Warnings: Some subtle smut!! Dubious consent!!! Please don't read if you're uncomfortable with unclear consent. Crying during intimacy. Profanity!! Swearing!! Ferran and Martin!!!!!!!!!! ESP MARTIN!!! I'm sorry
Word Count: 11.0K
A/N: please be nice about this one. Is it fantastic? I personally don't think so. But the story needs to progress somehow. God I want to be asleep.
Also, I just want to say that I have taken some, ehem, artistic liberties with time and space in this story. Did you guys know that Real Sociedad is like 5 hours from Barcelona? I didn't. So I don't want to hear any "This is unrealistic because-" shhhh. I know there was a WC this year - I'm pretending there wasn't. I know the Ballon D'or ceremony is in October - surprise, now it's at the end of July. I know it doesn't make any sense for Martin to live next to Gavi because his club is based on the other side of Spain, but for this story, they're neighbors because I said so. Just live in imagination now and suspend your disbelief. Please and thank you <3
"You should start sleeping here."
You looked over your shoulder in confusion, still in the process of tying your shoes.
"What?"
You had never expected Martin to proposition you like this. For the first couple months of you relationship, he had been distant, kind of aloof, just happy to be there, but never exerting much effort into you. The relationship was, for lack of better terms, convenient. But something in him changed when you told him that you had been taking Gavi home. Suddenly, he was ready to become a doting boyfriend. He offered to drive you to work, to bring you lunch, to pick you up from games. If you declined these offers, then he was messaging you, sending you pictures, and he always, without fail, called you on your drive home. You had on multiple times asked him to stop this embarrassing behavior, but it had fallen on deaf ears. He would call you to tell you how much he missed you, how much he wanted to hold you, begging you to come over, all while Gavi squirmed uncomfortably in the passenger seat. Whenever you dropped Gavi off, you would get suggestive text messages, detailing all the things Martin wanted to do to you. Whenever you replied that you weren't in the mood, that you would rather just cuddle and go to bed, you always got the same response:
[Martin]: maybe u should just go home then. come over when ur not tired.
You had now driven Gavi home for 15 days, and Martin was getting stranger and stranger with each passing day. And now, he had gone from seeing you maybe once a week to wanting you to spend the night? You knew jealousy when you saw it, and it was getting on your nerves.
"You drive little Gavi home every day, and then you have to go all the way back to your place. I care about you so much, and I don't want you driving that late at night. So when you leave late, like on match days, you should just spend the night here."
You stood up, moving to grab your coat. You liked Martin, you liked spending time with him, but the idea of spending the night at his place weekly made your stomach uneasy, and you were hit with a wave of nausea.
"I don't know Martin. It's a really sweet offer, but I have a lot of things at my house. It would be a hassle to store scrubs and toiletries and makeup here, and-"
He held his hands up in an 'I surrender' motion, cutting you off.
"Listen, Barca has a game at home this week, don't they? Spend the night here after - try it out. If you don't like it, you can stop." He said, looking at you expectantly. A knot formed in your throat. You wanted to protest, but didn't know how. Martin liked you and put up with you. He was nice to you and was now offering to take your relationship to the next level. So how could you tell him that the idea made you want to throw up?
"Um, yeah, sure. I can do that. I... I need to go now. I'll see you in a few days?"
"Drive safe, baby. I'll text you when I get back from Madrid." He stood from his seat, walking over to you and pulling you into him, placing a deep kiss onto your lips. You returned the sentiment, trying as much as possible to rekindle the spark you felt for Martin when you first met. It was now a dying ember, but one you were desperately trying to keep alive. As weird as he made you feel at times, anything was better than the days when you were alone, sleeping in a cold bed with only the company of the TV and your house plants.
You closed Martin's front door, walking to your car quickly to avoid the bitter winter chill. As soon as you shut the driver door, you pulled up your contacts, looking for Angelika. If you were honest, Martin's overbearing nature had been causing you extreme bouts of anxiety, preventing you from sleeping, causing you to bite your nails bloody whenever the thought of him saying the L word ever crossed your mind. Would you say it back?
You called Angelika, the dial tone ringing throughout your car as you started to drive. After about 4 rings, the line connected.
"Hey, what's up?" She asked, rushed and out of breath, a hint of irritation in her tone.
"Nothing much," you replied, thrown off by the harsh answer. "Are you okay? You sound annoyed."
"I am annoyed. Our model casting director is so fucking incompetent that he thought he could book models for fucking fashion week the week before. So now, all the girls we usually work with and have the measurements for are booked. Taken by Balenciaga and fucking Paco Rabbane."
"I didn't know Balenciaga still showed at Barcelona fashion week." You replied, deciding to park your car on a side street. You slumped back in your seat.
"They don't. Our equally as incompetent head designer failed to mention we had been invited to show in Paris. So now we have no models, no measurements, and we are showing at Paris Fashion Week. I've been sleeping on the couch in the studio all week remaking and altering garments."
"But it's only November. You don't show in Paris until the end of February."
"You think any of the idiots that work above me are going to work from December 15th until January 15th? I need to get everything approved to be part of the collection before they go on vacation or I'm fucked."
"I'm so sorry Ang," you said softly, frowning slightly at your phone. You resonated with her pain - it was soul-crushing to put your best efforts forward and have it hindered by others more powerful than you. You knew how hard she had worked, and how much of a dream PFW had been - now it was becoming a borderline nightmare.
"It's fine, I'll get through it. Did you call for something? Or just a check-in?" She asked, her voice muffled slightly by the whir of the sewing machine. You brought your nails back to your lips, biting down on the surrounding skin.
"Just checking in," you lied, swallowing back your own frustrations, "I hadn't heard from you in a while, so I wanted to make sure you're okay. We should catch up when everything cools down, yeah?" You spoke softly, scared that if you raised your voice any higher you would cry. You felt like you were drowning, overwhelmed by everything going on in your life, crushed by the thousand feelings going on at once, but that was your burden - not Angelika's. You would deal with it by yourself like you usually did.
You exchanged goodbyes with your friend, hanging up the line and then slamming your head into the steering wheel, not caring about the potential bruise that could be forming as a result. The tears were flowing freely now. Your breath was ragged, coming out in short sobs and hiccups as you let out your frustration. The more you thought about the last two weeks, the more it felt like your throat was closing up. Your vision was completely blurry, your knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.
Your memories went back to that God forsaken meeting. The one that followed the last home game at Camp Nou, after Ferran had proclaimed rather loudly that you were creating an uncomfortable situation in the locker room. You had arrived at work at 7:15 that day, unable to sleep the night before, spending over an hour in the shower trying to was Martin's grabby touch off your skin, and staring at the ceiling in fear of your reprimanding. You had looked perfect - hair pulled back, uniform scrubs and shoes immaculately clean. You were expecting to be called into Dr. Gonzalez's office some time around 10am, after the players had already began morning training. Rather, you received a sharp knock on your office door at 7:45. Dr. Gonzalez stood there, stoic as usual, and uttered the most terrifying sentence you had heard in recent memory.
"Mister Xavi wants to see you in his office."
You walked behind him like your legs were made of lead. Several of the players greeted you as they passed, but you returned none of it. Your head was swimming in fear - how bad was it that you needed to be in Xavi's office before morning training. As you knocked on the office door, your mouth had gone dry, and you were shaking like a leaf.
"Enter."
Gavi watched your face pale as you entered the room escorted by Dr. G, and he felt a pit form at the base of his stomach. He knew it wasn't necessarily a positive thing for Ferran to have complained about you, but he never thought that the repercussions would be this severe. A meeting in Xavi's office before morning training often meant a firing. He was frozen in place, unmoving long after the office door had shut, the shove from Pedri being the only thing to make his feet move forward.
You and Dr. Gonzalez were instructed to sit in front of Xavi, one of the assistant coaches leaning on the wall behind him. The crossed hands and deep silence sent a chill through you that you couldn't shake from your bones. You had never been in a position like this before: you were the good kid. The kid who never went to speak to the principal unless it was to receive an award. You had been the perfect teacher's pet, who got along with every authority figure you ever encountered. But now, the face of deep disappointment staring at you was one that you had never encountered before.
"Ms. L/N, I believe you understand why you are in here, but I will explain it plainly. I heard that yesterday before the game, there was a situation in which you were escorted from the locker room because o the complaints of a player. I have spoken with this player, and he has informed me that this is not the first time you have made him uncomfortable. In fact, he attributes his worsening performance to discomfort that you have caused."
Your face was pale. You were holding back tears and vomit. You tried to slow your breathing and heart rate, because the last thing you needed was to have an anxiety attack.
"Obviously, this is not a good look. You are a new hire, and we cannot have the auxiliary staff impacting the players. The assistance coaches, Dr. Gonzalez and I all had an extensive conversation about terminating your program contract."
Your heart beat was in your ears, the bile rising in your throat, suffocating you slowly. This was your dream job, in your hands, and it was quickly slipping through your finger tips because one of the players couldn't stand you refusing to sleep with him. The tears were flowing at this point - it was beyond your control. Everything you had every worked for was disappearing before your very eyes.
"However, Dr. Gonzalez and assistant coach Marco here advised me against it. They instructed me to speak to several players, all who had nothing but glowing praise to say about you. Balde said that he would refuse to play if anything were to happen to your job. So, we have decided to keep you here with us. However, we wanted to take this as an opportunity to remind you: players are the priority. You'll be out of the locker room until further notice. If we get any further complaints about you calling issues, we'll have to consider other people. And your pre-work sessions with Gavi? Those will have to stop. Favoritism doesn't contribute to a positive work environment."
You nodded, tears burning your skin as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure in front of the man keeping your job safe. Dr. Gonzalez stood to leave, and you followed him silently. Xavi called to you before you left his office.
"It's your good work that kept you here. But it won't be enough to keep you here."
You slammed your head against the steering wheel again. What else could you do besides be a had worker? The fact that you could no longer meet with Gavi early in the morning also burned a hole in your very being. Though it would never be admitted out loud, it was the only time you felt like you were genuinely needed. A throbbing pain radiated around your head, blurring your vision further and making it even more difficult to see. Your sobs were loud and desperate, the only way air was entering your lungs.
A sudden knock on your window startled you, causing you to turn in fear towards your left. Through teas, you stared at the figure of a man knocking on the window, saying something to you, but the sound was drowned out.
"Get away from me! Leave me alone! Help!"
You screamed at the top of your lungs. You were fully panicked, as the door began to open, you screamed even louder, kicking at the door and the person on the other side.
"What the fuck, Doctora! Stop screaming and stop kicking me!"
The familiar voice made you stop your movements. The blur from your eyes was rubbed away, and Gavi stood before you, a trash bag in one hand and his phone in the other, speaking inaudibly. The sight of a person had never brought you this much intense relief. Instantly, you were more calm, breathing slowing enough for you to hear what he was saying.
"-not safe out here at this time. Are you even listening to me?"
The glow of street lamp light made Gavi look like an angel. His brown locks were shrouded in a golden haze, light eyes piercing into you. Jaw hanging slack, you just stared back at him, face still burning from the salt water on your cheeks. You bit your lip, staring up with still watery eyes, body shivering from all the energy exerted. The fatigue was settling deep in your bones, and you were sure that you looked like a frightened child. Gavi instructed you to stay put, running to throw his trash away before returning to you.
"Doctora, you should come inside."
It wasn't a question. Gavi was leaning over you, turning off your car and taking the keys. A hand reached out before you, gently and waiting for you to accept the invitation and follow him inwards. You looked up at him, the look of concern foreign on his face. Gavi had never seemed this seriously worried or scared before. You gathered your strength, placing your delicate hand in Pablo's. He gripped you firmly, tugging gently to escort you out of the car. Once it was locked, he turned to you again. There was a tension between the two of you that no one could pinpoint. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, so loud you were sure Gavi could feel the thrum through the skin of your palm. Maybe you should have stayed at Martin's. But something in you whispered that you were so, so happy to be standing here with Gavi.
Moving on their own accord, you pulled your hand away, and your arms wrapped around Gavi, embracing him tightly. The boy tensed, not expecting the sudden display of affection. He stood there for a moment as you clung to him, arms shaking, breath slowing down as he held you. As you calmed, Gavi's heart rate increased steadily. As your friendship continued to grow, the two of you had become more comfortable with things such as fist bumps. But this was entirely new. He brought his arms up and pulled you into him, biceps enveloping you, and chest providing you comfort. As your head rested against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, you took a deep breath, smelling in the scent of Gavi, showered and faintly fragranced after practice.
You had scared Pablo half to death. All he wanted to do was sit and relax. He had seen you before you went into Xavi's office, face looking like you had seen a ghost. He had worried about you all practice. Normally you were glowing: smiling at everyone in the early morning as you sipped your coffee and finished the notes. Sometimes you even danced through Camp Nou, playlist keeping yo hyped despite the early hours. But recently, it felt like Pablo was watching you wither away. You smiled less, you came in with darker circles, and you looked like you were consistently on the verge of tears. He wanted to blame Martin, but he knew that working with the team played a big part of it.
After Ferran's complaint, he had run to the assistant coaches, trying to figure out what the repercussions could be. He was frazzled in practice, wondering if he and the boys had done enough to prevent you losing your position. Gavi became more aggressive. He starting losing his footing more, slipping and falling more frequently, and pushing the boundaries with his teammates. So what if he broke Ferran's kneecap? It's not like he would be debilitating a phenomenal contributor to the team. Lewy spoke to him multiple times, telling him to take it easy, because the aggression did nothing but make him look bad. Pedri told him that hurting Ferran would not erase his complaint against you. But it didn't matter. Gavi still pushed.
This was the first time he had seen you since you walked into Xavi's office. You had sent him a text telling him to find other arrangements for getting home for the next couple of days. This led to some embarrassing shots of him leaving Camp Nou in a taxi, and Pedri took pity on him, driving him home the following day. All his check-up texts had gotten curt responses, and he felt an ache in his chest that he didn't understand. Ever since his little self-love session, he had slowly but surely come to the realization that he wanted to be more than just friends with you. He had tried to keep this information to himself. Gavi knew what his friends would say: he was just being horny and 18, falling for the first girl that had given him a little attention. But he knew that wasn't the case.
Gavi had been around girls. Growing up, his sister's friends talked to him like a little pet. They let him hang around, allowing him to get closer to a lot of the prettiest girls in the town. The older he got, the easier it was to get girls. I'm in La Masia, I'm on the Barca B team, I play with Pedri. Now it was easier than ever. Models, actresses, singers, and other pretty girls threw themselves at his feet, in person and through DMs. There were hundreds of women willing to give him attention. But you? Oh. You were someone he wanted to chase. Someone who made him excited to wake up in the morning, someone that made electricity dance across his skin every time you touched him. You were ambitious and confident and determined. He didn't just like you. He respected you. He desired you. He craved you.
It had been no easy thing confessing this to Pedri. Gavi looked at his loosened laces the entire time, avoiding Pedri's smirk. He had known for literal months that Pablo wanted you. It was obvious to anyone who had seen the two of you interact. He told Pablo as much, making the younger boy blush and cross his arms over his chest. After the teasing had died down, the serious talk began.
"You can't do anything until she doesn't have a boyfriend anymore."
Gavi had texted you that night about meeting him for an early morning session, inventing a new slew of muscle discomforts.
[Doctora]: Can't do before work meetings anymore. Xavi's orders. Come in at 8am exactly if you're in pain.
To say he was crushed was an understatement. Over the past two weeks that you had been driving him, he had gotten closer to you. He learned about your favorite things to cook, about your relationship with your parents, and about what high school was like for you. He has learned that you frequently stopped at the drive-thru to get a post-practice hot tea and a muffin. He found out that you had given up drinking for good. Over two weeks he had watched the string connecting the two of you grow brighter. Now it was being snipped before his very eyes. It felt like he was losing you.
"Let me know if our little nurse likes fucking in the front or back seat more, Pablito. So I know whether to pick her up from Martin's in the two-seater or the SUV. He said he'd be willing to share with me when she finally gives it up. He'd probably let you get a slice of that ass as well."
Ferran couldn't react before he was slammed up against the locker. The sound reverberated around the room, alerting the two or three other boys who were also slow to change after training. Gavi's forearm was pressed into Ferran's throat, making the older boy go pink in the face and claw at his arm for air.
"If you say one more nasty thing about her, as God is my witness, I will dislocate both of your hips from their sockets regardless of who is watching. I will kick you in the teeth so fucking hard your grandchildren will need extensive dental work. Now shut the fuck up, get changed, and go home and jerk off to your own Instagram selfies."
Now he was standing under the street lamp beside his house holding you in his arms. The string was stronger and brighter than ever, wrapped around the two of you. Seeing you slam your head against the steering wheel concerned him, and having you kick and scream at him made you think you were at the end of your rope, terrifying him. Now he brought you closer to his heart, clutching your shaking frame, breathing in your shampoo and the relief that you were okay. He didn't know if he was capable of letting you go. He swallowed the large knot forming in his throat.
"Did... did you come here to see me?"
You looked up at Gavi, arms still around him, albeit shaking.
"I..." You weren't sure what to say. "I just left Martin's house. I was feeling overwhelmed and I just ... started driving. Guess it was muscle memory that brought me here."
You watched an unknown emotion fill Gavi's eyes. Was he annoyed that you came to his street? The closeness of your bodies registered in your brain, and you took a step back, looking awkwardly at your feet. No matter how comfortable he made you feel, there was a line you shouldn't cross. Not only were you two coworkers, but you had a boyfriend who you knew would not be happy if he ever found out about this "under the street light" 40's movie embrace.
"I should probably go home. Um, sorry to bother you."
"No wait-" Gavi said, grasping your arm once more. He stopped you in your tracks, keeping a firm hold on you. He couldn't let you leave. Not now. Not while you were like this.
"You're obviously distressed. I don't want you to drive home right now."
You shook your head, but made no effort to remove his hand from you.
"No no, I'm fine. I should really-"
Gavi shook his head viscously.
"No I'm serious. You were having a panic attack in your car. At least... At least come inside and eat something. Maybe have some tea? Anything. I just... want to make sure that you're okay before you leave me."
With wide eyes, you looked up at Gavi after this statement. His cheeks burned, realizing he had slipped up.
"Leave my house. Just come inside."
His hand traveled from your bicep to your hand, holding it and tugging you behind him towards the house. You followed him silently, allowing yourself to be pulled into Gavi's orbit. The dim lighting of the house and the sounds from the TV made you feel more at peace. Despite it being a bachelor pad, you felt like you were walking into a home.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." You said softly as you moved to slip off your shoes, stopping mid way. Gavi turned around, raining an eyebrow at you bent over in contemplation as he kicked off his Nikes. Your eyes widened in awe.
"You take your shoes off inside?"
"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?"
"Martin told me I was weird for taking off my shoes indoors. He said it's not a thing in Spain."
Gavi barked out a dry laugh, walking to his kitchen and switching on the lights.
"So it's a Spanish thing to track mud and dirt into the house? Take off your shoes, Doctora. Make yourself at home."
You smiled to yourself, brushing your hair behind your ear and unlacing your shoes. You watch Gavi pick up a shaker bottle, hopping onto the counter and and taking a sip. It was your turned to be confused.
"A protein shake? At this hour?"
"Yeah. It's my dinner. Want one?"
"Pablo!" The disbelief was evident on your face and in your voice. You had been working with the nutritionists recently to revise the daily calorie intake for all the players. Gavi needed about 4000 a day. There was no way he was drinking all of them in shakes.
"You need to have a proper dinner! No wonder you're always blowing your muscles out. Where is the dietary fiber? Where are the fats? Do you even have food in the fridge?"
He takes another swig of his protein shake, hopping off the counter. You open the fridge, scanning the shelves. He stands behind you, His chest mere inches from your back.
"Yeah, someone drops groceries off every couple of weeks, but I'm a shit cook. But if you want something for dinner, I can try. Wouldn't want you to go hungry."
You turn to face gave, your faces close enough to feel each others' breath. It was ironic that at this time, a thought crossed your mind: Martin, despite bragging about his cooking skills extensively, had never even fried you an egg.
"I'm a pretty good cook. Want to eat something other than protein powder this evening?"
Gavi looked into your eyes, noticing the redness that lingered from crying. He nodded his head slowly, then looked at your forehead. There was a red spot that had formed with a slight bump from where you hit the wheel. He brought one hand up, caressing the spot with his thumb. It sent a shock through your system. Why was Gavi's touch having such an effect on you?
You spent the next half and hour cooking, with Gavi sitting on the counter, making idle conversation. He loved watching the way you moved, the way that your eyes narrowed in concentration. When you were finished, you picked up both the plates and moved in front of the TV. He followed you like a puppy, watching as you sat on the couch with your feet beneath you. You rubbed your arms together, trying to create some sort of warmth. The exhaustion of working and cooking (with a breakdown in the middle) had set in, causing a chill to wash over you. As he moved to take a bite of the arroz con pollo that you had cooked up, he looked over at you, watching you shiver slightly.
Your eyes followed Gavi as he put the plate down, running to his bedroom, re-emerging with a black hoodie.
"Here, put this on. I don't want you freezing in my home."
You took the garment from him and looked at it. The material was soft in your hands, the smell of Gavi making its way to you. You slipped it over your head, feeling warmth instantly, both internally and externally. It wasn't much - just a hoodie. Any decent friend would have given you one in the cold. But it was more than that. It was that Gavi wanted you to be safe and fed and warm. It was that he was always looking over at you, noticing things without you asking. Maybe this was close friendship, something you were lacking at the present moment. But something felt different. None of your other friends made you feel this way. You never felt a longing to see them like you did with Gavi. You never felt a hold in your chest and an emptiness in your life when they weren't around. So what was it about Gavi.
The two of you ate in silence, watching the show that Gavi had playing on the TV. It was an old Spanish telenovela, something from the early 90s, where a girl from the farmlands moves to the city, and she is caught in a love triangle between her childhood friend and the CEO of a major company in the city.
"Is this show not a little... feminine for you?"
Gavi rolled his eyes at your teasing. "It's the only thing on when I'm home. It's so predictable that it doesn't matter if I miss an episode, because I already basically know the whole show plot."
"Oh really mister psychic? What's going to happen in the show then?"
You placed your plate on the coffee table, leaning back onto the couch, pulling Gavi's hoodie tighter around you. He grabbed a blanket from beside him, draping it over the two of you.
"She thinks that she's not good enough for Xavier, the CEO, so she's going to go back to farm boy Matthias and be with him. But she's going to realize that she's not happy with Matthias because he wants her to be this woman that she's not. So she's going to run from the farm back into Xavier's arms and kiss him, telling him that he accepts her for who she really is."
Your jaw dropped slightly, looking at Gavi in awe. You had never seen a teenage boy so invested in a TV romance. He looked over at you, suddenly shy under your gaze.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because... how do you know that's what's going to happen?"
"Besides the fact that this telenovela has been out for like 20 years and it's cliche as fuck? Because it's obvious. Matthias keeps making all these little comments and asking Dorinda to change all these things about herself. A relationship can never survive if they don't like you for you, ya know?"
You muttered out a slight 'mhm' before pulling the blanket higher up and turning back to the TV. Gavi sat back as well, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, you curled up in a ball, him with his arms draped over the back of the couch, distance just big enough between the two of you to be respectful. As you waited for the next episode to begin, Gavi shifted to look at you.
"So... are we going to talk about the breakdown you had in your car? Or we can pretend it never happened. That also works."
You looked at Gavi, who stared at you with genuine concern and sympathy. His features were soft, eyes scanning you with concern.
"I don't want to burden you with my woes, Pablo. I was just having a moment. I'll get over it eventually."
"You could never be a burden, doctora. Now that we're friends, we get to talk to each other about stuff besides my tight hamstrings. What's going on? You've been... different lately. Ever since your meeting with Xavi."
Gavi watched you bite your lip, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. You took a deep breath before recounting what occurred during the meeting. You watched Gavi grow more and more angry, the heat radiating from his body.
"I just..." The tightness in your chest was so overwhelming. You were done holding back everything you had been feeling. You look up at Gavi, eyes wide and desperate and watery.
"I have been told my whole life that I had to work hard and I would get what I wanted. Just study hard in school and do well in university and do your job well and you'll get everything you dreamed of. But it's not true. I worked my ass off in school and university, and still they only wanted me to intern with the women's teams. I kill myself at this job every day, balancing this with my schoolwork to get my license, and do I get any recognition? No. I get mocked and harassed. I get called a nurse. And my boyfriend..."
You trailed off, and Gavi waited for you to continue. He didn't want any of this to weigh on you any longer. With a sigh you kept going.
"My boyfriend is telling me I'm delusional for being upset. On the rare occasions that he lets me complain to him, he tells me it's my fault. My scrubs are too tight, so Ferran has every right to grab my ass."
"Wait, he's been touching you? I'm going to kill him."
Gavi made a move to get up, but you leaned over, crossing your arm across his chest and keeping him seated.
"You don't have to protect me Gavi. I can handle it."
"How? How can you handle it? One word from fucking Ferran almost got you fired! How are you supposed to get him to stop groping you. And more importantly, why is that your job? You have a man in your life who is supposed to protect you and make sure no harm comes to you. But your sorry sack of shit boyfriend is too busy sucking Ferran's microdick to take care of his girl." He said, face red as he leaned back on the couch with his arms crossed over his chest.
"It's okay, Pablo. I can take care of myself." A tear finally rolled down your cheek.
"I know you can, Doctora. I know you could take on the world if you wanted to. But you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be loved and spoiled. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
You couldn't say anything. No one had ever spoken to you the way Pablo did. No one - not your family, not your friends, not your boyfriend - had ever taken the time to remind you that you were worth of love. The warmth in your chest you had felt all night started spreading through your veins, making its way through your whole body. You felt safe. You didn't trust yourself to speak, so you got up from your seat on the couch and walked to Pablo, leaning over and hugging him. This time he reacted much quicker, welcoming the embrace, rubbing your back softly. You separated and sat next to him again, this time much closer. Close enough for him to pull you into his side if he wanted. His left arm erupted in goosebumps as he resisted the urge.
The silence remained comfortable as you two watched the telenovela, four or five inches all that separated Gavi from your touch. As the night dragged on, your eyelids felt heavier, and your blinks got longer as sleep overtook you. You didn't even feel it when you dozed off, your body slumping sideways. But Gavi felt it as you fell onto his shoulder, breathing deeply. He spoke your name quietly, gaging your consciousness. When you didn't respond, he made a move to look at you, but your soft groan made him sit back. You were asleep on his shoulder.
The weight on his shoulder felt like nothing as he watched you sleep. The TV light was illuminating your features, bathing you in a soft ethereal light. Your hair fell in front of your face, and he moved it gently out of your way to make sure you weren't bothered in your sleep. You snuggled deeper into him, and in doing so, resting your head by his neck. Gavi tried to breathe softly, his whole body tense as to not disturb your sleep.
He tried to convince himself all week that you were just hot. You were just good looking and he wanted you physically - nothing more. But he couldn't because when the thought of you, it was rarely in a sexual manner. He was always imagining situations like this: you cooking with him, cuddling with him on the couch while watching TV, taking naps with him. He was imagining the domestic bliss that all his teammates gushed about. He was imagining waking up to you in the morning and kissing the sleep from your eyes. He dreamed of brushing his teeth beside you as you both messed around before bed. He wanted to look by the stands and point to you, letting you and the whole world know that everything, all of it, it was all for you.
An hour later, when he was sure you were asleep, Gavi tried to shift you slightly. His shoulder began to ache, and he wanted you to get a decent night's sleep. He lifted your head gently, but you stirred in your sleep.
"Pablo... are you leaving?" You mutter, eyes still closed.
His heart felt like it could burst. You looked so small and innocent, so helpless, that Gavi wanted to pick you up in his arms and protect you from the entire world. He never wanted to let anything or anyone, not Ferran or Martin or even Xavi, come near you again.
"Of course not, doctora. I'll always be here for you."
You groaned again before laying down, this time draping yourself across Gavi's lap and cuddling into his thigh. Gavi surrendered, understanding that he would be sleeping on the couch with you on his lap, because in all honesty, it was the only place on Earth that he wanted to be. He set an alarm for 5:30am, and then laid back, one hand rubbing your back as he prepared to dream about you.
You woke to the sound of a phone alarm. The warmth all around you was inviting you to stay asleep, but you opened your eyes nonetheless, coming face to face with a pair of Barca shorts. You shot straight up, looking at Gavi, who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Good morning."
You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water. You had fallen asleep in Gavi's house. In Gavi's clothes. On Gavi's lap.
"I have to go. I'll see you at work."
You grabbed your phone and keys and ran for the door, not even waiting for his response. You drove to your house, going to jump in the shower to reset before work. This had happened before. You had slept next to Martin, coming home the next day and scrubbing your skin off in the shower, wanting to rid yourself of the night before. But as you looked down to strip, you saw Gavi's black hoodie, which you had been too rushed to give back, and you didn't want to take it off. It felt like warmth and safety and something else that you couldn't name. But you removed the garment carefully, folding it on your bed, and treating your skin gently, like a thing to be preserved.
~~~
You wore Gavi's hoodie for the rest of the week. You put it on before you left the house, and left it in your car before walking into work. You put it on once again when you got back to the car. Gavi mocked you for it on the first day, teasing about how you couldn't live without him. You just looked away in embarrassment, unable to admit that, now that your morning sessions were gone, wearing his hoodie on your drives made you feel connected to him in a different way. It secretly made Gavi swell with pride. It scratched the possessive part of his brain, the one that wanted you to just be his. You always made sure to hide it before driving over to Martin's. You had been bickering more recently, and you didn't want to do anything else to set him off, because you knew he would never even attempt to understand that you wearing Gavi's clothes wasn't a romantic gesture.
It was match day at Camp Nou, which usually brought you excitement, but not today. No, today was the fated day that you would have to choose between your team and your boyfriend: It was Barca vs Real Sociedad day. You had been anxious since the previous evening, wondering how it would be for Martin and Gavi to be on the field together after their falling out many weeks ago. The nerves had shaken you so much that your (Gavi's) black player hoodie remained on. You ran around all morning, doing muscle and flexibility tests, and setting up your station on the side of the field. As the players lined up in the tunnel, you walked through, making sure that everyone was taken care of. You approached the front where Gavi stood, but before you could say anything to him, a voice called out to you.
"Baby! What're you doing in the tunnel? Shouldn't you be in a clinic somewhere?"
Despite him trying to put on a cute tone, you couldn't help but be offended by Martin's words. He was essentially calling you a nurse once again, this time in front of two major La Liga teams. The snickers were not lost to you. You turned around and smiled softly at Martin, greeting him. He tried to pull you in for a kiss, but you flinched away.
"Martin, not here, carino. I'm at work." You tried to leave, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. His fingers dug into your wrist, causing pain to shoot through your arm. You turned to look at him, unable to tug your arm away.
"Not going to wish me good luck, sexy? Maybe after watching them practice you don't think I need it."
"He who talks shit first, eats shit first." Gavi's voice said behind you. You leaned into Martin, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and wishing him good luck. He pulls on your hoodie, which you had forgotten you were wearing until it's between his fingers.
"What's this? Isn't this for players? Why are you wearing this?" He asked, eyes dark with anger. He looked at the pocket and noticed the '6' embroidered into the fabric.
"Oh, they had a few made for the staff as well. I need to go and set up by the field." You scurried away from Martin, trying to avoid the stares of everyone around you. You needed to focus on doing your job, not on your relationship drama.
Despite your exit, drama was still bubbling in the tunnel. Martin and Ferran stood next to each other, talking rather loudly to Gavi's dismay. They recapped their boring and alcohol-fueled lives, and Gavi tried to tune them out, getting in the headspace for the game, until they mentioned you.
"You hit yet? Come on, hermano. She sleeps next to you all the time. What are you waiting for?"
"I'm trying. I think I'm going to seal it tonight - no matter what I have to do. She doesn't do booze anymore, so it's been harder than usual. If we win tonight, it's going to be the icing on the cake."
Gavi felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face Pedri, who looked at him disapprovingly.
"Whatever you do, don't get a fucking red. We play Madrid soon."
The game began, and it was rough from the first whistle. Sociedad was playing extremely rough, getting 17 fouls in the first half alone. They were not being merciful in the slightest. Martin and Gavi were on each other on the front left wing, slamming into each other at every opportunity. You rushed on the field for a few head collisions, but otherwise, you spent the game on the sidelines. In the 78th minute, the score was 1-0 to Barca, and they were about to take a corner kick. Martin was on Gavi, with Ferran occupying close space in the box.
"Get out of the way Pablito, the big boys are playing." Martin taunted in his ear. Gavi shrugged off the comment, tracking the movements of Frenkie, who was about to take the kick. That was until he felt himself be shoved in the neck. He turned to Martin, who was staring at him smugly, before shoving him back. Hard. Sociedad and Barca players start to crowd around the two, who are up in each other's faces, inches away from blows. The teams are trying to hold their star players back.
"What the fuck is your problem, cabron? Can't score a fucking goal, so now you want to wrestle?"
Martin breaks free from his teammates, grabbing Gavi by the neck. Ferran watches the two, not interfering as the referee ran towards them, blowing his whistle like crazy. You watch from the sideline, biting your nails to the beds.
"I want you to fuck off and stop eye-fucking my girlfriend. She won't touch your baby dick, Pablito."
The ref is the one to pull Martin off Gavi's neck, presenting him with a red card and sending him off.
"I'm never going to hit you on the field Zubimendi. So you better avoid me when we're not on grass, because I'll knock your fucking teeth out."
Gavi turned to Ferran, who was still watching the interaction. "You've got no fucking loyalty, Torres. And it will bite you in the ass one day. Soon."
~~~
Your drive home with Martin was silent. You didn't know what to say to him. You were terrified to utter Gavi's name, because you knew it would open up the topic of the hoodie again, and you weren't ready to be yelled at. At the end of the game, you kissed Martin on the cheek. You looked past him and saw Gavi, celebrating with the rest of the boys with faint bruises on his neck. You wanted to run over and apologize, but you couldn't, because the man you should be caring about was dragging you off the field.
You unpack your things from your car as Martin walks into the house, not bothering to wait for you. He is eager to get in the shower and wash away the humiliating 3-0 loss he just suffered at the hands of his 'enemy' Gavi no less. You entered the house, staring at the cold, eggshell walls with posters of Martin hanging on them, and a chill ran down your spine. There was something hostile and uninviting about the house. You always wanted to run away, like it was haunted by the spirit of something pushing you out. You changed your clothes, sitting in bed and waiting for Martin to join you. Scrolling through Instagram, you liked all the victory posts on your feed, wanting to support your team, even if you were sleeping with the enemy.
[Gavi]: Hey
[Gavi]: I saw u leave w martin ... hope ur ok
[Gavi]: sorry about fighting on the field
You smiled as you opened the messages from Gavi. Despite their fight, he was still putting aside his hatred of the man to make sure you were okay. Before you could answer, the bathroom door opened, causing you to hastily lock your phone and throw it to the bedside table.
[Doctora]: Read - 11:07pm
Martin approached you in just his towel, still slightly damp. He opened the drawer next to you, pulling out a travel shot of Fireball and throwing it back quickly. He then got on the bed, moving to straddle you, trapping you under his body weight.
"Bonita... you know we've been dating for months now and you still haven't asked me to fuck you?" He said, voice low and sultry. You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. You looked up at him through long lashes.
"I have to ask for you to fuck me? I thought you would be the one to ask if you wanted to do it."
"You don't want to baby?"
You were unsure how to reply. You had never looked at Martin and had the carnal urge to strip him down and have him take you, but sex was supposed to be a normal part of relationships. Maybe you had been unfairly denying Martin of essentially his right.
"I'm... too shy to ask for something like that."
Martin grinned from ear to ear. He licked his lips, bending down and capturing yours in a wet kiss. He was rough and fast, not wanting to waste any time. He tore off the blankets that surrounded you, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. This was the farthest the two of you had gone. He allowed his towel to drop, leaning back to let you admire his already hard cock. You looked at it for a moment before remembering that you should be impressed. You widened your eyes and parted your lips, making a comment about how big it was, and you watched him throb. He stripped you out of the rest of your clothes, kissing your skin roughly. You reciprocated, closing your eyes and sucking on his neck. He moved away, grabbing your chin.
"No markings, baby. You know better."
Gavi sat on his couch at home, TV playing in the background as he stared at the dent beside him. Your imprint was there, although faint. He thought back to that night - the closeness he felt to you, both physically and emotionally. He knew he should have kissed you, confessed his feelings, told you to forget Martin ever existed and be happy with a Barca boyfriend. But he couldn't. He couldn't form the words to tell you that you were the very light that brightened his days, and the cool breeze that soothed him to sleep. He couldn't tell you that every moment he wasn't focused on a ball, he was thinking about you. About the way you laughed and spoke and moved. About the curve of your lips he was desperate to trace with the tip of his tongue. About the way your hair felt beneath his fingertips as he played with it while you slept. He couldn't do it. So he stared at your spot on the couch, glancing over at his phone regularly, waiting for the 'Read' to turn into three typing dots that turned into a little gray bubble filled with your words to him. Just for him.
You lay before Martin completely naked, eyes glued shut. You tried to focus on the feeling more than the person. You let our little moans when he kissed your breasts, trying to encourage him as much as possible so that he would go faster and be done quicker. You heard the sound of a wrapper ripping, and he rolled it on while speaking to you.
"Ready baby?" "Yeah, I think so."
He slipped inside you quickly, groaning into your neck about how warm and tight you were. You kept your eyes shut. You had flashbacks to the couch in the basement. The tears started to prick and burn at your eyes, and you let one fall. He licked it off of you, laughing in satisfaction.
"Is this cock too much for you baby? You crying cause I'm too big? Fuck that's so hot." He said, as he continued thrusting in with no pace or rhythm. You brought your legs up around him, pushing him closer to you, hoping to make him bust quick so that you could go to bed. With eyes still shut, you saw someone else. You saw hazel eyes shining in artificial yellow light, and you clenched around your boyfriend.
"Ugh yeah baby just like that."
The eyes were now replaced by lips, soft and pink, separating into the most captivating smile.
"I'm close baby, so close."
You wished Martin was one of those men who was silent in bed. You wanted to shush him, tell him that the sexy lips in your imagination were about to speak, but you just continued rocking your hips to the makeshift rhythm. The lips parted, a tongue poking out to wet them, before they spoke to you.
"Doctora."
You clenched hard around your boyfriend, pressing him deep inside you, and that was it. He let out a high pitched groan as he came into the condom. He collapsed on top of you, and you allowed your eyes to open, another tear falling, which was quickly wiped away by Martin.
"That was great, baby. Totally worth the wait. Never knew it could be so hot watching you cry."
He rolled off of you and went to sleep, but you were wide awake.
[Doctora]: sorry for the late response
[Doctora]: phone died :(
[Doctora]: yeah im fine
[Doctora]: hope martin didnt hurt u too bad... Sweet dreams Pablo
[Gavi]: Same to u doctora <3
You didn't sleep that night. You watched the clock tick on until 5am, getting in your car and driving to your place. You stripped, throwing everything martin had touched in the hamper. If they weren't your work clothes, they would be in a donation bin. You stepping into the shower and began your hour long scrub. As you moved closer to your upper thighs, tears began welling up again. You didn't regret having sex with Martin, because that's what couples do. But you cried anyways. You cried because you had felt light a fleshlight the way he pumped and dumped in 2 minutes. You cried because he couldn't even ask 'Did you cum?' like some sleazy frat boy who rubbed your left lip vigorously for 15 seconds. You cried because you had sex with your committed boyfriend, and the only way to enjoy it was to close your eyes and think of the boy at your job. You scrubbed your skin raw, pinpricks of blood appearing on your upper thighs.
~~~
Over the next two weeks, you had sex with Martin three more times. Every time, it was the same result. He entered you, you teared up, you closed your eyes and pictured Gavi, and Martin came in under 3 minutes. It had made interacting with Gavi awkward to say the least. When driving him home, you did you best to focus only on the road, trying not to look at his hands or his thighs or his God forsaken lips. After the last game you attended, you were determined not to look at him at all while he was in the car, until he discovered that was your last game before the break.
"You're not coming to our game against Sevilla? Why not? It's the last one before the Christmas and international break."
You had to look at him at this point, but you wished you hadn't. He looked so adorable and pouty, eyes wide with longing. Gavi wouldn't get to see you after this if you weren't at the next game, seeing as he would be going directly from Barca training to Spain National team training.
"My last exam conflicts with it. I'll be able to catch the second half on TV, but there's no way for me to actually go."
"So this is it then? Until January?" He asked, voice low and sad-sounding. He didn't want to let you go. He didn't want to spend the next month away from you. He didn't want to think about the fact that you would be in Martin's arms for the entirety of that break.
"Try not to miss me too much, Pablo. I'll be back before you know it. Kick ass on Tuesday."
He leaned over the dash, hugging you tightly to his chest. You closed your eyes, making sure that you racing heart could not be felt by the boy hugging you tight. Gavi hoped that you would not notice how shaky he was. He didn't want you to know how nervous he was to be initiating a hug with you.
"Oh, before I forget, here you go." You said, reaching into the back and handing him his hoodie. Gavi felt his heart break. For a month you had worn his hoodie almost daily. Why would you return it now? Every time he felt he was getting closer to you, something was snapping the string between you and pulling you away. Did you not want to associate with him anymore?
"I feel bad, keeping your hoodie when it was never given to me. So I wanted to return it to its owner."
Gavi looked at you and smiled. You were so fucking cute. He took the hoodie from you, then reached into his bag, pulling out his body spray. He drenched the hoodie, then folded it back up and held it in front of you.
"I am officially giving you this hoodie. I hope it brings you comfort and warmth. And makes you think of me." He ends with a wink, and you giggle. He leaves your car, sparing you once last glance before waving you off. You left Gavi with butterflies in your stomach.
This is how you found yourself sitting at home, in underwear, tube socks, and Gavi's hoodie, watching the Barca match. You got out of your exam 15 minutes early, giving you enough time to get home and change. You loved watching the games on TV - the announcers made it much more entertaining. You weren't sure if you were hyper-focused on him or the camera just loved Gavi today, but he seemed to be the subject of every zoom-in. He looked so much better from this angle: thick arms wrapped in the tight sleeves of his shirt, sweat dripping from his forehead, hair slicked back and showing off his sculpted face. You pulled up his sweater, breathing in the smell deeply, and subconsciously bringing your thighs together.
The longer you watched the match, the more turned on you became. You started scrolling through Instagram during the game, looking at the fan accounts who posted pictures of Gavi. You stopped on one post in particular. It was a looping video, which showed Gavi on his knees on the field. He lifts his shirt to wipe his face, exposing his V-line. You thought that was the end, almost scrolling before you see it. Gavi runs his tongue across the inside of his mouth, and then proceeds to spit on the field. it was not uncommon for players to spit on the grass, but this was different. The fat glob of Gavi's saliva created a trail from his lips.
You watched the video again. And again. And again and again. You couldn't stop. Your hand traveled down your torso, toying with your nipples, until you reached the hem of your panties. As the video started again, you dipped your fingers past the waistband, feeling instantly how slick you were. Your cheeks burned with guilt - Gavi was your friend. He was someone you worked he. He was several years younger than you. And yet, you moved your fingers against your clit watching him spit on the grass. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you remembered the feel of hugging Pablo, the feel of him against your chest. The beat of his heart. The sound of his voice calling out your name. His raspy 'Good morning'. Would he sound like that when he was struggling to remain in control? You moved faster, soft moans leaving your lips as you worked yourself into a frenzy. You were getting closer, hearing Gavi in your head, until..
Incoming Call: Gavi
You wretched your hand away, embarrassed with yourself for getting off to the thought of your friend, while you had a boyfriend nonetheless. You took a deep breath, wiping your face with your clean hand, and picked up the call.
"Hello?"
"Doctora!! did you see the game? Are you home? How was the exam?"
"Uh... what do I answer first?"
"Actually, you can tell me when you see me. You need to come to Camp Nou."
This made you sit up straight. "I need to what?"
"I need some... emergency care. You need to get here as soon as possible."
You arrived to the stadium frantic, in Gavi's hoodie, some sneakers, and some sweats. You burst into Dr. Gonzalez's office, seeing three doctors all crowded around Gavi. When they parted, you gasped. He had a black eye, dried blood in a streak beneath his eye.
"What the fuck did you do?" You asked, putting on gloves so that you could get cleaning.
"I took a header that was, uhm... kind of low."
You started cleaning with an alcohol wipe, eliciting a hiss from Gavi.
"How low? The grass?"
Gavi went silent, and you groaned and rolled your eyes. You turned to look at the other doctors present.
"Did you guys call me in on my day off to clean up some dried blood and apply a bandage?"
Turns out, you were the only person on staff that could make sure he didn't have any orbital or internal bleeding in his skull. You allowed the rest of the medical staff to take off as you ran tests on Gavi and his swollen eye.
"So, doctora, any plans for the break?"
"I'm probably going to spend it with Martin, since he will be free for all of it."
Gavi scoffed at this. "Right, because he didn't get called for the national team. He gets a month long vacation now."
"He plays the same position as you, Gavi. I knew he would never get chosen over you. You're Spain's golden boy."
Gavi crossed his arms over his chest in satisfaction.
"Damn straight."
~~~
You drove Gavi home, blasting some of your favorite music from college through your car's speakers. You wanted to roll the windows down, but Gavi reminded you that December in Barcelona was not the best time for that.
"LISTEN BABY THIS A LAMBOURGHINI NOT A BENZ, I DON'T EVEN GET THE TIME TO FUCK YOU ON THE WEEKEND-"
"Alright I'm going inside my house I can't stand the yelling," Gavi laughs out as he exits your car. You lower the volume and exit the car as well. You walk over to Gavi, giving him a tight hug. Neither of you wanted to let go.
"Good luck, Pablo. You're going to do amazing. When do you go to Switzerland?" You asked, looking at the pavement rather than into his eyes. You were still embarrassed from your earlier activities regarding picturing Gavi's face.
"We leave in three days, so you don't need to start missing me until Friday night. Until then, you know where I live if you start going through Gavi withdrawals." You both laughed lightly, an awkward silence settling between you two. He was the first to move, lifting a hand to wave and he began walking towards the door. You got back in your car, trying to call Martin. He didn't respond, but you had his location. He was at home according to Find my Friends. You decided to go to his place and surprise him, starting the break together with him. Maybe the two of you could go out and celebrate - him the halfway mark of the season, and you the end of exams.
Gavi sighed when he cam back into his house, slumping onto his couch. He looked once again at the spot where you slept. There was that fucking ache again. He felt a gnawing at his soul when you weren't around - something akin to guilt. It's like the universe was asking him 'why'. Why didn't you tell her that her boyfriend is hot garbage and you could be everything that she needed? Why didn't you kiss her the thousand times you had a chance? He felt a pang from his eye - the ibuprofen must be wearing off. He reached into his bag to find the bottle and pop another, when he feels an envelope. He was instantly curious - when did someone have access to his bag to slip this in?
To Pablo, From Dr <3
He ripped open the top, and out came a letter and a printed photo. It was a picture that someone from the media team had taken when you first started working there, right after the summer international break. Gavi was stretched on the table, with you behind him, helping him stretch out. You both wore deep scowls, your distain for each other evident then. The note was short, and read:
To Pablo G,
Happy Holidays and Happy Break! My salary can't buy you a better gift than you can buy yourself, so here is a picture from the beginning days of our dynamic friendship duo. Maybe we should go back to hating each other - we both look really hot when we frown.
Love, your favorite Physio <3
Gavi, the teenager that he still was, hugged the photo and letter to his chest, his smile so wide it hurt his face. You were thinking about him. You thought about him enough to find a gift, get it for him, and slip it into his bag during his eye exam. Fuck, what should he get you?
His train of thought was cut off by screaming and banging on his door.
"Pablo! Let me in! Get the fuck away from me!"
It was your voice. You were screaming at the top of your lungs, your voice hoarse - like you had been sobbing. Gavi leaped off his couch, running to the door and flinging it open. He felt the wait of you fall into his chest, your body wracked with sobs. Your legs weren't strong enough to keep you standing, so he held up your weight. He clutched you tightly, wanting to keep you safe. He looked up, and he saw who it was you were running screaming from: Martin.
~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hey y'all!! Hope you enjoy part 6!! Maybe I shouldn't say this because I made y'all wait for so long, but I don't think this part is as good as the last one. Part 7 gonna be a Banger tho. Anyways, please let me know your comments, thoughts, feedback, and theories in the comments!!! I love reading everything you guys think about this series!! Also, I love when people find little details/ easter eggs in the writing, so do w that info what you will. Next part won't take nearly as long. Have a great night y'all see u soooooon <<<<33333