Chapter Text
Pau plops down on the white hotel bed sheets the moment he enters the room. Joan chuckles at the younger boy’s antics and feels his heart melt as he notes once again how the usually composed and professional nineteen year old lets his mature masquerade fall around him.
“We have less than two hours, don’t fall asleep, peque,” he reminds the defender with a chuckle and sits down on his own bed, pulling out the suitcase from under the bed.
The boy turns around to lie down on his stomach, eyes closed, mouth hanging open, and doesn’t move for the next minute.
Joan stares at him.
“Pau?”
Nothing. He suppresses a groan.
“Pau, what did I just say about falling asleep?”
There’s a light snore coming from him now and Joan gets up, walks over and bends down, sees how the younger boy’s lip twitches.
“Pau.” He stretches out his hand to shake his shoulder, and the second he touches him, Pau surges upwards and screams into his face.
Joan jumps back and yelps. “Hòstia, you fucking-”
He grabs a pillow and smacks it on his head while Pau topples back onto the bed from laughter.
“You are so easy to scare!”
“Yeah, funny,” he grumbles as Pau still catches his breath, softly smacks the pillow on his face once more.
“Stop! Stop, I’m sorry,” Pau shouts, reaching out and catching Joan’s wrists.
“I’ll tell Eric, you know?”
Pau grins. “Perfect! I wanted to call him too! He must be so bored home alone, he probably misses me. And maybe you too.”
The boy sits up and fishes out his phone while Joan ruffles his hair with a snort.
“Please pack before you call him, though.”
“You’re a shit boyfriend you know that? Acting like all your chores are more important than he is,” Pau scolds him, and Joan frowns.
“It’s called prioritising quality time, what’s the use of calling when I’m in a hurry if I can do it calmly a few minutes later?”
Pau gives him a look and grunts. “Eric always says I’m smarter than you. He’s a liar.”
Joan doesn’t know whether to be offended or endeared, so he simply shakes his head with a laugh and finishes packing his suitcase.
“Eric!” Pau then shouts after a few moments of silence. Joan perks up at the low-quality sound of his favourite voice in the world.
“Heyy, little champ.”
“What are you doing? Did you watch the game?”
Eric snorts. “Did I ever not watch a game?”
“What do you think about it?”
Joan looks back over his shoulder to find Pau exactly how he imagined him. Eyes wide open, smile expectant of praise from his defense-mother. He smiles softly as he rolls another pair of shorts together and slots it between two t-shirts.
“I mean the first half was a bit chaotic from our side but wow, you were blocking every shot left and right, eh? For a moment I thought ‘yep, that’s it, I can retire now’.”
Pau chuckles into the hand his chin is propped up on, the tips of his ears going red.
“Shut up. Gerard was incredible too,” Pau deflects.
Eric laughs softly, and Joan knows they’re thinking the same right now, how the teenager wrapped in the disguise of a veteran player seems to be blind to his own greatness.
“You make a good duo, for sure. I panicked for a moment in the second half when the ball flew past Joan’s reach but you kicked it away.”
Pau smiles. “Yeah, thank God. Hey, so what are you doing?”
“I’m cooking, but don’t tell Joan,” Eric replies, and within a second Pau and Joan look at each other with grins as if they got caught. Eric seems to notice.
“Oh. Did he hear that?”
Joan leaves the last two pieces on his bed and comes over, sitting down behind Pau and waving into the camera.
“Hey, amor.”
“Hey, solet!”
Two insufferable grins stretch over their faces, and Joan thinks he noticed Eric’s voice turning a notch higher and softer.
“You’re cooking?” Joan asks with an excited smile, and Eric tilts his head as he moves the camera and places it somewhere on the counter.
“Mhm, it was supposed to be a surprise.”
“What, the burned cupboards?”
Eric shoots him a glare and both Pau and Joan cackle a little.
“What are you cooking, then?” Pau chimes in, and Joan leans in closer, caging him in with his arms as he looms over his head from behind.
“No, that stays a surprise. Don’t you two need to catch a flight?”
Pau nods and sighs dramatically. “I still have to pack, we have like one and a half hours.”
“Well then?” Eric chuckles and Pau pulls a face.
“Your perfect boyfriend is already almost done with packing.”
“Oh yeah, he likes to be all done and ready before he calls me so we have more time.”
“You know each other so well it’s creepy.”
The couple laughs at that.
“Anyways. Do I need to shower again? I did it quickly in the stadium, do I stink, Joan?”
Pau moves his head back, practically plunging it against Joan’s face, who laughs a bit and sniffs at him, then drops a kiss to his temple.
“You’re good, but if you feel sticky, go shower before you’re cooped up on the plane again.”
Pau sighs and scrambles off the bed, pushing his phone into Joan’s hands.
“See you in a minute, Eric!”
“See you, ratolí!”
When the bathroom door closes, Joan settles back down on his own bed and finishes his suitcase, then zips it closed.
“Alright, baby. All yours now.”
He takes the phone into his hand and leans back against the wall with a lazy smile, one that Eric mimics right back.
“I like how that sounds.”
“Pervert.”
Eric chuckles and disappears out of frame for a second.
“I saw your hug on tv,” he says a little louder so Joan can hear it.
“Ah, yeah? Did you see how he hung off me like a koala?”
Eric comes back into view with a beaming smile.
“You two are so fucking cute, you know? Even right now, the two of you trying to fit into the frame of the call? Adorable.”
Joan laughs softly. “Adorable?”
“Don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?”
“That I want you to fuck me pregnant.”
Joan nearly chokes on his saliva. “Eric,” he hisses, gaze flying to the bathroom door. “Don’t say shit like that!”
His boyfriend has the audacity to frown into the camera. “Why not?”
“Because…” Joan searches for words, cheeks aflame. “Because!”
“See? Now I want you inside me even more.”
“Eric, please stop.”
“Do you not want it?”
“I hate you.”
Eric pouts. “I’m saying you’d be a great dad and all you have to say to that is that you hate me?”
Joan huffs out a breath, eyes wide, before he regains some of his composure and narrows his eyes. “My mother warned me about boys like you.”
“Hm?” Eric hums innocently, a tiny smile playing at his lips. “Boys like me?”
“Beautiful face like a siren and then they’re psychotic on the inside.”
“I love hearing you say I bewitched you with my pretty face but I’m not psychotic at all.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Mhm, crazy for you,” Eric drawls.
Joan feels his skin flush again, and hears Eric chuckle fondly.
“Fuck, look at you. You miss me?”
“So much.”
Eric hums and smiles at the camera, the kind where his eyes are shining with joy and his cheeks surely hurt.
“I’m picking you up from the airport. Then I’m making out with you in the car the second we arrive at home. And then I’m dragging you inside with a boner and feeding you, and then I’m sitting you down on the couch with me in your lap and showing you all the NBA highlights you missed. LeBron saved the Lakers with a three pointer in the fourth quarter, like literally, they had less than twenty seconds left and were three points behind, and boom.”
Joan laughs, a little breathless. “There really is no filter in your brain that differentiates between game talk and dirty talk, is there?”
Now it’s Eric’s turn to blush a bit. “You’re the one who always tells me to keep talking while you fuck me.”
“Well it’s hot when you go all smart on me, what can I s-”
“Ew! Ew, ew, ew!”
Joan didn’t even hear the bathroom door reopen and jolts a little as Pau comes back in with a horrified expression.
“I didn’t give you guys my phone so you could… do phone sex or whatever that was,” he yells.
Eric looks back at Joan through the screen with wide eyes and pressed together lips.
“That wasn’t- anyways. Sorry.”
“You two are disgusting. I’m never having a sleepover at your place again. Never.” He holds up a finger, then bends down to retrieve a fresh shirt from his bag.
Joan has to suppress a chuckle, cheeks bright red. “Pau, we would never-”
“I don’t wanna hear it!”
The younger boy presses his hands to his ears and squeezes his eyes shut. Realising he needs to see in order to walk, he opens them again, warily eyeing Joan, and walks back into the bathroom with the door left open.
Joan turns his attention back on Eric.
“I told you to not say shit like that,” he whispers, and Eric scoffs.
“I might have started but you definitely didn’t stop!”
Joan glares at him. “Anyways. Show me what you’re cooking.”
“It’s a surprise.”
The goalkeeper groans. “Then tell me what you did today.”
“I was in the gym, then I had breakfast in the garden, then I went to get some groceries, then I did the laundry, then I watched the game, and now I’m cooking and talking to the love of my life.”
Joan smiles stupidly. “Oh, who’s that?”
“The love of my life?” Eric grins. “Oh, he’s just the most wonderful guy on earth.”
“Oh really?”
“Mhm, like, I’ve never met anyone like him. We were friends first, and I remember fumbling nearly every third sentence when I talked to him. That kind of wonderful.”
Joan laughs out loud and misses the love-sick stare Eric sends him.
“You know, I never noticed that, because I was so nervous about being close to you I didn’t even care what you were saying as long as you smiled,” Joan admits.
“It’s crazy, no? I used to retype my messages to you three times before sending them off and now here we are.”
They both smile at each other.
“Yeah. Did you see that photo Dani sent you?”
Eric laughs. “Which one?”
Joan frowns. “Which one? Does he send you many photos?”
“Do you wanna see?”
“Sure.”
Eric takes the phone closer and then his video disappears, only his profile picture visible.
“I’m sending them to your phone.”
Joan takes it from his nightstand and unlocks it, just as a few messages appear, but not on his phone.
He frowns a little and, despite feeling guilty, reads the contact name on Pau’s screen. Who's that?
“Did you receive them?”
Eric’s voice rips him out of his thoughts and he quickly looks at his own phone.
He swipes through the photos and videos and huffs in surprise. There’s him in the bus, a selfie he and Dani took, there’s him in the gym staring straight ahead while he’s on a bike, there’s him in the hotel lobby on his phone, probably texting Eric judging from the huge smile on his face, there’s a video of him eating, and then finally the only photo he really knew of, of him and the boys at lunch.
“These are all me,” he mumbles with a chuckle, and Eric’s face reappears on Pau’s phone.
“What did you think they were? Dani’s ridiculous. I ask him one time how you guys are doing and if my boyfriend is all good and he continues to send me random photos of you every four hours. I have more of these, you know.”
Joan laughs incredulously. “Really?”
“Yup, you sleeping on some couch that’s way too small for you, or you on the pitch warming up, he documents your life for me, I think.”
“That’s both cute and scary, I didn’t even notice him taking all those photos,” Joan chuckles and sees Pau come in again.
“Ah, you’re so used to having cameras on you, eh? My little movie star,” Eric teases, and Joan is sure his cheeks are flushing.
Pau sends him a pained look over his shoulder and he chuckles.
“Don’t worry, Pauet, we’re not tainting your innocent phone.”
The boy leaves the towel on his hair and frowns.
“Why are you saying it like that?”
“What do you mean?” Joan smirks a little.
“Innocent, like, sarcastically, as if it’s not innocent,” Pau explains and sits down on his bed.
“Well, who knows what’s on this phone, eh?”
“Joan!” Eric chides in with a horrified expression, and Joan just shrugs.
“I’m just saying!”
“Don’t say things like that! He’s a baby!”
“I’m over eighteen!”
“You’re not helping, Pau!” Eric’s exasperated voice reaches Pau and he presses his lips together.
“So, is your phone innocent?” Joan asks with a raised eyebrow, his grin slightly teasing, even though he’s not sure if he finds this funny.
The boy blushes. “Why- that’s such a dumb question, what do you mean by innocent? And why do you care?”
“That’s a no,” the goalie concludes, and Eric groans.
“Leave it, amor.”
“No, but I have a question, who’s Berni with a blue heart emoji?”
And Pau’s blush deepens. “Isn’t that obvious? It’s Marc, our Marc. Bernal.”
“Ah, he texted you. Thought you’d wanna know.”
Pau chews on his lips and his eyes subtly dart around the room, seemingly trying to pretend he’s not nervous.. “Okay, and did you see what he said?”
“Yeah, you want me to read it to you?”
Pau’s eyes widen slightly. “Uh, no it’s fine, I’ll just answer him later.” His voice wavers a little, and now Eric’s curiosity is piqued as well.
“Wait, what did he say?”
Joan’s thumb moves to minimize the call and click on Bernal’s chat, and Pau suddenly lunges forward to grab his phone.
“Hey! That’s my phone, Joan, give it to me!”
“Are you hiding stuff from me?” He keeps the phone locked in his fist and tries to fight off Pau with the other, and the younger boy huffs in frustration.
“Come on, I don’t snoop on your phone either!”
“That’s different!”
“How is that different?”
“I’m concerned for your safety!”
“Actually,” Eric pipes up again. “I am too.”
So Pau plops down on the bed beside Joan, head meeting his shoulder as he glares.
“You’re rude and evil and unfair and un-”
“Pau, hey, that’s enough,” Eric scolds him lightly and chuckles, causing Pau to sit up agitatedly.
“Yeah? And Joan going through my phone isn’t?”
Joan slings an arm around his shoulder and pulls the smaller boy closer.
“Come on, we just wanna make sure you’re safe.”
“No, you guys are just nosy as fuck.”
“Aquesta boca!” Eric scolds through the phone, and Pau huffs. (Language!)
“Que ja tinc dinou anys, collons!” (I'm already nineteen, asshole!)
Joan finally clicks on the chat and reads through the messages, another one just coming in.
“Oh wow.”
Pau crosses his arms and sinks back against his armpit, accepting his fate albeit unhappily so.
“What?” Eric asks at Joan’s reaction.
“Okay, Bernal says, and I quote: oh so you’re online but you can’t text me back? I see how it is, with a very disappointed emoji. Then he goes ‘go cheat on me it’s fine-”
“Cheat?” Eric huffs. “Why cheat?”
Pau stays silent, and Joan suppresses a laugh.
“In the next message he… oh, he goes ‘I hope they’re at least wearing your jersey too bro’, and then he says ‘have a nice life’.”
“How dramatic, my god,” Eric chuckles.
Pau still doesn’t say anything.
“Then he says, uhm, I quote again: try falling asleep on your own then.”
There’s another ping, and Joan gasps, sitting up rapidly and turning towards Pau.
“He’s joking, right? About the ‘welcome-kiss’?”
“The what?” Eric barks.
But Pau is now staring back at Joan with his eyes just as wide as Joan’s and his mouth agape.
“A… kiss?”
A slow smile forms on Joan’s face.
“Oh…” he breathes out, suddenly understanding it.
“What did he say, Joan, give me my phone!”
He lets Pau grab his phone back, leans in and smiles softly at the way Pau’s ears turn red once again.
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Eric then asks impatiently.
“Bernal said he won’t give Pau a welcome kiss when he picks him up from the airport.”
“What the fuck.” Everyone is quiet for a moment, then Eric goes again, voice almost booming. “Seriously, what the fuck? What are you two- do you have a boyfriend? And we know nothing about it? Since when are you just kissing teammates?”
“Eric, baby, calm down.”
Joan slings his arm around Pau’s shoulders again and squeezes him, noting how quiet he’s gone.
“When the hell did that happen? And what even happened?”
“Mare meva, nothing really happened,” Pau croaks out. “We… I… I like him, like a lot, like in the way that, uhm, we cuddle at sleepovers and I always want to be around him and I miss him a lot, and…” He drifts off, fiddles with the hem of his shirt, and Joan caresses his shoulder deftly.
“We kissed, like, twice. And he didn’t directly dislike it, but it was more of a joke, you know? Like…”
“Like a dare or something?” Joan asks, but Pau scrunches up his face.
“No… one time we were watching a movie and I almost fell asleep next to him in bed and he was like saying goodnight to me and pulled me closer and we kissed, I don’t even know how, but then we laughed a little afterwards and we both just fell asleep and nothing changed,” Pau retells shyly.
Joan melts a little at the image, he’s seen the way Bernal always looks after Pau, the way the younger one almost lets himself be as free around him as he does around Joan.
“And the other- I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” Pau says then, deflating a little and turning to glare at Joan, who raises his eyebrows.
“Are you still angry at me?”
“Yes,” Pau pouts, and Joan believes there’s not a single bone inside of him capable of being truly angry.
“Well, I for my part would really like to know what else you have done,” Eric then says, his voice still hard like he’s scolding the poor boy.
“But why?” Pau complains.
“Uh, maybe because I need to know if I need to injure or interrogate Bernal?”
“Why would you do that?” Pau hisses.
Joan grins a little at the exchange.
“Do you think we’re just letting anyone date you?” Eric asks back just as incredulously.
“You’re not-” Pau stops himself, looks at Joan, the arm around his shoulder, his phone, and back at Joan again. “Oh my god, you guys are worse than my parents.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, they’re not here right now, we are. Tell us everything,” Eric demands, and Pau hesitates.
“Are you gonna yell at me?”
Joan pouts. “Why would we yell at you?”
“Eric already yelled at me!”
“I’m sorry, bebé,” Eric sighs.
“He’s just overprotective, don’t mind him,” Joan murmurs with a smile.
“Of me?”
“Òbviament.”
Pau stares into the air for a moment, then takes a deep breath and smiles.
“Okay, so… well, the second kiss was after we won the Supercopa. We were really elated and tipsy and, yeah, then we kissed. And I feel like he got more touchy after that first kiss, and sometimes he… I think he compliments me. Like he sits next to me and smiles and says it’s nice how my hair grew out again, or he squeezes my cheek and says I’m cute or some shit, or he tells me I did something crazy in training that I didn’t even notice.”
Joan internally dies from cuteness.
“Well, these texts sure are very obvious,” Eric grumbles then.
“You think? We were always close, so…”
“You two kissed!”
Pau huffs in frustration. “I don’t know if that means anything to him!”
“I’ll give him another eyebrow cut if it doesn’t, fucking hell!”
Joan bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, Eric, tone it down.”
“I’ll hate you if you hurt him,” Pau threatens.
“Oh, fuck me.”
“Soon,” Joan chuckles, and Pau jumps up from the bed with a grimace.
“I hate you both, ew, ew, ew!”
“Paulet, that’s the way of life! What do you think you and Bernal will do in a few-”
“Joan! Shut the fuck up! Don’t even- shut up! This isn’t funny,” Eric yells just as Pau shouts something unintelligible as well, racing to his side of the room.
The goalkeeper holds up both of his hands, tries to fight his chuckle.
“Sorry! Sorry. I’m shutting up. We don’t have much time left anyways.”
“Yeah, I’m hanging up with you now, Eric. I wish I never told you guys,” Pau whines.
“Aw, come on, Pauet. You don’t mean that,” Eric argues, sounding genuinely sad. “T’estimo. Molt. We don’t want some asshole breaking your heart. And you’re still so little, you need to be careful, okay? You always always need to trust your gut, and say no if-”
“Eric, please stop,” Pau pleads now. “I’m not twelve, okay? I get it.”
There’s a small pause.
“And thank you,” he then adds quietly.
Eric lets out a soft noise. “It’s nothing, peque. We’re happy if you’re happy.”
Pau smiles softly. “Thank you…”
“Well, you two have about half an hour until you have to be on the bus, no? Go get ready. And answer your Berni.”
“I will,” Pau replies with a shy grin, and hands his phone one more time to Joan.
“I’m on the toilet. Say goodbye, but I swear don’t get weird.”
Joan chuckles and ruffles his hair, and then smiles down at Eric’s picture when the door closes.
“Alright, baby. I hope the kitchen still stands when I arrive.”
Eric shakes his head with a smile. “When’s the plane landing again? Seven?”
Joan nods.
“I’ll be in the parking lot then. Can’t wait to see you, Joanet,” he smiles, almost wistfully. Joan grins and feels his stomach fluttering, even after all those months of dating.
“Me neither, I missed you like hell.”
Eric pouts a little and blows a kiss to the camera. “Did you see, by the way?” He steps away and tugs at the black shirt he’s wearing, the hem almost reaching his thighs. Joan’s grin widens.
“My shirt?”
Eric nods and winks. “Is Pau back?”
Joan shakes his head.
“You should take it off when you come home, then,” Eric whispers.
Joan blushes and chuckles quietly. “Stop it. I wanna kiss you so bad,” he replies equally quietly.
“Kiss only?” Eric cocks an eyebrow, and Joan eyes the bathroom door.
“Kiss, fuck, cuddle, you name it,” he murmurs.
And now Eric grins again. “That's better. Okay, carinyo, you're gonna be late. I love you very very much, text me when you're on the plane. Or on the bus.”
“Or just every ten minutes,” Joan chuckles.
“Preferably.” Eric grins, his two front teeth showing, and Joan’s heart squeezes at how cute his boyfriend looks.
“I love you too, solet. I’ll text you again.”
Eric blows him another kiss, and Joan sends one back.
“Bye bye, amor meu.”
“Bye bye!”
“Are you hanging up?”
Eric sighs. “No, you.”
Joan pouts. “I don't wanna, I missed you too much.”
“Joanet, no, don't say this or I’ll never hang up,” Eric groans.
“Okay, fine. I’ll hang up.” Joan’s finger hovers over the red button, and he scrunches up his face one more time, scanning Eric and his muscular chest and shoulders wrapped in his black shirt, hair nicely trimmed and falling a little over his forehead, eyes glimmering. “Aquesta nit seré la teva perdició.” (more or less "I'm gonna ruin you tonight.")
And just as Eric’s jaw falls down, he giggles, blows another kiss to the camera and ends the call.
***
Joan takes a deep breath when he exits the airport, relieved at the smell of home, of Barcelona, even if it's filled with exhaust gas and concrete right now.
Pau is right behind him, visibly nervous as he holds the strap of his backpack tightly.
“So, where's Bernal?” Joan asks him with a grin, waiting at the exclusive parking lot with the younger one.
Pau stretches his head, then smiles. “There he is!”
He turns to Joan. “I think I'm nervous.”
Joan chuckles. “Nervous of what? That's your best friend, who might just give you a little kiss.”
Pau blushes. “Right. Yeah. Alright.”
Joan pulls the defender into a side hug and kisses his head.
“Have fun, eh? And relax well. And text us. And stay safe.”
The boy rolls his eyes. “Seriously, I'll ask for adoption papers next time you two go all mother hen on me again.”
“That's Eric’s job,” Joan laughs.
“Say hi to him from me,” Pau tells him as he breaks their hug and walks towards Bernal’s car, turning around and waving one more time.
Joan spots his boyfriend’s car not long after, and opens the door with a grin.
“Joanet!”
Eric greets him, a little surprised, and moves to get out of the car to help him, but Joan stops him.
“No, stay inside. Who knows if anyone’s filming or something.”
The reminder leaves a bitter taste on both Joan’s tongue and Eric's mind, but the second Joan’s stored his luggage in the trunk and sits down, they’re both back to grinning.
“Hey.”
Joan surges forward and kisses him, fingers curling into his black shirt and smiling against his lips.
Eric catches his waist as he leans over and laughs softly.
“So now no one can see us?”
Joan gives him a pained expression. “Let's go home.”