tired and wired, we ruin too easy.
tired and wired, we ruin too easy
Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso. 1,802 words. AU where Xabi's a lawyer and Steven's a professor, and it's almost but not quite perfect.
For diskarte. Merry Christmas, Nadine. ♥
It doesn't feel like three years most of the time. Sometimes, it hits him unexpectedly, when he's at his desk, in the shower, stuck at a red light...and he wonders how they got here. Of course, the technicalities are pretty simple. They met at a Christmas party at the university. Pepe had invited him, citing his loneliness ('I'm not lonely, Pepe'), and 'it's Christmas' and 'maybe you'll meet someone.' He hadn't really been convinced by any of the three, but he had gone, because arguing with Pepe was the alternative. Pepe went to law school with him, and he teaches now, because according to him he prefers giving back as opposed to making himself rich by exploiting lesser mortals on the behalf of corporate dicks (to which Xabi usually responds non-verbally but quite clearly). Pepe can be quite manipulative himself though, which he'd quickly remembered about five minutes into the party. He'd introduced him to the new English professor (who conveniently didn't really know anyone yet either), and then invented some urgent business to discuss with his department head. So they were alone. And the rest is not only history, but Pepe will never let them forget that it was all because of him. So they have to live with that forever. (They used to joke that they'd break up just so he'd stop gloating. They don't joke about that anymore though.)
Their first real date was two days after that. They'd had sex before their second date, very enjoyable but punctuated by Xabi saying over and over, 'I don't ever do this, I swear.' Luckily, Steven started replying 'just be quiet' pretty quickly. They'd moved in together in six months, getting a modern, chic apartment, perfectly located the same distance between campus and downtown where the firm is. It didn't feel rushed at all. It was all rather perfect, and Xabi had never been happier. He hadn't thought anything like this would ever happen, much less right at that moment. And yeah, he was focusing on his career, but sometimes you have to go with your gut. Steven says that a lot, actually. So their lives had merged into one, law books on the coffee table alongside poetry, Goodfellas sharing the same shelf with Casablanca, and Xabi...Xabi finding out he was lonely all this time. It's strange, the way you only realise a hole was there after it's been filled.
It's not all roses and sunshine though. But they deal with it. They deal with each other's bad habits and stubborn families and Xabi's frat boy co-workers and Steven's bohemian friends who hang out in coffee shops smoking Marlboros and talking about Sartre. They deal with Pepe, who is a friend to both of them, and some other friends become their (collective) friends over time. There's Jamie, Steven's best friend, who claims he likes Xabi more within half an hour of meeting him and calls dibs on the best man position 'not if, but when' they get married. There's Fernando, the shy paralegal who thinks Xabi is some kind of rock star or something (Steven says it's 'cute'). There's Daniel, the grad student, who Steven's sort of taken under his wing (which he'll deny under duress, saying he's 'not Robin Williams, for fuck's sake' - with Pepe's help, Xabi gets everyone to start shouting 'o Captain, my Captain' at him after that).
Predictably, the real problem that emerges over time is work. Xabi's work, to be more specific. Because Steven knows how to manage his workload, and he takes even more care now that Xabi's there, and Xabi knows that, he knows, and he loves him for it, but - it's different. It's all he's ever wanted. And he knows it'll be hard, and long, and really fucking hard, but he has to do it. He has to be the best. He has to give one hundred and fifty percent all the time.
It's one of the most prestigious law firms in the country - and it's a big deal, and he knows Steven gets that - and he's on his way to making partner years before most associates even start to think about that. He still sees it though, that look. The look that last only a split second, but kind of pierces him to the bone. The look Steven gives him every time he gets home hours after he's supposed to, or leaves before dawn, or forgets a lunch date, or can't make it to a friend's party. It's the same one. And it started about a year ago. And they don't ever talk about it, because neither of them is very good at talking about their feelings. It's probably why they're so good together. But it's always there between them, between the exasperated sighs and the impatient nods, and it's going to get worse, Xabi knows. It's going to be a strain on their relationship for a long time. He's going to be one of those clichéd workaholics whose partner puts up with it for years and years, because he's strong and stoic and silent like that (and it's one of the reasons Xabi loves him so, so much), and then one day, he'll just be gone. He'll be gone, and they'll both know why, even if they don't say a word.
He doesn't want that. He doesn't. He wants to be at the top of his field, and he wants Steven. He wants to lay in bed all weekend and watch the footie, catch up on reading while Steven grades essays, feed each other grapes and cheese, do all the ridiculous, domestic stuff they always denied wanting. That's the cliché he wants, not the other one.
He made a decision a long time ago (a promise, to himself, to Steven, as silently as they've always communicated), and maybe time and life makes conviction fade gradually, but he won't forget it. And if there's one thing he's not, it's a liar.
He's not ever going to give him up.
*
It's December, and work always starts piling up on him in December, no matter how early he tries to get a head start. He's dreading it, and he knows Steven is too. Last Christmas, he pretty much made a complete mess of everything. Steven's parents were in town, and he'd promised him he'd be home for dinner, but he went in to the office for a couple hours and didn't come home until the next morning.
He'd just crawled into bed still dressed and whispered, 'I'm sorry' over and over into the back of his neck. Steven didn't say anything, and the next morning, it was like he was pretending it didn't happen.
He knows all of this pretending is going to fuck everything up eventually. It has to stop. They have to deal with it.
The semester ends and Steven's pretty swamped grading papers, so he decides he'll wait. He spends day and night at the office for a week; he hardly sees him at all. He wonders if trying so hard to fix this is what's going to ironically ruin it.
He comes in at 2am. Steven's still up, watching some nature show, all the lights in the apartment off. Xabi sighs, puts down his briefcase, shrugs off his jacket.
He sits down next to him on the couch.
"Hey," he says, more cautious than tender despite himself.
"Hey, stranger." He sounds calm, relaxed, but Xabi knows he's hiding his concerns. He decides to not push anything.
"How's the grading going?"
"Fine. Almost done, and I haven't put a pen through my eyeballs yet, so, all things considered... Work okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just finishing up some stuff before the holidays. It's no big deal."
"Okay."
And that's the end of it. Although not really.
*
Disaster strikes on Christmas Eve. There's a new development in the case, and he has to get the research done right away.
"I know that look," Steven says abruptly as he gets off the phone.
"I'm so, so sorry. I just - I have -"
"What if I said no?" And it's a tone he's never heard in his voice, vindictive, bitter.
"Steven -"
"I can't do that. I won't. And you know that. But what if I wanted to sometimes? Would you listen?"
"Of course. Of course I would. You can always tell me what you're feeling, Steven." And the game's over. They both realise it as they look at each other, open, vulnerable.
Steven looks away eventually, closes his eyes for a moment like he's tired. He finally opens them, looks back up at him.
"I just...I didn't want to be the needy boyfriend making you feel guilty when you have no reason to be."
"Steven, you've always been like that. You're just good at hiding it. And I've taken advantage of it instead of calling you out on it. I should feel guilty. And I do. I do every time I spend an extra minute away from you."
"Maybe we do need to talk about this then."
"Okay," Xabi accepts, calmly. "What do we need to talk about?"
"I'm afraid," Steven says softly, unable to look at him now.
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid that one day it won't be enough, like we thought it would be. One day I'll realise that it doesn't matter whether you're here or not, that I've relearned how to be alone without even knowing it."
"I'm afraid of that too," Xabi admits.
"I love you. But it's not just about what I feel. I need you too. I need you here."
"I know."
"Now I feel like a jackass."
"I know you do." Xabi smiles. "But you're not. You're just not used to asking for what you want."
"I want you. That's all. It used to be so simple."
"I'm trying. You know I'm trying. These few years...they're really important."
"I know that. I know. I just...I want you here. I want you here for the holidays. Even though it's probably fucking stupid and sentimental of me and a couple days don't really matter, I just want that."
"Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And I'm - I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry."
"Well, thank you, then. For putting up with all of this - putting up with me. When I've never even asked you if it was okay."
"Hey, you didn't have to." Steven reaches out to cup his neck, thumbs brushing over his face lightly. "You never had to. We're in this for the long haul, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, we are." Xabi curls his arms around Steven's waist, kisses him for a moment. Then he rests his head on his shoulder, lets Steven wrap his arms around him, pull him closer. He just lets his eyes fall shut, breathes in slowly, and they don't move for a long while.
Steven Gerrard/Xabi Alonso. 1,802 words. AU where Xabi's a lawyer and Steven's a professor, and it's almost but not quite perfect.
For diskarte. Merry Christmas, Nadine. ♥
It doesn't feel like three years most of the time. Sometimes, it hits him unexpectedly, when he's at his desk, in the shower, stuck at a red light...and he wonders how they got here. Of course, the technicalities are pretty simple. They met at a Christmas party at the university. Pepe had invited him, citing his loneliness ('I'm not lonely, Pepe'), and 'it's Christmas' and 'maybe you'll meet someone.' He hadn't really been convinced by any of the three, but he had gone, because arguing with Pepe was the alternative. Pepe went to law school with him, and he teaches now, because according to him he prefers giving back as opposed to making himself rich by exploiting lesser mortals on the behalf of corporate dicks (to which Xabi usually responds non-verbally but quite clearly). Pepe can be quite manipulative himself though, which he'd quickly remembered about five minutes into the party. He'd introduced him to the new English professor (who conveniently didn't really know anyone yet either), and then invented some urgent business to discuss with his department head. So they were alone. And the rest is not only history, but Pepe will never let them forget that it was all because of him. So they have to live with that forever. (They used to joke that they'd break up just so he'd stop gloating. They don't joke about that anymore though.)
Their first real date was two days after that. They'd had sex before their second date, very enjoyable but punctuated by Xabi saying over and over, 'I don't ever do this, I swear.' Luckily, Steven started replying 'just be quiet' pretty quickly. They'd moved in together in six months, getting a modern, chic apartment, perfectly located the same distance between campus and downtown where the firm is. It didn't feel rushed at all. It was all rather perfect, and Xabi had never been happier. He hadn't thought anything like this would ever happen, much less right at that moment. And yeah, he was focusing on his career, but sometimes you have to go with your gut. Steven says that a lot, actually. So their lives had merged into one, law books on the coffee table alongside poetry, Goodfellas sharing the same shelf with Casablanca, and Xabi...Xabi finding out he was lonely all this time. It's strange, the way you only realise a hole was there after it's been filled.
It's not all roses and sunshine though. But they deal with it. They deal with each other's bad habits and stubborn families and Xabi's frat boy co-workers and Steven's bohemian friends who hang out in coffee shops smoking Marlboros and talking about Sartre. They deal with Pepe, who is a friend to both of them, and some other friends become their (collective) friends over time. There's Jamie, Steven's best friend, who claims he likes Xabi more within half an hour of meeting him and calls dibs on the best man position 'not if, but when' they get married. There's Fernando, the shy paralegal who thinks Xabi is some kind of rock star or something (Steven says it's 'cute'). There's Daniel, the grad student, who Steven's sort of taken under his wing (which he'll deny under duress, saying he's 'not Robin Williams, for fuck's sake' - with Pepe's help, Xabi gets everyone to start shouting 'o Captain, my Captain' at him after that).
Predictably, the real problem that emerges over time is work. Xabi's work, to be more specific. Because Steven knows how to manage his workload, and he takes even more care now that Xabi's there, and Xabi knows that, he knows, and he loves him for it, but - it's different. It's all he's ever wanted. And he knows it'll be hard, and long, and really fucking hard, but he has to do it. He has to be the best. He has to give one hundred and fifty percent all the time.
It's one of the most prestigious law firms in the country - and it's a big deal, and he knows Steven gets that - and he's on his way to making partner years before most associates even start to think about that. He still sees it though, that look. The look that last only a split second, but kind of pierces him to the bone. The look Steven gives him every time he gets home hours after he's supposed to, or leaves before dawn, or forgets a lunch date, or can't make it to a friend's party. It's the same one. And it started about a year ago. And they don't ever talk about it, because neither of them is very good at talking about their feelings. It's probably why they're so good together. But it's always there between them, between the exasperated sighs and the impatient nods, and it's going to get worse, Xabi knows. It's going to be a strain on their relationship for a long time. He's going to be one of those clichéd workaholics whose partner puts up with it for years and years, because he's strong and stoic and silent like that (and it's one of the reasons Xabi loves him so, so much), and then one day, he'll just be gone. He'll be gone, and they'll both know why, even if they don't say a word.
He doesn't want that. He doesn't. He wants to be at the top of his field, and he wants Steven. He wants to lay in bed all weekend and watch the footie, catch up on reading while Steven grades essays, feed each other grapes and cheese, do all the ridiculous, domestic stuff they always denied wanting. That's the cliché he wants, not the other one.
He made a decision a long time ago (a promise, to himself, to Steven, as silently as they've always communicated), and maybe time and life makes conviction fade gradually, but he won't forget it. And if there's one thing he's not, it's a liar.
He's not ever going to give him up.
*
It's December, and work always starts piling up on him in December, no matter how early he tries to get a head start. He's dreading it, and he knows Steven is too. Last Christmas, he pretty much made a complete mess of everything. Steven's parents were in town, and he'd promised him he'd be home for dinner, but he went in to the office for a couple hours and didn't come home until the next morning.
He'd just crawled into bed still dressed and whispered, 'I'm sorry' over and over into the back of his neck. Steven didn't say anything, and the next morning, it was like he was pretending it didn't happen.
He knows all of this pretending is going to fuck everything up eventually. It has to stop. They have to deal with it.
The semester ends and Steven's pretty swamped grading papers, so he decides he'll wait. He spends day and night at the office for a week; he hardly sees him at all. He wonders if trying so hard to fix this is what's going to ironically ruin it.
He comes in at 2am. Steven's still up, watching some nature show, all the lights in the apartment off. Xabi sighs, puts down his briefcase, shrugs off his jacket.
He sits down next to him on the couch.
"Hey," he says, more cautious than tender despite himself.
"Hey, stranger." He sounds calm, relaxed, but Xabi knows he's hiding his concerns. He decides to not push anything.
"How's the grading going?"
"Fine. Almost done, and I haven't put a pen through my eyeballs yet, so, all things considered... Work okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just finishing up some stuff before the holidays. It's no big deal."
"Okay."
And that's the end of it. Although not really.
*
Disaster strikes on Christmas Eve. There's a new development in the case, and he has to get the research done right away.
"I know that look," Steven says abruptly as he gets off the phone.
"I'm so, so sorry. I just - I have -"
"What if I said no?" And it's a tone he's never heard in his voice, vindictive, bitter.
"Steven -"
"I can't do that. I won't. And you know that. But what if I wanted to sometimes? Would you listen?"
"Of course. Of course I would. You can always tell me what you're feeling, Steven." And the game's over. They both realise it as they look at each other, open, vulnerable.
Steven looks away eventually, closes his eyes for a moment like he's tired. He finally opens them, looks back up at him.
"I just...I didn't want to be the needy boyfriend making you feel guilty when you have no reason to be."
"Steven, you've always been like that. You're just good at hiding it. And I've taken advantage of it instead of calling you out on it. I should feel guilty. And I do. I do every time I spend an extra minute away from you."
"Maybe we do need to talk about this then."
"Okay," Xabi accepts, calmly. "What do we need to talk about?"
"I'm afraid," Steven says softly, unable to look at him now.
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid that one day it won't be enough, like we thought it would be. One day I'll realise that it doesn't matter whether you're here or not, that I've relearned how to be alone without even knowing it."
"I'm afraid of that too," Xabi admits.
"I love you. But it's not just about what I feel. I need you too. I need you here."
"I know."
"Now I feel like a jackass."
"I know you do." Xabi smiles. "But you're not. You're just not used to asking for what you want."
"I want you. That's all. It used to be so simple."
"I'm trying. You know I'm trying. These few years...they're really important."
"I know that. I know. I just...I want you here. I want you here for the holidays. Even though it's probably fucking stupid and sentimental of me and a couple days don't really matter, I just want that."
"Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And I'm - I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry."
"Well, thank you, then. For putting up with all of this - putting up with me. When I've never even asked you if it was okay."
"Hey, you didn't have to." Steven reaches out to cup his neck, thumbs brushing over his face lightly. "You never had to. We're in this for the long haul, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, we are." Xabi curls his arms around Steven's waist, kisses him for a moment. Then he rests his head on his shoulder, lets Steven wrap his arms around him, pull him closer. He just lets his eyes fall shut, breathes in slowly, and they don't move for a long while.