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Chapter Text

Sergio hadn’t thought much of Luka when they first met. He’d watched a few of Luka’s matches before he transferred—he was a decent player, but tiny, boyish, and meek, not someone Sergio would take much interest in on or off the field. The first time Sergio heard Luka’s low, grinding voice greeting him in halting, heavily accented Spanish he was shocked.

"You wouldn’t think someone so small would sound like that,” he’d said to Marcelo after they’d both met Luka for the first time.

Luka’s Spanish improved quickly, and, after a season, his play did, too. With Luka fully part of the first team and speaking the same language as everyone else, he quickly became so much a part of Real Madrid that it was hard to imagine it without him. He was essential on the pitch, always making himself open to pass to when you needed to get out of a tough spot, providing the forwards with beautiful, impossible assists, never making risky passes back to the defenders. At the same time, he won over everyone in the locker room with his quiet, self-deprecating humor and reserved, gentle spirit. One day, he was a midfielder no one really knew much about, and the next, he was Lukita and everyone on the team loved him.

As a rule, Sergio avoided thinking about his teammates sexually. He could admit to himself that he was attracted to men and that he was surrounded by extremely attractive men every day, but it wouldn’t work for him to be checking them out every chance he got or even to think about them when he was home alone. After their first Champions League title, though, Sergio was too happy and buzzed to remember that.

Luka was drunk, too. They were celebrating at the Bernabeu, taking turns posing with the trophy, when Luka turned to Sergio and wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Sergio reacted automatically, supporting Luka by sliding his arms around his lower back. Luka squeezed his arms and legs around him once before loosening them, ready to be set down. Sergio’s breathing stuttered, his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and he thought: Oh.

It was sort of sad to admit, but he hadn’t thought much about what his “type” was. With Luka in his arms, he felt like he knew it exactly: long haired midfielders whose compact bodies fit perfectly in his arms and had husky laughs and low, rough voices. He set Luka down quickly and, for a second, watched his ass as he walked away. Then, he got his thoughts back under control and made himself forget that moment of weakness.

Although Sergio was famous for his supposed lack of control on the field, he rarely did anything without carefully thinking it through. People who didn’t like him called him an animal, and they meant he was wild and vicious. The guys who had trained alongside him agreed he was an animal, but they called him pantera because he was as calculating as he was strong, just like a panther. Because he was always in his head and because he’d spent years pushing away inconvenient parts of himself, he was easily able to push aside whatever it was he’d felt when he held Luka that night, until one day, years later, when he lost his control again and didn’t get it back.

They were in preseason, and it was sunny and warm. Sergio was sitting on the grass, leaning back on his hands, loving the smell of the earth, the sound of balls being kicked, the voices and laughter of all his teammates. The sun made him sleepy and lazy, and his body, out of shape from the offseason, was tired. He watched as the midfielders practiced volleys from outside the box, attempting spectacular goals and missing most of them. After a few failed attempts, Luka made a beautiful one—a ball flying fast toward him, hit cleanly and into the top left corner of the net. Sergio smiled as Luka came running toward him and slid on his knees, messing around like he’d just scored in a World Cup final.

“Golazo!” Sergio said, laughing, and held one arm out to make Luka hug him. Sergio had always been touchy, hugging people whenever he had an excuse. Luka leaned into Sergio’s chest, wrapping his arms around his neck, and Sergio laid back on the grass, bringing Luka down with him and wrapping his other arm around him as they went. As soon as the back of Sergio’s head settled on the ground, he knew he’d made a mistake. Luka lay on top of him, their chests pressed together, their arms wrapped around each other. Luka’s quiet laugh was right at his ear. He should have slapped Luka hard on the back and let him go. Instead, he let himself close his eyes and pretend, for one second, that things were different: that Luka might turn his head and press his lips to Sergio’s, that Sergio could roll them over and press his hips against Luka’s, that they were alone and both shirtless or wearing nothing at all.

He imagined a hundred different scenarios as he felt the hard planes of Luka’s chest and stomach pressed against his own. He ran his hands, just barely, along the lean muscles of Luka’s back. He knew, immediately, that it was all over: he’d let himself act without thinking or planning, had let his mind wander too far with Luka, had held him here for too long. He’d opened a door that couldn’t be closed.

Luka pushed himself up after a moment and grinned down at Sergio before getting up and returning to training, and Sergio couldn’t keep himself from following Luka with hungry eyes. He took in Luka’s lithe, lean body, the muscles of his legs, the smooth, graceful way he ran and passed the ball.

That night, in his bed and under his sheets, Sergio got himself off thinking thoughts about Luka that were so filthy he couldn’t look him in the eye in training the next day.

There were a lot of similarities between the way Luka played football and the way he lived his life outside of it. He was almost always level headed and calm. He put the people around him first. He was always, always observing and analyzing everything around him. So, after Sergio had spent weeks staring at Luka’s ass when he walked away but not meeting his eyes when they talked, he wasn’t surprised when Luka subtly brought up his weird behavior.

“I feel like we haven’t talked in a long time,” Luka said to him as they were leaving the locker room at the end of the day. “What’s been going on with you?” To buy himself time and to make sure they didn’t have this conversation in front of any of their other teammates, Sergio asked Luka to go out to dinner to talk things over. “Eh,” Luka had said, frowning, “I don’t feel like being in public tonight. Come over and I’ll cook something.”

Sergio nodded because there was no good excuse to say no. He couldn’t very well tell Luka, “Actually, I’m nervous to be alone with you, so I’d rather we go to a restaurant.” Normally, he wouldn’t be worried—he’d sharpened his self-control over the entire course of his life. But, with Luka in the last month, his tight grasp on his urges had loosened dangerously.

Chapter Text

Luka was a decent cook of about five things. He could make a couple Croatian soups, although not as well as his father. Since coming to Spain, he’d learned to make pisto. When he was in England, he got hooked on a Chinese restaurant by his apartment, and now he made fried rice almost once a week. He could not cook a piece of meat to save his life. So, for the dinner he’d promised Sergio, he threw a bunch of vegetables and broth in a pot and let it simmer. Sergio was certainly not used to the light, meatless meals Luka survived on most of the time, but Luka figured he would try to appease him with his real strength in the kitchen: baking.

Luka loved being in his kitchen, which was all white marble and white cabinets. He breathed in the familiar scents of rosemary, olive oil, and yeast as he made focaccia to go with his soup, trying and failing to let the familiar feeling of the sticky dough on his fingers keep him from stressing about Sergio. In Luka’s years in Madrid, Sergio had become one of his best friends. They normally talked and hugged and joked during practice and spent time together outside of it. In the last few weeks, though, Sergio had been quiet and reserved around Luka, only meeting his eyes briefly and never touching him.

Luka had been pretty sure Sergio was gay almost since he met him. It was just an instinct, because he’d always been good at reading people, and not something he gave much thought to. Sergio was clearly not even close to out, and it didn’t matter to Luka either way. Luka was bi, but not at all interested in getting involved with another player, especially one who was on his team and was one of his best friends. He figured Sergio’s weirdness, though, might be about him being attracted to Luka. It was going to be an awkward subject to approach and, if Luka was right, might make Sergio mad. If he was wrong, Luka was pretty sure Sergio would just laugh it off and make fun of Luka for being so full of himself to think Sergio was pining over him. It did sound crazy, Luka recognized. Sergio was, for Luka’s money, one of the hottest guys in all of football, with his careful hair and charming, easy smile and his abs and tattoos. Luka was happy with his own appearance, even though he had a big nose and was shorter than he might have liked, but he knew that Sergio had his choice of attractive men to ogle at practice and that many people would not include Luka in their numbers. Still, Luka thought he was pretty good at reading people in general, and Sergio, with his open, expressive face, was not a particularly hard person to read.

Luka made lemon cupcakes—another thing he’d gotten attached to in London—which Sergio had loved when Luka brought a batch to practice once and which he hoped would help smooth out some of the tension that was sure to come up. He’d just taken out the focaccia, added pasta to the soup, and finished spreading pale yellow frosting into simple swirls on top of the cupcakes when the doorbell rang.

He walked quickly to the door and pulled it open. Sergio met Luka’s eyes and smiled, and it felt like the first time he’d really looked at Luka in weeks. There was a barely noticeable beat of silence between them. If he and Sergio hadn’t normally been so in synch, Luka wouldn’t have thought anything of it. As it was, he worried that they’d already lost some part of their friendship that they wouldn’t be able to get back.

“Hey,” Sergio said eventually. “I brought some wine.” He held a bottle out and Luka took it—it was red and clearly expensive, even though Sergio knew Luka couldn’t tell the difference between wine that cost ten dollars and a thousand. Sergio was wearing dark jeans and a white button up shirt with short sleeves which were rolled up to show off his bulging biceps. As impartial as he tried to be, Luka had always found it hard to get over Sergio’s arms: intricate, complicated tattoos over round muscles.

He smiled genuinely at Sergio and motioned for him to follow Luka inside the house. “I made soup without meat, but I think you’ll like it. It’s Croatian,” Luka said as they walked into the kitchen. He pulled out wine glasses and gave Sergio a corkscrew. Sergio seemed relieved to have something to do and put all of his focus on opening the wine. Luka ladled soup into two bowls and set the focaccia on a towel in the middle of the table for them to tear at. He felt Sergio’s nerves from across the room and heard him swallow before speaking.

“It smells good, Luka. Thank you for cooking. I love the bread you make.” Luka set the bowls down as Sergio popped open the wine and immediately poured it into two glasses, taking a deep drink out of his. They sat across from each other at the kitchen island and started eating.

Luka had thought they might be able to have a normal meal before talking about all the awkwardness between them, but it was impossible not to acknowledge. Sergio obviously felt that there was something weird between them at the moment, and Luka was pretty sure he knew why. He stood up and took the plate of cupcakes out from under a towel on the counter and put it on the table. When Sergio saw it, he gave Luka a small but genuine smile, which Luka returned. “I know it’s going to make you uncomfortable, but I think it will be good to talk about what’s going on.”

Sergio pursed his lips at Luka in a way that made him look annoyed but that Luka knew from experience meant he was worried and thoughtful. It was the look Sergio made in practice when his side was losing and he couldn’t figure out why. Finally, Sergio spoke, his voice caustic. “If anyone’s going to be uncomfortable I think it will be you.”

Luka was glad to see that Sergio, who was usually so confident and loud and imposing, finally being straightforward with Luka. In the past few weeks, he’d acted like he was scared of Luka, and Luka hated to see him made small like that. Sergio was a storm, a star, a fire: he should be loud and brash, not meek. Luka didn’t want to force Sergio to come out to him if he wasn’t ready, but he also couldn’t stand seeing him uncomfortable around Luka like this. And Luka knew from experience how insurmountable a task it could seem to come out to anyone when you played alongside guys who called each other puta like there was no worse insult and where the fans expected you to be the perfect picture of masculinity.

“I could never be uncomfortable around you,” he told Sergio.

Sergio scoffed, then seemed to have a hard time figuring out what to say next, his mouth starting to form words but then just falling into a frown as he sighed.

Luka chewed slowly on a bit of bread—which he thought had turned out pretty well—and watched Sergio patiently as Sergio looked around the room, searching for words. Sergio had let his hair grow out a bit lately. It was combed to the side in long, thick strands, with a few pieces brushing over his forehead. His beard was trimmed close to his face, as usual. His brown eyes were worried, his square jaw tense. Luka took cupcakes from the plate to set in front of himself and Sergio. He watched as Sergio peeled the wrapper off his.

“Do you want me to guess why you’ve been weird with me?” he finally asked.

Sergio seemed to think for a minute, then he signed and rolled his shoulders, meeting Luka’s eyes. “No,” he said. “I’m not a coward. I’ll be honest with you." Sergio paused for a moment, then finally said, straightforward and simple as Luka had come to expect from Sergio, “I’m attracted to you.” He paused, looking at Luka for a moment then jerking his eyes to the side. “I only started feeling this way a couple of weeks ago, and I tried to stop, but…I don’t know. I don’t know how to act like everything’s normal between us when suddenly I see you and I think—whatever.” His eyes came back to Luka’s. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking that you’re one of my best friends and that nothing you tell me will change that. And I’m bisexual,” Luka said, making Sergio’s eyebrows rise and his eyes widen.

“Luka,” Sergio gasped after a moment, “Really?”

Luka nodded. “Are you?” he asked, because Sergio hadn’t admitted to anything more than liking Luka specifically.

“I like men,” Sergio said, forcing the words out then seeming to wait for something disastrous to happen. Luka knew that he should say or do something to comfort Sergio, but that had never really been his strong suit. He had baked Sergio’s favorite cupcakes so that he wouldn’t have to worry about awkwardly trying to pat Sergio’s hand or initiating a hug with him or coming up with sweet, soothing words. It was easy, after years of knowing Sergio, for Luka to accept his hugs and occasional kisses, but Luka didn’t think he would ever be as openly affectionate or emotional as Sergio was. So he struggled to figure out how to respond to Sergio’s honest, open confession. “No one knows,” Sergio said solemnly after a beat of silence, meeting and holding Luka’s eyes.

“I won’t tell anyone, Sergio.”

“You’re not surprised,” Sergio realized. “How long have you thought this about me?”

Luka paused. “I thought you probably were the first time we met.” Sergio’s head reeled back at that. “Not because of anything you did. Just, like, a sense.” Sergio opened and closed his mouth many times, seeming at a loss for what to say. “Try the cupcakes,” Luka finally suggested. Sergio obediently took a bite of his cupcake, his eyes on Luka the whole time. He chewed slowly, then took a second bite and chewed slowly again. Luka tried his own cupcake. The frosting was maybe a bit too sweet, but the cake was good.

“I like these,” Sergio said finally. “I remember you brought them to practice one day.”

“Yeah,” Luka said.

Sergio finally seemed to get an idea of what to say next, dropping his cupcake onto the island. “You like men,” he mumbled, then leaned forward onto his elbows. “You like men and I like men,” he said, louder, his voice excited, a smile starting to form on his lips. He reached for Luka’s hand, wrapping his fingers around Luka’s wrist.

Luka couldn’t help but smile a little at Sergio’s fascinated, excited face. But the way his eyes roamed over Luka’s face and then held on his lips sobered Luka. “Right,” Luka said. “I wanted you to know so we could talk, if you wanted.”

Sergio’s expression didn’t change; he barely seemed to register Luka’s words. “This is…” he paused, then said, “We can have sex!” Sergio blinked slowly and shivered, and Luka had to breathe in slowly to keep from reacting to Sergio’s reaction. “Wait, do you have a boyfriend?” Sergio said suddenly, his eyes intent on Luka’s.

“I’m single. But, Sergio, it’s not a good idea.”

And it wasn’t. Luka had gotten involved with a teammate years ago, when he was young and stupid and playing in Croatia. He and Aron, a defensive midfielder who had been at the club for years, were always assigned to room together after away games. After a few months of subtle and then not so subtle glances and touches, Aron crawled into Luka’s bed one night and kissed him. They hooked up for a few months before the novelty wore off and Aron told Luka they should stop seeing each other, requested a new roommate, and stopped answering Luka’s calls. Luka hadn’t been in love with Aron or anything, but he was the first guy Luka had ever had sex with and he didn’t understand why Aron had gotten sick of him so quickly. At the end of the season he asked to be loaned out to another club because he couldn’t stand Aron acting as if nothing had every happened. He’d spent a year in the rough, physical Bosnian league and had narrowly avoided multiple injuries that could have ended his career, all because he wanted to avoid the fallout from hooking up with someone else on his team.

Luka was older and smarter now. He knew that having sex with someone you had to work with every day was not a good idea. Plus, beyond being his teammate, Sergio was Luka’s friend. He didn’t want to mess with their friendship or their work on the pitch just so they could get off together.

“Luka,” Sergio said, leaning even further forward and grabbing Luka’s free hand so he was holding both of Luka’s hands in both of his. “I think you’re so perfect. I’ll do anything you want. You don’t have to touch me if you don’t want. Let—what if you just let me suck your cock?”

“Sergio,” Luka said firmly, even as his cock twitched. “We’re not going to do that. It’s nothing to do with you or me, it’s just a bad idea. Please trust me.” Sergio seemed to finally understand that Luka was serious and wasn’t going to change his mind on this. He let go of Luka’s hands as if scalded, his eyes widening and his cheeks reddening. “It doesn’t bother me that you asked me that or that you’re attracted to me,” Luka told him. “I just want things to stay the same between us.”

Sergio breathed out a humorless laugh. “How can you act the same around me after what I told you? How am I supposed to act like I didn’t say all that?”

“We don’t have to pretend this didn’t happen. How many people know you’re gay?” Sergio shook his head in a way that said, ‘not many.’ “Okay, so don’t you think it will be nice to have someone you don’t have to worry about keeping that secret around? If you want to check me out, check me out. It doesn’t bother me. If you meet another man you want, tell me about him. If someone on another team says something that makes you feel shitty, you can talk to me about it. Having sex with me would fuck up our friendship, but being out to me could make it even better, don’t you think? You can be yourself with me.”

Sergio listened seriously to Luka as he spoke slowly and thoughtfully. When Luka stopped, Sergio's eyes wandered around the room thoughtfully. Then, his gaze settled back on Luka and he smiled, his eyes crinkling more and more as he seemed to imagine being able to talk and act with Luka the way Luka had described. Luka understood what Sergio was feeling, because, although he was out to his family and many of his friends in Croatia, Sergio, who was already one of the people Luka felt most real around, was the only person in Madrid who knew Luka was bi.

“Yes,” Sergio said after a moment. “I want that.”

Chapter Text

“Am I your usual type?” Luka asked Sergio. They were at Luka’s house playing cribbage a few days after Sergio had told Luka pretty much all of his biggest secrets. They sat at Luka’s kitchen island after eating dinner together. It was dark outside and Luka had his warm kitchen lights dimmed above them. The white marble countertop was cool under Sergio’s elbows as he sat across from Luka, loose and content.

Sergio had thought he might feel awkward around Luka, and he’d been almost sure that Luka would feel uncomfortable with Sergio after he had come on to him in no uncertain terms, but their friendship was more or less the same as it has been before. Except now, Sergio thought happily, they could talk about things like this.

“I don’t know,” Sergio said honestly. Luka furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing. Sergio hesitated, eyeing Luka as he reorganized the cards in his hand, his mouth slightly open as he thought through his next move. After a moment, Sergio figured he’d already shown Luka how pathetic he was when he’d begged to suck his cock, so there was no use worrying about embarrassing himself a tiny bit more. “Am I your type?” he asked.

Luka looked up at him, tilting his head. Sergio smiled showily, putting himself on display for Luka’s evaluation, which made Luka chuckle, his cheeks dimpling and his eyes crinkling in a way that made Sergio’s chest warm. “Yes,” Luka said simply.

Sergio smiled even wider. “What do you like about me?”

Luka rolled his eyes. “You’re pathetic.” He played a card, and Sergio barely glanced at it.

He leaned forward onto his elbows, unconsciously drawn closer to Luka. “I’ll happily tell you all the things I like about you.”

Luka pushed his hair behind one ear and took a sip of his glass of lemonade before meeting Sergio’s eyes. “Tell me one thing you like about me and I’ll do the same.”

The pink of your lips, the scrape of your voice, the curve of your chin. Your nose, your calves, your ass. The feel of the muscles of your back when we hug, the crinkle of your eyes when you smile, the way you fit under the crook of my arm. “Your hair,” Sergio said, proud of how cool he sounded in the face of the needy chaos of his mind.

His compliment made Luka smile shyly and run his hand through his hair. “I like your arms,” he told Sergio. Sergio tightened his biceps automatically, feeling Luka’s comment move through him like warm honey. He knew that Luka wasn’t being anything more than friendly, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited that Luka was into him physically.

He had been being honest with Luka when he’d said he wanted to be friends with him and not have to lie about being gay, and the thought had helped him feel a bit better about being turned down. It wasn’t like he’d ever planned on actually being with Luka anyway—before he’d come out to Luka the other night, Sergio had figured his fantasies about Luka would be a shameful, guilty secret that he’d never tell anyone about. It wasn’t until Luka had told Sergio he was bi that Sergio had even thought it was a possibility that his attraction to Luka could lead to anything. No matter how many times he told himself all that, though, Sergio couldn’t convince himself to get over his crush on Luka, who was still dreamily hot and one of the smartest, gentlest, and most fun people Sergio had ever known.

After waiting for a moment, Luka impatiently waved at Sergio’s hand of cards, and Sergio took his turn. “I’m glad this all happened with you and not with, like, Karim or someone,” he mused. “I don’t think there’s anyone else that could still make me feel comfortable around them after I told them everything I told you.”

“I’m glad I can be here for you,” Luka said, then played a card and hopped his peg to the end of the board. “I win," he crowed, grinning smugly at Sergio.

***

A couple of weeks after Sergio had come out to Luka, Real Madrid played against Atletico. Atletico were having a good season and had a squad of tricky, skilled players that Sergio knew would give him trouble all night. The stadium was already filling as they warmed up, the crowd loud and excited. It was hot and muggy and the sun covered half of the pitch in bright light as it slowly sank behind the stadium roof. Sergio and Luka stretched together, curling their arms around each other’s backs as they bent their knees and pulled their feet up behind them. Sergio squeezed Luka’s shoulder, which was tense.

“We’re going to win today,” he told Luka, looking sideways at him, their faces only inches apart. Luka raised an eyebrow, quirked his lips, and tilted his head in a way he always did to say ‘maybe.’ “There’s no one in their midfield that can touch you.”

Luka chuckled, then dropped his leg and let go of Sergio’s shoulder, putting one leg out in front of him and bending down to touch his toes. Luka had told Sergio he could check him out if he wanted, but so far Sergio had tried not to be a creep. With Luka’s back arched flexibly and his ass on display right in front of Sergio, though, he really couldn’t help it. He let his eyes run up and down Luka’s figure before letting his gaze rest on Luka’s ass. Luka curved his back suddenly, turning to Sergio and starting to say something. Sergio thought he managed to drag his eyes to Luka’s face fairly quickly, but Luka was looking at him with a cheeky smile that made it obvious he’d caught Sergio starting. He straightened up and turned to Sergio.

Luka put a hand over his lips and arched an eyebrow as he said, “There’s thousands of people watching us. Do you think you could be a bit more subtle?” Sergio winked at him.

The first half of the game was rough. Real scored early but then fell apart. They let in one goal from a set piece early in the match, then spent forty minutes fighting to get back the game back under control. In the locker room, Zidane told them that if they kept pressing high and working hard, a goal would come. Then, at the half, Atletico subbed on their new defensive midfielder, Ramirez.

The guy was a demon—fast and strong and aggressive. He hunted Luka down whenever he had the ball, fouling him over and over again to stop whatever attack Luka tried to start. Eventually, the ref gave him a yellow for committing so many fouls, but he didn’t back off. Sergio could tell Luka was getting frustrated, and he was, too. If Sergio ended up next to Ramirez, he decided he’d foul him, even if it meant getting a yellow.

With ten minutes to go Real and Atletico were tied when Atletico lost possession just outside of their box, the ball falling to Sergio. He didn’t have to look up to pass the ball to Luka, who turned with the ball and ran, beating Atletico’s central mid and sending their defenders, who had come up for a set piece, scrambling to get back in position. But Luka was fast, on top of everything else he was good at, and he got away from everyone but Ramirez, who sprinted just a step behind him.

If he fouled Luka, he’d get a second yellow card, since he was the last man, but if he didn’t, he’d let Luka get past him and go one on one with the goalkeeper. There was a clear choice, and one Sergio had made many times before. Sergio knew how easy it was to casually stop someone: all he’d have to do is stretch and arm forward and push the guy a bit to unbalance him. No real harm, just a tactical foul.

But the fucking guy tracking Luka didn’t do that. Instead, he accelerated to get alongside Luka and slid in for a tackle. Even from where Sergio stood, halfway across the field, and even in real time, he could see how bad the tackle was. Ramirez was nowhere near the ball, his studs raised and aimed for Luka’s leg, and as he slid forward, he bent and then straightened his leg, kicking Luka with extra force, pushing him sideways. Even as Luka fell, the asshole kept sliding, scraping his studs down Luka’s leg, then popping up like nothing happened. Sergio was running before he could even think, angrier than he had been in a long time.

The ref was right there, immediately showing a red card and waving the medics over. Luka curled up on his side, cupping his right knee. Ramirez stood above him shouting something down at him, but Sergio couldn’t hear it through the whistles of the crowd and the blood pounding in his ears. He didn’t slow down as he reached Ramirez, shoving him with the full force of his run. Nacho caught up to Sergio as Ramirez was stumbling back and held Sergio off him. Ramirez’s teammates ushered him off the field and the ref quickly showed Sergio a yellow card, telling him to calm down, but Sergio couldn’t care less.

He stumbled over to Luka, who had two medics hovering over him, scared to see how hurt he was. He crouched down next to him and put a hand on his head. “Luka?” he said, and realized his voice was shaking. Luka looked up at him, and Sergio was so ready to see pain on his face or tears in his eyes that he couldn’t read his expression at first. After a second, he realized that Luka was annoyed, his eyes squinted, lips pursed. He swore in Croatian, then in Spanish.

Sitting up and waving the medical team away he yelled, “Hey!” toward the sideline, where the guy who’d tackled him was already heading into the tunnel. “Fuck you!” The defender didn’t hear him, and neither did the ref, but Luka’s anger made Sergio laugh with relief. He stood and helped Luka up, holding his arms for a moment to be sure he was steady. He kicked his leg back and forth a couple times as the medics walked off the field. Sergio lingered by him for another moment, still not letting go of one of his arms. “I’m fine,” Luka told him, pushing him toward the goal where the other players were starting to line up, ready for the free kick.

“Okay,” Sergio said, then hesitated for a moment. “Give me an assist,” he smiled. Luka grinned back.

Sergio watched closely as Luka lined up, eyed the mess of players in the box, then kicked the ball in a high arc, landing it on Sergio’s head almost without Sergio moving. Sergio headed the ball into the side of the net and ran toward Luka to celebrate, lifting him into a hug and then keeping him under his arm as they were surrounded by their other teammates. He relished in the feel of hands slapping his back and ruffling his hair, of the close voices of his teammates and the broader, mingling yells of the fans, of Luka’s soft hair brushing against his chin. Sergio’s heart beat fast.

***

Sergio tried to host team dinners at his house once a month or so. He liked hanging out with his teammates, and he thought it was good for team morale for everyone to talk to each other outside of work. Plus, Sergio liked feeding the people he cared about and was a pretty good cook since his mom had always forced him to help her in the kitchen.

This would be their last dinner before the end of the season and, more importantly, before the Champions League final. Everyone was tense and excited, Sergio knew, and he hoped that taking a night off to relax together would help get them ready to make history next week.

At one of the first dinners Luka had attended, Sergio, who had quickly learned how much Luka loved desserts, had told Luka he had something special for him, opening his fridge to show Luka a package of cupcakes Sergio had got at the supermarket.

Luka had smiled and thanked Sergio, and Sergio had felt proud of himself for noticing his new teammate’s tastes and catering to them. When they finished eating and Sergio gave Luka one of the cupcakes, though, he noticed Luka eating it slowly and without his usual relish. He’d caught Luka by the arm on his way out and squinted down at him.

“You didn’t like your dessert,” he’d said, making Luka blush.

“Thank you for buying it,” he said. “Maybe next time I could bake some cupcakes and bring them with me?”

Sergio had blinked in surprise. “You bake?” Luka nodded. “Okay. Yes, please do that. Thank you.”

So Luka had brought cupcakes to Sergio’s next dinner. Sergio always had plenty of food for his teammates, but he’d never really thought about dessert, and he figured no one else on the team had either. But everyone had devoured the chocolate coconut cupcakes Luka brought that first time, telling Luka he had to bake for them more often. Luka had promised them he’d bring dessert to Sergio’s dinners whenever he could. He had baked something for every dinner since. Eventually, Sergio told him he should start coming over before everyone else so that he could get his dessert ready while Sergio got the meal ready. Sometimes he would come over a few hours early with a bag of ingredients that Sergio would watch him make into some perfect dish. Sergio liked when Luka baked at his house because he gave Sergio spoons to lick and filled his kitchen with sweet, warm smells. Usually, though, he baked at home and brought whatever he’d made to Sergio’s house and did any last-minute prepping or decorating. Today, Luka had come with a couple loaves of bread, an unfrosted cake, a plastic container of frosting, and a tub of fresh berries.

Sergio was always touchy with Luka. He had thought for a moment that things might change once Luka knew Sergio found him attractive, but in the months since Sergio had told him, Luka had kept leaning into hugs and touches like he always had.

Sergio was an affectionate person, and he’d learned after only a few months with Luka that Luka loved physical affection like a dog loved being petted, even though he rarely initiated it himself. During one of Luka’s first weeks in Madrid, Sergio had slung an arm around his shoulders as they walked next to each other during practice. At first, Luka had stiffened, and Sergio had thought maybe Croatians were less into touch than Spaniards or that Luka in particular was uncomfortable with it. He had been about to pull his arm back and make a note to avoid touching his new teammate in the future when Luka had sighed quietly through his nose and leaned into Sergio’s side, pressing a hand against Sergio’s back for just a moment. He acted, Sergio thought, like someone who hadn’t been hugged in a long time.

Now, Luka got hugged all the time, not just by Sergio but by all his Madrid teammates, who loved picking him up to hear his laugh in their ears, ruffling his soft hair, putting him in light, childish headlocks. While Luka was still more reserved than most of his Spanish teammates, Sergio could see how receiving affection made him smile, even when he pushed himself out of hugs.

Sergio loved touching Luka, who was soft and sweet and always smelled nice, and since Luka liked it too, Sergio figured there was nothing wrong with doing it as often as possible. During practice he would curve an arm around Luka’s neck when they walked side by side, press quick kisses to his cheeks, pick him up by the waist in tight hugs. Tonight, he had Luka in the relatively small space of his kitchen as they got ready for a team dinner, and as they moved around each other, Sergio had even more chances to touch him than normal.

When he crossed from one side of the kitchen to the other and passed behind Luka, who stood at the counter slicing the loaves of bread he’d brought, Sergio briefly touched his hip. On his way back across the room, he reached around Luka to grab at a piece of bread. Luka scoffed but let Sergio take one and bite into it. The bread was salty and had a crunchy, chewy crust.

“This turned out good,” Sergio said. Luka hummed noncommittally. “What do you think is wrong with it?” Sergio laughed, knowing how particular Luka could be.

“It’s too tough,” Luka said.

“You’re too tough to please,” Sergio told him, and Luka rolled his eyes at his terrible joke. Sergio finished his bread and picked up Luka's wrist to look at his watch. The guys would start showing up in ten minutes or so, so he figured he should start carving the chicken he’d roasted.

“Duck,” he said, brushing a hand over the top of Luka’s head and leaning slightly against his back to open a cupboard in front of him and fish out a knife.

When Sergio had finished carving the chicken and stacking up plates and silverware for their teammates to use when they arrived, he leaned against the island and watched as Luka precisely placed berries on top of the cake he’d made, which was round and a few layers tall, covered in pale white frosting. When Luka leaned back to survey his work, Sergio smiled and walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Luka’s ribs and pressing his cheek against the side of Luka’s head. “That’s pretty,” he said.

“Thank you,” Luka said, patting Sergio’s forearm and relaxing, just barely, against Sergio’s chest. Sergio tightened his arms around Luka and rubbed his chin against his hair. Because being around Luka always made him lose track of what he was doing, he was about to press his hips against Luka’s back when the doorbell rang, making Luka duck out of Sergio’s grip and smooth down his hair.

“Who do you think is here first?” Sergio asked, heading toward the door.

“Toni,” Luka said definitively, and Sergio laughed. When Sergio opened the door, it was Toni who was standing there. The German, who still hadn’t adjusted to the Spanish schedule, always tried to come as early as possible so that he could leave early, too. Toni and Sergio greeted each other and chatted as they went into the house.

Most of the other guys showed up not long after, and they all gathered in the kitchen, where Luka poured drinks for everyone. Raphael and Karim were still missing, but Sergio told everyone to go ahead and walk through the kitchen and fill their plates. The team settled at Sergio’s long wooden dining table. Sergio sat at one end, across from Dani and Lucas and next to the other Spanish guys.

“Did Lukita bake this?” Lucas asked, holding up a slice of bread.

“Yes,” Sergio said, arching his neck to look down the table to where Luka sat next to Gareth and Toni, listening to Gareth say something in English. Dani snorted and Lucas elbowed him.

“Look at his smile,” Dani said, laughing and pointing at Sergio.

Sergio ran a hand over his nose and mouth, finding that he was smiling widely without even realizing it. He forced himself clear his expression. “What?” he asked, confused at Dani’s grinning face and Lucas’ uncomfortable squirming.

“Nothing,” Lucas insisted.

“Your smile when you talk about Luka is cute,” Dani said.

Sergio tensed, his heart suddenly beating harder. He tried to come up with something to say that wouldn’t make Dani and Lucas realize anything more about his feelings for Luka than they already had. The doorbell rang just then, and Sergio jumped up and quickly and thankfully headed toward the door.

He yanked the door open to see Raphael and Karim standing side by side. Raphael nodded at Sergio, his face cool and blank, as usual. Karim smiled widely, leaning forward to slap Sergio on the shoulder before stepping around him into the house.

“Sorry we’re late,” Karim said. “Rafa took forever.” Raphael scoffed and followed Sergio and Karim into the kitchen.

They each filled their plates with food and Sergio poured them drinks, and they all went into the dining room. The team greeted Raphael and Karim loudly and made room for them to sit at the table. Sergio hesitantly settled back across from Lucas and Dani, because he couldn’t very well pick up his plate and move, but luckily they were involved in a joking argument with Isco, who sat next to Dani.

Sergio quietly enjoyed his food, soaking in the sounds of his teammates laughing and talking with each other.

They finished the meal, then had Luka’s cake, which Sergio honestly thought was one of the best things he’d ever eaten. Everyone slowly left, saying their goodbyes and thanking Sergio for having them. Luka put the few extra slices of cake in a plastic container in Sergio’s fridge, then rinsed the dishes he’d brought and put them back in the plastic bag he’d brought them in. He leaned up to kiss Sergio on the cheek, then left.

Sergio put on his favorite playlist and sang along to it as he rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. He splashed water onto his face and reached up to brush it off his cheek with the back of his hand and found himself smiling again, but this time he didn’t force himself to stop.

***

It was sort of an unspoken rule that during the World Cup you didn’t talk with your clubmates from other countries. Since there was a chance you’d have to face them at some point, it was best to try to get some distance and to make sure you didn’t give away and tactics or anything like that. All of the players were professional enough that Sergio didn’t really think it would be a problem, but he understood why the rule was unofficially a thing. Most of his best friends were in the Spain squad, anyway. And the only person he really missed talking with texted him the day before Spain’s first match.

“Sorry to hear about your coach. Good luck against Portugal.” Sergio smiled, and then got caught up in the chaos that losing their head coach right before their first game had created.

Since Luka had started it, Sergio figured it would be okay to text him once, especially during the group stages, where Croatia and Spain weren’t playing each other. And, even without that reasoning, there was really no way Sergio could keep from texting Luka after watching him play against Argentina. He drafted a few different messages, ranging from thirsty (“I love your second kit, you look so hot in black.”) to creepy (“I’ve watched your goal a thousand times”) to needy (“I miss you”). In the end, he went with something a bit less pathetic, but which he hoped Luka would read into: “You looked great today,” followed by an emoji he almost always typed into his messages to Luka, a winking face blowing a kiss.

He had watched Luka’s goal—and his celebration—more times than he ever wanted anyone to know. He’d memorized Luka’s wide smile as he ran toward the crowd with spread arms and messy hair, the beautiful, precise way he’d hit the ball just inside the crossbar, the way his hips and ass looked on the angle that showed him from behind.

He was thinking about pulling up the video on his phone again when Luka texted him back with the emoji that seemed to be his go-to with Sergio and which made Sergio smile every time: a blushing, smiling face with two tiny, spread hands held up next to it.

Sergio thought Luka might text him after Spain’s loss to Russia, but he didn’t. The best thing to do, Sergio thought, would be to lick his wounds in private. But, as soon as he was done doing press and talking to his teammates and was alone in his hotel room, he called Luka.

Luka picked up after one ring. “Halo,” he said before a jumble of quick words in Croatian.

“Uh, its Sergio,” Sergio said in Spanish.

There was a moment of silence, then a sigh. “I know. I was with Ivan and Mateo. I told them you’re my mom.” Luka paused to give Sergio space to talk. Normally, Sergio appreciated Luka’s quiet patience, but today, he had no idea what to say.

“Did you see the match?” he finally choked out.

“Yes,” Luka said. “You must be exhausted.”

Sergio was sure he would be, soon. The game had gone all the way to penalties, and even before that, it felt like he’d passed the ball more than he ever had in his life. Right now, though, he was too in his head to even think about sleeping. “I’m just…sad,” he told Luka, and Luka made a sympathetic sound. They both knew it was probably the last World Cup they’d play in. But while Luka was having a perfect tournament and dragging his team with him, Spain was underperforming, and Sergio had done nothing about it. They were both quiet for a while, but Luka’s even breathing was soothing.

Finally, Luka spoke. “You’ve already won once, anyway. Don’t be greedy.”

Sergio laughed humorlessly. “This from the man who’s won four Champions Leagues with me?”

“Eh,” Luka said, “I stopped trying after the first one.”

That made Sergio laugh for real. It was such a Luka thing to say, and he could picture the half smile Luka would get on his face as he thought of the joke. “I wish you were here,” he said.

“If we win tomorrow, we’ll play Russia soon,” Luka said, ignoring Sergio’s comment, for which Sergio was mostly thankful. “Do you have any insights?”

“I should be asking you to tell me what we did wrong. I still don’t know for sure, but I’m sure you’ve got it all figured out,” He sighed. “Just… Good luck, Luka. If I can’t win, then there’s no one I would want to more than you.”

“Thanks.” Luka breathed in, long and slow, then said, “I have to go. Bye.” Sergio said goodbye and waited for a moment to hear Luka hang up. “I miss you,” Luka said, quickly and sincerely in his deep, rough voice, before ending the call. Sergio was left feeling slightly, slightly less terrible than he had before calling Luka.

When Croatia beat Russia on penalties a few days later, Sergio felt even better. He’d spent hours with his Spanish teammates, agonizing over their loss, and they had mostly come to terms with it. He watched the game between Russia and Croatia with several of the Spanish guys, most of whom had played with either Luka or Rakitic, and all of whom now hated Russia.

Luka had a game that made it hard for Sergio to breath. He played as hard as Sergio had ever seen him for the full 120 minutes, jumping into challenges that made Sergio cringe and making sprints that made Sergio’s lungs ache. When Luka fell onto his back at the end of regular time, Sergio ground his teeth. He’s too old to do all this, we need him next season, he can’t get hurt, why is he the only one on his team trying to do anything. When Luka got an assist in extra time, Sergio, Dani, and Lucas jumped up and yelled. Even after they sat down, Sergio smiled so big and happy that Pique and Busquets noticed and made fun of him. When Luka took his penalty, Sergio was pacing behind the couch, his eyes glued to the TV.

“Maybe your boy should take penalties at Madrid this year,” Pique said after Luka just barely made his. “He’s even worse than you.” Sergio rolled his eyes, and when Croatia won, Sergio felt happier than he had since Russia had beaten Spain.

Sergio didn’t know what to say to Luka that night, but he wanted to say something. He couldn’t come up with words, so he just scrolled through the list of emojis, clicking on ones he hoped would somehow tell Luka all the things Sergio was feeling: the kissy winking face he always used, a red heart, a gold medal, the Croatian flag.

Luka didn’t respond for a while, but he eventually sent a message with the blushing face with tiny hands, a horse, a person soaking in a bath, and a carton of Chinese food. Sergio spent a long time trying and failing to figure out the horse.

Luka called Sergio so late after Croatia’s loss in the final that the sun was about to rise, but Sergio knew Luka wouldn’t have slept.

“Lukita,” he answered, voice rough with sleep.

“Sorry to wake you up,” Luka said, his voice low and tired.

“I was hoping you would call me,” Sergio said honestly.

“I wish you had been playing with me today,” Luka whispered.

“I wish I could have done anything to help you win, because you deserve it so much more than anyone out there.”

“Maybe Rafa deserves it a little,” Luka said.

“Okay, maybe, but not fucking Griezmann.”

“No,” Luka agreed. “I can’t wait to be back in Madrid,” he sighed.

“I can’t wait to see you,” Sergio said. They were quiet for a moment, and everything—Luka’s breathing, the silence, the white noise of the phone—felt so bare and raw that Sergio couldn’t do anything but feel the ache in his chest.

Finally, Luka cleared his throat. “We’re about to fly out, but I just needed to talk to you.”

“Okay. Have a safe flight.” Sergio said, wishing he could say something better.

“See you in a few weeks,” Luka said, and hung up.

Chapter Text

Luka was sprawled out on a lounge chair next to the pool at his house in Madrid, the sun beating onto his skin and making him sweat. He wore sunglasses and had a towel draped over his head to keep the sun out of his eyes. He sighed, stretching his limbs, which, even after two weeks of vacation, seemed heavy.

Luka’s summer had been one of the best of his life. He’d captained his team to the World Cup final, helped bring his country so much joy, and had had a good individual tournament. Although losing to France had been agonizing, now that he’d had some time to reflect on it Luka was mostly just proud of what his team had accomplished.

But the tournament and the celebrations afterward had been exhausting, and with only a few days to go before preseason training started, Luka was still feeling twinges in his muscles. He’d come home from vacation a little bit early to give himself time to relax and settle back in—although, honestly, he’d spent most of his vacation laying out in the sun just like he was now. He’d missed Madrid, though; missed his favorite restaurants and his kitchen and the view from his bedroom window. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, really, but Spain had become his home. And he’d missed his best friend.

Sergio’s support during the World Cup, his quiet voice over the phone after Croatia had lost in the final, had comforted Luka more than even the guys who had played and lost alongside him that night had. As they spent the last few weeks of their summers on vacation, Luka and Sergio had texted each other almost daily.

Sergio sent pictures of himself fishing on yachts, training in his home gym, riding his horses. Luka sent short little stories about funny things that happened to him or people who annoyed him.

On the third day of Luka’s vacation, Sergio had asked Luka, for the third time, what he was doing that day. “Nothing,” Luka had responded, also for the third time.

“Please,” Sergio had texted back. “I know you’re not just lying around all day. Send me a picture.” Luka was, in fact, lying on a towel in the sand, just has he had the two days before. He held his phone above him and lazily smiled as he took a quick picture before sending it to Sergio. He dropped his phone onto his stomach and sighed, letting his eyes drift closed. A few minutes later, his phone vibrated, and he picked it up to read Sergio’s text. “Madre mía,” it said, followed by a smiling face with a tongue hanging out like it was panting.

Luka laughed and didn’t respond to Sergio’s text, but the next afternoon he sent a picture of himself that one of his friends took. Luka was leaning back on his hands in the sand, feet resting in the water. He was wearing his short swim trunks and nothing else, and his hair was curled around his face after drying with sea water in it. He sent it to Sergio partly as a joke, partly because Sergio had been sending Luka pictures of himself in nothing but short, tight workout shorts for days, and partly because Sergio’s reactions to him were flattering.

If anyone else as hot as Sergio had told Luka they were into him, he would have had a bit of a hard time believing it, but Sergio made Luka feel sexier than anyone he’d ever dated or hooked up with had. Sergio’s eyes on him sometimes were so focused and hungry that Luka could feel Sergio’s gaze, and he gave Luka casual, sweet compliments like it was nothing. And, Luka thought, it probably was nothing for Sergio, who was more open than Luka could ever imagine being.

Luka had worried, months ago, that he might have to be careful not to lead Sergio on. But it was clear that they were on the same page about how terrible a romantic relationship between them would be. The only thing that had really changed since Luka had found out Sergio was gay was that Sergio would casually, playfully flirt with Luka, like he had in response to Luka’s first picture. They were both happy being friends, and messing around with each other that way was just another element of their friendship.

“Please stop torturing me,” Sergio had texted Luka in response to the second photo Luka had sent of himself, followed by a winking emoji.

When he got back home a week later, Luka had texted Sergio almost immediately, just giving himself a bit of time to shower and throw his suitcases on his bed. “I’m back in Madrid,” he’d said simply. He wanted to see Sergio, but it felt too needy to ask him if he wanted to hang out when they would see each other in training in a few days anyway.

Sergio, though, responded almost immediately with exactly what Luka had been wishing he had the courage to ask: “Can I come over?”

“Sure,” Luka had replied. “I think I’m going to swim.” Sergio had said okay and nothing else, so Luka figured he was on his way.

Maybe a half hour after he’d texted Sergio, Luka heard a car pulling into his driveway. He jumped up and walked quickly inside and to the front door, which he pulled open to reveal Sergio wearing tiny blue swim shorts and a black t-shirt. “Hey,” Sergio said casually, then smiled widely and stepped forward and leaned down to fold his arms around Luka’s hips. Luka wrapped his arms around Sergio’s neck, and Sergio picked him up, holding him tight against his chest and taking a few steps into the house, pushing the door shut behind him with his shoulder. Luka smiled and pressed his face into Sergio’s neck, lightly brushing his lips over Sergio’s warm skin. Sergio hummed happily and put Luka back onto his feet but kept his arms tight around his waist, leaning forward and burying his face in Luka’s hair, breathing in deeply. “It’s good to see you,” he said, loosening his arms a little and slowly running his hands up the bare skin of Luka’s back.

Luka dropped his arms from Sergio’s neck and cupped them at his ribs, gently pushing himself away from Sergio. “One more second,” Sergio said, and Luka let him pull their bodies flush against each other again. After another moment, Sergio set himself away from Luka, keeping his hands just above Luka’s hips. He smiled down at Luka and Luka grinned back, even more thankful than before that he’d gotten to see Sergio before their first day of preseason where all their teammates and trainers would have been around to witness this display.

Sergio looked Luka up and down slowly. “You look like a picture I’ve seen somewhere,” he said, making Luka chuckle. Then, “hey, wait, let me take my shirt off and let’s redo the hug.”

“You’re pathetic,” Luka told him. “But do take your shirt off. Let’s swim.” Sergio kicked his sandals off next to the door and followed Luka through the house. Outside, Luka walked around the pool to the steps, watching out of the corner of his eyes as Sergio pulled his shirt over his head, stretched, then ran and jumped into the deep end of the pool, splashing water.

Luka smiled wistfully. Sergio was exuberant in a way Luka almost never was. In the last year or so, Luka thought Sergio had become even more open and enthusiastic than before, especially around Luka. Sergio popped out of the water, shaking his hair like a dog, just as Luka stepped onto the first step, relishing in the cool, smooth feel of the water on his skin. Sergio swam to the shallower end of the pool and then waded over to Luka as Luka reached the bottom of the stairs, standing up to his waist in the water.

“When I was really young I wanted to be an Olympic swimmer,” Luka told Sergio, because he’d just remembered it for the first time in years.

“Yeah?” Sergio asked, and Luka nodded. “You’re a bit smaller than most pro swimmers, I think.”

“That’s what the lady who gave me swimming lessons told me,” he laughed, slowly wading deeper and deeper into the water, letting himself get used to the cool feel of it on his skin before going any further.

“Well, I’m sure you could have done it anyway. I’m glad you chose football, though.” Then Sergio lunged toward Luka, picked him up, and threw him sideways into the water. Luka was shocked with the cold for just a second before he got used to it. He stood up quickly, running a hand through his dripping hair to push it off his face, and glared at Sergio for just a moment before Sergio’s wide, michevious smile made him crack up.

After floating and splashing around for a while, they got out of the pool and Sergio dried off with a towel before pulling on his shirt and running to the store for food while Luka rinsed off in the shower. Sergio came back with two steaks, which he assured Luka he would grill himself, a bottle of wine, and a couple pints of ice cream. Luka sat at his kitchen island, chin in his hands, as Sergio evaluated Luka’s spice rack.

“Tell me more about your summer,” Luka said.

Sergio shrugged. “We fucked up at the World Cup, but since we were done early I visited my family, which was fun. They watched the final with me.”

Luka swallowed. “What did they think?” What he really meant was, what did you think.

Sergio laughed as he sprinkled seasonings onto the steaks, then rubbed them in. “They were furious about the penalty. Seriously, I’ve never heard my mom so angry at the TV.”

“I didn’t think it was one, but they scored three more on their own anyway,” Luka said, and was glad that he’d been able to get the words out without sounding or feeling particularly bitter. Sergio hummed thoughtfully and washed his hands. He turned around to face Luka as he dried them on a towel.

“They told me I was lucky to play with you,”

“They’re right."

Coming around the island to stand next to Luka’s bar stool, Sergio said, “My mom cried a little when you won the golden ball. She told me to kiss you when I saw you.” That surprised Luka. He tilted his head up at Sergio.

“Did you come out to your family?” he asked.

“Ha. No. She meant… She used to do this when I cried. Close your eyes.” Luka did and Sergio took his face in his hands, then pressed a soft, warm kiss on each of his eyelids, his breath warm and moist on Luka’s cheeks. Then he dropped his hands, and Luka felt him move back. Luka kept his eyes closed for another second before looking up at Sergio, who he found frowning down at him, looking a bit off balance. Sergio blinked once, slowly, then seemed to right himself, pulling back from Luka and smiling. “Let’s go outside and I’ll tell you about this big fish I caught.”

Luka sprawled out on a lounge chair while Sergio stood over the grill, telling him all about his deep-sea fishing trip, snapping the tongs he was using to flip the steaks as he described the jaw and teeth of a shark he’d caught.

When the steaks were done, Sergio put them onto plates and poured him and Luka glasses of wine. Luka hauled himself out of his chair and came to sit across from Sergio at the outdoor table. They both ate their steaks, which Sergio had seasoned and cooked perfectly. The sun was set and the air was starting to cool off, though it was still muggy.

“It made me nervous when I saw all these rumors about you going to Inter,” Sergio said between bites.

Luka frowned. “I wouldn’t just transfer without telling you.”

“That’s what I thought, but then I couldn’t stop reading about it everywhere. I want you to retire here.”

Luka huffed a laugh. “This isn’t really a retirement club. A lot of the guys on the team are getting older, though. What are you thinking about this season?”

Sergio sighed. “There’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to win anything we want. Cristiano is gone, but we have great players. You, me…maybe some of the other guys,” Sergio smiled, then got serious again. “We’ll all have to step up.” Luka nodded, ducking his head and pulling his hands through his hair, which was dry and messy. “Bleh, I don’t want to talk about the team,” Sergio said, picking up his and Luka’s empty plates, then standing up and nodding inside. “You need ice cream. Sevilla has a Europa league match tonight. Do you want to watch?”

Luka nodded and followed Sergio inside. Luka leaned into the freezer, enjoying the cool air on his face and evaluating the different types of ice cream Sergio had bought while Sergio washed their plates. Luka chose a tub of cherry chocolate. “Want to share this with me?” he asked, showing it to Sergio, and Sergio nodded. Luka grabbed one spoon, because he knew sharing sweets with Sergio mostly just meant feeling better about eating two servings on his own.

Sergio sat exactly in the middle of the couch, sprawling out to take up as much room as possible. Luka sighed quietly as he lowered himself onto the soft leather cushions, feeling the ache in his legs and feet that still hadn’t gone away. He sat sideways, leaning against an armrest with his legs pulled up in front of him. He thoughtlessly ran a hand up and down one calf, pressing into the muscle as he turned on the TV and turned to the game, keeping the volume low.

He dropped the remote on the table in front of him and flexed his toes, then slumped against the back of the couch a bit, keeping his head tilted toward the TV and taking a huge bite of his ice cream. Sergio shifted, and Luka saw him moving himself closer, which made him smile idly. Then, Sergio’s hand was on the back of Luka’s leg, right below his knee, and was straightening Luka’s leg, pulling Luka’s foot into his lap. Sergio ran his big hand down the front of Luka’s right leg, squeezing gently, then over Luka’s ankle to cup the heel of his foot. Sergio pressed a thumb into the arch of Luka’s foot and Luka jerked back without thinking.

“Are you ticklish?” Sergio asked playfully.

“No,” Luka said seriously and honestly, then wished he had said yes. Sergio moved to pull Luka’s feet back into his lap. “I don’t need that,” Luka said quickly, pulling back, unsure how to voice what he was thinking. This feels too intimate was the first thing that came to mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to say those words to Sergio of all people, who was basically the person who taught him what intimacy was. I don’t like people touching my feet sounded better, but was a lie, and Sergio would know it because he’d seen Luka getting foot rubs on the physio’s table plenty of times.

“You’re sore,” Sergio said softly, almost pleadingly, a tiny hint of rejection in his voice and on his face. He slowly reached for Luka again, resting his hand on the front of Luka’s bare knee and brushing his thumb back and forth, waiting. Luka frowned as he looked into Sergio’s eyes, which were gentle and patient. “I just want to make you feel good,” his face said. He’s not trying to get anything out of this Luka told himself. He was so used to people who did things for selfish reasons, to get something in return. Even after years of knowing Sergio, Luka still had to consciously remind himself, sometimes, to let his guard down.

He did it again now, straightening his legs so his bare feet rested in Sergio’s lap. Sergio just barely turned his lips up before turning to focus on Luka’s legs. Luka ate his ice cream as he watched Sergio. He was slower this time, wrapping both hands around Luka’s calf and moving up and down, alternately applying tight pressure and then almost none at all. He turned Luka’s leg a little and Luka let him, allowing his legs to fall open loosely. Sergio kneaded his thumbs into the inside curve of Luka’s calf, pressing hard into the ache of Luka’s muscle. Then he moved his hands to Luka’s foot again, tilting it back and forth on his ankle, then pulling on each of Luka’s toes. Luka let his head fall sideways on the side of the couch to stare unseeingly at the TV, sighing with pleasure as Sergio slowly prodded and loosened the muscles in one of his feet, then the other. Eventually he gave each of Luka’s feet a final squeeze and settled them down in his lap, resting his hands on Luka’s shins.

Luka turned his head lazily to look at Sergio, and Sergio met Luka’s eyes with a self-satisfied smile. Luka knew he must look like he felt: sleepy and relaxed and happy and sated.

“Thank you,” Luka said, leaning forward to brush his hand up Sergio’s arm, from his wrist to his shoulder. It wasn’t a particularly affectionate touch, but Luka wasn’t a particularly affectionate person, and reaching out to touch someone else always made him feel a little awkward and unsure. Sergio beamed at him like he’d just touched him as intimately and kindly as Sergio had touched Luka, though.

“You worked so hard this summer,” Sergio told him, his voice low and intimate over the quiet murmur of the game. “I am so proud of you.”

Luka pulled his legs back a bit, crossing them and scooting closer to Sergio, his folded knees pressing against the outside of Sergio’s thigh. “Do you want some of this,” he offered, holding out a spoonful of the ice cream, which was half melted. Sergio opened his mouth, and Luka obligingly fed him. “Here, I’ll get you a cherry in this one,” he said, digging around to find one of the few cherries he hadn’t already picked out, then feeding it to Sergio. Sergio kept his eyes on Luka’s face as he wrapped his lips around the spoon, chewed, and swallowed.

“Thanks,” Sergio said. He grabbed the container of ice cream out of Luka’s hand, then grabbed Luka, moving him on the couch until he was pressed side to side against Sergio, before settling his arm over Luka’s shoulders. “Tell me about the game,” Sergio said, handing the ice cream back to Luka. Luka curled his legs up in front of him, resting the pint on one knee, and focused on the game in front of them for the first time. Sergio asked Luka to do this often when they watched football together: he wanted to hear Luka’s take on what a team was doing wrong or right, what he would do if he was on the pitch, what he thought would happen next. Luka knew Sergio was great at reading games and plays on his own, but he didn’t mind having a chance to talk about the game that was one of his favorite things in the world, especially when he could do it cuddled up with two of his other favorite things.

Chapter Text

Sergio was with the Spanish National Team for the first time since the early end to their World Cup. He had been dreading it, in some ways, because it would be another reminder of how badly they’d all fucked up. But in the end, it turned out to be sort of a relief. The beginning of the season at Real Madrid had been weird. They had won almost every match so far, but when they played, things still felt off somehow. Sergio knew he wasn’t fully fit, and it was obvious that most of the other senior players weren’t either. And there was more pressure on the team than there had been in the last few years, Sergio felt, because they had to prove to everyone that they hadn’t won everything they had just because of Cris or Zidane.

So it was actually relaxing to train with his national team, whose reputation couldn’t get much worse after they’d had such a shitty summer. Plus, Sergio loved his country, and stepping onto the pitch with the Spanish football crest on his shirt made him feel proud and happy.

Spain had narrowly beat England a few days before, and were now lining up in the tunnel for their match against Croatia. The stadium was packed and loud with excitement, and the team was eager to face the country that had done so surprisingly well in the World Cup, as beating the team that made it to the final would be a big accomplishment.

Sergio led his team onto the pitch, working to keep his mind clear and focused as both countries’ national anthems were played. Then, he and Luka met in the middle of the field for the coin toss. They clasped hands, then leaned in to hug each other, and Sergio tried not to let himself melt into Luka’s touch like he normally did.

Sergio had been thinking about playing against Luka for the last few days. He knew that winning this match was important to Croatia, who were trying to regain confidence after losing the biggest match they’d ever played in, and he knew how much Luka cared about his national team. But even though Sergio would do almost anything to make Luka happy, he knew he couldn’t just roll over and let Luka beat him. So he smiled down at Luka, wished him good luck, and then tried to forget that he was playing against his best friend and instead remember that he was playing against a midfielder who was dangerous and skilled and who Sergio understood instinctually after playing and training alongside him for years.

Sergio let the game clear his head of everything but the soft pitch beneath his feet, the movements of the players around him, the white arch of the goal. Spain controlled the match basically from the beginning and scored four goals before half time. A few minutes into the second half, Sergio headed in their fifth and celebrated joyfully with his teammates, relishing in the cheers of the Spanish fans. He rarely found himself next to Luka during the game, and he managed to keep himself from thinking about much beyond the next move and how well his team was playing.

Immediately after the game, though, Sergio made his way to Luka, ready to commiserate with him and hear Luka’s quick analysis of the game, which he always gave Sergio after Real Madrid matches. He’d say things like, “You fucked up on that goal” if they won but let in a goal they shouldn’t have. “Man, their midfield,” he’d complain when he’d been run ragged in the middle of the park. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were playing,” he’d tell Sergio after a game where Sergio had scored. Sergio hugged his teammates and slapped hands with the Croatian guys as quickly as possible as he made his way across the field to where Luka stood, hands on his hips, head tilted back. Sergio called his name as he approached, bringing Luka’s disappointed gaze to him.

“Hey,” Sergio said to Luka, holding his fist out for Luka to bump dispassionately with his own. “Swap shirts with me?” Sergio asked, slipping off his armband and pulling his damp long sleeved jersey over his head. When his head was free, he saw Luka already shirtless, holding his black checkered shirt out to Sergio. Sergio smiled and took it, draping it around his neck, then handed his jersey to Luka. “Put this on,” he whispered eagerly, taking a step closer. Luka had told him before the match that they should trade shirts, and Sergio had instantly pictured Luka draped in a red Spain jersey, Sergio’s name on his back.

Luka shook his head, hanging the jersey on his shoulders instead, one long sleeve draped down his chest. “Not now, Sergio,” he said in a voice like he was talking to a needy child, his eyes looking over Sergio’s shoulder.

Sergio frowned. “World Cup hangover, no?” he said hesitantly.

Luka hummed noncommittally. “I have to clean up and do press stuff,” he said, gesturing toward the tunnel that led off the field.

“Okay,” Sergio said, thrown by Luka’s coldness. “Meet me after? I’ll wait outside your locker room.”

Luka nodded and turned to go, missing the smile Sergio aimed at him and leaving Sergio to stare at Luka’s back as he walked away.

After showering and talking to the press himself, Sergio leaned on the wall outside of the Croatian locker room for almost an hour waiting for Luka. He talked to Mateo for a while, but Mateo had always taken losses poorly, and after a few minutes he told Sergio, point blank, “I’m sorry, man, but I can’t do this now. I just want to go talk to my wife.” Sergio hugged him, wished him a good season, and let him go.

Luka eventually came out of the locker room with Rakitic and Perisic. Luka raised an eyebrow when he saw Sergio but said nothing. Perisic nodded to Sergio and Rakitic greeted him in Spanish before they turned and headed down the hall. Luka stood across from Sergio, his arms crossed over his chest, his phone gripped tight in one hand. He was wearing slim cut black sweats and a black pullover with the Croatian national team logo embroidered on the chest, and his hair was slightly damp.

“I didn’t really think you’d wait this long,” Luka said.

“Of course,” Sergio said. He reached out toward Luka to pull him into a hug, but Luka took a couple steps back, bringing him against the wall of the narrow hallway.

Sergio flinched. “What’s wrong with you,” he said more than asked, and he could hear how hard his voice was: he sounded like he was ready to fight.

“Do you think I want my teammates to see me snuggling with you after you just beat us like that?” Luka said acerbically.

On the pitch and off of it, Sergio usually felt like he understood every move Luka made without even thinking about it. When Luka took a ball onto his left foot and made some defenders step the wrong way, Sergio was ready for a beautiful, outside of the boot pass. When he fed Sergio sweets, Sergio felt that he was trying to say the same thing that Sergio wanted to say whenever he hugged Luka. When the side of his mouth quirked up, Sergio knew he was about to tell a joke. Now, though, Luka’s face was closed off and distant, and Sergio felt suddenly wrong-footed.

“I’m sorry that you lost the game, but I’m not sorry that we won,” he told Luka.

“I don’t want you to be sorry for winning,” Luka said, his voice low and cold.

“Well did you want me to just tell my team to sit down on the pitch after we’d scored one goal?” he said, his voice louder.

Luka sighed, half rolling his eyes. “No,” he said, in an exasperated voice that seemed, to Sergio, to say, I don’t even care about you enough to fight with you.

Sergio knew that he was overreacting to Luka’s behavior. He knew how frustrating it felt to lose a game, especially badly. Sergio himself had sort of a bad temper, and he’d lashed out at his national teammates at club games plenty of times. Just a few minutes ago, Mateo had more or less told Sergio that he didn’t want to talk with the captain of the team that had beat him.

Sergio knew all of that, but on top of what he logically knew was what he felt: that Luka wasn’t Mateo, and he wasn’t a random player from some other team. He was Luka, and Sergio was Sergio, and the distance Luka put between the two of them felt foreign and painful and wrong.

“I don’t know why you’re being bitchy, then,” Sergio said, and his heated words rang in the long, empty hallway.

Luka scoffed and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall behind him. With Luka’s defenses lowered, and with Sergio’s frustration vented, Sergio finally noticed the signs of exhaustion and tension he’d missed in Luka before: the purple tinge of his eyelids, the tight clench of his jaw, the slope of his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” Sergio said quickly, and Luka opened his eyes just a bit, gazing at Sergio from underneath his lashes, his head still tilted back. “I know how much pressure you're feeling, and I know you don’t need me being a dick to you on top of all that. Just… tell me what you're thinking.”

Luka took a long breath, keeping his gaze on Sergio’s. “I’m annoyed. I’m sick of feeling out of shape. I want to be five years younger.”

Sergio knew there had been plenty of talk in the last few months about the last years of Luka’s career, but he was only just thirty-three, and only a few months older than Sergio, and hearing people talk about Luka’s retirement made him anxious and sad. “You just need more time to rest and get fit again.”

“We needed to win today. Or at least not lose like this.” Luka paused. “I know you needed this, too.” He raised his hand a bit, like he was going to touch Sergio, but then let it fall back to his side. “I don’t like playing against each other,” he said after a beat.

Sergio reached across the space between them to briefly squeeze Luka’s shoulder, keeping his touch quick and light to try to easy the heaviness between them. “You think FIFA would let you switch national teams still? You’re basically Spanish,” he said, resting his hand on the wall above Luka’s shoulder.

Luka just barely curved his lips. “Sorry I was ‘bitchy,’” he said sarcastically, emphasizing Sergio’s word in a way that made Sergio grimace.

“I shouldn’t have said that."

Luka sighed. “Really, I am sorry for being…for treating you badly and not like you deserve from me.” He reached out again, this time briefly cupping the outside of Sergio’s forearm before closing his eyes and slumping even further into the wall behind him.

Sergio studied Luka: the bright florescent lights above him threw shadows under his strong brows and in the hollows of his cheeks, his hair curled against his temples, his lips were… Sergio took a quick, surprised breath when he found that he’d leaned into Luka, bending the arm that was braced on the wall next to him until their faces were inches apart. Feeling his breath, Luka opened his eyes and met Sergio’s. His brows drew together and his gaze flickered between Sergio’s eyes. Back up, Sergio told himself, but he couldn’t bring his arm to push off the wall and away from Luka. Just when he was about to force himself to stumble back, Luka lowered his eyes and tilted his head, just barely, moving his chin closer to Sergio.

For all that he had struggled to understand the subtleties of Luka’s behavior earlier in the night, Sergio couldn’t mistake the slightly nervous look Luka got when he wanted to be touched, couldn’t misread the invitation in Luka’s movement. In the space of a breath he lunged forward, slamming his forearm flat against the wall, bringing his other hand to cup Luka’s jaw, and pressing his lips, desperately, to Luka’s.

Chapter Text

Luka was being stupider than he’d been in a long time. And he knew he was being stupid, but he still couldn’t stop himself from doing a hundred different things he really shouldn’t do.

He shouldn’t have tilted his chin toward Sergio’s when every inch of Sergio’s body made it clear he wanted to kiss him. Shouldn’t have yielded under the first soft, hungry touch of Sergio’s lips. Shouldn’t be bringing his hands up to grasp at the side seams of Sergio’s shirt or tilting his head further to the side to give Sergio better access or humming, needy, into Sergio’s kiss.

But Sergio made him ache with need; had somehow, without Luka realizing, gotten so far under Luka’s skin that his first thought after losing 6-0 to Sergio’s team was, I need a hug from him.

Luka hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was annoyed at how little he’d managed to help his team and at how he’d felt a step behind everyone else on a pitch with him all season. But more than anything, he was annoyed at how he’d let himself get so far in over his head with Sergio when he knew what a terrible, dangerous idea it was.

Luka shouldn’t be kissing Sergio back like this was the best kiss of his life, but Sergio’s full lips on Luka’s were just as hungry as Luka felt. One of his hands was buried in Luka’s hair, cupping the back of his head and shielding his skull from the cold hard of the wall; his other hand ran desperately up and down Luka’s neck, his thumb stroking over his throat, his jaw, his cheek, his chin, the place where their lips met.

Sergio pulled back for one second, gasping in air then letting out a trembling, stuttered breath before pressing their mouths together again, this time running his tongue sideways along the seam of Luka’s lips. Luka opened for him, giving up on what he shouldn’t do. Sergio hesitated for a moment, and Luka felt dizzy, and then Sergio touched the very tip of his tongue to the very tip of Luka’s.

Muffled voices filtered out of the locker room door just to Luka’s left, quickly getting louder. Luka shoved Sergio off him so hard and quick that Sergio had no time to resist and ended up flung on the wall across from Luka, eyes wide, chest heaving, mouth wet and open. Luka widened his eyes and waved desperately at the door to his side, hoping Sergio could get some sort of control over himself.

Sergio’s entire body was jerking with tension as he took in a long breath, fumbling to pull his phone out of his pocket and then tilting his face down at the screen, his eyes and breathing still wild. Luka evened his own breathing as much as he could and felt around his empty pockets for his phone before seeing it on the floor. He stooped to get just as two members of the technical staff came out of the locker room.

“Oh, Luka!” one of them greeted him happily as Luka stood.

“Hi,” he told the two men, glancing at Sergio, who didn’t look up from his phone. Luka was glad that for that, because he trusted Sergio’s ability to be subtle right then even less than he trusted his own. The guys, who luckily seemed uninterested, both told Luka good night, one stiltedly told Sergio “buenas noches,” and they ambled down the hall and around the corner.

Luka watched them the whole way, giving himself time to regain control over his body and mind. As soon as the men were out of sight, though, Sergio stepped across the hallway, moving into Luka’s space once again, his eyes focused on Luka’s lips, his mouth parted, his cheeks flushed. He looked fascinated.

“Sergio,” Luka said gently, putting his hands on Sergio’s chest to stop him as he leaned down toward Luka’s lips again. Nearly being caught making out in the hallway of a football stadium had rattled Luka enough that he finally brought himself to put up some token resistance, but he could admit to himself that if Sergio pressed him he would easily give in.

Sergio didn’t try to push forward, though. He just gazed down at Luka for a moment before smiling, blindingly. “Luka,” he said simply, his voice content.

Luka was about to tell Sergio they shouldn’t have kissed and that they could never do it again, but he found himself weakened by how little he wanted to say any of that. After floundering for words for a moment, he finally decided to try to say something that would pivot their interaction back toward friendship. “Churu,” he said lightly, purposefully using the nickname everyone on the team called Sergio, “you’re good with your mouth.”

Sergio smiled even wider. “So are you, Lukita. That was the best kiss of my life, and not just because I’ve never kissed another guy before.”

Luka blinked. “What?”

“Your lips are so soft—”

“But you’ve had sex with a man before,” Luka pressed.

Sergio’s smile dimmed. “Well, no,” he said slowly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’ve just been with women?” Luka asked.

“Yeah,” Sergio said casually. Casually, like he wasn’t making an admission that blew Luka’s mind and made his chest ache. Sergio, who craved physical affection like no one Luka had ever known, who wasn’t at all attracted to women, who sometimes looked at Luka’s body like he was starving for it, had never had sex with another man. After a moment of silence from Luka, Sergio finally seemed to realize how shocking his words were, and he blushed. “It’s hard to sleep with other guys without anyone finding out you’re gay,” he said a bit defensively.

Luka knew that, which was why he generally dated and hooked up with women. But Luka was bi, and also sort of a loner, and Sergio was emphatically not.

“But what about when you were younger? You’re out to some of your friends back home.”

“No, I’m not,” Sergio shook his head. “I told you when I came out to you that no one else knew about me.”

“I thought you meant no one else on the team!” Luka said, his voice unsteady in a way it almost never was. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He felt like he’d been pushed off a cliff when he realized how desperate he was for Sergio’s touch earlier, only to land at the edge of a bigger cliff, which he was also promptly shoved off of.

After a long moment, Sergio hesitantly suggested, “You and I could have sex.”

Luka remembered Sergio saying something similar to him over a year ago. Then, his voice had been tinged with a youthful, naïve sort of excitement that Luka hadn’t understood at the time, and Luka had felt almost nothing in response to Sergio’s request. Luka had told Sergio, all those months ago, that he didn’t want to get involved with one of his teammates, and that hadn’t changed. But things between Sergio and Luka were nowhere near the same as they were a year ago. Just a few hours ago, Luka’s need to feel Sergio’s body against his had been like a physical hunger. A few minutes ago, Sergio’s kiss had made Luka almost forget himself. Things weren’t even the same as they had been a few seconds ago, when Luka had finally fully realized how much Sergio had held himself back, from everyone, for his entire life. Now, Sergio’s earnest, hopeful request made Luka want to get on his knees for Sergio right there in the hall, to give him something that he clearly wanted so much but had never been able to have.

“Okay,” Luka said, because he could keep from flinging himself off yet another cliff, just, but he couldn’t stop himself from peering over the ledge. He dropped his hands from his eyes and looked seriously at Sergio, who was looking down at him with eyes wide with tentative excitement. “Once.”
 

Chapter Text

“We can do whatever you want for one night,” Luka had told Sergio, looking like he was making a huge concession.

“But you want to do it, too, right?” Sergio had asked. Luka had blinked at Sergio, his expression inscrutable, then slowly nodded.

So Sergio had eagerly agreed. He wasn’t particularly happy with the one night thing, but the thought of being with Luka at all made him shudder with excitement. Luka said he wanted to give Sergio a little space before their night together, and although Sergio hadn't needed space from Luka in over a year, he thought it would be good for Luka, so he agreed to wait for almost a week after their first kiss, and they decided to meet on Sunday after they’d both gotten back from international duty and after their match on Saturday. Sergio spent almost every second leading up to Sunday night thinking about being with Luka, which meant he was terrible in training all week.

In practice on Thursday, Sergio and Luka were playing one on one against each other. Sergio was marking Luka and Luka was playfully doing step overs and lunging in different directions while keeping the ball close and controlled at his feet. Sergio tried to poke the ball away and Luka laughed, low and intimate, the same way, Sergio thought for a second, he might do in bed. Luka pounced on Sergio's distraction, kicking the ball between Sergio’s legs and running behind him to send the ball into the tiny practice net. Luka looked back at Sergio and he shrugged. “Keep it together,” Luka said archly, and Sergio thought that even this, Luka’s playfulness and knowing jokes, was better than any sex Sergio had ever had.

On the morning of the match, Sergio realized he had been distracted by thoughts of Luka again, smiling dreamily down at his breakfast, when Marcelo said, in his light, melodic voice, “What’s up with you today?” Sergio looked up at Marcelo, who was sitting across a table from him as they ate breakfast in the ballroom of the hotel they were staying in before the game. Marcelo was grinning, his hair looking crazier than normal as sunlight from the big plate windows behind him shone through it.

“Nothing,” Sergio said, then decided it wouldn’t hurt to talk with Marcelo a little. “I have a date.”

“Ooh,” Marcelo said teasingly. “And you’re nervous?”

Sergio thought for a moment. “No, I’m not nervous,” he said honestly. “I can’t wait.”

Marcelo raised his eyebrows at the excitement in Sergio’s voice. He whistled, then told Sergio, “I need to meet this woman.”

“You’d like her,” Sergio smiled. Marcelo loved Luka, and he loved Sergio, and Sergio honestly didn’t think that Marcelo would mind knowing that he and Luka were going to hook up—but he couldn’t let himself take that train of thought any further.

Marcelo’s eyes widened playfully as he looked over Sergio’s shoulder. “Hey, Luka, do you know anything about capi’s new girlfriend?”

Sergio spun around, twisting in his seat to see Luka and Gareth standing behind him, plates of food in their hands. Luka pursed his lips in thought. “I heard she has bad taste,” he said after a minute, and it was exactly the right kind of joke to make Marcelo throw his head back in easy, unrestrained laughter. Sergio rolled his eyes at Luka, and Luka smiled at him before he and Gareth sat down a few seats from Sergio and Marcelo and seemed to continue a conversation they’d been having in English. Sergio wondered if Luka was discreetly talking to Gareth about his plans with Sergio just like Sergio had done with Marcelo, but his English wasn’t good enough to make anything out with their quick words and thick accents.

Sergio managed to focus during the match, but the team still played badly. It ended in a draw, which Sergio wasn’t happy about. They’d let in a goal in the first half and he’d spent the rest of the ninety minutes screaming and waving at the other guys in his back line, sprinting around the pitch, and lunging into tackles to try to prevent giving up more. By the end of the game, he felt sore and sweaty and annoyed. He was sitting on a bench in the locker room in a towel, seething even after his shower, when Luka, already showered and changed, walked in front of him, holding out a hand for Sergio to slap, and said, quietly and quickly, “See you tomorrow,” before walking out of the door, and Sergio forgot all of the things that had been annoying him as his blood roiled with excitement.

He asked Luka to come to his house at ten Sunday night. He ordered fried rice and a bunch of other things from a Chinese restaurant he remembered Luka liked and me made sangria with extra sugar. Since he knew Luka loved dessert, he went to the baker’s counter in the grocery store where he picked up fruits for the sangria. There was a small, round chocolate cheesecake inside the case, which he thought would go well with their eclectic meal. When he’d asked the woman behind the counter for it, she’d asked whether he wanted anything written on it.

Although he was pretty sure the woman didn’t recognize him, he couldn’t very well ask her to write Luka’s name or “I can’t wait to have sex with you.” After thinking for a moment, he said, “Can you put ‘gracias’?” And the woman did, in curly writing made of white chocolate icing.

Sergio also prepped for the actual sex. He made sure he had lube and condoms. He put his softest sheets on the bed and sprayed them with a little bit of his cologne, imagining Luka smelling like him after they were together. It was stupid and impractical, but made Sergio’s heart race.

He didn’t have to think too much about exactly what he wanted to do with Luka once they were in bed. He knew what felt good with women, and he’d spent years watching gay porn and coming up with his own fantasies, many of which he thought would fit into he and Luka’s one night, as long as Luka was comfortable with them. He cleaned his house a little, even though his maid had been there just a few days ago, and made sure he was also clean and well-groomed. He dressed in dark jeans and a white button up shirt that he thought would be fun to have Luka take off him.

Luka drove up just as the food delivery guy got into his car and left. Sergio couldn’t look away from Luka as he pulled himself smoothly out of his car and headed up the walk. Luka was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, both of which fit close to his slim body. His hair was messy, and he messed it up further when he slid sunglasses back over his forehead.

“Hey,” he said, smiling up at Sergio.

“Hi,” Sergio said, reaching out to put Luka under his arm and leading him into the house. Luka slipped his arm around Sergio’s waist for a moment before pushing himself away.

“You didn’t have to get food,” he said as they walked to the kitchen. Luka settled on a stool at the kitchen island.

Sergio frowned as he opened all the carryout boxes. “I wasn’t just going to invite you over and immediately…”

“Yeah, of course not. Sorry.” Luka hummed when Sergio opened the fried rice, immediately pulling it toward him.

“Thank goodness I am feeding you,” Sergio laughed, and Luka smiled around a mouthful of rice. “But, Luka. I know we’re only doing this this one time, but I want you to know that it’s not just like some random hookup for me. I’m glad to be doing this with you, and I’m thankful that you want to be with me, too. You make me feel good.”

Luka smiled at him again, but it seemed sad. “I was surprised when you told me you’d never done this before,” he said after a moment.

“I’m not a virgin,” Sergio pointed out.

“No,” Luka said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

“I’ve slept with plenty of women. I know what to do in bed, I promise. And I’m not going to cry or something.” Sergio’s words were defensive at first, but lighthearted in the end.

“I’m not worried about that,” Luka said.

“You’ve been with men and women,” he said. “How is it different?”

“Hmm,” Luka said. “I prefer men, actually, but it’s easier with women. Less prep, and you don’t have to worry about sneaking around. I don’t know. Have you enjoyed the women you’ve been with?”

“Sure,” Sergio said quickly, and it was basically true. “They were all nice. The feeling is good either way, I guess. But I know being with you will be different. I’ve thought a lot about it… I’m so excited," he confessed. "That’s what I was telling Marcelo before the match Saturday.”

“What have you thought about doing?”

“With you?” Luka shrugged, tilting his head in a half nod. “So many things. I was wondering, though,” he said, then took a big bite of chicken and slowly chewed before asking, “do you like to top or bottom?”

“Oh,” Luka said. He swallowed. “With you, I figured I would bottom.”

“Okay,” Sergio said, his voice wild as he tried and failed to have any kind of decorum, to act like Luka’s words hadn’t brought some of his most intense fantasies about Luka to the front of his mind. Luka’s smile said, you’re a slavering dog, but I guess you’re cute. “I am dying to be inside you. But I’ve also thought about the other way, if you’d rather do that.”

Luka’s eyes flared. “Another time, maybe,” he said, then grimaced at himself. “Not really.” Sergio didn’t respond to that.

As they finished eating, they talked about their most recent game, shows they’d been watching recently, funny things that had happened in practice. When they were done, Sergio rose to put their leftovers in the fridge. He saw the small cheesecake he’d bought sitting on the shelf “gracias” written elegantly on it, and smiled as he pulled it out. He took it out of its container and placed it on a plate, grabbed two forks, and then set everything in front of Luka on the island. Luka looked up from his phone, which he’d pulled out as Sergio had been gathering everything, and he frowned at the tiny display in front of him.

“Did you buy this?”

Sergio laughed. “Yes, and I know you hate store bought dessert, but it’s good. See,” he turned the cheesecake so the text was upside down for Luka, “I took a tiny bite to make sure it doesn’t have that weird taste you don’t like.” He pointed at the edge of the cheesecake where he’d carefully cut off a thin sliver.

“Thank you for what?” Luka asked.

“For having sex with me, I guess,” Sergio shrugged, smiling and just a bit embarrassed. “I was going to ask them to write your name but I couldn’t remember if it was with a C or a K.”

Luka rolled his eyes but seemed happy enough with that explanation. They both took bites straight from the unsliced cheesecake, and Luka agreed that it was good even though it was from the store.

There was a bit of awkwardness when they finished. Sergio wasn’t sure what to say for a minute, and Luka eventually pointed a thumb towards Sergio’s bedroom. “So, you want to…”

“Yes,” Sergio said quickly, and then led Luka back to his room. Luka quickly glanced around, running his eyes over Sergio’s big, carefully made bed before he pulling his shirt over his head then leaning down to take off his socks. He hesitated a moment before stepping closer to Sergio and unbuttoning his shirt, slow but businesslike, before slipping his hands inside and spreading it to bare Sergio’s chest and stomach. Sergio quickly shucked the shirt the rest of the way off, which made Luka smile up at him. “I know you like my arms,” Sergio said.

Luka huffed a laugh and wrapped his hands around Sergio’s biceps, kneading his thumbs into muscle. “The rest of you is okay, too,” he said, leaning forward to kiss Sergio’s pec, then his nipple.

“Luka,” Sergio said, grabbing Luka’s jaw and leaning down to press their mouths together. Their first kiss, for all that it had turned Sergio on, had been sweet and over too quick. Sergio had pressed his tongue into Luka’s mouth and had a half a second to feel overwhelmed and hot and captivated before he was shoved away from Luka and forced to pretend his mind hadn’t just been shattered. Now, he wasted no time licking into Luka’s mouth and tilting his chin just how he wanted it. He felt more than heard Luka hum against him as he nipped at Luka’s lips.

Luka let go of Sergio’s arms and to unbutton his pants and slide them down. He leaned back to look at Sergio as he cupped him through his underwear and Sergio lost his breath at the feel of Luka’s hand finally on him. He took in the red of Luka’s lips and cheeks where Sergio’s beard and mouth had rubbed against him and hoped, for a thoughtless second, that some of the marks he left on Luka would still be showing when they practiced the next day. Luka leaned in to kiss Sergio’s cheek, his neck, his chest. Sergio had to close his eyes for a second as Luka lowered himself to his knees, pressing his mouth, wet and open, to each ridge of Sergio’s abs, then to the tattoo of an eagle that peaked out from the waistband of his underwear.

“Put your hands in my hair,” Luka told him, and Sergio scrambled to comply, to do anything Luka asked of him, as Luka sucked hard at the ridge of muscle by Sergio’s hip. Luka pulled Sergio’s underwear off so that he stood fully naked in front of Luka.

Sergio forced his eyes open to look down at Luka, who was lazily surveying him. Sergio had spent years working on his body, had spent thousands of dollars on his tattoos, and had been born, he thought, was a pretty nice cock, and Luka’s slow, hot gaze made it clear he appreciated every inch of Sergio.

And as Luka suddenly leaned in and licked a stripe up the underside of Sergio’s achingly hard cock, Sergio couldn’t think of a single thing he appreciated more than Luka, on his knees, his mouth hot and generous. After a few more teasing licks, Luka took Sergio, all at once, deep into his mouth.

Sergio made a sound that was a cross between a whimper and groan and one of his knees actually buckled. He tightened his fingers in Luka’s soft hair and listened to the hot, wet sounds of Luka’s mouth and watched as Luka’s lips stretched and moved over him. He got close more quickly than he would have liked and used the hands buried in Luka’s hair to gently pull him off.

Luka wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and looked up at Sergio, blinking innocently like he was asking, oh, did you like that? Sergio was gasping and panting down at him. “Fuck, Lukita,” he said, and Luka grinned, standing up.

Sergio reached for Luka, pulling him close for a kiss with a hand on the back of his neck and unbuttoning his jeans. He shoved Luka’s pants down and pulled Luka against him, reveling in the feeling of so much of Luka’s bare skin touching so much of his. “Lie on the bed,” he gasped against Luka’s mouth, and Luka had to push himself out of Sergio’s hold to do so.

Sergio watched Luka’s round ass, still covered by his white boxer briefs, as he walked a few steps to the bed and then gracefully laid down on his back, one knee cocked to the side, his hand propped under his head. Sergio squeezed the base of his cock as he took in the sight of Luka’s pale skin against Sergio’s sheets, of the tight planes of Luka’s body, of the shape of his cock through his underwear.

He covered Luka’s body with his own, pressing a few quick, deep kisses to his mouth before shimmying down, pulling Luka’s underwear down and off, then coming back up to rest on his elbows between Luka’s legs, eyes glued to Luka’s hard cock. “You’re so pretty,” Sergio said after staring for a long time.

“Okay, now you’ve wooed me. I guess I’ll let you suck my cock.”

Sergio laughed and, not for the first time, thought about how thankful he was for Luka. He couldn’t imagine being so comfortable with anyone else, couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else this much, and couldn’t think of anyone who would make him laugh when he was so edgy. With that in mind, he touched the flat of his tongue to the tip of Luka’s cock. Luka breathed in sharply and ran his fingers through Sergio’s hair, pushing some of the longer strands back off his forehead.

Sergio took the base of Luka’s cock in his hand and pulled it down to meet his mouth. He wrapped his lips around the tip and sucked, then slid down a bit further, swirling his tongue against the head and starting to pump his hand. Sergio knew he wouldn’t be able to take Luka very far into his mouth, and Luka was clearly happy enough with what he was doing, tightening his fingers in Sergio’s hair and breathing quickly above him.

Sergio reveled in the taste of Luka on his tongue, in Luka’s quiet but needy breaths and groans. After sucking on Luka’s cock for a few long minutes Sergio tasted salt on his tongue and realized it was Luka’s precum. He pulled off and let himself hold it on his tongue a moment, considering the taste, before swallowing.

Luka gently pulled on Sergio’s hair to make him look up into his eyes. “What do you think?” he asked.

“I like eating your cum,” Sergio said honestly, and Luka’s whole body jerked—his fingers tightened in Sergio’s hair, his mouth dropped open, his hips thrust, and his cock bounced against his stomach. Sergio’s eyes widened, eating up Luka’s reaction.

“Ah, Serigo,” Luka moaned. “I meant, just, what do you think of everything. Do you like this?”

“I love it,” Sergio said. “Can I keep going?”

Luka ran the fingers of one hand over Sergio’s cheek. “Yeah.”

Sergio pressed kisses up Luka’s cock—some chaste and some open mouthed and sloppy—and then down. Luka moaned and tilted his hips up a bit. Sergio licked at Luka’s balls, then sucked them into his mouth one by one. He rubbed his face between Luka’s thighs, loving the feel of his skin, the taste of his sweat on his tongue, the scent of him.

“Okay,” Luka commanded after a bit, pushing Sergio’s head away. Sergio went, with one last lick at the head of Luka’s cock, which made Luka huff a breath and smile. “You’re good in bed,” he told Sergio, which made Sergio gleam with pride. “Get me ready for you?” he asked, and that made Sergio throb.

Sergio quickly rolled off Luka and grabbed a condom and a bottle of lube from the drawer of his bedside table. He laid next to Luka, this time on his side, and gripped Luka’s hip, turning him to his side to face Sergio. Luka hitched his knee over Sergio’s hip, rubbing his cock against Sergio’s, and Sergio moaned and thrust against him before forcing himself to pull back.

Sergio took his time opening the bottle of lube and coating his fingers, trying to regain control over himself. "Tell me if something hurts,” he said, and Luka nodded up at him. Sergio was always aware that deep down Luka was warm and loving, but he so often held himself back. Right now, though, his expression was open and tender and sweet in a way Sergio had almost never seen it.

Sergio reached behind Luka, stroking his fingers between the cheeks of his ass and over his hole, covering him with lube. He looked at Luka the whole time, and when Luka arched and clenched his jaw in impatience, he slid a finger inside of him, which made them both gasp. Luka was tight and slightly tense at first, but as Sergio curled his fingers and stroked he quickly relaxed and let Sergio open him up, mouthing and sucking at Sergio’s chest as he rode his hand.

“I’m ready,” he gasped when Sergio had three fingers in him.

Sergio pushed Luka to his back. He rolled on the condom and settled himself between Luka’s thighs, pushing them apart with his palms. He paused to take in Luka, his skin delicate under Sergio’s darker, tattooed hands, his body willingly spread out for Sergio, his cock hard and red against his stomach, his eyes heavy lidded as they roamed over Sergio’s body. For all the times that he’d done a similar mechanical act, he’d never been so enraptured with every muscle and movement and breath of a person he slept with before.

Luka bucked his hips, impatiently, raising an eyebrow at Sergio. “Okay,” Sergio said, gripping the base of his cock with one hand and palming the back of Luka’s thigh with the other, opening Luka even further for him. He slid slowly into Luka, keeping his eyes fixed on Luka’s reaction, pausing to give him time to adjust when his lips twitched or he tensed. When he was fully inside, Sergio groaned. Luka’s hot tightness was perfect and too much and so, so good, and Sergio wished he could tell Luka, but all he could do was groan again, this time in the shape of Luka’s name.

“Sergio,” Luka replied, sounding just barely more contained than Sergio. Sergio leaned forward, slipping one arm around Luka’s shoulders and holding Luka’s leg up and out with a hand behind his knee. He kissed Luka, and Luka kissed him back, hot and sloppy, as Sergio started to slowly thrust into him.

Having sex with Luka was the same basic movement, the same friction and heat that sex always was, but in every other way, it was incomparable. Because it was Luka under him, moaning his name in his scraping voice, touching him and looking up at him, his pupils blown wide and black. Luka, his best friend and teammate and the only person who knew every one of Sergio's secrets.

Sergio lost himself in the feel of Luka’s body, the sounds of Luka’s quiet cries, the feel of Luka under, him, around him. Luka pulled his lips away from Sergio's and trailed his mouth down his neck. "Touch me," he gasped after a while, and Sergio dropped his hand from Luka’s thigh and brought it up to wrap around Luka's cock, stroking him quickly. Luka wrapped his leg around Sergio's back, pressing his heel into Sergio's ass and tilting his hips up rhythmically to meet Sergio's. "Fuck," Luka said, and squeezed himself around Sergio's cock. Sergio gasped and thrust fast and desperate into Luka and tightened his grip around his cock, and Luka came, breathing Sergio’s name and spilling in his hand as he shuddered and clenched beneath him.

Sergio came right after, moaning Luka’s name, his face pressed against Luka’s collarbone, his open mouth panting hot, wet breaths there. He stayed there, buried in Luka, pressed against every sweaty inch of him, for long minutes. Eventually, Luka brought his hands up to Sergio’s head and ran his fingers gently through his hair, over and over again.

Sergio eventually forced himself up and off of Luka. He stood to bring the condom to the bin in the corner of the room. Luka rolled onto his side, putting his back to Sergio, and grabbed a tissue from the nightstand to clean himself up. Sergio held out his hand for the tissue, and Luka paused for a moment before giving it to him to throw away.

Sergio got back into bed and curled up behind him, putting an arm over Luka’s waist and flattening his palm against Luka’s chest. He nuzzled into the back of Luka’s neck, loving the soft tickle of Luka’s hair on his cheeks. Luka relaxed immediately back into Sergio, letting his hips fall against Sergio’s and bringing one of his feet to rest on top of one of Sergio’s.

They were quiet for a long time, until their breathing was deep and slow and synchronized. Sergio tried to search for words for a while, but then gave up and just let himself feel the closeness with Luka and hoped Luka could feel him.

Luka eventually rolled over to face Sergio, smiling with his mouth closed. “Are you definitely gay, then?”

“Yes,” Sergio laughed, “very.”

Luka smiled wider at that, then closed his eyes and yawned, pressing himself into Sergio’s chest. “Can I sleep here?” he asked.

Sergio had expected that Luka might try to leave shortly after they had sex, to make sure Sergio knew where the boundaries between them were. But Luka tonight was softer than Sergio had ever seen him, and his quiet request made Sergio’s chest ache. “Of course,” Sergio said, and he tried to put everything he felt for Luka into his voice. Luka hummed against Sergio’s chest, and stilled, his body slackening, and Sergio followed him into sleep without even realizing it.

The next morning Luka woke Sergio up with a gentle elbow to the ribs, pushing Sergio off of his back and climbing out of bed. Sergio blinked dazedly as he was greeted with the sight of Luka’s bare ass as Luka gathered his clothes from around the room. “Good morning,” Sergio said.

Luka squinted as he ran his eyes up and down Sergio. “We have practice. You should shower,” he said, his voice even lower and rougher than normal with sleep. Sergio got out of bed, and Luka’s eyes landed on his dick, which was clearly interested in showering with Luka. “Can I shower in the guest bathroom?” Luka asked meaningfully.

Sergio scrubbed himself quickly in the shower. Luka, he decided, was amazing at football and blow jobs and casually putting distance between himself and Sergio.

After they’d both showered and dressed, Sergio made Luka eggs and sickly-sweet coffee, and they ate quickly and mostly in silence, Luka staring thoughtfully into his mug.

"You've wanted me for a long time," Luka said after a while, and Sergio nodded quickly in agreement. "Was it what you expected?"

It was life changing, Sergio thought. He said, "It was so much more than I would have thought, Luka." Luka nodded and went back to staring at his coffee.

Sergio and Luka finished eating and walked out of the house together, and Luka waited while Sergio locked the door. Sergio followed Luka to the door of his car, and they stood still and separate for a second before Sergio leaned forward and hugged Luka, his arms braced tight around his back. Luka immediately wrapped his arms around Sergio’s back, too, and he let Sergio hold him for long moments without pushing him away, until finally Sergio made himself pull back. He looked down at Luka, then leaned in to kiss his cheek, his heart fluttering, as it always did, at the way Luka tilted his face up to him.

Sergio thought of how much Luka had made him feel, of how much pleasure he’d given him, of the cheesecake. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, then smiled down at Luka so that his words didn’t feel so heavy. Luka laughed, pushing Sergio toward his car.

“See you in ten minutes,” Luka said, nodding in the direction of the field, and they both got in their cars and drove, separately, to training.

Chapter Text

I’ve fucked him, Luka thought, watching from his place on the bench as Sergio lined up to take a penalty. Except that wasn’t really true; not because it had really been Sergio who fucked Luka but because ‘fucked’ wasn’t at all the right word for what they’d done.

Sergio approached the ball with his stuttering run, dragging his toes through the grass until he saw the goalkeeper move, then slamming the ball forward into the middle of the net. He ran to the corner flag, clenching his fists and shouting, and Luka thought that for almost anyone besides himself it would be impossible to imagine this same man kneeling between Luka’s legs, pressing his palm over Luka’s heart, mouthing sweet words against Luka’s skin.

Even though he had known how sweet Sergio could be, Luka had never expected the sex with him to be so gentle that Luka would be left helpless to do anything but cuddle into Sergio’s chest and spend the whole night there when he’d meant to dress and go home. Luka had meant for the sex to be just like all the other contact between them—something they could give to each other, as friends, that they would both take pleasure from. He knew that sex was more complicated than hugging or kissing, but he also knew that even without sleeping with him, he had spent the last years becoming more intimate with Sergio than he’d ever been with anyone. Despite their closeness, which their teammates teased them about and which was strange even to Luka, and despite the fact that Sergio had told Luka he was attracted to him over a year ago, they had been able to stay friends. For all that they might have been casually interested in each other sexually, Luka had been sure that neither of them wanted to get romantically involved with each other.

But Sergio had treated Luka like he was courting him the other night, and Luka had been too caught up in him to tell him to stop. He had fed Luka his favorite foods, worshiped his body, told him he was pretty, looked at him in a way that made Luka ache. Luka had told Sergio he was good in bed, and it was emphatically true. He wasn’t just good at one thing—at sucking cock or fucking Luka or kissing. Every moment in bed with him felt like being loved and taken care of and wholly appreciated. Even today, days after they hooked up, Luka had been unable to push away as Sergio had held him in a long hug and dug his fingers deep into his hair as they were warming up before the match.

As the game continued, the guys next to Luka on the bench quietly watched. The whole team was tense today. They’d had a terrible run of games ending in Lopetegui, the coach who had only started training with them a few months before, being fired. Luka was glad to be rested for a game, but he also wanted to help his team show that with a new coach they would be able to start winning again.

They ended up winning the match 2-1 without Luka’s help, though. Luka went into the locker room and changed out of his warm ups and into jeans and a sweater. He was talking with Karim about the beautiful match winner he’d scored when warm, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, lifting him slightly off the floor in a backwards hug. Luka gripped Sergio’s tattooed wrist with one hand and just let himself rest there, with his back pressed to Sergio’s front and Sergio’s chin resting on top of his head as he continued what he’d been saying to Karim.

Karim wasn’t smiling openly like had had been before, though. He raised his eyebrows as he continued looking at Luka, then gave Sergio the same expression before pointing with his chin to the busy locker room around them.

Karim was so quiet and unassuming that Luka sometimes forgot how smart he was. But, like a lot of quiet people, Karim said a lot with a very little, and right now his intense eyes and the pointed raise of his eyebrows said, you’re being careless. Sergio and Luka stiffened and pulled away from each other at the same time.

Luka didn’t look at Sergio, who he could feel standing just behind him. “I don’t care about that,” Karim said quietly, clearly reading the panic that Luka assumed was on both their faces. “Other people do.”

Luka nodded at Karim, and Sergio reached around Luka to slap Karim’s shoulder before walking away. Luka was back at home after the match when Sergio called him.

“Fucking Karim,” Sergio said lightly after Luka had hastily said hello.

“We can’t keep acting like we have been,” Luka responded, his voice much tenser than Sergio’s.

“You don’t have to freak out for me,” Sergio said calmly, seeming surprised by how anxious Luka was. “I thought someone else knowing would be terrible, but with Karim I realized I don’t really care. Especially with the guys on the team.”

“Sergio, no. You have to be more careful.” Luka couldn’t even begin to explain all the reasons why that was true. Because although Sergio’s limited experience suggested otherwise, coming out to people, even to guys who you’d played alongside for years, could be terrible. Because it would ruin their careers. Because he and Sergio couldn’t be together and it was stupid to let themselves pretend they could. Luckily, Sergio heard the desperation in Luka’s voice.

“Okay, Luka, don’t worry. I’ll back off you a bit when we’re around people.” Luka agreed and told Sergio goodnight before quickly hanging up. Before tonight, the thought that someone would be able to tell that Sergio or Luka were into men by watching them with each other had never crossed Luka’s mind. In sleeping with Sergio, Luka had let himself have something he desperately wanted, and he’d managed to convince himself, for a few days, that he’d been able to give himself that one night and then move on without any lasting consequences. But Karim’s words tonight had been a reminder of how poorly things could go if Luka kept letting himself take liberties like he had.

***

Luka had doubted Sergio’s ability to hold himself back from Luka, but Sergio had surprised him. He’d hugged and teased Luka in training, but in the same way he would touch any of his other close friends on the team, and no one, including Karim, seemed to pay them any extra attention.

So to reward Sergio, and also himself, Luka allowed Sergio to come with him to France for the Ballon D’or ceremony. No one seemed to think it was strange, because it was well known that Sergio and Luka were good friends and it made sense that Luka’s captain would be there to support him. Luka and basically everyone else in the world knew that Luka was going to win, but he was still nervous to talk in front of so many people and to dress in a suit and mingle around. These parties were sort of fun, Luka thought, especially when he was hanging out with Sergio and Marcelo or other people from his team, but they also made Luka feel like he was pretending at being something he wasn’t. He’d earned this award in grass stained, sweaty football kits, and to accept it he had to wear a bow tie.

Sergio was much more comfortable than Luka, which was pretty much always the case. Forty minutes before the ceremony started, he knocked on the door of the decadent hotel suite Luka had been given, wearing a white suit jacket and black pants. “You look great,” he told Luka as soon as he’d opened the door.

“You always look good in white,” Luka told Sergio, moving out of the doorway to let him step into the room. Sergio reached out to grip Luka’s shoulder, briefly kneading the muscle there.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“I don’t like making speeches,” Luka said. “They want me to do it in English.”

“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Luka nodded. “Tell me?”

Luka sighed, but he did want to know what Sergio thought. He’d read the speech to his parents and sister over the phone and they’d told him it was perfect, but Luka was unconvinced. He pulled out the piece of paper he’d painstakingly drafted his speech down on and read it to Sergio, haltingly translating it into Spanish as he went. Luka avoided looking at Sergio, because reading it to him when they were the only two in the room felt weird. He finally glanced up when he finished to find Sergio beaming at him so wide that he immediately looked away, blushing.

“It’s really good,” Sergio told him. He took a step closer to Luka, and the wide sitting room of the hotel suite made the foot of space between them feel like even less.

“Thanks,” Luka said casually, busying himself by folding the paper and putting it back in his pocket.

“Luka,” Sergio said intently, and Luka made himself look at him. “I’m so happy for you. I want to make sure you know how much you deserve this.”

Luka tilted his head in a sort of nod. He knew that he was a great footballer and had had a great year, and for all the controversy about the award going to him and not Ronaldo or Messi or even Griezmann, who he’d have to sit next to during the ceremony, Luka was excited to win.

Sergio put a hand on the side of Luka’s neck and Luka realized that he’d moved even closer as Luka had been preoccupied. He leaned forward and kissed Luka’s cheek right below his eye, then pressed his lips to the arch of his nose, and then softly, briefly to Luka’s mouth. He pulled back, but the breath between them could hardly be called space.

“Can I do something for you?” Sergio asked, in a voice that made it clear exactly what ‘something’ was. Luka closed his eyes and took a slow breath. Luka had been expecting this from Sergio ever since they’d slept together, but Sergio had let their friendship return easily back to the way it had been before, and they’d rarely talked about their night together in the last few months. Now, though, it was a weight between them.

“Sergio,” Luka said, and his voice was enough to make Sergio sigh a slightly frustrated breath through is nose and step back. He opened his mouth to say something, but then his eyes caught on Luka’s and held. Luka thought his face probably showed everything he felt: that Sergio had undone the barriers between him and Luka so carefully and thoroughly that all he would have to do to make Luka give into him now was ask one more time in his sweet voice or drop to his knees on the plush hotel carpet. And as Sergio closed his mouth and nodded, Luka also figured that Sergio could clearly see how terrified Luka was by all of that.

“Okay, Luka,” Sergio said softly with understanding. He took Luka’s face between his hands and kissed him on the forehead, because the boundary of he and Luka’s relationship was drawn only an inch away from what Sergio was asking for, but Luka couldn’t let himself step over it, even though he knew that Sergio was nothing like Aron, or like anyone else Luka had ever known. “Let’s go downstairs,” Sergio said, making his voice cheerful and light. “I’m excited for everyone to see the greatest player in the world on my arm.”

Chapter Text

When Sergio slept with women, he had always been left feeling physically satisfied but with a wide crack of loneliness in his chest. Spending the night with Luka had been astounding. Sex with him was almost entirely different than all of the other sex Sergio had had in his life. But now they’d had the one night Luka had allowed them and Luka had cleanly pulled back, Sergio was left feeling off balance. At times, he thought of the closeness and pleasure he’d had with Luka and ached for it, but he was also wary of pushing Luka. Luka had acted mostly like his normal self, but at times he had looked at Sergio like he was begging him to back off, like he had before he won the Ballon D’or.

From the beginning, when he’d first held Luka in his arms and wanted him, Luka had snapped Sergio’s control like no one else he’d ever known. He’d gotten better at handling the neediness he felt for Luka; had spent the last few months trying to give Luka space. Karim figuring out something was going on between them had freaked Luka out more than Sergio would have thought, so Sergio had been careful not to touch Luka in practice in ways that would make their teammates think he and Luka were anything more than friends. And, really, they weren’t, because they hadn’t done anything since their one night together. Sergio hadn’t even tried anything with Luka until they were alone in a hotel room before Luka was given the Ballon D’or, when Sergio had found himself too fascinated with Luka to not come on to him. But Luka’s face when Sergio had indirectly asked if he could make Luka come had been scared, and Sergio had backed off as quickly as if he'd been burned.

But after months of holding himself back from Luka, Sergio had used up all of his self-control. He wanted to have sex with Luka almost more than he could breath, but he also just wanted to feel close with Luka, to joke with him and touch him and not worry about putting more distance between them.

Sergio and Luka shared an elaborate hotel room during the Club World Cup. After the final, they sat on their beds, happy but tired from the victory. Sergio was sprawled half on his back, his weight on his elbows, his legs hanging off the side of his bed that faced Luka’s. Because he figured there was no reason for pretense in front of Luka, he wore black boxer briefs and nothing else. Luka sat opposite him, back propped up on a pile of pillows taken from both their beds, one knee pulled up and his other leg hanging lazily off the bed, wearing a white t-shirt and underwear the same color and shape as Sergio’s, which, for some reason, made Sergio’s breath catch.

Luka was scrolling through his phone, kicking his heel occasionally against the base of his bed. Sergio held his phone upright against his chest, but every ounce of his attention was on Luka. They had the lamps next to their beds on but the overhead lights off, and in the warm light, with his hair messy and curling on his forehead and his thighs and calves bare, Luka was not straight from Sergio’s fantasies but something entirely better, realer; unimaginable.

So, gracelessly, he told Luka, “You look hot,” reaching a leg forward to kick his shin, then grimacing, afraid he might have made Luka uncomfortable.

Luka blinked up at Sergio blankly and followed his look with teasing words spoken in a disinterested voice. “Do awards and hotel rooms turn you on?”

Sergio just stopped himself from smiling, dropping his phone onto the bed. The vulnerable look that Luka had worn in the hotel in France was nowhere in sight.

Sergio shook his head. “Midfielders,” he said, “and Croatians.”

“You would love my friend Ivan,” Luka replied coolly.

“Yeah? Do you think he’d be into me?” Sergio asked, sitting up fully and tightening his stomach. Luka’s eyes trailed over him, slow and assessing.

“Eh. He would say you’re compensating for something with all your muscles and tattoos.”

“Could you put in a good word for me, then?” Sergio asked innocently while spreading his thighs deliberately.

Luka rolled his eyes and smiled. His eyes flickered to Sergio’s crotch, where his cock was half hard just from looking at Luka and hearing his low voice in the quiet of their room. Luka stopped smiling and jerked his gaze away. He reached behind himself to shove his pile of pillows to the top of his bed, leaned over to shut off his lamp, and laid down on the bed, his back to Sergio. “Night,” he said, and Sergio blinked at the darkness.

“Good night,” he said after a moment.

The next morning, Sergio scrambled around the room in half darkness to catch an early flight. He was flying to his parents’ house directly from the middle east, so he and Luka wouldn’t see each other until after the holidays. Sergio and Luka roomed together once in a while at away games, and they were both usually quiet and slow in the mornings as they gradually forced themselves awake. Luka’s flight wasn’t until later in the day, but Sergio’s movements woke him up, and he sat on the side of his bed, quietly eating pancakes he’d had brought up from room service, as Sergio gathered all of his things and packed his suitcases.

“What do you want for Christmas?” Luka asked him as Sergio was setting his suitcases next to the door and looking for something he’d forgotten to do that would keep him in the room a bit longer.

Sergio glanced up at Luka, who was still rumpled from sleep and looked somehow both adorable and unbearably sexy. “I haven’t really thought about it,” Sergio said, which was true. “A sweater. Those cupcakes you make. Books.”

Luka nodded and wiped his hands on a napkin before standing up. “Are you leaving now?” Luka asked, and because Sergio hadn’t found any excuse to stay, he nodded. Luka took a few quick steps toward Sergio and before Sergio could reach for him he wrapped his arms around Sergio’s neck and pulled him into a tight hug. Sergio put one hand on the small of Luka’s back and the other in Luka’s hair. Luka held him for a just moment before he pulled back, pressing a quick kiss to Sergio’s chin before telling him goodbye. Sergio said bye and wheeled his suitcases out the door thinking that getting a hug from Luka, who he touched almost every day, shouldn’t have make him feel so unsteady, until he realized he couldn’t remember the last time Luka had hugged him first.

A few days after getting home, Sergio went Christmas shopping with his mom. He loved buying presents for people, and it was he and his mom’s tradition to do all of their shopping, except for for each other, together. He bought things for each of his family members and some for his teammates. He paid attention to the things his mother pointedly looked at for herself so that he could come back and buy them for her later.

“Do you think dad would like this?” he asked his mom, holding up a shirt that was gaudy even by Sergio’s tastes but that his dad would definitely wear.

“Sergio, put that down,” his mom said, wide eyed, and then laughed with him.

“Okay, how about for Karim?” he asked. His parents had met most of his teammates in passing, and his mother followed all of them diligently on Instagram and had listened to plenty of Sergio’s stories about them over the years.

“Definitely,” she said.

Later, Sergio found himself looking at a watch under a plate of glass. It was beautiful and gold and ungodly expensive and had a little sign next to it saying that it could be engraved. He thought of Luka as soon as he saw it, but it seemed like maybe too much, and he knew that his mom would think that too if she saw him buy it.

His mom came up behind him and peaked over his shoulder, and he looked sideways to see her raise an eyebrow. No one in his family wore watches.

“Who are you getting that for?” she asked curiously. Sergio blushed and rubbed his neck, which was something almost no one other than his mom would have been able to make him do. He had thought about coming out to his parents while he was home for the week. Although they were both a bit conservative, his father in particular, and it might make them uncomfortable, Sergio didn’t think they would react too badly. And he could feel how good it would be to be out to them. Before he’d come out to Luka, he hadn’t really realized how good it would feel to have someone know he was gay. And although being gay in the world of football had always made him feel like he was wrong somehow, sleeping with Luka had felt like the rightest thing in the world. His mother knew him, and she was looking at the price next to the watch just like he was. If he told her he wanted to buy it for Luka, it would be like telling her everything he felt for Luka, too.

“I might not get it. I was thinking Luka would like it.”

His mom tilted her head and looked back down at the watch. “I bet he would,” she said casually, and Sergio’s heart beat hard in his chest. Then, chuckling, “I remember he liked his watch.”

“Oh,” Sergio said. “I forgot about that.” Years ago, not long after Luka and Sergio had become friends, his parents had come to one of the team dinners Sergio hosted. They’d mingled with all of his teammates, but Luka had come early with an almond cake. His mother had quizzed Luka on how he’d made it and where he’d bought his ingredients and Luka had answered her questions, glancing occasionally at his watch as he waited anxiously for the rest of the team to arrive to take some of the attention off him. But during dinner, Sergio had watched as Luka walked up to the empty seat on the other side of his mother, who sat next to Sergio. Luka had shyly asked her if he could sit with her and had spent the entire meal talking with her. Then, he’d gently placed a square of cake on her plate and watched her take a bite. She had chewed slowly and thoughtfully, then smiled at Luka and patted him on the cheek, which made Luka smile.

After dinner, Sergio’s mom had told him that Luka was sweet and that his cake was perfect and that he checked his watch too much. Sergio had thought at the time that it was nice that his new friend was getting along with his mom. Now, though, Luka meant infinitely more to him than he had back then, and Sergio’s mind whirled as he thought about Luka and his mom’s interactions all those years ago and then, like a stupid teenager, imagined Luka coming to his house now, baking alongside his mom, being friendly with her in the slightly awkward way Luka always was with older people. He imagined him passing out sweets he’d made to Sergio’s nieces and nephews. Talking to Sergio’s dad with his unique, accented Spanish and telling him his jokes, which were already like an old man’s.

“I think I’ll buy it for him, then,” Sergio said, and his mom nodded.

On Christmas morning, Sergio sat at the kitchen island drinking coffee with his mom, enjoying the moment of quiet before their family members started pouring into the house when Luka sent him a text with a picture of himself sitting on a couch, his hair staticky, grinning and wearing an oversized sweater that was a mess of white and red shapes. “Merry Christmas. My grandmother made me this sweater. It’s supposed to look like the Croatia kits, but she can barely knit and she’s half blind. It’s like something you would wear, no? Miss you.”

“What are you smiling at?” his mother asked from her seat across from him. After a second of hesitation, Sergio turned his phone toward her. He waited, just a bit tense, as his mother focused on the screen for a moment as she read the message and took in the picture of Luka, then looked up at him, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “That is exactly something you would wear. You should ask Luka to commission one for you.”

Sergio smiled. “I’ll ask if she can do the Spain kit," he joked, then started typing a response to Luka.

“You could have brought Luka with you,” his mom told him after a moment.

Sergio blinked up at her. “I would love to have him here,” he said honestly.

“I could tell you cared about him when we watched the World Cup final,” his mom said pointedly, and Sergio almost laughed as he thought that she was the third person who’d guessed he was gay before he’d ever said anything about it. “I think your father will be surprised at first, but we love you. And I want to get to know Luka better to make sure he’s good for you.”

“You would like him,” Sergio said, because responding to the other things she’d said felt like too much. “He loves to bake. He’s funny and so smart. But we’re not together.”

His mom squinted at him. “Does he not…like men?” his mother asked, and it was the first sign that she was at all uncomfortable with everything she’d figured out about Sergio in the last few days.

Sergio sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “No, he does. He doesn’t want to get involved with someone he plays with.” And Sergio hadn’t at first, either.

His mom raised and eyebrow at him as she finished her coffee. “I find it hard to believe that you can’t convince him to look past that. Have you told him how amazing you are?” Sergio laughed and his mom smiled before leveling him with a serious look. “Sergio, you can’t expect everyone to know how you’re feeling just by looking at you like I can. You have to tell people what you want from them to see if they want the same thing.” The doorbell rang before Sergio could respond, and his mother kissed his cheek on her way to answer the door.

Before following her and getting wrapped up in the happiness of his loud, crazy family, Sergio quickly texted Luka, “Merry Christmas! I love that sweater on you. I wish you were here." And then, thinking of his mother’s advice, a red heart.

Chapter Text

“Sergio,” Luka breathed as Sergio’s lips pressed bruisingly against his, as his tongue licked wildly into Luka’s mouth, as their hips ground rhythmically together. He meant his gasp of Sergio’s name to say, I didn’t come here for this, but it came out like, please make me come, and Sergio’s moan against him said, happily.

He had come to Sergio’s house to eat dinner and exchange the Christmas presents they’d bought each other. Luka picked up takeout on the way to Sergio’s and carried the food and the gifts he’d got in paper bags as he walked up to Sergio’s porch. Sergio opened his door before Luka could rearrange the bags in his arms and knock, and, smiling widely down at Luka, took one of the bags and put an arm on Luka’s back, rubbing his palm up and down as he pulled Luka into the house.

It had been less than two weeks since they’d seen each other, but Luka had missed Sergio more than he had when they’d been apart for the entire summer. It was another sign, as if Luka needed one, at how out of control their relationship had gotten.

They ate on the couch, their gifts for each other sitting on the coffee table in front of them. Sergio had sat himself down inches away from Luka, his knee leaned to the side to press against Luka’s. His eyes lingered, warm and soft, on Luka’s face. They talked about funny things their family members had done while they were home, gifts they’d gotten, food they’d eaten. Luka had just flown back to Spain the day before, and he still felt slightly off; homesick and in the wrong time zone and thinking in the wrong language.

He let himself sink into Sergio’s soft, deep couch, into the warmth of Sergio beside him, soothing and comfortable. They took turns opening their gifts. Luka got Sergio a couple of novels, a bottle of nice Croatian wine, and a bag of cookies and cakes that he’d baked and frozen before going home for Christmas. Sergio was great at receiving gifts, because he was genuine and loving and his smile made you feel like each present he opened was the exact thing he was hoping for. He tore open paper with relish, then slowly peeled it away like he was uncovering a gem. He read the descriptions of the books excitedly, looked closely at the label of the wine, tasted a few of the cookies and moaned and rolled his eyes back in his head, making Luka laugh. Then, he pulled Luka tight against his side with one arm and kissed the top of his head and said into his hair, "Thank you, Luka."

Luka was not good at opening gifts. He always felt like his reactions were not right, even when he loved the things he was given. Sergio got him a Spanish cookbook, all about baking, and told Luka to flip to the back, where there were handwritten recipes from his parents and grandparents and siblings stuck into the clear plastic sleeves. Luka blinked at it. He opened his mouth and licked his lips and still couldn’t say anything.

“My mom says to try her magdalena recipe first,” Sergio told him, not seeming to mind his silence, then pressed the other wrapped box into his hand. Luka let himself be silent and carefully tore the wrapping paper, then opened the small black box he’d uncovered.

Inside was an intricate gold watch, the hands spinning in a slow, smooth circle. Luka glanced at Sergio, who was smiling slightly nervously. He tried to smile reassuringly, but he felt watery. He looked back down and gently took the watch out.

“It’s engraved,” Sergio told him, his voice hesitant. Luka flipped the watch over and turned the back of the face to the light to read, in delicate script, con todo mi cariño, Sergio.

“Sergio,” Luka said, turning to look at him. Sergio’s hair was unstyled and messy in a way it never was in public, and his beard had gotten a little long. His eyes were open as they searched Luka’s face. Sometimes Luka would look at Sergio and be hit with how objectively attractive he was. Now, though, he looked at him and felt how he did when he saw the front door of his house after being gone for a long time.

Luka let his forehead drop to Sergio’s shoulder. He breathed in the familiar smell of Sergio’s cologne and pressed his lips against Sergio’s arm through the sleeve of his shirt. He meant to do it for just a second, but he found himself lingering there, his lips and nose against Sergio, his eyes tightly closed.

“Luka,” Sergio said, questioning. He ran his hand along the side of Luka’s head, brushing his palm over his ear and burying his fingers in his hair. Luka leaned into the touch and kept his eyes shut.

Luka knew he was being shitty. He had spent months trying to discourage Sergio from acting like this, to force himself to stop wanting to do this, and now he was nuzzling his cheek into the palm of Sergio’s hand like a pet, even though nothing had changed except for Luka’s willpower.

Sergio maneuvered Luka’s face away from his arm. Luka felt Sergio move, felt the heat of him further away, then closer. Luka opened his eyes to look up at him, a breath away. Sergio only met his gaze for a second, but Luka could feel the neediness that Sergio saw in his eyes. Sergio huffed out a breath, a smile tilting his lips, and then he cupped Luka’s chin with both hands and leaned forward and kissed him.

Sergio’s lips were warm and soft and greedy, and Luka moved his mouth desperately against Sergio’s, sliding his tongue against Sergio’s lips and then, when they opened for him, into his mouth. Sergio trailed one hand all over Luka’s body: down his chest, across his stomach, up his thigh, around his ribs and along the plans of his back. The gentle slide of his palm made Luka shiver. Sergio's other hand was wrapped around Luka's wrist, where Luka would wear the watch he’d bought him, where his words and name would press against Luka’s skin.

Luka brought his free hand to Sergio’s ribs, pressed his palm against the muscle there and pulled Sergio closer. Sergio mumbled against Luka’s lips and, with his body and his hand, pushed him back onto the couch and laid on top of him. He hooked a leg around Luka’s and used it to move his body under Sergio’s so they were pressed against every inch of each other.

The movement pushed their hips together, and the hard length of Sergio’s cock rubbed against Luka, making him ache and thrust up. Sergio lost his breath and Luka breathed in. Sergio let go of Luka’s wrist and brought his hand to grip Luka’s hip. Luka spread his legs for Sergio, let his head fall back on the couch and moaned at Sergio’s wet mouth sucking at the skin of his neck.

Sergio hummed against Luka’s collarbone and Luka whimpered Sergio’s name and they writhed against each other until Sergio came with a sharp cry and a bite to the tendon in Luka’s shoulder and Luka followed him, panting, his head pressed back into the couch and his eyes open and blinking at the ceiling.

Sergio nuzzled against Luka’s neck and Luka let his hands rest against Sergio’s back as he tried to catch his breath. “I haven’t done that in a while,” Sergio said playfully.

“What?” Luka asked, his mind blank from pleasure.

“Come like that. Like a teenager.” He could feel Sergio smile against him. He could feel his own come, cooling in his pants. He jerked his arms off Sergio, thinking, fuck fuck fuck and tried to sit up. After a moment of confusion Sergio rolled to the side and stood, and Luka quickly climbed to his feet, too.

“Luka, please don’t,” Sergio begged. Luka felt a fraction of the chaotic need to put distance between them fade as he turned to comfort Sergio. But Sergio met his eyes and shook his head before Luka could say anything. “No,” he told Luka, grimacing at Luka's expression, which must have looked like pity. “Let’s just talk later.”

Luka couldn’t begin to think of anything to say anyway. He gathered his phone and the book and watch Sergio had given him. Sergio followed him to the door and watched as he slipped his shoes on. Luka opened the door and paused, turning to Sergio. “See you tomorrow,” he said. Sergio nodded and watched Luka until he got to his car, then half waved, lit from above by the bright porch light, and shut the door.

***

Sergio had a team dinner at his house a week after training started again. Luka and Sergio had hardly talked in training after Luka had left Sergio’s house. Sergio had come up to him a few times, but Luka had tried his best to avoid being alone with him. Sergio called him once, but when Luka had ignored it, he hadn’t called again, which Luka appreciated. The day before the dinner, Sergio had found Luka briefly on the sidelines in practice, with their other teammates not far from them, and had seemed to consciously keep space between himself and Luka.

“I don’t like this,” he said simply, and Luka could see that he didn’t. His eyes were tired, his eyelids tinted purple, and his shoulders were high and tense. He asked Luka to come to the dinner early so they could talk, and Luka agreed, because he didn’t like how things were between them either.

Luka had been consciously building and rebuilding the walls between himself and Sergio ever since they had sex, or maybe even before that. But the desperate way he’d given in under Sergio’s lips and hands and hips clearly showed how badly he was failing. Sergio was too good for Luka to fight against. It was hard to value any of the objections he’d initially had about starting a relationship with him when Sergio made him feel better—more loved and wanted and cared for—than anyone he’d ever been with. Now, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about what it would mean to lose Sergio.

As far as Luka knew, he was not only the first but the only man Sergio had even come close to having sex with or even coming out to. Luka had thought he was in love with the first girl he had sex with, too, but they’d gotten sick of each other a month later. If he let himself be with Sergio and then they broke up, it would hurt, achingly badly, and Luka would lose his best friend.

Luka made magdalenas using Sergio’s mom’s recipe and brought them to Sergio’s fifteen minutes before the rest of the team was supposed to arrive. Sergio opened the door at his knock, and Luka could immediately smell spices and roasting meat. He showed Sergio the plate of magdalenas, and Sergio nodded and smiled with his lips closed.

He led Luka into the kitchen, and Luka set the plate down and stood at the counter and opened his mouth to give Sergio the speech he’d planned, which was about self-control and self-denial and all the reasons it was a bad idea for them to be together.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Sergio said before he could speak. “I get it, and I agree with you—it’s stupid because we work together and we’re best friends and this could fuck that up.” Luka nodded, but Sergio obviously wasn’t finished. “That’s if things go badly. Here’s what I think would happen if things go well.” He paused to hold Luka’s gaze, his eyes intense. “I fall in love with you and you fall in love with me. We’re not apart during summers and holidays. You don’t have to worry about putting distance between us. I don’t have to pretend I don’t have feelings for you. We have a ton of sex.”

Luka gaped at Sergio. Sergio watched him, silent and patient. “I have to think,” he finally told Sergio, and his accent was so thick he thought for a moment that he’d accidentally said it in Croatian. Sergio reached up to cup Luka’s cheek, his eyes kind even as he gave Luka a smile that looked more like a frown.

“Of course,” he said.

***

Sergio was, as always, good at giving Luka space. He chatted casually with Luka during practice and only gave him the lightest, simplest of touches: a hand on his shoulder as he walked passed him, a high five, a pat on the back. Luka spent days thinking about what Sergio had said. He thought of Aron, of other relationships that had. He made himself think, like he had been for months, about how much it would hurt if things didn’t work out. He thought of how difficult it would be to be together when neither of them could be out. But, mostly, he thought about the heady, intoxicating picture Sergio had painted. Of Sergio saying, “I’d fall in love with you.” Of the way Sergio had kissed him the other day, of the night they’d had sex, of the heat and comfort he felt every time Sergio touched him. Of the way Sergio’s hand in his hair could always gentle him when he felt nervous.

He’d already admitted to himself that his main concern was that Sergio would get sick of him quickly, and hearing the seriousness and affection in Sergio’s voice as he told Luka his plans for them had appeased even the part of Luka that worried constantly.

So Luka had basically decided to let himself have everything he wanted so badly to have with Sergio when they were lining up in the tunnel before an away game against Espanyol. Sergio came out of the locker room last and walked by the everyone on the team, high fiving them or dropping kisses onto their cheeks. He held out his hand to Luka, fingers spread, and Luka slapped it. Sergio had his serious game face on, but he smiled softly for a second when Luka met his eyes, although his own eyes were slightly sad and tired. Luka watched Sergio continue down the tunnel and stand straight at the front of the line, his shoulders rolled back. He thought, he looks so good in red. Sergio reached down to take the hand of the kid standing beside him, leaning down to hear something the boy said, then tipping his head back and laughing before ruffling the kid's hair. Luka thought, okay, I give up, and sighed, and actually felt his heart beat, slow and hard, in his chest. Then they started walking out onto the field, and he realized that he’d have to wait at least forty five minutes to tell Sergio.

But not long into the first half, they won a corner kick and Sergio stood open at the back post. I’ll give him an assist, Luka decided. He looked to Toni and made himself open, and Toni passed him the ball from the corner flag. Luka scooped the ball over the defenders between himself and Sergio, slow and precise, so it came down right on top of Sergio and gave him plenty of time to head it exactly how he wanted. The ball came off Sergio’s head in another slow, careful arc and landed inside the goal so neatly that the crowd breathed in as one before breaking out into cheers.

Sergio ran toward the corner flag and Luka ran towards him, smiling stupidly. Their other teammates stood around Sergio but parted for Luka as Sergio looked at him over their heads, his gaze intent. Luka jumped into Sergio’s embrace, bringing his thighs up around Sergio’s hips. Sergio caught him and held him, his body warm, his heartbeat quick in his chest, so close to Luka’s that he could feel it. Luka leaned back to kiss Sergio on the cheek, and felt Sergio’s lips press lightly into the side of his neck. He brought his mouth to Sergio’s ear.

Chapter Text

Sergio felt the breath of Luka’s whisper in his ear, but didn’t hear what he said over the shouting of the crowd and the way his blood rushed in his ears. Luka had leapt into his arms, had wrapped himself around him intimately and tightly and in front of everyone, and his touch felt like an answer to everything Sergio had said to him in his kitchen a week ago. Sergio was breathless.

He let himself hold Luka for as long as he could convince himself was okay with tens of thousands of people watching them, then let Luka down from his arms and forced himself not to think. His heart, already quick from the adrenaline of the goal, was racing at the idea that maybe Luka had decided to be with Sergio, but if he let himself go down that road he’d be useless the rest of the match and the goal Luka had set up for him would mean nothing when he let Espanyol score against them.

They were winning at halftime, so there was really no need for a big speech, and Solari generally didn’t have much to say to them anyway. Luka sat on the floor in front of his locker, his legs sprawled in front of him. Karim was on a table getting his leg rubbed and Gareth was still warming up on the pitch, so there was space enough around Luka for them to talk. Sergio walked across the locker room as causally he could considering he'd never felt less casual in his life. He sat down on the floor next to Luka, their shoulders and knees almost touching.

“I didn’t hear what you said during the game,” Sergio said, his voice quiet and nervy and hopeful. Luka flickered his eyes around them and then settled them back on Sergio.

“I thought about things,” Luka said, his voice low, and Sergio leaned forward into the dark green of Luka’s eyes. A few of their teammates laughed loudly at a joke someone had told. Luka pulled back a bit. He rolled his shoulders and made his voice less intimate. “Do you want to talk about this now?”

Sergio needed to talk about it now. He said, “Yes,” almost before Luka had asked. The days he’d spent waiting for Luka—giving him space after Sergio had followed his mother’s advice and bluntly told Luka what he felt and wanted—had been torture. He had spent hours doing anything to keep himself from thinking what if Luka decides he doesn’t want me? “Please tell me what you’re thinking.” Luka licked his lips, but stayed quiet, and Sergio ground his teeth, frustrated by the way Luka always felt he had to hold himself back, even with Sergio. “Tell me yes or no,” he whispered.

Luka looked up at him and braced his hand against Sergio’s chest. Sergio felt the pads of each of Luka’s fingers, felt the warm brush of Luka’s breath over his neck, they were so close, as Luka said, quietly, seriously: “Yes.” Sergio leaned toward Luka without thinking, and Luka’s fingers pressed harder into the muscle of his chest, restraining, careful. “Later,” Luka said. And Sergio couldn’t do anything but nod.

They were called to go out onto the pitch just after that, and Sergio managed to quiet his thoughts for most of the second half. When Luka came to close to him on the pitch, though, or when he caught sight of Luka’s flopping hair, his thoughts were pathetic, chaotic, needy.

He got off the field as quickly as possible after the final whistle, hardly sparing a thought to the win, and showered and changed as fast as he could. Then, he waited outside the locker room for Luka, his head leaned against the wall and his eyes closed, purposefully slowing his breathing. Don’t just attack him like you did the other day, he told himself. You can’t come in five minutes like that. Make it good for him.

After long minutes, he heard steps and felt a hand at his waist and blinked his eyes open to see Luka, hair wet, looking up at him, his face unreadable. “Please come home with me,” Sergio said right away, his voice breathless and desperate despite all his careful breathing and despite all the time he’d spent trying to make himself not act like he wanted to devour Luka. But still Luka smiled up at him and nodded yes, and then tilted his head to their cars.

They drove separately, Luka behind him, and Sergio smiled like an idiot at Luka’s headlights in his rearview mirror the whole way.

They parked side by side and Sergio was barely out of his car before Luka was jumping into his arms again, wrapping his arms and legs around him just like he had during the match, and this time kissing his lips. Sergio kissed Luka back, starving for the taste of him, and held Luka close against him with his hands on his ass. He started to lean back against his car but Luka put a hand out and pushed away from it, breaking away from Sergio’s lips for just a second. “Inside,” he said, then leaned in and flicked his tongue into Sergio’s mouth. Luka was light and easy to carry in normal circumstances, but making his way up the walkway and unlocking the front door with Luka’s tongue buried in his mouth and his hard cock pressed against Sergio’s aching erection was a nearly impossible task.

As soon as they got inside, Sergio slammed the door shut, pressed Luka back against it, and slipped his hand under the back of Luka’s sweatpants, digging his fingers hard into the curves of his ass and grinding their hips against each other. For long moments he pressed Luka back against the door while Luka sucked on his neck, until his cock was leaking in his pants and Luka was shuddering in his arms, and then, finally, he remembered what he’d told himself outside the locker room.

He stepped away fast, and Luka’s legs fell from around his waist and he just barely landed on his feet. He raised an eyebrow at Sergio that said, what the fuck, and Sergio grinned at him, and thought how every bit of Luka made him happy.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he said, and then turned to go so he wouldn’t be tempted to get caught up with Luka along the way. Luka followed closely behind him but seemed to have the same idea as he kept his hands to himself during the short walk to the bedroom. Sergio turned on the lamp next to his bed and turned to see Luka pull his shirt over his head. He caught Sergio’s eye and gestured impatiently for him to strip, too, before bending to pull down his pants. Sergio undressed quickly and gracelessly, then looked back to Luka, who stood at the other side of the bed, naked and flushed and hard and smiling at him.

Sergio was suddenly hit with how much it would hurt him to lose Luka. He knew Luka had been worrying about it for months, but Sergio had been so concerned with actually having Luka that he hadn’t thought much past getting him. Now, he paused his hungry perusal of Luka’s body to look at his face. “You want to be together for real, right? Me and you and no one else. And not just as friends who have sex or something like that.”

Luka put a knee on the bed and smiled, his eyes creasing, and Sergio felt the tightness that had gathered in his chest loosen. “Yeah,” Luka said. “I want that.”

And then he reached for Sergio and pulled him down onto the bed beside him and they were kissing again, skin to hot, sweaty skin. Luka put his thigh between Sergio’s and pressed gently up, and Sergio groaned and thrust against him. “I want you,” he breathed into Luka’s mouth, and Luka rolled away from him suddenly, leaving Sergio blinking his eyes open and scrambling to grab Luka's waist and pull him back. But when his eyes focused in the dim of the room, he saw Luka kneeling on the bed his back arched and his elbows pressed into the mattress.

He looked sideways at Sergio. “Have me.”

“Fuck, Lukita.” Sergio rolled over and harshly pulled open his bedside drawer, picking out a bottle of lube and tossing it on the bed.

“You don’t need to use a condom,” Luka said over his shoulder, “if you don’t want to.”

“No?” Sergio asked, his voice thick and his cock aching at the thought of being bare inside Luka, at the trust in Luka’s voice. Luka nodded, and Sergio crawled behind him.

He coated his fingers with lube, speechless, and stared at Luka’s mind-numbing, mouthwatering ass. Luka bucked back toward him restlessly after a moment, and Sergio would have smiled if he wasn’t painfully aroused. He rubbed his thumb, softly, over Luka’s hole, and Luka gasped. He circled his thumb gently, then pressed inside. “Please,” Luka said, his head hanging down, his voice already sounding destroyed. “Please fuck me.”

Sergio couldn’t imagine ever not giving Luka exactly what he asked for, especially if it was his cock and especially if Luka used that desperate voice. But he also couldn’t imagine hurting Luka. So, as quickly as he could, he worked another finger inside of Luka, and then another, scissoring them and pushing them in and out and rubbing against Luka’s prostate.

Soon, Luka, who most of the time was so reserved and composed, was rocking himself back and forth on Sergio’s fingers, moaning Sergio’s name over and over. It was heady. “Sergio, please, I’m ready, please,” Luka keened after a moment.

“Man you’re needy in bed,” Sergio said, pulling his fingers out, and Luka huffed a pained sounding laugh.

Sergio lubed up his cock and then brought it to Luka’s ass and pressed slowly inside. Skin to skin with Luka, with nothing between them, with Luka's ass gripping his cock, with his name on Luka's lips and Luka's name on his, Sergio felt closer than he ever had to another person. He brought his hands to Luka slim waist as he pushed deeper into him, the warmth and wetness and tightness overwhelming.

He paused when he was fully inside Luka, letting his head tip back and just feeling. Luka squeezed himself tight around him and then he was thrusting fast and hard and pulling Luka back to meet his thrusts.

“How is it,” Luka gasped as Sergio pulled him back onto his cock, “that you’re supposed to have never done this before but you’re so fucking good at it.”

“How is it that you can talk right now,” Sergio asked, the friction of Luka's ass around his cock making his eyes roll back.

But then the only noises Luka made were gasps and stuttered breaths and hums and Sergio couldn't stop talking; couldn't stop telling Luka how good he felt and how perfect he was and much Sergio wanted him, all as he rocked into him, fast and hard, his grip tight on Luka's waist.

Luka adjusted himself, shifting onto one elbow so he could reach between his legs to stroke his cock, his elbow sticking out to the side, bending and unbending in quick, jerky motions, and that made Sergio come, a hot rush from his spine to the tip of his cock, his come pouring out into Luka's ass, which clenched around him as Luka came, too.

Afterwards, Luka folded his arm behind his head and let his eyes drift closed for long moments. Sergio laid on his side next to him, letting himself soak in the fact that he had Luka in his bed, sated and happy and content and everything he’d ever wanted. He flattened his palm on Luka’s chest, framing his nipple with his thumb and forefinger, and just looked at his hand there. He slid his fingers down Luka’s side, the soft warmth of his skin making him sigh, then back up to brush over the hair under Luka’s arm. Luka let his head fall to the side and peaked his eyes open to look at Sergio, a curious half smile on his lips.

“I love your body,” Sergio told him simply.

Luka kept smiling, blinking lazily. “I never question that with you. I don’t think anyone else has ever been as into me physically as you are.”

“I like everything about you,” Sergio said then, in case Luka somehow didn’t know. “You’re cute,” he said, leaning over to press a quick kiss against the side of Luka’s chest. “I like your accent.” He hefted himself onto his elbow to lean over Luka and place small kisses all over the soft skin and hard muscle of Luka’s chest. “You let me be more myself than anyone I’ve ever known. You bake for me. You’re a great listener.” He kissed Luka’s left nipple, then his right, tilting his head to look up at Luka, who was gazing lazily down at him with a look of affection that Sergio felt in his chest. Sergio swallowed, and when he spoke again his voice was thick. “I was lying when I said I would fall in love with you.”

Luka tensed under his lips, his eyes were intense on Sergio’s as he continued, pushing past the nervousness that came because he’d never said this to anyone and meant it this way. “I love playing with you.” He kissed Luka’s abs. “I love watching matches with you.” He kissed his hip. “I love touching you.” He leaned over to press his mouth to the crease of Luka’s thigh, then briefly rubbed his cheek along Luka’s soft cock. “I love your cock.”

"Sergio," Luka said, his voice strained.

Sergio rested his forehead against the soft skin of Luka’s stomach. After a long, heavy moment he said to Luka, “I love you."

Luka cupped Sergio’s chin and tilted his head back. Sergio met Luka’s eyes, which were warm. He didn’t expect Luka to say he loved him. He knew how strange it was for him to have said it just hours after he and Luka had officially gotten together. But everything that he’d told Luka he felt was true, and then some, and saying I love you to Luka hadn’t felt wrong or strange; it had felt like his skin was hot and cold and once and that his throat was constricted and like his heart was full.

“Come up here,” Luka said, putting slight pressure on Sergio’s jaw to pull him up so they were face to face. Sergio heaved himself up the bed to lie next to him. Luka blinked at him, turning onto his side and frowning slightly. He swallowed hard and his took his gaze off Sergio’s as he forced himself to talk. “I wish I could be as open as you are.” He seemed to struggle to find words before continuing. “You’re so kind. And… gentle, and you—” Sergio stopped Luka with a quick, hard kiss.

“You don’t have to,” he said, making his voice light. “It would make me cry, anyway.” Luka chuckled, but Sergio was afraid that he actually would. He felt overrun with everything he felt for Luka; could feel the weight of his emotions pressing against his breastbone and the backs of his eyes.

“Okay,” Luka said, and scooted into Sergio’s embrace, pressing his nose against Sergio’s chest an inhaling. Sergio put an arm around Luka’s waist and pulled him closer, gripping the small of Luka’s back. He rubbed his chin on the top of Luka’s head, feeling Luka’s soft hair catch on his stubble. I love him, he thought, and was glad Luka didn’t see how goofily happy his smile was.

Chapter Text

For the fifteenth day in a row, Luka woke up to Sergio’s slow breathing against his hair and to Sergio curled warmly around him. His arm hung over Luka’s hip, his thigh pressed between Luka’s, his chin nestled on top of Luka’s head. Luka breathed in the familiar scent of Sergio as he blinked open his eyes and smiled at the tan skin of Sergio’s throat.

Luka had never spent more than two weeks in a row with someone he was seeing before, but he was trying to give Sergio everything he could. When he felt vulnerable and overwhelmed, he forced himself to not put distance between him and Sergio and instead tried to tell Sergio what he was feeling or just to look at Sergio in a way that Sergio knew meant he needed a hug, and Sergio’s arms around him made him feel comfortable and loved and at home. Outside of training and matches, Sergio and Luka had spent all of their time together, cooking and eating and playing card games and cuddling on the couch watching football and having the best sex of Luka’s life.

A few nights ago, he’d sat between Sergio’s legs, leaning back against his chest and resting his arm on one of Sergio’s bent knees, and watched some Premier League game neither of them cared about. Luka had been eating ice cream and occasionally feeding bites to Sergio over his shoulder. They’d asked each other questions that reminded Luka of the kind kids on his youth team would ask each other on the bus to and from matches.

“What’s your favorite Spanish word?” Sergio asked him.

“Hmm. Ballena.”

Sergio laughed. “Why?”

“It’s pretty. Who’s your favorite player?”

“Modric,” Sergio said immediately.

“Yeah?” Luka smiled. “What do you like about him?”

“He makes these insane outside the boot passes. He’s calm even if there’s four defenders around him. He sucks my cock.” Luka laughed and tilted his head back on Sergio’s chest to look at Sergio, who was grinning down at him. “Where should we go on vacation this summer?” he asked Luka.

Luka hesitated. “Croatia?” he asked, and as soon as he said it Sergio was wrapping his arms closer around Luka’s chest, pulling him even closer.

“Yes.”

Luka cleared his throat. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do in bed?”

“You.” Luka rolled his head against Sergio’s chest to make him give a real answer. Sergio chuckled and shifted just slightly behind Luka. “I would love for you to fuck me,” he said slowly after a long moment.

Luka’s cock had jumped at the idea. Sliding into Sergio’s tight ass would be heaven, and Luka loved that Sergio was willing to give himself to Luka like that. “That would be fun,” he said noncommittally, then turned around, set his pint of ice cream on the coffee table, yanked Sergio’s sweatpants down, and swallowed his cock.

He’d had to distract Sergio because he knew how much it would have hurt him if he had an idea of why Luka wanted to wait: because Sergio’s request had suddenly made Luka think of all of the firsts he’d already taken from Sergio, and then he’d thought, I want him to still have something to himself if we break up. He knew with absolute certainty that this was a thought that would never have occurred to Sergio, who had given himself to Luka so trustingly and completely that it made Luka’s chest feel heavy. Luka wanted, badly, to just tell Sergio that he loved him and then move in with him and spend every day for the rest of his life waking up next to him and fucking him and being fucked by him. But for all that Sergio had slowly and carefully taught Luka how to he comfortable with him, Luka still found himself thinking, sometimes, about all the ways their relationship could go wrong. They couldn’t even kiss each other in public without worrying about hurting their careers, and they certainly couldn’t move in together or even keep driving to training together. And Luka wasn’t even sure he’d be in Spain next season.

Luka would love to stay at Madrid until he was ready to retire, but clearly the team needed something new. Luka was the oldest player on the squad, and his contract would expire in a year, and he was expensive. He knew it would make sense for Madrid to try and sell him.

Lying in bed now, Luka looked at Sergio—his mussed hair, his plush lips, his softly closed eyelids, his whole face peaceful and sweet and so insanely hot--and felt the thought of leaving him like a physical pain. But Luka knew it was a possibility, and it would be worse for him and Sergio if he pretended it wasn’t.

Still, he wanted to give as much of himself to Sergio as he could while they were together. He did what he’d done every morning for the past two weeks. When he wakes up, he planned, I’ll tell him I’m so glad Madrid bought me, not because of the trophies but because I met him. I’ll kiss him and tell him he’s brave and strong and loving and that he’s the one who made this city thousands of miles from my family and my country my home. I’ll tell him how looking at him like this makes me feel like I just got tackled hard, but in a good way. Every day he woke up before Sergio, and every day he stayed in Sergio’s arms planned exactly what he wanted to say to Sergio when he woke up. But then Sergio would blink open his eyes, and his hands would tighten around Luka and he would smile sleepily and Luka wouldn’t be able to talk.

It had been just over a year since Sergio told Luka he was gay after spending his entire life hiding his sexuality from every single person he knew. But he’d spent every moment since then being himself with Luka in every way. He’d had sex with Luka without an ounce of shame, had been unphased to learn that his mother and Karim knew he and Luka were together, had told Luka, over and over, that he loved him. Luka could count the people he’d said “I love you” to on his fingers. And although he was out to his family, thinking of the look Karim had given him and Sergio in the locker room still made him feel anxious.

Sergio’s eyes twitched behind his eyelids and he rolled his big broad shoulders, which Luka had learned he always did when he was waking up. Luka tightened the arm he had flung over Sergio’s side and leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, which made Sergio smile, his eyes still closed. And again, Luka couldn’t say the things he wanted to badly to say to Sergio.

Sergio opened his eyes and pulled Luka’s lips to his for a hard, open mouthed kiss. He kept his eyes open on Luka’s the whole time, and the intensity there made Luka shiver with heat. Sergio pulled away after a long moment. “Good morning,” he said, his voice scratchy. He squeezed Luka against his bare chest in a long, tight hug, and Luka pressed himself into it. Luka loved the hardness of Sergio’s body against his, loved the heat of his soft skin, loved feeling the bulges of muscle in Sergio’s arms, loved having Sergio’s bigger body surrounding him.

Without even planning to, he told Sergio, “I love this,” and then almost laughed in relief at finally being able to say a fraction of what he felt. Sergio breathed out heavily and crushed Luka even closer, bringing his leg up to curl around Luka’s.

“Mm, cariño, I love this, too,” Sergio said, his voice quiet and intimate as he rubbed his cheek on Luka’s hair. They lay like that for long moments while Sergio woke up gradually, before Sergio said, “Okay, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do.” Then he started to crawl down the bed. Luka grabbed his arm and put a hand on his hip and tried to pull it up towards his head.

Sergio blinked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded and laid down on his back so his hips were level with Luka’s head. Then, he pulled and lifted Luka so he was straddling Sergio’s chest. Luka sucked in a quick breath and tensed unconsciously for a second before letting his thighs relax around Sergio. He looked down at Sergio’s cock, which was already hard and resting against his abs.

He felt Sergio’s palms slide up the backs of his thighs, then cup his ass. Then, Sergio pushed at one of Luka’s thighs with an elbow, making him spread his legs further apart, and pulled his cheeks apart. “Oh,” Luka said, realizing what Sergio wanted to do just before he felt Sergio’s tongue, wet and curious, brush lightly over his hole.

Sergio was good at this, just like he’d been good at every single thing he’d done to Luka so far. His mouth was hungry and attentive, his tongue teased Luka open and then licked inside, and Luka could do nothing but pant above Sergio and close his eyes and feel and not think.

When Luka was shuddering and whining above him, Sergio reached for Luka’s cock, but Luka knocked his hand away clumsily. “Don’t need that,” he barely managed to say, and that made Sergio moan and tongue his ass with even more enthusiasm.

Luka fell forward to mouth sloppily at Sergio’s cock, which was thick and hot and leaking. He hadn’t told Sergio before, because he hadn’t wanted to pressure him or weird him out, but there were few things that made him come quicker than being rimmed.

Sex with Sergio always felt like the most natural thing in the world. From years of friendship, Luka knew every one of Sergio’s facial expressions; from playing with him, he knew the subtle movements of his body; from making him come over and over again in the last two weeks, he knew what every sound Sergio made meant. And from the way Sergio touched and looked at Luka, like Luka was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, he knew, without question, that Sergio wanted him.

Luka could feel his orgasm building, was shaking with the tension of it, so he took Sergio's cock deep into his mouth and sucked hard and brought his hand up to stroke Sergio's balls. Sergio moaned and bucked and Luka whimpered, and they came at the exact same moment.

***

The first leg against Ajax was a disaster, and for some reason Luka was the only one in the team that realized it. Ajax’s midfield had trampled Luka, their squad was young and wildly energetic, all of their players’ eyes were sparkling at the end like they’d come away with the exact result they wanted. Real played lazily and got lucky and acted like they were on their way to the final. Minutes before the end of the game, Sergio got a yellow for fouling an Ajax player so casually that it was immediately obvious he did it just to get the card.

Luka loved his team, but over and over this season he’d clenched his teeth on the field and wondered how many times they would be tricked into sloppiness by a two-point lead. Luka usually kept himself controlled on the pitch and in training, but nothing frustrated him more than seeing his teammates make stupid, avoidable mistakes. Luka had gotten held up talking to a young Croatian guy from Ajax, after the game, so when he walked into the unfamiliar, harshly lit Ajax locker room it was already full of guys celebrating to quick, loud Spanish music. Sergio was immediately in front of him reaching out to wrap his arms around him. Luka pressed his hands to Sergio’s bare chest and shoved him back. Sergio held himself firm in Luka’s space but leaned back a bit and frowned. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You took a fucking yellow?” Luka said, his voice harsh and loud enough that the teammates near them quieted and looked at him and Sergio.

“I’ll just be out for the next match and then I’ll have a clean sheet for the semis,” Sergio said, sounding unbothered.

“So you’ll watch the next match from your couch and that’s it?”

Sergio frowned. “Nacho will play,” he said slowly. “Lukita, it will be fine.” He brought a hand up to smooth over Luka’s cheek and Luka knocked it away.

“You’re our captain! The whole team relies on you and you’re not even going to be there.”

“Karim will be captain,” Sergio said, his voice slow and carefully regulated. “You can help him. Nacho and Rafa will be fine. It will be an easy match; we don’t even have to win.”

“We barely fucking won today!” Luka yelled, and Sergio took his arm and steered him, and Luka let himself go, noticing the tense silence that had fallen over the room. Sergio led him to a closet full of balls and cleaning supplies and towels and shut the door behind him.

“Luka,” he said gently, reaching out again. Luka let him cup his jaw, but kept his teeth clenched and his eyes hard. “I’m sorry you’re upset, but I know you guys can play well without me. The next match will be fine.”

“We shouldn’t need to play without you.”

Sergio tilted his head. “I know you think I’m stupid right now, but you have to know I would never do something like this with me and you. I’d never make a decision that would effect us without talking to you about it.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Luka hissed, “I’m not suddenly incapable of thinking about football with you just because we’re fucking.” He’d been here before; had been with guys who suddenly started treating Luka like he was irrational and emotional and helpless as soon as he let them fuck him. He knew, deep down, that Sergio wasn’t doing that, that he would never treat Luka that poorly, but he wasn’t thinking about that.

Sergio reacted to Luka’s words like he’d been slapped. “You know I don’t think that about you, Luka,” he said forcefully. He ran a hand through his hair and took a step back, putting as much distance as he could between them in the small space of the closet. He opened his mouth, his eyes squinted and tense, but then shut it so quickly his teeth clicked. He breathed deep, in and out, and Luka did the same without thinking about it. “I’m sorry,” Sergio said, his voice soft, and slowly reached out to run a hand over the top of Luka’s head.

Luka sighed. Sergio’s slow breathing, his purposeful restraint, his hand in Luka’s hair calmed Luka, and made him realize that he didn’t want to fight with Sergio, and that Sergio didn’t deserve Luka’s anger, even if he’d done something stupid on the pitch. The post-match adrenaline drained out of Luka, and he was left feeling sore and tired and heavy limbed. “Thank you,” he said, putting a palm on Sergio’s chest. “I’m sorry I was harsh with you. This was not a good game. Let’s go back to our room and snuggle.”

Sergio choked out a surprised laugh. “If you had told me a month ago that I’d ever get to hear you say that to me I would have died.”

Chapter Text

Sergio and Luka went to a restaurant in the week after the Ajax game. They hadn’t gone out to eat since they’d started seeing each other; really hadn’t left their houses much at all other than for practice and matches. Sergio had begged Luka to let him take him out. He knew that they couldn’t act like a couple in public, but he wanted to take Luka on a date, or at least something close, and Luka had agreed, rolling his eyes at Sergio’s needy, excited insistence.

They went to Sergio’s favorite Spanish restaurant, one with quiet live music played by a few old men with guitars and low, sweet voices and with amazing paella. Sergio had requested a booth in the back corner, so Luka and Sergio were as hidden as they could get from the other customers. The lighting in the restaurant was dim, and Sergio reached up to loosen the bulb of the light hanging above he and Luka’s table to cover them even more.

Luka glanced up as the light flickered off and smiled, his face sweet and kissable. His hair was neatly combed, and he wore black jeans and a grey tee shirt that fit tight to his lithe body. Before they left Sergio’s house, Sergio had nibbled a red mark into Luka’s neck that he could still see, even in the dim light.

“You are not subtle,” Luka said, as Sergio checked him out, his own eyes on the menu and a small smile crinkling corners of his mouth. Sergio reached quickly across the table and ran a finger lightly down the arch of Luka’s nose, then put his hands in his lap before Luka could push them away. Luka narrowed his eyes at Sergio, and Sergio smiled helplessly. “What did I tell you just before we left the house?”

“I promise I’m good now,” Sergio promised. “I won’t touch you again and I’ll stop staring.” Luka looked skeptical, so Sergio lowered his gaze to his own menu, trying to look serene.

“Well, I hope you’ll touch me again eventually,” Luka said after a moment, his voice cool. “You’ve gotten me pretty used to coming every night.” Sergio grinned up at Luka and Luka tilted his head and winked. Sergio giggled, which made Luka scoff.

Their waitress came then. She smiled at each of them, her face kind but distracted. She seemed slightly frazzled by the full restaurant.

“Good evening,” she said. “Are you ready to order?” Sergio tilted his head to Luka and let him place his order before Sergio asked the waitress for a few of his favorite dishes and a bottle of red wine. The waitress said their food and drinks would be out soon and walked quickly away.

Luka’s phone vibrated on the table and Sergio saw a picture of his mom come up. Luka ignored the call and typed a quick text to her. “‘Can’t talk,’” he narrated for Sergio as he typed, “‘I’m on a date with my boyfriend.’” He pushed send, then turned the volume down and set his phone aside, smiling up at Sergio. Sergio felt himself flush and his heart strain in his chest. “She’ll love that,” Luka said.

For a long moment, all Sergio could think was, My boyfriend, my boyfriend, my boyfriend. “I can’t wait to meet your family,” he said when he finally got some semblance of control over his thoughts. Sergio knew that Luka’s mom and dad were always asking about whether he was seeing anyone, and he had been with Luka when he told his mom over the phone that he was dating Sergio. Remembering how frustrating it had been to not know what Luka was saying to his mom, he told Luka, “You need to teach me more Croatian.”

“Okay,” Luka said, tilting his head in a nod. “Did you see the picture Dani posted of his dog today?” he asked then, and when Sergio shook his head grabbed his phone and pulled up a picture on Instagram. They spent the next few minutes talking about their teammates and their various pets, then about pets they’d had or wished they’d had. He learned that when he was young Luka had played with a stray dog but that he’d never actually lived with a pet. Sergio talked about a cat his family had got when he was young that he’d hated passionately.

Their food came after a short wait, and Sergio smiled as he watched Luka try the food and nod approvingly. “It’s good, no?” he said.

“Mhmm,” Luka hummed.

"Good," Sergio said. "Now eat fast. I’m tired of not being able to touch you.”

***

Luka and Sergio stood in Luka’s bedroom after losing to Barcelona for the second time in a week, undressing for bed, silent and sad. They’d been knocked out of the Copa and lost any shred of hope of winning the league, which felt terrible. “Tell me what happened,” Sergio asked after a long silence. Usually, Luka would have some tactical thing to tell Sergio, or he would be able to pinpoint the mistake they’d made that had let the other team score.

“They were better,” Luka said, and that was it.

Sergio nodded and stripped down to his underwear while Luka did the same before stepping close to Sergio and pressing a lingering kiss on his nipple and stroking a hand down his ribs.

While Luka still seemed to have occasional, brief moments of hesitancy about their relationship, no one outside of his immediate family had ever made Sergio feel more loved. Luka was his best friend. They laughed and joked and hugged and ate together. And he was also, by far, the best lover Sergio had ever had. He had made Sergio come more times than he could count in the last month, and had let Sergio return the favor, which was just as enjoyable. While Sergio had thought, before they were together, that he might have to coax Luka in bed, or to take the lead, he was completely, blissfully wrong. Luka took what he wanted and gave Sergio what he wanted, skillfully and lovingly.

Sergio wanted him constantly. But he’d just played a hard ninety minutes. He was sore and a bit worried about pleasing Luka. “I don’t know if I can make it good for you tonight,” he confessed. “I want you,” he added. “But I’m tired. I feel…weak.”

Luka looked him up and down, then tilted his face up to be kissed. Sergio leaned down and pressed their lips softly together. Luka parted his mouth for Sergio’s tongue and in the same moment brought his hand up to cup Sergio’s balls through his thin boxer briefs. Sergio’s body bucked and his breath heaved out of him. “Hey,” he stuttered, surprised but interested. He hadn’t been lying, though: he would not be able to make love to Luka in the way he deserved right now.

“I’ll take care of you,” Luka told him, and pushed him towards the bed. Sergio went, his cock hardening even as the muscles in his thighs and groin begged him to let them rest.

Sergio sat heavily on the bed and watched as Luka finished undressing. “You want to be on top tonight?” he asked.

Luka blinked at him, his hands on the waistband of his underwear. “Yes, but not like that. Just lie down.” Sergio did, and Luka peeled his briefs off so he was bare, his cock half hard against his thigh. Sergio sighed contentedly.

Luka grabbed the lube from the drawer beside his bed before kneeling on the bed between Sergio’s legs. He pulled Sergio’s underwear off and threw them to the side. Then, he ran his dark eyes over Sergio’s body like a hot touch and wet his fingers with lube while Sergio laid motionless, feeling like he was spread out before his king.

Luka met Sergio’s eyes for a moment and smiled before dropping the bottle of lube on the bed and bringing the hand he’d coated with lube behind himself at the same time he arched over to lick teasingly at the tip of Sergio’s cock.

Sergio had heard people talk about having sex while they were sad or angry. He’d seen movie scenes where two people fucked while it was raining and they were crying and looked miserable. He knew he should be upset about the loss to Barca only a few hours ago, but with Luka’s lips wrapping around his cock and his tongue lapping and his mouth making gentle suckling noises, Sergio couldn’t feel anything other than happy and loved and so fucking turned on that his vision was blurry.

“Lukita,” he moaned, his eyes focusing on the way Luka’s arm was moving quickly back and forth as he prepared himself for Sergio. Luka hummed around his cock and Sergio bucked his hips, not even caring about the ache in his tired muscles.

Luka let Sergio’s cock slip slowly out of his mouth, then climbed up Sergio’s body to straddle his hips. He rose up on his knees, held Sergio’s cock steady at his entrance, and then slowly lowered himself down, taking Sergio inside of him in a slick, smooth slide. Sergio’s breath was coming out in pathetic stutters as soon as he was inside Luka. He tried to tell Luka how much he loved his tight ass, his muscled thighs bent at Sergio’s hips, his gorgeous cock straining against his stomach, but his rough, chaotic voice was incoherent even to his own ears. As Luka sat still for a moment to adjust to Sergio’s cock, Sergio finally managed to be coherent enough to tell Luka, “You’re perfect.”

Then, Luka started to move. Sergio gripped his waist tight and groaned. Luka was pale, slick skin and clenching heat and almost unbearable friction. Sergio’s thighs strained as he tried to hold off from coming for as long as possible, dying to feel and watch Luka come on his abs and chest first. Luka tightened his ass around Sergio’s cock, and then did it over and over again until Sergio could do nothing but blink up at him and pant and empty himself inside of Luka.

When Sergio could concentrate again, he found Luka still lightly rocking himself on Sergio and stroking his own cock with tight, quick strokes. “Come on me,” Sergio begged, and, groaning, Luka did, and the sight of his hot cum on Sergio’s tattoos made Sergio lose his breath.

Sergio groaned as Luka pulled off of him and stood to walk casually to the bathroom. Seeing his come on Luka’s thighs was an experience that Sergio didn’t think he would ever be used to.

“You need anything?” Sergio called, feeling like he should at least offer to do something other than lay limply on the bed, his legs sprawled, his sweat dripping onto Luka’s sheets. Luka came out of the bathroom with a damp cloth.

“You’re good,” he said, giving Sergio a small smile and then gently wiping his come off Sergio’s chest. “Do you need anything? Want something to drink? Are you hungry?”

Sergio was hungry and a bit thirsty, but mostly he was tired. “I want you to get in bed,” he said, and Luka did, curling a hand over Sergio’s waist and resting his head in the crook of Sergio’s arm. Not for even close to the first time since he and Luka started seeing each other, Sergio thought, this is the happiest I’ve ever been.

***

Shit.

Don’t do that again.

Fuck.

It’ll be fine. Luka will figure it out.

Fuck!

Make something happen. Work fucking harder. Why is Luka the only one still trying?

Fuck.

I should be down there.

Sergio was already sitting on a bench in the locker room when the rest of the team started coming in, dripping with sweat and covered in dirt. Dani slumped in front of his locker crying silent, furious tears. Nacho threw his shoes hard into his cabinet. Karim and Rafa sat beside each other and stared at the floor, their faces blank but their fists clenched. Sergio kept his eyes on the door, waiting for Luka, and felt like he couldn’t breathe.

No one said anything. No one touched each other. Sergio could feel his teammates’ eyes on him. He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know where Solari was.

Sergio had sat in a box and watched his teammates, his best friends, and the man he loved get destroyed. He had failed, and he could feel how much everyone knew it. Luka had known it as soon as Sergio had purposefully taken the yellow and laughed as he helped up the guy he’d tackled.

He sat still and waited for Luka, and he couldn’t breathe because he knew that as soon as he saw Luka it would be over, any maybe this time Luka wouldn’t even bother to yell at him like he had after the first leg, and he certainly wouldn’t let Sergio pull him into a closet and explain, wouldn’t go home with Sergio and lie with his head on Sergio’s shoulder—he would probably never do that again.

Sergio dropped his head into his hands and shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes. The first time he’d ever wanted Luka, they’d been standing next to a trophy they’d won because Luka had helped Sergio score right before the end. Sergio should have done that today. He should have been out there so that when Luka tried to make something happen, there was someone to help him. So he could keep his back line under control. So that his teammates had hope; so they remembered to keep playing until the ninety-second minute.

Sergio felt a hand on his shoulder and knew without looking that it was Luka. He couldn’t bring himself to look up; he kept his eyes closed as he desperately grabbed for Luka, finding him shirtless and hot as Sergio wrapped his arms low his waist and flattened his forearms on his back, parallel to his spine. Sergio pressed his forehead against Luka’s ribs and let his lips rest on his stomach. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice loud and broken and his breathing uneven.

The muscles of Luka’s stomach and back tensed, and the still locker room got somehow quieter. Sergio realized he’d fucked up again, because this was not the way a straight man touched his teammate. Sergio tried to make himself push away, to at least keep from fucking Luka over in another way, but he felt like Luka’s bare skin and slender waist were the only things keeping him on earth, and he could do nothing but wait for Luka to pull himself out of his arms.

Luka’s hand moved from Sergio’s shoulder to his hair, and his fingers slid deep into the strands, and Sergio waited for Luka to make a fist and pull, was tensed for the pain that would slide through his chest when he did. Then, Luka’s fingers stroked up Sergio’s head and pressed, soothingly, into his scalp.

Sergio lost his breath in a shuddering sigh. Luka’s hands cupped his jaw and then his skin was sliding away and his face was suddenly underneath Sergio’s bent head as he crouched in front of Sergio and rested his elbows and Sergio’s spread knees. Sergio brought his eyes to Luka’s and instead of the cold anger he’d been expecting to see when Luka walked into the room, he found concern: Luka’s mouth and eyebrows were pulled into a frown and his eyes were gentle and shining as they looked up at Sergio’s face, which was cradled between Luka’s hands.

“You’re okay,” Luka told him, his voice calm and confident.

“Cariño,” Sergio said, and then took a deep breath.

“What the fuck is this?” Sergio jumped and looked up to find who had spoken. Florentino stood in the doorway of the locker room, eyes narrow and teeth bared. Luka sighed and stood up, turning towards Perez but keeping a hand on Sergio’s shoulder. Perez’s voice was full of disgust as he looked between Sergio and Luka and said, “This is what you do now, Sergio, instead of helping your team?”

There was no use denying what had been happening, and Sergio didn’t want to, anyway. His voice loud and unsteady, Sergio said, “This has nothing to do with the team.”

Florentino shook his head. “What a disgrace,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Now I see why you’ve all been lazy all season.”

“Fuck you!" Sergio shouted. “You wasted this season when you refused to buy anyone in the summer!”

“Well I didn’t expect all my players to be fucking each other in the ass until they were too sore to play,” Florentino said caustically, and Sergio heard his words move through the room, heard his teammates mumble and breathe in sharply. Sergio tried to stand only to find that Luka’s hand on his shoulder had become a tight, restraining grip.

Florentino clearly noticed the reactions of the team; Sergio could see him tense and pause to think. Sergio knew that Florentino was always calculating exactly what he could and couldn’t get away with. He could break ties with Sergio, but not the whole squad. No matter how mad he was at them now, he needed them—most of them, anyway—going forward.

“You should leave,” Luka told Perez, his voice tense but calm, and Perez glared at him. But Sergio could see that he’d come to the same conclusion Sergio had. He needed to be a politician now, or he would lose what little support he’d have left after the losses of the past week. He also couldn’t let anyone think they were above him, though.

“I won’t have a bitch captaining Real Madrid,” he spat, in a voice like poison.

“Pay me and I’ll go, asshole,” Sergio gritted, his teeth clenched so hard they hurt. Perez looked him up and down in a way that said he would, then turned and strode out of the room.

There was a short beat of silence before Marcelo spoke in his lilting voice. “If you’re getting paid to leave, I’m coming, too.”

Sergio blinked at Marcelo, then at the rest of his team. They were all looking at Sergio, not with anger, but with impatience and expectancy. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t playing with you today,” Sergio said, his voice breaking, and his words seemed to ease some of the tension in the room. “I shouldn’t have taken the yellow.” He moved to stand again, and Luka let him, his hand slowly sliding off Sergio’s shoulder and down to the small of his back. “And I shouldn’t have said that to Perez just now. Nothing Perez paid me would make me leave this team.”

“Well if we ever make it through a season without you taking a stupid yellow, it will be time for you to retire,” Lucas said from across the room.

“No one thinks its your fault,” Luka said, putting a hand on Sergio’s hip. Sergio looked down to meet Luka’s eyes, which were soft and sincere, and he felt himself almost choke on the hope he felt. He looked around the locker room to see several of his teammates nodding.

Sergio sighed, his body loosening. He let himself sink back onto the bench, pulling Luka with him so they were thigh to thigh, and slouch down and grieve with his teammates.
 

Chapter Text

Luka pressed a candied lemon slice into pale yellow frosting and leaned back to survey his work. The cake was tall and round and, Luka thought, really pretty, decorated all over with lemon wedges and piped yellow frosting. It tasted good, too, and Luka had used Sergio’s favorite lemon cupcake recipe, so he was sure Sergio would love it.

He’d made a lemon cake for Sergio’s birthday, which was being celebrated at the team dinner Sergio was hosting that night. Luka baked at his own house so that he could surprise Sergio. It meant leaving Sergio on the day of his birthday, but he’d woken Sergio up at dawn with a blow job, kissed him all over until he was hard again, rode his cock until they both came, and then made Sergio run ten kilometers with him, so Sergio had needed a nap anyway.

Luka had tried to let cooking in his own familiar, white kitchen, smelling and tasting batter and frosting he’d made a hundred times, relax him, but he felt like his shoulders were twitching with tension.

Sergio had planned the team dinner months before to coincide with his birthday, but no one had counted on them falling out of the champions league just two days before the party. Everyone on the squad would be depressed. Sergio felt terrible for missing the match. Luka himself was having the worst week of his career. The monumental way he and his teammates had failed this season was more painful than Luka’s loss in the World Cup final, because Madrid didn’t even get a final; didn’t even get close.

And on top of the tension and sadness that that would bring was the way everyone had seen him and Sergio in the locker room after Ajax: Sergio’s lips on Luka’s bare stomach, Luka’s hands stroking Sergio’s hair, Sergio looking up at Luka with soft, open eyes and calling him cariño.

Luka had no question that everyone on the team now knew they were together. He hadn’t talked to anyone much after Sergio’s argument with Perez, but he’d seen their appraising, surprised glances, noticed the awkward silence when he and Sergio left the locker room together.

He knew he shouldn’t have gone to Sergio in the locker room, when both of them were so raw and broken that it would be impossible to defend against each other, against their feelings for each other, against the questions of their teammates or of Perez. On the field, Luka had been infuriated, frustrated, disheartened. At half time, he’d sat on the floor of the locker room and thought of Sergio, stuck in a box in the stands because of one stupid mistake. Luka came out on the field in the second half and looked up to where he knew Sergio was sitting and thought, I have to give him this win. He couldn’t let himself and all of his teammates lose the only competition they were still in, the one they always figured out, and he couldn’t let Sergio live with the guilt he would feel if the team lost without him.

Luka tried everything he could. He ran and passed and tackled and shot. He played until he couldn’t breathe and until everything hurt, and still Ajax scored, and then scored again. When the whistle blew, Luka took deep breaths and tried not to fall apart. He traded jerseys with Tadic and congratulated him. He let himself bend over and rest his hands on his knees and heave a loud breath that was almost a sob, and then he pulled himself together and went into the locker room.

He thought of everything Sergio had done for him. How he’d loved him and cherished him and hugged him and always made him feel beautiful and warm and like he belonged—in Madrid and at Real and in Sergio’s arms. He remembered Sergio’s grounding voice, his soothing, sympathetic anger when Luka called him after Croatia lost in the World Cup, when he felt like he was falling apart. He remembered the first time Sergio ever hugged him: he’d only been in Madrid for a few weeks and they were walking intro training and Sergio wrapped an arm around him like it was nothing, and Luka had realized he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had given him anything more than a handshake.

He was thinking of all of that as he went into the locker room, but as soon as he saw Sergio, sitting on the bench in front of his locker with his head in his hands, all he could think was, I love him. He couldn’t not go to Sergio, his best friend, his boyfriend, the man he loved and had for a long time.

Perez, when he’d come into the locker room and seen Luka crouched between Sergio’s legs and cupping his face in a way that left no question about their relationship, had clearly been disgusted by them. Sergio had met with him yesterday and they’d smoothed things over enough to keep working together. Sergio was still furious about the things Perez had said, but he loved Real Madrid and would do almost anything to stay there. Luka felt the same.

Perez had told Sergio that he could do what he wanted on his own as long as it didn’t impact the club’s image. Basically: don’t even think about coming out.

Luka drove back to Sergio’s house twenty minutes before the dinner was supposed to start, the cake hidden in a white bakery box. Although he and Sergio could not, in any way, come out publicly, they really had no choice but to talk to their teammates about what they had all witnessed between them.

Luka walked into the kitchen after letting himself in to Sergio’s place using the key Sergio had given him. The house smelled like garlic and spice and meat and the basil spray Sergio’s cleaning service used. Luka found Sergio standing at the counter looking at a pork belly that he’d started roasting that morning, steaming and probably fresh from the oven.

“Happy Birthday,” Luka said for probably the twentieth time that day, walking to Sergio and wrapping an arm around his waist from behind as he placed the cake box on the island. He leaned up on his toes to kiss the back of Sergio’s neck, and heard Sergio murmur happily.

“Thank you,” Sergio said, turning around and wrapping his arms around Luka’s hips, then leaning down to kiss him sweetly on the mouth. “I’m excited,” he said, and Luka grimaced. Luka thought most of his teammates would be okay with him and Sergio’s relationship, but coming out to them still made him feel edgey. Sergio, though was sure everyone would be happy for them.

“We could just not answer the door,” Luka proposed.

Sergio laughed. “I can't wait to tell everyone you’re my boyfriend.” Sergio took a deep breath, then continued. “It’s my birthday, so I want to say something stupid, okay?”

Luka smiled and brushed his fingers over Sergio’s forearm. “Of course.”

After a moment, Sergio spoke, his voice low and slow and serious, his eyes on Luka’s. “I know the whole situation with Perez and Madrid makes everything difficult, but I’m so proud to have you next to me. And I know this season was a disaster, but it’s still been the best year of my life because of you. And also I want to play together until we both retire and come home every night to hug you and eat with you and fuck you, and I just want you to know that I’ve thought a lot about the future, after this season and everything, and I want us to stay together in Madrid.”

Really, none of this was a surprise to Luka. He hadn’t even told Sergio he loved him yet, but every time Sergio looked at him it was with bare, unguarded emotion in his eyes. And although they hadn’t been technically together for long, none of this seemed out of place: Luka had basically moved into Sergio’s house already, had basically been ready to give up his career and his teammates and his privacy when he went to Sergio in the locker room after Ajax.

“I want all that,” Luka said, and it was true. He’d realized, after the Ajax game, that for all that he’d been pretending to hold back, he was already completely Sergio’s, and had been for months. “I love you,” Luka said then, smiling broadly up at Sergio. “I’m sorry I haven’t said it before.”

Sergio looked at him like he was a dream.

The doorbell rang at just that moment. Luka pecked Sergio on the cheek and left to answer it, still smiling. He let in Toni, and talked to him and to the other guys as they got there. Everyone was a bit more reserved and quiet than usual as they stood around the kitchen, sipping beer and wine and looking at the floor. Luka figured everyone on the team felt like they’d failed each other, and it felt uncomfortable having to face each other now. He tried to pretend he wasn't worried about what they'd think of him and Sergio.

Marcelo was the last to arrive. Luka recognized his loud, rhythmic knock and Sergio went to let him in. Luka heard Marcelo’s and Sergio’s voices distantly, and then Marcelo came into the kitchen before Sergio and immediately looked to Luka. “Lukita,” he said, his voice high and excited, “are you and Sergio really together?”

Everyone in the room got quiet, but Luka couldn’t help but smile at the hopeful look on Marcrlos face and say, plainly, “Yeah.” Marcelo paced across the kitchen to hug Luka tight to his chest, rocking him back and forth quickly. They pulled apart after a brief moment, but Marcelo kept an arm around Luka’s shoulders and motioned to Sergio, who was now standing at the edge of the kitchen, to come over. Marcelo wrapped his other arm around Sergio’s shoulders. “Let’s toast to my two best friends!” he said, and, without pausing, everyone did.

Luka felt his shoulders fall back, felt himself breathe deeper than he had all night. Fuck I love this team, he thought.

“I told you,” Dani said, looking pointedly at Lucas. Then, to Luka and Sergio, “I told him this months ago.”

“I told Rafa, too,” Karim said, nodding. “Even before that time I found out for sure.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Marcelo asked, then turned to Casemiro and whined, “Case, why didn’t you tell me?”

Luka raised an eyebrow at Sergio. “I told you that you weren’t subtle.”

Sergio grinned down at him, then smiled out at the rest of their teammates, who were drinking and joking with each other. None of them seemed at all bothered. “You all make me so happy,” Sergio said to everyone, and they all quieted down for their captain. Sergio reached around Marcelo and pulled Luka to stand in front of him, putting his arms around Luka’s waist. “It’s my birthday, and I’m in love, and I made pork, and Luka secretly made me a cake, and I bought so much wine and beer. Let’s celebrate.”

And they did. The team stayed at Sergio’s house for hours, eating and drinking and laughing, and no one talked about the team at all. Luka unboxed Sergio's cake, and Sergio smiled at it like it was a workof art, and they all sang to him and then Luka watched Sergio eat and kissed sugar and pale frosting off his full lips in front of everyone.

It was late by the time everyone left, but Luka didn’t feel tired. He and Sergio closed the door behind Marcelo, who was still looking at them like them being together was the most amazing thing in the world. During the party, he’d pulled Luka off and told him in the most sincere voice, “I’m so happy that Sergio has you and that you have him. I just want you to know that I can only be the best man for one of you.”

Luka and Sergio looked at each other for a long moment after shutting the door and then, at the same time, broke out into relieved laughter. Sergio reached for Luka and pulled him close, dropping his forehead onto Luka’s shoulder. “Fuck, even I didn’t think that would go so well,” he said breathlessly.

Luka squeezed his arms tight around Sergio’s neck and pressed his cheek to the back of Sergio’s head. “Will you carry me to bed?” he asked quietly, and Sergio immediately reached for his thighs and pulled his legs up around his waist, hefting him up and then walking him to the bedroom. Luka slid down Sergio’s body once they got there and then slowly pulled his clothes off, keeping his eyes on Sergio, who looked at Luka’s body like he wanted to lick every inch of it. “I have a present for you,” Luka said. “Get naked and lie on your stomach.”

“Yeah?” Sergio asked, smiling sweetly. He pulled his clothes off and laid down, spreading his body out for Luka like an offering. Luka put lotion from the bedside table into his palms and rubbed it around to warm it up.

He climbed onto the bed and straddled Sergio’s thighs and leaned forward and ran his palm over Sergio’s shoulder, feeling for tension in his muscles, then dug the heel of his hand and then his knuckles into Sergio’s shoulder, working at the knots in the muscle. Sergio shifted, breathing out sharply, and Luka paused. “Okay?”

“Fuck, yes, ‘okay.’ You’re a god,” Sergio said. Luka huffed out a laugh and continued working at Sergio’s shoulder. When it was loose, he grabbed Sergio’s elbow and rotated his arm a few times, palm flat on his back to feel it moving smoothly. Then, taking his time and paying Sergio’s beautiful body the tribute it deserved, Luka rubbed his other shoulder, then his neck, and then all the way down his spine. Sergio moaned from time to time, and Luka barely kept himself from doing the same. Sergio’s skin was soft and hot and smooth beneath his hands. I should be used to this by now, Luka thought. But he was emphatically not, as his cock, which was red and hard where it rested on Sergio’s bare, round ass, could attest.

Sergio was tense at first, but his muscles relaxed easily under Luka’s hands, so by the time Luka got to his tailbone he was sinking into the mattress. Luka dug his fingers into the small of Sergio’s back, just above the curve of his ass, and imagined opening Sergio up and sinking into him. He leaned down and pressed a slow, open mouthed kiss to the bottom of Sergio’s spine, then to both cheeks of his ass. He worked his hands further down and rubbed the muscles of Sergio’s ass, his cock aching. Sergio groaned.

Luka laughed and smacked Sergio’s ass before climbing off of him and sitting on the side of the bed, leaning back on his hands so he could look at Sergio.

Breathing deep and seeming to gather his strength, Sergio rolled onto his back and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes before looking up at Luka, his pupils blown out, his face soft and relaxed. Luka smiled, proud of how sated Sergio looked, and that made Sergio laugh lazily.

“You know you’re good at that, huh?” he asked. “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me all this time. I think we should do this every night.”

“Hmm. What do I get out of it?” Luka thought he did a good job pretending he needed anything more than Sergio’s bedroom eyes and the feel of his hot body under his hands to make him want to do this every night for the rest of his life.

“The pride of knowing you’ve reduced me to mush? But you’re right, if you did this every night then what would you get me for my birthday?”

Luka smiled. “I actually did get you one more thing.” He went into the bathroom to fish through the small bag of toiletries that he brought with him to Sergio’s place and to away games. He took the necklace he’d gotten Sergio out of the ostentatious velvet box it came in and closed it in his fist.

Sergio was half sitting against the headboard when Luka came back into the room, still naked and looking beautiful and soft and sleepy.

Luka held his closed fist out to Sergio upside down, and Sergio opened his palm to let Luka drop the necklace into it, then brought it close to his face to examine it. It was a gold medallion on a gold chain. The round medallion was embossed with fine lines, overlapping and curving around each other, and was engraved with a few neat, blocky letters. Luka had seen it in a shop before Christmas and had immediately thought of Sergio, but it had seemed like too much back then. But he’d gone back and bought it two days ago, and had gotten it engraved.

“It says ‘I love you’ in Croatian,” Luka told Sergio.

Sergio looked up at him with shining eyes. “Put it on me, Lukita?” Luka nodded and took the necklace, and Sergio twisted so Luka could hook the clasp behind his neck. Kneeling on the bed behind Sergio’s broad back, Luka took a deep breath.

“Also, if you still want it, I’d love to fuck you.”

Chapter Text

Sergio sat on the bed with Luka behind him, hanging a medallion on his neck that said I love you, offering to fuck him.

“Yes,” Sergio said immediately after Luka spoke. He’d been relaxed and sleepy after Luka’s slow, careful massage, but now felt hot and nervous and excited.

Luka dropped the chain so the slight weight of it fell against Sergio’s neck, and Sergio tilted his chin down to see the gold medallion against the skin of his breastbone. Luka ran a hand over his shoulder and down his arm, then wrapped it around his waist and leaned against his back, propping his chin on Sergio’s shoulder. Sergio turned his head to kiss Luka’s temple, closing his eyes so he could feel everything at once: Luka’s soft hair brushing his nose, the skin of Luka’s chest sliding on his lotion slick back, cool metal and I love you on his skin.

“Are you sure you want to?” Sergio asked, his lips dragging over Luka’s skin.

“Mhmm,” Luka rumbled, and Sergio moved away from him to lay on his stomach, arched his back so his ass was on display for Luka, and grinned over his shoulder. He loved fucking Luka, but he also wanted, badly, to give himself to Luka in this way, to feel Luka inside of him, to make Luka fall apart the way Luka made him all the time.

Luka ran his gaze up and down Sergio’s body, his eyes hot. He grabbed lube out of the drawer then crawled over to Sergio and stroked a hand down his flank. He bent over to kiss the crack of Sergio’s ass. Luka spread Sergio’s thighs with his thumbs and sighed, and Sergio craned his neck to see Luka looking at his hole like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “Come on, cariño,” Sergio said, needy, “I’ve already been waiting for this for months.”

Luka smiled up at him, his eyes sweet, and Sergio helplessly smiled back. Then, Luka eaned down and ran his tongue, wet and hot and soft, over Serigo’s hole. Sergio jerked and cried out. He’d rarely ever been touched here, even by himself. He’d run his finger over his hole a few times when he was getting himself off and felt particularly curious, and Luka had teased him there once or twice when he was giving him blow jobs, but Luka’s mouth on him, his skilled, prodding tongue, was like nothing he’d ever felt.

After wetting his hole with spit and making Sergio feel out of his mind with need, Luka moved his mouth down to lick at Sergio’s balls and slowly, neatly slide a lube slick finger inside.

Sergio keened Luka’s name and writhed against the sheets. Luka’s finger stretched him slightly and felt strange but Sergio felt fucking starving for more.

“You’re okay,” Luka said, his lips on the back of Sergio’s thigh. “I have you.”

And Sergio knew Luka did. He worked a second finger in quickly and then curled both his fingers and rubbed and made Sergio jerk and loose his breath in a sharp huff. “Fuck,” he said, the word long and drawn out, the sensation inside of him making him feel like he was close to coming already without having even touched his cock.

Luka slowed down, though, only brushing across Sergio’s prostate occasionally, scissoring his fingers rhythmically until Sergio felt stretched and loose and relaxed.

“Ready?” Luka asked, and Sergio moaned a yes, then whimpered when Luka pulled his fingers out and quickly pressed the head of his cock at Sergio’s entrance instead. Sergio spread his thighs further apart, making space for Luka and barely breathing as he waited for Luka’s cock.

Luka had prepared him well, and the press of his cock didn’t hurt; there was just the pleasant feeling of being stretched, of his body opening to let Luka’s in, and then, when Luka was all the way in, of being connected to Luka in a way he never had to anyone else. Sergio felt raw, like his love for Luka was on the outside rather than the inside. Like there was nothing between them.

Luka ran his hands soothingly up and down Sergio’s sides, leaned down to kiss his spin, his neck, his ear. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Sergio said, loud and fast. “Yes, Luka, please, this is—you’re so—I need you.”

Luka growled and sat back, then started to thrust, agonizingly slowly, almost all the way out and then all the way back in, rocking Sergio against the bed and creating friction between his cock and the sheets.

“Luka,” he panted.

“Fuck, Sese. You’re perfect.” Sergio tightened the muscles of his ass around Luka, trying to replicate the movement that Luka used to drive him crazy whenever he was in Luka’s ass. Luka groaned, throwing a hand out next to Sergio’s shoulder, putting his weight on it and gripping Sergio’s hip tightly with the other. He pulled Sergio up off the bed a bit. “Touch yourself,” Luka urged him in a low, rough voice. Sergio did, gripping his cock tight and stroking it quick and hard. “Come with me,” Luka said, and they both panted and moved and then yelled out at the exact same moment, Sergio’s orgasm feeling different than it ever had before, the feeling of his ass clenching around Luka’s cock, of Luka’s come filling him, of Luka rubbing against his prostate with his last thrusts making him feel like he came for hours.

Luka pulled gently out of him after a moment and collapsed next to him. Sergio looked at him for a long moment, let his eyes linger on Luka's softening cock and though, I did that. Then Sergio pulled Luka into his chest and wrapped his legs around him, burying his face in Luka’s hair.

"I love you.” His voice was weepy, but he couldn’t be embarrassed when it was Luka, and when Luka’s come was inside of him.

“You too,” Luka said, pressing a kiss to Sergio’s neck.

They lay like that for a long time, until Sergio finally came back to earth and rolled so that he was on his back and Luka rested against his side, his head on Sergio’s chest.

“I never would have guessed you’d be so good at sex when we first met,” he told Luka, and Luka laughed.

“What did you think of me the first time we met?” Luka asked.

Sergio frowned. “Well, the first thing I noticed about you was your size. At first I thought you were too small to be a good player, but now… Well, you know I like how compact you are.” Sergio could feel Luka smile against his chest. “Then your voice surprised me. You could make me crazy with just that. You should talk more in bed, like you did just now. Your accent...Mmm. What did you think of me?”

“I told you then, I didn’t like you,” Luka said. “I thought you were obnoxious.”

“And now?”

Luka sniffed. “I still think you’re obnoxious.” he said.

Chapter Text

Luka slid across wet grass, kicking the ball away from Sergio and towards one of Sergio’s nieces. Sergio pretended to trip over Luka’s legs and ended up on the ground next to him, laughing, as the group of kids followed the ball toward the goal.

Luka sat up but didn’t stand, looking down at Sergio as he rolled over to lie on his back in the grass and smiled up at Luka.

Their season at Real had been over for two weeks. The last month of games had been punishing and demoralizing, with nothing to play for. Luka had felt exhausted to his bones, and Sergio had been out injured for weeks. When they’d more or less lost all three competition in one week, Luka had said it was the worst week of his career. But it wasn’t really just a week, because the season kept going, and they had to keep playing.

Playing football now, with Sergio and a team of kids on the makeshift pitch in Sergio’s parents’ backyard, Luka remembered, for what felt like the first time in forever, that he loved the sport. The kids were laughing, and Sergio was smiling at him, and the only people watching were Sergio’s family, who could care less who won or played well.

And there was Sergio on the grass next to Luka, with his smile and his joy and his love for his team and his family and Luka.

“I love you,” Luka told him, reaching over to brush a hand quickly over his chin. Sergio’s eyes softened, and he grabbed Luka’s hand and pressed it to his mouth for a kiss.

“Luka,” Sergio’s mother called from the deck, and Sergio and Luka both turned to her. Luka tensed for a moment, still expecting Sergio’s family to be uncomfortable with their relationship even though they’d basically been nothing but kind and welcoming to him for the past week. Sergio’s father had been a bit awkward at first, and was now purposefully looking at the kids and not at Sergio and Luka, but when Luka had talked to him about football the night before he’d eaten it up. “Will you help me with dinner?” Sergio’s mother asked now, smiling sweetly.

Luka nodded and told the kids on his team to win for him, then went inside into the kitchen where Sergio’s mom stood at the counter chopping vegetables.

“Could you work on the crust?” she asked Luka, nodding toward a bowl of already mixed pizza dough

“Of course,” Luka told her. He pulled off a ball of the soft dough and started stretching it into a round, leaning on the counter across from Sergio's mother. This was the first time Luka had really been alone with her, and he was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to say any of the things he needed to say: your son is the best man I’ve ever met or thank you for not making him feel bad about himself or I’m sorry I couldn’t give him a trophy this season. After a long, quiet moment, he told her, “I’ve tried some of the recipes you let Sergio give me at Christmas.”

She beamed at him with a smile that was just like Sergio’s. “Good! Sergio needs someone to bake for him when I’m not around. I’m glad he has you.”

Luka felt her words deep and warm in his chest. The sliding door opened. Sergio came in with his dad, and one of his nieces, Mari, ran in behind him. Luka watched Sergio talking with his fsther, his hands waving and his face animated and his Spanish faster and more accented than Luka had ever heard it. “I’m glad I have him,” Luka said to Sergio’s mom, biting his lip to keep his smile from showing how stupidly happy he was.

***

Sergio heard Mari squeal from the kitchen and glanced away from his dad to see Luka bend over and pick her up, then balance her on his hip and let her poke at the ball of dough he was holding.

Sergio’s mom was leaning on the counter near them, pretending to scold Mari for her dirty hands and putting a palm on Luka’s arm as she walked behind him.

Sergio sighed. He loved having Luka at his parents’ house, surrounded by his family, and he could tell that everyone loved Luka, who was sweet and smart and knew everything about football.

Sergio felt his dad’s hand on his shoulder and looked away from Luka to meet his dad's eyes, and only then realized that his own eyes were watering. He blinked quickly, and his dad smiled at him.

“I cried like a baby the first time I brought your mother home to my parents,” Sergio’s father told him, and Sergio felt his eyes water again. His mother and his siblings had accepted Luka without a thought, but his father, for all he’d tried, had clearly been uncomfortable with the idea of Sergio being with another man. Now, though, he looked at Sergio with understanding.

“Yeah?” Sergio asked, his voice rough.

“I realized then that I wanted to be with her forever,” his father said, raising an eyebrow in question at Sergio.

Sergio looked back to Luka, who was now letting Mari play with his hair. He and Luka had talked about the possibility of one of them transferring, and had both decided to do everything they could to stay. Luka had basically moved in with Sergio. They’d spent their entire summer together so far, and were flying from Sergio’s parents’ place to Luka’s parents’ place at the end of the week.

Sergio ran a hand down his face and sniffled, pulling himself together. “That’s how I feel, too,” he said, smiling.