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The first time Lionel Messi meets Cristiano Ronaldo it's when he's on patrol with Geri.
As Seekers, it's their job to catch the Runners. And Leo is the best Seeker the world has ever seen. He’s caught over 700 people. He is the undisputed king. He has never lost someone.
At least not until he met a curly haired Portuguese named Cristiano Ronaldo.
He and Geri were patrolling a more shifty corner of the city where Runners ran rampant. It was the one place where Runners outnumbered Seekers and that was why he and Gerard had been sent to handle it. One touch from them would instantly kill a Runner, and since their numbers were rising, only the best of the best were sent.
But they’re alarmingly good at hiding here. He barely sees anyone. Then there’s a light whisper coming from an alley.
"How long are we going to do this, Cris?"
"As long as we have to." Another voice says, slightly louder. More snappish.
"I'm tired of this shit, man. I want to-"
"Don't talk like that. Please."
Gerard turned to Leo, grinning widely.
There were Runners in that alley. Leo jerked his chin towards the entrance and they crept in.
Two men almost exactly their ages are almost entirely buried in a dumpster. Gerard comes to a stop, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Leo pokes his side, glancing at him warningly.
“There's nothing here," one of them hops back out and he dusts his heavily tattooed hands off, turning to say something else when he catches sight of Leo and Gerard.
“Cris," he whispers
The other guy jumps out of his bin, throwing an apple into the air and catching it deftly.
“What-oh hello."
He’s tall, dark haired and brown eyed and he doesn't look scared to see Leo or Gerard. He looks bored. Almost unimpressed.
Gerard cocks his head
“Hi.”
Cris takes a bite from his half eaten apple, the crunch echoing through the empty alley.
"I suppose you're here to catch us, then."
"You'd be right," Leo raises an eyebrow
"Unfortunately, we've got a busy schedule." Cris said with a grin and a mock salute.
The tattooed guy throws a tin can straight at Geri's face and while both of them are momentarily distracted, they scaled the ladders on the sides of the buildings and raced onto the roof.
Leo takes a second to groan. He doesn’t like heights. But it’s his duty to follow, so follow he does. He could hear both of them laughing as they leaped from one roof to the other, both he and Gerard hot on their heels.
“Oh, you're good," the tattooed man tossed over his shoulder as they made a particularly difficult jump.
"Well, he's Leo Messi. What would you expect?" Geri quips back
"Someone taller." He replied, jumping over a ledge onto a roof significantly higher than the one they’re currently on.
Leo skidded to a stop. That jump was near impossible, and he knew for a fact he wouldn't get over it.
Cris and the other guy stop as well, peering at them.
They're smiling.
“I'll see you again, I hope." Cris calls
"It won't end well for you." Gerard snarls.
Cris tosses a delighted, nonchalant grin over his shoulder as he turns away.
"No, I think it'll be a repeat of this time. Come on Sergio. Let's go."
The second time they see each other, Leo's pride is a little wounded so he gives it his best, but Cris has figured out his aversion to heights and sticks to the roofs whenever they see each other.
The third time is different. Leo barely glances at the dozens of Runners racing past him, his sights solely set on one Cristiano Ronaldo. He combs the entire city and when he finds Cris alone in another alley, Sergio's not with him. He’s a lot dirtier than the last time Leo saw him. His shirt has a rip in the front and it makes the Seeker a little sick when he realises he can count each rib. Cris catches sight of him, scrambling onto a nearby roof and he looks down at Leo.
"You coming up?"
"Why don't you come down?" Leo crosses his arms
"Give me that burger and I might,"
"My burger?" Leo glances at the package half poking out of his backpack.
"Yes, Messi. Not much to eat in the dumpsters today," a flash of teeth as he bares them in a crooked grin.
"Fine." Leo pulls it out and throws it up. Cris opens it, eats half of it so quickly it’s like he inhales it, and wraps the other half up carefully and shoving it into his own backpack before starting to climb down.
"No catching me until both feet touch the ground, okay?" He glances at Leo, all playfulness gone.
"That's unfair." Leo rolls his eyes.
"No it's not. What’s unfair is the fact that you can kill me with a single touch." He counters, and unlike the last two times, Cris isn’t laughing when they race through the alleys, always in sight but never within reach. And when Leo gets delayed by a woman hanging out her clothes, he loses the elusive Cristiano Ronaldo yet again.
The fourth time they meet, Leo's attending some play a school is putting on. It's in the park, and right now the younger kids are on stage, doing some play about a princess, a thief and her pet tiger.
Cristiano is perched carefully in a tree, almost completely obscured by leaves. Leo pretends not to see him, because trying to catch him now would result in chaos. He keeps an eye on him though, and sees that he smiles when a boy with brown curly hair comes on stage for his part. A genie, Leo notes with amusement. That’s when he notices the resemblance. At first thinks it might be his brother, because they look so similar. But then after the play is over, a woman comes up, planting a kiss on the side of his head.
"Sorry your pai couldn't come."
“Yeah. Me too." The boy looked at the tree and smiled.
And Leo's heart jumps in his throat. Cris has a son?
The fifth time they meet Leo asks Cris about his son and they talk for hours. It doesn’t matter that Cris is talking to him from a roof and that Leo isn’t allowed to come within six feet of the ladder. Cris smiles a lot. And he laughs just as much. When he smiles his eyes crinkle, and his nose scrunches just a little bit. It doesn’t really matter that Cris is a Runner and Leo is a Seeker because right now they’re just two people in their early twenties, talking about their favourite foods, football clubs, and nothing really matters. Leo doesn’t need to think about constantly increasing his numbers, and it’s a nice change. He feels more relaxed than he has in a long time.
The sixth time they meet Cris doesn't go to sit on a roof. They sit on opposite corners of a fairly low lying roof that Cris picked for Leo’s benefit, smoking and blowing billowing clouds of white into the night sky.
The seventh time they meet, Leo puts on dishwashing gloves, covers his face very carefully in scarves, puts a thick layer of lipstick on his lips and goes to meet Cris, who laughed until he cried.
"What-why are you wearing that?"
"Because I want to kiss you but I don't want you to die."
"And lipstick will stop me from dying?" Cris’s lips twitch, and sensing another laughing fit, Leo hurries to explain.
"It won't be my skin touching you. I hope."
Cris shrugged, smile almost shy as he moved towards Leo.
"Some boys are cute enough to die for."
And then they were kissing, Leo's hands barely touching Cris's waist-just in case. It was rushed and Leo didn’t dare move at all, because of which it was hardly the best kiss either of them had ever had, but it was enough. Cris holds Leo’s hand for the rest of night as they walk through dark alleys.
He looks for Cris for a few months after that, but he never finds him, and his heart sinks. He can’t stop himself from wondering if Cris got caught.
No he didn’t. He’d know. He’d feel it in his bones, and he knows Cris is alive. But he doesn’t want to meet, and though a part of Leo wishes it were different, he knows that it’s the right thing to do. Seekers and Runners don’t mix. What if he accidentally touched Cris one day? So he stops looking. He gets married. He moves on.
The eighth time they meet, it's because Leo needs help and he has no idea what to do or where to go. His own son has been born and has been branded as a Runner.
The streak of red on his face is terrifying to Leo, who doesn't dare to even hold him.
Then, wearing four layers of rubber latex gloves and one pair of rubber dishwashing gloves, he tells Anto what he’s going to do, and when she tearfully agrees, he goes in search of Cristiano.
He doesn’t find him, but he does find Sergio, who takes one look at Leo’s tear stained face, one look at the red streak on his son’s face and flies around the corner, promising he’ll bring Cris. It only takes five minutes for Cris to appear, breathing harshly as he raises an eyebrow.
"This is my son," Leo says, voice hoarse.
Cris peers carefully into the bundle and his face goes very pale, his own red streak standing stark against his tan, dirt streaked face.
"Please. Keep him." Leo holds him out, hands shaking.
"Leo, do you understand what that means?" he lifts his shirt, showing Leo the grisly way his stomach is caved in.
"I don't have a choice, Cris. He can't die." Leo says insistently, hoping and praying that Cris takes him quickly because if he doesn’t, Leo knows he’ll never let go. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but he’s crying, and he couldn’t care less. No one ever told him it would feel this terrible.
"What's his name?" Cris is almost smiling
"Mateo. Mateo Messi."
"Leo-" Cris hedges, still uncertain,
"Please, Cris. They'll kill him, please."
Leo has enemies. Far too many to keep track of, and it would be almost laughably easy for one of them to get their disgusting hands on his second son.
There's a long silence. Then Cris carefully picks Mateo up, avoiding Leo's hands. He smiles down at Mateo. "I'll take care of him, Leo."
"I know you will." Leo carefully takes Cris's wrist, dropping a light kiss onto the tattered shirt just above his wrist. "Thank you."
Cris smiles weakly, then, Mateo in hand, climbs deftly up the ladder. Leo doesn't see him for a while after that. He throws himself into his work, revelling in the way the sirens blare at the sight of him, at the fear in their faces, because he is Lionel Messi, and he is quick, and cunning and lethal. He has the highest catch count in the entire world and that will not change. He stops himself from thinking about Mateo. It’s far too risky to go see him.
He’s in a school. He doesn’t really like doing schools much after Mateo, but he can’t dispute an assignment.
And yet, when he sees a little boy with a red streak on his face crying as he backs into a corner, he offers him a smile and races after an older woman. A teacher, he thinks. It’s laughably easy to catch her.
It's Cris who finds him a year later in the same alley they met the first time. Leo falls to his knees.
Mateo is chubby, and fair, and dark eyed with a smile that quickly becomes the center of his world.
He glances at Cris, confused, clutching his hand.
“Who’s that?” He whispers, holding a hand over his mouth as if that’ll prevent Leo from hearing. Leo let’s out a laugh, half crying as he does.
“That’s your Papa. You remember I told you about him?” Cris let’s go of his hand, letting Mateo take a few steps forward.
"Papá?" He asks, and his voice is sweet and high and melodious, and Leo almost cries.
"Mateo," he whispers and Mateo starts to run forward, but Cris is quicker and he catches him by the back of his shirt.
"No touching, remember?" Mateo’s face crumples a little, but he nods.
"Can I show him my toy-"
Cris glances behind Leo, at the streets full of people.
“Alright. Why don't you get onto the roof, your Papa will be up there in a second."
Mateo climbs up slowly with Cris's help and disappears from view.
"Will he be okay?" Leo watches him worriedly
"He grew up on these roofs. He'll be fine," Cris smiles after him.
"How is he so healthy? I didn't think you all found much to eat down here."
"Eh," Cris shrugs "we were lucky."
"Liar. Tell me the truth." Leo crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow
"We all give him as much as he can
possibly eat from our own haul each day."
"Cris-"
"Don't give me that,” Cris hisses "I agreed to do this."
"Show me," he whispers and Cris lifts his shirt with an exaggerated eye roll to reveal ribs so pronounced that Leo has to look away.
"His aren't like that," Cris says quickly "he's perfectly healthy. Nando used to be a doctor and-"
"I trust you, Cris." Leo says simply. "Were there ever any close calls?"
"A few," he shrugs
"How do you get him away?"
“I stole a lady's chest harness thing. If any Seekers come looking, I just put him in and we get out of there fast."
A bird chirps from somewhere and Cris smiles.
"That's Mateo."
"That's-"
"That's how I signal to him. It means there’s a Seeker nearby.” Cris jerks his chin at the roof “come on. Both of you have time to make up for.”
Cris leads Leo up, and very firmly tells Mateo that there will be no touching at all. As Mateo is agreeing, there’s a laugh from behind them.
They turn to see a man, clapping sarcastically.
“I always knew there was a disgusting resemblance between that kid and the Seeker.”
“Step away, Koke.” Cris growls, taking a step in front of Mateo.
“Alright. Keep in mind you’re not the only one with Seeker friends.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“You’ve made a lot of enemies, Crissy. And so has your friend there. I’m sure one of them would be more than happy to take that kid off your hands and give him straight to a Seeker.”
Cris’s eyes flash, but he remains standing where he is. He can’t risk anything with Mateo around. Leo, however, has no such qualms.
He takes a step forward
“You want to rethink that?”
Koke smiles, wide and slow.
“No.”
Leo looks at the red streak on his face, then looks straight into his eyes. Then he smiles.
“Run.”
Koke seems confused for a second, but when Leo runs straight at him, he gets the memo quickly enough. Leo doesn’t give up until he’s caught the bastard, though. No one threatens his son. Or Cris, for that matter.
His finger brushes the back of Koke’s bare neck. Koke evaporates into a mess of blood. Leo wipes the blood off his face before turning to face Cris and Mateo. Cris nods, giving him a slight smile, but Mateo grabs at Cris’s hand.
“That’s a Seeker!” He says in alarm “we have to run!”
“No we don’t. That’s your Papa, he won’t hurt you.”
“But that man died!” Mateo is getting visibly upset, and Leo knows enough about toddlers to recognise when they’re shit scared, so he steps a healthy distance away.
“That was a very bad man, Mateo. Your Papa just saved us,” Cris says gently, crouching down at eye level. “Look he’s acting so silly, how could he hurt you?” He glares at Leo pointedly
Panicking, Leo sticks out his tongue and crosses his eyes. Mateo stares solemnly at him. He sounds almost disgusted when he says
“Are you sure that’s my Papa?”
Cris makes an odd, choking sound.
“Yes,” he wheezes “that’s your Papa.”
Mateo whispers something in his ear, and Cris nods, digging a train and a car out of his backpack. Mateo takes them and approaches cautiously, holding the car out to Leo. Throat becoming embarrassingly thick, Leo carefully takes it, and sits down with his son, and plays with him until long after the sun sets, ignoring the way his knees bark in pain, because that smile on Mateo’s face is infinitely more precious than anything in the world.
He doesn’t expect Mateo to look up at him, dark eyes serious.
“Why did you leave me, Papa?”
“I didn’t want to. It was the hardest thing I ever did.”
“But why?”
“Because you’re not safe with me,” Leo chokes out
“Please don’t leave this time,” Mateo tilts his head, curls bouncing around his face, giving Leo a small, hopeful, toothy smile.
“I’m sorry, Matu, I can’t.” Leo’s heart feels like it stopped beating as the smile on his face fades. As he looks down again, paying an intense amount of concentration to his train. Leo glances at Cris, who just shrugs helplessly.
“It’s okay,” Mateo says, and his voice shakes a little “I understand.” He picks up his train and walks towards Cris.
“I want to go home now,” he says quietly
“Alright,” Cris says “come on”
He puts Mateo into the harness, and Mateo promptly puts his head on his shoulder, puts his thumb in his mouth and falls asleep. Leo stops trying to fight the burning in his eyes as he buries his face in his hands
“Oh god,” he groans
Cris crouches in front of him, eyes warm.
“Hey, it’s okay. He’s young. He’ll understand as he grows.”
When Leo doesn’t bother to answer, he looks pained, rubs Leo’s arm a few times
“I’ll see you later,” he says, then he’s gone, with just the crunching of gravel as he leaps over roofs.