Fic: Under the Cover of Darkness pt.2 (Sernando)
TITLE: Under the Cover of Darkness [Part Two]
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Sergio goes to visit Fernando in Liverpool...
FANDOM: Spanish Football (Ramos/Torres)
STATUS: Companion Piece (2/2)
PROMPT: #090 - Home
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. This story is a work of fiction and came from the deepest darkest corner of my imagination.
FOREWORD: This came about as a result of a news piece on Con La Roja:
La Roja met up at Las Rozas starting today at noon (they had until 13h) to begin the concentración for the Lithuania and Scotland Euro 2012 qualifiers. The first ones to arrive were those from Valencia and Villarreal. The last players to arrive (after 13th) were those from Barcelona (Puyol, Piqué, Iniesta, Busquets), due to a delayed flight, and Sergio Ramos, who had no excuse since he lives in Madrid.
*~*
AUTHORS NOTE: I don’t know why, but I got ridiculously sappy writing this - how is it even possible to get sentimental over non-existent events in a non-existent couple’s past. Ridiculous!
You can read part one HERE
*~*
Part Two
Sergio flipped leisurely through the stack of CDs on his lap, taking the time to practice his English by translating the track names. The music store that Fernando had taken him to was impressive, it was chaotic and had no order what so ever, but Sergio had found the most incredible artists and soundtracks on the shelves. The result was nine new CDs to add to his collection.
“Coming up on the left is Augello’s. It’s my favourite place to eat. Incredible pizza.” Fernando hunched over the steering wheel, searching the streets in front of him for more landmarks. “The little cafe on the right makes incredible coffee.”
Sergio looked over amused, “you’re a coffee drinker now?”
“Not really, but I go in every other week at some stage to pick up the street press magazines. Coffee invariably follows.”
“Street press magazines?” Sergio repeated. “Oh geeze, I miss those days.”
“You don’t do them anymore?” Fernando asked surprised. “When I think of Madrid, all I can see is you on my doorstep with the weeks gig guide in your hand and some ridiculous idea on how to choose what to do that night.”
“Dart throwing was the best,” Sergio grinned.
“No it wasn’t,” Fernando protested, “because the one time we did do it, your aim was crap, you missed the entire music section and we ended up at that interpretive dance performance at the Teatro Pradillo.”
Comprehension dawned on Sergio’s face, “Nando, you still owe me money from that night.”
“What for?”
Sergio laughed, “Because we got tickets late, remember? So we were stuck in the back row and spent the first half taking bets on whether the dancers were wearing clothes or not. You were convinced they weren’t.”
“They weren’t,” Fernando insisted. “And you never proved that they were aside from giving me some big explanation on nude leotards.”
“Yeah, but then you dared me to sneak backstage and steal one, which I was going to, but you panicked and told me you’d just give me the twenty bucks.” Sergio held out his hand with a flourish, “pay up, please.”
Fernando rolled his eyes and took one hand off the wheel to dig out his wallet from his back pocket. He slapped a twenty into Sergio’s palm.
Sergio grinned, “thanks.” He pocketed the cash, “why did I even forget in the first place? The performance finished and I was doing some sort of victory speech...”
“With accompanying interpretive dance moves,” Fernando cut in.
“And so we left the theatre, wait no we didn’t...” Sergio trailed off before smirking slyly, “oh, well, that makes sense.”
Fernando felt his cheeks flush.
Sergio looked over, observing Fernando’s discomfort. “Sorry, is this awkward?”
Fernando shook his head, “no, I’m just... surprised how much I miss it; you and me - taking Madrid by storm, doing whatever the hell we wanted without anyone to tell us not to. They were good days.”
“Yeah, they were.”
*
“So this is my favourite place.”
Sergio looked around confused, “a golf course?”
“Don’t act so surprised, I come here a lot.”
“To...um...” Sergio wracked his brains for the right word, “uh... play? You don’t seriously play golf do you?”
Fernando grinned, “No. I come here to... I don’t know... think, relax; get away from it all.”
Sergio strolled a couple of paces away, sneakers sinking into the dewy grass. “Why? What’s so special about it?”
Fernando shrugged, scuffing lightly at the grass before squatting down, “I don’t know. I think it’s because it’s big and open like a football pitch. So it’s familiar and comfortable, but I can relax here because I’m not suffocating under the pressure that I feel when I’m at the stadium or training grounds.” Fernando paused, “it’s stupid, I guess.”
“No, it’s not. Everyone has their place; it doesn’t have to make any sense to anyone else except you.” Sergio strolled back and sat down beside Fernando, ignoring the wet grass.
They were both quiet for an age, enjoying the peace that can only be found when the rest of the world is asleep.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” Sergio murmured, “I like knowing about your life, Nando.”
“I like having you here.”
*
Sergio fell asleep on the drive back to the airport, feet on the dash and temple against the window. Fernando didn’t think he had ever felt more relaxed than at that moment, listening to the sound of Sergio’s consistent breaths intermingled with the soft music that drifted gently around the car. It took every ounce of his self control not to turn around and just drive until they ran out of road.
The airport was quiet, littered with the sporadic traveller pulling suitcases and masking yawns. Fernando found a park and pulled in smoothly, shutting of the engine before reaching out and shaking Sergio by the shoulder. “Hey, we’re here.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Sergio mumbled. He pushed himself awkwardly back into a seated position, “I feel like hell.”
“Just think how great you’ll feel after the flight,” Fernando joked opening his door and stepping out into the cool morning air. “A flight, followed up with a couple of hours of training.”
Sergio rubbed his face and yawned, “Maybe I should just stay and tell Del Bosque I got lost.”
Fernando rounded the car, “you got lost and ended up in Liverpool?”
“It’s feasible.”
“It could be,” Fernando smiled, “except that training is in Madrid.”
“True. Guess I have to go then.”
Fernando reached out and pulled Sergio into a tight hug.
“Good luck with the qualifiers,” Fernando began, “and thanks for coming. I needed it.” He paused before admitting quietly, “I needed you.”
Sergio returned the hug, one hand slipping up to brush over the soft strands of hair at the nape of Fernando’s neck. “Just... promise you won’t get injured before the next National Team call-up, okay? It’s the only time I get to see you.”
Fernando pressed his lips to Sergio’s neck, ““I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s okay. We’re okay.” Sergio loosened his grip reluctantly, “Thanks for showing me around.”
Fernando let out a breath. “You’re welcome.”
“I have to go.”
Fernando dropped his arms and took a step back, “story of our lives - one of us is always leaving.”
Sergio smiled and picked up his bag of CDs, “yeah, but that’s okay, because we always end up together eventually, right?”
*~*
THE END
*~*
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Sergio goes to visit Fernando in Liverpool...
FANDOM: Spanish Football (Ramos/Torres)
STATUS: Companion Piece (2/2)
PROMPT: #090 - Home
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. This story is a work of fiction and came from the deepest darkest corner of my imagination.
FOREWORD: This came about as a result of a news piece on Con La Roja:
La Roja met up at Las Rozas starting today at noon (they had until 13h) to begin the concentración for the Lithuania and Scotland Euro 2012 qualifiers. The first ones to arrive were those from Valencia and Villarreal. The last players to arrive (after 13th) were those from Barcelona (Puyol, Piqué, Iniesta, Busquets), due to a delayed flight, and Sergio Ramos, who had no excuse since he lives in Madrid.
*~*
AUTHORS NOTE: I don’t know why, but I got ridiculously sappy writing this - how is it even possible to get sentimental over non-existent events in a non-existent couple’s past. Ridiculous!
You can read part one HERE
*~*
Part Two
Sergio flipped leisurely through the stack of CDs on his lap, taking the time to practice his English by translating the track names. The music store that Fernando had taken him to was impressive, it was chaotic and had no order what so ever, but Sergio had found the most incredible artists and soundtracks on the shelves. The result was nine new CDs to add to his collection.
“Coming up on the left is Augello’s. It’s my favourite place to eat. Incredible pizza.” Fernando hunched over the steering wheel, searching the streets in front of him for more landmarks. “The little cafe on the right makes incredible coffee.”
Sergio looked over amused, “you’re a coffee drinker now?”
“Not really, but I go in every other week at some stage to pick up the street press magazines. Coffee invariably follows.”
“Street press magazines?” Sergio repeated. “Oh geeze, I miss those days.”
“You don’t do them anymore?” Fernando asked surprised. “When I think of Madrid, all I can see is you on my doorstep with the weeks gig guide in your hand and some ridiculous idea on how to choose what to do that night.”
“Dart throwing was the best,” Sergio grinned.
“No it wasn’t,” Fernando protested, “because the one time we did do it, your aim was crap, you missed the entire music section and we ended up at that interpretive dance performance at the Teatro Pradillo.”
Comprehension dawned on Sergio’s face, “Nando, you still owe me money from that night.”
“What for?”
Sergio laughed, “Because we got tickets late, remember? So we were stuck in the back row and spent the first half taking bets on whether the dancers were wearing clothes or not. You were convinced they weren’t.”
“They weren’t,” Fernando insisted. “And you never proved that they were aside from giving me some big explanation on nude leotards.”
“Yeah, but then you dared me to sneak backstage and steal one, which I was going to, but you panicked and told me you’d just give me the twenty bucks.” Sergio held out his hand with a flourish, “pay up, please.”
Fernando rolled his eyes and took one hand off the wheel to dig out his wallet from his back pocket. He slapped a twenty into Sergio’s palm.
Sergio grinned, “thanks.” He pocketed the cash, “why did I even forget in the first place? The performance finished and I was doing some sort of victory speech...”
“With accompanying interpretive dance moves,” Fernando cut in.
“And so we left the theatre, wait no we didn’t...” Sergio trailed off before smirking slyly, “oh, well, that makes sense.”
Fernando felt his cheeks flush.
Sergio looked over, observing Fernando’s discomfort. “Sorry, is this awkward?”
Fernando shook his head, “no, I’m just... surprised how much I miss it; you and me - taking Madrid by storm, doing whatever the hell we wanted without anyone to tell us not to. They were good days.”
“Yeah, they were.”
*
“So this is my favourite place.”
Sergio looked around confused, “a golf course?”
“Don’t act so surprised, I come here a lot.”
“To...um...” Sergio wracked his brains for the right word, “uh... play? You don’t seriously play golf do you?”
Fernando grinned, “No. I come here to... I don’t know... think, relax; get away from it all.”
Sergio strolled a couple of paces away, sneakers sinking into the dewy grass. “Why? What’s so special about it?”
Fernando shrugged, scuffing lightly at the grass before squatting down, “I don’t know. I think it’s because it’s big and open like a football pitch. So it’s familiar and comfortable, but I can relax here because I’m not suffocating under the pressure that I feel when I’m at the stadium or training grounds.” Fernando paused, “it’s stupid, I guess.”
“No, it’s not. Everyone has their place; it doesn’t have to make any sense to anyone else except you.” Sergio strolled back and sat down beside Fernando, ignoring the wet grass.
They were both quiet for an age, enjoying the peace that can only be found when the rest of the world is asleep.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” Sergio murmured, “I like knowing about your life, Nando.”
“I like having you here.”
*
Sergio fell asleep on the drive back to the airport, feet on the dash and temple against the window. Fernando didn’t think he had ever felt more relaxed than at that moment, listening to the sound of Sergio’s consistent breaths intermingled with the soft music that drifted gently around the car. It took every ounce of his self control not to turn around and just drive until they ran out of road.
The airport was quiet, littered with the sporadic traveller pulling suitcases and masking yawns. Fernando found a park and pulled in smoothly, shutting of the engine before reaching out and shaking Sergio by the shoulder. “Hey, we’re here.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Sergio mumbled. He pushed himself awkwardly back into a seated position, “I feel like hell.”
“Just think how great you’ll feel after the flight,” Fernando joked opening his door and stepping out into the cool morning air. “A flight, followed up with a couple of hours of training.”
Sergio rubbed his face and yawned, “Maybe I should just stay and tell Del Bosque I got lost.”
Fernando rounded the car, “you got lost and ended up in Liverpool?”
“It’s feasible.”
“It could be,” Fernando smiled, “except that training is in Madrid.”
“True. Guess I have to go then.”
Fernando reached out and pulled Sergio into a tight hug.
“Good luck with the qualifiers,” Fernando began, “and thanks for coming. I needed it.” He paused before admitting quietly, “I needed you.”
Sergio returned the hug, one hand slipping up to brush over the soft strands of hair at the nape of Fernando’s neck. “Just... promise you won’t get injured before the next National Team call-up, okay? It’s the only time I get to see you.”
Fernando pressed his lips to Sergio’s neck, ““I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s okay. We’re okay.” Sergio loosened his grip reluctantly, “Thanks for showing me around.”
Fernando let out a breath. “You’re welcome.”
“I have to go.”
Fernando dropped his arms and took a step back, “story of our lives - one of us is always leaving.”
Sergio smiled and picked up his bag of CDs, “yeah, but that’s okay, because we always end up together eventually, right?”
*~*
THE END
*~*