Consolation
Title: Consolation
Pairing: Gonzalo Higuaín x Lionel Messi
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1.210
Disclaimer: I don’t know them, they’re not mine.
Warning: This is not even PG-13, I think. It’s so innocent. Other things: English is not my first language, so sometimes I’m not sure if the expressions I use are correct since I don’t have a beta.
Content: After el clásico, Gonzalo is angry.
He just comes out of the shower when he hears the doorbell ring. Not even bothering to open the door, Gonzalo goes straight to the living room, lying down on the couch and closing his eyes.
This just can’t be happening again. They just can’t lose again against fucking Barcelona. After all, it’s his birthday. His fucking 24th birthday. And it had to be ruined. By fucking Barça, just to make matters worse. They had lost fucking el clásico on his birthday. He’s just so angry, he doesn’t think he can manage all this frustration in him right now. So he tries to stay calm, tries really hard, breathes deeply in and out again, keeps his eyes closed. Breathes again. It doesn’t work. Groaning, he reopens his eyes and stares at the ceiling.
That’s when he hears the doorbell ring again. Without thinking about who it might be-everyone who knew where he lived should also know that right now wasn’t a good moment to stop by for a chat, not now, not in the middle of the night, not after he has just el clásico-he shouts, the anger still apparent in his voice. “Fuck off!” He still doesn’t bother getting up and maybe opening the door anyways.
“Pipita!” Gonzalo hears a voice calling his name and fists drumming against the front door.
“Just leave”, he yells, but sits up slowly. He definitely knows this voice, he just couldn’t figure out who it was right now.
“Gonzalo, open the door! I have to talk to you, now. And they only gave me an hour before the plane leaves for Japan!” Now he knows who’s there standing in front of his door, waiting to be let in. It is Leo, of course. Who else would dare coming to talk to him now? After all, Leo’s social skills are not that developed.
He gets up slowly, walks to the door and opens it hesitantly. He isn’t quite sure if he really can take talking to Leo right now-even though they’re friends and get along quite well during national call-ups-he’s still the enemy. But he can’t be worse now, can he?
Leo smiles shyly at him when he walks into Gonzalo’s house. That’s more how he knows Leo-shy, quiet. The whole banging-at-the-door-and-yelling-thing is not a typical thing for him; it’s a rarity that he even speaks up. He offers Leo something to drink and goes back into the living room, slumping down on the couch again. Leo slowly sits down next to him, not really knowing what to do.
“Fuck you, Leo. Fuck you and your stupid Barça. Fucking el clásico. It’s my fucking birthday!” Gonzalo is enraged, he just can’t hold back right now. He’s angry; he wants to let off steam. And poor Leo walked in on him in the wrong moment. Definitely the wrong moment.
“I know, Pip, I’m sorry”, Leo mumbled, trying to get Gonzalo to listen to him.
“I’m sorry, I am just soooo sorry”, Gonzalo imitates Leo. “It’s just that I am Barça and we just always win, I can’t do anything about it. I don’t even want it, it just happens because we’re so awesome and wonderful, no one can beat us ever”, he speaks in a clearly sarcastic voice and by the end of his monologue, he can’t hide the bitterness anymore but he continues anyway. “We’re the best club of the world, nobody can beat us and now we’re off to Japan to win the FIFA Club World Cup and-” Before he can go on ranting about Barcelona, Leo interrupts him.
“I really am. I hate the clásicos, I really do. I don’t want them to be between our clubs, I don’t want to play them, I don’t want them to exist! Everything’s always about this one game, like it were the one to decide the league!” Leo’s voice got louder and louder while he spoke. Gonzalo was slightly surprised. He couldn’t remember the last time when Leo had talked so loud to anyone or so much at once-not counting the one time when the whole national team had been ridiculously drunk and Leo… well, Leo had started singing the national anthem standing on a table and holding an empty bottle of beer in his hand as a microphone.
“I’m just so angry”, Gonzalo said and left the sentence hanging between them.
“I know, I understand. I feel the same when we lose”, Leo answers calmly.
“You just never lose against us.”
Leo nods slowly, then stopped. “But there was the Copa del Rey final. You won, Ronaldo’s goal in the extra time saved your ass.”
“Yeah, that was quite a game”, Gonzalo says. “The only one we won.”
“I just came here to make sure you were okay. Because, we’re friends and stuff, and it’s your birthday and I just wanted to congratulate you. I wanted to before the game, but it didn’t really work out”, Leo changes the topic.
“Thank you. For coming here, I mean. I guess you really shouldn’t be here right now, with me, the loser; you should be celebrating with your team”, Gonzalo says.
“Yeah, probably. But I talked to Pep and he allowed me to go for an hour. Well, there are only thirty minutes left now, then I have to go to catch the plane. It was just important to me to talk to you for a few minutes.” He looks Gonzalo coyly in the eye.
“Thanks Leo, I really appreciate it”, Gonzalo responds, smiling at Leo. “In your place, I wouldn’t have wanted to see me right now, I can get pretty nasty, you know. Especially after a loss, I get really insufferable. And sometimes I destroy things. There was a lamp on my bedside table until after the game against Levante. I might have thrown a shoe at it.” He chuckled, remembering how angry he had been and how hysterical he was after destroying the lamp. He had howled and yelled and cried until he sank down on his bed exhausted and fell asleep.
“I guess I should call myself lucky I’m still alive then”, Leo states sincerely before he starts laughing.
After a questioning look by Gonzalo, he gasped: “I just imagine… you going absolutely mad… after a loss… running around breaking things”, making always pauses while talking because he couldn’t stop his laughter.
Gonzalo smiles sourly and says: “Yeah, I’m that funny, right.”
“Don’t you have to go to the airport?” Gonzalo asks after Leo calmed down.
He shrugs. “I still have a few more minutes, but I guess I should call a taxi.”
They call a taxi and when it arrives ten minutes later, Gonzalo embraces Leo and buries his nose in the smaller Argentine’s hair.
“Good luck in Japan. I want you to win, but don’t tell anybody else, okay?” He grins at Leo as he leans down and plants a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks Pip”, Leo answers. “Good luck with your games too.”
With that, he turns around and leaves the house, waving at Gonzalo. As the taxi drives away, Gonzalo closes the door and leans against it, smiling.
Leo had his way around him that always made him feel better.
---
After the clásico, I wanted to write about it, don't ask me why :)
Also, this turned out a little different than it was supposed to, but well. Don't want to change it anymore.
Pairing: Gonzalo Higuaín x Lionel Messi
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1.210
Disclaimer: I don’t know them, they’re not mine.
Warning: This is not even PG-13, I think. It’s so innocent. Other things: English is not my first language, so sometimes I’m not sure if the expressions I use are correct since I don’t have a beta.
Content: After el clásico, Gonzalo is angry.
He just comes out of the shower when he hears the doorbell ring. Not even bothering to open the door, Gonzalo goes straight to the living room, lying down on the couch and closing his eyes.
This just can’t be happening again. They just can’t lose again against fucking Barcelona. After all, it’s his birthday. His fucking 24th birthday. And it had to be ruined. By fucking Barça, just to make matters worse. They had lost fucking el clásico on his birthday. He’s just so angry, he doesn’t think he can manage all this frustration in him right now. So he tries to stay calm, tries really hard, breathes deeply in and out again, keeps his eyes closed. Breathes again. It doesn’t work. Groaning, he reopens his eyes and stares at the ceiling.
That’s when he hears the doorbell ring again. Without thinking about who it might be-everyone who knew where he lived should also know that right now wasn’t a good moment to stop by for a chat, not now, not in the middle of the night, not after he has just el clásico-he shouts, the anger still apparent in his voice. “Fuck off!” He still doesn’t bother getting up and maybe opening the door anyways.
“Pipita!” Gonzalo hears a voice calling his name and fists drumming against the front door.
“Just leave”, he yells, but sits up slowly. He definitely knows this voice, he just couldn’t figure out who it was right now.
“Gonzalo, open the door! I have to talk to you, now. And they only gave me an hour before the plane leaves for Japan!” Now he knows who’s there standing in front of his door, waiting to be let in. It is Leo, of course. Who else would dare coming to talk to him now? After all, Leo’s social skills are not that developed.
He gets up slowly, walks to the door and opens it hesitantly. He isn’t quite sure if he really can take talking to Leo right now-even though they’re friends and get along quite well during national call-ups-he’s still the enemy. But he can’t be worse now, can he?
Leo smiles shyly at him when he walks into Gonzalo’s house. That’s more how he knows Leo-shy, quiet. The whole banging-at-the-door-and-yelling-thing is not a typical thing for him; it’s a rarity that he even speaks up. He offers Leo something to drink and goes back into the living room, slumping down on the couch again. Leo slowly sits down next to him, not really knowing what to do.
“Fuck you, Leo. Fuck you and your stupid Barça. Fucking el clásico. It’s my fucking birthday!” Gonzalo is enraged, he just can’t hold back right now. He’s angry; he wants to let off steam. And poor Leo walked in on him in the wrong moment. Definitely the wrong moment.
“I know, Pip, I’m sorry”, Leo mumbled, trying to get Gonzalo to listen to him.
“I’m sorry, I am just soooo sorry”, Gonzalo imitates Leo. “It’s just that I am Barça and we just always win, I can’t do anything about it. I don’t even want it, it just happens because we’re so awesome and wonderful, no one can beat us ever”, he speaks in a clearly sarcastic voice and by the end of his monologue, he can’t hide the bitterness anymore but he continues anyway. “We’re the best club of the world, nobody can beat us and now we’re off to Japan to win the FIFA Club World Cup and-” Before he can go on ranting about Barcelona, Leo interrupts him.
“I really am. I hate the clásicos, I really do. I don’t want them to be between our clubs, I don’t want to play them, I don’t want them to exist! Everything’s always about this one game, like it were the one to decide the league!” Leo’s voice got louder and louder while he spoke. Gonzalo was slightly surprised. He couldn’t remember the last time when Leo had talked so loud to anyone or so much at once-not counting the one time when the whole national team had been ridiculously drunk and Leo… well, Leo had started singing the national anthem standing on a table and holding an empty bottle of beer in his hand as a microphone.
“I’m just so angry”, Gonzalo said and left the sentence hanging between them.
“I know, I understand. I feel the same when we lose”, Leo answers calmly.
“You just never lose against us.”
Leo nods slowly, then stopped. “But there was the Copa del Rey final. You won, Ronaldo’s goal in the extra time saved your ass.”
“Yeah, that was quite a game”, Gonzalo says. “The only one we won.”
“I just came here to make sure you were okay. Because, we’re friends and stuff, and it’s your birthday and I just wanted to congratulate you. I wanted to before the game, but it didn’t really work out”, Leo changes the topic.
“Thank you. For coming here, I mean. I guess you really shouldn’t be here right now, with me, the loser; you should be celebrating with your team”, Gonzalo says.
“Yeah, probably. But I talked to Pep and he allowed me to go for an hour. Well, there are only thirty minutes left now, then I have to go to catch the plane. It was just important to me to talk to you for a few minutes.” He looks Gonzalo coyly in the eye.
“Thanks Leo, I really appreciate it”, Gonzalo responds, smiling at Leo. “In your place, I wouldn’t have wanted to see me right now, I can get pretty nasty, you know. Especially after a loss, I get really insufferable. And sometimes I destroy things. There was a lamp on my bedside table until after the game against Levante. I might have thrown a shoe at it.” He chuckled, remembering how angry he had been and how hysterical he was after destroying the lamp. He had howled and yelled and cried until he sank down on his bed exhausted and fell asleep.
“I guess I should call myself lucky I’m still alive then”, Leo states sincerely before he starts laughing.
After a questioning look by Gonzalo, he gasped: “I just imagine… you going absolutely mad… after a loss… running around breaking things”, making always pauses while talking because he couldn’t stop his laughter.
Gonzalo smiles sourly and says: “Yeah, I’m that funny, right.”
“Don’t you have to go to the airport?” Gonzalo asks after Leo calmed down.
He shrugs. “I still have a few more minutes, but I guess I should call a taxi.”
They call a taxi and when it arrives ten minutes later, Gonzalo embraces Leo and buries his nose in the smaller Argentine’s hair.
“Good luck in Japan. I want you to win, but don’t tell anybody else, okay?” He grins at Leo as he leans down and plants a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks Pip”, Leo answers. “Good luck with your games too.”
With that, he turns around and leaves the house, waving at Gonzalo. As the taxi drives away, Gonzalo closes the door and leans against it, smiling.
Leo had his way around him that always made him feel better.
---
After the clásico, I wanted to write about it, don't ask me why :)
Also, this turned out a little different than it was supposed to, but well. Don't want to change it anymore.