Send Somebody
Title: Send Somebody
Pairing/Characters: Alexis Sánchez/Thiago Alcantara
Words: 970
Rating/Warnings: PG; none
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and should not be taken seriously. Title and cut text are from Send Somebody by Colin Hay. The death of Alexis' father and promise to him are factual.
His first days in Barcelona are hard, harder than he ever imagined they would be, because his dad isn’t here with him. The man he called his father in every way except biologically died a month before the transfer was completed, but not before reminding him of the promise he once made. One day, he would play for Barcelona and make the old man proud.
He’s happy to be here, so happy this chapter in his life is beginning, but it still hurts a little as he goes through his first training session. He listens to Pep’s instructions, exploit the space, learn to make everything out of nothing, and dives into the passing drills headfirst, focused on the ball and not his heartache.
Afterwards, Carles comes over to pat his shoulder and tell him he did a good job, co-captains Xavi, Andrés, and Victor following suit. The quartet keeps the team running smoothly, welcoming newcomers in and making them feel like they’re a part of a family. Alexis is thankful for it. His outgoing personality makes everyone gravitate towards him, but this is all so new.
Over the next week, he jokes with Cesc and Gerard at training, dances with Dani in the queue for food at team lunches, and helps Ibrahim with his Spanish when the midfielder can’t remember a few of his words.
It’s Carles who really notices first, the sadness behind the young man’s eyes. But he knows his story. Pep learnt of it from Bielsa, and told the captain to keep an eye on the new player, make sure he’s fitting in, not dwelling on everything too much or caving under the pressure that playing at Barcelona carries. Carles doesn’t ask about it, just always greets Alexis with a smile and asks how he’s settling in. He doesn’t have to ask anyway, because he’s not the only one who has noticed, but he’s the only one who knows better.
They’ve done it. Supercup is theirs after a 2-0 over Porto in Monaco. The huge bottles of champagne are pulled out and Xavi lifts the cup as the golden confetti falls around them. Alexis grins, but his jaw aching as he fights the need to cry. He’s been at Barça only a week, and they’ve already won two titles. Even in his dreams it was never this beautiful. The players pass the cup around, Dani kissing it so fiercely Victor makes a big show of wiping it off before holding it on his head.
Thiago watches Alexis, brow furrowed and head tilted ever so slightly to the side. How could someone who just won a cup look so sad?
The next few hours are a blur of the mixed zone, being checked by the physios, showers, and a noisy bus ride back to the hotel, and somehow Alexis manages to keep it together. Then all of a sudden he’s back in the room he’s sharing with Thiago and it’s so quiet and all of the emotions he has been holding down for the past three hours well up in his throat.
He chokes on a sob, and Thiago’s head whips around from his Blackberry so quickly for a moment he thinks he has pulled a muscle in his neck.
“Alex? Are you okay?”
In that tiny flicker of a moment between the first sob and the second, Alexis thinks about lying and saying yes. But it’s so obvious that he’s not, he knows there’s no point.
“No. No, I’m not.”
He sinks down onto the edge of his bed with his face in his hands as the tears come freely now, his whole body shaking.
Thiago stares, once again bewildered by the man before him. He doesn’t know why he’s so upset, or what to do. So he does the only thing he can. He sits down beside him and wraps his arms around his shoulders, and holds.
Alexis can’t help but turn into Thiago’s shoulder, arms slipping around his waist as the midfielder rubs his back.
When it’s over he feels cleansed, his insides burning like they’ve been rubbed raw. Then he realises the position he’s in, arms around Thiago, chin resting on his shoulder and pulls back. He nearly falls off the bed and scrambles to right himself, looking anywhere but his teammate.
“I am so sorry,” he mumbles awkwardly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Thiago says quickly, his stomach in knots. He suddenly misses the other man’s close proximity, the warmth of him, and it throws him off balance. His hands feel empty and he doesn’t like it. “Seemed like you needed that.”
“Yeah, I…did.” Alexis pauses, biting down hard on his tongue. “Listen, if you could not say anything -“
“Of course not.”
No more words are spoken between them as they take turns showering and preparing for sleep, Alexis first, Thiago second, both men trying to piece together their feelings into some sort of picture. While Thiago is in the shower, Alexis climbs into bed, his body forming to the mattress, pain coming as the pressure is taken off his joints. He sighs and wonders how he could put himself into that position, crying into a teammates shoulder without even thinking about it.
But then he remembers the concern in Thiago’s dark eyes and it feels right.
If either man thought it would be awkward in the morning, they were wrong. They’re up early, joking as they prepare to return to Barcelona as champions once again. There’s something changed between them though, something Alexis can’t quite put his finger on. It’s in the way Thiago touches his arm as they let the door of the hotel room swing shut behind them, like everything that happened would be staying inside. Except it isn’t that exactly.
And whatever this is, he wants this in Barcelona.
Pairing/Characters: Alexis Sánchez/Thiago Alcantara
Words: 970
Rating/Warnings: PG; none
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and should not be taken seriously. Title and cut text are from Send Somebody by Colin Hay. The death of Alexis' father and promise to him are factual.
His first days in Barcelona are hard, harder than he ever imagined they would be, because his dad isn’t here with him. The man he called his father in every way except biologically died a month before the transfer was completed, but not before reminding him of the promise he once made. One day, he would play for Barcelona and make the old man proud.
He’s happy to be here, so happy this chapter in his life is beginning, but it still hurts a little as he goes through his first training session. He listens to Pep’s instructions, exploit the space, learn to make everything out of nothing, and dives into the passing drills headfirst, focused on the ball and not his heartache.
Afterwards, Carles comes over to pat his shoulder and tell him he did a good job, co-captains Xavi, Andrés, and Victor following suit. The quartet keeps the team running smoothly, welcoming newcomers in and making them feel like they’re a part of a family. Alexis is thankful for it. His outgoing personality makes everyone gravitate towards him, but this is all so new.
Over the next week, he jokes with Cesc and Gerard at training, dances with Dani in the queue for food at team lunches, and helps Ibrahim with his Spanish when the midfielder can’t remember a few of his words.
It’s Carles who really notices first, the sadness behind the young man’s eyes. But he knows his story. Pep learnt of it from Bielsa, and told the captain to keep an eye on the new player, make sure he’s fitting in, not dwelling on everything too much or caving under the pressure that playing at Barcelona carries. Carles doesn’t ask about it, just always greets Alexis with a smile and asks how he’s settling in. He doesn’t have to ask anyway, because he’s not the only one who has noticed, but he’s the only one who knows better.
They’ve done it. Supercup is theirs after a 2-0 over Porto in Monaco. The huge bottles of champagne are pulled out and Xavi lifts the cup as the golden confetti falls around them. Alexis grins, but his jaw aching as he fights the need to cry. He’s been at Barça only a week, and they’ve already won two titles. Even in his dreams it was never this beautiful. The players pass the cup around, Dani kissing it so fiercely Victor makes a big show of wiping it off before holding it on his head.
Thiago watches Alexis, brow furrowed and head tilted ever so slightly to the side. How could someone who just won a cup look so sad?
The next few hours are a blur of the mixed zone, being checked by the physios, showers, and a noisy bus ride back to the hotel, and somehow Alexis manages to keep it together. Then all of a sudden he’s back in the room he’s sharing with Thiago and it’s so quiet and all of the emotions he has been holding down for the past three hours well up in his throat.
He chokes on a sob, and Thiago’s head whips around from his Blackberry so quickly for a moment he thinks he has pulled a muscle in his neck.
“Alex? Are you okay?”
In that tiny flicker of a moment between the first sob and the second, Alexis thinks about lying and saying yes. But it’s so obvious that he’s not, he knows there’s no point.
“No. No, I’m not.”
He sinks down onto the edge of his bed with his face in his hands as the tears come freely now, his whole body shaking.
Thiago stares, once again bewildered by the man before him. He doesn’t know why he’s so upset, or what to do. So he does the only thing he can. He sits down beside him and wraps his arms around his shoulders, and holds.
Alexis can’t help but turn into Thiago’s shoulder, arms slipping around his waist as the midfielder rubs his back.
When it’s over he feels cleansed, his insides burning like they’ve been rubbed raw. Then he realises the position he’s in, arms around Thiago, chin resting on his shoulder and pulls back. He nearly falls off the bed and scrambles to right himself, looking anywhere but his teammate.
“I am so sorry,” he mumbles awkwardly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Thiago says quickly, his stomach in knots. He suddenly misses the other man’s close proximity, the warmth of him, and it throws him off balance. His hands feel empty and he doesn’t like it. “Seemed like you needed that.”
“Yeah, I…did.” Alexis pauses, biting down hard on his tongue. “Listen, if you could not say anything -“
“Of course not.”
No more words are spoken between them as they take turns showering and preparing for sleep, Alexis first, Thiago second, both men trying to piece together their feelings into some sort of picture. While Thiago is in the shower, Alexis climbs into bed, his body forming to the mattress, pain coming as the pressure is taken off his joints. He sighs and wonders how he could put himself into that position, crying into a teammates shoulder without even thinking about it.
But then he remembers the concern in Thiago’s dark eyes and it feels right.
If either man thought it would be awkward in the morning, they were wrong. They’re up early, joking as they prepare to return to Barcelona as champions once again. There’s something changed between them though, something Alexis can’t quite put his finger on. It’s in the way Thiago touches his arm as they let the door of the hotel room swing shut behind them, like everything that happened would be staying inside. Except it isn’t that exactly.
And whatever this is, he wants this in Barcelona.