The $64,000 Conundrum: Chapter 14
Title: The $64,000 Conundrum: Chapter 14
Authors: fernedakki
Pairing: Daniel Agger / Fernando Torres, Steven Gerrard / Xabi Alonso, David Beckham / Iker Casillas, Gerard Piqué / Cesc Fabregas (Robin Van Persie / Cesc Fabregas, Gerard Piqué / Lionel Messi for now)
Rating: NC-17 (This part)
Genre: AU / Romance
Word Count: 6,169 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, 11, 12, 13
The $64,000 Conundrum
Chapter 14
Time flew by...not that fast, but before he knew, there were only four days left before his parents would return from their trip and Fernando would go back to his house, to his normal life.
To say he's glad was a bit a lie. Well, he's glad that his parents would be back, eventually, and he could go back to live a normal routine in his own home, sleep in his own bed, it's what he'd always wanted from the first day he stepped into Aggers' house. What he hadn't expected, though, was the feeling of loss that's churning in his gut and clenching his heart right now.
Agger’s band didn't have practice session today and Fernando was glad he had at least one day of peace that he could do whatever he wanted. It's not that he didn't want to be with Agger, but if being with Agger meant he's forced to do what he didn't want to do, he'd better not spending too much time with him.
So after class, the Spaniard hop to play football with his chums and dilly-dallied at a cafe in the neighborhood so that he could have a peaceful place to finish the Mayan civilization book. It's just a random cafe where he thought was a perfect place to hide from the world, particularly Agger, for a while. He didn't think the Dane would be able to find him here, not like at his house.
When he went back to Aggers' house, it's in time for dinner.
"Where've you been?" Agger asked the instance he spotted Fernando at the dining table once he trailed down the stairs.
"Around." He shrugged and paid too much attention to the fillet he's cutting with his knife.
Agger didn't say anything further at the table but Fernando could actually feel the umbrage radiating off the Dane's body even when he’s sitting across the table, of what he had no clue. He paid no attention to it nonetheless and only hoped in vain that after having finished dinner, that dissatisfaction would eventually dissipate.
In vain, apparently, since once Fernando got up to their room after having finished dishwashing, he found the Dane lying on the couch with a book in his hand. A book! Fernando didn't even know Agger was literate.
"What are you doing with my book?" The Spaniard narrowed his eyes, in Agger's hand was unmistakably his Mayan civilization copy.
"Trying to figure out what about these Mayan people that have captivated you so much," he answered without averting his eyes to the Spaniard and turned the page leisurely.
"I've never allowed you to touch my stuff." Fernando gritted his teeth and stalked to the couch, intended to snatch the book from Agger. The Dane held it away from the Spaniard's reach.
"I have the right to touch everything in my room," he said and Fernando was taken aback. "Including you."
"What?" Fernando found his heart beating fast. Agger sighed and put the book down but didn't look the Spaniard in the eyes.
"How was your day?"
The blonde was bewildered for a moment. "Cool. Why?"
Agger got up off the couch and Fernando found that he's rooted to the spot. He almost asphyxiated because of having been holding his breath for too long when the Dane walked up to him, his fingers brushed the Spaniard's bang off his forehead lightly and the blonde had to resist the urge to turn to his hand and nuzzle against it. "There were only four days left," the Dane mumbled.
Fernando's heart beat faster. He didn't know Agger had paid attention to him that much and he clearly didn't understand the meaning of that sentence, there were only four days left and so what? What does Agger want?
Agger dropped his hand and Fernando's heart sank. "You did well yesterday," he said and turned away. "That song is actually quite difficult but you played it correctly for the most part."
So everything came down to this, then. Fernando thought as anger flared in his chest. The only thing that you concern about me is how I serve your purpose, it'd never been more than that. You're good to me because you want something in return and never actually care about me, aren't you?
Fernando suddenly felt puny, he didn't know why he's disappointed, or maybe he knew but just didn't want to accept the truth. A couple of days ago, he thought he'd give it a try, whatever Agger wanted from him, he'd try his best to make him appreciate. He's thinking that right now, just a bit down realizing that he'd never actually been anything to Agger more than a substitute for Raul Meireles.
"I'm flattered," he mumbled in a low voice and was about to turn away when Agger caught his arm.
"Let's play some songs together," he said.
The blonde quirked up his brow. "What song again? I've been playing songs with you every day already." There's an edge in his voice.
"Not rock songs. Your normal classical guitar songs. I haven’t heard them in a while."
Oh, so you realize, he thought bitterly but didn't voice it. A tiny chunk of his heart leapt in his chest that at least the Dane knew what he preferred, though he didn't feel like touching any guitar whatsoever right now, he'd had enough for almost consecutive three weeks. "Come on." But the Dane fetched the guitars for them both and settled down in the couch. Fernando trailed to the spot a bit unwillingly. Agger was strumming his old dear guitar good-naturedly so the blonde caught his.
"I've nothing to play," he said. He'd never practiced any song other than what he'd showed Agger, he didn't have time.
"Why not?" Agger's playing a song leisurely, if he didn't mistake, it's Usher's ‘Nice and Slow’. "Tell me your favourite songs and I'll play."
Fernando paused to think. "Broken Strings?"
"Why? Its meaning doesn't suit my mood right now." He still strummed Nice and Slow.
"So why the fuck did you bother asking me? Just play whatever you like!" The Spaniard snarled but he’s still good-humored. Putting despotic trait aside, this was Agger's character that Fernando liked: charmingly headstrong which was so dangerously attractive.
Kept playing the song, Agger paid no attention to the blonde. Fernando sat there listening to whatever the Dane offered, it's nice, simply spending time with Agger without worries that he'd displease the Dane at any minute. He liked Agger like this, when he played a song, he'd solely focus on it and nothing else, like he's drowned in the flow of his own marvelous music. When it's a rock song, his demeanor would be wild and outrageous like the rhythm, but with songs like these, his mien would be gentle: nice and slow indeed.
"You know what? If staring at someone could eat them, I'd have only bones left," the Dane said after having finished the song. The Spaniard's cheeks heated up immediately. "Found what you like?" He looked at Fernando, mischief sparkled in his dark eyes.
And he liked this, too. Fernando thought in shame though he couldn't even stop his cheeks from flushing in embarrassment, he liked the way Agger's always overconfident and so self-centered, like the world always revolved around him. He's freakingly good-looking, Fernando had to admit, it's not strange for someone that good-looking to be very confident of their own appearances, plus the sharp-tongue trait he got, this attitude of his was almost an obnoxious attribute.
But Fernando loved it still.
"Great performance," was all the Spaniard could mutter. He clapped hands for more effect. Agger smirked.
"By a great player, too." He put the guitar aside. "You know what? Since you said Broken Strings was your favourite song, why don't we practice them together in the four days we have left?"
The blonde raised his brow. "Don't we have to practice with the band?"
"No, we'll just leave that for now." He looked at Fernando and lifted his hand to stroke the blonde's freckly cheek. The Spaniard stiffened, their eyes locked. "I'll teach you how to be a pro guitarist in four days." Agger smiled and ran his thumb over Fernando's lower lip.
The blonde caught that thumb between his teeth and sucked it.
Fernando didn't even know what he's doing and only realized after, it's completely on a whim but his eyes had never wavered from the Dane's. Agger's eyes widened slightly, he's surprised by the Spaniard's unforeseen reaction, clearly he'd never thought Fernando would have the gut to do something like that. The blonde's breath hitched just almost imperceptibly, like he's afraid the other boy would sense his sudden nervousness. He scooted backwards and the Dane's hand dropped from his lips because of the distance, but of course, Agger would never back off.
He grabbed Fernando's forearm and pulled him in to crush their lips together.
Everything happened so fast. Fernando's eyes widened, he thought about shoving Agger away but instead his hands clung to the Dane's arms and didn't let go. So after a couple of seconds, he indulged and closed his eyes. Agger's hands were on both sides of Fernando's head so he could control him and his lips felt like fire when they contacted his. The Spaniard gasped because he felt the need for some air and Agger took that opportunity to thrust his burning tongue in. Fernando almost choked, not only because of the lack of oxygen, but also the heat Agger brought with him. He didn't know what made him dizzy more: the level of carbon dioxide in his blood, or the steaming passion the Dane was coercing into him via their connected lips.
So Fernando kissed back with abandon, he moaned into Agger's mouth and put both hands on the sides of the Dane's head as well. He sucked his tongue, gulped in the air off Agger, and Agger moaned aloud into their mouths. Until eventually the Dane, whose air was stolen, seemed in need of oxygen, too, so he pulled away. His hands were still on Fernando's face and he panted against the Spaniard's lips. "Shit, Fernando," he hissed.
The blonde was hyperventilating. He locked eyes with Agger's and what he saw there, pure lust, sent shockwave straight to his groin. His mind snapped, leaving him frozen.
What the fuck am I doing?
The Dane didn't leave Fernando to breathe long, after a couple of seconds, he plunged in to kiss him again. Fernando gasped, but this time he summoned all his strength to push him away. The force of it almost sent the Dane tumble off the couch but he caught the backrest in time. He seemed stunned, too.
"What the fuck now?" The Dane snarled after he'd taken in the reverse dynamic. His breaths were still coming in and out in quick successions but his eyes were full of confusion, there's no spite in them the way Fernando was afraid of.
"I...," the blonde tried to even out his own shallow breaths. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he whispered, and he didn't mean he's sorry that he'd just shoved him away, he knew Agger knew that.
The Dane was silent for a moment, then... "What?" There's anger in his voice now.
"Look, Agger, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean it to happen like this-"
"How did you mean it to happen then?" The Dane blurted out, and amid the flaring anger, Fernando almost flinched as he detected hurt in that voice. "Torres, you sucked my tongue!"
Fernando flinched this time, embarrassment made him flush red.
"I-I don't know, it just-" happened, he didn't know why and really didn't want to know right now. "I'll get downstairs." He suddenly got up off the couch.
"Don't you dare leave!" The Dane snarled suddenly. Fernando was paralyzed in his tracks. The next thing Agger said stabbed him like he'd feared. "Why the fuck do you have to fight it?!"
Fernando felt dizzy again. "Why do I have to fight what?" He asked feebly.
"You know what the fuck I'm talking about!" He snapped. "I told you I can prove it."
The blonde was boggled for a moment, then something slowly dawned on him and made his stomach heavy like a box made of rock full of churning ice and fire.
"We'll see."
"What?!" He spat, fury that flared bright from nowhere almost blinded him and his chest burnt. "Is that what this is all about?! Because you want to prove your stupid theory?!" Fernando felt like the floor was pulled out under his feet sending him tumble even while he’s standing.
Agger stared at him, then the corner of his mouth quirked up and the blonde felt like punching that freckly handsome face until he could smirk no more. The feeling of nausea made him want to vomit every wonderful moment he thought they had had together until his gut was empty, and then puked his stomach out as well, then his intestines, his lung which was burnt into ashes because of the fire of fury in his chest, as well as his heart which was crushed into pieces because Agger's words were so malicious they broke it.
Fernando was stunned by his own thought.
"Aren't I correct?" The Dane asked, stood up and walked over, smirk still played on his lips and now there's a strong determination in his eyes. Chills ran down Fernando's spine as Agger stopped only inches in front of him, and he’s frozen yet again as the Dane lifted his hand to gently touch his lower lip like he'd done - what? - just less than five minutes ago. Something flickered in the Dane's eyes - something akin to affection? - or maybe it's just a state of mind because unconsciously Fernando just wanted it to be that way so much. It appeared only for the blink of an eye then it's gone, just like an apparition, he wasn't even sure it's not the pure product of his imagination, whether it's real. "Are you still denying it now?" There's clear triumph in Agger’s voice.
The Spaniard’s hands formed into fists, he's shivering with anger but the Dane didn't notice, or maybe he did but mistook it as a product of scare. Though with the Spaniard’s eyes ablaze, Agger caught Fernando's chin between his index and thumb and lifted it so their faces were on the same level, he slowly leaned in, his lips aiming at the blonde's. And from those tender gestures and almost soft look in his eyes, Fernando almost indulged himself again by closing his lids and savoring the taste of Agger.
But he didn't.
Fernando punched him.
***
He used to wonder what it would be like to be in love with his best friend.
Iker woke up and felt the world moving in circle. Well, normally the world was moving in circle but he'd never felt it literally moving under his feet before. Today, he felt.
It took him almost a full minute to take in the situation and his own condition, it came out as no surprise, though. After that, the first thing that popped up in his mind was this notion,
He used to wonder what it would be like to be in love with his best friend.
The Spaniard got up and the room was spinning real hard so he had to flop back down again to stabilize his balance. The duvet was soft and Iker closed his lids as he snuggled up and inhaled the smell of detergent mixed with sweat and sex: David's odor. Something churned in his stomach when he thought about what happened in this bed less than ten hours ago...
Shit. What time is it now?!
The thought made Iker spring up in bed one more time, eyes wide, and his head was so hurt from the move that it felt like someone hammered his skull from the inside. He squeezed his eyes tight and lifted his hand to massage his temple. For a moment he didn't know what day it was, so he thought back to yesterday again.
And yesterday was Wednesday.
Slowly opening his eyes, Iker squinted around to find an alarm clock he knew was on the bedside table, its short hand was between number 9 and 10. It's very late now.
He tried getting up and felt less whirling this time. Looking for pieces of clothes scattered around the bed like someone had ransacked them, he found his shirt at the other end of the room. Having dressed up, the Spaniard’s about to get down to look for David but he halted because apparently this scene looked quite like the one after the night they slept together for the first time.
During his pondering, the door opened and the English boy walked in. "Oh, you're up," David greeted, smiling his gorgeous smile. "My mom left us some sausages and bacons. You can take a shower first if you want." He's still in his pajamas, too.
"David, we're late," Iker stated simply.
The British paused. "Iker, it's almost ten now." He snickered softly. "Just ditched it, I didn't think you're in a condition that could go to school."
The Spaniard flinched. "Does my mom know I'm here?"
"She knew that you stayed over here last night."
Iker nodded tiredly. "Can I borrow your towel, then?"
David's smile widened. "My pleasure." Snatching his towel which had been hanging on a cloth rack, he stepped out in the hallway and led the way to the bathroom. The Spaniard followed in silence until they both stepped into the bathroom.
"Ok-" he's about to say thank you when the British locked the door behind them. Something churned in his gut again and his heart beat real fast. "What are you doing?"
David turned around and took off his shirt through his head unceremoniously. "Care if I join?" He grinned mischievously. Hot blood rushed to Iker's face immediately.
"David! How about others?!" He hissed, even in the locked bathroom and he's quite sure no one was upstairs.
"There's no one here. Iker, do I need to tell you again that it's almost ten?" The English quirked his brow up naughtily like a confident womanizer that he was. And to prove his point, he took his shorts and boxers off in one swift movement, let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them.
It's not that Iker had never seen the other boy naked - saying such things would be super-hypocritical - but David's nudity made him blush harder nonetheless. The other boy stopped as the Spaniard turned away from the sight, he would have thought that Iker would be accustomed to this by now. "Don't you like what you see?" He teased, the smile widened and Iker felt like hitting him with the towel.
"Oh, fuck off, David!" Grumbling in mortification, he turned around and took off his clothes. When he's completely naked, inhaled deeply and was about to turn around to face the dream-like reality, a warm body pressed against his back.
Iker's breath hitched.
Hot breaths on his nape made him shiver, then wet lips connected to his skin and the soft kisses were so tender as the English's arms wrapped around his bare torso. David ran his lips up to the Spaniard's ear, his ticklish spot. He winced and struggled to get free but David's arms were stronger and didn't let him. He gasped as David's hand slid down to his crotch, his head leaned against the wall for support as the British's deft hand stroked his shaft slowly so.
"D-Dave." He tried to even out his breaths. "I thought we're...-fuck!- going to...-ah!- t-take a s-shower-"
"Easy." Snickering against the Spaniard's nape, David's hand squeezed the other boy's cock teasingly sending him jolt. "We are."
He didn't let Iker go until the Spaniard climaxed.
And when they got into the shower, the British's hands were still all over Iker's body, washing him thoroughly until finally they pinned him against the wall. Water poured out of the shower, steaming, and the sound of water hitting the floor and their skin drowned out their gasps and moans as David entered him.
After the great shower-in-the-morning sex, they dressed up and went down for breakfast. And after those routines: shower, sex and breakfast, his hangover had got much better.
"Why had you been drinking last night?"
They were still sitting at the dining table and David chose that moment - after Iker had been well-fed, cleaned and basked in an afterglow - to ask the question he had in mind all morning. The Spaniard didn't flinch but he didn't look the English boy in the eyes either. He'd almost forgotten about that, those pains seemed so far away now when David's actually here in front of him.
"It's nothing," Iker lied, still didn't look the other boy in the eyes. "I just felt like drinking, then I got too drunk." He shrugged to emphasize that the event held no significance.
"Are you sure?" David's brows furrowed. "It's just out of character for you."
"It's nothing."
"Hey," Iker looked up and found that David had stood up and reached across the table, the tip of his fingers gently caressed the Spaniard's furrowed forehead and brows which he hadn't known he'd made, then down the bridge of his nose to the corner of his mouth and pinched that cheek teasingly, pulled it to make Iker look smile-like. "If you don't wanna talk about it now, I'm not gonna badger. But do know that I'm here and ready to listen to you anytime." He smiled a soft smile that made Iker feel warm inside. "And stop making that face."
"What face?"
The British shrugged while sitting down. "Like I pull out before you reach your orgasm," he said nonchalantly.
"David!" Iker gasped, scandalized. David laughed.
"You laugh now." He chuckled softly. "Feel better?"
"Yeah," he lied again.
"Would you like to go outside? Or stay in bed and have another go?" He quirked his brow, his tone was so unconcerned like it's the most normal question in the world. Iker's face heated up, he felt mortified for the British who didn't even seem to have a tad of shame. He chucked a napkin over the other side of the table, it hit David's face dead on, even his reflex wasn't fast enough.
"Pervert!"
***
"Where are we going?" Xabi asked. It's still early and Steven said since they had time, he would take him somewhere first.
"Surprise." The Scouser smirked. They were on a bus going inbound. The sky was bright and the weather was warm, Xabi was used to this kind of climate in Spain but Steven was so excited about it, he didn't get it often enough.
The Basque didn't ask further and sat in silence, he looked out the window to the bustling streets where crowd from almost all over the city came out to bask in the sunlight. The town looked alive today, not nouveau, Liverpool was still its same old city with rich history as the second wealthiest harbour city of England or 'the New York of Europe', but it looked like the city had been resurrected after its long and sound slumber under the curtain of heavy and dim showers and overcast and leaden sky for the most part of its life. Xabi smiled at the liveliness in general as the bus passed by tall brick buildings which looked brighter than the last time he'd been out with Steven, at flowers that looked more colorful and trees that looked greener along the cobbled streets. It made him want to jump out of the bus and join the public emotion right now.
It didn't take long until the bus arrived at a street and Steven nudged him to get up. Xabi followed the Scouser to the door, the street was less bustling and wasn't a commercial zone at all. Along the road were orange-bricked townhouses, only some of them had front-door signs indicated as pubs, restaurants, pizza places, bakeries, grocery stores, or laundries. Xabi quirked his brow but followed Steven down as the bus stopped silently. The Scouser had glanced to check that the other boy had got down safely, naughty smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he turned and walked. The Basque quickened his paces a bit so he could catch up with him.
"Where are we?" Xabi asked.
"Couldn't you guess?" Steven winked.
"Your house?" He tried.
"Genius boy." The Scouser turned right to another street, then after a few yards turned again to a townhouse. He walked along the path with Xabi following not far behind and the Spaniard waited as he fumbled with the key.
The door was opened and he turned to Xabi. "Well, welcome to my humble shack, your grace." He stepped aside. "After you."
The Basque quirked up his brow and Steven grinned back. He got in and the British followed. "Mommm?" Steven bellowed as he closed the door behind. The next second, a woman's voice shouted back.
"Stevie?!"
The sound came from the other corner of the house and Steven tracked it immediately. Putting his hands in his pockets, Xabi trailed after his friend slowly like he wasn't sure what to do. He looked around and found that the townhouse wasn't as humble as Steven claimed, there were a spacious drawing room on his left and a dining room next to it, on his right were rows of cabinets which Xabi reckoned to store shoes, coats, umbrellas, and other miscellaneous stuff, and then the stairs.
"What are you doing here?! You can't come and go from the camp as you wish! There's a reason I sent you there, you know?" was what Xabi heard from the direction Steven had disappeared to and it made him flinch a bit. He didn't know what to expect from Mrs. Gerrard, Steven had never talked about her before.
"Why? So that you can have some peace while I'm away? Fourteen years too late, mom. And I also come here for a reason, I want you to meet my friend. Xabi."
His cue had come. Xabi inhaled deeply, straight back and chin up. A feeling that he needed to make a first good impression on Mrs. Gerrard came out of nowhere and he walked with a suppressed anxiety into a room which was definitely a homey kitchen.
"Mom, this is Xabi. He's from Spain." The first thing Xabi saw after turning the corner was the big boy Steven hugging his mom - who's standing in front of a stove - from behind. The Scouser grinned widely at him in encouragement. Xabi glanced at him before turning to Mrs. Gerrard. The woman was as tall as her son with long brown hair, she doesn’t look beyond her 40th birthday and is still very beautiful. He could see immediately that Steven got his eyes from her, the eyes that looked at him in surprise for a split second before suddenly turning tender.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Gerrard," the Basque greeted politely. His hands were in his pockets like an awkward teenager that he was who didn't know what to properly do with them.
"Hello, dear. Stevie didn't tell me he would bring home guests otherwise I'd have dressed up more properly." She looked down at her worn-out apron which might have been white once but now off-color that was over her long-sleeved blue shirt and smudgy khaki gardening pants, all of them Xabi didn't bother to notice at first because she looked simply gorgeous anyway. Mrs. Gerrard murmured in a low voice, "damn, Stevie."
The Scouser laughed and Xabi couldn't keep himself from smiling.
Mrs. Gerrard excused herself to get changed. In the meantime, Steven dragged Xabi around the house showing him this room and that. The house was large like he thought and the British's room was as messy as a normal boy's bedroom would. But the part of the house that fascinated him the most was the garden. The first instance that Steven opened the back door and Xabi stepped out, he's rooted to the spot.
The dirt part under his feet was narrow and it led to both right and left directions, disappearing behind green shrubs with pink, blue, yellow, and every other possible-shades-of-colored flower in between. Big trees stood beyond the shrubs creating patterns of lights and shadows on the green-grassed ground by filtering the afternoon sunlight like some perforated designs. Xabi could tell that the garden was large and very beautiful indeed. He didn't wait for the Scouser to lead the way when he walked along the path in the right direction. Butterflies hovered over clumps of long-stemmed Alliums and bees buzzed from a Lavender spike to another. The sun was so strong until he could smell Chlorophyll burnt from the grass and feel the heat of the earth under the sole of his shoes.
Xabi stopped under a maple tree where there was a bench and sat down. Steven flopped down beside him with both arms on the backrest and looked at the Spaniard from the corner of his eyes. "Do you like it?" He asked.
"Yeah, this is very beautiful." Xabi looked around with bewildered brown eyes. "Your mom tends to them?"
"Yeah, she loves gardening. More than looking after me anyway." He chuckled, and then they both fell silent, like the quietness was required to appreciate the beauty of the surroundings. The Basque was aware of Steven's arm behind his shoulder. He could hear Chaffinches chirping in a low voice from the foliage above their heads, otherwise everything was quiet.
"So, is this what they called an English garden?" A few more minutes and Xabi blurted out. Though he agreed that silence enhanced the magical ambience and made it even more surreal, he found he's nervous.
"Umm, yes, I guess. What does a Spanish garden look like by the way?"
"Less messy?"
The Scouser laughed. "That must be the charm." Then he shifted to lay his head on the Spaniard's lap. Xabi stiffened.
"Is this wise?" He asked uncertainly though his fingers had already run through Steven's messy short brown hair. "What will your mom say if she finds us like this?"
"If she comes, I'll hear," he replied.
So they stayed like that for Xabi didn't even know how long. The fragrances of Oriental Lily nearby and sometimes Garden Phlox occasionally were wafted through the wind. Though sitting in the shades, the stuffiness of dog day started to take a toll on him and his lids drooped, his legs were long dead when Steven who he thought had been asleep eons ago shifted.
"We shall get back," the Scouser announced, his hair was even messier when he got up. He combed to make them into a design or another.
"To the camp?"
"No, not yet, to the house." He got up and held out his hand for Xabi to use as a leverage.
They walked in and found the kitchen pervaded with the salivating smells of mash potatoes and steaks. "Whoa." Steven caught the counter and leaned over to look into a pot of limestone soup.
"You hungry yet?" Mrs. Gerrard asked as she stepped back into the kitchen in clean clothes, wiping hands on a napkin.
"Umm, yeah. But at first I was thinking about taking Xabi out to a nice restaurant around here...," he trailed off, glancing at the Spaniard uncertainly. Xabi was about to reply but Mrs. Gerrard cut him off.
"Then you realized no restaurant can cook quite like me," she said and walked up to the pot to stir the soup. "I was about to call out for you because the steaks are ready. Did you just follow the smells back inside?"
Steven grinned. "I suppose."
So they had dinner at Steven's house, which was really good. Xabi didn't have an opportunity to meet Mr. Gerrard who Mrs. Gerrard said would be back around nine. The sun's still up when they took a bus back to the camp and as they sat, Xabi next to a window and Steven next to the aisle, the Basque entwined his fingers with Steven's.
The Scouser didn't look at their hands but at Xabi's eyes and Xabi realized he's going to miss this: the looks in Steven's eyes, the scent of him, the heat of his breaths, the warmth of his skin...
Damn, how bad he wanted this summer to last forever. "Thank you," he said in a low voice.
"My pleasure." Steven smiled and squeezed his hand. As the setting sunlight shone through the bus window spreading warmth over their bodies and they lapsed into silence, Xabi dropped his head on the Scouser's shoulder and closed his eyes.
In the end, they'd never said the three words to one another.
Xabi had never known the other boy’s feelings, he didn’t even know his. He’d never thought of asking what all of these meant, though, and their story was over unresolved. On the last day of their summer camp, they hugged, and Xabi could see tears in Steven's eyes but he didn't mention it.
"I'll e-mail you, yeah?" The Scouser asked, patting Xabi's back but it seemed like he's the one who needed that encouragement at the moment.
"Sure." There's a lump in Xabi's throat. His hands were around Steven's waist and he never wanted to let him go.
"Please tell me when you arrive home safely." He touched Xabi's cheek with callous hands.
Xabi swallowed hard. "Okay."
They didn't even kiss goodbye. He felt so alone and empty as he boarded the plane back to Spain. He looked out the window to the concourse, the sun was burning outside but Xabi felt so cold. After a while, the captain announced their take-off and as the plane flew over the harbour city, across England and the English Channel to Continental Europe where his home was, Xabi felt like he had left a chunk of his heart in Liverpool.
***
"I heard that you're going to Amsterdam."
It's the first thing Gerard said to him when they met at Cesc's house one day. Arsenal and Bazooka jumped each other as soon as they saw one another like they'd been apart for years not days. Cesc felt sorry for them though he might feel sorrier for himself.
"Umm, yes." Cesc headed for the kitchen, intended to avoid this conversation but the other boy didn't let him slip away easily.
"With that Dutch?" He almost sneered by simply saying Robin's nationality. Cesc's heart raced for it and he had to scold himself to stay calm. Gerard's words didn't mean anything, Cesc, stop being a fool and face the reality.
He took in a deep breath. "Of course."
Gerard was silent for a second. "When will you leave?" He didn't look at Cesc when he asked and Cesc felt weird by the words, it's like Gerard asked when he would leave him rather than when he would leave for vacation, and he felt his stomach drop.
"On the 21st," he said. "You?"
"I'll go after Christmas." Gerard caught a rubber ball up off the floor and squeezed it. "When will you come back?"
He's frustrated now. "Why would you care?"
Gerard chucked the ball at the near wall, it rebounded back to him. "I care." There's an edge in his voice and Cesc's heart had gone crazy again. But he could feel like floating for only a second before the bubble popped. "I don't like him."
Cesc seethed. "Well, I don't think your opinion is required here," he snapped, and just felt the need to add, "He’s my boyfriend so it has nothing to do with you."
Gerard flinched by the word 'boyfriend' and his face twisted uglily. "I have no rights now, haven't I?"
Cesc wanted to shout that Gerard had never had rights in the first place whatsoever. "Yes, you don't! You're going with Lionel anyway so shut the fuck up!"
Gerard looked up at him, pure curiosity in his eyes. "Are you going to Amsterdam to spite me?"
Cesc's heart beat faster. "No! I'm going because Robin's home is there and he's my boyfriend!" He felt the need to say that word again, this time just to make sure he didn't forget the fact himself. No one knew better than him that he would go as far as the end of the world to spite Gerard but no one could know that, especially Gerard himself.
Gerard's eyes wavered but he wasn't completely bought. Cesc broke their eye contact because he's afraid that they would betray the truth. After a while, Gerard said, "guess I'll see you after the hols then."
"Merry Christmas." Cesc bit his lips and felt tears prickling in his eyes.
"Merry Christmas, Cesc," Gerard said before turning away and walking out of the room.
To be continued in Chapter 15.
.
Authors: fernedakki
Pairing: Daniel Agger / Fernando Torres, Steven Gerrard / Xabi Alonso, David Beckham / Iker Casillas, Gerard Piqué / Cesc Fabregas (Robin Van Persie / Cesc Fabregas, Gerard Piqué / Lionel Messi for now)
Rating: NC-17 (This part)
Genre: AU / Romance
Word Count: 6,169 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, 11, 12, 13
The $64,000 Conundrum
Chapter 14
Time flew by...not that fast, but before he knew, there were only four days left before his parents would return from their trip and Fernando would go back to his house, to his normal life.
To say he's glad was a bit a lie. Well, he's glad that his parents would be back, eventually, and he could go back to live a normal routine in his own home, sleep in his own bed, it's what he'd always wanted from the first day he stepped into Aggers' house. What he hadn't expected, though, was the feeling of loss that's churning in his gut and clenching his heart right now.
Agger’s band didn't have practice session today and Fernando was glad he had at least one day of peace that he could do whatever he wanted. It's not that he didn't want to be with Agger, but if being with Agger meant he's forced to do what he didn't want to do, he'd better not spending too much time with him.
So after class, the Spaniard hop to play football with his chums and dilly-dallied at a cafe in the neighborhood so that he could have a peaceful place to finish the Mayan civilization book. It's just a random cafe where he thought was a perfect place to hide from the world, particularly Agger, for a while. He didn't think the Dane would be able to find him here, not like at his house.
When he went back to Aggers' house, it's in time for dinner.
"Where've you been?" Agger asked the instance he spotted Fernando at the dining table once he trailed down the stairs.
"Around." He shrugged and paid too much attention to the fillet he's cutting with his knife.
Agger didn't say anything further at the table but Fernando could actually feel the umbrage radiating off the Dane's body even when he’s sitting across the table, of what he had no clue. He paid no attention to it nonetheless and only hoped in vain that after having finished dinner, that dissatisfaction would eventually dissipate.
In vain, apparently, since once Fernando got up to their room after having finished dishwashing, he found the Dane lying on the couch with a book in his hand. A book! Fernando didn't even know Agger was literate.
"What are you doing with my book?" The Spaniard narrowed his eyes, in Agger's hand was unmistakably his Mayan civilization copy.
"Trying to figure out what about these Mayan people that have captivated you so much," he answered without averting his eyes to the Spaniard and turned the page leisurely.
"I've never allowed you to touch my stuff." Fernando gritted his teeth and stalked to the couch, intended to snatch the book from Agger. The Dane held it away from the Spaniard's reach.
"I have the right to touch everything in my room," he said and Fernando was taken aback. "Including you."
"What?" Fernando found his heart beating fast. Agger sighed and put the book down but didn't look the Spaniard in the eyes.
"How was your day?"
The blonde was bewildered for a moment. "Cool. Why?"
Agger got up off the couch and Fernando found that he's rooted to the spot. He almost asphyxiated because of having been holding his breath for too long when the Dane walked up to him, his fingers brushed the Spaniard's bang off his forehead lightly and the blonde had to resist the urge to turn to his hand and nuzzle against it. "There were only four days left," the Dane mumbled.
Fernando's heart beat faster. He didn't know Agger had paid attention to him that much and he clearly didn't understand the meaning of that sentence, there were only four days left and so what? What does Agger want?
Agger dropped his hand and Fernando's heart sank. "You did well yesterday," he said and turned away. "That song is actually quite difficult but you played it correctly for the most part."
So everything came down to this, then. Fernando thought as anger flared in his chest. The only thing that you concern about me is how I serve your purpose, it'd never been more than that. You're good to me because you want something in return and never actually care about me, aren't you?
Fernando suddenly felt puny, he didn't know why he's disappointed, or maybe he knew but just didn't want to accept the truth. A couple of days ago, he thought he'd give it a try, whatever Agger wanted from him, he'd try his best to make him appreciate. He's thinking that right now, just a bit down realizing that he'd never actually been anything to Agger more than a substitute for Raul Meireles.
"I'm flattered," he mumbled in a low voice and was about to turn away when Agger caught his arm.
"Let's play some songs together," he said.
The blonde quirked up his brow. "What song again? I've been playing songs with you every day already." There's an edge in his voice.
"Not rock songs. Your normal classical guitar songs. I haven’t heard them in a while."
Oh, so you realize, he thought bitterly but didn't voice it. A tiny chunk of his heart leapt in his chest that at least the Dane knew what he preferred, though he didn't feel like touching any guitar whatsoever right now, he'd had enough for almost consecutive three weeks. "Come on." But the Dane fetched the guitars for them both and settled down in the couch. Fernando trailed to the spot a bit unwillingly. Agger was strumming his old dear guitar good-naturedly so the blonde caught his.
"I've nothing to play," he said. He'd never practiced any song other than what he'd showed Agger, he didn't have time.
"Why not?" Agger's playing a song leisurely, if he didn't mistake, it's Usher's ‘Nice and Slow’. "Tell me your favourite songs and I'll play."
Fernando paused to think. "Broken Strings?"
"Why? Its meaning doesn't suit my mood right now." He still strummed Nice and Slow.
"So why the fuck did you bother asking me? Just play whatever you like!" The Spaniard snarled but he’s still good-humored. Putting despotic trait aside, this was Agger's character that Fernando liked: charmingly headstrong which was so dangerously attractive.
Kept playing the song, Agger paid no attention to the blonde. Fernando sat there listening to whatever the Dane offered, it's nice, simply spending time with Agger without worries that he'd displease the Dane at any minute. He liked Agger like this, when he played a song, he'd solely focus on it and nothing else, like he's drowned in the flow of his own marvelous music. When it's a rock song, his demeanor would be wild and outrageous like the rhythm, but with songs like these, his mien would be gentle: nice and slow indeed.
"You know what? If staring at someone could eat them, I'd have only bones left," the Dane said after having finished the song. The Spaniard's cheeks heated up immediately. "Found what you like?" He looked at Fernando, mischief sparkled in his dark eyes.
And he liked this, too. Fernando thought in shame though he couldn't even stop his cheeks from flushing in embarrassment, he liked the way Agger's always overconfident and so self-centered, like the world always revolved around him. He's freakingly good-looking, Fernando had to admit, it's not strange for someone that good-looking to be very confident of their own appearances, plus the sharp-tongue trait he got, this attitude of his was almost an obnoxious attribute.
But Fernando loved it still.
"Great performance," was all the Spaniard could mutter. He clapped hands for more effect. Agger smirked.
"By a great player, too." He put the guitar aside. "You know what? Since you said Broken Strings was your favourite song, why don't we practice them together in the four days we have left?"
The blonde raised his brow. "Don't we have to practice with the band?"
"No, we'll just leave that for now." He looked at Fernando and lifted his hand to stroke the blonde's freckly cheek. The Spaniard stiffened, their eyes locked. "I'll teach you how to be a pro guitarist in four days." Agger smiled and ran his thumb over Fernando's lower lip.
The blonde caught that thumb between his teeth and sucked it.
Fernando didn't even know what he's doing and only realized after, it's completely on a whim but his eyes had never wavered from the Dane's. Agger's eyes widened slightly, he's surprised by the Spaniard's unforeseen reaction, clearly he'd never thought Fernando would have the gut to do something like that. The blonde's breath hitched just almost imperceptibly, like he's afraid the other boy would sense his sudden nervousness. He scooted backwards and the Dane's hand dropped from his lips because of the distance, but of course, Agger would never back off.
He grabbed Fernando's forearm and pulled him in to crush their lips together.
Everything happened so fast. Fernando's eyes widened, he thought about shoving Agger away but instead his hands clung to the Dane's arms and didn't let go. So after a couple of seconds, he indulged and closed his eyes. Agger's hands were on both sides of Fernando's head so he could control him and his lips felt like fire when they contacted his. The Spaniard gasped because he felt the need for some air and Agger took that opportunity to thrust his burning tongue in. Fernando almost choked, not only because of the lack of oxygen, but also the heat Agger brought with him. He didn't know what made him dizzy more: the level of carbon dioxide in his blood, or the steaming passion the Dane was coercing into him via their connected lips.
So Fernando kissed back with abandon, he moaned into Agger's mouth and put both hands on the sides of the Dane's head as well. He sucked his tongue, gulped in the air off Agger, and Agger moaned aloud into their mouths. Until eventually the Dane, whose air was stolen, seemed in need of oxygen, too, so he pulled away. His hands were still on Fernando's face and he panted against the Spaniard's lips. "Shit, Fernando," he hissed.
The blonde was hyperventilating. He locked eyes with Agger's and what he saw there, pure lust, sent shockwave straight to his groin. His mind snapped, leaving him frozen.
What the fuck am I doing?
The Dane didn't leave Fernando to breathe long, after a couple of seconds, he plunged in to kiss him again. Fernando gasped, but this time he summoned all his strength to push him away. The force of it almost sent the Dane tumble off the couch but he caught the backrest in time. He seemed stunned, too.
"What the fuck now?" The Dane snarled after he'd taken in the reverse dynamic. His breaths were still coming in and out in quick successions but his eyes were full of confusion, there's no spite in them the way Fernando was afraid of.
"I...," the blonde tried to even out his own shallow breaths. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he whispered, and he didn't mean he's sorry that he'd just shoved him away, he knew Agger knew that.
The Dane was silent for a moment, then... "What?" There's anger in his voice now.
"Look, Agger, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean it to happen like this-"
"How did you mean it to happen then?" The Dane blurted out, and amid the flaring anger, Fernando almost flinched as he detected hurt in that voice. "Torres, you sucked my tongue!"
Fernando flinched this time, embarrassment made him flush red.
"I-I don't know, it just-" happened, he didn't know why and really didn't want to know right now. "I'll get downstairs." He suddenly got up off the couch.
"Don't you dare leave!" The Dane snarled suddenly. Fernando was paralyzed in his tracks. The next thing Agger said stabbed him like he'd feared. "Why the fuck do you have to fight it?!"
Fernando felt dizzy again. "Why do I have to fight what?" He asked feebly.
"You know what the fuck I'm talking about!" He snapped. "I told you I can prove it."
The blonde was boggled for a moment, then something slowly dawned on him and made his stomach heavy like a box made of rock full of churning ice and fire.
"We'll see."
"What?!" He spat, fury that flared bright from nowhere almost blinded him and his chest burnt. "Is that what this is all about?! Because you want to prove your stupid theory?!" Fernando felt like the floor was pulled out under his feet sending him tumble even while he’s standing.
Agger stared at him, then the corner of his mouth quirked up and the blonde felt like punching that freckly handsome face until he could smirk no more. The feeling of nausea made him want to vomit every wonderful moment he thought they had had together until his gut was empty, and then puked his stomach out as well, then his intestines, his lung which was burnt into ashes because of the fire of fury in his chest, as well as his heart which was crushed into pieces because Agger's words were so malicious they broke it.
Fernando was stunned by his own thought.
"Aren't I correct?" The Dane asked, stood up and walked over, smirk still played on his lips and now there's a strong determination in his eyes. Chills ran down Fernando's spine as Agger stopped only inches in front of him, and he’s frozen yet again as the Dane lifted his hand to gently touch his lower lip like he'd done - what? - just less than five minutes ago. Something flickered in the Dane's eyes - something akin to affection? - or maybe it's just a state of mind because unconsciously Fernando just wanted it to be that way so much. It appeared only for the blink of an eye then it's gone, just like an apparition, he wasn't even sure it's not the pure product of his imagination, whether it's real. "Are you still denying it now?" There's clear triumph in Agger’s voice.
The Spaniard’s hands formed into fists, he's shivering with anger but the Dane didn't notice, or maybe he did but mistook it as a product of scare. Though with the Spaniard’s eyes ablaze, Agger caught Fernando's chin between his index and thumb and lifted it so their faces were on the same level, he slowly leaned in, his lips aiming at the blonde's. And from those tender gestures and almost soft look in his eyes, Fernando almost indulged himself again by closing his lids and savoring the taste of Agger.
But he didn't.
Fernando punched him.
***
He used to wonder what it would be like to be in love with his best friend.
Iker woke up and felt the world moving in circle. Well, normally the world was moving in circle but he'd never felt it literally moving under his feet before. Today, he felt.
It took him almost a full minute to take in the situation and his own condition, it came out as no surprise, though. After that, the first thing that popped up in his mind was this notion,
He used to wonder what it would be like to be in love with his best friend.
The Spaniard got up and the room was spinning real hard so he had to flop back down again to stabilize his balance. The duvet was soft and Iker closed his lids as he snuggled up and inhaled the smell of detergent mixed with sweat and sex: David's odor. Something churned in his stomach when he thought about what happened in this bed less than ten hours ago...
Shit. What time is it now?!
The thought made Iker spring up in bed one more time, eyes wide, and his head was so hurt from the move that it felt like someone hammered his skull from the inside. He squeezed his eyes tight and lifted his hand to massage his temple. For a moment he didn't know what day it was, so he thought back to yesterday again.
And yesterday was Wednesday.
Slowly opening his eyes, Iker squinted around to find an alarm clock he knew was on the bedside table, its short hand was between number 9 and 10. It's very late now.
He tried getting up and felt less whirling this time. Looking for pieces of clothes scattered around the bed like someone had ransacked them, he found his shirt at the other end of the room. Having dressed up, the Spaniard’s about to get down to look for David but he halted because apparently this scene looked quite like the one after the night they slept together for the first time.
During his pondering, the door opened and the English boy walked in. "Oh, you're up," David greeted, smiling his gorgeous smile. "My mom left us some sausages and bacons. You can take a shower first if you want." He's still in his pajamas, too.
"David, we're late," Iker stated simply.
The British paused. "Iker, it's almost ten now." He snickered softly. "Just ditched it, I didn't think you're in a condition that could go to school."
The Spaniard flinched. "Does my mom know I'm here?"
"She knew that you stayed over here last night."
Iker nodded tiredly. "Can I borrow your towel, then?"
David's smile widened. "My pleasure." Snatching his towel which had been hanging on a cloth rack, he stepped out in the hallway and led the way to the bathroom. The Spaniard followed in silence until they both stepped into the bathroom.
"Ok-" he's about to say thank you when the British locked the door behind them. Something churned in his gut again and his heart beat real fast. "What are you doing?"
David turned around and took off his shirt through his head unceremoniously. "Care if I join?" He grinned mischievously. Hot blood rushed to Iker's face immediately.
"David! How about others?!" He hissed, even in the locked bathroom and he's quite sure no one was upstairs.
"There's no one here. Iker, do I need to tell you again that it's almost ten?" The English quirked his brow up naughtily like a confident womanizer that he was. And to prove his point, he took his shorts and boxers off in one swift movement, let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them.
It's not that Iker had never seen the other boy naked - saying such things would be super-hypocritical - but David's nudity made him blush harder nonetheless. The other boy stopped as the Spaniard turned away from the sight, he would have thought that Iker would be accustomed to this by now. "Don't you like what you see?" He teased, the smile widened and Iker felt like hitting him with the towel.
"Oh, fuck off, David!" Grumbling in mortification, he turned around and took off his clothes. When he's completely naked, inhaled deeply and was about to turn around to face the dream-like reality, a warm body pressed against his back.
Iker's breath hitched.
Hot breaths on his nape made him shiver, then wet lips connected to his skin and the soft kisses were so tender as the English's arms wrapped around his bare torso. David ran his lips up to the Spaniard's ear, his ticklish spot. He winced and struggled to get free but David's arms were stronger and didn't let him. He gasped as David's hand slid down to his crotch, his head leaned against the wall for support as the British's deft hand stroked his shaft slowly so.
"D-Dave." He tried to even out his breaths. "I thought we're...-fuck!- going to...-ah!- t-take a s-shower-"
"Easy." Snickering against the Spaniard's nape, David's hand squeezed the other boy's cock teasingly sending him jolt. "We are."
He didn't let Iker go until the Spaniard climaxed.
And when they got into the shower, the British's hands were still all over Iker's body, washing him thoroughly until finally they pinned him against the wall. Water poured out of the shower, steaming, and the sound of water hitting the floor and their skin drowned out their gasps and moans as David entered him.
After the great shower-in-the-morning sex, they dressed up and went down for breakfast. And after those routines: shower, sex and breakfast, his hangover had got much better.
"Why had you been drinking last night?"
They were still sitting at the dining table and David chose that moment - after Iker had been well-fed, cleaned and basked in an afterglow - to ask the question he had in mind all morning. The Spaniard didn't flinch but he didn't look the English boy in the eyes either. He'd almost forgotten about that, those pains seemed so far away now when David's actually here in front of him.
"It's nothing," Iker lied, still didn't look the other boy in the eyes. "I just felt like drinking, then I got too drunk." He shrugged to emphasize that the event held no significance.
"Are you sure?" David's brows furrowed. "It's just out of character for you."
"It's nothing."
"Hey," Iker looked up and found that David had stood up and reached across the table, the tip of his fingers gently caressed the Spaniard's furrowed forehead and brows which he hadn't known he'd made, then down the bridge of his nose to the corner of his mouth and pinched that cheek teasingly, pulled it to make Iker look smile-like. "If you don't wanna talk about it now, I'm not gonna badger. But do know that I'm here and ready to listen to you anytime." He smiled a soft smile that made Iker feel warm inside. "And stop making that face."
"What face?"
The British shrugged while sitting down. "Like I pull out before you reach your orgasm," he said nonchalantly.
"David!" Iker gasped, scandalized. David laughed.
"You laugh now." He chuckled softly. "Feel better?"
"Yeah," he lied again.
"Would you like to go outside? Or stay in bed and have another go?" He quirked his brow, his tone was so unconcerned like it's the most normal question in the world. Iker's face heated up, he felt mortified for the British who didn't even seem to have a tad of shame. He chucked a napkin over the other side of the table, it hit David's face dead on, even his reflex wasn't fast enough.
"Pervert!"
***
"Where are we going?" Xabi asked. It's still early and Steven said since they had time, he would take him somewhere first.
"Surprise." The Scouser smirked. They were on a bus going inbound. The sky was bright and the weather was warm, Xabi was used to this kind of climate in Spain but Steven was so excited about it, he didn't get it often enough.
The Basque didn't ask further and sat in silence, he looked out the window to the bustling streets where crowd from almost all over the city came out to bask in the sunlight. The town looked alive today, not nouveau, Liverpool was still its same old city with rich history as the second wealthiest harbour city of England or 'the New York of Europe', but it looked like the city had been resurrected after its long and sound slumber under the curtain of heavy and dim showers and overcast and leaden sky for the most part of its life. Xabi smiled at the liveliness in general as the bus passed by tall brick buildings which looked brighter than the last time he'd been out with Steven, at flowers that looked more colorful and trees that looked greener along the cobbled streets. It made him want to jump out of the bus and join the public emotion right now.
It didn't take long until the bus arrived at a street and Steven nudged him to get up. Xabi followed the Scouser to the door, the street was less bustling and wasn't a commercial zone at all. Along the road were orange-bricked townhouses, only some of them had front-door signs indicated as pubs, restaurants, pizza places, bakeries, grocery stores, or laundries. Xabi quirked his brow but followed Steven down as the bus stopped silently. The Scouser had glanced to check that the other boy had got down safely, naughty smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he turned and walked. The Basque quickened his paces a bit so he could catch up with him.
"Where are we?" Xabi asked.
"Couldn't you guess?" Steven winked.
"Your house?" He tried.
"Genius boy." The Scouser turned right to another street, then after a few yards turned again to a townhouse. He walked along the path with Xabi following not far behind and the Spaniard waited as he fumbled with the key.
The door was opened and he turned to Xabi. "Well, welcome to my humble shack, your grace." He stepped aside. "After you."
The Basque quirked up his brow and Steven grinned back. He got in and the British followed. "Mommm?" Steven bellowed as he closed the door behind. The next second, a woman's voice shouted back.
"Stevie?!"
The sound came from the other corner of the house and Steven tracked it immediately. Putting his hands in his pockets, Xabi trailed after his friend slowly like he wasn't sure what to do. He looked around and found that the townhouse wasn't as humble as Steven claimed, there were a spacious drawing room on his left and a dining room next to it, on his right were rows of cabinets which Xabi reckoned to store shoes, coats, umbrellas, and other miscellaneous stuff, and then the stairs.
"What are you doing here?! You can't come and go from the camp as you wish! There's a reason I sent you there, you know?" was what Xabi heard from the direction Steven had disappeared to and it made him flinch a bit. He didn't know what to expect from Mrs. Gerrard, Steven had never talked about her before.
"Why? So that you can have some peace while I'm away? Fourteen years too late, mom. And I also come here for a reason, I want you to meet my friend. Xabi."
His cue had come. Xabi inhaled deeply, straight back and chin up. A feeling that he needed to make a first good impression on Mrs. Gerrard came out of nowhere and he walked with a suppressed anxiety into a room which was definitely a homey kitchen.
"Mom, this is Xabi. He's from Spain." The first thing Xabi saw after turning the corner was the big boy Steven hugging his mom - who's standing in front of a stove - from behind. The Scouser grinned widely at him in encouragement. Xabi glanced at him before turning to Mrs. Gerrard. The woman was as tall as her son with long brown hair, she doesn’t look beyond her 40th birthday and is still very beautiful. He could see immediately that Steven got his eyes from her, the eyes that looked at him in surprise for a split second before suddenly turning tender.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Gerrard," the Basque greeted politely. His hands were in his pockets like an awkward teenager that he was who didn't know what to properly do with them.
"Hello, dear. Stevie didn't tell me he would bring home guests otherwise I'd have dressed up more properly." She looked down at her worn-out apron which might have been white once but now off-color that was over her long-sleeved blue shirt and smudgy khaki gardening pants, all of them Xabi didn't bother to notice at first because she looked simply gorgeous anyway. Mrs. Gerrard murmured in a low voice, "damn, Stevie."
The Scouser laughed and Xabi couldn't keep himself from smiling.
Mrs. Gerrard excused herself to get changed. In the meantime, Steven dragged Xabi around the house showing him this room and that. The house was large like he thought and the British's room was as messy as a normal boy's bedroom would. But the part of the house that fascinated him the most was the garden. The first instance that Steven opened the back door and Xabi stepped out, he's rooted to the spot.
The dirt part under his feet was narrow and it led to both right and left directions, disappearing behind green shrubs with pink, blue, yellow, and every other possible-shades-of-colored flower in between. Big trees stood beyond the shrubs creating patterns of lights and shadows on the green-grassed ground by filtering the afternoon sunlight like some perforated designs. Xabi could tell that the garden was large and very beautiful indeed. He didn't wait for the Scouser to lead the way when he walked along the path in the right direction. Butterflies hovered over clumps of long-stemmed Alliums and bees buzzed from a Lavender spike to another. The sun was so strong until he could smell Chlorophyll burnt from the grass and feel the heat of the earth under the sole of his shoes.
Xabi stopped under a maple tree where there was a bench and sat down. Steven flopped down beside him with both arms on the backrest and looked at the Spaniard from the corner of his eyes. "Do you like it?" He asked.
"Yeah, this is very beautiful." Xabi looked around with bewildered brown eyes. "Your mom tends to them?"
"Yeah, she loves gardening. More than looking after me anyway." He chuckled, and then they both fell silent, like the quietness was required to appreciate the beauty of the surroundings. The Basque was aware of Steven's arm behind his shoulder. He could hear Chaffinches chirping in a low voice from the foliage above their heads, otherwise everything was quiet.
"So, is this what they called an English garden?" A few more minutes and Xabi blurted out. Though he agreed that silence enhanced the magical ambience and made it even more surreal, he found he's nervous.
"Umm, yes, I guess. What does a Spanish garden look like by the way?"
"Less messy?"
The Scouser laughed. "That must be the charm." Then he shifted to lay his head on the Spaniard's lap. Xabi stiffened.
"Is this wise?" He asked uncertainly though his fingers had already run through Steven's messy short brown hair. "What will your mom say if she finds us like this?"
"If she comes, I'll hear," he replied.
So they stayed like that for Xabi didn't even know how long. The fragrances of Oriental Lily nearby and sometimes Garden Phlox occasionally were wafted through the wind. Though sitting in the shades, the stuffiness of dog day started to take a toll on him and his lids drooped, his legs were long dead when Steven who he thought had been asleep eons ago shifted.
"We shall get back," the Scouser announced, his hair was even messier when he got up. He combed to make them into a design or another.
"To the camp?"
"No, not yet, to the house." He got up and held out his hand for Xabi to use as a leverage.
They walked in and found the kitchen pervaded with the salivating smells of mash potatoes and steaks. "Whoa." Steven caught the counter and leaned over to look into a pot of limestone soup.
"You hungry yet?" Mrs. Gerrard asked as she stepped back into the kitchen in clean clothes, wiping hands on a napkin.
"Umm, yeah. But at first I was thinking about taking Xabi out to a nice restaurant around here...," he trailed off, glancing at the Spaniard uncertainly. Xabi was about to reply but Mrs. Gerrard cut him off.
"Then you realized no restaurant can cook quite like me," she said and walked up to the pot to stir the soup. "I was about to call out for you because the steaks are ready. Did you just follow the smells back inside?"
Steven grinned. "I suppose."
So they had dinner at Steven's house, which was really good. Xabi didn't have an opportunity to meet Mr. Gerrard who Mrs. Gerrard said would be back around nine. The sun's still up when they took a bus back to the camp and as they sat, Xabi next to a window and Steven next to the aisle, the Basque entwined his fingers with Steven's.
The Scouser didn't look at their hands but at Xabi's eyes and Xabi realized he's going to miss this: the looks in Steven's eyes, the scent of him, the heat of his breaths, the warmth of his skin...
Damn, how bad he wanted this summer to last forever. "Thank you," he said in a low voice.
"My pleasure." Steven smiled and squeezed his hand. As the setting sunlight shone through the bus window spreading warmth over their bodies and they lapsed into silence, Xabi dropped his head on the Scouser's shoulder and closed his eyes.
In the end, they'd never said the three words to one another.
Xabi had never known the other boy’s feelings, he didn’t even know his. He’d never thought of asking what all of these meant, though, and their story was over unresolved. On the last day of their summer camp, they hugged, and Xabi could see tears in Steven's eyes but he didn't mention it.
"I'll e-mail you, yeah?" The Scouser asked, patting Xabi's back but it seemed like he's the one who needed that encouragement at the moment.
"Sure." There's a lump in Xabi's throat. His hands were around Steven's waist and he never wanted to let him go.
"Please tell me when you arrive home safely." He touched Xabi's cheek with callous hands.
Xabi swallowed hard. "Okay."
They didn't even kiss goodbye. He felt so alone and empty as he boarded the plane back to Spain. He looked out the window to the concourse, the sun was burning outside but Xabi felt so cold. After a while, the captain announced their take-off and as the plane flew over the harbour city, across England and the English Channel to Continental Europe where his home was, Xabi felt like he had left a chunk of his heart in Liverpool.
***
"I heard that you're going to Amsterdam."
It's the first thing Gerard said to him when they met at Cesc's house one day. Arsenal and Bazooka jumped each other as soon as they saw one another like they'd been apart for years not days. Cesc felt sorry for them though he might feel sorrier for himself.
"Umm, yes." Cesc headed for the kitchen, intended to avoid this conversation but the other boy didn't let him slip away easily.
"With that Dutch?" He almost sneered by simply saying Robin's nationality. Cesc's heart raced for it and he had to scold himself to stay calm. Gerard's words didn't mean anything, Cesc, stop being a fool and face the reality.
He took in a deep breath. "Of course."
Gerard was silent for a second. "When will you leave?" He didn't look at Cesc when he asked and Cesc felt weird by the words, it's like Gerard asked when he would leave him rather than when he would leave for vacation, and he felt his stomach drop.
"On the 21st," he said. "You?"
"I'll go after Christmas." Gerard caught a rubber ball up off the floor and squeezed it. "When will you come back?"
He's frustrated now. "Why would you care?"
Gerard chucked the ball at the near wall, it rebounded back to him. "I care." There's an edge in his voice and Cesc's heart had gone crazy again. But he could feel like floating for only a second before the bubble popped. "I don't like him."
Cesc seethed. "Well, I don't think your opinion is required here," he snapped, and just felt the need to add, "He’s my boyfriend so it has nothing to do with you."
Gerard flinched by the word 'boyfriend' and his face twisted uglily. "I have no rights now, haven't I?"
Cesc wanted to shout that Gerard had never had rights in the first place whatsoever. "Yes, you don't! You're going with Lionel anyway so shut the fuck up!"
Gerard looked up at him, pure curiosity in his eyes. "Are you going to Amsterdam to spite me?"
Cesc's heart beat faster. "No! I'm going because Robin's home is there and he's my boyfriend!" He felt the need to say that word again, this time just to make sure he didn't forget the fact himself. No one knew better than him that he would go as far as the end of the world to spite Gerard but no one could know that, especially Gerard himself.
Gerard's eyes wavered but he wasn't completely bought. Cesc broke their eye contact because he's afraid that they would betray the truth. After a while, Gerard said, "guess I'll see you after the hols then."
"Merry Christmas." Cesc bit his lips and felt tears prickling in his eyes.
"Merry Christmas, Cesc," Gerard said before turning away and walking out of the room.
To be continued in Chapter 15.
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