Warnings: SMUT!! MDNI or if you're uncomfortable! Profanity!! Swearing!! Ferran and Martin (based on the reactions I think they deserve their own warning)!!
Word Count: 11.2K (fun fact! If you've read the whole story, you've read 46 pages!)
A/N: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, BUT THERE'S A LOT I WANTED TO INCLUDE IN THIS PART (AS YOU CAN TELL BY THE WORD COUNT)
[Incoming Facetime call from: Gavi]
"Gavi, you're going to have to learn to live without seeing my face 24/7. I don't want you experiencing withdrawal symptoms while I sleep."
"I just had a question about- is that a jar of pickles?"
"Yes. I felt like having a snack."
"You're disgusting."
"Listen, I brought several things back from university life in America, and a pickle addiction was one of them. Let me have little joys in life. What did you call me for? Besides to shame me for my midnight guilty pleasures?"
This was the 7th time in two weeks that Gavi had Facetimed you at odd hours. After your little heart-to-heart while drunk in the club, and him covering for you at work the next morning, he caved into the impulsive thoughts and called you, wanting to make sure you were okay.
"Gavi it's 10pm. If you want me to help you hide a body, call me during working hours."
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding at the sound of your voice. You were okay. Like actually okay. All of the distress in your voice, the shakiness, the panic - it had all disappeared. You were back to your cool self, and it filled him with a warm and gooey sense of relief. He kept you on the phone for about 10 minutes before his internal monologue told him it was enough, and he went to bed with a strange tightness in his chest.
For the first three weeks, it had been strictly texts and phone calls. Gavi was still sending you his daily little updates, some relevant, most not.
[Gavi]: Compression socks are really tight on my shins. Feels like they're cutting off my blood flow.
[Gavi]: pedri keeps telling me to eat bananas to help with my back cramps. Fact or cap?
[Gavi]: saw someone on tiktok make a Joao Felix thirst trap. Anything you want to confess?
This texting remained constant, and then he supplemented with phone calls. After the check-up call, he had to find new excuses to call you. He started scheduling his early-morning sessions over the phone instead of over text, asking about your life in the meantime. He started "forgetting" things in your office, calling to tell you he would be there before practice to pick them up. It hadn't annoyed you, per se, but confused you. Why was Gavi so comfortable calling you and just talking about random things on the phone? Initially, you had joked with him to stop calling you so frequently.
"Gavi, personal number. Personal. You should keep all work related stuff to emails only. I don't get paid to listen to you ramble about Game of Thrones."
"I know you well enough by now to know that if you didn't want to hear my voice, you would hang up."
He wasn't exactly wrong. You were not one to shy away from hanging up in someone's face if you were irritated (you had done it to Ferran the one time he called you from Gavi's phone). You also didn't really have anyone else to talk to. Angelika, despite acting unemployed, worked for a design house in the city, and her designs had been approved as part of the new line. She now spent every waking moment working on the spring/summer collection that needed to be shown in February. She had even stopped bugging you to go to the club. The only times you heard from her were when she sent "Hey I'm alive just busy" texts, or on the weekends when she begged you to drive her to the far fabric stores. There weren't many other people that you wanted to talk to. Your friends in the US were several hours behind. Your friends in Barcelona were kind of exhausting, and not who you wanted to hear from after a long day of work. And Martin?
Martin was ... interesting. You definitely liked being with him in person. Your dinners were romantic. Martin always picked you up and took you to the nicest restaurant, allowing you to order the expensive plates that would actually make you full. He always complimented your dress and your eyes and the way you looked despite having a long day at work. He was a theoretical great boyfriend. You liked going out with him every 3-4 days. You liked getting good morning and good night texts and the hot pre-game selfies whenever you checked your phone between shifts at work. But in those late nights when you were bored and lonely, and your TV shows were all boring you, Martin was not the first person you thought of calling.
While he was great over dinner, he wasn't the most entertaining or comforting presence. He had a habit of downplaying a lot of the things you were feeling or going through.
"Baby, people make sexual comments all the time. Just look at how people on Twitter talk about the players. You should be more flattered than anything that he complimented your ass."
That was the last time you ever called him after a long and tiring day of work. Your text messages were filled with only pleasant conversations. A good goal he scored in practice. Praise you received from the rest of the medical staff for your progress. Never your frustration with your job or your life or the sad boring things that regular, not famous not football players went through.
"It's like 7pm this is not a midnight snack."
The sound of Gavi's voice brought you back from your abstract thoughts. You looked at his face lit up on the screen. His hair was a little wild and still slightly damp from his shower. He was in a white t-shirt that hugged his shoulders. He placed his phone down so that he could show you his complaint.
"Remember how we were talking about my knee and thigh tightness? I've been trying to work out the muscle for a while but it's not helping."
He moved back from the camera, letting his black gym shorts and legs come in to the frame. He lifted his left short leg, showing off the pronounced muscles in his thigh. You brought the phone a little closer to your face, focusing on his leg. He flexed the muscle, and you swallowed hard. You had seen some of the best legs in football laying in front of you - so why was Gavi's slightly blurry form on FaceTime overwhelming you?
"Have you been doing the routine I gave you to improve blood flow? It looks like you haven't."
"It's hard to do! I tried multiple times and I'm just in pain every time. We just have a match tomorrow and like it's kind of uncomfortable. It's fine I can just play through it if you don't have any other recommendations."
This made you sit up. If there was one thing that would get both of you in deep shit, it was Gavi playing through a known and documented discomfort.
"You're not going to do that. If you get injured during the match then I-"
"Awe doctora, you're concerned about me getting injured?"
He got up close to the camera, smiling cheekily and feigning shyness. You rolled your eyes.
"If you get injured in the match I will get in trouble because your muscle tightness is in your file. So you have two options: do the blood flow massage I told you to, or I need to email Xavi now and tell him you should be playing a maximum of 60 minutes in tomorrow's match."
This statement made Gavi sober up, looking instantly more serious.
"We're not telling Mister Xavi anything. I actually don't know how to do the blood flow stuff without feeling like I'm peeling off my own skin."
"Would it kill you not to play all 90 minutes tomorrow?"
"Yes." There was not one indication, neither in his tone or on his face, that he was kidding. Gavi's love for football was evident, but it was deeper than most people saw. Barca wasn't just his club - it was the air he breathed, the blood in his veins. It was his family, his brotherhood since he was a child. It was the greatest love he had ever experienced, and he was honestly willing to lay his life down if it meant making Mister and the boys proud. He would die for this club.
"You know what doctora? You can just do it for me tomorrow morning before the match."
"You can't play right after we literally batter your muscles to increase blood flow. You have to do it within the next few hours to have enough time to rest. I wish you told me this morning, I could have..." Your sentence trailed as you looked at your front door. Your car keys were sitting in the dish. You had been thinking about going out to get some dinner, too tired to wait for chicken to defrost.
"Hello? Can you focus on the crisis at hand instead of daydreaming?"
"What if I came over and did it for you now?"
Gavi's eyes got wide and he stared at his screen. He was trying to process the information that had just slithered into his brain. You? At his house? At night? Alone???
"Wait." He said, and then hung up the call. You looked at your screen in confusion.
He stabilized his hands enough to find the contact.
*Calling: ~banana king pepi~ *
"Pick up pick up pick up pick up-"
"Hello?"
"Help. Me."
Pedri paused his game, much to the dismay of his brother, who was about to score a virtual goal.
"Pablo I know you didn't go to regular school, but you should know that in an emergency you should call the police."
"Y/n asked to come to my house."
Pedri bit back a laugh, removing the controller from his lap and putting the call on speaker so Fernando could be a part of the drama.
"You finally confessed that you're in love with her and want to kick her boyfriend's teeth in?"
"I'm not in love with her, we're just friends. That second part you might be right about." Gavi summarized your reasons for coming over quickly, asking Pedri for some sage advice while he and Fer raised their eyebrows at each other in amusement.
"As long as you have condoms, invite her over Hermano."
"I don't like her like that."
"Then why are you nervous about her coming to your place?" That was a good question. He didn't know why the idea of seeing you outside of work put all his internal systems on high alert, but it did. His hands were sweating at the prospect of opening the door and seeing you standing there in something other than scrubs.
"I'm not. I'm just going to tell her to come over. No need to make a big deal about it."
"Have fun Pablito." Fernando chimed in. Gavi scoffed and hung up. He called you once again.
"Where did you go?"
"Pedri called me to make sure we were going to the stadium together tomorrow. So, are you going to come here?"
"You never gave me an address. Or a yes for that matter." You laughed out. Your heart beat began to pick up. Did Gavi not want you at his place? Did he have another girl there? 'Why would he be calling you if another girl was there?' I don't know, brain, men are weird.
"Oh. Yeah. Yes. To coming over. I want you to. I'll text you the address right now." Something in your chest tightened at this statement. Your phone dinged, and you looked at the address Gavi had sent you.
"Cool. I'll be there in 20."
The drive to Gavi's place was calm. Old One Direction played over your car's aging speakers. The chilly night air came through the rolled down windows, winter finally making its first appearances in the middle of November. As you got closer to your destination, the surroundings started to look familiar.
Gavi was looking at the street from the window of his bedroom. In his La Masia shirt and black shorts, he had perched for all 18 minutes that it took you to drive over, right after he tidied the house. He didn't want you to think he was a teenage slob. If Gavi really thought about it, he would have admitted: all he wanted was for you to respect him - see him as a man. Someone put together and capable.
You parked at the bottom of his building, texting that you had arrived. He tried not to, but he ran down the whole staircase, swinging the door open before you had gotten out of the car.
"Hey. You know you live like walking distance from Martin?" You said, approaching the front door. Gavi's face soured at this news. He was never subtle about his distaste for Martin. After that night at the club, he had made it very obvious that he thought you should break up with Martin, or at least give him a stern talking to for leaving you to stumble around drunk and alone - especially since he was the one forcing drinks on you.
"Wonderful. I'll make sure to go and give him a nice neighborly gift."
"Like what? A black eye?"
"I was just thinking of pissing in his bushes but now that you mention it I really do think "bruised" is a good look on him..." He lifted his hand to his chin to look like he was thinking. You shoved him off balance, walking towards the door.
"Lets go, Gavi. I get cranky if I don't get all my beauty sleep."
He walked into the house first, holding the door open for you. You were honestly impressed: the place did not look like a teenager's house. The bottom floor was a spacious living room and dining room, with the kitchen connected by a low wall. The tan walls had vintage Barca and Spain National Team posters hung on them. There was a large TV mounted on the wall, a PS5 placed on the shelf beneath it, a pile of games stacked high. His couch was a long L shape. black leather wrapping around a black coffee table.
"You have a Barca coffee table book?" You asked, giggling slightly as you picked up the massive picture book.
"I've been with the club since I was like 11. Everything I own I have it in Barca colors."
You looked over at the stairs and the soft glow from the top of them. Something in you was dying to know what Gavi's bedroom looked like. How many hoodies he owned, what color his sheets were, how many pillows he slept on...
You shook yourself from this line of thinking. Despite the two of you getting closer and friendlier, Gavi was still technically just your coworker. You shouldn't want to know all these things about him.
"Ok where is the stone I gave you?" You put your hand out expectantly, and he dropped the black massage gua sha in it. Gavi moved to lay on the couch, mimicking what he would do in your office.
"Before you sit down, what have you been using as lubricant?"
He snapped his head at you, cheeks and the tips of his ears turning pink.
"I, I, um, lub- why do you need to know what kind of lubricant I use? That's a really personal question?"
You stared at him in confusion, wondering why he had gotten shy and stuttery at the question.
"So I can use that lubricant on you now?" He stood up, swallowing hard. He took several deep breaths before saying:
"y/n, I didn't invite you here to do anything sexual. If this is a joke that Pedri asked you to play it's-"
"Pablo you brainless bitch. I meant what have you been using as massage lubricant, because you're not supposed to scrape the stone across your dry skin."
You both stared at each other for a long moment. You had one brow raised, smirk playing on your lips. You were holding back a laugh at the thought: Gavi was thinking you wanted to know what he used to jerk off. Or sleep with someone. That second thought made you slightly nauseous. Gavi's eyes were wide, his mouth still open in shock. You had the courage to speak first.
"I see that the reason you have been feeling pain is because you have been giving yourself microabruises. Go get some oil or lotion so I can do this for you, and I expect my gas money in full tomorrow on my desk."
"Can you, uh, turn around?"
"Why?"
"I don't... I don't want you seeing where I got the lotion from."
"See now Pablo, if you had just gone upstairs, I would have thought it was from the cabinet or the bathroom. But since you've made it weird, you've confirmed that it's from your bedside table. Just go before you make this situation more sexually awkward."
"No but I-"
You held up one finger to your lips to silence him, then pointed in the direction of the stairs. He shuffled past you awkwardly and then took off, taking the stairs two at a time. You laughed to yourself. It was always funny seeing glimpses of innocence and youth in Gavi, especially since he was always pushing himself to act older and more mature.
Pablo was not having a good time. He ran to his bathroom to splash cold water on his now violently blushing face. He thought you would be able to see the mess of clothes in his bedroom if he opened the door. Now the conversation had shifted into an oddly sexual realm, and he didn't know how to deal. The idea of sex didn't usually embarrass him - it bothered him when the guys would talk about nothing else, but he thought he had finally reached a level of maturity where he could say "pussy" and not giggle. So why was he so damn shy right now? Why was he embarrassed to his core that you had mentioned him jerking off?
Pablo would describe his masturbatory habits as efficient. Once he and his teammates at La Masía turned 14, the medical staff had all sat them down for "the talk". Obviously there was the parental stuff about safe sex and all that, but from a sports aspect he knew: sexual frustration is bad for performance. So a couple nights a week he would rub one out hoping to ensure optimal performance. Lately, however, he has lessened his "alone time" significantly. Since Ferran had shown him that picture of you, since he started daydreaming about holding your hand, the feel of your skin, he was borderline afraid to jerk off. He didn't want to see your face. Coming to terms with the fact that he liked your company was already too overwhelming. Pablo was convinced this was a waiting game: you were just new and exciting. Eventually he would see another picture of another girl, and you would go back to "that one girl physio", and he could jerk in peace.
He came back downstairs, sheepishly handing you a tube of lotion, and then quickly laying on the couch, hoping to avoid your line of sight.
"Lotion for Men? Gavi, you know that your skin won't melt off it the product doesn't say 'for men' right?"
"We had a media intern last year that saw a tube of strawberry chapstick in my bag, and she sent the picture to 3 or 4 gossip instagram pages, saying 'look! Stuff for women! Gavi has a girlfriend!' So now I only use stuff that can't be mistaken as something for my nonexistent girlfriend."
"What if they think you have a boyfriend instead?"
"That might be ideal actually. Then maybe I could go home without being mobbed."
You smiled at Gavi, who was now more relaxed and far less red. His arms were crossed behind his head, legs stretched out and shorts rolled up slightly so you could access the upper parts of his thighs. You placed some lotion on his legs and began rubbing it in.
"Wow. Does the rest of the team know you offer private massage services?" He asked, resting his head and looking up at the ceiling.
"Obviously not. You think Ferran would ever leave me alone if he knew this was an option?"
Gavi laughed loudly at this. Watching you reject and diss Ferran on an almost daily basis was the highlight of training. Sometimes your responses were so creative that he would run to write them down before the end of the break. His personal favorite was when Ferran asked when you two were finally going to go on a date, and you replied with 'After my lobotomy next week so my brain is immune to mind numbing conversation with you'.
But as he looked down at you, Pablo noticed that your face was twisted in distain. You began moving the stone around his thighs, working in sweeping downward motions. The frown lines etched hard into your skin, eyes narrowed in concentration and slight disgust.
"Does Ferran make you uncomfortable?"
"It's nothing I can't handle."
"So the answer is yes he does." Gavi's voice was lowering with genuine concern. He and the team, the coaches, and even the rest of the physical staff only really laughed at or brushed off your daily interactions with the player. He hadn't realized how deeply the comments were bothering you. But now it was evident as you swallowed and started working his thigh a little harder.
"I don't want to speak ill of your friend."
"If he's bothering you, you should have told me. Or someone else on the team. We could have made him stop."
"But why wasn't me telling him I didn't like it enough to make him stop?"
You pressed harder into Gavi now, stone running alone the muscles in his calf. You should have been using a lighter hand, but emotion you had been suppressing for months was all bubbling to the surface.
"You're going kind of hard on my leg..."
"Why does it have to be you or Xavi or Dr. Gonzalez? Why do my words hold so little weight? So little value?"
"Okay this is painful now-"
"Why does it have to be one of you to say 'hey, you shouldn't make sexual remarks to someone on staff'? You think he tells anyone else their ass looks good in scrubs? Or that he's glad their office has a door with a lock? No. It's just me. Because I'm a girl he can talk about fucking me in broad daylight around the whole squad, and I have to shut up and keep him happy or I lose my job. It's just so-"
"Ay fuck y/n!" Gavi yelled out, grabbing your wrist and tugging it forcefully to get you to stop your abuse on his leg. You grabbed his other thigh with your free hand, digging your fingers into the flesh. He looked you in the eyes, and finally noticed the tears starting to form.
"I know how you feel."
"No you fucking don't, Pablo!" You yelled back, hand digging into his thigh, the other still in his grasp. This is when the first tear finally fell. I had been weighing on you for weeks - the slow realization that you were never going to respected in the way you deserved. A part of you knew that Martin was contributing to this burden as well. The arch of his brow when you talked about sports medicine terms, the mocking smile that played on his lips. The way he had adopted Ferran's disgusting little pet name of 'nurse'. You were disintegrating from the inside, and knowing that the others thought it was a joke, that Pablo thought it was a joke, was the final straw.
Gavi could do nothing but stare. His eyes softened, taking in your slumped form. It was like watching Hercules fall to his knees. Like watch the stars were falling from the sky and hitting the Earth in a fiery blaze. Watching you, who was normally so cool, so confident, so self assured, shake with silent tears was breaking something in Gavi. The way you said his name made his heart physically ache. You rarely diverted from his nickname to use his first name. 'When you did, it usually indicated a serious tone 'Pablo' meant there was something serious, something heavy. Now that heaviness was against your throat, suffocating you, and you were tired of carrying it.
Gavi stopped thinking. He acted on impulse only. He tugged the wrist that was in his hand, pulling you in. Your head met with his hard chest, and you felt one arm circle your shoulder. You remained like this for a long moment: up against Gavi, his arm pressing you into his chest, his shirt soaking up the wetness on your cheeks.
"'m sorry. I wont let him talk to you that way anymore."
You composed yourself, pushing yourself off Gavi and wiping your eyes. You looked away, embarrassed that you'd made him comfort you - that you'd broken down in front of him.
"It's okay. I can deal with Ferran."
"But you shouldn't have to."
"It's not your job to protect me, Pablo."
You finished the rest of your job in silence. Your fingers moved expertly around his skin, working out the muscle and pressing into his flesh, a soft gasp or hiss from Gavi being the only sound to fill the room. Your anger was irrational, but you couldn't quell it. You had gotten this far in life without the protection or defense of anyone, and you weren't prepared to be coddled now. You finished quickly, wiping your hands on your pant legs and moving to grab your bag.
"I'm going to go now. Get some sleep for tomorrow's match against Betis. Good night." You tried to walk past Gavi without looking up, but he blocked your path.
"You're in my way."
"You're not leaving while you're upset."
"You want me to stop being upset? Stop pretending you give a shit about my feelings. You want to look like a man? Telling off Ferran so people think you're a good person?" You shoved past Gavi once again, and once again he moved in front of you, blocking the door completely.
"Just because you're older than me doesn't mean I'll let you disrespect me in my own house. I'm not pretending to give a shit. I do give about your comfort and your feelings because last I check, we're friends. I've been waiting to break Ferran's shins for weeks, I've just been waiting for you to say so."
"You think it would make me feel better for you to hurt a teammate? Could you be any more juvenile?"
Gavi took a step towards you, arms crossed over his chest, breathing more heavy. He looked you straight in the eye, not allowing you to break from the gaze.
"You can yell at me all you want. You can be angry at the fact that I care about you. You can punch me," he hit on his chest, "right here if you want to. But I am not a child. Don't refer to me as one. So you can go an be upset and pretend that everything I do is selfish, but you know deep down that no matter how much you push me away, I'm looking out for your best interest." He opened the door and stepped aside.
"Drive safely, doctora."
You walked to your car, turning to gaze at Gavi, who leaned against the door frame, watching you intently. You were the most confusing person he had ever met. You were stubborn and easily irritated. You refused to accept help. You were fucking frustrating. But as he watched you walk to your car, something warm filled his body. He didn't want you to leave. He wanted to rush after you, pull you into his chest again, and take you upstairs. He wanted you to see the mess in his bedroom. He wanted you to lay on the couch. And the drive didn't feel like you were going home. It felt like you had left something important behind.
~
The next morning you were up before your alarm. You couldn't find sleep or peace. Your words to Gavi had eaten you alive all through the night. You knew you had been too harsh, projected too far onto him, but you hadn't been thinking straight. It hurt differently to think that he was laughing at your expense. The guilt followed you around all morning as you prepared yourself for the match. You slicked back your hair, pulling it away from your face, and dressed in the slacks and pullover that all the field medics were regulated to wear. But as you sipped your lukewarm coffee, the guilt still sat in your stomach, swirling and festering and making you nauseous. So you swallowed your pride with your last sip of coffee and pressed the call button.
"Uh, hello? Am I late?" Gavi's voice asked, raspy and dripping with the remnants of sleep. He sounded like a child who was woken up for school.
"Oh no, you're not late. I'm up early... couldn't sleep."
"Why not?" Gavi was now fully awake after processing that you had called him. His heartrate elevated slowly, the sound of your voice helping the tiredness slip away from his very being.
"I... I feel guilty about yesterday. I shouldn't have taken out all my anger on you and your thigh tissue. I really appreciate you looking out for me. I guess I just wanted to say I'm sorry."
Gavi was leaning against his sink, swaying back and forth and smiling stupidly. You were thinking about him. You appreciated him. It made him swell with pride. He listened intently to the rest of your apology, hypnotized by the sound of your voice.
"There's no need to apologize doctora. I understand that you were upset."
"But I still feel bad. I was.. pretty mean to you yesterday. I want to make sure that you're not still upset with me."
Gavi looked into the mirror, smiling and dancing at your response.
"If you really want to make it up to me, I would like to cash in my favor."
You were in the process of grabbing your keys when you paused, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
"Favor? I don't remember owing you any favors."
"La doctora, you don't remember? Let me refresh your memory. You go home drunk and don't set an alarm. I come up with a wonderful and convincing excuse for Dr. G so that you don't get in trouble. You owe me, and I quote, anything I want. Ring any bells?"
You scrunched your face and groaned in distain. You remembered rather vividly now the promise you had made.
"Alright Gavi, hit me with it. I can take it. How am I repaying you saving my job?" You heard a low chuckle from the other side of the line.
"You'll be driving me home from the stadium starting today until we break for Christmas."
"What?!"
"You'll be driving me home. Pedri is working with Adidas for several campaigns over the next month, and it'll be a pain getting home after practice. Since you know the way now, you can get there easily. And hey, you can even visit Martin afterwards."
You started your car, thinking about the ask. It was on your way home anyways to drive by Gavi's neighborhood. And it would probably make you both even after your missteps.
"Fine. We will discuss further in the stadium when I see you. Go go, prep for the match. I want us to win today."
"We are going to win for sure. Give us a harder goal."
"Don't be arrogant Gavi. See you at noon."
~
Matchday at the camp was always extremely hectic, but especially for the medical staff. Meetings started at 9am despite the game not beginning until 3pm. All the equipment had to be approved by La Liga through inspection. Your wardrobe was inspected as well, and once again you were told off for not removing your rings. You pulled them off your fingers begrudgingly, hearing once again the lecture about rings tearing gloves. You were already over the match by the time the players started to arrive.
You made your way to the locker room to do some checks on players with pre-listed discomforts, making suggestions to prevent injury during the game. You were greeted warmly by the players as you pulled out your clipboard and pen. You made your way around, telling certain players to wear compression socks, and instructing others to stretch in certain ways. You made your way over to Pedri and Gavi, pulling out your notes.
"Pedri, how is that right thigh?"
"Amazing, y/n. I've been using resistance bands nightly like you instructed. I feel as flexible as playdoh."
"Always great to hear. Also congrats about the expanded Adidas contract." Pedri lifted his shirt over his head and looked at you somewhat confused.
"Ah thank you but... which contract specifically?"
Gavi's eyes were wide in panic. He had forgotten to fill in Pedri about his little white lie. It was true that Pedri had some filming with Adidas, but it would take about 3 days max. There was no reason that Gavi could pinpoint that would make him lie to get you to drive him home for 4 weeks. But he did it anyways, and now he needed to make sure it didn't collapse because of a lapse in communication.
"Gavi told me you'd be filming with Adidas, so I'll be driving him home until the Christmas break."
Pedri shot a look to the younger boy, one eyebrow arched, and found the expression of desperation on his face. The smile crept onto Pedri's face, proud of his friend for finally making some sort of move with you, even if he was yet to admit it was made because of the crush he was harboring.
"Oh that's right! They have us filming a lot of content at night to show off the color of these new boots, so it's really helpful that you'll be taking little Gavi home."
The sigh of relief was almost a little too loud. Gavi would fill Pedri in later, but for now, he was glad that he hadn't been caught in the lie.
"Anytime. Now onto little Gavi himself - how is the thigh tension?" You worked on Gavi, evaluating his physical form.
"I didn't know the nurse was making house visits today!"
Your jaw clenched and eye twitched at the sound of Ferran's voice. You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, and continued to check for signs of bruising and distress, crouched close to the ground to inspect Gavi's thighs.
"Wow Pablito, got her on her knees for you? You'll have to tell me the secret."
"Ferran, you couldn't get a dog to love you if you were covered in bacon. Be quiet and get changed so you can sit on the bench for 90 minutes."
You looked up at Gavi, shocked at his response. You squeezed his thigh, causing him to meet your concerned gaze.
"Gavi, tell me to shut up again and you'll be preparing for a prolonged hospital stay."
"I'd like to see you fucking try, Torres." Gavi moved from his place, approaching Ferran, before a hand from Pedri gripped his shoulder. One of the assistant coaches noticed the argument and rushed over, eager to prevent his players from killing each other.
"What the hell is going on?"
Ferran looked at Gavi with disgust, and then turned his eyes to rest on your chest.
"I think y/n is creating an uncomfortable environment in the locker room. I'd prefer if she wasn't here." He said, smirk playing on his lips. Your face paled, the colors draining and nausea bubbling. The last thing you needed was a complaint from a player.
"She wasn't doing anything except looking at my leg. She didn't even speak." Gavi responded, voice high and a touch too loud to be respectful.
"y/n, it may be better if you leave for field inspection. Send in Antonio to continue current problem rounds."
You nodded and walked out of the locker room, feeling utterly embarrassed. All you ever wanted was to make a good impression and be respected, and it seemed that no one paid your wellbeing any mind. You bit back your feelings and went to find Antonio. Gavi was not as merciful.
"What mental deficiencies do you suffer from that would make you say that? What if she loses her job?"
"She won't lose her job. She'll get a warning because of player complaints, and then she'll come to me and do whatever I ask to get the complaint removed. Just want to watch her bend over that desk just once before they realize she's incompetent."
"Say nasty shit about y/n in front of me again and I'll kick your fucking teeth in."
Ferran wanted to laugh, but the sound died in his throat when he saw the look in Gavi's eyes. His eyes were angry, cold-blooded, and murderous.
"You wouldn't dare." He retorted, trying to regain some confidence by calling the bluff.
"We play football for a living. I can make it look like a fucking accident." With that, Gavi left the locker room, ready to be away from Ferran and his punchable face.
~
Normally, you loved being on the sidelines for matches. You got to watch all the action as it occurred, and you got hands-on experience with the Barca players and the visiting teams (maybe it was bad, but you prayed Joao would need medical attention when Atletico was at Camp Nou). You got to enjoy every aspect of your job, and feel like you had come a significant way in your journey. Normally. Today, you wish you were at home or in your office or anywhere but the sidelines. Word had gotten back to both the coaching staff and the rest of the team about the little disagreement in the locker room, and now all eyes were on you. Xavi gave you the normal courtesy head nod, but gave you specific instructions to stay away from the bench and the players. It was a mortifying experience, and you prayed this game would end quickly and painlessly.
Your wish was granted in the first half. The team was playing cohesively and relatively safely, with a couple fouls here and there but no injuries requiring any attention. Lewandowsky scored a goal in the 34th minute, putting the team in the lead 1-0 at the half (during which, you were asked not to be in the locker room or the tunnel). This only made you feel worse. Player complaint were the kiss of death for any aspiring professionals in sports. You get into a disagreement with a player? You're gone. Why? Because there are thousands of physios and photographers and water boys, but only onw left forward worth 48 million Euros.
In the second half, however, you did not get your wish. Areal collisions came one after the other, requiring you to rapidly check players for any sort of head trauma. In the 67th minute, Gavi assisted Pedri with an amazing goal from deep in the box. You jumped when you saw the ball hit the back of the net. Pedri did his signature goal celebrations, and after he pulled away, your eyes locked with Gavi. He raised his eyebrows at you and you returned the gesture, and then he resumed the aggressive attacking. At minute 70, you were contemplating packing your things. The intensity of the match had died down significantly. Barca were passively looking for a third goal, and were not as prone to injury. This all changed in minute 72, when the midfielder decided he hated Gavi. Dribbling with the ball, Gavi was trying to turn to give him more options to pass or dribble, but he was surrounded by three people. As he tried to break free, the Betis player's knee collided with Gavi's groin. Hard.
The sound of the collision and then the fall to the ground sounded like it was heard in the entirety of the stadium. Your jaw went slack and eyes went wide. Gavi was on the floor, unmoving. You didn't even think, using enough brain power to grab the medical bag at your side, and then sprinted across the field to Gavi. There was a crowd of players surrounding him now, creating a tight ring of people. You approached the group, placing your hands on the nearest person, and then shoving.
"GET OUT OF THE WAY! MEDIC! MOVE!"
You finally go the bodies to disperse, and laying there was Gavi, tears in his eyes and whimpering from pain. He had one arm slung over his face, and the other gripped his shirt in immense pain. When he saw you approach, he looked at you with pleading eyes, begging for anything that would stop the throbbing pain he was experiencing.
"Gavi, where did you get kneed exactly? Where is the most intense pain?" You asked, kneeling to the ground and pulling on your gloved.
"My... my dick. I got kneed in the dick and it feels like hell." He replied. He was in too much pain to be shy. His dick fucking hurt, and he wanted anything to soothe the pain as quickly as possible.
"Gavi, I'm going to touch you now, okay?" You asked, hand hovering over the area. He nodded, not fully processing what you were saying or what was happening. You placed your hand over his dick and his eyes shot open. You began to massage the area slightly, moving your hand around, trying to prevent receptors of pain from activating and working to increase blood flow to the area.
And increase blood flow you did. Gavi felt the blood begin to pool in his shorts, and now that the pain was subsiding the embarrassment was returning, he took in what was actually happening. You had one hand on his cock and balls, moving them around slowly, and one on his hip, making sure the area wasn't sensitive. You looked up at Gavi, who was still in somewhat intense pain.
"Here, give me your hand." You placed your hand atop his, guiding it to his injury.
"Keep moving your hand around where you got kneed, and we'll get you on the bench. I would give you ice but I don't think that's idea here. Can you walk alone?" Gavi nodded, and you and the medical staff cleared the field. Gavi walked to the bench himself, earning cheers and love from all the fans in the stadium. He sat on the bench, continuing to massage his bruised genitals, and trying to make his blush subside by the end of the match.
~
After a stunning 3-0 win, you were ready to go to bed and never wake up again. Your whole body ached, and you had gotten dizzy from the sun exposure mixed with the biting chill of late November. You were barely able to drag your body to the players area - which you still could not enter. You received an email on your phone saying that Dr. Gonzalez would speak to you personally regarding the player complaint. Just as you were ready to burst into tears, Gavi emerged from the locker room, Pedri trailing close behind.
"Enjoy the game today?" Pedri asked, pulling you out of your trance.
"Loved it. I just wish Gavi could stop running into people so I could have a better viewing experience."
Gavi took this as an opportunity to enter the discussion, groaning on about how the other teams bullied him and were extra tough on him as the three of you walked to the garage.
"See you tomorrow, Pedri." You waved, unlocking your car and climbing into the driver's seat. He waived at you, and approached Gavi to hug him goodbye. As he pulled the younger boy in he whispered in his ear.
"I don't know how you thought of this little lie, but now you're going to be alone with her every day for four weeks. Ready to admit that you like her?" Gavi let out a fake laugh, playfully slapping Pedri on the shoulder.
"I don't like her like that. I just want to relieve some burden off of you, Hermano."
"Mhm yeah I'm sure. Just try not to get hard watching her drive on your first ride home. Wait until day 4 or 5." With that, Pedri walked to his own car, getting ready to call Fernando and update him about the circus that was Pablo's love life, and enjoying only being mobbed by 1/2 the normal amount of fans.
Gavi walked to your car quickly, climbing in and tossing his bag in the back. He tried not to think about Pedri's words. He was perfectly capable of sitting next to you, his friend, without being aroused just because you were a girl. At least he hoped he was. He was not hunched over and thinking deeply. Why did he decide that this was the best way for you to repay him? It's not like Pedri had ever complained about chauffeuring him around. And it's not like he didn't enjoy rides home with Pedri, listening to Quevedo and making idle conversation. But lately he just wanted to be around you - make sure you were okay.
The ring of your phone broke Gavi's train of thought. You answered on your car's speaker.
"Hola Martin. How are you doing?"
The sound of Martin's voice twisted Gavi's intestines, making him nauseous and fatigued. He hated the sound of his voice, the thought of his face, the words that he strung together and decided to say to you.
"Hola sexy. How are you doing this evening?"
You rolled your eyes. You knew exactly why Martin had chosen to call at this time. You had texted him earlier in the day, asking if he would be home that evening so you could drop by. This had led to a brief inquisition, with Martin wondering why you wanted to see him suddenly, and why you would be in his neighborhood. Once he found out it was because you would be in a car with Gavi alone, something in his behavior switched. He suddenly wanted to be a doting boyfriend who called and checked up on you.
"I'm doing well. You're on speaker in the car. I'm driving Gavi home right now."
"Are you still coming over afterwards? I've missed you so bad." Martin whined out that last part in such an animated way that it made you want to laugh. You knew what he was doing. He wanted to assert his dominance over Gavi, and make it think that you were going to swiftly go get railed by Martin right after you delivered Gavi at his doorstep. the truth was, despite dating Martin for several months now, you two had yet to go all the way. There had of course been kissing and some heavy petting, but no articles of clothing had never his the floor.
"I'll see how I'm feeling after Gavi leaves and call you then. Bye Martin." You said quickly, hanging up the call once you took a quick look at the disgusted look Gavi had plastered on.
"I'd mock you if I didn't think I would throw up." He said, trying to be lighthearted but failing. You didn't reply, feeling slightly embarrassed that he had to listen to your boyfriend's weak attempts to prove his manliness.
"No it's okay, go ahead and mock my boyfriend who moans on the phone when other people can hear." Your laugh was also stiff and forced. The call had made the air thicker and the mood more tense. You handed Gavi the phone, instructing him to play some music so that you weren't sat in the awkward silence that Martin seemed to always create between the two of you.
"This is a lot of pressure now on me. I'm never on AUX." He says, scrolling through his music. He pressed the song, and the sound poured from the speakers.
"Enrique Iglesias? Isn't he before your time?" You asked, smiling from ear to ear. You loved Cuando Me Enamoro, and the familiarity helped release the tension from your shoulders. As the song played, you started softly singing along. You opened the cover of the moon roof, allowing more of the street light to enter the car.
Gavi turned to look at you, examining your features. Your eyes were soft, focused on the road ahead of you. Your fingers drummed against the steering wheel to the beat. You had one leg up as you drove, leaning into the door slightly. Your lips moved along with the lyrics, singing contently. Gavi could not move his eyes from the sight. Your lips forming every letter were drawing in his focus, hypnotizing him. He never wanted to look away from the soft pink flesh. His thoughts began escaping his control. He wanted to hear you sing louder. He wanted to hear you speak, watching those lips talk about anything your heart held a passion for. He wondered what they would feel like against the pads of his fingers. He imagined what it would be like to kiss them - softly at first, just to feel their warmth and softness. Then harder, to interlock with his own, to bite them, pull them, have them stretched around him, make them cry out his name.
"Pablo?"
He snapped up, giving himself whiplash. Gavi had not noticed that he had rested himself on the center console, leaning against his palm and daydreaming so deeply it drowned out the sound of your voice calling his name.
"Sorry to disturb your deep pondering, but we're here." He looked up at you, vision still rose tinted from the deep dive he had conducted on your lips. His mouth hung open, wanting to say something, but the words would not form in his head. He wanted to touch you. He wanted you to be closer. But he couldn't say it. So instead he extended his hand for a fist bump, coupled with a quick mutter of 'goodnight'. He grabbed his bag, quickly closing the door and digging for his keys.
"Gavi?"
He looked back at you. Your eyes locked for a moment. His hazel eyes conveyed an emotion that you couldn't understand. You didn't want to look away from him.
"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" There was a plead in the question that didn't escape either of you. It was a request. You wanted to see him. His eyes softened, crinkling at the sides as a smile spread across his space.
"Of course, doctora. Drive safe, and let me know when you get home."
Your eyes remained locked until Gavi shut his front door. He leaned against it breathing deeply, as you leaned your head against your steering wheel. You both felt a deep longing for the other, the feeling of "I miss you" sinking in as soon as the door clicked. But he got off the door, and you turned your engine back on, and you both ignored the feeling that something was missing.
~
Gavi was proud of himself. He was only half hard after leaving the car, despite the most sinful and inappropriate thoughts about your lips festering in his mind. He tried to eat, but he had no appetite. All he wanted to do was call you, text you, read your old messages. He threw his phone on his bed. He didn't understand why you now took up so much of his headspace and thought. He went to shower for the third time that day, hoping to relieve the tension permanently etched into his limbs.
You knocked on Martin's door for a third time. You had called him from Gavi's to let him know you were coming. He answered the phone out of breath and rushed, telling you to just come over, and hanging up quickly. It was night and day from the concerned lover that had called earlier. On the drive over you rationalized his behavior. Did you really have time for a boyfriend that wanted to talk to you often and be with you and have sex and sleepovers? No. You were busy and focused on advancing your career. So maybe Martin and his distance and indifference was actually perfect.
He finally opened the door after three rounds of knocking and two phone calls.
"You're here sooner than I expected." He said, cheeks slightly pink and breathing fast.
"Yeah Gavi lives really close by. Can I come in?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at his form, which blocked the entryway entirely.
"Uh," he looked over his shoulder before responding, "yeah sure. Come in." You entered his house, removing your shoes at the door. Martin had called you "backwards" the first time you did this at his house. As a person in medicine, you couldn't comprehend tracking the entire bacteria ecosystem onto the floor of his house, but it was one of those things you just agreed to disagree on.
"Making sure the other girlfriend left before letting me in?" You laughed, and he spun around quickly, grabbing you by the shoulders and leaning down to look at you.
"I know you make a lot of jokes, but this can't be one of them," he said, his tone somber and serious. "Don't ever joke about me being a cheater. It's not who I am and I am a better person than that." You were shocked by his sudden change in mood, putting your hands up in surrender and apologizing.
Gavi laid awake in bed, legs tangled in the sheets, moving from one side to the other, unable to find a single moment of rest. He checked the phone on his nightstand every couple of minutes, waiting to see your name light up the screen. Why weren't you home? It had been over an hour since you had left his house. Martin was definitely not interesting enough to keep you at his place for so long, especially after a match day. The longer he thought about it, the more the sweat pooled on his brow and the dread seeped into him. Maybe you two were having sex. Maybe you would be spending the night at his house, and Gavi would never get the "I'm home" text. He tried to calm himself, but everything irritated him. Why did you have to leave him to go to your stupid boyfriend's house? Why did he want you to tell Martin to fuck off and lay on the couch with him? Why did he want to know so badly if you two were having sex?
As with most news he got about your relationship, he heard the tip from Ansu who obviously heard it from Ferran: after three months together, you and Martin had still not had sex. After the initial 'why the hell are you guys talking about this', Gavi started to listen to Ansu's gossip as he packed his things after practice. He heard about Martin's complaints.
"Apparently, he told Ferran that she will kiss him and touch him and make him hard, then she will pull away and go home. He said first it was like exciting - ya know, being teased, playing hard to get. But now he's kind of getting impatient ya know. Ferran told him to get another girl."
"To break up with y/n?" Gavi asked a little more enthusiastically than he intended. Pedri looked up from his phone and raised an eyebrow at Gavi, but refrained from making a comment. He wanted to go home, and he knew the longer this conversation continued, the longer it would be till he could sit in front of his TV and play FIFA.
"No not to break up with her. Ferran was like 'oh you know she's wife material like she is good in front of cameras and will look nice for your Wikipedia page. But if you want to have sex just go to a girl in a club and sleep with her and then do the couple shit with y/n when you feel like it. You already set her expectations low."
Pedri swears to this day he saw the smoke rise from Gavi's ears at the suggestion that Martin cheat on you. In football and in life, Gavi hated cheats. He wanted to tell you, but was advised against it.
"Unless we hear that he is actually cheating on her, there's no need to hurt her feelings or add stress to her life."
So now he sat in bed, frustrated in more than one way, as he thought about you and Martin having sex. He closed his eyes, hoping to conjure up a new mental image, but all he saw was you. You were in the same sweatshirt and leggings that you had come over in the other day. Martin was nowhere to be seen. You were in the living room, laying on the soft leather of the couch, beckoning Gavi over.
He felt the blood begin to pool and his cock start to harden. He threw one arm over his eyes, groaning loudly. It had become a common occurrence for him to get horny when thinking about you, but usually he could will the image away by reminding himself that you two were friends and would not be anything more. Usually. Today it wasn't working. The image of you on his couch, licking your lips and calling him over refused to disappear. The tighter he closed his eyes the stronger it got.
He moved his hand to palm his aching erection through the fabric of the boxers he had worn to sleep. The you in his head was standing now, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. The sight of skin (imaginary as it was), encouraged him further, and set his very skin ablaze. He pushed down his boxers, stroking himself slowly now. In his head now, you had slowly stripped away your sweatshirt, leaving you in a bra and tight leggings that cupped your ass in the most sensual ways. He was panting now, breathing heavily, switching between stroking his cock and playing with the head. In his mind you stripped off your leggings, leaving you in just your bra and panties for him to stare at, taking in the sight of your body. Beads of precum formed at the head, which he spread around, teasing his most sensitive nerves. He knew once he came you would disappear, and he didn't want to be without you.
The real you was in a similar position: seductive and shirtless. You were currently under Martin, shirt having been discarded somewhere in the living room as he pressed you into the couch. He broke from you to pull off his shirt, then captured your lips once again. You move fervently to match his pace. He kneaded your breasts between his hands. Rough. Everything Martin did was fast and rough. And you tried to keep up, but the only sounds leaving you were heavy breaths from exertion, not arousal.
The scene in Gavi's head switched perspectives. He was now on the couch, legs spread open, inviting you in. You walked towards him slowly, and he drank in the sight of you. You crawled onto his lap, straddling him, and rested your forehead against his. Your eyes, your lips, your breasts - the image of all three sent shock waves through his body and straight to his cock. He gripped it now. He wanted to turn to his nightstand, grab something to lubricate with and stroke in earnest, but he was afraid he would lose the vision of you.
In Martin's house, the real you was searching for an escape. Martin was kissing your neck, grinding into you like a dog in heat. After a few minutes he noticed that you had gone silent, even your breathing relaxing now. He came up to look at you. What kind of girl didn't get turned on from activities like this? He decided to switch positions so that you were laying on top of him, and he dug his fingers into your hips and ass pressing your clothed core against him. He was unmistakably hard, but you felt nothing. There was no pool in your panties or heat in your loins. You were kissing him hard but felt, well, indifferent. Like you might rather be doing laundry.
In Gavi's head, you were a puddle. He had captured your lips between his own, kissing you deeply as you rocked against him, the kiss only breaking when he hit your sweet spot, causing you to moan out. He let his hands roam your bare skin, and he could almost feel the warmth. Fingers resting on your waist, he moved with you, rutting against each other and chasing your release. He looked down at the two of you, watching the wet spot on your panties grow as you ground your clit into his hard-on. He moved to your neck, kissing and suckling until little marks bloomed on the skin. You whimpered out, and now Gavi wanted to do everything in his power to make you moan in earnest. You were looking at him with those gorgeous eyes, begging, pleading, imploring Gavi to do more. And he wanted to do so much more.
The action ended for the real you rather quickly. Martin was pushing you against him, bruising your pelvic bone as he chased his own orgasm, almost forgetting that you weren't a sex doll. You decided to help finish him off quickly and go back to your place. Maybe you would still have time for that laundry. You placed your hands on either side of his head, his face basically buried in your breasts, and you started to grind into him earnestly, rocking your hips in a way that you knew drive men crazy. Within 45 seconds he was cumming in his pants, moaning loudly, and pressing into you so hard you were worried it would leave marks. You gave him a quick kiss and tugged your shirt back on. You both exchanged words about seeing each other soon, and you walked out of his house to your car alone and unsatisfied.
Gavi was almost in pain. His cock was angry and throbbing, begging for him to stroke himself in earnest. But he couldn't do it dry, and he would rather remove his cock entirely than lose this dream of you. You were now in front of him, on your knees, touching his upper thighs. He felt the ghostly sensation on his skin as he remembered every time you pressed your fingers into the muscular flesh in your office (or on his couch). You pulled down his boxers, and his cock sprung free. You leaned over and let your tongue hang from your mouth, your drool flowing on to his cock. Gavi brought his hand up and spit in his palm, pretending it was you. He brought it back down and began stroking, long fluid motions from base to tip. You were also stroking him, looking up at him with those big innocent "fuck me" eyes, and he couldn't stop himself from moaning out.
He wanted you. He wanted you to be on your knees for him, on his lap, under him in bed. He wanted you. He had never been harder in his life. And then he got to those lips. Those pink perfect lips that spoke to him so gently, teased him, called out his name - in his mind he watched them stretch over his cock. His self restraint snapped. He brought his hand up again, spitting into his palm multiple times, and beginning to stroke his cock rapidly. He wished it was you. He wished it was your smaller hand wrapped around him, so he could guide you to stroke it in just the way he liked. He was playing with the head of his cock now, imagining your lips sinking deeper and deeper over him, looking up at him with tears in your pretty eyes.
There was no more pretending and no more care. The sheets were thrown off, the room filled with heavy breaths, groans, and the squelching sound of Gavi pumping his cock. His dream you had pulled of and was now leaving gently kisses on his cock, licking the head shyly. Your lips were red and swollen, a product of his passionate kisses and his member. Gavi was almost there. He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could, trying to see you, imagine you more clearly. You were alternating licking at his slit and sucking on his head. He was gone. Moans of your name mixed with "please" filled his room. He wished you were there. He wanted to feel your skin, the smooth warmth under his finger tips. He wanted to hear your voice, soft and silky and telling him how good he was going. He was so, so close. He had never edged himself this much in his life, but he wanted to keep watching you.
The dream you pulled off of the head of Gavi's cock, placing a kiss on it, before crawling back up his body. He tried to capture your lips in yet another kiss, but he couldn't. He felt you drape yourself over his thigh, grinding into the muscle there as you pumped his cock for him. He fisted his own cock at a bruising pace. He would deal with the consequences afterwards. Now he was ready to cum to you, for you. You leaned into his ear, still riding his thigh, one hand wrapped around him, and you moaned out,
"Pablo."
His orgasm washed over him in a tidal wave, knocking the air out of him. He moaned your name out loudly, filling the whole house with his sounds of pleasure. Cum landed on his chest, and he continued to pump himself through the orgasm, thinking of you and riding out his high. When it was over, he calmed himself and worked to slow his breathing. His eyes were still screwed shut, but you weren't there anymore. He was alone and covered in his own load, and he was still thinking about you.
Once he had composed himself (and his legs were stable enough for him to walk, he went to the bathroom and cleaned himself, donning a new pair of boxers to actually sleep in. Once he returned to his bed, he saw his phone light up.
[Doctora]: I just got home. Have a good night Pablo
His chest got tight again as he laid in bed, staring at your words to him. You hadn't forgotten. He set his alarm and laid down, the exhaustion from his orgasm settling in now and making his eyelids heavy. When he closed his eyes, he saw you again. This time you were fully clothes - in one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweats. You were in bed next to him, arm stretched out, beckoning him to come closer to you. Gavi hugged one of his pillows close to his chest, imagining it was you sleeping in his arms, and drifted off.
[Gavi]: Have a good night, doctora. Dream of me
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: not proofread because I don't feel like it. I hope you al enjoy this part! I think this is the last part of 'exposition'/ setting up their dynamic, so relationship building will start in the next chapter, so I hope you all stick with me for the rest of the story! I love hearing all your reactions in the comments, so please don't be shy to comment!