Chapter Text
“Ferran Torres García, is that a hickey I see?” Eric’s voice is high pitched as he points at a purple mark in the middle of Ferran’s chest. “Did my boy Mateo give you that one?”
“Eric!” Ferran chastises, quickly pulling his undershirt over it.
“What? You’re the one parading around with a hickey the size of the planet on you,” Eric is very much over-exaggerating the dimensions of it. “I just want to know if my incredible match-making abilities worked out.”
Eric is grinning like a mad man, and Ferran looks like he wants to be anywhere but standing there in the locker room.
Neither of them are saying anything, so Pedri finally interrupts the silence with the question he’s been holding in since the conversation started, “Who the fuck is Mateo?”
“Ferri’s boyfriend,” Eric is smirking, like he just stole sweets from a candy shop and got away with it.
“Eric,” Ferran warns, expression unusually serious.
“You have a boyfriend?” Pedri looks up at Ferran from where they’re both sitting.
“No, I don’t,” Ferran grumbles, focusing on his boots.
“No, he just has a guy he’s been fucking for months,” Eric says, still teasing.
Pedri is… more than a little upset by that. “How come you didn’t tell me about this mysterious guy, then?”
Eric laughs out loud at that, head thrown back, as Ferran glares daggers into the side of his face. Pedri feels like he is outside looking in, which is unusual for the three of them. Normally, they know all the inside jokes and, if anything, Eric is the one who doesn’t always follow whatever Pedri and Ferran are saying.
“Do you tell me about everyone you sleep with?” Ferran accuses, lighthearted, after taking a deep breath.
“Yes,” Pedri answers immediately, sincere.
Ferran seems taken aback by that, and Eric’s laughter doubles, which confuses Pedri further. He isn’t being funny — of course he tells Ferran about his hook ups, he tells Ferran everything. Ferran splutters, seemingly not expecting that answer, and the conversation dies down as they start walking out of the locker room to do activation.
Pedri is still upset when they finish their training session. He keeps looking at Ferran, wondering if there’s anything else he’s not telling him about, and why he would hide something like that from him? The way Eric had spoken, it sounded like it was something that had been going on for a while.
On the drive back home, Ferran is talking animatedly about Pedri isn’t quite sure what, brain still rattled by the revelation earlier. Pedri shakes himself out of it eventually, compartmentalising those thoughts for another time. Maybe he will talk about it with Ferran eventually, but for now, he refocuses his attention on Ferran, who is still going on about his trip to Andorra, Pedri smiling at his antics.
Pedri honestly feels like he is having a fever dream when he steps outside his house to walk his dog. Because he’s pretty sure there’s a guy walking out of Ferran’s house, car key in hand. Pedri is stuck in his place, mouth ajar, Nilo pulling on his leash to move on. Instead, Pedri walks them forward, towards Ferran’s house.
“What did you forget this ti-. Oh, Pedri,” Ferran says as he opens the door, clearly surprised, dogs running around his legs. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
Pedri is already halfway into the house and taking out Nilo’s leash so he can play with Ferran’s dogs when he answers. “Oh, I know.”
Ferran seems confused by his attitude. Pedri doesn’t usually pop up without a heads up, and especially doesn’t walk in without an invite.
“Did something happen?” Ferran asks, visibly worried.
“I just think it’s irresponsible to have someone you barely know over to your house,” Pedri sounds bitter even to his own ears.
Ferran rolls his eyes at that, moving towards the kitchen, where he was clearly in the middle of something, “Mateo has been friends with Eric for years. He isn’t some stranger.”
It’s a fair point, but Pedri isn’t in the business of giving up without a fight. “Well, what if someone saw him leaving and took a picture and put it on the internet? Then what?”
Ferran scoffs at that, “First of all, most people seeing a guy leaving my house aren’t going to jump to sex. Second of all, they don’t give enough of a shit about me to care that I'm having sex with a guy.”
Pedri is left speechless by those words. He wants to fight it, but his thoughts are too jumbled up, words he hasn’t yet processed stuck in his throat. Ferran seems to interpret his silence in some kind of way, because he rolls his eyes and says, “Don’t worry Pedri, if I get caught, you can just tell people you didn’t know I was a maricón.”
The use of the slur feels like a punch to Pedri’s gut. He gasps, but is still stuck in place, unable to react in any way to Ferran. Pedri wants to tell him that he would never do that, he would always stand by Ferran no matter what, but then… why does he feel like this? Why does the thought of Ferran with this random dude make his skin crawl?
“Ferri,” Pedri starts, still unsure of where to go from there. He has to, he knows, so he powers through his self doubt, “I would never abandon you and let you go through it alone.”
Ferran snorts at that, “What good would it do, Pedri? Ruin two careers instead of one?”
Is that what it is? Is Pedri scared for Ferran’s career? His own? It still doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right.
Ferran goes to Nilo, playfully rubbing his head and back, before hooking his leash on and walking him towards Pedri. Pedri wants to dig his heels in, fight back, but, as Ferran places the leash on his hand, he has no words left in him. He walks out silently, mind on overdrive, still unsure why he’s so insanely annoyed that Ferran can’t seem to comprehend what he’s feeling, but mostly because Pedri himself can’t quite put it into words.
Pedri is sure they’re fine. They’re always fine. He wouldn’t even call the conversation they has the previous day a fight. He just needs to figure out why he feels so strange about Ferran and Mateo’s relationship and be done with it.
He pulls up to Ferran’s gate expecting him to be waiting, like he usually is, but there’s no one there. Pedri waits 5 minutes, then 10 and, when at the 15th minute mark Ferran still hasn’t shown up, he gets the message loud and clear.
When he parks the car, he tries to ignore the pit in his stomach and justify why Ferran’s car is already parked on his left — maybe he has plans today which he has to drive to after training and decided to make his life easier.
“You’re late,” Eric quips, when Pedri places his things next to him and starts changing, not actually late.
“Someone decided to drive himself here and not tell me,” Pedri attempts to joke, looking pointedly at Ferran, but the bitterness is evident even to his own ears.
Ferran has a tight smile he barely flashes before going back to messing around with his socks.
“Oh, no, mama and papa had a fight,” Eric teases, apparently oblivious to the obvious tension between his friends.
“No, I just didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea by seeing me leave the house with someone,” there’s a tightness in Ferran’s voice Pedri can feel in his bones and the reference to his words the previous day feel like a slap in the face.
Eric keeps looking between them, now clearly aware of the weighted unspoken words hanging between Pedri and Ferran. Pedri can tell Eric is trying to figure out a way to carefully word his question, but Ferran is already walking towards the gym before he can.
“Are you guys okay?” Eric asks, clearly worried.
What a question. How is Pedri supposed to know? Ferran is acting strange, Pedri feels weird and maybe they’ll never be the same again. That thought makes him physically sick. He has to fix it.
“We will be,” Pedri will make sure of it.
Pedri hates agency meetings. They’re boring, too long and, most of the time, him being there is completely unnecessary. It is part of the job, though, so he begrudgingly drags himself through the agency offices, Fer following not far behind. When he sits down, he leaves the spot next to him open more out of habit than anything. No one else tries to sit there — they know that’s Ferran’s place. He was hoping to talk with him after, so they can solve things. They have been pretty normal during training, and outside of it as well, other than now driving separately. Also, Ferran is always able to make these meetings less stressful and stiff, mostly by whispering ridiculous commentary into Pedri’s ear.
“Well, shall we start?” the director asks, looking up from the laptop in front of him.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Ferran?” Pedri asks, confused, pointing towards the empty seat beside him.
“Oh,” he pipes up again, seemingly taken off-guard, looking around to the other people in the room. “I thought he told you about it, I apologise. Ferran proposed we split your marketing and branding from now on. He said, and we agreed, that since you both have established brands now, it makes sense not to conflate the two as much anymore. We still will connect the communication when it makes sense, during title wins and such. But other than that, everything else will be kept separate from now on.”
Pedri dissociates immediately, ears buzzing, eyes unfocused. His thoughts are spiralling non-stop and he can only make out a few words at a time and Fer’s eyes on him. Pedri is still barely there when the meeting ends, but, as he walks out of the room, Ferran’s presence takes him out of his trance. Before he can think about it, Pedri is walking towards Ferran and calling out to him.
“Oh, hey guys,” Ferran stands up, giving Fer a side hug. “Hope the meeting wasn’t too boring without me.”
Pedri doesn’t respond. He wants to scream, but instead, “Can we talk for a second?”
“Sure,” Ferran says, still all smiles. He turns to the director and adds, “I will be right back.”
When no one protests, Pedri walks them to a small room, to give them a sense of privacy, easily dismissed by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows separating them from the rest of the team. Pedri tries to regulate his breathing and calm himself down, but before he can say anything, Ferran’s expression turns worried.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, placing a hand on Pedri’s arm. Regretfully, the touch does ground Pedri, calming him almost instantly.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Pedri takes a deep breath, looking away from Ferran.
“What did you want to talk about?” Ferran asks when Pedri doesn’t elaborate.
Pedri just stares at him, annoyed, “You know fully well, Ferri.”
Ferran sighs, seemingly realising what had Pedri rilled up. “Listen, I’m sorry, I know I should’ve talked to you and told you about my decision. It was fairly last minute, so I couldn’t tell you before.”
“Yeah, it’s not as if you live next door to me,” Pedri mumbles, looking away.
“I haven’t been home for a few days,” Ferran explains, like that makes it any better. Pedri feels his face harden immediately, the urge to interrogate Ferran overwhelming, but he bites his tongue. They stay in silence, to the point Pedri can feel Ferran starting to get impatient. “Listen, it’s a smart business decision, Pedri, you know that. We are so intertwined as it is, I think a few degrees of separation will be good for both our brands.”
Pedri scoffs at that, “You sound like a PR person.”
Ferran shrugs, but doesn’t fight him on it, “One of us has to be logical about things.”
“I would’ve liked to have a voice in this situation,” Pedri says, voice tight.
“See, that’s my point. I should be able to make decisions about my career without you,” Ferran says, still so level-headed and calm, Pedri wants to shake him.
“It’s also my career,” Pedri spits through his teeth.
“Yeah, and that’s the issue. We’re too connected in the public eye and whatever happens will affect both of us.” None of them speak for a beat, until Ferran sighs. “Listen, Pedri, nothing else has to change if you don’t want to. Or we can change all of it if that’s what you’d like.”
Pedri looks at Ferran, scoffs and walks out, ignoring everyone else on the way out. Whatever. If Ferran wants to blow everything out of proportion, Pedri will let him.