The $64,000 Conundrum: Chapter 11
Title: The $64,000 Conundrum: Chapter 11
Authors: fernedakki
Pairing: Daniel Agger / Fernando Torres, Steven Gerrard / Xabi Alonso, David Beckham / Iker Casillas, Gerard Pique / Cesc Fabregas (Robin Van Persie / Cesc Fabregas for now)
Rating: PG-13 (This part)
Genre: AU / Romance
Word Count: 4,385 Words
Disclaimer: This is not real.
Summary: Do you know what love is? Why do humans fall in love? Do we all have 'soul mate' waiting for us? What does it take for one to love another? Does 'love at first sight' really exist?
David Beckham will court Victoria Adams with Iker Casillas' help. Gerard Piqué will conduct an experiment because he has this bullshit love theory about dogs. Fernando Torres loves piano and hates Daniel Agger. And Xabi Alonso has this penchant of solving every mystery in the world.
Their journeys through the teenage years will lead you to the discovery of the biggest conundrum in the universe, and back.
Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
A/N: Hello, there, I'm back! Sorry that I've been disappeared for like, two whole months, been caught up in workload and everything. Though I can't promise that I'll post new chapters every 1-2 weeks like before from now on because I mightn't have time to write them that fast, but I promise I won't keep you guys waiting long and that I plan to finish this story no matter what (hope it won't take more than a year to achieve it, LOL).
One more thing for LFC's fan, my country was on the route of their pre-season tour (not that hard to guess, actually, since they'd been to only a few) and I've met them, like, very close. And FYI, Agger is now climbing to the top rank of the nicest and most handsome lad in the squad in my country; you won't believe how many fanclubs he has here, I still can't believe it, LOL. Well, of course I think he's handsome but just never thought he'll be THIS handsome, and he's so freaking nice; he went out of his way to give fans his autograph and shirts and even shoes (come on, shoes! -*-) all the time, which was kind of really out of his badass character, if you ask me. Nonetheless, with those cuteness (and the good looks, of course), everytime I saw him in person (I stalked him if you'd need to know, LOL) I think I might melt and die.
Oh, and even the reporter of the match called him 'the handsome Agger' or 'Agger, the superstar' all the freaking time (in our language of course so he didn't understand) which was quite fuuny because the reporter is quite well-known for his queerness.
Okay, enough for the babbling. Let's get on with the series I've been left you hanging for two months. Seriously, you have to thank Agger because seeing him inspired me to write again. ;)
The $64,000 Conundrum
Chapter 11
"You're too soft, Torres. Be fiercer."
Fernando sighed, took the strap and pulled the electric guitar out through his head. "I won't do this, Agger." Playing classical guitar was one thing, electric one was another. Fernando loved music but he wasn't an expert in all genres, he loved slow and soft songs: R&B for example, Rock was less favourable, nonetheless.
Agger glared at him. "You have to if you want to come with me tomorrow."
Fernando glared back. "What? Where?" You might think when someone said something like that, you'd have arranged some meetings before. But with Agger..., no? Fernando absolutely had no idea.
"You'll see." Catching the new Spanish guitar which was laid against the couch, the Dane strummed. "Keep practicing the electric guitar."
"Why do I need to?" Fernando simmered. "I don't like the sound of it, grate my ears."
"You can't only play classical guitars, Torres." Agger made strong and high-pitched sounds with the Spanish guitar in annoyance. The Spaniard grimaced.
"Pray tell why could not I, Daniel Agger?" He emphasized the Dane's full name, slumped in the lower bunk bed and put the electric guitar aside while kicking at the jumbled wires at his feet. He found it amusing yet frustrating that the other boy tried to order him around.
"Because you're too soft, with that girlish face and blond hair and playing piano and all!" Agger snarled, abruptly sprang out of the couch to the bed and the blonde stiffened up, thought the other boy was going to attack him but the Dane just dashed to snatch the electric guitar from beside Fernando. The Spaniard pouted.
"There's nothing wrong with my face, my hair, and my piano skill," he said.
"Yes, there is." Agger retuned his electric guitar while still standing nearby. Fernando started to get angry now.
"I don't recall I need your approval of anything," he snarled and turned around to his bag, fishing a textbook out. The Dane stopped mid-tuning and raised his brow.
"What's that?"
"A book." Fernando lay down on the bed, ignoring the other boy and leafing through the pages.
"Are we having any test soon?" Agger asked. The Spaniard snorted.
"Not that I know of."
"Not that I care anyway, nerd."
"Is that a problem to you?"
"What's a problem to me?"
"That I'm a nerd, soft, and only play - what did you call it? Oh, queer instruments." He turned the page, it's his new book about the Mayan's lost civilization.
"Everything about you is my problem since the first day I met you." Agger played the guitar louder. The blonde snapped the book shut.
"If my presence bothers you that much," he seethed, "there's no need to be in each other's company."
"The door's there." The Dane pointed.
The Spaniard sprang out of bed, book in hand, strode to the door and out without hesitation, banged the door shut loudly behind.
He had nowhere to go, anyway. It's late but someone's still in the living room, watching the telly, it's Stephanie.
"Torres," the girl greeted.
"Stephanie," he replied and was thinking about slipping out the front door to the porch.
"It's cold out there." The girl might simply read his mind. "Why are you downstairs, anyway?"
"Err, I need some silence for my reading." He waved the book.
"Oh, I thought you and Dan fought again."
Fernando froze.
"You fought with Dan, didn't you?" Stephanie smirked knowingly. She straightened up in the sofa, a pillow in her lap, patting the space beside her in invitation. "What did he do this time?"
"Err...,"
"Tell me." Stephanie narrowed her eyes and Fernando felt the compulsion to walk over and sit primly beside her. Daniel's sister was even scarier than the boy himself.
"He called me a nerd." The Spaniard waved his book again. Stephanie raised her brow.
"Well, you actually are, but that's none of his business."
"Exactly!" Fernando cried out. "He said everything about me was a problem to him since the first day we met!"
"And when was that, actually?"
"Five minutes ago-"
"No, I meant 'the first day you met'." Propping her chin in her hand, Stephanie looked at him amusingly.
"What's that have to do with anything?" Fernando snarled. "He hates me, isn't that simple enough?!" And the Spaniard found his heart ache by his own words. After Fernando had thought he got the messages right, that he couldn't misinterpret Agger's doings, after all this time, he couldn't believe that it still came out like this.
"You know what? Daniel is a very good big brother," Stephanie said. "He has a foul mouth, true, but most of the time he doesn't really mean what he says. Most of the time, what he says could be interpreted in more than one way. He's not the one who's good with words, at the same time, he's the one who's really good at it."
Fernando didn't understand at all. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"He always has a go at Marco and me," the girl explained. "Revile us with abrasive words until sometimes they made us cry. But then he'd pat our heads, teach our homework or cook for us. He'd never apologized, never consoled, he couldn't sweet talk, he doesn't know how to, so he expresses his true feelings through something else: his actions, or music." The Spaniard stared at the girl incredulously as the information sank in, all the things Agger had said, done and played reran through his baffled mind. "So basically, when he said everything about you was a problem to him, it could be interpreted more than just that you'd annoyed him."
Fernando frowned. "What could it mean otherwise?"
Stephanie smirked. "Well, for one, you'd provoked him?"
The Spaniard blushed scarlet and Stephanie giggled. "Or you could simply just don't listen to him, that's what I really want to advise."
"What are you doing here?"
Both Stephanie and Fernando startled. At the doorway stood Daniel. They'd been caught up in the conversation until neither noticed the sound of the Dane’s footsteps, or maybe it's just because Daniel walked very softly, which was kind of out of his loud character.
"Hi, Dan." Stephanie smiled instigatingly. "We're just talking about you."
"What?" Agger simply snarled.
"Is there a problem?" The girl raised her brow and Fernando found that it might be quite annoying from Daniel's point of view.
"No. Torres, are you coming up or not?"
Fernando stiffened but Stephanie answered for him, "of course, he is." She kicked Fernando's ankle. The Spaniard glanced at the other Dane looming at the doorway and sighed, Stephanie's words churned in his head while he got up and walked over to Agger.
"Good night, Torres," the girl called after him.
"Good night," he replied and stalked past Agger without a glance. The Danish boy said something to Stephanie in Danish and Fernando heard him trail up the stairs not far behind. He got into the room first and Agger shut the door behind them.
"Don't listen to her, whatever the fuck she said about me," the Dane spoke up the moment they're alone in the room. Fernando turned around, gaped.
"For your information, your sister only said good things about you!" The anger that had subsided since he went downstairs had come creeping back, now it's on behalf of Stephanie though the blonde doubted she would be crossed at her lovely big brother at all.
"I know," Agger muttered, again snatched his electric guitar and buzzed the strings loudly. Fernando froze, then slowly smiled as he understood what the Dane desperately tried to hide.
Mr. Agger’s afraid that his bad boy image would be ruined, isn't he? Nonetheless, wasn't going down to fetch him back up an attempt to make him forgive?
It works, by the way.
***
Steven Gerrard was English, that's what he'd already known, but more than that, he's a Scouser living in the city of Liverpool.
His accent was really weird in his Scouse way while Xabi's was weird in his own Spanish way, and frankly they're both very difficult to decipher. When they tried to hold a conversation, Xabi could understand only half of it but Gerrard didn't seem to mind and tried even harder to talk like normal English people, which failed utterly.
It'd been two weeks into the camp and Jaguar was ranked lower than Liver Bird still. Steven wasn't actually a genius in science compared with other top students, but he had this special charisma for being a ringleader. After the muddy incident on that bright summer evening, the English kept accosting Xabi and his friends and also brought his own friends: Milan Baros, Igor Biscan and Ryan Babel, with him every other time. Ryan was a Dutch and he and Dirk had known each other before, so putting team rivalries aside, they'd got along quite well and easily.
Another day ended with sparkling delighted feelings in his chest, the afternoon held another physics experiment related to Brownian Motion and Xabi's very happy that their team had the highest score in this task.
An arm slung around his shoulder while he's walking away from the lab, Xabi turned around and was a bit surprised that it's Steven’s.
"You got the highest score," he said, smile hovered at the corner of his lips though he kept staring ahead thus Xabi couldn't see it clearly.
"Well, yours weren't too bad."
"I had done nothing." The Scouser turned around and pulled his arm back, the corner of his lips quirked up even more. Xabi's brows furrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"I know you'd done most of the task, all if it comes to physics."
"Yeah, and that allocates very well with my participation when it comes to other subjects."
"I don't have any forte, if you'll compare me with others." Steven wrinkled his nose. "I'm only average."
"If you're ‘only average’, you'd have never got in here in the first place," the Basque said, then pointed out, "you've that leadership charisma."
"My teammates barely understand what I say." The Scouser chuckled at his own joke. Xabi smiled, was about to counter with a comment about the other boy's accent when Steven said, "hey, are you free this evening?"
Xabi frowned. "Yeah, I guess so." It's five in the evening and they had two-hour free period until dinner. Most boys had already found activities to kill their time, some playing football while some simply taking off their shirts and plunging into the marsh. Girls giggled as they walked by.
"Want some fun?" Steven asked, naughtiness in his eyes took Xabi aback.
"What is it?"
"You're in then?"
The Spaniard crossed his arms over his chest. "This is breaking the rules, isn't it?"
The Scouser cocked his head a bit, asking innocently, "Are there any rules?"
"What's your plan?" Xabi's eyes narrowed. Steven smiled.
"Coming?" He asked as putting both hands in his pockets and walking backwards away from the route to their cabins, raising his brows like challenging the other boy to follow. The Basque quirked his brow but simply trailing after Steven silently.
It had taken about ten minutes before Xabi realized they'd arrived at the fence. There's no one around and all was silent, from here they could easily climb the fence out to the whole world beyond. "Are we going out?" He asked incredulously.
Steven snickered. "We are if you want to.”
"Only us two?" Xabi asked. "Well, I'm fine with it." And that made Steven’s smile apparent.
"Right. So," he nodded to the fence and the whole England awaiting, "let's go then?"
"Where next?" Steven asked. They'd just got out of Adidas store in the downtown and the sun was hovering over the architectures of Liverpool on the far horizon sending coral rays saturating the cloudless sky. They'd walked around, popped in and out of every other store with nothing much back out. Tepid wind brought the scent of the sea to impregnate the air until the atmosphere was full of serenity as well as indolence. Seagulls squawked over the roofs every time they flew inland to check how the human world's doing before returning to the dock again. They'd been strolling around for an hour and a half and it's already seven which meant his stomach had started grumbling.
"I'm hungry," he said.
"Oh, then let’s go to Albert Dock. There're quite a lot of choices of restaurants there."
"Which way?" Xabi asked, turning around on his heels like a hyperactive child. He didn't feel tired at all, only very excited that he'd seen Liverpool by himself at last. The camp brought them out to visit the city once but focusing only on educational purpose, they went to The Beatles Story and Merseyside Maritime Museum, which was so very boring. This time he's free, though he's not alone, he knew Steven would indulge him anyway, and he felt like the whole city was his, even the world.
"That way," Steven said. Without glancing at the English, Xabi walked straight to the way he already had in mind and thought was correct. A hand shot to his wrist immediately, tugged him back to the other way. "I said, this way, señor," the Scouser scolded, chuckling slightly, then his hand slid lower to the Basque's hand and held him loosely.
Xabi knew it's weird: two boys holding hands walking the street, in Spain it did and he guessed in England it should be, too. Some pedestrians looked at them twice but mostly just walked by ignorantly, yet Steven still held on and the Spaniard didn't think he should shake it off either.
They walked like that until they arrived at Albert Dock.
"What do you want to have?" The English asked without looking at Xabi.
"Any recommendations?" He looked at Steven out of the corner of his eyes.
"Okay, let's try this." The Scouser murmured and hauled the other boy along the dock. They finally reached a restaurant, it's not grand compared with others but looked lovely enough.
"What do you think?" Steven asked while they stood in front of the menu stand, browsing through the list, his right hand still held Xabi's and the Basque felt clamminess of sweats between the tightness of their palms.
Xabi didn't even glance at the menu when he said, "Whatever you like," the stickiness on his hand made him could not concentrate.
So they stepped into the restaurant and, finally releasing each other's grasp, sat down on the opposite site of a small table for two and ordered. Dinner went by too fast for his liking, it's not that the food was very heavenly delicious, it's just okay if you really need to know. The room was bustling but Xabi still found peace in the corner of this crowded place and he wished on a whim that the world would frankly stop spinning. He liked it here, in this corner of the world with Steven.
Or it might be simply anywhere in the world with Steven?
It's eight o'clock eventually and the Scouser thought it's a wise idea that they should head back to the camp now. It might not be unusual that one didn't show up at dinner because one wasn’t hungry but it might be quite unusual if one had disappeared beyond bed time.
It took them almost an hour before they arrived at the camp by bus and sneaked back into the area. The path was dark though the sky was cloudless, so Steven fished out his mobile and used it as a torch to lead them through the woods with buzzing cicadas. The Spaniard followed suit yet still stumbled when he accidentally kicked an unforeseen tree root.
"Be careful." The Scouser caught his elbow and supported him to regain his balance, but after they'd kept walking he still didn't let go of Xabi. His hand slid down to the Basque's wrist and hesitated there, so Xabi shifted his hand up to hold it.
The return grip was tight yet shaky.
"Are you cold?" Xabi asked. It's a bit late and temperature had dropped by several degrees.
"No," Steven answered and kept leading the way through the grove. Finally they appeared at a route near the cabins, Xabi stopped just outside the copse.
"Well," he turned to the Scouser, their hands still holding loosely, "thank you for today."
"You're always welcome." Steven smiled hesitantly and Xabi saw indecision in his eyes. So he didn't step away, instead stood there, looked him in the eyes and waited for something he had no idea of.
After it had felt like forever, Steven took a deep breath, leaned in and kissed him.
***
"Ier, et eo of ee!"
David's struggling under the pillow Iker had pushed down on him, his arms and legs thrashing wildly to push the Spaniard away. Iker snickered but kept his weight on the pillow covering the other boy's face. He's practically sitting on David, clad in only boxers - the both of them - legs straddling the English boy's waist. "This is for those three times in a row," he growled, and the pain at his bottom fueled him to push the pillow down harder.
Suddenly David’s hips bucked up so high that Iker lost his balance. The British caught Iker's calves and swapped him around so the Spaniard found himself lying on his back with David on top of him in the blink of an eye.
"You like it," David pointed out victoriously, caught the pillow which still lay between their chests and thought about doing the same to Iker but changed his mind. He left it there, slid down until their hips aligned and grounded them together. The Spaniard jolted.
"What again, Dave?" Iker narrowed his eyes but didn't try to push the Londoner away. David smirked.
"Is thrice the best you can do?"
"Oh, shut the fuck up! You're not the one who bottomed!" He did shove David this time and the English guffawed. He tumbled to the side and that's when his mobile rang. The British rolled to fish his phone out of his jeans discarded on the floor.
"Victoria," David mumbled and walked out the door. Iker heard only 'hi, baby' before he's completely out of earshot.
Flopping down on the bed, the Spaniard stared at the ceiling. They're at David's house - David's room - on a chilly Sunday afternoon. The whole house was theirs since others had been out, so they decided to celebrate this actually-very-normal-occasion on David's bed for three times.
Three rounds were the most they'd tried - actually they hadn't even tried twice before. He didn't know where David got that much energy from. Though it had been a week that they hadn't had sex, so it's understandable that David's quite - a fit teenage boy that he was - very horny.
The thought of Victoria made him ache a bit. They'd just had sex - very good ones to be honest - and were in a state of after-sex cuddle or even starting a new round, but now David couldn't even reject a simple call from Victoria, which he could call back any other time that wasn't quite significant.
Well, Iker grimaced, they'd been together the whole day and this was the first call from Victoria, it's not that she called him every other hour or anything, and he should be grateful that she didn't call in the middle of their shagging and David felt the need to pick up the phone.
Damn, is he jealous or something? He acted more like a girl every passing day. And of course Victoria had the right to call David anytime she wanted, they're dating, frankly. The Spaniard growled at himself, caught the pillow off his chest and stuffed his face in it in frustration. He stayed like that until he heard footsteps outside the door so he swiftly rearranged himself: lying on his side, loosely hugging the pillow and feigning asleep.
He heard the door being opened and footfalls to the bed, the mattress dipped when it bore further weight of someone sitting on. "Iker," David's voice called out to assess the other boy's consciousness. The Spaniard lay still and tried to steady his breath. After a moment, he felt the English boy shift and an arm lay across his torso. "You must be tired. I'm sorry if that was too much for you," the words had been muttered in his ear before David snuggled up against his nape with a soft kiss on his skin.
Iker shivered and had to suppress his reaction. It's harder to hide his smile with David's arm around him, his lips on his nape and his hot breaths on him like this. Well, he's happy, isn't he? As well as David. As far as he knew, there's no trouble in paradise.
Be damned Victoria.
***
Lionel Messi was happy.
Gerard was slouching besides him in the couch, scratching behind Bazooka's ears who's coiling in his lap absentmindedly. The dog wasn't asleep but wasn't energetic either, though a couple of weeks ago he looked worse. Lionel asked what happened to him and Gerard explained that he missed his mate. The tiny Argentinean asked further until the Catalan admitted that it's because he didn't bring him to visit Cesc's puppy: Arsenal, as much as before.
Bazooka's ears perked up at the mention of 'Arsenal' and 'Cesc', his eyes which drooped most of the time he lay there now opened wide like two dark crystal balls. Lionel noticed that. "And why is that?" He quirked his brow up questioningly. Gerard sighed.
"Because I've spent most of my free time with you."
And Lionel felt like a culprit because of that, because Gerard chose to be with him, the puppy wasn't as lively as before. He wondered whether Cesc's puppy's condition was the same. "Yeah," Gerard answered when he asked.
"You should visit Cesc more often then," Lionel pointed out. Gerard's shoulder stiffened and he interpreted it that he didn’t like the advice very much. "I can go with you if you want."
Gerard's shoulder stiffened even harder. "Nah." He scooped the ickle Chihuahua up and put him on the floor. Bazooka growled a bit in dissatisfaction but the Catalan ignored him. "We can't spoil them too much, can we? At first I thought I'd try separating them because I wanted to know the outcome, whether they would forget one another eventually. It appears they won't and though they keeps getting better, not look like dead rugs as at first, I still insist on keeping them apart at this level."
"What?" Lionel didn't understand a thing. "Why?"
"I don't want them to depend too much on one another. It's not healthy, fool even, that one's keys to happiness is in someone else’s pocket. He should be happy enough by himself. He can be happy being with his best friend, but not all the fucking time. I'm trying to teach him that."
"Will he ever understand?" Lionel looked incredulous. "I mean, he's just a puppy, Gery. He just wants to have fun with his mate."
"I'm not talking only about dogs," Gerard’s eyes kept on the Chihuahua who sauntered away in irritation and now was coiling on a new spot under the coffee table. "Human should understand this simple fact first, shouldn't give one's heart in other's hand so that they could make you happy or sad at will."
This was getting more and more confusing and Lionel didn't understand it at all. "What the hell are you talking about?" And he's a bit annoyed by the Spaniard’s perception of happiness. He knew Gerard wasn't talking about him, but still..., "You mean if it was you, you wouldn't let anyone, even me, have your heart?"
Gerard startled, he raked his brain to come up with a suitable answer, but found none. He sighed. "I'm not talking about you."
"Then who were you talking about?" Lionel was frustrated. It's not once that Gerard had done this, but many times already, when he didn't feel like answering a question, he'd dismiss it that 'it's not this we're talking about’, 'it's not me we're talking about'.
Until Lionel thought that he had some secrets that didn't want anyone - Lionel in particular - to know.
The Argentinean bit his lip. "Gerard," he called, and the Catalan turned around uncertainly. Hesitation flashed in his dark eyes and Lionel didn't want to fucking realize what that was all about.
He lunged at the Spaniard, covering up traces of everything with his lips on the other's.
Gerard's stunned, Lionel could tell with closed eyes from the other's body that stiffened up immediately. But the tiny boy kept his eyes shut, his lips on the Catalan’s and his mind determined. It should have shocked Gerard more or less because they'd never kissed, this was their first, Lionel had never thought he would be the one who initiated it, and he doubted Gerard had, too. The Argentinean held his breath.
And when he thought Gerard would never gonna kiss him back, he did.
The Spaniard’s lips were soft when they crushed back against his. Lionel moaned in his throat, hands slid up to clutch the taller boy's shirt. It had happened only for half a minute then Gerard was the one who broke away. Lionel huffed and the Catalan panted, too, but he composed fast.
"Shall we go out to buy groceries your mum told you to buy? It's getting late," Gerard asked, his voice calm and he didn't even look wavered, like nothing out of usual had happened at all.
Lionel swallowed hard. "Sure."
"I'll get a bag," the Catalan announced, stood up and disappeared to the kitchen.
Biting his lip, Lionel looked at the doorframe Gerard had disappeared to apprehensively. No matter what the other boy was thinking, Lionel was happy because he'd just kissed him and had him by his side at this moment. For him, for now, that was enough.
One shouldn't give one's heart in other's hand so that they could make you happy or sad at will. It's not healthy, fool even, that one's keys to happiness is in someone else’s pocket.
Well, Gery, Lionel grimaced, I guess that means I'm a fool for you.
To be continued in Chapter 12.
And feedbacks are always welcome!
.
Authors: fernedakki
Pairing: Daniel Agger / Fernando Torres, Steven Gerrard / Xabi Alonso, David Beckham / Iker Casillas, Gerard Pique / Cesc Fabregas (Robin Van Persie / Cesc Fabregas for now)
Rating: PG-13 (This part)
Genre: AU / Romance
Word Count: 4,385 Words
Disclaimer: This is not real.
Summary: Do you know what love is? Why do humans fall in love? Do we all have 'soul mate' waiting for us? What does it take for one to love another? Does 'love at first sight' really exist?
David Beckham will court Victoria Adams with Iker Casillas' help. Gerard Piqué will conduct an experiment because he has this bullshit love theory about dogs. Fernando Torres loves piano and hates Daniel Agger. And Xabi Alonso has this penchant of solving every mystery in the world.
Their journeys through the teenage years will lead you to the discovery of the biggest conundrum in the universe, and back.
Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
A/N: Hello, there, I'm back! Sorry that I've been disappeared for like, two whole months, been caught up in workload and everything. Though I can't promise that I'll post new chapters every 1-2 weeks like before from now on because I mightn't have time to write them that fast, but I promise I won't keep you guys waiting long and that I plan to finish this story no matter what (hope it won't take more than a year to achieve it, LOL).
One more thing for LFC's fan, my country was on the route of their pre-season tour (not that hard to guess, actually, since they'd been to only a few) and I've met them, like, very close. And FYI, Agger is now climbing to the top rank of the nicest and most handsome lad in the squad in my country; you won't believe how many fanclubs he has here, I still can't believe it, LOL. Well, of course I think he's handsome but just never thought he'll be THIS handsome, and he's so freaking nice; he went out of his way to give fans his autograph and shirts and even shoes (come on, shoes! -*-) all the time, which was kind of really out of his badass character, if you ask me. Nonetheless, with those cuteness (and the good looks, of course), everytime I saw him in person (I stalked him if you'd need to know, LOL) I think I might melt and die.
Oh, and even the reporter of the match called him 'the handsome Agger' or 'Agger, the superstar' all the freaking time (in our language of course so he didn't understand) which was quite fuuny because the reporter is quite well-known for his queerness.
Okay, enough for the babbling. Let's get on with the series I've been left you hanging for two months. Seriously, you have to thank Agger because seeing him inspired me to write again. ;)
The $64,000 Conundrum
Chapter 11
"You're too soft, Torres. Be fiercer."
Fernando sighed, took the strap and pulled the electric guitar out through his head. "I won't do this, Agger." Playing classical guitar was one thing, electric one was another. Fernando loved music but he wasn't an expert in all genres, he loved slow and soft songs: R&B for example, Rock was less favourable, nonetheless.
Agger glared at him. "You have to if you want to come with me tomorrow."
Fernando glared back. "What? Where?" You might think when someone said something like that, you'd have arranged some meetings before. But with Agger..., no? Fernando absolutely had no idea.
"You'll see." Catching the new Spanish guitar which was laid against the couch, the Dane strummed. "Keep practicing the electric guitar."
"Why do I need to?" Fernando simmered. "I don't like the sound of it, grate my ears."
"You can't only play classical guitars, Torres." Agger made strong and high-pitched sounds with the Spanish guitar in annoyance. The Spaniard grimaced.
"Pray tell why could not I, Daniel Agger?" He emphasized the Dane's full name, slumped in the lower bunk bed and put the electric guitar aside while kicking at the jumbled wires at his feet. He found it amusing yet frustrating that the other boy tried to order him around.
"Because you're too soft, with that girlish face and blond hair and playing piano and all!" Agger snarled, abruptly sprang out of the couch to the bed and the blonde stiffened up, thought the other boy was going to attack him but the Dane just dashed to snatch the electric guitar from beside Fernando. The Spaniard pouted.
"There's nothing wrong with my face, my hair, and my piano skill," he said.
"Yes, there is." Agger retuned his electric guitar while still standing nearby. Fernando started to get angry now.
"I don't recall I need your approval of anything," he snarled and turned around to his bag, fishing a textbook out. The Dane stopped mid-tuning and raised his brow.
"What's that?"
"A book." Fernando lay down on the bed, ignoring the other boy and leafing through the pages.
"Are we having any test soon?" Agger asked. The Spaniard snorted.
"Not that I know of."
"Not that I care anyway, nerd."
"Is that a problem to you?"
"What's a problem to me?"
"That I'm a nerd, soft, and only play - what did you call it? Oh, queer instruments." He turned the page, it's his new book about the Mayan's lost civilization.
"Everything about you is my problem since the first day I met you." Agger played the guitar louder. The blonde snapped the book shut.
"If my presence bothers you that much," he seethed, "there's no need to be in each other's company."
"The door's there." The Dane pointed.
The Spaniard sprang out of bed, book in hand, strode to the door and out without hesitation, banged the door shut loudly behind.
He had nowhere to go, anyway. It's late but someone's still in the living room, watching the telly, it's Stephanie.
"Torres," the girl greeted.
"Stephanie," he replied and was thinking about slipping out the front door to the porch.
"It's cold out there." The girl might simply read his mind. "Why are you downstairs, anyway?"
"Err, I need some silence for my reading." He waved the book.
"Oh, I thought you and Dan fought again."
Fernando froze.
"You fought with Dan, didn't you?" Stephanie smirked knowingly. She straightened up in the sofa, a pillow in her lap, patting the space beside her in invitation. "What did he do this time?"
"Err...,"
"Tell me." Stephanie narrowed her eyes and Fernando felt the compulsion to walk over and sit primly beside her. Daniel's sister was even scarier than the boy himself.
"He called me a nerd." The Spaniard waved his book again. Stephanie raised her brow.
"Well, you actually are, but that's none of his business."
"Exactly!" Fernando cried out. "He said everything about me was a problem to him since the first day we met!"
"And when was that, actually?"
"Five minutes ago-"
"No, I meant 'the first day you met'." Propping her chin in her hand, Stephanie looked at him amusingly.
"What's that have to do with anything?" Fernando snarled. "He hates me, isn't that simple enough?!" And the Spaniard found his heart ache by his own words. After Fernando had thought he got the messages right, that he couldn't misinterpret Agger's doings, after all this time, he couldn't believe that it still came out like this.
"You know what? Daniel is a very good big brother," Stephanie said. "He has a foul mouth, true, but most of the time he doesn't really mean what he says. Most of the time, what he says could be interpreted in more than one way. He's not the one who's good with words, at the same time, he's the one who's really good at it."
Fernando didn't understand at all. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"He always has a go at Marco and me," the girl explained. "Revile us with abrasive words until sometimes they made us cry. But then he'd pat our heads, teach our homework or cook for us. He'd never apologized, never consoled, he couldn't sweet talk, he doesn't know how to, so he expresses his true feelings through something else: his actions, or music." The Spaniard stared at the girl incredulously as the information sank in, all the things Agger had said, done and played reran through his baffled mind. "So basically, when he said everything about you was a problem to him, it could be interpreted more than just that you'd annoyed him."
Fernando frowned. "What could it mean otherwise?"
Stephanie smirked. "Well, for one, you'd provoked him?"
The Spaniard blushed scarlet and Stephanie giggled. "Or you could simply just don't listen to him, that's what I really want to advise."
"What are you doing here?"
Both Stephanie and Fernando startled. At the doorway stood Daniel. They'd been caught up in the conversation until neither noticed the sound of the Dane’s footsteps, or maybe it's just because Daniel walked very softly, which was kind of out of his loud character.
"Hi, Dan." Stephanie smiled instigatingly. "We're just talking about you."
"What?" Agger simply snarled.
"Is there a problem?" The girl raised her brow and Fernando found that it might be quite annoying from Daniel's point of view.
"No. Torres, are you coming up or not?"
Fernando stiffened but Stephanie answered for him, "of course, he is." She kicked Fernando's ankle. The Spaniard glanced at the other Dane looming at the doorway and sighed, Stephanie's words churned in his head while he got up and walked over to Agger.
"Good night, Torres," the girl called after him.
"Good night," he replied and stalked past Agger without a glance. The Danish boy said something to Stephanie in Danish and Fernando heard him trail up the stairs not far behind. He got into the room first and Agger shut the door behind them.
"Don't listen to her, whatever the fuck she said about me," the Dane spoke up the moment they're alone in the room. Fernando turned around, gaped.
"For your information, your sister only said good things about you!" The anger that had subsided since he went downstairs had come creeping back, now it's on behalf of Stephanie though the blonde doubted she would be crossed at her lovely big brother at all.
"I know," Agger muttered, again snatched his electric guitar and buzzed the strings loudly. Fernando froze, then slowly smiled as he understood what the Dane desperately tried to hide.
Mr. Agger’s afraid that his bad boy image would be ruined, isn't he? Nonetheless, wasn't going down to fetch him back up an attempt to make him forgive?
It works, by the way.
***
Steven Gerrard was English, that's what he'd already known, but more than that, he's a Scouser living in the city of Liverpool.
His accent was really weird in his Scouse way while Xabi's was weird in his own Spanish way, and frankly they're both very difficult to decipher. When they tried to hold a conversation, Xabi could understand only half of it but Gerrard didn't seem to mind and tried even harder to talk like normal English people, which failed utterly.
It'd been two weeks into the camp and Jaguar was ranked lower than Liver Bird still. Steven wasn't actually a genius in science compared with other top students, but he had this special charisma for being a ringleader. After the muddy incident on that bright summer evening, the English kept accosting Xabi and his friends and also brought his own friends: Milan Baros, Igor Biscan and Ryan Babel, with him every other time. Ryan was a Dutch and he and Dirk had known each other before, so putting team rivalries aside, they'd got along quite well and easily.
Another day ended with sparkling delighted feelings in his chest, the afternoon held another physics experiment related to Brownian Motion and Xabi's very happy that their team had the highest score in this task.
An arm slung around his shoulder while he's walking away from the lab, Xabi turned around and was a bit surprised that it's Steven’s.
"You got the highest score," he said, smile hovered at the corner of his lips though he kept staring ahead thus Xabi couldn't see it clearly.
"Well, yours weren't too bad."
"I had done nothing." The Scouser turned around and pulled his arm back, the corner of his lips quirked up even more. Xabi's brows furrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"I know you'd done most of the task, all if it comes to physics."
"Yeah, and that allocates very well with my participation when it comes to other subjects."
"I don't have any forte, if you'll compare me with others." Steven wrinkled his nose. "I'm only average."
"If you're ‘only average’, you'd have never got in here in the first place," the Basque said, then pointed out, "you've that leadership charisma."
"My teammates barely understand what I say." The Scouser chuckled at his own joke. Xabi smiled, was about to counter with a comment about the other boy's accent when Steven said, "hey, are you free this evening?"
Xabi frowned. "Yeah, I guess so." It's five in the evening and they had two-hour free period until dinner. Most boys had already found activities to kill their time, some playing football while some simply taking off their shirts and plunging into the marsh. Girls giggled as they walked by.
"Want some fun?" Steven asked, naughtiness in his eyes took Xabi aback.
"What is it?"
"You're in then?"
The Spaniard crossed his arms over his chest. "This is breaking the rules, isn't it?"
The Scouser cocked his head a bit, asking innocently, "Are there any rules?"
"What's your plan?" Xabi's eyes narrowed. Steven smiled.
"Coming?" He asked as putting both hands in his pockets and walking backwards away from the route to their cabins, raising his brows like challenging the other boy to follow. The Basque quirked his brow but simply trailing after Steven silently.
It had taken about ten minutes before Xabi realized they'd arrived at the fence. There's no one around and all was silent, from here they could easily climb the fence out to the whole world beyond. "Are we going out?" He asked incredulously.
Steven snickered. "We are if you want to.”
"Only us two?" Xabi asked. "Well, I'm fine with it." And that made Steven’s smile apparent.
"Right. So," he nodded to the fence and the whole England awaiting, "let's go then?"
"Where next?" Steven asked. They'd just got out of Adidas store in the downtown and the sun was hovering over the architectures of Liverpool on the far horizon sending coral rays saturating the cloudless sky. They'd walked around, popped in and out of every other store with nothing much back out. Tepid wind brought the scent of the sea to impregnate the air until the atmosphere was full of serenity as well as indolence. Seagulls squawked over the roofs every time they flew inland to check how the human world's doing before returning to the dock again. They'd been strolling around for an hour and a half and it's already seven which meant his stomach had started grumbling.
"I'm hungry," he said.
"Oh, then let’s go to Albert Dock. There're quite a lot of choices of restaurants there."
"Which way?" Xabi asked, turning around on his heels like a hyperactive child. He didn't feel tired at all, only very excited that he'd seen Liverpool by himself at last. The camp brought them out to visit the city once but focusing only on educational purpose, they went to The Beatles Story and Merseyside Maritime Museum, which was so very boring. This time he's free, though he's not alone, he knew Steven would indulge him anyway, and he felt like the whole city was his, even the world.
"That way," Steven said. Without glancing at the English, Xabi walked straight to the way he already had in mind and thought was correct. A hand shot to his wrist immediately, tugged him back to the other way. "I said, this way, señor," the Scouser scolded, chuckling slightly, then his hand slid lower to the Basque's hand and held him loosely.
Xabi knew it's weird: two boys holding hands walking the street, in Spain it did and he guessed in England it should be, too. Some pedestrians looked at them twice but mostly just walked by ignorantly, yet Steven still held on and the Spaniard didn't think he should shake it off either.
They walked like that until they arrived at Albert Dock.
"What do you want to have?" The English asked without looking at Xabi.
"Any recommendations?" He looked at Steven out of the corner of his eyes.
"Okay, let's try this." The Scouser murmured and hauled the other boy along the dock. They finally reached a restaurant, it's not grand compared with others but looked lovely enough.
"What do you think?" Steven asked while they stood in front of the menu stand, browsing through the list, his right hand still held Xabi's and the Basque felt clamminess of sweats between the tightness of their palms.
Xabi didn't even glance at the menu when he said, "Whatever you like," the stickiness on his hand made him could not concentrate.
So they stepped into the restaurant and, finally releasing each other's grasp, sat down on the opposite site of a small table for two and ordered. Dinner went by too fast for his liking, it's not that the food was very heavenly delicious, it's just okay if you really need to know. The room was bustling but Xabi still found peace in the corner of this crowded place and he wished on a whim that the world would frankly stop spinning. He liked it here, in this corner of the world with Steven.
Or it might be simply anywhere in the world with Steven?
It's eight o'clock eventually and the Scouser thought it's a wise idea that they should head back to the camp now. It might not be unusual that one didn't show up at dinner because one wasn’t hungry but it might be quite unusual if one had disappeared beyond bed time.
It took them almost an hour before they arrived at the camp by bus and sneaked back into the area. The path was dark though the sky was cloudless, so Steven fished out his mobile and used it as a torch to lead them through the woods with buzzing cicadas. The Spaniard followed suit yet still stumbled when he accidentally kicked an unforeseen tree root.
"Be careful." The Scouser caught his elbow and supported him to regain his balance, but after they'd kept walking he still didn't let go of Xabi. His hand slid down to the Basque's wrist and hesitated there, so Xabi shifted his hand up to hold it.
The return grip was tight yet shaky.
"Are you cold?" Xabi asked. It's a bit late and temperature had dropped by several degrees.
"No," Steven answered and kept leading the way through the grove. Finally they appeared at a route near the cabins, Xabi stopped just outside the copse.
"Well," he turned to the Scouser, their hands still holding loosely, "thank you for today."
"You're always welcome." Steven smiled hesitantly and Xabi saw indecision in his eyes. So he didn't step away, instead stood there, looked him in the eyes and waited for something he had no idea of.
After it had felt like forever, Steven took a deep breath, leaned in and kissed him.
***
"Ier, et eo of ee!"
David's struggling under the pillow Iker had pushed down on him, his arms and legs thrashing wildly to push the Spaniard away. Iker snickered but kept his weight on the pillow covering the other boy's face. He's practically sitting on David, clad in only boxers - the both of them - legs straddling the English boy's waist. "This is for those three times in a row," he growled, and the pain at his bottom fueled him to push the pillow down harder.
Suddenly David’s hips bucked up so high that Iker lost his balance. The British caught Iker's calves and swapped him around so the Spaniard found himself lying on his back with David on top of him in the blink of an eye.
"You like it," David pointed out victoriously, caught the pillow which still lay between their chests and thought about doing the same to Iker but changed his mind. He left it there, slid down until their hips aligned and grounded them together. The Spaniard jolted.
"What again, Dave?" Iker narrowed his eyes but didn't try to push the Londoner away. David smirked.
"Is thrice the best you can do?"
"Oh, shut the fuck up! You're not the one who bottomed!" He did shove David this time and the English guffawed. He tumbled to the side and that's when his mobile rang. The British rolled to fish his phone out of his jeans discarded on the floor.
"Victoria," David mumbled and walked out the door. Iker heard only 'hi, baby' before he's completely out of earshot.
Flopping down on the bed, the Spaniard stared at the ceiling. They're at David's house - David's room - on a chilly Sunday afternoon. The whole house was theirs since others had been out, so they decided to celebrate this actually-very-normal-occasion on David's bed for three times.
Three rounds were the most they'd tried - actually they hadn't even tried twice before. He didn't know where David got that much energy from. Though it had been a week that they hadn't had sex, so it's understandable that David's quite - a fit teenage boy that he was - very horny.
The thought of Victoria made him ache a bit. They'd just had sex - very good ones to be honest - and were in a state of after-sex cuddle or even starting a new round, but now David couldn't even reject a simple call from Victoria, which he could call back any other time that wasn't quite significant.
Well, Iker grimaced, they'd been together the whole day and this was the first call from Victoria, it's not that she called him every other hour or anything, and he should be grateful that she didn't call in the middle of their shagging and David felt the need to pick up the phone.
Damn, is he jealous or something? He acted more like a girl every passing day. And of course Victoria had the right to call David anytime she wanted, they're dating, frankly. The Spaniard growled at himself, caught the pillow off his chest and stuffed his face in it in frustration. He stayed like that until he heard footsteps outside the door so he swiftly rearranged himself: lying on his side, loosely hugging the pillow and feigning asleep.
He heard the door being opened and footfalls to the bed, the mattress dipped when it bore further weight of someone sitting on. "Iker," David's voice called out to assess the other boy's consciousness. The Spaniard lay still and tried to steady his breath. After a moment, he felt the English boy shift and an arm lay across his torso. "You must be tired. I'm sorry if that was too much for you," the words had been muttered in his ear before David snuggled up against his nape with a soft kiss on his skin.
Iker shivered and had to suppress his reaction. It's harder to hide his smile with David's arm around him, his lips on his nape and his hot breaths on him like this. Well, he's happy, isn't he? As well as David. As far as he knew, there's no trouble in paradise.
Be damned Victoria.
***
Lionel Messi was happy.
Gerard was slouching besides him in the couch, scratching behind Bazooka's ears who's coiling in his lap absentmindedly. The dog wasn't asleep but wasn't energetic either, though a couple of weeks ago he looked worse. Lionel asked what happened to him and Gerard explained that he missed his mate. The tiny Argentinean asked further until the Catalan admitted that it's because he didn't bring him to visit Cesc's puppy: Arsenal, as much as before.
Bazooka's ears perked up at the mention of 'Arsenal' and 'Cesc', his eyes which drooped most of the time he lay there now opened wide like two dark crystal balls. Lionel noticed that. "And why is that?" He quirked his brow up questioningly. Gerard sighed.
"Because I've spent most of my free time with you."
And Lionel felt like a culprit because of that, because Gerard chose to be with him, the puppy wasn't as lively as before. He wondered whether Cesc's puppy's condition was the same. "Yeah," Gerard answered when he asked.
"You should visit Cesc more often then," Lionel pointed out. Gerard's shoulder stiffened and he interpreted it that he didn’t like the advice very much. "I can go with you if you want."
Gerard's shoulder stiffened even harder. "Nah." He scooped the ickle Chihuahua up and put him on the floor. Bazooka growled a bit in dissatisfaction but the Catalan ignored him. "We can't spoil them too much, can we? At first I thought I'd try separating them because I wanted to know the outcome, whether they would forget one another eventually. It appears they won't and though they keeps getting better, not look like dead rugs as at first, I still insist on keeping them apart at this level."
"What?" Lionel didn't understand a thing. "Why?"
"I don't want them to depend too much on one another. It's not healthy, fool even, that one's keys to happiness is in someone else’s pocket. He should be happy enough by himself. He can be happy being with his best friend, but not all the fucking time. I'm trying to teach him that."
"Will he ever understand?" Lionel looked incredulous. "I mean, he's just a puppy, Gery. He just wants to have fun with his mate."
"I'm not talking only about dogs," Gerard’s eyes kept on the Chihuahua who sauntered away in irritation and now was coiling on a new spot under the coffee table. "Human should understand this simple fact first, shouldn't give one's heart in other's hand so that they could make you happy or sad at will."
This was getting more and more confusing and Lionel didn't understand it at all. "What the hell are you talking about?" And he's a bit annoyed by the Spaniard’s perception of happiness. He knew Gerard wasn't talking about him, but still..., "You mean if it was you, you wouldn't let anyone, even me, have your heart?"
Gerard startled, he raked his brain to come up with a suitable answer, but found none. He sighed. "I'm not talking about you."
"Then who were you talking about?" Lionel was frustrated. It's not once that Gerard had done this, but many times already, when he didn't feel like answering a question, he'd dismiss it that 'it's not this we're talking about’, 'it's not me we're talking about'.
Until Lionel thought that he had some secrets that didn't want anyone - Lionel in particular - to know.
The Argentinean bit his lip. "Gerard," he called, and the Catalan turned around uncertainly. Hesitation flashed in his dark eyes and Lionel didn't want to fucking realize what that was all about.
He lunged at the Spaniard, covering up traces of everything with his lips on the other's.
Gerard's stunned, Lionel could tell with closed eyes from the other's body that stiffened up immediately. But the tiny boy kept his eyes shut, his lips on the Catalan’s and his mind determined. It should have shocked Gerard more or less because they'd never kissed, this was their first, Lionel had never thought he would be the one who initiated it, and he doubted Gerard had, too. The Argentinean held his breath.
And when he thought Gerard would never gonna kiss him back, he did.
The Spaniard’s lips were soft when they crushed back against his. Lionel moaned in his throat, hands slid up to clutch the taller boy's shirt. It had happened only for half a minute then Gerard was the one who broke away. Lionel huffed and the Catalan panted, too, but he composed fast.
"Shall we go out to buy groceries your mum told you to buy? It's getting late," Gerard asked, his voice calm and he didn't even look wavered, like nothing out of usual had happened at all.
Lionel swallowed hard. "Sure."
"I'll get a bag," the Catalan announced, stood up and disappeared to the kitchen.
Biting his lip, Lionel looked at the doorframe Gerard had disappeared to apprehensively. No matter what the other boy was thinking, Lionel was happy because he'd just kissed him and had him by his side at this moment. For him, for now, that was enough.
One shouldn't give one's heart in other's hand so that they could make you happy or sad at will. It's not healthy, fool even, that one's keys to happiness is in someone else’s pocket.
Well, Gery, Lionel grimaced, I guess that means I'm a fool for you.
To be continued in Chapter 12.
And feedbacks are always welcome!
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