The $64,000 Conundrum: Chapter 16
Title: The $64,000 Conundrum: Chapter 16
Authors: fernedakki
Pairing: Daniel Agger / Fernando Torres, Steven Gerrard / Xabi Alonso, David Beckham / Iker Casillas, GerardPiqué / Cesc Fabregas (Robin Van Persie / Cesc Fabregas, Gerard Piqué / Lionel Messi for now)
Rating: NC-17 (This part)
Genre: AU / Romance
Word Count: 5,623 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, 14, 15
The $64,000 Conundrum
Chapter 16
Xabi couldn't concentrate at all during the movie.
He'd swapped numbers with Steven already but they didn't have much time at the time, Pepe's nagging that it's movie showtime. The shock still didn't wear off of him and he kept fidgeting until Luis elbowed him once in annoyance. He wanted to talk to Steven rather than sitting here watching something that couldn't get through his optic nerves. He'd asked, and Steven’s answer was that he arrived in Madrid as an exchange student in Colegio de Fomento el Prado just a week ago and he intended to surprise Xabi. Of course he'd never forgotten about the Basque, he'd just been so busy with his new life that he hadn't had time to meet up with Xabi yet. Of course he intended to 'have time' during next week.
Xabi didn't believe this shit at all, he felt hurt that Steven might have totally forgotten about him or maybe not forgotten but - he didn't know which was worse - he just didn't want to contact Xabi anymore. Maybe Steven had already got a new boyfriend, or girlfriend for that matter, so he thought it's inappropriate to still keep in touch with someone he used to kind of date though it’s three years ago. That made senses and it hurt even more.
But Xabi's more than willing to overlook that bitter part. Already taken or not, Steven and he could still be friends and Xabi realized that he’d missed him a lot. They'd have so many things to talk about. The Spaniard suddenly missed the time they had together in Liverpool. He'd never yearned for it since he came back and life returned its normal rushing pace, the memories of summer in North West England was so far away like it happened in another lifetime. But now that Steven’s here, everything came rushing back and the memories seemed more real.
When the movie finished, the first thing Xabi did as he exited the cinema was fishing out his phone. He's thinking about texting Steven asking whether they could meet up but the awaiting text on the screen was from someone else.
It's Mr. Anonymous.
He'd already forgotten about him.
'You still don't answer my question,' the text read.
Xabi had already forgotten about it. What question? Right now texts from Mr. X seemed like happening in another life instead of the events in Liverpool, like he's just kicked back in time from the second he saw the name Steven Gerrard. The Basque scrolled up to see their previous conversation and found the question.
'Um, I don't know.' He didn't have the mood now, really. He closed their chat window and contemplated texting Steven. What should he say? 'Shall we meet? Are you free this afternoon?' Sounds unconfident, really, and a bit desperate. 'Let's have dinner'? This looks much better, he feels like he's the one who controls the game. The Spaniard selected Steven's name off the list and typed. Taking in a deep breath, he hit send then waited. His friends got in the toilet so he followed them, they're discussing about what to do afterwards but Xabi didn't listen.
Five minutes passed and his phone vibrated. The Basque's heart drummed in his chest. Holding his breath, he opened it up.
'The answer is dehydration reaction. What's wrong with you today, Xabi?'
The Basque exhaled loudly.
"What's up?" Luis asked.
"No, nothing." He put his phone back in his pocket. "We're going somewhere?"
"Pepe wants to have an ice-cream."
"You're the one who wants to do that!" Pepe retorted.
So they went to an ice-cream parlour and Xabi kept glancing at his phone on the table. He hadn't texted back to Mr. Anonymous. After twenty minutes had passed, his phone vibrated again. Xabi snatched it from the table so fast his friends stared at him opened-mouthed and wide-eyed.
'Tonight?'
Xabi couldn't keep the smile to himself.
'Yes. R u free?'
'Sure. Where? We swap places now, u r the local so u'll bring me somewhere nice. ;)'
The Basque smiled at the memory of them strolling along Liverpool walking streets and having dinner at a restaurant at Albert Dock. He'd try to think of some nice restaurants in town, maybe they'd have some at Puerta del Sol.
'R u still at the mall?'
'Yeah.'
His smile was wider. Luis was looking at him suspiciously while Pepe seemed to be enjoying his ice-cream too much. And he said he didn't want it at first.
'We can meet at 6 at the main entrance. How's that sound? Then I'll take u somewhere nice.' It's almost four already and Xabi thought two hours should be enough for Steven to finish whatever he's doing.
'Actually I don't have anything to do right now. If u want, we can meet now and go wherever u'd like to take me. ;)'
Now? Somehow Xabi had never actually prepared for this, all of these. Everything happened so fast, accidentally he found Steven's wallet, they met and all the feelings he had three years ago that he thought was already long dead came back to life and now they would go out together again, like right now. Everything that happened during the past three hours was a bit too much until he felt dizzy.
"Xabi, are you okay?" Luis asked uncertainly as he suspected something wasn't right. Pepe looked up from his ice-cream, wondering what's going on, at last.
"Yeah, yeah," Xabi answered, staring at his phone. "Actually, I think I have to go now."
"What?" Luis was confused.
"I have some errands to do." He waved his phone and Luis narrowed his eyes like he didn't buy it but didn't say anything.
"Okay."
"See you then." Pepe waved his hand, didn't suspect anything.
"See you." He got up. As he walked out of the ice-cream shop, the Basque texted the Scouser, something fluttered in his stomach and it felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
'Deal. Main entrance. Now.'
***
That night after they'd arrived back at Robin's house in the suburbs of Amsterdam, Cesc dragged the Dutch into their room and kissed him.
Robin was stunned to the spot and it took him some time to take in the reality and react. Grabbing Cesc's shoulders, he pushed him until he's against the wall, all the time didn't break the kiss. The Spaniard gasped and since his lips were still sealed by the Dutch's, he only got in Robin's air and the Dutch choke but they still didn't let go of each other. Robin pressed his lips against Cesc's harder like he wanted to grind the other boy into bits and pieces. The Dutch's hands touched Cesc's waist through his shirt then up to his chest and neck. There's a point when the Spaniard was lack of oxygen and almost choked so he released Robin's lips and gasped, but the Dutch didn't let him go long before crushing their lips together again, this time he also caught the hem of Cesc's shirt and pulled it off. The Spaniard did the same with Robin's then his hands slid down to the Dutch's jeans, they caught the button before he glanced up at Robin like asking for permission but at the same time daring him to stop it.
Standing there topless, the Dutch panted in anticipation. Cesc averted his eyes back to the jeans to unbutton and unzip the pants with the smallest movements required. Robin caught his waistband and took over what Cesc had started then hauled them off his feet until he's left with only boxers.
The room was dark and the streetlights that came in through the window glazed Robin’s almost naked body, shadows casted on his tanned skin where the panels barred the light. Cesc's breath caught, he's so beautiful and the Spaniard didn't know why he kept thinking about Gerard when he had this sexy Dutch to himself. Cesc's mind swam in darkness and intoxication as his fingers trailed up Robin's abs. The Dutch's breath caught in his throat but the Catalan's fingers kept trailing up his chest over his hard nipple to his neck, jaw, then lingered over his bottom lip. Robin slipped his tongue out to lick the index finger then caught it with his teeth.
"Cesc," Robin whispered as he caught the Spaniard's hand with his own. Cesc's heart raced fast, if he's going to do this at all, he's going to do it tonight. There's no more perfect timing than this, they're in Robin's hometown in Christmas holidays and he's drunk - not in love, not yet, he's not gonna go that far already, but he's drunk on weeds and too much magic mushroom brownies. And when he kissed Robin again, the Dutch's lips tasted like another kind of recreational substances and he took them like he couldn't live without them, like he needed them more than anything in this life, like they’re going to consume him rather than the other way around.
When Robin eventually entered him that night, Cesc felt like his body was whole but his soul was torn apart, it's the same as feeling high while taking drugs but having no memories of it when he’s sober.
It's ephemeral, artificial. But he didn't even need to come down, toking was legal in Amsterdam, just like sleeping with Robin van Persie.
And if he's ever sober, he could take it over and over again.
***
"Fernando, how have you been darling?! We've missed you!" was what his mom greeted him when he stepped into the house the next evening. His parents were back from Egypt since this afternoon and to be honest, Fernando had never felt least eager to see them like at the moment. The Spaniard had his luggage with all his stuff for a-month living at the Aggers' in tow, he’d got back from school early to get it before Agger would arrive and that meant he ditched the band rehearsal the Dane told him to go.
This time the point wasn't because he didn't want to play what Agger told him to play, though that point still played an important factor, he ditched the session today because he couldn't stand the fact that from now on he could spend time with Agger only when they had the rehearsal and he'd never have the Dane to himself at nights, not anymore.
The thought killed him harder especially after what happened last night, and the Spaniard had the grace to blush when he thought about it. The sex was spontaneous because their last night together was the breaking point of all the unresolved sexual tension accumulating during the month they had lived together. But the night was too short and dawn broke too soon and when Fernando woke up with Agger's arm around him in bed, he knew it's over.
They didn't talk about what happened and the Dane acted as normal as possible except for the stealing glances when he thought no one saw him and subtle touches here and there. Scathing remarks also seemed to be lacking and during the last breakfast of Fernando's one-month stay, they had the most civilized conversation ever. And the Spaniard had tried not to but he still kept blushing, he had no idea how to act in this kind of awkward morning-after situation especially when Agger kept looking at him like he's a hot piece of meat like THAT. Stephanie looked across the table from Fernando to her brother curiously, obviously noticing that something was amiss. Afterwards, when she got up and said goodbye to everyone before leaving for school, she smirked like she just discovered the deepest secret of the universe without even asking.
The only time they'd spent alone that day was during going to school, which they're silent most of the time except for the two times when the Dane asked whether he's okay and told him to come to the rehearsal. Of course Fernando was sore but he's strong enough to not let it show and act like normal. Agger's quietness got on his nerves somehow, the Spaniard knew the morning-after was always an awkward situation and even the Dane could be inarticulate but with his usual biting persona, Fernando just found this form of Agger really off. More than that, he just felt the Dane could have said something after what had happened, anything to reassure him that it wasn't just a dream and he wasn't the only one who's moved by it, pun intended. But Agger wasn't the kind of person who would say anything like that, never would, he should have known.
Fernando didn't like the idea of rehearsal today so he came home early. He chatted with his parents about the going-on of everything as well as how Egypt was. He helped his mom prepare dinner and it's the first time in a month that he had dinner with his own family. It seemed odd, somehow. Afterwards, he helped with the dishwashing and got up to his room where he hadn't slept in for months that it looked unfamiliar. He took the guitar out and strummed the songs he'd learnt when he's with Agger, he's playing 'Spanish Guitar' when someone knocked on his bedroom’s door.
He got up and got the door, it's his dad. "Your friend's down there," his dad told him. Fernando raised his brow.
"Who?"
"Dan Agger." He turned away. "Maybe you forget something?"
Fernando's heart beat fast, he didn't know whether he really forgot something but he didn't care. The fact that Agger's here made him nervous enough. He ditched the practice session because he didn't want to see the Dane for only a couple of hours and then was deprived of him again and the fact that they wouldn't spend the night together would break him inside.
The Spaniard braced himself when he walked along the hallway then down the stairs. Agger's standing in the living room, chatting with his mom, being his charming self like he'd never been to Fernando before. He looked up as the Spaniard approached and the smile he intended to send to his mother was given to Fernando as well. "Hey," and he grinned even wider.
"Thank you for taking care of him again, Daniel. I'll drop by your mom this Sunday to thank her in person and we might go shopping because we'll need more fresh foods in the house now," his mom giggled and Fernando wondered had Agger said something about all the canned foods he discovered in the kitchen that time.
"Sounds like fun." The Dane winked.
"I'll leave you with him then." Then his mom turned to leave the room, ruffling Fernando's blond hair as she passed him by. When there's nothing hindering the Dane from him anymore, he saw that Agger had something in his hand.
"Your mom gave this to me. Souvenir from Egypt." He juggled a beautiful miniature grey-stone pyramid in one hand. The Spaniard kept his eyes on it like in wonder just because he didn't want to look Agger in the eyes. "You stood me up," suddenly the Dane stated a fact. Fernando snapped his eyes back to him.
"What?"
"You didn't go to practice. I want to know why." He didn't come closer to him like the Spaniard feared but instead turning around and shambling across the room, looking at this and that.
"I wanted to see my parents." It's not the whole truth neither it's all lies. Agger walked until he reached the piano, his fingers grazed its lid and Fernando's mind was brought back to that night under the moonlight when he played Claire de Lune.
"Tomorrow you have to come then." The Dane's eyes were still on the piano. The Spaniard swallowed, so that's why he came then. Not because Agger missed him like he did, not even because Fernando forgot something in his room, but because he wanted the Spaniard to do what he ordered him to do, to be his good boy. Fernando bit his lower lip, feeling something churn in his gut, something in the mixture of hurt and disappointment. How could he think last night was special? It's just horny sex between two randy teenage boys, nothing could have come of it neither it came of anything.
"Hey," Agger turned and walked towards him. "What's wrong?" He reached Fernando and his fingers brushed bangs off that freckly forehead, genuine warmth in his brown eyes made the Spaniard shiver.
"Nothing," he murmured and averted his eyes to look at the Dane's feet.
"I guess you might want to unpack your bag in the comfortable bedroom of yours tonight." Agger laughed though it sounded a bit dryly. "And talk to your mom and dad, too, I suppose. So I'll see you tomorrow? I'll pick you up then." With Agger, it's never a question, just a statement of what he thought and Fernando's opinion always didn't matter. Mostly it would irritate him but sometimes, somehow, like right now, it's a relief and it made him smile. The Spaniard looked up again.
"Okay."
The Dane smiled as they gazed into each other's eyes, then he leaned in and kissed Fernando. The Spaniard stiffened in unanticipation but the kiss was soft and romantic and a bit sexy but Agger didn't push or anything. When he released him finally, Fernando found his heart beating like dancing tango and he decided he hated it.
"Good night, babe," Agger said.
***
Steven was waiting by the mall exit when Xabi arrived. His heart drummed nervously in his chest again as he cautiously approached the British. Steven looked up from his phone and grinned brightly at him and it made his heart skip a beat.
"Hey," the Scouser greeted, about to clap on his shoulder but decided against it so they stood there a bit awkwardly.
"Hey." The Basque shifted on his feet.
"What's you plan?" Steven cocked his head, mischief sparkling in his eyes and Xabi immediately thought back to the good old days when they broke the rules and ditched the camp ground.
"Have you had a tour of Madrid yet?" Xabi quirked his brow questioningly.
"You'll be my guide then?" Steven smiled. "Where first?"
"We can start walking from Banco de España station then up along Gran Vía and then Puerta del Sol. We can have dinner there, if you want, that is."
"Sounds fine to me." The Scouser winked. "Lead the way, Xabi."
They chatted all the way while walking to the nearest station and on the subway. Steven talked about his life as an exchange student. He lived not far from Colegio de Fomento el Prado, the school he attended, which excited Xabi because it's also not so far away from his school and his house. He's a bit disappointed that they didn't study at the same school. He recalled vaguely there's also an English exchange student in their year but he came since the start of the term, not after the year had already started for almost three months like this. He wondered whether Steven could change school to Sagrado Corazon since he just started attending so it should be no problem. But to ask that aloud seemed too clingy, they'd just met after three years after all. Xabi quickly dismissed the idea, feeling embarrassed with himself.
Then Steven talked about his life in Liverpool and Xabi suddenly missed everything there. He could still smell the summer of England, felt the sun on his skin. Though Spain possessed a higher quality of sunlight when summer came, for him sunlight in England had the unique intensity that was nothing like the Spanish sun, it's not hot but warm, not fiercely scorching but snugging around his skin like an invisible silk. Suddenly Xabi missed it all, he missed it more than he cared to admit after these three years, the fragrance of Oriental Lily and Garden Phlox, the songs of the Chaffinches, the serene summer atmosphere so in contrast with the bustling vivid one in Spain.
The Scouser didn't talk about his love life and Xabi didn't dare to ask. He didn't ask about Xabi's either and the Basque noticed that he seemed to avoid the topic, its implication made the Spaniard's heart constrict in his chest.
"I suppose you want to pursue your education in physics field?" Steven asked.
"Yes, I'd applied to several universities that are famous for physics study," he looked at Steven. "How about you? What are you going to pursue? Transferred student in your last year of secondary school, huh? Do you plan to further study in Spain or something?" He joked but Steven's eyes told him otherwise.
"That's one of my options, yeah."
The Basque's heart beat fast, hope bubbled in his chest. Did he really mean that? If that's true then they'd have years ahead of them that they could spend together. The prospect of studying at different universities didn't sound as bad as living in different countries, Xabi's sure he could handle that, if the Scouser still wanted this to go on, that is.
And Xabi wanted this, he knew he wanted it, whatever it was, the second Steven got into his life the second time.
"What do you plan to study?"
"Physics, maybe." He shrugged.
"Are you that good at physics?" The Spaniard raised his brow, he still remembered the conversation they had on the last days of that summer that Steven wasn't good at any particular field of sciences, he didn't take special interest in any of them at the time. Steven pouted.
"You've wounded me, Xabi Alonso."
"No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I mean-"
"I know what you mean, sunshine." He winked. "One could make progresses in one’s intellectual pursuit. I know I would never be as good as you, but I'm better now somehow, I wish." The Basque laughed.
"Okay, I'm not going to test your level of knowledge. I believe you then." His mind brought forth the thought of Mr. Anonymous and he quickly brushed it away. He didn't feel like playing puzzles now, it's not the kind of things he'd do with Steven.
"Yes, I also don't think one of the first things we should learn about each other after three years is how educated we are, thinking that we'd already done that the last time." He laughed and the Spaniard laughed along with him. The recorded lady-voice announced the next station.
"That's our stop." Xabi walked to the door, caught a handle and waited for the train to stop.
They disembarked and the chat continued, mostly Steven talked. Sometimes he tried to say something in Spanish which Xabi admitted was quite alright but eventually they fell into the previous habit of conversing in English. The Spaniard kept in mind that he'd slowly adjust that habit and made the Scouser speak Spanish more often than not in the future. They walked along Calle de Alcalá and then Gran Vía, or the Spanish Broadway as people called it, encompassing by the grandeur of the most ornate and upscale architectures in Spain's capital city. The sun was setting and Madrid in winter was as cold as any other places in England, he supposed, since he'd never been in England in winter. Though he'd like that, too, he'd like to feel England in every season, to experience Liverpool in both lights and shadows, to know Steven Gerrard in every way...
When the twilight sun fully surrendered the sky to moon and stars, they were quite hungry. The weather was freezing and their breaths condensed as the air hit the coldness. The Spaniard's hands were deep in his pockets, he jumped from one foot to another, desperate to get into any warm places.
"There's a restaurant on that street, I couldn't remember the name but there're always a lot of people every time I passed by. We can check that one out, if you want." It's the only restaurant he could think of that didn't seem too pricey around here, his brain was frozen and he didn't want to stroll aimlessly any longer. Now was too cold for that.
"Anything you want," the Scouser replied. He gave the Basque his hand. "Let's go then?"
Xabi looked at that hand and hesitated for a second before reaching out and grabbing it. They didn't have gloves and even though Steven's hand was as cold as ice, he felt warmer when their skin touched, so he held onto it for dear life.
As they walked along a narrow shadowed alley to the restaurant the Spaniard suggested, Xabi realized he'd never felt like this since the day he flew out of England.
***
When David arrived at Museo Reina Sofia, it's a quarter past three. He'd already texted Iker that he'd arrive a bit late and he quickly fished his mobile out again to announce his arrival.
'I'm here. Where r u?'
Half a minute passed and Iker answered. 'Come 2 the 2nd fl. Rm 206.06'
David quirked his brow but followed the path there anyway. It had taken more than five minutes before he arrived. The room was all white and large and there were quite a lot of people there that it took the British a full minute to locate Iker.
Then he saw him, David smiled and walked over to the Spaniard who's standing in front of a large black and white painting. "Hey, babe," the English boy greeted by pecking on the Spaniard's cheek. Iker jolted and turned around.
"Hey." His voice seemed a bit dull, not as jolly as usual but David dismissed it. Maybe because he'd been looking at a depressive painting for too long, sometimes arts affected Iker's mood like that.
"What's up? You wanted to see me?" David grinned his usual charming grin, his eyes sparkled merrily but he noticed that Iker only simpered and his eyes were dim.
There's something not quite right here but David couldn't put his finger on. "Iker, what's wrong?"
The Spaniard turned back to the painting and the British felt his heart drum against his ribcage. "Do you know what this painting is, David?" Iker asked.
David looked at the painting, in the picture he saw a bull, a horse, a lot of screaming people, hands and legs everywhere, burning houses? And were the people dying or something? "A war story?" He tried.
Iker nodded. "Yes. The piece name is 'Geurnica'. Picasso painted it during the Spanish Civil War as a condemnation of the bombing of the city of the same name in the Basque Country, and as an icon of the worldwide anti-war sentiment and the fight for freedom." David looked at the painting and got it a bit though he didn't actually know much about Spanish Civil War, he's not a fan of history anyway.
"How about the bull, and the horse? Are they symbols for something?"
"The painting shows suffering people, animals and buildings affected by violence of the war alike." Iker crossed his arms over his chest. "Picasso said that painting was a blind man's profession. He paints not what he sees but what he feels, what he tells himself about what he has seen. Art is not the truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth." The Spaniard turned around and David was frozen to the spot. Iker's eyes were full of tears. "And I've been living a lie, Dave. I might have been fooling myself that the painting I've been in was perfectly beautiful and no trouble could happen in paradise. I've been lying to myself that everything would be fine as long as you're happy. I couldn't care less about my own needs. But that couldn't be true, could it?" He took in a deep breath. "David, I think we should stop this now."
The English boy felt like someone had hit his head with a club. "What did you say?" His voice was raspy.
"I can't do this, Dave," the Spaniard said, eyes bearing into the painting.
"Then don't do it," David whispered, but Iker heard anyway.
"I mean, I can't keep being your friend with benefits, or whatever!" His hands gestured in the air like to indicate that he didn't care what the fuck it's called. "You have Victoria as your girlfriend now, you need to be faithful to her, David. That's the rule of relationship!"
The Londoner felt like a seat would be nice right now. He looked around and found an empty bench not far away so he caught the Spaniard's hand and walked there. Iker tensed but let him hold his hand nonetheless. When they finally seated, David was silent for a minute and Iker simply waited because it's not his cue to talk.
"Why?" Finally David asked. "Why doing this now? You seemed fine before."
"No, I've never been fine, Dave.” Iker took in a deep breath. “It might seem like it but it's not. I've told you I've been living a lie, I've been lying to myself, lying to you. We should've never done this from the start, I should've known better that there would be no happy ending for this shit."
David's stunned. "'This shit'?! You called what we have 'this shit'?! Iker, don't you dare tell me you weren't happy just a bit when we're together!" He’s angry now, of course.
The Spaniard was shaking, barely, but the British noticed. "Of course I'm happy, but it'd never be enough. It's addictive, it's consuming me. I'd keep on wanting more of it, more of you. Eventually I'd want all of you, and you couldn't give me that, Dave."
The Londoner stared at him. "We could manage that, you know? If you want more time with me, we might spend nights together more often-"
"David, for Christ’s sake! Listen to what you're saying!" Iker raised his voice and people turned to look at them. He swallowed and lowered the volume. "You can't keep on doing that. All of this needs to be stopped. It's fucking wrong, Dave! Where have all your scruples gone? Think about what we've done, think about Victoria!"
"Don't you drag Victoria into this, this is all about us!"
Iker gaped incredulously. "What?!" He hissed. "Christ, David. This is all about Victoria!" If she didn't exist, we'd never have this conversation, would we?
The Londoner put his hand on his mouth. "What would I do without you?" He asked feebly. "You're the only one that could keep me sane, Iker, your presence calms me. Without you I might even go crazy." He's using this tactic again, it's getting old.
"You seem to be doing fine lately, David," he said. "And I used to think that I could do it before, I used to think that it...- this - is all about giving and not taking. But I can't David, I can't do this anymore."
"Why?"
"Because you're only taking and not giving. You're being selfish, Dave. And this won't work."
The English boy was silent, he needed no more clarification on that part and Iker wondered he did know what he'd been doing all along.
They sat in silence for a while, David staring at the painting in front of him like he found it fascinating all of a sudden. When he thought Iker had nothing left to say, Iker spoke up, "I guess this is it."
David wanted to say, 'no, this isn't it. What do you think you're doing?!' but he didn't have enough reasons to beg the Spaniard to stay.
Or actually he had? But it's not reason like logical reason, this one was emotional...
Something dawned on him and David stared deeper into the painting, feeling like just having been struck by a lightning. This was all a lie, wasn't it? He felt Iker stand up beside him. His mien felt forced and the British knew the Spaniard was on the verge of breaking down like him but he'd never let David see that, he'd never let David see his weaknesses especially in a time like this.
"I'll see you on Monday then," the Spaniard's voice was hoarse and the English boy wanted to reach out and grab him and beg him not to go, to hold him close and tell him everything between them would be okay, that he...he.... But David was still shocked with himself he couldn't move. Iker lingered only for a couple of seconds more and when he realized the British wasn't going to say anything, he whispered, "goodbye, David." Then he turned around and walked away.
The English boy sat there alone still staring at the painting, Iker's words ran through his mind, this is all a lie, we've been living a lie, David. Art is not the truth, it's a blind man's profession. The artist paints not what he sees but what he feels. What you see in the picture is not true, but what it makes you feel, that is true. Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth.
Fuck, how could he be so blind?
The British ran a hand over his face, feeling dizzy. David knew why they couldn't keep doing this, he knew it now. He knew it when he looked into the painting in front of him, not just at the painting but into it, deep down, until he could see through all the layers of false perception and discover the grain of truth behind. And when it lay bare in front of him, he didn't understand how he could be so blind all this time. It's so obvious, isn't it? Why hasn't he realized before?
That his best friend was in love with him...
.
To be continued in Chapter 17.
.
Authors: fernedakki
Pairing: Daniel Agger / Fernando Torres, Steven Gerrard / Xabi Alonso, David Beckham / Iker Casillas, GerardPiqué / Cesc Fabregas (Robin Van Persie / Cesc Fabregas, Gerard Piqué / Lionel Messi for now)
Rating: NC-17 (This part)
Genre: AU / Romance
Word Count: 5,623 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, 14, 15
The $64,000 Conundrum
Chapter 16
Xabi couldn't concentrate at all during the movie.
He'd swapped numbers with Steven already but they didn't have much time at the time, Pepe's nagging that it's movie showtime. The shock still didn't wear off of him and he kept fidgeting until Luis elbowed him once in annoyance. He wanted to talk to Steven rather than sitting here watching something that couldn't get through his optic nerves. He'd asked, and Steven’s answer was that he arrived in Madrid as an exchange student in Colegio de Fomento el Prado just a week ago and he intended to surprise Xabi. Of course he'd never forgotten about the Basque, he'd just been so busy with his new life that he hadn't had time to meet up with Xabi yet. Of course he intended to 'have time' during next week.
Xabi didn't believe this shit at all, he felt hurt that Steven might have totally forgotten about him or maybe not forgotten but - he didn't know which was worse - he just didn't want to contact Xabi anymore. Maybe Steven had already got a new boyfriend, or girlfriend for that matter, so he thought it's inappropriate to still keep in touch with someone he used to kind of date though it’s three years ago. That made senses and it hurt even more.
But Xabi's more than willing to overlook that bitter part. Already taken or not, Steven and he could still be friends and Xabi realized that he’d missed him a lot. They'd have so many things to talk about. The Spaniard suddenly missed the time they had together in Liverpool. He'd never yearned for it since he came back and life returned its normal rushing pace, the memories of summer in North West England was so far away like it happened in another lifetime. But now that Steven’s here, everything came rushing back and the memories seemed more real.
When the movie finished, the first thing Xabi did as he exited the cinema was fishing out his phone. He's thinking about texting Steven asking whether they could meet up but the awaiting text on the screen was from someone else.
It's Mr. Anonymous.
He'd already forgotten about him.
'You still don't answer my question,' the text read.
Xabi had already forgotten about it. What question? Right now texts from Mr. X seemed like happening in another life instead of the events in Liverpool, like he's just kicked back in time from the second he saw the name Steven Gerrard. The Basque scrolled up to see their previous conversation and found the question.
'Um, I don't know.' He didn't have the mood now, really. He closed their chat window and contemplated texting Steven. What should he say? 'Shall we meet? Are you free this afternoon?' Sounds unconfident, really, and a bit desperate. 'Let's have dinner'? This looks much better, he feels like he's the one who controls the game. The Spaniard selected Steven's name off the list and typed. Taking in a deep breath, he hit send then waited. His friends got in the toilet so he followed them, they're discussing about what to do afterwards but Xabi didn't listen.
Five minutes passed and his phone vibrated. The Basque's heart drummed in his chest. Holding his breath, he opened it up.
'The answer is dehydration reaction. What's wrong with you today, Xabi?'
The Basque exhaled loudly.
"What's up?" Luis asked.
"No, nothing." He put his phone back in his pocket. "We're going somewhere?"
"Pepe wants to have an ice-cream."
"You're the one who wants to do that!" Pepe retorted.
So they went to an ice-cream parlour and Xabi kept glancing at his phone on the table. He hadn't texted back to Mr. Anonymous. After twenty minutes had passed, his phone vibrated again. Xabi snatched it from the table so fast his friends stared at him opened-mouthed and wide-eyed.
'Tonight?'
Xabi couldn't keep the smile to himself.
'Yes. R u free?'
'Sure. Where? We swap places now, u r the local so u'll bring me somewhere nice. ;)'
The Basque smiled at the memory of them strolling along Liverpool walking streets and having dinner at a restaurant at Albert Dock. He'd try to think of some nice restaurants in town, maybe they'd have some at Puerta del Sol.
'R u still at the mall?'
'Yeah.'
His smile was wider. Luis was looking at him suspiciously while Pepe seemed to be enjoying his ice-cream too much. And he said he didn't want it at first.
'We can meet at 6 at the main entrance. How's that sound? Then I'll take u somewhere nice.' It's almost four already and Xabi thought two hours should be enough for Steven to finish whatever he's doing.
'Actually I don't have anything to do right now. If u want, we can meet now and go wherever u'd like to take me. ;)'
Now? Somehow Xabi had never actually prepared for this, all of these. Everything happened so fast, accidentally he found Steven's wallet, they met and all the feelings he had three years ago that he thought was already long dead came back to life and now they would go out together again, like right now. Everything that happened during the past three hours was a bit too much until he felt dizzy.
"Xabi, are you okay?" Luis asked uncertainly as he suspected something wasn't right. Pepe looked up from his ice-cream, wondering what's going on, at last.
"Yeah, yeah," Xabi answered, staring at his phone. "Actually, I think I have to go now."
"What?" Luis was confused.
"I have some errands to do." He waved his phone and Luis narrowed his eyes like he didn't buy it but didn't say anything.
"Okay."
"See you then." Pepe waved his hand, didn't suspect anything.
"See you." He got up. As he walked out of the ice-cream shop, the Basque texted the Scouser, something fluttered in his stomach and it felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
'Deal. Main entrance. Now.'
***
That night after they'd arrived back at Robin's house in the suburbs of Amsterdam, Cesc dragged the Dutch into their room and kissed him.
Robin was stunned to the spot and it took him some time to take in the reality and react. Grabbing Cesc's shoulders, he pushed him until he's against the wall, all the time didn't break the kiss. The Spaniard gasped and since his lips were still sealed by the Dutch's, he only got in Robin's air and the Dutch choke but they still didn't let go of each other. Robin pressed his lips against Cesc's harder like he wanted to grind the other boy into bits and pieces. The Dutch's hands touched Cesc's waist through his shirt then up to his chest and neck. There's a point when the Spaniard was lack of oxygen and almost choked so he released Robin's lips and gasped, but the Dutch didn't let him go long before crushing their lips together again, this time he also caught the hem of Cesc's shirt and pulled it off. The Spaniard did the same with Robin's then his hands slid down to the Dutch's jeans, they caught the button before he glanced up at Robin like asking for permission but at the same time daring him to stop it.
Standing there topless, the Dutch panted in anticipation. Cesc averted his eyes back to the jeans to unbutton and unzip the pants with the smallest movements required. Robin caught his waistband and took over what Cesc had started then hauled them off his feet until he's left with only boxers.
The room was dark and the streetlights that came in through the window glazed Robin’s almost naked body, shadows casted on his tanned skin where the panels barred the light. Cesc's breath caught, he's so beautiful and the Spaniard didn't know why he kept thinking about Gerard when he had this sexy Dutch to himself. Cesc's mind swam in darkness and intoxication as his fingers trailed up Robin's abs. The Dutch's breath caught in his throat but the Catalan's fingers kept trailing up his chest over his hard nipple to his neck, jaw, then lingered over his bottom lip. Robin slipped his tongue out to lick the index finger then caught it with his teeth.
"Cesc," Robin whispered as he caught the Spaniard's hand with his own. Cesc's heart raced fast, if he's going to do this at all, he's going to do it tonight. There's no more perfect timing than this, they're in Robin's hometown in Christmas holidays and he's drunk - not in love, not yet, he's not gonna go that far already, but he's drunk on weeds and too much magic mushroom brownies. And when he kissed Robin again, the Dutch's lips tasted like another kind of recreational substances and he took them like he couldn't live without them, like he needed them more than anything in this life, like they’re going to consume him rather than the other way around.
When Robin eventually entered him that night, Cesc felt like his body was whole but his soul was torn apart, it's the same as feeling high while taking drugs but having no memories of it when he’s sober.
It's ephemeral, artificial. But he didn't even need to come down, toking was legal in Amsterdam, just like sleeping with Robin van Persie.
And if he's ever sober, he could take it over and over again.
***
"Fernando, how have you been darling?! We've missed you!" was what his mom greeted him when he stepped into the house the next evening. His parents were back from Egypt since this afternoon and to be honest, Fernando had never felt least eager to see them like at the moment. The Spaniard had his luggage with all his stuff for a-month living at the Aggers' in tow, he’d got back from school early to get it before Agger would arrive and that meant he ditched the band rehearsal the Dane told him to go.
This time the point wasn't because he didn't want to play what Agger told him to play, though that point still played an important factor, he ditched the session today because he couldn't stand the fact that from now on he could spend time with Agger only when they had the rehearsal and he'd never have the Dane to himself at nights, not anymore.
The thought killed him harder especially after what happened last night, and the Spaniard had the grace to blush when he thought about it. The sex was spontaneous because their last night together was the breaking point of all the unresolved sexual tension accumulating during the month they had lived together. But the night was too short and dawn broke too soon and when Fernando woke up with Agger's arm around him in bed, he knew it's over.
They didn't talk about what happened and the Dane acted as normal as possible except for the stealing glances when he thought no one saw him and subtle touches here and there. Scathing remarks also seemed to be lacking and during the last breakfast of Fernando's one-month stay, they had the most civilized conversation ever. And the Spaniard had tried not to but he still kept blushing, he had no idea how to act in this kind of awkward morning-after situation especially when Agger kept looking at him like he's a hot piece of meat like THAT. Stephanie looked across the table from Fernando to her brother curiously, obviously noticing that something was amiss. Afterwards, when she got up and said goodbye to everyone before leaving for school, she smirked like she just discovered the deepest secret of the universe without even asking.
The only time they'd spent alone that day was during going to school, which they're silent most of the time except for the two times when the Dane asked whether he's okay and told him to come to the rehearsal. Of course Fernando was sore but he's strong enough to not let it show and act like normal. Agger's quietness got on his nerves somehow, the Spaniard knew the morning-after was always an awkward situation and even the Dane could be inarticulate but with his usual biting persona, Fernando just found this form of Agger really off. More than that, he just felt the Dane could have said something after what had happened, anything to reassure him that it wasn't just a dream and he wasn't the only one who's moved by it, pun intended. But Agger wasn't the kind of person who would say anything like that, never would, he should have known.
Fernando didn't like the idea of rehearsal today so he came home early. He chatted with his parents about the going-on of everything as well as how Egypt was. He helped his mom prepare dinner and it's the first time in a month that he had dinner with his own family. It seemed odd, somehow. Afterwards, he helped with the dishwashing and got up to his room where he hadn't slept in for months that it looked unfamiliar. He took the guitar out and strummed the songs he'd learnt when he's with Agger, he's playing 'Spanish Guitar' when someone knocked on his bedroom’s door.
He got up and got the door, it's his dad. "Your friend's down there," his dad told him. Fernando raised his brow.
"Who?"
"Dan Agger." He turned away. "Maybe you forget something?"
Fernando's heart beat fast, he didn't know whether he really forgot something but he didn't care. The fact that Agger's here made him nervous enough. He ditched the practice session because he didn't want to see the Dane for only a couple of hours and then was deprived of him again and the fact that they wouldn't spend the night together would break him inside.
The Spaniard braced himself when he walked along the hallway then down the stairs. Agger's standing in the living room, chatting with his mom, being his charming self like he'd never been to Fernando before. He looked up as the Spaniard approached and the smile he intended to send to his mother was given to Fernando as well. "Hey," and he grinned even wider.
"Thank you for taking care of him again, Daniel. I'll drop by your mom this Sunday to thank her in person and we might go shopping because we'll need more fresh foods in the house now," his mom giggled and Fernando wondered had Agger said something about all the canned foods he discovered in the kitchen that time.
"Sounds like fun." The Dane winked.
"I'll leave you with him then." Then his mom turned to leave the room, ruffling Fernando's blond hair as she passed him by. When there's nothing hindering the Dane from him anymore, he saw that Agger had something in his hand.
"Your mom gave this to me. Souvenir from Egypt." He juggled a beautiful miniature grey-stone pyramid in one hand. The Spaniard kept his eyes on it like in wonder just because he didn't want to look Agger in the eyes. "You stood me up," suddenly the Dane stated a fact. Fernando snapped his eyes back to him.
"What?"
"You didn't go to practice. I want to know why." He didn't come closer to him like the Spaniard feared but instead turning around and shambling across the room, looking at this and that.
"I wanted to see my parents." It's not the whole truth neither it's all lies. Agger walked until he reached the piano, his fingers grazed its lid and Fernando's mind was brought back to that night under the moonlight when he played Claire de Lune.
"Tomorrow you have to come then." The Dane's eyes were still on the piano. The Spaniard swallowed, so that's why he came then. Not because Agger missed him like he did, not even because Fernando forgot something in his room, but because he wanted the Spaniard to do what he ordered him to do, to be his good boy. Fernando bit his lower lip, feeling something churn in his gut, something in the mixture of hurt and disappointment. How could he think last night was special? It's just horny sex between two randy teenage boys, nothing could have come of it neither it came of anything.
"Hey," Agger turned and walked towards him. "What's wrong?" He reached Fernando and his fingers brushed bangs off that freckly forehead, genuine warmth in his brown eyes made the Spaniard shiver.
"Nothing," he murmured and averted his eyes to look at the Dane's feet.
"I guess you might want to unpack your bag in the comfortable bedroom of yours tonight." Agger laughed though it sounded a bit dryly. "And talk to your mom and dad, too, I suppose. So I'll see you tomorrow? I'll pick you up then." With Agger, it's never a question, just a statement of what he thought and Fernando's opinion always didn't matter. Mostly it would irritate him but sometimes, somehow, like right now, it's a relief and it made him smile. The Spaniard looked up again.
"Okay."
The Dane smiled as they gazed into each other's eyes, then he leaned in and kissed Fernando. The Spaniard stiffened in unanticipation but the kiss was soft and romantic and a bit sexy but Agger didn't push or anything. When he released him finally, Fernando found his heart beating like dancing tango and he decided he hated it.
"Good night, babe," Agger said.
***
Steven was waiting by the mall exit when Xabi arrived. His heart drummed nervously in his chest again as he cautiously approached the British. Steven looked up from his phone and grinned brightly at him and it made his heart skip a beat.
"Hey," the Scouser greeted, about to clap on his shoulder but decided against it so they stood there a bit awkwardly.
"Hey." The Basque shifted on his feet.
"What's you plan?" Steven cocked his head, mischief sparkling in his eyes and Xabi immediately thought back to the good old days when they broke the rules and ditched the camp ground.
"Have you had a tour of Madrid yet?" Xabi quirked his brow questioningly.
"You'll be my guide then?" Steven smiled. "Where first?"
"We can start walking from Banco de España station then up along Gran Vía and then Puerta del Sol. We can have dinner there, if you want, that is."
"Sounds fine to me." The Scouser winked. "Lead the way, Xabi."
They chatted all the way while walking to the nearest station and on the subway. Steven talked about his life as an exchange student. He lived not far from Colegio de Fomento el Prado, the school he attended, which excited Xabi because it's also not so far away from his school and his house. He's a bit disappointed that they didn't study at the same school. He recalled vaguely there's also an English exchange student in their year but he came since the start of the term, not after the year had already started for almost three months like this. He wondered whether Steven could change school to Sagrado Corazon since he just started attending so it should be no problem. But to ask that aloud seemed too clingy, they'd just met after three years after all. Xabi quickly dismissed the idea, feeling embarrassed with himself.
Then Steven talked about his life in Liverpool and Xabi suddenly missed everything there. He could still smell the summer of England, felt the sun on his skin. Though Spain possessed a higher quality of sunlight when summer came, for him sunlight in England had the unique intensity that was nothing like the Spanish sun, it's not hot but warm, not fiercely scorching but snugging around his skin like an invisible silk. Suddenly Xabi missed it all, he missed it more than he cared to admit after these three years, the fragrance of Oriental Lily and Garden Phlox, the songs of the Chaffinches, the serene summer atmosphere so in contrast with the bustling vivid one in Spain.
The Scouser didn't talk about his love life and Xabi didn't dare to ask. He didn't ask about Xabi's either and the Basque noticed that he seemed to avoid the topic, its implication made the Spaniard's heart constrict in his chest.
"I suppose you want to pursue your education in physics field?" Steven asked.
"Yes, I'd applied to several universities that are famous for physics study," he looked at Steven. "How about you? What are you going to pursue? Transferred student in your last year of secondary school, huh? Do you plan to further study in Spain or something?" He joked but Steven's eyes told him otherwise.
"That's one of my options, yeah."
The Basque's heart beat fast, hope bubbled in his chest. Did he really mean that? If that's true then they'd have years ahead of them that they could spend together. The prospect of studying at different universities didn't sound as bad as living in different countries, Xabi's sure he could handle that, if the Scouser still wanted this to go on, that is.
And Xabi wanted this, he knew he wanted it, whatever it was, the second Steven got into his life the second time.
"What do you plan to study?"
"Physics, maybe." He shrugged.
"Are you that good at physics?" The Spaniard raised his brow, he still remembered the conversation they had on the last days of that summer that Steven wasn't good at any particular field of sciences, he didn't take special interest in any of them at the time. Steven pouted.
"You've wounded me, Xabi Alonso."
"No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I mean-"
"I know what you mean, sunshine." He winked. "One could make progresses in one’s intellectual pursuit. I know I would never be as good as you, but I'm better now somehow, I wish." The Basque laughed.
"Okay, I'm not going to test your level of knowledge. I believe you then." His mind brought forth the thought of Mr. Anonymous and he quickly brushed it away. He didn't feel like playing puzzles now, it's not the kind of things he'd do with Steven.
"Yes, I also don't think one of the first things we should learn about each other after three years is how educated we are, thinking that we'd already done that the last time." He laughed and the Spaniard laughed along with him. The recorded lady-voice announced the next station.
"That's our stop." Xabi walked to the door, caught a handle and waited for the train to stop.
They disembarked and the chat continued, mostly Steven talked. Sometimes he tried to say something in Spanish which Xabi admitted was quite alright but eventually they fell into the previous habit of conversing in English. The Spaniard kept in mind that he'd slowly adjust that habit and made the Scouser speak Spanish more often than not in the future. They walked along Calle de Alcalá and then Gran Vía, or the Spanish Broadway as people called it, encompassing by the grandeur of the most ornate and upscale architectures in Spain's capital city. The sun was setting and Madrid in winter was as cold as any other places in England, he supposed, since he'd never been in England in winter. Though he'd like that, too, he'd like to feel England in every season, to experience Liverpool in both lights and shadows, to know Steven Gerrard in every way...
When the twilight sun fully surrendered the sky to moon and stars, they were quite hungry. The weather was freezing and their breaths condensed as the air hit the coldness. The Spaniard's hands were deep in his pockets, he jumped from one foot to another, desperate to get into any warm places.
"There's a restaurant on that street, I couldn't remember the name but there're always a lot of people every time I passed by. We can check that one out, if you want." It's the only restaurant he could think of that didn't seem too pricey around here, his brain was frozen and he didn't want to stroll aimlessly any longer. Now was too cold for that.
"Anything you want," the Scouser replied. He gave the Basque his hand. "Let's go then?"
Xabi looked at that hand and hesitated for a second before reaching out and grabbing it. They didn't have gloves and even though Steven's hand was as cold as ice, he felt warmer when their skin touched, so he held onto it for dear life.
As they walked along a narrow shadowed alley to the restaurant the Spaniard suggested, Xabi realized he'd never felt like this since the day he flew out of England.
***
When David arrived at Museo Reina Sofia, it's a quarter past three. He'd already texted Iker that he'd arrive a bit late and he quickly fished his mobile out again to announce his arrival.
'I'm here. Where r u?'
Half a minute passed and Iker answered. 'Come 2 the 2nd fl. Rm 206.06'
David quirked his brow but followed the path there anyway. It had taken more than five minutes before he arrived. The room was all white and large and there were quite a lot of people there that it took the British a full minute to locate Iker.
Then he saw him, David smiled and walked over to the Spaniard who's standing in front of a large black and white painting. "Hey, babe," the English boy greeted by pecking on the Spaniard's cheek. Iker jolted and turned around.
"Hey." His voice seemed a bit dull, not as jolly as usual but David dismissed it. Maybe because he'd been looking at a depressive painting for too long, sometimes arts affected Iker's mood like that.
"What's up? You wanted to see me?" David grinned his usual charming grin, his eyes sparkled merrily but he noticed that Iker only simpered and his eyes were dim.
There's something not quite right here but David couldn't put his finger on. "Iker, what's wrong?"
The Spaniard turned back to the painting and the British felt his heart drum against his ribcage. "Do you know what this painting is, David?" Iker asked.
David looked at the painting, in the picture he saw a bull, a horse, a lot of screaming people, hands and legs everywhere, burning houses? And were the people dying or something? "A war story?" He tried.
Iker nodded. "Yes. The piece name is 'Geurnica'. Picasso painted it during the Spanish Civil War as a condemnation of the bombing of the city of the same name in the Basque Country, and as an icon of the worldwide anti-war sentiment and the fight for freedom." David looked at the painting and got it a bit though he didn't actually know much about Spanish Civil War, he's not a fan of history anyway.
"How about the bull, and the horse? Are they symbols for something?"
"The painting shows suffering people, animals and buildings affected by violence of the war alike." Iker crossed his arms over his chest. "Picasso said that painting was a blind man's profession. He paints not what he sees but what he feels, what he tells himself about what he has seen. Art is not the truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth." The Spaniard turned around and David was frozen to the spot. Iker's eyes were full of tears. "And I've been living a lie, Dave. I might have been fooling myself that the painting I've been in was perfectly beautiful and no trouble could happen in paradise. I've been lying to myself that everything would be fine as long as you're happy. I couldn't care less about my own needs. But that couldn't be true, could it?" He took in a deep breath. "David, I think we should stop this now."
The English boy felt like someone had hit his head with a club. "What did you say?" His voice was raspy.
"I can't do this, Dave," the Spaniard said, eyes bearing into the painting.
"Then don't do it," David whispered, but Iker heard anyway.
"I mean, I can't keep being your friend with benefits, or whatever!" His hands gestured in the air like to indicate that he didn't care what the fuck it's called. "You have Victoria as your girlfriend now, you need to be faithful to her, David. That's the rule of relationship!"
The Londoner felt like a seat would be nice right now. He looked around and found an empty bench not far away so he caught the Spaniard's hand and walked there. Iker tensed but let him hold his hand nonetheless. When they finally seated, David was silent for a minute and Iker simply waited because it's not his cue to talk.
"Why?" Finally David asked. "Why doing this now? You seemed fine before."
"No, I've never been fine, Dave.” Iker took in a deep breath. “It might seem like it but it's not. I've told you I've been living a lie, I've been lying to myself, lying to you. We should've never done this from the start, I should've known better that there would be no happy ending for this shit."
David's stunned. "'This shit'?! You called what we have 'this shit'?! Iker, don't you dare tell me you weren't happy just a bit when we're together!" He’s angry now, of course.
The Spaniard was shaking, barely, but the British noticed. "Of course I'm happy, but it'd never be enough. It's addictive, it's consuming me. I'd keep on wanting more of it, more of you. Eventually I'd want all of you, and you couldn't give me that, Dave."
The Londoner stared at him. "We could manage that, you know? If you want more time with me, we might spend nights together more often-"
"David, for Christ’s sake! Listen to what you're saying!" Iker raised his voice and people turned to look at them. He swallowed and lowered the volume. "You can't keep on doing that. All of this needs to be stopped. It's fucking wrong, Dave! Where have all your scruples gone? Think about what we've done, think about Victoria!"
"Don't you drag Victoria into this, this is all about us!"
Iker gaped incredulously. "What?!" He hissed. "Christ, David. This is all about Victoria!" If she didn't exist, we'd never have this conversation, would we?
The Londoner put his hand on his mouth. "What would I do without you?" He asked feebly. "You're the only one that could keep me sane, Iker, your presence calms me. Without you I might even go crazy." He's using this tactic again, it's getting old.
"You seem to be doing fine lately, David," he said. "And I used to think that I could do it before, I used to think that it...- this - is all about giving and not taking. But I can't David, I can't do this anymore."
"Why?"
"Because you're only taking and not giving. You're being selfish, Dave. And this won't work."
The English boy was silent, he needed no more clarification on that part and Iker wondered he did know what he'd been doing all along.
They sat in silence for a while, David staring at the painting in front of him like he found it fascinating all of a sudden. When he thought Iker had nothing left to say, Iker spoke up, "I guess this is it."
David wanted to say, 'no, this isn't it. What do you think you're doing?!' but he didn't have enough reasons to beg the Spaniard to stay.
Or actually he had? But it's not reason like logical reason, this one was emotional...
Something dawned on him and David stared deeper into the painting, feeling like just having been struck by a lightning. This was all a lie, wasn't it? He felt Iker stand up beside him. His mien felt forced and the British knew the Spaniard was on the verge of breaking down like him but he'd never let David see that, he'd never let David see his weaknesses especially in a time like this.
"I'll see you on Monday then," the Spaniard's voice was hoarse and the English boy wanted to reach out and grab him and beg him not to go, to hold him close and tell him everything between them would be okay, that he...he.... But David was still shocked with himself he couldn't move. Iker lingered only for a couple of seconds more and when he realized the British wasn't going to say anything, he whispered, "goodbye, David." Then he turned around and walked away.
The English boy sat there alone still staring at the painting, Iker's words ran through his mind, this is all a lie, we've been living a lie, David. Art is not the truth, it's a blind man's profession. The artist paints not what he sees but what he feels. What you see in the picture is not true, but what it makes you feel, that is true. Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth.
Fuck, how could he be so blind?
The British ran a hand over his face, feeling dizzy. David knew why they couldn't keep doing this, he knew it now. He knew it when he looked into the painting in front of him, not just at the painting but into it, deep down, until he could see through all the layers of false perception and discover the grain of truth behind. And when it lay bare in front of him, he didn't understand how he could be so blind all this time. It's so obvious, isn't it? Why hasn't he realized before?
That his best friend was in love with him...
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To be continued in Chapter 17.
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