(no subject)
title: And then it's over
characters/pairing: Cristiano Ronaldo/Mesut Özil, mild reference to past Mesut Özil/Sergio Ramos
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
A/N: I couldn't deal. This is what happened. Cristiano while waiting for the transfer window to close.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. If they did, Mesut wouldn't be leaving.
Cristiano can’t remember the last time he went into the kitchen to do anything other than open the fridge or once in a while prepare a barbecue party. For anything else he pays people, and anyway, his mum cooks like nobody’s business. Now he’s been washing dishes for two hours. They weren’t dirty to begin with; he just took everything out of the cupboards after having reorganized spices he didn’t know he had. He wonders if he should move onto laundry next.
Cris is sleeping upstairs and Cristiano has the baby monitor switched on, trying hard to focus on his son’s even breathing instead of whatever is going on inside his own head.
His mother has left the kitchen without saying a word after he chipped the second mug. Now she’s sitting in the living room, pretending to watch TV.
A plate slips from Cristiano’s hands and shatters on the floor when the phone goes off just before midnight. He can hear through the baby monitor that Cris stirs upstairs.
“Yes,” Cristiano hears his mum say. “Of course. No, that’s alright. We were waiting.”
Any other day Cristiano would tell her off for divulging personal information like that. Even to Mesut. Especially to Mesut. But now he has to focus on making his legs move and carry him into the living room.
“I see...” she’s saying. She has her back turned to him and Cristiano can’t read her expression. “Would you like to... I see. You too, Mesut.”
She puts the phone down and doesn’t turn around immediately. Cristiano doesn’t wait. He knows her. And he knows Mesut. If it had been good news he’d have told him personally.
He goes upstairs. He looks into his son’s room through the open door. He goes into his room and undresses. He lies down and waits for sleep.
In the morning he’ll get up. Watch his mum give Cris his breakfast. Kiss his son goodbye and drive to practice. He’ll smile at the janitor who spreads all the rumours that are not true and keeps all the secrets that are. He’ll nod to Iker because he’s still their captain even on the bench. He’ll nudge Marcelo’s shoulder just for the hell of it. He’ll nod to Sergio because things are still fragile between them and they need to work on it. Sergio will nod back because Cristiano may have won Mesut in the end but they’re both losing right now and no one knows it but them.
Cristiano will smile and pass and score and do everything he does best.
And maybe Mesut will come to say goodbye. Maybe Cristiano will hug him and wish him all the best at Arsenal. Maybe he’ll ignore Mesut until it’s too late and he’s gone and there’s just silence where he was supposed to be for many years to come. Or maybe Cristiano will joke and break everything because that’s easier than admitting that he’s not going to be alright for a long time yet.
characters/pairing: Cristiano Ronaldo/Mesut Özil, mild reference to past Mesut Özil/Sergio Ramos
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
A/N: I couldn't deal. This is what happened. Cristiano while waiting for the transfer window to close.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. If they did, Mesut wouldn't be leaving.
Cristiano can’t remember the last time he went into the kitchen to do anything other than open the fridge or once in a while prepare a barbecue party. For anything else he pays people, and anyway, his mum cooks like nobody’s business. Now he’s been washing dishes for two hours. They weren’t dirty to begin with; he just took everything out of the cupboards after having reorganized spices he didn’t know he had. He wonders if he should move onto laundry next.
Cris is sleeping upstairs and Cristiano has the baby monitor switched on, trying hard to focus on his son’s even breathing instead of whatever is going on inside his own head.
His mother has left the kitchen without saying a word after he chipped the second mug. Now she’s sitting in the living room, pretending to watch TV.
A plate slips from Cristiano’s hands and shatters on the floor when the phone goes off just before midnight. He can hear through the baby monitor that Cris stirs upstairs.
“Yes,” Cristiano hears his mum say. “Of course. No, that’s alright. We were waiting.”
Any other day Cristiano would tell her off for divulging personal information like that. Even to Mesut. Especially to Mesut. But now he has to focus on making his legs move and carry him into the living room.
“I see...” she’s saying. She has her back turned to him and Cristiano can’t read her expression. “Would you like to... I see. You too, Mesut.”
She puts the phone down and doesn’t turn around immediately. Cristiano doesn’t wait. He knows her. And he knows Mesut. If it had been good news he’d have told him personally.
He goes upstairs. He looks into his son’s room through the open door. He goes into his room and undresses. He lies down and waits for sleep.
In the morning he’ll get up. Watch his mum give Cris his breakfast. Kiss his son goodbye and drive to practice. He’ll smile at the janitor who spreads all the rumours that are not true and keeps all the secrets that are. He’ll nod to Iker because he’s still their captain even on the bench. He’ll nudge Marcelo’s shoulder just for the hell of it. He’ll nod to Sergio because things are still fragile between them and they need to work on it. Sergio will nod back because Cristiano may have won Mesut in the end but they’re both losing right now and no one knows it but them.
Cristiano will smile and pass and score and do everything he does best.
And maybe Mesut will come to say goodbye. Maybe Cristiano will hug him and wish him all the best at Arsenal. Maybe he’ll ignore Mesut until it’s too late and he’s gone and there’s just silence where he was supposed to be for many years to come. Or maybe Cristiano will joke and break everything because that’s easier than admitting that he’s not going to be alright for a long time yet.