It's Back Again! Chapter 35.

[tempered-rose.livejournal.com]

Title: The Eternal Heartache, Chapter 35 of ???
Characters (this part only): Cesc Fabregas, Vicente Rodriguez; Mentions: Sergio Ramos, David Villa, Raul Gonzalez/Pep Guardiola, Iker Casillas, Gerard Pique, Bojan Krkic/Lionel Messi implied
Rating: PG-13 this part
Words: this part: 2,288; overall total: 86,660
A/N: Dedicated this time around for spartan_muse because she kindly nudged me to get on with an update earlier ;)

Story Announcement (A/N part 2): I realize my updates have been really slow for the past few months, but there’s several good reasons for that. Number one, I’ve been finishing school. I’ve been having some personal issues. And lastly, and perhaps most importantly, because this story is rounding the finish line. The last chapter will be coming soon and I haven’t wanted to say goodbye to this thing yet. It’s been almost two years since it started and I’ve gained many readers, and friends, from this story. I thank you all for that. This story is the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I’m sure it’ll get bigger before it’s done. But I just want you to know, that if you’ve read this story from the beginning or started afterwards, I thank you for reading it. The ending is coming soon I just want you guys to be prepared for it. I’m thinking that it will be another 5 chapters at the most before it is done. Thank you all, really and truly, from the bottom of my heart for reading this and giving it so much attention. You’ve got no idea how much that means to me.



Last part here. All previous parts listed here.


The dark blue depths of the Mediterranean surrounded them entirely. It seemed like an endless carpet of variations of the color that stretched on for miles and miles. No matter where you would look, another shimmer of blue would take the place of the one you had just seen; it was an endless performance of changing colors.

The sun was high above in the sky and burned white-hot. It was not an overly hot day, but it still was rather uncomfortable to be out in the sun with bare skin. The risk for receiving a sunburn for too many hours unprotected under its rays was too great to chance it.

Breaking the expanse of alternating cerulean waves was a small white sailboat. It wasn’t tiny, such as a boat that required oars, but it was very much like an insect compared to the large yachts that frequently patrolled the coasts of Spain’s many beaches. The sail was cream colored with a navy anchor and the Rodriguez family crest embroidered in the middle of it. The boat itself was called the Tempesta Corredor, the Tempest Runner.

Lounging shirtless on the deck, two boys covered in sunscreen, just as a precaution against the sun, wore sunglasses and talked quietly amongst themselves while enjoying the warmth of the day and the peace of the moment. They were lulled into conversation in soft tones by the way the waves lapped at the sides of the boat.

Barcelona was far behind them, but not far enough to have raised concern. They were drifting at the moment, sailed far off shore by Vicente. As promised, he had turned out to be quite the expert sailor. Cesc had been very impressed by his talents. They had reached a point several miles off the coast and then Vicente had dropped the sail so that they drifted in the current. From here, Barcelona was still recognizable, but it wasn’t up close and personal anymore. It would have been the perfect view for a postcard, they had both decided privately.

It wasn’t every day, after all, where you could spend the time doing absolutely nothing at all. It was a nice feeling, Cesc thought, when you could be surrounded by the most amazing view one could ever ask for and have absolutely nothing to worry about. At least, he guessed, that’s what most people did when they were in the middle of the ocean. For him, it was harder to forget. But as much as his worries tried to interrupt the peace of the moment, Vicente’s calming presence helped ease the monsters in his head into silence.

Spread across the white fiberglass deck was the remainder of their lunch. They had had an assortment of dishes to choose from, ones that Cesc wouldn’t have necessarily picked himself because they didn’t seem ‘casual’ enough for lunch. In fact, they seemed liked part of Raul’s lunch menu at the Amor Eterno. Not that he was complaining, of course, just that it didn’t seem casual enough for a picnic.

Their conversation lapsed into silence after talking about Bojan’s success with Sergio’s band. Cesc was proud of his brother for making friends and letting his talents be used in their new home. The amount of pride and affection he had for Bojan was evident in his tone and expression; Vicente had smiled when he had seen it.

“Cesc, what’s bothering you?” Chente asked after several moments’ silence.

“What do you mean?” Cesc asked, immediately feeling defensive.

Vicente shifted around so that he was now leaning on his elbow and looked over at Cesc.

“Please, please don’t take this the wrong way Cesc. I think you’re a really great guy, an excellent friend, and a damn good brother. I mean, anybody with a pair of eyes can see that.”

“But?” He interrupted shortly, causing Vicente to swallow nervously.

“It’s just that, well, you’ve changed a little bit in the past few months. At the beginning of term you were more than a little reserved, and I get that, but for a while there you had lightened up and were smiling a bit more. Lately, you’ve been giving Villa a run for his money in the brooding look department.”

Cesc sat up and crossed his arms over his chest. The defenses he had were taking over and he was gearing himself up for a fight. He didn’t talk about his problems with anyone apart from Bojan, and very few instances Raul or Pep. Why did Chente think he was so damn special?

Vicente sat up as well and held up his hands as a gesture of peace.

“Please don’t take that badly Cesc. I’m just wondering what is going on. I’m your friend, I care about you. A lot,” he added for good measure.

“Why?” Cesc asked. He knew it sounded a little childish, but he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t that great of a person, he just did things to survive. Why did Vicente like him? Cesc realized after half a second’s thought that he had never asked Vicente that. Why did one of the most popular boys in school befriend him? “Why do you?”

Chente shifted a little bit awkwardly and adjusted his sunglasses.

“You’re a good person. You look after your brother, your friends. You don’t take any shit from anyone. You’re a really nice guy; you’re funny. You’re just a really wonderful person to be around and I like you, a lot.” Chente shrugged a shoulder and waited for Cesc to say something.

Cesc tried to see his eyes, but he couldn’t due to the dark lenses.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you.” Cesc replied after a moment. “I just don’t like to talk about what bothers me.”

Vicente nodded. “I have noticed that. But I’m always here, and willing, to listen. I would like to help you if I can. Anything you share with me stays with me, you know that, right?” Cesc nodded reluctantly. “I just want to help you, Cesc.”

He listened to the patient, warm tone that Vicente used. He saw the way Vicente’s hand was laid half-way across the expanse of white deck between them, open, inviting even.

Cesc thought about Vicente and his relationship for a minute and he couldn’t help but feel that Chente had been a good friend to him. He had been there for a lot of things. He had even apologized when he had messed up in some way. He was a warm person, someone that Cesc really liked. As a friend.

Cesc was mentally stuck on that point. As a friend. To him, it was a very important distinction. While yes, Vicente was the best guy he had ever met, and fortunately had become friends with, he wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship with him. He just really hoped Vicente knew that.

He cleared his throat and shifted a little bit. He figured that since they were alone in the middle of the sea there really wouldn’t be any harm of anyone overhearing. Besides, Vicente didn’t seem like the type of guy that would just share his friend’s secrets behind their backs.

“If you…if you had a secret Vicente, one you could absolutely not tell anyone else ever, not even your own brother, would you still tell someone?”

Cesc looked up, checking for Vicente’s reaction. He had bowed his head and, Cesc assumed, was looking at the hand that was in his lap. After only a few second’s thought, he looked back up again and Cesc could tell even through the sunglasses that he was looking directly into his eyes.

“If it was someone I trusted, yes.”

Cesc nodded slowly and licked his lips. He hadn’t told anyone about Iker. Not even Bojan or his Uncle. He felt bad for his omission, but he couldn’t risk their judgment, or trying to get him to stop or see reason, about Iker. Though, after he thought about it, maybe he should have to have spared himself some of the pain.

But Vicente was safe, wasn’t he? He wouldn’t run off and tell someone, would he?

“If I tell you,” Cesc shifted awkwardly, the nerves rising within him, “you can’t tell anyone. No one.”

“What happened Cesc?” Vicente asked, curiosity mixed flawlessly with concern. “What is it that is bothering you?”

Cesc released a long, slow breath. And then he began to speak.

“I’ve been seeing someone, a man.” He saw surprise cross Vicente’s face and he pushed forward quickly. “He’s older than me, by…well, a lot.”

“Not a student?” Vicente asked for clarification.

Cesc shook his head. “No. He hasn’t been one for quite some time. He’s twenty-eight.”

Vicente’s mouth dropped open a little bit. He had to clear his throat and scramble to regain his composure.

“I can see why that’s been bothering you,” he started, voice a little bit higher than it had been a moment before.

Cesc swallowed. Since he’d started, he may as well finish. “That’s not the worst of it. You see, he’s engaged. To a woman.” He saw Vicente’s frown. He was quick to rationalize. “It’s all part of his father’s rules. Apparently they are quite well off, and Ik--he well be disinherited if he doesn’t marry this woman.”

“But he still won’t stop seeing you?” Vicente asked. When Cesc nodded, Chente sighed. “How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t like it,” Cesc said automatically, before his brain could really think about the question. His mind raced to come up with an explanation. “I mean, I don’t want him to be disinherited, but…at the same time, I wish he wouldn’t marry her.”

“Do you love him?”

The question was posed and Cesc hesitated. It was the first time someone other than him had asked it. And Vicente hadn’t been quiet about it either. He had asked plainly as if he had been asking about what color shirt he should wear tomorrow, or what Cesc thought about him getting a puppy for his birthday. Cesc liked his directness.

“I…I don’t think so,” he admitted. “I think I might have once, but…I really don’t know. I’m only eighteen now. Do I really know what love even is?”

Vicente smiled faintly. “At least you’re smart enough to recognize that.”

“I don’t love him, but there is something there, some kind of connection that I can’t explain.”

Vicente shifted a little closer, but still enough to keep some distance between them.

“Cesc, I’m only eighteen as well, and I can tell you, I don’t know everything. I’ve never been in love before either. But I’ve seen it. And no, I’m not talking about what Gerard tells his newest girlfriend’s. You see it every day, too. Think about your Uncle with Raul. They’re in love and they act like it. You love your brother. Pep and Raul both love you. That’s a great a love as any, anyone can admit that. Is that the connection you have with this guy?”

For whatever reason, Vicente’s probing question had a very simple answer.

“No.” Cesc’s tone reflected his startled thoughts. Vicente interrupted again, softly.

“Do you want that kind of connection with him?”

Cesc found himself shaking his head. He couldn’t fully process it, he would do that later, but what Vicente was saying was making sense. He had thought some of these things himself, but he guessed he needed to hear someone else say them aloud.

“Then you don’t have to let him influence you. You don’t have to let him do anything. If you don’t love him, if you don’t want to love him like that, then don’t. Call it quits and leave it all behind.”

Cesc swallowed hard and let Vicente’s words sink in.

He had thought many times about just walking away, never going back to Iker at all, but something always stopped him. Something always told him in the back of his mind that he would never be strong enough to just step away, that he would always need Iker to fulfill his wishes.

But he was stronger than that. He had proven that to himself, to everyone, many times. He was strong enough to walk away and keep walking. He could do it.

“Chente can we go back to shore now? I’d like to go home.”

Vicente’s eyebrows drew together, but he shifted to make the sail ready.

“Thank you, for what you said. You’ve helped me out a lot today.” Cesc said a minute later, earning a fabulous Vicente smile.

“I’m glad Cesc, I really am.”

“I’m thinking that maybe I should have just told you some of this from the beginning. It would have saved a lot of restless nights.”

Vicente grinned. “The magic of the sea, and my own personal powers, can fix anything. Just give me some time and the Tempesta Corredor and we can solve any problem you put to us.”

Cesc found himself grinning along as he helped Vicente get the sailboat ready to go towards shore.

“So, you think your brother and Leo finally hooked up yet?”


As Cesc and Vicente teased one another and their friends, particularly Bojan and Leo, something inside of Cesc changed. Gone was the apprehension that had been in his mind, his stomach, his heart. It seemed that the fog that had been residing there had dissipated, the sun had finally come out and cleared it all away. The confusion, the doubts, all of it was gone.

It seemed that the steel bond that Cesc had thought existed between him and Iker was nothing more than a half-taut piece of string. And for the first time since he had realized its existence, that string was beginning to fray at the ends.