Day 8
Title: 5 Times Cesc Fàbregas Wondered if the NT Really Liked Him
Characters: Random members of La Selección
Word Count: 984.
Rating: PG. Swearing, but that's about it.
Disclaimer: Not true. Never met them, don’t own them, etc, etc. You know the drill.
Author’s Notes: Awesome. Not the fic, I meant my ability to actually manage to keep this below 1,000 words. Let me assure you all, writing emo!Cesc is no fun at all. Which is why I cheated for the last one. And yes, I'm sorry for emo!fic for the second day in a row.
1. Cesc was actually quite used to them telling him to shut (the fuck) up (, Cesc!) and threatening to kill him. It all just went right over his head. But it was something else altogether when they talked about him when he wasn’t around.
“I’m so tired. Stupid Cesc. I swear, international duty is now code for, Arsenal is sick of him, now someone else needs to take them off their hands so they get a break.”
Cesc’s shoulders droop. He turns around, and quietly sneaks away before they notice him.
“Sure he’s a handful, but he makes everything fun. It’s like being a kid again.”
“It’s like having a kid.”
“Íker!”
“What? He’s my mocoso. I say everything with love.”
Cesc was, unfortunately, too busy drowning his sorrows with chocolate milk to hear any of that.
2. Cesc very rarely gets sick, and when he does, it’s bad. So when he gets sick during international duty, he chooses to stay curled up in bed. All he really wanted was to be left alone.
But they didn’t have to make fun of him. Of how his ‘N’s were ‘D’s now, so when he said, “No, leave me alone” it become, “Doh, leave me alode!” (to which Nando replied, “Leave you a load of what?” with a smug face). They didn’t need to make fun of how he could barely speak without coughing. Or his puffy eyes. He was miserable enough as it was.
So he does the only thing he can think. He calls him mother, tells her he’s sick, and then when she says, “Oh, hijo” Cesc Fàbregas promptly bursts into tears.
3. All he had wanted was for someone to get some ice cream with him.
A simple 'no' would have sufficed. They didn’t need to tell him to “fuck off” or to stick things in bad places. A “No, Cesc” would have been fine.
Cesc meant to call Robin, to complain, to tell Robin to make him feel better. To make everyone stop being mean to him.
“Hello?”
Cesc freezes. He hadn’t expected that voice.
“Cesc? I know it’s you. I have caller I.D. too. I’m not that old.”
Cesc can’t seem to find his voice. He shamefully realizes that he hasn’t heard his voice in a long time. He’s seen him play games, but Cesc has missed his voice.
“Cesc, I’m starting to get worried.”
Cesc thinks of the thousands of things he wants to tell him. How he’s been scoring goals, how he almost always gets playing time with the NT, how he might get a starting position next time. He wants to tell him the boys are being mean to him, and that he wonders sometimes if they actually like him or not.
Instead he says, “I miss you, Raúl.”
4. When he turned twenty and no one called.
Not even Xabi.
He gloomily accepted the birthday greetings from his Arsenal teammates, but he kept his eye on his phone the entire night. He figured at least one of them would call.
He chooses to stay at home and watch TV. But not even Eva Longoria could make him smile.
And he ends up passed out on his couch, holding his phone in his hand. Twenty years old and seemingly unimportant to his country.
5. “Sorry I missed your birthday.”
Cesc doesn’t say anything. He just looks out the window, silently.
“Cesc. Come on. You can’t be that mad at me. I mean, you agreed to come.”
“Robin made me,” Cesc replies, sulkily.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was busy. It just slipped my mind.”
“I’ve never forgotten your birthday.”
Xabi sighs. “I know.” After Cesc doesn’t say anything, he says, “But I’m here now, right?”
Cesc says nothing.
*
Cesc’s jaw drops when he sees his national teammates scattered around the room.
“No, Nando, it would not be ‘the funniest thing ever’ if we added an ‘A’ to the end of his name,” Sergio is saying, while bent over a banner.
“Yes, it would! Francesca! See?” Fernando looks pleased with himself.
“I hate this fucking weather,” Íker complains, looking grumpy.
Cesc looks at Xabi. “What’s going on?”
Xabi looks puzzled. “Uhmm, it’s supposed to be a surprise party.”
Sergio turns around then and squeaks when he sees them. “Oh no!” He grabs the banner and yells out, “Happy birthday, Cesc!”
That’s when everyone notices the two of them, and they all call out “Happy Birthday!” at different times.
Sergio turns around to face them all. “You guys suck so much! We practiced saying it in unison ten times!” He throws them a disgusted look and moves towards Cesc. “Happy birthday, amado. I’m sorry your party sucks.” He throws the team another dirty look over his shoulder.
Cesc stares at them.
“Wow, he’s actually speechless,” Fernando says. “That’s a first.”
Finally he says, “I thought you guys forgot.”
Raúl looks annoyed. “I told you at least one of us should have called him.”
“Of course we didn’t forget,” Xavi says.
“Yeah, Sergio’s been planning this for months.” David rolls his eyes.
Sergio glares at him. “And you guys still managed to mess it up.” He grabs Fernando’s arm. “Come help me bring out the cake.”
Cesc perks up. “There’s cake? No one ever gets me cake.”
“A big cake,” Joaquín says. “Almost as big as a wedding cake. Sergio insisted. Says we could all afford it. I don’t even like chocolate cake.”
“Chocolate cake?” Cesc looks excited.
Íker frowns. “How could you think we forgot? You’re…” He gestures towards Cesc. “You know…you’re…you’re our mocoso.”
Raúl looks amused. “Careful, Íker, you’re dangerously close to sounding like you actually like him.”
Íker growls in response. “Do not.”
But Cesc isn’t paying attention anymore because, “CAKE!” And with that, Cesc forgets that only minutes ago, he was silently wondering what he’d done to make his teammates dislike him so much.
Characters: Random members of La Selección
Word Count: 984.
Rating: PG. Swearing, but that's about it.
Disclaimer: Not true. Never met them, don’t own them, etc, etc. You know the drill.
Author’s Notes: Awesome. Not the fic, I meant my ability to actually manage to keep this below 1,000 words. Let me assure you all, writing emo!Cesc is no fun at all. Which is why I cheated for the last one. And yes, I'm sorry for emo!fic for the second day in a row.
1. Cesc was actually quite used to them telling him to shut (the fuck) up (, Cesc!) and threatening to kill him. It all just went right over his head. But it was something else altogether when they talked about him when he wasn’t around.
“I’m so tired. Stupid Cesc. I swear, international duty is now code for, Arsenal is sick of him, now someone else needs to take them off their hands so they get a break.”
Cesc’s shoulders droop. He turns around, and quietly sneaks away before they notice him.
“Sure he’s a handful, but he makes everything fun. It’s like being a kid again.”
“It’s like having a kid.”
“Íker!”
“What? He’s my mocoso. I say everything with love.”
Cesc was, unfortunately, too busy drowning his sorrows with chocolate milk to hear any of that.
2. Cesc very rarely gets sick, and when he does, it’s bad. So when he gets sick during international duty, he chooses to stay curled up in bed. All he really wanted was to be left alone.
But they didn’t have to make fun of him. Of how his ‘N’s were ‘D’s now, so when he said, “No, leave me alone” it become, “Doh, leave me alode!” (to which Nando replied, “Leave you a load of what?” with a smug face). They didn’t need to make fun of how he could barely speak without coughing. Or his puffy eyes. He was miserable enough as it was.
So he does the only thing he can think. He calls him mother, tells her he’s sick, and then when she says, “Oh, hijo” Cesc Fàbregas promptly bursts into tears.
3. All he had wanted was for someone to get some ice cream with him.
A simple 'no' would have sufficed. They didn’t need to tell him to “fuck off” or to stick things in bad places. A “No, Cesc” would have been fine.
Cesc meant to call Robin, to complain, to tell Robin to make him feel better. To make everyone stop being mean to him.
“Hello?”
Cesc freezes. He hadn’t expected that voice.
“Cesc? I know it’s you. I have caller I.D. too. I’m not that old.”
Cesc can’t seem to find his voice. He shamefully realizes that he hasn’t heard his voice in a long time. He’s seen him play games, but Cesc has missed his voice.
“Cesc, I’m starting to get worried.”
Cesc thinks of the thousands of things he wants to tell him. How he’s been scoring goals, how he almost always gets playing time with the NT, how he might get a starting position next time. He wants to tell him the boys are being mean to him, and that he wonders sometimes if they actually like him or not.
Instead he says, “I miss you, Raúl.”
4. When he turned twenty and no one called.
Not even Xabi.
He gloomily accepted the birthday greetings from his Arsenal teammates, but he kept his eye on his phone the entire night. He figured at least one of them would call.
He chooses to stay at home and watch TV. But not even Eva Longoria could make him smile.
And he ends up passed out on his couch, holding his phone in his hand. Twenty years old and seemingly unimportant to his country.
5. “Sorry I missed your birthday.”
Cesc doesn’t say anything. He just looks out the window, silently.
“Cesc. Come on. You can’t be that mad at me. I mean, you agreed to come.”
“Robin made me,” Cesc replies, sulkily.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was busy. It just slipped my mind.”
“I’ve never forgotten your birthday.”
Xabi sighs. “I know.” After Cesc doesn’t say anything, he says, “But I’m here now, right?”
Cesc says nothing.
*
Cesc’s jaw drops when he sees his national teammates scattered around the room.
“No, Nando, it would not be ‘the funniest thing ever’ if we added an ‘A’ to the end of his name,” Sergio is saying, while bent over a banner.
“Yes, it would! Francesca! See?” Fernando looks pleased with himself.
“I hate this fucking weather,” Íker complains, looking grumpy.
Cesc looks at Xabi. “What’s going on?”
Xabi looks puzzled. “Uhmm, it’s supposed to be a surprise party.”
Sergio turns around then and squeaks when he sees them. “Oh no!” He grabs the banner and yells out, “Happy birthday, Cesc!”
That’s when everyone notices the two of them, and they all call out “Happy Birthday!” at different times.
Sergio turns around to face them all. “You guys suck so much! We practiced saying it in unison ten times!” He throws them a disgusted look and moves towards Cesc. “Happy birthday, amado. I’m sorry your party sucks.” He throws the team another dirty look over his shoulder.
Cesc stares at them.
“Wow, he’s actually speechless,” Fernando says. “That’s a first.”
Finally he says, “I thought you guys forgot.”
Raúl looks annoyed. “I told you at least one of us should have called him.”
“Of course we didn’t forget,” Xavi says.
“Yeah, Sergio’s been planning this for months.” David rolls his eyes.
Sergio glares at him. “And you guys still managed to mess it up.” He grabs Fernando’s arm. “Come help me bring out the cake.”
Cesc perks up. “There’s cake? No one ever gets me cake.”
“A big cake,” Joaquín says. “Almost as big as a wedding cake. Sergio insisted. Says we could all afford it. I don’t even like chocolate cake.”
“Chocolate cake?” Cesc looks excited.
Íker frowns. “How could you think we forgot? You’re…” He gestures towards Cesc. “You know…you’re…you’re our mocoso.”
Raúl looks amused. “Careful, Íker, you’re dangerously close to sounding like you actually like him.”
Íker growls in response. “Do not.”
But Cesc isn’t paying attention anymore because, “CAKE!” And with that, Cesc forgets that only minutes ago, he was silently wondering what he’d done to make his teammates dislike him so much.