.
“Don't put it like that, please”
“I'm just quoting you. You sure are possessive”
Sergio shot him a playful grin and Luka wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him down on the already unmade bed. Sergio braced himself over Luka's head to avoid collapsing on top of him but when Luka started kissing his neck everything fell apart. He just slumped against him and Luka sighed pleasantly as he got crushed.
“Yes… yes I'm possessive. Can you blame me? I want you all for myself” he whispered, devotedly kissing from Sergio's chin to his lips. Sergio couldn't take it anymore, Luka’s kisses were getting heated, more lingering, each one carrying a little more meaning than the last and he felt completely spellbound.
“I thought you were going to be mine forever but then you moved to PSG and I had to let you go… that's how things are in football” Luka said sensually. His fingers threaded through Sergio's hair like intricate grape vines, his mouth kept letting out small, warm puffs of air against Sergio's, almost a plea to be kissed back.
“Oh God, I'm yours. Yours, yours. I belong to you” Sergio said over and over in between kisses after their lips finally met, “Mi vida, I can't stay away from you for too long, I'll always come back to you”
Sergio was a talker. It was easy to elicit a love confession in return after expressing his feelings so openly, Luka knew. He let out another but louder sigh as his former captain worshiped his way down to his collarbones through kisses, grounding him down with his own body.
He remembered how Sergio would always go for his neck or his cheeks after one of them scored a goal, not caring about how intimate that could look. He would always spot him whether in their teammates’arms or yelling and running around to celebrate a trophy. He also remembered how he still tried to reach for him even if momentarily on opposite sides while playing for their national teams. However far apart they were, Sergio would always find a way to get closer.
“Mi Sergio” Luka murmured passionately, as Sergio ran his hands all over his chest, completely lost in him “My beautiful Sergio, my fierce, bold capitán… all mine”
Sergio kissed him again with tongue vehemently, losing his sense a bit more at every inch of skin he uncovered. He lived for Luka praising him like that, it both moved and aroused him but he didn't want to undress him yet, hearing Luka like that while wearing his jersey with his own name branded on his back was intoxicatingly hot.
“Lukita, you're trying to make me forget the early years” he protested to cool down “I still remember when you came fresh out of Tottenham and didn't like me as much”
Luka cracked a smile and pinched his nose gently.
“Yes okay, you're right, I'll give you that... But you made the first move toward me and I'll be forever thankful”
The conversation then drifted into a recall of a collection of old memories. Sergio temporarily got off Luka and switched to lay on his hip beside him but his hand still lingered on his face.
“Do you still remember when I told you ‘see you in Madrid’ after that one game?”
Where there had once been a smooth cheek, there was now the texture of a fresh aftershave and a few fine wrinkles. Fourteen years together, time had passed so quickly. Sergio still remembered when Luka wasn't in Madrid yet, he remembered the first time he had hugged him perfectly, the youthfulness of his face and the fluffiness of his hair which made him look like an angel who had decided to set foot on Earth to prove himself on the pitch.
“Yes. If I must be honest, I didn't pay much attention to it at first… You know, I thought it was just something people say out of politeness” Luka said, recalling the early times of his career in England. That game in particular hadn't been that meaningful. Yet, looking back at Sergio's words now, it felt almost like they were destined to find their way to each other. Luka blushed at the naiveté of that thought and, before he could realise, Sergio was all over him again.
“But you said I hope so” he taunted “You even wrote it in your biography”
“Sorry I have forgotten which exact words I said”
“Well, I haven't”
“Yes, you even made me autograph it and add an dedication even if we practically lived together”
Luka remembered well writing “A mi querido Sergi con todo mi cariño, muchos, muchísimos besos” under obligation, his hand shaking as he couldn't stop laughing, since Sergio had proudly announced that he was going to display the book opened to the first blank page in his trophy room.
“You know I'm your biggest fan”
God, sometimes he really was insufferable. Luka wiggled partly free from his arms to return to the subject at hand.
“Anyway, now I remember… Yes, I said I hoped so. But come on, I was still at Tottenham, my transfer wasn't even certain yet, what did you want me to tell you? ‘Yeah I guess, don't get your hopes up though?’”
Luka was still blushing a bit as he laughed that off. Never would he have guessed that Sergio's words would turn out prophetic, since their meeting sure hadn't been love at first sight.
“We were talking about you” Sergio said, as though he had just read his mind “And I proved you wrong in the end”
Luka's first impression of him sure hadn't been encouraging. A cocky, boisterous and violent guy. That's why Luka didn't have to feign surprise when he asked an obvious question, even though he already knew the answer.
“You already liked me?”
“Yes.” Sergio replied with no hesitation “I wanted us to play together, I wanted you by our side. And look at us now, I ended up making history with you”
Luka looked down deeply at the Real Madrid crest on the armband that Sergio was still wearing. He remembered the many times Sergio had kissed it, whether it was on his arm or on the left side of his jersey or on a large flag he would later tie around his waist. Then he looked at Sergio's face— the black of his eyes shone in the semi-darkness. His warm lips brushed Luka's once again, as he whispered a two-word vow.
“Te quiero”
“Te amo” Luka said.
He had learned more than enough Spanish during all those years in Madrid to understand the difference between querer and amar very well. Sergio himself had waited a while before saying the latter to him, wanting to be sure that his feelings were returned with the same intensity. It wasn't the first time Luka had said that to him of course, but the sentiment in his voice, the long time spent apart and the tenderness of the moment made Sergio's heart throb in his ribcage.
“Yo también te amo Luka. Oh, me hiciste mucha falta” he murmured, covering his knuckles in kisses.
“Mío, solo mío”
Luka started to undress him as they both kept whispering sweet nothings to each other until morning.