(no subject)
title: a wild thing.
characters: fernando torres/sergio ramos. a bit of steven gerrard/xabi alonso, iker casillas/cesc fabregas. david villa. pepe reina.
rating: r.
disclaimer: i'm lying.
word count: 10088.
notes: torero au. firstly, I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT MY OTHER FIC, but i really am struggling with the part 2, so bare with me. hahahaha. secondly, there really was a matador that killed 6 when he was 16. anyway. people i know were requesting sergio/fernando, so there you go. posting bc distira was desperate.
“Cayetano fought the biggest I’ve seen in a while yesterday,” is the first thing Xabi says to Sergio when he walks into the training center.
Sergio hops down from his pull-up bar, wipes his hands with a towel. “Yeah? How big?”
“704 kilos,” Xabi says, and Pepe whistles under his breath, long and low.
Sergio glares at him. “Find me a bigger one.”
Sergio Ramos wasn't always the best, you know. At one point in his career, a few years ago, he was almost killed by a bull in Málaga. After that, he decided to never step foot in Málaga. It was that one time, and that one time proved to be bad enough. But it was way before that that got him famous, that made his name known not only throughout all of Spain but across the world. When he was only 16, he killed 6 bulls in one match. It was all over headlines, “Teen matador kills 6 bulls in rare match,” “16 year old versus 6, breaks records,” “Superstar teen matador kills 6 of 6,” they said. Sergio Ramos was the new face of the country - forget tennis, forget football - it was all about Sergio Ramos.
Now, at 24, he’s an even better bullfighter than before, with an even bigger reputation to uphold.
Sergio has been fighting toros bravos from the Torres ranch since as long as he can remember. The owner - José Torres - was a famous bullfighter when Sergio was a kid, and so he went searching for his ranch when he was given the opportunity. They always provide their best bulls for Sergio, mostly because Sergio knows all sorts of random trivia facts about José, and has-beens always love that sort of attention.
Sergio goes over personally whenever he wants a personal favor. Like now. “I need a big one, José,” he says. His tone has a hint of pleading to it. Not something uncommon by Sergio Ramos, and it always gets José exactly where Sergio wants him. Sympathetic.
“We’re still developing our biggest one, Ramos. In about a year, you’ll have yourself the biggest bull the country has ever seen.”
“But I need one now.” Now it’s demanding. Xabi hates when he gets like this, gets embarrassed that he’s training with someone who acts like he owns the world. But he might as well, he’s Sergio Ramos, after all.
José sighs, holds up his hands. “The only one I’ve got is 691 kilos. Next time I can give you a bigger one, but for now…”
Sergio sighs, turns to Xabi. He does a weird thing with his eyes, something he’s grown accustomed to do lately, and somehow expects Xabi to understand. Xabi says, “I still don’t know what you mean when you do that,” and Sergio’s eye expressions turn into a glare, which Xabi can read very well.
José suppresses a smile. “I’ll try, Sergio. It’s the best I can do, come back in two weeks and we’ll see if any have grown.”
A smile breaks out on Sergio’s face. “Thank you,” he starts but is cut off.
José shakes his head. “I’m only doing it for my son! He’s a big fan,” which is what he always says.
In the mornings, Sergio lies in bed and pretends to sleep when he’s really awake. He lies to everyone that he likes to sleep in, just so they won’t bother him.
Sometimes he just likes to get away, relax. He doesn’t look like it, but he likes to think. Wonders what his life would be if he hadn’t gone to that bullfighting school way back when, if he’d be working as a waiter or something, barely scraping by.
He’s grateful for his career, but it’s tiring. He hates how it affects his mother. She chain-smokes for days before one of his fights, barely leaves her room. Prays a lot. She always has a rosary in her hands, muttering prayers under her breath.
Sergio always wears one under his clothes.
Once 9 o’clock hits, though, he’s under a flurry of instructions throughout the rest of the day. 9:45, breakfast. 11:05, morning jog with Pepe. 12:30, core training. 2:00, siesta. 5:15, “bull” practice. And so it goes.
It’s not cheating if Sergio checks out his bulls a few days before the fight, which he almost always does. If he’s lucky, Cesc will be available for the big day. Cesc is one of his picadores. He likes Cesc. He has to remind Xabi that he wants him to use the old cape, not the new one.
His head hurts when he thinks about what he has to do, despite it not being that much. He just wants to take it one fight at a time, but he has back to back ones on Friday and Saturday, so he needs to check out both bulls today, and that means -
He sighs. He calls Pepe, asks him to check out the bulls from the Navas Ranch he’ll be fighting. Pepe says no.
The crowd cheers for the bull - Fernando’s bull - to be pardoned. “¡Indulto, indulto!” They scream. Fernando smirks a little, pride settling somewhere in between his chest and his ribcage. He hasn’t been to a fight in years, hasn’t really bred a bull in some time as well. But this one is his dad’s, and he’s been back for a few months so he stakes claim on the new batch.
He’s about to go down to talk to the matador that fought his bull, (Cayetano, Spain’s best, Fernando thinks.) when the next bull fight starts, and Fernando’s surprised to see Sergio Ramos. The Sergio Ramos. He’s never seen a bullfight of his in person, except that one, years back, that made Sergio Ramos a name.
He sits back down.
He heads back down to the torero quarters to talk to Cayetano afterwards. He finds him engaged in conversation with someone else, he can’t tell from this angle, but he thinks he looks an awful lot like - Fernando stops, surprised. It really is him. Sergio Ramos. How odd, he thinks, because don’t they hate each other? Isn’t Ramos an asshole? Fernando has never met him, and his dad loves him, but he’s heard the stories. He still likes watching him though, because Sergio Ramos has a step that’s more graceful than the old greats.
Fernando panics a bit. He’s never met Sergio Ramos, he doesn’t want to meet Sergio - not now when he’s all sweaty like this. Just as he turns around to leave, he hears it. And Fernando has always been unlucky, so he shouldn’t be surprised, but he still cringes when he hears Cayetano call his name. “Fer! Come over here!”
Fernando turns. “Hey!” It’s all he can manage to say. He walks over. Sergio is staring at him. Eying him, even.
Cayetano introduces him, “This is Fernando. Fernando, this is Sergio.”
Sergio smiles, “Hello,” and his eyes don’t leave Fernando’s. Fernando’s hands are sweating. He hopes Sergio doesn’t decide to shake his hand or something. He wipes his hand on the side of his pants, pretends he’s itching his leg.
Sergio holds out his hand. Great, Fernando thinks, and shakes his back. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Sergio purrs. Fucking purrs. Even Cayetano raises an eyebrow.
Fernando leaves pretty quickly. Says a quick word before he heads off, but it’s not long before someone is calling out his name and suddenly beside him. “Fernando, right?” It’s Sergio. Sergio Ramos.
“Uh,” Fernando starts. He clears his throat. “Yeah.”
Sergio smiles. “How come I’ve never seen you around? Cayetano said you’re a breeder?”
“Yeah, my dad is. I’ve been away, school and stuff.” He pauses, continues even though he knows Sergio doesn’t really care. “But now I’m back for good. Going into the family business, and all.”
“That’s nice,” Sergio says in a way that says he’s not really listening, hasn’t registered anything Fernando just said. He licks his lips, eyes on Fernando’s. He shifts closer, and Fernando tries to stay calm, like it’s no big deal that Sergio Ramos is only inches away from him. No big deal. Not at all.
Fernando plays it cool enough. He doesn’t even flinch when someone calls Sergio’s name and Sergio’s head whips to the left, barks something out at Pepe. In the few seconds that he’s distracted, Fernando’s gone. He stands there, confused, before he walks back down towards Pepe. Drags his feet as he walks.
Fernando’s out back with Villa when Sergio comes to visit. He hears laughter up front, his father’s voice booming. He grabs a handkerchief and starts wiping down his hands when three heads appear, walking towards him. He puts up one hand to shield his eyes from the sun, and - it’s his father, Xabi Alonso - Sergio’s chief assistant, and - Sergio Ramos. He drops his handkerchief. He looks around for his shirt. Where the fuck did he put that shirt? Tries to stay calm.
Sergio, who’s busy talking to José about the progress of the bull, stops short when he sees Fernando. A smirk appears on his lips, and both José and Xabi wince. Xabi’s already formulating a lecture in his head when Sergio steps up towards him. “Fernando. This is your ranch?”
His grin is contagious, even Fernando can’t help it. “Yeah, I guess.”
Jose starts, “This is my son, the one-”
“Who likes me a lot?” Sergio finishes. His smirk only seems to be widening. Xabi, personally, has no idea how.
Fernando flushes. He tries to laugh it off, but Sergio’s already noticed and now their arms are touching and. Sergio says, “You should come to another one of my fights.”
“Yeah, I mean, I was lucky I saw you this weekend at least.”
Sergio smiles in approval. His eyes travel down his torso. He licks his lips. Everyone notices, and Fernando can only grin. Villa interrupts, “I’m Villa, by the way. If you were wondering, you know,” and Xabi chuckles, because Sergio really doesn’t care. His eyes don’t leave Fernando’s. Fernando says, “I was there for Cayetano’s fight, though.”
Sergio’s face flickers only a bit. “Next time, you should come for me,” he drawls, voice hinting. Fernando can’t believe he’s saying this in front of his father. He reddens quite comically, laughs nervously. He glances at his father, who seems to be oblivious.
Villa cackles. He mutters under his breath, “What the fuck.”
Xabi says, annoyed, “Can we see the bull now, please?”
José smiles, nodding to Fernando. “They want to see Guacho.”
Fernando raises an eyebrow, “He’s a big one.”
“Yeah,” Sergio says. “Exactly.”
Fernando leads the way. Xabi moves to chat with him just so Sergio can quit with the flirting. He asks, “Your dad said you were in England?”
“Yeah, studying. Got my degree in business,” he pauses, pointing out Guacho. “And now I’m back here, for good.”
“You like breeding?”
“I love it,” Villa interrupts, just because he can. For the first time, Sergio seems to notice him. He gives him an annoyed glance before turning back to Fernando.
“I like breeding, yeah. Hate bullfighting though.”
“What? Really? Is that possible?” It’s Sergio. “Your dad was one of the best.”
José flushes with pride, mumbling ‘thank you’s even though no one’s really listening to him. Fernando shrugs. “Yeah, I guess, but I love my bulls.”
“I’ve tried to explain to him a countless number of times that this type of bulls wouldn’t even be bred if it weren’t for bullfighting,” José interjects. He gives Fernando a look.
Fernando shrugs again. “Yeah, but I don’t like raising a bull only to have it killed for show.” They all lean on the rail, watching Guacho walk about. “Actually, while I was in England, I met this guy who plans on coming down to Spain to write a piece on bullfighting. You guys should come by sometime so he can interview you too.”
Xabi’s not sure if he’s just trying to get Sergio to come back, or if it’s an actual invitation. “Of course!” Sergio beams. Of course he’d accept it, of course.
The first time they hook up isn’t until a few weeks later. Sergio asks for a bathroom. Fernando offers to show him one, and despite the fact that José has shown him it a million times before, he doesn’t even blink when Fernando goes off to show him. Xabi figures this will take a while, so he pulls out his blackberry.
This is how it starts, really, in the bathroom to the right of Fernando’s bedroom. Sergio says, “So this is it, huh?”
And Fernando nods. “Yeah. Want me to show you how it works?”
Sergio laughs. He hasn’t heard an invitation like this one in ages. Fernando’s grinning. Sergio points into what looks like a bedroom (it’s Fernando’s), “What about there? Care to show me in there instead?”
“What happened to needing to go to the bathroom?” Fernando’s got a teasing hint to his voice. He never has a shirt on, it seems. Sergio thinks he could get hard just watching him.
“I think I might need to lie down instead.”
Fernando smirks, leads him into his bedroom. Once the door is closed behind him, Sergio pushes him against the wall. He kisses him, hard enough that their teeth clash. Says against his lips, “You’re really hot.”
He presses his thigh against his groin, kisses along his neck. Fernando smirks and puts his hands on Sergio’s hips. He cocks an eyebrow, “I’m a big, big fan.”
Sergio can’t handle that. He works at his pants, pushes Fernando to his knees. Fernando isn’t surprised, just drops to his knees and tugs off Sergio’s underwear. He deep throats him. Sergio thrusts into his mouth, pushes his hands into Fernando’s hair. He doesn’t even tell him when he comes; wants Fernando to swallow. He does.
Sergio comes back a few days later. Fernando’s with Iker, getting the meals ready. “Didn’t you say the English guy would be here?”
“Next week,” Fernando corrects. “And bring Xabi along for that one.”
“Alright,” Sergio says slowly. “You busy now?”
“Yeah,” Fernando says, and Sergio’s surprised. Iker stops what he’s doing to watch them, one eyebrow raised. All Fernando says in reply to Sergio’s face expression is, “I’ve got to feed the bulls.” He points to Iker as if to prove his point.
“Uh, okay.”
“You can help?” He sounds hopeful. Iker covers his smile.
“Or not,” Sergio smirks. Walking backwards towards where he’s parked. Fernando’s hot, but not hot enough, he thinks. Iker glares at the back of his head.
Xabi, Pepe, and Sergio go back the next week. “Where’s the Englishman?” Pepe booms once he’s within hearing distance. Fernando sitting on the swing with him, maybe too close, and Sergio wrinkles his nose. He walks closer to hear the man speaking badly accented Spanish. The man stands up when they’re near, shakes all their hands. In Spanish, he says, “Hello, my name is Steven Gerrard.” He butchers even that by saying, mi nombre soy Steven Gerrard.
Xabi laughs, replies in English (to Sergio’s surprise). “I’m Xabi Alonso, this is Pepe and Sergio.”
Pepe even starts speaking English. Sergio sputters. He’s not sure what any of them are saying. He glares when they all burst out in laughter, pulls out his phone and starts texting random people about his anger.
Fernando glances at him, shifts closer and leans in to whisper in his ear while no one is watching, “You okay?”
Sergio shrugs him off, increases the distance between them again.
Fernando unbuttons Sergio’s pants, slipping his hand inside. Sergio grunts, lifts his legs up against the bathroom counter. Fernando starts to jerk him off, slowly at first. Sergio pants into his ear, “You’re not fucking Gerrard, are you?”
“No,” Fernando breathes out, the ghost of a smile on his face.
“I don’t care if you do, it’s just -” His hips jerk forward, into Fernando’s hand. “Don’t.”
“Okay,” Fernando says, calmly. Like the thought of defying Sergio never crossed his mind.
Guacho goes down easily. Well, according to Sergio. In reality, Xabi was sweating buckets in worry.
Fernando goes to the fight. He winces every time Guacho gets close to Sergio, and not for Guacho’s sake, which is a first. Sergio’s distracted. Anyone with eyes who has seen him before can tell. Fernando doesn’t want to get cocky, because Sergio’s Sergio and he’d never admit to it - but it’s because of Fernando. He smiled the moment he saw him in the stands, glanced over at him every few minutes before he went on.
Fernando waits out back for him. He knows he’s pissed about how the fight went, and probably even more pissed that it was because of Fernando. “What are you doing back here?” He snaps.
Fernando offers a shrug. “Wanted to see you.”
“Well, I’m busy.”
“Really,” he replies, voice flat.
Sergio glances at him. Fernando walks to the door and closes it. He leans back against it and waits. Sergio stares up at the ceiling for a moment before he walks over. Fernando places a hand on his hip. “I don’t like you,” Sergio says, and Fernando presses his body up against his.
“I know,” Fernando smirks slowly. Lets it take over his entire face, dimples and all. Sergio feels his chest expand at just his face and has to look away. He kisses him, hard enough for Fernando to lose his breath. He says, “Come over later?”
Sergio feels vulnerable. He hates feeling vulnerable. He looks away. “I, uh, have plans with someone else tonight.”
“Oh,” Fernando says dumbly. “Who?”
“Some guy,” Sergio shrugs, face hardening.
“Oh,” is all Fernando can say. He clears his throat, “Maybe tomorrow then,” before he leaves.
Sergio comes by the next day with Cesc. Fernando isn’t even working. He’s lying in the grass, a beer in his hand, with Villa and Iker. He raises an eyebrow when he sees Sergio. “You came?”
He shrugs. “Needed a bathroom.”
Fernando breaks into a grin. “Right,” and glances at Cesc, nodding at him. “I’m Fernando.”
“Cesc, I’m the -”
“Picador, right,” Villa finishes.
Iker puts down his beer, looking at him. “You did well yesterday.”
Cesc glances at him. Suddenly he’s smiling. “Thanks.”
Sergio looks at Fernando sternly. “So. Bathroom. Where is it again?”
Fernando pulls off his shirt, discards it somewhere on the floor. Sergio kisses up his chest. Pretends this is how he normally treats the guys he sleeps with. He doesn’t prepare him, to make up for it. He just pushes all the way in, and Fernando just squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t complain. Sergio watches his lower lip quiver as he sucks in a breath. He wants to kiss the pain off his face - wants to kick himself for wanting to and only fucks him harder. Fernando takes it, though. Afterwards, he has a hard time walking. Iker just raises an eyebrow when they come back outside, and Villa guffaws. “I’m not taking up any of your work because of this, you know.”
Cesc shakes his head. “We should go, Sergio,” he says it the way he’d say it to a child, a big smile and slow instructions.
“You don’t have to,” Iker starts, but Sergio just shakes his head, says something about coming back another day and then they’re gone. He doesn’t look at Fernando the whole time.
Sergio shows up again a few days later, during what should be his siesta. Fernando looks surprised, a bushel of hay in one hand. “Back again so soon?”
“I’m checking out another bull.”
“Yeah? Which one?” He grins. He knows he’s lying.
“Uh,” Sergio scratches his back. Pulls a name out of his ass he knows he’s heard around the ranch. “Nacho.”
“Nacho,” Fernando repeats.
“Yeah, Nacho. Where is he?”
Fernando gives a quick shake of his head, amused, and waves him over to follow. He leads him past a fenced area to the back, where a bull calf is being nursed by its mother. “Didn’t know you were downgrading to calves these days, Serg,” he finally allows himself to grin. “But I guess Cayetano has been giving you too much pressure.”
Sergio tries to muster up a glare before he lets it go and laughs. Fernando walks him back to where he had the bushels of hay. “Help me out first, then we can check out the bathroom.”
Sergio smiles fondly at the back of his head. He grabs a bushel and hoists it up onto his shoulder. “Where do I take this, Torres?”
Fernando takes a bushel himself and leads him to a gated area. He drops his bushel and climbs over the gate, takes Sergio’s from him and sets it down. Sergio hands him the second one when he notices a bull charging for him. “Fer!” He starts, voice panicked, but Fernando’s already jumped over the fence. Sergio looks at him with wide eyes. “Is that how you’re supposed to do it?! Almost die while you’re trying to feed him?”
Fernando laughs. “I didn’t almost die, Sergio.” His voice is irritatingly reassuring. Like Sergio was worried or something.
Sergio grunts. “Whatever,” and turns back to look at the bull. He’s a young one, but he’s big. “When will he be ready to fight?”
Fernando glances at him wearily. “Sergio,” he starts, and Sergio interrupts him.
“When will he be ready to fight?”
“Not for another 6 months or so.”
“Oh, your dad told me about this one before.” He pauses, “What’s his name?”
“Barbudo,” Fernando says, staring off at him eating away at his hay. “He’s the craziest bull we’ve ever had, you know.”
“Can’t wait,” Sergio says, turns around and starts walking back to the hay stacks.
Fernando leans onto the gate. Pictures Sergio fighting Barbudo. Feels sick, a bit.
Sergio goes back the next day. And the next. And the next. It becomes a part of his routine. After his bull practice ends around 7 pm, he drives over to Fernando’s, usually with either Xabi or Cesc. Sometimes both. Sometimes alone. It doesn’t really matter, though, because he and Fernando tend to sneak off somewhere together.
This time, it’s to the outer fields at the edge of the ranch, where the hay is high and they can lay there and not be seen. Fernando has his left arm behind his head. Sergio is unsurprisingly close, their arms touching. “Look, Orion’s belt,” Sergio says, voice soft.
Fernando doesn’t see him like this often. He’s usually Sergio the Matador - which is synonymous to Sergio the Asshole. Sometimes, when they have sex, he sees flashes of Sergio just being Sergio. “You know astrology?”
“Yeah,” Sergio shrugs. “My brother was crazy about it, before.”
“Before?”
Sergio smiles sadly. “Before I was famous, I guess. Now he doesn’t have time for the stars.”
Fernando glances at him. “And you?”
“Me?” Sergio mumbles, “I don’t either, I guess.”
Fernando turns on his side. He studies him. “I like you,” he says, voice soft.
Sergio’s head snaps to the side. “You know this isn’t about that,” his voice is hard.
“I know,” Fernando lies. He turns back to the stars.
“It’s nothing personal,” he hears Sergio say. “I just have to focus on my bullfighting.”
Fernando goes to all of Sergio’s bullfights. Sergio’s better at ignoring his presence there since the first time. It doesn’t affect him anymore.
But once, Fernando goes to the bathroom just before his fight, and Sergio is almost gored when he doesn’t see his face in the stands. All he can think about is why Fernando’s not there and what’s happened and is he mad at him? When he goes out to the callejón for a 30 second break, Xabi hisses into his ear, “Get a grip, he’s here. Alright? He’s here.”
At first, Sergio doesn’t believe him, but when he glances up to Fernando’s usual seat and sees him there, a surge of relief rushes through him. He pulls an estocada within 15 seconds of being back in the ring.
Fernando’s surprised when he sees Sergio, Xabi, and Pepe there to actually check out a bull. He can’t remember the last time Sergio actually came for work.
He and Villa walk out from the barn out back, and Villa raises an eyebrow. Pepe’s talking loudly about the bull’s weight with José. Sergio smiles when he sees Fernando walking up. Fernando interrupts, wiping his hands on his jeans as he reaches them, “Which bull are we talking about?”
“Bailador,” Xabi fills him in, arms crossed as he listens.
“Uf, he’s a big one,” Fernando says, eyes on Sergio.
Sergio’s not even listening anymore, just smirking at Fernando. He’s busy making a face at him when Xabi slaps his chest, says, “Want to see him?”
He startles back into the conversation, nodding, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”
Fernando laughs. Xabi glares at him. Pepe walks up front with José as they continue discussing Bailador (“Is there any way he can be more than 704 kilos in the next week?”). Sergio nudges Fernando’s shoulder as they walk. He grins at him, and Villa, who’s on his other side, can only roll his eyes. “Get a room,” he mutters. Fernando laughs, brushes his fingers against Sergio’s.
They stay afterwards when Stevie shows up. “Hey, ready for that interview?”
Xabi nearly falls over his feet trying to reach him, and even Villa has his eyebrows raised. “What the fuck was that?” He jerks his thumb towards Xabi, and Pepe swats at him.
“Leave him alone,” Sergio says. “He has a crush.”
Stevie hears, of course, and tries not to redden. He sits them all down for the interview. “What’s your opinion on bullfighting?”
“You’re asking bullfighters this, you know,” Villa says, voice flat.
Stevie ignores him, and everyone goes around answering. Fernando and Villa stand in the back, just watching. Stevie asks, “What’s the worst thing about bullfighting, for you?”
Sergio thinks about it for a long moment. “My mom - she’s having a tough time with it. Hates it.”
Fernando nods, mumbles, “Mine did too.” Sergio turns around and looks at him.
Villa says, “Mine does too,” a pause. “Does this mean you’ll fuck me with your eyes now too?”
“So how do you feel about bullfighting?” Xabi asks, later that day.
Stevie shrugs, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He coughs. “Uh, I’m not too fond of it.”
Xabi’s amused. “Really? Why?”
“Killing a bull for entertainment?” Stevie scoffs. “It’s a sick way to bide your time. You should watch football instead.”
Xabi frowns, but he’s heard this argument a hundred times before. “It’s not for entertainment,” is all he can think of because he’s not quite sure what to say to Stevie, with his intense gaze focused on Xabi.
Stevie shakes his head, suppressing a fond smile. “Right, Xabi.” He glances at him. “It’s a shame you’re a bullfighter.”
“Well, I’m not a matador, but - ” He stops. “Wait, why’s it such a shame?”
“Because I like you,” Stevie smirks, and Xabi’s not sure if he means I like you or I like you or -
He reddens, mumbles a “thank you” before he goes off, in search of Sergio.
Rene, Sergio’s brother, pulls Xabi aside after their latest bullfight. He says, quietly into his ear, “What’s with the Torres kid always coming to the fights?”
Xabi shrugs. He doesn’t meet his eyes. “He’s Sergio’s friend.”
“Yeah,” Rene says, voice tight. “Sergio’s playing a risky game, and he needs to quit it.”
“What?” Xabi makes a face, increases the space in between them so he can get a good look at his face. Wants to see if he’s serious.
He is. “He needs a girlfriend.”
“You’re bullshitting me,” Xabi says, voice hard.
Rene shrugs. He doesn’t look happy about what he’s saying, at least there’s that, Xabi thinks. “Tell him to get a girlfriend, Xabi. Cayetano has one, and Sergio’s off frolicking about with the breeder’s son,” a pause. “He needs to get his head screwed on right.”
Xabi starts, “You can’t just - ”
“I’m his brother,” Rene interrupts, voice a bit strained. “You’re not. I know what’s best for him, alright?”
Xabi doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just goes back to the changing quarters where the rest of the guys are. He doesn’t meet Sergio’s eyes.
Sergio’s doing sit ups when Xabi walks into the weight room. He clears his throat. “We need to talk, Sergio.”
Sergio keeps up with his sit ups, just nodding at him, like, yeah, let’s talk. “What’s up?”
Xabi rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable. He clears his throat. “Well, uh, your brother thinks - he thinks that maybe you should, you know,” he makes an odd gesture with his hands, and Sergio thinks, no, I don’t know. He finishes in a flurry, “Get a girlfriend.”
Sergio stops, in the middle of his sit up. “What?” He asks weakly, sitting up completely.
“I don’t know, hombre,” Xabi sighs. “He thinks it’s better for your image if you have a girl.”
“But - ” Sergio wants to say, I have Fernando. But I have Fernando. He doesn’t. Says, “Guess he’s right.”
Sergio rushes over to Fernando’s. He’s in front of the house, just getting out of his own truck when Sergio gets there. He takes his hand and pulls him into the house. Fernando stumbles while they walk. He laughs, “What’s going on?”
Sergio doesn’t say anything, just pulls him into his bedroom and kisses him hard. “I need you,” he says, and Fernando shuts up. Just wraps his arms around him tightly. Sergio pulls back to breathe. His breathing is audible against Fernando’s face. He gives him a loaded look and has to look away, embarrassed at how he’s reacting to this. At having to stop this.
He works Fernando’s pants with one hand, the other on Fernando’s face and he’s kissing him again. “I need you to fuck me,” he whispers against his lips. Fernando pulls back, surprised. He looks at him seriously. Almost asks, really?, but doesn’t. He pushes him up against the wall, and Sergio braces himself up against the door. He wraps his legs around Fernando’s waist. Fernando asks, “The stuff?”
“Just-” Sergio starts, shifting. “Just fuck me, please. I want - I want to feel you.”
Fernando grows impossibly hard at that. Thinks he’s going to come right then and there. He spits into his hand, rubs his cock a few times before he thrusts in straight away. No preparing because he knows this is what Sergio needs, and it is. Sergio lets his head fall against Fernando’s shoulder, mutters obscenities under his breath. Fernando has never seen him like this. They fuck, right there against the door, and Fernando comes all the way into Sergio. Sergio slumps against him afterwards, pants into his ear. Wants to say, you’re amazing, but thinks that’s a bit too sentimental for his liking and chooses against it.
Sergio realizes he fell asleep when he wakes up, tangled in the sheets with Fernando beside him. He gets up and pulls on his briefs. He looks around for his pants, quietly, so Fernando won’t hear. Wonders if this is the best way to end it, by just leaving and not coming back. But Fernando wakes up in between the time Sergio pulls on his pants and starts looking for his shirt. “Where are you going?”
Sergio says, quickly, not turning around to look at him, “I’m getting a girlfriend.” He says it like how he’d talk about a pet, or maybe a kitchen appliance. Like, I’m getting a dog tomorrow. She’s going to be a cute dog. Tall and skinny and brunette and beautiful. When Fernando doesn’t say anything, Sergio continues, voice strained, “So we should stop this.”
Fernando stares at him. The way his shoulders are tensed. The way he’s folding his shirt over and over again, when he’s really supposed to be putting it on. Fernando gets up, wraps a blanket around his waist and walks over to him. He kisses the back of his neck, and Sergio lets out the breath he was holding in. He leans back against him a bit, and Fernando presses another kiss to his neck. Soft and tentative. He says, “Yeah, we should,” and Sergio nods. Maybe he was hoping for Fernando to put up a fight or something, to convince him to do what he wants, not what the world wants. He doesn’t, though, and Sergio leaves.
Cesc goes back to the Torres Ranch with Sergio. Sergio goes just to ‘hang out’. He helps around with Fernando, and Iker goes back into the house with Cesc and Villa to get some drinks. “So what’s all this about a girlfriend?”
Cesc shrugs. “His brother thinks it’s better for his image. Cayetano’s got one of the hottest girls in the country, and Sergio is still single.”
Iker opens his beer and puts it to his lips. “Fuck Cayetano.”
“You hate him too?” Cesc beams. “Nobody hates him. Except, like, us.”
Iker shrugs. Villa snorts. “Iker probably hates him more than you guys do.”
“Why?” Cesc asks, looking at him closely.
Iker shrugs again. “His, uh -” He clears his throat again. “His ‘hot’ girlfriend used to be mine.”
Cesc’s mouth drops open a little. Iker shrugs for the third time, uncomfortable to the max. “He used to come to check out the bulls too, and -”
“What?! No way! I thought we were the only ones that did that!” Cesc sputters into his beer.
Villa laughs, “Well, now you guys are. Because Cayetano stopped coming once we caught him with Eva.”
Iker scratches his neck. He takes a swig of his beer. He looks entirely too embarrassed. Cesc wants to hug him. He says, “If it helps, I think you’re 10 times better looking than he is.”
Iker looks up at him, a sheepish smile on his face. Villa kind of wants to throw up. “You can’t be serious,” he mutters under his breath, but no one pays any attention to him.
Iker says, kidding because he can’t think of what else to say, “I like to think so, too.”
Cesc smiles. “She was stupid,” he says lamely.
Villa watches them watch each other for a moment. He stands up, taking his beer. “You two make me sick.”
Stevie meets up with Xabi again at Sergio’s training center. “Is it true? What they’re making Sergio do?”
“What?” Xabi glances at him, his wariness evident.
Stevie shakes his head. “Xabi, I’m not daft. I know about Sergio and Fernando.”
Xabi makes a face. “There is no Sergio and Fernando, Stevie.”
Stevie raises an eyebrow. “Really,” he says flatly, and Xabi sighs.
“You’re not going to tell the press, are you?”
Stevie snorts at that. “I am the press,” he starts. “But no, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thanks,” Xabi says weakly.
“So it’s true,” Stevie says slowly. “You guys are forcing Sergio to pretend he’s straight. For his image.”
He sounds agitated, annoyed. Maybe even offended. Xabi shrugs. He looks away. “I don’t want him to, his brother does.”
“How does that make it any better?”
“Fuck, Stevie,” Xabi says, exasperated. “I know it sucks, okay? But this isn’t something only bullfighters do. Footballers, politicians, movie stars - they all do it.”
Stevie frowns. “That doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong.”
Cesc wanders around the ranch until he finds Iker, alone, in one of the fields. Iker glances over at him, “Hi?”
And Cesc smiles. “Hey.”
Iker isn’t sure how Cesc managed to get into his pants, that first time, way out in the fields of the Torres Ranch - but somehow he does, and somehow he makes it so that Iker doesn’t want to ever stop.
Xabi goes over to Fernando’s in search of Stevie, who happens to be there quite a bit sometimes. “Stevie!” He calls out to where he’s sitting next to Fernando.
Stevie smiles instantly, like their last encounter didn’t even happen. “I knew you’d come find me,” he says as Fernando goes off somewhere.
“Actually, I came for a bull,” Xabi starts, ready with a lie. Stevie raises an eyebrow, like, I don’t believe you, and Xabi laughs. “Okay, I came to talk to you.”
“Yeah? What about?”
Xabi scratches his back. “Listen, Stevie - if it were up to me, I’d let Sergio be with whoever he wants. Alright? He’s one of my best friends, you know.”
Stevie smiles softly at him. His gaze is fond. “You came all the way here to tell me that? Did you think my opinion of you had changed?”
“Yes,” Xabi frowns, confused.
Stevie shrugs, doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “I have to lie at work about my preference.”
“Your preference?”
“Between men or women,” he says quietly, eyes downcast. He rambles, “And I was just saying - it sucks. A lot. And it sucks that Sergio has to lie about it now. And that Fernando has to get the stick of it too.”
Xabi doesn’t want to think about the other day - when Stevie said he liked him, because thinking about it will lead to dwelling over it and that will only lead to Xabi being an idiot and. Xabi touches his arm. “Yeah, it does.” After a while, he says, “You should come to a bullfight, once. For work, you know.”
Fernando continues going to Sergio’s fights. He takes Stevie with him to one, because he claims he wants to see a few to have a better insight for his article. It’s really because of Xabi. Fernando doesn’t blame him, because Xabi’s pretty fit. It’s just kind of odd because Xabi loves bullfighting and Stevie’s steadfast against it.
Xabi smiles widely when he sees Stevie afterwards, walking in behind Fernando. “You came!”
Stevie nods, smiling. “Yeah, I did. You looked good out there.”
Sergio, who’s standing behind Xabi, smirks at that. He’s getting out of his suit and Fernando goes over to him. He says something under his breath about Stevie and they both laugh. Stevie reddens, focuses on Xabi. Xabi says, “You should come out for drinks with us!”
Fernando’s helping Sergio take off his suit, and his hand brushes against his chest. They haven’t fucked in 3 weeks. Sergio has some new girlfriend that Fernando doesn’t care to know the name of. He hands him a t-shirt to put on. Sergio’s staring at him. “I, uh,” he looks past him at Xabi, makes sure he isn’t paying attention before he continues. “I need to use the restroom. Do you?”
Fernando grins slowly and follows him. Xabi doesn’t even notice they’ve left. Sergio locks the bathroom door to make sure no one can come in. He leans in and kisses Fernando hard, like if he doesn’t, he won’t be able to breathe. He mutters, “I’ve missed the shit out of you,” before he realizes what he’s said. “I mean, this. I’ve missed this.”
Fernando only shakes his head and kisses him again. Sergio hoists himself up onto the counter. He spreads his legs out wide so Fernando can settle in between. He kisses his ear. Fernando unbuckles his own jeans while Sergio works at his. He uses his spit to prepare Sergio. He’s in all the way until his knuckles when Sergio mutters, “Just fuck me already,” and Fernando can only comply. He pushes in slowly this time, presses kisses to his skin as he does. Sergio mutters words against Fernando’s skin, things that he would never say out loud. Fernando can’t make out the words, doesn’t pay attention to them. Sergio mumbles his name when he comes.
Sergio gets up even earlier these days. Sometimes he sits in his bedroom and stares out at the sun. Other times, he goes for his walks. When he reaches the Rio, he stands there. Thinks about maybe bringing Fernando here once. He thinks he’d like it here, maybe.
Some nights, when he actually has dinner with his family, his brother asks about his day.
Sergio has to bite his tongue to not mention the Torres Ranch or how he’s there all the time or how he goes there for one reason and the reason isn’t a bull. Rene watches him closely, when Sergio takes his time in answering, when he acts like he really has to think about his words. Sergio’s mother never asks. She likes to pretend he’s not a bullfighter - and by pretending he’s not, she pretends he’s not there. Doesn’t exist. He tells her he loves her, every time, and she just nods.
“I like you,” Cesc says to Iker one afternoon, when they’re in the barn.
“What?” Iker glances up, surprise written all over his face.
“Why are you so shocked?” He laughs, his fingers playing idly on Iker’s arm.
Iker shrugs, has to think about it for a moment. “Because Fernando told Sergio he liked him and Sergio freaked the fuck out.”
Cesc throws his head back at that, laughs so loudly Iker’s scared Fernando (or, God forbid, Villa) will hear. “I’m not Sergio.” A pause, “He’s a wimp when it comes to feelings.”
Iker smirks at that. “And you?”
Cesc hums, leaning in close to say against his lips, “I know what I want.”
“And what do you want?” Iker asks slowly, eyes not leaving his.
“You.”
Sergio comes over around 11 pm one night, much later than the usual 7 that Fernando’s used to. He lets himself into Fernando’s room and gets into bed with him.
Fernando stirs awake, his forehead wrinkles. He mumbles, “What’re you doing here so late?”
“Why are you in bed so early, is the real question,” Sergio whispers, a smile in his voice.
Fernando rubs a hand over his face. He’s tired. He can’t help being tired. He works from 6 am every day. “What took you so long?”
Sergio shrugs, doesn’t meet his eyes. “I was with Lara.”
“Oh,” is all Fernando says. He pulls Sergio to him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him, soft and tender.
Sergio hums against his lips, moves to straddle his hips. Fernando tries to push away the rush of jealousy in his chest. Tries not to think about Sergio with whatsherface. He blocks out images of Sergio with anyone else but him, presses his hands against Sergio’s skin. Sergio studies him for a moment before he swoops down and kisses him again. He fucks him that night, and doesn’t think of Lara at all. Doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt in his actions.
Fernando walks in on Iker and Cesc having sex one afternoon. He stumbles over his words, “Oh - fuck - I’m sorry - I - uh - I’m just going to - I’m going to leave - uh - okay - bye.”
He runs to Villa. Tells him everything. Villa can’t contain his laughter. “Are you serious? I have to see this for myself,” and starts towards the barn. Fernando tries to hold him back, but Villa is adamant. Sadly, by the time he makes it to the barn, Iker is coming out of it with his pants on. He looks flustered, walks past Villa and straight to Fernando. “I’m sorry about that, I, uh,” he stops and clears his throat.
“It’s okay,” Fernando says slowly, looking past him to where Cesc is coming out of the barn, red faced.
“I hope you’re both embarrassed,” Villa laughs and Iker glares at him. “This is almost as good as a walk of shame.”
“This is a walk of shame,” Iker mutters.
Cesc speaks up, “I’m, uh, going to go.”
Iker moves to him automatically. He rubs the back of Cesc’s head and leans in before he realizes where he is. He straightens up and nods. “Uh, yeah,” and moves away. Cesc squeezes his hand as he walks past.
It’s all over Hola magazine. Sergio and Lara. Fernando doesn’t know how to handle it the first time he sees it, just stares and stares until Villa snaps his fingers in his face. Fernando glances at him, “Huh?” Before he focuses back on the magazine cover. His eyebrows furrow and he turns the pages until he reaches the headline story. He scans the story, reads bits and pieces: Sergio and Lara have been dating for the past month, and close sources say that Lara is smitten, and Sergio, himself, was overheard the other day saying that he’s in love with her - Fernando stops. He rereads the sentence. It feels like something in the pit of his stomach is moving its way up his esophagus.
Villa (who must’ve been reading over his shoulder) says, “I’m sure it’s just a publicity thing, Fer,” in a tone so comforting that it makes Fernando want to bang his head against a wall.
“Right,” Fernando says, not quite believing it himself.
The next time Sergio stops by, it’s for business. “I want to fight Jocinero.”
Fernando crosses his arms. And then he recrosses them. “He’s huge, Sergio. Like, 704 kilos huge.”
“Yeah, exactly why I want to fight him, Fer.”
José starts, “Okay, let’s show you him,” when Fernando interrupts him.
“We’re not showing him Jocinero. He’s fucking huge,” he’s talking to his dad but he’s looking at Sergio. His voice loses it’s sharpness, but not his resolution when he says, “You’re not fighting him, Sergio.”
Sergio moves to him - gets in his face and he’s clearly annoyed. Xabi and Pepe can only watch, interested only in how this will end. José shakes his head, embarrassed or something of the sort. Villa chews on a piece of hay, eyes slightly wide. Sergio says, voice hard, “I’m a bullfighter, Fernando.”
Fernando levels him with a calm stare. “He’s my bull.”
Sergio jabs his finger to his chest. “I’m going to fucking fight him, Fernando. This is my job.”
“He’s the second biggest bull this country has seen, Sergio. Don’t be an idiot.”
Sergio spits out, “You can’t tell me which bulls I can or can’t fight.” A pause, and then, “You’re not my boyfriend, you’re my breeder.”
Fernando’s jaw clenches. (Xabi winces, has to look away. Villa throws down his piece of hay, cracks his knuckles, because he’s ready to beat the shit out of Sergio Ramos. Pepe only rubs his neck and watches on.) He unclenches it. “Fine,” he shrugs and steps back, making space between them.
Sergio nods. “Good.”
“That was stupid,” Iker says, when Villa’s done retelling what happened to Iker.
“I know,” Villa says. “But Sergio was a huge asshole.”
Iker turns to Fernando. He pats his face. “Don’t take it personally. You shouldn’t have said anything. He’s a professional for a reason, Fer. He can handle Jocinero.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Fernando mutters. He takes a swig of his beer. Glares at the wall.
Sergio ends up getting hit right through his side. It’s just a scratch, but it’s big enough for Sergio to nearly bleed to death. Fernando can’t sit still while he waits in the hospital wing of the bullring. He glances at the clock every few minutes. He forgets that he was even mad at him in the first place. Cesc pats his knee, says, “He’ll be fine.”
Xabi paces the hall. He’s almost as bad as Fernando until Stevie shows up, and Xabi seems to calm down after that. Fernando, though, he’s a wreck. Xabi says to him, “I told Lara she’s not authorized to come back here,” and Fernando can only shake his head, grateful.
The surgeon comes out a little bit later. He tells them that he only needed a few stitches, that it’s really not as bad as the blood in the ring makes it out to be.
Stevie puts an arm around Xabi’s shoulder, mostly to make sure he doesn’t get up so Fernando can see Sergio first. Xabi laughs a little and jabs his stomach, only protests weakly, “He was my friend first,” before Fernando’s heading down to Sergio’s room.
When he opens the door, Sergio’s grimacing while he tries to sit up. He deflates when he sees Fernando, like he didn’t want him to see him like this. He hates how Fernando makes his chest feel. Doesn’t quite understand it, if he’s honest. “I know what you’re going to say.”
Fernando closes the door behind him. He walks to him slowly, and when he reaches him, pushes a hand into his hair. “You’re an idiot,” he says before he leans down and kisses him.
Sergio grips his arm. “I know,” and he wants to say, but only for you. I’m an idiot for you. Fernando kisses his shoulder. He helps him put on a shirt. Sergio says, “Stop being so nice to me, Fer.” It’s in between a command and a plead.
Fernando shrugs, “I can’t help it.” I love you, he doesn’t say.
Lara’s in the hallway, waiting with the others, when Sergio comes out. She seems to be near tears when she sees him, runs to him and wraps her arms around him. It’s like a scene from a movie. Sergio wraps his arms around her.
Sergio comes over a few days later. Technically, he’s supposed to be resting because of his wound, but he thinks being with Fernando is calming, so. He helps Fernando feed a few of the bulls. He helps him clean the barn. He helps him stack the hay. They don’t talk about the Jocinero argument. They sit in the grass towards the end of the day, when the sun is setting, and Fernando says something that makes Sergio laugh. He rolls in the grass, laughing, when suddenly Fernando says, voice sharp, “Sergio, you’re bleeding.”
Sergio looks down. “Oh, no it’s just my bandages. I need to change them.” He stands up, pulls Fernando up with him and they head to the bathroom.
Sergio sits on the bathroom countertop and Fernando helps him take off his shirt. He throws out his old bandages. He takes a towel, wipes down where Sergio’s stitches used to be. His finger drifts over it. He presses a kiss to the top of it, and Sergio moves his arm back so Fernando has more room. He sucks up his torso until he latches onto his neck. Sergio doesn’t even care that he’ll probably going to leave a mark, just leans more and more into his touch. When Sergio’s neck is nice and bruised, Fernando pulls back. He finishes bandaging him and pats his side to say he’s done.
Sergio and Xabi go to watch Barbudo once Sergio’s healed. “You think he’s big enough yet?”
Xabi glances at him. “Not yet. Maybe in a few weeks.”
“Hmm,” Sergio murmurs, looking out at the bull. “He looks pretty big.”
“He’s only 703 right now. We need him to be bigger than Cayetano’s.”
Sergio gets quiet for a bit. “Fernando will probably be pissed,” he says at last.
“Yeah,” Xabi says quietly. He turns and leans his side against the fence. “You care an awful lot about someone you claim to care nothing about, you know.”
Sergio’s head snaps up. “What? I - I don’t - I just.” He doesn’t finish his sentence. He looks off at Barbudo, ramming his head against a wall. “I don’t know what’s happened to me, Xabi.”
Xabi laughs at that, has nothing to say in reply.
“Why do you hate bullfighting?” Sergio asks, maybe for the millionth time. Sergio’s helping Fernando clean out the stalls, and Fernando stops, glances at him.
“How many times are you going to ask that question before it registers in your head?” He laughs.
Sergio shrugs. “I know you’re keeping something out,” he looks at him.
Fernando shrugs. He keeps his eyes on the ground.
Sergio walks over to him and touches his arm. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know,” Fernando shrugs. “You ever notice that my mom’s not around?”
Sergio’s eyes widen at that. It hadn’t occurred to him. “I,” he starts and stops. Lets Fernando continue.
“She left - a long time ago. Back when my dad was still fighting,” he shrugs. Tries to act like it doesn’t hurt anymore, but it does. “She couldn’t handle the - the -” He waves his hand around, looking for a word that fits. When he doesn’t find it, he says, “You know. The stress. All that bullshit. So she left.”
Sergio touches his arm quickly. “My mom hates me,” he admits, voice soft.
“What?” Fernando glances at him quickly. He shifts closer, their arms are grazing each other.
“For picking bullfighting - she hates me,” he stares at the wall. “She doesn’t care that I’m happy. She just hates how she’s not.”
Fernando kisses him then.
“You’re kidding me,” is what Fernando says (flatly) when he sees Iker discussing Barbudo with Sergio and the guys.
Sergio eyes him wearily. He just shrugs. Cesc speaks up, “We’ve got to come back big, Fer.”
“Aren’t you supposed to start out small? Work your way up?” Villa asks, when Fernando basically refuses to speak. He’s watching Sergio, glaring a little, but not quite.
Cesc shrugs. “We’ve been working our way up the past few years. We can’t let an injury hold us back.”
Xabi nods. “You guys don’t understand. We can’t just start over because one time he got hurt.”
“But Barbudo is even crazier than Jocinero, and he’ll have even more kilos on him by the time you guys fight him,” Iker says, slowly, eyes on Cesc like suddenly he’s a bit worried as well. Like he understands Fernando completely. Like he can’t fathom the thought of Cesc in a bullring ever again. “Are you sure you can do it?”
It’s directed at Cesc and Cesc’s eyes are soft. He breathes a laugh, touches his arm. “You guys need to quit worrying.”
Fernando continues to glare at Sergio. Sergio looks away. He moves a bit so Pepe is covering half of him. Fernando says, “That’s easier said than done.”
Xabi puts an arm around Fernando and steers him back towards the house. “I know, but we’re going to fight Barbudo anyway,” he says. “So you all might as well accept it.”
“Don’t be mad,” Sergio says as he closes Fernando’s bedroom door behind him. Fernando’s sitting on his bed, like he’s been waiting for him.
“I’m not,” Fernando says carefully.
“You act like you are,” Sergio starts and stops. Has to remind himself that he’s supposed to pretend he doesn’t care.
“I’m not,” Fernando says again, a bit more persistently. Sergio walks to the bed and sits down. One minute he’s at the opposite end and the next he’s straddling Fernando’s hips, in his lap. He kisses his jaw.
“Good,” he says in between kisses.
“Would you care? If I was mad?” Fernando asks after a few moments and Sergio stills, lips stuck to Fernando’s skin. He pulls back and looks at him.
“I, uh,” he clears his throat. He rests his forehead against his shoulder. He breathes out, “I hate you sometimes.”
“What?” Fernando breathes a laugh. He wraps his arm around his waist. “You don’t.”
“You’re right, I don’t. Not at all,” Sergio mutters against his skin. “And I hate you for that.”
Sergio tells Lara he’s fighting Barbudo and almost immediately, she’s in hysterics. “Please, don’t, Sergio. Please!”
Sergio almost laughs at her theatrics. He doesn’t see much emotion behind her eyes, like it’s all an act. And it probably is, because that’s what they’re doing, right? Acting.
He tries to explain that to her, when he does break out laughing. She’s furious, “What?! You think I’m pretending?! You think I don’t care?! Maybe you just don’t appreciate me enough!”
He tells her that maybe - maybe - she needs to get out, then.
“So you’re fighting the big one, eh?” Stevie asks quietly.
“Yeah,” Xabi shrugs, as if it’s nothing at all. Not some huge feat that’s never been done before. No sir.
“Be careful, yeah?”
Xabi glances at him. Stevie’s fidgeting with his shirt. “I’ll try my best.”
Stevie quirks a smile at that. He looks at him. Almost says, I like you a lot. Almost says, I want to kiss you. Almost says, I just want you to like me back. Instead, he says, “My article - it’s not so negative anymore, you know.”
“That’s good,” Xabi smiles.
Sergio fights Barbudo at 714 kilos. The biggest toro ever. Fernando doesn’t breathe right until Sergio pushes his espada in between Barbudo’s shoulderblades.
Somehow through the fight, Xabi gets hurt. It’s nothing serious. He’s waving the magenta and yellow cape to make it charge, and he’s not quick enough to jump out of the way when it does. It’s juvenile, an amateur could do better, Xabi will later say. Cesc is out there quickly. He distracts the bull enough that he doesn’t ram into Xabi. He’s lucky. Stevie puts his hands on his head in the stands, grits his teeth until Xabi’s safely in the callejón.
“I fucking hate bullfighitng,” he mutters and Fernando laughs. Me too, he thinks.
Sergio finishes the fight with glamour. He’s awarded both the ears, the tail, and the hoof. It’s a huge feat, and Fernando thinks even Cayetano is applauding him.
Cesc nearly topples Iker when he comes to the dressing quarters in the back. “Did you see us? Did you see that?”
Iker laughs, wraps his arms around his waist. “I saw.”
“How was I? Was I good?” He’s grinning, like he knows he was good, and just wants to hear Iker say it.
“You were sexy,” Iker whispers into his ear. Sergio hears him and laughs, says something about how he’s lucky Villa isn’t there to make fun of him. Iker doesn’t even care. “I can’t wait for tonight.”
Cesc laughs quietly. “Don’t you have to get up early in the morning?”
“I’ll quit,” Iker says, not serious, and Fernando flicks his head.
They don’t see Stevie until they get back to the Torres Ranch. He seems agitated, face a bit red by the time Xabi reaches him. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Stevie pulls him aside - away from where Sergio’s eyeing him.
Sergio watches Stevie and Xabi argue. Stevie points at Xabi’s wound, and his voice is booming. The only reason Sergio can’t make out what he’s saying is because he’s speaking in English. Xabi pushes Stevie, and Stevie pushes him right back. He wags his finger in Xabi’s face and Sergio laughs at that, like what could Stevie possibly be saying when - when Stevie pulls Xabi to him and kisses him. Xabi looks surprised. He pulls back for a second, eyes wide, and says something that makes Stevie laugh.
Stevie kisses him again.
“Lara and I broke up,” Sergio says, a can of soda in his hand.
Fernando raises an eyebrow. “I thought - weren’t you in love with her?”
“What?” Sergio laughs. He turns his head to glance at him, a look of bewilderment on his face.
“I mean, I read that you said you were in love with her,” he pauses. “Or something.”
“You were reading about me?” Sergio asks, amused.
“Fuck off,” Fernando smirks. He throws his empty can at him. Sergio dodges.
“What’d they say I said?”
“Something about you saying that you’re in love with her.” Fernando stares off into the distance. He doesn’t look at Sergio.
Sergio says slowly, “No. They misquoted it.” His voice is soft. “I said I was in love,” (Fernando glances at him then), “But I never said it was with her.”
Fernando’s mouth opens a little. “Are you serious?”
Sergio swallows. He nods. “Please don’t make me say it out loud, it’s hard enough as it is.”
Fernando laughs at that. He presses up to Sergio’s side, presses a kiss to his cheek. Says against it, “You’re an idiot,” he can feel Sergio smile against his lips. “But I love you too.”
characters: fernando torres/sergio ramos. a bit of steven gerrard/xabi alonso, iker casillas/cesc fabregas. david villa. pepe reina.
rating: r.
disclaimer: i'm lying.
word count: 10088.
notes: torero au. firstly, I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT MY OTHER FIC, but i really am struggling with the part 2, so bare with me. hahahaha. secondly, there really was a matador that killed 6 when he was 16. anyway. people i know were requesting sergio/fernando, so there you go. posting bc distira was desperate.
“Cayetano fought the biggest I’ve seen in a while yesterday,” is the first thing Xabi says to Sergio when he walks into the training center.
Sergio hops down from his pull-up bar, wipes his hands with a towel. “Yeah? How big?”
“704 kilos,” Xabi says, and Pepe whistles under his breath, long and low.
Sergio glares at him. “Find me a bigger one.”
Sergio Ramos wasn't always the best, you know. At one point in his career, a few years ago, he was almost killed by a bull in Málaga. After that, he decided to never step foot in Málaga. It was that one time, and that one time proved to be bad enough. But it was way before that that got him famous, that made his name known not only throughout all of Spain but across the world. When he was only 16, he killed 6 bulls in one match. It was all over headlines, “Teen matador kills 6 bulls in rare match,” “16 year old versus 6, breaks records,” “Superstar teen matador kills 6 of 6,” they said. Sergio Ramos was the new face of the country - forget tennis, forget football - it was all about Sergio Ramos.
Now, at 24, he’s an even better bullfighter than before, with an even bigger reputation to uphold.
Sergio has been fighting toros bravos from the Torres ranch since as long as he can remember. The owner - José Torres - was a famous bullfighter when Sergio was a kid, and so he went searching for his ranch when he was given the opportunity. They always provide their best bulls for Sergio, mostly because Sergio knows all sorts of random trivia facts about José, and has-beens always love that sort of attention.
Sergio goes over personally whenever he wants a personal favor. Like now. “I need a big one, José,” he says. His tone has a hint of pleading to it. Not something uncommon by Sergio Ramos, and it always gets José exactly where Sergio wants him. Sympathetic.
“We’re still developing our biggest one, Ramos. In about a year, you’ll have yourself the biggest bull the country has ever seen.”
“But I need one now.” Now it’s demanding. Xabi hates when he gets like this, gets embarrassed that he’s training with someone who acts like he owns the world. But he might as well, he’s Sergio Ramos, after all.
José sighs, holds up his hands. “The only one I’ve got is 691 kilos. Next time I can give you a bigger one, but for now…”
Sergio sighs, turns to Xabi. He does a weird thing with his eyes, something he’s grown accustomed to do lately, and somehow expects Xabi to understand. Xabi says, “I still don’t know what you mean when you do that,” and Sergio’s eye expressions turn into a glare, which Xabi can read very well.
José suppresses a smile. “I’ll try, Sergio. It’s the best I can do, come back in two weeks and we’ll see if any have grown.”
A smile breaks out on Sergio’s face. “Thank you,” he starts but is cut off.
José shakes his head. “I’m only doing it for my son! He’s a big fan,” which is what he always says.
In the mornings, Sergio lies in bed and pretends to sleep when he’s really awake. He lies to everyone that he likes to sleep in, just so they won’t bother him.
Sometimes he just likes to get away, relax. He doesn’t look like it, but he likes to think. Wonders what his life would be if he hadn’t gone to that bullfighting school way back when, if he’d be working as a waiter or something, barely scraping by.
He’s grateful for his career, but it’s tiring. He hates how it affects his mother. She chain-smokes for days before one of his fights, barely leaves her room. Prays a lot. She always has a rosary in her hands, muttering prayers under her breath.
Sergio always wears one under his clothes.
Once 9 o’clock hits, though, he’s under a flurry of instructions throughout the rest of the day. 9:45, breakfast. 11:05, morning jog with Pepe. 12:30, core training. 2:00, siesta. 5:15, “bull” practice. And so it goes.
It’s not cheating if Sergio checks out his bulls a few days before the fight, which he almost always does. If he’s lucky, Cesc will be available for the big day. Cesc is one of his picadores. He likes Cesc. He has to remind Xabi that he wants him to use the old cape, not the new one.
His head hurts when he thinks about what he has to do, despite it not being that much. He just wants to take it one fight at a time, but he has back to back ones on Friday and Saturday, so he needs to check out both bulls today, and that means -
He sighs. He calls Pepe, asks him to check out the bulls from the Navas Ranch he’ll be fighting. Pepe says no.
The crowd cheers for the bull - Fernando’s bull - to be pardoned. “¡Indulto, indulto!” They scream. Fernando smirks a little, pride settling somewhere in between his chest and his ribcage. He hasn’t been to a fight in years, hasn’t really bred a bull in some time as well. But this one is his dad’s, and he’s been back for a few months so he stakes claim on the new batch.
He’s about to go down to talk to the matador that fought his bull, (Cayetano, Spain’s best, Fernando thinks.) when the next bull fight starts, and Fernando’s surprised to see Sergio Ramos. The Sergio Ramos. He’s never seen a bullfight of his in person, except that one, years back, that made Sergio Ramos a name.
He sits back down.
He heads back down to the torero quarters to talk to Cayetano afterwards. He finds him engaged in conversation with someone else, he can’t tell from this angle, but he thinks he looks an awful lot like - Fernando stops, surprised. It really is him. Sergio Ramos. How odd, he thinks, because don’t they hate each other? Isn’t Ramos an asshole? Fernando has never met him, and his dad loves him, but he’s heard the stories. He still likes watching him though, because Sergio Ramos has a step that’s more graceful than the old greats.
Fernando panics a bit. He’s never met Sergio Ramos, he doesn’t want to meet Sergio - not now when he’s all sweaty like this. Just as he turns around to leave, he hears it. And Fernando has always been unlucky, so he shouldn’t be surprised, but he still cringes when he hears Cayetano call his name. “Fer! Come over here!”
Fernando turns. “Hey!” It’s all he can manage to say. He walks over. Sergio is staring at him. Eying him, even.
Cayetano introduces him, “This is Fernando. Fernando, this is Sergio.”
Sergio smiles, “Hello,” and his eyes don’t leave Fernando’s. Fernando’s hands are sweating. He hopes Sergio doesn’t decide to shake his hand or something. He wipes his hand on the side of his pants, pretends he’s itching his leg.
Sergio holds out his hand. Great, Fernando thinks, and shakes his back. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Sergio purrs. Fucking purrs. Even Cayetano raises an eyebrow.
Fernando leaves pretty quickly. Says a quick word before he heads off, but it’s not long before someone is calling out his name and suddenly beside him. “Fernando, right?” It’s Sergio. Sergio Ramos.
“Uh,” Fernando starts. He clears his throat. “Yeah.”
Sergio smiles. “How come I’ve never seen you around? Cayetano said you’re a breeder?”
“Yeah, my dad is. I’ve been away, school and stuff.” He pauses, continues even though he knows Sergio doesn’t really care. “But now I’m back for good. Going into the family business, and all.”
“That’s nice,” Sergio says in a way that says he’s not really listening, hasn’t registered anything Fernando just said. He licks his lips, eyes on Fernando’s. He shifts closer, and Fernando tries to stay calm, like it’s no big deal that Sergio Ramos is only inches away from him. No big deal. Not at all.
Fernando plays it cool enough. He doesn’t even flinch when someone calls Sergio’s name and Sergio’s head whips to the left, barks something out at Pepe. In the few seconds that he’s distracted, Fernando’s gone. He stands there, confused, before he walks back down towards Pepe. Drags his feet as he walks.
Fernando’s out back with Villa when Sergio comes to visit. He hears laughter up front, his father’s voice booming. He grabs a handkerchief and starts wiping down his hands when three heads appear, walking towards him. He puts up one hand to shield his eyes from the sun, and - it’s his father, Xabi Alonso - Sergio’s chief assistant, and - Sergio Ramos. He drops his handkerchief. He looks around for his shirt. Where the fuck did he put that shirt? Tries to stay calm.
Sergio, who’s busy talking to José about the progress of the bull, stops short when he sees Fernando. A smirk appears on his lips, and both José and Xabi wince. Xabi’s already formulating a lecture in his head when Sergio steps up towards him. “Fernando. This is your ranch?”
His grin is contagious, even Fernando can’t help it. “Yeah, I guess.”
Jose starts, “This is my son, the one-”
“Who likes me a lot?” Sergio finishes. His smirk only seems to be widening. Xabi, personally, has no idea how.
Fernando flushes. He tries to laugh it off, but Sergio’s already noticed and now their arms are touching and. Sergio says, “You should come to another one of my fights.”
“Yeah, I mean, I was lucky I saw you this weekend at least.”
Sergio smiles in approval. His eyes travel down his torso. He licks his lips. Everyone notices, and Fernando can only grin. Villa interrupts, “I’m Villa, by the way. If you were wondering, you know,” and Xabi chuckles, because Sergio really doesn’t care. His eyes don’t leave Fernando’s. Fernando says, “I was there for Cayetano’s fight, though.”
Sergio’s face flickers only a bit. “Next time, you should come for me,” he drawls, voice hinting. Fernando can’t believe he’s saying this in front of his father. He reddens quite comically, laughs nervously. He glances at his father, who seems to be oblivious.
Villa cackles. He mutters under his breath, “What the fuck.”
Xabi says, annoyed, “Can we see the bull now, please?”
José smiles, nodding to Fernando. “They want to see Guacho.”
Fernando raises an eyebrow, “He’s a big one.”
“Yeah,” Sergio says. “Exactly.”
Fernando leads the way. Xabi moves to chat with him just so Sergio can quit with the flirting. He asks, “Your dad said you were in England?”
“Yeah, studying. Got my degree in business,” he pauses, pointing out Guacho. “And now I’m back here, for good.”
“You like breeding?”
“I love it,” Villa interrupts, just because he can. For the first time, Sergio seems to notice him. He gives him an annoyed glance before turning back to Fernando.
“I like breeding, yeah. Hate bullfighting though.”
“What? Really? Is that possible?” It’s Sergio. “Your dad was one of the best.”
José flushes with pride, mumbling ‘thank you’s even though no one’s really listening to him. Fernando shrugs. “Yeah, I guess, but I love my bulls.”
“I’ve tried to explain to him a countless number of times that this type of bulls wouldn’t even be bred if it weren’t for bullfighting,” José interjects. He gives Fernando a look.
Fernando shrugs again. “Yeah, but I don’t like raising a bull only to have it killed for show.” They all lean on the rail, watching Guacho walk about. “Actually, while I was in England, I met this guy who plans on coming down to Spain to write a piece on bullfighting. You guys should come by sometime so he can interview you too.”
Xabi’s not sure if he’s just trying to get Sergio to come back, or if it’s an actual invitation. “Of course!” Sergio beams. Of course he’d accept it, of course.
The first time they hook up isn’t until a few weeks later. Sergio asks for a bathroom. Fernando offers to show him one, and despite the fact that José has shown him it a million times before, he doesn’t even blink when Fernando goes off to show him. Xabi figures this will take a while, so he pulls out his blackberry.
This is how it starts, really, in the bathroom to the right of Fernando’s bedroom. Sergio says, “So this is it, huh?”
And Fernando nods. “Yeah. Want me to show you how it works?”
Sergio laughs. He hasn’t heard an invitation like this one in ages. Fernando’s grinning. Sergio points into what looks like a bedroom (it’s Fernando’s), “What about there? Care to show me in there instead?”
“What happened to needing to go to the bathroom?” Fernando’s got a teasing hint to his voice. He never has a shirt on, it seems. Sergio thinks he could get hard just watching him.
“I think I might need to lie down instead.”
Fernando smirks, leads him into his bedroom. Once the door is closed behind him, Sergio pushes him against the wall. He kisses him, hard enough that their teeth clash. Says against his lips, “You’re really hot.”
He presses his thigh against his groin, kisses along his neck. Fernando smirks and puts his hands on Sergio’s hips. He cocks an eyebrow, “I’m a big, big fan.”
Sergio can’t handle that. He works at his pants, pushes Fernando to his knees. Fernando isn’t surprised, just drops to his knees and tugs off Sergio’s underwear. He deep throats him. Sergio thrusts into his mouth, pushes his hands into Fernando’s hair. He doesn’t even tell him when he comes; wants Fernando to swallow. He does.
Sergio comes back a few days later. Fernando’s with Iker, getting the meals ready. “Didn’t you say the English guy would be here?”
“Next week,” Fernando corrects. “And bring Xabi along for that one.”
“Alright,” Sergio says slowly. “You busy now?”
“Yeah,” Fernando says, and Sergio’s surprised. Iker stops what he’s doing to watch them, one eyebrow raised. All Fernando says in reply to Sergio’s face expression is, “I’ve got to feed the bulls.” He points to Iker as if to prove his point.
“Uh, okay.”
“You can help?” He sounds hopeful. Iker covers his smile.
“Or not,” Sergio smirks. Walking backwards towards where he’s parked. Fernando’s hot, but not hot enough, he thinks. Iker glares at the back of his head.
Xabi, Pepe, and Sergio go back the next week. “Where’s the Englishman?” Pepe booms once he’s within hearing distance. Fernando sitting on the swing with him, maybe too close, and Sergio wrinkles his nose. He walks closer to hear the man speaking badly accented Spanish. The man stands up when they’re near, shakes all their hands. In Spanish, he says, “Hello, my name is Steven Gerrard.” He butchers even that by saying, mi nombre soy Steven Gerrard.
Xabi laughs, replies in English (to Sergio’s surprise). “I’m Xabi Alonso, this is Pepe and Sergio.”
Pepe even starts speaking English. Sergio sputters. He’s not sure what any of them are saying. He glares when they all burst out in laughter, pulls out his phone and starts texting random people about his anger.
Fernando glances at him, shifts closer and leans in to whisper in his ear while no one is watching, “You okay?”
Sergio shrugs him off, increases the distance between them again.
Fernando unbuttons Sergio’s pants, slipping his hand inside. Sergio grunts, lifts his legs up against the bathroom counter. Fernando starts to jerk him off, slowly at first. Sergio pants into his ear, “You’re not fucking Gerrard, are you?”
“No,” Fernando breathes out, the ghost of a smile on his face.
“I don’t care if you do, it’s just -” His hips jerk forward, into Fernando’s hand. “Don’t.”
“Okay,” Fernando says, calmly. Like the thought of defying Sergio never crossed his mind.
Guacho goes down easily. Well, according to Sergio. In reality, Xabi was sweating buckets in worry.
Fernando goes to the fight. He winces every time Guacho gets close to Sergio, and not for Guacho’s sake, which is a first. Sergio’s distracted. Anyone with eyes who has seen him before can tell. Fernando doesn’t want to get cocky, because Sergio’s Sergio and he’d never admit to it - but it’s because of Fernando. He smiled the moment he saw him in the stands, glanced over at him every few minutes before he went on.
Fernando waits out back for him. He knows he’s pissed about how the fight went, and probably even more pissed that it was because of Fernando. “What are you doing back here?” He snaps.
Fernando offers a shrug. “Wanted to see you.”
“Well, I’m busy.”
“Really,” he replies, voice flat.
Sergio glances at him. Fernando walks to the door and closes it. He leans back against it and waits. Sergio stares up at the ceiling for a moment before he walks over. Fernando places a hand on his hip. “I don’t like you,” Sergio says, and Fernando presses his body up against his.
“I know,” Fernando smirks slowly. Lets it take over his entire face, dimples and all. Sergio feels his chest expand at just his face and has to look away. He kisses him, hard enough for Fernando to lose his breath. He says, “Come over later?”
Sergio feels vulnerable. He hates feeling vulnerable. He looks away. “I, uh, have plans with someone else tonight.”
“Oh,” Fernando says dumbly. “Who?”
“Some guy,” Sergio shrugs, face hardening.
“Oh,” is all Fernando can say. He clears his throat, “Maybe tomorrow then,” before he leaves.
Sergio comes by the next day with Cesc. Fernando isn’t even working. He’s lying in the grass, a beer in his hand, with Villa and Iker. He raises an eyebrow when he sees Sergio. “You came?”
He shrugs. “Needed a bathroom.”
Fernando breaks into a grin. “Right,” and glances at Cesc, nodding at him. “I’m Fernando.”
“Cesc, I’m the -”
“Picador, right,” Villa finishes.
Iker puts down his beer, looking at him. “You did well yesterday.”
Cesc glances at him. Suddenly he’s smiling. “Thanks.”
Sergio looks at Fernando sternly. “So. Bathroom. Where is it again?”
Fernando pulls off his shirt, discards it somewhere on the floor. Sergio kisses up his chest. Pretends this is how he normally treats the guys he sleeps with. He doesn’t prepare him, to make up for it. He just pushes all the way in, and Fernando just squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t complain. Sergio watches his lower lip quiver as he sucks in a breath. He wants to kiss the pain off his face - wants to kick himself for wanting to and only fucks him harder. Fernando takes it, though. Afterwards, he has a hard time walking. Iker just raises an eyebrow when they come back outside, and Villa guffaws. “I’m not taking up any of your work because of this, you know.”
Cesc shakes his head. “We should go, Sergio,” he says it the way he’d say it to a child, a big smile and slow instructions.
“You don’t have to,” Iker starts, but Sergio just shakes his head, says something about coming back another day and then they’re gone. He doesn’t look at Fernando the whole time.
Sergio shows up again a few days later, during what should be his siesta. Fernando looks surprised, a bushel of hay in one hand. “Back again so soon?”
“I’m checking out another bull.”
“Yeah? Which one?” He grins. He knows he’s lying.
“Uh,” Sergio scratches his back. Pulls a name out of his ass he knows he’s heard around the ranch. “Nacho.”
“Nacho,” Fernando repeats.
“Yeah, Nacho. Where is he?”
Fernando gives a quick shake of his head, amused, and waves him over to follow. He leads him past a fenced area to the back, where a bull calf is being nursed by its mother. “Didn’t know you were downgrading to calves these days, Serg,” he finally allows himself to grin. “But I guess Cayetano has been giving you too much pressure.”
Sergio tries to muster up a glare before he lets it go and laughs. Fernando walks him back to where he had the bushels of hay. “Help me out first, then we can check out the bathroom.”
Sergio smiles fondly at the back of his head. He grabs a bushel and hoists it up onto his shoulder. “Where do I take this, Torres?”
Fernando takes a bushel himself and leads him to a gated area. He drops his bushel and climbs over the gate, takes Sergio’s from him and sets it down. Sergio hands him the second one when he notices a bull charging for him. “Fer!” He starts, voice panicked, but Fernando’s already jumped over the fence. Sergio looks at him with wide eyes. “Is that how you’re supposed to do it?! Almost die while you’re trying to feed him?”
Fernando laughs. “I didn’t almost die, Sergio.” His voice is irritatingly reassuring. Like Sergio was worried or something.
Sergio grunts. “Whatever,” and turns back to look at the bull. He’s a young one, but he’s big. “When will he be ready to fight?”
Fernando glances at him wearily. “Sergio,” he starts, and Sergio interrupts him.
“When will he be ready to fight?”
“Not for another 6 months or so.”
“Oh, your dad told me about this one before.” He pauses, “What’s his name?”
“Barbudo,” Fernando says, staring off at him eating away at his hay. “He’s the craziest bull we’ve ever had, you know.”
“Can’t wait,” Sergio says, turns around and starts walking back to the hay stacks.
Fernando leans onto the gate. Pictures Sergio fighting Barbudo. Feels sick, a bit.
Sergio goes back the next day. And the next. And the next. It becomes a part of his routine. After his bull practice ends around 7 pm, he drives over to Fernando’s, usually with either Xabi or Cesc. Sometimes both. Sometimes alone. It doesn’t really matter, though, because he and Fernando tend to sneak off somewhere together.
This time, it’s to the outer fields at the edge of the ranch, where the hay is high and they can lay there and not be seen. Fernando has his left arm behind his head. Sergio is unsurprisingly close, their arms touching. “Look, Orion’s belt,” Sergio says, voice soft.
Fernando doesn’t see him like this often. He’s usually Sergio the Matador - which is synonymous to Sergio the Asshole. Sometimes, when they have sex, he sees flashes of Sergio just being Sergio. “You know astrology?”
“Yeah,” Sergio shrugs. “My brother was crazy about it, before.”
“Before?”
Sergio smiles sadly. “Before I was famous, I guess. Now he doesn’t have time for the stars.”
Fernando glances at him. “And you?”
“Me?” Sergio mumbles, “I don’t either, I guess.”
Fernando turns on his side. He studies him. “I like you,” he says, voice soft.
Sergio’s head snaps to the side. “You know this isn’t about that,” his voice is hard.
“I know,” Fernando lies. He turns back to the stars.
“It’s nothing personal,” he hears Sergio say. “I just have to focus on my bullfighting.”
Fernando goes to all of Sergio’s bullfights. Sergio’s better at ignoring his presence there since the first time. It doesn’t affect him anymore.
But once, Fernando goes to the bathroom just before his fight, and Sergio is almost gored when he doesn’t see his face in the stands. All he can think about is why Fernando’s not there and what’s happened and is he mad at him? When he goes out to the callejón for a 30 second break, Xabi hisses into his ear, “Get a grip, he’s here. Alright? He’s here.”
At first, Sergio doesn’t believe him, but when he glances up to Fernando’s usual seat and sees him there, a surge of relief rushes through him. He pulls an estocada within 15 seconds of being back in the ring.
Fernando’s surprised when he sees Sergio, Xabi, and Pepe there to actually check out a bull. He can’t remember the last time Sergio actually came for work.
He and Villa walk out from the barn out back, and Villa raises an eyebrow. Pepe’s talking loudly about the bull’s weight with José. Sergio smiles when he sees Fernando walking up. Fernando interrupts, wiping his hands on his jeans as he reaches them, “Which bull are we talking about?”
“Bailador,” Xabi fills him in, arms crossed as he listens.
“Uf, he’s a big one,” Fernando says, eyes on Sergio.
Sergio’s not even listening anymore, just smirking at Fernando. He’s busy making a face at him when Xabi slaps his chest, says, “Want to see him?”
He startles back into the conversation, nodding, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”
Fernando laughs. Xabi glares at him. Pepe walks up front with José as they continue discussing Bailador (“Is there any way he can be more than 704 kilos in the next week?”). Sergio nudges Fernando’s shoulder as they walk. He grins at him, and Villa, who’s on his other side, can only roll his eyes. “Get a room,” he mutters. Fernando laughs, brushes his fingers against Sergio’s.
They stay afterwards when Stevie shows up. “Hey, ready for that interview?”
Xabi nearly falls over his feet trying to reach him, and even Villa has his eyebrows raised. “What the fuck was that?” He jerks his thumb towards Xabi, and Pepe swats at him.
“Leave him alone,” Sergio says. “He has a crush.”
Stevie hears, of course, and tries not to redden. He sits them all down for the interview. “What’s your opinion on bullfighting?”
“You’re asking bullfighters this, you know,” Villa says, voice flat.
Stevie ignores him, and everyone goes around answering. Fernando and Villa stand in the back, just watching. Stevie asks, “What’s the worst thing about bullfighting, for you?”
Sergio thinks about it for a long moment. “My mom - she’s having a tough time with it. Hates it.”
Fernando nods, mumbles, “Mine did too.” Sergio turns around and looks at him.
Villa says, “Mine does too,” a pause. “Does this mean you’ll fuck me with your eyes now too?”
“So how do you feel about bullfighting?” Xabi asks, later that day.
Stevie shrugs, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He coughs. “Uh, I’m not too fond of it.”
Xabi’s amused. “Really? Why?”
“Killing a bull for entertainment?” Stevie scoffs. “It’s a sick way to bide your time. You should watch football instead.”
Xabi frowns, but he’s heard this argument a hundred times before. “It’s not for entertainment,” is all he can think of because he’s not quite sure what to say to Stevie, with his intense gaze focused on Xabi.
Stevie shakes his head, suppressing a fond smile. “Right, Xabi.” He glances at him. “It’s a shame you’re a bullfighter.”
“Well, I’m not a matador, but - ” He stops. “Wait, why’s it such a shame?”
“Because I like you,” Stevie smirks, and Xabi’s not sure if he means I like you or I like you or -
He reddens, mumbles a “thank you” before he goes off, in search of Sergio.
Rene, Sergio’s brother, pulls Xabi aside after their latest bullfight. He says, quietly into his ear, “What’s with the Torres kid always coming to the fights?”
Xabi shrugs. He doesn’t meet his eyes. “He’s Sergio’s friend.”
“Yeah,” Rene says, voice tight. “Sergio’s playing a risky game, and he needs to quit it.”
“What?” Xabi makes a face, increases the space in between them so he can get a good look at his face. Wants to see if he’s serious.
He is. “He needs a girlfriend.”
“You’re bullshitting me,” Xabi says, voice hard.
Rene shrugs. He doesn’t look happy about what he’s saying, at least there’s that, Xabi thinks. “Tell him to get a girlfriend, Xabi. Cayetano has one, and Sergio’s off frolicking about with the breeder’s son,” a pause. “He needs to get his head screwed on right.”
Xabi starts, “You can’t just - ”
“I’m his brother,” Rene interrupts, voice a bit strained. “You’re not. I know what’s best for him, alright?”
Xabi doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just goes back to the changing quarters where the rest of the guys are. He doesn’t meet Sergio’s eyes.
Sergio’s doing sit ups when Xabi walks into the weight room. He clears his throat. “We need to talk, Sergio.”
Sergio keeps up with his sit ups, just nodding at him, like, yeah, let’s talk. “What’s up?”
Xabi rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable. He clears his throat. “Well, uh, your brother thinks - he thinks that maybe you should, you know,” he makes an odd gesture with his hands, and Sergio thinks, no, I don’t know. He finishes in a flurry, “Get a girlfriend.”
Sergio stops, in the middle of his sit up. “What?” He asks weakly, sitting up completely.
“I don’t know, hombre,” Xabi sighs. “He thinks it’s better for your image if you have a girl.”
“But - ” Sergio wants to say, I have Fernando. But I have Fernando. He doesn’t. Says, “Guess he’s right.”
Sergio rushes over to Fernando’s. He’s in front of the house, just getting out of his own truck when Sergio gets there. He takes his hand and pulls him into the house. Fernando stumbles while they walk. He laughs, “What’s going on?”
Sergio doesn’t say anything, just pulls him into his bedroom and kisses him hard. “I need you,” he says, and Fernando shuts up. Just wraps his arms around him tightly. Sergio pulls back to breathe. His breathing is audible against Fernando’s face. He gives him a loaded look and has to look away, embarrassed at how he’s reacting to this. At having to stop this.
He works Fernando’s pants with one hand, the other on Fernando’s face and he’s kissing him again. “I need you to fuck me,” he whispers against his lips. Fernando pulls back, surprised. He looks at him seriously. Almost asks, really?, but doesn’t. He pushes him up against the wall, and Sergio braces himself up against the door. He wraps his legs around Fernando’s waist. Fernando asks, “The stuff?”
“Just-” Sergio starts, shifting. “Just fuck me, please. I want - I want to feel you.”
Fernando grows impossibly hard at that. Thinks he’s going to come right then and there. He spits into his hand, rubs his cock a few times before he thrusts in straight away. No preparing because he knows this is what Sergio needs, and it is. Sergio lets his head fall against Fernando’s shoulder, mutters obscenities under his breath. Fernando has never seen him like this. They fuck, right there against the door, and Fernando comes all the way into Sergio. Sergio slumps against him afterwards, pants into his ear. Wants to say, you’re amazing, but thinks that’s a bit too sentimental for his liking and chooses against it.
Sergio realizes he fell asleep when he wakes up, tangled in the sheets with Fernando beside him. He gets up and pulls on his briefs. He looks around for his pants, quietly, so Fernando won’t hear. Wonders if this is the best way to end it, by just leaving and not coming back. But Fernando wakes up in between the time Sergio pulls on his pants and starts looking for his shirt. “Where are you going?”
Sergio says, quickly, not turning around to look at him, “I’m getting a girlfriend.” He says it like how he’d talk about a pet, or maybe a kitchen appliance. Like, I’m getting a dog tomorrow. She’s going to be a cute dog. Tall and skinny and brunette and beautiful. When Fernando doesn’t say anything, Sergio continues, voice strained, “So we should stop this.”
Fernando stares at him. The way his shoulders are tensed. The way he’s folding his shirt over and over again, when he’s really supposed to be putting it on. Fernando gets up, wraps a blanket around his waist and walks over to him. He kisses the back of his neck, and Sergio lets out the breath he was holding in. He leans back against him a bit, and Fernando presses another kiss to his neck. Soft and tentative. He says, “Yeah, we should,” and Sergio nods. Maybe he was hoping for Fernando to put up a fight or something, to convince him to do what he wants, not what the world wants. He doesn’t, though, and Sergio leaves.
Cesc goes back to the Torres Ranch with Sergio. Sergio goes just to ‘hang out’. He helps around with Fernando, and Iker goes back into the house with Cesc and Villa to get some drinks. “So what’s all this about a girlfriend?”
Cesc shrugs. “His brother thinks it’s better for his image. Cayetano’s got one of the hottest girls in the country, and Sergio is still single.”
Iker opens his beer and puts it to his lips. “Fuck Cayetano.”
“You hate him too?” Cesc beams. “Nobody hates him. Except, like, us.”
Iker shrugs. Villa snorts. “Iker probably hates him more than you guys do.”
“Why?” Cesc asks, looking at him closely.
Iker shrugs again. “His, uh -” He clears his throat again. “His ‘hot’ girlfriend used to be mine.”
Cesc’s mouth drops open a little. Iker shrugs for the third time, uncomfortable to the max. “He used to come to check out the bulls too, and -”
“What?! No way! I thought we were the only ones that did that!” Cesc sputters into his beer.
Villa laughs, “Well, now you guys are. Because Cayetano stopped coming once we caught him with Eva.”
Iker scratches his neck. He takes a swig of his beer. He looks entirely too embarrassed. Cesc wants to hug him. He says, “If it helps, I think you’re 10 times better looking than he is.”
Iker looks up at him, a sheepish smile on his face. Villa kind of wants to throw up. “You can’t be serious,” he mutters under his breath, but no one pays any attention to him.
Iker says, kidding because he can’t think of what else to say, “I like to think so, too.”
Cesc smiles. “She was stupid,” he says lamely.
Villa watches them watch each other for a moment. He stands up, taking his beer. “You two make me sick.”
Stevie meets up with Xabi again at Sergio’s training center. “Is it true? What they’re making Sergio do?”
“What?” Xabi glances at him, his wariness evident.
Stevie shakes his head. “Xabi, I’m not daft. I know about Sergio and Fernando.”
Xabi makes a face. “There is no Sergio and Fernando, Stevie.”
Stevie raises an eyebrow. “Really,” he says flatly, and Xabi sighs.
“You’re not going to tell the press, are you?”
Stevie snorts at that. “I am the press,” he starts. “But no, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thanks,” Xabi says weakly.
“So it’s true,” Stevie says slowly. “You guys are forcing Sergio to pretend he’s straight. For his image.”
He sounds agitated, annoyed. Maybe even offended. Xabi shrugs. He looks away. “I don’t want him to, his brother does.”
“How does that make it any better?”
“Fuck, Stevie,” Xabi says, exasperated. “I know it sucks, okay? But this isn’t something only bullfighters do. Footballers, politicians, movie stars - they all do it.”
Stevie frowns. “That doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong.”
Cesc wanders around the ranch until he finds Iker, alone, in one of the fields. Iker glances over at him, “Hi?”
And Cesc smiles. “Hey.”
Iker isn’t sure how Cesc managed to get into his pants, that first time, way out in the fields of the Torres Ranch - but somehow he does, and somehow he makes it so that Iker doesn’t want to ever stop.
Xabi goes over to Fernando’s in search of Stevie, who happens to be there quite a bit sometimes. “Stevie!” He calls out to where he’s sitting next to Fernando.
Stevie smiles instantly, like their last encounter didn’t even happen. “I knew you’d come find me,” he says as Fernando goes off somewhere.
“Actually, I came for a bull,” Xabi starts, ready with a lie. Stevie raises an eyebrow, like, I don’t believe you, and Xabi laughs. “Okay, I came to talk to you.”
“Yeah? What about?”
Xabi scratches his back. “Listen, Stevie - if it were up to me, I’d let Sergio be with whoever he wants. Alright? He’s one of my best friends, you know.”
Stevie smiles softly at him. His gaze is fond. “You came all the way here to tell me that? Did you think my opinion of you had changed?”
“Yes,” Xabi frowns, confused.
Stevie shrugs, doesn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “I have to lie at work about my preference.”
“Your preference?”
“Between men or women,” he says quietly, eyes downcast. He rambles, “And I was just saying - it sucks. A lot. And it sucks that Sergio has to lie about it now. And that Fernando has to get the stick of it too.”
Xabi doesn’t want to think about the other day - when Stevie said he liked him, because thinking about it will lead to dwelling over it and that will only lead to Xabi being an idiot and. Xabi touches his arm. “Yeah, it does.” After a while, he says, “You should come to a bullfight, once. For work, you know.”
Fernando continues going to Sergio’s fights. He takes Stevie with him to one, because he claims he wants to see a few to have a better insight for his article. It’s really because of Xabi. Fernando doesn’t blame him, because Xabi’s pretty fit. It’s just kind of odd because Xabi loves bullfighting and Stevie’s steadfast against it.
Xabi smiles widely when he sees Stevie afterwards, walking in behind Fernando. “You came!”
Stevie nods, smiling. “Yeah, I did. You looked good out there.”
Sergio, who’s standing behind Xabi, smirks at that. He’s getting out of his suit and Fernando goes over to him. He says something under his breath about Stevie and they both laugh. Stevie reddens, focuses on Xabi. Xabi says, “You should come out for drinks with us!”
Fernando’s helping Sergio take off his suit, and his hand brushes against his chest. They haven’t fucked in 3 weeks. Sergio has some new girlfriend that Fernando doesn’t care to know the name of. He hands him a t-shirt to put on. Sergio’s staring at him. “I, uh,” he looks past him at Xabi, makes sure he isn’t paying attention before he continues. “I need to use the restroom. Do you?”
Fernando grins slowly and follows him. Xabi doesn’t even notice they’ve left. Sergio locks the bathroom door to make sure no one can come in. He leans in and kisses Fernando hard, like if he doesn’t, he won’t be able to breathe. He mutters, “I’ve missed the shit out of you,” before he realizes what he’s said. “I mean, this. I’ve missed this.”
Fernando only shakes his head and kisses him again. Sergio hoists himself up onto the counter. He spreads his legs out wide so Fernando can settle in between. He kisses his ear. Fernando unbuckles his own jeans while Sergio works at his. He uses his spit to prepare Sergio. He’s in all the way until his knuckles when Sergio mutters, “Just fuck me already,” and Fernando can only comply. He pushes in slowly this time, presses kisses to his skin as he does. Sergio mutters words against Fernando’s skin, things that he would never say out loud. Fernando can’t make out the words, doesn’t pay attention to them. Sergio mumbles his name when he comes.
Sergio gets up even earlier these days. Sometimes he sits in his bedroom and stares out at the sun. Other times, he goes for his walks. When he reaches the Rio, he stands there. Thinks about maybe bringing Fernando here once. He thinks he’d like it here, maybe.
Some nights, when he actually has dinner with his family, his brother asks about his day.
Sergio has to bite his tongue to not mention the Torres Ranch or how he’s there all the time or how he goes there for one reason and the reason isn’t a bull. Rene watches him closely, when Sergio takes his time in answering, when he acts like he really has to think about his words. Sergio’s mother never asks. She likes to pretend he’s not a bullfighter - and by pretending he’s not, she pretends he’s not there. Doesn’t exist. He tells her he loves her, every time, and she just nods.
“I like you,” Cesc says to Iker one afternoon, when they’re in the barn.
“What?” Iker glances up, surprise written all over his face.
“Why are you so shocked?” He laughs, his fingers playing idly on Iker’s arm.
Iker shrugs, has to think about it for a moment. “Because Fernando told Sergio he liked him and Sergio freaked the fuck out.”
Cesc throws his head back at that, laughs so loudly Iker’s scared Fernando (or, God forbid, Villa) will hear. “I’m not Sergio.” A pause, “He’s a wimp when it comes to feelings.”
Iker smirks at that. “And you?”
Cesc hums, leaning in close to say against his lips, “I know what I want.”
“And what do you want?” Iker asks slowly, eyes not leaving his.
“You.”
Sergio comes over around 11 pm one night, much later than the usual 7 that Fernando’s used to. He lets himself into Fernando’s room and gets into bed with him.
Fernando stirs awake, his forehead wrinkles. He mumbles, “What’re you doing here so late?”
“Why are you in bed so early, is the real question,” Sergio whispers, a smile in his voice.
Fernando rubs a hand over his face. He’s tired. He can’t help being tired. He works from 6 am every day. “What took you so long?”
Sergio shrugs, doesn’t meet his eyes. “I was with Lara.”
“Oh,” is all Fernando says. He pulls Sergio to him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him, soft and tender.
Sergio hums against his lips, moves to straddle his hips. Fernando tries to push away the rush of jealousy in his chest. Tries not to think about Sergio with whatsherface. He blocks out images of Sergio with anyone else but him, presses his hands against Sergio’s skin. Sergio studies him for a moment before he swoops down and kisses him again. He fucks him that night, and doesn’t think of Lara at all. Doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt in his actions.
Fernando walks in on Iker and Cesc having sex one afternoon. He stumbles over his words, “Oh - fuck - I’m sorry - I - uh - I’m just going to - I’m going to leave - uh - okay - bye.”
He runs to Villa. Tells him everything. Villa can’t contain his laughter. “Are you serious? I have to see this for myself,” and starts towards the barn. Fernando tries to hold him back, but Villa is adamant. Sadly, by the time he makes it to the barn, Iker is coming out of it with his pants on. He looks flustered, walks past Villa and straight to Fernando. “I’m sorry about that, I, uh,” he stops and clears his throat.
“It’s okay,” Fernando says slowly, looking past him to where Cesc is coming out of the barn, red faced.
“I hope you’re both embarrassed,” Villa laughs and Iker glares at him. “This is almost as good as a walk of shame.”
“This is a walk of shame,” Iker mutters.
Cesc speaks up, “I’m, uh, going to go.”
Iker moves to him automatically. He rubs the back of Cesc’s head and leans in before he realizes where he is. He straightens up and nods. “Uh, yeah,” and moves away. Cesc squeezes his hand as he walks past.
It’s all over Hola magazine. Sergio and Lara. Fernando doesn’t know how to handle it the first time he sees it, just stares and stares until Villa snaps his fingers in his face. Fernando glances at him, “Huh?” Before he focuses back on the magazine cover. His eyebrows furrow and he turns the pages until he reaches the headline story. He scans the story, reads bits and pieces: Sergio and Lara have been dating for the past month, and close sources say that Lara is smitten, and Sergio, himself, was overheard the other day saying that he’s in love with her - Fernando stops. He rereads the sentence. It feels like something in the pit of his stomach is moving its way up his esophagus.
Villa (who must’ve been reading over his shoulder) says, “I’m sure it’s just a publicity thing, Fer,” in a tone so comforting that it makes Fernando want to bang his head against a wall.
“Right,” Fernando says, not quite believing it himself.
The next time Sergio stops by, it’s for business. “I want to fight Jocinero.”
Fernando crosses his arms. And then he recrosses them. “He’s huge, Sergio. Like, 704 kilos huge.”
“Yeah, exactly why I want to fight him, Fer.”
José starts, “Okay, let’s show you him,” when Fernando interrupts him.
“We’re not showing him Jocinero. He’s fucking huge,” he’s talking to his dad but he’s looking at Sergio. His voice loses it’s sharpness, but not his resolution when he says, “You’re not fighting him, Sergio.”
Sergio moves to him - gets in his face and he’s clearly annoyed. Xabi and Pepe can only watch, interested only in how this will end. José shakes his head, embarrassed or something of the sort. Villa chews on a piece of hay, eyes slightly wide. Sergio says, voice hard, “I’m a bullfighter, Fernando.”
Fernando levels him with a calm stare. “He’s my bull.”
Sergio jabs his finger to his chest. “I’m going to fucking fight him, Fernando. This is my job.”
“He’s the second biggest bull this country has seen, Sergio. Don’t be an idiot.”
Sergio spits out, “You can’t tell me which bulls I can or can’t fight.” A pause, and then, “You’re not my boyfriend, you’re my breeder.”
Fernando’s jaw clenches. (Xabi winces, has to look away. Villa throws down his piece of hay, cracks his knuckles, because he’s ready to beat the shit out of Sergio Ramos. Pepe only rubs his neck and watches on.) He unclenches it. “Fine,” he shrugs and steps back, making space between them.
Sergio nods. “Good.”
“That was stupid,” Iker says, when Villa’s done retelling what happened to Iker.
“I know,” Villa says. “But Sergio was a huge asshole.”
Iker turns to Fernando. He pats his face. “Don’t take it personally. You shouldn’t have said anything. He’s a professional for a reason, Fer. He can handle Jocinero.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Fernando mutters. He takes a swig of his beer. Glares at the wall.
Sergio ends up getting hit right through his side. It’s just a scratch, but it’s big enough for Sergio to nearly bleed to death. Fernando can’t sit still while he waits in the hospital wing of the bullring. He glances at the clock every few minutes. He forgets that he was even mad at him in the first place. Cesc pats his knee, says, “He’ll be fine.”
Xabi paces the hall. He’s almost as bad as Fernando until Stevie shows up, and Xabi seems to calm down after that. Fernando, though, he’s a wreck. Xabi says to him, “I told Lara she’s not authorized to come back here,” and Fernando can only shake his head, grateful.
The surgeon comes out a little bit later. He tells them that he only needed a few stitches, that it’s really not as bad as the blood in the ring makes it out to be.
Stevie puts an arm around Xabi’s shoulder, mostly to make sure he doesn’t get up so Fernando can see Sergio first. Xabi laughs a little and jabs his stomach, only protests weakly, “He was my friend first,” before Fernando’s heading down to Sergio’s room.
When he opens the door, Sergio’s grimacing while he tries to sit up. He deflates when he sees Fernando, like he didn’t want him to see him like this. He hates how Fernando makes his chest feel. Doesn’t quite understand it, if he’s honest. “I know what you’re going to say.”
Fernando closes the door behind him. He walks to him slowly, and when he reaches him, pushes a hand into his hair. “You’re an idiot,” he says before he leans down and kisses him.
Sergio grips his arm. “I know,” and he wants to say, but only for you. I’m an idiot for you. Fernando kisses his shoulder. He helps him put on a shirt. Sergio says, “Stop being so nice to me, Fer.” It’s in between a command and a plead.
Fernando shrugs, “I can’t help it.” I love you, he doesn’t say.
Lara’s in the hallway, waiting with the others, when Sergio comes out. She seems to be near tears when she sees him, runs to him and wraps her arms around him. It’s like a scene from a movie. Sergio wraps his arms around her.
Sergio comes over a few days later. Technically, he’s supposed to be resting because of his wound, but he thinks being with Fernando is calming, so. He helps Fernando feed a few of the bulls. He helps him clean the barn. He helps him stack the hay. They don’t talk about the Jocinero argument. They sit in the grass towards the end of the day, when the sun is setting, and Fernando says something that makes Sergio laugh. He rolls in the grass, laughing, when suddenly Fernando says, voice sharp, “Sergio, you’re bleeding.”
Sergio looks down. “Oh, no it’s just my bandages. I need to change them.” He stands up, pulls Fernando up with him and they head to the bathroom.
Sergio sits on the bathroom countertop and Fernando helps him take off his shirt. He throws out his old bandages. He takes a towel, wipes down where Sergio’s stitches used to be. His finger drifts over it. He presses a kiss to the top of it, and Sergio moves his arm back so Fernando has more room. He sucks up his torso until he latches onto his neck. Sergio doesn’t even care that he’ll probably going to leave a mark, just leans more and more into his touch. When Sergio’s neck is nice and bruised, Fernando pulls back. He finishes bandaging him and pats his side to say he’s done.
Sergio and Xabi go to watch Barbudo once Sergio’s healed. “You think he’s big enough yet?”
Xabi glances at him. “Not yet. Maybe in a few weeks.”
“Hmm,” Sergio murmurs, looking out at the bull. “He looks pretty big.”
“He’s only 703 right now. We need him to be bigger than Cayetano’s.”
Sergio gets quiet for a bit. “Fernando will probably be pissed,” he says at last.
“Yeah,” Xabi says quietly. He turns and leans his side against the fence. “You care an awful lot about someone you claim to care nothing about, you know.”
Sergio’s head snaps up. “What? I - I don’t - I just.” He doesn’t finish his sentence. He looks off at Barbudo, ramming his head against a wall. “I don’t know what’s happened to me, Xabi.”
Xabi laughs at that, has nothing to say in reply.
“Why do you hate bullfighting?” Sergio asks, maybe for the millionth time. Sergio’s helping Fernando clean out the stalls, and Fernando stops, glances at him.
“How many times are you going to ask that question before it registers in your head?” He laughs.
Sergio shrugs. “I know you’re keeping something out,” he looks at him.
Fernando shrugs. He keeps his eyes on the ground.
Sergio walks over to him and touches his arm. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know,” Fernando shrugs. “You ever notice that my mom’s not around?”
Sergio’s eyes widen at that. It hadn’t occurred to him. “I,” he starts and stops. Lets Fernando continue.
“She left - a long time ago. Back when my dad was still fighting,” he shrugs. Tries to act like it doesn’t hurt anymore, but it does. “She couldn’t handle the - the -” He waves his hand around, looking for a word that fits. When he doesn’t find it, he says, “You know. The stress. All that bullshit. So she left.”
Sergio touches his arm quickly. “My mom hates me,” he admits, voice soft.
“What?” Fernando glances at him quickly. He shifts closer, their arms are grazing each other.
“For picking bullfighting - she hates me,” he stares at the wall. “She doesn’t care that I’m happy. She just hates how she’s not.”
Fernando kisses him then.
“You’re kidding me,” is what Fernando says (flatly) when he sees Iker discussing Barbudo with Sergio and the guys.
Sergio eyes him wearily. He just shrugs. Cesc speaks up, “We’ve got to come back big, Fer.”
“Aren’t you supposed to start out small? Work your way up?” Villa asks, when Fernando basically refuses to speak. He’s watching Sergio, glaring a little, but not quite.
Cesc shrugs. “We’ve been working our way up the past few years. We can’t let an injury hold us back.”
Xabi nods. “You guys don’t understand. We can’t just start over because one time he got hurt.”
“But Barbudo is even crazier than Jocinero, and he’ll have even more kilos on him by the time you guys fight him,” Iker says, slowly, eyes on Cesc like suddenly he’s a bit worried as well. Like he understands Fernando completely. Like he can’t fathom the thought of Cesc in a bullring ever again. “Are you sure you can do it?”
It’s directed at Cesc and Cesc’s eyes are soft. He breathes a laugh, touches his arm. “You guys need to quit worrying.”
Fernando continues to glare at Sergio. Sergio looks away. He moves a bit so Pepe is covering half of him. Fernando says, “That’s easier said than done.”
Xabi puts an arm around Fernando and steers him back towards the house. “I know, but we’re going to fight Barbudo anyway,” he says. “So you all might as well accept it.”
“Don’t be mad,” Sergio says as he closes Fernando’s bedroom door behind him. Fernando’s sitting on his bed, like he’s been waiting for him.
“I’m not,” Fernando says carefully.
“You act like you are,” Sergio starts and stops. Has to remind himself that he’s supposed to pretend he doesn’t care.
“I’m not,” Fernando says again, a bit more persistently. Sergio walks to the bed and sits down. One minute he’s at the opposite end and the next he’s straddling Fernando’s hips, in his lap. He kisses his jaw.
“Good,” he says in between kisses.
“Would you care? If I was mad?” Fernando asks after a few moments and Sergio stills, lips stuck to Fernando’s skin. He pulls back and looks at him.
“I, uh,” he clears his throat. He rests his forehead against his shoulder. He breathes out, “I hate you sometimes.”
“What?” Fernando breathes a laugh. He wraps his arm around his waist. “You don’t.”
“You’re right, I don’t. Not at all,” Sergio mutters against his skin. “And I hate you for that.”
Sergio tells Lara he’s fighting Barbudo and almost immediately, she’s in hysterics. “Please, don’t, Sergio. Please!”
Sergio almost laughs at her theatrics. He doesn’t see much emotion behind her eyes, like it’s all an act. And it probably is, because that’s what they’re doing, right? Acting.
He tries to explain that to her, when he does break out laughing. She’s furious, “What?! You think I’m pretending?! You think I don’t care?! Maybe you just don’t appreciate me enough!”
He tells her that maybe - maybe - she needs to get out, then.
“So you’re fighting the big one, eh?” Stevie asks quietly.
“Yeah,” Xabi shrugs, as if it’s nothing at all. Not some huge feat that’s never been done before. No sir.
“Be careful, yeah?”
Xabi glances at him. Stevie’s fidgeting with his shirt. “I’ll try my best.”
Stevie quirks a smile at that. He looks at him. Almost says, I like you a lot. Almost says, I want to kiss you. Almost says, I just want you to like me back. Instead, he says, “My article - it’s not so negative anymore, you know.”
“That’s good,” Xabi smiles.
Sergio fights Barbudo at 714 kilos. The biggest toro ever. Fernando doesn’t breathe right until Sergio pushes his espada in between Barbudo’s shoulderblades.
Somehow through the fight, Xabi gets hurt. It’s nothing serious. He’s waving the magenta and yellow cape to make it charge, and he’s not quick enough to jump out of the way when it does. It’s juvenile, an amateur could do better, Xabi will later say. Cesc is out there quickly. He distracts the bull enough that he doesn’t ram into Xabi. He’s lucky. Stevie puts his hands on his head in the stands, grits his teeth until Xabi’s safely in the callejón.
“I fucking hate bullfighitng,” he mutters and Fernando laughs. Me too, he thinks.
Sergio finishes the fight with glamour. He’s awarded both the ears, the tail, and the hoof. It’s a huge feat, and Fernando thinks even Cayetano is applauding him.
Cesc nearly topples Iker when he comes to the dressing quarters in the back. “Did you see us? Did you see that?”
Iker laughs, wraps his arms around his waist. “I saw.”
“How was I? Was I good?” He’s grinning, like he knows he was good, and just wants to hear Iker say it.
“You were sexy,” Iker whispers into his ear. Sergio hears him and laughs, says something about how he’s lucky Villa isn’t there to make fun of him. Iker doesn’t even care. “I can’t wait for tonight.”
Cesc laughs quietly. “Don’t you have to get up early in the morning?”
“I’ll quit,” Iker says, not serious, and Fernando flicks his head.
They don’t see Stevie until they get back to the Torres Ranch. He seems agitated, face a bit red by the time Xabi reaches him. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Stevie pulls him aside - away from where Sergio’s eyeing him.
Sergio watches Stevie and Xabi argue. Stevie points at Xabi’s wound, and his voice is booming. The only reason Sergio can’t make out what he’s saying is because he’s speaking in English. Xabi pushes Stevie, and Stevie pushes him right back. He wags his finger in Xabi’s face and Sergio laughs at that, like what could Stevie possibly be saying when - when Stevie pulls Xabi to him and kisses him. Xabi looks surprised. He pulls back for a second, eyes wide, and says something that makes Stevie laugh.
Stevie kisses him again.
“Lara and I broke up,” Sergio says, a can of soda in his hand.
Fernando raises an eyebrow. “I thought - weren’t you in love with her?”
“What?” Sergio laughs. He turns his head to glance at him, a look of bewilderment on his face.
“I mean, I read that you said you were in love with her,” he pauses. “Or something.”
“You were reading about me?” Sergio asks, amused.
“Fuck off,” Fernando smirks. He throws his empty can at him. Sergio dodges.
“What’d they say I said?”
“Something about you saying that you’re in love with her.” Fernando stares off into the distance. He doesn’t look at Sergio.
Sergio says slowly, “No. They misquoted it.” His voice is soft. “I said I was in love,” (Fernando glances at him then), “But I never said it was with her.”
Fernando’s mouth opens a little. “Are you serious?”
Sergio swallows. He nods. “Please don’t make me say it out loud, it’s hard enough as it is.”
Fernando laughs at that. He presses up to Sergio’s side, presses a kiss to his cheek. Says against it, “You’re an idiot,” he can feel Sergio smile against his lips. “But I love you too.”