(no subject)
title: this is the wonder that keeps stars apart.
rating: r, AT MOST.
pairings: steven gerrard/xabi alonso, fernando torres/sergio ramos, SLIGHT implied david villa/david silva.
other characters: pepe reina, periko alonso, arsene wenger, jamie carragher, dirk kuyt, rafa benitez, yolanda ruiz.
word count: 18,768.
disclaimer: i'm lying.
summary: stevie is a famous movie star. fernando is his manager. sergio and pepe are stevie's personal chefs, villa is his chauffer. xabi is the replacement for his butler, periko.
warning: there is a character death.
notes: this is completely and entirely and absolutely for slobberingboo who would literally FORCE me to write ahhaahahahahhaahhahahahhahahhahahahahahahahahhhaha. she also beta'd and gave feedback and is perrrrrfect, you guys haha she is my best friend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ALSO, about the fic, well. so i didn't write it in one sitting or anything haahhahahahlksdjfalf, which is why i like. so i'd forget what i had previously written????? HAHAHAHAHHA i don't know if it showed through. slobberingboo didn't say anything so i hope not?? and by the end i was just like, I NEED TO FINISH THIS so haahhaah THERE YOU GO. ALSO!!!!!!! i'm sorry if i wrote anything factually incorrect?????? i don't have much (if anything???) in it that is factual i think, so...hahhahaha. hmm.
title taken from i carry your heart with me by ee cummings.
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
Stevie stares out the window, watches the deep blue water of his pool as if lost in a trance. Maybe he is thinking back to a time in his childhood, maybe he is thinking about-
“Where’s my favorite movie star?” Fernando sing-songs, interrupting his thoughts. Stevie turns around and smiles at him, gives him a quiet nod. Fernando beams and sits down on the couch in the room. He puts his legs up on the coffee table, and pats the seat beside him.
Stevie laughs and shakes his head. “I’m good here, mate.” Fernando is wearing a new Armani, Stevie notes. “I’m guessing you’ve got good news. Considering your new suit, and all.”
Fernando’s smile widens. “Your movie is number one in the charts from opening weekend.” Fernando takes a deep breath, adding in: “And-Armani wants to endorse you.”
Stevie laughs. “Fucking finally! I’ve wanted that endorsement for months now.”
Fernando grins. “I know! Don’t you love your perfect manager for getting you it?”
He wiggles his eyebrows, and Stevie rolls his eyes in reply. “Yeah, sure.”
Fernando snorts. “Ungrateful, you are.” He stands up. “Alright, we have a press conference in 30, go put on the suit in your closet.” He starts for the door, and then stops. “By the way-the new help is here.”
Stevie looks up. “New help? What?” But Fernando is already gone. He shrugs as he walks into his closet and unbuttons his shirt. He shrugs it off and kicks off his jeans as he walks through to the back of his closet. He pulls off the cover on the new suit and examines it; grey with stripes. He takes the coat off the hanger when he sees the tag. He mutters, “Idiot,” and walks out of his closet as he calls out Fernando’s name. He pulls open the door to his bedroom and he’s expecting Fernando so it’s not really his fault that the glare he sends isn’t deserved. “This is Hugo Boss, not Armani, you twat.”
The man looking back at him is definitely not Fernando. He looks at him quizzically, and swallows once before clearing his throat and speaking. “I’m sorry, sir. I just-I can go get Fernando for you. He’s just-”
Stevie laughs and stops him, gives a shake of the head. “Sorry, mate. I thought you were Nando.” He holds up his suit. “He gave me Boss when I need Armani. Sometimes I wonder how I deal with him,” he smirks.
The man offers a sympathetic smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and Stevie wonders why this man isn’t laughing along, or at least bowing down to his feet. He thinks, I’m Steven Gerrard, and who is this man? Stevie looks him up and down; the man is dressed in all black. Chic. He is quickly scrambling to get Fernando when Fernando is suddenly there, looking flustered. “Ah, Stevie. You idiot. Not that one.” He sighs and pulls Stevie back into his room towards his closet. Stevie turns his head to take a second glance at the lad, who is now retreating down the hall. Fernando sighs, exasperated, as he points to the suit that is hung near the entrance of the closet. A piece of paper is pinned to it, with sharpie written on it: WEAR THIS, STEVIE.
Stevie blushes slightly and laughs it off. He gives a wave of his hand. “Oh, that one. I-uh-I thought that was for-another day, or something…” He laughs awkwardly, and then: “Who was that kid? That lad back there? Spanish, right? He looks familiar.”
Fernando gives a soft laugh and a nod. “He’s the new help, you idiot.”
Stevie looks confused. “About that-what happened to Periko?”
Fernando sighs, closes his eyes momentarily in what could only be described as annoyance. He (finally) says softly, “Stevie. He had a heart attack last week, hombre. Get with the program.”
Stevie gapes. “What?! Why wasn’t I informed?!”
Fernando rolls his eyes. “You were. But you were probably hungover from the premier party you threw, so who knows.”
Stevie nods, feels a tad bit guilty. “I've known him a long time. Ah. He’s not…dead, right?”
“No, Stevie. He is back in San Sebastián for the time being.”
Stevie nods. “What about the rest? The chefs and such? They’re all still okay, right?”
Fernando smiles. “Yeah, they are. Don’t worry.”
*
Stevie smiles and waves at the camera, just as Fernando instructs. Giorgio Armani stands beside him. He proudly says to the press gathered up, “This is Steven Gerrard, and he is the new face of Armani!”
Stevie says a few words and is ushered off. He turns to Fernando. “So why’d you have to be there with me, huh?”
Fernando grins. “They needed at least one pretty face up there with them, didn’t they?”
*
Villa pulls into the driveway. He glides out of the Benz and opens the back door for Stevie, who gives the car a hard kiss. Villa rolls his eyes as he heads to the garage and walks through the backdoor into the kitchen. Xabi watches Stevie from the window and snorts. He moves back into the kitchen and pulls up a stool next to Pepe. “I don’t understand how my father could work under this man and his family for so long.”
Sergio laughs and wraps an arm around Xabi, one hand waving a knife around. “He’s not so bad, Xabi. He can be nice-once you put aside all that fancy crap that we can never afford, and all.”
He gives Xabi a crooked smile and Xabi can only return it because the doorbell rings. He gapes at the men sitting around him. “He doesn’t open his own doors?”
Villa gives him a push. “If he doesn’t drive his own cars, do you really think he’d open his own doors? Now go.” He gives him a stern look momentarily, and if anyone could get anyone to do something, it would be David Villa.
Xabi groans and stands up, straightens himself. A few catcalls escape Sergio’s mouth and Xabi glares at him before walking out and heading towards the door. (He hears Pepe laugh and say, “What did he think a butler does?”)
Xabi opens the door and bows slightly. Stevie grins and pats his head. “Thank you for keeping me waiting for so long.” Xabi looks up and apologizes profusely. Stevie smiles at him and gives a wave of his hand. “All is forgiven.”
He begins to walk off and Xabi mutters under his breath, “Cabrón.”
Stevie turns around. “What?” He pretends not to have heard, a smile plays at his lips.
“Nothing, sir,” he answers and drops his head.
Stevie walks off. To the library, perhaps. And Xabi heads back to the kitchen. Sergio bursts out in laughter. “Even I could hear you, you fucking idiot.”
Pepe looks at him slyly. “You know him from before though, right?”
Xabi looks down at his hands. He mumbles, “What?”
Pepe nods. “Yeah, your dad has been working for his family for the past-what?-25 years?”
He shrugs in reply, nonplussed. “Yeah. Yeah, I knew him when we were kids. I don’t think he remembers me.”
Pepe says, "Well, you'd never see him every time you'd visit-"
He stops when Villa takes a bite from the chicken in the pot that Pepe has been working on. He jumps out of his seat and lunges towards him, but Villa is too fast for him as he rushes off towards the garage. Sergio rolls his eyes and takes his position in front of the chicken. He stares at it for a long time before he takes his knife and cuts off the sides and shapes it into a square. Pepe sighs. “I’m going to kill Villa.”
Xabi laughs as he takes the plate. “I doubt his majesty will care how his chicken is cut.” He looks down at the plate for a moment. “But maybe you should shred it up instead.”
Sergio grins and gives Xabi a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Lifesaver,” he breathes.
*
Xabi clears his throat outside of the library and knocks. He doesn’t wait for the “come in” before opening the door and walking in. He removes the books on Stevie’s desk and places the plate there. Stevie looks up at him gratefully. “Thanks, mate. I was starving.”
Xabi looks around the library for a moment, wonders if Steven Gerrard really even uses it before he nods, all business, and heads for the door. “You’re welcome, sir.”
Stevie calls out. “Stevie.”
Xabi stops and turns around. “Excuse me?”
Stevie smiles. “You can call me Stevie, no need for the ‘sir’.”
Xabi’s mouth twitches. It’s just that Steven Gerrard can be so goddamn endearing when he’s smiling like that and it’s directed at you. Christ. “I like to keep formal relationships with the people I work with, sir.”
Stevie laughs. “Alright. Fine, your choice. But that means I get to call you ‘butler’.” This time Xabi allows him a smile. He turns around to leave again, when Stevie says, “Well aren’t you going to tell me your name? Or am I seriously going to have to call you ‘butler’?”
Xabi turns around and raises an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that you don’t get your employees checked out before you hire them?”
“Well, I don’t. Fernando does all that for me.” His smile is infectious, it seems, because Xabi smiles in return (albeit having a twinge of annoyance with it). When he doesn’t reply, Stevie says, “Mate, you look really familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”
Xabi shrugs. “I’m not sure, sir.” Maybe in another life, sir, he almost says.
Stevie narrows his eyes. “Hm, well. How long have you been living in Liverpool?”
He shakes his head. “No, sir, I lived here a long time ago and then moved back to Spain.”
Stevie nods. “What brings you back here again?”
“I’m here because of my father.”
Stevie’s eyebrow rises slightly, momentarily. He composes himself but his voice betrays him in its softness. “What about your father?”
Xabi clears his throat. “He had a heart attack last week, sir.”
“Xabi?” His voice is a whisper, and if Xabi’s attention wasn’t zeroed in on Stevie, he probably wouldn’t have heard him.
Xabi looks down at the floor. “I’m only here to temporarily take his place, sir. To ensure he keeps his job.”
Stevie stands up and walks to him. His voice sounds pained. “Stop calling me ‘sir’, Xabi.”
Xabi refuses to meet his eye, looks everywhere but into his eyes. “I think I hear your chef calling me, I should go see to that, sir.” He turns around and walks out.
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 16, Xabi is 15.
Xabi is helping Rafa, the chauffer, wash his car. He looks after Xabi a lot, when his father is busy dealing with the Gerrards. He feels like a second father, in some ways. He tells Rafa to sit down, that he can do it himself, and Rafa complies. He is about to wash off the suds on the car, when another car pulls into the driveway. Stevie bounds out, a smile spread across his face. He runs to Rafa and gives a tight hug, places a sloppy kiss to his forehead and Rafa’s face scrunches up. Xabi laughs and then Stevie has his arms around Xabi. Xabi can’t help but feel. Safe. In his arms. As if everything is going to be alright. When Stevie pulls away, their faces are considerably redder than they were a few moments before. Xabi says, “So I’m guessing you got it?”
Stevie beams. He has never looked more proud or more content than at that moment. “You got that right, mate! I got me driving license!”
Rafa chuckles as he stands up and stretches. He takes the hose from Xabi’s hands and lets him go. Xabi and Stevie begin walking into the house. Arsene, the chef, greets Stevie with a bow and a pet to the head for Xabi. Xabi turns to Stevie. “So will your father even let you drive?”
Stevie shrugs. “I don’t want to have to rely on Rafa driving me around anymore. I can drive! I should be able to!”
Xabi shrugs. “Yeah, sure. If your father lets…”
Stevie gives him a cross look. “Stop trying to kill the moment, Xabi.”
He laughs. “I’m not! I’m just saying.” A pause. “Listen, Stevie, I have something I need to tell you.”
Stevie opens his mouth to say something, when Periko walks into the kitchen with a groupload of boys behind him. Stevie’s friends. Stevie rushes off, jumping on their backs as he relates the good news. He leaves Xabi without a second glance and Xabi stands there awkwardly as Arsene gives him a sympathetic look.)
*
“He is so. Fucking. Annoying,” Xabi fumes.
Villa smirks as he rummages through the pantry. “Welcome to my world. Everyone else is like, in love with him or something. I mean, Jesus Christ, I don’t get why Pepe likes him so much.”
Pepe slaps the back of their heads. He laughs. “Because he loves me too, that’s why.”
Villa turns to glare at him. “Are you saying he doesn’t love me?”
Pepe smirks. “Because everyone loves you, right?” He pauses, peering closer into his face. “Am I right?”
“Jerk.” Villa grabs a chocolate bar as he heads to the small assortment of rooms in the cottage just outside of the kitchen. “If the boss needs a ride or something, wake me. If not, shut the fuck up.”
Pepe rolls his eyes as Villa exits and nudges Xabi. “So what’d he do? Stevie, I mean.”
Xabi sighs. “Looks like he remembers me…”
Pepe laughs. “After all that trouble you would go through when you’d come to visit your dad just to avoid him.” He sighs dramatically. “What a waste.”
Xabi glares. “I wouldn’t go to so much trouble. I just didn’t want it to be awkward.”
Sergio looks amused, suddenly interested in the bickering. “Now, hold up. I came here 5 years ago, and ever since then, every time you’ve visited your dad, if Stevie was anywhere in sight-you’d practically run away.”
Xabi’s face burns. “We knew each other when we were-what?-like 6?” He pauses, clearing his throat. “Or, you know. 16? That is nearly 14 years ago. The only reason I even remember his face is because I’ve been seeing it on the news ever since.”
Sergio nods, considering him. “Yeah, you’ve changed your look a lot over the years. One minute you don’t have a beard, the next minute you do. I just hope you don’t use me as your next inspiration and start growing out your hair, because that would be-”
“Scary,” Pepe finishes.
Xabi throws a banana at him. The doorbell rings and he gets up to get it. It’s Fernando. And although he’s pretty good friends with the rest of Stevie’s employees (due to his father), Fernando is someone that Xabi never met until a few days ago when he requested to take over for his father to ensure that no one would try to permanently take his father’s job. He has heard a lot about Fernando though, that’s for sure. He’s been working as Stevie’s manager for the past 6 years.
Fernando holds out a hand to him. “Xabi, right? I don’t believe we’ve been formally acquainted yet.”
Xabi smiles and shakes his hand. “Sí. Fernando, is it?”
“That’s me,” Fernando grins. “Where’s Stevie?”
Xabi keeps his smile and attempts not to roll his eyes at the mention of Stevie. “He’s in the library. Would you like me to take you to him?”
Fernando waves it off. “I was hoping you could take me to the kitchen first, I’m starving.”
Xabi nods and leads him to the kitchen. Pepe and Sergio are laughing hysterically, and it looks as if Sergio is trying to harass Pepe with the way he has him pushed up against the counter. Xabi clears his throat as he glances at Fernando. He can’t tell if he looks amused or bemused.
Pepe straightens immediately when he sees them, but Sergio (who has his back turned) continues to laugh and gives Pepe a push. He says as he turns around, “Come on, it’s just Xab-” He stops. His eyes widen and he straightens as well, mimicking Pepe’s position. He reddens considerably and stares at the floor. “Mr. Torres, I.” He stammers. “I didn’t know you were there. We were just.” He holds up a carrot. Fernando raises an eyebrow and Sergio turns even redder, if possible. He says helplessly, “I was trying to feed him.”
Fernando’s agitation seems to be lifted considerably and he laughs softly. “Alright. Well. I was wondering if you lot could fix me up some lunch?” Pepe nods and Fernando turns to Xabi. “I’ll be in the library with Stevie when it’s ready.”
When Fernando leaves, Xabi lets out a loud laugh. “I have never-in all the years that I’ve known you-seen you react to anyone like that.”
Sergio glares at him. He finally sighs. “I’m such a loser.”
“Well-you are a chef…”
Pepe and Sergio both shout in their protests and Xabi holds up his hands in defeat. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Just get his food ready already.”
*
Fernando drapes himself across Stevie’s couch. “What are you up to?”
Stevie looks up. “Just getting some reading in.”
Fernando raises an eyebrow. “Really? What about your hot boyfriend? When’s he coming over?”
Stevie grins. “Should be here any minute, actually.”
Fernando smirks as he gets up and walks over to Steven. He rubs the back of his neck for a few moments before swooping down and giving him a soft kiss. Stevie hums against his lips and Fernando whispers, “You look so sexy right now, reading and all.”
“I thought I look sexy all the time,” Stevie grins and pulls him into his lap.
Fernando laughs. “You’re right. All the time.” The door opens and Fernando turns towards it with a smile. “Ah, finally. I’m starving!”
Xabi stands rooted to his spot. His face is the epitome of calm and collected, but Stevie can tell by the way he is staring at them that he is shocked. Suddenly Xabi remembers what he is there for and walks in. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock. I didn’t-I wasn’t expecting-”
Stevie stops him. “It’s alright, mate.”
Xabi nods, growing increasingly embarrassed and his legs can’t seem to work because they’re not moving and he’s silently telling himself to “get out of here” as fast as possible, yet. Yet he clears his throat and asks, “Will that be all, sir?”
Stevie isn’t looking at him, he is staring at the floor and wishing that Fernando would get off him but Fernando just smiles at Xabi and nods. “My compliments to the chef,” he says as Xabi turns to leave.
*
“They’re together?!” he asks, incredulous while Sergio prepares the dinner. Pepe and Villa had gone out a few moments ago to buy some groceries so it was just the two of them in the kitchen. Sergio nods with a shrug. Xabi can tell that he isn’t telling him something, but he isn’t sure what so he gives him a look. “I thought-I was sure Fernando liked you…”
Sergio’s head snaps up. “Well, he doesn’t.”
Xabi looks surprised at the mild outburst and holds up his hands. “I’m sorry, I was just saying.”
“Yeah, well. Don’t.” He looks around the room to make sure no one is around. “If Stevie hears you saying something like that, I’ll be fired. Okay?”
Xabi watches him. He notices the look in his eyes; Sergio just looks. Tired. He wonders how he didn’t notice it before, because now it seems as if it should be apparent to anyone. “Is everything alright?”
Sergio stops chopping the carrots he has been working on momentarily. He stares out of the window for what feels like hours before he says, “Everything is fine, Xabi.” And then: “You should get back to work.”
*
Later, after dinner and everyone has gone to their sleeping quarters, Xabi sits outside in the cold and the chilly air. He pulls out a cigarette and looks around the place for a moment, thinks about Stevie.
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 11, Xabi is 10.
They are playing football.
When Xabi steals the ball from under his feet, Stevie sits on the floor and crosses his arms. “I wish my mates were here to play with. I’d rather play with them.”
Xabi looks confused. “Aren’t I your friend?”
Stevie gives him a dirty look. “My father says you’re not.”)
Xabi is pulled out of his reverie when he hears someone say, “You should really quit that. Smoking is a bad habit.” He looks up and sees Stevie standing before him. “Mind if I take a seat?”
Xabi gestures that he may and answers Stevie’s first statement, “What’s it to you?”
Stevie shrugs. “Nothing.” And then, a question: “When did you start?”
“Sometime during college.”
Stevie smiles. “So you went after all.”
Xabi nods. “Worked my way through it, but yeah. I went. Degree in business.”
Stevie nods, turns to look off into the distance. “Your dad said you went to finish your schooling in Spain.”
Xabi nods. “Yeah.”
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 16, Xabi is 15.
It is dark outside and they are trying to make their way back to the house. Xabi is laughing softly at something Stevie has said. Stevie turns to look at him, and in the night, he thinks he looks beautiful. Once they are in the kitchen, Xabi turns to Stevie to say goodnight. Maybe it is the adrenalin coursing through his veins from the match, or maybe it is the way Xabi’s hair is sticking to his forehead-whatever the reason-Stevie leans in and kisses him. Xabi stands with wide eyes for a moment before leaning in and kissing Stevie again.
The lights turn on around them, and Stevie pushes off Xabi immediately. “Get off me, you freak!”
Arsene looks stricken, and Stevie rushes out of the room. Xabi reddens and stares at the floor, unable to meet the eyes of Arsene before him. He mumbles something along the lines of “I’ll see you in the morning” and runs outside. He walks to the cottage and stands outside of his door for a moment. He takes deep breathes before he leans back against the wall and slumps to the floor, he squeezes his eyes shut. Silent sobs (of what? Embarrassment? Or heartbreak?) rack his body.
Stevie sits in his room and stares out his window. He can see Xabi from where he sits. He wants to go down there, to say, I’m sorry I am an idiot. To say, please don’t cry because of me. To say, I’m not worth it-I’m not. Instead he bites his lip until it bleeds.
They don’t speak to each other for a week, and when Stevie finally knocks on his door, Periko answers it to tell him that Xabi has gone to Spain to finish his schooling.
Xabi’s name is never brought up again.)
Stevie turns to look at him “You know, I’m sorry. About that night, I’m sorry.”
Xabi laughs softly. It sounds bitter. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It was a long time ago.”
Stevie nods and stares at him. “You look so different.”
Xabi smiles a little, nods in agreement. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah,” Stevie agrees. “Yeah.” He stands up and stretches. “I should go-Fernando-he’s waiting.”
“Of course,” he says quietly in reply.
Stevie looks at him for a few moments before walking slowly back inside.
*
Xabi pulls open the curtains in Stevie’s room. Stevie stands at the door and watches him. He says, “I have to go to a photoshoot in an hour. Mind if you clean up a bit? I can’t find me socks and I need them before I leave.”
Xabi turns around and gives a sigh as he looks around the room, at the mess Stevie (and Fernando?) have made. He mutters under his breath, “You should learn to clean up after yourself, sir,” and Stevie laughs (“I wouldn’t need you then, would I?”). Xabi makes the bed pretty easily, but when he walks into the bathroom, his eyes widen. “No,” he says aloud. He shakes his head, “No no no nononono, I refuse to, Steven Gerrard. I refuse.”
Stevie laughs and walks in behind him. “Xabi Alonso, find me my socks and I’ll be happy.”
Xabi turns and glares at him. The look in his eyes is part venomous, part aghast. “Why don’t you keep your socks in the dresser like normal people?” He turns and stalks towards his closet.
Stevie stops him. “I do, you twat. I mean my lucky socks. I need my lucky socks.”
Xabi narrows his eyes as he makes his way back to the bathroom (leaning down and picking up things here and there), moves the piles of clothes strewn across it and he drops to the floor. “Lucky socks?”
A nod. “Yeah, they’re red, with white letters written on it.”
Xabi stops his search. When he looks up at Stevie, he sees that his eyes are soft.
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 15, Xabi is 14.
It is Stevie’s birthday. The whole house is a bustling, everyone moving around trying to get something done. Arsene is working on the cake, Rafa is clearing out the driveway for the guests that will be arriving later that night, Mr. Mourinho is doing the dishes. Sir Alex, Stevie’s father’s business partner, gives Stevie the most beautiful watch he and Xabi have ever seen. They sit in Xabi’s room and stare at it. Xabi wonders how he could possibly give Stevie the gift he had gotten him after that. He wishes that Sir Alex had saved the gift for his party, wishes that Sir Alex had gotten him something considerably less expensive at least.
Stevie says, “I wonder what my dad got me.”
Xabi gives him a wide smile. “I’m sure he bought you a star or something, at least.”
Stevie grins and ruffles Xabi’s hair. A few more minutes of watching the watch (it’s now or never, he decides), and Xabi clears his throat. “I got you something small for your birthday.”
Stevie looks up from his watch, all his interest in the object seems to have dissipated, as he grins at Xabi. “Really? You shouldn’t have, Xabi. Honestly.”
Xabi looks uncomfortable. “I mean, it isn’t anything great, obviously…”
Stevie shakes his head vigorously. “I love it already.”
Xabi lets out a soft, slightly embarrassed laugh. “You haven’t even seen it yet, you daft idiot.”
Stevie smiles at him. It is the most sincere smile he has ever given anyone. “I’ll love it, Xabi. I promise I will.”
Xabi sighs and reaches under his bed to pull out a small, wrapped up item. As Stevie opens it, Xabi mutters apologies. “It’s just something small that I thought you might like-”
He stops when he sees Stevie’s face. Stevie stares at the socks in his hands for longer than he should (they are red, the letters ‘ynwa’ sewn across the bottom), before giving Xabi a look that Xabi can’t quite place at the moment. He opens his mouth to say something like “I’m sorry” or “stop looking at me like that” when Stevie nudges his shoulder slightly. He smiles. “It’s perfect.”
Stevie wears the socks to his party that night.
Xabi sits in his room and watches from the window.)
*
Fernando waits for Stevie downstairs, in the kitchen. He is watching Sergio. Sergio pours a glass of milk for Fernando and Fernando takes a hold of his hand when he places the glass down. “How’ve you been?”
Sergio grimaces and pulls his hand out of his grip. His tone is clipped. “Good, thanks.”
Fernando nods. His smile is sad. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Sergio’s head snaps up. “You’ve been fucking the boss.”
His forehead furrows in confusion. “We’ve been in a relationship for the past 4 months, it’s time you started to respect that.”
Sergio is quiet for only a moment. He stares at him and then straightens up suddenly and clears his throat. “Mr. Torres, is there anything else you would like?”
Fernando looks around and sees that Pepe has come into the kitchen. He sighs. He looks at Sergio for what feels like forever before he says sternly, “Yes, chef, please come with me. I have a question about one of the fruits in the basket in the other room.”
Pepe smiles. “I could tell you what those are, Fernando. I bought them, after all.”
Sergio nods. “Yes, he-”
“Mr. Ramos, will you please come with me?” He nearly barks.
Sergio sighs and walks behind him like a puppy. Pepe chuckles behind him and Sergio swivels around to glare at him. He follows Fernando out of the kitchen and into the parlor. “Okay. What is it?”
Fernando frowns. “I don’t get why we had to suddenly stop being friends.”
A soft sigh. “You’re the one who forgot we were friends once you got with Stevie.”
“I didn’t,” Fernando says quietly. “I’m just busier now.”
Sergio opens his mouth to say something when he hears Stevie come down the stairs and call for Fernando. Fernando says, “We’re not finished here,” before he leaves.
*
Stevie presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Are we done yet?”
He turns to Fernando, who is reading a magazine on the couch assembled in the room. He glances up and gives him a nonchalant shrug and an easy smile. “How am I supposed to know?”
Stevie glares. “You’re my fucking manager, can you please go ask your friends if we need any more shots or not?”
Fernando furrows his eyebrows. He walks over to him and places a hand on his waist to draw him near. “Is something wrong, Stevie?”
Stevie’s sigh is aggravated. He pushes Fernando away and paces. “I’m tired, Fernando. I’ve been here since 3 pm and now it’s 10. Can you please go see if we’re finished?”
He looks hurt at Stevie’s reaction and his expression shows it. (He wants to say, well I’ve been here since 3 too, Stevie.) He nods quietly and walks off to the other end of the room, where two men are discussing what they have done for the day. When he comes back, his voice is icy. “They say you can leave now; they have everything they want.”
Stevie nods, moves to the back to change his clothes. He shouts over his shoulders, “Make sure Villa is ready to leave by the time I get outside.”
*
The next morning, Stevie lays in his bed well past 1 pm. Xabi creeps into his room, if only to make sure that he is still breathing. He walks over and stands there for a few moments longer than he should considering the fact that Stevie’s snoring should give away the fact that he’s alive. He likes how Stevie looks when he’s sleeping; it reminds him of what he used to be, of the life they used to live. Before Stevie was a hotshot movie star and everything was. Different. There is slight movement and Xabi asks, “Are you awake?”
Stevie’s snores don’t cease, and then: “No.”
Xabi smirks. “I knew you didn’t snore.”
Stevie grins as he peers up from his pillow, his hair a mess with bags under his eyes. “I knew the snoring was a bit much.”
Xabi looks at his watch. “Shouldn’t you be getting out of bed soon?”
Stevie buries his head under his pillows. “No. And if anyone comes looking for me, tell them I’m asleep and do not wish to be disturbed.”
“Even Fernando?” There is an edge to his voice, he wonders if Stevie notices.
(Of course he does.) “Yes. Even Fernando.”
Xabi nods when he hears the doorbell ring downstairs. He raises an eyebrow slightly with a smirk. “That’s probably him.”
Stevie keeps his head under the pillow but uses his hand to wave him away. “Doesn’t change anything. But please bring my breakfast.”
“Lunch,” Xabi corrects. He goes downstairs and opens the door to see Fernando. Fernando smiles immediately and Xabi thinks that it is no wonder that Fernando has two people in love with him, with smiles like that, while Xabi has none. Fernando says, “Hello, Xabi!”
Xabi smiles a little despite himself. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Fernando walks in and moves towards the stairs. Xabi stops him. “Oh, hey, listen. Stevie’s asleep, he said not to be disturbed.”
Fernando stops, he looks slightly disappointed. “Alright. Are they in there?” He points towards the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Xabi nods and leads him in. Fernando smiles at them all, his look lingers on Sergio and Xabi notices. He turns to Sergio, “Can you make something for Stevie?”
Sergio rips his eyes away from Fernando for a moment and nods at Xabi. He pulls out this and that and this and that and starts chopping away. He starts chatting with Xabi and Pepe as if Fernando isn’t even there, but Fernando doesn’t seem to mind; he seems to be enjoying Sergio’s presence, taking him in. Xabi watches them like a hawk, whether it is because he is curious or he doesn’t want Stevie to get hurt, he’s not sure. Sergio makes Stevie chicken and a salad (although he throws together some fancy words and calls it a masterpiece). Xabi motions Pepe to help him with the food upstairs. Once they leave the kitchen, he asks, “Have they always been like this?”
Pepe snorts quietly, maybe a bit sadly. “Nah, they used to actually talk. It’s only been the past few months that it’s been like this.”
Xabi raises an eyebrow. “They used to talk?”
He laughs quietly and pats Xabi’s back. “Xabi, Fernando’s the one that got Sergio the job here.”
Xabi is incredulous. “But remember the way Sergio reacted to him that first day? Seemed like Sergio was afraid to talk to him or something.”
Pepe shakes his head. “Yeah, well. They haven’t talked in months. Fernando would only come to the kitchen if Sergio wasn’t there. It’s only been recently that he’s been starting to loiter around in there again.”
Xabi nods, and asks Pepe to put the glass of water on his tray. “I can take them from here, Pepe.” When he takes them to Stevie’s room, Stevie is sitting up on his bed and staring out the window. He clears his throat and Stevie turns to him. “Your lunch, sir.”
Stevie smiles softly. “You really going to keep calling me that?”
Xabi gives him a lopsided grin. “Yes, sir.”
He turns to leave when Stevie calls out. “Aren’t you going to keep me company?”
Xabi rolls his eyes but continues walking. “No, sir.”
“Come on, Alonso. For old time’s sake.”
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 8, Xabi is 7.
Stevie’s parents are away on a business trip. He sits at his dinner table with the plate of food that Arsene has brought him. He is alone. Everyone else (Arsene, Rafa, Mr. Mourinho, Periko, Xabi) sit around the kitchen and nibble at things here and there as they chat. They are all waiting around for Steven to finish his meal, so they could get around to cleaning up and calling it a night. When Stevie calls for Periko to bring him a glass of water, he starts telling him story after story after story to keep him there. When he finishes his last story, Periko excuses himself back to the kitchen. It is nearing 8 pm and he has to just begin cleaning up, no time to go play football with Xabi like he promised to. Xabi marches over to Steven and his eyes are filled with tears. “Why did you have to keep my father in there with you the whole time?”
Stevie looks down at his hands. “’m sorry, Xabi. I just-” A pause. His voice softens. “I hate being alone.”
Xabi looks confused. “You could have just asked me, Stevie.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to.”
Xabi grins, his earlier tears subsiding as he flashes Stevie smile in the way only children can forget previous worries. “I always want to.”)
Xabi walks slowly back towards him and sits down. Stevie smiles at him. Xabi looks around the room. “So,” he starts.
Stevie takes little bites from his chicken, seemingly more interested in Xabi. “Did you ever see any of my movies?”
“No,” Xabi looks down at his hands.
Stevie looks up, alarmed. His face is crushed. “Oh.” He says, “Okay.” He hates the way the hurt in his voice is evident and silently curses himself. He clears his throat.
Xabi nudges his arm. “Maybe we can watch together sometime, yeah?”
Stevie grins. He finishes his food and turns to the window. “I think I want to go for a swim.”
Xabi quirks an eyebrow. “Why you got a pool in the first place, I have no idea.”
Stevie laughs. “Mind if you get me stuff ready downstairs, mate?”
Xabi nods and stands up, heads downstairs and gets a towel ready. Stevie walks through the front door to go around to the back instead of through the kitchen so as not to see Fernando. Fernando sees him anyway, through the window, getting into the pool and walks out, leaving Sergio mid-sentence in describing how to make the soufflé he has been working on. Xabi steps aside as Fernando walks past him and sits at the edge of the pool. Stevie looks up at him from where is dipped in the pool. “What is it?” he asks.
Fernando smiles timidly. “I’ve got good news.”
“Like what?” Stevie seems mildly interested.
Fernando beams. “Scorsese wants you to star in his new film with DiCaprio.”
Stevie stares for a moment, before he whoops loudly and swims closer to where Fernando is. He pulls Fernando down for a deep kiss, before completely pulling him into the water. They burst into laughter before Fernando splashes water at him and calls him a bastard.
Xabi drops his gaze to the floor before turning around and making his way back into the house. In the kitchen, Sergio has his hands covered in flour, but he is staring out the window at the scene in the backyard. (Stevie has now pulled off Fernando’s t-shirt.) The expression on his face could have broken Xabi’s heart, he thinks, if it wasn’t breaking on its own. When Sergio sees him standing there, he looks away from the window and starts beating the mixture he had been working so quickly that Xabi fears it’ll liquidize. Xabi walks over and says, “Aren’t you supposed to be mixing that slowly?”
Sergio snaps. “How would you know?”
Xabi shrugs as he turns to stare out the window, watches as Stevie and Fernando laugh about something. They look so intimate out there that it feels as if he is imposing, watching them like he is. He says distractedly, “I used to know this French chef. He taught me a few things.”
Except Sergio has stopped whipping, he is taking turns watching Xabi and the scene outside the window. “It’s not worth watching, you know.”
Xabi turns to look at him. “What?”
Sergio nods to the two in the pool. “Them. It’s not worth getting your heart broken over, Xabi.”
Xabi eyes him. “Ever thought about listening to your own advice?” Sergio laughs breathlessly, brokenly. He shrugs. Xabi says, “So what’s the deal with you and Fernando?”
Sergio sighs, cracks an egg and puts it into the bowl. He starts whipping again, slower this time. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Xabi gives him a prodding look and Sergio can feel it, despite not meeting his eyes, so he continues. “We’ve been friends a long time. Met him in my freshman year of university when I came to Liverpool. He was my first friend here, you know?” Xabi nods to show that he’s listening and Sergio goes on. “Yeah, well. Basically, he got me a job here so we could work together.”
“So what happened?”
Sergio breathes a laugh. Xabi can hear the bitterness in it. “I fell in love with him.”
Xabi furrows his eyebrows. “And Fernando?”
Sergio looks up from the mixture he has been working on to stare out the window at Fernando and Stevie. “He fell in love with Stevie.”
part two.
rating: r, AT MOST.
pairings: steven gerrard/xabi alonso, fernando torres/sergio ramos, SLIGHT implied david villa/david silva.
other characters: pepe reina, periko alonso, arsene wenger, jamie carragher, dirk kuyt, rafa benitez, yolanda ruiz.
word count: 18,768.
disclaimer: i'm lying.
summary: stevie is a famous movie star. fernando is his manager. sergio and pepe are stevie's personal chefs, villa is his chauffer. xabi is the replacement for his butler, periko.
warning: there is a character death.
notes: this is completely and entirely and absolutely for slobberingboo who would literally FORCE me to write ahhaahahahahhaahhahahahhahahhahahahahahahahahhhaha. she also beta'd and gave feedback and is perrrrrfect, you guys haha she is my best friend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ALSO, about the fic, well. so i didn't write it in one sitting or anything haahhahahahlksdjfalf, which is why i like. so i'd forget what i had previously written????? HAHAHAHAHHA i don't know if it showed through. slobberingboo didn't say anything so i hope not?? and by the end i was just like, I NEED TO FINISH THIS so haahhaah THERE YOU GO. ALSO!!!!!!! i'm sorry if i wrote anything factually incorrect?????? i don't have much (if anything???) in it that is factual i think, so...hahhahaha. hmm.
title taken from i carry your heart with me by ee cummings.
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
Stevie stares out the window, watches the deep blue water of his pool as if lost in a trance. Maybe he is thinking back to a time in his childhood, maybe he is thinking about-
“Where’s my favorite movie star?” Fernando sing-songs, interrupting his thoughts. Stevie turns around and smiles at him, gives him a quiet nod. Fernando beams and sits down on the couch in the room. He puts his legs up on the coffee table, and pats the seat beside him.
Stevie laughs and shakes his head. “I’m good here, mate.” Fernando is wearing a new Armani, Stevie notes. “I’m guessing you’ve got good news. Considering your new suit, and all.”
Fernando’s smile widens. “Your movie is number one in the charts from opening weekend.” Fernando takes a deep breath, adding in: “And-Armani wants to endorse you.”
Stevie laughs. “Fucking finally! I’ve wanted that endorsement for months now.”
Fernando grins. “I know! Don’t you love your perfect manager for getting you it?”
He wiggles his eyebrows, and Stevie rolls his eyes in reply. “Yeah, sure.”
Fernando snorts. “Ungrateful, you are.” He stands up. “Alright, we have a press conference in 30, go put on the suit in your closet.” He starts for the door, and then stops. “By the way-the new help is here.”
Stevie looks up. “New help? What?” But Fernando is already gone. He shrugs as he walks into his closet and unbuttons his shirt. He shrugs it off and kicks off his jeans as he walks through to the back of his closet. He pulls off the cover on the new suit and examines it; grey with stripes. He takes the coat off the hanger when he sees the tag. He mutters, “Idiot,” and walks out of his closet as he calls out Fernando’s name. He pulls open the door to his bedroom and he’s expecting Fernando so it’s not really his fault that the glare he sends isn’t deserved. “This is Hugo Boss, not Armani, you twat.”
The man looking back at him is definitely not Fernando. He looks at him quizzically, and swallows once before clearing his throat and speaking. “I’m sorry, sir. I just-I can go get Fernando for you. He’s just-”
Stevie laughs and stops him, gives a shake of the head. “Sorry, mate. I thought you were Nando.” He holds up his suit. “He gave me Boss when I need Armani. Sometimes I wonder how I deal with him,” he smirks.
The man offers a sympathetic smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and Stevie wonders why this man isn’t laughing along, or at least bowing down to his feet. He thinks, I’m Steven Gerrard, and who is this man? Stevie looks him up and down; the man is dressed in all black. Chic. He is quickly scrambling to get Fernando when Fernando is suddenly there, looking flustered. “Ah, Stevie. You idiot. Not that one.” He sighs and pulls Stevie back into his room towards his closet. Stevie turns his head to take a second glance at the lad, who is now retreating down the hall. Fernando sighs, exasperated, as he points to the suit that is hung near the entrance of the closet. A piece of paper is pinned to it, with sharpie written on it: WEAR THIS, STEVIE.
Stevie blushes slightly and laughs it off. He gives a wave of his hand. “Oh, that one. I-uh-I thought that was for-another day, or something…” He laughs awkwardly, and then: “Who was that kid? That lad back there? Spanish, right? He looks familiar.”
Fernando gives a soft laugh and a nod. “He’s the new help, you idiot.”
Stevie looks confused. “About that-what happened to Periko?”
Fernando sighs, closes his eyes momentarily in what could only be described as annoyance. He (finally) says softly, “Stevie. He had a heart attack last week, hombre. Get with the program.”
Stevie gapes. “What?! Why wasn’t I informed?!”
Fernando rolls his eyes. “You were. But you were probably hungover from the premier party you threw, so who knows.”
Stevie nods, feels a tad bit guilty. “I've known him a long time. Ah. He’s not…dead, right?”
“No, Stevie. He is back in San Sebastián for the time being.”
Stevie nods. “What about the rest? The chefs and such? They’re all still okay, right?”
Fernando smiles. “Yeah, they are. Don’t worry.”
*
Stevie smiles and waves at the camera, just as Fernando instructs. Giorgio Armani stands beside him. He proudly says to the press gathered up, “This is Steven Gerrard, and he is the new face of Armani!”
Stevie says a few words and is ushered off. He turns to Fernando. “So why’d you have to be there with me, huh?”
Fernando grins. “They needed at least one pretty face up there with them, didn’t they?”
*
Villa pulls into the driveway. He glides out of the Benz and opens the back door for Stevie, who gives the car a hard kiss. Villa rolls his eyes as he heads to the garage and walks through the backdoor into the kitchen. Xabi watches Stevie from the window and snorts. He moves back into the kitchen and pulls up a stool next to Pepe. “I don’t understand how my father could work under this man and his family for so long.”
Sergio laughs and wraps an arm around Xabi, one hand waving a knife around. “He’s not so bad, Xabi. He can be nice-once you put aside all that fancy crap that we can never afford, and all.”
He gives Xabi a crooked smile and Xabi can only return it because the doorbell rings. He gapes at the men sitting around him. “He doesn’t open his own doors?”
Villa gives him a push. “If he doesn’t drive his own cars, do you really think he’d open his own doors? Now go.” He gives him a stern look momentarily, and if anyone could get anyone to do something, it would be David Villa.
Xabi groans and stands up, straightens himself. A few catcalls escape Sergio’s mouth and Xabi glares at him before walking out and heading towards the door. (He hears Pepe laugh and say, “What did he think a butler does?”)
Xabi opens the door and bows slightly. Stevie grins and pats his head. “Thank you for keeping me waiting for so long.” Xabi looks up and apologizes profusely. Stevie smiles at him and gives a wave of his hand. “All is forgiven.”
He begins to walk off and Xabi mutters under his breath, “Cabrón.”
Stevie turns around. “What?” He pretends not to have heard, a smile plays at his lips.
“Nothing, sir,” he answers and drops his head.
Stevie walks off. To the library, perhaps. And Xabi heads back to the kitchen. Sergio bursts out in laughter. “Even I could hear you, you fucking idiot.”
Pepe looks at him slyly. “You know him from before though, right?”
Xabi looks down at his hands. He mumbles, “What?”
Pepe nods. “Yeah, your dad has been working for his family for the past-what?-25 years?”
He shrugs in reply, nonplussed. “Yeah. Yeah, I knew him when we were kids. I don’t think he remembers me.”
Pepe says, "Well, you'd never see him every time you'd visit-"
He stops when Villa takes a bite from the chicken in the pot that Pepe has been working on. He jumps out of his seat and lunges towards him, but Villa is too fast for him as he rushes off towards the garage. Sergio rolls his eyes and takes his position in front of the chicken. He stares at it for a long time before he takes his knife and cuts off the sides and shapes it into a square. Pepe sighs. “I’m going to kill Villa.”
Xabi laughs as he takes the plate. “I doubt his majesty will care how his chicken is cut.” He looks down at the plate for a moment. “But maybe you should shred it up instead.”
Sergio grins and gives Xabi a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Lifesaver,” he breathes.
*
Xabi clears his throat outside of the library and knocks. He doesn’t wait for the “come in” before opening the door and walking in. He removes the books on Stevie’s desk and places the plate there. Stevie looks up at him gratefully. “Thanks, mate. I was starving.”
Xabi looks around the library for a moment, wonders if Steven Gerrard really even uses it before he nods, all business, and heads for the door. “You’re welcome, sir.”
Stevie calls out. “Stevie.”
Xabi stops and turns around. “Excuse me?”
Stevie smiles. “You can call me Stevie, no need for the ‘sir’.”
Xabi’s mouth twitches. It’s just that Steven Gerrard can be so goddamn endearing when he’s smiling like that and it’s directed at you. Christ. “I like to keep formal relationships with the people I work with, sir.”
Stevie laughs. “Alright. Fine, your choice. But that means I get to call you ‘butler’.” This time Xabi allows him a smile. He turns around to leave again, when Stevie says, “Well aren’t you going to tell me your name? Or am I seriously going to have to call you ‘butler’?”
Xabi turns around and raises an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that you don’t get your employees checked out before you hire them?”
“Well, I don’t. Fernando does all that for me.” His smile is infectious, it seems, because Xabi smiles in return (albeit having a twinge of annoyance with it). When he doesn’t reply, Stevie says, “Mate, you look really familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”
Xabi shrugs. “I’m not sure, sir.” Maybe in another life, sir, he almost says.
Stevie narrows his eyes. “Hm, well. How long have you been living in Liverpool?”
He shakes his head. “No, sir, I lived here a long time ago and then moved back to Spain.”
Stevie nods. “What brings you back here again?”
“I’m here because of my father.”
Stevie’s eyebrow rises slightly, momentarily. He composes himself but his voice betrays him in its softness. “What about your father?”
Xabi clears his throat. “He had a heart attack last week, sir.”
“Xabi?” His voice is a whisper, and if Xabi’s attention wasn’t zeroed in on Stevie, he probably wouldn’t have heard him.
Xabi looks down at the floor. “I’m only here to temporarily take his place, sir. To ensure he keeps his job.”
Stevie stands up and walks to him. His voice sounds pained. “Stop calling me ‘sir’, Xabi.”
Xabi refuses to meet his eye, looks everywhere but into his eyes. “I think I hear your chef calling me, I should go see to that, sir.” He turns around and walks out.
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 16, Xabi is 15.
Xabi is helping Rafa, the chauffer, wash his car. He looks after Xabi a lot, when his father is busy dealing with the Gerrards. He feels like a second father, in some ways. He tells Rafa to sit down, that he can do it himself, and Rafa complies. He is about to wash off the suds on the car, when another car pulls into the driveway. Stevie bounds out, a smile spread across his face. He runs to Rafa and gives a tight hug, places a sloppy kiss to his forehead and Rafa’s face scrunches up. Xabi laughs and then Stevie has his arms around Xabi. Xabi can’t help but feel. Safe. In his arms. As if everything is going to be alright. When Stevie pulls away, their faces are considerably redder than they were a few moments before. Xabi says, “So I’m guessing you got it?”
Stevie beams. He has never looked more proud or more content than at that moment. “You got that right, mate! I got me driving license!”
Rafa chuckles as he stands up and stretches. He takes the hose from Xabi’s hands and lets him go. Xabi and Stevie begin walking into the house. Arsene, the chef, greets Stevie with a bow and a pet to the head for Xabi. Xabi turns to Stevie. “So will your father even let you drive?”
Stevie shrugs. “I don’t want to have to rely on Rafa driving me around anymore. I can drive! I should be able to!”
Xabi shrugs. “Yeah, sure. If your father lets…”
Stevie gives him a cross look. “Stop trying to kill the moment, Xabi.”
He laughs. “I’m not! I’m just saying.” A pause. “Listen, Stevie, I have something I need to tell you.”
Stevie opens his mouth to say something, when Periko walks into the kitchen with a groupload of boys behind him. Stevie’s friends. Stevie rushes off, jumping on their backs as he relates the good news. He leaves Xabi without a second glance and Xabi stands there awkwardly as Arsene gives him a sympathetic look.)
*
“He is so. Fucking. Annoying,” Xabi fumes.
Villa smirks as he rummages through the pantry. “Welcome to my world. Everyone else is like, in love with him or something. I mean, Jesus Christ, I don’t get why Pepe likes him so much.”
Pepe slaps the back of their heads. He laughs. “Because he loves me too, that’s why.”
Villa turns to glare at him. “Are you saying he doesn’t love me?”
Pepe smirks. “Because everyone loves you, right?” He pauses, peering closer into his face. “Am I right?”
“Jerk.” Villa grabs a chocolate bar as he heads to the small assortment of rooms in the cottage just outside of the kitchen. “If the boss needs a ride or something, wake me. If not, shut the fuck up.”
Pepe rolls his eyes as Villa exits and nudges Xabi. “So what’d he do? Stevie, I mean.”
Xabi sighs. “Looks like he remembers me…”
Pepe laughs. “After all that trouble you would go through when you’d come to visit your dad just to avoid him.” He sighs dramatically. “What a waste.”
Xabi glares. “I wouldn’t go to so much trouble. I just didn’t want it to be awkward.”
Sergio looks amused, suddenly interested in the bickering. “Now, hold up. I came here 5 years ago, and ever since then, every time you’ve visited your dad, if Stevie was anywhere in sight-you’d practically run away.”
Xabi’s face burns. “We knew each other when we were-what?-like 6?” He pauses, clearing his throat. “Or, you know. 16? That is nearly 14 years ago. The only reason I even remember his face is because I’ve been seeing it on the news ever since.”
Sergio nods, considering him. “Yeah, you’ve changed your look a lot over the years. One minute you don’t have a beard, the next minute you do. I just hope you don’t use me as your next inspiration and start growing out your hair, because that would be-”
“Scary,” Pepe finishes.
Xabi throws a banana at him. The doorbell rings and he gets up to get it. It’s Fernando. And although he’s pretty good friends with the rest of Stevie’s employees (due to his father), Fernando is someone that Xabi never met until a few days ago when he requested to take over for his father to ensure that no one would try to permanently take his father’s job. He has heard a lot about Fernando though, that’s for sure. He’s been working as Stevie’s manager for the past 6 years.
Fernando holds out a hand to him. “Xabi, right? I don’t believe we’ve been formally acquainted yet.”
Xabi smiles and shakes his hand. “Sí. Fernando, is it?”
“That’s me,” Fernando grins. “Where’s Stevie?”
Xabi keeps his smile and attempts not to roll his eyes at the mention of Stevie. “He’s in the library. Would you like me to take you to him?”
Fernando waves it off. “I was hoping you could take me to the kitchen first, I’m starving.”
Xabi nods and leads him to the kitchen. Pepe and Sergio are laughing hysterically, and it looks as if Sergio is trying to harass Pepe with the way he has him pushed up against the counter. Xabi clears his throat as he glances at Fernando. He can’t tell if he looks amused or bemused.
Pepe straightens immediately when he sees them, but Sergio (who has his back turned) continues to laugh and gives Pepe a push. He says as he turns around, “Come on, it’s just Xab-” He stops. His eyes widen and he straightens as well, mimicking Pepe’s position. He reddens considerably and stares at the floor. “Mr. Torres, I.” He stammers. “I didn’t know you were there. We were just.” He holds up a carrot. Fernando raises an eyebrow and Sergio turns even redder, if possible. He says helplessly, “I was trying to feed him.”
Fernando’s agitation seems to be lifted considerably and he laughs softly. “Alright. Well. I was wondering if you lot could fix me up some lunch?” Pepe nods and Fernando turns to Xabi. “I’ll be in the library with Stevie when it’s ready.”
When Fernando leaves, Xabi lets out a loud laugh. “I have never-in all the years that I’ve known you-seen you react to anyone like that.”
Sergio glares at him. He finally sighs. “I’m such a loser.”
“Well-you are a chef…”
Pepe and Sergio both shout in their protests and Xabi holds up his hands in defeat. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Just get his food ready already.”
*
Fernando drapes himself across Stevie’s couch. “What are you up to?”
Stevie looks up. “Just getting some reading in.”
Fernando raises an eyebrow. “Really? What about your hot boyfriend? When’s he coming over?”
Stevie grins. “Should be here any minute, actually.”
Fernando smirks as he gets up and walks over to Steven. He rubs the back of his neck for a few moments before swooping down and giving him a soft kiss. Stevie hums against his lips and Fernando whispers, “You look so sexy right now, reading and all.”
“I thought I look sexy all the time,” Stevie grins and pulls him into his lap.
Fernando laughs. “You’re right. All the time.” The door opens and Fernando turns towards it with a smile. “Ah, finally. I’m starving!”
Xabi stands rooted to his spot. His face is the epitome of calm and collected, but Stevie can tell by the way he is staring at them that he is shocked. Suddenly Xabi remembers what he is there for and walks in. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock. I didn’t-I wasn’t expecting-”
Stevie stops him. “It’s alright, mate.”
Xabi nods, growing increasingly embarrassed and his legs can’t seem to work because they’re not moving and he’s silently telling himself to “get out of here” as fast as possible, yet. Yet he clears his throat and asks, “Will that be all, sir?”
Stevie isn’t looking at him, he is staring at the floor and wishing that Fernando would get off him but Fernando just smiles at Xabi and nods. “My compliments to the chef,” he says as Xabi turns to leave.
*
“They’re together?!” he asks, incredulous while Sergio prepares the dinner. Pepe and Villa had gone out a few moments ago to buy some groceries so it was just the two of them in the kitchen. Sergio nods with a shrug. Xabi can tell that he isn’t telling him something, but he isn’t sure what so he gives him a look. “I thought-I was sure Fernando liked you…”
Sergio’s head snaps up. “Well, he doesn’t.”
Xabi looks surprised at the mild outburst and holds up his hands. “I’m sorry, I was just saying.”
“Yeah, well. Don’t.” He looks around the room to make sure no one is around. “If Stevie hears you saying something like that, I’ll be fired. Okay?”
Xabi watches him. He notices the look in his eyes; Sergio just looks. Tired. He wonders how he didn’t notice it before, because now it seems as if it should be apparent to anyone. “Is everything alright?”
Sergio stops chopping the carrots he has been working on momentarily. He stares out of the window for what feels like hours before he says, “Everything is fine, Xabi.” And then: “You should get back to work.”
*
Later, after dinner and everyone has gone to their sleeping quarters, Xabi sits outside in the cold and the chilly air. He pulls out a cigarette and looks around the place for a moment, thinks about Stevie.
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 11, Xabi is 10.
They are playing football.
When Xabi steals the ball from under his feet, Stevie sits on the floor and crosses his arms. “I wish my mates were here to play with. I’d rather play with them.”
Xabi looks confused. “Aren’t I your friend?”
Stevie gives him a dirty look. “My father says you’re not.”)
Xabi is pulled out of his reverie when he hears someone say, “You should really quit that. Smoking is a bad habit.” He looks up and sees Stevie standing before him. “Mind if I take a seat?”
Xabi gestures that he may and answers Stevie’s first statement, “What’s it to you?”
Stevie shrugs. “Nothing.” And then, a question: “When did you start?”
“Sometime during college.”
Stevie smiles. “So you went after all.”
Xabi nods. “Worked my way through it, but yeah. I went. Degree in business.”
Stevie nods, turns to look off into the distance. “Your dad said you went to finish your schooling in Spain.”
Xabi nods. “Yeah.”
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 16, Xabi is 15.
It is dark outside and they are trying to make their way back to the house. Xabi is laughing softly at something Stevie has said. Stevie turns to look at him, and in the night, he thinks he looks beautiful. Once they are in the kitchen, Xabi turns to Stevie to say goodnight. Maybe it is the adrenalin coursing through his veins from the match, or maybe it is the way Xabi’s hair is sticking to his forehead-whatever the reason-Stevie leans in and kisses him. Xabi stands with wide eyes for a moment before leaning in and kissing Stevie again.
The lights turn on around them, and Stevie pushes off Xabi immediately. “Get off me, you freak!”
Arsene looks stricken, and Stevie rushes out of the room. Xabi reddens and stares at the floor, unable to meet the eyes of Arsene before him. He mumbles something along the lines of “I’ll see you in the morning” and runs outside. He walks to the cottage and stands outside of his door for a moment. He takes deep breathes before he leans back against the wall and slumps to the floor, he squeezes his eyes shut. Silent sobs (of what? Embarrassment? Or heartbreak?) rack his body.
Stevie sits in his room and stares out his window. He can see Xabi from where he sits. He wants to go down there, to say, I’m sorry I am an idiot. To say, please don’t cry because of me. To say, I’m not worth it-I’m not. Instead he bites his lip until it bleeds.
They don’t speak to each other for a week, and when Stevie finally knocks on his door, Periko answers it to tell him that Xabi has gone to Spain to finish his schooling.
Xabi’s name is never brought up again.)
Stevie turns to look at him “You know, I’m sorry. About that night, I’m sorry.”
Xabi laughs softly. It sounds bitter. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It was a long time ago.”
Stevie nods and stares at him. “You look so different.”
Xabi smiles a little, nods in agreement. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah,” Stevie agrees. “Yeah.” He stands up and stretches. “I should go-Fernando-he’s waiting.”
“Of course,” he says quietly in reply.
Stevie looks at him for a few moments before walking slowly back inside.
*
Xabi pulls open the curtains in Stevie’s room. Stevie stands at the door and watches him. He says, “I have to go to a photoshoot in an hour. Mind if you clean up a bit? I can’t find me socks and I need them before I leave.”
Xabi turns around and gives a sigh as he looks around the room, at the mess Stevie (and Fernando?) have made. He mutters under his breath, “You should learn to clean up after yourself, sir,” and Stevie laughs (“I wouldn’t need you then, would I?”). Xabi makes the bed pretty easily, but when he walks into the bathroom, his eyes widen. “No,” he says aloud. He shakes his head, “No no no nononono, I refuse to, Steven Gerrard. I refuse.”
Stevie laughs and walks in behind him. “Xabi Alonso, find me my socks and I’ll be happy.”
Xabi turns and glares at him. The look in his eyes is part venomous, part aghast. “Why don’t you keep your socks in the dresser like normal people?” He turns and stalks towards his closet.
Stevie stops him. “I do, you twat. I mean my lucky socks. I need my lucky socks.”
Xabi narrows his eyes as he makes his way back to the bathroom (leaning down and picking up things here and there), moves the piles of clothes strewn across it and he drops to the floor. “Lucky socks?”
A nod. “Yeah, they’re red, with white letters written on it.”
Xabi stops his search. When he looks up at Stevie, he sees that his eyes are soft.
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 15, Xabi is 14.
It is Stevie’s birthday. The whole house is a bustling, everyone moving around trying to get something done. Arsene is working on the cake, Rafa is clearing out the driveway for the guests that will be arriving later that night, Mr. Mourinho is doing the dishes. Sir Alex, Stevie’s father’s business partner, gives Stevie the most beautiful watch he and Xabi have ever seen. They sit in Xabi’s room and stare at it. Xabi wonders how he could possibly give Stevie the gift he had gotten him after that. He wishes that Sir Alex had saved the gift for his party, wishes that Sir Alex had gotten him something considerably less expensive at least.
Stevie says, “I wonder what my dad got me.”
Xabi gives him a wide smile. “I’m sure he bought you a star or something, at least.”
Stevie grins and ruffles Xabi’s hair. A few more minutes of watching the watch (it’s now or never, he decides), and Xabi clears his throat. “I got you something small for your birthday.”
Stevie looks up from his watch, all his interest in the object seems to have dissipated, as he grins at Xabi. “Really? You shouldn’t have, Xabi. Honestly.”
Xabi looks uncomfortable. “I mean, it isn’t anything great, obviously…”
Stevie shakes his head vigorously. “I love it already.”
Xabi lets out a soft, slightly embarrassed laugh. “You haven’t even seen it yet, you daft idiot.”
Stevie smiles at him. It is the most sincere smile he has ever given anyone. “I’ll love it, Xabi. I promise I will.”
Xabi sighs and reaches under his bed to pull out a small, wrapped up item. As Stevie opens it, Xabi mutters apologies. “It’s just something small that I thought you might like-”
He stops when he sees Stevie’s face. Stevie stares at the socks in his hands for longer than he should (they are red, the letters ‘ynwa’ sewn across the bottom), before giving Xabi a look that Xabi can’t quite place at the moment. He opens his mouth to say something like “I’m sorry” or “stop looking at me like that” when Stevie nudges his shoulder slightly. He smiles. “It’s perfect.”
Stevie wears the socks to his party that night.
Xabi sits in his room and watches from the window.)
*
Fernando waits for Stevie downstairs, in the kitchen. He is watching Sergio. Sergio pours a glass of milk for Fernando and Fernando takes a hold of his hand when he places the glass down. “How’ve you been?”
Sergio grimaces and pulls his hand out of his grip. His tone is clipped. “Good, thanks.”
Fernando nods. His smile is sad. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Sergio’s head snaps up. “You’ve been fucking the boss.”
His forehead furrows in confusion. “We’ve been in a relationship for the past 4 months, it’s time you started to respect that.”
Sergio is quiet for only a moment. He stares at him and then straightens up suddenly and clears his throat. “Mr. Torres, is there anything else you would like?”
Fernando looks around and sees that Pepe has come into the kitchen. He sighs. He looks at Sergio for what feels like forever before he says sternly, “Yes, chef, please come with me. I have a question about one of the fruits in the basket in the other room.”
Pepe smiles. “I could tell you what those are, Fernando. I bought them, after all.”
Sergio nods. “Yes, he-”
“Mr. Ramos, will you please come with me?” He nearly barks.
Sergio sighs and walks behind him like a puppy. Pepe chuckles behind him and Sergio swivels around to glare at him. He follows Fernando out of the kitchen and into the parlor. “Okay. What is it?”
Fernando frowns. “I don’t get why we had to suddenly stop being friends.”
A soft sigh. “You’re the one who forgot we were friends once you got with Stevie.”
“I didn’t,” Fernando says quietly. “I’m just busier now.”
Sergio opens his mouth to say something when he hears Stevie come down the stairs and call for Fernando. Fernando says, “We’re not finished here,” before he leaves.
*
Stevie presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Are we done yet?”
He turns to Fernando, who is reading a magazine on the couch assembled in the room. He glances up and gives him a nonchalant shrug and an easy smile. “How am I supposed to know?”
Stevie glares. “You’re my fucking manager, can you please go ask your friends if we need any more shots or not?”
Fernando furrows his eyebrows. He walks over to him and places a hand on his waist to draw him near. “Is something wrong, Stevie?”
Stevie’s sigh is aggravated. He pushes Fernando away and paces. “I’m tired, Fernando. I’ve been here since 3 pm and now it’s 10. Can you please go see if we’re finished?”
He looks hurt at Stevie’s reaction and his expression shows it. (He wants to say, well I’ve been here since 3 too, Stevie.) He nods quietly and walks off to the other end of the room, where two men are discussing what they have done for the day. When he comes back, his voice is icy. “They say you can leave now; they have everything they want.”
Stevie nods, moves to the back to change his clothes. He shouts over his shoulders, “Make sure Villa is ready to leave by the time I get outside.”
*
The next morning, Stevie lays in his bed well past 1 pm. Xabi creeps into his room, if only to make sure that he is still breathing. He walks over and stands there for a few moments longer than he should considering the fact that Stevie’s snoring should give away the fact that he’s alive. He likes how Stevie looks when he’s sleeping; it reminds him of what he used to be, of the life they used to live. Before Stevie was a hotshot movie star and everything was. Different. There is slight movement and Xabi asks, “Are you awake?”
Stevie’s snores don’t cease, and then: “No.”
Xabi smirks. “I knew you didn’t snore.”
Stevie grins as he peers up from his pillow, his hair a mess with bags under his eyes. “I knew the snoring was a bit much.”
Xabi looks at his watch. “Shouldn’t you be getting out of bed soon?”
Stevie buries his head under his pillows. “No. And if anyone comes looking for me, tell them I’m asleep and do not wish to be disturbed.”
“Even Fernando?” There is an edge to his voice, he wonders if Stevie notices.
(Of course he does.) “Yes. Even Fernando.”
Xabi nods when he hears the doorbell ring downstairs. He raises an eyebrow slightly with a smirk. “That’s probably him.”
Stevie keeps his head under the pillow but uses his hand to wave him away. “Doesn’t change anything. But please bring my breakfast.”
“Lunch,” Xabi corrects. He goes downstairs and opens the door to see Fernando. Fernando smiles immediately and Xabi thinks that it is no wonder that Fernando has two people in love with him, with smiles like that, while Xabi has none. Fernando says, “Hello, Xabi!”
Xabi smiles a little despite himself. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Fernando walks in and moves towards the stairs. Xabi stops him. “Oh, hey, listen. Stevie’s asleep, he said not to be disturbed.”
Fernando stops, he looks slightly disappointed. “Alright. Are they in there?” He points towards the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Xabi nods and leads him in. Fernando smiles at them all, his look lingers on Sergio and Xabi notices. He turns to Sergio, “Can you make something for Stevie?”
Sergio rips his eyes away from Fernando for a moment and nods at Xabi. He pulls out this and that and this and that and starts chopping away. He starts chatting with Xabi and Pepe as if Fernando isn’t even there, but Fernando doesn’t seem to mind; he seems to be enjoying Sergio’s presence, taking him in. Xabi watches them like a hawk, whether it is because he is curious or he doesn’t want Stevie to get hurt, he’s not sure. Sergio makes Stevie chicken and a salad (although he throws together some fancy words and calls it a masterpiece). Xabi motions Pepe to help him with the food upstairs. Once they leave the kitchen, he asks, “Have they always been like this?”
Pepe snorts quietly, maybe a bit sadly. “Nah, they used to actually talk. It’s only been the past few months that it’s been like this.”
Xabi raises an eyebrow. “They used to talk?”
He laughs quietly and pats Xabi’s back. “Xabi, Fernando’s the one that got Sergio the job here.”
Xabi is incredulous. “But remember the way Sergio reacted to him that first day? Seemed like Sergio was afraid to talk to him or something.”
Pepe shakes his head. “Yeah, well. They haven’t talked in months. Fernando would only come to the kitchen if Sergio wasn’t there. It’s only been recently that he’s been starting to loiter around in there again.”
Xabi nods, and asks Pepe to put the glass of water on his tray. “I can take them from here, Pepe.” When he takes them to Stevie’s room, Stevie is sitting up on his bed and staring out the window. He clears his throat and Stevie turns to him. “Your lunch, sir.”
Stevie smiles softly. “You really going to keep calling me that?”
Xabi gives him a lopsided grin. “Yes, sir.”
He turns to leave when Stevie calls out. “Aren’t you going to keep me company?”
Xabi rolls his eyes but continues walking. “No, sir.”
“Come on, Alonso. For old time’s sake.”
(This is a memory:
Stevie is 8, Xabi is 7.
Stevie’s parents are away on a business trip. He sits at his dinner table with the plate of food that Arsene has brought him. He is alone. Everyone else (Arsene, Rafa, Mr. Mourinho, Periko, Xabi) sit around the kitchen and nibble at things here and there as they chat. They are all waiting around for Steven to finish his meal, so they could get around to cleaning up and calling it a night. When Stevie calls for Periko to bring him a glass of water, he starts telling him story after story after story to keep him there. When he finishes his last story, Periko excuses himself back to the kitchen. It is nearing 8 pm and he has to just begin cleaning up, no time to go play football with Xabi like he promised to. Xabi marches over to Steven and his eyes are filled with tears. “Why did you have to keep my father in there with you the whole time?”
Stevie looks down at his hands. “’m sorry, Xabi. I just-” A pause. His voice softens. “I hate being alone.”
Xabi looks confused. “You could have just asked me, Stevie.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to.”
Xabi grins, his earlier tears subsiding as he flashes Stevie smile in the way only children can forget previous worries. “I always want to.”)
Xabi walks slowly back towards him and sits down. Stevie smiles at him. Xabi looks around the room. “So,” he starts.
Stevie takes little bites from his chicken, seemingly more interested in Xabi. “Did you ever see any of my movies?”
“No,” Xabi looks down at his hands.
Stevie looks up, alarmed. His face is crushed. “Oh.” He says, “Okay.” He hates the way the hurt in his voice is evident and silently curses himself. He clears his throat.
Xabi nudges his arm. “Maybe we can watch together sometime, yeah?”
Stevie grins. He finishes his food and turns to the window. “I think I want to go for a swim.”
Xabi quirks an eyebrow. “Why you got a pool in the first place, I have no idea.”
Stevie laughs. “Mind if you get me stuff ready downstairs, mate?”
Xabi nods and stands up, heads downstairs and gets a towel ready. Stevie walks through the front door to go around to the back instead of through the kitchen so as not to see Fernando. Fernando sees him anyway, through the window, getting into the pool and walks out, leaving Sergio mid-sentence in describing how to make the soufflé he has been working on. Xabi steps aside as Fernando walks past him and sits at the edge of the pool. Stevie looks up at him from where is dipped in the pool. “What is it?” he asks.
Fernando smiles timidly. “I’ve got good news.”
“Like what?” Stevie seems mildly interested.
Fernando beams. “Scorsese wants you to star in his new film with DiCaprio.”
Stevie stares for a moment, before he whoops loudly and swims closer to where Fernando is. He pulls Fernando down for a deep kiss, before completely pulling him into the water. They burst into laughter before Fernando splashes water at him and calls him a bastard.
Xabi drops his gaze to the floor before turning around and making his way back into the house. In the kitchen, Sergio has his hands covered in flour, but he is staring out the window at the scene in the backyard. (Stevie has now pulled off Fernando’s t-shirt.) The expression on his face could have broken Xabi’s heart, he thinks, if it wasn’t breaking on its own. When Sergio sees him standing there, he looks away from the window and starts beating the mixture he had been working so quickly that Xabi fears it’ll liquidize. Xabi walks over and says, “Aren’t you supposed to be mixing that slowly?”
Sergio snaps. “How would you know?”
Xabi shrugs as he turns to stare out the window, watches as Stevie and Fernando laugh about something. They look so intimate out there that it feels as if he is imposing, watching them like he is. He says distractedly, “I used to know this French chef. He taught me a few things.”
Except Sergio has stopped whipping, he is taking turns watching Xabi and the scene outside the window. “It’s not worth watching, you know.”
Xabi turns to look at him. “What?”
Sergio nods to the two in the pool. “Them. It’s not worth getting your heart broken over, Xabi.”
Xabi eyes him. “Ever thought about listening to your own advice?” Sergio laughs breathlessly, brokenly. He shrugs. Xabi says, “So what’s the deal with you and Fernando?”
Sergio sighs, cracks an egg and puts it into the bowl. He starts whipping again, slower this time. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Xabi gives him a prodding look and Sergio can feel it, despite not meeting his eyes, so he continues. “We’ve been friends a long time. Met him in my freshman year of university when I came to Liverpool. He was my first friend here, you know?” Xabi nods to show that he’s listening and Sergio goes on. “Yeah, well. Basically, he got me a job here so we could work together.”
“So what happened?”
Sergio breathes a laugh. Xabi can hear the bitterness in it. “I fell in love with him.”
Xabi furrows his eyebrows. “And Fernando?”
Sergio looks up from the mixture he has been working on to stare out the window at Fernando and Stevie. “He fell in love with Stevie.”
part two.