Not Alone - AU
Title: Not Alone - 2/6
Author: littlesumo scribblscrabbl delicatale
Rating: PG (this chapter)
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger
Disclaimer: This is fiction
Summary: Of all the things Fernando wanted to do, of all the things he wanted to see, of all the places he wanted to go to, he never thought giving up football, going back to Spain and moving to Seville would be any of them.
It's been a week since Fernando left the tattoo shop (and Dan) in a huff, not knowing where or on whom to vent his anger. After three days he thinks it might have been a little bit his fault too, the two of them hitting it off badly, but then he remembers Dan's pretentiousness and he forgets about his insight.
After five days he catches himself looking through a tattoo magazine he finds at a kiosk, and he buys it, but forgets about it when he gets home to a message from his mother, complaining about his lack of calls, and spends the next four hours on the phone with her.
So it's been a week since he left the shop, and here he is, standing it front of it again, looking at the dark-blue sign and going in before his courage leaves him.
He thinks the front of the shop is empty at first but then someone calls out to him.
"Fernando?"
He stiffens (why is it that he always meets fans when he’s around Daniel?) but the second he turns to the voice, he realises he recognises it, and the face.
"Nicklas." He's honestly surprised, so much so, that the fact that someone from his past is suddenly standing in front of him doesn't register in the painful way it normally would. "What are you doing here?"
"Visiting my Danny boy."
"You know Dan?"
"Sure I do!"
Speaking of the devil, Fernando sees Dan emerging from the back, probably alerted by the stupid chime and their voices, and he sees too, Dan's small gesture that makes Nicklas fall silent and clear his throat before asking, "So, how are you doing? I haven’t seen you since-"
"Yeah, don't mention it, all right?"
"Of course, yea."
Fernando feels uneasy now, and he only wants to leave. Speaking English again, for Nicklas' sake, feels foreign, like his tongue cannot quite remember how to wrap around the words comfortably.
"Well, since you have a visitor, I'll come back later." He only glances at Dan for a second before looking away again. "See you around."
"Wait, Fernando, do you want to grab a beer later or something?"
Fernando is really sure he doesn't want to, but he also doesn't want to be impolite and he guesses Nicklas would understand that he won't want to talk about his past.
"I guess. Where are you staying? I could come back here at 8?"
"It’s a deal then. See you later!"
He leaves with Nicklas' beaming face behind him, and Dan's frowning one.
*
"What the Hell did you do that for?"
Dan's not amused. He's not amused that Nicklas showed up basically without any warning, making a home on Dan's sofa. He's not amused that he's been there for days now, hanging around doing nothing. And now Dan is really not amused that Nicklas just invited Fernando to join them tonight for drinks.
He hasn't seen Fernando in days, was starting to think that Fernando wouldn't come back. Now, not only did Nicklas invite him for their night out, but Dan’s also left wondering what Fernando was doing here.
Nicklas shrugs at Dan, oblivious as ever. For all his loyalty and friendliness, for all his good looks and strength on the pitch, Nicklas Bendtner is not the brightest crayon in the box. Anyone else would have felt the tension as soon as Dan and Fernando looked at each other.
"What? I didn't know you know Torres!"
"I don't know him, Nick. He came over once for a tat and it didn't work out. We got into a fight, to be honest."
"A fight?"
Nicklas sits in the tattoo chair, looking at Dan with confused eyes. Dan sighs, knowing his friend is unfortunately not going to let it go until it's all explained clearly for him.
"He wanted me to work on a tattoo he already has and I didn't want to. Look, Nick, it doesn't matter. What matters, though, is that you shut up about my past tonight, okay? Don't tell him I used to play."
"You want me to lie, but you won't tell me why? Tsk, tsk, Dan, you should know me better."
Dan sighs. "That's really the whole story between us, isn’t it."
"Tell me your part then. Why you're so adamant about him not finding out."
"Who I was before isn’t important. He... he really is not in the best of places right now, anyone can see that, he doesn't need any reminders of what used to be, doesn't need to know about me." Dan wants to slap himself for using the reason they had the fight about, to explain himself (make excuses) to Nick.
"Well, knowing he's not alone with this could help him, couldn't it? And if it's of no importance, I can tell him."
"Nicklas Bendtner, don't you dare!"
Nick ponders him from his perch for a moment.
"You fancy him, don't you?"
"What?! Don't be stupid!"
Nicklas is grinning from ear to ear and Dan is a little afraid.
"Oh, but you do."
Moments like this always make Dan feel like he’s bickering with a five-year-old. An overgrown five-year-old with an obscenely devious streak.
“Nick, I know you’re always horny, but doesn’t mean everyone else is.”
Nicklas pouts a little but it’s been years since that’s worked on Dan.
“When was the last time you got laid, huh? Out with it.”
“Fuck off. I’m not discussing my sex life with you.” Dan retrieves his latest sketch and hunches over it in concentration, hoping that maybe, just maybe this time, Nick would get the hint and change the topic of conversation, or leave. Dan knows which one he prefers.
“You know that’s just another way of saying ‘it’s been a pathetically long time,’ right?” Dan doesn’t have to look up to know that Nick looks downright smug; he can hear it dripping off the syllables.
“Have you come all the way to Sevilla just to make fun of me? Go out and enjoy the sun, get a tan. You’re so pale it’s embarrassing me.”
Nicklas doesn’t respond and the silence becomes so drawn out that Dan looks up, thinking for a moment that he’s somehow offended Nick, if that’s even possible. He doesn’t think he’s ever known anyone as laid-back and absolutely shameless as Nicklas Bendtner.
Dan blinks because Nick is just staring at him with a slight crease between his eyebrows, like Dan’s a puzzle he’s trying to figure out, a Rubik’s Cube with all the parts but no solution in sight. He wants to tell Nick to give it up, that even he doesn’t know how to align his pieces, let alone give someone else instructions. But he keeps his mouth shut because he doesn’t want to admit it, not even to Nick.
“So what, it was mutual hate at first sight? You and Torres?”
Dan sighs deeply and drags a hand across his face, remembering just how reckless Nick’s curiosity is (like a truck barrelling down the freeway without brakes).
“No, I don’t hate him,” and he leaves it at that because he doesn’t know how else he feels about the striker. Honestly, he was hoping they’d never see each other again.
“You guys have at least one thing in common,” Nicklas points out and it’s all Dan can do not to slam his hand down on the counter and bite Nick’s head off.
“It’s not the same. Not even fucking close.”
"Okay, if you say so. Why is it different?"
Dan can’t lie; he really loves Nicklas for all his flaws and his obnoxiousness, for all that drives Dan crazy. Nicklas is still his best friend and Dan can't quite stay mad at him for more than five minutes, even when he wants to.
And Dan doesn't really want to stay mad, anyway. In the end Nick is leaving soon and maybe it's a good thing for Dan to be able to let some feelings out. Nicklas always puts things into perspective, for some unknown reason to Dan.
"Because- because I chose to stop. He got injured. He wouldn't get it. I wouldn't expect him to get it."
"Wow, way to give a man some credit, Dan. Why are you so intent on not liking him? He's a good guy. He can even be fun."
"How would you know? And I'm not intent on anything."
Nicklas sighs, spreading his fingers over the tabletop, making Dan look down at them. There's something always a bit unsettling about Nicklas being all reason and calm. It puts Dan on edge, too close for comfort, letting his own issues surface. When Nick is loud and brash, Dan can hide in the shadows.
"I know you, Agger. Your first impressions of people are usually what you stick to, even if you're completely off. And I know because we shared a hotel with the Spanish NT once and we had drinks with them. Fernando is cool. Maybe tonight you could make an effort and not bite anyone's head off, and rework that first impression."
"If I stick to my first impressions, why are we friends then?"
"Ah, because you loved me from the second you met me." Nick winks and Dan thinks their bickering really has to stop now and he wonders if he promises to be good, Nicklas will leave him alone. Although he's still a bit miffed that he invited Fernando along. He would suggest that Nick meet Fernando alone, that he still has things to do, if he didn't know how that would end.
"Yeah, so much so, I wonder why we aren't married." Dan rolls his eyes. "If you promise to keep your mouth shut, I will promise the same. I probably won't have much to say anyway. And since you invited him to our night out," he cannot resist the slight jab, "you can entertain him."
"Perfect."
*
It's one minute to eight and Fernando is annoyingly on time. Dan is just locking the shop, Nicklas bouncing on the balls of his feet beside him.
"So, where are you taking me?"
Nick actually claps his hands and Dan wonders when his friend reverted to a five year old who’s been promised anything at the toy shop.
"The Taifa?" Dan chances a look at Fernando, who just shrugs. Dan feels his hands wanting to fist, but he takes a deep breath instead; he promised to play nice tonight.
"This way then."
They don't talk much on the way, Fernando and Nicklas exchanging a few words, and Dan keeping out of it, as planned. He really doesn't want to encourage Nick to involve him, because he knows how these things work. One word leads to another and before he knows it, Nicklas will have told his whole life story (or get him to tell it himself- he can be sneaky like that).
The bar’s about half full when they arrive, bathed in dim blue light and the remaining glow of the sunset. Dan’s always liked the warmth and obscurity of the place, and the people who are always willing to strike up a conversation or leave him be. He’s all about personal space and he knows he can find that here.
“This is a great place,” Fernando murmurs in Spanish before he clears his throat and repeats it in English for Nick’s benefit, eyes sliding to Dan for a moment, catching him off guard because there’s no hostility or even irritation in them, only curiosity.
Even so Dan tenses and grips the insides of his pockets, wondering if Fernando’s curious enough to ask questions. And he knows that’ll only encourage Nicklas, whose loyalty to a friend only lasts as long as his attention span, the bastard. He’d throw Dan headfirst into the fire if he decided it’d be more entertaining than keeping him at a safe distance. (So he’s being dramatic but he can’t help feeling that his stomach is slowly but surely descending towards the vicinity of his feet.)
Nick gives him a wink as he steps aside to let them walk in first and he has to exert maximum effort to keep his feet from flying in the opposite direction. When they get their drinks, he knocks his whiskey back in one go. The burn is sweet and familiar enough to settle him down and still his fingers are tapping an obsessive rhythm against the bar top.
“Whoa there, Danny. At this rate, you’ll be gone before we start an actual conversation.”
“Spoken like a true lightweight.” The one drink has already loosened his tongue a little and he thinks he might be more tired than usual today.
“So, how do you two know each other?”
Dan expected the question but it still makes his swallowing a little difficult. Then his gut clenches when he looks over at Fernando and sees a sort of shy, fresh-faced sincerity that makes Fernando look like someone he could spill all his secrets to.
Nicklas looks at Dan for a moment, waiting for him to answer, Fernando's eyes moving between the two of them, as if trying to understand the silent conversation two friends are having. Finally, Dan sighs. If he doesn't say it, Nick will.
"We used to play football together."
"Oh, you play?"
Dan doesn't miss the bitterness in Fernando's tone, the tinge of pain that he tries to hide. He's almost too easy to read.
"Used to. A long time ago."
"He was good, though."
"Yeah, well, it's all in the past."
Dan grits his teeth, trying not to look as affected as he feels. He's pretty sure he's failing miserably, though.
"Why did you stop?"
Fernando's eyes are glinting, and it's obvious he wonders if Dan's reasons are similar to his own.
"Because I wanted to."
Fernando opens his mouth but closes it sharply a second after, looking down at his fingertips.
"I never should have left Atlético."
"Why? Liverpool's great."
"It's not home. It destroyed me."
"They made you big though."
"Being big is not everything."
Dan’s gritting his teeth again, thinking of what to say, because, is that why he quit himself?
Nicklas beats him to it though. "Fernando Torres, I've seen you play. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it!"
"I did!" Fernando's voice is defensive and angry, "It's been my life and I miss it so damn much!" And then he visibly deflates. "I'm tired of missing it and hurting for it. ¡Mierda!"
He slaps a hand down on the table top.
Dan didn't see that one coming, the argument taking a complete different turn.
"Someone needs a hug," Nick says in Danish and Dan agrees in his head a second before his brain catches up and he gives Nick a look.
The other is sitting closer to Fernando anyhow and Nick pats his shoulder a bit awkwardly, which makes the colour under his freckles raise slightly.
"Anyone want another drink?" Fernando is purposefully turning towards the bartender, making gestures that they'll have another round of the same, and he doesn’t turn back to them until the drinks arrive.
“Need to take a piss. Play nice, all right?” Nick says the last bit in Danish and Dan just glares at him, wondering if he can set Nick’s shirt on fire if he just stares hard enough.
He swipes a finger around the rim of his glass as the silence between him and Fernando sets in, thick as molasses, even (especially) with the noise of the conversations around them. Fernando’s looking down, tracing his finger through a spill on the bar top, and he looks so damn young in that moment, so defeated that Dan feels guilty, even though he hasn’t really done anything to deserve it this time.
And he thinks that maybe he’s assuming too much, expecting too much. He’s had more than two years to get over his regrets and mistakes, failures and shortcomings. Fernando’s only had a few months to absorb the loss of a career that might’ve made him one of the best footballers of his generation-even in history wouldn’t be an understatement.
Dan couldn’t walk in those shoes if he tried and maybe that’s why he’s been so antagonistic. No matter how long it’s been and how convincing he sounds in his own head, he’ll always be haunted by the what-ifs.
“I think about it everyday.” His voice is so quiet he’s not sure if Fernando heard him until the blond picks his head up and frowns in confusion. “It’s been over two years since I quit and I still miss it. Every day.”
He knows it won’t help Fernando, that it might just be salt in a fresh wound, but it’s his peace offering. He’s never admitted it to anyone and he hopes Fernando can see that, even as he’s thinking that he’s being a fucking idiot, giving away a piece of his heart like this and not knowing if he’ll ever get it back.
Fernando doesn't answer anything for a while before licking his lips, his eyes earnest, the hurt in them so plain Dan almost winces.
"Does it get better?"
Dan takes a sharp breath. Not really, it doesn't really get better, but he has a feeling he shouldn't admit that to Fernando.
"Opening the shop helped. Kept my mind and hands busy. Didn't have so much time to think about it."
Fernando dry-swallows, looking at his own hands, down to the tattoo on his wrist.
"I don't know how to do anything else."
"I can try and help you get over it. Get better, at least."
Dan has no idea why those words come out of his mouth, but he finds himself really wanting it, wanting to see a smile on Fernando's face. He must be beautiful when he smiles.
"But- you don't like me. We don't like each other."
"Bad start. If you don't want me to, that's fine."
"I didn't say that. Will you work on my tattoo?"
Dan shakes his head, firmly. "No."
"Okay. That's clear at least."
Dan sees something flicker in his eyes. Maybe, with the new information he has - even if not the complete story - Fernando is asking himself what he'd do if their roles were reversed.
And then Dan remembers that Fernando had actually come back to the shop on his own.
"Why did you come back?"
"Hm?" It's obvious now that Dan called him back from something he's been mulling over.
"Earlier today. Why did you come back to the shop? I thought I'd never see you again." Oh fuck, that sounded too much like something from a cheesy novel. "I mean... After the fight and all. That you wouldn't want to come back." Only slightly better.
"Doesn't matter anymore."
"Come on, must have been important enough. And I'm kind of curious now."
Dan thinks he's only keeping the conversation going because for once it’s going on without raised voices, not because one tiny little treacherous part of his brain hopes Fernando came back for him, too.
"I wanted to talk to you about my tattoo. Wait, before you say anything! I... have been thinking about it. I thought, maybe, I could do a companion piece for it. Work it around the 9? I don't know, it was just a silly idea, I don't even have anything concrete yet."
"Show me again."
Fernando is clearly surprised, but he holds his arm out to Dan.
"Yeah, could work," he mumbles and doesn't question the tingle in his fingers as he touches the skin, tracing the tattoo for a second. Fernando twitches, but doesn't pull back.
Dan straightens when he sees Nicklas on his way back to them. "Um, yeah, we could think of something I guess. Come back to the shop tomorrow.”
Fernando offers a tentative smile when Nicklas slides back into his seat, momentarily blocking Dan’s view, but he sees enough of it to imagine what it would look like full-blown (cheeks stretched and eyes crinkled). The shy tilt of Fernando’s mouth already holds something special that makes Dan want to tell a stupid joke, pull a face, just to draw it out again. And then he feels ridiculous, thinks that maybe he’s lacked company for far too long.
“Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” There’s an annoying twinkle in Nick’s eye that makes Dan flush a little and he can’t be more relieved that the bar’s dark enough to hide his warm cheeks.
“We were having a nice chat until you rudely interrupted,” Dan retorts as his eyes slide back to Fernando, who’s still wearing that small smile on his lips like he’s finally found a reason to keep it there. Dan grasps his glass a bit more tightly and he doesn’t know if he should relax or keep his guard up; considering how he and Fernando have got on since they met, he won’t be surprised if they start landing punches next.
“Nice? I’m impressed.” Nick turns to Fernando. “Danny’s usually a nice boy, you just seem to know how to push his buttons.”
Dan wonder if it’s just a trick of the light or if Fernando’s cheeks are red. Either way, he shoots Nick a murderous glare and kicks him under the bar as inconspicuously as possible.
“I’m good at causing trouble, I guess,” Fernando jokes weakly, meeting Dan’s eyes for a moment and Dan can’t help wondering how differently it (they) would’ve turned out if he had only agreed to Fernando’s request a week ago.
*
Fernando clenches his fist, looking at his bare arm, freckles splattered over the skin. He doesn't quite realise yet that soon enough there will be ink covering the freckles. He doesn't quite realise that it's already been a few weeks since he and Dan reached some sort of truce, some sort of something that Fernando has a hard time putting a name to.
What he can pinpoint is how their relationship changed from angry words and gritted teeth to something more relaxed, to smiles and conversations about pasts and futures. Fernando learned about Dan's football past and his decision to stop, his move. Dan learned about Fernando's family, dreams, multiple injuries. They don't talk about the pain so much, they haven’t talked about Nicklas since he left. They pick and choose topics, not always the most comfortable ones, but surprisingly enough for Fernando, it works.
"Ready?"
Dan slides close from his wheely stool, pulling the tray with him, ink, tattoo gun and gloves ready, his eyes serious as he looks at Fernando.
"Dunno. Can I trust you?"
Fernando smiles, raising an eyebrow at Dan. Only a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have thought about trying to tease, to joke. It wouldn't even have crossed his mind.
"Of course not. I'll do a heart and write mamá inside." Still an entirely serious face, but Fernando can see the corners of his mouth wanting to twitch.
He cocks his head, pretending to consider this.
"You know, that's not a bad idea. Mothers should be honoured. Do it then."
A beat and then they're both laughing.
When they've calmed down again, Fernando nods at Dan. "Ready."
Dan nods back, puts the gloves on and starts the machine. The sound is already killing his nerves when Dan swipes a pad, soaked in disinfectant, over his forearm. He really wishes they'd invent something more silent.
And then Dan gets even closer and finally puts the needle to his skin. Fernando fights the urge to fist his hand, having forgotten about the strange sensation. It's not pain exactly, only his body's initial instinct to pull away.
He completely relaxes though when he sees the first lines of the koi fish, getting used to the feel of the needle again, the buzz of the machine. He even starts to smile, because he already sees the finished tattoo in his mind and he’s sure it'll look great.
"Okay?" Dan looks up, wiping another pad over the developing tattoo, reaching out for more ink, but pausing when his eyes meet Fernando's.
“Yea, I’m fine. It’s been a long time, that’s all.”
Dan looks genuinely concerned and Fernando has to smile. He’s realized in the past week or so that he’s already come to trust Dan, confide in him, as much as any teammate or childhood friend. Not that he’s got Dan figured out, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there’s a solidity to him, an awareness that’s helped centre Fernando’s world, settle it right-side up again.
“Don’t worry, my skin’s tougher than it looks.” He winks and immediately flushes a little because he’s not sure why he did that, why there are unexpected moments like this when he flirts with Dan and then feels like an awkward, socially inept teenager.
“Could’ve fooled me with all these dainty freckles.” Dan’s eyes are glinting with one part humour and one part- something Fernando can’t figure out before he hunches over and continues to ink.
“You have freckles too!” Fernando protests and thinks that Dan’s doing a terrible job of hiding his grin.
“Yours are more girly. Stop fidgeting or this koi will end up having a second tail.”
Fernando thinks he should probably feel offended but he’s distracted by the warmth spreading right beneath his skin, a bit like the sensation of lying under the Mediterranean sun or warming up on the pitch on cold mornings. It’s contentment and happiness if he dares to think it- the kind that’s frightening and new because he hasn’t moved on, not yet, but he’s getting there.
"'M not fidgeting."
"You are. Let me work, will you?"
This time, Dan doesn't even try to hide his grin as he looks down at his work. The rhythmic pain dulls the thoughts in Fernando's head, and he's half asleep when Dan stops for just a while longer than before, breaking the pattern and making Fernando look down.
"Everything all right?"
"Yeah. Just making sure it's looking right."
"Is it going to be one of your prized pieces?"
Dan looks up, and Fernando smirks, trying to ease the pang he feels in his body as he dives deep into Dan's eyes, wanting to read things there that probably won't ever show.
Dan breaks it up by chuckling and looking down, starting again on the tattoo, but Fernando doesn't miss the blush creeping up his neck.
"Definitely not. I’ve got tons better ones."
Fernando just laughs, rolling his eyes.
"I wish I could do it, too. Give you a tattoo."
"You'd have to find a place to do it on first."
That's true, Fernando thinks, Dan has a lot of skin already covered. Or at least in places that everyone can see (Dan had even once lifted the hem of his shirt to show him the ones on his back and side, and Fernando had thought he liked what he saw).
Other than that, it isn’t as if they've taken off their clothes and shown each other the extent of their ink. He blushes at the thought, glad that Dan is still bent over, but at the same time he looks Dan up and down, contemplating where there could be more ink.
"Stop that."
"What?"
"You- you're looking at me. I know what you're doing, stop it."
"Well, you said yourself I have to find a place to tattoo first, and since I'm sure I have only seen half of yours, I have to imagine."
This time it's Dan's cheeks that are clearly tinted pink and Fernando wonders if this is a game of theirs now, to make each other blush.
"It's not- I'm just thinking about where another one would look good."
There's that thing in Dan's eyes again, only this time he doesn't look away, but Fernando still can’t read what exactly it is (or he’s just afraid that he does).
"Let's finish this then and if you're really that interested, I can show you the others later."
An image surfaces in Fernando’s mind, of Dan peeling off his shirt with his back to Fernando, muscles shifting and rolling under skin tinted by the Spanish sun, jeans hanging low on his hips, just enough to reveal the colour of his boxers, and Fernando freezes a little, eyes nearly fluttering shut as he swallows dryly.
Dan probably feels him tense under his hands because he looks up, eyebrows drawn slightly in confusion, and his eyes just make Fernando fall a little deeper into his imagination. He feels his hand come up to run two fingers down the curve of Dan’s spine, then trace the outer edge of every tattoo (he only has a vague recollection), slowly and delicately like they’re sacred, the heat of Dan’s skin only drawing him closer.
Then he inhales sharply, head buzzing, blood humming, and remembers where he is, what he’s really doing. He blinks and realizes Dan’s said something, and fuck, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing but he feels like he’s violated some unspoken rule of their friendship and he can’t even apologize for it because that means he’ll have to tell Dan why he’s apologizing.
“You okay?” That’s what Dan must’ve said the first time and suddenly, everything feels too closed off, his skin feels too itchy, and Dan’s hands feel too heavy against his arm.
“Yea, I- I need some fresh air. Can we take a break?”
Dan looks a little surprised, because it's not like Fernando has been sitting in the chair for that long, or they’ve gone very far with the tattoo, but he nods, turning the tattoo machine off.
"'Course. You sure you're all right?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."
Fernando smiles, trying to hide how flushed he feels, how the images still playing in his head are affecting him. He doesn't want Dan to know. He doesn't want the humiliation.
"Okay. We can go on in a bit, if you want?"
"Yeah. I'll go for a walk, grab us coffees?"
"Cool, okay. Let me wrap that up for you first."
Dan spends some time wrapping the cling film around Fernando's wrist after putting some protective Vaseline on. Fernando tries his best to ignore Dan's fingers on him.
"Okay. You're good to go."
"I'll be right back."
Fernando smiles, barely resisting the urge to brush his fingers against Dan's cheek before he stands up and rushes out of the shop.
Chapter 3
Author: littlesumo scribblscrabbl delicatale
Rating: PG (this chapter)
Pairing: Fernando Torres/Daniel Agger
Disclaimer: This is fiction
Summary: Of all the things Fernando wanted to do, of all the things he wanted to see, of all the places he wanted to go to, he never thought giving up football, going back to Spain and moving to Seville would be any of them.
It's been a week since Fernando left the tattoo shop (and Dan) in a huff, not knowing where or on whom to vent his anger. After three days he thinks it might have been a little bit his fault too, the two of them hitting it off badly, but then he remembers Dan's pretentiousness and he forgets about his insight.
After five days he catches himself looking through a tattoo magazine he finds at a kiosk, and he buys it, but forgets about it when he gets home to a message from his mother, complaining about his lack of calls, and spends the next four hours on the phone with her.
So it's been a week since he left the shop, and here he is, standing it front of it again, looking at the dark-blue sign and going in before his courage leaves him.
He thinks the front of the shop is empty at first but then someone calls out to him.
"Fernando?"
He stiffens (why is it that he always meets fans when he’s around Daniel?) but the second he turns to the voice, he realises he recognises it, and the face.
"Nicklas." He's honestly surprised, so much so, that the fact that someone from his past is suddenly standing in front of him doesn't register in the painful way it normally would. "What are you doing here?"
"Visiting my Danny boy."
"You know Dan?"
"Sure I do!"
Speaking of the devil, Fernando sees Dan emerging from the back, probably alerted by the stupid chime and their voices, and he sees too, Dan's small gesture that makes Nicklas fall silent and clear his throat before asking, "So, how are you doing? I haven’t seen you since-"
"Yeah, don't mention it, all right?"
"Of course, yea."
Fernando feels uneasy now, and he only wants to leave. Speaking English again, for Nicklas' sake, feels foreign, like his tongue cannot quite remember how to wrap around the words comfortably.
"Well, since you have a visitor, I'll come back later." He only glances at Dan for a second before looking away again. "See you around."
"Wait, Fernando, do you want to grab a beer later or something?"
Fernando is really sure he doesn't want to, but he also doesn't want to be impolite and he guesses Nicklas would understand that he won't want to talk about his past.
"I guess. Where are you staying? I could come back here at 8?"
"It’s a deal then. See you later!"
He leaves with Nicklas' beaming face behind him, and Dan's frowning one.
*
"What the Hell did you do that for?"
Dan's not amused. He's not amused that Nicklas showed up basically without any warning, making a home on Dan's sofa. He's not amused that he's been there for days now, hanging around doing nothing. And now Dan is really not amused that Nicklas just invited Fernando to join them tonight for drinks.
He hasn't seen Fernando in days, was starting to think that Fernando wouldn't come back. Now, not only did Nicklas invite him for their night out, but Dan’s also left wondering what Fernando was doing here.
Nicklas shrugs at Dan, oblivious as ever. For all his loyalty and friendliness, for all his good looks and strength on the pitch, Nicklas Bendtner is not the brightest crayon in the box. Anyone else would have felt the tension as soon as Dan and Fernando looked at each other.
"What? I didn't know you know Torres!"
"I don't know him, Nick. He came over once for a tat and it didn't work out. We got into a fight, to be honest."
"A fight?"
Nicklas sits in the tattoo chair, looking at Dan with confused eyes. Dan sighs, knowing his friend is unfortunately not going to let it go until it's all explained clearly for him.
"He wanted me to work on a tattoo he already has and I didn't want to. Look, Nick, it doesn't matter. What matters, though, is that you shut up about my past tonight, okay? Don't tell him I used to play."
"You want me to lie, but you won't tell me why? Tsk, tsk, Dan, you should know me better."
Dan sighs. "That's really the whole story between us, isn’t it."
"Tell me your part then. Why you're so adamant about him not finding out."
"Who I was before isn’t important. He... he really is not in the best of places right now, anyone can see that, he doesn't need any reminders of what used to be, doesn't need to know about me." Dan wants to slap himself for using the reason they had the fight about, to explain himself (make excuses) to Nick.
"Well, knowing he's not alone with this could help him, couldn't it? And if it's of no importance, I can tell him."
"Nicklas Bendtner, don't you dare!"
Nick ponders him from his perch for a moment.
"You fancy him, don't you?"
"What?! Don't be stupid!"
Nicklas is grinning from ear to ear and Dan is a little afraid.
"Oh, but you do."
Moments like this always make Dan feel like he’s bickering with a five-year-old. An overgrown five-year-old with an obscenely devious streak.
“Nick, I know you’re always horny, but doesn’t mean everyone else is.”
Nicklas pouts a little but it’s been years since that’s worked on Dan.
“When was the last time you got laid, huh? Out with it.”
“Fuck off. I’m not discussing my sex life with you.” Dan retrieves his latest sketch and hunches over it in concentration, hoping that maybe, just maybe this time, Nick would get the hint and change the topic of conversation, or leave. Dan knows which one he prefers.
“You know that’s just another way of saying ‘it’s been a pathetically long time,’ right?” Dan doesn’t have to look up to know that Nick looks downright smug; he can hear it dripping off the syllables.
“Have you come all the way to Sevilla just to make fun of me? Go out and enjoy the sun, get a tan. You’re so pale it’s embarrassing me.”
Nicklas doesn’t respond and the silence becomes so drawn out that Dan looks up, thinking for a moment that he’s somehow offended Nick, if that’s even possible. He doesn’t think he’s ever known anyone as laid-back and absolutely shameless as Nicklas Bendtner.
Dan blinks because Nick is just staring at him with a slight crease between his eyebrows, like Dan’s a puzzle he’s trying to figure out, a Rubik’s Cube with all the parts but no solution in sight. He wants to tell Nick to give it up, that even he doesn’t know how to align his pieces, let alone give someone else instructions. But he keeps his mouth shut because he doesn’t want to admit it, not even to Nick.
“So what, it was mutual hate at first sight? You and Torres?”
Dan sighs deeply and drags a hand across his face, remembering just how reckless Nick’s curiosity is (like a truck barrelling down the freeway without brakes).
“No, I don’t hate him,” and he leaves it at that because he doesn’t know how else he feels about the striker. Honestly, he was hoping they’d never see each other again.
“You guys have at least one thing in common,” Nicklas points out and it’s all Dan can do not to slam his hand down on the counter and bite Nick’s head off.
“It’s not the same. Not even fucking close.”
"Okay, if you say so. Why is it different?"
Dan can’t lie; he really loves Nicklas for all his flaws and his obnoxiousness, for all that drives Dan crazy. Nicklas is still his best friend and Dan can't quite stay mad at him for more than five minutes, even when he wants to.
And Dan doesn't really want to stay mad, anyway. In the end Nick is leaving soon and maybe it's a good thing for Dan to be able to let some feelings out. Nicklas always puts things into perspective, for some unknown reason to Dan.
"Because- because I chose to stop. He got injured. He wouldn't get it. I wouldn't expect him to get it."
"Wow, way to give a man some credit, Dan. Why are you so intent on not liking him? He's a good guy. He can even be fun."
"How would you know? And I'm not intent on anything."
Nicklas sighs, spreading his fingers over the tabletop, making Dan look down at them. There's something always a bit unsettling about Nicklas being all reason and calm. It puts Dan on edge, too close for comfort, letting his own issues surface. When Nick is loud and brash, Dan can hide in the shadows.
"I know you, Agger. Your first impressions of people are usually what you stick to, even if you're completely off. And I know because we shared a hotel with the Spanish NT once and we had drinks with them. Fernando is cool. Maybe tonight you could make an effort and not bite anyone's head off, and rework that first impression."
"If I stick to my first impressions, why are we friends then?"
"Ah, because you loved me from the second you met me." Nick winks and Dan thinks their bickering really has to stop now and he wonders if he promises to be good, Nicklas will leave him alone. Although he's still a bit miffed that he invited Fernando along. He would suggest that Nick meet Fernando alone, that he still has things to do, if he didn't know how that would end.
"Yeah, so much so, I wonder why we aren't married." Dan rolls his eyes. "If you promise to keep your mouth shut, I will promise the same. I probably won't have much to say anyway. And since you invited him to our night out," he cannot resist the slight jab, "you can entertain him."
"Perfect."
*
It's one minute to eight and Fernando is annoyingly on time. Dan is just locking the shop, Nicklas bouncing on the balls of his feet beside him.
"So, where are you taking me?"
Nick actually claps his hands and Dan wonders when his friend reverted to a five year old who’s been promised anything at the toy shop.
"The Taifa?" Dan chances a look at Fernando, who just shrugs. Dan feels his hands wanting to fist, but he takes a deep breath instead; he promised to play nice tonight.
"This way then."
They don't talk much on the way, Fernando and Nicklas exchanging a few words, and Dan keeping out of it, as planned. He really doesn't want to encourage Nick to involve him, because he knows how these things work. One word leads to another and before he knows it, Nicklas will have told his whole life story (or get him to tell it himself- he can be sneaky like that).
The bar’s about half full when they arrive, bathed in dim blue light and the remaining glow of the sunset. Dan’s always liked the warmth and obscurity of the place, and the people who are always willing to strike up a conversation or leave him be. He’s all about personal space and he knows he can find that here.
“This is a great place,” Fernando murmurs in Spanish before he clears his throat and repeats it in English for Nick’s benefit, eyes sliding to Dan for a moment, catching him off guard because there’s no hostility or even irritation in them, only curiosity.
Even so Dan tenses and grips the insides of his pockets, wondering if Fernando’s curious enough to ask questions. And he knows that’ll only encourage Nicklas, whose loyalty to a friend only lasts as long as his attention span, the bastard. He’d throw Dan headfirst into the fire if he decided it’d be more entertaining than keeping him at a safe distance. (So he’s being dramatic but he can’t help feeling that his stomach is slowly but surely descending towards the vicinity of his feet.)
Nick gives him a wink as he steps aside to let them walk in first and he has to exert maximum effort to keep his feet from flying in the opposite direction. When they get their drinks, he knocks his whiskey back in one go. The burn is sweet and familiar enough to settle him down and still his fingers are tapping an obsessive rhythm against the bar top.
“Whoa there, Danny. At this rate, you’ll be gone before we start an actual conversation.”
“Spoken like a true lightweight.” The one drink has already loosened his tongue a little and he thinks he might be more tired than usual today.
“So, how do you two know each other?”
Dan expected the question but it still makes his swallowing a little difficult. Then his gut clenches when he looks over at Fernando and sees a sort of shy, fresh-faced sincerity that makes Fernando look like someone he could spill all his secrets to.
Nicklas looks at Dan for a moment, waiting for him to answer, Fernando's eyes moving between the two of them, as if trying to understand the silent conversation two friends are having. Finally, Dan sighs. If he doesn't say it, Nick will.
"We used to play football together."
"Oh, you play?"
Dan doesn't miss the bitterness in Fernando's tone, the tinge of pain that he tries to hide. He's almost too easy to read.
"Used to. A long time ago."
"He was good, though."
"Yeah, well, it's all in the past."
Dan grits his teeth, trying not to look as affected as he feels. He's pretty sure he's failing miserably, though.
"Why did you stop?"
Fernando's eyes are glinting, and it's obvious he wonders if Dan's reasons are similar to his own.
"Because I wanted to."
Fernando opens his mouth but closes it sharply a second after, looking down at his fingertips.
"I never should have left Atlético."
"Why? Liverpool's great."
"It's not home. It destroyed me."
"They made you big though."
"Being big is not everything."
Dan’s gritting his teeth again, thinking of what to say, because, is that why he quit himself?
Nicklas beats him to it though. "Fernando Torres, I've seen you play. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it!"
"I did!" Fernando's voice is defensive and angry, "It's been my life and I miss it so damn much!" And then he visibly deflates. "I'm tired of missing it and hurting for it. ¡Mierda!"
He slaps a hand down on the table top.
Dan didn't see that one coming, the argument taking a complete different turn.
"Someone needs a hug," Nick says in Danish and Dan agrees in his head a second before his brain catches up and he gives Nick a look.
The other is sitting closer to Fernando anyhow and Nick pats his shoulder a bit awkwardly, which makes the colour under his freckles raise slightly.
"Anyone want another drink?" Fernando is purposefully turning towards the bartender, making gestures that they'll have another round of the same, and he doesn’t turn back to them until the drinks arrive.
“Need to take a piss. Play nice, all right?” Nick says the last bit in Danish and Dan just glares at him, wondering if he can set Nick’s shirt on fire if he just stares hard enough.
He swipes a finger around the rim of his glass as the silence between him and Fernando sets in, thick as molasses, even (especially) with the noise of the conversations around them. Fernando’s looking down, tracing his finger through a spill on the bar top, and he looks so damn young in that moment, so defeated that Dan feels guilty, even though he hasn’t really done anything to deserve it this time.
And he thinks that maybe he’s assuming too much, expecting too much. He’s had more than two years to get over his regrets and mistakes, failures and shortcomings. Fernando’s only had a few months to absorb the loss of a career that might’ve made him one of the best footballers of his generation-even in history wouldn’t be an understatement.
Dan couldn’t walk in those shoes if he tried and maybe that’s why he’s been so antagonistic. No matter how long it’s been and how convincing he sounds in his own head, he’ll always be haunted by the what-ifs.
“I think about it everyday.” His voice is so quiet he’s not sure if Fernando heard him until the blond picks his head up and frowns in confusion. “It’s been over two years since I quit and I still miss it. Every day.”
He knows it won’t help Fernando, that it might just be salt in a fresh wound, but it’s his peace offering. He’s never admitted it to anyone and he hopes Fernando can see that, even as he’s thinking that he’s being a fucking idiot, giving away a piece of his heart like this and not knowing if he’ll ever get it back.
Fernando doesn't answer anything for a while before licking his lips, his eyes earnest, the hurt in them so plain Dan almost winces.
"Does it get better?"
Dan takes a sharp breath. Not really, it doesn't really get better, but he has a feeling he shouldn't admit that to Fernando.
"Opening the shop helped. Kept my mind and hands busy. Didn't have so much time to think about it."
Fernando dry-swallows, looking at his own hands, down to the tattoo on his wrist.
"I don't know how to do anything else."
"I can try and help you get over it. Get better, at least."
Dan has no idea why those words come out of his mouth, but he finds himself really wanting it, wanting to see a smile on Fernando's face. He must be beautiful when he smiles.
"But- you don't like me. We don't like each other."
"Bad start. If you don't want me to, that's fine."
"I didn't say that. Will you work on my tattoo?"
Dan shakes his head, firmly. "No."
"Okay. That's clear at least."
Dan sees something flicker in his eyes. Maybe, with the new information he has - even if not the complete story - Fernando is asking himself what he'd do if their roles were reversed.
And then Dan remembers that Fernando had actually come back to the shop on his own.
"Why did you come back?"
"Hm?" It's obvious now that Dan called him back from something he's been mulling over.
"Earlier today. Why did you come back to the shop? I thought I'd never see you again." Oh fuck, that sounded too much like something from a cheesy novel. "I mean... After the fight and all. That you wouldn't want to come back." Only slightly better.
"Doesn't matter anymore."
"Come on, must have been important enough. And I'm kind of curious now."
Dan thinks he's only keeping the conversation going because for once it’s going on without raised voices, not because one tiny little treacherous part of his brain hopes Fernando came back for him, too.
"I wanted to talk to you about my tattoo. Wait, before you say anything! I... have been thinking about it. I thought, maybe, I could do a companion piece for it. Work it around the 9? I don't know, it was just a silly idea, I don't even have anything concrete yet."
"Show me again."
Fernando is clearly surprised, but he holds his arm out to Dan.
"Yeah, could work," he mumbles and doesn't question the tingle in his fingers as he touches the skin, tracing the tattoo for a second. Fernando twitches, but doesn't pull back.
Dan straightens when he sees Nicklas on his way back to them. "Um, yeah, we could think of something I guess. Come back to the shop tomorrow.”
Fernando offers a tentative smile when Nicklas slides back into his seat, momentarily blocking Dan’s view, but he sees enough of it to imagine what it would look like full-blown (cheeks stretched and eyes crinkled). The shy tilt of Fernando’s mouth already holds something special that makes Dan want to tell a stupid joke, pull a face, just to draw it out again. And then he feels ridiculous, thinks that maybe he’s lacked company for far too long.
“Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” There’s an annoying twinkle in Nick’s eye that makes Dan flush a little and he can’t be more relieved that the bar’s dark enough to hide his warm cheeks.
“We were having a nice chat until you rudely interrupted,” Dan retorts as his eyes slide back to Fernando, who’s still wearing that small smile on his lips like he’s finally found a reason to keep it there. Dan grasps his glass a bit more tightly and he doesn’t know if he should relax or keep his guard up; considering how he and Fernando have got on since they met, he won’t be surprised if they start landing punches next.
“Nice? I’m impressed.” Nick turns to Fernando. “Danny’s usually a nice boy, you just seem to know how to push his buttons.”
Dan wonder if it’s just a trick of the light or if Fernando’s cheeks are red. Either way, he shoots Nick a murderous glare and kicks him under the bar as inconspicuously as possible.
“I’m good at causing trouble, I guess,” Fernando jokes weakly, meeting Dan’s eyes for a moment and Dan can’t help wondering how differently it (they) would’ve turned out if he had only agreed to Fernando’s request a week ago.
*
Fernando clenches his fist, looking at his bare arm, freckles splattered over the skin. He doesn't quite realise yet that soon enough there will be ink covering the freckles. He doesn't quite realise that it's already been a few weeks since he and Dan reached some sort of truce, some sort of something that Fernando has a hard time putting a name to.
What he can pinpoint is how their relationship changed from angry words and gritted teeth to something more relaxed, to smiles and conversations about pasts and futures. Fernando learned about Dan's football past and his decision to stop, his move. Dan learned about Fernando's family, dreams, multiple injuries. They don't talk about the pain so much, they haven’t talked about Nicklas since he left. They pick and choose topics, not always the most comfortable ones, but surprisingly enough for Fernando, it works.
"Ready?"
Dan slides close from his wheely stool, pulling the tray with him, ink, tattoo gun and gloves ready, his eyes serious as he looks at Fernando.
"Dunno. Can I trust you?"
Fernando smiles, raising an eyebrow at Dan. Only a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have thought about trying to tease, to joke. It wouldn't even have crossed his mind.
"Of course not. I'll do a heart and write mamá inside." Still an entirely serious face, but Fernando can see the corners of his mouth wanting to twitch.
He cocks his head, pretending to consider this.
"You know, that's not a bad idea. Mothers should be honoured. Do it then."
A beat and then they're both laughing.
When they've calmed down again, Fernando nods at Dan. "Ready."
Dan nods back, puts the gloves on and starts the machine. The sound is already killing his nerves when Dan swipes a pad, soaked in disinfectant, over his forearm. He really wishes they'd invent something more silent.
And then Dan gets even closer and finally puts the needle to his skin. Fernando fights the urge to fist his hand, having forgotten about the strange sensation. It's not pain exactly, only his body's initial instinct to pull away.
He completely relaxes though when he sees the first lines of the koi fish, getting used to the feel of the needle again, the buzz of the machine. He even starts to smile, because he already sees the finished tattoo in his mind and he’s sure it'll look great.
"Okay?" Dan looks up, wiping another pad over the developing tattoo, reaching out for more ink, but pausing when his eyes meet Fernando's.
“Yea, I’m fine. It’s been a long time, that’s all.”
Dan looks genuinely concerned and Fernando has to smile. He’s realized in the past week or so that he’s already come to trust Dan, confide in him, as much as any teammate or childhood friend. Not that he’s got Dan figured out, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there’s a solidity to him, an awareness that’s helped centre Fernando’s world, settle it right-side up again.
“Don’t worry, my skin’s tougher than it looks.” He winks and immediately flushes a little because he’s not sure why he did that, why there are unexpected moments like this when he flirts with Dan and then feels like an awkward, socially inept teenager.
“Could’ve fooled me with all these dainty freckles.” Dan’s eyes are glinting with one part humour and one part- something Fernando can’t figure out before he hunches over and continues to ink.
“You have freckles too!” Fernando protests and thinks that Dan’s doing a terrible job of hiding his grin.
“Yours are more girly. Stop fidgeting or this koi will end up having a second tail.”
Fernando thinks he should probably feel offended but he’s distracted by the warmth spreading right beneath his skin, a bit like the sensation of lying under the Mediterranean sun or warming up on the pitch on cold mornings. It’s contentment and happiness if he dares to think it- the kind that’s frightening and new because he hasn’t moved on, not yet, but he’s getting there.
"'M not fidgeting."
"You are. Let me work, will you?"
This time, Dan doesn't even try to hide his grin as he looks down at his work. The rhythmic pain dulls the thoughts in Fernando's head, and he's half asleep when Dan stops for just a while longer than before, breaking the pattern and making Fernando look down.
"Everything all right?"
"Yeah. Just making sure it's looking right."
"Is it going to be one of your prized pieces?"
Dan looks up, and Fernando smirks, trying to ease the pang he feels in his body as he dives deep into Dan's eyes, wanting to read things there that probably won't ever show.
Dan breaks it up by chuckling and looking down, starting again on the tattoo, but Fernando doesn't miss the blush creeping up his neck.
"Definitely not. I’ve got tons better ones."
Fernando just laughs, rolling his eyes.
"I wish I could do it, too. Give you a tattoo."
"You'd have to find a place to do it on first."
That's true, Fernando thinks, Dan has a lot of skin already covered. Or at least in places that everyone can see (Dan had even once lifted the hem of his shirt to show him the ones on his back and side, and Fernando had thought he liked what he saw).
Other than that, it isn’t as if they've taken off their clothes and shown each other the extent of their ink. He blushes at the thought, glad that Dan is still bent over, but at the same time he looks Dan up and down, contemplating where there could be more ink.
"Stop that."
"What?"
"You- you're looking at me. I know what you're doing, stop it."
"Well, you said yourself I have to find a place to tattoo first, and since I'm sure I have only seen half of yours, I have to imagine."
This time it's Dan's cheeks that are clearly tinted pink and Fernando wonders if this is a game of theirs now, to make each other blush.
"It's not- I'm just thinking about where another one would look good."
There's that thing in Dan's eyes again, only this time he doesn't look away, but Fernando still can’t read what exactly it is (or he’s just afraid that he does).
"Let's finish this then and if you're really that interested, I can show you the others later."
An image surfaces in Fernando’s mind, of Dan peeling off his shirt with his back to Fernando, muscles shifting and rolling under skin tinted by the Spanish sun, jeans hanging low on his hips, just enough to reveal the colour of his boxers, and Fernando freezes a little, eyes nearly fluttering shut as he swallows dryly.
Dan probably feels him tense under his hands because he looks up, eyebrows drawn slightly in confusion, and his eyes just make Fernando fall a little deeper into his imagination. He feels his hand come up to run two fingers down the curve of Dan’s spine, then trace the outer edge of every tattoo (he only has a vague recollection), slowly and delicately like they’re sacred, the heat of Dan’s skin only drawing him closer.
Then he inhales sharply, head buzzing, blood humming, and remembers where he is, what he’s really doing. He blinks and realizes Dan’s said something, and fuck, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing but he feels like he’s violated some unspoken rule of their friendship and he can’t even apologize for it because that means he’ll have to tell Dan why he’s apologizing.
“You okay?” That’s what Dan must’ve said the first time and suddenly, everything feels too closed off, his skin feels too itchy, and Dan’s hands feel too heavy against his arm.
“Yea, I- I need some fresh air. Can we take a break?”
Dan looks a little surprised, because it's not like Fernando has been sitting in the chair for that long, or they’ve gone very far with the tattoo, but he nods, turning the tattoo machine off.
"'Course. You sure you're all right?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."
Fernando smiles, trying to hide how flushed he feels, how the images still playing in his head are affecting him. He doesn't want Dan to know. He doesn't want the humiliation.
"Okay. We can go on in a bit, if you want?"
"Yeah. I'll go for a walk, grab us coffees?"
"Cool, okay. Let me wrap that up for you first."
Dan spends some time wrapping the cling film around Fernando's wrist after putting some protective Vaseline on. Fernando tries his best to ignore Dan's fingers on him.
"Okay. You're good to go."
"I'll be right back."
Fernando smiles, barely resisting the urge to brush his fingers against Dan's cheek before he stands up and rushes out of the shop.
Chapter 3