Gen fic, PG.
One
The first time they came back to Barcelona after that time, someone thought it would be funny to slip Lord of the Flies into his bag. Iker got it in the head.
Two
When, in retirement, he went to the Ciutat Esportiva and Luis Enrique, frazzled, had mentioned something about security camera tapes that needed smuggling out of the city. He had just rolled his eyes, patting him on the back, wondering if maybe working with youth required that much coffee consumption. When he came home, unpacking caused him to nearly take an eye out with DVDs the scattered from his bag to the floor. When he put one on, his eyes bugged. His first--and last--thought before he hastily shut off the TV and went to search for something to bleach his eyes with was, how is Pep still that flexible...
Three
He vowed to not just drop his training bag in the hallway when he pulled out a Barbie lodged in his jock strap in the locker room.
Four
After that picture made its way around, he had made sure to pay attention to his suspiciously unsuspicious teammates. After a few days of nothing, he forgot about it. Until, while being lectured they were changing before a match, his bag fell off the bench and deposited a box of jumbo-sized condoms by Jose's polished 4000€ shoes.
Five
He used to pack in the dark for training, not wanting to bother Helen. Until, for the second time after training in Madrid, his hand closed around a training vest emblazoned with the Barça crest. It was lights on in the morning after.