Fiction: RPS - Baby, it's cold outside (Pique/Fabregas)
title: Baby, it's cold outside
word count: 579
rating: PG
warning(s): slash (if you squint and tilt your head)
characters: Gerard Pique, Francesc Fabregas, mentions of Carla and Carles Puyol
author's note: This served a dual purpose - songfic challenge at footballverse and a filled prompt for angelicmercy. I didn't mean for it to be both but I ended up submitting it for the challenge after I wrote it... Welp. I hope you enjoy and happy holidays, dear!
prompt: Geri and Cesc have to drive to Gerard's family in the mountains for Christmas dinner and get stuck in the snow. They have to keep warm and somehow celebrate the Christmas in the car because the help is coming in the morning.
- - -
“Cesc, will you stop fidgeting.” It wasn’t a question so much as a demand. He wouldn’t stop moving. The Arsenal boy shot a look at him and continued to let his leg bounce up and down. “I swear, punk…”
“What you gonna do?”
Gerard couldn’t help but laugh at the futile attempt to sound nonchalant and tough. He really had lost that natural Catalan swagger.
“What is wrong with you, you large lump?” Without breaking his glare, Cesc readjusted his scarf and settled back into the seat. Come to think of it, the seat wasn’t even comfortable, no matter how many blankets they added for cushion. They had been stuck in this car for possibly three hours without another car passing by or the snow letting up enough so they could see if anyone was around.
“You. You’re too… I dunno.” Silence let itself rest where the sound of laughs had been. Cesc set his head against the window and closed his eyes. The wind pushed the car in a kind of rocking motion and somehow, even at his age, he equated that with ‘sleep, sleep’.
"Yes, hello, me and my friend need help... Where are we? Stuck in the mountains. Hehe, yeah, it sucks."
“Cesc.” A push. ‘Five more minutes.’ “Cesc, c’mon, wake up.” Gerard pulled him off of the window and along with the blanket that he must have put on him in his sleep. “Wake up or else I’ll throw your present out the window.”
“You wouldn’t roll the window down in this weather.” Cesc smiled as he heard his friend laugh.
“Why the hell not?”
“'Baby, it’s cold outside'," he tried in his best female singing voice. The rustling of paper had him open his eyes and look over in relative darkness at the driver’s seat. “What’s that?”
Gerard smiled and looked down at the crudely wrapped item in his hands. “It’s a gift. Well, it’s your gift. From me. Puyol said he sent his to London but I wanted to give it to you in person.” Smiling somewhat awkwardly, he pushed it towards his friend. Cesc took it up, shook it -as he had always done - and cautiously began to pull the corners away. “Well, c’mon, it’s Christmas morning, have some excitement!”
“Alright, alright. Usually the one giving the gift isn’t so pushy.” Gerard waved off the comment and he continued to pull the paper away. Lying in the pile was a deep red and blue scarf, with, highlighted in gold, ‘Força Barça’. He was silent as he stared at his gift.
“Um… Cesc?” He looked up. “The gift… Do you like it?”
Cesc looked back down quickly and nodded, smiling, almost laughing. How could he not? It was a Barcelona scarf. He pulled off the plain black one he had and began to wind the new one on.
“Wait! Look at the end.” Gerard pulled one end away from him so he could see the embroidery: ‘C. Fabregas - #4’.
“Gerard.”
He looked a little worried but he was now all smiles. “Merry Christmas.”
Folding the scarf around his neck, Cesc leaned over and pulled him into a hug. It had been too long since they had been together, since they last hugged, they last shared a special moment like this. He kissed him on the cheek, it was soft and warm and drawn-out, and was reminded by the stubble that this wasn't Carla's cheek, it was his best friend's. “Merry Christmas, Geri.”
word count: 579
rating: PG
warning(s): slash (if you squint and tilt your head)
characters: Gerard Pique, Francesc Fabregas, mentions of Carla and Carles Puyol
author's note: This served a dual purpose - songfic challenge at footballverse and a filled prompt for angelicmercy. I didn't mean for it to be both but I ended up submitting it for the challenge after I wrote it... Welp. I hope you enjoy and happy holidays, dear!
prompt: Geri and Cesc have to drive to Gerard's family in the mountains for Christmas dinner and get stuck in the snow. They have to keep warm and somehow celebrate the Christmas in the car because the help is coming in the morning.
- - -
“Cesc, will you stop fidgeting.” It wasn’t a question so much as a demand. He wouldn’t stop moving. The Arsenal boy shot a look at him and continued to let his leg bounce up and down. “I swear, punk…”
“What you gonna do?”
Gerard couldn’t help but laugh at the futile attempt to sound nonchalant and tough. He really had lost that natural Catalan swagger.
“What is wrong with you, you large lump?” Without breaking his glare, Cesc readjusted his scarf and settled back into the seat. Come to think of it, the seat wasn’t even comfortable, no matter how many blankets they added for cushion. They had been stuck in this car for possibly three hours without another car passing by or the snow letting up enough so they could see if anyone was around.
“You. You’re too… I dunno.” Silence let itself rest where the sound of laughs had been. Cesc set his head against the window and closed his eyes. The wind pushed the car in a kind of rocking motion and somehow, even at his age, he equated that with ‘sleep, sleep’.
"Yes, hello, me and my friend need help... Where are we? Stuck in the mountains. Hehe, yeah, it sucks."
“Cesc.” A push. ‘Five more minutes.’ “Cesc, c’mon, wake up.” Gerard pulled him off of the window and along with the blanket that he must have put on him in his sleep. “Wake up or else I’ll throw your present out the window.”
“You wouldn’t roll the window down in this weather.” Cesc smiled as he heard his friend laugh.
“Why the hell not?”
“'Baby, it’s cold outside'," he tried in his best female singing voice. The rustling of paper had him open his eyes and look over in relative darkness at the driver’s seat. “What’s that?”
Gerard smiled and looked down at the crudely wrapped item in his hands. “It’s a gift. Well, it’s your gift. From me. Puyol said he sent his to London but I wanted to give it to you in person.” Smiling somewhat awkwardly, he pushed it towards his friend. Cesc took it up, shook it -as he had always done - and cautiously began to pull the corners away. “Well, c’mon, it’s Christmas morning, have some excitement!”
“Alright, alright. Usually the one giving the gift isn’t so pushy.” Gerard waved off the comment and he continued to pull the paper away. Lying in the pile was a deep red and blue scarf, with, highlighted in gold, ‘Força Barça’. He was silent as he stared at his gift.
“Um… Cesc?” He looked up. “The gift… Do you like it?”
Cesc looked back down quickly and nodded, smiling, almost laughing. How could he not? It was a Barcelona scarf. He pulled off the plain black one he had and began to wind the new one on.
“Wait! Look at the end.” Gerard pulled one end away from him so he could see the embroidery: ‘C. Fabregas - #4’.
“Gerard.”
He looked a little worried but he was now all smiles. “Merry Christmas.”
Folding the scarf around his neck, Cesc leaned over and pulled him into a hug. It had been too long since they had been together, since they last hugged, they last shared a special moment like this. He kissed him on the cheek, it was soft and warm and drawn-out, and was reminded by the stubble that this wasn't Carla's cheek, it was his best friend's. “Merry Christmas, Geri.”