After The Clouds
Title: After the Clouds
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2402
Summary: Sometimes the best things come from the worst.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, or receive anything from it other than writing joy.
AN: Just a more light, fun little one shot/ potential story to keep me sane during Stockholm Syndrome. Got my inspiration the other day from my friend watching 50 First Dates. Hope you like it, it makes very little sense.
Every day started the same for Sergio Ramos.
He got up early and made breakfast for two. He loved cooking, especially when it was not just for him, and for the past year or so he had been able to. It was awful in a way that he had thrived so well from such an awful accident, but he couldn’t help enjoying the pleasure it brought him.
Whilst flipping over the pancake in the frying pan a small tingle of unease dawned on him, as it did every day, as to whether today would be the day it started over again, and he would have to spend a large portion of his morning calming down his very confused and frightened partner, but he was so used to having to explain everything these days, the feeling lasted no time at all.
The cry from the bedroom pulled him out of his thoughts, and he immediately turned off the gas, leaving the half cooked pancake to get overdone on the residual heat, a ruined pancake was the least of his concerns right now though.
He raced up the stairs and threw open the door, going in immediately, to wrap his arms around a scared looking Fernando Torres.
“It’s alright, Nando, It’s Sergio,” he told him, in a soft voice.
“Sergio... what are you doing in London? What is going on? Why am I here?” He asked, a thousand questions probably flooding his mind.
Sergio stroked his head, pleased Fernando was not pulling away, some days it was harder.
“We’re not in London, Fer, we’re in Madrid,” Sergio explained, in his most calm and patient voice, pulling back from Fernando, but keeping the light contact.
“Why am I in Madrid? What happened to the match? Did we win?” Sergio smiled at that, trust Fernando to think about football first above his own well being.
“Chelsea won the match yes, and went on to win the league,” he informed, stroking Fernando’s shoulder softly,
“Win the league? But there are months left of the league,” Fernando shook his head, eyes confused and glassy as he tried to think back, “Did something happen?”
“You have to promise me not to freak out? Okay?” Sergio requested, biting the inside of his mouth whilst waiting for Nando to nod. This bit was always tricky, “You were in an accident, during the match, you tripped whilst receiving a corner and you hit your head on the post, the match was about a year ago now,” Sergio explained, nodding, hoping this time Fernando believed him, sometimes he did, other times he did not.
“I have been unconscious for a year?” He asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow in quasi disbelief, it was rather unbelievable, which was all well, for it not being the whole truth.
“Not exactly, the knock damaged the part of your brain that controls memory... so every now and then, you lose everything since the accident happened,” Sergio didn’t bother going into much detail, knowing it was fairly pointless.
“Is this a joke?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Sergio reached for the remote for the TV on the wall of the bedroom, telling him to look at the date of the news program.
“I’d not be able to get the news to publish a fake date, just for the sake of playing a trick on you, would I? How would I know you’d wake up without knowing where you were?” He reached for Fernando’s hand and laced their fingers together.
“I suppose not...” Fernando started, shaking his head and then, he looked down to their joined hands and blinked before realisation seemed to dawn, “What are you doing? Are we? What?” he stuttered ineloquently.
“A few weeks after it happened I started looking after you, and well... as you can see you’re naked in my bed,” as he spoke he saw Fernando glance down and then do a double take, as if he had thought Sergio would be joking. He went bright red, and moved to cover himself, but Sergio held his hand fast, this part he never minded these days, “I have always been in love with you Nando, ever since I met you... and now, we’re happy, you and I, trust me.”
Fernando looked blank for a moment, before nodding, smiling and gripping his hand in reply. The smile was as blinding as it had been when Sergio had first seen it when they had got together.
Sergio grinned back, running his free hand through his short hair and bringing Fernando’s hand up to his to kiss softly, not wanting to move too fast. Whenever he needed to explain the situation to the unfortunate other, it seemed to get easier. Sergio liked to think that somewhere in Fernando’s brain he did remember their time together, and everything they’d done to get to this point, and was fairly certain he could innately recall the emotions at least. Maybe even one day, he’d not have to explain, and Fernando would stop forgetting, but he knew it was too soon to say for sure.
The smile in Fernando’s eyes dropped though, and the smile on his lips did not last much longer, “What about Ollala? What about my children?” his voice was small, as if in the back of his mind he feared the answer. Even with the memory loss, Fernando was very smart, he could put two and two together every time and always get four. He had to know that if he had any kind of a relationship with Sergio, he couldn’t still have on with his wife. Ex wife.
“It has been hard... Ollala had the kids to look after too, it was a bit much for her, having to deal with...” he made a vague wave at Fernando with his free hand and placed the other round gradually slumping shoulders to give him physical comfort, “When she said she couldn’t handle it... I offered, I don’t have children, and live alone. She did her best, Fer, but it really wasn’t easy for her. They all live here in Madrid, you see Nora and Leo all the time, you’re always in their lives, in fact, they’re coming over for dinner this evening, you won’t believe how big Leo has gotten, he’s looking more and more like you by the day.” Sergio said, leaning over to Fernando’s bedside table to open a draw, getting out a picture of Nora and Leo, “See.”
A slightly shaky hand took the picture from Sergio and long thin fingers traced over the faces of the little girl and boy that Sergio had come to love as if they were his own relations. Fernando smiled then, though it was somehow watery, “They both look so big... I don’t remember them being this big,”
“You will do, when you see them for yourself. But before that, we have training to get to, and breakfast to eat,” Sergio said with a grin, looking at Fernando reacquainting himself with the images of his kids, “but not in that order.”
As if on cue, an alarm went off, and Sergio cursed, jumping up off the bed and rushing to the kitchen, pausing at the bedroom door to throw a grin back at Fernando, “Come through when you’re ready!”
After ridding the kitchen of as much smoke as possible, and discarding the ruined pancake, Sergio carried on fixing up the rest of breakfast, feeling happy with himself that he had successfully managed another amnesia bout. He didn’t know if he was getting better at it, or if indeed, Fernando was just remembering more at the back of him mind, but it made him happier than he could say, the past nine months of living with Fernando had been some of the best of his life, though had contained a spattering of days he would much rather forget.
The table was already set when Fernando appeared, still holding the picture of Nora and Leo. He’d just put on a pair of full length pyjama bottoms and left the top off, so he must have felt comfortable to at least a fair degree. Sergio looked at his muscular torso and swallowed, if anything having Fernando had only made him want the other more. The reality was better than any fiction he’d ever imagined.
“It smells good,” the striker commented as he sat down, laying the picture next to his glass on the table so he could eat and still look at it.
“You should smell it when it’s not burnt,” came Sergio’s comical reply, which caused the corners of Fernando’s mouth to curl up in a shy smile, “Help yourself,”
He did, to an impressive degree, Sergio, with his own memory lapse, always seemed to forget how much Nando packed away after he forgot, it was as if his brain had forgotten that he had eaten at all since the accident.
Six pancakes later, Fernando spoke again, leaning back in his chair, “This isn’t the house I remember you living in... it’s smaller? With less... tat?” the light dancing in his eyes at the dig gave Sergio butterflies, and he wanted to just go over and kiss him, but it was best to take it slow.
“This isn’t my house... it’s ours, we moved about six months ago and you had more than your fair say in the decoration of it, if one thing has not changed in our relationship, it is you always getting your way, I have one room that I got complete say in, the rest of the house is essentially yours,” Sergio explained, with a half pout and a roll of his eyes.
“I thought it looked very tasteful,” Fernando shot back, with a smirk over some orange juice he’d picked up, and Sergio wanted to kiss the look away, Fernando couldn’t know yet the feelings it inspired in him.
“You haven’t even seen the best part yet,” Sergio stood up and took Fernando’s hand, pulling him after him and out some sliding glass doors onto a veranda, overlooking their sloping garden, finishing with a breathtaking view of Madrid in the early morning sun. He heard Fernando gasp, and felt him move away to brace himself on the fence separating the decking from the grass.
“Wow,” he sounded breathless, and shook his head. This was always Sergio’s favourite thing to remind him off, because it was something new, something that didn’t come accompanied with the struggle to try and remember. Sergio got to see the look of new found wonderment every time, because it was as if Fernando was discovering their view for the first time again.
He moved behind the awestruck man and wrapped him in a close embrace, his heart jumping as he felt Fernando lean back and relax against him, becoming liquid in his arms. He decided to dare a bit, and leaned his head down to rest his chin on the blonde’s shoulder, turning his face to kiss the side of his neck. He froze when he felt Fernando shudder, but breathed a sigh of relief when smooth arms covered his own as Fernando made an effort to hold him back.
“I don’t know what I have with you, Sese, but I can tell that it’s wonderful,”
“Yes, it is wonderful,” Sergio confirmed with a whisper, and kissed Fernando’s neck again. Fernando turned his head then and pressed his lips to Sergio’s, turning in his arms and putting his own around Sergio’s shoulders, drawing them close together again. He deepened the kiss, and moaned softly when Sergio ran a hand through his hair, pulling on it slightly, to tilt his head back.
After a moment, Fernando pulled back slightly, keeping their foreheads together. He breathed in deeply and exhaled, long and hard, as if it were too much for him. He was not alone in that.
“That was our first kiss, but it felt like our thousandth...”
“It’s the one thing we have in common, when you forget... because whenever I kiss you, it feels like the first time for me too,” he laughed softly and a moment later, so did Fernando, a strong full laugh, accompanied with an incredulous shake of his head.
A hand suddenly pushed Sergio back slightly and Fernando laughed again, “There is the cheesy Sergio Ramos I remember, you need some wine with it?” He asked, and moved round Sergio back into the house.
Sergio looked after him as he re-entered the safety of the house they owned together, but didn’t follow right away. He wanted to give Fernando space to get used to the surroundings.
When he did enter again, he found Fernando lounging on the Sofa in the main sitting room, where they entertained friends when they came round, it was a nice, formal living area, with a fire place, it had a forest green leather theme to it, that had reminded Fernando of London when he’d chosen it. Sergio was surprised Fernando had decided on this room to go to, but then again, his favourite room always did seem to change with every passing phase.
“You mentioned that we had training. I still manage to play football?”
“From the womb to the tomb, Fernando Jose Torres Sanz is a brilliant footballer, it is fairly impressive, even when you don’t remember training with your new teammates, you seem to just, get the formations after you’ve been shown them again, you team up so well with the midfielders too, if your doctor wasn’t so nice, he said he would have run tests on it. Luckily, he is so nice.” Sergio explained and threw a white and blue training shirt at Fernando with a grin.
Fernando spread it out with a look of sheer and utter confusion, and Sergio couldn’t help the cheeky grin appearing on his face when Fernando looked at him for an explanation, his fingers trailing over the small nine just by the neck before it travelled down to the black BWIN logo.
“I never said what club in Madrid you played for...” Sergio started, trying to ease the blow, as the colour faded from Fernando’s face to be replaced with a look of pure horror, his fist clenching. He couldn’t help but snigger slightly as the confusion turned to shock and the blond’s fist constricted more around the number on the shirt, creasing it and hiding it completely from Sergio’s view.
“What?!”