IntiMates (Ronaldo × Dybala)

Yours, truly.. (Oneshot)

- " Hey, puppy. " He shot an alarmed look at Cris as he walked into the room:

- " Shhhh! Someone might still be in the hall- "

- " No one's there, Paulino, don't worry. " He comforted, stepping closer. " ..There's no one else here. "  The same words that were usually key to their secret, intimate world were spoken in a different tone this time.

- " Where the hell have you been all this time anyway? " His question came out accusatory instead of casual. " I thought you had left. "

- " Knowing you're still here?! Crees que estoy loco? " Cris said. " No.. I was just talking to the coach, baby- "

- " About what? " He blinked up at the man who was standing in front of him now wearing only his shorts, a towel thrown over his shoulder. " Did he say anything about me?! "

The older stared down longingly into the pair of wide opened, gorgeous greens:

- " He didn't, no. " His voice grew softer: " Is this it, did coach say anything that upset you earlier? " Paulo dropped his gaze, shaking his head no. " ..Who did, then? "

- " No one... " The boy murmured sulkily, playing with his fingers..

- " Paulino.. " Cris let out a heavy sigh. " Just be honest with me.. Did you want to take that penalty? "

- " When wasn't I ever honest with you? " His eyes were glowing more vividly as he locked them with Cris' again, " I told you I used to hate you as a kid when we first met, for crying out loud.. If I wanted to take that penalty I would've gladly let you know!... "

Cris nodded slowly, his fingers then made their way through the boy's soft, chocolaty-brown hair strands. 

- " What is it then, baby, hm? " He went on brushing the boy's silky hair gently with his fingers, enunciating : " Why in fuck's name were you ignoring me back there? "

Paulo felt his stomach drop for a second. The contrast of the man's authoritative words coated in a honey-sweet voice was another thing he was familiar with, by now, but hadn't learned yet how to get used to.

- " Cristiano, p-please..."

- " 'Cristiano' as well? You really are upset. "

- " The fuck am I supposed to call you right now? 'Daddy?!' " He added the last word in a cautiously lower voice, and a ghost of a smirk brushed over the older's lips at that. " ..You were practically asking for it back there, on the pitch.. Pulling my hair in front of everyone like I'm your little whore. "

- " Which you are. " Cris said matter-of-factly, and was met with an eye-roll from the boy. He added in a more serious tone: " Lo siento, baby.. I needed to do something to wake you up. You looked a bit.. off "

- " What did you want me to do? Throw myself into your arms and yell: 'great goal, daddy! I'm too happy for you that I don't give two fucks about playing a shit game, myself!' "

Understanding dawned in the man's eyes, at last. his heart ached a bit at the sound of the boy's piled up distress.

- " You know that's normal, right?" Cris sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders. " Everyone has shit games from time to time, Paulino.. Even I do. You'll make up for it next time. "

- " But what if I don't?.. " He mumbled quietly,

- " You will. You always do. " Cris pulled him in closer in what he intended to be a comforting hug, but Paulo leaned his head further and rested it deliberately on the other's lap, lying himself across the seat. The man stared down at the boy who lay there so comfortably with his head on his thighs, as though he belonged there, as though he wasn't asking him to be cautious, only moments ago..