- " ... How d'you say that again ? "
Cristiano shook his head at Paulo's question, not looking up at him as he went on making them his own favorite Portuguese dish "Bacalhau à Brás" .
- " I'm pretty sure the first 10 times were enough for you to remember it, Paulino. "
- " Not a very patient teacher, are you? "
Paulo scoffed, playfully swinging his legs. He was sat on the counter in Cris' kitchen, watching as the older went on slicing the potatoes, immersed in the process of cooking almost the same way he gets immersed in the game. The Portuguese star's ability to do anything he puts his mind into driven by an unmatched focus and passion was one of the many, many things Paulo admired about him.
He couldn't help but admire Cris' natural talent for cooking, as well; although the man's personal chef had prepared the cod for him overnight as well as getting him all the ingredients he might possibly need, but it was the thought that counted, it was Cris' idea to make them food himself that evening, just like it was his idea to teach Paulo some Portuguese whenever they had a chance to.
And the boy more than liked both ideas.
- " Come on now , say it.. " The man ordered as he was washing his hands, getting prepared to fry the potatoes. Paulo squeezed his eyes shut, trying to summon the name to his memory.
- " Bacalhau... à... brásh? "
- " À brasss- " The man enunciated the last -s- making the boy wince at his mistake. In his defense he was somewhat sleepy, and it was somewhat hard to focus while watching the older move around the kitchen wearing nothing but a tight sports trousers underneath the apron.
- " Bacalhau à Brás. " He repeated, voice almost lost in the sound of the oil sizzling as Cris poured the sliced potatoes into it. " BACALHAU À BRÁS!! "
- " Good boy.. " Cris giggled at the boy's yell, he eyed him while putting his gloves on. " You're a fast learner. " He mocked, earning an eye-roll from the Argentinian.
- " And you're a mean teacher.. " He joked as he jumped off the counter, walking towards the man who only smiled at the child-like grumpiness.
- " Now can you tell me what I'm holding in my hands ? "
Paulo switched his eyes between the man's face and his hands, the same big, veiny hands that were doing unspeakable things to him moments ago, and the thought of that as well as the closeness to the man's body and his godly-sculpted naked torso fogged up his focus more and more.
- " Onions and garlic- "
- " In Portuguese. " Cris interrupted sternly, eliciting an impatient sigh from the boy.
- " Estes são, um.. cebollas- " (onions)
- " Cebolas, " The man corrected Paulo who had instinctively went with the Spanish pronunciation of the word. " E? " (and?)
- " Cebolas e... " his mind raced with as much energy it had left before he gave up. " Ffuuuck, I don't know. "
- " Alhos, Paulo. Alhos. " (garlic) Cris said patiently as he started cutting the onions. " It's really close to ajos. "
- " And I'm really close to falling asleep.. " He placed his hand on the man's muscled biceps, rubbing up and down his arm as he whined , " This is borrrring " Cris gave him a side eye,
- " Is it? I thought you wanted to get better at the language "
- " I do...! " He gripped the man's arm, " I wanna speak your language, I just.. can't see why the fuck would I ever need to talk about vegetables "
- " You never know, baby.. " The man shrugged, purposely ignoring the boy's hungry touches still tracing his arm. " You might get asked about your favorite food in some interview.. You know your popularity is growing in Portugal.. "
- " Yeah, I wonder why's that.. " Paulo smirked, leaning in to kiss the man's shoulder, " You can be too obvious sometimes, "
The boy said, hinting at their growing closeness that had become a hot topic for the media. He could not bring himself to imagine what would happen if the media -or everyone else- came to know just how close the two players were, behind closed doors.
- " Not like you're any more discreet. " The other countered, grinning. " I had to coax you out of my arms earlier on the pitch. "
- " Hey, I'm not the one who kissed you during an interview! "
- " Well.. that was partially on you. Gotta do something about that kissable face of yours. " He pecked the boy's rosey lips as if to prove his point, and Paulo let out a low, annoyed groan when the man broke the kiss and walked past him to check on the potatoes. His mind was a pathetic prey to the mixture of horniness and sleepiness, yet he couldn't help but watch in awe as Cris moved so smoothly from step to step without even glancing at a recipe.
- " .. When did you even learn how to cook? " He asked curiously, moving out of the man's way. " Not like you'd ever need to.. "
- " Back when I was still just Cristiano. " He smiled nostalgically before his usual cockiness took over again. " I mean sure, I knew I would make it, even back then.. I knew I was going to be big, but I had to make my own food while I climbed my way up, didn't I?.. Times like these were different to now where you can order food to your footstep at any hour "
- " Nice story grandpa. " Paulo yawned -unironically- and the man shot him a look with no much humor in it. He cleared his throat: " I-I'm sorry.. please continue. "
- " Anyway... I like to relive that part of my life, from time to time.. To let go of the CR7 persona and just be my original self, before all this.. Cause no matter how many houses I own, Paulino, this 'self' is my initial home. The place I'll never tire of returning to. " His gaze settled on Paulo's that was already fixated on him. He stepped closer to the boy, locking their eyes before he added, " And a few people have the privilege to meet that version.. Special people to me, whom I trust and care about, deeply. "
He was towering the boy as he muttered the last few words, looking into the pair of big green eyes twinkling through long, delicate eyelashes, blinking at him with something akin to owlish innocence.
There was no surprise there, though, Paulo came to acknowledge his specialness to the Portuguese legend through his actions before his words: the way he looked after the boy, protected him, brought out the best of him... The man didn't waste any chance to let Paulo -and the whole world- know just how different this boy was.
Still, knowing all this didn't take away the effect of those words. Hearing them come out of the man's mouth in a moment of vulnerable intimacy. And Paulo's cheeks turned pink, his heart danced in his chest as Cris placed a heartfelt, affectionate kiss on forehead.
" Now go wait for me in the dining room, baby. Otherwise this meal will never be done. "
.
Paulo was sat waiting in the dining room for a few minutes before he gave up to his heavy eyelids, and he fell asleep resting his head on the table.
He woke up to the scent of food, and to the feeling of a big, warm hand softly cradling his hair. " Wake up, meu bebê , dinner's ready. "
The boy rubbed his eyes and stretched, taking in the smell and the view of the plates in front of him that were made -he learned from Cris- of sautéed onions, shredded cod, and fried potatoes, all combined with eggs, garnished with black olives and sprinkled with fresh parsley.
- " What about the alhos? " (garlic)
Paulo looked up at the man still standing by his side, and Cris smiled at the boy's forced -but improving- Portuguese accent.
- " You're getting better. " He praised, kissing the top of Paulo's head before answering his question. ".. I just decided to get rid of the alhos, " He emphasized on the pronunciation, correctively.
- " So they got benched, " Paulo joked through a mouthful of food, " Poor alhos, what a wasted talent "
- " You sure it's still the alhos you're talking about? " The man taunted as he sat down at the table across from the boy.
- " Both of us got benched today, so.. " He pointed his fork towards the man. " not funny "
- " I never said it was. " He took a bite of his own plate, " But we made up for it in the second half, so it wasn't so bad. "
- " You mean you did..with that great header you scored. " Paulo replayed in his mind the way the man jumped before scoring an incredible goal with his head. " You were practically flying! "
- " You did great in that game as well, Paulito.. You basically made the second goal happen with your assist. " He watched Paulo's beautiful green eyes widen, his lips curling into a blushful smile:
- " You noticed that? "
- " I notice more than you think I do, baby. And hard work deserves a good meal - now, eat.”
.
- " So.. diga-me.. o que acha? " (Tell me, what do you think?)
Paulo was washing down the last bite with a sip of red wine when he was asked, he blinked at Cris while his mind dissected the question.
- " Muito bom..? " (very good) The fond smile he was met with was enough affirmation he said the word and pronounced it right. " It really was, though.. Muito bom" He did the chef's kiss gesture with his hand enthusiastically, earning an amused chuckle from the Portuguese. " Is there anything you aren't good at ?! "
The other shrugged in response, and Paulo's eyes fell from the attractive, smug grin on the man's face to his hand holding a glass of red wine. " ..What's this? " He pointed at a fresh scald mark on Cris' finger.
- " Ah, right.. " The man glanced at the little burn he had forgotten all about. " I guess one thing I'm not very good at is being careful. "
- " Does it hurt? " Paulo asked as he got up to walk towards where the man was sat.
- " It did for like a millisecond. "
- " So strong... " Paulo teased, sitting sideways on the man's lap " Don't worry, I won't make fun of you if you told me you'd cried. " He spoke in a mocking softness, arms snaking their way around the broad neck. Cris' arm wrapped around Paulo's waist as he tilted his head upwards to meet the boy's mouth that pressed against his own. It was a quick, simple kiss, yet the mere feeling of having the boy's lips on his own had him swooning. It didn’t matter how long they’d been together, each kiss felt like a surprise-gift.
Paulo was the first to pull back, a hand coming to rest on Cris' cheek during their kiss.
" Thank you for tonight, " the tips of their noses were still touching ever-so-slightly as he said above a whisper, rubbing his thumb softly against the man's sharp cheekbone. " That was really.. delicioso. " He leaned down, locking his lips with the man's again in a much deeper kiss, gently pushing at the slit of Cris' lip with his tongue, wordlessly asking for him to open his mouth. And the man complied without a second thought, their tongues tangling and dancing together as Cris' grip tightened around the boy's body, feeling him meltingly relax into his arms..
- " You know what else is delicioso... " He whispered breathlessly against the boy's open mouth, " A certain dessert that originates from Southern America.. Argentina, to be more exact. " He bit at the boy's bottom lip, looking into his half lidded eyes, watching as a crimson blush crept onto his pretty face, " I would love to have a taste of that. "
Paulo barely got time to react to the words as he found himself being lifted up bride-style into Cris' arms, the abruptness of it catching him off guard yet pulling a small giggle from him, and he hung onto the man's neck as he led them upstairs to his bedroom.