fic: like no one ever was
title: like no one ever was
pairing: iker casillas/sergio ramos
rated: r
warning: utter crack!fic
to belong, it's all we ever want
To be fair to the friends and family of Iker Casillas, Sergio spent an inordinate amount of time observing him. The attention was sometimes wanted, other times dreaded, but overall, Sergio’s constant regard was never acted upon. Sergio simply liked learning about Iker. They spent plenty of hours together during practice and matches, traveled from one part of Spain to the other and crossed oceans together. There was plenty of time to become closer, to know more, to learn everything about a person and then see that person grow, change, evolve into a leader. There was also part of Sergio fascinated by his captain that carried over from when he was young and watched this nineteen year old boy make save after heart-stopping save in the match that made his carrier. He had known Iker Casillas was special from that very moment. It was because of this reason, this lifelong fascination, this desire to know that Sergio watched Iker from across the room.
Most of the team had already disappeared after practice but others like Xabi, Sergio, and Cristiano dragged their feet a little in the dressing room. It was their time for scheduled pre-season interviews. Iker walked from the showers, sour mood heavy on his shoulders. He dried and dressed with short movements and slammed his locker shut with the palm of his hand.
There were other conversations going on, a rousing discussion of the zoo’s expansion and the best time to take kids. So, Sergio was the first to see a tiny ball of blue electricity pop from Iker’s finger tips and rattle up and down the metal. First and only, and like so many of Iker’s secrets he collected over the years, Sergio kept it to himself.
::
That is until a month later, when Iker’s temper went from forceful to aggressively patronizing.
Sergio jogged backwards, eyes on young winger who sprint past Albiol as if he were standing still. His steps quicken to a full sprint, rounding him just outside of the box. He dipped left, right, and Sergio’s foot clipped into his pass. The ball popped up sailing lazily into the air until Iker snatched down with a snarl.
“I know it’s not Arbeloa’s dick,” Iker growled when Albiol jogged up after play continued up the pitch. “But can you please fucking pay attention to the game?”
Raul blinked. “I.”
Iker’s head tilted. “You?”
Whatever Raul saw in Iker’s eyes was enough to snuff his retort. He said, “Will do better.”
“Good. Just because it’s an exhibition match doesn’t mean you can sleep walk through it.” Something like sparks fizzled at the tip of his nose which was impossible. It was impossible but Sergio saw them.
Sergio tried to catch Albiol’s gaze, sure he wasn’t alone this time, but he was already almost to the white line dividing both sides of the pitch. Something sharp tingled in the air, something quick that welled in Serigo’s mouth thick as blood. The sensation was familiar, but he couldn’t place it at the moment, not with Iker spinning on his heel to glare at him with hot eyes.
“Something interesting is happening in that direction, Ramos.” Iker extends his hand out towards the pitch as if he were inviting Sergio to join in the game.
Sergio gave him a thumbs up as he took off, just to be safe.
::
“I just mean. That was over the top, right?”
“It was. It was.” Arbeloa said while petting Raul’s thigh. His ears were still red from Iker’s snarling response after stopping him in the hallway an hour earlier about his comment on the pitch. “He shouldn’t have said that to you.”
Raul shifted to his side. His knees opened slowly allowing Arbeloa’s hand more room. “And he shouldn’t have said that to you,” he said.
“He shouldn’t be saying stuff like that to anyone,” said Xabi loudly. He didn’t like the direction their mutual sympathy party was going-horizontal. He was sitting on the same bed. “Someone needs to talk to him. Make sure he’s okay.”
“Why don’t you just go instead of telling us something should be done?”
“Because I haven’t pissed him off yet,” Xabi said.
“Coward.”
“No, just ensuring my survival,” Xabi said, smirking pointedly. “Like all the smart ones do. What do you think, Sergio?”
Sergio sat beside the window of the hotel room. The sky was one flat, black cloud frustrating the sun it hid. Slowly, the light faded and rain began pattering across the glass.
“Something is wrong with Iker.”
The three on the bed exchanged glances.
“It’s not just his attitude. He’s.” Sergio searched for a word to best describe the changes he’s noticed in Iker. “He’s different. He’s charging into everything now. He’s so angry. His diet is stricter, and he’s gone through two cellphones in the past month. And he’s wearing hats.”
“Ah, yes,” Xabi said. “The hats.”
Sergio’s pursed lips and slanted gaze inferred cutting bitches far better than any words. “Yes. The hats. It wasn’t even sunny today but he was wearing that straw fedora on the way out to lunch. And he’s back to wearing chinos two sizes too big and a jacket wrapped around his waist in August. What does he have to hide? His ass?” He continues before someone could make the obligatory fashion joke. “Then there’s all that static. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“It really doesn’t make any sense,” said Xabi after adding together facts Sergio collected in his head and discarding the seemingly random. “The static I mean. He’s shocking everyone left and right. Maybe he, he….” He was interrupted by a crack of light splitting the sky. Thunder slammed through the air behind the lightening hard and fast.
The lights flickered in and out, humming in protest, and then collapsed one by one into darkness.
“Shit.” Raul rolled upright. “That was close.”
Sergio’s shadow stood apart from the black sky. “I’m going to go talk to Iker.”
“The power just went out. You don’t need to be wandering around by yourself.”
Sergio was already crossing the room, determination in his every step. “He’s down the hall. It’s not like I have to take the elevator or something.”
He’d tried texting Iker since they unloaded from the bus first to invite him to dinner and then to watch movies with them, and finally to simply talk. He never received a reply. It wasn’t like Iker to completely ignore a person and he knew better than to ignore Sergio Ramos. Pride aside, Sergio felt genuine concern for Iker. He spent so much time setting himself apart from the team recently, giving a growling insult instead of his grudging smiles. He evaded any and all touch now because he really did seem to shock people all the time as if he had static curling under his skin, waiting. If it were merely the normal brooding, intractable mood Iker cycled into periodically, Sergio wouldn’t worry so much. It’s just that despite the fact he’s willfully closing off from everyone-not just the team, friends included-Iker seemed so lonely.
What hurt him so badly that he turned everyone away? What secret was so great loneliness was the only alternative? Sergio couldn’t imagine the answers Iker would give to these questions, but they were the ones waiting on the tip of his tongue as he pounded on the hotel room door.
“Iker?” He called for the fourth time, seriously worried now. He sent another message, wondering if he could take the stairs down to the lobby and find a way to override the lock. He lifted his fist to knock again when the door flew open. Sergio stared into the face of a very wet, very angry Iker Casillas illuminated by lamplight.
“What do you want, Ramos?”
“Ah. You. My texts,” Sergio said, skillfully stalling for time. He needed to regroup. He needed to take in the wet hair plastered to Iker’s forehead, the drops of water sliding down the tip of his sharp nose, and the rivulets running down to the white towel wrapped around his waist. Iker’s fist caught the loose ends tight in his fist. His skin pimpled and his nipples were sharp little points, and Sergio had points too, for being here and interrupting Iker. He just can’t remember them.
“Water’s running, Sergio. You need something?”
“Um.” Sergio looked into Iker’s room a second time. The television was on as well as the small lamp by Iker’s bed. Sergio glanced at the dark hallway to either side of him. “I came to check on you because the power went off.”
“Yeah?” Iker followed Sergio’s eyes up the hallway light above him that was clearly turned off. “Yeah. Mine have been flickering. Oh, look. They’re out now.”
Iker shifted backwards inviting Sergio to look past him. Gray shadows from the sky filling the room in the sudden absence of light. The glass doors were also open, wind sweeping the soft curtains up into the air. A single chair sat on the balcony, beside it, a lump of something that looked suspiciously like clothing. Sergio cocked his ear but he could not hear anything like the shower running.
“That’s weird because Pipa texted me and said his lights were off too and he’s next do--”
“My phone is messing up again.” Iker sighed. “I think I’m going to have to get a new one. But, thanks for thinking about me.”
“Iker.” Sergio draws in a deep breath for courage and tastes that strange, coppery feeling over his tongue. It’s like ozone and… and sex. Sergio licks his lips, looking back at the chair over Iker’s naked shoulder. “Iker what is, oh my god.”
A flash of lightening shot straight down from the sky just beyond Iker’s balcony. The room bloomed white, blue cracks of static filtering down the curtains and across the walls.
“Chu.” Iker said.
“Salud,” Sergio responded automatically. His brow furrowed trying to make sense of what was in front of him. He had a whole new set of questions to ask starting with the sound Iker just made. He never sneezed like that before. “Iker.”
“Yeah. I’m going to go ahead and close those doors and get dressed. I’ll head over to your room in a minute. I know there’re some cards about to be played.” Iker’s eyes were guileless, the usual brown lit by something small and flickering in its depths.
“Wait.” Sergio reached out to grab Iker’s wrist and gasped at the sting radiating up his arm. “Fuck, Iker. You really need a box of dryer sheets don’t you?”
Iker’s suddenly closed face told him that was exactly the wrong thing to say. He stepped back into his room, free hand closing around the door. “Can I put some clothes on now or are you waiting for the show to start?”
“No, wait, Iker listen. I just.” He bit his lip. “I just want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk. I’m your friend and, no matter what you’re thinking or where you’re going, I need you to know you’re not alone.”
There was a long pause where Iker’s gaze turned inward and Sergio waited patiently, hand squeezing Iker’s chilled skin. Finally, Iker sighed, a tired smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I know that, Sergio. But thank you for reminding me.” He pinched their fingers together before shaking loose. “I really am coming over in a minute. Tell the girls to reach into their bras for the big money. I plan on winning tonight.”
He shut the door slowly, turning at the last moment when it became clear Sergio had nothing else to say. Sergio waited by the door for at least ten minutes for Iker to come out. In vain it seemed. But he had only returned to his bedroom for five minutes, just long enough to pull out a deck of cards and toss them to Xabi, before he was opening his own door, Iker ducking under his arm with a grin.
::
That should have been the end of it. It would have been the end of it because Iker was more relaxed than he’d been in days, a full smile across his lips, jokes teasing instead of vicious, until Xabi slapped his shoulder and nearly tumbled to the floor after a loud, static filled pop broke through the air. Iker had withdrawn afterward, staying for one more round before leaving. Every tiny smile he’d shared with Sergio, reassuring and touched, forgotten.
The resigned look in Iker’s eyes when he had left had haunted Sergio for days after they returned to Madrid. It’s the reason he drove to Iker’s house in the middle of a dreary day filled with gray rains and bright umbrellas. He parked on the street and trotted up the sidewalk. He tucked locks of his hair behind his ears as the wind picked up. The sky darkened noticeably in the short distance from his car to the gate. In the distance, thunder rolled with ponderous weight, advancing toward this part of town. Sergio frowned, thinking there certainly were plenty of storms lately.
It was only out of politeness that Sergio buzzed at the gate to let Iker know he was letting himself inside.
“No. It’s my house.” Iker’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I’ll let you in.”
The gate clicked and Sergio pushed through, making sure the lock caught before he headed up to the front door. It opened before he could knock. Iker looked at him expectantly.
“You usually call before you come over.”
“Wasn’t sure if you got a new phone yet.” Sergio said. He eyed Iker’s bare chest, bare feet, loose cargo shorts that bagged at the waist, and black fedora. “Why are you wearing a hat?”
Iker gave a small huff of laughter. “You drove all the way over here to bitch about what I’m wearing?”
“I drove all the way over here to talk to you. You’re hiding something, Iker, and I don’t want you to go through this by yourself. You can trust me. Even if it’s just to be there for you. And if you have to confide. In.” Sergio’s not sure what drew his attention upward, but his eyes traveled to the sky. His words trailed away.
The clouds appear to have been gathering to a specific point in the city, Iker’s house, to be exact. They were big and black and circling like the beginning of a massive funnel. Thunder shook the block, sending cars wailing up and down the street. Sergio opens his mouth to say something else when another clap of thunder burst through the sky followed by another and another. Suddenly a glimmer appeared in the center of the clouds, a streak of something flying down. It moved just within the boundaries of the human eye, but only just, leaving sleek holes in the heavy bank of clouds.
It was heading straight for front porch.
“Iker?”
“Sergio! Look out!”
Iker dived from his front door catching Sergio in one arm and sent them hurtling into the unsuspecting flowers. The world went bright. Lightening danced on the front steps, one long column spitting a shower of sparks over the stones and into the flower bed. Iker hissed softly, squirming above Sergio’s shocked body. He froze as a wild shriek rent the air. It was something Sergio never heard before, like the lonely cry of ice cracking thousands of miles away from anyone or anything. It was something unnatural like metal tearing apart. It was a bird swooping down low. It flapped its mighty wings once and lifted back into the air, the sound of thunder sweeping over them, then disappeared. Sergio knows such an amazing creature should be impossible but the impossible was possible in this moment. He has captain between his knees to prove it.
Iker tilted his head back, fedora sliding to the ground forgotten. The sky remained dark, but the bird had disappeared. He sat back on his heels and began patting at Sergio’s shoulders and legs, staring hard as if he were daring injuries to appear. “You alright?”
Sergio could only stare at the long, yellow ears pointing up from Iker’s head like black-tipped antennae. He reached out to do something, touch Iker’s pink cheeks or tweak at his human ears to make sure they were real before going higher.
The rustle of great wings and thunder stilled him.
“Shit.” Iker turned on the balls of his feet. He mumbled something then snapped his fingers. A blue line danced between his middle finger and thumb, curling, curling until it became a small ball of electricity that grew until it was the size of a football when Iker finished standing. “Stay behind me.”
The bird perched on the awning above Iker’s porch. It was a majestic impossibility, tall and slender like a crane with long feathers falling from the crest of its head like a lion mane. Its wingspan was massive, at least as wide as a Sergio was tall, with yellow feathers that shimmered with strange blue light If Sergio had been looking at it, he would have seen its white eyes, ringed with thick, black feathers, flash at the same moment lightening skated over Iker’s stonework.
Sergio’s eyes were stuck on another impossibility peaking from the edge of Iker’s shorts. A tail. A yellow tail that fluffed softly against the skin of his knee, black tipped like Iker’s ears. “You have a tail.” He said, stupidly.
Iker’s shoulders sagged. Then he wiggled to the right, eyes narrowed. “Stop petting it.”
Great wings of jagged black and yellow, heralding the storm, snapped out commanding attention. The rain poured down from the sky but it burned away before reaching its feathers, popping and sizzling, creating a halo effect. Sergio looked up as the long, sharp beak opened and squawked, “Zapdos!”*
“My door’s still open. When I give you the word, run for it.”
“Zapdos!” A bolt of lightning struck the stairway.
“You want me to run toward the bird that flings lighting?”
Iker glanced down at him. “You can trust me,” he said, a hint of a smile playing at his thin lips.
“Zapdos!”
“Shit.” Iker winced, glancing between Sergio and the giant bird. “New plan. Don’t move, okay. No matter what I do next or. Or what I say.” Iker loosened his shorts then pulled his tail free. It jutted awkwardly, a slice of hand drawn lightning bouncing under the heavy pressure of the rain.
“Zapdos!” said Zapdos.
“Iker,” said Iker.
“Zapdos!”
“Sonovabitch.” Iker muttered lowly. He drew a deeply pained breath before shouting, “Pikerchu!”
Sergio’s eyes grew wider.
“Zapdos!”
“Pikerchu!”
“Zapdos!”
“Piker piker?”
Zapdos nodded gravely. “Zapdos!”
Iker’s ears tilted forward matching the aggressive tilt of his chin. His mouth set into a grim line. It looked as if whatever the strange bird said to Iker was important enough to reach him. Sergio stood slow eyes flickering between the bird and the ball of lightening swiftly circling above his hand.
“Iker?” He said his name again, softly until Iker looked to him. His eyes were filled with a piercing heat that seemed so far away. So lost. Sergio uncurled Iker’s fist slowly then folded their fingers again. “Whatever it is. I?”
Iker’s voice came from somewhere far away, soft and deep, forgotten. “You’re here.”
“Yeah. I am.”
Iker squeezed his fingers tight, nodding. He looked back to the bird, shoulders squared. “Pikerchu!”
“Zapdos!”
Iker looked back at Sergio. His cheeks flushed and a spark popped at the end of his twitching nose. “Piker!”
But Zapdos unfurled wings to the sky, the sound clapping like thunder. It raised its head slowly, raindrops continuing to sizzle just above the heavy feathers. “Zapdos!” it cried and shot into the air. “Zapdos!”
Iker’s yellow ears fell back across his wet head as he followed the winding trail of blue-gold light made in Zapdos’ wake.
They stood in silence as the cloud cover thinned. Sergio stood beside him under the light patter of rain struggling to remember which direction would lead him back to sanity.
“What the fuck just happened!?”
::
“What did the bird say?”
After a hot shower, Sergio had came down to the kitchen in a pair sweatpants cut at the ankle He’d watched Iker circle the kitchen making hot chocolate for him. It was amazing how something so simple transformed into amazing with the addition of another set of ears and a tail. One yellow ear listed to the side while the other circled in the same slow motion Iker stirred the pot. They both twitched upright at Sergio’s question.
Iker turned, ears and eyebrows raised. “Who?”
“Zapdos? Fucking huge bird that shot lightening from its feathers? I know you were talking to it, Iker. Or should I say, Ikerchu.”
Iker glared at him for long minutes. It was a familiar look, lips twisted, brow furrowed tight above his nose as he picked through every thought searching for the exact words. “The pokémon are in crisis,” said Iker.
“That’s it? That’s all it said?”
Iker shrugged.
“Seriously, Iker? I just stood outside, I’m in your house and you’re. You have.” Sergio flapped his hands. “And you can’t trust me with anything else?”
“it’s not that.” Iker’s eyes grew wide and sad. “I trust you, you know I do. And now I have the chance to tell someone about this crazy shit, and it’s not just anyone. It’s you. I expected you to start with a different question too. I really don’t know how to begin.”
There was vulnerability in Iker’s eyes, clear, hesitant, and unashamed by it. The strength Iker exuded even under this, the most ridiculous of circumstances, was what made Sergio’s hands squeeze against his knees and his chest ache with pride as he watched the young goal keeper wipe tears from his eyes as he hugged the coaching staff. Sergio wrapped his hand around Iker’s fist, stroking until their fingers tangled together.
“Start anywhere. Say anything. I’m here for you.”
A silent pulse of energy sizzled from the tip of Iker’s tail into the room. It bounces across the glass windows merrily, one after another in a race up and down and across. Sergio’s hair lifted from his shoulders slowly as Iker ducked his head, a light blush staining his cheeks.
“The pokémon are in crisis,” said Iker after hiding an embarrassed cough behind his hand. “Someone has found the three of the twelve sacred temples and is ransacking them. The guardians are hurt and there’s just. No one knows what’s going on apparently.”
There was so much going on in those three short sentences. Sergio could only begin with the second most obvious question.
“What do the pokémon want with you?”
“They need someone who can walk both worlds, I guess. The ears and tail only manifest some of the time, mainly during times of extreme stress and bad weather. They think I can determine if it’s humans. It could be a rogue pokémon. There have been some before.”
Sergio nodded. He’d seen the first movie in theaters. With his younger cousins. “Like Mewtwo,” he said knowingly.
Iker snorted. “He’s not real. That’s all Nintendo.”
Sometime between the disputed origins of pokémon and their disappearance from the modern world during the Industrial Revolution, Iker and Sergio moved from the kitchen to the living room couch. They tucked together like puzzle pieces, a knee here, a thigh there, drawing closer until Iker’s head rested against Sergio’s shoulder and Sergio’s fingers combed through Iker’s hair to find the soft rise of the long ears. They were butter soft beneath his fingertips, warm and thin. He traced to the round tip and pressed. Iker’s explanation trailed away as leg kicked reflexively.
Sergio hid a smile. “A werémon?” He prompted when it seemed Iker wasn’t going to continue.
“I know. The name sounds ridiculous, like it’s out of some new, made up generation of spirits, but it’s true. It’s the dark secret of the Casillas family. Descended from werémon.”
As secrets go, Sergio is sure he can understand why Iker would go so far to hide this from people. Yet here he was with Sergio, his first and only. It would cost nothing for Sergio to believe, and so he did. He took the brief history in stride, nodded along at the bite sustained by his great, great, great-grandmother by a wild lightening spirit, a raichu and the mysterious oracle, the fact that it skipped entire generations and his family thought he would be clear because he made it to twenty-five without sprouting anything unusual.
“But I thought pokémon were-“
“A myth?” Iker laughed bitterly. “Most people do.”
Well, Sergio would say a clever franchise developed by Nintendo rather than myth, but sure. Myth. Iker was the one with two yellow ears flopping sadly over his eyes. His reality must be a complicated assortment of facts and legends, improbabilities made possible. The way Iker kept himself apart from the people made much more sense. It also explained his-Sergio grinned-lightening fast reflexes.
“No, I thought they were more like animals than spirits? I guess I’m trying to figure out if you’re cursed or is it blood contamination? None of it makes any sense.”
“It’s my life, Sergio, which is like everyone else’s. It’s not supposed to make sense.” Iker’s voice dwindled down to cotton softness, breath hot against his skin. “You try your best, you work hard to succeed, and if you’re lucky, you find someone who helps you through it. If you’re lucky, all the secrets in the world don’t matter, none of the weirdness, or the fact that thunderstorms are way more intense now, none of that would ever matter because, if you’re lucky, you’re not going through it alone.”
He wonders why Iker is waiting or what he’s waiting for. Sergio has said the words at least a dozen times over the past few weeks. He’s said them more and louder over the years, on the pitch and in their personal lives. He said it not even an hour ago with the wind and the rain as his witness and a really huge bird snapping lightening out at him. He’ll say it again now with words Iker is more likely to understand.
Sergio’s mouth curved gently as his thumb and forefinger fanned around the long curve of Iker’s ear before tweaking the tip. Attention grabbed, Sergio stared into the warm glow of Iker’s eyes and saw the lightening flicker in the distance. And just past that, he saw forever. “Iker Casillas. I choose you.”
“Chuu,” Iker said softly, eyes wide and disbelieving. A shiver of white light skipped across his shoulders then down his back to collect at the point of his tail. Then an intensely uncomfortable look crosses his face. His eyes narrow and his mouth tried to harden into the same line he’s worn for six weeks now. It was a poor imitation. “I mean. You. Get the fuck out of my house, Ramos.”
Sergio cupped his cheeks. His smile filled with quiet laughter. “The ears don’t bother me, your tail is cute, and if what little you’ve said is true, thunderstorms are about to be my new turn on,” he said. “ I’m going to try to kiss you now because I’ve wanted to for a long time. That’s my secret. Let me in, Iker.”
::
Sergio’s smile glowed in the darkness of Iker’s bedroom, literally.
“You can stop doing that, you know. My ego is more than fine now.” Iker’s hand plays along Sergio’s belly, light arcing before his finger tips in one, two, three hops before bursting across his nipples.
“I can’t help it.” Sergio let the feeling spiral out through his body with a sigh. “It’s amazing.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. How often do you build up a charge?”
“It depends really, but during storms I gain so much energy it’s hard to release it safely all at once. But slow, and steady?” He snapped his fingers. The lights went out. Sergio’s legs were pushed open by Iker’s thick body. “Safe and feels like heaven.”
A tiny light flared beneath the covers illuminating the shape of Iker's hand along Sergio's cock. Iker’s grin became smug.
“Oh my god!” Sergio panted. “Wait. That’s what you were doing on the balcony? That is. God, that is insanely hot.”
:: 5253
inspired by this picture!
::
*Translation:
“It has been many long years that I, Zapdos, have flown on the storms of these skies, yet never had I thought my eyes would see the ‘get of the fabled werémon so willful in their struggle of head and heart! The call has been sent to you thrice and you still refuse to answer. Why? Now I, Zapdos have come for answers and if they are lacking, met punishment!
“Fool! Though I am not skilled in the language of man, I know that you are preparing for battle. Fool I call you again, for the battle skills of the werémon are nothing without knowledge to guide them. You, who allows ignorance rule him, stand no chance before me.
“What of your friend? Will you put him in danger for your foolish pride?
“Your silence says you believe my threats are baseless. Let me remind you, werémon, we three birds of legend signed no accord with the humans. The danger is real.”
“I am Iker of the Casillas clan. If you try to harm him, I will fight you.”
“Kiker? I know the Casillas clan but I do not know of a Kiker. But I will sing of your death in the heart of the storms so that they might know of your foolish youth wasted.”
“Iker, you pompous…. Zapdos.”
“Iker! Of course. The Pokémon Council sits content to stay an open secret and use the monies obtained from their agreement to by safe havens for our kind. Yet they ignore the danger growing within our world. We, the wild and the legendary, know the call of freedom and will fight to grant all our kind this gift. I come to ask you to join us, Iker of the Casillas clan.”
“What danger? Get to the point!”
“The pokémon are in crisis! The temples of our ancients and the humans who stood beside us have been locked from the world for millennia, our secrets hidden, our lives safe. But two have been raided within the past month and the temple guardians have been laid low. It will take many, many moons for them to recover. Across the globe, pokémon are being chased by an unknown group. They even dared to set foot in Japan though the mistake cost them greatly. Again, I ask you, join us, Iker of the Casillas clan.”
“Is this true? The council has tried many, many times to leverage my media personality to their cause. Is this another tactic? I have to ask because I value my freedom as well.”
“It is all true. We need your talents to save our world.”
“I can’t be quick to answer because I have responsibilities, but, I will help you, Zaptos, however I can, whenever I am able.”
“We ask that you journey to the foreign lands as your position with Real Madrid allows and seek answers. Yes, of course we watch the matches; you are an inspiration to the entire world, human and we spirits.”
“Is he your trainer then? Do you belong to him?”
“He’s my friend.”
“Friend. Friend that is a word I know well. It is good that you have a friend, Iker of the Casillas clan. It’s all we ever want. To belong to someone. Fare thee well, Iker Casillas.”
pairing: iker casillas/sergio ramos
rated: r
warning: utter crack!fic
to belong, it's all we ever want
To be fair to the friends and family of Iker Casillas, Sergio spent an inordinate amount of time observing him. The attention was sometimes wanted, other times dreaded, but overall, Sergio’s constant regard was never acted upon. Sergio simply liked learning about Iker. They spent plenty of hours together during practice and matches, traveled from one part of Spain to the other and crossed oceans together. There was plenty of time to become closer, to know more, to learn everything about a person and then see that person grow, change, evolve into a leader. There was also part of Sergio fascinated by his captain that carried over from when he was young and watched this nineteen year old boy make save after heart-stopping save in the match that made his carrier. He had known Iker Casillas was special from that very moment. It was because of this reason, this lifelong fascination, this desire to know that Sergio watched Iker from across the room.
Most of the team had already disappeared after practice but others like Xabi, Sergio, and Cristiano dragged their feet a little in the dressing room. It was their time for scheduled pre-season interviews. Iker walked from the showers, sour mood heavy on his shoulders. He dried and dressed with short movements and slammed his locker shut with the palm of his hand.
There were other conversations going on, a rousing discussion of the zoo’s expansion and the best time to take kids. So, Sergio was the first to see a tiny ball of blue electricity pop from Iker’s finger tips and rattle up and down the metal. First and only, and like so many of Iker’s secrets he collected over the years, Sergio kept it to himself.
::
That is until a month later, when Iker’s temper went from forceful to aggressively patronizing.
Sergio jogged backwards, eyes on young winger who sprint past Albiol as if he were standing still. His steps quicken to a full sprint, rounding him just outside of the box. He dipped left, right, and Sergio’s foot clipped into his pass. The ball popped up sailing lazily into the air until Iker snatched down with a snarl.
“I know it’s not Arbeloa’s dick,” Iker growled when Albiol jogged up after play continued up the pitch. “But can you please fucking pay attention to the game?”
Raul blinked. “I.”
Iker’s head tilted. “You?”
Whatever Raul saw in Iker’s eyes was enough to snuff his retort. He said, “Will do better.”
“Good. Just because it’s an exhibition match doesn’t mean you can sleep walk through it.” Something like sparks fizzled at the tip of his nose which was impossible. It was impossible but Sergio saw them.
Sergio tried to catch Albiol’s gaze, sure he wasn’t alone this time, but he was already almost to the white line dividing both sides of the pitch. Something sharp tingled in the air, something quick that welled in Serigo’s mouth thick as blood. The sensation was familiar, but he couldn’t place it at the moment, not with Iker spinning on his heel to glare at him with hot eyes.
“Something interesting is happening in that direction, Ramos.” Iker extends his hand out towards the pitch as if he were inviting Sergio to join in the game.
Sergio gave him a thumbs up as he took off, just to be safe.
::
“I just mean. That was over the top, right?”
“It was. It was.” Arbeloa said while petting Raul’s thigh. His ears were still red from Iker’s snarling response after stopping him in the hallway an hour earlier about his comment on the pitch. “He shouldn’t have said that to you.”
Raul shifted to his side. His knees opened slowly allowing Arbeloa’s hand more room. “And he shouldn’t have said that to you,” he said.
“He shouldn’t be saying stuff like that to anyone,” said Xabi loudly. He didn’t like the direction their mutual sympathy party was going-horizontal. He was sitting on the same bed. “Someone needs to talk to him. Make sure he’s okay.”
“Why don’t you just go instead of telling us something should be done?”
“Because I haven’t pissed him off yet,” Xabi said.
“Coward.”
“No, just ensuring my survival,” Xabi said, smirking pointedly. “Like all the smart ones do. What do you think, Sergio?”
Sergio sat beside the window of the hotel room. The sky was one flat, black cloud frustrating the sun it hid. Slowly, the light faded and rain began pattering across the glass.
“Something is wrong with Iker.”
The three on the bed exchanged glances.
“It’s not just his attitude. He’s.” Sergio searched for a word to best describe the changes he’s noticed in Iker. “He’s different. He’s charging into everything now. He’s so angry. His diet is stricter, and he’s gone through two cellphones in the past month. And he’s wearing hats.”
“Ah, yes,” Xabi said. “The hats.”
Sergio’s pursed lips and slanted gaze inferred cutting bitches far better than any words. “Yes. The hats. It wasn’t even sunny today but he was wearing that straw fedora on the way out to lunch. And he’s back to wearing chinos two sizes too big and a jacket wrapped around his waist in August. What does he have to hide? His ass?” He continues before someone could make the obligatory fashion joke. “Then there’s all that static. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“It really doesn’t make any sense,” said Xabi after adding together facts Sergio collected in his head and discarding the seemingly random. “The static I mean. He’s shocking everyone left and right. Maybe he, he….” He was interrupted by a crack of light splitting the sky. Thunder slammed through the air behind the lightening hard and fast.
The lights flickered in and out, humming in protest, and then collapsed one by one into darkness.
“Shit.” Raul rolled upright. “That was close.”
Sergio’s shadow stood apart from the black sky. “I’m going to go talk to Iker.”
“The power just went out. You don’t need to be wandering around by yourself.”
Sergio was already crossing the room, determination in his every step. “He’s down the hall. It’s not like I have to take the elevator or something.”
He’d tried texting Iker since they unloaded from the bus first to invite him to dinner and then to watch movies with them, and finally to simply talk. He never received a reply. It wasn’t like Iker to completely ignore a person and he knew better than to ignore Sergio Ramos. Pride aside, Sergio felt genuine concern for Iker. He spent so much time setting himself apart from the team recently, giving a growling insult instead of his grudging smiles. He evaded any and all touch now because he really did seem to shock people all the time as if he had static curling under his skin, waiting. If it were merely the normal brooding, intractable mood Iker cycled into periodically, Sergio wouldn’t worry so much. It’s just that despite the fact he’s willfully closing off from everyone-not just the team, friends included-Iker seemed so lonely.
What hurt him so badly that he turned everyone away? What secret was so great loneliness was the only alternative? Sergio couldn’t imagine the answers Iker would give to these questions, but they were the ones waiting on the tip of his tongue as he pounded on the hotel room door.
“Iker?” He called for the fourth time, seriously worried now. He sent another message, wondering if he could take the stairs down to the lobby and find a way to override the lock. He lifted his fist to knock again when the door flew open. Sergio stared into the face of a very wet, very angry Iker Casillas illuminated by lamplight.
“What do you want, Ramos?”
“Ah. You. My texts,” Sergio said, skillfully stalling for time. He needed to regroup. He needed to take in the wet hair plastered to Iker’s forehead, the drops of water sliding down the tip of his sharp nose, and the rivulets running down to the white towel wrapped around his waist. Iker’s fist caught the loose ends tight in his fist. His skin pimpled and his nipples were sharp little points, and Sergio had points too, for being here and interrupting Iker. He just can’t remember them.
“Water’s running, Sergio. You need something?”
“Um.” Sergio looked into Iker’s room a second time. The television was on as well as the small lamp by Iker’s bed. Sergio glanced at the dark hallway to either side of him. “I came to check on you because the power went off.”
“Yeah?” Iker followed Sergio’s eyes up the hallway light above him that was clearly turned off. “Yeah. Mine have been flickering. Oh, look. They’re out now.”
Iker shifted backwards inviting Sergio to look past him. Gray shadows from the sky filling the room in the sudden absence of light. The glass doors were also open, wind sweeping the soft curtains up into the air. A single chair sat on the balcony, beside it, a lump of something that looked suspiciously like clothing. Sergio cocked his ear but he could not hear anything like the shower running.
“That’s weird because Pipa texted me and said his lights were off too and he’s next do--”
“My phone is messing up again.” Iker sighed. “I think I’m going to have to get a new one. But, thanks for thinking about me.”
“Iker.” Sergio draws in a deep breath for courage and tastes that strange, coppery feeling over his tongue. It’s like ozone and… and sex. Sergio licks his lips, looking back at the chair over Iker’s naked shoulder. “Iker what is, oh my god.”
A flash of lightening shot straight down from the sky just beyond Iker’s balcony. The room bloomed white, blue cracks of static filtering down the curtains and across the walls.
“Chu.” Iker said.
“Salud,” Sergio responded automatically. His brow furrowed trying to make sense of what was in front of him. He had a whole new set of questions to ask starting with the sound Iker just made. He never sneezed like that before. “Iker.”
“Yeah. I’m going to go ahead and close those doors and get dressed. I’ll head over to your room in a minute. I know there’re some cards about to be played.” Iker’s eyes were guileless, the usual brown lit by something small and flickering in its depths.
“Wait.” Sergio reached out to grab Iker’s wrist and gasped at the sting radiating up his arm. “Fuck, Iker. You really need a box of dryer sheets don’t you?”
Iker’s suddenly closed face told him that was exactly the wrong thing to say. He stepped back into his room, free hand closing around the door. “Can I put some clothes on now or are you waiting for the show to start?”
“No, wait, Iker listen. I just.” He bit his lip. “I just want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk. I’m your friend and, no matter what you’re thinking or where you’re going, I need you to know you’re not alone.”
There was a long pause where Iker’s gaze turned inward and Sergio waited patiently, hand squeezing Iker’s chilled skin. Finally, Iker sighed, a tired smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I know that, Sergio. But thank you for reminding me.” He pinched their fingers together before shaking loose. “I really am coming over in a minute. Tell the girls to reach into their bras for the big money. I plan on winning tonight.”
He shut the door slowly, turning at the last moment when it became clear Sergio had nothing else to say. Sergio waited by the door for at least ten minutes for Iker to come out. In vain it seemed. But he had only returned to his bedroom for five minutes, just long enough to pull out a deck of cards and toss them to Xabi, before he was opening his own door, Iker ducking under his arm with a grin.
::
That should have been the end of it. It would have been the end of it because Iker was more relaxed than he’d been in days, a full smile across his lips, jokes teasing instead of vicious, until Xabi slapped his shoulder and nearly tumbled to the floor after a loud, static filled pop broke through the air. Iker had withdrawn afterward, staying for one more round before leaving. Every tiny smile he’d shared with Sergio, reassuring and touched, forgotten.
The resigned look in Iker’s eyes when he had left had haunted Sergio for days after they returned to Madrid. It’s the reason he drove to Iker’s house in the middle of a dreary day filled with gray rains and bright umbrellas. He parked on the street and trotted up the sidewalk. He tucked locks of his hair behind his ears as the wind picked up. The sky darkened noticeably in the short distance from his car to the gate. In the distance, thunder rolled with ponderous weight, advancing toward this part of town. Sergio frowned, thinking there certainly were plenty of storms lately.
It was only out of politeness that Sergio buzzed at the gate to let Iker know he was letting himself inside.
“No. It’s my house.” Iker’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I’ll let you in.”
The gate clicked and Sergio pushed through, making sure the lock caught before he headed up to the front door. It opened before he could knock. Iker looked at him expectantly.
“You usually call before you come over.”
“Wasn’t sure if you got a new phone yet.” Sergio said. He eyed Iker’s bare chest, bare feet, loose cargo shorts that bagged at the waist, and black fedora. “Why are you wearing a hat?”
Iker gave a small huff of laughter. “You drove all the way over here to bitch about what I’m wearing?”
“I drove all the way over here to talk to you. You’re hiding something, Iker, and I don’t want you to go through this by yourself. You can trust me. Even if it’s just to be there for you. And if you have to confide. In.” Sergio’s not sure what drew his attention upward, but his eyes traveled to the sky. His words trailed away.
The clouds appear to have been gathering to a specific point in the city, Iker’s house, to be exact. They were big and black and circling like the beginning of a massive funnel. Thunder shook the block, sending cars wailing up and down the street. Sergio opens his mouth to say something else when another clap of thunder burst through the sky followed by another and another. Suddenly a glimmer appeared in the center of the clouds, a streak of something flying down. It moved just within the boundaries of the human eye, but only just, leaving sleek holes in the heavy bank of clouds.
It was heading straight for front porch.
“Iker?”
“Sergio! Look out!”
Iker dived from his front door catching Sergio in one arm and sent them hurtling into the unsuspecting flowers. The world went bright. Lightening danced on the front steps, one long column spitting a shower of sparks over the stones and into the flower bed. Iker hissed softly, squirming above Sergio’s shocked body. He froze as a wild shriek rent the air. It was something Sergio never heard before, like the lonely cry of ice cracking thousands of miles away from anyone or anything. It was something unnatural like metal tearing apart. It was a bird swooping down low. It flapped its mighty wings once and lifted back into the air, the sound of thunder sweeping over them, then disappeared. Sergio knows such an amazing creature should be impossible but the impossible was possible in this moment. He has captain between his knees to prove it.
Iker tilted his head back, fedora sliding to the ground forgotten. The sky remained dark, but the bird had disappeared. He sat back on his heels and began patting at Sergio’s shoulders and legs, staring hard as if he were daring injuries to appear. “You alright?”
Sergio could only stare at the long, yellow ears pointing up from Iker’s head like black-tipped antennae. He reached out to do something, touch Iker’s pink cheeks or tweak at his human ears to make sure they were real before going higher.
The rustle of great wings and thunder stilled him.
“Shit.” Iker turned on the balls of his feet. He mumbled something then snapped his fingers. A blue line danced between his middle finger and thumb, curling, curling until it became a small ball of electricity that grew until it was the size of a football when Iker finished standing. “Stay behind me.”
The bird perched on the awning above Iker’s porch. It was a majestic impossibility, tall and slender like a crane with long feathers falling from the crest of its head like a lion mane. Its wingspan was massive, at least as wide as a Sergio was tall, with yellow feathers that shimmered with strange blue light If Sergio had been looking at it, he would have seen its white eyes, ringed with thick, black feathers, flash at the same moment lightening skated over Iker’s stonework.
Sergio’s eyes were stuck on another impossibility peaking from the edge of Iker’s shorts. A tail. A yellow tail that fluffed softly against the skin of his knee, black tipped like Iker’s ears. “You have a tail.” He said, stupidly.
Iker’s shoulders sagged. Then he wiggled to the right, eyes narrowed. “Stop petting it.”
Great wings of jagged black and yellow, heralding the storm, snapped out commanding attention. The rain poured down from the sky but it burned away before reaching its feathers, popping and sizzling, creating a halo effect. Sergio looked up as the long, sharp beak opened and squawked, “Zapdos!”*
“My door’s still open. When I give you the word, run for it.”
“Zapdos!” A bolt of lightning struck the stairway.
“You want me to run toward the bird that flings lighting?”
Iker glanced down at him. “You can trust me,” he said, a hint of a smile playing at his thin lips.
“Zapdos!”
“Shit.” Iker winced, glancing between Sergio and the giant bird. “New plan. Don’t move, okay. No matter what I do next or. Or what I say.” Iker loosened his shorts then pulled his tail free. It jutted awkwardly, a slice of hand drawn lightning bouncing under the heavy pressure of the rain.
“Zapdos!” said Zapdos.
“Iker,” said Iker.
“Zapdos!”
“Sonovabitch.” Iker muttered lowly. He drew a deeply pained breath before shouting, “Pikerchu!”
Sergio’s eyes grew wider.
“Zapdos!”
“Pikerchu!”
“Zapdos!”
“Piker piker?”
Zapdos nodded gravely. “Zapdos!”
Iker’s ears tilted forward matching the aggressive tilt of his chin. His mouth set into a grim line. It looked as if whatever the strange bird said to Iker was important enough to reach him. Sergio stood slow eyes flickering between the bird and the ball of lightening swiftly circling above his hand.
“Iker?” He said his name again, softly until Iker looked to him. His eyes were filled with a piercing heat that seemed so far away. So lost. Sergio uncurled Iker’s fist slowly then folded their fingers again. “Whatever it is. I?”
Iker’s voice came from somewhere far away, soft and deep, forgotten. “You’re here.”
“Yeah. I am.”
Iker squeezed his fingers tight, nodding. He looked back to the bird, shoulders squared. “Pikerchu!”
“Zapdos!”
Iker looked back at Sergio. His cheeks flushed and a spark popped at the end of his twitching nose. “Piker!”
But Zapdos unfurled wings to the sky, the sound clapping like thunder. It raised its head slowly, raindrops continuing to sizzle just above the heavy feathers. “Zapdos!” it cried and shot into the air. “Zapdos!”
Iker’s yellow ears fell back across his wet head as he followed the winding trail of blue-gold light made in Zapdos’ wake.
They stood in silence as the cloud cover thinned. Sergio stood beside him under the light patter of rain struggling to remember which direction would lead him back to sanity.
“What the fuck just happened!?”
::
“What did the bird say?”
After a hot shower, Sergio had came down to the kitchen in a pair sweatpants cut at the ankle He’d watched Iker circle the kitchen making hot chocolate for him. It was amazing how something so simple transformed into amazing with the addition of another set of ears and a tail. One yellow ear listed to the side while the other circled in the same slow motion Iker stirred the pot. They both twitched upright at Sergio’s question.
Iker turned, ears and eyebrows raised. “Who?”
“Zapdos? Fucking huge bird that shot lightening from its feathers? I know you were talking to it, Iker. Or should I say, Ikerchu.”
Iker glared at him for long minutes. It was a familiar look, lips twisted, brow furrowed tight above his nose as he picked through every thought searching for the exact words. “The pokémon are in crisis,” said Iker.
“That’s it? That’s all it said?”
Iker shrugged.
“Seriously, Iker? I just stood outside, I’m in your house and you’re. You have.” Sergio flapped his hands. “And you can’t trust me with anything else?”
“it’s not that.” Iker’s eyes grew wide and sad. “I trust you, you know I do. And now I have the chance to tell someone about this crazy shit, and it’s not just anyone. It’s you. I expected you to start with a different question too. I really don’t know how to begin.”
There was vulnerability in Iker’s eyes, clear, hesitant, and unashamed by it. The strength Iker exuded even under this, the most ridiculous of circumstances, was what made Sergio’s hands squeeze against his knees and his chest ache with pride as he watched the young goal keeper wipe tears from his eyes as he hugged the coaching staff. Sergio wrapped his hand around Iker’s fist, stroking until their fingers tangled together.
“Start anywhere. Say anything. I’m here for you.”
A silent pulse of energy sizzled from the tip of Iker’s tail into the room. It bounces across the glass windows merrily, one after another in a race up and down and across. Sergio’s hair lifted from his shoulders slowly as Iker ducked his head, a light blush staining his cheeks.
“The pokémon are in crisis,” said Iker after hiding an embarrassed cough behind his hand. “Someone has found the three of the twelve sacred temples and is ransacking them. The guardians are hurt and there’s just. No one knows what’s going on apparently.”
There was so much going on in those three short sentences. Sergio could only begin with the second most obvious question.
“What do the pokémon want with you?”
“They need someone who can walk both worlds, I guess. The ears and tail only manifest some of the time, mainly during times of extreme stress and bad weather. They think I can determine if it’s humans. It could be a rogue pokémon. There have been some before.”
Sergio nodded. He’d seen the first movie in theaters. With his younger cousins. “Like Mewtwo,” he said knowingly.
Iker snorted. “He’s not real. That’s all Nintendo.”
Sometime between the disputed origins of pokémon and their disappearance from the modern world during the Industrial Revolution, Iker and Sergio moved from the kitchen to the living room couch. They tucked together like puzzle pieces, a knee here, a thigh there, drawing closer until Iker’s head rested against Sergio’s shoulder and Sergio’s fingers combed through Iker’s hair to find the soft rise of the long ears. They were butter soft beneath his fingertips, warm and thin. He traced to the round tip and pressed. Iker’s explanation trailed away as leg kicked reflexively.
Sergio hid a smile. “A werémon?” He prompted when it seemed Iker wasn’t going to continue.
“I know. The name sounds ridiculous, like it’s out of some new, made up generation of spirits, but it’s true. It’s the dark secret of the Casillas family. Descended from werémon.”
As secrets go, Sergio is sure he can understand why Iker would go so far to hide this from people. Yet here he was with Sergio, his first and only. It would cost nothing for Sergio to believe, and so he did. He took the brief history in stride, nodded along at the bite sustained by his great, great, great-grandmother by a wild lightening spirit, a raichu and the mysterious oracle, the fact that it skipped entire generations and his family thought he would be clear because he made it to twenty-five without sprouting anything unusual.
“But I thought pokémon were-“
“A myth?” Iker laughed bitterly. “Most people do.”
Well, Sergio would say a clever franchise developed by Nintendo rather than myth, but sure. Myth. Iker was the one with two yellow ears flopping sadly over his eyes. His reality must be a complicated assortment of facts and legends, improbabilities made possible. The way Iker kept himself apart from the people made much more sense. It also explained his-Sergio grinned-lightening fast reflexes.
“No, I thought they were more like animals than spirits? I guess I’m trying to figure out if you’re cursed or is it blood contamination? None of it makes any sense.”
“It’s my life, Sergio, which is like everyone else’s. It’s not supposed to make sense.” Iker’s voice dwindled down to cotton softness, breath hot against his skin. “You try your best, you work hard to succeed, and if you’re lucky, you find someone who helps you through it. If you’re lucky, all the secrets in the world don’t matter, none of the weirdness, or the fact that thunderstorms are way more intense now, none of that would ever matter because, if you’re lucky, you’re not going through it alone.”
He wonders why Iker is waiting or what he’s waiting for. Sergio has said the words at least a dozen times over the past few weeks. He’s said them more and louder over the years, on the pitch and in their personal lives. He said it not even an hour ago with the wind and the rain as his witness and a really huge bird snapping lightening out at him. He’ll say it again now with words Iker is more likely to understand.
Sergio’s mouth curved gently as his thumb and forefinger fanned around the long curve of Iker’s ear before tweaking the tip. Attention grabbed, Sergio stared into the warm glow of Iker’s eyes and saw the lightening flicker in the distance. And just past that, he saw forever. “Iker Casillas. I choose you.”
“Chuu,” Iker said softly, eyes wide and disbelieving. A shiver of white light skipped across his shoulders then down his back to collect at the point of his tail. Then an intensely uncomfortable look crosses his face. His eyes narrow and his mouth tried to harden into the same line he’s worn for six weeks now. It was a poor imitation. “I mean. You. Get the fuck out of my house, Ramos.”
Sergio cupped his cheeks. His smile filled with quiet laughter. “The ears don’t bother me, your tail is cute, and if what little you’ve said is true, thunderstorms are about to be my new turn on,” he said. “ I’m going to try to kiss you now because I’ve wanted to for a long time. That’s my secret. Let me in, Iker.”
::
Sergio’s smile glowed in the darkness of Iker’s bedroom, literally.
“You can stop doing that, you know. My ego is more than fine now.” Iker’s hand plays along Sergio’s belly, light arcing before his finger tips in one, two, three hops before bursting across his nipples.
“I can’t help it.” Sergio let the feeling spiral out through his body with a sigh. “It’s amazing.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. How often do you build up a charge?”
“It depends really, but during storms I gain so much energy it’s hard to release it safely all at once. But slow, and steady?” He snapped his fingers. The lights went out. Sergio’s legs were pushed open by Iker’s thick body. “Safe and feels like heaven.”
A tiny light flared beneath the covers illuminating the shape of Iker's hand along Sergio's cock. Iker’s grin became smug.
“Oh my god!” Sergio panted. “Wait. That’s what you were doing on the balcony? That is. God, that is insanely hot.”
:: 5253
inspired by this picture!
::
*Translation:
“It has been many long years that I, Zapdos, have flown on the storms of these skies, yet never had I thought my eyes would see the ‘get of the fabled werémon so willful in their struggle of head and heart! The call has been sent to you thrice and you still refuse to answer. Why? Now I, Zapdos have come for answers and if they are lacking, met punishment!
“Fool! Though I am not skilled in the language of man, I know that you are preparing for battle. Fool I call you again, for the battle skills of the werémon are nothing without knowledge to guide them. You, who allows ignorance rule him, stand no chance before me.
“What of your friend? Will you put him in danger for your foolish pride?
“Your silence says you believe my threats are baseless. Let me remind you, werémon, we three birds of legend signed no accord with the humans. The danger is real.”
“I am Iker of the Casillas clan. If you try to harm him, I will fight you.”
“Kiker? I know the Casillas clan but I do not know of a Kiker. But I will sing of your death in the heart of the storms so that they might know of your foolish youth wasted.”
“Iker, you pompous…. Zapdos.”
“Iker! Of course. The Pokémon Council sits content to stay an open secret and use the monies obtained from their agreement to by safe havens for our kind. Yet they ignore the danger growing within our world. We, the wild and the legendary, know the call of freedom and will fight to grant all our kind this gift. I come to ask you to join us, Iker of the Casillas clan.”
“What danger? Get to the point!”
“The pokémon are in crisis! The temples of our ancients and the humans who stood beside us have been locked from the world for millennia, our secrets hidden, our lives safe. But two have been raided within the past month and the temple guardians have been laid low. It will take many, many moons for them to recover. Across the globe, pokémon are being chased by an unknown group. They even dared to set foot in Japan though the mistake cost them greatly. Again, I ask you, join us, Iker of the Casillas clan.”
“Is this true? The council has tried many, many times to leverage my media personality to their cause. Is this another tactic? I have to ask because I value my freedom as well.”
“It is all true. We need your talents to save our world.”
“I can’t be quick to answer because I have responsibilities, but, I will help you, Zaptos, however I can, whenever I am able.”
“We ask that you journey to the foreign lands as your position with Real Madrid allows and seek answers. Yes, of course we watch the matches; you are an inspiration to the entire world, human and we spirits.”
“Is he your trainer then? Do you belong to him?”
“He’s my friend.”
“Friend. Friend that is a word I know well. It is good that you have a friend, Iker of the Casillas clan. It’s all we ever want. To belong to someone. Fare thee well, Iker Casillas.”