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“So.” Messi says and stares at him.
“So.” Sergio says and stares back.
“So.” Messi repeats and stares some more.
Sergio smiles serenely and takes a delicate sip of his mate tea. It tastes like ass, but Sergio doesn’t let it show on his face.
Messi’s eyes narrow, Sergio’s smile turns a tiny bit triumphant.
“You’re probably wondering why I invited you over.” The Argentinian says slowly.
Sergio’s smile widens. “Not really.”
Messi’s eyes narrow further and he seems to be gritting his teeth. Sergio feels a certain amount of glee at having managed to further annoy him - he didn’t really want to come here but he also didn’t want to say no. How would that have looked? Big bad Sergio Ramos scared of little Messi? Yeah no. And maybe he sort of owes Messi for taking his side during that very fun (not) Barca team night. Could have gotten real ugly otherwise, with all those asshole culés all pissed off ‘cause nasty Sergio stole their prince or whatever… Well, fuck ‘em. Fuck Messi too, by the way. Maybe. At least if he tries to be a dick.
“You think you’re so smart, Ramos.”
“I have my moments.” Sergio innocently inspects his nails. He’ll be damned before he’ll allow Messi to see him rattled…
Even if he is kind of rattled. This is just - a lot. Sergio, Geri, that whole thing. Meeting the team. Geri coming to the team barbecue wasn’t so bad, it was fun. It was nice having him there, even if Case and Carva were being dicks about it. These assholes, by the way. Sergio owes them an ass-kicking. Sure, Geri is a jerk, but he’s sort of Sergio’s jerk now. His fucking Mate. Sergio Ramos’ Mate is not to be disrespected! What would people think?!
Plus it was… not nice to see them have a go at Geri. His Alpha had that little wrinkly frown on his face, the one he gets when he’s unhappy. When he thinks he doesn’t belong. Same little frown he gets when he’s with La Roja and the fans boo him... Sergio hates it when they do that and he hates it when Geri gets that little frown. It just… doesn’t feel right. Sergio doesn’t like it when Geri isn’t happy...
Messi is wearing a similar frown right now, but this one Sergio likes seeing. Messi annoyed is a good thing. That means Sergio is winning. That’s what he likes best, getting one over Messi. Preventing him from reaching his goal, literally and figuratively. Lionel Messi was put into this world to be a pest in Sergio’s life so yes, Sergio enjoys seeing that frown. And that’s all that this is, by the way. Sergio’s not in any way intimidated or worried or some shit like that. Even if this is one of Geri’s closest friends. Even if this is Leo.
The guy Geri won’t shut up about. The guy Sergio might almost get worried or jealous over, if he was the type to get worried or jealous (which he totally isn’t!), with Geri constantly chattering on about him.
Leo is sooo cool, Sergio, did you see our last game, he scored a hattrick again. Leo is so awesome , Sergio, he’s the best thing since sliced bread and he’s just so nice too. I promise you’ll love him, Sergio, he’s just such a kind, decent, wonderful guy, Sergio. Did I ever tell you about how we basically grew up together? Oh man, that guy knows things about me even my own parents don’t know, we’re just so close , him and I…
It’s fucking annoying, the way Geri is gushing about Messi whenever he gets the chance. Like he’s all smitten and shit. Lionel Messi, in Geri’s eyes, is apparently the perfect human being. And Sergio? Well. Sergio is… not.
Sergio, why did you get a card again, are you actually stupid or just trying to ruin your own life. Sergio, what the hell are you wearing. Sergio, why do you insist on being an asshole, I was just trying to pull out your chair for you. Sergio, stop claiming I treat you like an invalid, I was just trying to be nice. Sergio, why do you have to have to be so difficult all the time…
It sucks, okay? It sucks that everybody, even Geri, especially Geri, just expects Sergio to suddenly be all lovey-dovey with his Alpha or whatever they think Sergio’s supposed to be doing. It sucks how things are suddenly so different and difficult. It sucks how suddenly some of the Alphas on Real’s staff don’t want to talk to Sergio anymore since they think they need permission from Geri first. It sucks that yesterday during training Casemiro tackled Sergio so hard that he’s still sore and then didn’t even say sorry afterwards, instead stared at him in challenge, like he was waiting for Sergio to show weakness (which Sergio didn’t, by the way, he got up like nothing had happened and then proceeded to kick Case’s ass!). It sucks that Perez suddenly wants an addendum to Sergio’s contract that keeps him from getting pregnant…
And it fucking sucks that so many people seem to be thinking Sergio is going to be a horrible match for Geri. He doesn’t need them to tell him that he’s not exactly the standard Omega, okay? He knows he’s not. Sergio has issues, he is aware of that, but fuck everyone who thinks they have any right to judge him for it. He’s sick and tired of all the sneering, the condescending whispers, the way that before a game some of the rival team captains wouldn’t even shake his hand anymore if it wasn’t required. He’s fucking sick and tired of all the fucking changes in his world and he doesn’t need anyone to add to it even more. He said yes to meeting Geri’s teammates because Geri asked him to, because it obviously meant something to his Alpha and Sergio kinda… wanted to give this to him. Geri came to Real’s team barbecue too, so... He even vowed to be nice about meeting the culés - and it wasn’t his fault that these jerks all ganged up on him almost from the second he got there. Okay, so maybe Sergio kind of provoked them. But he only did that so they wouldn’t lash out first, like everybody knows they wanted to. He only hurt them first before they could hurt him.
And now he’s here, in Lionel Messi’s fucking house, in a place that’s warm and comfortable and cozy and where he knows Geri spends many of his days. There are pictures of Geri everywhere, him and Messi, him and Suarez and Messi, him and the team and Messi, always smiling, always happy… They even cook together, him and Messi, Geri’s told Sergio all about it, like some cutesy little fantasy of the perfect Alpha/Omega relationship…
Sergio can’t cook for shit.
He doesn’t like being here. He doesn’t like being put on the spot, and he doesn’t like being scrutinized by the one guy who’s so very good at making Sergio feel like he’s… lacking. Not just on the pitch, when this fucking asshole once again runs circles around Sergio’s team no matter how hard they fight. Off the pitch too, where everybody loves Messi, where Geri talks about him like the Second Coming and has his own private little nickname for. The guy who can do no wrong, the guy even Cris was swooning about, even if he was trying to hide it with disdain. Fucking Lionel Messi. Fucking Leo.
Okay, yeah, maybe Sergio does feel a bit threatened. But he thinks he really has every fucking right to feel so. And by the way: mate tea is gross.
“So.” Messi says once more (wow, what a vocabulary) and sits forward. “You and Geri.”
Sergio hums, doing his best to appear nonchalant. Is this the part where Messi tells him all the many reasons why Sergio is not a good match for poor little Geri? Well, fuck that. Okay, so Sergio didn’t exactly plan to get mated to the guy, but here they are now, mated. He’s made his peace with that (sort of, he’s getting there), and he’s not just gonna fuck off because people think he should.
“Yeah, me and Geri. What about it? Are you sad I got to him first? Tough luck, buddy.” Sergio adopts a tragic expression. “Guess you just weren’t his type.”
Messi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why do you always have to be such a…” He breaks off and takes a deep breath. “Look, Ramos. I-”
Sergio puts down his teacup with way too much force, spilling tea all over the saucer. He’s feeling defensive and that’s not a good thing with Sergio Ramos. Sergio feeling defensive is a Sergio ready to lash out, and Messi, that perfect little Omega, makes a very good target.
“No, you look. Thanks for sticking up for me the other day with your team of losers, hey, way to go, dude. But you do not get to give me any shit about my… thing with Geri. You do not get to assume you can tell me what to do just because you’re Geri’s best friend. You do not get to invite me over here and try to rub your stupid close friendship in my face like some kind of jerk-off way of showing me in how many ways you think I’m lacking what Geri needs or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing. Your loser teammates already gave me that talk, thank you very much, that was so much fun! Everybody thinks you’re this great guy, this picture-perfect Omega, but you’re a dick, did you know that? No wonder Cris broke up with you!”
Messi’s been listening with wide eyes, but at those last words he rears back. His eyes widen even more and his mouth drops open, a soft gasp emerges. He looks…
Crushed.
Suddenly Sergio feels bad. Shit. He didn’t mean to say that. “Okay, look, that was kind of a low blow. Sorry.”
Messi sighs and slumps in his seat, looking down at the floor. “He told you. Of course he told you that.”
Sergio doesn’t know what to do, so he glares at Messi’s bowed head. “Well, yeah.” Messi keeps staring at the floor. His hands are balled into fists, the knuckles white, every line of his body tense and uncomfortable. Sergio keeps glaring. Messi doesn’t look up. Shit. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it. Okay, I did mean it, but I didn’t. I was just...”
“Sergio.” Messi sighs and looks up, eyes dark and… pained. “Did he also tell you that I asked him to mate me and he said I’d have to give up football first? That it wouldn’t look good if his Omega had a higher standing than he did?”
Sergio - stares. “What?”
Messi suddenly gets up. “Forget it. I didn’t mean to - I think you should go.”
Sergio gets up too, towering over Messi, who seems to curl in on himself the moment Sergio gets too close. The defender quickly takes half a step back to get out of Messi’s personal space - he’s got no issues using his bigger frame to try and intimidate Messi during games, but this is different. “No, seriously, what? He - what, did he say you shouldn’t be captain or something?”
Messi crosses his arms, looking uncomfortable. No, scratch that, he looks mortified. “That’s - um, basically, yes. He didn’t think it would work if he was a mere player and I was… more. He said he didn’t want to get overshadowed by his own Omega and… Why am I telling you all this? I told this to nobody and you just - Shit.”
Now Messi looks almost angry. At himself? At Sergio? At both of them? Sergio doesn’t move. He’s frozen. Shocked. He never thought that Cris - he never thought that Messi -
“I really think you should go now.” Messi says, one hand straying up to his neck, to the spot where, on Sergio’s neck, Geri’s mating bite sits, big and proud. To the spot Messi’s own mating bite would be if Cris had -
“Wow.” Sergio breathes and stares at that spot.
Messi flinches and pulls up his jacket collar to cover his neck. He takes a step back, scowling, looking almost desperately uncomfortable. “Really, Sergio, you should just-”
Sergio ignores him completely and talks right over him: “Wow, Cris is an asshole. I mean, I knew he was conceited, that’s kind of obvious, but, like, really? He broke up with you because you’re team captain?! Okay, you’re not the best catch, you’re tiny and your beard is a tragedy, but I thought you guys had a good thing going. He was gushing so hard about his perfect little sweet Omega, I was expecting you to start dropping babies any second!”
Messi stares at him. “You - what? How - are you for real?”
“What?” Sergio glares. “I can’t give you a compliment? Just because I hate everything Barca doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate you on a professional level. You’re a pretty great footballer and I guess you’re a pretty good captain too. Not as good as me, obviously, but still.”
“Sergio.” Messi says slowly, staring at him with a weird expression on his face. Sergio stares back, not liking that expression. Messi looks like he just figured out something and no, Sergio does not like it.
“ What.” He says again, crossing his arms.
“Sergio. Have you suddenly decided to like me just because you found out Cris didn’t want me to be captain?”
“What?!” Sergio uncrosses his arms, then crosses them again. “Of course not. I don’t like you at all, you’re tiny and a jerk. I just also think Cris was being a complete dick! You just wait till I see him, I’m gonna tell him exactly what I think of that!” Sergio gives a low growl. “Really, I thought I had trained it out of him to think Omegas don’t deserve to get whatever we want! He should be glad he fucked off to Italy...”
Messi suddenly huffs out a laugh, sitting down on the couch again. He’s smiling all of a sudden, it’s weird. “I get it now.”
Sergio narrows his eyes in suspicion and shifts on his feet. Is he getting made fun of? “What are you talking about?”
Messi cranes his head back so he can look at Sergio (because he’s tiny! Sergio is way taller!) and smiles. “I get why Geri likes you.”
Sergio just stares, flabbergasted. Messi keeps smiling. Then -
“Would you like some more tea, Sergio?”
Sergio stares some more. Messi is still wearing that smile, that soft, slightly ironic, slightly rueful smile. Huh. Sergio can’t actually remember if Messi ever smiled at him before today. It’s… weird. Nice? Weird-nice.
“Yeah, okay.” He says and watches Messi pour fresh tea into his cup. What even happened just now? Did they just… bond? Eww. But okay, that’s probably not a bad thing. It’ll be good if Messi doesn’t hate Sergio’s guts, right? Means that the rest of Barca will have to learn to accept him too… and it will make Geri happy. Right? That’s a good thing. Yeah.
“I really hate mate, by the way.” Sergio says and takes his cup, feeling almost… content all of a sudden. Hey, this turned out great, didn’t it? He made Messi like him!
“Do you?” Messi’s smile turns a tiny bit wicked. “Well, sad for you. I don’t drink much else. You’re gonna have to get used to it, I think. You know, if you’re going to stick around.”
“Guess I’ll have to get used to it then.” Sergio says confidently and smiles. “‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”
Messi smiles ironically and raises his teacup in acceptance. Look at that, Sergio thinks, feeling very satisfied, mostly with himself. He totally won Messi over, didn’t he? Fuck yeah, Sergio won. He’s not sure how, but he won. He raises his teacup too and throws Messi a triumphant smile.
And okay, maybe mate isn’t that bad after all.
***
They spend a surprisingly pleasant hour where Sergio almost doesn’t insult Messi at all and Messi barely gets annoyed. They also made half a plan to watch Shaun of the Dead together and Sergio is seriously considering actually going through with it. Movie night with Messi? So weird. Sergio must have gone crazy… Even the mate no longer tastes like ass (it’s growing on Sergio) and Messi is actually not that bad to be around. Maybe he’s growing on Sergio too…
Like a fungus.
Okay, no. Messi’s not half bad. Not that Sergio is ever going to admit that to anyone…
Messi sees him to the door. “That was…”
“A complete success.” Sergio says with a cheerful and only somewhat challenging smirk. “Admit it, you love me now. Everybody does as soon as they get to know me.”
“I’d rather have fungus on my teeth than admit any such thing.”
“Aww! I was thinking about you like fungus too just now! See, we’re best friends already!”
Messi snorts and rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth are twitching. Sergio, clearly, is awesome. “Dream on, Ramos.”
Sergio just winks at him. “Love you too.”
“Get out before anyone sees who I spend my time with and thinks I’ve gone crazy.” Messi says exasperatedly and opens the door. “Hey, uh. Sergio. What are you going to tell Geri?”
Sergio zips up his jacket and frowns. “Huh? About tonight? Yeah, like I’m ever gonna admit I actually had fun with you of all people or some shit like that. You better keep your trap shut too or I’ll break your ankle in the next Clásico.”
Messi just stares at him in exasperation. Oh, right, that. Sergio pats his head in as condescending a manner as he can, but his smile is sincere. “I’m not gonna say a damn thing about you and Cris, don’t worry. Even if I still think it’s weird you didn’t tell Geri, what with you being best friends and all, but hey, I’m not judging. We Omegas gotta stick together against all these cocky asshole Alphas, right? Can’t let them think they can rule our world.”
“You’re doing a damn good job with the cocky asshole bit too.” Messi mutters.
“What was that?” Sergio asks sweetly.
Messi shoves him through the door. “Nothing. Get out of my face. Don’t forget to bring that DVD for movie night or I’ll score a hattrick against you so fast your eyes are gonna fall out.”
“Dream on, little man!” Sergio says cheerfully. “You’re not going to-”
Messi closes the door in his face before he can finish the sentence. Sergio huffs, amused. That’s the only way Messi could ever get the last word and he knew it!
He walks down the front steps and towards his car, smiling to himself. Today wasn’t so bad, was it? Geri will be happy to hear it went well. Then again… Hmm. Why tell him at all? Wouldn’t it be more fun to let him stew a little? Not tell him a damn thing about anything and let him wonder about what went down? That’d be fun…
Sergio’s cellphone has sixteen messages waiting for him. One is from Marcelo and consists only of a string of poop emojis. The other fifteen are from Geri, all with variations of ‘how are things going’ and ‘what are you guys up to’. Sergio scrolls through the messages and smiles, already picturing Geri getting more and more annoyed the longer Sergio refuses to tell him anything about his tea date with Messi. Oh yeah… this is going to be fun.