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__joangarcia Gran victòria i porteria a zero! Moltes gràcies culers 💙❤️
ericgm3 Porterazo ni duuuudeeeeesssss 😍
3 minutes ago
joaricverse Eric asking for nudes in Joan’s comments again
garciasquared Maybe he doesn’t know this is public
joaricverse Nah he’s just shameless
dominoluvr posted 3 mins ago and Eric already liked and commented #okay
ericgmjoon he thought we wouldn’t notice that 😍 😐
——
It all started with a bet between Lamine and Raphinha.
Training had just ended, and everyone was back in the locker room—cooling off, showering, changing. Marc was playing ping pong against himself, somehow, while Pau egged him on. Eric sat on the bench, head leaning on Joan’s shoulder, Joan’s hand resting possessively on his leg. He was scrolling through his Twitter feed, just making sure he hadn’t missed anything important during training, like the goals from today’s Segunda División matches. In the background, he could hear Raphinha nagging Lamine about his “nose always buried in that phone,” as usual, but this time, Lamine wasn’t ignoring the jabs.
“Rapha,” he whined. “Look around. Everyone is always on their phone. Why are you only saying it to me?”
Eric glanced up from his own screen to scan the locker room. Sure enough, most of the squad was, like him and Lamine, glued to their phones. Faint video game sounds came from Pedri’s. Robert giggled at a TikTok on his.
“Okay, so you’re all addicts,” Rapha conceded. “But they’re still not as bad as you are!”
Lamine laughed in disbelief.
“Look at Gavi! He’s so lost in his phone if I yell ‘FIRE’ he won’t even move. Watch! FI—“ Raphinha held his hand over Lamine’s mouth before he could finish and create a much bigger problem than the one already brewing. Gavi didn’t look up once.
“I’ll tell you what,” Lamine continued. “I’ll bet you a team dinner that I don’t have the highest screen time on the team.”
Raphinha raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Lamine notoriously never paid for dinner, always guilting them about “letting the youngest pay.”
“I’ll take that action,” Rapha said, and Lamine grinned. “But I have a better idea. Guys!”
The locker room fell silent, and everyone slowly turned their attention to Raphinha. Lamine rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
“Everyone send your screen time in the team group chat,” Raphinha announced. “A screenshot from the app, no cheating. Whoever has the highest pays for team dinner tomorrow night. That’ll teach you all to be addicted to your phones.”
The locker room exploded with protests. Dani yelled something unhappy all the way from the showers.
“You can’t just change the bet!” Lamine sputtered. “This is between you and me!”
“Look, didn’t you want to prove that you’re not the worst? If someone else has a higher screen time than you, they’ll pay, and I’ll lay off you. It’s fair.”
“Fine,” Lamine said, slumping back onto the bench, but the locker room was still chaos around them.
“Guys!” Raphinha snapped again, and everyone shut up again. “We’re doing this. Send your screen time screenshots, now.”
Eric heard a few mumbles around the room, but Raphinha was clearly taking this seriously. Eric turned to look at Joan, who just shrugged as if to say, what’s the worst that could happen?
And yeah, Eric’s angel of a boyfriend, who barely looked at his phone other than to text Eric or his family and whose only social media app was Instagram? He definitely had nothing to worry about. He probably had the lowest screen time of anyone on the team.
Eric, on the other hand, was a much more avid user of…well, all the apps, really. He didn’t post his own content much, but he certainly scrolled. Liked. Left comments under everyone’s posts. And there were a lot of sports to follow, too, so yeah, he made good use of his Instagram, Twitter (both main and burner), and his secret TikTok account that only Joan knew about after he caught him scrolling in bed one night.
But it wasn’t like he had a problem or anything. He certainly wasn’t as bad as Lamine or Gavi. Besides, they were on a team with a bunch of teenagers, who definitely had horrendous phone addictions. So Joan was probably right. What was the worst that could happen?
Eric pulled up the app, which showed his daily average was 11 hours 2 minutes. Huh. Well, it was less than half a day. That was probably respectable, right? But then his brain went ahead and did the math anyway, and if he factored in sleep, training, and matches, that big number 11 started to look…not great, actually. It was admittedly higher than he had expected. But surely the teenagers were worse. Surely Lamine was worse. Lamine was literally never not on his phone.
Eric sighed, took the screenshot, and sent it in the group chat. Others started to do the same.
Frenkie: 4 hours 11 minutes
That made sense. The guy had a whole “minimal phone” philosophy that rivaled Joan’s.
Pedri: 7 hours 36 minutes
It was lower than Eric expected, but he was certain that if they counted Pedri’s Switch hours too, the total would be much closer to his own. Whatever.
Gavi: 9 hours 7 minutes
Eric had thought Gavi’s number would be higher too, especially compared to his 11 hours. But maybe Gavi led a double life where he never looked at his phone when he was at home.
More screenshots rolled in. Dani hurried in from the showers to send his. But no number was higher than Eric’s. Not even from the teenagers.
“Eric,” Raphinha teased, “Still our record holder!”
It wasn’t a great look for him, no. He tried to stay calm, though. Lamine hadn’t sent his screenshot yet. Eric was certain the kid would smash it out of the park with his daily average, and they could forget this ever happened.
“Come on, Lamine. You’re the last one,” Raphinha said.
Lamine looked up from his phone.
“What? Oh. Sorry, I was watching a…” he trailed off when Raphinha raised an eyebrow. The kid was literally proving his point before their very eyes. “Shut up,” he muttered.
A few moments later, Lamine’s screenshot appeared in the group chat.
Lamine: 10 hours 33 minutes.
Eric sat up straight in shock.
The locker room exploded again as everyone realized Lamine had somehow won the bet. Dani snapped a picture of Eric and his dumbstruck expression. Lamine and Gavi were pointing at him and laughing in a corner, high on their unexpected victory.
“Eric Garcia Martret,” Raphinha shouted over the din, “you have officially unseated Lamine to be crowned the new Phone Addict of the Team!”
God, this was humiliating.
Joan brushed a comforting thumb on the back of Eric’s neck, and Eric leaned instinctively into it. He turned to look up at Joan, and was that pity he saw? But when Joan saw Eric’s face, he only started laughing instead—sweetly, in the most Joan way possible, but still laughing. Eric pouted.
“You’re supposed to be on my side!” he said, pulling out of Joan’s grasp to sit farther away. Joan only laughed harder.
“Oh, carinyo, I’m sorry,” he said, calming down, though his eyes stayed bright. “Please don’t be upset.” He reached out to pull Eric back. Eric went unwillingly, arms crossed over his chest, pout still fixed firmly on his face. “It’s just a little funny, is all. Because, you know. You’re worse than Lamine!” Joan’s eyes fully disappeared into his cheeks, shoulders shaking with another bout of laughter.
Eric smacked him lightly on the back.
“I’m about to pay for the entire team’s dinner and you’re laughing?” he asked indignantly.
Joan tugged him back into his side and pressed a quick kiss to his temple.
“I think you’ll live, baby,” Joan promised.
Eric looked up to find Dani taking another photo of them, smirking. He rolled his eyes. His teammates were the worst. Still, he loved them all.
——
The drive home was quiet. Eric seemed lost in thought the whole way, and Joan wasn’t the kind of guy who needed to fill every silence, so they spoke little. Eric just slipped his fingers between Joan’s as he drove, and that was enough.
But later, when Joan was starting on dinner, Eric was still quiet. Too quiet. He seemed to be somewhere in his own world as he slid up onto the kitchen counter.
“Everything all right, carinyo?” Joan asked carefully as he chopped a zucchini.
“Yeah, just…thinking,” Eric murmured.
“About what?”
Eric hummed. For a while, he didn’t give an answer. Joan waited.
“I’ve been thinking about the screen time thing,” Eric said eventually.
Joan paused. He put the knife down and turned to his boyfriend.
“You mean the bet?”
“Yeah. I lost to Lamine, for God’s sake.”
Eric had seemed a little shaken before, in the locker room. Joan hadn’t realized this was still bothering him, although he’d started to suspect it. Eric sometimes got like this after losing a match. It was endearing, to Joan at least, how seriously Eric took all competition.
He crossed the kitchen to where Eric was sitting. He stepped between Eric’s legs and put his hands on his thighs, giving both a squeeze.
“Hey, look at me,” he said, trying to catch Eric’s gaze. “I know you hate losing. But it was just Rapha and Lamine messing around. We weren’t even supposed to be involved. If you think about it, it’s actually Rapha who lost.”
Eric made a frustrated noise.
“I don’t care about that part. I mean, I do. It’s killing me a little, I’ll admit it. But it’s the screen time part that’s bothering me more. Eleven hours a day is a lot, no? For a serious athlete?”
“Oh.”
So that’s what Eric was worried about. Joan’s eyes roamed Eric’s face, trying to decide how to respond. How much to say. He’d pushed down his feelings about Eric’s phone habits for so long he’d let himself believe it didn’t bother him much.
“Do I have a problem, Joan?” Eric asked quietly.
He looked up at Joan with those ridiculous eyes of his, pleading, scared, and okay, they were really doing this. Joan owed him the honesty. He chose his next words carefully.
“Eric…” he began, “You do spend a lot of time on your phone. I know our whole lives are on it these days, and you’re following all those leagues and stuff, but…there’s so much life to live outside the screen too, you know? Sometimes I just wish you were more present for more of it.”
The crushed look on Eric’s face knocked the breath out of Joan’s lungs.
“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Eric whispered.
“I mean, it hasn’t been an issue for me or anything,” Joan rushed to say. “Or I would have said something sooner.”
Joan swallowed the lie. There weren’t any specific incidents that bothered him, but every now and then, he’d catch himself wishing he was cuddling with just Eric and not his phone, too. But he didn’t know how to say that without making him feel even worse, and besides, he seemed to be finding his way to the right answer without it.
“Still,” Eric said. “I don’t like the fact that I didn’t realize that I was doing this. I want to do better.”
“Then that’s all that matters,” Joan said, bringing a hand up to cup Eric’s cheek, brushing it softly.
“But how?” Eric asked, his sad eyes still devastating.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” Joan said gently. “Just small conscious choices. Like tonight, you could help me with dinner. Keep your hands busy. No phones.”
Eric nodded slowly, considering.
“Okay,” he said eventually. “What are we making?”
“Your favorite,” Joan said with a grin. “Pesto pasta. Think you can handle making the pesto while I work on the veggies?”
“Maybe if you show me how to do it,” Eric said with a small smile, and Joan’s stomach did a little flip, because even almost a year in, Eric still had that effect on him. He leaned in and kissed him softly.
“Of course, baby,” he said against Eric’s lips, then pulled back and helped him down from the counter.
He handed Eric the mortar and pestle along with the ingredients. He demonstrated the proper grinding technique, hovered a little bit to make sure Eric had it down, and then went back to slicing vegetables. They found the easy rhythm that came with loving and living with the person you worked best with not just on the pitch, but off it, too.
Dinner was easy too. As they ate, Joan listened to Eric explain (and then opine on) some new rule being added to the upcoming NBA season, trying to follow but mostly just enjoying the sound of Eric’s voice after all that silence.
Joan asked to help with the dishes after, even though that was usually Eric’s territory because he liked the dishwasher loaded a certain way (and used to rearrange the dishes Joan put away when he thought he couldn’t see). To Joan’s pleasant surprise, Eric accepted the help. They found an unspoken rhythm here too, making their way through the pile in half the time it would have taken Eric if he was working alone.
When they were done and it was time to watch their nightly tv episode, Joan eyed Eric as he wordlessly took his phone out of his pocket and put it on the kitchen counter. He smiled to himself and followed Eric to the couch. Joan pulled him closer as they watched, slipping a hand beneath the hem of his shirt to run his fingers up and down the warm expanse of his back, and Eric melted into him.
Joan sighed contentedly. Although it had been a weird one, today was still a good day, he thought. Most days with Eric were.
——
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daniolmo dump
ferrantorres @erigm3 JAJAJAJAJA
ericgm3 Así tenemos problema Daniel.
3 hours ago
dominoluvr ERICS FACE LMAOOOOOOOO
ericgmjoon he’s preparing revenge against Dani as we speak
emma1324 wow Eric is not going to be happy about that photo
dominoluvr His comment 😭😭😭
dominoluvr WAIT IS THAT JOANS HAND ON ERICS THIGH
garciasquared Can’t see Joan’s face but I’d know those big ass hands anywhere
ericgmjoon The size difference we deserve
joaricverse Dani thought if he cropped Joan’s face out we wouldn’t notice him grabbing Eric like that
joancelona JOARIC NATION WE GET A WHOLE MEAL TODAY THANK YOU @daniolmo7
joaricverse THANK YOU @daniolmo7
ericgmjoon THANK YOUUUUUU @daniolmo7
——
Eric came to the decision on a slow Sunday. They had the day off from training, and after the exertion of yesterday’s match, they had decided they deserved a lazy morning in bed. Joan had spent it reading, one hand holding his book, the other drifting through Eric’s hair soothingly, stopping only to turn a page and then resuming. He seemed so at peace, it made Eric’s chest ache.
On the other hand, Eric had spent the morning scrolling. It started when some guy on Twitter posted such an idiotic take about Pau’s defending, Eric couldn’t help but argue back from his burner. That discussion ended pretty quickly after he started bringing up real stats about Pau’s performances and the loser blocked him. But then there was another tweet and another one after that, and then somehow he’d spent the whole morning on his phone.
“I think I need to take a break from social media,” he announced casually while they were folding laundry.
Joan lowered the shirt he’d been holding back into his lap.
“Okay,” he said after a beat. “Um, have people been giving you shit in the comments again?” he asked, voice full of concern. It was sweet how offended Joan still got about that stuff on his behalf, even though Eric had carefully taught himself to tune out the noise.
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Eric said quickly. “I just keep getting sucked into it, you know? I think some time away would do me some good. Just for a few weeks.”
Joan nodded.
“That makes sense,” he said. “Let me know how I can help.”
“For now, just keep me accountable, maybe? If you see me on an app or something.”
“I can do that,” Joan said with a soft smile. God, Eric loved those smiles—not just the big ones that made his eyes disappear, but the smaller ones too, the ones that he knew were just for him. He bit his lip to hold back a giggle.
“Thank you,” he managed instead.
Joan tugged Eric closer and pressed his lips to his temple.
“I’m proud of you, carinyo,” Joan murmured, looking down at him.
Eric flushed and looked away.
“They’re just apps,” he mumbled, tracing the edge of Joan’s shorts with his finger.
“Sure,” Joan said, “But you decided you wanted to do things differently, and now here you are, actually taking the steps. So let me be proud of you.”
“Okay,” Eric said with a sigh, hiding his own smile as he grabbed another pair of training shorts from the laundry basket.
——
The day before the World Cup squad announcement, so much nervous energy was thrumming through Joan’s veins he thought he might explode. He knew he’d done everything he could—he’d put up a great first season at Barça and won the Zamora along the way, for crying out loud—but he’d never let himself want the call-up this bad until now, and he didn’t know what to do with himself about it.
Though he was clearly trying to hide it, Joan knew Eric was nervous, too, hoping he’d hear his name only in the parts of his mind he thought Joan couldn’t see. He’d talked a big game about how he was looking forward to a slow, relaxing summer, but Joan had never known Eric to slow down for a single moment of his life. And he’d worked so hard over the last year, and he deserved a spot on the team. It was a shame it wasn’t Joan that got to make those decisions.
“Let’s go for a hike today,” Joan suggested at breakfast. “I feel like I’m going crazy here. I need to do something other than wait.”
“Sure, baby, we can do that,” Eric said brightly.
They downed their food quickly, packed the essentials into a small bag, and headed out to Joan’s car. Joan drove them out to one of his favorite trails, a longer one that was a little further from home but had views that more than made up for it.
The hiking itself did wonders for both of them. Joan felt the peace he’d missed so much return with each step, and he could see the tension in Eric’s shoulders easing slowly.
They arrived at an overlook along the way that allowed them a view of the city, and Joan pulled Eric with him to come see it. The sight of the city that always seemed larger than life, now looking so small from so far away, always reminded Joan that the problems he was so worried about down there were probably smaller than he thought, too. He hoped the view could have the same effect for Eric.
“I think I can see our house from here,” Eric said instead, pointing in the completely wrong direction.
“Eric!” Joan said with a giggle, swatting at his hand. “Quit joking around! You’re supposed to be taking in the view. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Eric shrugged.
“I’ve seen better,” he said with a glint in his eye, dragging his gaze up and down Joan’s body.
“Eric!” Joan spluttered.
“What?” Eric asked innocently. “I just think it looks nicer at the top of the trail.”
Joan rolled his eyes and turned back to the city, still a little flustered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eric pull his phone out, quickly snap a picture of Joan, and tuck it back in his pocket.
“So you can compare them later,” he said. “Now let’s keep going.”
He pulled Joan by the wrist and they walked back to the trail to continue on their way.
As the sun reached its peak in the sky, Joan started to really feel the early summer heat. He pulled his shirt off and tucked it into the waistband of his shorts, and he looked up to find Eric’s eyes unabashedly pointed at his now-bare chest.
“What?” Joan asked.
“Nothing,” Eric said. “I just think the view at the top of this trail is gonna be really, um. Good. A really really good view.”
Joan snorted.
“You’re shameless,” he teased.
“I just think my boyfriend is hot,” Eric said with a shrug. He took another step, now close enough to trail his fingers along Joan’s abdominal muscles, his breath intermingling with Joan’s. He leaned in even closer, and Joan inhaled sharply.
“We’d better keep going,” he said, forcing himself to turn away. “Or I’m gonna find a way to put a baby in you in the middle of this trail.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Eric said as he followed close behind.
Joan chuckled and kept walking. Along the way, Eric grew quieter and quieter.
“I really want to be called up,” he said finally, somewhere near the top. “I know I’ve been saying I don’t care, but I do.”
“I know,” Joan said gently. When Eric didn’t say more, he continued. “It’s okay to want it, Eric. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to represent your country on the world’s biggest stage. And you deserve it just as much as the guys who are sleeping easy tonight because they know they’ll hear their names tomorrow.”
“It’s not just that,” Eric said. “It feels like— like getting the call would mean that I actually deserve everything I’ve already achieved.”
“What do you mean?” Joan asked.
“What’s the point of winning trophy after trophy if I still can’t make it onto my national team when it really matters?” Eric asked, frustration evident. “I feel like a fraud. Like I cheated my way to the top at Barcelona, and the people at the selección can see through it.”
Joan stopped in his tracks and turned around. He never knew that Eric still doubted himself like this. Everyone knew Eric was the most reliable player in the squad, the one who could deliver a quality performance in any position. Plenty of youngsters looked up to him and sought him out for advice, advice he gave openly because he wanted to do everything he could to help them grow. How did he not see that he’d been a core reason for Barcelona’s success?
“Eric,” Joan said with a click of his tongue. “How can you say that? You’re an irreplaceable part of this team. So many of us have become better players thanks to you. And we’ve all seen the work you put in. You’ve earned every title you have the hard way.”
“But what good is that if I’m not good enough for Spain?”
What hurt Joan most was not hearing Eric say those words, but the fact that he seemed to really believe them.
“Would you say that to Gerard or Balde if they don’t get called up?” Joan asked. Eric was silent. “Would you say it to me?” he asked more quietly. “That my saves and my Zamora and my first ever league title don’t matter because I didn’t make the national team?”
“No,” Eric said immediately, his voice small. “Of course not.”
“Then why would it be true for you?”
Eric said nothing.
“Look, we have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow,” Joan said. “Both of us could be headed to the World Cup. Or neither of us. But regardless, it won’t be what makes or breaks our value as footballers. What matters is how we perform with the opportunities we do get.”
Eric’s throat bobbed and he nodded.
“Okay,” he said thickly. “Thank you, Joan.”
“Now come on,” Joan said with a smirk, turning back to the trail. “I hear there’s a great view up there.”
Later that evening, they were sprawled on the couch, limbs aching pleasantly from the hike. Eric was lying half on top of Joan, head nestled on his chest, their legs tangled together. Joan was swiping through the apparently very many pictures Eric had taken of him on the hike. It was like having his own personal paparazzi.
“I really do like that photo,” Eric said when Joan landed on the one from the overlook. “You look so…happy.”
Joan swiped again, to the last photo Eric had taken, at the top of the trail, his shirt off, sweat glistening on his bare skin. Eric had actually asked him to pose for that one.
“I like this one more,” Joan said.
“I mean, I know why I like this one, but why do you like it?”
“Because I can tell from my face that I’m looking at you. I look like I’m so in love, because I am.”
Eric looked back up at Joan with a raised eyebrow.
“Is that so?”
Joan nodded sagely. Eric grabbed the phone out of Joan’s hand and tossed it onto the other side of the couch, far out of reach. He turned to sit across Joan’s lap and leaned in to kiss him, long and sweet, his fingers threading through Joan’s hair.
“I love you too,” he said when he came up for air. “So much.”
Joan bit his lip and pulled him back down for another kiss.
——
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__joangarcia ⛰️
paucubarsi ❤️❤️
2 days ago
dominoluvr Eric still hasn’t liked Joan’s post btw
joaricverse Joaric divorce????
joancelona 3 weeks ago bro was thirsting over his keeper in the comments and now not even a like…
garciasquared Guys this joaric radio silence I don’t feel good
ericgmjoon Whoever said Joaric divorce TAKE IT BACK
——
Dani came over to watch the squad announcement with them, bringing with him plenty of confidence to balance out Eric and Joan’s nerves. Joan laid out snacks and drinks, and Eric switched the TV on and tried not to throw up, and God, could it just be over already? He wished he could black out and wake up in August instead of feeling like this.
Joan’s words on the hike yesterday had helped. Eric tried to find his way to a healthier mindset about the call-ups. But it didn’t change the fact that he wanted the opportunity to play on the biggest stage, and it didn’t change the fact that, even more, he wanted Joan to have that opportunity too.
Dani talked loudly about some shenanigans he’d gotten up to with Ferran and Pedri the day before, and Eric appreciated the attempt at distraction. Then the broadcast began, and they fell silent. Eric’s nausea returned. Dani pointed his camera at them, filming. Eric rolled his eyes. Always filming, that guy.
The video opened with a couple of speeches, and the monologues about dreams and unity were nice, Eric thought, but if they didn’t get on with the squad list soon he was going to pass out.
“Porteros,” the guy onscreen finally said, and Eric sighed in relief. And then he held his breath again because here it was, Joan’s moment.
“Unai Simon.”
Sure. Whatever. Eric liked the guy fine.
“David Raya.”
Okay, what order were they even going in?
“Joan Garcia—”
Eric had barely even heard it when they all leaped up from their seats. Joan screamed. Dani screamed louder. Eric jumped into Joan’s arms, throwing his legs around his waist, screaming the loudest of the three.
“You did it, baby!” Eric shouted, and kissed Joan fiercely. He was so, so proud of his goalkeeper. And he loved him so, so much. Joan laughed softly and kissed him back, his arms coming up around his waist to hold him tight, and Eric tasted salt between their lips. He pulled back to wipe Joan’s tears.
“I’m going to the World Cup,” Joan said, eyes shining, looking at Eric so fondly.
“I’m still here, you know,” Dani said weakly. Eric ignored him.
“I’m so proud of you, Joan,” he said. “You deserve it so—”
“Eric Garcia,” came the voice from the TV, and everyone froze. The announcers continued to list more names.
“Did they just say my name?” Eric asked, turning in Joan’s arms.
“I think so,” Joan breathed.
“Rewind it, Dani,” Eric said frantically, needing to be sure he’d heard correctly, his heart suddenly going a million miles a minute. He clung to Joan like a koala, like if he pulled away he’d drop into an alternate reality where he hadn’t been called up after all.
“I’m working on it,” Dani said, grabbing the TV remote and punching at buttons, but the announcement video kept going.
“Why aren’t you rewinding?” Eric demanded.
“It’s a livestream, I can’t fucking rewind it!” Dani shouted, still hitting buttons on the remote.
“—Delanteros,” the announcer said.
“Oh, hey, this is my part,” Dani said.
Eric groaned and dropped his face onto Joan’s shoulder.
“I feel like I’m gonna die,” he complained.
“I really think they said your name, carinyo,” Joan said in a low voice, his thumb stroking Eric’s waist through the fabric of his shirt.
“I need to hear it again,” Eric said. “Just to be sure.”
The live stream finally came to an end with Lamine’s name.
“Oh, thank God,” Eric said.
“I made the squad, by the way,” Dani said.
“Yes, Dani, and I’m very happy for you,” Eric said. “Now rewind the fucking video!”
Dani muttered something but grabbed the remote, pressing a few buttons to get to the right part of the video, and the announcer’s voice came back on.
“Defensas.”
There it was. Eric’s part.
They named a few other players first, all of whom Eric liked, and he made a mental note to send congratulations messages to them all. Then, finally:
“Eric Garcia,” the announcer said, and Eric sagged into Joan and buried his face in his neck, finally at ease.
“I’m really going,” he said, his voice muffled in Joan’s skin. Joan rubbed circles over his back.
“Yes, baby,” he said. “You did it!”
“Congratulations, germanet,” Dani said, walking over to ruffle his hair. “You deserve it so much.”
“Thanks, guys,” Eric said, holding back tears. “I’m really proud of both of you, too. We’re gonna go win ourselves a World Cup!”
Joan pressed his lips to the top of Eric’s head and sat them back down on the couch.
“Yes we are,” he murmured.
——
Joan’s first call-up for the selección, back in the spring, had been fun. He thought he would feel out of place, since everybody else already knew each other and all, but it turned out his old friends hadn’t changed much from when they were sixteen, so almost everyone was familiar. And besides, his Barcelona friends stuck by him the whole time to help him feel settled in. In fact, they’d been so overbearing he had to beg them to fuck off so he could have some alone time.
Joan’s second call-up felt very different. There was, of course, the added layer of seriousness of representing Spain in the world’s biggest competition. But there was also the new joy of getting to wake up next to Eric every day and experience that dream together, a joy that compared to nothing else he’d ever experienced. Was this what Ferran and Pedri got to feel all these years?
Most days at the national team camp were slow, almost syrupy. Every day, there was team breakfast, training, and usually a strategy session over lunch, but after that, the day was theirs. Today, Eric had decided that the whole group was going to sunbathe by the pool—something about “perfecting his tan,” which Joan rolled his eyes at but agreed to. He was more the burning type than the tanning type, but Eric had pleaded with him to come, and Joan would admittedly never pass up an opportunity to ogle his boyfriend glowing under the sun. Ferran and Pedri, social butterflies that they were, had begged off to catch up with their other friends, so it would be just him, Eric, and Dani, and Pau had asked to tag along, too.
“Help me get my back?” Joan asked, handing Eric the bottle of sunscreen once they’d finished getting ready. Eric obliged, rubbing the cream into Joan’s back exceptionally thoroughly, his touch so soothing that Joan’s knees went momentarily weak. Eric’s fingers lingered on his skin, brushing lightly over the planes of his back, and if he didn’t wrap it up soon, Joan thought they might have a problem on their hands. Eric pressed a kiss to the back of Joan’s neck, and then another, and honestly fuck the sunbathing, he was going to—
A loud banging sounded on their door.
“Come on, we’re ready!” Dani shouted.
Joan groaned and stepped out of Eric’s grasp.
“We’ll be right out!” Joan shouted back. He grabbed their towels and gently pushed Eric towards the door. “Later,” he promised him quietly. Eric smirked and opened the door to Dani and Pau.
When they got to the pool, everyone chose their lounge chairs and sat, but Eric remained standing. Joan patted the open seat next to him, but Eric shook his head and then sat down on the other end of Joan’s chair. Joan shrugged and lied back, throwing an arm across his face to shield his eyes from the sun. He could feel Eric moving somewhere near his feet.
“Smile, guys!” he heard Dani say, just as he felt Eric shift to settle between his legs and lie down on his chest.
Joan looked up to find Dani holding his phone up for a selfie but now making a face at them.
“You two are ridiculous,” he said. “Can’t even take any pictures anymore because you guys are constantly doing—” he gestured vaguely, “—whatever that is.”
Pau giggled.
“I think it’s sweet,” he said. “Maybe I’ll find love like that one day.”
“Pau, I really hope you find someone who makes you happy,” Dani said, then pointed his thumb at them. “But that is not normal.”
Eric just held a middle finger up to them without looking up and nestled closer.
A few days later, on their day off, Eric went into town with Ferran, leaving Joan alone for the day. He needed a birthday present for his niece, and Dani’s girlfriend had asked him to bring back some face cream that was apparently only sold in American stores, so they wound up at the mall together.
“So, you and Eric have gotten even worse lately,” Dani said in a teasing tone as they walked between the shops, blissfully anonymous in this small town in the middle of nowhere, America. “You’re all over each other all the time.”
Joan hummed, not sure what to say to that.
“What I mean to say,” Dani said more seriously, “is that you guys seem even closer than before. We joke about it, but it’s nice to see. I’m happy for you.”
“Oh, well thanks,” Joan said with a chuckle. “I guess we’ve just been…connecting better, you know? Like, we were always good, but now we’re great.”
Eric’s social media break had done wonders for their relationship. Eric had become happier, more present—and maybe a little needier, too, but Joan really didn’t mind that at all—and yeah, Joan felt even closer to him as a result.
But Dani made a gagging noise and took a dramatic step away from Joan.
“Please stop talking,” he said. “I do not want to know any more about your sex lives than I already do.”
Joan laughed.
“That’s not what I meant, I swear!” he said. “We just—”
“Nope! This conversation is over now,” Dani decided. “I’m happy for you guys or whatever, and now we’re moving on. Sephora sounds like a place that sells face cream, right?”
——
Liked by ferrantorres and others
daniolmo Semana con la selección
ferrantorres Borra eso
6 hours ago
joancelona guys joaric divorce might be real all we have in this Olmo dump is one measly pic of joan
joaricverse Dani taking Joan’s side in the divorce I always knew I liked him
dominoluvr @daniolmo7 I NEED SIGNS OF JOARIC LIFE PLEASE IM BEGGING
dominoluvr @daniolmo7 IF I DONT GET ANY JOARIC CRUMBS WITHIN 24 HOURS IM DOING SOMETHING DRASTIC
dominoluvr @daniolmo7 PLEASE IF YOU SEE THIS A GIRLS LIFE HANGS IN THE BALANCE
ericgmjoon Might be an Eric girlie but I’m taking Joans side I just know Eric did something shady
garciasquared I miss my family :((
——
Eric collapsed onto Joan’s chest, spent. He waited a few minutes to catch his breath and then slowly eased off of Joan to roll onto the hotel bed next to him, his legs shaking.
They stayed like that a while longer, fingers intertwined on the sheets between them, chests still heaving.
And then Joan made to get up, and Eric pulled him back down.
“Stay,” he whined.
“I’ll be back,” Joan said with a chuckle. “I was just gonna go get something to clean you up.”
“I know, but then you’ll go take your shower and leave me here all alone,” Eric said with a pout.
This had been their post-sex routine for as long as Eric could remember. Joan would help Eric clean up, always perfectly gentle and caring, but then he’d go off to take a shower, and Eric would reach for his phone, and any tenderness remaining from earlier would dissipate by the time Joan got back from the bathroom. It was yet another part of their lives that Eric hadn’t before realized was touched by his attachment to the screen.
In two days, Spain would play its first match of the World Cup, and with it, Eric’s social media cleanse would come to a close. The time he’d taken away from the apps had helped him see all the things he’d missed out on while his nose was buried in his phone, and his mission now was to make sure he continued to take all those moments back, even now that his break from those apps was over.
“Do you want to get in the shower with me?” Joan asked with a mischievously raised eyebrow.
“Nooooo,” Eric said. “I mean, yes, later, maybe. But I want to cuddle now. Please?”
Joan’s eyes softened.
“Of course, baby,” he said. “I would love that. Let me clean us up first, though.”
“Okay,” Eric said with a satisfied smile.
Joan hopped up off the bed and returned soon after with a washcloth in hand. As gentle as ever, he wiped Eric clean, and then Eric helped him do the same, cleaning the mess he’d made on Joan’s stomach.
And then Joan pulled Eric close and laid them down, his chest warm against Eric’s back, their legs a tangled mess. Their breaths slowed until they synchronized, and the post-sex haze settled around them comfortably. Eric had never felt more at home.
And then Joan started tracing his fingertips along Eric’s abs and the insides of his thighs, his touch deliberately lingering. Eric gasped as Joan moved his hand higher, higher, higher up his leg, and he felt himself start to get hard again. He whacked Joan’s wrist playfully as he pressed a kiss to Eric’s neck.
“I ask to cuddle and this is what you do?” he asked in feigned indignation. “You take advantage of me in my weakened state?”
“You’re lying here, all pretty, I can’t help it,” Joan said with a smile that Eric felt against his skin. And then his teeth grazed Eric’s shoulder and his world flipped upside down again.
He shoved Joan’s hands away and turned around to face him, and then he pulled him back in and kissed him slow and eager, cursing his phone for ever robbing him of the prospect of second-round sex.
——
Liked by __joangarcia and others
ericgm3 Primer partido, primera victoria, y primer gol con la selección. Seguimos! #VamosEspaña
ferrantorres Eres delantero o que
daniolmo MVP
2 hours ago
joaricverse JOARIC NAYSHUN WAKE UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
ericgmjoon DIVORCE ERA IS OVER
dominoluvr Joan grabbing ass AND kissing forehead this greedy greedy man
emma1324 He making sure everyone knows Eric is taken
joancelona Making out on the pitch would be straighter than whatever is going in that photo
garciasquared MY FAMILY IS FINALLY BACK TOGETHER