#@s6lars: pg6

[s6lars]

key — fluff. angst. smut.

📁 → FICS.

the 4 times he didn't — and the 1 time he did. f ► sequel to the 5 times he knew. a trip to his hometown for the holidays might just be gavi’s golden chance to tell you how he really feels. (wc: 13.2k)

the 5 times he knew. f ► gavi has always considered you his best friend and nothing more — until 5 events proved him wrong. (wc: 6.2k)

reds and yellows. m ► gavi’s temper has gotten the best of him on the pitch and you propose a solution to calm him down. (wc: 4.8k)

📁 → ONE-SHOTS.

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[s6lars]

reds and yellows.

gavi’s temper has gotten the best of him on the pitch and you propose a solution to calm him down. (wc: 4.8k)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. pg6 x reader.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. smut — mdni! established relationship, switch!gavi, little to no plot just filth tbh

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, explicit nsfw content; unprotected sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, oral (m&f), impact play, implied aftercare

𝐀/𝐍. reupload from 888bear. this was initially written towards the end of last season, before the 2nd leg against atletico (and before his injury 💔). probably my last reupload in a while, enjoy!

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you yelled, irritated at the scenes unfolding before you at Camp Nou. The bright yellow card being raised in Gavi’s direction was visible from the stands miles away.

Strings of curse words can be heard as the crowd around you begin to hurl protests toward the referee’s actions. The shared anger of the fans only riles you up further, despite your best attempts at keeping composure.

To take the ball from the opposing team, Gavi slides in front of the player carrying it. His foot makes contact with the man, only grazing it slightly, but the player dramatically falls to the ground, clutching his calf in pain. 

Gavi and the Barca players saw right through the player’s theatrics, yet their arguing failed to stop him from being booked. Again. He had amassed several yellow cards in the previous few months alone, and he’s missed key matches as a result. It was starting to become a habit.

This feat, was easily used against him by his opponents. They would purposely start a dispute with Gavi — be it in the form of a nudge, trash-talking, or straight-up foul play. All they had to do was sit back and wait for him to take the bait, which usually ended in a yellow card, or his performance deteriorating as his anger levels increased.

As much as you loved him and were willing to defend him, you couldn’t deny the truth. Sometimes, Gavi doesn’t know how to keep his anger in check.

You knew something had to be done about it, and the match you watched was the final straw.

About a week later, you two were cuddled in bed at Gavi’s house. He had to leave for a game against Atlético Madrid early the next morning. It had become a tradition for you to stay the night before Gavi had to leave for an away game, especially if you couldn’t tag along.

Your head rested on Gavi’s bare chest while his right arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you snugly against him. The topic of his recent performances comes up in your usual late-night talks, his fingers drawing circles on your back as he speaks.

“Amor, you know I love you forever, right?” you asked, looking up to meet his brown eyes.

“Of course.”

You took a deep breath before you spoke. “People are right. You can get too angry sometimes.”

Gavi throws his head back on the pillow, his eyes now fixated on the ceiling as he huffs in frustration. His free hand ruffles through his loose brown locks. “I know. Trust me, I know.”

You wriggle free from his grip and prop yourself sideways on one elbow, looking down at him with a softened gaze. The criticism (which borders on hate most of the time) that Gavi receives has always been a sensitive topic to you both.

“Everyone around me says that. I’ve been working on it. But, it’s just hard when everyone keeps taunting me about it. Like, sometimes, I’ll just be walking and then some dude elbows me in the back to try to get me riled up. Or, when everyone expects you to play aggressively because that’s all they chalk me up as, apparently,” he rants. 

Your hand travels up his body and lands on his cheek, cupping it gently. Gavi leans into your touch as your thumb rubs the soft skin back and forth, giving him unspoken reassurance.

“And I’m scared for the next game against Atléti. They’re a really strong club and we’ve had our fair share of fights, I guess, in the past. If I get booked, I’ll miss the next match,” Gavi explains.

An idea popped into your head. It was something you’ve been thinking of for the past week, and now it was the perfect opportunity to present it to him.

“How about…” You were now fully sitting up, your hand moving from Gavi’s cheek to his abdomen. “...we make a deal?”

Gavi’s head tilts in confusion. “What deal?”

“If you can go the next match without getting booked, you get a reward.”

“What kind of reward?”

Biting your lip, you throw one leg over Gavi’s thighs, hovering over his frame, your hands now on opposite sides of his head. Your actions take Gavi by surprise, yet his hands instinctively move to grip your waist. You lean your head lower until your lips come in contact with his earlobe, brushing the flesh gently. 

“This kind of reward.”

Your lips hungrily leave a trail of kisses behind his ear, trailing down his neck and latching onto his sweet spot. Gavi groans at the feeling, his head leaning to the side to allow you more access. His hands travel down your body, taking in the feel of your curves before stopping at your ass, gripping the flesh. 

You stop your assault on his neck to prevent any marks from forming, instead resorting to pressing your lips to his. Taking his bottom lip in between your teeth, you pulled away lightly before closing the gap once more. You waste no time swiping your tongue against the flesh, slipping past his lips. Gavi moans into your mouth, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his fingers tangled in your hair as your lips mold against each other.

You pulled away and sat up straight, admiring the state you left Gavi in. His pupils were blown out, his lips were swollen and glossy, and beads of sweat were forming in his ruffled hair. The heat between your thighs grows by the minute as your body screams at you to do something about it.

Placing your palms flat on his chest, you slide lower down his torso until your core eventually comes in contact with his growing bulge. A synced moan erupts from both of you, your bodies desperate to align.

You lift your hips by just a few inches and plant them back down. You repeat this action a few times until you find a steady rhythm, rocking back and forth on Gavi’s crotch. You can feel how painfully hard he is beneath your equally throbbing core. 

“Ah, fuck, amor…” you whine in ecstasy, knowing how much Gavi loves it when you get vocal. “Feels so good.”

Gavi’s breathing becomes rapid as you pick up the pace. His hips buck up to meet your movements, moans and whines spilling out from his throat every second.

“God, don’t stop.” Gavi’s hands find the straps of your pajamas, tugging the string down your shoulder to free your breasts. His hand grips the mound of flesh, squeezing it in his palm, causing you to throw your head back.

Fire coursed through your veins, concentrated on the movement between your thighs. You’re sure the dripping wetness has stained Gavi’s sweats at this point, a testament to your pleasure. A whimper leaves your lips every time your clothed clit rubs against the coarse fabric, the sound echoing within the room.

Your movements become more erratic as your hand reaches up to fix your hair, grinding harder to chase your high. The sight was nothing short of art to Gavi, seeing the mess you’ve made yourself on top of him. Your desperate mewls reaching his ears only egged him on further.

Gavi’s chest is heaving and his eyes struggle to remain open. His moans were growing louder and his head was almost completely thrown back, letting you know he was close to coming undone. 

Gavi feels the flames pooling in his lower abdomen. His hips begin to stutter as he feels his cock pulsating inside his sweatpants, aching to finish. He closes his eyes shut, feeling small beads of sweat form on his temples. 

It was then that you lifted yourself off of him completely, abruptly ending your movements. Gavi’s head snaps up at the sudden loss of contact, totally confused.

You reached over to your side of the bed, turning off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in total darkness. You fix your top and lay down beside him, pulling the covers up.

“It’s getting late. You need to be up early tomorrow,” you said, planting a kiss on Gavi’s cheek and turning away from him.

Your movements happened so quickly that it took several minutes for Gavi to process them. He props himself up on his elbows, breathing heavily as he tries to understand what just happened.

In the dark, right beside him, a mischievous grin crept up on your face. You had left him flustered and painfully hard just moments away from release. To be fair, it was painful for you too, but the thought of your plan commencing made up for it.

Gavi looks down next to him, seeing you bundled underneath the sheets. He knows you’re not waking up to finish what you started. Begrudgingly, he lies under the covers to join you. He only wraps an arm around your shoulders, keeping his lower body as far away from you as possible.

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed. Gavi had left for his travels, the sticky note on his side of the bed telling you so. You couldn’t wait for what could unfold in the coming days.

Gavi sits on the bench in the Metropolitano dressing room, Atlético Madrid’s stadium. He bounces his leg impatiently, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness for the game ahead. He’s on his phone, replying to some final texts of support before he heads to the tunnel.

Among the sea of notifications, he finds yours at the very top.

[19:36] mi vida 💗: good luck baby !!! i love you no matter what 🥰 go out there and kill it !!

Gavi smiles to himself reading your text. You always made sure to cheer him on in whatever way possible before a game, be it via text, Facetime, or being there in person. He was the luckiest person on Earth to have you.

At home, you were sitting on your living room couch, across the TV, patiently waiting for the kick-off to start. 

When Gavi replies to your text, you realize he was still in the dressing rooms. You thought he had already left for the tunnel and wouldn’t respond until after the game. Knowing this, another idea popped into your head. You’ve been getting a lot of them recently.

You tugged your shorts down your legs and tossed them to the floor. There was a body-length mirror right next to the TV, visible from one corner of the sofa. 

Maybe Gavi needed a little more motivation before he played.

[19:38] mi vida 💗: [sent a photo]

When Gavi opened your next notifications, it took everything in him not to spit out his mouthful of Gatorade. 

You were sitting on the couch, wearing Gavi’s home kit. The hem of the shirt was lifted, in between your teeth, partially exposing your bare chest. Your knees were pressed together and folded to the side, displaying the fact you weren’t wearing anything underneath. The sight has Gavi’s eyes bulging out of their sockets, and if it weren’t for Xavi letting the boys know it was time to head out, he would’ve stared at it for hours.

Gavi only had thoughts of you in his head as he walked to the tunnel. He desperately tries to shake them off to focus on the game ahead, and the deal you proposed the day before. To the people around him, Gavi only looked nervous. In reality, he was battling sinful images in his mind. He was yelling at his brain to stop the tent in his shorts from growing further, hoping his face isn’t as red as he thinks it is.

You watched intently from the comfort of your home as the match commenced, signaled by the blow of the whistle. Gavi was in the starting lineup (as usual), and it didn’t take long for the game to get intense.

Gavi dribbles the ball into the box, and the Atléti defenders in front of him attempt to block his moves. As they press him harder, he takes a chance and shoots, but it ends up going wide. Gavi sinks to his knees in frustration, strikes the grass, and walks off. You debate to yourself if that counts as getting aggressive, but decide otherwise as he wasn’t taking it out on a player. 

The risk of getting booked comes when Gavi is dribbling the ball again, making moves toward the enemy goal. Suddenly, a player runs up from behind, pushing him forward, and causing him to tumble toward the ground. Usually, Gavi would get up in an instant, chasing down the player and getting his payback.

Instead, you watched as he stayed sitting on the grass, arms raised in confusion. Gavi’s teammates do the dirty work for him, some confronting the player while others attempted to prevent a fight from happening. In the midst of all this, Gavi stayed away from the commotion, pacing angrily in circles. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at his actions, seeing the drastic contrast to how he regularly acted. The fact that you were the cause only inflated your ego more. Your plan was working.

Through the remainder of the game, you watched as similar events unfold. Another opportunity rose for Gavi to blow up in a rage, only for him to wipe his sweat and catch his breath. His collectedness aided Barca in winning the game, earning them a valuable three points.

Hours later, once the players had cleared the stadium and completed all their necessary press conferences, you received a text from Gavi. It was nearing midnight and you were tucked under the covers, ready to fall asleep.

[23:11] gavisito 🤍: so [23:11] gavisito 🤍: how’d i do

You knew you were in for a hell of a ride when he lands tomorrow morning.

[23:11] you: hmmmmmm [23:11] you: let’s just say [23:11] you: your reward is waiting when you get home <3

The clock ticked to exactly 3 pm when you heard your doorbell ring. You walked from the kitchen into your house entrance, expecting only one person to be behind the door.

The door swings open, revealing your boyfriend. Gavi’s hands are full with his belongings and he’s wearing Barca training wear, indicating that he drove straight to your place after landing in Barcelona. The sight prompts a soft chuckle out of you. You step aside to let him in, the youngster dropping his bags in the hallway.

“Welcome back, mi ganador,” you cooed, coiling your arms around his shoulders and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Gavi grips your waist, holding you close to him, taking in your embrace. Resting your forehead on his, you look up at his glimmering brown eyes. “Congrats on the win. You played well.”

It was a sweet, intimate moment between you two. Somewhere in the air, there was a sense of anticipation — a buildup to something you’d been waiting for since last night.

Gavi’s eyes trail down your figure, taking in the blue-red shirt a few sizes larger than you that hugged your frame. You were still wearing his shirt from watching the game last night. All the thoughts that flood his mind only lead him to recall the few minutes before the match, you in the same outfit, in a much more revealing position. 

Gavi’s fingers toy with the hem of the jersey. “I didn’t get booked.”

“I know.” Your fingers entangle themselves into his hair. “I’m proud of you.”

“Proud enough for a reward?”

Those words were all it took for you to smash your lips against his. It was a full 180 from the kiss prior, laced with hunger and lust, hands reaching for anything to pull the other closer than they already were.

You two stumble into the living room, your lips only parting to discard Gavi’s shirt and joggers, immediately reconnecting in desperation. You alternate between coiling around his neck or placing it on his shoulders, either way, you were the one in control.

The back of Gavi’s knees hit the sofa leg, causing him to fall back on the plush surface. Your palms land flat on either side of his head, hovering over his body. You two pulled away, breathless, lips swollen and the air knocked out of your lungs.

Lifting yourself higher, you tilt your head to question him. “How should I reward you, amor?”

Your right  hand traces the curves and ridges of Gavi’s chest, nails lightly grazing the skin, making him shiver. You follow his happy trail lower down his torso until you land dangerously close to the waistband of his boxers.

“Should we pick up where we left off?” you teased, recollecting two nights ago when you two were in this exact position. Gavi shakes his head, refusing.

You were now sitting on his upper thighs, your left hand moving to cup his cheeks. Your thumb swipes the flesh a few times before tracing the outline of his bottom lip, stopping at the corner of his mouth.

“Use your words, cariño.”

“I want to feel your mouth around me.” 

You step off him completely, tucking the hair behind your ears as Gavi sits up straight on the couch. His hands quickly move to discard his last piece of clothing, leaving him bare before you.

Gavi leans back comfortably against the back of the sofa, extending his arms while you sit next to him. Taking his chin in between your fingers, you slot your mouth over his as your other hand goes to reach his cock, now free from the restraint of his boxers. 

You give him a few pumps, capturing the low grunts escaping Gavi’s mouth with yours. After a few moments, you pull away, leaning down to give his length the attention he desperately craved.

Your lips ghost over his tip, giving it a few kitten licks as Gavi’s hand lands on your back. You push your head down, just barely taking him in your mouth.

“Fuck, don’t tease,” he groans. You look up at him through your eyelashes, expecting more words. 

“Please.”

You finally push your head down, taking him in your mouth fully. With one drawn out moan, Gavi throws his head back on the sofa, eyes shut in pleasure. 

You bob your head up and down his cock at a steady pace, hands stroking what your mouth can’t fit. Gavi reaches to pull the hair away from your face — partly to help you, partly to see his name donned across your back on full display. 

His calloused hands travel lower down your spine, stopping at your ass to grip it. The contact has you moaning, the sound vibrating against his length. 

“God, you feel like heaven,” Gavi praises, his hips bucking up to meet your movements. It takes you some effort to not gag around him. 

Moans begin to spill from Gavi’s mouth at a rapid rate, his chest heaves quicker, and he struggles to stay still. You only pick up the pace, hollowing your cheeks to aid him in chasing his high.

Gavi moans your name over and over, like it’s the only word he knows. Your escapades from a few nights before and the added distance of the away game had made him extra sensitive.

You lift yourself off of him with a pop sound, your hand continuing to stroke him feverently. Gavi’s stares at you with lost eyes, his pupils shaking at the sudden loss of contact. You gently cup his cheek and press your foreheads together, hovering your lips over his.

“Shh, I know, bebé,” you reassured, promising that you wouldn’t leave him completely hanging like last time. You swing a leg over his thighs, straddling him. Gavi’s hands instinctively move to grip your waist, his eyes never wavering from yours. His fucked-out state, despite only being sucked off, has you chuckling under your breath.

With one hand on his cock and the other tugging your underwear to the side, you fully sink onto his length, relishing the way he fills you up. You two moan in unison, the noise erupted borderline pornographic, bouncing off the.

Once your ass was flush against his thighs, your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself. Slowly, agonizingly, you lift yourself off of him completely, Gavi hissing at the sensation. You whine in ecstasy as you grind his tip against your clit before sinking back down onto him in one swift motion. 

You begin to move up and down his length at a steady rhythm. It didn’t take long for you to quicken the pace of your movements, riding his cock mercilessly as Gavi can only sit back and watch.

His lip is caught in between his teeth, biting back moans as his eyelids struggle to remain at the sight of you bouncing on his length. Your hands reach up to his throat, adding the slightest amount of aggression as you press your nose to his, glaring into his eyes.

Your thumb swipes across his bottom lip, gathering the spit and smearing it to his cheek. “Don’t hold back, amor,” you instructed, your voice low and demanding. “Let me hear how good it feels.”

Your words have an immediate effect on the youngster as a filthy, guttural moan is ejected from his throat. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” Gavi whines, his lips trembling.

Gavi’s hands travel up the sides of your torso, dragging the hem of your (or his, you should say) jersey up with him, stopping just below your chest. He groans when he realizes you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

You take the hem in your fingers and move to take it between your teeth, exposing your breasts to his face. Gavi swears he could faint at the sight, blinking rapidly to ensure he wasn’t dreaming. You were recreating the picture you’d sent him yesterday, except you were now in the flesh, connected and full of him. 

Gavi’s tongue darts at your left nipple and you bite down harder at the fabric, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes. His hand goes to grab your right, squeezing and playing with the mound. 

When Gavi rolls the hard nub between his teeth, you release a shriek muffled by the shirt. His lips hover in between the valley of your breasts before moving to do the same with the other. 

You drop the hem from your mouth, letting it fall back down your body. Your head was overwhelmed with the mixed sensation of euphoria and slight pain from riding him, but you can easily forget the latter once you feel Gavi’s hands snake between your thighs to rub circles on your clit.

“Fuck, bebé, I need you taste you, please,” Gavi begs, looking up at you to wait for your response. You can only nod feverishly before pulling away, sitting beside him.

Gavi moves to kneel on the sofa, and before you know it, his hands push you into the cushions, leaving your ass hanging in the air. The feeling of cold air on your sensitive core elicits a sharp inhale from you, morphing into mewls when you feel Gavi’s palm land harshly on your exposed bottom.

“Fuck! Gavi!” you cry out in pleasure. He drags his fingers down the inside of your thighs, feeling your wetness spread before roughly spanking you again. You arch your back further, elbows completely giving up on supporting your weight. 

“So fucking wet.” His fingers rub up and down your folds, spreading the slick around your sopping core. All sense of dominance in you from before had evaporated as you became a writhing, whining mess under him.

“All this for me, yeah?” Gavi taunts. 

“Just — ah — just for you, amor.” You don’t have to look at Gavi to know he has the biggest smirk splattered across his face. 

You feel his cold breath fan your pussy, barely making contact before diving in completely. Gavi lapped at your juices, devouring your core as he stroked his cock with his free hand. A string of incoherent curses and praises tumble from your mouth, getting louder by the second.

All of a sudden, Gavi stops, sitting straight up. With whatever strength you could muster, you turned over your shoulder to look at his actions. His left hand grips your ass, the other roughly stroking his length as he brings the tip closer to where you needed him most.

Gavi rapidly taps the head of his cock, red and throbbing, against your clit. You claw at the material of the couch beneath you — the sound of your needy mewls, the sloppy noises coming from your pussy, and Gavi’s low grunts resonating throughout the room.

With one swift motion, Gavi enters you completely, knocking the air clean out your lungs. Your throat feels dry from the filthy noises it’s been making, only encouraging him further. Gavi gives you no time to adjust, pulling out until he leaves you empty before slamming right back into you. 

“Those Atléti players targeted me for no reason yesterday,” he says — pulling out, then slamming back into you a second time. 

“Pissed me off so bad.” A third time.

Your legs tremble with each move, knees buckling below your weight, but you muster enough strength to look over your shoulder at him, almost chuckling.

“Hmm?” you questioned. “Show me how bad.”

Gavi doesn’t pull out  this time, instead he begins ramming into you at an unforgivable tempo, taking out all his anger on you. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping and repeated moans, probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but you could care less. 

Gavi is drunk on the sight before him. The way your ass bounces against him with every stroke, his name exhibited in bold letters on your back, yourself a squirming, whimpering mess. He could live forever in the moment, taking in the feel of your walls clenching around him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises. “So beautiful beneath me.”

Gavi’s hands collect the stray hair strands spilling onto your back, turning it into a makeshift ponytail. He leans over and you feel his breath tickle his ears. You feel him plant a few soft kisses along your neck, brushing your earlobe occasionally.

“Gavi, fuck, don’t stop.” The new position allows him to reach a deeper angle than before, mercilessly thrusting into your g-spot. Gavi revels in the obscene noises escaping your parted lips, smirking against your skin. 

“I’m close,” you plead, and Gavi can tell from the way your walls clench tighter around his cock. He can’t last for much longer, either.

“Go on, cum for me, amor.” You can only moan in response. “Make a mess all over my cock.”

His words send you into overdrive — tears well in the corner of your eyes, electricity coursing through your body as your vision goes white. Your climax washes over you in waves as you fully collapse on the sofa, your cheek pressing against the material.

Gavi pulls out and flips you onto your back, pumping his length in his hands. It takes you a few moments to come down from your high while he chases his own. Thick ropes of cum ejects from his cock and paints your aching core white, dripping down and spilling onto the sofa.

With your remaining stamina, you collect the juices between your thighs, a mix of your release and his, and pump two fingers inside of yourself, hissing at the overstimulation. 

Gavi’s eyes are glued to your movements, captured in a trance as you touch yourself. You pulled out, taking the digits into your mouth, wiping them clean. 

Your hand grabs the back of his neck, pulling Gavi down to press your mouth over his, allowing him to taste himself. With one final drawn out kiss, you rest your forehead against his, feeling your breathing slow down.

Gavi collapses on top of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Your hand reaches to tangle itself in his ruffled hair, scratching his head. You can hear him sigh in content as you wrap your other arm around him, pulling him in closer.

“That was…” Gavi breathes out.

“…fucking amazing,” you finish the sentence, eliciting a soft chuckle out of him.

“You should reward me more often.”

“I will if you get booked less often.”

“I’m making a conscious effort.”

You press your nose on his scalp, planting a soft kiss on his head. “I know, bebé. When’s your next match?”

Gavi’s head turns to look up at you. “In two weeks. We have a day off tomorrow, then it’s back to training.”

“Good. Because I don’t think I can walk, and I need someone to help me get around.” A smile slowly works its way onto Gavi’s face. 

He wriggles free from your grip, standing from the couch. Taking you into his arms, he picks you up bridal style and carries you into the bedroom for some much needed rest. 

[s6lars]

the 4 times he didn’t – and the 1 time he did.

a sequel to the 5 times he knew.

a trip to his hometown for the holidays might just be gavi’s golden chance to tell you how he really feels. (wc: 13.2k)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. pg6 x reader.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. fluff, some angsty bits and mildly suggestive in the end. more idiots in love, mutual pining, childhood best friends to lovers!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, drinking, suggestive at times

𝐀/𝐍. reupload from 888bear. part two to t5thk, i'll always remember the staying up until 3 am to crunch this one out in time. happy reading!

NOVEMBER 19 —  PROLOGUE

[13:09] you: are you coming back home with aurora?

Gavi stares intently at the message illuminating his phone screen. When he planned a trip home to Sevilla for the holidays, the reality that you were also in the city never crossed his mind once. 

[13:10] gavi: why? you miss me that badly?

He punches the letters into his keyboard before pressing send. The tone of his message is playful and frisky, all done to keep his distance and your friendship intact. 

Gavi will never forget the day he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, water trickling down his face. The day he faced his emotions head-on, the day he told himself that by tomorrow, you would be his. He had planned it all out — the bouquet of roses and the reservation for a seat at Barcelona’s most luxurious restaurant had been sitting in his possession for a week, waiting to be presented at the right moment.

He asked you over the phone that night if you were down to have dinner the next day. It was a phase in his plan that he wasn’t scared of at all, as you always agreed to all of his plans.

So, you can imagine the shock when you told him, “Gav, I’m going back to Sevilla tomorrow. Didn’t I tell you the other day?” Brutal.

For the only time in his life, Gavi hated being a footballer. He hated being stationed in a city unable to leave for months. Sure, he could’ve confessed his feelings over the phone or in a text, but really? He couldn’t think of a cornier, less romantic way to start a relationship with someone.

It seemed like every time he tried to make a move, something new blocked his path. Gavi wasn’t a superstitious person, but over time he took it as a sign from the universe that he should probably slow down. I mean, he doesn’t even know if the feeling was mutual. You two still kept in touch despite the distance, and he did his best to repress the desires in his heart through it all.

Maybe, a little too well that he had completely forgotten you existed when he announced to his family and friends that he would return to his hometown exactly a month from now.

It would mark three months since you last saw each other in person. The last time you were apart for long, it was for three weeks. He still remembers the burning feeling when he hugged you after coming home from the States, bringing him to the realization that he wanted nothing more than to be yours.

[13:11] you: who wouldn’t miss the nicest sweetest most attractive paez family member

[13:11] you: talking about aurora, ofc

Gavi smiles to himself at your words, blushing like crazy. God, even pixels on a screen could get him this riled up as long as it was your doing.

He had mixed feelings about the trip. On one hand, Gavi missed you so, so much — on the other, he’s terrified that he’ll fall to his knees and break into dramatic speech upon seeing you. 

Just how long can he go before he comes clean?

DECEMBER 19 — STUDY BUDDY 

When Gavi arrived in his hometown, he was welcomed by his family, friends, and the crowd of strangers that had gathered in front of the restaurant he was eating lunch at. He was arguably one of the biggest stars to emerge from the area, and people were eagerly anticipating his return.

As soon as he unpacked his bags at his parent’s house, Gavi was met with numerous invitations from people he hadn’t seen in years. Lunch here, dinner there, can you stop by my nephew’s football practice? He was here to rest and spend time with his loved ones, not embark on an impromptu press tour. 

His first stop was a big lunch, attended by his family, cousins, and childhood friends. The twenty or so people were gathered in a local restaurant owned by Gavi’s uncle. He enjoyed catching up with everyone, but a quick scan around the table informed him that you weren’t there. 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked around.

“Oh, she’s studying for some exam, I think,” one of his friends replied. He was upset with the answer. He’s been dying to see you for weeks, and you prioritized some stupid test over him?

Gavi pulls out his phone and sends you a message.

[12:33] gavi: how dare you leave me to study

[12:33] you: some of us actually went to uni, high school dropout [12:34] gavi: I FINISHED SCHOOL I DID NOT DROP OUT

[12:34] you: at SIXTEEN. be serious

[12:34] gavi: i finished early to play football for the best club in the world.

[12:34] you: cool story, still a dropout

[12:34] gavi: not a dropout

Gavi can’t stop himself from smiling alone like an idiot.

[12:34] gavi: you’re telling me you cant even spare 5 mins for me 🥺

[12:35] you: ew dont ever use that emoji again

[12:35] gavi: can i come over at least [12:35] you: only if you bring food

[12:35] gavi: deal

Once everyone had enough food in their stomachs, people started leaving one by one. It was time for everyone to go home. After exchanging goodbyes with the party, Gavi checked the clock: 2 pm. He hoped you were still hungry for the food he promised. One quick taxi ride later, he was knocking on your front door. 

Gavi can hear the soft patter of your footsteps behind the door before it swings open, revealing your face beaming back at him. His heart skips a beat at the sight.

“Hey delivery guy,” you tease, your tongue in your cheek, “it took an hour and a half for my food to come? I’m leaving a bad review.” Gavi playfully pouts at your words, his head sinking as you start to burst into laughter.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” You said in between giggles, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into an embrace. He coils his arms around your waist, his face instinctively burying into the crook of your neck. The familiar scent of your perfume fills his senses and he feels himself falling head over heels for you again.

You pull away from the boy and he hands you the bag of food in his hands. Gavi hopes his face isn’t as red as he thinks it is.

“Get in. We have a lot of catching up to do.” You move away from the door to let him in, leading him into your living room.

“We could’ve caught up if you were there. At lunch.” You roll your eyes at him and sit on the couch, a mountain of notes and open textbooks before you. Gavi’s jaw drops at the sight.

“Oh, come on! You’re still studying?” You tilt your head in confusion.

“How do you think I get straight A’s, Gavira?” The youngster plops down on the opposite end of the couch, extending his legs on the cushions.

“Cheating. Pure luck. Bribery. You hire a genius doppelgänger to sit in for you at every exam.”

“Very funny,” you responded sarcastically.

You take the container of food from the plastic bag and set it on your lap. Opening the lid, you were met with the sight of one of your favorite dishes. Gavi watches the way your eyes light up, your tongue darting to lick your lips.

“So you invite me over to get free food and to sit and watch you study?” Taking a bite of the meal, you turn to look at him, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah. Basically.” You placed the container on the table across from you. “It’s the least you can do to help.”

Gavi sees you pick up a stack of flashcards and start flipping through them. Your lips mutter something under your breath every once in a while, inaudible to him. You were deep in focus, working to remember the terms you had written down. That’s when an idea pops into his head.

Reaching over the length of the couch, he yanks the papers from your grip. You looked at him stunned, jaw hanging in the air. “Hey!”

“I know another way I can be helpful.” He leans back on the couch arm and you crawl towards him.

“Give them back!” you exclaimed, attempting to pry them back from him. Maybe you forgot that he was a professional athlete because he quickly overpowers you, laughing at your efforts. 

You don’t back down. Your mother didn’t raise a quitter. Instead, you push even further, your arms gripping Gavi’s wrists as he twists and turns away from you. Both of you burst into a fit of laughter, trying but ultimately failing to form any coherent sentences. Not long after, you two had to pause to collect your breaths, your abdomens sore from laughing.

It was then that you realized your current state — you were sat on Gavi’s lap, straddling his thighs with your hands interlocked, your faces inches apart. Silence falls in the room as you gazed into each other’s eyes.

You pulled away from him, flustered, flicking hair out of your face. “Give me back my flashcards.”

“Just let me help you,” Gavi’s voice turns soft as he speaks. You couldn’t say no to that. 

You mimic his posture, leaning opposite him and extending your legs, folding your arms against your chest. Gavi flips through the flashcards and lands on one. He pauses to read it before speaking up.

“Enterprise zones.”

“Specific geographic areas to which governments try to attract private business investment by offering lower taxes and other governmental support,” you stated. Gavi raises his eyebrows and nods, astonished. You didn’t stutter once. 

“That is… correct.” You smirk, proud of your knowledge. He flips through the deck and lands on another card.

“Venture capitalists.”

“Individuals that invest in new businesses in exchange for partial ownership of those businesses.”

“Individuals or companies,” Gavi corrects you.

“Doesn’t matter. Same thing.”

“Nuh-uh!” Gavi lifts his hand to silence you. “If it’s not exactly the same, you’re wrong.”

“You didn’t even write the flashcards!” you protested.

“I thought you wanted straight A’s,” he taunts. You sink back into your seat as he begins flipping through the deck again.

“Microeconomics versus macroeconomics.”

“Microeconomics focuses on the actions of individual agents such as consumers, householders, works, and businesses, regarding the allocation of scarce resources within an economy.”

“Right. And macroeconomics?” Gavi tilts his head low, his brown eyes piercing into yours. The sudden eye contact stops any train of thought in your brain, leaving you speechless. You attempt to form an answer but come up short. 

“Macroeconomics…” you trailed off, buying time for yourself. “...focuses on…” Gavi lifts one of his eyebrows, waiting for you to finish. His gaze lingers as you chew on your bottom lip in thought.

“Come on,” he encourages. You dug deep in your memory. This was basic stuff, how could you not know the answer? And why were you so rattled making eye contact with your best friend?

You took a deep breath, covering your eyes with your right hand. You just needed to focus. “Focuses on… broad issues… such as the unemployment level, GDP, inflation, interest rates, government deficits, and…” you attempt to finish the sentence, desperately trying to get Gavi’s face out of your brain. “...monetary policy, and fiscal policy.”

You lift your head to check Gavi’s reaction. You’re sure you got that right.

“That’s right. Good girl.”

If you weren’t sitting down, you’re sure your knees would’ve buckled at his words.

Disappointed with your knowledge, you diverted your attention back to the flashcards, memorizing the terms from the beginning. Gavi assured you that you were fine (before persuading you to play Mario Party), but you were a perfectionist. The fact that he successfully distracted you earlier only motivated you more.

As you sat examining the cards, Gavi opted to scroll through his phone. Eventually, he got bored of his Instagram feed and turned it off to look up at you.

He admired the details on your face, the way your brows furrowed in focus, your head tilting as you rested your face on your palm. He catches you scrunching your nose now and again, and the way a sigh leaves your lungs as you switch between cards.  

Gavi’s eyes trail down your body. The burgundy t-shirt wrapped around your figure was a little too big for your frame, and it hangs right above the waistband of your shorts. Every time you readjust your position, he gets a glimpse of your abdomen, and he swallows at the sight.

“Is something wrong?” Your voice interrupts Gavi’s little daydreaming session. His eyes widen in shock. Fuck, he thought to himself. Did you catch him checking you out?

“Hmm?”

“Do I have something on my top?” You looked down at the material, scanning it for any stains.

“No,” he responds. 

“So what is it?” You questioned. Gavi takes a moment before responding.

“Nothing.”

The words sit on the tip of his tongue, seconds away from being spoken. He looks back down at his phone, preventing himself from doing so.

DECEMBER 23 — LATE NIGHT TALKING

The muffled jazz music from the bar is all that can be heard as Gavi leans against a brick wall. He stares blankly into the distance, feeling the cool nighttime breeze fanning his face. The silence was a comforting contrast to the bustling scene indoors. 

To millions of people around the world, Gavi was a passionate (and borderline aggressive) ball of fire that blazed through the pitch, a player who was willing to go toe-to-toe against men taller, stronger, and older than him for the sake of his team. Though they weren’t wrong, Gavi off the pitch was a very different person. It was evident in the way he frequently excused himself in the middle of gatherings this past week, seeking time alone.

Suddenly, he heard shoes clicking against the cobblestones and quickly pulled his hood over his head, preparing to leave. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice calling out to him that he stops dead in his tracks.

“Gavi?” Who else, if not you?

He turns around and sees you step closer to him. The street lights illuminate the surroundings just enough for him to barely make out your figure.

“What are you doing out here?” you asked. 

“I could say the same about you. Why aren’t you inside with everyone else?”

After you had bailed on the planned lunch several days ago, Gavi made sure that you were present at the next gathering — reserved only for his childhood friends at a local bar. He went as far as calling you every five minutes for a whole hour before you left. You contemplated blocking his number.

You scratched the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze. “Some dude tried to flirt with me. Got pissed when I said no. It got really messy.” Gavi’s face twisted in anger at your words.

“What?!” He was about to march back to the bar, ready to confront the man. You grabbed him by his arms, preventing him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Please,” you pleaded. “The other boys took care of it. Please don’t, I really don’t want it to get even messier.” Gavi would do anything for you if you asked. And when you’re in a vulnerable state like this, he doesn’t dare to go against your warnings.

“Are you okay?” The boy’s hands land on your shoulders and you nod in response. 

“Are you actually?” He always knew when you weren’t telling the truth. 

You sighed, looking in the direction of the bar. The boys were probably still going at it, cussing out the man in your defense. You remembered his foul words being hurled at you, his disgusting actions in your way as you repeatedly refused. The thought was vomit-inducing.

“I don’t want to go back inside.” 

“We don’t have to.” We. It was his way of telling you that he would go wherever you wanted him to.

“But I’m not ready to go home either.” You turned back to Gavi and he slips his hands in his pockets. For a moment, you two stand in silence, staring into each other’s eyes.

Gavi inhales sharply, his face lighting up. The expression was familiar — he had an idea.

“I know a place.” “A place?”

“It’s not home. It’s not here.”

“How do I know you’re not gonna throw me off a cliff?” He smirks at your teasing. You always make room for snarky comments, no matter the scenario.

He extends his arm out to you, waiting for you to take his hand in yours. “Do you trust me?”

You don’t even have to think twice about the answer.

Wrapping your hand around his, Gavi’s signature smirk appears on his face as he tugs you towards him. Hand in hand, you two stroll through the streets of Sevilla, laughing at each other’s antics for the world to see. The streets were empty as it was well past midnight, providing a perfect opportunity for you and Gavi to chase each other down the alleyways, giggling like little kids.

You didn’t even notice that you arrived at his planned destination until he spoke up. “This is the place.”

At first, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings due to the lack of light. You were squinting your eyes, looking in every direction to find this ‘place’ he kept referencing.

You hear Gavi release a chuckle, barely audible. When he grips your arms and slowly pushes you forward, you jolt at the sudden action, involuntarily holding on to his wrists for support. You take a few steps forward, and it’s when the city scenery comes into view that you realize why he brought you here in the first place.

“See? I told you I know a place.”

When you two were just ten, Gavi challenged you to a game of two-touch, eager to show off his skills. Toward the end of the game, you miserably failed to control the ball, instead kicking it far away and smashing it into the window of a bodega. You could hear the bickering of the owner from inside, and as you prepared to be scolded for hours on end, Gavi grabbed your arm and started running in a random direction. He continued to run as if his life depended on it, leading you to god knows where, laughing every step of the way. Eventually, he stops at a patch of grass to collect his breath. You two collapse on the land, lying in the shade underneath a tree. It was one of your fondest memories with Gavi.

The tree stands tall eight years later — except, the two little kids that once rested below it were all grown up. 

You gazed out at the city skyline from above, taking in the fresh air. It was exactly what you needed to make you feel better.

A rustling noise to your left catches your attention, and you see Gavi had sat down on the patch of grass, making himself comfortable. He pats the space next to him, inviting you to do the same. You join him on the ground, bringing your knees to your chest,

Suddenly, a chilling gust of wind blows over the area, causing shivers to run up and down your spine. You hug yourself to generate some warmth, regretting wearing a short-sleeved crop top knowing how cold Sevilla could get at night.

Gavi notices your actions, and without a second thought removes his zip-up jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. You sigh in relief as the warm fabric engulfs your bare arms.

“Thanks,” you breathe out. 

“No catching colds while I’m here,” the boy replies.

You look at the youngster and realize he only has a t-shirt underneath. He couldn’t be any warmer than you were at the moment.

“Gavi, you’re going to catch a cold.”

“I’m built different.” He shrugs, and you clicked your tongue at his response.

“I’m being serious!”

“Don’t worry about me.” He hopes that deep down, you know that he was willing to risk everything for you, only you.

You wrap the article of clothing tighter around your frame, never wanting to take it off.

“When are you going back to Barcelona, by the way?” The sudden question causes Gavi’s head to snap in your direction. He had been enjoying the comfortable silence between you two.

“Uhm, the day after New Year’s.”

You pouted at the response. You wanted him to stay for longer.

“Why can’t you stay for longer?” It was at this point when Gavi usually retorted back playfully, but when you spoke in that voice that made him weak in the knees, enveloped in his jacket, he didn’t want to spoil the moment.

“You know why.”

Gone were the days when Gavi was a young kid, happily telling his neighbors he played for Barca every chance he got. No longer could he join his family for their yearly vacations, he couldn’t even see them when he missed them most. This was his life now — a professional athlete, the weight of a million expectations on his shoulders as he represents the club he grew up with and the country he was born in. 

“I still can’t believe you’re, like, actually a football player now. No more funny business.”

“You’re only now realizing that? Really? Multiple victories, a World Cup appearance… it never occurred to you then?”

“Mmm…” you pondered for a moment. “Nope.”

“I’m heartbroken. How could you do this to me?” Gavi fakes crying as you giggle at his antics, nudging him by the shoulder.

In the dark of the night, Gavi can see your face suddenly drop. Something was bothering you.

“Y/N?” It takes you a few seconds before you can speak.

“Do you ever feel scared of growing up, Gav?” The air had shifted around you two. “Like, mentally you feel like you’re still a kid, but all of a sudden you have to worry about bills, and rent, and exams, and just, ugh.” 

You drop your head, resting your chin on your knees. The thought had consumed you for months at this point.

“Like, I see you, and you’re out here doing all these things, making our country and city proud, and then I look at myself and just think, damn, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing with my life.” 

Gavi scoots closer, your sides now touching. His skin yearns, burns at the contact.

“Who says everything’s been going well for me? I don’t kick a ball into a net and now millions of people say I should be sold, or I’m a scam, or I don’t deserve my spot on the team. Sometimes I look at my friends that are still in La Masia and think they deserved to be called up instead.”

You lean your face closer to him. “Don’t say that. You deserve everything you worked for.”

“I wish you could feel that way about yourself.” 

“I… don’t know if I can.” 

“Well then, I wish you know that I feel that way about you.” Gavi’s words pierce through your cold exterior, landing straight in your heart. 

You hide your face in your knees, feeling your face getting hotter by the second. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Gavi’s heart rapidly thundered in his chest. This was it.

You two were sharing a moment, you were alone, and the ambiance was perfect. The stars had quite literally aligned and led him to this moment. It was time to release the words suffocating his chest every time he saw you, to finish what started back in Barcelona.

“Y/N, can I tell you something?” You lifted your head and turned to him.

“Anything.”

Gavi opens his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. 

Sign from the universe. If you weren’t around, he would’ve let out the loudest, most blood-curdling scream Spain had ever heard.

He hastily retrieved the device, unable to hide the sneer on his face. Whoever calling him must’ve been on the verge of death if they had to interrupt this critical moment. 

It was his sister. Gavi accepts the call, lifting his phone to his ear. “Hey.”

You can barely hear Aurora’s words through the speakers but deduced that she was asking about Gavi’s whereabouts, and by extension, yours. She was probably telling him to go home soon, and for good reason — it had to be at least 3 am at that point.

After muttering a quick goodbye, Gavi shoves his phone into his pocket at stands up. It was time for you two to leave. He extends his arm to help you get up, and you accept the gesture.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” You turn to part ways but was met with Gavi gripping your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

He looks at you, confused. “Whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

You stare back at him, unblinking. “Home?”

“You are not walking home alone at this hour. I’m walking you there.” Always so considerate of him. 

The walk to your house was less eventful than the walk earlier. You two were completely silent the whole way through. But it wasn’t the kind of silence that drove people crazy. Rather, unbeknownst to each other, you two were fighting with the most severe case of butterflies in your stomach, desperately trying to hide it.

Not long after, you arrived on your front steps. You were just about to bid your goodbyes when you remember the jacket still around your shoulders from earlier.

“Oh yeah, thanks for the jacket again,” you said as you removed it from your body. Seconds before you could hand it back, he pushes the bundle of clothing back to you.

“Keep it.” The words don’t help with the warm feeling bubbling in your abdomen.

“Thanks. I’ll take good care of it.” You pulled him into a hug before quickly pulling away, a blushing mess. You thank whoever decided to leave the area surrounding your house devoid of any light sources.

Before you were about to open your front door, you remembered the end of your conversation with Gavi. You turned around to see him kicking pebbles on the pavement.

“Hey, you said you wanted to tell me something earlier.” Gavi’s heart drops.

“Uh… don’t worry about it.” You tilt your head in confusion. There was something he was keeping from you. But then again, you were keeping things from him too.

“Alright then. Goodnight, Gav. Stay safe on the way home.” You can make out the faint silhouette of the boy giving you a thumbs-up before walking away.

You entered your house exhausted from the bar and your feet sore from the walk. When you made your way to your bedroom, you didn’t have the energy to change out of your clothes or remove your makeup. Instead, you simply tossed your shoes aside and collapsed onto the bed.

Feeling your eyelids flutter shut, you buried your face deeper into Gavi’s jacket, seeking some kind of warmth. The scent of his body fragrance floods your senses, as you fall into a deep slumber, dreaming about him through the night.

DECEMBER 27 — FOR TWO

Christmas was usually one of the busiest days of the year, but to Gavi, it was the few days following it that were worse.

The holidays were one of the rare (and possibly only) times everyone wasn’t burdened with work, uni, or other doings, so it had become a yearly ritual for his group of friends to venture on a getaway, even if it was just for a few days.

While the group had gone far to other cities or even other countries, this year they had opted to stay in the city, renting an Airbnb to hang out in. It might not be anything crazy, but Gavi always knew how to have fun as long as his friends were with him.

The Airbnb you rented boasted an impressive six bedrooms, complete with a pool and a yard. It was perfect for the six of you that would be present, providing you with enough facilities to keep you entertained for the next two nights.

The plan was for the group to drive to the house together, maybe spending some time in downtown Sevilla beforehand. The car had been rented and suitcases were packed, but the night before the trip you had to break some bad news to your friends.

[21:41] you: bad news guys

[21:41] you: i have to be on campus tmr morning

[21:42] ale: oh come on

[21:42] ale: you're telling us NOW

[21:42] you: ITS NOT LIKE I WANT TO BE THERE?

A paper you thought was due weeks from now was actually due in about 12 hours, and after trying your hardest to finish it in a few hours, you quickly realized how much you underestimated the weight of the assignment.

You could get the job done by around midnight, but you needed to get it printed and bound. It meant that you couldn’t use your home printer, and you would have to go to the campus printing lab which opened at 10 am. This did not flow well with the original plan of leaving with your friends two hours before, at 8 am. You tried your hardest to explain the situation to your friends, only to be met with their complaints.

[21:47] lu: cant you get someone else to print it?

[21:47] you: no u need to sign shit when you turn it in

[21:47] mateo: boooooooooooo

[21:47] you: ill just go by myself after i turn it in it’ll be fine

[21:48] lu: literally how. you cant go yourself and you know that

Lucia was right. The rented house was at least an hour's drive from your place, and you didn’t have a car to use. You can rule out ordering an Uber or a taxi as the price would go through the roof. Moreover, you were carrying a suitcase with you, so it was impossible to get there by public transport.

[21:49] you: fuck youre right

[21:50] lu: anyone wanna take one for the team and stay behind w y/n?

[21:50] lu: anyone w a car probably

[21:50] lu: oi losers [tagged alvaro, gavi, ale]

[21:51] mateo: alvaro is probably drunk out of his mind rn LMAO

[21:52] gavi: why did i get tagged

[21:52] lu: can you take y/n to the airbnb tomorrow?

Gavi. Since your little deep talk a few days ago, you hadn’t seen him in person again. When you woke up the morning after, you felt embarrassed, ashamed even of the emotions you felt the night before. It felt wrong to think about someone you had known for your whole life in that way. It was also incredibly stupid, given the level of fame Gavi was at, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a supermodel girlfriend he had hidden from everyone.

The good news was, in the four days that you weren’t together, you were able to sit down and process your thoughts. The butterflies had flown away after 48 hours, so you sat with the decision that it was just a small phase, nothing more. Thankfully, it was nothing more.

But now, with the possibility of meeting him again, a feeling brewed in your gut that something might happen between you both, despite your efforts to prevent it. You prayed that Gavi would tell Lucia he couldn’t make it, or perhaps Ale would be the one swooping in to help. But no one ever gets what they want in life, do they?

[21:55] gavi: yea sure

Damn it. So much for keeping your feelings in check.

You texted him privately afterward, coming to an agreement that he would pick you up from your house, take you to campus for you to turn in your assignment, and then drive to the Airbnb. It was fast, efficient, and ensured that neither of you would be making back-to-back trips. 

What the journey ahead would behold was something future you would have to worry about. Right now, current you needed to finish the rest of the paper and get in as much sleep as you could squeeze in.

Gavi arrived to pick you up at 10.45 the next morning. He helped you haul your suitcase into his car trunk, asking if you had brought your entire closet with how heavy it was. It was more surprising when you learned he only packed a gym bag’s worth of clothes for the trip.

“We’re gonna be stuck indoors for three days and you’re calling me crazy when you brought a whole ass suitcase?” The comment earned a slap on the shoulder from you.

After a quick 15-minute drive, you arrived on campus. Gavi dropped you off at the main lobby before leaving to find a place to park. He sends you off, telling you to text him when you’re finished.

The printing lab was empty when you stepped in, and it wasn’t far from the lecture hall where you needed to turn your paper in. The whole ordeal was done and dusted in half an hour, leaving you and Gavi plenty of time to catch up with your friends. You hope you two wouldn’t miss out on much. 

[11:36] you: im done

[11:36] you: walking to the main lobby rn

[11:38] angry bird 🦜: kk give me a minute

It took Gavi a few minutes before he pulled up to the lobby. At first, you assumed he parked quite far, which is why the journey took a while. However, it wasn’t when the car door opened and the smell of fast food wafted in your face that you discovered the truth.

“You got Mcdonald's? Seriously?” You sat in the passenger’s seat, shutting the door before you as you looked at Gavi, one hand on the steering wheel and a pack of fries in the other.

“It’s gonna be a long trip, so I thought we should get something to eat.” Gavi waits for you to put on the seatbelt before driving off.

“Oh yeah? How long?”

“An hour and 20 minutes.” You dug through the Mcdonald’s bag on the car floor, sifting through the brown paper bags for something to eat.

“You know what I always get at Mcdonald’s?” you proposed the question to him, striking up a conversation.

“Yeah. You get a quarter pounder with no mustard, extra pickles, potato wedges, and a coke,” he responds without missing a beat. You didn’t expect him to actually know. Once he stops speaking, your hands find a brown bag with the exact order inside. He had memorized your order and bought it for you. 

“...That’s exactly what I always get.” You pulled back the wrapper from the burger and took a bite. There’s that funny feeling again. You shake it off, sipping your coke.

The rest of the car trip involved singing Anuel AA and Myke Towers at the top of your lungs, you gossiping about your new friends at uni, and a long debate about whether or not Avatar was overrated. You’re lucky Gavi was a very different man off the pitch, as the heated conversation could’ve gone sideways very quickly.

The piece of food that sat on your lap went untouched for a long time — you were getting full. Looking at the boy in the driver’s seat, you wondered if Gavi wanted your leftovers. He usually did, anyway.

“Finish my burger for me?” You raised the small piece left, offering it to him.

He glances at you before looking back at the road. “I’m driving.”

“And?” You pushed it closer to his mouth, attempting to feed him yourself. Gavi nudges his shoulders to push you away, causing you to laugh at his antics.

“Y/N! Stop!” he reasons, but it doesn’t stop you.

“Say ahh!” After a few moments back and forth, Gavi gives in. He opens his mouth, letting you feed him like a child. You know he hated being treated like a baby, yet you couldn’t help but laugh when he pouts as he chews. He looked adorable doing it.

Wait a minute, adorable? No, you couldn’t say that about him. God, you needed to get it together.

One long drive later, he pulls up to the Airbnb. The house comes into view and you realize it looks bigger in person. The pictures didn’t do it any justice. You absolutely couldn’t wait for the next few days. Gavi parked the car in the driveway and you two finally step foot in the lavish house.

Alvaro, your mutual friend, greets you in the living room. The space was open with floor-to-ceiling windows, letting warm sunlight enter inside. There was a cluster of sofas in the center, facing a wide-screen TV set atop a fireplace. He had a drink in his hand, dressed in shorts.

“Took you bitches long enough,” he teased. “We couldn’t wait so we dived in the pool before you guys, sorry.” The sun had reached its peak at this time of day, and you were eager to dip in the cool waters.

“Find the empty bedroom upstairs, you guys can put your things there,” he continues. As you and Gavi made your way up the first few flights of stairs, Alvaro called out to you two.

“Oh yeah, wait!” You two turned around to face him in unison.

“The owner told us one of the bedrooms is off-limits because a pipe leaked, or something. And everyone already tagged a room, so…” Alvaro presses his palms together, and the look on his face lets you know what he was implying.

You had to share a room with Gavi.

“Uh…” Both of you could only glance at each other for a few moments at a time, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

Gavi looked down at the boy below. “Is there, I don’t know, an extra bed?” 

“Oh yeah, maybe? I don’t know. I’ll text the owner. For now, just put your bags there first.” Alvaro leaves the living room to go outside. You head up the stairs and find the remaining bedroom, opening your suitcase.

It’s fine, Alvaro will text the owner and you’ll get an extra bed. Everything will be alright, you thought to yourself as you changed into your bathing suit in the bathroom. You push the thought out of your head, leaving to join your friends at the pool. 

You can’t remember the last time you felt this happy. The weight of school and life, in general, had burdened you for far too long, and now you had fully let loose. You and your friends had stayed in swimwear the whole day, switching between grilling food, playing video games on the TV, chasing each other around the property with water guns, and jumping off the second-floor balcony into the pool. 

Before you knew it, the sun had set, and the sky turned a bleeding color. The time had passed by like nothing, it always did every time you were around these guys. The ability they had to turn your worst days around, to erase every negative thought in your brain solely with their presence was exactly what you needed after a hectic past few months.

The night quickly turned cold and your friends were getting ready for bed. Seeing everyone starting to enter their room, you catch Alvaro in the kitchen and ask him for any updates on the bed situation. 

“Varo, did the owner say anything about the bed?”

“Oh… uhm.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking his messages. “Nothing. Didn’t even read it.”

You turned to look at the clock, it was midnight. The owner, whoever they were, was probably fast asleep at this point. Moreover, you were scared of coming across as pushy if you were to question them further. This was their property, anyway.

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.” 

It had been ten minutes since that conversation and now you were in the bedroom with Gavi. Fresh out of the shower, you were towel drying your hair as you sat cross-legged on the bed, while the boy opted to fumble around with his gym bag. There was clear tension in the room, and it materialized as an invisible brick wall wedged between you two. Neither of you had uttered a single word since entering the room.

Suddenly, Gavi gets up, grabbing a pillow from the bed. He marches to the door with it in hand, and just as his hands land on the doorknob you finally say something to him.

“Where are you going?” “Downstairs. I’ll sleep on the couch if there’s no extra bed.” The living room, as beautiful as it was during the day, was cold and bleak at night. It was probably still wet from the water gun fights from earlier, adding to the freezing temperature. You couldn’t let him sleep there.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch. It’s freezing,” you retaliated. “Well, if it means both of us can sleep alone, then I’ll do it. It’s only for one night, anyway.”

“I won’t let you.” You stood up from the bed and pushed him away from the door, locking it in the process. Gavi looks at your actions, stunned.

“Where am I supposed to sleep then?”

“On the bed.”

“And you?”

“I’ll manage on the floor,” you proposed.

“Absolutely not!”

“Why!? You wanted to sleep on the couch.” You two started bickering nonsensically, hoping your friends were deep in slumber.

“The couch and the floor are two very different things, genius.” “Fine, we’ll both take the bed! Happy?!” You froze at your words, instantly regretting even arguing with Gavi in the first place. You did not just offer the man you were having an internal battle about your feelings with to share a bed. To make things even worse, Gavi agreed.

You always thought this one-bed thing only happens in cheesy romcoms, yet here you were building a mountain of pillows in the middle of the bed to prevent your unconscious minds from moving you two closer. Gavi props himself up on his elbows, watching you intently.

“Do you have to do this?” he questions. You plop down on the bed, laying next to him. Or, the pillow mountain, you should say.

“I’ve watched enough movies to know what would happen if I don’t.”

“What? It’s not like we’ve never cuddled before.” Your head snaps in his direction, remembering the time when you woke up on his sofa together, bodies tangled.

“Hey, that was not my doing.” You hear Gavi mutter something under his breath before he moves the pillows out of the way. His face comes into view and you’re shocked to see just how small the distance was between you two. Nevertheless, you didn’t move away. You could get used to the view.

He rests his head on his hand, lying sideways to look at you. “You literally told me to stay when I tried to get up.”

“Only because you,...” your finger landed on his nose, and it scrunches at the contact. “...told me to stay the night before.”

Gavi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “No, I didn’t.”

“Are you seriously doubting my memory?”

“Yeah, actually.” You pushed him backward, causing him to lie flat on his back. Meanwhile, you prop yourself on your shoulders, flipping over on your belly.

“The night before that, you pulled me by the arm on top of you and asked me to stay.”

“And you didn’t refuse?”

“Not like you did either.” You had a point. Gavi’s eyes drift to the ceiling above him, placing his arms behind his head.

“Well, you asked me to stay. Did you not… want me to?” You couldn’t fathom a life without him.

“I always want you to be with me.”

Gavi could feel his heart rapidly thundering in his ribcage at your words. As he examines your face in the warm light of the room, all he can focus on is the twinkling in your pupils as you look down at him, and how much love floods his heart at the sight. Never breaking eye contact, you lie your cheek flat against the pillow.

So little, yet so much was spoken. There was a lingering feeling in the air that the two of you were restraining yourselves from saying or doing something, something that has been brewing for months. You two sat in silence, breathing in unison, twitching every so often as if to move, stopping midair before you could follow through. When Gavi finally builds up the courage to speak, the words he sounded weren’t the ones he expected.

“It’s getting late.” He reaches over you to turn off the nightstand on your side of the bed. As he lifts himself and extends his arm, his chest brushes against your face. Without a second thought, you nuzzle deeper into him, taking in the scent of his body wash. After the light goes out, Gavi doesn’t retract his arm back, instead dropping it over your waist, his hand landing on your lower back.

The last time you found yourselves in this position, you two were drunk and disoriented. This time, you were stone-cold sober. There was nothing to blame your actions on. But was it so wrong to be doing this?

Your eyelids flutter shut and your breathing slows as you slowly fell asleep. You can feel Gavi tug the sheets up to cover you two, further trapping you in the position. His nose finds its way to your scalp and you feel the air fanning your scalp. 

His warmth was engulfing you, your ear was pressed against his shirt, listening to his heartbeat, while his hand sends shockwaves up and down your spine as he slips his palm under your shirt. You’ve slept like this before. You don’t mind doing it again.

When Gavi woke up the next day, he checked his phone to find a text from Alvaro.

[09:08] alvaro: the owner just texted, he said theres no extra bed

[09:08] alvaro: you ok with that?

Gavi looks down to see your face buried in the crook of his neck, feeling the featherlight touch of your arms that slithered around his neck unconsciously during the night. He looks back to his phone to respond.

[09:09] gavi: i’ll be fine

The second and last night you would be staying at the Airbnb, you didn’t have to say anything when it was time to sleep. You simply got under the covers and waited patiently for Gavi to settle in next to you before turning off the lights. It felt like it was a normal part of your nightly routine.

When you arrived home two days later, lying in the comfort of your bedroom at night, you turned to the empty spot beside you. The bed felt half-full.

DECEMBER 31 — OVERDRIVE 

New Year’s Eve was synonymously known as a day of celebration and joy, but you couldn’t have had a worse day.

For starters, when you woke up this morning, you were greeted with a bright red stain spilling on your white sheets. The days leading up to the new year had been so hectic that you completely forgot your period would start today. Resentfully, you changed your sheets first thing in the morning, the action taking up too much energy for how early it was.

You shoved the bundle of cloth in your washing machine and went to turn it on, but it didn’t budge. You tried a few more times but it remained off even after your best attempts. There was no point in trying to wash the sheets by hand, so it meant a trip over to your neighborhood’s closest laundromat. 

Your first mistake of the day, you would soon learn.

Shortly after lunch, you arrived at the laundromat, sheets in hand. As you sat waiting for the machine to finish washing your sheets, a young man walked into the store, choosing to sit next to you out of all the empty seats available. You feel his eyes glued to you as you mindlessly scroll through your phone. It didn’t take long for the words to start coming out of his mouth.

You’re not from around here. What’s your name, bonita? It’s not often a young girl like you shows up around this part of town. Each sentence raises goosebumps on your skin — and not in a good way.

The last straw came when his palm landed on your bare thigh, quickly working its way up. You shove him away from you, maintaining your distance.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You loudly called out his disgusting actions in the middle of the laundromat, warning him to back off. The man starts sputtering nonsense back about how you shouldn’t get aggressive and how you were overreacting, only adding fuel to the fire.

“You can’t go around wearing that and get upset when people start touching you!” A hoodie and shorts. You were wearing a hoodie and shorts, and even if you wore anything else, that was not an invitation for his hands to land anywhere near you.

That was the final straw. You hastily pulled your sheets from the dryer, feeling your eyes well with tears in the process. The man continues to hurl insults in your direction, and the owner of the laundromat finally steps in to defuse the situation. You shoved the money on the counter and borderline ran out of the place as he shouts at you to never return.

It was the only time you took his words seriously.

Back home in the shower, you felt filthy. You aggressively scrubbed at your thighs with the loofah, hoping to eradicate any trace of him left. 

Later in the evening, you opened your laptop to go through your emails. You thought the mundane routine would be enough to take your mind off of this morning’s happenings. What you didn’t expect was that it would turn out to be the complete opposite, as your mouse lands on an angrily typed-out email from a college friend.

According to them, a recent group project involving you two received lower marks than they expected, and they felt the need to pin the blame on you. Your eyes darted across the screen, only skimming over the words — a few of which bore through your skull.

…I don’t know why it’s so difficult for you to just try and at least put in a little effort…

…I don’t care if this is how you do all your assignments, but this is a group project…

…You just never get anything right…

You sacrificed sleep for that project. You bailed on personal events to work on it alone. You gave it your all, sitting through your partner’s endless criticisms on early drafts. It’s funny how they have the nerve to accuse you of not putting in any effort when you clearly remember doing the majority of the work, while all they did was made small modifications.

The words came out of the screen and pierced you straight through the heart. Trembling fingers hovered over your keyboard as you struggled to respond. 

You find yourself typing and deleting sentences repeatedly, hovering between staying professional and feeling livid. Your brain was in too much of a frenzy to keep your emotions in check. The seething sensation you felt continued to build and build until you snapped, slamming the laptop shut and burying your head in your hands.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, you thought to yourself. Slowly but surely, your breathing collected, your heart rate slowed, and you began to calm down. You set down the laptop on your desk, vowing to keep it closed for the remainder of the day. 

After a quick bathroom trip to splash your face with water, you walked back into your room and dropped on the bed. You managed to take a peak at the clock on your wall; 6 pm. While you had made plans for a New Year’s party with your friends, midnight was still hours away, and all you could feel was the sleepiness consuming you.

Turning your phone off and setting it on the nightstand, you decide to take a quick nap. It was the least you could do to give yourself a break. 

You woke up to a stuffy, pitch-black room. You slowly lifted your head before jolting fully awake, scrambling to find your phone. The numbers glared back at you through the screen — it was 10.00 pm. The ‘quick nap’ you planned on taking had actually lasted almost five hours.

Below the clock, multiple notifications from your friends poured through, asking you about your whereabouts. You were supposed to be at Mateo’s house at this hour, getting ready to celebrate the new year. Instead, you were in clothes you use to sleep in every night.

[22:04] mateo: [tagged you] hello?? where are you?

[22:04] you: im here im here im here

[22:05] you: im omw i promise i had to deal with something first

You were, in fact, not on your way — rather you were hastily stripping off your clothes as you sat on your vanity, pulling out your makeup bag. You had less than two hours to get ready and be at Mateo’s place.

You had originally planned a glamorous look for the night, constructing the perfect outfit, hair, and makeup look, but you were racing against the clock. You decided to skip multiple steps in your routine and simplify your hairdo to help your case. As you ran your hair through the straightener for the nth time, you got another text from Mateo.

[22:23] mateo: oh yeah btw [tagged you] can you get grapes we’re running short

Mateo was talking about las doce uvas de la suerte of course, the Spanish tradition of eating twelve grapes at midnight for good luck. You’re pretty sure you have a fresh container in the fridge from your grocery shopping last week.

[22:24] you: yeah dw

After a 30-minute-long struggle, you were finally done getting ready. Shoving your belongings into a purse, you reached for the closest pair of shoes in your closet before stopping in the kitchen, retrieving the grapes. You know you’ll be met with endless complaints from your friends for being late, but hopefully, the grapes could somewhat make up for it.

The Uber ride to Mateo’s house consisted of you anxiously bouncing your leg to the point of cramping. You incessantly checked the time and watched as the time ticked up agonizingly slowly. When the driver took you to your destination, you could only mutter a quick ‘thank you’ before dashing out onto the street.

You could spot the fairy lights decorating the backyard from the distance, and the closer you stepped the louder the music resonated in your ears. Your friends, Mateo’s family members, and even his neighbors had gathered to celebrate.

Mateo emerged from inside the house and greeted you with a hug. “Took you long enough! We thought you’d never show up.”

You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, knowing you were so, so close to sleeping through the whole thing.

The boy looked you up and down and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Damn, you look like a mess,” he teased. 

You knew it was all in good fun — Mateo was always the jokester in the group. Despite this, you felt your veins throbbing in rage and your eyes getting hot. 

You had just gone through more than you can handle. It seemed like since the second you opened your eyes, nothing had gone your way. Something as seemingly trivial as a joke had pushed you over the edge, causing your blood to boil. 

“Enjoy your fucking grapes,” you sneered.

You shoved the container harshly against Mateo’s chest and he steps back at the impact. His eyes go wide at your sudden, out-of-character actions. The people in the yard watched as you stomped off the premises, jaw clenched and eyebrows lowered. Anyone could tell that you were fuming.

You had spent half an hour getting ready only to stay at the party for less than 2 minutes. The second Uber ride of the night was more depressing than the first. Your head was thrown back against the headrest as you stared at the car ceiling with dead eyes. You wanted nothing more than for the day to end.

Arriving home at your house, you gently shut the door behind you. The house remained in the same silent, dark condition it was in when you left not long ago. Your legs slowly carry you to the living room couch, letting your purse fall down your arms and onto the floor. Sinking onto the cushions, you sat alone in the gloomy space. You check the clock for one last time; 11.49 pm.

So, this was how you were spending New Year’s. Alone in the dark.

It was right at that moment when a series of rapid taps sounded against your front door, causing you to flinch in place. Who could be visiting you at this hour?

You swing the front door open to be met with a face you’ve seen a million times over. Gavi.

“Gavi,” you breathed out, no louder than a whisper. His gaze softens at the tone of your voice.

“Can I come in?” You nodded, stepping out of the way to let him in. You lead him to the living room, picking up your purse and placing it on the coffee table. You didn’t want him to think that you were on the verge of a breakdown not even five minutes ago.

“Why are you here?”

He sits next to you on the couch. “I heard something happened with you and Mateo.”

“Nothing happened. I was just, kinda pissed— not at him, but he was the unfortunate target.” You started to feel bad for the boy at that point and hoped he would be just as understanding as Gavi was. “He’s not hurt, is he?”

“No, no. He was more worried about you. We all were.” 

“How did you get here?”

“Oh, I drove.” Gavi pointed behind him as if pointing to his car. “Soon as I heard what happened I just tailed after you.” 

“Did they ask you to pick me up?”

“Do you want to go back?” The silence that followed lets him know that you didn’t want to. 

“That’s okay, that’s fine. Actually—” Gavi suddenly twists his body, digging in the pockets of his outfit. “If you’re planning on staying, I might as well give it to you now.” He searched his jacket and his shirt before feeling the back pocket of his pants and turning back to you. 

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” he instructs. You were hesitant at first but complied in the end.

You felt a small weight fall on your palms. “Open.”

Your eyelids fluttered open to the sight of a small gift box wrapped in a bowtie. Undoing the knot, you fumbled with the box before turning it upside down to reveal its contents, feeling Gavi’s eyes on you the whole time.

Two things fell out of the small box; a small folded note and another, smaller, velvet box. You examine the latter first, undoing the clasp to reveal a necklace gleaming in the dim moonlight. The piece of jewelry was gold in color with a thin bar of metal hanging from the middle. Upon closer inspection, you saw something engraving on the bar.

You picked up the necklace between your fingers, running them through the etches, unsure what was written.

“It’s the coordinates of my parents’ old house. Where we first met,” Gavi explains. The mention of the location brings back recollections of a sweaty nine-year-old Gavi, mud on his football kit, knocking on your front door to ask if he can take the ball he’d accidentally punted in your backyard. When you let the boy in, you would’ve never expected the bond you’d form for years to come.

A smile slowly appeared on your face as you fiddled with the necklace, rewinding the memories in your head. You moved to unravel the note next. The note was short, only containing wishes for you in the coming year, but it was the last sentence that stirred your emotions.

I’ll never shut up about how proud I am of you. You’re actually one of the best things that have ever happened to me. Happy New Year’s, stink •ᴗ•

After what you had endured from the moment you woke up, the thought that someone — Gavi, on top of that — told you they were proud of you and were one of the best things to ever happen to them was enough for your emotions to start stirring in your head, the first beads of tears dribbling down your heated cheeks.

Gavi didn’t even notice your crying until your silent sniffles grow louder and louder causing your body to droop. He wasn’t expecting you to react like this. At first, he thought he did something wrong. Was it a bad gift?

His arms encase your hunched frame, pulling your face closer to his chest. The feeling of his flesh under yours only made your sobbing worse. The items in your hand fell to the floor, tumbling on the carpet. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed, patting your back, letting you drench his dress shirt with tears. His outfit was the least of his concerns at that moment. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry.”

You don’t answer, pulling him in closer. He allows it.

Gavi cups your cheek in your hands, directing your gaze to look up at him. If you looked a mess at Mateo’s a few moments ago, you don’t know what you were now. Mascara staining your cheeks, eyes blown out and puffy, your nose bright red. Regardless, Gavi held steady eye contact with you, patiently waiting for you to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” you squeeze out in between inhales.

“No, no, no, don’t apologize. You have nothing to feel sorry for.”

“It’s just…” The back of your hand goes up to swipe your face dry. Gavi’s thumbs tenderly swipe underneath your eyelids, finishing the job for you. “...shit day. Nothing else.” You contemplated telling him the full story. But that was reserved for another time.

“Yeah?” he asked, looking back with puppy eyes. His other hand moves to brush the hair out of your face, running his fingers through your locks. You hummed in response and sat up straight, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. 

“Fuck, I need to get some water,” you said to yourself. Gavi leaps off the couch and borderline sprints to the kitchen.

“Sit down. I’ll get it for you.” He came back not long after, a water bottle in one hand and a box of tissues in the other. 

He remains silent as you blow your nose in the tissues and chug the contents of the bottle. He knows sometimes you don’t want someone to talk to when you’re sad, you just needed someone to be there with you.

“Sorry for getting your shirt wet.” Gavi breathes out, mumbling an it’s okay under his breath. He was tempted to ask about the series of events that led to your current state. Instead, he takes your hand in his and you almost melt into his touch.

You lean forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder and your heart rate finally slows. You can’t remember the last time you cried that hard, and now your head was throbbing, your eyes were dry, and your nose was stuffed. Gavi’s head leaning against yours helps you take your mind off the pain temporarily.

“Thanks for the gift. You have no idea how much it means to me.” 

You have no idea how much you mean to me, he thinks to himself.

“Did you…” you began to speak, “... really mean what you said in that note?” Gavi looks down to find you looking back up at him through your eyelashes.

“Every word.”

Your faces were now inches apart, the distance so small that you can feel each other’s breaths on your face. Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest, fast and hot in the anticipation of something — anything. It felt like you were on fire and you might spontaneously combust at any moment.

Gavi’s hand moves to cup your cheek again. His touches send a flood of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His head tilts to the side, and he pulls you in closer ever so slowly. You felt the soft brushing of his lips against yours, and that’s when a loud crackle erupts in the sky, brightening the entire room.

You and Gavi pull back from each other at the noise. Your heads snap in the direction of your window, watching as radiant colors decorate the pitch-black sky, leaving trails of makeshift stars behind.

The New Year had arrived.

The thundering of fireworks and whistles in the distance persisted for some time, as you and Gavi sit in awkward silence, breathing heavily. The universe is a douchebag, Gavi thought to himself. That was the closest he had ever gotten to releasing the stream of emotions he had locked away for months in his heart.

“Oh no!” you exclaimed suddenly.

“What?”

“We didn’t eat the grapes!”

Gavi almost scoffed at the sentence. Your faces were burning red and your hearts throbbed in your ribcages, but a cultural tradition was the most of your concerns.

“Well, here’s to twelve months of bad luck for us,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Together?”

“Together.”

JANUARY 2 — THE ONE TIME

Two weeks had never flown by faster for Gavi. Mentally, he’s still in his parent’s house for the first time in six months — he blinks, and now his train ride back to Barcelona is four hours away.

His mom had been blowing up his phone since he woke up. She had told him for the nth time that day to not forget his ticket, to make sure his ID was within easy reach and asked him repeatedly if he needed any food for the journey back home. He tuned out every message. His brain had been consumed by one thought, and one thought only.

The feeling of your lips on his. 

Even if it lasted for a millisecond, it drove Gavi to what seemed like insanity. When he bid his goodbyes, he sat in his car and stared at the steering wheel for fifteen minutes before he could drive off. When he washed his face that night, his fingers grazed over his lips to mimic the feeling. When he lay in bed, shutting his eyes to end the day, he was greeted with the memory of your face inches away from yours. He couldn’t escape you even in his dreams.

You, you, you. The thought had latched onto his senses and followed him the whole day. He looked at his living room sofa. You. He walked into the backyard and found fireworks boxes shoved in the dumpster. You. For the first time in his life, he took notice of how the fruit bowl in his parent’s kitchen contained grapes. You.

It was like the universe was taunting him at this point. It nudged him closer and closer to his heart’s desires at unfathomable speeds, only to materialize a brick wall blocking the way, smacking him in the face. 

It was even worse that neither of you had spoken to each other since. There was no good morning text, no voicemail, and nothing planned for you to do today. After all, it was his last day in Sevilla anyway.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe the universe actually knew best and was only trying to protect Gavi from having his heart torn into pieces. As he sits in the aftermath of his failed confession, he was convinced he had sent you flying the other way. He had gotten to the very position he swore against ending up in.

Meanwhile, you were experiencing the same distress he was going through. You couldn’t even step into your living room the next morning, avoiding it like a crime scene. You typed and deleted paragraphs of messages over and over, the words in the back of your mind but never successfully transferring to the screen.

You felt like it was now or never. Today was the day he would go home. With your uni and his football season starting soon, you weren’t sure when you’d see him again. You were horrified at the thought of Gavi thinking you didn’t want him just as badly, returning home hand-in-hand with a supermodel after moving on.

The two of you sat kilometers apart, an invisible string entwining your beating hearts.

Gavi bid his final goodbyes to his family members. He grabbed his belongings and went inside the car that would take him to the train station. Leaning his head against the window, he gazes at the views of the city one last time.

Then, the driver stops at a red light, and your house enters his field of vision.

The anxious feeling in his gut slowly reappeared as his legs instinctively bounced up and down. You were probably inside. He wonders what you were doing. At this time of day, you were usually getting your chores done.

He thinks to himself, does your heart beat the same way when you think of him? Do you feel the same fluttering sensation in your stomach when he gets close to you? Did you go through the same agonizing twelve hours as he did?

Gavi’s friends had all either texted or called goodbyes through the phone. All of them, except for you. And he wasn’t about to leave until you did the same.

It was like he lost total control of his body. In the middle of traffic, Gavi jolted out of his seat and walked out on the street, rapidly telling the driver he’ll be gone for a minute. In between car honks and angry cyclists, he pushes his way through the commotion and sprints to your front door.

He banged on the door, sweat dampening his collar from running. His hair was a disheveled mess. He had no big speech planned. All he needed was you. He doesn't care if you decide to slam the door in his face — he was seconds away from imploding. 

If the universe dared interrupted him then, he would fight it with his bare hands.

You opened the door nonchalantly. You weren’t expecting any guests, especially not Gavi.

“Gavi!” you greeted him. “Aren’t you supposed to be—”

“We need to talk.” The sentence wasn’t a suggestion. It was a demand.

For the third time that week, you found yourself alone in the living room with Gavi. Nothing good ever came out of situations like these.

You trailed shortly behind him as he walked into the living room, hands running through his hair. You had never seen him this distressed in your life. 

“Gavi, what’s going—” 

“I think we both know what’s going on.” Gavi takes a step closer to you.

Deep down, you did. You had been toying with the idea for months, but it had reached new heights last night. You should’ve known when you almost tried to kiss him, it wasn’t something you could just sweep under the rug. It would forever change your relationship with Gavi.

“Seriously, Y/N. I don’t think I need to spell it out. I’ve held it in for months, and it hurts everyday not being able to say it to your face.” Another step.

He watches as your expression remains unchanging. Your eyes darted across his face, avoiding his piercing stare.

“I’ve made it so clear that there isn’t anything in this world I wouldn’t do for you. And I’ve sat for months waiting for a response, for you to even notice.”

Months. He’d liked you for that long?

“What are you so afraid of?” his voice comes out breathy, almost desperate. He takes another step closer.

Sometimes you wish you could tell Gavi how much you hated him. How much you hated how you felt around him. You hated how he could bring out the depths of your heart that no one had ever seen. You hated how he would leave golden touches on all your aching wounds. You hated how easy it was to show your weakest sides to him.

He didn’t have to ask. You were already his, as he was already yours. And that fact left you petrified. It wasn’t the first time you had entrusted your heart in the hands of another, only for them to be the reason why it burst into a million pieces. 

But Gavi wasn’t just any other man. 

You finally build up the courage to look him right in the eye. He took half a step closer, standing apart from you at the shortest possible distance without coming into contact.

The recollections from the past week enter your thoughts as you gaze into the familiar hazel eyes. You tried one final time to suppress your true feelings, but it was getting increasingly difficult. Something inside you screamed to just let go. 

Your voice trembles as you speak. “I’m not sure what you want here.”

“You. I want you.”

You inched closer to him, lips hovering for a few seconds before they barely grazed against each other. Pushing the slightest bit closer, you softly pressed the kiss you had been dying for on his lips.

You pull away just enough to look him in the eye. “Gav— ”

Before you could finish speaking, Gavi’s palms cupped your neck, closing the gap between you. Your hands naturally land on his chest as he pulls you in even deeper, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

A million unspoken words were exchanged between the two of you. A million words telling him you felt the exact same way about him, how you wanted him just as badly. Gavi’s taste on your tongue was otherworldly, and it only makes you realize just how badly you’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life.

Your hands on his chest scrunched the material of his top, begging for more. You felt Gavi’s fingers trail down your spine, running his palms over your figure before landing on your hips. Before you knew it, your back came in contact with one of the cold walls of the room.

If it wasn’t for Gavi’s hips on your waist, you would’ve sunk to your knees. Trails of fire ran up and down your skin as your breath passionately huffed into each other’s mouths, hands grabbing at anything they could to pull each other closer.

With one final drawn-out kiss, you pulled away from each other, foreheads resting and eyes still closed. Your jaws were slightly agape, processing the encounter.

Slowly, your eyelids flutter open and your vision clears. You almost had to pinch yourself to convince yourself that this was not one of your many dreams about Gavi — this was real life.

Your right palm comes up to cup his cheek and he melts into your touch. Breathless, you smiled up at him softly before you spoke.

“Didn’t take you for a great kisser, Gavira,” you teased. He flashes a smug grin in response.

“Why, thank-”

“Better than I even imagined.” You cut him off, silencing him with another peck. You had finally learned to let go.

MARCH 17 — EPILOGUE

“Gavi! Let me change in peace,” you said in between giggles as the boy continued to bury his nose deeper in the crook of your neck.

“But you’ve been changing for hours now,” he complained, pacing in circles in the closet of your apartment in Barcelona.

“Hey, it’s my birthday so I’m the one in charge here,” you retorted, flipping through your selection of dresses.

It seemed like Gavi was finally getting bored of tormenting you all day as he left you alone to make your choice. He peeked over your shoulder to get a good view of the selection, watching your movements attentively.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots an all too familiar garnet-colored dress.

“What about that one?” He points to it, his arm going over your shoulder. Taking the hanger in your hands, you lifted the dress so Gavi could get a better look.

“What, this one?” Gavi hums in agreement.

“I wore this last year, I can’t wear it again. Especially not on my birthday.” You returned the item of clothing to your wardrobe before comparing different outfits again.

“Which is exactly why I want you to wear it.”

“And why is that?”

“Because seeing you in that dress last year was the very first time I realized I loved you.” Your head turns in his direction, disbelief splattered across your face.

“You’re joking.”

“Am not! You should’ve seen the way you looked in that dress. Who wouldn’t start falling head over heels for you,” he spoke as he leaned into your ear.

“God, I never took you for such a cornball before we started dating.” Giggling at his comments, you held his face in your hands, pinching his cheeks.

“But you love me.”

You spin around to look at him, your fingertip landing on his nose. “I tolerate you.”

“Hm, last night didn’t seem like just tolerating to me- Ouch!” A playful slap landed on Gavi’s right shoulder. His hand goes to rub over the affected area. You laughed at his reactions, and the devious look in his eyes shows that he had something up his sleeve.

Suddenly, his hands grab your waist and he throws you over his shoulders, causing you to yelp.

“Oh my god! Put me down!” You tried to jerk out of his grip to no avail. The youngster marched into your bedroom and plopped you down on the bed. He planted his hands on either side of you, trapping you beneath him.

Gavi’s fingers poke at the sides of your body and you instantly knew what he had been planning all along.

“Stop! That tickles!” you laughed uncontrollably, wriggling under his touch as he giggles along to your reactions. “Gavi!”

“I won’t stop until you say it!”

“Okay, okay! Please!” He gets in a few more pokes before leaving you free. You had to catch your breath for a few seconds, chest heaving from laughing so hard.

You grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him in just close enough so that the tip of your noses brushed against each other.

Gavi could see the way your glossy eyes glimmered under the room lights, the way you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 

“I love you,” you breathed out, pulling him in.

[s6lars]

the 5 times he knew.

read part two here.

gavi has always considered you his best friend and nothing more — until 5 events proved him wrong. (wc: 6.2k)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. pg6 x reader.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. just pure fluff! classic childhood best friends to lovers trope, idiots in love

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, drinking

𝐀/𝐍. reupload from 888bear. dedicating this to my most beloved boy 🫶 this was the very first thing i've ever written and it rlly kickstarted my writing on tumblr! happy reading my loves

MARCH 17 — THE BIRTHDAY DRESS

You weren't the type to throw lavish celebrations for your birthday, but you thought it wouldn't hurt to go all out on your 18th — your first step into adulthood.

The morning was spent with mostly your family members. You enjoyed lunch with them, smiling and giggling as you feasted on the dishes served. You ripped open boxes of wrapped gifts and read through a heap of colorful greeting cards. You were lost in the live music playing in the restaurant and surrounded by your loved ones. Before you knew it, the sun was about to set, signaling you to say your goodbyes and leave.

Exhausted but content, you got into an Uber and made your way to your flat in Barcelona. There was one more thing left to do that night, something you'd been looking forward to since you began planning today's festivities. Now that you're 18, it was only fitting to go to a club for the first time. Legally, at least — free from the stress of fake IDs and negotiations with the bouncers that lasted what felt like an eternity.

This part of the day was only reserved for your friends. You had rented out a private bar in a club named RED58, a place you were already quite familiar with, but it was the first time you had a space all to yourself. You curated the guest list and promptly informed them via text.

One of those friends, and the quickest to think of among 15 others, was Gavi. You two first met in his hometown of Sevilla when you were both just 9 years old, through your parents. You had grown quite fond of him, but eventually, Gavi signed with Barcelona and was forced to move away. The abrupt lack of communication with him pained you, only hearing occasional updates from your mom at the dinner table. This period of radio silence ended when you and your family moved out and followed suit around 4 years later.

It was then when you reconnected with him, 13 years old, still young and clueless but all the more mature. You frequently watched his games at La Masia, the training grounds within walking distance on your way home from school. Your bond strengthened as Gavi moved up the ranks, which peaked with him signing his first professional contract with Barcelona and making the national team. For the past five years, you couldn't think of a single moment where you two were distant. You were practically joined at the hip, and everyone in your life knew that too.

Gavi had been exceptionally busy these past few weeks, playing matches that ended either in despair or in tremendous victories. So when you first told him about your plans for today all those weeks ago, you made it clear that he wasn't under any obligation to come. If he felt that he needed some more rest, then he should. But he insisted on being there for you, no matter how tired he was.

He always did.

You stepped out from the backseat of the Uber and went into the building, making your way into the flat. You had no time to lose and started getting ready immediately. Taking off your shoes and sundress, you rummaged in your closet for the dress you had bought for tonight. After gently laying it out on your bed, you began putting on your makeup and doing your hair. About halfway through, you picked up your phone as it dinged, buzzing against your vanity.

[22.39] angry bird 🦜 : be there in five. dont be late stink 

You had asked Gavi to pick you up and take you to the club the night before. Placing your phone back down, you added some finishing touches to the look. Hoop earrings and simple gold jewelry, a set gifted earlier today by your mother. Feeling satisfied, you got up from the plush chair you sat on and walked over to the full-length mirror in your living room, clutching your purse. You examined yourself one last time, knowing Gavi would arrive soon.

Not long after, three rapid taps sounded on your door, signaling his arrival. Your head snapped to the direction of the noise, making your way over to let him in. Swinging the door open, you met his gaze and smiled. 

"Gavi! Come in."

For a moment, he stood at the door as you walked back into the living room, feet frozen in place. Turning your head back around to him, a concerned look on your face, he shook his head lightly and followed behind you, his shoes echoing against the floors.

Standing back in front of the mirror, you adjusted your hair, turned, and looked back around, standing still once more to say to him, "How do I look?" You turned to look at him, his hazel eyes scanning you up and down before finally making eye contact.

He takes a deep breath before answering, "Nice." You hummed in response, sensing the slightest hint of restraint in his words.

Turning back to look at your reflection, you let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, I know I don't... dress like this often," you huffed out, "and it might be weird to you. But I think I look pretty damn good." You put your hands on your hips, weight shifting to one foot as you bent the other, head tilted at him. He could only chuckle in response.

It was true. You didn't dress like this often, in fact, at all. The silk dress was garnet in color and noodle-strapped. The fabric hugged your curves and tightened around the waist. The skirt reached down to your thighs, a slit running down one side, your back exposed. Gavi had never seen you like this, finding himself unable to look away for even a second.

"I never said you didn't." He swiftly turns back, desperately trying to prevent you from noticing the red searing on his cheeks, fingers running through his locks. "Let's go. I'm sure the others are waiting for us." He walked to the door, you following not too far behind him.

As he holds the door open for you to exit, he pauses and lets you get a few paces ahead. Staring at your silhouette from behind, his jaw on the verge of dropping straight to the floor, he felt a fluttering sensation brew in his abdomen.

Fuck, he thought to himself, making his way to catch up with you.

APRIL 29 — JEALOUSY

 "Y/N!" A distant voice shouted, snapping you back to reality. You opened your eyes and turned to look at the person who called your name.

"What?" You ejected back. You propped yourself up on your elbows and repositioned your sunglasses from the bridge of your nose to your head.

Vision clearing, you make out the shape of Pedri walking across the coastline towards you, stopping in his tracks once he was beside the sunbed you had been lying on. He towers over you and looks down to meet your eyes. "Gavi's starting up the grill."

Your eyes light up at the words, jumping up to your feet and marching in the direction Pedri came from. "Took you guys long enough!" You turned back around to see him following you.

"Hey! Not my fault Gavi doesn't know how to work a grill."

You giggled. "And you know how to, but just decided to play volleyball instead of helping?" You turned around to face him, now walking backward.

"You're one to talk. You passed out for at least half an hour, you know."

"Because the food wasn't ready," you teased, arms crossing on your chest.

"Maybe if you helped." He steps closer to you.

"Maybe if you helped." You pointed your finger at him, the tip landing on his chest. Before you two could argue further about who was less helpful, a third voice interjected from ahead.

"Pedri! Help me out!" It was Gavi. The two of you went to look at him in front of the grill, holding tongs in one hand and fanning his surroundings with the other. The white smoke from the grill had swirled in front of his face, obscuring his vision, but you could tell he was sneering from afar. 

"Looks like he still can't work the grill," Pedri remarked. You turn to look at each other in unison, his lips pursed. "I think I should help him out for real now." He jogs toward Gavi, leaving you alone with the others.

Gavi had a few days off from training and decided to host a hangout with his friends. He invited some other Barcelona players and his hometown friends, including you. He decided to spend the evening at Barceloneta Beach, bringing drinks and food to grill. 

You grabbed a foldable chair lying on the ground, set it up, and sat down. You pulled out your phone from the pocket of your swimsuit cover-up and began scrolling through your socials, feeling the breeze in your hair and the smell of charcoal waft to your nose.

With the help of Pedri, Gavi successfully controlled the grill, and they began cooking together. He started rambling about how the grill was 'probably broken' and that they should've 'brought a better one.' Pedri didn't care to listen, the younger boy's voice fading into white noise. Instead, he was looking at you.

His eyes were glued to your figure, sitting with one leg over the other, your swimsuit cover-up failing to cover your thighs and legs. He noticed the tension in your face as you scrolled through your phone, eyes darting around the screen. It wasn't until Gavi shoved him in the shoulder that he snapped back to reality and turned to look at him.

"Are you even listening to me?" he chided. Pedri ignored him and redirected his gaze back at you. Gavi, curious as to what his friend was too busy staring at to listen to his words, glanced in the same direction. His eyes landed on you, and he looked back at Pedri, understanding what was happening instantly.

Gavi introduced you and Pedri some months ago. In fact, he was the first teammate of his that you met. You two kicked it off not long after, bumping into each other every time Gavi organized these hangouts (which was at least once any time he had days off). He's seen the two of you talk and joke about multiple times. But this time, Pedri had something in his gaze as he checked you out. Something Gavi knows is only reserved for girls he's interested in.

Pedri turned to meet his eyes. With a smirk on Pedri's face and Gavi shaking his head in disbelief, the two shared a look that fully confirmed Gavi's suspicions. "You," Gavi starts to speak before being interrupted by Pedri.

"Yup," he interjected as if reading Gavi's mind and knowing what he was about to say next. "Well, maybe." Pedri looks down at the grill and shuts it off, transferring the cooked pieces of meat to the serving platter, carrying it in his hands. The two make their way to everyone else, slowly walking to finish the conversation.

"What do you mean 'maybe'? Do you like her or not?" Gavi questioned. Pedri let out a scoff and looked straight ahead.

"I don't know, man. Things feel like they've changed between us, you know? Not in a bad way, obviously. I think I like her, and I think she likes me too. But I don't know for sure yet," he replies. Pedri set down the dish on a table and called the others.

He turns to look at Gavi. "If she doesn't like me back, I wouldn't be all that heartbroken. But if she does, dating her doesn't sound so bad."

Gavi kept his eyes on the sand between his feet the entire time Pedri spoke. Dating her. Those words echoed in his head and left a sour taste on his tongue. It didn't help that during the whole hour or so that everyone was eating, you two chose to sit next to each other. Talking and whispering things in each other's ears, your hand lightly hitting his back during fits of laughter and your thighs always touching. 

Gavi didn't even try to hide the look on his face, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched, glaring at the sight. Lucky for him, everyone else was too occupied to notice.

He tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. You two had been friends for a while and knew each other well. He had seen it all unfold before his eyes, but why was he only now feeling this kind of resentment? Pedri was single, and so were you. He had no right to police who you could and couldn't date. After all, you weren't his.

Rounds of drinks and volleyball later, it was time for everyone to go home. Gavi was packing the things he had brought from his place when you walked up to him. Still irritated with what happened earlier, he tried his best to ignore your presence. That all went flying out the window when he heard what you said.

"You still taking me home?" You and Gavi had shown up to the beach together, and he would take you back to your place as usual. This happened often, the two of you showing up and leaving events together. It had been a sort of unspoken rule between the two of you.

"Yeah." He zipped close the bag containing all his belongings, gaze still avoiding yours. "I'm going to put this in the car first."

Gavi swung the bag over his shoulder and was about to turn away, heading straight for his car. However, a familiar voice came up behind him, one he couldn't ignore. Pedri. He showed up with his own bags, smiling at Gavi before turning to look at you.

"How are you going home, Y/N?" Pedri asked, a tone of optimism in his voice. 

"Oh, I'm actually going with Gavi. I always do." Gavi smirked at that last statement. He examined Pedri's face, slightly dropping from disappointment.

"That's right," he says. Gavi extended one arm and wrapped it around your shoulders, sending a message to Pedri. "See you around, hermano." He walks past him towards the car park. 

Blissfully unaware of Gavi's feelings, you felt confused. After a few paces, you looked up to make eye contact with him. "What was that all about?"

Gavi looked down, meeting your gaze. "What was what all about?"

You squinted your eyes at him. He certainly knew more than what he was leading on, but you shrugged it off anyway. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you couldn't help but feel a slight tension between him and Pedri. You turned back to look forward, Gavi relieved you didn't interrogate him further.

Brushing those thoughts aside, you smiled at him and said, "I had fun today." He smiled in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Thanks for inviting me," you continued.

"Thanks for being here with me," his gaze unwavering.

"I'll always be here with you, Gav." You turned to look away once more. He felt his heart skip a beat. Not even 5 minutes ago, his head felt fuzzy from the mix of envy and beer. But now, his thoughts had never been so clear. He knew you weren't fully sober either, but hoped deep down that you meant what you said tonight - because it meant the world to him.

You start to stumble in your steps, leaning your head on his shoulder for support. He does the same, his head resting on top of yours. The two of you continue walking like this, breathing in unison as the sound of waves crashing surrounds you, the stars dimly illuminating the way.

Gavi lifts his head momentarily, looking back to where you two walked from, and sees Pedri. He whips his head in the opposite direction, avoiding looking at you two, and follows Ansu to his car with his head hung low. 

Gavi turns back to look ahead of him, smirking. He can only tighten the grip of his arm around you, pulling you in closer, unwilling to let go.

MAY 4 — THE MORNING AFTER

Gavi had no idea how he ended up in this position when he awakened on the couch that morning.

You were sound asleep, lying on top of him. Your head was nuzzled in the crook of his neck, your hand resting on his shoulder. Gavi had one arm wrapped around you, his hand landing on the small of your back. Your legs were a tangled mess, your nose lightly grazing his jawline.

Gavi felt paralyzed. He was terrified to move, not wanting to wake you up. In the meantime, he racked his memory and tried to remember how this happened in the first place. 

He recalls the day before. Barca had won 1-0, Gavi being the sole goalscorer leading them to victory. He still remembers the thundering roars from the stands and the celebrations after.

As usual, the team went to celebrate, drinking and partying through the night. Everyone had invited friends, significant others, and family members along. Gavi was no exception. He asked you to come along, going straight to the bar from Camp Nou. Your appearances at these post-match celebrations had become increasingly frequent as the season progressed.

From that point on, everything was a haze of vodka, EDM music, and neon lights. He remembers having one too many drinks that night. Now, he has a throbbing headache because of the hangover. He thinks it'll get worse if he keeps thinking but persists anyway.

He remembers getting to the point where he could no longer walk in a straight line, his knees buckling as he tried. The bartender saw this and began pulling his drinks back, obligated to. As he tries to reason with the man behind the bar to pour him up just one more shot, he starts to get aggravated. He's disoriented, and Pedri and Ferran have to step in, pulling him away and shoving him down onto a couch at a booth. 

The pair decided that Gavi had partied to his limit and needed to go home. Pedri fetched you from the dance floor, and the three of you hauled him down the flight of stairs (hoping that there wouldn't be a swarm of fans at the exit) and shoved him in the backseat of Pedri's car. 

Pedri drove you four back to Gavi's place, Ferran in the passenger's seat. In the backseat were you and Gavi. His head rested on your lap, your hands running through his hair. He fell in and out of consciousness, mumbling a string of incoherent sentences from time to time. 

Not long after, you arrived, and Pedri pulled over. The three of you struggled again to get him out of the car and into his flat. Exhausted, you plopped him onto one of the couches in his living room. Gavi fell asleep immediately, and you and the two other boys went to collect your breaths.

"You guys should probably get going now," you said to them. Pedri and Ferran turned to look at each other, then back to you.

"Are you not going to go home? We can take you to your place," Pedri replied, knowing your car was back home. 

"I can take care of Gavi. I'll take a cab home or something." You take a sip from the glass of water in your hands before continuing, "You guys are probably exhausted. Go have a rest."

"It's 3 am, Y/N," Ferran said.

"I'll be fine, really. Don't you both have training tomorrow? You really need to rest." They saw no point in refuting you. You got up from the chair you were sitting on and approached them both, hugging them goodbye and leading them to the front door.

Alone in the flat with Gavi, you walked over to him by the couch and sat next to him. You'd done this many times before, taking care of him after a long night of drinking, and he'd done the same to you. You examined his face, his eyelids shut, and his breathing slowed. He had fallen asleep.

You slowly got up again and walked to the edge of the couch, taking off his shoes and socks. Gavi twisted in his sleep, indicating he wasn't entirely unconscious. You debated carrying him to his bed, quickly realizing how horrible the idea was — you weren't sober yourself, and you were consumed with sleepiness.

So instead, you grabbed another glass of water and set it by the coffee table nearest to him, along with some painkillers. He needed it when he woke up. After completing these tasks, you sat down on the end of the couch and waited for an Uber driver to pick you up. 

From the opposite end, a gravelly noise attracts your attention. Gavi had woken up, and you couldn't quite understand what he was saying, still intoxicated. Still, you let him know what was happening.

"Hey, sleepyhead. You're at home. You tried to climb over the counter to pour yourself a drink when the bartender refused." You got up and walked to him, bending down slightly. He was still disoriented but had it in him to keep eye contact.

"How did we get here?" he slurred, his voice no louder than a whisper. You could see from the distance that his eyelids were struggling to stay open, and he was about to fall asleep again. 

"Pedri drove, and Ferran was with us too. They went home not too long ago." You hear Gavi groan in response. He laid his head on the armrest, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes again.

"Speaking of, I need to go home too. Waiting on an Uber," you said. You hear him grunt in response, some words escaping his lips. You hummed, asking what he meant.

The second time he spoke was louder but still inaudible. "What was that?" you asked one more time.

Gavi's arm suddenly reached out for you, wrapping around your torso and pushing you on top of him. You yelp out, trying not to make much noise. He nuzzled his nose into your scalp, and it was then that you finally made out what he was trying to say all along.

"Stay."

You wriggle from his grip and try to look up at him, finding it difficult because of his strength. But you catch a glimpse of his face, sound asleep once more. Your chest was flushed against his, and you felt the air coming out his nose, fanning your scalp. You desperately try to get back up without waking him but soon find it impossible. 

A few minutes passed, and you felt your breathing slow, your eyelids fluttering shut. You felt safe this way, in his embrace. You take in his scent, how his fingertips graze your back every once in a while. You had accepted your fate and decided there was no harm in falling asleep like this, limbs tangled with your best friend. It was something you two would worry about when you woke up.

Well, now Gavi was awake, and he was definitely worrying. He had seen the cup of water and pill on the coffee table, quickly deducing that it was your doing, and took it. Within a few minutes, his headache had disappeared, leaving him to piece together an explanation without the pain.

But he soon realized that he didn't mind being in this position. He didn't feel uncomfortable and even started trailing his fingernails up and down your spine. This has never happened to you two before, but it didn't feel unfamiliar. The way your bodies molded with each other like perfect pieces of a puzzle, it felt like home. You felt like home.

Your body jolted awake, startling Gavi. You raised your head, your eyes meeting his. He tried to lean up from the couch, thinking that you would be up on your feet doing the same, slightly embarrassed. To his surprise, you laid your head down on his chest, preventing him from getting up any further.

"I have a headache," you groaned. The hangover had kicked in.

"I know," he responded. "Want me to get you Tylenol?"

You shook your head against his chest, refusing. Gavi mumbled in approval and slowly lied back down on the couch. He heard you let out a sigh.

"Do... you want anything else?" he asked. There was a slight pause before you replied.

"Stay."

He knew he had to return the favor.

JULY 13 — COMING HOME

[07.19] angry bird 🦜 : just landed. see u soon

You repeatedly read the text message until you felt it would be etched in your memories forever. Gavi sent that message over an hour ago, and he was yet to show up at your front door. 

Gavi and the team had been in the United States on a pre-season tour. It was his first time joining the team on these trips. In the week leading up to your departure, he couldn't go a single day without telling you just how excited he was.

When he finally departed, it was the longest that you two had been apart in a while. Most of his games were played in Spain, the rest happening abroad. But even then, he would only leave for a week or so before returning home.

The distance was unbearable. You two always missed each other when you were apart, but you were perfectly content with just a few texts back and forth. Now, you felt like you could go crazy if you went a day without hearing his voice.

You supported him through your phone screen, watching his travels through his posts on Instagram and appearances on Barca's Youtube channel. You always sent a good luck text before every friendly match and another either congratulating his win or cheering for him after a loss. This routine persisted the entire time he was there.

The time difference was by far the worst. In the evenings, when you were done with the day, he was busy with training and press conferences. By the time he was done with work, it was past midnight for you. Still, you managed to stay awake until the early mornings to hear him talk about his day.

"There are so many cool things happening here. If only you were here." You were on Facetime with him, now a part of your nightly routine when he was away. He talked you through everything he did that day, and in return, you updated him about what happened back home. 

"You seem to be getting attached to America," you responded. You hear a faint chuckle coming out of your phone speakers.

"It's nicer than what I thought." He moves to lie down on his bed, an arm behind his head supporting it. "But I really do miss being home."

Gavi had to lick his lips to physically prevent himself from saying he missed you the most. He was content with being anywhere on the planet so long as you were by his side.

"Then come home quicker, stink. It's been boring here without you," you teased. Gavi raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"So what you're saying is you miss me? Hm?" he taunted back, his signature smirk plastered on his face, his head slightly tilted.

"Oh definitely, I miss wiping vomit off my kitchen counters after driving you home from the bar. Can't wait to have you do that again," you replied sarcastically. 

This brings you to your current state. He was expected to touchdown in Barcelona at around 6 o'clock. Over an hour had passed, and you waited patiently in your living room, knowing he had to get through customs and everything. But you yearned for him and wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and give him the biggest hug, never letting go.

Stuck at the airport, Gavi shared the same thoughts. He promised to meet you as soon as possible, but now he was trapped in a cramped room with the team, waiting for someone's lost luggage. His foot bounced as he fumbled with the strings of his hoodie, growing increasingly impatient.

Not a day went by in the States without you on his mind. He remembers getting a pack of M&Ms from the hotel snack bar and how you would eat one color at a time before moving to another because it just "felt right that way." One rainy day in New York City, he glanced out the hotel window and recalled every time you would stomp in puddles to get his clothes wet, annoying him. He cautiously examined a coke bottle before opening it, knowing how many times you had pranked each other with shaken ones. 

But the worst was when he found himself at night in his bed staring at the ceiling, wide awake. He grew tired of seeing your face through a screen, your voice through a speaker. Without realizing it, he started counting down the days before he could see you again, the distance becoming unbearable.

Once the boys were free to leave, he practically leaped up from his seat and drove straight to your place. His phone died while waiting so he couldn't tell you he would be late. Gavi's heart sank at the thought of you in your living room, pacing back and forth, waiting for him. 

He had no idea why he had been feeling like this. You two had gone longer without speaking in the past, and he definitely misses you every time he goes away, but it was different this time. He couldn't concentrate on anything else, a distinguished emptiness in his chest at every thought of you. It was hard to put into words. 

He racked his brain at every explanation possible as to why until the familiar sight of your apartment building came into view. Exiting his car, he hurried into the building and hopped into an elevator. He didn't even need to see the floor numbers to know which he was punching. The action was essentially muscle memory at this point.

The elevator doors separated, and Gavi made his way to your door. He was tired and jetlagged, and his back was in pain from the uncomfortable position he was driving in. He rings your doorbell, hearing footsteps echoing inside before the door swings open.

His eyes meet yours for the first time in nearly a month. He catches you about to speak, but before you can, he wraps his arms around your waist, one of his hands resting between your shoulder blades. Gavi had pulled you flush against his chest, the force lifting you off your feet. He held you in the air for a moment before slowly placing you back down, his hand traveling up your spine to the back of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the crook of your neck, eyes shut, taking in your presence. How you felt under his touch, how your heart beat against his. Everything about you.

You were here. Not through a video call or an audio message. Gavi holds you for a moment, unwilling to let go in fear of being separated again. Once he eventually does, he pulls away slowly, your hands holding his arms. You two looked at each other, breathless from the adrenaline before you spoke.

"Hey."

"Hi." A smile slowly appeared on his face.

The two of you stood out in the hallway for the world to see, but Gavi couldn't care less. You looked up at him with stars in your eyes, your chest heaving, and your face burning red. 

And that was when he finally understood why he's been feeling this way all this time.

AUGUST 12 — ACCEPTANCE

It had been a month since Gavi came to terms with the fact that he likes you. A lot. He's had feelings for a good amount of girls and dated them in the past, but there was something in the way you made his heart race a little faster and made him forget about anyone else. 

Maybe "came to terms with" is not the correct phrase, considering how he's been acting lately. The week after he came home, he paced up and down his room for what felt like centuries, arguing with himself about these feelings. 'It was definitely the distance,' he thought, and now that he's home, it would all go away. That was quickly proven wrong when he failed to hold eye contact with you one night, fidgeting uncontrollably, cartwheels in his stomach.

'It's just a phase. I'll grow out of it,' Gavi thought a few days later, but now it had been a month since that fateful day, and all he's been able to think about was you.

He didn't know why he beat himself up so much because of it. Actually, he did know, deep down. He was terrified of losing you. You had shown interest in many boys multiple times, telling him about your crushes and situationships for hours. He also knew what you were like when it came to love — if someone dared to hurt you, you cut them out of your life without question.

Gavi was terrified that you didn't like him back. That one word, one wrong move, would send you far in the opposite direction, abandoning him. It scared him even more because you were his closest friend. You shared a bond with him that lasted years, never wavering, eternally strengthening. He didn't want to throw that away for your happiness or his.

It had been a month since Gavi came to terms with the fact that he liked you and had to keep quiet about it. He would rather swallow his feelings to keep you in his life than dare and watch you turn into a stranger.

This drove him into what felt like madness. It started to affect his daily life, even distracting him during training. He felt like a ticking time bomb that would eventually explode if he didn't tell anyone. He was never good at keeping his emotions in check.

Pedri was the first to notice this drastic change. Gavi always looked scared or anxious, but that was just his face. This time, he could tell something was different. He genuinely looked bothered. 

This continued for weeks. At first, Pedri wondered if it could be his fault or someone else's on the team. He asked Gavi in the dressing room one day. The youngster was flustered, quickly dismissing the question and changing the subject. Pedri's suspicions grew, and he felt worried. So he tried again. This time, it was on a bus ride during media day.

Upon hearing the question, Gavi let out an exasperated sigh and rested his head back on the seat. He felt irritated at the question, the carsickness not helping.

"Why are you asking me this again?"

Pedri tilted his head slightly. "Because I know something's wrong, Gav. You're shit at hiding it," he responded. "I mean, if I did something wrong, then tell me."

Gavi's head whipped to meet Pedri's gaze, his eyebrows furrowed. "No, it's not because of you."

"Is it one of the boys?"

"No, it's not one of the boys," he maintained. Pedri crossed his arms and leaned against the bus seat, still looking at Gavi. He takes his word for it but knows he's still upset. But if it wasn't about football, what could it have been?

He was about to find out soon enough.

One fateful afternoon, the team was doing photoshoots at Camp Nou. Photoshoots like these took up the whole day and meant a lot of sitting around doing nothing. Pedri didn't like photoshoot days, but he endured it every time, knowing it was his job.

The photoshoot was being done on the court, near the goalposts. The boys were waiting for the photographers to set up and have their names called one by one. While waiting, they lounged up in the spectator's seats. Legs up on the seats in front or lying across the ones next to them, they were trying to make themselves comfortable.

Pedri was no exception, taking several seats and lying on his back. He had one arm over his eyes, blocking the sunlight. He felt the wind on his face and people talking in the background. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard footsteps make their way up the steps and sat on the seat next to his head.

Putting his arm down, he twisted his body to look at who the person was. To his surprise, it was Gavi. The boy had practically avoided him since the bus incident a few days ago.

"What's up?" Pedri says, moving his hand on top of his stomach. Gavi looks out into the distance and responds.

"I need to tell you something."

Pedri detected the seriousness in his deep voice, the air around the two shifting. He took a deep breath before speaking up again, "You can tell me anything."

Gavi pauses for almost a minute before replying, Pedri growing uneasy by the second.

"I think... i'm in love with Y/N."

Pedri nearly scoffs at the revelation.

He sits up, smiling widely at Gavi. The boy looks at the expression on his face in confusion, almost in worry. Pedri's hand lands on Gavi's shoulder, patting it a few times.

"Congratulations on being the last one to find out."

[s6lars]

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