Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sebas was close. Roque was hitting him deep with every thrust, and Sebas was barely keeping his moans low enough that Jana and her henchmen didn’t break down the door. Roque had admitted that he hadn’t topped all that much prior to their relationship, and Sebas firmly believed that those guys had been missing out because Roque was a revelation. The man didn’t do anything by halves, and Sebas was certainly benefitting from that work ethic on the regular.

Roque shifted, bracing himself on his good arm to push himself off Sebas’ chest. Sebas clung to him, fingers still buried in his hair, and it was just enough to throw Roque off balance without the use of his right hand. Roque landed on his chest with a laugh, and Sebas echoed it. He eased his grip as an apology, though if he could simply cling to Roque forever he would.

This time, Roque braced himself on Sebas’ chest as he pushed himself up. Sebas reached up and mirrored the touch on Roque’s chest, feeling Roque’s pounding heart beneath his palm. They stayed like that for a moment, lost in the beat of each other’s hearts and in each other’s eyes. It left Sebas breathless even more so than Roque’s rhythm did.

The moment was broken as Roque’s palm slipped, likely due to how they were both covered in sweat. His palm slid up to the base of Sebas’ throat and for one brief moment, he couldn’t breathe. He watched Roque’s eyes widen as he scrambled to take his weight off of Sebas’ throat, completely forgetting that Sebas could easily push him away with his own hand braced between them.

Sebas wasn’t thinking about his own arm or anything as his brain seemed to white out with the mere threat of asphyxiation. Without any input from his brain, his body responded as pleasure overtook any and all sense of self preservation, and he spilled between them with a strangled shout that was definitely going to get them in trouble.

Roque’s eyes were wide above him as he lost all rhythm and watched Sebas simply come apart beneath him. He wasn’t even putting pressure on Sebas’ throat anymore, but Sebas’ body didn’t seem to get the message as wave after wave of pleasure hit him like he was at the bottom of a tackle. Sebas arched beneath Roque, pressing into his palm like he was looking for more. Roque must have gotten the message that Sebas wasn’t even sure he was intentionally sending because his fingers twitched around Sebas’ throat, giving the impression of pressure without actually strangling him.

Sebas moaned as his body arched, and another wave of pleasure ripped through him despite his body being completely spent between them. Sebas wasn’t sure when he’d shut his eyes, but it was the sensation of tears leaking down his face that made him realize it as he slowly came back to himself. He became aware of Roque’s thumb gently stroking the side of his neck like he was soothing him.

Sebas turned his head away as what had just happened finally registered in his mind. He needed to get out of there. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t the first time Roque had wrapped his hand around Sebas’ throat even if it was the first time Sebas had reacted like this. It didn’t matter that Roque was still buried inside of him or that he hadn’t come yet. That was probably worse. He’d just watched Sebas completely embarrass himself, and it had completely turned him off.

Remembering he had control of his own body, he pushed at Roque’s chest, trying to scramble out from under him.

“Hey, careful,” Roque said, clearly trying not to lose his balance again as Sebas shifted beneath him.

“Get off,” Sebas said, giving Roque a hard shove and immediately regretting it as Roque quite literally tumbled off him and barely stayed on the bed. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Sebas reached for him, feeling a confusing mix of embarrassment and concern. He needed to get a hold of himself.

Roque looked hurt as he managed to sit up without touching Sebas. Physically, he looked fine, but Sebas could read the hurt in his eyes. It doused the burn of embarrassment, and Sebas reached for him.

“Sorry,” he whispered again.

They sat there for a long moment just staring at each other until Roque huffed out an exasperated sigh and shuffled up until he could rest against the headboard of the bed and pull Sebas against his chest. Sebas let himself be moved, terrified of further hurting Roque.

They didn’t speak about it. Sebas hoped that Roque believed it was just a reaction in the moment, but he was afraid that if Roque asked him about it, he’d figure out that Sebas had enjoyed it.

That was the problem. There were plenty of things that happened in the moment that tipped either one of them over the edge. A touch, a kiss, a moan. If Sebas really thought about it, there were a million little moments that got them there that had nothing to do with the sex itself. The problem wasn’t that he came with Roque’s hand around his throat. It was that for over a week afterwards, he couldn’t get it out of his head. He felt his fingers there sometimes. He imagined it when he was in the shower. He dreamt about it.

The first time he’d had a dream of Roque wrapping his huge hand around his throat, he’d woken up with sticky briefs and more shame than he’d felt in a while. Thankfully, he hadn’t woken Roque or Cris who’d been sleeping just a few feet away. He’d gently extricated himself from Roque’s hold and gone to the bathroom. Thankfully, he wore mostly black boxer briefs, so it wasn’t obvious that he’d changed them in the middle of the night, but he knew.

He was afraid to sleep after that. What if he wasn’t quiet in his sleep? What if he woke Roque or worse, Cris? What would they say if they found out?

None of it was logical. He knew it wasn’t logical. He knew he was being ridiculous over something Roque hadn’t even reacted to in the moment, but he still laid there at night coming up with different humiliating scenarios.

“You okay?” Roque asked nearly about a week later.

Sebas was decidedly not okay. He had barely slept in days, and it was messing with everything else. He’d been too tired to have sex with Roque the night before, but not tired enough to actually fall sleep. He knew that Roque was aware he was staying awake. It was impossible to hide it when most of the time, Roque slept on his chest or wrapped around him. Sebas had considered going back to his own room, but the thought of Charlie catching him was worse than anything Cris or Roque might say to him.

“I’m fine,” Sebas insisted, moving his food around his tray. The exhaustion was messing with his appetite too. He’d been forcing himself to eat, but he was just too tired today.

“I know sleep can be hard sometimes, but you need to eat at least,” Roque said, acknowledging Sebas’ insomnia for the first time.

“I am.”

Roque gave him the most unimpressed look that Sebas had ever received from him, and Roque had delivered a few potent ones when Sebas had been figuring himself out.

Sebas took a bite of his food. He almost gagged which made him think about Roque’s hand on his throat, and then he actually did gag. He sputtered and choked, and Roque came around the table so fast that Sebas was caught completely off guard when his palm came down firmly on his back to help him clear his airway.

Sebas batted him away and retreated to his own room. It was worth the risk of running into Charlie. He just needed some space. Maybe that would fix him. If he never went within arm’s distance of Roque, he’d never have to worry about Roque putting his hand on his throat.

Unfortunately, Roque wasn’t deterred by something as simple as a door or Sebas’ mental gymnastics. He pushed his way into the room maybe a minute or two after Sebas had entered. Sebas was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands wondering how he’d gotten here. Things had been going fine, and now he couldn’t even eat without whatever the hell that had been. He should’ve talked to Zoe about it because she seemed to get him better than he did sometimes. However, then he would’ve had to put this into words, and he really hadn’t known how to do that.

“What’s wrong?” Roque asked, not bothering to wait for an actual invitation. He dropped down beside Sebas and wrapped an arm around his shoulders like he knew he’d be welcome to even here in the room Sebas shared with Charlie.

Sebas was going to fight. He was going to tell Roque to keep his hands to himself since they were the whole problem. He was going to push him away, but as soon as Roque’s arm was around him, Sebas melted into him. Then his other hand went to Sebas’ knee, and he was back in Italy completely lost save for Roque as his anchor.

Sebas tipped his head forward, pressing his forehead to Roque’s neck. Then Roque’s hand came up to cup his neck, and Sebas couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him. Before he knew what was happening, the shudder shook loose a sob, and once it started it didn’t want to stop.

Roque cursed, pulling Sebas closer to him like he could fix whatever was wrong if he could just fully engulf Sebas. Maybe he could because Sebas had no idea how to fix himself. He was afraid of confronting his own desires, but trying to fight them had only gotten him here.

“Hey, look at me…Sebastian, look at me,” Roque whispered, guiding Sebas’ chin up until he was forced to look Roque in the eye or close them completely.

Roque’s eyes were wide and scared, like the idea of Sebas crying was unfathomable and must mean something terrible was wrong. Something in the devastation written on Roque’s face broke the fragile dam inside him, and a laugh slipped free.

It was funny. He couldn’t help it. Roque was looking at him with the same devastation as when he’d learned his own dreams of the World Cup were likely shattered, and for what? Sebas was afraid to admit that Roque’s big dumb hands wrapped around his throat made him come harder than he’d ever had in his life.

Sebas laughed harder, burying his face in Roque’s neck, feeling embarrassed for how stupid he was.

“Sebas…”

Rather than explain why he was a headcase, Sebas grabbed Roque’s hand and wrapped it around his throat. Roque didn’t fight him, but he also didn’t apply any sort of pressure. It didn’t matter though because Sebas’ body responded to the mere implication. He gasped, not having any control over himself, and the idea of that loss of control only made the reaction that much stronger.

Sebas knew the exact moment Roque realized what was happening. His fingers twitched, and Sebas could feel his breath hitch against his cheek. The arm around Sebas only held him tighter.

“Seriously?” Roque finally asked, and Sebas knew that Roque had managed to connect all of the dots in a matter of seconds whereas Sebas wasn’t sure he’d even managed to connect them despite a week of losing sleep over it. What mattered though was that Roque didn’t sound disgusted.

Sebas shrugged, not actually knowing what to say. Why did Roque have to talk about things sometimes? Why couldn’t he just be inside Sebas’ head, so Sebas didn’t have to give voice to the mess that was inside his brain much of the time?

“Can you look at me?”

“Probably not. Maybe never again,” Sebas said, letting himself be a touch dramatic.

Roque didn’t let him though. He brought the fingers that were around Sebas’ neck up until he had to lift his chin. It wasn’t fair at all, and soon enough Sebas was forced to look into Roque’s eyes or pull away, and he couldn’t pull away.

Roque’s eyes were soft and sympathetic, and it only ignited the embarrassment Sebas felt because of course, Roque was normal about this. Roque was normal about everything when it came to them.

“You could’ve just asked…”

Sebas choked on a laugh. Roque made it sound so simple. Sebas could just ask his boyfriend to choke him during sex like it was nothing. That was completely normal and not embarrassing at all.

The thing was that Sebas didn’t have a lot of hangups about sex. He had a lot of hangups about people knowing he was gay, but the sex part of it was never the problem. Generally, he wasn’t worrying about other people when he was having sex. It was the before and after parts that scared the hell out of him.

“Okay, maybe not,” Roque said, clearly trying to imagine Sebas articulating that. “Has this…since last week?”

Sebas groaned. Maybe he should’ve have just dealt with this in the moment because talking about how he hadn’t been sleeping for a week because he was afraid of having a wet dream about Roque choking him again was definitely more humiliating than it would’ve been to just say that he’d enjoyed it in the moment.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It got in my head and…”

“And the next night when you snuck out of bed to change your underwear…”

This must have been what spontaneous combustion felt like. His face was absolutely the ignition point, and any moment Sebas Sendón would be nothing more than a pile of ashes.

Roque was laughing. It wasn’t malicious. Sebas knew that in his heart. This was relief. Sebas could only imagine what Roque thought had been going on. Roque, who had been through real problems, probably believed there had been something terrible going on.

“It isn’t funny.”

“I thought you were sick or dying. One night you’re normal, and then you weren’t eating or sleeping. I wondered if Olympo had approached you, but that couldn’t be it.”

“I could be Olympo material!” Sebas insisted, pulling back to glare at Roque. If Cris could be Olympo material, surely Sebas could.

“Not like that. I mean, you wouldn’t agree to it…you’ve seen how it affects people’s lives.”

Sebas deflated. Yeah, he did. Not just Roque but Zoe and Cris and Nunu. It didn’t even matter that Zoe hadn’t taken the drug. Her life was even messier than the rest of theirs, and both Roque and Nunu had nearly died, so that was saying something. Sebas wanted nothing to do with them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Roque asked, voice barely above a whisper.

The truth was, Sebas told Roque a lot of things, and the things Sebas didn’t openly say, Roque usually figured out. Like how Sebas felt about the Olympo campaign.

“I don’t know.”

“You can though, you know that.”

Sebas sighed. “Yes, I know.”

“And if you want me to put my hand on your neck…you know, I wouldn’t mind.”

Sebas groaned. “This is worse than you finding out I’m ticklish.”

Roque grinned. That had been another accident which Roque had gleefully exploited until Sebas was breathless. Sebas had yet to find a proper way to retaliate because Roque was not ticklish. At least, Sebas hadn't found a bit of him that was despite his best efforts. Sebas was starting to think that he was just touch starved, and it didn’t matter how Roque touched him, he was going to react in a big way.

“Can we go down and try eating again? I’m worried about you. Javier’s going to notice that you’ve dropped weight. You don’t exactly have much to lose.” Roque sounded concerned again as he ran his fingers down Sebas’ arm.

Sebas nodded, and he let Roque pull him to his feet. He wanted to crawl into bed and make up for all of the sleep he’d missed, but he knew Roque was right. He couldn’t afford not to eat. He’d let Roque handle the logistics. He’d let Roque handle everything if he wanted to.

Chapter Text

Roque pushed Sebas down into a seat with a firm hand. He didn’t let himself wonder too much about whether Sebas liked that or wouldn’t mind Roque pushing him around in other circumstances. He forced himself to focus on the fact that Sebas had run himself ragged for at least a week, and he needed to get some fuel in him before he literally collapsed. If Roque was still his captain, he would’ve given him an earful about taking care of his body. He wasn’t though, and he had to accept that Sebas knew how to take care of himself. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to get him food and pressure him to eat.

It twisted at Roque’s heart that Sebas had been torn up over them. This wasn’t the same as when Sebas had been struggling with acting on his sexuality. Roque hadn’t taken pleasure in that, but there hadn’t been much more Roque could have done. He’d shown Sebas he was interested and that he would stand by him, and it had been on Sebas to decide if he’d wanted to really take that chance.

This time, Sebas hadn’t been comfortable being himself with Roque, and that hurt. Roque understood that sometimes things took them by surprise, and they needed some time with that before sharing, but Sebas had been a mess for a week, and he hadn’t let Roque in at all. All for something Roque had done dozens of times, but Sebas hadn’t been able to see that Roque enjoyed it too.

Roque stalked to the line to get food, feeling his entire body tense at the turn his thoughts had taken. He needed to focus on getting Sebas food and getting him to bed before he fell asleep at the table. He could worry about the fragile state of their relationship when that was done. This wasn’t Olympo. Sebas wasn’t keeping things from him for nefarious purposes. He was just a man, and sometimes he got scared. Roque could deal with that.

Roque stuck to plain food. He grabbed some chicken that looked safe and some fruit they had on display. He’d worry about protein intake and supplements tomorrow. Tonight, he just wanted to see Sebas eat something that wasn’t his cuticles after he’d nervously picked them to hell.

When he came back to the table, Cris was there talking to Sebas like nothing was amiss. Sometimes, Roque didn’t have words for how much he loved Cris. Cris wasn’t without faults, but he was good. Cris could accept people for who they were and stand up for them without question. Cris could clearly see that Sebas was a mess and overlook it with such determination that Sebas probably thought he was doing a good job of hiding it.

“Cap, I was just telling Sebas that he missed the most incredible break up in the sauna today,” Cris said, scootching over, so Roque could place the tray in front of Sebas, like it was completely normal behavior.

“And it wasn’t you and Amaia?”

“That’s what I asked too,” Sebas said, giving Roque an impish smile that completely stole his breath.

Perhaps all wasn’t lost between them. This was just a hiccup.

“Of course, not! Amaia and I are better than ever.”

Roque smiled at that. He was happy for them. Trust wasn’t easy to regain after it was lost, and he was relieved that they were working at it. He hoped that he and Sebas also regained that trust. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Cris’ hair and gave his shoulder a squeeze before moving around the table to sit down.

“Who broke up then?” Roque asked once he was seated. His attention was on Sebas as he waited for him to begin eating.

“One of them was a swimmer. Maria, I think. Her boyfriend is a sprinter.”

Roque nodded, but he didn’t really know who Cristian was talking about. He doubted that Cristian had known them prior to whatever had happened if they even existed, and this wasn’t a fiction specifically for Sebas’ benefit.

Sebas was staring at the food, but he hadn’t started eating. He knew that Sebas wasn’t purposely avoiding food, but after not eating well for a few days, he probably just didn’t feel well enough to force it down. He’d been there before. Roque wanted to question him about it, but he didn’t want to make a scene in front of Cris. Instead, he reached forward as Cris spoke animatedly about allegations of threesomes with others, and he gave the tray a little shake.

Sebas looked up at him. The shadows beneath his eyes were dark, and they highlighted the exhaustion in his eyes. Roque wanted to reach across the table and pull Sebas to him, feed him by hand if he had to.

Instead, Roque grabbed the orange on the tray. He peeled the skin away and broke off a single section before popping it into his own mouth. Sebas’ eyes followed him, but he didn’t say anything. Then Roque pulled a second one and held it out to Sebas like it was nothing. Their eyes met even as Cris continued to retell his story. Roque shook the small slice of fruit, but Sebas didn’t reach for it.

Cris did, bless him.

Cris snatched the section of the orange and popped it in his mouth without even pausing his story. “That’s really good,” he said between one thought and the next, and Roque wanted to kiss him for how easy he made it seem.

Roque took another section for himself, and this time when he held out a section, Sebas reluctantly took the piece and ate it. He didn’t fight it after that, taking a slice for every one that Roque popped into his own mouth. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it relieved some of the pressure in Roque’s chest that he could do at least this for Sebas. Sebas would let him do this. Maybe it would be enough that Sebas wouldn’t wake up feeling even worse tomorrow.

Cris reached in every once in a while, but Sebas would fight him off with a laugh, and it only made Roque greedy for a moment they could do this alone. Would Sebas let Roque feed him? Would he wrap his lips around Roque’s fingertips as he took each section? Would he lick the juices off his fingers? Would he playful fight Roque if he tried to feed him only to give in to the slightest pressure?

Roque used his free hand to adjust himself beneath the table. He wasn’t even embarrassed. He’d defy anyone to imagine what he just had and to not react accordingly.

“You should get some rest,” Roque suggested when Cris’ story ended. He knew Cris would have another up his sleeve if Roque didn’t strike now. Not that he didn’t enjoy Cris’ gossip. Part of living at the center was enjoying the drama of having so many driven people clustered together in one place. He just had more important things to worry about at the moment.

Sure enough, Cris rolled his eyes at Roque’s lack of subtlety. Sebas just shrugged which Roque would take. At least, he wasn’t going to fight Roque about it. Sometimes, Sebas was just so used to fighting that he dug in his heels even when the outcome was something he wanted.

“You coming up?” Roque asked, but Cris waved them off.

“No, I told Amaia I’d see her after training,” Cris said. Once again, Roque was immeasurably grateful for him.

The journey to Roque’s room was slow. Sebas seemed like he was sleepwalking with how sluggish each step seemed to be. When they got there, Sebas didn’t bother with subtleties. He simply stripped out of his clothes and climbed into Roque’s bed. Roque moved to join him, but halfway there, he was struck with a thought.

He walked around to the far side of the bed and dug around beneath it. One thing that Roque knew was Sebas had a sweet tooth. He’d discovered it not long after they’d met each other, long before they ever hooked up. Sebas’ family always sent him sweets, and often enough they found their way into his backpack. Roque had caught him eating them between practices and on the bus before. They weren’t exactly part of their meticulously planned diet, but Roque had always found it an endearing quirk of a man who didn’t let many people get close enough to know him.

Since they’d been together, Roque had stashed some of the varieties of chocolate he’d seen Sebas eat. He hadn’t shown him yet but tonight seemed like as good of a time as any. It certainly wasn’t meal-plan approved, but at this point calories were calories.

He could feel Sebas’ eyes on him as he dug around beneath his bed, pulling the old backpack free and removing a nicely wrapped bar of chocolate.

“What…” Sebas’ words trailed off as he realized what Roque had in his hand. His eyes followed the delicate writing on the candy’s wrapping and widened before finding Roque’s eyes.

Roque gave him a shy smile as he kicked the bag back into place and climbed onto the bed. He didn’t let Sebas have the treat when he reached for it, grinning at the confusion on Sebas’ face.

“Come here,” Roque said, settling against the pillows and guiding Sebas to lay against him.

Sebas went, probably more because of the exhaustion than anything, but Roque would take a pliant Sebas if it meant he was finally relaxing. He wrapped his arms around Sebas then began to unwrap the chocolate. This time, when Roque broke off the first piece, Sebas didn’t fight him. He opened his mouth and let Roque place it on his tongue, and sure enough, he wrapped his lips around Roque’s fingers.

Roque groaned as Sebas sucked his fingertip before letting him go. He had a goofy smile on his face as he enjoyed the rich flavor of the chocolate.

“Hot,” Roque whispered as Sebas hummed in satisfaction as he ate the small square of chocolate.

“Delicious,” Sebas said, sounding contented.

Roque couldn’t feel the tension he’d come to expect in Sebas’ body as he rested against Roque’s chest. Roque never wanted to let him go.

It settled some of the restless energy Roque had been feeling since he’d noticed something off about Sebas. There was a warmth in his chest as he broke off another piece and brought it to Sebas’ lips. Sebas didn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around his fingers again, moaning softly.

That sound and the inherent pleasure Sebas was feeling filled Roque with light. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of Sebas’ neck and tightened the circle of his arms around Sebas’ body.

“How did you know?” Sebas asked, chasing Roque’s fingertips with his lips to lick the traces of chocolate from them.

It was too much, and Roque was hard as a rock though he had no intention of acting on it. Sebas looked like he might fall asleep any moment.

“You think I haven’t seen you sneaking chocolate when you should be taking your supplements?” Roque retorted, giving Sebas’ ribs a gentle squeeze to let him know it was their little secret.

“I take my supplements. They just taste disgusting.”

Roque laughed. “They aren’t supposed to taste delicious. They’re supposed to help you perform.”

“Which is why I eat the chocolate,” Sebas said like it was completely logical to augment their scientifically calculated calorie and protein intake with sweets. Maybe it was because Sebas had never slacked off in training. His body was always ready for whatever he asked of it.

Sebas turned his head to nuzzle against Roque’s throat. He was like a satisfied cat, all warm and affectionate, and Roque didn’t think he’d ever been so content.

He continued to feed Sebas piece by piece until about half of the bar was gone, his fingers were wet from Sebas’ tongue, and Sebas seemed half drunk from either the sugar or Roque. It was hard to tell.

Roque folded up the wrapping and placed the chocolate on the shelf above his bed. He had a feeling it would disappear before he could find a new hiding place for it, but he didn’t mind. It had always been for Sebas anyway.

Sebas shifted in his arms until they were chest to chest, and he could rain down sweet kisses against Roque’s lips. He seemed to have forgotten his stress from earlier or at least settled from it.

Sebas had a tiny smudge of chocolate on the corner of his lip, and Roque leaned up to lick it away. He chased the moan that spilled from Sebas’ lips and kissed him properly until they both were breathless. He ran his palms over Sebas ribs as Sebas cradled his face, and they swapped lazy kisses for long time. The taste of the chocolate on Sebas’ tongue was intoxicating for reasons that had nothing to do with the sweetness.

Roque rolled them until he was resting on top of Sebas. Sebas’ legs easily fell open to accommodate him, but they just continued to kiss and touch each other without any urgency.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” Roque whispered as he brushed Sebas’ hair out of his face before cupping his cheek.

Sebas snorted. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Roque rolled his eyes. “Not at training. I mean here.” He brought his hand down just enough to rest it over Sebas’ throat, and the reaction was stronger than Roque expected. Sebas’ eyes widened, and the most incredible tremor ran through him. A slow smile broke across Roque’s face as he applied the slightest hint of pressure, and Sebas melted like the chocolate had on Roque’s fingers.

“Not afraid,” Sebas whispered, and that was very clear from how hard he was against Roque.

“Good.” Roque leaned down to kiss him, chasing away any doubts Sebas might have. He let go of Sebas’ throat and ran his thumb over his cheek, but Sebas turned his head to wrap his lips around the digit. Roque’s own body responded this time, and he could tell Sebas knew exactly what he was doing as he sucked Roque’s thumb before letting it slip free.

Sebas gave him a smug smile, and Roque laughed. Perhaps they both had some things to work out about what turned them on. They’d work on it.

Together.

Chapter Text

“I think there’s something going on with Roque,” Sebas said, accepting a beer from Zoe as she came around the bar in the cabin. This had become something of a regular thing for them. Often, Sebas was seeking advice, but it was also nice to just have someone to cut loose with.

“I’m going to need you to back up a second. Something’s going on? You mean something other than the fact that Charlie crushed his wrist and him missing the World Cup? Something other than Olympo pumping some crazy drug into him, him losing feeling, beating up Charlie and hurting his arm more? Something other than almost bleeding out in the gym? Something other than getting kidnapped by Olympo and needing a transfusion from the blood loss? Something other than that all that?” Zoe clarified.

Sebas raised his eyebrows and shrugged because obviously that was what he meant.

“Seriously?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, I just mean, hasn’t he been through enough? What more can he go through?” Zoe shrugged, taking a sip of her own drink then patting herself down in search of a joint. Her distraction as she lit it gave Sebas the courage to explain.

“I…don’t know if it’s a bad thing?”

This time it was Zoe whose eyebrows rose. “What kind of something are we talking about?” She blew out a cloud of smoke that Sebas had gotten used to though he never joined her. Sometimes he wished he could just get high with her, but rugby was still strict with cannabis and with how much attention the center had gotten, it wasn’t worth the risk. So, he was forced to explain Roque’s behavior while mostly sober.

“He’s got this look in his eye like he used to get during a match, right before he saved our asses. Like he’s seeing something no one else is or something.”

“What’s he looking at when he gets that look?” She gave him a sly smile like she already knew the answer to that.

Sebas bit his lip not knowing how much he should tell her. He was pretty sure he could tell Zoe just about anything without her judging him. She had covered for him after he completely failed to get hard for her after all, but it was the telling part that was the hardest.

“Me,” he mumbled before covering the admission with a heavy swig of beer.

It didn’t matter. Zoe had heard him, and she was grinning at him like he’d just told her that he’d won some coveted prize. Okay, so maybe having Roque did feel like winning a prize, but Zoe wasn’t supposed to acknowledge that.

“He’s looking at you like he’s going to devour you, and you don’t know what to do?” she asked, sounding too amused by the whole thing.

“No, I said he looks like he’s seeing—”

“He’s envisioning what he’s going to do to you!”

Sebas huffed. She wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the part that had him freaking out.

“So, a couple weeks ago…” Sebas sighed. He couldn’t believe he was going to have this conversation. He’d barely had it with Roque after the whole misunderstanding. Zoe wasn’t Roque though, and while Roque was supportive nearly to a fault, the stakes were lower with Zoe. “Has anyone ever choked you?”

Zoe sat up straight, and suddenly her expression wasn’t nearly as playful. “You’re going to have to back up again. Did Roque choke you? What the hell?”

“It was an accident.”

“I’m going to kill him—”

“What?” Sebas thought about what he’d said as Zoe pushed her chair back, and he realized how it sounded. This was why he didn’t want to talk about it, even if he desperately did want to talk about it. “Not like that! It was while…you know.” Sebas raised his eyebrows, suddenly shy about vocalizing what he and Roque regularly got up to.

Zoe’s eyes widened, and she sank back into her seat. “Oh!”

Sebas nodded. “It was an accident. His hand slipped because he only has the one…”

She nodded that she understood, so he could stop floundering to describe the scenario. Sebas sighed.

“So, his hand went to my neck, and I don’t know what happened. It was a shock and—”

“You liked it. No harm in that…mostly,” she said, tipping her head to the side as she considered her own words.

Sebas chuckled uncomfortably. “I made it a thing.”

This time Zoe laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you did.”

Sebas tried not to take offense to that.

“We worked it out, but now he’s been looking at me like he does, and I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

“Did you try asking?”

Sebas gave her a flat look, and Zoe shrugged at him.

“Fine, you didn’t ask, but you think it has to do with the choking. Pretty sure what I said about him wanting to devour you still stands.”

Sebas sighed. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” It was hard to admit, even if it was obvious.

“You think I do?”

Sebas gave her another shrug because maybe he did just a little. Zoe laughed and shook her head.

“You could talk to him…”

“You said that already.”

Zoe gave him a tight-lipped smile, and he groaned.

“It’s not weird if that’s your hang-up.”

Sebas groaned again.

“Sebas, all those things I listed before like the nearly dying and the kidnapping? The whole way back here, you’re the only thing he talked about. He needed to make sure you were okay. He needed to apologize to you. He couldn’t even stand up on his own, and I’m pretty sure he was delirious from the blood loss, but he kept babbling about you. The guy is gone over you. I don’t think this is going to be the thing that scares him off.”

Sebas dropped his head into his hands. He knew she was right. That was the scary part. He was out of his depth, but Roque was happy to tread water with him.

“One day, it’s not going to feel like everything is life or death.” That felt like a punch to the gut. Sebas was pretty much out now to the center if not the world, but everything still felt scary. He’d told himself he’d manage without Roque, but now that he had him back at his side, he couldn’t imagine doing this without him. So, the thought of scaring him off was particularly terrifying.

Sebas nodded. “Even if it involves getting choked?”

She smiled. “Let’s hope so.”

“I should get back. He had therapy.” Sebas liked to be in Roque’s room when he got back from physical therapy because he was usually feeling pretty down. He didn’t like to leave him alone with his thoughts when he was like that.

Zoe nodded.

“You didn’t tell me how things are with Renata…”

“When I need advice about women, I’m not coming to you,” she joked.

Sebas rolled his eyes.

“Next time.”

“I bet she’d love to strangle me some days, so if you need me to do some research—”

Sebas gave her a playful shove as he got out of his seat. Then he pulled her into a hug.

Sebas pulled his jacket tightly around his shoulders as he stepped out of the cabin. He hated the cold, but the hike to the cabin was the only thing that allowed them even a little bit of privacy these days.

Zoe’s words played through his head as he followed the familiar path through the dark. He wasn’t sure that she’d told him anything he didn’t already know, but her words had soothed some of the acid twisting in his gut.

As he stepped over a fallen branch, he heard something move just off the path. He nearly fell as he jerked at the sound. Turning quickly, he found nothing. He shook his head at himself. Maybe Zoe was having her revenge for how he and Charlie had tried to scare her when she first arrived.

Brushing off his nerves, Sebas continued, but he quickly felt like something was watching him…following him. Sebas picked up his speed just a little. If it was one of Jana’s goons, he didn’t want to have to explain himself.

Another twig snapped somewhere that wasn’t beneath his own feet, and Sebas flinched. As he came around a bend in the path, something knocked him into tree, and before he could fight, his wrists were pinned to the bark. A familiar scent engulfed him as a body pressed to his.

Roque.

His body knew it even before his mind was able to catch up. It was the way he touched Sebas, sure but gentle. Sebas always had the opportunity to pull away even now against the tree with Roque’s body pressed to him, and his thigh pinned between his legs.

Sebas shuddered. It was easy to forget that he could push Roque away. So easy to forget his own power and just give in to Roque’s.

Roque guided his arms up over his head, and Sebas let him. He could’ve shaken Roque’s grip off easily. He barely had the fingers of his injured hand wrapped around Sebas’ wrist. It wouldn’t have taken more than a strong breeze to break his hold, but to Sebas it might as well have been an iron shackle. He was helpless to deny Roque’s intent.

When Roque crossed his wrists one over the other, Sebas didn’t fight. When he gripped them with only one of his big hands, Sebas only shivered. When he brought his injured hand down to skim over Sebas’ throat, Sebas moaned as his entire body ignited in pleasure.

Roque’s eyes found his, and they dared him to tell him to stop. Roque knew him too well. He wouldn’t do it for him. If Sebas wanted him to let go, he’d have to say it himself.

The whimper that broke from Sebas’ lips was not a no, and Roque gave him that satisfied look he got when he knew he was right.

Roque was absolutely right. He’d read Sebas like the opposition’s best play, and Sebas knew Roque was about to make a play of his own.

“Was Zoe going back to the center?” Roque asked. His fingers teased Sebas through the opening of his jacket. Sebas knew he didn’t have much feeling in them still, but that didn’t stop him from knowing how to use them on Sebas.

“No…”

Roque’s smile grew as his fingertips dipped lower until they brushed the waistband of Sebas’ pants. Sebas was grateful that he’d worn sweatpants because Roque didn’t have to let go of his wrists to get them down. He also didn’t have to work very hard to touch Sebas through them.

Sebas was too overwhelmed to say anything else. He could do little more than react to Roque’s touch which grew more insistent as he cupped Sebas through his sweats. He arched into it, biting his lip as Roque squeezed him gently.

Roque didn’t waste words either. Instead, he pressed his body to Sebas’ and rolled their hips together. Sebas’ gasp was barely audible as he felt how affected Roque was as well. He balled his hands into fists though he didn’t fight Roque’s hold. He couldn’t.

When Roque’s hand slipped under the waistband of his pants, he shuddered and leaned into Roque’s body. It didn’t matter that Roque could do little more than press his brace-wrapped palm to Sebas’ erection. Sebas’ body reacted as though he was getting the most skilled hand job of his life. He shuddered against Roque as he massaged him as much as his hand would allow. It was more than enough.

Sebas gasped. He felt lightheaded as the fire in his belly ignited the rest of him. Pleasure pulsed from every point of contact between them, and still Sebas begged for more, pressing his body to Roque’s completely.

Roque squeezed his wrists again to remind him who was in change, and Sebas was lost. When Roque sealed his lips over his in a demanding kiss, Sebas gave him exactly what he demanded.

When Roque broke the kiss, he looked Sebas in the eye and smirked. “Keep your hands where I put them,” he ordered, before letting down of Sebas’ wrists and sinking down to his knees, though not before giving Sebas one last parting kiss that left him breathless.

Sebas couldn’t have moved if he wanted to. He was completely mesmerized by the vision of Roque kneeling before him and peeling his sweats down his thighs. Even the cold air didn’t bring the temperature blazing through his body down.

Roque watched him with intense eyes as he tugged Sebas’ boxers down as well. His hair was in disarray, and Sebas ached to run his fingers through it, but he didn’t dare move his hands. He wanted to be good for Roque.

Roque’s plan was crystal clear, but Sebas still gasped when Roque brought his lips to the head of his cock. His hips jerked of their own volition as Roque teased the foreskin then eased it back, but Roque’s palm landed on his hip and held him there. Sebas moaned as his ass pressed against the bark of the tree. Roque squeezed his hip, and it felt like praise.

Sebas watched as Roque’s tongue snaked out and tasted him. He couldn’t control the gasps the spilled from his lips as Roque slowly took more of him. He pressed the back of his wrist into the bark, feeling the scrape of it as he kept his arms aloft.

Roque moved his hand, slipping it beneath Sebas’ shirt until his fingers splayed over his belly, holding him in place. Sebas whimpered as Roque took his deep, sucking on him until Sebas felt like his legs might give way.

“Roque.”

His name came out a whisper as he pulled back enough to lick the head of Sebas’ cock again. Sebas bit his lip when Roque took him in again. He watched Roque blow him hungrily, and it was just that much more arousing that he could do little more than take it.

Roque’s eyes were wild. He was just as affected as Sebas was, but he never faltered as he took Sebas apart with his mouth. When Sebas began to shake, unable to control it, Roque pulled off of him and dipped lower to suck one of Sebas’ balls into his mouth. He laved at it, humming softly and tearing a whimper from Sebas’ throat.

Sebas could barely keep his legs from giving out as Roque gave attention to his other testicle before replacing his mouth with his hand and giving them a gentle squeeze as he once again paid attention to Sebas’ leaking cock.

No one had ever given Sebas their undivided attention like this. No one had taken the time to learn exactly what drove him wild. No one had cared. Much like he assumed it had been for Roque, sex had always been a means to an end. It felt good, and it led to release both in that instant and of the stress they endured as athletes. It hadn’t really about the other person or what they shared between them.

Until Roque.

Even before they’d shared their bodies, Roque had seen him. He knew how to approach Sebas, talk to him, touch him. Sebas wasn’t always ready for how he responded to that, but he could never deny that Roque saw through the façade he wore.

Now, there was no escaping the almost tangible thing between them. It was sometimes like a little string that tied them together like when they slept in what amounted to a knot. Other times, like now, it was like a raging fire that engulfed them both and only the other’s touch could soothe it.

Roque’s fingers tightened around him, bringing Sebas back to the moment. His eyes were laughing when Sebas met them, and Sebas knew he’d been caught drifting. Roque wouldn’t settle for that. He wanted Sebas’ full attention at pretty much all times Sebas had come to realize.

“Sorry,” fell from Sebas’ lips, and Roque immediately took him deeper.

It was almost impossible to hold himself still as Roque took him so deeply. He pressed his arms into the tree above his head, fingers tingling but unwilling to disappoint Roque. It only added to the pleasure growing in him.

His entire body trembled each time Roque pulled back just enough to tongue the head of his cock before taking him back in. It was too much. Sebas couldn’t be expected to last when Roque was just too good at this.

Sebas barely gasped out a warning before wave after wave of pleasure rolled through him. He was helpless but to accept it as Roque held him steady. Roque swallowed it down before pulling back and letting Sebas spill over his face. Sebas’ might have died for a moment as he watched his own cum splash across Roque’s parted lips and over his sharp cheeks. His beautiful eyes never left Sebas, mirroring the same sort of dazed with pleasure expression that Sebas knew he wore. It was too much, and he closed his eyes as he sagged against the tree.

He was surprised when he felt Roque’s body press against him again, not having noticed him rising. Roque cupped his cheek and guided their mouths together. Sebas gasped, tasting his own release on Roque’s lips. When he tried to turn his face away because it was all too much, Roque chased his lips, demanding more, and Sebas let him take. He’d let Roque have whatever he wanted. Devour him if he needed to.

His breath came in unsteady pants as Roque finally let him breathe. His fingers tingled from being held above his head for so long, but it only added to the pleasure as Roque’s thumb massaged the inside of his right wrist.

Sebas was dizzy, and he felt like he was floating as Roque gave his spent cock a final squeeze before pulling Sebas’ pants back up and into place.

Roque was kissing his throat and his jaw, and nothing else mattered. Roque’s free hand made its way back up to Sebas’ wrists, and he guided them down to his sides again. His left hand never stopped rubbing circles into the underside of Sebas’ wrist.

Another shuddering breath was stolen as Roque pressed their lips together again.

“We should get back before you get cold,” Roque whispered against his lips, only pausing long enough to get the words out.

Sebas didn’t think he could feel anything but pleasure. He wondered if all of the spit they’d swapped had been infused with the Olympo drug, and now Sebas was doomed to only feel pleasure forever. He chuckled at his own thoughts then he turned around and pressed his hips to Roque’s grinding back against his still hard cock.

Glancing over his shoulder, he could read the surprise on Roque’s face despite the lack of light. Roque’s hands returned to his hips as though pulled by an invisible magnet.

“You sure?” he asked, pulling Sebas even closer to him.

Sebas had never been more sure of anything. He didn’t want this to end. Gone was the fear and embarrassment, and in its place was only need.

Roque didn’t need much encouragement before he was digging through his pockets then pressing a condom into Sebas’ palm. He still hadn’t gotten the hang of opening them with his injured hand, but Sebas never minded helping. He handed it back when it was torn open.

Sebas shoved his sweats back down, ignoring the chill that hit his sweaty skin. He wasn’t cold for long before Roque was pressed against his back again. He wrapped his bad arm around Sebas and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

Roque practically devoured Sebas’ mouth as he opened him up with shaky fingers. Sebas twisted, so that they could continue to kiss as Roque pressed into him. Roque was breathless, needing to lean against Sebas as he bottomed out.

The discomfort eased quickly as Sebas adjusted, and soon he couldn’t focus on anything but Roque filling him and stretching him.

When Roque took his wrists again, Sebas groaned, allowing Roque to guide them to the small of his back. Roque wrapped his hand around them and trust into him roughly. Sebas looked over his shoulder to find Roque watching where their bodies connected and where Sebas’ hands were trapped. Sebas’ body tingled as desire reignited.

Any doubts he had about Roque enjoying this as much as he did vanished. Even the bite of the tree against his shoulder couldn’t distract him from how gorgeous Roque was like this. He was all power and determination as he thrust into Sebas. His firm grip on Sebas’ wrists just highlighted his strength, and Sebas’ body reacted to it.

He gasped as Roque threw his head back and moaned. His thrust only once more before sagging against Sebas who took his weight easily. Both of them fought for breath as Roque came back down. His grip eased, but Sebas didn’t move his hands until Roque pulled out and guided him around, so they could kiss again.

Once his hands were free though, he couldn’t take them off Roque. He ran them over his arms and over his chest. He rested one over his heart while the other cupped his face.

They shared breath as they used the tree to hold them up. Sebas chuckled as Roque’s stubble tickled his throat, and Roque just nuzzled against him harder.

“You okay?” Roque asked.

“Yeah.” Sebas pressed against Roque, stealing his warmth and another kiss. They shared a laugh as they helped each other get their clothes back in order. Gone was the urgency and sense of danger. Now, Sebas just wanted to bury himself in Roque’s embrace and never come back out again.

“I think we should actually head back now before we miss curfew.”

Sebas didn’t say anything, but he followed Roque when he finally pulled him away from the tree because he might have come, but Roque still had a hold on him. Not to mention, he still didn’t want to deal with Jana, and she was still enforcing the curfew like they were unruly children rather than disciplined athletes.

“I was afraid you were going to punch me,” Roque admitted as they stumbled down the path hand in hand. Sebas laughed, knocking their shoulders together.

“You would’ve deserved it. You scared the shit out of me,” Sebas said.

“Worth it. You should’ve seen yourself jump when I tripped over there.” He tipped his chin towards the woods.

Sebas laughed because it was so Roque that he hadn’t even been trying to be that scary. He probably thought he was being seductive, then he’d tripped because it was dark out and nearly scared Sebas to death.

“I thought I was in some slasher movie, or Zoe was having some revenge.” Sebas admitted.

“Why would Zoe be having revenge?”

“Charlie and I might have scared her the first time we brought her to the cabin.”

Roque’s laugh was a burst of warmth against his cheek, and it only made him smile wider.

“Amaia was right when she said I only go for jerks.”

“Who? Me? I’m a delight!” Sebas played up his outrage, which earned his another laugh from Roque.

Roque pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I know.”

Sebas grinned against his lips, not worried about the possibility of both of them tripping as they kissed again.

Chapter Text

Roque was passing the gym where the rugby team was doing wrestling drills on the way to therapy when he heard Javier call Sebas’ name. He couldn’t help himself as he caught sight of Sebas stalking to the mat where Lobo waited for him. He looked like some sort of big cat stalking its prey, and Roque remembered him approaching him the exact same way, not a few weeks earlier.

Lobo was a confident wrestler himself, and he waited with little fanfare. Roque wasn’t sure who he’d just defeated, but he didn’t look particularly exhausted, so he had plenty in the tank to take on Sebas. They were close in height and weight, and it was always a good fight when they went at it.

Therapy was forgotten for the moment as Sebas circled the mat before offering his hands to Lobo for a quick tap before they started. Sebas was only wearing his black gym shorts as he slowly circled Lobo who was similarly dressed, though Roque wasn’t really paying attention to that.

Lobo moved first, going in for a grab which Sebas met rather than avoided. They stood head-to-head, gripping each other as they tried to set the other off balance.

Roque could see every muscle in Sebas’ back fully engaged. His stance was wide and strong, and he didn’t give an inch. Roque adjusted himself in his sweatpants as Sebas pushed forward a step and Lobo broke the hold before Sebas could send him to the mat.

The team cheered for them as Javier gave his usual brand of encouragement which amounted to telling them they were spending too much time hugging each other. Roque moved closer to the doorway as Sebas went in for a tack down. Lobo expected it and countered, but Sebas was quick and danced away before Lobo could take him down instead.

Roque had seen them all wrestle countless times. It was a part of their training rotation, but he’d never been so mesmerized by Sebas. Even when they’d wrestled each other and made certain discoveries about each other, it hadn’t been like this. Roque couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Sebas was gorgeous as he moved with grace and confidence. His hair begged to have Roque’s fingers in it. His body called to Roque’s mouth. He wanted to taste ever line of muscle that was on full display. He wanted Sebas to stalk him the way he was Lobo.

Roque adjusted himself again. There was no way he was making it to his appointment on time. Normally, that would annoy him, but he couldn’t tearing himself away.

Sebas attacked again, and he caught Lobo’s leg. In a flash, they were both on the mat with Lobo pinned beneath Sebas.

Roque remembered how it felt to be pinned by Sebas’ body. He remembered looking up into his eyes, realizing Sebas was just as affected by him.

Lobo didn’t waste time gazing up at Sebas, and they both rolled away almost immediately before circling each other again. Lobo was a better rugby player than Sebas, but there were few people who could best Sebas on the mats. They circled each other again, and Lobo made the attack.

Roque bit his lip as they grappled again. Sebas was sweating now, and it only highlighted every contour of his body as he fought. Roque wished he could risk wrestling because he wanted nothing more than to be out there with him again.

Sebas managed to take Lobo down again, and he was panting when he got to his feet. He was a little unsteady for a moment, but he shook it off. Roque’s breath caught as Sebas straightened up, chest glistening and eyes hooded. Their eyes met despite Javier barking orders, and Lobo popping back up.

It felt like Roque was back on that mat, pinned beneath Sebas’ body. Now, it was just his gaze, but it was equally intense.

“Sebas, you with us?” Javier’s voice boomed, and Sebas flinched.

No one seemed to notice Roque standing just outside the gym, but Roque took a step back anyway. He didn’t want to cause problems for Sebas. However, before he could head to his own engagement, Sebas’ lips lifted into a small smile.

It stole Roque’s breath. He wasn’t sure how he could be expected to do anything until he had Sebas all to himself, but life was a bit unfair like that. The moment evaporated as Sebas turned to face the next person Javier had selected. Roque would’ve stood there all day watching Sebas dominate everyone on the mats, but unfortunately he couldn’t. He didn’t wait to see who stepped forward as Lobo retreated.

Therapy was hard as it always was. He’d been through it plenty of times with injuries in the past, but never had injuries been so poorly timed that the biggest tournament of his life was looming as he tried to pull himself back together.

Roque had mostly come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t be taking part in the World Cup, but that didn’t make it any easier. Nearly dying certainly brought that point home, but it didn’t change the feeling that he was missing something so important.

So, Roque did as his doctor asked, and he stopped when they told him to because he still couldn’t feel when he was doing too much. He couldn’t tell them that he didn’t have feeling, or they’d ask questions he couldn’t tell them the answers to. So, he struggled to follow directions precisely for fear of further hurting himself or letting on that more was wrong with him than they were aware of.

By the time he finished, he was mentally and physically exhausted. His therapist hadn’t seemed as pleased as she usually did. She hadn’t said anything, but she’d taken more notes than usual, and she stopped him and corrected him more. Roque had a pit in his stomach as he made his way back to his room.

He wasn’t surprised to find Sebas there when he arrived, but he wasn’t expecting him to stalk across the room like they were back in the gym. Sebas pinned him to the door and practically devoured his mouth.

“Did you like what you saw?” Sebas asked, pulling away only long enough to move to Roque’s throat.

“It was hot,” Roque admitted.

“I almost got hard when I caught you watching.”

“You just get hard for any guy who pins you to that mat? Should I be jealous of Lobo?” Roque teased, knowing it was an absolute lie.

“You think you’re special?” Sebas teased right back.

“I know I am.”

Sebas laughed, dipping in for another heated kiss, and Roque met him with equal ferocity. When they pulled back, they were both breathless.

“You wished it was you pinned down?” Sebas asked, eyes like molten lava as they raked over Roque’s face and chest.

Roque scoffed even though that had been exactly what he’d wanted. “I think it would’ve been you pinned if I’d been out there.”

Sebas lifted his head, grinning. “Whatever lets you sleep at night.”

Roque rolled his eyes, but when Sebas took his wrists and pinned him to the door similarly to how he’d pinned Sebas to a tree, he didn’t fight it. Sebas was right; this was what he’d wanted.

Sebas was still in his shorts and nothing else, and he still smelled like sweat and hard work. Roque was living the best fantasy, especially after how poorly therapy had gone.

They broke apart as Sebas removed Roque’s shirt, but as soon as it was somewhere on the floor behind them, Sebas was back on him. His hands started by holding Roque’s, but they quickly moved down, touching every inch of skin he could get them on.

Roque groaned savoring the touches he could feel and trying to ignore the arm he still couldn’t feel anything in. Sebas licked his nipple before sucking it into his mouth, and Roque’s concerns were wiped away by a wave of pleasure.

Sebas gave equal attention to the other side before pulling Roque away from the wall towards the bed. Roque let himself be manhandled because Sebas pushing him around was hot as hell. When they reached his bed, Sebas didn’t hesitate to take him down onto it like they were really wrestling. Somehow, Sebas twisted them to take the brunt of the impact, and Roque was dazed enough by how good it felt to be treated roughly instead of like glass, that he wasn’t prepared for Sebas to roll them and pin him down again.

Roque stared up into Sebas’ eyes, mirroring the smile he wore as their erections pressed against each other without a single worry about teammates or public indecency. Sebas rolled his hips as he leaned down to claim Roque’s lips again.

The woods had been hot, but Roque was pretty sure that this topped it. Sebas was like a wild animal as he leaned back and pulled Roque’s shoes off and launched them behind them without a care for where they landed. Roque’s pants were next, and he was surprised that they didn’t tear as Sebas removed them with enough force that Roque didn’t need to lift his hips.

Sebas was back on him in an instant, pinning him to the bed with his body and sucking a bruise into his throat that no one would see now that he wasn’t training. Roque turned his head to the side, allowing Sebas to take whatever he wanted.

With Sebas distracted, Roque let his own hands wander. First, he wrapped them around Sebas’ shoulders, but they quickly explored the length of his spine before gripping his ass through his shorts.

“You’re still dressed,” Roque gasped as Sebas pressed a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach.

Sebas didn’t respond to him, settling between his legs and taking his aching cock into his mouth without any warning. Roque’s mouth fell open in a silent moan as Sebas didn’t hesitate to take him as deeply as he could. He pulled back and coughed, but that didn’t slow him down. He brought his lips back to Roque’s erection, licking the tip before running his tongue down the underside of it.

Roque gripped the sheets, forgetting about his hand completely. He needed something to anchor him as Sebas took him apart.

When he managed to focus enough to look down, Roque found Sebas watching him as he slowly took him down again. Roque couldn’t catch his breath as he watched his length disappear between Sebas’ lips.

Roque reached for him, fingers brushing Sebas’ soft hair. When Sebas gave him the tiniest nod, Roque didn’t hesitate to bury his fingers in it.

Sebas moaned around his cock as Roque’s fingers played over his scalp, and Roque couldn’t help himself from giving it a testing tug. Sebas whined around his length, and Roque nearly came right then.

Roque eased up and let Sebas do whatever he wanted to him, but he continued to stroke his hair as he took as much of Roque’s length as he could manage. He forced himself to file the information away because he would most assuredly be playing with Sebas’ hair in the future.

Sebas dragged his mouth off of Roque until he was just sucking on the head, then he let it fall from his lips completely. Roque nearly lost it at the sight of Sebas’ swollen, spit-slick lips as he caught his breath.

When Sebas reached over him to grab a condom and some lube, he didn’t question him. And when Sebas nudged his hips a little wider, Roque let them fall open. When Sebas very deliberately tore the condom open without any help, Roque laughed.

“Showoff,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

When Sebas looked down to realize he was still wearing his shorts, Roque laughed harder. “Get a bit ahead of yourself?”

“Shut up,” Sebas said, handing him the condom, so he could tug off his own shorts and toss them aside. He was grinning as he did it, and Roque couldn’t help but grin back at him. He handed over the condom and watched as Sebas rolled it over his length. Roque wished that he could do that for him without fumbling with it because of his hand.

Before Roque could get down about his slow progress and his increasingly concerning lack of feeling, Sebas gripped the wrist of his good hand and guided it to his cock. Roque followed the silent order and stroked him. It wasn’t particularly coordinated given it was his nondominant hand, but Sebas moaned anyway. Roque was pretty sure he could tease a moan out of Sebas with a particularly heated look, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sebas grabbed the lube and poured some onto his fingers before stretching his body over Roque’s again. His kisses were just as hungry as before as his fingers slowly worked Roque open. By the time he’d opened him up, Roque was ready to beg, but Sebas didn’t need encouragement.

Sebas guided Roque’s legs around him as he lined himself up and slowly pressed inside. Despite how hungry for it Sebas seemed, there wasn’t the urgency they’d shared in the showers when he’d taken him before. Sebas took his time rocking his hips forward as he watched Roque with greedy eyes. He didn’t kiss him until he bottomed out and rather than feel like a bug beneath a microscope, Roque felt seen in the best possible way. Sebas paused when he read the discomfort on his face, but he didn’t try to pull away. He knew exactly what Roque needed without ever asking, and Roque felt dizzy with it as Sebas ran his hand down his chest and wrapped it securely around his hip.

Then Sebas’ lips were on his, and Roque could barely breathe as they shared another searing kiss as Sebas pulled out then rocked back into him. He felt completely full, like his chest might explode with the emotion inside of him as Sebas cradled his face with one hand and his hip with the other.

Roque ran his palms over Sebas’ skin, greedy to feel every inch of him as the pleasure built inside of him. He wanted to be closer to Sebas, as close as they could possibly be. He buried his fingers in his hair as Sebas’ thrust grew in speed and strength.

Sebas cried out as Roque tugged his head back, so he could nip at Sebas’ throat. He was so close.

Like he knew exactly what Roque needed, Sebas’ hand released his hip to wrap around his length. Roque gasped, feeling his entire body light up as Sebas stroked him with still slick fingers.

Sebas moaned above him, movements becoming erratic as he got close as well. Roque squeezed his hips around Sebas, encouraging him, and Sebas cried out. He buried his face in Roque’s neck as he continued to stroke Roque’s cock even as he fell apart above him.

It only took another stroke or two before Roque joined him, spilling between them as his body was awash with pleasure.

Sebas sagged against him, and Roque happily took his weight. He eased his grip on Sebas’ hair and began to stroke it instead. Sebas responded by nuzzling into his neck, and Roque decided that he might never stop, so long as Sebas kept doing that.

They stayed like that a long time, sharing breath and sometimes kisses. Mostly, they just touch each other when they could muster the energy, but Sebas didn’t pull out or try to move, and Roque didn’t rush him.

“How was therapy?” Sebas eventually asked. He’d gone soft and was struggling to remove the condom without making a mess, and Roque was trying not to laugh at him. The question put a bit of a damper on it though.

“Not great.” Roque didn’t elaborate. He didn’t really know what to say. He knew the physical therapist was concerned, but he couldn’t explain that he couldn’t feel anything without admitting to taking a drug to improve his performance. It wouldn’t matter that he was currently ineligible to play; he’d lose his place with the team.

“Did she say something?” Sebas gave up on the condom and dropped it in the small can on the far side of Roque’s bed where Cris didn’t have to see it. Then he pressed his palm to Roque’s heart as he settled himself down again.

“She didn’t have to.”

“Maybe you’re just reading too much into it.”

“I know it isn’t going well.”

“I know how rehab works. I’ve been injured plenty of times, and I know we always think the worst until everything is better.”

Roque knew he was right, but he didn’t think it applied. “Maybe,” he said rather than argue with him. All he wanted to do was hold Sebas or be held by him.

When Sebas got off the bed to locate his underwear, Roque was worried he’d leave, but Sebas came back with Roque’s as well. He shouldered Roque to the side and settled down against the pillows. Roque smiled and took the hint. He settled himself over Sebas.

He let go of the weight of the day as he rested his head on Sebas’ chest. Sebas immediately began to pet him like he always did. He started by rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades, relieving some of the tension there. Then he ran his fingers through Roque’s hair, massaging his scalp.

It was hard not to fall asleep as Sebas seemed contented to simply touch every available inch of Roque.

“Do you have any exercises to do? We could do them together.” Sebas offered when Roque was somewhere between awake and asleep.

“I already did them.”

“Okay, but tomorrow or the next day.”

“I usually do it while you’re training,” Roque mumbled. He made sure he did everything the therapist told him to. He didn’t need Sebas to help him, and he didn’t want to waste the precious time they had on carefully moving his fingers, so he didn’t lose dexterity. It was embarrassing how much effort it took to do something simple. It was also embarrassing that Roque was reduced to this when Sebas was pushing himself to compete at the World Cup.

“Okay. It was just an offer.”

It didn’t sound okay, but Roque was too relaxed to parse out what was bothering Sebas. He’d talk to him in the morning. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t that late. He fell asleep with Sebas’ hands soothing away his worries.

Chapter Text

Sebas tried not to let Roque’s rejection get to him, but it stung. Roque was better than him at this. Roque didn’t spend half of his time afraid of his own shadow when it came to his sexuality and relationships, but Roque was terrible at asking or and sometimes even accepting help.

So, Sebas wasn’t exactly surprised that Roque didn’t want to do his exercises with him. It wasn’t like they were partnered up in the gym or in training in the past. Maybe that was partly Sebas’ doing because he didn’t want to get too close to Roque when they were with the team, but there was no reason for that now. Unless, Roque just didn’t want his help because he didn’t see it as necessary.

It was ridiculous, but it stayed on Sebas’ mind when he left for training the next day. The problem wasn’t Roque but the team. They’d all watched Charlie humiliate him after the trailer. They’d watched Roque lose his mind. Now, Sebas had to go to training every day and live with that.

Mostly, it was just awkward. If he didn’t pair up with Cristian, he found himself scrambling for a partner. Lobo treated him mostly the same, but Charlie was going out of his way to replace Sebas with Lobo. So, it wasn’t like the reception that Roque had faced, but it still felt like Sebas didn’t have a place, not with the team and sometimes not with Roque.

Sebas loved that Roque cared for him. He loved that Roque took the time to think of things that would turn him on and then did them. He didn’t love that the tables weren’t often turned, or that last night had ended with Roque’s small but significant rejection. It wasn’t so much the exercises that bothered Sebas but the fact that Roque kept him in the dark about everything to do with Olympo. Maybe that had been Sebas’ fault at the start, but Roque had let them give him an injection that would miraculously fix his hand, and he didn’t tell Sebas anything until he nearly died from it.

Sebas shook himself as he reset the weights on the bench. Usually, he’d be here with Charlie at this hour, but now it was just him. He’d thought about asking Cristian, but he was meeting up with Roque and Zoe about Olympo. Sebas figured he could’ve gone to that, but no one had actually invited him. So, Sebas was left alone in the gym.

He settled on the bench and tried to clear his mind. Roque had been tired. He’d meant nothing by it when he said he didn’t need Sebas’ help. He was used to doing things alone, so there was no reason for Sebas to help him.

There was still a pit in his stomach as he wrapped his fingers around the bar and pushed it up. He controlled his breathing as he brought the bar down to his chest, feeling the burn of the increased weight. He pushed it back up and continued the cycle.

He did his best to keep his mind clear as he worked out, knowing that it didn’t take much of a distraction to lead to disaster. So, he finished his set and adjusted the weight again without thinking about Roque, Olympo, or anything else that was messed up in his life.

As he settled on the bench again, he had the stray thought that he should’ve asked Renata to join him. She was always happy to work out, and she probably could’ve spotted him with no trouble. She wasn’t much for conversation, but he could usually get her to laugh if he tried hard enough. Not to mention, they could commiserate about being left out of Zoe, Roque, and Cristian’s little club.

He was halfway through his final set when the lights went out. There was no warning. It wasn’t like there was a storm. The gym just went dark.

Sebas nearly dropped the bar on his chest because he flinched so hard at the sudden darkness. He caught it in a deep press, but he was already tired from working out and a day of training. The added adrenaline from the scare only served to make it harder rather than easier to push the bar up.

When the lights didn’t go on immediately, Sebas wondered what was happening. Had the whole facility lost power, or was someone messing with him? Was it Charlie?

It didn’t really matter who it might be because Sebas was struggling enough to get the bar up and onto the rack. He knew it was the confusion of what was going on rather than his strength, but it was the hardest press of his life as he pushed the bar off his chest. When he got it up, his arms felt like jelly as he searched for the rack in the dark. It should’ve been easy to find. It was only a few inches away, but he couldn’t get it right, and the bar kept slipping down when he thought it would catch.

Sweat was dripping down his face as he struggled. He cursed himself for not having found someone to work out with. When his arms couldn’t take it anymore, he lowered the bar as carefully to his chest as he could. He gritted his teeth and rolled his body until he felt the bar dip and the weights begin to slide.

When the first weight dropped, the bar jerked up and the weight fell off the other side. It was loud and disorienting, but Sebas was able to get out from beneath the bar.

He sank to the floor, catching his breath. His pulse raced as he tried to get a hold of himself. That had been a close call, and it really shouldn’t have been. His breath sawed in and out of him as he rubbed his chest where the bar had pressed down on him.

The lights flickered on, and one of Jana’s security people walked in.

“What’s going on in here?” he demanded as Sebas blinked at the sudden wash of light.

“I was lifting, and the lights went out!” Sebas said defensively.

“Why’d you turn them out?”

“I didn’t! How would I turn them out while I was on the bench?” Sebas motioned to the bench he’d clearly been lying on.

The man threatened to pull the tapes like Sebas could somehow be in two places at once, but he left after barking about putting things back the way they should be.

Sebas sagged against the bench, realizing that it hadn’t been the whole building. He knew it was Charlie without needing any tapes. He cursed to himself as he struggled to his feet and began moving the weights back to the racks. When he was done, he headed for Roque’s room rather than the showers. He didn’t want to admit that he was afraid to go in there alone.

Roque wasn’t there when he arrived, so Sebas used his and Cristian’s shower. His arms still felt wrong because of what happened, but there wasn’t much he could do for it other than making the water as hot as he could.

The whole ordeal made the sting of Roque’s rejection just a little bit worse. Sebas had worked hard to find a place at the facility. Perhaps aligning himself with Charlie hadn’t been the healthiest choice, but he’d had a friend and roommate and a place in the hierarchy.

Now, he was trying to find his footing again. Everyone had seen him kissing Roque, and at least some of them believed it was for attention because Sebas knew he’d have thought the same. The problem was that Sebas didn’t want any sort of attention that wasn’t entirely focused on his rugby skills.

“Hey, you alright?” Roque’s voice was on the other side of the curtain, and Sebas realized that he’d been in there long enough for his fingers to start wrinkling. He imagined the water would’ve gone cold if he’d been anywhere that wasn’t a state-of-the-art facility.

“Yeah, sorry. Did you need to shower?” Sebas said, rinsing himself off and turning the water off.

“No, you’ve just been in there awhile. Cris was a little concerned that you’d drowned.” Roque was holding his towel for him when he pushed the curtain open.

Sebas stepped out of the shower, and Roque wrapped the towel around him. It was sweet, and Sebas smiled as Roque pulled him into a kiss. It also started sweet but quickly turned heated as Roque’s tongue teased his lip.

“How was your workout?” Roque asked, bumping the tip of his nose against Sebas.

“Good,” Sebas lied because what else was he going to say? He couldn’t prove it had been Charlie. Even if he could, it wasn’t like Charlie had actually done anything to him, and Sebas wasn’t about to go running to Roque even if he had. He could handle himself even if that day in the gym hadn’t made it seem that way.

He certainly didn’t want to be responsible for Roque hurting himself worse again. The knowledge that Roque went after Charlie because of him still weighed on him. Sure, Roque had been fighting for himself as well. He couldn’t have let Charlie get away with telling the whole team he’d injured the captain of their team and arguable their best player without some sort of retribution. However, he'd approached Charlie because of Sebas.

Roque smiled at him, completely oblivious to his thoughts.

“How was the cabin?” Sebas changed the subject.

Roque shrugged. “Not really making the progress we’d like to,” he admitted.

“You have each other,” Sebas said, ignoring the way his chest tightened. They had each other. They weren’t alone, not the way Sebas was with the team or in the gym.

“We do,” Roque agreed, squeezing Sebas like he included Sebas in that, but Sebas wasn’t a part of their group. Sebas hadn’t been chosen for Olympo, and he didn’t know all the details of what they’d gone through. He wasn’t a part of anything.

“You sure everything’s okay?” Roque asked as Sebas shivered.

“I’m fine.”

“I didn’t do something? You know—”

“I know I can tell you. No, I’m not freaking out over anything. I’m just tired and sore.”

“I can help with that,” Roque said, giving Sebas that seductive smile he usually enjoyed.

Sebas was tempted to tell him that he could handle it himself like how Roque could handle his exercises, but he knew that wasn’t fair. So, he nodded and let Roque wrap the towel around his waist rather than his shoulders. Then he let Roque lead him out of the bathroom.

Cris was sitting on his bed, typing away at his phone. Sebas assumed he wouldn’t stick around for long if he was texting Amaia.

Sebas went over to the drawer that Roque had cleared for him and found some underwear. He just stared at his clothes for a moment and reminded himself that Roque wouldn’t have made space for his stuff if he didn’t want him around. He wouldn’t have literally given Sebas a drawer if he didn’t want him.

Roque was still giving him that concerned look when Sebas turned to him on the bed. He didn’t ask again though, and Sebas was grateful because he didn’t want Cris thinking that something was wrong. Cris wouldn’t be nearly as tactful as Roque, and he would pester Sebas as soon as they were alone.

So, Sebas just got onto the bed and let Roque push him onto his stomach.

“How are you going to do anything with only one hand?” Sebas asked as Roque straddled his ass. He’d imagined Roque kissing him and touching him, not giving him an actual massage.

“I’ll be fine,” Roque insisted, reaching over him to the shelf above his bed.

“Hey, I don’t need to see that,” Cris laughed when Roque pulled the lube from its usually hiding spot.

“Shut up. He’s sore, and I don’t have oil.”

“I don’t need to know about that!” Cris was still laughing, very clearly intentionally misunderstanding Roque.

“Like I haven’t rubbed your back before.”

“What do you mean, you’ve rubbed his back?” Sebas joined in, but Roque punched his shoulder for his cheekiness.

Sebas gasped, realizing he’d definitely done a little more damage than he’d thought while he was trapped on the bench.

“What’s wrong? I barely hit you?”

Of course, Roque noticed, and his tone was once again concerned.

“I said I was sore…”

A slick hand immediately touched his shoulder, and Sebas groaned as Roque immediately found the problem again. Sebas didn’t fight it as Roque worked on the angry muscles with just his one hand. Despite it being his nondominant hand, Roque still had the strength to dig into the knots. Slowly, it began to feel good, and eventually he even relaxed into Roque’s strong touch.

When Roque’s hand moved to his back, Sebas sighed. This was perfect. Roque had amazing hands, and all of Sebas’ protests disappeared as he worked out the tension Sebas had been carrying around. Sometimes, it was a little awkward, but when Roque couldn’t manage it with his hand, he used his elbow to dig in.

“I’m jealous,” Cristian grumbled, and Sebas opened his eyes to find Cris had put down his phone but was pulling on a sweatshirt, so he was probably going to find Amaia.

“I’m sure Amaia could work out your knots,” Sebas said, and both Roque and Cris laughed.

“I’d be afraid. She might just crush me.” Cris said, and Roque seemed to agree.

When he left, Roque leaned forward and pressed a kiss between Sebas’ shoulder blades. Sebas hummed contentedly as Roque continued to find the spots that ached without even having to ask. It probably didn’t hurt that he’d been training for rugby longer than Sebas had, so he probably knew every area that training tended to leave one hurting. He was slow and methodical, taking time to work on either side of Sebas’ back since he could only do one at a time.

Sebas let himself float in the euphoria of Roque’s touch and the relief it brought. Nothing else mattered when Roque was touching him.

“How’s that feel?” Roque asked as he found the spot Sebas always carried tension due to tackling and getting jarred during drills.

Sebas moaned.

“That good?”

“Yes.”

“I actually feel useful,” Roque admitted. Sebas could tell he was trying to make it sound like a joke, but he meant it.

“You’re useful even if you can’t play right now.” Sebas knew how he felt. They hadn’t made it to where they were without making rugby their entire life. Any setback or injury was devasting. Any time missed was hard to overcome when competing for a space that someone could easily fill.

“You’re not usually this tense,” Roque changed the subject.

Sebas let him because he’d come dangerously close to telling Roque he loved him, like that could somehow make up for how useless Roque was feeling. Sebas couldn’t risk the rejection or the brush off that his feelings didn’t mean as much as rugby. It was stupid really. He didn’t even know what love was. It was just a silly idea.

“Training has been intense,” Sebas brushed it off.

Roque hummed in agreement, but he didn’t say anything else. He probably didn’t want to talk about why training was so intense lately.

“Maybe we could help each other,” Roque said quietly, easing his touch until he was just trailing his fingers over Sebas’ back. It sent a shiver down his body, and he sighed.

“You need a massage?” Sebas asked, smiling. Sebas rubbed his back a lot. It wasn’t anything new. Sebas generally couldn’t keep his hands off Roque when they were alone.

“With my exercises…You said yesterday…never mind. You cou—”

“No, I’ll help,” Sebas cut him off, rolling and nearly sending Roque tumbling as he tried to look at him.

Roque laughed, and it seemed to ease some of the tension in his own expression. “You’re more excited to watch me move my fingers than you are about getting your hands on me.”

Sebas shrugged. “I want to help. I want to take care of you.”

Roque ducked his chin, but he nodded slightly.

“Come here,” Sebas insisted, rolling completely onto his back then scooting up to lean against the pillows. He motioned for Roque to rest against his chest, and Roque settled there willingly.

Sebas wrapped his hands around Roque’s belly and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “Show me what you do.”

Roque sighed, but he held up his hand and began touching each of his fingers to his thumb without moving his wrist. It was slow, and Sebas could feel Roque’s frustration at how uncoordinated his fingers seemed. So, he rubbed Roque’s belly soothingly and kept his arms tight around him. When he’d done that several times, he opened and closed his fingers. Sebas could see that he still couldn’t bend them properly.

He understood that that had to be frustrating for Roque because he couldn’t feel the pain associated with the movement, but his body couldn’t physically do it. The disconnection had to be disorienting, which may have been part of the reason he hadn’t wanted Sebas to be involved. Roque was usually so in control of his body, and this was hard.

Slowly, Sebas began to kiss his neck and shoulder as he did each movement. He couldn’t make the exercises easier whether mentally or physically, but he could distract Roque from his darker thoughts. At least, he hoped he could.

“Is this how you help?” Roque chuckled.

“Your shoulders relaxed, so I think it is.”

Roque turned his head to catch Sebas in a slow kiss. He smiled against his lips and spoke very quietly. “Thank you.”

Those two words eased the rest of the tension Sebas had been feeling. He felt relief as Roque turned in his arms, deepening their kisses as Sebas stroked his back and buried his fingers in his hair. He felt the urge again to let those words slip out. What would Roque do if he said I love you? Sebas didn't let himself find out, but it swelled in his chest as Roque removed the underwear he'd only just put on before the massage.

"How else can I help?" Sebas asked, grinning as Roque reached for the lube again.

Roque laughed. "I have a few ideas."

Chapter Text

Roque could admit that doing his stretches with Sebas was better than doing it alone. It felt less hopeless when Sebas’ lips were on his neck, or when Sebas’ hand were stroking him slow and teasingly. It didn’t completely distract him from his troubles, but it certainly made them more bearable.

Sebas would come back from training and be all over Roque, but he wouldn’t let him come until he did his exercises. It was cruel really, but Sebas was so silly about it that Roque couldn’t be mad. He’d be kissing Roque or sucking his cock, and he’d pause and look at Roque expectantly.

“Am I the only one doing my part?” he had asked one night when he had Roque’s cock in his hand.

“What?”

“Your exercises.”

“Right now?”

Sebas nodded, and he eased his grip on Roque’s cock. Roque had groaned, but he’d made a show of doing those stupid exercises. The worst part was that his fingers had been loosening up because of it. His dexterity had improved noticeably in the short time they’d been doing it, and Sebas was so smug about it.

Roque still couldn’t open things or lift them with his hand, but he was getting better at doing the buttons on his clothes with minimal help. It still took time, and some mornings he could button everything fine but by evening he couldn’t unbutton them or visa versa. It was slow progress, but it was progress, and for the first time in a while he felt hopeful.

So, he did his exercises while Sebas distracted him, and he reaped all the benefits of both. Roque was starting to understand the give and take of their relationship. Neither of them liked feeling useless or unneeded, and they were both learning how to let each other into their more protected spaces. Like his fingers, it was slow progress, but they were figuring it out.

“Can you…” Sebas was still stroking him, but he seemed distracted as he searched for his words. Sebas didn’t usually have difficulty sharing his thoughts, so Roque immediately knew what topic he was attempting to broach.

“Anything, as long as you don’t need me to open a bottle or something,” Roque joked, not even wincing at his own words.

Sebas chuckled. “No bottles. I was thinking…maybe you could hold me down again…or choke me?” Sebas wasn’t looking at him as he said it, but he had said it. That, too, was progress.

Roque pushed himself up from where he’d been lounging against the pillows. He forgot about his exercises as he cupped Sebas’ face.

“Anything you want,” he said, stroking Sebas’ jaw with his thumb.

Sebas looked up at him and smiled. “Anything?”

A shiver ran down Roque’s spine at the suggestive tone Sebas used. He smiled, and agreed, “anything.”

Sebas nodded, but he didn’t ask for anything else. He just eased Roque’s underwear all the way down his legs and dropped them on the floor before tugging off his own underwear. Sometimes, it just wasn’t practical to undress each other, but Roque would never complain about Sebas putting on a show for him. Even when he wasn’t trying to be sexy, Sebas was gorgeous.

Roque gave himself a few strokes as Sebas pulled off his shirt and dropped that as well. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he was sporting more than a few bruises from training. Roque had noticed Sebas carrying more bruises than usual lately, and he assumed it was because training was getting more intense in preparation for the World Cup. He could also admit, and he found it kind of hot. Sebas was good at what he did, and the bruises on his skin were a testament to how hard he played.

Reaching out, Roque ran his fingers over one on Sebas’ hip where he’d either been at the bottom of a ruck or tackled hard. Sebas shivered as Roque’s fingers dipped lower to follow the deep cut of his hips. He wrapped his fingers around Sebas’ hip and pulled him to the bed again.

“I have an idea,” Roque said as his eyes caught the medals he had hanging at the foot of his bed.

“Yeah?” Sebas knelt on the edge of the bed, giving Roque a small smile.

“Lie down,” Roque said, rolling off the bed. “And close your eyes,” he added, feeling a little foolish about taking down all of his medals.

“Okay.” Sebas dragged the word out, sounding equal parts amused and uncertain about Roque’s request. He did as he was told though, and Roque smiled. That trust meant more to him than just about anything.

Roque went to the wall and unhooked a few of his medals from where they hung from a series of hooks. He had more, but these were the ones that meant the most to him. He looked at them, biting his lip, but he brought them over to the bed. They’d be fine.

Sebas was sprawled on the bed with his back propped up against the pillows. He didn’t try to cover himself despite having his eyes closed. He was just as comfortable now as when he was in control.

Roque lay himself over Sebas, and he caught his lips in a slow kiss. Sebas brought his hands up to cradle Roque to his body, but he didn’t open his eyes as they kissed.

“Give me your hands,” Roque said, picking up one of the medals.

Sebas held his arms up without hesitation, and Roque smiled. He held them together with his left hand and very carefully began to loop the ribbon from the medal around Sebas’ wrists. Sebas shivered as Roque pulled the first loop tighter as he made the second loop.

“What—?”

“Eyes closed,” Roque repeated himself, not bothering to answer Sebas’ question until the medal was looped several times, and then his only answer was to press the medal itself into Sebas’ bound hands. “Hold it. If you drop it, we stop.”

Sebas grasped the medal, and Roque tried not to think about the fact that he’d unconsciously chosen the medal from the first tournament they’d won together on the same team.

When Sebas was bound, Roque guided his hands up over his head, so Sebas was completely spread out for him. He smiled down at him, loving how gorgeous he looked like this. It was hard not to just get lost in how good it felt to be with Sebas.

Roque started at his forehead, pressing a kiss there before kissing each of his eyelids then working his way downward. Sebas moaned softly as Roque worshipped his entire body. He arched into Roque’s touches, but he didn’t open his eyes or drop the medal.

Pushing his legs aside, Roque settled between them. He stroked Sebas’ stomach, just enjoying him. Another idea struck him, and he leaned over the side of the bed to pull his stash of chocolate out.

He leaned over Sebas and held a small square of chocolate to his lips. “Open your mouth,” he said, and Sebas immediately did, probably expecting something much filthier. As soon as Roque pressed the chocolate to his tongue, Sebas moaned and wrapped his lips around it.

“Hot,” Roque said, licking the melted chocolate off his own fingers. He broke off another piece and held it in his mouth before leaning down to kiss Sebas. It was either going to be the hottest thing he’d ever done, or one of them was going to choke. He pressed the melting chocolate between Sebas’ lips with his tongue, and Sebas took it hungrily. They licked the sweet remains out of each other’s mouths as Roque stroked Sebas’ neck.

Roque fed Sebas another piece of chocolate before grabbing the lube and condoms. He could have been happy just feeding Sebas until he couldn’t take any more, but Sebas had asked for something, and Roque refused to disappoint him.

“Want you on your hands and knees,” he whispered against Sebas’ lips, and Sebas let Roque help him roll over onto his hands and knees.

Roque didn’t love this position. It had its merits in the shower or the woods, but he enjoyed being able to watch Sebas’ every expression most of the time. Sebas’ face was so expressive, and he loved to see how he affected him. He loved being able to press the foreheads together or nuzzle him. However, today, he wanted to be able to wrap himself around Sebas completely.

Not to mention, Sebas’ ass in the air as he rested on his elbows—since his wrists were tied—was more than worth the position. Roque kissed a path up his spine, savoring every shake and tremor that went through Sebas’ body. Sebas wasn’t quiet about his pleasure, moaning and gasping as Roque’s slowly opened him up while mapping his body with his mouth. Being with Sebas had made him greedy, and he didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t take the time to completely explore and pleasure or be pleasured by his partner anymore. Every sigh and moan Sebas made left his own body aching.

Sebas’ entire back was flushed pink with arousal by the time Roque slowly pushed inside of him. He splayed his palm against Sebas’ lower back as he sank deeper and deeper. It would be so easy to just take him like this, watching Sebas’ take him so beautifully. It was almost impossible to tear his eyes away from where they connected, but Roque wanted more. He wanted to give Sebas everything he wanted and more.

So, when he was fully inside of him, Roque draped his body over Sebas’ and wrapped his bad arm around his belly to hold him close. Sebas turned his head, so Roque could capture his mouth in a filthy kiss.

Roque was already overwhelmed, but he pushed through his own pleasure to swallow Sebas’ moans. He wanted to devour all of him as he pinned him in place with his weight.

Sebas rocked back against him, and Roque could barely focus as he pushed Sebas’ legs wider. He couldn’t take his mouth off him either, alternating between kissing Sebas and trailing his mouth all over his shoulders. Roque felt a bit out of control as Sebas didn’t hold back a single sound or plea. Despite the improvised restraint, Sebas wasn’t being passive at all.

Roque used his arm around Sebas middle to pull him up until they were kneeling on the bed. He continued to hold their bodies together as he brought his left hand to Sebas’ throat. His big hand covered almost his entire neck, and Roque gave it just enough pressure to hint at what he could do.

Sebas cried out and sagged against Roque’s body. Roque caught him and guided them back until he was kneeling, so his thighs were supported by his calves. Sebas was straddled over him.

Roque almost lost all control when Sebas tilted his head back to give Roque more access to his throat. The level of trust was too much after what they’d been through, but it was beautiful. Every hint of pressure pulled the most beautiful sounds Roque had ever heard from Sebas.

Roque wished, not for the first time, that he didn’t have a broken hand. However, this time, it was entirely due to the fact that he wanted to be able to stroke Sebas’ cock and keep his hand around his throat.

Sebas didn’t have the same concerns because he was mumbling nonsense as he rode Roque like his life depended on it. Every time he sank down to meet the thrust of Roque’s hips, he made a choked off sound of pleasure that Roque would be hearing in his dreams.

Roque gave his throat a small squeeze, and Sebas made a punch out sound as he writhed in Roque’s lap. Roque held him as he came, continuing to thrust into him as he spilled over himself and the sheets, unable to do anything but melt into Roque’s touch.

Roque could barely hold himself together long enough to make sure they didn’t go toppling as he too fell over the edge, milked by Sebas’ body and the vision he was as he gave himself over to Roque. Roque’s entire body felt light and floaty for the first time in a while.

Sebas’ weight seemed to double as he back came down, and Roque held him close, stroking his throat with gentle fingers as he continued to move inside of him. His movements were no longer rushed, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t want this to be over even if they could do it any time they wanted.

Roque pressed kisses to the back of Sebas’ neck even as he stroked the other side with his fingers. Sebas shivered in his lap, but Roque knew it had nothing to do with being cold.

When he felt like he could move without his legs turning to liquid, Roque shifted them to lie spooned on their sides. With clumsy fingers, he slowly unwound the medal from Sebas’ wrists, but Sebas didn’t let it go once he was free.

Roque caught him looking at it and smiled, knowing he remembered where it was from.

“I think I played five minutes that whole tournament,” Sebas said, stroking his thumb over the golden finish. “I was so fresh, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“You played well.”

“You didn’t even know who I was,” Sebas laughed.

“You made an important tackle, and you nearly knocked a guy right over in the scrum.”

Sebas tore his eyes off the medal to look at Roque in wonder. It wasn’t like they hadn’t interacted before things hit the fan with Diego. Roque had been captain for a reason, and he was close with everyone on the team. He’d had their respect—for the most part—if not a close friendship. It stung a bit that Sebas would say he hadn’t known anything about him.

Sebas must have read it in his expression because he pulled Roque to him, rolling in his embrace, so he could wrap his arms around Roque as well.

“I kept my distance because of…” Sebas sighed, pressing his face into Roque’s throat. Roque held him tighter. “I guess I didn’t realize you would still notice me.”

“We play sevens, Sebas. It’s hard not to notice everyone. There aren’t that many of us,” Roque laughed. “Not to mention, you may have been avoiding me, but you made a reputation for yourself. I might not have realized you were gay, but I noticed you.”

Sebas chuckled. “What did you notice?” his voice was playful, and Roque couldn’t help but play along.

“I noticed your arms.” He ran his fingertips along Sebas’ bicep as he said it, smiling when Sebas trembled.

“I noticed your hair, especially when it does that flippy thing.” He ran his fingers through Sebas’ messy hair, loving the way it slipped through his fingers.

“I noticed your ass…” Roque trailed his fingers down Sebas’ back until he cupped his ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

Sebas laughed. “So, nothing about my rugby skill?”

“Who needs skill when you have this?” Roque asked, squeezing his cheek again.

It pulled another laugh from Sebas who mirrored Roque and cupped his ass as well.

“Thank you…for this. It’s been hard lately…”

Roque frowned. Sebas didn’t talk a lot about training, but Roque had assumed that was because he didn’t want to make Roque feel bad.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just hard.” Sebas’ response was too quick, too defensive.

Roque’s frown deepened, but he knew that pushing Sebas to open up would only make him run. “You can tell me anything.”

“I know.” Rather than sounding happy about that, Sebas sounded defeated.

Roque held him more tightly, stroking his back.

Something was weighing on Sebas, and Roque didn’t think it had anything to do with him for once. He wasn’t sure if that made him more worried or relieved. What he did know was that Sebas was the only thing keeping him sane lately. He would get to the bottom of what was wrong because he wanted Sebas to be happy too. He wanted everything for him, but if Sebas wasn’t ready to share it with him, he could settle for giving him the things he could put voice to. He knew how to be patient.

Chapter Text

Sebas was on the field waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. He’d already done a warmup lap and stretched because he didn’t particularly want to be in the locker room with the rest of the team as they got ready. No one had said anything, just as they hadn’t when Roque was changing beside them—well, most of them hadn’t then with one glaring exception.

However, after the incident in the gym, Sebas was wary of everyone. He believed it had been Charlie, but he hadn’t gotten confirmation of that, and he didn’t know if anyone else had been a part of it.

It wasn’t even like Charlie was in the locker room these days either. Roque had fractured Charlie’s orbital bone, and while the doctors were letting Charlie do light weight training, he wasn’t able to take part in full contact until it healed. Which according to Cris might not be until after the World Cup.

Sebas found it a little vindicating that Charlie’s scheme to sideline Roque whether to steal his position or because he was gay had backfired so spectacularly. Perhaps Roque wouldn’t get to play, but now Charlie wouldn’t either, and that left their starting position and the captaincy wide open.

As the rest of the team came outside, Sebas joined them. He listened as they talked about their upcoming matches. He was excited at the prospect of getting more playing time. He just hoped that Javier gave it to him.

Javier arrived in a chorus of profanities and odd endearments, and he had them running drills immediately. It was easy to get lost in training and forget everything else going on in his life. It was part of the reason he’d gotten so heavily into rugby in the first place.

Sebas was so deeply in his calm bubble of concentration that he didn’t see the leg that tripped him. He fell and tumbled out of the group of runners, but no one stopped. Sebas cursed loudly at them as he pushed himself to his feet and jogged to catch up.

“Kitten, watch your feet,” Javier called as Sebas jogged past him to catch back up to the group. Sebas didn’t know whether Javier was just oblivious or condoned the trip, and the use of his pet name for Sebas only made it more confusing. He hated that everything was uncertain.

He stayed to the outside of the pack of them and eyed them each up as he caught back up. It had to have been on purpose since there was no way they wouldn’t have noticed tripping him, and an innocent person would have apologized or helped him up.

Cris ran the next drill beside him and gave him a questioning look. Sebas waved him off. He didn’t want to get Cris involved. He didn’t even want to be involved himself. Then he thought about Roque and how he’d put up with Charlie’s nonsense every day alone and how that had ended for him. Charlie wouldn’t have had the balls to do it if he thought someone would call him out.

Sebas didn’t like that a silly trip had burst his bubble of calm. So, he pushed it out of his mind as he threw himself into training, hoping to prove that he could compete just as hard as any of their starters.

Part of him understood it. It was less about his sexuality and more to do with the fact that they all believed that he’d made the team look bad. They thought he’d known about the trailer because he was with Roque. He’d tried explaining to Lobo that he hadn’t had a clue, and while he and Lobo were on decent terms, he didn’t think he really believed him.

It was something he didn’t think Roque understood, and he didn’t want to talk to him about it. He was happy that the documentary was off the table for now, but the damage that had been done to the team’s bond wasn’t going away so easily.

At the end of practice, Sebas was covered in more bruises than he could really count. Their scrimmage had been hard fought despite them all being teammates. Javier hadn’t told them to tone it down, so it had only gotten increasingly heated as it went on.

Sebas’ shoulder was on fire as he headed into the locker room. Lately, he’d been showering in Roque’s room both out of caution and because he could usually pull Roque in with him. He didn’t really want Roque to see him like this though. He knew his ankle was a bit swollen from his fall, and the rest of him looked like he’d been used as a pinata.

However, when he opened his locker to grab his things, it was empty.

“Who took my stuff?” Sebas asked, knowing it was a stupid question since no one would readily offer up themselves.

He was met by indifferent shrugs, like it was normal to have his locker emptied during training.

“We were out there with you,” Lobo pointed out, grabbing his own toiletries out of his locker. He wasn’t wrong, which only left two people who would’ve had access and no one would have questioned, and Sebas knew it hadn’t been Roque. He also knew that Charlie knew the combination for his lock.

It wasn’t the end of the world. It was harmless really, but it sent a message. It sent the same message that the damn gym had. Charlie wasn’t forgetting what happened, and he was going to make it Sebas’ problem.

Sebas stalked out of the locker room before he said or did something that would get him in trouble. He hoped that Roque was at therapy already, so he could shower alone without Roque knowing something was wrong. He thought about going to Zoe and Renata’s room, but then he’d have to tell them what was happening.

Sebas wanted to put his fist through a wall. He’d kept his head down since he’d arrived to avoid all of this, and still here he was. It wasn’t outright homophobia like what Roque had experienced with podcasts and the media dedicating time to questioning his qualifications and seriousness simply because he’d posted a picture with another man. Sebas couldn’t even say that this was because he was gay. Charlie might just be pissed off that Roque broke his face, and Sebas was the easier target.

Sebas pressed his forehead to the door of Chris and Roque’s room, not wanting to open it and possibly face Roque. Other than keeping his sexuality under wraps, Sebas wasn’t a spectacular liar. Roque would see through him immediately if he didn’t get himself together.

Unfortunately, the door opened as he was standing there, and Sebas stumbled inward, pretty much into Roque’s arms.

Roque laughed as he wrapped his arms around Sebas, but Sebas wasn’t feeling the humor. He felt too off balance, and none of it had to do with just falling over.

“You stink,” Roque laughed. He didn’t sound upset about it, and he pressed his nose to Sebas’ throat.

“You like it,” Sebas teased him, pushing him backward into his room. Sebas wasn’t feeling very playful, but if he didn’t play along, Roque would notice. He hated lying to him even if only by omission.

“Not when I have to go to therapy,” Roque said, though he didn’t push Sebas away. In fact, he held him tightly like he never wanted to let him go.

Sebas was torn. This was the out he’d been hoping for. Roque could go to therapy, and Sebas could shower and dress with no questions asked. But when he looked Roque in the eye, he didn’t want to let him go either.

With everything going on with the team, Roque remained safe, and Sebas didn’t really want to let that go while he was feeling vulnerable. He would never admit to feeling vulnerable, but he felt like his deepest fears were slowly starting to come to pass, and while Roque wasn’t there with him at training, he was here now.

“Everything okay?” Roque asked when their hug didn’t seem to end.

“Yes,” Sebas said, pushing Roque further into the room.

Roque laughed as Sebas steered him towards the bathroom. “I already showered.”

“You probably did a terrible job,” Sebas argued.

Roque only laughed harder. “I know how to wash myself!”

Sebas made a disbelieving sound as he pushed Roque into the bathroom. “Maybe I don’t know how to wash myself,” he countered.

“I’d believe it with how often you show up gross from training.” Roque didn’t fight him when he began stripping him out of his clothes. “I don’t have long. If I don’t show up for therapy, they might throw me out.”

“Won’t take long,” Sebas promised, tugging Roque’s shorts off.

Roque turned around to turn the shower on, and Sebas tugged his shirt and shorts off. He crowded Roque into the shower before he could turn around and get a good look at him.

Sebas grinned as he ran his palms down Roque’s back, feeling the thick muscles that hadn’t softened from disuse yet. He cupped Roque’s ass and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Sebas was careful not to completely manhandle Roque since he’d removed his brace, and he was terrible about protecting it when it wasn’t covered.

So, Sebas wrapped his hand around Roque’s hip to keep him steady and quickly opened him up as carefully as he could without much to work with. Roque’s head was tipped forward against the cool tiles, and Sebas couldn’t stop himself from pressing kisses to his spine and the back of his neck.

He guided his already aching cock in then reached around and took Roque’s in hand. Roque reached up to brace himself on the wall, but Sebas caught his hand before he could do it.

“Other one,” he warned, and Roque let out a frustrated little sigh. It wasn’t the first time he’d tried to use his injured arm when he shouldn’t, but Sebas had gotten very good at stopping him before he could do anything that might hurt it. Especially since the swelling had gone down significantly, there was nothing to keep him from moving it and doing damage.

Roque lifted his left hand and pressed his forearm to the wall as Sebas guided the other hand to tuck it against his stomach before going back to stroking him in time with his thrusts.

It was easy to get lost in Roque and forget everything else. Sebas pressed his forehead to Roque’s shoulder and rocked into him. He’d promised it would be quick, but he didn’t hurry himself. He savored every tremble and quiet gasp that Roque made as Sebas rolled his hips slowly and methodically.

Sebas pressed his lips to Roque’s skin, licking up the droplets of water that washed over his body. He couldn’t get enough of him.

Roque was tight, and it was driving Sebas to distraction. Every thrust left his entire body singing, but he still wanted more. He wanted to be as close to Roque as possible. He wanted to feel what he felt and experience every drop of pleasure together.

It was a hopelessly romantic notion, but Sebas had never felt like this before, and it was just as overwhelming as the physical pleasure he felt.

Despite his pace, Sebas felt his body getting close. He adjusted his grip on Roque and used his other hand to guide Roque’s mouth to his. This angle was always awkward, but he needed to kiss him like his life depended on it.

Roque leaned back, so he didn’t need to brace himself, then he brought his arm back to hold Sebas close. Flashes of Italy played through Sebas’ head, but this was better if only for the fact that he wasn’t afraid of it anymore. Roque was his. What they had was something he’d never imagined. All of the problems outside of here existed, but he didn’t just want to play rugby anymore. He wanted Roque and everything that came with that.

His body shook as he spilled into Roque. He cursed himself, trying to pull out, but Roque held them together. Sebas didn’t stop stroking him, and he followed Sebas into oblivion a few strokes later.

They shared lazy kisses as the shower washed away the evidence of what they’d done. Sebas nuzzled against Roque’s cheek when as he softened and naturally slipped free. Roque turned in his arms and pulled him into a searing kiss.

“I’m definitely going to be late,” Roque noted, not bothering to stop or slow their kisses.

“Sorry.” Sebas wasn’t sorry, but he understood that it was entirely his fault.

Roque laughed, clearly knowing that Sebas wasn’t exactly repentant. “You didn’t even force me to do my exercises first.”

“Your therapist can take care of that today.”

Roque smiled. “Help me clean up?”

Sebas didn’t need to be asked twice. He grabbed the soap and tenderly washed Roque’s body between stolen kisses and gentle touches. When he was done, he let Roque go with a kiss. He assumed Roque would get out and head to his session, but Roque took the soap from him.

“Don’t trust me to wash myself?” Sebas asked, realizing that there would be no hiding his bruises from Roque. He almost froze, but he forced himself to face Roque.

Roque gave him one of his smug little half smiles as he lathered Sebas’ chest. His touch was just as gentle, and Sebas could tell as soon as Roque noticed how much of his skin was purple.

“Why is Javier letting you practice so hard?” he asked, gently running his fingertip over Sebas’ pec where a wash of purple and green had blossomed from a hard hit. He’d earned that one honestly. It had just been an intense tackle. The one on the back of his calf on the other hand—

“It’s not like they’re going to go easy on us during Worlds.”

“Yeah, but none of you are going to make it to the Worlds if you kill each other first.” Roque sounded genuinely concerned, but all Sebas could think was that he was glad that Roque believed it was a team problem rather than Sebas being targeted.

“You should tell Javier you want to be his assistant coach,” Sebas joked, turning to let Roque wash his back.

Roque’s derisive laugh cut off with a gasp. “Who kicked you in the ribs?”

“What?”

Roque touched the spot in question, and Sebas flinched. He hadn’t even remembered that one, but he vaguely remembered taking a toe to the ribs while at the bottom of a ruck. Maybe that was actually the source of the increased shoulder pain. Shit, he’d been so close to getting away with it.

“You know how rucks—”

“I’ve played rugby for years. That isn’t normal.”

Sebas sighed. “I’m fine. He probably tripped and caught me. I barely remember getting it.”

“I’m worried about you,” Roque admitted, and Sebas’ heart ached. He wanted to be honest with Roque. He wanted to vent and look to him for support. However, he’d seen what Roque had done when Charlie had put his hands on him, and he couldn’t live with himself if Roque hurt himself for Sebas again.

“I’m fine. Might actually make the starting lineup at—” Sebas cut himself off. He didn’t want to rub it in. That was rightfully Roque’s position. He didn’t need Sebas to remind him.

“I’m proud of you,” Roque said, but he sounded like he was fighting back emotion.

Sebas turned in his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips. Neither of them said anything else as they rinsed off and got out of the shower.

“Want me to go with you?” Sebas asked as he helped Roque pull his pants up while Roque secured his wrist brace.

“Why?”

Sebas took a breath rather than get defensive. Roque wasn’t trying to be an asshole. “Because maybe you want company?”

Roque looked at him for a long moment like he was deciding what to say. Sebas was about to tell him to forget it, but Roque nodded before he could get it out.

“Okay. It’s going to be boring though.”

“No more boring that sitting in your room alone.” He hoped that Roque didn’t question why he wasn’t hanging out with their teammates like he ordinarily would.

Roque smiled as he let Sebas help him with his hoodie. Sebas liked helping him dress almost as much as he liked to help him undress. It felt intimate and sexy in a different way. He’d never been with anyone long enough to do little domestic sorts of things with them. He doubted that Roque had either.

Physical therapy was boring. Sebas mostly played around on his phone while Roque discussed things with the therapist. Since he was still in the brace and severely limited in what he was allowed to do, they mostly talked during the short session. Then they worked on exercises that would keep the rest of his body in shape without compromising his hand. When they actually got to the hand exercises, Sebas put his phone in his pocket and moved closer, so he could hear exactly what they said to Roque.

Sebas didn’t like the way the therapist was looking at Roque as he touched his fingers together. She looked like she was trying not to frown and just looking constipated instead. He wanted to ask Roque if she always looked like that, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to start any drama. He certainly didn’t want to crush the hopeful attitude Roque had been feeling lately.

By the time the session was over, Roque looked spent. Sebas understood why he was always so frustrated because Sebas had seen Roque train for hours and hours without getting tired, but fifteen minutes of using his hand left him completely drained. He knew it was mostly psychological, but that didn’t mean that Roque didn’t feel it physically.

“Did that make you wonder why you’re with me?” Roque asked as they walked back to the room. His shoulders were hunched, and he looked like he wished he could curl into a ball of armor like an armadillo or something. Sebas had seen him look that way before, but it always felt weird to see such an ordinarily confident man seem to retreat before his eyes.

“Why would it do that?”

“I broke a sweat moving my fingers.” The frustration was clear, and Sebas wanted to pull him into a hug and hold him until he stopped hating himself for something that was done to him. He couldn’t though, partially because they were in the middle of the HPC and partially because Roque didn’t want sympathy. He would take it as Sebas thinking he was weak.

“You’re injured. You need to heal. That takes time. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“If you say so…”

Sebas understood that Roque struggled to accept that, and he wished that he could help him. However, he had enough trouble coming to terms with his own fears that he doubted he could fix Roque’s troubles. So, Sebas reached for his good hand and held it as they returned to their room. He could be there for Roque, and he hoped that was enough.

Chapter Text

Roque stared at the x-rays they’d taken. His therapist had had some concerns, and his doctors had agreed to take another look during his appointment.

Honestly, Roque wished they’d just cut his arm off at this point because staring at the x-rays and being told things didn’t look good all over again was too much. Roque knew that he shouldn’t have been surprised because he’d gone against everything Pepa had told him.

The worst part was that he felt foolish for believing that Olympo had given him something that would help him heal when, at best it had only masked his symptoms and, at worst, it causes the bone to heal too quickly and poorly. Every other thing they’d told him had been coercive or a lie, so he shouldn’t have been surprised, but here he was staring at an x-ray that was worse than the previous one he’d seen.

He zoned out as they talked about the possibility of bone death, chronic pain, or lifelong disability. It wasn’t anything Pepa hadn’t warned about, but he’d been too focused on competing to really consider those things. Now, he just stared at the x-ray where the tiniest bone imaginable was crushed and ruining his life.

Roque let his therapist help him back into his brace. They warned him about taking it off and the possibility of still making things worse if he didn’t follow directions. He couldn’t tell them that it hadn’t been his fault. He’d been lied to, then he’d been kidnapped. Okay, he’d also punched Charlie repeatedly, but he would’ve done that all over again despite this outcome.

Roque was in a daze as he headed back to his room. He had to meet with a surgeon to see if that was a viable option, but he could barely wrap his head around that tiny bone on the x-ray being responsible for all of this. That tiny bone that Charlie had crushed into dust beneath his shoe. Roque just needed some time to think. He hoped that Cristian and Sebas were watching tape this afternoon since they had a match coming up. He just needed to be alone.

When he opened the door to his room, his heart stuttered as he found Sebas sitting on his bed tugging his shoes and socks off. He must have only just arrived himself. His hair was still covered in sweat, and he was wearing the t-shirt and shorts he’d worn to practice.

“I thought I’d shower here,” Sebas said, without looking up. His voice held all sorts of suggestions that Roque wished he could get excited about.

Roque didn’t know what to say because he couldn’t process what had happened at his appointment and what was going on now, and he just froze in the doorway.

“I could help you wash your…” Sebas trailed off as he looked up at Roque. Clearly, Roque wasn’t doing a great job of hiding his emotions. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You do know there are showers in the locker rooms, right?” Roque tried to play it off, but he internally cringed because he had never turned down shower sex with Sebas, and he’d certainly never brushed it off so casually.

Sebas seemed to go ashen at Roque’s words. Roque frowned as Sebas fumbled with removing his shirt and ended up tearing it off and tossing it on the floor like it had personally wronged him. His frown only deepened at the bruises on Sebas’ skin.

Sebas got to his feet and walked over to him, still looking unsettled in a way Roque hadn’t seen since he’d been hurt. “Did something happen at your appointment?”

Roque was more than a little jealous that Sebas had been able to connect those dots in under a minute. Roque, himself, felt as though his brain was moving through molasses. He knew there was something going on with Sebas, but he hadn’t figured it out in over a week of trying. Meanwhile, Sebas had him figured out immediately.

“What did they say?” Sebas asked, guiding Roque across the room like it was his legs that had been injured rather than his hand. Roque didn’t fight him because he didn’t have the capacity to do anything other than repeat the doctor’s words over and over in his head, hoping they’d change to something positive.

When he was seated, Sebas dropped to his knees and took his shoes off for him. Roque wanted to push him away because he could still take off his damn shoes. He didn’t because, despite being unable to think clearly at all, he knew Sebas wasn’t doing it because he thought Roque needed it. He was doing it because he needed to do something with his hands, and helping Roque gave him an opportunity to keep them busy while also being close to Roque. He wished he understood medicine as well as he understood Sebas. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so helpless then.

Sebas’ focus didn’t last long though, and when Roque’s shoes were off he resorted to pacing back and forth while he waited for Roque to tell him what was wrong.

“What exactly did they say about your arm?” Sebas asked.

“They took more pictures.”

“What did they say about them?”

Sebas sounded upset, and Roque couldn’t really blame him for that, but he also didn’t want to have to deal with Sebas’ emotions about it all on top of his own. He also didn’t want Sebas to use Roque’s problems to shield himself from his own. Roque was tired of the spotlight being on him. Frankly, he’d wanted to come back to his room after his appointment and hide, but Sebas had been here waiting.

Roque tipped his head back and closed his eyes. This was the part he’d been avoiding, even in his own mind.

“They said that I probably need surgery.” That was what it came down to. This wasn’t going to simply heal on its own because Roque had been foolish. Perhaps that was what stung the most. He was competent. He was Spain’s best player. He knew his body and how to train it, but he’d ignored all of that in favor of some nonsense that Hugo fed him.

Roque opened his eyes when he felt a weight settle over his lap. Sebas was straddling his thighs, and as soon as Roque looked up at him, he cradled Roque’s face in his hands.

“What did they say?” His tone was tender, but Roque now felt like the prey that Sebas had chosen to pounce on. There was no escape from this.

“They didn’t say it, but I think I did the damage to it when I couldn’t feel it…after they sewed up my arm. Probably when I was escaping the Olympo headquarters. I can hardly remember it, but I wasn’t exactly worried about protecting my arm when I could barely walk and—”

Sebas leaned down and shut him up with a kiss. Roque wanted to point out that Sebas had been the one to demand that he speak about this in the first place, but he let himself enjoy Sebas’ hungry mouth instead. Sebas’ thumbs rubbed circles against his jaw, soothing some of the tension he was carrying.

Roque was carried back to the day it all happened when Sebas came to find him. He’d been tender then too, and it had been a surprise after he’d threatened violence if Roque tried to touch him. Now, Roque couldn’t imagine Sebas’ hands being used for anything but tenderness. The mask he wore around the training facility vanished when he was with Roque.

It had been such a shock then though. He’d almost convinced himself that Sebas had been the one who’d done it even though, in his heart, he knew it wasn’t true. But as he’d sat there alone, he’d thought about the tournament in Italy and how he’d held Sebas’ hand when he was struggling, and the belief that Sebas had crushed that very hand beneath his cleat had been sickening. Then he’d shown up and been so careful with him. The relief that it hadn’t been him—that what they’d shared in Italy hadn’t ended in violence like Diego—had been overwhelming.

“When?” Sebas asked, pulling back enough to look Roque in the eye. He was still cupping Roque’s face, and Roque couldn’t say that he minded the support despite craving privacy. For years, he’d stood on his own, but now that Sebas had taken up the empty space in his life, he wasn’t sure if he could do it alone anymore. That was terrifying, but Sebas hadn’t given him a reason to doubt him.

“I have to meet with the surgeon at the end of the week…”

“I’ll go with you.”

Roque paused. He hadn’t been expecting that. Sebas had been less concerned about people seeing them together around the center, but this was an outside surgeon. This meant leaving the facility and meeting with Roque’s medical team. It also meant missing practice because Roque had scheduled it without considering the wild possibility that Sebas would want to go.

“You have training.”

“I’ll talk to Javier. It’s not like I’m a starter.”

“I thought you said—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Roque could hear the touch of frustration in Sebas voice. He understood it. Sebas was a good player, but he was on a team of the best. He’d been the best on his previous team, which was why he was here, but they’d all been the best of their previous teams. Sebas put in his time—probably more than just about anyone else on their team—but sometimes that wasn’t enough. Despite that, he never seemed to begrudge anyone else for their success.

However, the longer Roque thought about it, he couldn’t imagine who Javier would start over Sebas with Roque and Charlie out. Cris was decent, but Sebas had more experience. Despite not starting, he played a lot of minutes. He often came in as a fresh pair of legs to make sure they closed out matches. It was an important role, and the logical next step would be to take the vacant starting role.

Missing training for his boyfriend’s surgical appointment wouldn’t win him any good will though. Roque had exploited Javier’s soft spot for Sebas in the past. Maybe Javier wouldn’t punish him for this either, but he couldn’t imagine him rewarding Sebas for it.

“You have a match coming up.”

“We’re already in the World Cup. They can’t take that away for a match with France.” Sebas pressed kisses to Roque’s cheeks and forehead, not letting any of his valid arguments deter him.

Roque wanted to feel relief, but he didn’t want to ruin Sebas’ career along with his own. He’d already almost done that just by taking the sponsorship from Olympo.

“I can do it on my own.”

“I know, but I want to be there.” Sebas pressed a kiss to Roque’s lips, slipping his tongue between them.

Roque’s gut dropped. He wasn’t sure how he could be feeling both intense elation and misery from those words. So, he clung to Sebas because he didn’t know what else he could do.

“I want you to be there.” It came out a whisper, but it was the truth. He wanted Sebas there with him. He wanted to be able to hold his hand while he got more bad news. He wanted to be able to let Sebas ask questions because he knew he wouldn’t be able to think of anything other than how long this would set him back. He wanted to be able to break down without having to keep it all in until he made it back to the facility.

Sebas’ thumbs wiped at the tears he hadn’t realized had fallen from his eyes. Once he realized it, Roque couldn’t hold it back anymore. He took a shuddering breath in, and the exhale became a sob. Sebas didn’t say anything as he continued to pepper kisses across Roque’s face and shoulders.

Roque didn’t fight him when he gently pushed him down onto his back. He moved with Sebas, until Sebas was resting above him, cradled between Roque’s legs. Sebas didn’t push things further, seemingly content to settle against Roque’s chest and anchor him as he fell apart. Roque didn’t overthink it. He just let it spill out.

Sebas’ hands never stopped moving, caressing every inch of Roque’s body as he continued to press kisses to his skin. He didn’t speak, which was a relief. Roque couldn’t process anything else. There were too many uncertainties all over again. Just when he thought things were moving forward, and he was finding his footing, it was all torn apart again.

“I want to kill Charlie,” Sebas whispered after Roque’s sobs had eased to shaky breaths.

Roque clung to Sebas. Sebas hadn’t even said that after Charlie had humiliated him in front of the entire team in the gym. He hadn’t reserved that kind of hatred for himself, but he felt it on Roque’s behalf. Roque held him tighter.

When Roque woke, they were still in the same position for the most part. Sebas was a soothing weight on his chest. They were covered in a blanket though, which Roque quickly recognized as the one that usually lived on Cris’ bed.

Cris wasn’t in the room when Roque turned his head to check. He felt embarrassed. It wasn’t so much that Cris had found them like this. They weren’t even naked for once because they’d both fallen asleep before anything could have happened. It was more that Cris was once again banished from his own room because of them.

Maybe it was that Roque was just feeling sensitive about everything, but he couldn’t help feeling like the world’s worst friend because Cris was constantly finding another place to sleep.

Sebas stirred as Roque tried to get out from under him.

“Everything okay?” Sebas sounded sleepy and happy, and it only made Roque’s mood more volatile.

Roque leveled him with a look that probably was uncalled for, judging by the way Sebas seemed to shrink back as he looked up at Roque. Roque only felt worse when Sebas mumbled an apology as he shifted to get out of Roque’s way. Roque cursed himself as he walked to the bathroom and shut the door.

He splashed water on his face, trying to get a hold of himself, but nothing felt right. When he stepped back into the room, Sebas was dressed for training, and again it brought his mood even lower.

“I’ll see you later?” Sebas asked, and Roque just nodded before climbing back onto the bed. He flinched when Sebas tried to run his fingers over his back in goodbye. Sebas pulled his hand away like he’d been burned, and Roque’s heart ached when he heard another quiet apology.

He wanted to turn around and pull Sebas back. He wanted to be the one to apologize, but he laid there staring at the medals and trophies what were probably the extent of what he’d earn in his career. Everything just felt too heavy and insurmountable.

Roque was still in bed when Sebas returned with food. He wasn’t hungry. Despite Sebas’ best efforts, Roque barely ate. When Sebas tried the same tactics that Roque had used on him, Roque pushed him away.

“I spoke to Javier,” Sebas said as he ate his own lunch. He couldn’t afford to skip it because he had a session in the gym after this. Roque hadn’t really worked in the gym since his fight with Charlie. What he did at therapy hardly counted.

“It’s fine. I can go alone,” Roque insisted, not wanting to hear about how Javier made an exception for Sebas when he’d benched Roque over a damn picture.

“I said I’d go.”

“And I’m saying you don’t have to!”

“We already went through this,” Sebas insisted calmly, holding out his apple because Roque always stole his apples.

It was petty, but Roque felt the smallest hint of satisfaction when he refused it. It was probably the only thing he’d had control over since he got the news about his hand.

“I changed my mind or is that only okay for you?” Roque snapped, once again feeling his gut churn as Sebas put the apple back on his tray and threw it out. Sebas didn’t say that he was being unfair, but he knew that he was. Sebas hadn’t broken his wrist. Sebas hadn’t done anything wrong here, but Roque knew he was taking it out on him. He just didn’t know how to stop. It was like all of the frustration he’d been feeling had started to leak out, and he couldn’t bottle it back up.

When Sebas had to go back for afternoon training, Roque hated that he was relieved. However, when the door shut, the relief quickly turned to guilt.

It was Cris who came back in the evening without Sebas. Roque didn’t ask where Sebas had gone. He didn’t want him there. He didn’t want to chase Cris away again. He didn’t want to be a burden on Sebas who had been neglecting everything else because Roque was broken. He didn’t want to hurt Sebas just because he was hurting.

When Cris left anyway to go see Amaia, Roque lay alone, unable to sleep after spending the entire day in bed. When morning came, he was still alone.

He didn’t see Sebas when he forced himself to go down to eat. He didn’t see him between training sessions either. Cris said he’d been at practice and didn’t seem worried, so Roque didn’t go searching for him. His therapy sessions had been canceled until he met with the surgeon and possibly had his surgery. It left him with little to do other than think about everything, which didn’t exactly help his mood.

When Sebas didn’t come up after the afternoon session, Roque started to worry. Had Sebas realized he didn’t want to deal with Roque’s problems? Had Roque pushed too hard? Again, Chris didn’t have answers, and Roque couldn’t hide his frustration.

“Everything okay?” Cris asked, from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Yes.” It was a complete lie, but Roque wasn’t even sure he could explain what was wrong.

Cris stuck around for a bit, and Roque tried to ignore the pit in his stomach. He hadn’t spent a lot of time with Cris lately, so he tried to enjoy the time they had. However, Cris left eventually, and Roque sat on his bed feeling worse than before.

He found his phone and opened Sebas’ contact. He was tempted to call him because it was easier than texting with his left hand, but before he could, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Yes?”

The door opened, and Sebas was there with food. Roque frowned. Sebas hadn’t knocked since their first night together. He hadn’t even knocked then actually.

“Wasn’t sure you were here,” Sebas said, clearly reading his expression.

Roque thought that was a lie, but he didn’t argue. Sebas was here, and that was what mattered. He’d apologize for being an asshole, and then they’d be fine.

Except that Sebas put the tray of food on Roque’s bed and then sat on Cristian’s bed like he didn’t want to get too close.

“You can sit here,” Roque said, motioning to the space beside him.

Sebas waved him off. “I have to go in a bit. Just wanted to make sure you had something to eat.”

Roque felt his shoulders curl in as Sebas spoke. He wasn’t staying. He didn’t want to be close to Roque. He just didn’t think Roque could take care of himself.

“Oh.”

“You can come too. Everyone’s heading to the cabin tonight. I wasn’t sure if you’d be up for it, but I promised Zoe—”

Roque’s gut twisted. He wanted to go. He wanted to have fun and play Beer Minton, but he couldn’t even hold the utensils on his plate with his bad hand now, never mind play a game like that.

“No, go ahead. I’ll just…” He trailed off because he didn’t even have a reasonable answer to that since he couldn’t do much. He also couldn’t spend the rest of his life in bed.

“You could come, and we can leave if you get tired,” Sebas suggested.

Roque was tempted, but he’d need to shower and get dressed and then he’d have to pretend to be okay while Sebas had a good time. He’d just ruin his night, and then he’d have more to feel bad about.

“No, go ahead. I’ll just rest.”

Sebas frowned, but he didn’t fight again. It was like Sebas was afraid to argue with him, and that just made the pit in his stomach that much worse.

Roque did his exercises alone once Sebas had showered and found something to wear. He watched his hand as he bent his fingers then straightened them. He sighed as he touched each one to his thumb as he focused. It only made him feel worse as he watched his ordinarily dexterous fingers struggle with the simplest of tasks.

He thought about Sebas’ hands and how they so effortlessly touched him. He thought about the way Sebas didn’t treat him like he was useless. He thought about his expression every time Roque pushed him away.

It was too much. He needed to apologize, and he wanted to be near Sebas even if all he’d managed to do the past few days was push him away.

Slowly, Roque showered. It was hard. Either he had to remove the brace and hope for the best, or he had to keep it on and deal with a wet brace until it dried. He took it off and let his arm hang as he washed himself clumsily. It wasn’t so much that he couldn’t do things with his left hand, but he always went to do them with his right then had to correct it.

He was tired by the time he turned the water off, but he carefully dried himself off and put the brace back on. He found something to wear that he didn’t need help with but also looked halfway presentable. He hated to admit that Sebas had been helping him shower and dress most days. He did it without Roque even realizing how much he was helping him. He’d button Roque’s pants while kissing him or fix his sleeves for him.

Roque felt worse as he made his way to the cabin. He needed to apologize even if he wanted to insist that he didn’t need Sebas to treat him like a child.

Despite years of training, Roque was tired by the time he got to the cabin. People were milling around outside, smoking or hooking up, but Roque didn’t see Sebas. So, he went inside.

Immediately, he saw Cristian then his eyes found Sebas hanging out with a pair of girls he’d seen with him before. The pit in his stomach felt like it was consuming him as Sebas laughed at something one of them said. He couldn’t name all the emotions that overtook him as he stood there.

Then the girls got their drinks from whoever was behind the bar, and Sebas turned to his other side without a backwards glance. Renata was next to him, nursing a beer. Zoe was not far away playing DJ for the night, and Roque felt foolish.

He shouldn’t have come, and he was about to turn around when Sebas’ eyes caught him. They widened in surprise, but then a bright smile broke out on his face, and Sebas was moving toward him completely oblivious to Roque’s horrible thoughts.

When Sebas didn’t hesitate to pull him into a tight hug or press a kiss to his temple, Roque felt like he was suffocating.

“Come sit with Renata and me,” Sebas said, not bothering to ask about his change of heart.

Roque nodded and followed him, feeling like everyone’s eyes were on them—on him. They were probably wondering what Sebas was doing with him still, now that he couldn’t play rugby. He certainly was even though it had never really crossed his mind before.

Sebas fingers found the back of his neck as he pushed Roque into the seat beside Renata. Almost immediately, some of the tension bled out of Roque’s shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” Renata asked, ever polite to those she felt warranted it.

“Okay,” Roque said, knowing that saying he was fine would be pushing it, even for a question asked out of politeness.

Renata nodded, and he got the feeling she understood better than he was giving her credit for. Sebas’ fingers worked their way into the hair at the base of his skull, and Roque was sufficiently distracted not to push the conversation further.

When Sebas handed a beer down to him, Roque took it. He sat there like Renata, nursing it while Sebas spoke to different people who stepped up to the bar. He couldn’t help his brain from telling him that Sebas was babysitting them, and he’d be having a better time without Roque weighing him down.

The beer went to his head quickly since he’d hardly eaten, and the dark thoughts only got worse as Sebas chatted politely with almost everyone who stepped up to the bar. He never left Roque’s side, and that just made it worse. Roque was ruining his night.

Roque pushed himself out of his seat and stumbled slightly. He tried to remember how many beers he’d had, but Sebas had been handing him new ones when he’d run out, and he hadn’t been paying attention.

“I’ll be back,” he said, when Sebas gave him a questioning look.

Sebas nodded, not bothering to follow him. Roque wasn’t sure if he was relieved or annoyed by that. He wasn’t sure of anything, and it was all messing with his head.

Rather than go to the bathroom, he stepped outside and found a bench to sit on. Most of the people milling around had come out to smoke. It always surprised him how many of the athletes smoked when it only made what they did harder. He didn’t know how Zoe broke records with the way she tormented her lungs.

He thought about asking someone for a cigarette. It wasn’t like he was training for anything. Maybe that could be his new hobby.

“Hey, I thought you went to the bathroom, but you never came back,” Sebas said, seeming to appear out of nowhere. Roque didn’t fall off the bench, but it was a near thing.

“You don’t need to babysit me,” Roque insisted.

Sebas frowned.

“I’m not. You didn’t come back. I got worried.”

“That I can’t piss without your help?” Roque snapped.

Sebas got that look again, and it reminded him of the look he’d worn after Charlie slapped him. But Charlie wasn’t here. It was just him, and it made Roque feel sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for Sebas, but Sebas stayed a step out of reach. “I’m just going to go back,” Roque said, feeling the weight of his own actions pressing on his shoulders. If he wasn’t here, Sebas could go back to having a good time.

Sebas just nodded, keeping his space.

Roque pushed himself to his feet and moved toward the path.

“I can walk with you,” Sebas said, but he didn’t sound like he wanted to. He sounded like he didn’t think Roque was going to make it if he didn’t have someone with him.

“Go have fun. I’ll be fine.” He tried to sound reasonable rather than angry, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded.

Sebas opened his mouth to say something, but Roque waved him off.

“I’ll be fine.” He walked away, and Sebas didn’t follow. It was for the best. Maybe if Sebas realized that he was better off without Roque, Roque could just get used to being alone rather than anticipating the inevitable.

Roque wasn’t sure that he could make it back on his own when he made it to the woods and couldn’t see anything, and every step left him feeling more off balance. He wasn’t sure how he made it back to the center, but eventually he crawled into bed and lay there with his swirling thoughts until sleep eventually came.

He woke up alone again, feeling even worse than the day before, but he had his appointment. He couldn’t miss it for fear of being kicked out of the HPC. It was honestly surprising that they hadn’t kicked him out yet just because of how useless he was.

So, Roque dragged himself out of bed. He showered and dressed, and by the time he’d done those basic things, he wanted to lay back down but needed to get going. He thought about calling Sebas since he’d said he’d go with him, but after last night, he doubted Sebas wanted anything to do with him.

Roque sat on the edge of his bed with his phone in his hands. He wrote three texts and deleted each one. He couldn’t just ask if Sebas was coming. He needed to apologize first, but if he apologized first, then Sebas would think he was only apologizing because he wanted him to come with him, which wasn’t the case. Roque had been trying to apologize for over a day, but he kept messing it up like everything else.

Roque shoved his phone in his pocket and stood up. He could do this without Sebas. He didn’t need anyone to hold his hand even if the thought of Sebas being with him had been the only thing keeping him from losing it over the appointment in the first place.

When Roque opened the door to his room, Sebas was sitting on the floor beside it. He was wearing the clothes he’d been wearing last night, and he looked like he hadn’t slept.

“What are you—”

“I said I would go with you.” He sounded a little defensive, or maybe he sounded tired. Tired of Roque being awful, no doubt.

“Why are you out here though?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me in there,” Sebas said, pointing to Roque’s room.

Roque felt his heart shatter, and suddenly his wrist didn’t seem like the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Chapter Text

Sebas hadn’t meant to be cruel. He really hadn’t known if he’d be welcome when he got back from the cabin the night before. Zoe had let him sleep on Renata’s bed while they’d shared. It had been awkward, and he hadn’t gotten much sleep, but it was better than going to Roque’s room and getting his heart broken again.

What he wasn’t expecting as he sat on the floor was for Roque to look like Sebas had punched him in the gut. He had that pitiful look he’d worn after Diego had punched him and how he’d looked after his wrist had been broken.

Sebas was on his feet before he could really think about it, pushing Roque back into his room. He didn’t know what was going on with Roque, but he knew it wasn’t good. Last night, it had been so hard to let him go, but Sebas hadn’t wanted to fight with him. He didn’t want Roque to feel like a burden, but he didn’t know how to make him understand that he wasn’t one. Sebas was happy to take care of him when he needed it. He'd thought they were making progress, but now it didn’t feel that way.

Not to mention, Sebas was exhausted from training extra with Javier to make up for this appointment. Everything hurt, and he didn’t have the energy to fight with Roque.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Sebas asked, pushing Roque down to sit on the edge of his bed. Sebas sat beside him, not wanting to interrogate Roque but needing some answers.

“I’m—”

“You’re not fine. You’ve been pushing me away for days, and now today you look like you’re going to cry because I said it.”

Roque’s shoulders hitched. “I going to lose everything.”

Sebas pulled him into his body and wrapped his arms around him. “You don’t know anything yet, and you aren’t losing me no matter what the doctor says.”

“You’ll get sick of me, or I’ll leave the center, and you’ll forget about me. Look at Amaia and Cris.”

“We aren’t Amaia and Cristian. Come on, you’ll miss your appointment, and then things actually will be bad,” Sebas said, pressing a kiss to Roque’s shoulder before dragging him out to his car.

Sebas tried not to glance around, not wanting to see their teammates as they left. He’d told Javier about going. Javier hadn’t been happy at all. Sebas had sat silently as Javier lectured him about having his head in the game and how distracting himself with Roque’s issues would only hurt Sebas and the team. Sebas had promised to practice extra before and after team training. Javier eventually relented, but he hadn’t been happy about it. Sebas hadn’t expected him to be, but he was hoping Javi didn’t punish him too harshly for it. Especially since Charlie skipped out not long ago to follow Amaia around without any repercussions.

Since he’d spoken to Javi, he’d spent almost every waking minute training. When the team broke for lunch, he ran extra drills. Sometimes, Javier stayed and worked with him, other times, it was just Sebas practicing tackles and resetting everything between attacks.

Sebas was exhausted, and for days, all he’d wanted to do was go to bed with Roque and just hold him, but every time he’d gone to see him, he’d been pushed away. So, he’d stopped going. Now, it felt like he was punishing himself in training for something that didn’t even exist.

Looking over at the passenger seat, Sebas’ heart broke. Roque had his arm cradled to his chest with his shoulders hunched forward, like he was protecting it or himself. He’d been doing so much better lately, but obviously that had only been because he’d thought he was making progress.

Sebas reached over and pulled Roque’s hand out of the protective huddle he was doing and pulled it to him. He kept his eyes on the road as he pressed a kiss to Roque’s knuckles. Then he let the hand rest in his own lap with their fingers carefully intertwined.

It wasn’t a short trip, and Sebas didn’t know how Roque had planned to make it alone with a hand he couldn’t grasp the clutch with. He didn’t ask what Roque’s plan had been. It had probably just been to suffer because that seemed to be how things were going.

Sebas played with Roque’s fingers gently, needing to get out his own nervous energy but afraid that speaking would only make things worse.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t…” Roque started but trailed off either from loss of words or the courage to say them.

“When you came back, I told you I wanted to be with you. That hasn’t changed,” Sebas cut through the lingering silence.

“I know.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me away? It hurt when it was just the exercises, but I got over it. The last few days have been horrible…” Sebas ran his palm down Roque’s back.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m trying really hard, and it feels like it doesn’t matter.” Honestly, Sebas was used to that when it came to the team. He’d take it to the grave that he resented Charlie and even Cristian, neither of whom had earned their positions through the things he’d done. Sebas was used to that though. Sports weren’t always fair. They had to fight for their opportunities. Sebas just hadn’t thought that his relationship with Roque would require the same, especially when there wasn’t anyone he was competing with for Roque’s attention or affection.

“I—”

“I know you’re sorry!”

Roque’s chin dropped, and Sebas felt like an asshole. He had so much weighing on him, and Sebas wasn’t helping.

“I’m sorry too. It just hurts to be pushed away, especially when I don’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything. I just…everything feels hopeless.”

Sebas swallowed around the lump in his throat. He hated seeing Roque like this. Roque was the rock that built the foundation of their team. He was the one they looked to when things were messed up, even Charlie.

“It’s not.” Sebas didn’t have any more profound words to say. He just hoped that he was right, and they weren’t driving towards more bad news.

The waiting room was miserable when they arrived. It wasn’t crowded or anything, but the closer they got to Roque’s appointment, the more he withdrew. He didn’t pull away from Sebas when Sebas wrapped an arm around him, but Sebas could feel the walls going up. This wasn’t the Roque he knew, and he felt helpless in how to bring that man back.

Sebas was just as nervous as he was, but Roque let him worry at his fingers without pulling his hand away.

When Roque was called into the office, Sebas expected to be left behind, but Roque didn’t let go of his hand. When Sebas gave him a questioning look, he ducked his chin.

“I need you,” he admitted.

Sebas was out of his seat and in Roque’s space immediately. He gave Roque’s fingers a gentle squeeze. He wasn’t about to argue with him. In fact, his heart might just swell right out of his chest at Roque’s admission. Maybe everything wasn’t lost even if they were struggling.

“Anything you need,” he whispered as he followed Roque back.

The surgeon didn’t say anything about Sebas being there when he greeted them. He wasn’t particularly friendly, but he was straight forward.

Roque had definitely set himself back, but Sebas was blaming that on Olympo and Charlie rather than Roque. He was also taking a bit of it himself since Roque wouldn’t have beaten up Charlie if not for him. Not that it mattered to Roque who was always willing to take the weight of the world on his shoulders.

The surgeon showed Roque the x-rays again, and Sebas saw them for the first time. Even he could tell that they didn’t look good. Roque nodded along, but he stopped doing that when the doctor started talking about timelines.

Sebas felt his heart drop as the surgeon talked about the possibility of always having pain in his hand and wrist. He didn’t think that Roque would lose function if surgery was successful, but the possibility of chronic pain was high.

“What can he do to minimize that?” Sebas asked when he realized Roque wasn’t going to ask anything.

“Follow the directions we lay out. Don’t use the hand even if it isn’t hurting you. You have to let it rest and heal,” the man said, addressing Roque rather than Sebas.

Sebas took note of everything the doctor said and peppered him with questions until he was satisfied. It wasn’t good news, but the surgeon seemed positive about Roque’s outcome, so long as surgery was successful and Roque was careful going forward. There were a lot of ifs which he knew would be tearing Roque up, but Sebas was determined to help Roque any way he could.

When the surgeon went over protocol and preparation for the surgery, Sebas got his phone out and actually took notes while Roque nodded along. Sebas could tell he’d shut down around the time the surgeon mentioned the possibility of chronic pain even if he returned to full function. Sebas wanted to reassure him, but he couldn’t imagine what was going through Roque’s mind.

Until now, Roque had been struggling with not feeling anything, but now he had to worry that if feeling returned, it would bring constant pain with it. That was a lot to weigh on him.

“I will see you on the twenty-third,” the surgeon said, and Sebas froze.

“Of this month?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Sebas ignored the edge the doctor’s words had like it should have been obvious.

“We’ll be in France then…”

“You’ll be in France,” Roque corrected him, staring at something no one else could see on the blank wall.

“What do you mean I will be? You’re the captain—”

“I was the captain.”

“But you’re going to travel with us. You’re still part of the team.”

Roque sighed. “I’m not going to be traveling. I’ll be here getting the surgery.”

Sebas felt his heart stutter. “But I need to be here…” He held up his phone with all his notes about when Roque had to fast and who he had to see to get clearance.

“It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. What if something happened? What if Roque needed help, but he was in France? What if something went wrong, and Sebas wasn’t around?

Sebas swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“You don’t have any other dates?”

The surgeon looked at him like he was a fly that he really wanted to swat.

“That is the date.”

Sebas nodded. Maybe he could talk to Zoe. Maybe she could keep an eye on Roque…or Renata. Renata had a similar work ethic to Roque. Maybe he’d listen to her without fighting it.

The ride back to the center was worse than the ride there as far as Sebas was concerned. Neither of them spoke the first part of the trip. Sebas didn’t know what to say, and he assumed Roque was still processing it all.

“I’m sorry I won’t be there,” Sebas finally said. There was no way to get out of playing in France and still be a part of the team. As it was, he doubted Javier would be giving him much time during that match after Sebas had asked to be able to attend this.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know. I just wish I could be there.”

Roque nodded.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

This time Sebas nodded. Then he reached over and pulled Roque to him. Roque leaned over and rested his head against Sebas’ shoulder and his hand in Sebas’ lap. Sebas pressed a kiss to Roque’s temple as he continued to drive.

The damage Charlie had done was becoming too real. Olympo hadn’t magically fixed it. In fact, as far as Sebas could tell, they’d only made it worse. Roque had done further damage because he couldn’t feel the pain it was causing him.

Sebas wished he could tear them all apart, but he knew that wasn’t how it worked. He wouldn’t have stayed in the closet for so long if tearing apart people who’d wronged him made anything better.

When they reached the center, Sebas followed Roque back up to his room. He tossed Roque’s bag beside his bed and watched Roque crawl onto the covers and just sort of sag into them like he’d become boneless.

Sebas pushed away the memories of Roque flinching away from him, and he climbed onto the bed as well, covering Roque’s body with his own. He pressed kisses to the back of his neck and shoulders until Roque turned his head and let Sebas press their lips together.

“I love you,” Sebas whispered, needing Roque to understand what he meant to him whether or not he was injured or the best athlete on their team. “No matter what happens. I love you.”

Roque’s eyes widened. He didn’t say anything, but he deepened their kisses, pouring his feelings into it.

Sebas continued to pepper kisses all over Roque’s body as he slowly helped him out of his clothes. Cris was still at training, and Sebas knew that he should catch the afternoon session since they’d gotten back early enough, but he couldn’t leave Roque like this. He wasn’t sure he could leave him at all after the morning they’d had.

So, Sebas kissed every inch of skin beneath him while Roque just lay there. Sebas thought he’d fallen asleep as he tugged his jeans down his legs and dropped them on the floor, but Roque was watching him as he crawled back up his body.

“This okay?” Sebas asked, stroking his fingers down Roque’s spine.

Roque nodded, but he just continued to lie there. Sebas sighed, moving to rest over Roque again like a massive, weighted blanket. He intertwined their fingers and just breathed.

“I love you too,” Roque whispered long after Sebas had thought he’d fallen asleep. Maybe Roque had thought the same and that it had been safe to say it without actually being heard, but that thought vanished when Roque held him more tightly. "...no matter what happens."

Sebas' heart stuttered at his words. No matter what. His lips curled into a smile as sleep slowly pulled him deeper.

Chapter Text

When Sebas woke, Cris was asleep in his bed, and it was dark. He rolled, allowing Roque to breathe for possibly the first time in hours, but Roque followed him like he couldn’t bear to be without Sebas’ touch. So, Sebas pulled him to his chest and let Roque settle there. He pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and held him close.

Sleep didn’t want to return, so Sebas laid there stroking Roque’s spine and listening to Cris snore softly across the room. Roque’s thigh was wedged between his own, and it was not helping him relax and fall back to sleep.

Maybe it was the high of having Roque return the words he’d been so afraid to say. Maybe it was the wild emotions he’d been feeling for days. Maybe Sebas was just horny and wanted to make it Roque’s problem. It didn’t matter what the exact origin of the feeling was, Sebas wanted Roque terribly.

It was unfortunate that Cris had chosen this night to actually sleep in his own bed, but Sebas wasn’t about to be deterred. Waking up to one’s roommate getting lucky was hardly uncommon at the HPC. It didn’t even make the gossip mill unless the couple was noteworthy.

Carefully, Sebas pulled the sheet up the bed. They didn’t really need it considering Roque put off enough heat to warm half the HPC, but he tugged it up anyway. Then he eased Roque onto his back again. He was so used to Sebas moving in his sleep at this point that he didn’t even wake.

Sebas smiled as he pressed a gentle kiss to Roque’s throat, and Roque turned his head to give him access without stirring. Sebas knew he was the same. Sometimes, Roque woke him with kisses, and Sebas always registered them in his sleep long before he woke. He’d never been with anyone before who he trusted enough to let his guard down like that.

Slipping beneath the sheet, Sebas continued to trail feather-light kisses along Roque’s throat then chest. The softest sigh slipped from Roque’s lips, and Sebas had to adjust himself in his briefs.

Roque loved him.

He almost felt embarrassed by how much that meant to him, how much it softened all the hard edges he’d meticulously built over the years. Despite how difficult things had been for them as they found their footing, Roque shared everything he was feeling, and that made everything that much better.

Sebas ran his tongue along the hard surface of Roque’s belly. He was always amazed by how firm Roque’s body was. Sebas built muscle and was in incredible shape, but Roque was on another level, and it made Sebas a little crazy.

Roque still didn’t stir as Sebas pressed a kiss just above the waistband of his briefs. Even when he pressed his mouth to Roque through the soft material, he remained relaxed. However, his body began to respond to Sebas immediately. His cock began to harden against Sebas’ lips as he continued to mouth at it gently.

It was as Sebas tucked his fingers into the waistband of Roque’s briefs, that a strong hand stopped him. He could feel Roque’s body tense as he fully woke, probably registering Cris’ continued snores.

“What are you doing?” Roque whispered so quietly that Sebas wondered if he’d imagined it.

“What does it seem like I’m doing?”

“Cris…”

“Can sleep through a war. Just keep quiet.”

“It’s not me that I’m worried about,” Roque retorted, and that was fair. Of the two of them, Sebas was certainly the more vocal.

“I can be quiet.”

“Maybe when I’m choking you.”

“I’m not going to be quiet if you make me laugh.”

Sebas knew he’d won when Roque lifted his hips just enough to let him slide his briefs down. He didn’t take them off completely even though he wanted to press himself between Roque’s thighs. Instead, he ended up guiding Roque’s legs up over his shoulders, so he could settle be between them. This was even better as the underwear kept Roque’s thighs tight around him.

Roque buried his fingers in Sebas’ hair even before Sebas got his mouth on him, and Sebas only just managed to hold back the moan that fought to slip free. It was almost like Roque was determined to prove him wrong about being able to stay quiet. Roque was too good of friend to purposely wake Cris though, which meant that Roque just couldn’t control his need to touch Sebas.

Sebas didn’t waste time. He pressed his lips to the head of Roque’s cock before letting Roque guide it between them. Roque’s hips pressed upward, and Sebas quickly realized that the tables had been turned.

Roque had taken control and between the fingers in his hair and the thighs trapping him, Sebas was at his mercy. Sebas shoved his hand between his body and the bed and squeezed his own cock which ached terribly at the thought of Roque taking what he wanted from him. He managed to slide his hand into his underwear to grip himself, but it was a struggle.

Sebas completely gave in to Roque, relaxing his jaw and letting Roque set the pace. Roque didn’t abuse that submission. He kept his thrusts shallow and his grip just the right side of painful. More than anything, it was his thighs squeezing Sebas’ head and the overall feeling of being held in place that had Sebas barreling towards his own orgasm.

The fact that he couldn’t get a good grip on himself because of the position only made it better. He half stroked, half ground against the bedding. It felt filthy in the best way as Roque had full access to his mouth.

True to his word, Roque remained silent, but the tenting of the sheets from his bent knees gave Sebas glimpses of how affected he really was.

As Roque got close, his thighs tightened around Sebas’ face as did his grip in his hair. Sebas had no control over the way that made his entire body tremble and his balls tighten. He didn’t have a chance to warn Roque that he was close, and he ended up spilling all over the his hand and into his underwear as Roque thrust deep into his mouth.

Sebas couldn’t breathe as his body shook with wave after wave of pleasure, and that only heightened everything. He saw stars as his cock gave another pathetic twitch against his palm.

Roque came down his throat, taking any hope for breath away as he pressed Sebas to him. Sebas gasped for breath when Roque finally sagged against the mattress. Neither of them were being quiet enough as they were overcome by the moment.

Roque’s touch turned soft in his hair as his cock softened against Sebas’ cheek. Sebas pressed open-mouthed kisses to Roque’s thighs as they both caught their breath.

Cris continued to snore across the room, and the thrill of that danger sparked just a little in Sebas’ gut even as he too softened against the damp sheets.

Sebas didn’t rush to extricate himself from Roque. Instead, he continued to lavish kisses against every bit of skin he could reach.

“I love your thighs,” he whispered, leaving wet kisses there.

“And I love this.” He pressed a kiss to the crease where his leg met his body.

“And this.” He kissed the sensitive skin at the base of Roque’s cock.

“And this.” He moved lower, kissing his balls and smiling as a tremor wracked Roque’s body.

Roque didn’t stop him, and Sebas let that embolden him as he pressed on, licking the skin behind Roque’s balls. That earned him an almost silent gasp as Roque’s hand went back to Sebas’ hair.

“No.” Roque’s voice was shaky despite it being a whisper.

“You don’t think I love this?” Sebas asked innocently.

“Not going to stay quiet if you keep going…”

“I kept my end of the bargain,” Sebas challenged, pressing his tongue just behind Roque’s balls again and grinning as Roque’s body convulsed with something that was a cross between pleasure and overstimulation. It was probably a little bit cruel, but Roque hadn’t been playing fair either.

“Are you going to explain to Cris why I woke him up by screaming if you keep going?”

Sebas looked up Roque’s body to his gorgeous face and grinned. “Sure.”

Roque’s eyes rolled back right before he dropped his head down onto the pillows, and his body relaxed around Sebas. It was the sweetest kind of permission. Sebas was going to tell him he loved that too, but he didn’t want to push it.

Sebas trailed his tongue down further, fighting Roque’s trembling the entire way until he pressed it to the tight ring of muscle. Sebas brought his hands up to grasp Roque’s ass as he teased him with his tongue.

Even Roque’s fingers trembled against Sebas’ scalp as he pressed his tongue firmly against him.

“Sebas…” It wasn’t a command or a plea. It was entirely Roque having no control over his own tongue, and Sebas could hardly contain the love he felt as he pressed his tongue inside Roque.

Sebas felt Roque shifting as he pressed his tongue into him again, and then he heard the muffled sound of Roque moaning into his pillow. He pulled back just enough to see one of the thick pillows they usually slept on covering Roque’s face, and his braced arm awkwardly pinning it in place. He was certain that no fantastic tackle he’d ever made in rugby had made him feel as powerful and on top of the world as having Roque nearly smother himself with a pillow to keep from screaming did.

Sebas didn’t stop. In fact, Roque’s muffled sounds only made him double his efforts. He worked his tongue in and out of Roque, and he brought his hand up to stroke Roque’s twitching cock while the other joined his mouth.

Roque’s fingers tightened in his hair again as he worked a finger in alongside his tongue, stretching him open. Sebas’ entire body hummed as he pressed his finger deeper, searching. Somehow, Roque muffled the cry he made as Sebas pressed against his prostate.

Sebas alternated between using his mouth and his fingers, keeping Roque on the edge until he couldn’t hold back anymore. Roque spilled over his fist with Sebas’ fingers buried in him, and Sebas watched in awe. He pressed kisses to Roque’s thigh as he continued to rub his prostate until Roque couldn’t handle it.

When he pulled his hand away, Roque lifted his legs to free Sebas and rolled out of bed. He awkward pulled his briefs up as he stumbled to the bathroom. He caught his shin on Cris’ bed and cursed as he limped the rest of the way.

“Is he okay?” Cris asked, still sounding half asleep as he sat up to see the bathroom door close.

“Yeah, I think I was crushing his bladder,” Sebas lied as he tugged the sheets over himself again despite how gross the entire bed was.

“That’s the worst,” Cris commiserated before rolling over and beginning to snore again almost immediately.

Sebas was forced to smother his laughter in the same pillow Roque had which was how Roque found him when he returned from the bathroom. Roque smacked his head lightly as he climbed back into bed, and Sebas could only grin at him as they tried to avoid the various wet spots as they settled down again.

“I love you,” Sebas whispered against Roque’s ear when they finally curled together.

“Don’t start that again,” Roque warned.

“Start what?” Sebas asked innocently.

Roque shook his head, but he pressed a light kiss to Sebas’ forehead. “I love you,” he whispered back, holding Sebas just a little closer than before.

Sebas woke up again early, and though he didn’t want to leave Roque, he got dressed and headed to his self-imposed additional training. He hit the gym, less concerned about getting crushed again when everyone was still asleep. He took a jog around the track until Javier showed up and told him what he wanted him to do.

Javier didn’t ask about Roque. He didn’t acknowledge that Sebas had missed training or why. He just told him what to do, but he didn’t lecture him either. He didn’t tell him how awful his form was or that he needed to get his head together. Sebas would take that tradeoff.

By the end, Sebas was drenched in sweat and aching, but Javier threw in one of his ridiculous pet names when he told Sebas to reset the equipment for when the team arrived, so Sebas figured he was forgiven. However, that only lasted as long as it took for the team to get there.

Then Javier was back to being ice cold, and the rest of the team wasn’t nearly as quiet about asking where he’d been. Sebas was honest when Lobo asked.

“Roque needs surgery. I took him to his appointment.”

Lobo actually looked upset by that. He got it. They all should have understood how devasting the need for surgery was after believing that it wouldn’t be necessary, but at least one of them did.

“He okay?” Lobo asked as they grabbed the pads for tackles.

Sebas looked at him, weighing how honest he should be. Then he sighed. “He’s not great. He wants to play. Being sidelined in messing with him.”

Lobo nodded, but he didn’t ask any more questions. It was a relief because Sebas didn’t have any answers.

The rest of the team didn’t ask after Roque, but there were plenty of comments about Sebas not showing up less than a week before they headed to France. Sebas took it all silently and just worked extra hard to show that he was committed. He connected hard on his tackles, and he wiped the floor with everyone on the mats. Despite whatever he’d done to his shoulder when the lights had gone out, he also made gains in the gym. It was amazing what a bit of determination could achieve.

Sebas figured he was doing well, and the noise had quieted down about his brief absence. That was until they scrimmaged.

Cris had the ball, but Lobo came in hard. Cris managed to stay on his feet, and Sebas rushed in for a maul. Mauls were always controlled chaos, but Sebas was focused on pushing forward despite the wall of bodies pushing back. He had his arm around Cris, propelling him toward the goal line and his head down to protect himself.

He didn’t see the elbow coming. He wasn’t even sure it was an elbow, but he didn’t know what else it could have been. One moment, he was entirely focused on the play, and the next he was flat on his back and Javier was crouched over him. At least, he was pretty sure it was Javier.

The world looked weird. The light was wrong, and one half of his face felt like someone had jammed a hot poker through it.

“Stay down, kitten.” That was definitely Javier’s voice. His hand on Sebas’ chest was gentle, so Sebas was pretty sure whatever had happened was bad.

Sebas heard Javier yelling at the team, and he was pretty sure that it was about them injuring people at practice. It sounded like it was under water though.

“What happened?”

“You took an elbow. You’re going to have a pretty eye in a bit,” Javier told him, rubbing his chest almost soothingly as he held him down.

Sebas hadn’t lost consciousness. It was just disorienting to have an elbow catch him in the face. His face was wet, and he realized it was his nose pouring all over him. Someone tossed a towel to Javier who handed it to him. Sebas pressed it over his nose and tried not to drown himself.

It wasn’t his first time taking an accidental hit to the face. It wasn’t even the first time getting his nose rearranged by it. However, it didn’t feel like an accident. Nothing felt accidental after Roque.

Maybe that was why Javier was staying in the middle of it. No one was questioning who’d done it or how it happened. They were waiting for Sebas to get his wits about him, which meant they were waiting for him to explode…which meant it was obvious who’d done it.

Sebas forced himself to lie still. He wasn’t going to get kicked off the team because of Charlie. Whether or not the elbow came from Charlie himself—which it obviously hadn’t given that Charlie hadn’t been cleared to play yet. It had still been his work.

Javier barked at the team to run a lap while he made sure Sebas was good to go. Sebas didn’t have a concussion based on how he tracked Javier’s fingers, but his eye was rapidly swelling shut.

“Take the rest of the—”

“I can play,” Sebas gritted out. He couldn’t afford to miss more time even if Javier approved it. The team would hold it against him.

Javier gave him a look that said he thought otherwise.

“Just stop my nose from bleeding. I can play with the eye.”

“I need you to be able to play in France. Forget about a scrimmage.”

“I need to.”

Javier sighed, understanding that this was a matter of team hierarchy. If Sebas walked off the field, he was giving the vultures a free meal. They wouldn’t give him peace. He had to make them sorry where it counted.

“You are a lot of trouble these days,” Javier said as he packed Sebas’ nose full of cotton.

Sebas laughed. “Maybe,” he agreed.

“You were doing very well in the maul. You were propelling the forward movement. Keep it up.”

Sebas ducked his head, struggling to accept the praise from Javier. He hated himself for craving it when Javier wasn’t any better than Charlie. But Javier had always been good to him even if he said things that cut Sebas to pieces some of the time.

“Take it easy out there,” Javier ordered, giving his shoulder a rough squeeze.

Sebas nodded but immediately ignored his words as he got to his feet and brushed the dirt off himself. Cris gave him a concerned look as Sebas joined their team as they got back to scrimmaging.

Then on the next play he tackled Lobo with enough force to send them both tumbling. Lobo waved off Cris’ offered hand, and he gave Sebas a nod of understanding. Sebas popped up immediately and looked around until he caught Marristany cringing and looking nervous. He was pretty sure he had his answer as to who’d hit him. Sebas was almost certain that this wasn’t what Javier had in mind when he told Marristany to look out for Charlie.

Sebas wasn’t going to take their shit. He liked Lobo, but he wasn’t above Charlie’s nonsense either, and he had to pick a side. The rest of practice went similarly. He threw his weight around both physically and metaphorically, and by the end of it, he was covered in more bruises than just his face.

Sebas loathed the ice bath, but he forced himself to get into it for the sake of his aching body. Several of his teammates eyed him as he sank in, but he ignored them. He wasn’t going to let them walk all over him. He wasn’t Roque. He didn’t turn the other cheek.

All of that didn’t make up for the fact that he wanted to scream as he submerged himself. His entire face felt like it was on fire as the icy water washed over it. When he came back up, Cristian and Lobo were climbing in beside him.

“Planning to drown me?” Sebas asked, no longer trusting anyone.

“Us? Drown you?” Cristian asked in disbelief. “You wiped the floor with all of us. I was on your team, and I have bruises from how hard you were playing.”

Sebas turned his entire head to level Cristian with a flat look since he couldn’t see out of the eye closest to him. Cristian ducked his head and muttered something about Roque breaking his other arm when he got a look at Sebas’ face.

Lobo kept his comments to himself, but Sebas understood him. This was the peace offering.

“He needs surgery because of us,” Sebas vented as the rest of his body began to ache as much as the bruised parts. That was the problem with the ice bath. It didn’t make his bruises and aches feel better; it just made everything feel equally as bad.

“He needs surgery because of Charlie,” Cristian said.

“If it was just Charlie, he wouldn’t have had the balls to do it. Everyone watched that video when the picture got posted. Everyone watched Diego punch him in the face and did nothing…”

“You included,” Lobo pointed out.

Sebas remembered holding Lobo back that day. He wasn’t wrong. Cris had the grace not to point out that he hadn’t been around to stand up for Roque, or he likely would’ve thrown himself at Diego. Cris was many things, but afraid to apologize for his wrongs wasn’t one of them. From what Roque had let slip, it had been Cris who’d actually posted the picture, and Cris would’ve owned it, and probably kicked Diego’s ass—though back then, he may have needed some help. But that was the sort of thing that would’ve gotten the entire locker room involved. It was dizzying how one little difference could have changed everything. Instead of breaking the locker room up, it could have been the thing that galvanized them. Instead, Charlie had been the one to take control of the moment.

Sebas sighed. “Me included, but it’s got to stop, or we’re not going to have a team by the time the World Cup happens.”

Chapter Text

Roque had forced himself out of bed after Sebas left for practice. He hadn’t been able to sleep once he’d left, so Roque decided that getting up was a better idea than rotting there.

He ended up sitting up in the stands for the rugby practice. He’d avoided it up until this point, but he wanted to see Sebas play. He still felt like he needed to apologize for how hard he’d pushed him away, but he didn’t know how to show Sebas that he wanted him even if he struggled with it sometimes. Sebas deserved a genuine apology and more. He deserved Roque to stand by him the way he’d stood by Roque.

Not to mention, Sebas had taken that leap that Roque had been too afraid to do himself. Roque hadn’t expected the declaration, certainly not while they were just lying there after an exhausting day. Sebas’ bravery had spurred his own, and now Roque wanted to show Sebas that it hadn’t just been empty words.

After restlessly pacing his room for a bit, he’d decided to face at least some of his fears and just go watch Sebas practice. Sebas had been doing so much for him lately, and he hadn’t even gone to see him fight for a bigger position with the team yet, despite having nothing but time on his hands.

It was hard to feel like he was pulling his weight in their relationship, but he knew Sebas would tell him he was being ridiculous. This was something he could do though. He could sit in the stands and give his support without getting on the field and making a spectacle of himself with the team. Sebas deserved it.

However, when he arrived, it was just Sebas on the field running around to warm up. Not long after, Javier arrived, and Sebas ran drills and practiced tackling with him. This went on for more than an hour before the first players showed up, and Roque was concerned about how tired Sebas must already be.

Sebas drank some water, but he hardly took a break before doing warmups with the rest of the team. He was clearly already warmed up, but he jogged with the group like he wasn’t. He was still lounging in the seats when Sebas got bumped during warmups. It wasn’t anything serious, but from the stands, Roque had seen the player move into position to do it. He frowned when Sebas didn’t even react.

Despite the extra work and how exhausted he must be, Sebas did well. Clearly, whatever extra time he’d been putting in had been paying off. However, Roque was more concerned with the picture that was slowly coming into focus in his mind.

He didn’t move when the team took a break. No one had paid him any attention yet, and he stayed low in his seat, not wanting to draw it now. Sebas chatted with Lobo, but he mostly kept to himself, and Roque felt the weight of responsibility beginning to rest on his shoulders. Sebas had always been close with the group. He laughed and fooled around with Charlie, Lobo, and Cris most days, but he’d always been a part of the group on the field. Now, he reminded Roque of himself, not separate, but also not part of the group.

When they came back together for a scrimmage, Roque considered leaving. It was one thing to watch drills, but it was something else to watch gameplay and face the fact that he might never do that again. He stayed if only because Sebas hadn’t shied away from his struggles yet.

When Sebas went in to help propel Cris forward, Roque was impressed by his success, then he was horrified as the same player who’d bumped him during warmups lifted his elbow and caught Sebas in the face. Roque had seen the entire thing as Marristany quickly slid to the back of the crowd as Sebas went down.

The breath caught in his throat as another player tripped on Sebas as they tried to figure out what happened. At least, Javier was quick this time. His whistle shut down play, and then he put himself between Sebas and his teammates.

Roque was ready to rush down there and rip Marristany to pieces, but he was frozen to his seat. He couldn’t move as he watched Javier press a palm to Sebas’ chest. It wasn’t good if Javi wasn’t letting him up. Roque wasn’t sure if it was good or bad, but Javier’s body blocked much of Sebas from view.

Roque’s chest was so tight as one of the staff ran a towel over to them. The team had given them a bit of space, but not enough to allow Roque to really see what was happening. He felt like he might pass out if Sebas didn’t get up soon and brush it off.

However, when Sebas rose to his feet, Roque’s gut plummeted. His entire kit was covered in blood. Roque couldn’t see the details of his face, but he could see that his nose was bleeding heavily, and the left side of his face was swelling up.

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Sebas almost exclusively taking showers in Roque’s room rather than the locker rooms. Sebas covered in more bruises than he should have been after practice. Sebas acting defensive when Roque would question him about them. It all came to perfect clarity, and Roque felt his blood begin to boil.

He watched Javier pack Sebas’ nose and let him rejoin his team, and Roque barely stopped himself from punching something with his injured hand. Javier was just going to let Sebas keep playing when he’d just been leveled.

Roque didn’t want to leave, but he couldn’t watch anymore without getting involved. He had the presence of mind to know that that would only make things so much worse. Roque got to his feet and headed for the exit. He glanced over his shoulder one last time to see Sebas tackle Lobo hard enough that Roque winced. Maybe Sebas could take care of himself, but he shouldn’t have to.

Javier looked surprised when he walked into his office to find Roque standing there looking at old team pictures. There were plenty of Iker and the team he’d led. However, there were several of the current team or most of them. Sometimes, Roque forgot that Javier actually liked most of them. It was really just him he had a problem with.

“Come to tell me your latest scheme to play at the World Cup?” Javi asked as he crossed his office to his desk.

“I’d be speaking to you on the field if that was the case,” Roque said, trying for casual but knowing he’d missed it by a mile.

“Then maybe you plan to lie to me about Sebas being sick again?”

“He was sick. Just not with a stomach virus,” Roque acknowledged.

“He was doing well before you came along.”

“He’d be doing well now if you had any control over your team.”

“I have full control over my team!” Javier exploded, throwing his clipboard onto his desk much like a child throwing a tantrum.

“So, you are allowing your players to target each other?” Roque put his hands on his hips, unwilling to be intimidated by Javier.

“What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Javi. Your players are targeting Sebas. You think Marristany just accidently elbowed Sebas in the face? When was the last time that’s happened? How about all the other bruises he’s been wearing?”

“I don’t have knowledge of those things the way that you clearly do…”

“But you know. You may be a lot of things, but you aren’t oblivious. You know what they’re doing. You told me that you make the rules for your team. You could play your grandmother if you wanted. That means you’re letting them do it.”

That seemed to give Javier pause. He looked like he hadn’t taken that into consideration, and Roque wanted to shake the man. He’d openly humiliated Roque in front of the entire team, and he hadn’t even considered that his silence was as good as sanctioning what was going on.

“I don’t know why I even came to you. It’s not like you care at all about your players. It’s always been about optics. You all accused me of seeking attention, but everything you do is about attention.”

Roque knew he couldn’t go to Jana about this, but he could go to the league. He wasn’t sure they’d listen to him, but he could take a page out of Amaia’s book and call in the people who actually had authority to make some changes.

“He’s going to be fine,” Javier insisted.

“He’s never been fine! Before, he was terrified of being himself because he was afraid of what the team would do or say. Now, he’s living out those fears because you let it happen.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn’t gotten involved.”

“Being afraid of your own fucking shadow is a problem, Javier. It just wasn’t your problem.”

Roque threw up his hands and walked to the door. He didn’t bother to look back at Javier. It was pointless. The man couldn’t see past his own prejudices for the good of his team; why would he do so for the good of a single player?

It wasn’t like he’d expected the meeting to go well, but Roque felt no satisfaction as he stalked out of Javier’s office. Several players were still in the locker room as Roque walked through, and he caught sight of Marristany standing at his locker completely oblivious to Roque’s presence.

Roque didn’t have control over himself as he walked over and shoved him face-first into the wall of lockers without slowing down.

“What the—” Marristany’s words died on his lips as he turned and saw Roque walking away. “He needs you to fight his battles now?”

Roque turned around, but he didn’t look at his former teammate. He looked at Javier who was standing in the doorway of his office. The man looked like he’d aged years in the thirty seconds it had taken Roque to cross the locker room.

“Marristany, a word,” Javier called.

Roque shook his head. Too little too late, but that wasn’t his problem anymore.

He went back to his room and sat on his bed and faced the fact that he’d been oblivious to all of this. It wasn’t just that. It was the fact that Sebas had made sure that he remained in the dark. He hadn’t wanted Roque to know. He hadn’t wanted Roque’s support even after he’d gotten mad at Roque for not wanting help with something as insignificant as his finger exercises.

Roque wasn’t sure who he was angrier with the team for being horrible to each other, Sebas for being a hypocrite, or himself for believing that Sebas was honest with him and respected him.

His phone chirped with a new message, and Roque picked it up to see Sebas had messaged him about going to the trainers and grabbing lunch with Cris and Lobo. He didn’t bother to mention what happened because he didn’t think Roque knew, and he wanted to keep it that way. Roque threw his phone across the room.

He needed to get some of this energy out, or he was going to do something he’d regret. So, he went to the gym and ran on the treadmill until his lungs burned, and his legs felt like jelly.

Sebas still hadn’t returned when Roque came back. It was midafternoon, and training had definitely ended for the day, but Sebas wasn’t there.

Roque sighed as he grabbed clothes for a shower. He fumbled with getting his clothes off as the water heated up. Even though he hated to keep it on, he didn’t take the brace off because he knew he couldn’t trust himself not to injure it further right now.

So, he stood beneath the hot water and pressed his forehead to the tiles as he tried to hold himself together. Even with the brace on, he fumbled with the soap, and every time he had to pick it up again, he felt more and more pathetic.

Of course, Sebas didn’t want to tell him about his troubles. Roque couldn’t even take care of himself, never mind help Sebas with anything. By the time he’d washed himself, he was feeling just as low as he had before his appointment with the surgeon. It felt like every time he had some hope that things would get better, those hopes were crushed. And even worse, this time Sebas couldn’t help because he was part of the problem.

Roque was zipping up his hoodie when Sebas walked in the door with Cristian. They were laughing about something which felt so jarring considering Roque felt like his world was falling apart.

“I know it looks bad, but you should’ve seen the play I made,” Sebas said, turning to Roque with a big smile on his face.

Roque felt sick to his stomach. How easily had Sebas lied to him in the past? Had anything he’d ever said been truthful?

“Hey, it’s okay. I know it looks bad, but I’m okay,” Sebas said, clearly reading the look on Roque’s face. He came over and put his hands on Roque’s shoulders. massaging the tension in them.

Up close, Sebas looked horrible. His eye was swollen shut, and his nose was swollen enough that it made him sound like a cartoon character. And yet, he was acting like it was no big deal.

“What happened?” Roque forced out, giving Sebas a chance to be honest. He hoped Sebas would choose to be honest with him.

“Cristian had the ball and Lobo stopped his progress, so I shoved in to keep him moving forward, and I guess I was just too excited, and I guess I took myself out with someone’s elbow, but Cris broke free, and we got a try…”

Roque nodded, looking over Sebas’ shoulder at Cris who was nodding along. Cris had promised him that they’d have each other’s backs, but he was lying to him too.

“Where I was sitting, it looked like Marristany elbowed you while you weren’t looking, then Javier stopped play when you went down,” Roque said, looking at the eye Sebas couldn’t see out of. He was afraid to actually meet Sebas’ gaze. What if he denied it without batting an eye?

“What?” Sebas sounded genuinely confused.

“I thought I’d watch you practice. You always take the time to do things with me. I—” It sounded silly to his own ears. Sebas helped him dress, made sure he ate, and drove him to doctors’ appointments. Roque showed up to practice to watch him play. They’d never been partners.

“You were there…” Sebas sounded upset, and Roque wasn’t sure what he had to be upset about.

“That makes it harder to lie to me, doesn’t it?” Roque asked, standing up.

“I wasn’t—”

Roque gave him a flat look that shut him up immediately. When he looked at Cris, he was backing out of the room like a coward. That was probably for the best.

“I don’t think this is going to work out, Sebas,” Roque said when Cris was out of the room. He hadn’t been planning to say it, but it came out, and he didn’t think he could put it back. How could they go back to how things were?

“What do you mean?” Sebas sounded so confused, and Roque had to force himself to stand his ground.

“I don’t think that this…” he gestured to the both of them, “…is a good idea anymore.”

“What? Because I got hurt at practice and didn’t want to worry you?” Sebas’ voice held a tinge of panic to it, and Roque felt a small amount of satisfaction that he cared enough to be upset.

“Why have you been coming back covered in bruises? Why are you always showering here instead of in the locker room? Why—”

“Enough! I didn’t want to worry you. You have so much going on. You don’t need to worry about me and the team.” He reached for Roque, but Roque kept his distance. He couldn’t let Sebas touch him. If he did, he’d give in.

“But you got angry with me when I didn’t want to do my exercises with you? Don’t you see that’s hypocritical?”

“I wanted to help!” Sebas insisted, reaching again for Roque. He looked pained, and Roque warred with himself over his desire to ease that pain or save himself from greater pain. He stepped back.

“But you won’t let me do the same for you!”

“I didn’t want to upset you…”

“I’m not a child. I want a partner who respects me. I don’t need a caretaker. I’ve taken care of myself for years whether I was healthy or injured. You insist on doing everything with me, but you won’t even be honest with me about yourself. What else have you been lying about? Did you say you liked it rough, so I wouldn’t think twice about the bruises?” Roque felt like a train gone off the rails. He didn’t have much control, and he didn’t know how to stop. He was just going along for the ride as his emotions got the better of him. He’d probably hate himself afterward, but letting Sebas lie to him wouldn’t make him feel any better.

“Of course not.” Sebas sounded horrified and defeated, and Roque felt awful for throwing that in his face. Sebas’ anguish over enjoying that couldn’t have been faked, but he didn’t believe anything anymore. Everyone lied to him, and he clearly couldn’t trust his own judgment. “Roque…”

“Do you really think I’m that pathetic?”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all,” Sebas insisted, once again reaching for Roque, but Roque shook him off.

“I think you should leave,” Roque said, turning away from him, and trying to block him out. He felt like he was digging out his own heart, but it was better to do that than let it fester.

“Don’t I get to say anything?” Sebas asked. His voice was low and pitiful, and Roque could tell the swelling in his face was only being compounded by how upset he was.

“Why? So you can keep lying?” Roque sat back down on his bed, and it wasn’t lost on him that it was the same spot that Sebas had found him after he’d been injured.

“I didn’t…I can’t…I love you.”

As far as love declarations went, it was stuttering and sad, but it still felt like a shot to the gut. Roque didn’t turn around to see Sebas’ face. He couldn’t face him and wonder if it too was just another lie.

“Get out, Sebas.”

“Roque...”

He felt Sebas’ fingertips on his shoulder, and he wrenched his arm away. He made the mistake of looking over his shoulder, and he saw the look of utter brokenness on Sebas face as he took a step back. He wasn’t looking at Roque as he turned, but Roque could see the tears in his eyes. He didn’t know if he’d ever really seen Sebas cry, and it just dug at him deeper.

The sound of the door shutting made everything seem final, and Roque felt all of the fight go out of him as he sagged onto the bed. He remembered lying there at Olympo’s headquarters and feeling alone, but it hadn’t compared to this.

Chapter Text

“How’s your face?” Zoe asked, pulling the massive icepack off Sebas’ face.

Sebas groaned. He’d been lying here for hours since Roque had broken his heart and thrown him out. Sebas hadn’t known where to go, so he’d come here to lick his wounds. It had been Renata who’d answered his knocking, and she’d looked horrified when she saw him. She’d gotten him ice while Zoe tried to get anything resembling sense out of him. Eventually, they’d just let him rest while some of the swelling came down. It seemed that that reprieve was over though.

“I’m fine.”

“Try again. You look like you took a bat to the face.”

“It’s not the face…Roque kicked me out.” There, he’d said it. It didn’t feel any more real or sensible when he said it out loud. So, he reached out and took the icepack back and dropped it right back on his face, hoping she’d leave him alone, despite the fact that he’d come here because he didn’t want to be alone.

“I’m sorry, Roque did what?”

“Broke up with me and kicked me out of his room.”

“Why?” She sounded like she was in disbelief which Sebas could relate to. That didn’t mean he wanted to explain it to her. Well, he did want to talk to her, but he didn’t really know how.

Sebas tried to roll away from her, but that meant putting pressure on the swollen side of his face, so he rolled back onto his back and stared up at the ceiling through his good eye.

“What happened? You two were all over each other at the cabin.” Zoe didn’t miss much.

Sebas hadn’t told her that they’d had a fight that night. She’d only seen them pressed together beside Renata. He hadn’t told her a lot of things lately, perhaps because he knew she would tell him that he was being an idiot. She never said it quite like that, but she usually got the point across.

“Sebas…”

“I lied to him.”

Zoe gave him a look that said she was going to need more information than that, and Sebas sighed. He didn’t even know where to start because it had all gotten so complicated. He just wanted to play rugby and be able to be with Roque, but somehow, he’d managed to fuck it all up.

“It started like a week or two ago. I was in the gym one night and the lights went out, but it wasn’t a power outage. Someone had turned them out. I got trapped under the bench press bar, and I had to slide the weights off. I figured it was Charlie messing with me…”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like karma or anything,” Zoe teased him, and Sebas managed a small smile. Of course, she wouldn’t feel sorry for him for that. He’d pretty much done the same to her, though he hadn’t left her there alone. Nuria had been there. He wouldn’t have even if she wasn’t there. They were only messing with her, not looking to hurt her.

“I didn’t tell Roque because I didn’t want him to get upset…”

“Oh boy.” Zoe dropped onto the bed beside him and pulled his head into her lap. She was settling in for a long story.

So, he let it all come spilling out. The fear of the locker room, the bruises from practice, the empty locker, and on and on. She ran her fingers through his hair as he spoke, and maybe it was a little bit soothing. Maybe it helped him get it all out.

When he got to what had happened to his eye, he could feel Zoe tense up.

“It wasn’t great…”

“He could’ve really hurt you.”

“I know…but I talked to Cris and Lobo and a few of the other guys, and we decided we need to stick together. So, maybe it was good. Maybe we can fix this before the World Cup. We used to all be close. So, Cris and I went back to his room, and we agreed that we shouldn’t tell Roque because we didn’t want him to be upset…but he’d been at practice and saw the whole thing, so he knew I was lying…and then he asked if I lied to him about everything.”

“Oh, you idiot.”

“He’s been hurt, and he hasn’t been doing well lately, and I didn’t want him to hurt himself more or be upset about me…”

“And what did he say?” She sounded like she already had an idea, and Sebas wondered why he was the only one who’d been blindsided by this.

“He said that I was a hypocrite because I always want to be involved in his problems but won’t share mine.”

Zoe was shaking her head, but it was in a way that said that was precisely what she’d expected, and Sebas was a complete fool.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked, pulling the icepack away from his face to really see him.

“Always.”

“Do you not understand that Roque might be hurt, but he could still wipe the floor with half of your team? He might not have use of his hand, but his thighs alone could kill a man. Like do you really believe you need to protect him, or was it just easier not to tell him? Honestly.”

“I help him get dressed and—”

“Okay, Sebas, look at me. Roque is like a tiger in a zoo. He may let you feed him and wash him and dress him up, but he is still a tiger, and he could eat your face at any moment if he chose to.”

“He’s been so low lately though…”

“Maybe because everyone is treating him like he’s broken…or his boyfriend isn’t being honest with him because he doesn’t think he can handle it. That’s got to wear on him, don’t you think? When we were at Olympo, he walked out of there on his own two feet. He had some help, but he dragged himself out of there after losing enough blood to need a transfusion. I barely made it out of there when they told me there was a needle involved.”

Sebas felt his gut clench. He didn’t appreciate how reasonable Zoe made all of that sound. Had he been making it all worse? Had he really been making Roque feel like crap about himself because he was afraid of upsetting him?

“Fuck.”

Zoe smiled at him. “You two are lucky that you’re both pretty because you’re both bad at communicating when it matters.”

“Shut up,” Sebas groaned. He appreciated that Zoe could still tease him at a time like this, but this wasn’t like last time. Roque wasn’t just going to let him grovel and forgive him. Roque wasn’t like Sebas. He wouldn’t have told him to get out if he’d thought he might regret it.

Sebas’ heart ached at the thought that this was it, and he’d done it to himself. He knew how he’d felt when Roque had lied to him, but he’d gone and done the same thing. Maybe it hadn’t ended in one of them being outed, but it was a betrayal nonetheless.

“I just wanted to go back to his room and let him take care of me.”

“You guys are disgustingly sweet. Renata won’t let me near her when she so much as trips over her shoelace, and you guys just cuddle because one of you is feeling sad.”

“Not anymore.”

“So, apologize.”

“He doesn’t want to hear it.”

Zoe sighed. “I guess it’s over then. Maybe Diego is still available…”

Sebas reached up to bat at her. “Shut up!”

“Then stop moping and do something. Seriously, you can’t just move in here because Roque kicked you out. Also, you smell like a gym sock, so please take a shower before Renata strangles you and disposes of your body.”

Sebas sighed. He’d been planning on showering with Roque and not even because of the locker room nonsense. He’d been so happy about coming to an agreement with most of the starters that he’d wanted to celebrate.

“We’re going to get dinner. Why don’t you shower while we’re down there. I’ll even be the best friend ever and cross enemy lines to get you some clothes that will fit you.”

“You don’t think I will look good in Renata’s leggings?”

“I mean that would be one way to find someone to move on with, but again, she might just kill you.”

Sebas showered, and true to her word, Zoe left his clothes for him on her bed which she’d stripped the sheets off to wash. Sebas dressed and headed down to eat. She and Renata had already left, so he made his way over to Diego. Not because he was interested but because they were decent enough friends. The girls sitting with Diego looked at him with wide eyes.

“Did Roque really do that?” one of the asked as he sat down.

He whipped his head in her direction not being able to see her out of his left eye. “What?”

“Everyone’s saying Roque beat you up and threw you out.”

“Who is saying that?” he asked, feeling rage boiling under his skin. Who would believe that Roque would do that? Who would even suggest it? Roque was competitive, but he certainly wasn’t violent off the field.

The girl shrugged. “Everyone.”

Leave it to the damn HPC to spread rumors faster than Zoe could run. “Roque didn’t hit me. Marri did it during training.”

“But everyone heard you two fighting.”

Sebas wondered why he’d thought he should leave Zoe’s room. It would’ve been so much easier to hide in there until Renata actually kicked him out than endure this.

“Even if we were fighting, that doesn’t mean Roque hit me. Ask anyone on the team. Everyone saw me get hit.”

Neither of the girls looked convinced, but Diego did. In fact, he looked like he knew exactly what was going on. Sebas doubted that Diego was involved, but he had his sources of information.

Sebas sat alone when everyone else finished. He was so focused on moving his food around his plate that he didn’t notice Charlie until he was right next to him.

“What the hell do you want?”

“I hear Roque had messed you up. I just wanted to see if you were okay,” Charlie said with that smooth veneer he always managed.

“Wasn’t Roque.”

“Maybe not your face, but he still fucked you up.”

Charlie had him there. Sebas didn’t even fight him when he pulled out a chair and sat with him. Sebas was too tired to fight.

Chapter Text

Roque wanted to hit something. He wanted to take the restless energy inside himself and let it out, but there was nothing he could do with the poison that seemed to be flowing freely through his veins. He couldn’t work it out in training or the gym. He couldn’t wrestle his teammates until he felt the satisfaction of victory. He couldn’t even pick up with gym bag with his injured hand.

So, he paced around his room like a caged lion at first, it wasn’t lost on him that his was Sebas’ frequent method of dealing with problems. He didn’t let himself think about the utterly broken expression Sebas had worn when he’d finally turned and left. However, that left him with other things he didn’t want to think about like his upcoming surgery and how he should call his family. It also left the fact that the team was coming apart at the seams just weeks before they were set to take on their biggest challenge.

Roque was going to lose his mind if he sat here a minute longer. So, he pulled on a hoodie and went downstairs. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but when he found Amaia lifting alone in the corner of the gym, he knew he’d found it. He stood behind the rack as she pressed it up. She didn’t even flinch when she saw him there.

“Where’s Cris?” he asked when she’d finished her set.

“With the team.”

Roque frowned. He’d assumed that Cris was always with Amaia when he wasn’t in the room, but he hadn’t given any thought to the fact that Cris would hang out with their teammates and never mention it…like Sebas never mentioned the team.

“Do you really think you’re going to be able to help me with one arm?” she asked, eying him from where she was still lying on the bench.

Roque looked at the weights. She could lift a lot for someone her size, but she wasn’t lifting anything that would give him trouble even in this state.

“I’ll manage.”

Amaia shook her head. “I don’t need Sebas getting in my face about setting your recovery back.”

Roque wondered if she was fishing for information or if Cris really hadn’t told her yet. He sighed. He’d come down here hoping to avoid his thoughts, but clearly that wasn’t meant to be.

“You don’t have to worry about him. We broke up…”

“He what? Is he crazy?” she asked, pushing herself up and twisting around to face him. “He must realize that you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. I mean that wasn’t hard to do because his best friend was Charlie of all people…”

“I broke up with him.”

Amaia just stared at him for a moment before getting up and scurrying around the rack to wrap her arms around him. “What happened?” her voice was almost a whisper as she held him around the middle.

Roque looked down at her, unable to quite comprehend what she was doing. It wasn’t like it was the first time she’d hugged him, but it might have been the first time since everything happened. He stared for a beat or two before wrapping his arms around her as well.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and letting himself enjoy the comfort she brought.

“Do I have to kill him?”

“I just want…” Roque didn’t know what he wanted. He wished that he could go back to his room and check to make sure that Sebas’ face was okay, but he couldn’t do that. He wanted to be able to use his hand normally and play rugby, but that wasn’t possible either. It felt like anything he truly wanted was out of reach.

Amaia seemed to understand, and she looked up at him with a soft smile that few people got to see from her. “Will you help me work out while you think about it?”

Roque smiled even though it felt strange on his face. “Sure, darling.”

She gave him a tighter squeeze before going back around for another set with more weight on the bar. Roque was pretty sure that she did it for his benefit, so he could get involved when she struggled with the last rep. He didn’t exactly mind as he guided the bar back to the rack with just his left arm. It wasn’t like Amaia wasn’t doing most of the work, but it felt good to do something.

It was easy to remember why they had been such good friends. Amaia didn’t go easy on him despite his use of only one hand. She made him help her stretch and then forced him to do the same. They may not have been using weights for it, but he was sweating and aching in the end. She wasn’t even done yet. She made him run on the treadmill with her afterward.

It was as they were running that it kind of slipped out. “He lied to me about a lot of things…because he didn’t think I could deal with them…and now I don’t know what was real.”

Amaia glanced over at him, but she didn’t break her stride. “What kind of things?”

Roque knew how she felt about lying. He also knew how it felt when she told the truth a little too openly, but he got it. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to hear that Olympo was using him, and she certainly could have gone about it more delicately, but he respected that she never lied to him. She, above anyone else, could understand why he was upset.

“Things have been going on with the team. I went to practice to watch today, and Marri elbowed him in the face during a maul. His entire face is swollen up, but he tried to lie about how he got it, and then I realized he’d been lying about other things, and—”

“You deserve someone who’s going to be honest with you,” she said, looking over at him with her steadfast look of resolve.

“I know…I just—”

“Aren’t used to getting what you deserve? Yeah, welcome to the club, Roque. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still expect it.”

Roque smiled. He wished he saw the world as black and white as Amaia did. He wondered if he would have gone to the same lengths had Cristian disappeared the way Nuria had. He didn’t have to wonder if he would have done the same for Sebas. He would have torn the entire Andorra facility to the ground if it had been Sebas. At least, he would’ve before.

But that was the thing. Despite Amaia’s words, her actions didn’t line up. Nuria had been lying to her. Nuria continued to lie to her, but Amaia had looked for her anyway.

Amaia may have valued honesty over a lot of things, but she hadn’t let that stop her.

“He told me he loved me…”

This time Amaia stumbled, but she caught herself before she could really fall. She looked at him with a look of surprise he wasn’t used to seeing. “He what?”

“After I met with the surgeon yesterday and again when I told him to leave. He said he didn’t want to hurt me and that he loved me…but I don’t know if that was a lie too.”

“Oh, Roque.”

She sounded like she wanted to hug him again, but they were both indisposed. He wasn’t sure that another hug would fix it, but he’d missed this. It had been easy to avoid his other problems while he had Sebas to distract him, but now…he’d been avoiding so much.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted.

Her smile was genuine as she reached over to squeeze his forearm. “I’ve missed you too. My offer still stands. I’m happy to kill him if you want me to.”

That pulled a laugh out of Roque even though he also felt like crying. “I need to have surgery…”

“For your hand? When?” she sounded genuinely concerned, and he remembered how angry he’d been when she hadn’t been concerned during Nuria’s absence. She’d been so singularly focused that nothing else had registered. Perhaps they had that in common.

“Next week…”

“Who’s going with you?”

Roque just shrugged. “The team will be in France…”

“What do you mean? Someone has to go with you! What time is it? I’ll see about rearranging my training time. If I can’t stay the whole time, we’ll take shifts—”

“You don’t have to.”

Amaia gave him a look that said otherwise, and Roque got it. Nuria may have been back and healthy, but it was going to be a long time before Amaia recovered from the mental trauma she’d endured or trusted doctors in general. Even if they weren’t as close as they had been, this was probably just as scary to her as it was him.

“Don’t get yourself in trouble about it. If you can’t go, I’ll call my family.”

“Nonsense. Roque, you’re allowed to need support.” That was rich coming from her, but Roque supposed if anyone would understand that then it would be Amaia who’d been going it alone since she was a child.

“Thanks, Darling.”

They finished their workout, and Roque headed back to his room. He was too exhausted to do anything else. However, he wasn’t exhausted enough to get sleep after fumbling through another shower without Sebas there to take care of everything for him.

It should’ve been embarrassing how much he’d let Sebas help him, but Sebas never made him feel like he was incapable. He’d never made Roque feel like less because of his arm. He’d never told Roque he couldn’t do things—even if it would’ve been the truth. He’d just been there and filled in the gaps without any fuss.

Instead of showering, Roque lay on his bed replaying everything in his mind. Every time Sebas came back from practice like he forgot everything else because he’d been so excited to see Roque. Every time he’d deflected when Roque would make comments about the team training too hard. It had all been right there in front of him, but Roque had been too naïve to believe Sebas would keep something like that from him…all because Roque was too weak to be of any help.

Roque tried to focus on the good instead. He didn’t want to get lost in his head like he’d been before his appointment with the surgeon. However, anything he thought about came back to Sebas lying in bed with him, saying that he loved Roque and promising he’d stand by him. Roque had promised the same, but he couldn’t think about that without thinking he’d betrayed that promise at the first opportunity.

He betrayed it first. For some reason his conscience sounded a lot like Amaia.

Cris came in late, but he did come back. In fact, he came back with Amaia in tow. Roque considered pretending to be asleep, but Amaia didn’t give him the chance when she came over to his bed and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“We thought you could use the company,” she said, climbing onto the bed with him.

Roque looked over her shoulder at Cristian who was standing back like he wasn’t sure that Roque would want him there. Roque sighed. Cristian hadn’t been the one lying to him for weeks. If Roque knew Cristian at all, he hadn’t been aware of what was going on with Sebas. Otherwise, he probably would’ve talked sense into Sebas.

Sighing, Roque nodded to him. Cristian gave him a cautious smile, but he crossed the room and joined them on the bed. It was a tight fit, but they managed.

The next few days were hard. Amaia tried to keep him busy in the gym, but without Sebas to distract him from his hand and physio to distract him from everything, and anything to distract him from Sebas, Roque felt lost.

Roque had managed to keep himself away from the gossip while he was focused on Sebas, but now he heard all of the chatter any time he left his room. There were rumors that he’d beaten Sebas up, possibly because Sebas was cheating. There were rumors that Sebas had left him because of his hand. There were rumors about everything, and while Roque didn’t put any merit in them, he couldn’t avoid them either.

Amaia had taken it as her sworn duty to cheer him up or, if that wasn’t possible, keep him distracted from it all. Which was the main reason he was being dragged to the cabin two nights before his surgery and the night before the rugby team left for France.

“Why am I here again?” Roque asked as he, Cristian, and Amaia stumbled through the woods toward the cabin.

“You can’t stay in your room forever,” Amaia said, sounding slightly exasperated since he’d asked them this several times before and during the hike to the cabin.

“The gym isn’t my room…”

Cris’ laughter was not helping the situation.

“You need to see people. You’ve been locked away for weeks. It’s not healthy,” Amaia explained patiently, which Roque found amusing given her track record on healthy habits and people.

“Yeah, Roque. Got to get out a bit. Let loose,” Cris agreed.

Roque continued to follow them until they reached the cabin. He forced himself to keep moving despite the memories of his last visit. He remembered Sebas’ hurt expression when Roque pushed him away. That hadn’t been a lie. Sebas wasn’t that good of a liar. No one was. Roque remembered opening his door to find Sebas there in the morning, timid but determined to be there. It was hard to stay angry with Sebas the more he thought about it.

What had seemed so damning and insurmountable in the moment now seemed like a miscommunication. Under normal circumstances, Roque would’ve seen that from the start. Things weren’t normal though, and everything had been wearing on him for so long that even little things seemed so big, which only made Sebas’ actions seem more reasonable in retrospect.

Shaking off the memories and his own worries, Roque hoped that this trip to the cabin wasn’t nearly as emotional. It was still fairly early when they arrived, and Amaia found them a place to sit while Cris got them drinks. Roque wasn’t going to drink, but he took the beer to have something in his hand.

Amaia sat in Cris’ lap, and they all chatted while someone got the music going. They were there nearly an hour before the party really started going, but it was nice to hang out while it was still lowkey.

Roque was surprised when Zoe and Renata arrived without Sebas. He’d assumed that that was where he’d gone after leaving Roque’s. Roque held off interrogating Zoe for a while, but when Amaia and Cris got up to dance, he made his way over to them.

“Come to make a request?” Zoe asked, sitting beside the music equipment she’d seemingly inherited in Gunter’s absence.

“No.” Roque was a little surprised she hadn’t greeted him with a rude comment or accusation about hurting Sebas, at least emotionally. He doubted she would believe the rumors about the bruises.

“Then it must be about Sebas.” She gave him a flat smile that said she had no desire to be in the middle of this, but Roque just wanted to know how he was. He couldn’t be Sebas’ partner if Sebas didn’t respect him as an equal, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care…didn’t love him.

“Is he okay?” Roque asked, not bothering to hide his motives.

“Physically or emotionally?” Zoe was clearly not in the mood to be straightforward the way Roque was.

“Both.”

She huffed out a laugh, but she clearly wasn’t amused. “I don’t know. His face is twice its usual size, and his boyfriend kicked him out of the only safe space he had since his best friend humiliated him in front of his entire team, so you tell me how you think he’s doing.”

Roque opened his mouth to say something. He wasn’t sure if it was to defend himself or his actions, but the words died on his tongue as Sebas walked in behind Charlie.

“Yeah, that’s how he’s doing,” Zoe muttered, and Roque realized that not all her anger was with him on this.

It didn’t matter though. His throat felt too tight, and his entire body was suddenly sweating as he watched Sebas remove his coat and follow Charlie to the bar like they were friends again. He didn’t look in Roque’s direction, but that could have been because he couldn’t see him with the swelling. His face looked even worse than the last time Roque had seen it with purples, reds, and yellows.

“What were you expecting, Roque? He was feeling low, and that’s what Charlie preys on.” Her words weren’t said maliciously, but they still cut to the core.

Roque turned away, and he found Amaia’s eyes on him as she danced with Cris. She looked concerned, but Roque waved her off. He’d broken up with Sebas. He didn’t have a right to be angry about who Sebas showed up with.

Still, it felt like a knife in the gut. Sebas knew what Charlie had done to Roque. He’d faced Charlie’s viciousness himself. How could he forgive him? How could he show up here by his side like nothing had happened?

Chapter Text

Sebas had seen Roque as soon as he’d stepped into the cabin. How could he not? Roque looked so good in a flannel shirt that someone absolutely had to help him button, despite his protests. His hair was getting longer, and it had the perfect curl to it. Not to mention the five o’clock shadow he was sporting because Sebas wasn’t helping him shave anymore. Sebas clocked it all.

It wasn’t fair that the lack of all the things Sebas had painstakingly helped him with just made him hotter. None of that mattered though because Roque didn’t want him. Roque didn’t believe him when he said he loved him. That hurt the most. He could handle Roque’s anger about the lying. Sebas had known he’d be angry about it even if he didn’t think he would have been that angry. Sebas had weighed that possibility before hiding it from him. Roque’s anger had seemed less terrifying than him going after Charlie again.

No, it had been the fact that he doubted Sebas’ feelings. Feelings that had been so hard for Sebas to understand himself and even harder to admit. It had felt like he was back in the gym as Charlie saw him for who he was and wholly rejected him. It wasn’t fair that no matter what he did, emotionally he ended up right back there watching his greatest fears play out then quickly realizing they were nothing in comparison to other possibilities…like Roque bleeding out in front of him.

Sebas followed Charlie to the bar and ordered himself a shot and a beer. Knocking back the shot was uncomfortable with how messed up his face still felt. They’d given him something for it, but it hadn’t been bad enough to warrant heavy painkillers. The problem was simply that Sebas was expressive, and every expression he made pulled at the tender skin.

He didn’t really hear what Charlie was saying as he spoke. He didn’t hear much of anything as he went through the motions. He’d accepted Charlie’s olive branch because he needed a place to stay, and his old room seemed like a logical place for that. The team also needed unity, and whether he liked it or not, Charlie was still a part of that. He didn’t want to come off as a hypocrite after his little speech to Cris and Lobo, though even he could admit that perhaps they would’ve seen the difference when it came to Charlie.

“You’re better off without him,” Charlie said, and the caught Sebas’ attention.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows only to regret it when it made his face hurt. He took a sip of his beer wishing that would magically do what his prescription hadn’t.

“You’re better off without Roque,” Charlie clarified like there would be any other him involved with Sebas.

That was the thing. Sebas had been at the HPC for a while. No one else had even tempted him to consider acting on his attraction to guys. It had only been Roque who’d been worth the danger of it. He was still worth it if Sebas was being honest with himself.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sebas muttered, more into his beer than as an actual response. Charlie didn’t seem to notice and kept going.

“I mean, look at him. He’s here talking to guys. What has it been since he dumped you? A day?” Charlie asked, pointing in Roque’s direction. It had been four days, but Sebas wasn’t going to admit he’d been counting every single one.

Sebas couldn’t help himself, turning his head and looking in the direction Charlie pointed. Sure enough, Roque was standing against a wall, and another athlete that Sebas had seen in his orbit, before they’d gotten together, was speaking to him. The other guy’s arm was braced just beside Roque’s shoulder, so he could lean in to speak to him. Roque wasn’t pushing him away, and Sebas’ gut twisted.

Sebas drained his beer and motioned that he was going to grab another. Charlie gave his shoulder a squeeze as he walked away. Sebas wasn’t stupid. He knew Charlie was using this to his advantage, just as he’d known Charlie wasn’t a nice person prior to hurting Roque. Knowing that didn’t make Roque’s actions hurt less. It just made him feel like he was being hit from all sides.

Renata was standing at the bar when he got there. She gave him a look that should’ve been lethal, but he was too numb to really feel.

“After everything, you’re just going to forgive Charlie of all people?” she asked, sounding disgusted.

Sebas appreciated that she never pulled her punches. He never had to wonder what she was thinking because she told him.

“I didn’t forgive anything. Zoe said I needed to find somewhere else to sleep, so my room seemed as good as any…”

“You’re an idiot.”

“What?” Sebas took the beer that was held out to him.

“She was trying to tell you to fix things with Roque!”

“No. She said I had to do something because I couldn’t move in with you two.”

Renata threw her hands up and shook her head like he was impossible.

“What?”

“Do something about Roque not your sleeping situation.”

“What am I going to do? He’s clearly over it. I don’t know why I thought I’d be special…” Sebas looked over at the place he’d last seen Roque, and he was laughing at something the guy had said.

Sebas’ stomach was queasy, and he knew the beer wasn’t going to help, but he drained the bottle in one go.

“Maybe take it easy. You’re going to be sick on the bus if you keep going, and then everyone’s going to be suffering.” There she went being practical again.

It was probably good advice, but Sebas didn’t take it as he accepted another beer. Renata shook her head at him as he continued to sneak glances at Roque, though he wasn’t sure that sneak was a good word for it when he had to turn his entire head to see out of his good eye. The swelling had been steadily going down, but it was still hard to open it without continued effort. He was just hoping he’d be good to go when they got to France.

Sebas didn’t lighten up on his drinking. He danced with a few girls, but most of them eyed him like he was deranged when they saw his face. Charlie waved him over to dance with a few people, but that was closer to where Roque had stationed himself. It was nearly impossible to look anywhere but at Roque as he tried to make his body cooperate in a way that resembled dancing. He didn’t think he was doing a very good job when one of the girls looked at him like he was dirt beneath her shoe.

Sebas ignored the look. He wasn’t interested, so what did he care? He was concerned with Roque and the ever-present attention he was receiving now that everyone knew Sebas was out of the picture.

Sebas was truly drunk when a yet another guy approached Roque, and they ended up leaving together. Charlie shook his head as he caught Sebas’ eyes, and even though Sebas was truly drunk, the gesture didn’t feel like commiseration. It did nothing to temper the despair that suddenly felt overwhelming. Sebas was almost certain that he was experiencing heart failure as he moved through the cabin toward the back. He remembered following the exact same path in pursuit of Roque before they’d gotten together. He remembered Roque trying to flirt with him before Sebas had gotten scared and threatened him.

Sebas paused in the same spot, praying that Roque would step out from where he’d been hiding and call him out on looking for him. However, he didn’t because Sebas could see him out back talking to that guy.

“What did they say about him? A different dick every night?” It was Charlie’s voice behind him this time, and it was just as terrifying, just not nearly as welcome as Roque’s had been.

Sebas shook his head, but everything was fuzzy and disorienting.

“He was never going to stay with you. Guys like that…” his words trailed off, but the implication was there.

A wave of nausea hit him as he saw the other man touch Roque’s chest, and he stumbled to the bathroom. Charlie didn’t follow him.

He couldn’t let Roque know how much their breakup had broken him. He couldn’t let Roque see what a mess he was when Roque himself was clearly ready to move on. Not that Roque would’ve seen him because he was busy with another guy.

As he emptied his stomach, he couldn’t get the image of Roque and the other guy out of his head. It swirled around with Charlie’s words, threatening to drown him. He couldn’t think of much else as it felt like his brain was stuck in tar.

Sebas splashed water on his face and decided that he needed to confront Roque. Roque had said he loved him, and now he was just going to hook up with every guy mildly curious about other guys that the HPC had to offer? Had Sebas been that inadequate?

Sebas tugged at his hair, suddenly terrified of what confronting Roque might reveal. Maybe Roque had just pitied him. Maybe it had been a joke all along. Maybe Charlie was right. Roque liked to fuck around, and Sebas just wasn’t enough.

Sebas needed to get out of there. He needed some air because he suddenly couldn’t breathe. However, when he opened the bathroom door, Roque was standing there frowning at him.

“What?” Sebas asked, confused by Roque being in front of him when he was supposed to be hooking up behind the cabin.

“You’re blocking the bathroom,” Roque said like it was completely obvious.

Sebas tried to determine if he was being an asshole or legitimately had to use the bathroom, and it was just a very unfortunate coincidence. He couldn’t tell. Something in the back of his brain told him that he should’ve been able to tell the difference, but he was too caught off guard to listen to it.

“Bro, piss in the woods if you’re in a hurry.”

Roque looked at him like he was speaking another language.

“Are you okay?”

“What do you care?” Sebas tried to move past Roque, but he stopped short, afraid to knock against his injured arm. It wasn’t even a conscious thought, his body just stopped when he went to shoulder past him, and he ended up stumbling instead.

Roque’s hands were on him in and instant, steadying him. However, Sebas tried to shake him off only to stumble again.

“Renata said you didn’t look well,” Roque said like it was completely normal for him to have conversations about Sebas with Renata. Sebas wanted to punch something. He wasn’t a child who needed their pity.

“What do you care?” Sebas asked again. Roque opened his mouth like he was actually going to answer, but Sebas cut him off. “Don’t you have some guy to be hooking up with?”

“What?”

“I said—”

“I heard what you said. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roque cut him off this time, not giving him an inch of space.

He still smelled so good, but even that was turning his stomach at the moment. Sebas couldn’t really remember eating today, but his stomach felt like some sort of science experiment…all because of Roque.

“You don’t need to pretend you weren’t flirting with that guy in the blue shirt or that you didn’t go outside to hook up with the other one.”

“No, I don’t because neither of those things happened. Charlie keeps sending assholes over to me with stupid questions.”

Sebas tried to understand what that even meant, but everything was too hazy. Even the lights seemed too dim around them.

“How much did you drink?” Roque asked, bending slightly to get a look at Sebas. Sebas realized he’d listed to the side, so he was now being propped up by the wall.

“Why are you even speaking to me?” Sebas demanded, but he didn’t think it came out right because Roque looked at him with concern.

Roque reached for him and Sebas tried to step away from him, but he stumbled back.

Sebas woke with a terrible headache. His mouth tasted awful, and the pain in his face was raging like it hadn’t since he first got hit. He could barely move at first because he was too overcome with all the pain. However, it slowly settled into a feeling of general awful. He tried to remember what happened the night before, but his memories were hazy at best, and then they just didn’t exist.

“Hey, you alive, Sebas?” It was Cris’ voice. He kept his tone soft, and he sounded concerned.

It made no sense. Why would Cris be in his room? However, once Cris broke the bubble around Sebas, other things started to register. Like how everything smelled like Roque.

Sebas opened his eye a crack to find he was in Roque and Cris’ room. Cris was sitting on his own bed, but he was already dressed and ready to leave with the team. Roque wasn’t anywhere in sight.

“How did I get here?” Sebas asked, feeling a kind of vulnerable he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced before, and that was a lot to grapple with.

Cris cocked his head to the side as he watched Sebas, like he was trying to decide what to say in response. Sebas wanted to demand the truth and all of it, but everything hurt too much to be forceful about anything.

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

Sebas’ heart sped up. Now that he tried to think about it, he didn’t member much of anything after arriving at the cabin with Charlie. He barely was able to swallow around the lump in his throat as he tried to remember anything.

“According to Renata, you pretty much drugged yourself.”

“What?” His entire body protested as he croaked it out.

“The stuff they prescribed you for your face to bring down the swelling and ease the pain? Yeah, probably shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol. You’re lucky you threw most of it up.”

Sebas groaned. He hadn’t really thought about the pills. He never really took anything for pain. He’d only taken them because he wanted to make sure he was cleared to play in France. He hadn’t been thinking about side effects. They weren’t even restricted medications, so he hadn’t worried.

“Yeah, not your finest moment.” Cris didn’t sound particularly sympathetic, which meant Sebas had done something to warrant it. Cris wasn’t exactly cruel for no reason.

Sebas sighed. “What did I do?”

Cris shook his head and got off the bed. “You need to get up, or you aren’t going to be ready when the team leaves.”

“No, Cris—”

Cris moved around his bed to the door. Sebas felt completely alone as the door shut behind him. More alone than four walls could possibly manage.

Had he made an ass of himself? Had he thrown himself at Roque? Had he thrown himself at some girl to prove to Charlie he wasn’t gay? What the hell could he have done?

Why was he in Roque’s bed? He didn’t feel like he’d done anything the night before, and Cris had said he’d puked, so he didn’t think Roque would’ve slept with him. No, Roque wouldn’t have taken advantage of him even if he hadn’t been sick.

Sebas’ head swirled with questions and scenarios and the growing concern that he couldn’t remember anything at all. Except, he could. It wasn’t a moment but a feeling. He remembered feeling warm and being held. It made no sense, but Sebas clung to it because if he didn’t, he was going to panic. Even so, his chest was tight, and he felt like he might lose it.

Despite everything he was feeling, it wasn’t Sebas’ first hangover, and he managed to get out of bed. He noted that he wasn’t wearing his clothes from the night before. Someone had helped him change, and that only made him feel more vulnerable.

He made his way to the bathroom that Cris and Roque shared though his body was stiff and didn’t want to cooperate.

The shower was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to him, and Sebas wished he could stay there forever. He pressed his throbbing head to the cool tiles, and he tried not to think about the last time he’d showered in here. He tried not to think about Roque’s hands on his body or his mouth. He failed spectacularly, but he tried. There were also flashes of moments that never happened. Roque standing behind him fully dressed. Roque holding him close as he stumbled.

By the time he finished, he felt slightly less queasy, but he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. He might have done just that if Cris hadn’t returned with his clothes.

Cris sat on his bed as Sebas struggled to dress himself. He was clumsier than Roque with his stupid brace as he stepped into his track pants. He needed to take a break after that, and he sat on Roque’s bed holding the team shirt he still needed to put on. Cris continued to watch him like a bug beneath a microscope.

Sebas sighed, deciding that he needed to take his own advice and face this head on. It might not have been about the team, but it could affect his game.

“Did I do something last night to piss you off?”

Cris’ eyebrows rose as he pointed at himself.

“You seem like you’re mad at me…”

“Look, I’m not trying to take sides…” Which meant, Cris had taken Roque’s side. “…but you lectured us on being a team, on sticking together, about what happened to Roque. Then you show up with Charlie last night. You showed up at a party that Roque was going to be at with the guy who possibly ended his career. And then you accuse Roque of moving on like nothing’s happened.”

Sebas felt the queasiness begin to come back. That wasn’t what happened, but he understood that perhaps that was how it had looked.

“Then when Roque tried to check on you, you accuse him of moving on with other guys. Even then, he made sure you got back here, and he helped you shower after you puked on yourself, and he stayed up all night making sure you didn’t die or something. Can you say you would’ve done that for him?”

“Yes.” Sebas didn’t even hesitate, and that clearly took Cris by surprise, but it was the truth.

Sebas would have done all of that, and he wouldn’t have minded one bit. He’d never considered helping Roque to be a chore. Though, the pit in his stomach only grew as Cris revealed what had happened.

Cris’ mouth opened and closed several times like he was trying to get himself back on track. Sebas couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t have even considered that that would’ve been his response. Did he think so little of Sebas that he couldn’t imagine him doing anything for Roque? Cris had spent a lot of time outside of his and Roque’s shared room, but surely, he’d seen Sebas help Roque at least once. Had he never walked in when Roque was cradled between Sebas’ legs with his back pressed to Sebas’ chest while Sebas pressed kisses to his shoulders as he did his finger exercises? Had he never seen the process of helping Roque get ready in the morning before training, so Roque didn’t have to struggle after Sebas left?

The queasy feeling only got worse. It wasn’t like Sebas needed the recognition for being good to Roque. He obviously hadn’t done any of it for any reason other than because he cared for Roque. It was just the knowledge that even his friends didn’t think he deserved Roque. They didn’t think he was capable of loving him. And if everyone thought so, then maybe it was him that was wrong.

Cris shook his head and looked at the clock between the beds. “We need to get going.”

Sebas wanted to insist that this wasn’t over, but what else could he say? It wasn’t like listing all the things he did for Roque would make him sound like anything other than an asshole.

“Yeah, you can head down, I’ll catch up.”

Cris gave him a skeptical look, but he didn’t argue. Sebas ended up dragging himself to the bathroom and losing what little remained in his stomach before forcing himself to get it together.

He could do this. He had to.

It didn’t exactly get easier. Javier gave him an unimpressed look when he made it down to the bus. There were a few snickers from the guys as he stood with them to board. Cris must have softened his annoyance with him though because he called Sebas over to sit with him when he staggered onto the bus.

The bus ride was awful, and Sebas barely held himself back from emptying his stomach again. That certainly wouldn’t have gotten him back in Cris’ good graces. Sebas tried to rest, but Cris was texting back and forth with someone, and he couldn’t stop himself from trying to catch a glance at his screen to see if perhaps he was chatting with Roque.

Sebas wished he could be texting with Roque. He wished he could tell him about the guys trying to sing and it being completely off key. He wished he could ask how Roque was doing and if he was prepared for his surgery. His phone felt like it was burning a hole through his pocket, but he left it there.

Why would Roque want to hear from him anyway? It wasn’t like Roque didn’t know how terribly they sang. It wasn’t like he needed Sebas to check that he was taking care of himself. He didn’t need Sebas. That was the whole point, wasn’t it?

Sebas wanted to be needed, but when it came down to it, he only made Roque’s life harder. If it wasn’t for him, the documentary wouldn’t have turned out how it did. Roque wouldn’t have attacked Charlie. He wouldn’t have lost so much blood or made his injury worse. He wouldn’t need surgery, and he might have healed in time for the World Cup. When he really thought about it, he’d done nothing but make Roque’s life worse since Italy.

That weighed on him as he caught a glimpse of Cris’ screen, and sure enough, there was a message from Roque.

—Congratulations on starting! Proud of you—

Sebas hated how jealous that single line of text made him feel. That should’ve been to him. He’d worked his ass off for that spot, a spot he’d been too afraid to talk to Roque about because he didn’t want to address the fact that it was rightfully Roque’s spot. So, he’d never told Roque how desperately he’d been trying for it.

Now, it was Cris’ spot because Sebas’s face was a crime scene, and Javier wasn’t going to take a chance on him. Or maybe it had never been his spot because he’d chosen Roque over the team. Look where that had gotten him.

Sebas kept to himself as they made it to France. He ended up sharing a room with Cris which he would’ve loved if not for everything else going on. It didn’t matter though because Cris headed down to eat with everyone else while Sebas stayed in the room because the thought of eating still sounded awful. Everything else was easing up at least, and he could actually see through both of his eyes. He’d be good to go for the match if he even played.

He sat on the narrow bed with his head in his hands. It was getting late. They had their match in the following afternoon, but he didn’t really care. All he could think about was Roque and his surgery. If it didn’t go well, there was a huge possibility that he would never play again. Sebas felt a bit silly, worrying about starting when Roque could potentially lose it all. He also felt silly for worrying about someone who wanted nothing to do with him. Though Cris had said Roque had helped him back the night before. Maybe Roque didn’t completely hate him, or he hadn’t before Sebas got sick in front of him.

He finally removed his phone from his pocket. There was a text from Charlie asking what had happened to him last night and if he’d hooked up with the girl he’d been chatting with. That was the thing about Charlie. He seemed happy to pretend Roque was a one off, and Sebas would just go right back to failing to satisfy women.

Sebas didn’t even read the entire message before scrolling down to his conversation with Roque. The last thing he’d sent was a pathetic I love you that he’d typed even before he’d snuck out of the room the other morning because he hadn’t wanted to leave Roque’s side. Maybe he shouldn’t have left that morning. Would everything be different if he had just waited for Cris? What had been the point of all that extra practice in the end?

He didn’t know what to say to Roque. He still didn’t understand what he’d done that had been so horrible that Roque couldn’t bear to see him anymore. He hadn’t wanted to hurt him, and talking about rugby hurt Roque whether he wanted to admit it or not. So, Sebas had kept it to himself.

Sebas wiped at his face as he closed the message and was forced to see the photo of Roque trying to button his flannel shirt, but he’d misaligned it. He’d struggled so hard to get everything buttoned that he hadn’t been able to unbutton them again when Sebas finally had pointed it out. He was concentrating so hard in the picture that even his tongue was peeking out, and Sebas had been so in love with him in that moment. He’d been so proud of him, and he’d needed a picture because he knew that Roque was going to be so angry about it when he realized it was misaligned, that he’d forget how well he’d done on the part that mattered.

That was Roque perfectly encapsulated. He wasn’t satisfied with just doing something. It had to be done well. Rugby was the easy example, but Sebas found that it crept into everything. He needed to be the best friend possible. He needed to be a partner and do just as much as Sebas for their relationship, or it wasn’t valid.

They all had messed up understandings of their value and what success meant. It was impossible not to when they lived so close not only to what they did but to a hundred other people on the same journey. It was impossible not to compare themselves to everyone else because everyone was certainly judging them.

But there was a special sort of scrutiny for those at the top. It was like a pyramid. If the weight of the world came down on the point, there was only that stone to bear it. At the bottom, the entire foundation bore the load.

None of it mattered though because Roque needed surgery. A different weight rested on him now.

Sebas wasn’t sure what he was doing as he opened the phone app and pressed call on Roque’s name. He bit his lip as it rang and rang, and he wasn’t sure why he was disappointed when it finally went to voicemail. Why would Roque answer?

Chapter Text

Roque was on the treadmill beside Amaia when the call came through. He glanced at the screen and almost tripped when the ID read: Sebas. Amaia saw it too because when he looked over at her, she rolled her eyes.

“What? He shows up with Charlie last night, makes a fool of himself, and he’s just now calling you to apologize…if he’s even calling to apologize. He doesn’t deserve you,” she said, turning to face forward.

Roque looked down again as his phone stopped vibrating and his voicemail picked up. His chest clenched. He should’ve answered. Sebas wasn’t one to call if it wasn’t important. Roque was more the one to just want to hear Sebas’ voice. So, he wouldn’t have called just for the hell of it…but they weren’t together anymore.

It took a strangely long time for the voicemail notification to happen. So long that Roque had just assumed Sebas had hung up and texted him instead, but when he tapped his screen, it said he had a new voicemail.

Roque frowned, but he didn’t try to listen to it. In fact, he forgot about it as they finished their cardio, and he went back to his room to shower.

He stopped in his tracks when he returned to his room to find his bed neatly made just the way he usually arranged it. He stepped closer, trying to see if anything was out of place, but it looked as though Sebas had never been there. The trashcan was back in its place. The bathroom was tidy. Even the things on his shelves had been straightened back up. The only reason Roque knew he had been there was because he’d placed him there himself.

Sebas had been so sick the night before. Even before Zoe and Renata had pulled him aside and told him that they were worried about Sebas, Roque had noticed him. Of course, Roque had noticed him. Sebas had walked in right behind Charlie like nothing had changed.

Roque had felt his heart break just a little more then, but he’d forced himself to stay. He forced himself to act like it wasn’t killing him, and in the end, he was glad he did because he doubted Sebas would’ve made it back if he hadn’t.

It had been Zoe who’d pieced together what happened with the prescription he’d been given for his injury interacting with his drinking. It had been terrifying as they’d taken turns practically carrying him back to the HPC. Well, the rest of them had taken turns. Roque hadn’t let go of Sebas the whole way back. He hadn’t been able to let Sebas out of his grasp even when his body had been shaking from carrying him so far.

Roque and Cris had decided to take him back to their room just because Cris was on the team with him and knew when they were meeting up. Roque was also the only one who didn’t have training or team obligations in the morning.

Roque had helped him out of his clothes and into the shower. He’d helped him into a pair of boxers then carried him to bed. He’d held his hair back when he’d gotten sick again into the trashcan Cris had placed next to the bed. Then he’d cleaned it out and did it all again a half dozen more times.

Sebas had rambled and apologized and begged Roque not to hate him. Roque doubted he remembered any of it, but he couldn’t forget.

Roque groaned as he stood beneath the shower. How was he supposed to forget?

“I can do it myself,” Sebas mumbled as Roque had him lean against the sink. His pants were around his ankles, and he continued to sort of kick his foot like he was trying to step out of them despite still wearing his shoes.

“I can see that,” Roque said, trying to curb the sarcasm because the fact that Sebas was standing on his own after quite literally falling over while propped against the wall earlier was something. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“You can’t…with your hand.”

Roque bit his lip. “I get my shoes off every day. I think I can handle yours.” He caught Sebas’ lifted foot and slipped the shoe off with no difficulty, using his left hand. Then he did the other and helped him step out of the pants for real this time.

“Think you can get out of your shirt?” he asked, straightening up and stepping toward the shower. Roque may have loved Sebas, but even he didn’t really want to touch Sebas’ shirt which was disgusting after he’d gotten sick all over himself in the woods.

Sebas didn’t say anything as he tugged up the hem of the shirt. However, when Roque turned back after adjusting the shower, Sebas was stuck with the shirt half off as his balance seemed to abandon him.

“Easy,” Roque said, rushing back to him and wrapping his arm around his waist to keep him from falling. Once he was steady, Sebas got the shirt off and dropped it beside his other clothing. It left his hair fluffy and standing on end, and how was Roque not supposed to love him?

Sebas looked at him with glassy eyes, and Roque’s heart clenched. Even like this, Sebas was perfect. The flush from the alcohol—and whatever else was in his system—brought out his freckles, and Roque wanted nothing more than to trace them with his thumb or maybe his tongue.

“Think you can stand in the shower?”

“I’m fine.”

Sebas was not fine. He barely made it from the sink to the shower with Roque’s help, so Roque climbed into the tiny shower behind Sebas, still completely dressed other than his shoes. He held his arm around Sebas’ waist while he let Sebas just stand beneath the water to rinse away anything still on him.

Roque wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing, but who else was going to do it? Zoe and Renata might have helped Sebas under normal circumstances, but they couldn’t lift him and drag him around like Roque could. Cris had helped Roque carry him back to the HPC, but despite his concern, he wasn’t about to give Sebas a shower. And despite her strength, Amaia was about half Sebas’ size and would’ve been crushed by him if she’d deigned to get close enough for that. Charlie certainly wasn’t going to take care of him. He probably would’ve laughed if he saw Sebas like this. And with Sebas not in control of his filter, he feared what Sebas might say in front of Charlie that would be held against him.

Which led Roque to realize something that tore at his soul. Sebas didn’t have anyone.

Despite the things that happened with his team, Roque knew that he had people. Even when things were rough with Amaia, she would’ve found a way to carry him back by herself if he needed her. Cris would always look out for him. They had each other.

Sebas had Zoe now and by extension Renata, but he’d never had a group that had his back. Charlie would’ve left him in the woods even at the height of their friendship.

“Cold,” Sebas mumbled as he leaned closer to Roque’s body.

Roque didn’t try to fight him when Sebas turned in his arms and wrapped himself in Roque. He ran his palm up and down Sebas’ back. Sebas wasn’t going to remember this in the morning. It was cowardly, but it gave Roque peace of mind.

Getting Sebas out of the shower and dressed had been harder than getting him in, but Roque managed. Sebas was slightly steadier on his feet as they walked into the bedroom again.

Cris had walked Amaia back to her room, but he’d promised to be back. Roque took advantage of the absence to help Sebas into a clean pair of boxers that had been in Roque’s laundry bin when someone had removed all of Sebas’ clothes from his drawers.

“I’m sorry,” Sebas mumbled again as Roque coaxed the boxers up his legs without knocking Sebas over.

“Stop apologizing.”

“But you hate me…”

Roque felt his throat attempt to close. That was the problem. He didn’t hate Sebas at all. He hated feeling like he didn’t measure up. He’d always felt that way, which was what pushed him to be the best.

“I don’t hate you.”

Sebas sat down hard on the bed as his balance or maybe his strength abandoned him. Roque wasn’t sure how Sebas was going to get on a bus in the morning, never mind expect to play rugby at some point.

Zoe had located the prescription and while it could exasperate the effects of alcohol, it wasn’t the worst thing he could have accidentally mixed with it. Roque wasn’t worried about Sebas slipping into a coma or something truly horrific—so long as Sebas had taken the correct dosage which he had no reason to doubt. He was just sloppy and soppy and one hell of a handful to wrangle through the woods. It wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the time Roque had pinned him to a tree.

He ignored his brain when it tried to tell him it could’ve been if he hadn’t ended things. Roque sighed as he helped Sebas settle on the bed.

“I…I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—” Sebas was cut off by a hiccup that nearly knocked him over.

Roque hated how cute it was. Clearly, Sebas hated it for other reasons as he muttered slurred curses to himself. Roque took the damp towel Sebas had lost between the bathroom and the bed, and he threw it over Sebas’ dripping hair. It was satisfying to rub it until Sebas shook him off.

Sebas was breathtaking with his damp hair sticking up and still managing to get in his face. Roque was so tempted to brush it out of his eye, but he kept his hands to himself. Sebas wasn’t himself tonight. It wouldn’t be fair.

“I was afraid,” Sebas said when the hiccups had finally settled, and he was beneath Roque’s thin sheet.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” Roque assured him, not really following his scattered thoughts.

“Not anymore…I already lost you.”

Roque’s chest clenched, but he held himself still. Sebas was just drunk and rambling. He didn’t know what he was saying, and he wouldn’t remember this in the morning. It would be cruel to push him to confess something he didn’t have the sense to keep to himself at the moment.

“I’m right here,” Roque said instead.

“You’ll stay?” Sebas asked, sounding so hopeful it broke Roque’s heart.

He remembered seeing Sebas show up to the party with Charlie, and now that the sting had worn off, he felt so deeply sad for Sebas. He remembered Sebas’ face when Charlie had demeaned him in front of the team. He remembered how broken he’d looked.

“I’ll be right here,” Roque promised. He didn’t mention that it was his room. It didn’t matter. Roque wasn’t leaving his side.

Sebas lifted the sheet and waved for Roque to join him. Roque was going to say no. He was going to do the right thing and just keep watch. Then Sebas shivered, and Roque folded. Sebas was always searching for heat. Who was Roque to deny him?

Roque climbed onto the bed and settled behind Sebas, letting Sebas use his good arm as a pillow.

“Not going anywhere,” he said as Sebas settled back against him, and Roque wrapped his damp brace over Sebas’ belly.

“Miss this.”

Roque’s heart ached, but he didn’t say anything. He missed it too. He desperately missed holding Sebas in his arms. It was his own fault that they couldn’t do it anymore, but Roque didn’t know how to apologize and set boundaries. Sebas had set all of their boundaries before. Roque had just dove in headfirst, but now he had to grapple with his own concerns about how to deal with them. The worst part was that he knew Sebas would’ve listened to him. He knew he would’ve been supportive. Roque just didn’t know how to do things by halves, and he was suddenly faced with the fact that his entire life had brought him to this point.

There was little compromise in professional sports. Either he gave everything he had to it, or he was left behind. Suffering was a part of it, and there was little room for complaint. Competing for a spot on the team also meant competing against the very people he was closest to. It wasn’t exactly a healthy model for interpersonal relationships.

Sebas was asleep by the time that Cris came back.

“Everything okay?” Cris asked, emptying the trashcan on his side of the room and placing it right by where Sebas’ head was resting.

“Yeah. He’s a mess, but he’ll be fine.”

“I meant are you okay? I can watch him if—”

“No. I’ve got it.”

Cris nodded and retreated to his bed. They chatted about the upcoming match and the fact that Cris had found out that he would be starting. It was nice until Sebas got sick.

Roque had held him as he emptied his stomach into the trash then Cris coaxed some water into him despite his protests while Roque cleaned up. It was a strange sort of teamwork, but in the strangest way it was nice. They had each other.

And when morning came, and Cris got out of bed, Roque slipped out from behind Sebas before he could wake. He pressed a kiss to the top of Sebas’ head while Cris was in the bathroom. Then he got dressed and headed down to the gym. Cris would look after him, and Sebas wouldn’t wake up feeling vulnerable with a stranger in his bed. If Roque’s heart broke all over again as he left, that was his secret.

Roque turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. He stared at himself in the mirror and faced the fact that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore. He’d stopped worrying about his surgery because he hadn’t stopped thinking about Sebas since he’d kicked him out. No amount of time on the treadmill or stretching with Amaia had erased the massive hole in Roque’s chest.

This wasn’t like Diego or any of the others. He couldn’t just go out and move on. Sebas had claimed a part of his heart that he didn’t know how to take back, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted it back.

He was still furious that Sebas had hidden so much from him, but he was starting to understand why he had. Sometimes, he forgot that Sebas wasn’t great at communicating his needs verbally. He was excellent at communicating physically. He knew how to touch Roque to calm him down or rile him up. He knew how to give comfort and tease and so many other things with his body. He rarely spoke those things aloud though. Other than asking for Roque to give him time, he very rarely spoke up for himself.

Roque went to sleep feeling that hole in his chest as he smelled the lingering scent of Sebas’ cologne on his sheets.

When he woke up, he got ready and met up with Amaia. The drive to the hospital was awkward because she wasn’t the best at being soothing, but he appreciated her presence. It wasn’t like the ride with Sebas where he spent most of it pressed to Sebas’ side, physically taking comfort from him.

It wasn’t until he was asked to put his belongings in an envelope that he remembered the notification. He stared at it for a moment, questioning whether to listen to it.

Slowly, he brought his phone to his ear as he opened his voicemails.

“Hello…this is Sebas…”

There was a moment’s pause like Sebas was kicking himself for introducing himself like Roque wouldn’t know his voice or that he’d called. It was sweet.

“Thank you for last night. I…don’t remember much. Cris told me about my pills and…anyway, thank you for helping. You didn’t have to, but thank you…”

There was another pause like he hadn’t actually thought about what he was going to say. Like he’d hoped Roque would’ve answered to give him anything to go on rather than speaking to open air. Roque smiled even as his heart clenched.

“…I’m not good at this. You’re so much better at saying the important things…”

Roque laughed because Sebas had been building him up for weeks when Roque couldn’t hold himself together. He’d been the one to say he loved him first.

“…and I’m no good at asking for things, especially if I need them…”

This pause went on long enough that Roque thought it was the end of the message until there was a soft exhale.

“…but I need you. I know I lied. I know you feel like you aren’t enough. I know…but I do need you. I need you to remind me to get out of my head. I need you to hide my favorite chocolate under your bed just because you know I like it. I need you to push me up against the wall…or a tree or anywhere because you aren’t afraid of me even if I am. And I need you to let me feel useful sometimes because you’re incredible at everything, and sometimes I need to remember that you struggle to line your buttons up right even when you have two good hands…”

Roque snorted even as his eyes pricked with tears.

“I didn’t lie because I don’t love you. I lied because I’m terrified of losing you. I—I watched you bleed out, and I know we don’t talk about it, but it haunts me. If it wasn’t for me…you wouldn’t have gone after Charlie. You wouldn’t have almost died…”

The shuddery breath over the line tore at Roque’s soul. He gripped his phone so hard, he was afraid he might break it.

“…I can’t be the reason you get hurt again. I can’t be the reason you don’t play again. It would kill me if you lost the thing you love most because I’m weak…so, I didn’t tell you because I’m a coward who’s always hidden from things…but you’ve always seen me anyway, and maybe I got used to you seeing through me…I don’t know. I just know that I love you, and it’s killing me not to be with you for your surgery. I know…I know you don’t want to speak to me…but I need…please have Amaia tell Cris to let me know how it goes…”

There was another pause, and Roque could hear Sebas’ ragged breaths like they were back in his room as Sebas checked on him after his injury. Roque wanted to lean in and kiss him all over again, but the line went dead as the message timed out, and Roque was back in the hospital in a surgical gown, hundreds of kilometers away from Sebas.

He wanted to listen to the message again, and he wanted to call Sebas back and tell him he wished he was there too, and that he was scared too. He wanted to admit that he’d overreacted because he’d been terrified of not being enough, and Sebas growing to resent him.

Roque opened his call history to do just that when the nurse returned.

“Mr. Pérez, are you ready?” she phrased it as a question, but it felt more like a reminder that they were waiting for him.

Roque looked down at his phone, his finger hovering over call button. He desperately wanted to call, but there was no guarantee that Sebas would answer, and he didn’t want to worry him before his match if he saw the missed call. Texting was hopeless too because they might be here all day if he had to type out: I’m sorry too. I love you.

Roque let his screen go dark and placed his phone in the envelope.

Chapter Text

Sebas sat in the locker room as the team got ready. His face was a horrendous mess of colors, but the swelling had finally gone down completely. It still hurt when he made any expression that wasn’t neutral, but Sebas was used to pain.

“Gentlemen, listen up,” Javier said as he stepped inside with the other coaches.

“We may have already earned our place in the World Cup, but that doesn’t mean we can take a step back. Every match proves that we deserve that place. It shows other teams that we are coming for them next, and we will take them down. Everyone needs to give this match everything they have. With that said, our starters are Riki, Vainilla, Abad, Lau, Lobo, Delallave, and Sendón. Lobo is our captain.”

Sebas’ head jerked up as did several of his teammates. Marri had been a starter almost as long as Lobo had. His position hadn’t been in question. Sebas looked at Javier, but Javier didn’t spare him a glance as he continued to address the team.

“We need a team that is going to fight for each other not against one another, or we will be nothing.”

The speech was pretty toned down from Javier’s usual fiery and possibly inappropriate metaphors. However, Sebas didn’t hear the rest as the roar of his own blood pounded in his ears. The guys got fired up around him, and Cris pulled him into a hug, but Sebas’ mind strayed to Roque. He wished that he could tell him because despite everything, Roque would be proud of him. At least, he hoped that he would.

The team rushed out for warmups, and Sebas made sure to stretch himself completely, so he didn’t cramp up. He didn’t want to disappoint Javier or the team. He didn’t know what made Javier change the lineup, but he wasn’t going to give him any reason to doubt his decision.

It turned out to be a rough match, but they didn’t let themselves get behind in the first half like in Italy. They worked together. Sebas’ face was bleeding again before ten minutes of play had gone by, but he was patched up and back out by then next stoppage in play. Cris didn’t fare much better after being taken down by an opposing player, but Cris passed to Lobo in the process, and they earned a try from it.

Their positioning was good all match. There was always a teammate there when one of them got into a bit of trouble, and while they would all be feeling the hits they’d taken in the morning, it was worth it.

Cris pulled him into a hug as the clock ran out. Lobo was quick to join. It hadn’t been pretty, but they’d done it together. They probably would have destroyed France if Roque had been playing, but they’d shown them that they could still hold their own even without him.

Sebas checked his phone as soon as he got to the locker room. Guys were already celebrating, but he unlocked his device only for his stomach plummet that he didn’t have any messages. He knew that he’d asked Roque to have Amaia tell Cris how he was, but part of him had hoped that Roque would have just texted him directly. That was if Roque had even listened to his message. There was a chance that he’d simply deleted it without bothering to hear it.

“Hey, Amaia says Roque’s doing okay. Surgery went well. He’s really loopy though. She says she took his phone from him before he could make an ass of himself,” Cris said, pulling Sebas into another hug.

Sebas held on to Cris for dear life as Cris gave his back a strong pat.

Sebas didn’t drink while the team celebrated. He was a little hesitant to drink anything after the other night, but he wasn’t delusional enough to believe that would last more than a few days. He celebrated though. He laughed and danced around with the rest of the team, and if he wished Roque had been there to celebrate with him, that was okay. The team didn’t seem to hold it against him that he’d been named one of the starters. Even Marri gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Javier pulled him into a hug once he was drunk and said something about knowing Sebas could handle it. Sebas had a bit of a hard time understanding his drunken rambles. There was something in there about Roque being right which sounded extremely grudging, but Sebas didn’t know what he was referencing. It didn’t matter much either as Javier petted his damp hair much as Sebas imagined a father would.

“You did well, kitten,” he said when he pulled back, patting Sebas’ battered face so gently that he barely felt it.

Sebas felt so torn as Javier pulled away and immediately pulled Lobo into a bone-crushing hug. It was different than how he treated Sebas. It was all coach though no less enthusiastic.

Sebas shook off the confused feelings as he let one of the training staff pull him over to the side to check his face.

The bus ride back to the HPC was more pleasant than the one there. It was late as they boarded, and Sebas looked forward to getting a few hours of sleep if everyone had tired themselves out. However, as soon as they took their seats, Cris called Amaia. The front of the bus was still loud with excitement, so it seemed almost private at the back.

“Hey, did you watch us play?” Cris asked immediately.

Sebas couldn’t fight his smile as Cris sounded like he needed Amaia’s approval of his play. He could admit that he would’ve given anything for Roque to have watched for him too.

Sebas couldn’t hear Amaia over the sounds of the bus, so he leaned against the window and tried to give Cris a little privacy.

“How’s he doing? The doctor said everything went okay?”

There was a pause, and Sebas strained to hear, but he couldn’t figure out what she was saying.

“That’s good…no, let him rest. I’ll see him when I get back…”

The conversation shifted, and Sebas closed his eyes again, listening to the hum of the engine beneath them. He was starting to doze when Cris gave his shoulder a little squeeze. He lifted his head just enough to look at him.

“Amaia said Roque was sleeping, but the doctors were very happy with everything. He’s got a real cast, and they want him to wear a sling for a bit, so he’s kind of helpless at the moment, but everything’s good.”

Sebas smiled. He could just imagine how not good Roque was with his arm strapped to his chest, depending on Amaia to do everything he couldn’t do for himself. Sebas would kill to be there for him.

“Thanks,” Sebas said, turning back to the window and staring out at the landscape.

“Look, I’ve been friends with Roque a long time. He can be stubborn, but he’ll come around. He forgave me for things I didn’t deserve him to,” Cris said, giving Sebas’ arm another squeeze.

Sebas didn’t say anything, but he appreciated Cris’ words. He appreciated Cris.

“How bad was the other night?” Sebas found himself asking.

“What do you mean?”

“You said Roque stayed with me…but you never said if he was angry about it or—”

“Are you kidding? He was worried, not angry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that worried. You collapsed by the bathroom, and he somehow managed to get you into his arms even with the cast on. Amaia saw you guys first, but by the time we got to you, Zoe and Renata were there too. It took all of us to convince him to put you down, so we could help.”

“Great, so I scared him half to death and probably fucked his hand up even more. I’m sure that will make him want to forgive me,” Sebas sighed.

Cris barked out a laugh, but Sebas wasn’t sure what was so funny. “Sebas, he totally forgave you for that by the next morning. He’s probably spent the last few days trying to think about how to beg you to come back to him after telling you to leave. He has pride, you know.”

Sebas shook his head. That wasn’t possible. Roque had been so angry. He’d been so hurt by Sebas. Sure, he’d helped Sebas when he needed it, but that didn’t erase what had happened.

“Believe what you want, but I doubt he would’ve let you use him as a pillow if he was still angry. He could’ve just as easily taken my bed.”

“He what?” Sebas felt his face heat. It had been humiliating enough to wake up without any memories and in different clothes than he’d been wearing. However, to find out that Roque had been in bed with him, it stung. It wasn’t that Roque had done it. It was that Sebas now had to be jealous of his own self, a version of him that had no way of remembering or appreciating the fact that he had something he might never get again.

Cris sighed like he realized he’d said too much. “Yeah, I got back to the room, and you guys were spooned together. You couldn’t stop shivering, so he got in there with you, and we piled one of my blankets on you too. He wasn’t like taking advan—”

“No, I didn’t…He wouldn’t.” Sebas knew as sure as anything that Roque wouldn’t have taken advantage of the situation. The was how Charlie operated not Roque. That thought jogged a sliver of memory from that night. Of course, it wasn’t a memory of Roque holding him. It had to be a memory of Charlie whispering poison in his ear about Roque hooking up with other guys. It was laughable now that Sebas was sober. Roque wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t have gone out of his way to hurt Sebas even if he was still angry. Sebas’ chest ached. He’d done it all to himself, including the memory loss, but that didn’t make it easier.

“Anyway, I get that you’re worried. I get that it’s hard not knowing where you stand. I’ve been there.”

Sebas nodded, and he appreciated Cris’ words, but now he had even more on his mind. One question came to the forefront though.

“Why didn’t he stay?”

Cris sighed. “He didn’t want to upset you. He figured waking up after the night you had would be hard enough…”

Sebas turned back to the window. Of course, Roque would think he was being selfless when all Sebas had wanted since he’d left Roque’s room was to be in his arms again. Sure, it would’ve been confusing, but it would’ve been worth it to feel Roque’s arms around him.

At some point, Sebas did fall asleep because he was jarred awake as the bus pulled to a stop in front of the HPC. It was very late, and there were hardly any lights around the place as the team gathered their equipment.

Sebas was still half asleep as he stepped off the bus into the a heavy rain. He felt every ache he’d earned in the match and probably a few he’d earned while drunk and couldn’t remember anything. He wasn’t really looking at where he was going when Cris gave his shoulder a bit of a shove.

“Seriously, bro?” Sebas snapped, turning to glare at Cris because he was tired and not sure where he was going to sleep because the thought of going back to Charlie’s room was turning his stomach. He could admit that it had been a betrayal to let Charlie back in. He’d been desperate, but that didn’t make it right. He could just add it to the list of reasons he didn’t deserve Roque.

Cris didn’t say anything as he pointed in the direction they were moving. Sebas turned to look in front of them, and he nearly tripped over his own feet.

Roque was standing on the sidewalk in the pelting rain. Jana’s stupid rules probably didn’t allow them to step outside without sanctions, but there they were waiting despite the time.

Roque looked terrible even from a distance. His hair was a mess, and the shadows beneath his eyes were probably visible from space. His shoulders were hunched, and the sling was impossible to miss against the stark white of his tank top.

Sebas’ chest clenched, but he fought down the sudden wash of excitement. Roque was probably there to see Cris. He was standing there with Amaia after all.

However, Roque’s eyes never left Sebas. Even as Javier got the doors open and several of their teammates gave Roque hugs or pats on his good arm as they hurried inside, Roque watched him as he cautiously drew closer.

Sebas was afraid to approach, but Roque didn’t give him a choice. He pushed through the last of their teammates and pulled Sebas to him in tight hug followed by a searing kiss that left Sebas breathless and aching. His teeth found Sebas’ lip, and his tongue pressed between his lips. He barely felt the rain as it slid down his face and the back of his neck. It mingled with the tears of relief that he couldn't hold inside.

Roque’s good hand cupped his face, and Sebas couldn’t help burying his fingers in Roque’s wet hair. They probably looked ridiculous, kissing in the damn rain between the HPC and the team bus, but it didn’t matter. Sebas needed Roque more than his next breath.

“Your arm,” Sebas gasped, pulling back and trying to keep some space between them when his brain caught up, but Roque reeled him in again.

“It’s protected,” Roque said, clinging to Sebas like a drowning man.

“You can’t get a cast wet,” Sebas scolded him, dropping his bag and tugging off his team zip-up before throwing it over Roque’s shoulders. He zipped it over the injured arm once Roque got his other arm through the hole, and he patted his chest gently. Roque gave him a look that had Sebas feeling weak in the knees for reasons completely other than rugby.  

Sebas didn’t know what he was feeling. His entire body felt hot as he cautiously wrapped his arms around Roque, feeling the hard cast between them.

“I listened to your message…I wanted to call you back, but I had to go into surgery…”

“It’s okay,” Sebas whispered, holding onto Roque just as tightly as Roque was holding him. Everything was going to be okay.

“I was scared too. I should’ve given you a chance…I’m used to being the one people depend on…”

“I know,” Sebas said when Roque paused to take a breath. His cheek was pressed to Sebas’, unwilling to put any space between them.

Sebas pulled back just enough to look Roque in the eye, but Roque dipped in close again, brushing his nose to his. Sebas smiled, feeling completely overwhelmed to have Roque back in his arms. Roque mirrored his smile before leaning in just a little further, making his intent clear. Sebas met him halfway, pouring everything he was feeling into the kiss.

Roque’s tongue pressed at the seam of his lips, and Sebas let him in. He forgot about everyone around them, not caring for possibly the first time whether his teammates saw or cared. Nothing mattered but Roque. Nothing existed but Roque.

Okay, that wasn’t true. Cris and his obnoxious wolf whistle existed, but they didn’t stop kissing even as several of the guys laughed.

Roque’s cast dug into Sebas’ chest, but he didn’t care. He wanted Roque even closer as he licked his way into Roque’s mouth, trying to devour him in hopes of never letting him go again.

“Come in out of the damn rain, you idiots!” Cris called.

They both laughed and finally began moving toward the building. They were both soaked by the time they stepped through the doors.

“Come back to my room?” Roque whispered as they both caught their breath.

Sebas opened his mouth to respond when he felt a strong pat on the shoulder. He glanced over to find Lobo standing there smiling despite how tired they all felt.

“Good job today. You were right,” Lobo said before giving Roque a light jab to his good arm. “Captain,” he said before walking away.

Sebas felt a warmth in his chest watching Lobo retreat. Lobo been named captain for their match, and it wasn’t lost on Sebas that he’d chosen to refer to Roque as captain.

Roque squeezed his waist. “Come on. I’m still a bit messed up,” Roque said, leaning against Sebas more heavily than he had just a minute ago.

“You should be resting,” Sebas scolded lightly, running his fingertips down Roque’s back soothingly.

“I needed to be here when you got back. I kept fucking up. I couldn’t fuck this up too.”

Sebas wasn’t going to argue with that because he’d be lying if he pretended this didn’t mean everything to him. Despite their win, he’d felt lost until Roque had pulled him into his arms.

“Now that I am here, you are going to rest, and you aren’t going to argue with me about it.”

Roque shook his head, but he was smiling. “I had other ideas…”

Sebas looked at him then around at the teammates who hadn’t wandered off to their own rooms yet. No one seemed to care what they were saying at all. Sebas still felt his face heat up. He wasn’t embarrassed by what he and Roque did, but he’d spent so much time keeping these two sides of himself separate that it was strange that they could just intermingle like none of it mattered.

Maybe Zoe had been right. Certainly, that wasn’t the case at first, but now, even Javier wasn’t paying them any attention.

Sebas smiled as he slipped his arm around Roque’s waist, and they made their way back to Roque and Cris’ room. Roque shuffled over to his bed as soon as they were inside. He held onto Sebas’ forearm as he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Sebas followed him, taking a seat beside him because he was afraid to let Roque out of his grasp.

Getting a good look at Roque, he looked even worse than he had outside. He was sweating despite it being cool in the room. His shoulders were hunched inward like he was protecting the arm strapped to his chest.

“Come here…You shouldn’t have come down. Amaia could’ve come,” Sebas sighed, soothing his palm up and down Roque’s back.

“I’m okay, just worn out,” Roque said, letting his body lean on Sebas.

Sebas didn’t know where to begin. He ended up pressing his cheek to the crown of Roque’s head as Roque rested his head on Sebas’ shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said, letting his arm settle around Roque and holding him tightly to him.

“I know…I overreacted. It hurt a lot when I realized you were hiding things, but I should’ve let you explain. I shouldn’t have let you go…”

They were quiet for a while as they just breathed together. It felt nice. It felt so damn good to just hold Roque again. It didn’t erase the last week, but it was a start.

“How are you feeling?” Sebas asked after a while.

“Exhausted.”

“You should rest.” Sebas got up and squatted in front of Roque to help him out of his shoes.

“I want—”

“If you say you want to have makeup sex, I’m going to punch you.”

Roque laughed. “I was going to say I want to hold you, but I can’t with this.” Roque ran his fingers over the sling.

“Lie on your back, and I’ll lie down with you. Pants on or off?”

Roque pushed himself up to stand, and Sebas took that as permission to help him out of his sweatpants. He pushed them down Roque’s hips and held him steady as he stepped out of them. Then he watched Roque carefully lie down on his back before following him down. He tucked himself against Roque’s good side, allowing Roque to wrap his arm around him.

Sebas rested his palm over the cast where it rested against Roque’s chest. He pressed a kiss to Roque’s pec and smiled as Roque tightened his arm around him.

“I watched you play. I was still pretty out of it, but you started,” Roque said, playing with the ends of Sebas’ hair at the nape of his neck.

“You did?”

“Yeah, you were great. Proud of you.” He pressed a kiss to Sebas’ head, and Sebas had to fight back the sudden urge to cry. He clung to Roque, too overcome to speak.

Sebas didn’t sleep, but he could tell that Roque fell asleep quickly. Sebas felt like he could breathe for the first time in days now that Roque was in his arms. He savored the light snores Roque made because he was forced to lie on his back. He fell in love with them as they constantly reminded him that they were together and safe.

Chapter Text

Roque woke to a soft pair of lips brushing his fingertips. His fingers twitched as a delicate kiss was pressed to each one. The sun poured through the window, and it washed Sebas’ skin in gold. He smiled as Sebas glanced up at him, mouth open between a smile and a need to devour Roque whole.

“What?” Sebas whispered, smiling as he pressed another kiss to Roque’s fingers.

“Nothing.”

“How are you feeling? Do you need anything for pain?” Sebas asked, pressing himself up to hover over Roque’s body.

“I’m okay. Not much pain,” he said, then they both paused.

Their eyes met as they realized what Roque had said. He felt pain. He didn’t feel much of it, more of a slight discomfort, but it was something. It was enough that he wouldn’t grip the wound the way he had at the Olympo facility, not that he could with the cast.

“You can feel pain? Do you want something for it? I mean…” Sebas stumbled over his words, clearly bouncing between excitement that Roque had some feeling back and concern that he was uncomfortable. It was sweet, especially after the last few days.

“I’m okay, but yeah, I can feel…”

Sebas pulled away from his fingers like he was suddenly afraid of causing Roque pain.

“No…” Roque caught Sebas’ hand with his good one and reeled him back in. “You weren’t hurting me…I liked it.”

Sebas smiled at him again, more shyly this time, but he reached down to tangle his fingers with Roque’s injured hand. It felt nice. They stayed like that until Sebas’ arm began to shake from bracing him. Roque laughed when Sebas rolled to drop back down on the bed.

“Hardly World Cup level,” he teased.

“I’ll show you a World Cup level plank,” Sebas laughed grinding against Roque’s hip. He was hard in his boxers, and Roque barked out a laugh at his terrible humor.

“Idiot,” Roque chuckled.

Sebas continued to smile at him, looking smug. Roque loved that smile. He rolled onto his good side and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Sebas’ lips.

“You have plans for that?” Roque asked, glancing down, so Sebas couldn’t possibly misunderstand his meaning.

“Plenty…if you’re up for it.” Sebas ran his fingertips down Roque’s shoulder to the hem of the sling and back up again.

“Maybe…if we take it slow.” Roque didn’t want to admit that he didn’t think he could handle much of anything. Between the last few days and the surgery, he wasn’t feeling good. He’d done most of it to himself, but he hadn’t slept well without Sebas. There had been too much on his mind, too many regrets. Then going into surgery, already feeling worn down, he was paying for it now. Though he’d slept well with Sebas beside him again.

Roque wasn’t delusional enough to believe they didn’t have a lot to talk about, but Sebas was letting him recover before he told Roque what an asshole he was. Roque appreciated that, but he also realized that this was exactly what Sebas had been doing all along, and Roque had blown up on him for it. Roque pressed his body closer, feeling cold for perhaps the first time since they’d been in bed together.

Sebas wrapped his arms around him. “We could just do this,” Sebas offered.

Roque brushed his nose against Sebas. Then he nuzzled his cheek which made Sebas giggle.

“What?”

“Not used to the beard,” Sebas said even as he tipped his head to give Roque access to his neck.

“Nicked myself pretty good the other day and gave up,” Roque admitted. There had been a very melodramatic moment when he’d seen blood welling up on his throat and wondered if that would be what did him in. It had then taken all of a dabbed tissue to clean up, but Roque had given up all the same. It hadn’t been the same as Sebas standing between his spread legs, carefully dragging the razor over his skin. Nothing was the same without Sebas, even the most mundane things.

“I like it.”

“I noticed,” Roque said, nuzzling his neck and enjoying the way it made Sebas shiver.

“I could help you—”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind it.” Roque would’ve loved to have Sebas’ full attention on him, but he wanted to see just how much Sebas enjoyed the burgeoning beard first.

Sebas nodded, moaning as Roque alternated between nuzzling his sensitive skin and kissing it. Roque couldn’t describe how much he’d missed this. He could admit that he’d been wrong. He’d been so worried about measuring up that he’d forgotten that this wasn’t a competition. He didn’t need to be the best boyfriend because that pitted him against Sebas rather than working with him. And had he been working with Sebas from the start, perhaps Sebas would have felt like he could be open about what was happening. It didn’t relieve Sebas of responsibility for his actions to admit that he hadn’t exactly been receptive in a way that would’ve helped the situation.

Sebas had been right to assume Roque would’ve tried to fix the problem—perhaps by reminding Charlie of what he was capable of with only one functional hand—but that hadn’t been what he needed. Roque needed to learn to determine when Sebas needed help versus when he needed a supportive partner which was something Sebas had been much better at navigating when it came to Roque.

“I’m sorry for overreacting and throwing you out, and I’m sorry for pushing you away even before that. I get why you didn’t tell me…and I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t,” Roque admitted, immediately regretting that he’d now also killed the mood.

Sebas ran his palm over Roque’s ribs and chased his lips for a chaste kiss. He didn’t seem to mind that things had veered off course.

“I don’t want to lie to you…I shouldn’t have…” Sebas sighed, pressing his forehead to the center of Roque’s chest just above where his arm was strapped, and he stayed there for a long time before he spoke. It was like he was using Roque’s heartbeat to build his confidence. “They didn’t come for you right away. Everyone was in shock when you fell to the ground. I don’t know who actually ran to get help. You lost so much blood before they got to you…I didn’t know what to do. At first, I didn’t want to touch you and possibly hurt you more…but you just kept bleeding. I was covered in it when they got to you. Someone came in and tried to use my shirt to make a tourniquet, but it wasn’t really enough…”

There was another long pause, but Roque didn’t dare speak. He’d never known any of this. He didn’t know what he thought had happened. He’d known that he’d needed a transfusion, but he’d just assumed that he’d been treated immediately, and it hadn’t been anything special.

“I thought you were going to die. I’ve never…but you didn’t. When they told us that you were going to be okay, I told myself I couldn’t let myself get close again…but when you fell down in the cabin, I saw it all over again. And when you told me it was over with Olympo, I was so relieved. And everything I told myself about it being better to keep my space went out the window…and I’m glad. This has been the best thing…but I can’t unsee what happened. I can’t watch you almost die again.”

“Sebas…” Roque sat up and he reached for Sebas. Sebas immediately reached for Roque as well. They held each other, and Roque tried to process it all. Sebas had told him a very sanitized version when Roque had asked, but he clearly hadn’t been able to face what had happened then. It wasn’t the same as not telling him about the team, but it all stemmed from the same place.

“Every time I thought about telling you…I’d see your blood on my hands, my face. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t…I couldn’t feel anything. I never thought…I’m sorry.” He held Sebas tighter. What could he really say? How could he possibly understand how much that moment had destroyed Sebas?

“I do love you. I wasn’t lying.” Sebas held him tighter, like he was afraid to let go, and Roque wondered how he missed how desperately Sebas held him whenever he was feeling low. It was like he needed his touch to fix the things he couldn’t reach in any other way.

“I know. I was just so lost, but I know,” Roque admitted, running his good arm up and down Sebas’ spine. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I should’ve…”

“Zoe was right,” Sebas sighed, sharing Roque’s breath because they were pressed so close.

“Yeah?”

“She said we’re terrible at communicating.”

Roque chuckled despite the tears on his face he was not acknowledging. “Maybe.”

“I understand why you were upset. You’ve been lied to a lot lately. I didn’t mean to add to that list, but I did it anyway. I’ll try to do better.”

Roque pressed a kiss to his brow, pulling Sebas to him until they were folded together with Sebas pretty much sitting in his lap. Neither one of them spoke as Sebas caught Roque’s lips and began to kiss him slowly. Roque didn’t pull back. His arm was cradled between them as they slowly kissed and touched one another.

It was an intimate position, and Roque never wanted to move as he nuzzled Sebas’ neck, eliciting the sweetest shivers. Sebas held his shoulders tightly like he might float away if he wasn’t holding Roque. It was desperate in the best possible way.

Roque wished that they’d had the forethought to remove their underwear before this because he didn’t want to move to do it now, but Sebas crawled out of his lap anyway and made quick work of their remaining clothes. He pointed to the head of the bed as he came around it, and Roque moved up, so he could grab a condom.

He tossed it to Sebas because there was absolutely no way he was opening it himself. Sebas smiled, tearing it open with ease before rolling it onto Roque’s cock. That cleared up Sebas’ intentions. Roque hadn’t really had a plan other than not letting Sebas out of his sight for the foreseeable future.

Sebas climbed back into his lap, and Roque stroked his back with his good hand. Their kisses turned hungry as Sebas rocked against him, capturing both their lengths in his hand and stroking them. There was no hurry as Roque pushed Sebas until he was lying on his back with his legs spread and draped over Roque’s own.

Sebas smiled at him through the spread of his legs as Roque fumbled with the lube then gave up and tossed it at Sebas before pushing him to roll over. Sebas went with him, but he gasped in surprise when Roque bit the meat of his ass as he settled.

“I only had a post-match shower,” Sebas warned like Roque might have assumed otherwise. Roque knew how it went. Sure, he’d cleaned up after the match, but then he’d celebrated and had to travel. He probably felt dirtier than he actually was.

“Don’t care,” Roque assured him, pressing a kiss to the base of his spine before dipping lower. This wasn’t territory they visited all that often, mainly because Sebas could not keep himself quiet or still.

Roque didn’t really care if the entire HPC heard them today though. He doubted that Sebas cared much either if the way he rocked his hips back against Roque was any indication.

Roque licked his salty skin, teasing him with his fingertips before slowly circling him with his tongue. Sebas was a needy mess almost instantly, and Roque could tell that the budding beard was going to drive him out of his mind. He gasped every time Roque’s tongue touched him. He begged when it didn’t. It was intoxicating.

The sound Sebas made when Roque pressed his tongue inside him was desperate and perfect. Roque wished he could watch Sebas’ face as he took him apart, but this was the only position he could manage with the sling. He promised himself that as soon as he was free of it and the cast, he was going to take care of Sebas properly.

Sebas didn’t seem to have any problems with how Roque was taking care of him though. He reached back for Roque as he pressed his face into the sheets. Roque adjusted his position, so he could tangle their fingers together and hold hands as he licked Sebas open.

Roque took his time, savoring every sound, scent, and shiver as Sebas came apart at the seams. He ran his rough cheeks over Sebas’ most sensitive spots just to watch him shake. His own body was a strange mix of arousal and the heavy cobwebs of the past week. He was hard and thoroughly enjoying himself but not really going anywhere. He didn’t really care though because Sebas’ vocal enjoyment was more than enough to give him a high.

Every time he pressed his tongue to Sebas, it was like a chain reaction that started with a tremor up his spine, followed by a delicious moan, and ended with Sebas squeezing his hand where their fingers were tangled together. Roque could’ve done this for hours, but Sebas wouldn’t last. Every touch garnered a more explosive response, and Roque wasn’t sure Sebas would survive if he dragged it out.

Instead, he untangled their fingers and grabbed the lube. He managed it one handed until he actually had to pour it.

“Give me your hand. Want to watch you do it,” he said.

Sebas held his hand out without a moment’s hesitation. It was a vulnerable position, and something about the thought of opening himself up for someone else’s eyes made Roque a bit self-conscious, but Sebas immediately pressed a finger inside himself as Roque sat there holding the lube.

Watching Sebas work up the urgency in Roque’s body, and he gave himself a few strokes as Sebas pressed a second finger inside. Roque leaned forward and kissed Sebas’ hand as his fingers disappeared.

It was hot. Roque pressed his tongue alongside Sebas’ fingers, loving the way the way Sebas made room for him. By the time Sebas was finished, his thigh was covered in spit and lube, and Roque didn’t think he’d ever been so turned on.

Roque considered doing things like they had their first time, but Sebas crawled back into his lap before he could tell him what to do. Sebas sank onto his length in one slow motion, and his hand immediately went to Roque’s chest, feeling his heart beating beneath his ribs. Roque met his eyes and brought his own hand up to rest over Sebas’ heart as well.

Sebas rode him with a slow, steady rhythm. He seemed content to draw it out as long as both of them could stand, and Roque didn’t mind at all. He didn’t think he’d ever been so close to someone as they were at that moment. Connected physically but also so much more as they felt each other’s hearts.

It was so easy to get lost in the noise of his injury, the HPC, and everything else. However, none of that mattered when they were like this. Nothing seemed so insurmountable when Roque was looking into Sebas’ eyes and feeling his heartbeat.

They kissed slowly as they moved together, completely lost in each other. Roque wasn’t expecting it when his body finally did tip over the edge. It wasn’t earth shattering the way some of their sex was, but it was so satisfying. Sebas wasn’t far behind, and they held each other as they shook until they finally relaxed in each other’s embrace. They remained like that, still connected and sharing breath for a long time. Even afterward, Roque didn’t want to let Sebas out of his sight.

He followed him around the room when Sebas went to take a shower. He sat on the toilet while Sebas washed himself, just needing to be close.

“What did they say about showering?” Sebas asked as he rinsed his hair beneath the spray.

Roque almost missed the question because he was so focused on the water pouring over Sebas’ muscled back.

“Can’t get the cast wet, so either cover it or figure something else out.”

“I can give you a sponge bath?”

Roque laughed because it was obviously a joke, but he couldn’t say he would’ve really minded if Sebas gave him one.

“If you want to shower, you can hold it out of the way while I wash you…” Sebas offered more practically this time.

Roque thought about it. He hadn’t bathed since the surgery which had only been the day prior, but he felt like it had been longer. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, getting up only when Sebas was completely done washing himself. He would’ve loved to help Sebas as well, but he knew that would only cause problems with the cast.

Sebas’ hands were always amazing. He was quick because it was awkward for Roque to hold his arm up and out of danger in the cramped space. However, he was still gentle and paused to massage some of the tension he found as he touched.

When they were finished, Sebas coaxed him back to bed with the promise of a massage before he helped him back into the sling. It wasn’t the explosive sex Cris told him about when he was arguing with Amaia, but it was perfect. Every brush of Sebas’ fingers relieved some of the tension he’d been storing even beyond the knots in his back. When Sebas finally stretched out next to him, Roque felt lighter than he had in weeks.

“I hurt you, and you’re still taking care of me,” Roque said, tracing the smattering of freckles on Sebas’ cheek with his thumb. He didn’t mean it as an accusation but more as wonderment.

“I like taking care of you, and I love that you let me,” Sebas said, pressing his palm to Roque’s chest again. Roque had come to learn Sebas loved to feel his heartbeat, even when they went to sleep, his palm would often find Roque’s chest.

Roque smiled. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad to be taken care of. Perhaps it wasn’t so terrible to need. Certainly not when it was Sebas.

Chapter Text

Amaia was sitting on Cris’ bed watching Roque struggle to tie his shoes. He’d refused her help twice, so it was his own fault that he was suffering. It was okay though because he needed to work on his dexterity. He’d been able to begin his finger exercises again after a recent follow-up, so he had ground to make up. Sebas had been challenging him to tie his shoes even when he was with him, so it wasn’t like Sebas would’ve been more helpful. It was still embarrassing how many times he had to start over, but it was getting easier.

“What exactly are we doing that needed to happen while the rugby team was practicing?” she asked for the third time.

“I’m cashing in on your offer of murdering someone.”

Amaia blinked at him once, but other than that she didn’t react. “Did something happen with Sebas that I wasn’t aware of? I thought you two had been disgustingly happy since that whole mess weeks ago.”

“We are happy. It’s not Sebas.”

“Diego? I mean, waiting this long will probably keep suspicion low—”

“Not Diego.”

“Are we really going further back into the catalogue of awful guys you’ve slept with? Are we just going to burn the whole place to the ground?”

Roque shook his head, choosing to ignore the implication that he’d slept with that many men at the HPC. “No. No one I’ve slept with.”

“Then who? Are we murdering Hugo?” That option made her sound rather excited, and while Roque wouldn’t have minded getting the Olympo rep out of their lives, he was a little concerned about how ready Amaia seemed.

“We aren’t actually murdering anyone. We’re dealing with Charlie, but I can’t do it myself because Sebas will worry.”

Amaia threw her head back and cackled. “Sebas will worry,” she repeated, wiping a tear out of her eye. “You two are so gross.”

“Shut up. Charlie’s going to be cleared to fully rejoin the team soon, and I don’t want him giving Sebas problems. So, we need to convince him that Sebas is off limits.”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that if smashing his face in didn’t work?” Amaia was always pragmatic.

Roque gave her an innocent smile. “We’re just going to give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“We’re going to annoy him to death?”

This time, it was Roque who laughed. “Not exactly.”

There was a knock on his door, and Zoe slipped inside. “We doing this?” she asked, holding up her backpack.

Amaia looked between him and Zoe and shook her head. “Are we planting drugs on him?”

“I’m not wasting good drugs on Charlie,” Zoe scoffed. “We’re going to hit him where it hurts him most…his pride.”

Roque was sitting on his bed when Sebas returned that afternoon. He was still sweaty from his workout in the gym. He’d continued to shower in Roque’s room, but now Roque knew it was because it was just easier to come up to the room and shower together than taking a shower in the locker room then coming upstairs to do the exact same thing, so Roque could shower without getting his cast wet. Sponge baths weren’t exactly practical nor as sexy as they were made out to be.

They’d developed a system that worked for them. If Roque had gotten very good at holding his arm in the air for long periods of time while Sebas gave him a blow job, well that was just its own sort of training.

“What did you do today?” Sebas asked, as Roque rose from his bed.

It wasn’t very common for Roque to sit around waiting for him, but if he hadn’t sat down, he would’ve been pacing. That would have been a very obvious tipoff.

“Not much. Went to the gym with Amaia.”

“Oh yeah? How is that coming along?” Sebas asked even though Roque told him about his time in the gym almost every day after Sebas told him how the team was coming along.

“I’m sick of cardio,” Roque admitted for probably the hundredth time.

“It’s good for your stamina.” Sebas gave him a cheeky smile as he approached Roque and settled himself in his lap.

“I have other things that are good for my stamina that aren’t anywhere near as tedious.” Roque ran his palms over Sebas’ thighs.

“Maybe, but Javier would be upset if I missed training for your cardio…” He cupped Roque’s cheeks, massaging his scalp with his fingertips, and Roque sighed. It felt nice. When he looked in the mirror, he thought he looked like he lived in the woods, but Sebas went nuts over the longer curls and the short beard. Roque probably had the dexterity to shave himself, and he certainly could get someone to trim his hair, but he left it because of Sebas.

“I guess I’ll have to endure the treadmill then,” Roque sighed dramatically.

“If you’re free now, I could probably fit in some cardio…” Sebas suggested playfully, pressing his own cheek to Roque’s to feel the scrape of his beard. He was like a cat rubbing itself against him.

“You stink.”

“You think you don’t?” Sebas retorted, taking a deep breath at Roque’s throat. It sent a shiver down Roque’s spine as Sebas hummed his appreciation. Roque wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to how openly affectionate Sebas was when it was just them. Gone were the days of wishing for scraps from his lovers.

Sebas didn’t stop at Roque’s throat. He pressed soft kisses to his shoulders and wrapped his arms around Roque’s back, holding him tightly.

“Did you hear about Charlie?” Sebas asked, as he got lost tracing the lines of Roque’s back tattoo. He did it often enough that Roque knew immediately what he was doing. The first time he woke to Sebas’ fingertips following some intricate pattern on his skin, he’d been confused until Sebas admitted that he always wanted to touch it. Now, he did it whenever the desire struck.

“Charlie? Something happened to him?” Roque asked innocently. He’d practiced this in the mirror a few times, but he wasn’t sure he was doing a good job of keeping his expression neutral. Thankfully, Sebas wasn’t looking at his face.

“You didn’t hear the shouting?”

“I was in the gym…with Amaia…”

Sebas nodded. “Someone put hair dye in his shampoo bottle. His entire head is bright pink.”

“Oh, that sounds unfortunate.”

Sebas broke out laughing. “What the hell made you do that?”

“Me?”

“Come on, who else?”

“I don’t know. He’s a bit of an asshole, so it could be anyone really.”

Sebas continued to laugh as he pushed Roque back to lie down on the bed, and he laid himself over Roque’s body. “Why now?”

“I didn’t—”

“Zoe already cracked. I know it was your plan, and she and Amaia helped.”

Roque rolled his eyes. Of course, Zoe had been the weak link. Her loyalty was to Sebas after all.

“He’s going to be cleared to return to the team, and he needs to leave you alone. Maybe if someone makes him a little uncomfortable, he won’t go messing with you or anyone else.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles.” Despite his words, there was mischief in Sebas’ eyes. He clearly wasn’t angry with Roque which relieved some of the tension that had been building as he’d waited for Sebas to find out.

“I know, and I know you worry about me. So, I compromised.”

“By having the girls do your dirty work?”

Roque shrugged. “I maintain that I wasn’t involved at all.”

“Of course.” Sebas shook his head, but he was smiling. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Making me laugh.”

Roque smiled and stretched up to press a kiss to his lips. “You know, it’s unfortunate that we leave for the World Cup tomorrow. Probably not much time to get that dye out,” Roque mused.

Sebas laughed harder. “You’re such an asshole. The whole world is going to see that mess…”

“Can’t look worse than the blond. Maybe we did him a favor…”

Sebas shook his head. “What happens when he tells Jana that you were the one responsible?”

Roque shrugged. “I was at the gym.”

“And the cameras?”

“Only a problem if you don’t know who to pay off.”

“All that just for some hair dye.”

“All that so he knows he’s not untouchable.”

Sebas hummed, but Roque knew that he understood. Charlie’s problem was that no one had given him any consequences for his actions, so he felt that he was untouchable. Beating him up wasn’t the answer. Making him understand that he wasn’t nearly as unreachable as he believed was, and pink hair dye the day before they left for the opening round of the World Cup was just as effective as anything else, but entirely more satisfying.

“I tied my shoes myself this morning.” Roque shifted that subject.

“Yeah? You think you deserve a reward?” Sebas laughed.

Roque grinned. “It’s only fair. It was quite impressive. You can ask Amaia.”

“Maybe you can show me instead? I’m sure there is something you could tie up around here…” Sebas gave him a suggestive look.

Roque grinned. Maybe all that struggle to get his laces done wasn’t for nothing. “You know what else I can do?”

Sebas gave him a curious look, and Roque reached up with his injured hand and wrapped his fingers around Sebas’ throat. He gave it a little squeeze and was rewarded with the most beautiful gasp from Sebas. He couldn’t grip him very hard, but it was clearly enough to get Sebas aroused.

“You should show me all the progress you’ve been making,” Sebas suggested, pressing his throat against Roque’s open palm.

Yeah, the struggle was definitely worth it.