fatal flaw, part II.
Title: Fatal Flaw
Chapter: 2 / 6
Characters: Fernando Torres / Sergio Ramos, Xabi Alonso / Steven Gerrard, David Silva / David Villa, Frank Lampard / John Terry, Raúl / Guti, Cesc Fàbregas, Fernando Gago, Iker Casillas, Xavi Hernández, Rubén de la Red, Pepe Reina, Daniel Agger, Sami Hyypiä, Gonzalo Higuaín, Didier Drogba, Santi Cazorla, Álvaro Arbeloa, Sergio "Kun" Agüero, Rafael Benítez, José Mourinho. Not all characters appear in every part and in equal measure.
Rating: R
Warnings: AU. Infrequent language, violence and sex.
Disclaimer: It's about superheroes - how real could it possibly be?
Summary: The Force is a group of superheroes determined to save the city of Despertia from the unfathomable and relentless attacks of villains Raúl and Guti. But sometimes it is the heroes who need to be saved from their own fatal flaws.
Notes: Based on a wonderful prompt by nahco3 at footie_exchange. Apologies to those who have already seen this.
Feedback > life. If you feel the need to give constructive criticism, please do.
Previous parts: Part I
They weren't even close to the final throes, Fernando thrusting harder into Sergio, smiling faintly as he saw his lover's fingers grip the sheets, the pillows, anything, for a little support. Sergio whimpered a little, loving it but wanting it to reach its end so badly, his ache growing stronger as Fernando's cock pumped into him, his own neglected length being tended to by clumsy fingers which were losing their strength as Fernando ripped him apart with strong, irregular blows.
An enormous wail brought Fernando to an abrupt halt, Sergio moaning in frustration as Fernando froze above him.
"Shit," Fernando muttered, quickly pulling out, going soft within seconds as he darted to the window to look down the street. "Not again."
Sergio groaned, hating that ominous siren even more than usual, turning over, his cock still erect and throbbing and screaming for attention as Fernando hurriedly rummaged through a mess of shirts and jeans for his phone. Sergio continued stroking himself languidly, cursing the awful timing the world was determined to throw at him.
"Town Hall's been flooded," Fernando said briskly, striding over to his wardrobe to pull out his costume from the back corner. "The others are already there. Well, except for the new kid, obviously."
Sergio gave up on his own succours, his chest sinking as he abandoned the need for relief. "Tonight? But it was only, what, five days ago that -"
"I don't think villains care about giving us breathing time," Fernando said as he rolled his eyes, snapping the suit over his shoulders. "Well, come on!" He glared at Sergio who was still sprawled on the bed, his hand resting with shaking fingers by his groin. "Sergio, this is no time for you to have your mind in the gutter."
"Alright, alright," Sergio grumbled, hoisting himself up and heading for the door.
"Uh, Sergio?" Sergio turned around to see Fernando looking at him with his eyebrows raised. "You may want to get dressed."
"Ah, fuck the world," Sergio muttered. "You go on, I'm coming."
Fernando hesitated, but moved towards the door. "Don't take too long - we need you."
"Yeah, I know."
Sergio heard Fernando fling the door open and hurtle out of the apartment, flying hair disappearing under a mask, footsteps pounding away with steadily heavier breaths and blazing determination in his eyes. Turning to find his own costume, Sergio slipped and fell with a thud onto the carpet, and didn't hear the sounds that Fernando made slowly replaced by a new set of footsteps, new breaths, a new pair of eyes watching him.
* * * * *
Silva saw Cesc hurtling down the street, a solitary figure in a black uniform eliciting screams from the nearby public, barely barricaded by police tape and men of the law. From his position at the top of the building, he watched Cesc brought to a stop by a tall black police officer, with no way to get inside the town hall. Silva grunted in frustration - he remembered that guy well, and his stubborn reluctance to offer them any sort of help whatsoever.
In the blink of an eye, Silva was down by Cesc's side.
"Look, for all I know, you're just a man in stupid Lycra suit," the police officer was saying as Cesc panted in front of him.
"He's one of us," Silva interrupted, noticing with satisfaction the officer's surprise as he looked at him.
"Where did you come from?" he spat.
But within seconds, Silva had disappeared and taken Cesc with him, just able to hear the officer yell, "Frank! Where the fuck have you disappeared to now? I need you here doing your job!"
Cesc gave Silva a grateful smile once they arrived inside the building an instant later, balancing precariously on a ledge above the mass of water which had filled in the inside of the hall. Silva leant on a potplant for support as he scanned the room for some sight of the others, Cesc hovering in mid-air beside him.
"Why do they have potplants up here, anyway?" Cesc asked vaguely.
Silva shook his head slowly, hardly paying attention. "Fernando!" he yelled into the dark nothingness. "Fernando! Are you here?"
"Yeah, yeah, stop screaming." Fernando's voice sounded from somewhere to the right.
Silva turned his head, seeing nothing but more potplants. "How did you get in? Where's Sergio?"
"He's coming, he's coming," Fernando assured him. "Now, any idea how to -"
His voice was interrupted by a gurgling sound from below. Silva lowered his head, squinting in the darkness. The noises came again, and disappeared, teasing them in invisible waves.
Cesc grabbed Silva's arm. "There are people in there."
Silva turned, his eyes wide. "What?" He flicked his head back down, unable to see anything, but continually tormented by those noises. The harder he listened, the more they sounded like they were being made by human mouths, fighting for air under the cold water.
A sudden bang interrupted his horror - that telltale sign warning that things were about to get worse. With his mouth hanging open in fear, Silva watched the water level suddenly begin to rise.
"Okay, okay, stay calm," Cesc said, looking anything but. "Uh, we're going to have to get the doors open - we'll probably need Sergio for -" Cesc stopped when Silva abandoned the ledge and dived.
Darkness and the blur of water clouding his vision, Silva couldn't see how many people were holding their breath underneath, how many bodies were slowly losing life and succumbing to the water which enveloped them. But as he swam between them, he felt their thrashing legs, and arms reaching out in vain hope of rescue.
Unable to find the main doors by swimming through the mass of people, he transported himself there within a heartbeat and immediately tried forcing them open. Unsurprisingly, they didn't budge, held firmly shut by the sheer pressure of the water. In the wet, suffocating darkness, he vaguely registered hands pulling at him. Turning his head, he tried to signal to the desperate faces before him that grabbing his limbs was probably not the most effective way to ensure that they'd be rescued, but the seeming opacity of the water suggested that they couldn't see his lips moving any more than he could see theirs.
He left their hands grappling at water-filled space as he hurriedly arrived back atop the ledge, noticing with horror that the water had risen at least three metres in the few seconds he'd been within it.
"Fuck," he muttered, his eyes darting around the hall in search of his peers as droplets of water fell off his body and into the sea below him. "Where is Sergio? He's the only person who'll be able to open those doors."
"Sergio's been - held up," a voice whispered hotly into his ear, making his body jerk in surprise, about to fall off the ledge with only Cesc's quick hands keeping him up and quickly flying him to the other end of the room.
He turned to see Raúl seated comfortably on the ledge, a smirk lining his face as he tilted his head to gaze appraisingly at Silva.
"Oh, you bastard," Silva hissed, grabbing Cesc by the fabric on his shoulder and disappearing.
* * * * *
It had been a hand snaking around his body from behind, the deftest of touches against his hot skin, silky temptation on lustful, sweaty nakedness. That was all it took for Sergio to freeze, crouched over a pile of clothes, and feel his mind rid itself of panic and distress and flustered need, and instead fill with a light bliss and a hungry want.
"It's Fernando," a tender voice had whispered in his ear, and Sergio melted. The hand on his stomach had moved down. Sergio's eyes had fluttered closed as he vaguely realised that the skin on the man behind him was just as bare as his own, just as hard.
Sergio had turned around. He knew that it wasn't Fernando - not his Fernando, anyway - yet the voices in his head were telling him, through clouded judgement and contented confusion, that this was someone to please, to trust, to love.
As he was pushed down onto the bed, the sheets still warm from his own body heat of seconds ago, he realised that this man was exactly what he needed. A hand curling around his cock, the delicious feeling of satiated desire - it sent his head into a whirl of pleasured oblivion as the man sank down on top of him, lips of sin painting wet trails along his jawline, his neck, his chest, his stomach . . .
He was taken in whole, a hand flying down to the head which was enveloping his cock to force it down, harder, faster. All thoughts of his Fernando, his duty, his job, melted into the pool of sex which was claiming him. The chaotic screams from outside were drowned out by his own moans; sirens and the thrashing sound of running feet against pavement nothing more than a faint blur of sound providing the soundtrack to his private ecstasy.
He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't think. He could only feel himself growing closer and closer to climax, a victim of the mouth sucking him off so wholly. He didn't notice Gago's eyes flicking upwards to check the clock on the wall as he sheathed his cock with his mouth.
* * * * *
"Where the hell is our strongman?" Xabi yelled from the other end of the hall, glancing fleetingly down at the bubbles forming at the surface of the water, now several metres higher up, as Silva darted in and out, taking three or four people with him each time and leaving them outside for the rest of the world to deal with.
"I don't know!" Fernando screamed back, sounding more panicked than Xabi felt. "He was supposed to be here!"
"I fucking know that!" Xabi snapped. "How many people are still under there?"
"I don't know!" Fernando's voice shouted again. "Just go under already, there must already be loads of people uncons- aargh!"
His words ended in a hurtling scream as a ball of fire roared over the water, reaching the ledge where Cesc and Silva had been sitting with a crashing blast. Xabi's head snapped in the direction from which the fire had come, and he saw with a sinking heart the smiling face of Raúl looking back at him, blowing ash off his hand as though he was blowing a kiss.
"Hey, beautiful," Raúl hissed across the room. "Why so hot and bothered?"
Xabi stared for a moment before screaming, "Fer-" he began, before stopping himself, realising how utterly stupid it would be to say Fernando's name. "Do something!"
Raúl laughed, his eyes narrowed in mocking disbelief. "You do realise that invisibility isn't going to stop him from getting fried?" he asked silkily. "If I were you, I'd be less concerned about us, and more worried about your friends down there." He pointed down to the water, clouds of ash flying off his hand.
"Well, thank fuck you're not me," Xabi said through gritted teeth as he bent down to grab the gun strapped around his leg, "or these people wouldn't have a hope in hell."
A yelp suddenly sounded just as the water level lurched further upwards. Xabi spun around to look in Fernando's direction, almost losing balance, to see Guti struggling against invisible hands wrapped around his body.
Raúl sneered. "What are you going to do, kiddo?" he spat at Fernando, as Guti continued to thrash against the arms holding him back. "Plan to drown the waterbaby in water? Newsflash, babe: it won't work."
His smile stretched further as Guti's splutters were rapidly replaced by Fernando's, the older man having cast a wave of water over him with a flick of his wrist. Xabi cringed as he saw the grip around Guti's body loosen, the indents that Fernando's arms had left in Guti's clothes quickly growing fainter as control shifted from one to the other. Fernando was still choking on the water which had been forced down his throat as Guti slipped away from him. Xabi watched Guti avoid Fernando's failing grasp, heard the shuffling of feet on wet stone and felt his chest tighten as he saw the water hit by Fernando's falling body.
Before Xabi could take action, another ball of fire flew in his direction, all heat and burning anger, leaving a trail of hot flames against his shoulder, ripping away the fabric of his costume. As he hollered out in pain, he too fell into the cold depth of water.
* * * * *
Cesc tried to ignore the public's screams as Silva brought yet more civilians out, dripping and gasping for air, blue and cold. Battling the unhelpful police, Cesc blocked out the demands for explanations and flashing cameras of the press as he rounded on Silva, panting and soaking just as much as those he was trying to save.
"Has Xabi gone in yet?" he asked in a low voice, as Silva bent over to catch his breath. "I couldn't tell in the darkness - all I saw was fire, and I think I heard Fernando struggling or something - but then you brought me out again -"
"I think Xabi was thrown in," Silva panted. "The whole thing is practically full of water now, there's about a foot of air above the surface."
Cesc winced behind his mask as the wide eyes of Frank Lampard came in between his face and Silva's.
"Alright, mate?" Frank asked.
"No, I'm not fucking alright," Silva snapped back before disappearing again.
"Well, that's not very friendly," Frank complained to Cesc.
Cesc sighed. "It's hardly his job to be friendly. Can you move all these people back?" he asked, gesturing towards the mass of people who were crowded all along the town hall steps and pressed up against the doors, trying to force them open. "They'll all be crushed - we're probably going to need a lot of space here."
Frank turned to frown at the crowd. "Oy, John!" he yelled. John Terry appeared from behind the crowd, his face struck with blank helplessness. "Get these people to piss off!" Frank turned back to Cesc. "That all right, mate? Why do you need space, anyway?"
At that moment, a huge crash sounded. Cesc and Frank turned to see the town hall doors bulge slightly outwards, the people in front of it letting out screams of terror and backing away quickly.
"What the hell is happening in there?" one of the civilians yelled in Cesc's direction, John trying desperately to direct her away from the steps, his feeble attempts at talking her into walking away proving to be unsuccessful.
Cesc ignored her. "That," he said nervously, nodding towards the doors, which were becoming increasingly strained as something heavy pushed at it hard from the inside, "is why we need space. Once we get them open, there's going to be a hell of a lot of water and people flying out."
Frank nodded, frowning slightly. "What is it that's doing all the pushing? Is it the shapeshifter?"
"I hope so," Cesc muttered. "I really hope -"
With that, the doors crashed open, sending the crowd outside flying backwards as all the water that had been trapped inside flooded out, people laced within the waves, screaming with terror and relief all at once. The brickwork around the entrance collapsed onto itself in a mess of rubble and terrifying noise. Water splashed against Cesc's legs as people fell over each other, some of them unconscious, pools of water spilling out from within purple lips.
Drogba, who had been preoccupied with interrogating the rescued as to what was happening, now came storming back towards Cesc, dripping wet and wading through the mass of barely moving bodies.
"What the hell is wrong with you people?" he roared over the screams behind him. "You do realise that you have completely destroyed a part of this town's heritage -" He turned to point to the door, but shouted out when he saw a massive shark thrashing on the soaking floor of the hall.
"Dammit," Cesc muttered, taking off into the crowd to look for Silva.
Amongst clamouring hands, he found Silva worn out and coughing up water, getting trampled by the feet thundering past as the shark continued its tremors behind him.
"I can't find Fernando," Silva breathed, spluttering a little. "And by the looks of it, Xabi's too weak to change back . . ."
"Holy shit," Cesc moaned, running a hand through his hair in panic. "Where did Raúl and Guti go?"
Silva shrugged weakly. "They might have taken Fernando, I don't know." He pushed himself up against a pillar near the stairs and allowed his dripping head to sink into his knees, breathing still coming to him in difficult waves, interrupted by coughs and choking.
Cesc patted him awkwardly on the shoulder before running into the hall. The enormous body of Xabi's shark was calming down - whether it was the lack of water for breathing which was causing his fatigue, or sheer exhaustion, Cesc didn't know. Somewhat distracted by the continuing screams from the public, met by the roars of Drogba and his men as they tried to calm the crowd down, Cesc struggled to remember how to get Xabi back to normal.
"The bottle," Silva called weakly. "In your pocket!"
Shaking his head to force himself to think more clearly, Cesc pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and threw the contents in the open mouth of the shark. Moments later, the body was replaced by Xabi's, trembling and gasping, a huge burn on his shoulder, water pouring out from under his mask.
"Are you alright?" Cesc asked as he bent down over his friend, observing with concern his pale skin and the bloody mess peering out from under torn black material.
Xabi opened his eyes a fraction under his mask, revealing them to be bloodshot and completely exhausted. "It was nearly impossible," he gasped, his chest shuddering as he scrambled for air. "I'm not cut out to push open doors like that, the water pressure was too strong. We needed Sergio."
Cesc exhaled, not knowing quite what to do. "Could you see Fernando while you were at it?"
Xabi's eyes flew shut again. "Cesc, I was more concerned with getting everyone the fuck out," he said, somehow managing to sound exasperated through his broken breaths. "I don't know where he is - he was still invisible when he fell in."
Cesc bit his lip. "Fernando?" he said tentatively to the open air within the hall, looking around at the wet floorboards and seats for any sign of his comrade. Getting no response, he turned to look at Silva, at a complete loss. "What do I do?" he asked, panic quickly taking him over.
Silva shook his head, still struggling with his breathing as Xabi continued to splutter. "Bring him over here. I'll get us back to headquarters."
Dragging Xabi unceremoniously towards the doors, his arms looped under Xabi's armpits, Cesc brought him to Silva's side. "You take him," he panted. "I'll stay and try to find Fernando."
Silva merely tilted his head in concession before taking Xabi's hand, the two of them disappearing in an instant. Cesc closed his eyes in frustration as the familiar screams of terror registered with him again, the civilians outside watching the heroes' disappearance in shock. Hoisting himself up, he waded through the inquisitive eyes, barely registering those around him who were trying to resuscitate the people who had yet to regain consciousness after being trapped inside the hall.
He managed to find Drogba, drawn back to the officer by his repeated shouts of "Where the hell is Frank, the moron?!"
"We have a missing person," Cesc murmured, trying to avoid the nosy ears of nearby people. "The invisible man - we can't find him."
Drogba turned around with a glare. "Well, you should have thought of that before you made him invisible, shouldn't you? Frank!" he continued screaming. "You'd better be amongst these people somewhere, or you're out of a job, buddy!"
Cesc groaned in frustration and continued trudging through the crowd, heading back to the hall. On his way, an arm flew out in front of him.
"Do you need help?" Frank asked, his worried frown somehow marred by an inexplicable excitement as his eyes darted towards his superior officer, who was still hollering his name whilst avoiding the civilians clamouring for his attention. "To find the invisible guy?"
Cesc looked at him for a moment. "Shouldn't you be helping these people?" he asked, gesturing towards the unconscious and those trying to bring them back.
"Nah, ambulances are coming for that, aren't they?" Frank twittered. "Besides, there's only one of you - you could use another pair of hands, right?"
Cesc continued staring, before shrugging and continuing ahead. "If you insist. Be careful as you walk - he could be lying here anywhere," he said, anxiously envisioning Fernando's limp body being trampled by careless feet. "Check all the seats, on them and under them. Every corner. Can you do that?"
"Yes, sir," Frank beamed back.
* * * * *
Steven frowned. "They have paramedics, though," he protested. "Surely it's more useful for me to stay here, just in case anything happens to Cesc or Fernando."
Xabi rolled his eyes. "Stop being so damn lazy, Steven," he snapped. "You're forgetting what your job is - to help civilians, not us."
"Oh, so would you rather still have that massive fucking burn on your shoulder?" Steven retorted, his voice growing louder. "Maybe I shouldn't have bothered with you at all, left your lungs all full of water, left you coughing, and -"
"Shut up, Stevie," Silva said wearily. "Can you just go? You'll be a thousand times more useful than any of those stupid doctors."
Steven gritted his teeth as he glared at Silva. "Fine," he muttered. "But by the time I get there, they'll probably all be in hospital, anyway."
As Steven made to leave, Xabi shot him a dirty look. "If you'd just left with me, like I'd told you to, there'd be no need for the hospital at all."
"Oh, play a new record," Steven grumbled as he slammed the door behind him.
Silva sighed, the echoes of the banging door bouncing off the sterile surfaces of the room, his head still swimming with the chaotic and horrific events of an hour earlier. "I don't understand why you two bicker so much. You should consider yourselves lucky - at least you don't have to wear masks around each other."
"I think I'd prefer masks, to be honest," Xabi said bitterly. "Then maybe I wouldn't feel so guilty about wanting to punch his face in."
Silva shook his head to himself as he got up, his bones cracking as he stretched. "You don't realise how rare it is, what you two have," he said simply. "You'll only realise when it's gone."
"What do you mean, 'when' it's gone?" Xabi asked, frowning. "Don't you mean 'if'?"
Silva shrugged. "The way you're going, it's definitely 'when'."
* * * * *
"Given the reports of over one hundred eyewitnesses, it now appears impossible to deny that it is indeed the Force who are behind the horrific events of tonight," Daniel reported rapidly, his face flushed with a deep excitement as he spoke. "With no evidence that anybody else was present, and comprehensive photographic and video footage of the masked men at the scene of the incident, the question on everyone's lips is: how long will it be before the police recognise the Force as a very real, and very dangerous, threat to society? This is Daniel Agger, reporting for Verda TV News outside Despertia Town Hall."
"Fucking bullshit," Frank spat. "There's no way those guys had anything to with it! They were trying to save them!"
Drogba shook his head, taking his feet down from the desk where he'd been resting them as he sat up straighter in his chair. "Frank," he said patronisingly, "how the hell did all those people get stuck in there in the first place, if it wasn't the Force who did it?"
Frank hesitated. "Well - I don't know. But bloody hell, I was with one of them, looking for the invisble kid! And I just - I can't believe that they'd create all that havoc -"
"Just to go and make it right," John finished his sentence, taking a sip of coffee. "It doesn't make any sense," he shrugged. "Bloody waste of time, if you ask me."
"Well then, it's a good thing nobody is asking you," Drogba snapped. "We should have arrested them while they were there," he said ruefully. "The number of times that shithead walked past me . . ."
Frank frowned, deep in thought as he reached over for John's coffee and downed some quickly. "You didn't think they were behind it either, boss. On Monday, when that old school was on fire - you told the police that you thought it was terrorists."
Drogba bit his lip. "I didn't think it," he agreed quietly. "Fuck it, I don't. But we need to look like we're doing something, and tonight we just made damn fools of ourselves. And you," he added sharply, nodding at John, "didn't help matters at all."
John raised his eyebrows. "What was I meant to do, man? People were going mental, you can't control that."
"Well, regardless, the next time something like this happens," Drogba said loudly, addressing the entire room, the other officers turning around at his raised voice, "we'll do the rescuing. We'll get inside the bloody building and deal with the fire or flood or whatever the hell's thrown at us. And we're going to get those 'heroes' straight - figure out whether they're with us or against us."
"Why so dramatic, boss?" John drawled. "The people got out alright, the Force pissed off. What's the bother?"
Drogba stared him down. "When you've lived through what I've lived through, you won't be asking me that kind of shit."
* * * * *
"I think we should just destroy him here," Guti said, ignoring the thumping noises behind him as Fernando struggled to release himself of the thick ropes around his naked body, his clothes and mask on the floor next to him. The weapons which had been strapped to his legs - knives, and slender pistols - were among the effects.
"No," Raúl said shortly.
Guti sighed. "Why?"
"Destroying the son of a bitch doesn't interest me," Raúl explained as he eyed Fernando with interest. "Destroying him in the way you mean, anyway."
"Aren't we just overcomplicating things?" Guti complained, all pouting lips and frowning eyes and hands on hips. "If we just get rid of them, one by one, we -"
"Baby," Raúl said, stepping closer to Guti to rest a hand gently on his cheek, instantly silencing him mid-sentence, "you know that's not why we're trying to break down these idiots." Tossing a glance towards Fernando, who had momentarily frozen but now began his thrashing again, Raúl exhaled, long and slow. "You know who screwed us over. And it wasn't this piece of shit and his friends," he said, throwing a pitying look at the gagged and bound figure who continued to hum and shake in futile protest.
Guti's eyes closed briefly under the warm touch of Raúl's hand, his words washing over him, so full of that familiar knowledge and reassurance. As much as he trusted his lover, however, he couldn't shake the hesitation building up inside him.
Sensing Guti's reluctance, Raúl pressed a firm kiss to his lips. "Stop stressing," he said softly as he pulled back. "I know what I'm doing. I'm going to make sure this goddamn city gets what it -"
His words were interrupted by a knock at the door. Still holding Raúl, Guti turned his head, before flicking it back to raise his eyebrows expectantly.
"That'll be Gago," Raúl said assuredly. "Well, go on," he added, pulling out of Guti's reach.
Guti sighed once more as he turned to head down the hall and to the door. Indeed, it was Gago, who gave Guti a fleeting glance before pushing past him and towards Raúl.
"Good evening to you, too," Guti said wearily.
He shuffled back to the living room to see Raúl and Gago both gazing at Fernando appraisingly, whose face, which had for most of the time borne an unmistakeable mask of loathing, was now light and peaceful as he looked back up at Gago.
"I thought he should probably get working right away," Raúl explained to Guti in a whisper, who came up behind him and slung an arm around his waist, Raúl holding his hand as it rested just over his navel. "To make sure he's in prime condition for what will probably be the most memorable night he's ever had - if only he could remember it."
Guti peered over Raúl's shoulder at Gago. "Have you done the job with Sergio?"
"Oh, yeah," Gago replied casually, not taking his eyes off Fernando, who was staring up at him with awe, his mouth no longer taped over. "Just wait until tomorrow. The shit will well and truly hit the fan, and blondey here's going to get splattered."
Wincing slightly at the quip towards Fernando's hair, Guti rested his chin on Raúl's shoulder as he watched the scene unfold.
Carefully unwinding the rope from around Fernando's wrist, Gago whispered to him.
"You love Sergio." His words were like chocolate, his voice coating every syllable in warmth such that Guti couldn't shake the feeling that even he was melting a little.
"Mmm," Fernando hummed agreeably as he smiled lazily up at Gago, not making the slightest attempt to move now that his hands and legs were free of their restrictions.
Gago smiled back. "You want to see him right now - you want to make sure he's okay, am I right?"
"Yes," Fernando breathed. "You're rather disconcertingly right."
Guti snorted, and Raúl squeezed his hand pointedly, his eyes fixated on Gago and Fernando.
"Well, let's head over and have a happy reunion, hey? I hope you don't mind if I join in," Gago smiled.
Raúl chuckled. "Are you planning to do what it sounds like you're planning to do?"
Gago turned around and grinned. "Will nudity be censored on the early morning news?"
Guti saw the corners of Raúl's eyes disappear into familiar crinkles as he smiled back. "I'm afraid so."
"Ah, well then," Gago shrugged, "I may just have to turn to Plan B. It'll be just as much fun, though."
Part III
Chapter: 2 / 6
Characters: Fernando Torres / Sergio Ramos, Xabi Alonso / Steven Gerrard, David Silva / David Villa, Frank Lampard / John Terry, Raúl / Guti, Cesc Fàbregas, Fernando Gago, Iker Casillas, Xavi Hernández, Rubén de la Red, Pepe Reina, Daniel Agger, Sami Hyypiä, Gonzalo Higuaín, Didier Drogba, Santi Cazorla, Álvaro Arbeloa, Sergio "Kun" Agüero, Rafael Benítez, José Mourinho. Not all characters appear in every part and in equal measure.
Rating: R
Warnings: AU. Infrequent language, violence and sex.
Disclaimer: It's about superheroes - how real could it possibly be?
Summary: The Force is a group of superheroes determined to save the city of Despertia from the unfathomable and relentless attacks of villains Raúl and Guti. But sometimes it is the heroes who need to be saved from their own fatal flaws.
Notes: Based on a wonderful prompt by nahco3 at footie_exchange. Apologies to those who have already seen this.
Feedback > life. If you feel the need to give constructive criticism, please do.
Previous parts: Part I
They weren't even close to the final throes, Fernando thrusting harder into Sergio, smiling faintly as he saw his lover's fingers grip the sheets, the pillows, anything, for a little support. Sergio whimpered a little, loving it but wanting it to reach its end so badly, his ache growing stronger as Fernando's cock pumped into him, his own neglected length being tended to by clumsy fingers which were losing their strength as Fernando ripped him apart with strong, irregular blows.
An enormous wail brought Fernando to an abrupt halt, Sergio moaning in frustration as Fernando froze above him.
"Shit," Fernando muttered, quickly pulling out, going soft within seconds as he darted to the window to look down the street. "Not again."
Sergio groaned, hating that ominous siren even more than usual, turning over, his cock still erect and throbbing and screaming for attention as Fernando hurriedly rummaged through a mess of shirts and jeans for his phone. Sergio continued stroking himself languidly, cursing the awful timing the world was determined to throw at him.
"Town Hall's been flooded," Fernando said briskly, striding over to his wardrobe to pull out his costume from the back corner. "The others are already there. Well, except for the new kid, obviously."
Sergio gave up on his own succours, his chest sinking as he abandoned the need for relief. "Tonight? But it was only, what, five days ago that -"
"I don't think villains care about giving us breathing time," Fernando said as he rolled his eyes, snapping the suit over his shoulders. "Well, come on!" He glared at Sergio who was still sprawled on the bed, his hand resting with shaking fingers by his groin. "Sergio, this is no time for you to have your mind in the gutter."
"Alright, alright," Sergio grumbled, hoisting himself up and heading for the door.
"Uh, Sergio?" Sergio turned around to see Fernando looking at him with his eyebrows raised. "You may want to get dressed."
"Ah, fuck the world," Sergio muttered. "You go on, I'm coming."
Fernando hesitated, but moved towards the door. "Don't take too long - we need you."
"Yeah, I know."
Sergio heard Fernando fling the door open and hurtle out of the apartment, flying hair disappearing under a mask, footsteps pounding away with steadily heavier breaths and blazing determination in his eyes. Turning to find his own costume, Sergio slipped and fell with a thud onto the carpet, and didn't hear the sounds that Fernando made slowly replaced by a new set of footsteps, new breaths, a new pair of eyes watching him.
* * * * *
Silva saw Cesc hurtling down the street, a solitary figure in a black uniform eliciting screams from the nearby public, barely barricaded by police tape and men of the law. From his position at the top of the building, he watched Cesc brought to a stop by a tall black police officer, with no way to get inside the town hall. Silva grunted in frustration - he remembered that guy well, and his stubborn reluctance to offer them any sort of help whatsoever.
In the blink of an eye, Silva was down by Cesc's side.
"Look, for all I know, you're just a man in stupid Lycra suit," the police officer was saying as Cesc panted in front of him.
"He's one of us," Silva interrupted, noticing with satisfaction the officer's surprise as he looked at him.
"Where did you come from?" he spat.
But within seconds, Silva had disappeared and taken Cesc with him, just able to hear the officer yell, "Frank! Where the fuck have you disappeared to now? I need you here doing your job!"
Cesc gave Silva a grateful smile once they arrived inside the building an instant later, balancing precariously on a ledge above the mass of water which had filled in the inside of the hall. Silva leant on a potplant for support as he scanned the room for some sight of the others, Cesc hovering in mid-air beside him.
"Why do they have potplants up here, anyway?" Cesc asked vaguely.
Silva shook his head slowly, hardly paying attention. "Fernando!" he yelled into the dark nothingness. "Fernando! Are you here?"
"Yeah, yeah, stop screaming." Fernando's voice sounded from somewhere to the right.
Silva turned his head, seeing nothing but more potplants. "How did you get in? Where's Sergio?"
"He's coming, he's coming," Fernando assured him. "Now, any idea how to -"
His voice was interrupted by a gurgling sound from below. Silva lowered his head, squinting in the darkness. The noises came again, and disappeared, teasing them in invisible waves.
Cesc grabbed Silva's arm. "There are people in there."
Silva turned, his eyes wide. "What?" He flicked his head back down, unable to see anything, but continually tormented by those noises. The harder he listened, the more they sounded like they were being made by human mouths, fighting for air under the cold water.
A sudden bang interrupted his horror - that telltale sign warning that things were about to get worse. With his mouth hanging open in fear, Silva watched the water level suddenly begin to rise.
"Okay, okay, stay calm," Cesc said, looking anything but. "Uh, we're going to have to get the doors open - we'll probably need Sergio for -" Cesc stopped when Silva abandoned the ledge and dived.
Darkness and the blur of water clouding his vision, Silva couldn't see how many people were holding their breath underneath, how many bodies were slowly losing life and succumbing to the water which enveloped them. But as he swam between them, he felt their thrashing legs, and arms reaching out in vain hope of rescue.
Unable to find the main doors by swimming through the mass of people, he transported himself there within a heartbeat and immediately tried forcing them open. Unsurprisingly, they didn't budge, held firmly shut by the sheer pressure of the water. In the wet, suffocating darkness, he vaguely registered hands pulling at him. Turning his head, he tried to signal to the desperate faces before him that grabbing his limbs was probably not the most effective way to ensure that they'd be rescued, but the seeming opacity of the water suggested that they couldn't see his lips moving any more than he could see theirs.
He left their hands grappling at water-filled space as he hurriedly arrived back atop the ledge, noticing with horror that the water had risen at least three metres in the few seconds he'd been within it.
"Fuck," he muttered, his eyes darting around the hall in search of his peers as droplets of water fell off his body and into the sea below him. "Where is Sergio? He's the only person who'll be able to open those doors."
"Sergio's been - held up," a voice whispered hotly into his ear, making his body jerk in surprise, about to fall off the ledge with only Cesc's quick hands keeping him up and quickly flying him to the other end of the room.
He turned to see Raúl seated comfortably on the ledge, a smirk lining his face as he tilted his head to gaze appraisingly at Silva.
"Oh, you bastard," Silva hissed, grabbing Cesc by the fabric on his shoulder and disappearing.
* * * * *
It had been a hand snaking around his body from behind, the deftest of touches against his hot skin, silky temptation on lustful, sweaty nakedness. That was all it took for Sergio to freeze, crouched over a pile of clothes, and feel his mind rid itself of panic and distress and flustered need, and instead fill with a light bliss and a hungry want.
"It's Fernando," a tender voice had whispered in his ear, and Sergio melted. The hand on his stomach had moved down. Sergio's eyes had fluttered closed as he vaguely realised that the skin on the man behind him was just as bare as his own, just as hard.
Sergio had turned around. He knew that it wasn't Fernando - not his Fernando, anyway - yet the voices in his head were telling him, through clouded judgement and contented confusion, that this was someone to please, to trust, to love.
As he was pushed down onto the bed, the sheets still warm from his own body heat of seconds ago, he realised that this man was exactly what he needed. A hand curling around his cock, the delicious feeling of satiated desire - it sent his head into a whirl of pleasured oblivion as the man sank down on top of him, lips of sin painting wet trails along his jawline, his neck, his chest, his stomach . . .
He was taken in whole, a hand flying down to the head which was enveloping his cock to force it down, harder, faster. All thoughts of his Fernando, his duty, his job, melted into the pool of sex which was claiming him. The chaotic screams from outside were drowned out by his own moans; sirens and the thrashing sound of running feet against pavement nothing more than a faint blur of sound providing the soundtrack to his private ecstasy.
He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't think. He could only feel himself growing closer and closer to climax, a victim of the mouth sucking him off so wholly. He didn't notice Gago's eyes flicking upwards to check the clock on the wall as he sheathed his cock with his mouth.
* * * * *
"Where the hell is our strongman?" Xabi yelled from the other end of the hall, glancing fleetingly down at the bubbles forming at the surface of the water, now several metres higher up, as Silva darted in and out, taking three or four people with him each time and leaving them outside for the rest of the world to deal with.
"I don't know!" Fernando screamed back, sounding more panicked than Xabi felt. "He was supposed to be here!"
"I fucking know that!" Xabi snapped. "How many people are still under there?"
"I don't know!" Fernando's voice shouted again. "Just go under already, there must already be loads of people uncons- aargh!"
His words ended in a hurtling scream as a ball of fire roared over the water, reaching the ledge where Cesc and Silva had been sitting with a crashing blast. Xabi's head snapped in the direction from which the fire had come, and he saw with a sinking heart the smiling face of Raúl looking back at him, blowing ash off his hand as though he was blowing a kiss.
"Hey, beautiful," Raúl hissed across the room. "Why so hot and bothered?"
Xabi stared for a moment before screaming, "Fer-" he began, before stopping himself, realising how utterly stupid it would be to say Fernando's name. "Do something!"
Raúl laughed, his eyes narrowed in mocking disbelief. "You do realise that invisibility isn't going to stop him from getting fried?" he asked silkily. "If I were you, I'd be less concerned about us, and more worried about your friends down there." He pointed down to the water, clouds of ash flying off his hand.
"Well, thank fuck you're not me," Xabi said through gritted teeth as he bent down to grab the gun strapped around his leg, "or these people wouldn't have a hope in hell."
A yelp suddenly sounded just as the water level lurched further upwards. Xabi spun around to look in Fernando's direction, almost losing balance, to see Guti struggling against invisible hands wrapped around his body.
Raúl sneered. "What are you going to do, kiddo?" he spat at Fernando, as Guti continued to thrash against the arms holding him back. "Plan to drown the waterbaby in water? Newsflash, babe: it won't work."
His smile stretched further as Guti's splutters were rapidly replaced by Fernando's, the older man having cast a wave of water over him with a flick of his wrist. Xabi cringed as he saw the grip around Guti's body loosen, the indents that Fernando's arms had left in Guti's clothes quickly growing fainter as control shifted from one to the other. Fernando was still choking on the water which had been forced down his throat as Guti slipped away from him. Xabi watched Guti avoid Fernando's failing grasp, heard the shuffling of feet on wet stone and felt his chest tighten as he saw the water hit by Fernando's falling body.
Before Xabi could take action, another ball of fire flew in his direction, all heat and burning anger, leaving a trail of hot flames against his shoulder, ripping away the fabric of his costume. As he hollered out in pain, he too fell into the cold depth of water.
* * * * *
Cesc tried to ignore the public's screams as Silva brought yet more civilians out, dripping and gasping for air, blue and cold. Battling the unhelpful police, Cesc blocked out the demands for explanations and flashing cameras of the press as he rounded on Silva, panting and soaking just as much as those he was trying to save.
"Has Xabi gone in yet?" he asked in a low voice, as Silva bent over to catch his breath. "I couldn't tell in the darkness - all I saw was fire, and I think I heard Fernando struggling or something - but then you brought me out again -"
"I think Xabi was thrown in," Silva panted. "The whole thing is practically full of water now, there's about a foot of air above the surface."
Cesc winced behind his mask as the wide eyes of Frank Lampard came in between his face and Silva's.
"Alright, mate?" Frank asked.
"No, I'm not fucking alright," Silva snapped back before disappearing again.
"Well, that's not very friendly," Frank complained to Cesc.
Cesc sighed. "It's hardly his job to be friendly. Can you move all these people back?" he asked, gesturing towards the mass of people who were crowded all along the town hall steps and pressed up against the doors, trying to force them open. "They'll all be crushed - we're probably going to need a lot of space here."
Frank turned to frown at the crowd. "Oy, John!" he yelled. John Terry appeared from behind the crowd, his face struck with blank helplessness. "Get these people to piss off!" Frank turned back to Cesc. "That all right, mate? Why do you need space, anyway?"
At that moment, a huge crash sounded. Cesc and Frank turned to see the town hall doors bulge slightly outwards, the people in front of it letting out screams of terror and backing away quickly.
"What the hell is happening in there?" one of the civilians yelled in Cesc's direction, John trying desperately to direct her away from the steps, his feeble attempts at talking her into walking away proving to be unsuccessful.
Cesc ignored her. "That," he said nervously, nodding towards the doors, which were becoming increasingly strained as something heavy pushed at it hard from the inside, "is why we need space. Once we get them open, there's going to be a hell of a lot of water and people flying out."
Frank nodded, frowning slightly. "What is it that's doing all the pushing? Is it the shapeshifter?"
"I hope so," Cesc muttered. "I really hope -"
With that, the doors crashed open, sending the crowd outside flying backwards as all the water that had been trapped inside flooded out, people laced within the waves, screaming with terror and relief all at once. The brickwork around the entrance collapsed onto itself in a mess of rubble and terrifying noise. Water splashed against Cesc's legs as people fell over each other, some of them unconscious, pools of water spilling out from within purple lips.
Drogba, who had been preoccupied with interrogating the rescued as to what was happening, now came storming back towards Cesc, dripping wet and wading through the mass of barely moving bodies.
"What the hell is wrong with you people?" he roared over the screams behind him. "You do realise that you have completely destroyed a part of this town's heritage -" He turned to point to the door, but shouted out when he saw a massive shark thrashing on the soaking floor of the hall.
"Dammit," Cesc muttered, taking off into the crowd to look for Silva.
Amongst clamouring hands, he found Silva worn out and coughing up water, getting trampled by the feet thundering past as the shark continued its tremors behind him.
"I can't find Fernando," Silva breathed, spluttering a little. "And by the looks of it, Xabi's too weak to change back . . ."
"Holy shit," Cesc moaned, running a hand through his hair in panic. "Where did Raúl and Guti go?"
Silva shrugged weakly. "They might have taken Fernando, I don't know." He pushed himself up against a pillar near the stairs and allowed his dripping head to sink into his knees, breathing still coming to him in difficult waves, interrupted by coughs and choking.
Cesc patted him awkwardly on the shoulder before running into the hall. The enormous body of Xabi's shark was calming down - whether it was the lack of water for breathing which was causing his fatigue, or sheer exhaustion, Cesc didn't know. Somewhat distracted by the continuing screams from the public, met by the roars of Drogba and his men as they tried to calm the crowd down, Cesc struggled to remember how to get Xabi back to normal.
"The bottle," Silva called weakly. "In your pocket!"
Shaking his head to force himself to think more clearly, Cesc pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and threw the contents in the open mouth of the shark. Moments later, the body was replaced by Xabi's, trembling and gasping, a huge burn on his shoulder, water pouring out from under his mask.
"Are you alright?" Cesc asked as he bent down over his friend, observing with concern his pale skin and the bloody mess peering out from under torn black material.
Xabi opened his eyes a fraction under his mask, revealing them to be bloodshot and completely exhausted. "It was nearly impossible," he gasped, his chest shuddering as he scrambled for air. "I'm not cut out to push open doors like that, the water pressure was too strong. We needed Sergio."
Cesc exhaled, not knowing quite what to do. "Could you see Fernando while you were at it?"
Xabi's eyes flew shut again. "Cesc, I was more concerned with getting everyone the fuck out," he said, somehow managing to sound exasperated through his broken breaths. "I don't know where he is - he was still invisible when he fell in."
Cesc bit his lip. "Fernando?" he said tentatively to the open air within the hall, looking around at the wet floorboards and seats for any sign of his comrade. Getting no response, he turned to look at Silva, at a complete loss. "What do I do?" he asked, panic quickly taking him over.
Silva shook his head, still struggling with his breathing as Xabi continued to splutter. "Bring him over here. I'll get us back to headquarters."
Dragging Xabi unceremoniously towards the doors, his arms looped under Xabi's armpits, Cesc brought him to Silva's side. "You take him," he panted. "I'll stay and try to find Fernando."
Silva merely tilted his head in concession before taking Xabi's hand, the two of them disappearing in an instant. Cesc closed his eyes in frustration as the familiar screams of terror registered with him again, the civilians outside watching the heroes' disappearance in shock. Hoisting himself up, he waded through the inquisitive eyes, barely registering those around him who were trying to resuscitate the people who had yet to regain consciousness after being trapped inside the hall.
He managed to find Drogba, drawn back to the officer by his repeated shouts of "Where the hell is Frank, the moron?!"
"We have a missing person," Cesc murmured, trying to avoid the nosy ears of nearby people. "The invisible man - we can't find him."
Drogba turned around with a glare. "Well, you should have thought of that before you made him invisible, shouldn't you? Frank!" he continued screaming. "You'd better be amongst these people somewhere, or you're out of a job, buddy!"
Cesc groaned in frustration and continued trudging through the crowd, heading back to the hall. On his way, an arm flew out in front of him.
"Do you need help?" Frank asked, his worried frown somehow marred by an inexplicable excitement as his eyes darted towards his superior officer, who was still hollering his name whilst avoiding the civilians clamouring for his attention. "To find the invisible guy?"
Cesc looked at him for a moment. "Shouldn't you be helping these people?" he asked, gesturing towards the unconscious and those trying to bring them back.
"Nah, ambulances are coming for that, aren't they?" Frank twittered. "Besides, there's only one of you - you could use another pair of hands, right?"
Cesc continued staring, before shrugging and continuing ahead. "If you insist. Be careful as you walk - he could be lying here anywhere," he said, anxiously envisioning Fernando's limp body being trampled by careless feet. "Check all the seats, on them and under them. Every corner. Can you do that?"
"Yes, sir," Frank beamed back.
* * * * *
Steven frowned. "They have paramedics, though," he protested. "Surely it's more useful for me to stay here, just in case anything happens to Cesc or Fernando."
Xabi rolled his eyes. "Stop being so damn lazy, Steven," he snapped. "You're forgetting what your job is - to help civilians, not us."
"Oh, so would you rather still have that massive fucking burn on your shoulder?" Steven retorted, his voice growing louder. "Maybe I shouldn't have bothered with you at all, left your lungs all full of water, left you coughing, and -"
"Shut up, Stevie," Silva said wearily. "Can you just go? You'll be a thousand times more useful than any of those stupid doctors."
Steven gritted his teeth as he glared at Silva. "Fine," he muttered. "But by the time I get there, they'll probably all be in hospital, anyway."
As Steven made to leave, Xabi shot him a dirty look. "If you'd just left with me, like I'd told you to, there'd be no need for the hospital at all."
"Oh, play a new record," Steven grumbled as he slammed the door behind him.
Silva sighed, the echoes of the banging door bouncing off the sterile surfaces of the room, his head still swimming with the chaotic and horrific events of an hour earlier. "I don't understand why you two bicker so much. You should consider yourselves lucky - at least you don't have to wear masks around each other."
"I think I'd prefer masks, to be honest," Xabi said bitterly. "Then maybe I wouldn't feel so guilty about wanting to punch his face in."
Silva shook his head to himself as he got up, his bones cracking as he stretched. "You don't realise how rare it is, what you two have," he said simply. "You'll only realise when it's gone."
"What do you mean, 'when' it's gone?" Xabi asked, frowning. "Don't you mean 'if'?"
Silva shrugged. "The way you're going, it's definitely 'when'."
* * * * *
"Given the reports of over one hundred eyewitnesses, it now appears impossible to deny that it is indeed the Force who are behind the horrific events of tonight," Daniel reported rapidly, his face flushed with a deep excitement as he spoke. "With no evidence that anybody else was present, and comprehensive photographic and video footage of the masked men at the scene of the incident, the question on everyone's lips is: how long will it be before the police recognise the Force as a very real, and very dangerous, threat to society? This is Daniel Agger, reporting for Verda TV News outside Despertia Town Hall."
"Fucking bullshit," Frank spat. "There's no way those guys had anything to with it! They were trying to save them!"
Drogba shook his head, taking his feet down from the desk where he'd been resting them as he sat up straighter in his chair. "Frank," he said patronisingly, "how the hell did all those people get stuck in there in the first place, if it wasn't the Force who did it?"
Frank hesitated. "Well - I don't know. But bloody hell, I was with one of them, looking for the invisble kid! And I just - I can't believe that they'd create all that havoc -"
"Just to go and make it right," John finished his sentence, taking a sip of coffee. "It doesn't make any sense," he shrugged. "Bloody waste of time, if you ask me."
"Well then, it's a good thing nobody is asking you," Drogba snapped. "We should have arrested them while they were there," he said ruefully. "The number of times that shithead walked past me . . ."
Frank frowned, deep in thought as he reached over for John's coffee and downed some quickly. "You didn't think they were behind it either, boss. On Monday, when that old school was on fire - you told the police that you thought it was terrorists."
Drogba bit his lip. "I didn't think it," he agreed quietly. "Fuck it, I don't. But we need to look like we're doing something, and tonight we just made damn fools of ourselves. And you," he added sharply, nodding at John, "didn't help matters at all."
John raised his eyebrows. "What was I meant to do, man? People were going mental, you can't control that."
"Well, regardless, the next time something like this happens," Drogba said loudly, addressing the entire room, the other officers turning around at his raised voice, "we'll do the rescuing. We'll get inside the bloody building and deal with the fire or flood or whatever the hell's thrown at us. And we're going to get those 'heroes' straight - figure out whether they're with us or against us."
"Why so dramatic, boss?" John drawled. "The people got out alright, the Force pissed off. What's the bother?"
Drogba stared him down. "When you've lived through what I've lived through, you won't be asking me that kind of shit."
* * * * *
"I think we should just destroy him here," Guti said, ignoring the thumping noises behind him as Fernando struggled to release himself of the thick ropes around his naked body, his clothes and mask on the floor next to him. The weapons which had been strapped to his legs - knives, and slender pistols - were among the effects.
"No," Raúl said shortly.
Guti sighed. "Why?"
"Destroying the son of a bitch doesn't interest me," Raúl explained as he eyed Fernando with interest. "Destroying him in the way you mean, anyway."
"Aren't we just overcomplicating things?" Guti complained, all pouting lips and frowning eyes and hands on hips. "If we just get rid of them, one by one, we -"
"Baby," Raúl said, stepping closer to Guti to rest a hand gently on his cheek, instantly silencing him mid-sentence, "you know that's not why we're trying to break down these idiots." Tossing a glance towards Fernando, who had momentarily frozen but now began his thrashing again, Raúl exhaled, long and slow. "You know who screwed us over. And it wasn't this piece of shit and his friends," he said, throwing a pitying look at the gagged and bound figure who continued to hum and shake in futile protest.
Guti's eyes closed briefly under the warm touch of Raúl's hand, his words washing over him, so full of that familiar knowledge and reassurance. As much as he trusted his lover, however, he couldn't shake the hesitation building up inside him.
Sensing Guti's reluctance, Raúl pressed a firm kiss to his lips. "Stop stressing," he said softly as he pulled back. "I know what I'm doing. I'm going to make sure this goddamn city gets what it -"
His words were interrupted by a knock at the door. Still holding Raúl, Guti turned his head, before flicking it back to raise his eyebrows expectantly.
"That'll be Gago," Raúl said assuredly. "Well, go on," he added, pulling out of Guti's reach.
Guti sighed once more as he turned to head down the hall and to the door. Indeed, it was Gago, who gave Guti a fleeting glance before pushing past him and towards Raúl.
"Good evening to you, too," Guti said wearily.
He shuffled back to the living room to see Raúl and Gago both gazing at Fernando appraisingly, whose face, which had for most of the time borne an unmistakeable mask of loathing, was now light and peaceful as he looked back up at Gago.
"I thought he should probably get working right away," Raúl explained to Guti in a whisper, who came up behind him and slung an arm around his waist, Raúl holding his hand as it rested just over his navel. "To make sure he's in prime condition for what will probably be the most memorable night he's ever had - if only he could remember it."
Guti peered over Raúl's shoulder at Gago. "Have you done the job with Sergio?"
"Oh, yeah," Gago replied casually, not taking his eyes off Fernando, who was staring up at him with awe, his mouth no longer taped over. "Just wait until tomorrow. The shit will well and truly hit the fan, and blondey here's going to get splattered."
Wincing slightly at the quip towards Fernando's hair, Guti rested his chin on Raúl's shoulder as he watched the scene unfold.
Carefully unwinding the rope from around Fernando's wrist, Gago whispered to him.
"You love Sergio." His words were like chocolate, his voice coating every syllable in warmth such that Guti couldn't shake the feeling that even he was melting a little.
"Mmm," Fernando hummed agreeably as he smiled lazily up at Gago, not making the slightest attempt to move now that his hands and legs were free of their restrictions.
Gago smiled back. "You want to see him right now - you want to make sure he's okay, am I right?"
"Yes," Fernando breathed. "You're rather disconcertingly right."
Guti snorted, and Raúl squeezed his hand pointedly, his eyes fixated on Gago and Fernando.
"Well, let's head over and have a happy reunion, hey? I hope you don't mind if I join in," Gago smiled.
Raúl chuckled. "Are you planning to do what it sounds like you're planning to do?"
Gago turned around and grinned. "Will nudity be censored on the early morning news?"
Guti saw the corners of Raúl's eyes disappear into familiar crinkles as he smiled back. "I'm afraid so."
"Ah, well then," Gago shrugged, "I may just have to turn to Plan B. It'll be just as much fun, though."
Part III