FOOTBALL RPF FIC: ¿Y ahora qué hacemos?

[flywoman]

Title: ¿Y ahora qué hacemos?
Rating: R
Pairing: David Villa/Lionel Messi, brief allusion to Xavi Hernandez/Iker Casillas
Word Count: ~1500
Disclaimer: While inspired by real persons and events, this is a work of fiction.
Summary: David visits Leo in Ibiza. Obligatory post-Atleti announcement Messilla fic.

"So it's official." Leo didn't look up from the table, where he was toying with a battered deck of cards. "I read it on Sport two days ago." He shuffled briefly, spread them out in a fan. "I thought for sure it would be Arsenal. Maybe the Spurs."

David had actually planned to apologize, had dutifully cultivated a conciliatory mood all the way to the beach house in Ibiza, but Leo's passive-aggressive reaction pissed him off enough that he forgot his promise to himself. "I wanted to tell you sooner," he ground out, "but you haven't exactly been easy to track down this summer. For your fans, either, I've heard," he added, twisting the knife just a little.

"You must have been thinking about leaving for a long time," Leo said softly.

David shook his head. "Don't even start with that shit. I tried to talk to you about it all season. You're the one who didn't want to discuss the possibility."

Leo shrugged. He was who he was. That had always been part of the package. "I knew you were unhappy. But what was the point? I don't control the line-up."

"That's a load of crap," David said sharply. "The whole fucking team is built around you, has been since before I got here. I fit in for a while. Now I don't. End of story." He was not, they both knew, referring solely to his position on the pitch.

Leo didn't deny it, but there was sympathy in his eyes as he finally looked up from the table to meet David's gaze. He looks... good, David thought. Rested. Sharper. Ever so slightly tanned. He felt a slow, insidious uncoiling in his gut, a sudden heat in his groin.

"Anyway," David awkwardly. Stupid. This had been a stupid idea. "I just wanted to say goodbye in person. If I could have seen you before the news broke, I would have."

"So this is... goodbye?" Leo asked. They stared at each other, Leo still sitting expectantly in his chair, David standing stiffly in the doorway, the solid oak table a seemingly insurmountable barrier between them.

"Leo," David said helplessly. Mercurial moods aside, he had always been helpless against Leo, that was both how it had begun and why it had to end. "Please. Say something."

Leo's lower lip trembled; he ducked his head quickly to try to hide it. "I don't want you to go," he mumbled. His shoulders started to shake.

David couldn't take it anymore; he crossed over and put a hand on Leo's slim shoulder. "I wish I didn't have to," he admitted. At that, Leo twisted around and wrapped his arms about David's waist, buried his beaky nose in David's belly. David felt himself stir, tried to ignore it as he stroked Leo's soft, subtly sun-bleached hair.

Leo mumbled something unintelligible against his shirt, so David bent down to hear him better. "What was that?"

"There's a spare room at the back of the house. Nobody will bother us."

And just like that, David allowed himself to be led down the quiet corridor, past the bedroom where Cesc was lying down cuddling Lia and discreetly averting his eyes. The spare room was painted cobalt blue, with white trim and spotless white sheets on the queen sized bed. Leo let go of David's hand long enough to lock the door and close the blinds, blocking their view of the bright, empty beach. Then he took hold of David again and pulled him down onto the sun-warmed sheets.

He had somehow expected it to be different this time, but they fit together as they always had, Leo's encouraging moans rising in intensity as David rocked into him. The drops that trickled down his face to cling briefly to his chin before spattering onto Leo's chest might have been sweat and might have been tears.

He came hard, and too quickly, tried to pull out only to be stopped by Leo's left hand on his wrist. David watched, a little light-headed, as Leo wrapped his fingers around himself, his fierce brown eyes never leaving David's face. He only squeezed them shut when he came, shuddering around David with an intensity almost painful to his still-sensitive cock.

Afterwards they lay there together, side by side, looking up at the thin stripes of sunlight and shadow moving ever so slowly across the ceiling.

"Is Neymar going to get my number?" David asked suddenly, even though he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to know.

Next to him, Leo tensed up. "Maybe," he hedged. "I think he's holding out for Thiago's."

David sighed. "That whole situation," he said, "is so fucked up. Why can't he just be patient? Doesn't he realize how long Xavi had to wait because of Pep? And speaking of, what the hell right does he have to go poaching our-" he stopped himself, confused and embarrassed. "I mean, poaching Barça's players?"

Predictably, Leo leaped to their former manager's defense. "Pep's not doing anything wrong," he responded hotly. "Thiago wants to leave. Better for him to go to Bayern than the EPL, at least their style is similar, and then if he comes back he'll still fit in." So much left unsaid, David knew; Leo was far from the only one who was disappointed by Cesc's failure to find an appropriate position in the starting line-up, by Geri's concomitant drop in form since his best friend's return.

"Better for him, sure," David snorted. "It's going to be weird for you guys to play against him, I'll bet."

"Besides," Leo added wistfully, not about to let his own train of thought be derailed, "at least he'll get to work with Pep again." His mouth quivered. David raised himself on his elbow and kissed him to still it, but when Leo choked down a sob, he realized that he was only making things worse. Sighing, he folded Leo into his arms and listened to him sniffle.

"You still really miss him, don't you," David said. It was not a question. He wondered whether Leo would shed the same tears for him, even a month from now, and then felt immediate remorse. At least Leo could cry when he lost the people he loved. David's own eyes had been dry for decades now.

"I can never repay what he did for me," Leo gulped. "He gave me everything. He helped me to grow up."

David had his doubts about the latter and had long ago made a mental note not to delve too deeply into the implications of the former, so he stayed silent until Leo calmed down.

"Sorry," Leo said at last. "I hadn't even been thinking about him much for a while, but then when this happened..." He took a deep breath. "By the way, I'm sorry I didn't call after the final."

"Yeah, well, none of us were really in the mood to talk about it," David shrugged; the memory of their decided defeat by Brazil in the Confederations Cup was still fresh enough to rankle. "Except for maybe Xavi." They shared a small smile.

"You know, Xavi and Iker..." Leo bit his lip.

"What? Surely that's never exactly been a secret," David smirked.

"No, I just meant... Barcelona and Madrid, that's not so far."

David was glad that Leo couldn't see his face. His departure had been a long time coming, and it wasn't, strictly speaking, solely because of football. But Leo didn't need to know that. Not now, not ever.

"We'll see," was all he said, assuming that Leo wouldn't push it, hating confrontations as he did. "I'll be pretty busy with the move, getting acclimated... and you'll be on tour. All those fans in Malaysia and Thailand... you'll hardly even have time to miss me."

But "Don't be silly," Leo said, sounding angry now. He rolled away from David and glared at him. "And don't patronize me. If you want this to end here, just say so."

David opened his mouth, felt the words catch in his throat. "I don't know," he admitted. "I thought I did, but..."

"Think it over," Leo said. David was surprised to see the set to his jaw, how much older he looked than when they'd first started seeing each other three years ago, in the build-up to the World Cup. "But don't take too long."

"All right," David found himself saying, wondering when exactly this encounter had spun out of his control, and concluding ruefully that it had probably happened before he'd even walked off the plane.

Leo leaned over and kissed him, chastely, on the cheek. "Goodbye, Guaje. I'll see you in August."

"If not before," David ventured.

"If not before," Leo echoed, but his eyes were dull. "Give the girls and Luca a hug for me." He got up and left the room, moving a little bit stiffly, probably still sore. By the time David had pulled himself together and reached the corridor, Leo had disappeared, perhaps outside, perhaps just to another corner of the house.

Cesc met David at the front door, jiggling Lia on his hip. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I will be," David assured him. He accepted a hard one-armed hug, kissed Lia, kissed her proud papa, and turned to go. "I will be."