Fic: Meeting the Parents (Family Portrait, Part IV) (Various Pairings)
Title: Meeting the parents (Family Portrait, Part IV)
Rating: G
Pairing(s): Gary Neville/Ryan Giggs; Nemanja Vidic/Rio Ferdinand
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything, no money made. And still lovin’ it…
Author’s Notes: This is for hiro_chan , who turned…older this week. I know I’m late as always, but happy belated birthday to you, big sister - I love (and miss) you so, so much, and hope you had the most fantastic of days :) And, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about t’other one. I’m working on it!
Part One, Two and Three via the Family Portrait tag.
"They are going to be here any minute now!" Ryan was racing around the house, scooping up toy cars, dolls, felt pens and various other items that lay scattered about on the floor. Dropping a load of toys into the basket in the living room, he hurried to the utility room, dragged out the hoover, wheeled it through the kitchen - and froze just when he was about to re-enter the living room.
Noa’s head appeared from under a heap of dolls, teddy bears and the occasional felt-pen and squealed in delight as she held up her favourite cuddling toy, a soft toy called Iggle Piggle. Her happy little face, however, assumed a look of confusion as Ryan dropped the hoover onto the ground and exasperatedly started to tear his hair.***Meanwhile, unnoticed by the inhabitants of the house, two men were walking past carefully arranged flower pots lining the unevenly mowed strip of grass towards the front door.
“Do I look okay?” Rio asked for the umpteenth time since they had left the flat just above the music store a few metres down the road. He straightened his shirt, brushed an imaginary bit of dust off his jeans and used his hands to comb through his short, black hair.
“You look fine,” Nemanja told him for the umpteenth time since they had left the flat, the affectionate undertone fading a little after he’d repeated the phrase for the fiftieth time. He, too, felt a bit anxious - but rather because he knew what expected them, and even though he knew that Ryan had probably held a Boyfriend Briefing the day before.
“You’ll be fine,” he added and squeezed Rio’s hand briefly. And Rio, who had been scanning the windows for any activity behind the white, clean curtains, squeezed his hand briefly in return, one corner of his mouth curling up in a small, anxious smile.
“Gotta remember Paul’s the small one and Ole has the curls,” he joked nervously and again ran a hand through his hair. “You did say your dad got rid of the cricket bat, right?”
Nemanja grinned, but quickly turned serious. “He just wants me to be happy,” he said, and after a short pause: “He’s just got a funny way of showing it.” And with that, Nemanja reached out to ring the door bell.
***
The ringing of the door bell sounded through the house and sent the family into sudden activity.
Owen, who had been talking about nothing else but his brother’s visit all day and had spent the last fifteen minutes excitedly bouncing up and down on the settee (unnerving everyone else in the process), suddenly grew very quiet and was anxiously trying to be as close to Ryan, Gary or one of his brothers as possible.
Ole and Paul interrupted their game of cards and exchanged meaningful glances, grinning as they anticipated the situation that had been subject of their bedtime discussions and jokes in the past weeks.
Upstairs, a door opened, hit the wall with a loud bang and slammed shut again. Shortly after, the sound of a herd of buffalos charging downstairs announced the arrival of Wayne and Ronnie, who were racing each other to the front door.
“I AM FIRST; I OPEN THE -”
“YOU MADE ME FALL OFF BED; YOU CHEAT, RONNIE IS OPENING -”
Ryan, who had alternatively been patting little Owen’s head and trying to keep Noa away from the toy basket, which had miraculously become the most interesting thing in the house once he had forbidden her to go anywhere near it, got up from his seat and went to open the door, not without a warning glance in Gary’s direction. With Noa on his arm and Owen holding on to his leg, he exited the living room.
Just don’t you ruin it, Ryan’s glance seemed to say, and Gary wondered how he had gained the reputation of an overprotective father who chased after boyfriends with a cricket bat. Sure, he was a bit apprehensive whenever one of his sons introduced a new partner to the family, and maybe he’d been a tad too honest on one or two occasions; but there was clearly nothing wrong with that. After all, if it was to last, he’d be stuck with them for the rest of his life, and therefore there was no use in beating around the bush. With that thought, he switched off the TV, sighed and stood up to join the rest of the family in the hall.
***
Nemanja was starting to worry about the image Rio might have of his family. It had been a minute since he had rang the doorbell, and so far the only reaction from inside had been the thundering sound of little boys’ feet on the stairs, and then a heated argument about who was allowed to open the door. But just when he opened his mouth to assure his boyfriend that this was actually normal, the door did the same, and a beaming Ryan welcomed them to the house, somehow managing to shake hands with Rio and hug his oldest son while still carrying Noa and avoiding to trip over little Owen, who still clung to his legs.
While Nemanja was being besieged by his little brothers, Rio shook hands with Gary.
“Nice to meet you, Mr Neville,” he said, a little awkwardly - while he felt that Ryan had instantly liked him and trusted his son’s choice of friends, he wasn’t too sure with Gary.
Gary’s eyes clearly said that he still had to decide whether he considered it nice to meet his son’s boyfriend or not, but Ryan’s instructions had been clear. Admitting to himself that Rio seemed a decent bloke, but reluctant to jump to conclusions just now, he stayed in the kitchen and listened to Ryan and Rio making small talk while Nemanja was being dragged upstairs.
”So, tell us, what’s he like?” Paul leaned forward. They were all assembled in his and Ole’s room, for it was the biggest of the children’s rooms. Five pairs of eyes (Noa and Owen had stayed downstairs) watched Nemanja curiously.
“I…um. He’s nice?” Nemanja sheepishly scratched his head.
“Just nice?” Ole asked, incredulously.
“Riii-o and Nemaaaan-ja, kissing in a tree…” The singsong faded into giggles when Nemanja shot his little brothers a murderous glare.
“Well, I like him,” he said, turning to Ole, Paul and Alan, who occupied Paul’s bed.
“You like him?” This time, it was Paul who sceptically raised an eyebrow.
Nemanja sighed exasperatedly. “Oh, for fuck's sake, I love him to bits, okay?”
A cheer went up from Paul’s bed.
“How often do you shag?” Alan wanted to know.
Then, the first pillow sailed through the air.
***
“I’ll beat him up if he hurts Nem,” Wayne told Ronnie later with all the seriousness of a responsible sibling, watching the interrogation from a corner of the room, where he and his brother were engaged in a half-hearted game of Guess The Theme Tune while they were waiting for Ryan to call them to dinner.
Ronnie nodded emphatically in response. “We could show him naughty,” he added eagerly and smiled widely at his brother, apparently very satisfied with his brilliant idea.
But Wayne just shot him a quizzical glance in return. “What?”
“Is what Daddy does to Dad when Dad’s been naughty,” Ronnie explained, very excited to know something Wayne obviously didn’t know. “Is punishment for when Dad make Daddy funny red spots! - I think,” he added and cocked his head, sunning himself in Wayne’s astonishment at this little tidbit of parental gossip.
Showing naughty - it sounded painful, though Wayne was not quite sure what this form of punishment looked like. But surely it was worth keeping it in the back of his mind, just in case. With that thought, Wayne returned to their game; but from time to time, he would throw a quick glance over to the other side of the room, where his father and Rio were still sitting on the couch, talking.
Meanwhile, Gary had finished questioning Rio about his financial situation, and had moved on to carefully evaluating his son’s boyfriend’s taste in music. So far, he wasn’t impressed. Rio apparently thought he was talking about sweets and kept mentioning M&Ms, and neither knew the Carpenters nor the Smiths.
“Yeah, I’m into rap and all that,” Rio said, sensing Gary’s reservation, “but ya know, loads of people come into my store and are like, Rio man, got any classics, like, the Beatles and stuff? Class.”
Gary frowned and then nodded, slowly, like a man who reluctantly acknowledged the fact that the earth revolved around the sun - if only because there was nothing that could be done about it. “True,” he said, and added after a short pause, “Guess we ’ave to give that to the scousers, then.”
Rio slumped a little in his seat. Nem had made it sound really easy. “Just don’t mention Liverpool,” he’d said. “Don’t talk about things that were invented after 1980,” he’d said. “Don’t mention any rap whatsoever,” he’d said. But so far, the conversation seemed to inevitably steer towards those topics, and Rio meanwhile suspected that Nemanja’s father was doing it on purpose.
He therefore was eternally grateful when Ryan finally announced that dinner was on the table; only now, faced with Sunday roast, Yorkshire puddings and the smell of rich gravy, he realised that he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning.
Conversation now became more relaxed; Alan interviewed him about the newest acts from the United States, and soon tested his knowledge about rappers he liked. Ryan was interested in how he had come to move from London to Manchester, and listened with interest while he fed Noa with potatoes, only interrupting Rio to ask questions or to chide Wayne and Ronnie, who noisily chucked their food at each other. Even shy Owen started to warm up to his brother’s boyfriend, and listened to his stories with his mouth wide open, until Gary had to remind him that his plate was still half full.
There was a little awkward moment, however, when Paul nudged Ole, grinned and whispered something in his ear. Following this, Ole frantically tried not to choke on his vegetables, while Paul announced to the puzzled rest of the family that Nemanja and Rio were holding hands under the table.
Both blushed deeply, and were anxious to keep their hands above the table at all times for the next few minutes; but when Ryan stood up to fetch the dessert (chocolate mousse; Nemanja’s favourite) from the fridge, Rio felt Nemanja’s hand slipping back into his, entwining their fingers as if they belonged together.
***
After dinner, when the children had reluctantly gone to bed (which wasn’t like them, Ryan said, and Nemanja smiled knowingly), they moved to the living room. Sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee in hand, eating chocolates and talking animatedly, Rio found it had to imagine that he had been so anxious about meeting the parents. He even dared to ask Gary and Ryan how long they’d been together, to which both replied at the same time with “ten years” and “twelve years” - blimey, it felt longer than ten years with that git over there, Gary said, trying to cover up his embarrassment, but neither his son nor Rio missed the affectionate undertone in his voice.
Nemanja fell silent as conversation went on, content to sit in the corner of the settee that had always been his in all those years (from where he had watched football, talked to his fathers, argued with his brothers or, more recently, seen his little sister grow up a little more each day). “…really good, Mr Giggs,” Rio just said, and Nemanja smiled when his dad, obviously won over by Rio’s charm, promptly replied that “Ryan” would do. Gary followed suit, although it took, Nemanja knew without having to see, a well-placed nudge Ryan had perfected over all those years.
***
It was past one when they said their final goodbyes and made their way home, both having promised Ryan that they’d come round again as soon as possible. In the silence of a clear, cold night in November (even more so after the homely warmth of the living room), they walked along the road, each of them lost in thoughts of his own.
“I think they really like you,” Nemanja finally said, turning to look at Rio.
“Good,” Rio replied, and added after a short pause: “I think I could get used to them, too.” He grinned.
Nemanja smiled. “Welcome to the family.”
Rating: G
Pairing(s): Gary Neville/Ryan Giggs; Nemanja Vidic/Rio Ferdinand
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything, no money made. And still lovin’ it…
Author’s Notes: This is for hiro_chan , who turned…older this week. I know I’m late as always, but happy belated birthday to you, big sister - I love (and miss) you so, so much, and hope you had the most fantastic of days :) And, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about t’other one. I’m working on it!
Part One, Two and Three via the Family Portrait tag.
"They are going to be here any minute now!" Ryan was racing around the house, scooping up toy cars, dolls, felt pens and various other items that lay scattered about on the floor. Dropping a load of toys into the basket in the living room, he hurried to the utility room, dragged out the hoover, wheeled it through the kitchen - and froze just when he was about to re-enter the living room.
Noa’s head appeared from under a heap of dolls, teddy bears and the occasional felt-pen and squealed in delight as she held up her favourite cuddling toy, a soft toy called Iggle Piggle. Her happy little face, however, assumed a look of confusion as Ryan dropped the hoover onto the ground and exasperatedly started to tear his hair.***Meanwhile, unnoticed by the inhabitants of the house, two men were walking past carefully arranged flower pots lining the unevenly mowed strip of grass towards the front door.
“Do I look okay?” Rio asked for the umpteenth time since they had left the flat just above the music store a few metres down the road. He straightened his shirt, brushed an imaginary bit of dust off his jeans and used his hands to comb through his short, black hair.
“You look fine,” Nemanja told him for the umpteenth time since they had left the flat, the affectionate undertone fading a little after he’d repeated the phrase for the fiftieth time. He, too, felt a bit anxious - but rather because he knew what expected them, and even though he knew that Ryan had probably held a Boyfriend Briefing the day before.
“You’ll be fine,” he added and squeezed Rio’s hand briefly. And Rio, who had been scanning the windows for any activity behind the white, clean curtains, squeezed his hand briefly in return, one corner of his mouth curling up in a small, anxious smile.
“Gotta remember Paul’s the small one and Ole has the curls,” he joked nervously and again ran a hand through his hair. “You did say your dad got rid of the cricket bat, right?”
Nemanja grinned, but quickly turned serious. “He just wants me to be happy,” he said, and after a short pause: “He’s just got a funny way of showing it.” And with that, Nemanja reached out to ring the door bell.
***
The ringing of the door bell sounded through the house and sent the family into sudden activity.
Owen, who had been talking about nothing else but his brother’s visit all day and had spent the last fifteen minutes excitedly bouncing up and down on the settee (unnerving everyone else in the process), suddenly grew very quiet and was anxiously trying to be as close to Ryan, Gary or one of his brothers as possible.
Ole and Paul interrupted their game of cards and exchanged meaningful glances, grinning as they anticipated the situation that had been subject of their bedtime discussions and jokes in the past weeks.
Upstairs, a door opened, hit the wall with a loud bang and slammed shut again. Shortly after, the sound of a herd of buffalos charging downstairs announced the arrival of Wayne and Ronnie, who were racing each other to the front door.
“I AM FIRST; I OPEN THE -”
“YOU MADE ME FALL OFF BED; YOU CHEAT, RONNIE IS OPENING -”
Ryan, who had alternatively been patting little Owen’s head and trying to keep Noa away from the toy basket, which had miraculously become the most interesting thing in the house once he had forbidden her to go anywhere near it, got up from his seat and went to open the door, not without a warning glance in Gary’s direction. With Noa on his arm and Owen holding on to his leg, he exited the living room.
Just don’t you ruin it, Ryan’s glance seemed to say, and Gary wondered how he had gained the reputation of an overprotective father who chased after boyfriends with a cricket bat. Sure, he was a bit apprehensive whenever one of his sons introduced a new partner to the family, and maybe he’d been a tad too honest on one or two occasions; but there was clearly nothing wrong with that. After all, if it was to last, he’d be stuck with them for the rest of his life, and therefore there was no use in beating around the bush. With that thought, he switched off the TV, sighed and stood up to join the rest of the family in the hall.
***
Nemanja was starting to worry about the image Rio might have of his family. It had been a minute since he had rang the doorbell, and so far the only reaction from inside had been the thundering sound of little boys’ feet on the stairs, and then a heated argument about who was allowed to open the door. But just when he opened his mouth to assure his boyfriend that this was actually normal, the door did the same, and a beaming Ryan welcomed them to the house, somehow managing to shake hands with Rio and hug his oldest son while still carrying Noa and avoiding to trip over little Owen, who still clung to his legs.
While Nemanja was being besieged by his little brothers, Rio shook hands with Gary.
“Nice to meet you, Mr Neville,” he said, a little awkwardly - while he felt that Ryan had instantly liked him and trusted his son’s choice of friends, he wasn’t too sure with Gary.
Gary’s eyes clearly said that he still had to decide whether he considered it nice to meet his son’s boyfriend or not, but Ryan’s instructions had been clear. Admitting to himself that Rio seemed a decent bloke, but reluctant to jump to conclusions just now, he stayed in the kitchen and listened to Ryan and Rio making small talk while Nemanja was being dragged upstairs.
”So, tell us, what’s he like?” Paul leaned forward. They were all assembled in his and Ole’s room, for it was the biggest of the children’s rooms. Five pairs of eyes (Noa and Owen had stayed downstairs) watched Nemanja curiously.
“I…um. He’s nice?” Nemanja sheepishly scratched his head.
“Just nice?” Ole asked, incredulously.
“Riii-o and Nemaaaan-ja, kissing in a tree…” The singsong faded into giggles when Nemanja shot his little brothers a murderous glare.
“Well, I like him,” he said, turning to Ole, Paul and Alan, who occupied Paul’s bed.
“You like him?” This time, it was Paul who sceptically raised an eyebrow.
Nemanja sighed exasperatedly. “Oh, for fuck's sake, I love him to bits, okay?”
A cheer went up from Paul’s bed.
“How often do you shag?” Alan wanted to know.
Then, the first pillow sailed through the air.
***
“I’ll beat him up if he hurts Nem,” Wayne told Ronnie later with all the seriousness of a responsible sibling, watching the interrogation from a corner of the room, where he and his brother were engaged in a half-hearted game of Guess The Theme Tune while they were waiting for Ryan to call them to dinner.
Ronnie nodded emphatically in response. “We could show him naughty,” he added eagerly and smiled widely at his brother, apparently very satisfied with his brilliant idea.
But Wayne just shot him a quizzical glance in return. “What?”
“Is what Daddy does to Dad when Dad’s been naughty,” Ronnie explained, very excited to know something Wayne obviously didn’t know. “Is punishment for when Dad make Daddy funny red spots! - I think,” he added and cocked his head, sunning himself in Wayne’s astonishment at this little tidbit of parental gossip.
Showing naughty - it sounded painful, though Wayne was not quite sure what this form of punishment looked like. But surely it was worth keeping it in the back of his mind, just in case. With that thought, Wayne returned to their game; but from time to time, he would throw a quick glance over to the other side of the room, where his father and Rio were still sitting on the couch, talking.
Meanwhile, Gary had finished questioning Rio about his financial situation, and had moved on to carefully evaluating his son’s boyfriend’s taste in music. So far, he wasn’t impressed. Rio apparently thought he was talking about sweets and kept mentioning M&Ms, and neither knew the Carpenters nor the Smiths.
“Yeah, I’m into rap and all that,” Rio said, sensing Gary’s reservation, “but ya know, loads of people come into my store and are like, Rio man, got any classics, like, the Beatles and stuff? Class.”
Gary frowned and then nodded, slowly, like a man who reluctantly acknowledged the fact that the earth revolved around the sun - if only because there was nothing that could be done about it. “True,” he said, and added after a short pause, “Guess we ’ave to give that to the scousers, then.”
Rio slumped a little in his seat. Nem had made it sound really easy. “Just don’t mention Liverpool,” he’d said. “Don’t talk about things that were invented after 1980,” he’d said. “Don’t mention any rap whatsoever,” he’d said. But so far, the conversation seemed to inevitably steer towards those topics, and Rio meanwhile suspected that Nemanja’s father was doing it on purpose.
He therefore was eternally grateful when Ryan finally announced that dinner was on the table; only now, faced with Sunday roast, Yorkshire puddings and the smell of rich gravy, he realised that he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning.
Conversation now became more relaxed; Alan interviewed him about the newest acts from the United States, and soon tested his knowledge about rappers he liked. Ryan was interested in how he had come to move from London to Manchester, and listened with interest while he fed Noa with potatoes, only interrupting Rio to ask questions or to chide Wayne and Ronnie, who noisily chucked their food at each other. Even shy Owen started to warm up to his brother’s boyfriend, and listened to his stories with his mouth wide open, until Gary had to remind him that his plate was still half full.
There was a little awkward moment, however, when Paul nudged Ole, grinned and whispered something in his ear. Following this, Ole frantically tried not to choke on his vegetables, while Paul announced to the puzzled rest of the family that Nemanja and Rio were holding hands under the table.
Both blushed deeply, and were anxious to keep their hands above the table at all times for the next few minutes; but when Ryan stood up to fetch the dessert (chocolate mousse; Nemanja’s favourite) from the fridge, Rio felt Nemanja’s hand slipping back into his, entwining their fingers as if they belonged together.
***
After dinner, when the children had reluctantly gone to bed (which wasn’t like them, Ryan said, and Nemanja smiled knowingly), they moved to the living room. Sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee in hand, eating chocolates and talking animatedly, Rio found it had to imagine that he had been so anxious about meeting the parents. He even dared to ask Gary and Ryan how long they’d been together, to which both replied at the same time with “ten years” and “twelve years” - blimey, it felt longer than ten years with that git over there, Gary said, trying to cover up his embarrassment, but neither his son nor Rio missed the affectionate undertone in his voice.
Nemanja fell silent as conversation went on, content to sit in the corner of the settee that had always been his in all those years (from where he had watched football, talked to his fathers, argued with his brothers or, more recently, seen his little sister grow up a little more each day). “…really good, Mr Giggs,” Rio just said, and Nemanja smiled when his dad, obviously won over by Rio’s charm, promptly replied that “Ryan” would do. Gary followed suit, although it took, Nemanja knew without having to see, a well-placed nudge Ryan had perfected over all those years.
***
It was past one when they said their final goodbyes and made their way home, both having promised Ryan that they’d come round again as soon as possible. In the silence of a clear, cold night in November (even more so after the homely warmth of the living room), they walked along the road, each of them lost in thoughts of his own.
“I think they really like you,” Nemanja finally said, turning to look at Rio.
“Good,” Rio replied, and added after a short pause: “I think I could get used to them, too.” He grinned.
Nemanja smiled. “Welcome to the family.”