This one is happier!

[tempered-rose.livejournal.com]

Title: The Eternal Heartache, Chapter Three of ???
Characters (in this part): Cesc Fabregas, Bojan Krkic, Pep Guardiola, Raul Gonzalez
Rating: PG-13 {eventually it’ll get to be NC-17}
Words: 2863
A/N: Thank you thank you thank you to my readers from the last two parts <3 All of you I love dearly =-) <3 Huge thanks especially to nicole811 and notsostrange because without your support, this probably wouldn’t be written. =-) Thank you lovelies!!! As for this chapter, I encoded a video of the chapter song to listen too. Why? Because I’m a dork and think that music goes with stories. *hides*



One | Two

As the steep hills of the north begin their sloping downward descent to the sea, a sleek silver snake winds its way through the yellow fields and green hills. Trees occasionally make blips on the otherwise open scenery. The bluest of blue skies with puffy white clouds much like cotton balls stretch as far as the eye can see and meet the landscape to kiss on Earth’s horizon.

There are very few times in his life that Cesc has ever been as wide-eyed as Bojan, the view out the train window as it moves through Catalonia is one of them.

The first of his recollections on this subject is that one Christmas, the one before their father died. Cesc had been asleep, dreaming of sugar plum fairies and toy soldiers thanks to having watched The Nutcracker before bed with Bojan, when he had been roused suddenly and without warning. Bojan was giddy, a Bojan that rarely ever came to the surface.

Cesc had smiled at the ease in which Bojanito giggled and shared his enthusiasm. The five-year-old Bojan had practically pulled Cesc from the bed, both in their pajamas, and had dragged him to the living room. Cesc saw at once what had made Bojan so happy—a big red bicycle. Their father had walked in and had shared in their joy, telling them that it was a present from San Nicolás. It had been cold that year, colder than usual. Because of that, to Bojan’s dismay, he could not try out the bicycle just yet. He would have to wait till the ice was gone on the roads before their father would permit them to try it out.

From the corner of the room, a soon-to-be-teenaged Cristiano watched with great jealousy as their father pampered them with affection. He rubbed their hair, smiled at them, and even had gotten them a bicycle. All he had received from his father as a present was a stupid football.

Cesc remembered clearly as Cristiano had jerked the bicycle out of Bojan’s hands and had gone for a ride—despite Bojan’s pleas and their father’s order to return it back to them. Cristiano had found a patch of ice and had skidded, the brand-new bicycle finding itself impaled in a tree; Cristiano was on the ground nursing a scraped leg. Bojan’s eyes had filled with tears that spilled over and ran in salty tears. Cesc had hugged him tightly to his small chest as their father went to see the damage to the bicycle, shaking his head at Cris as he walked by him.

“What are you thinking about?” Bojan asks and Cesc snaps back to the present. He looks at the boy beside him on the seat of the train.

“The Christmas before papa died.” Cesc used to think that he shouldn’t tell Bojan about all the thoughts he had because it made Bojan sad. Then Cesc cancelled that option out because it would require lying to him and Cesc couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that. Bojan nods sadly and looks back out the window at the rapidly passing hills. Cesc wonders if he sees the landscape or if he is looking into the past and sees the mangled bicycle.

“Do you think Uncle Pep will like us?” Bojan whispers, wide brown eyes turning to look at Cesc and blink rapidly at him.

To be brutally honest, Cesc wasn’t sure. He could only vaguely recall the one time he had met him; Bojan had not even been born yet. Cesc had only been three but vaguely remembered the man talking to his father as the small Cesc hid behind his Papa’s leg. That had been early in the summer, Cesc remembered because it wasn’t long after his birthday and then Bojan had been born at the end of August. He found it funny that he could remember more about the when rather than the who.

“I do not know Bojan, I truly do not know.” Cesc replied and squeezed Bojan’s hand. He just prayed that Pep was different than Maria in every single way imaginable.

They passed the rest of their journey in awed silence, both gawking at the land that flashed by. They had packed sandwiches for lunch and had consumed them as they stared out the window. They had never been anywhere outside that village before and had only dreamed of visiting the great Barcelona.

From when they were children, they had heard great tales of the wonders of Barcelona from the lucky few who had gotten out of the village to see things. Some had come back weary, almost fearful of the city. But most, the small children whose parents’ parents lived in the great city, who returned were amazed with it and longed to return. Cesc had been jealous of them; he had heard great tales of the legendary Comp Nou, the strangely unique architecture, and the city that was the absolute pride of the Catalan people. He wanted to see them for himself, to experience the lifestyle that came with the fact that you were from the city.

As the city came closer with every passing second, their anticipation rose higher. They were anxious from not knowing how they would be treated when they arrived, where they would sleep, how they would be taken care of, or anything else about their uncle. They had only seen two pictures of him in their lives; that is how they even knew they had an Uncle Josep.

The closer to the city the train got, the more buildings started to appear. Excitement built to a fever point as Cesc and Bojan pressed their faces against the window as they rounded one final hill and then the great Barcelona was stretched before them. The city rose out of hills it and it seemed to caress the natural landscape. It seemed as though the city had been built to accommodate the natural landscape, rather than try and change it to shape it the way that was wanted.

As the train came further into the city, the boys’ noses were pressed even closer to the glass. The great iron beast’s speed decreased until it cruised through the city on its way to Estació de Sants*. The train traveled through the heart of the city, under hundreds of city blocks full of history and art and life in general. They traveled underground for lord knew how long before the train’s speed slowed even more.

The train came to rest underneath but safely inside the Estació de Sants. As soon as a completely safe stop was secured and it was okay to do so, people began to get up and collect their belongings. Cesc and Bojan pried themselves away from looking inside the station at the people passing by. They grabbed their suitcases, one for the each of them, and waited in line to get off the train.

They had instructions to get off the train at their platform and they were to carefully proceed to the north entrance where they would be met by their Uncle and his friend. Cesc watched out for Bojan as he always had done as they started looking for signs to the north entrance. They made their way up and were greeted with the overwhelming sight of hundreds of people going and coming all over the place to go meet their trains. Cesc thought the task of finding their uncle and his friend based off a photo of just their uncle would be impossible.

However, it seemed that they were being waited for as they heard their names being called in an unfamiliar voice. Cesc and Bojan turned to see two men of almost equal size head in their direction. Cesc saw the same contours of the face in the photograph in one of the men that approached them now, but the face was older and had more lines.

When two became four, each pair studied the other for a moment in silence. Then, as if to break the awkwardness of the situation, the man who was their uncle stuck his hand out at Cesc. “Cesc, I presume?”

Cesc nodded warily and shook the man’s hand. It was firm and warm, but a completely different kind of firm than what he was used to at home. The man, Pep, Uncle Pep?, had kind eyes and his face was gentler, kinder and he had a calming presence about him. Calm, a feeling Cesc wasn’t even sure he even knew what it felt like.

“Hi. I am your Uncle Pep.” He smiled at Cesc and then at Bojan. He looked at Bojan and addressed him. “And you must be Bojan…?” Bojan shyly nodded, blushing furiously. Pep smiled at him, causing Bojan to blush even more. “I’m glad you both are finally here. You both must be starving, how about some lunch?”

Cesc and Bojan just gaped at him, much the same way a fish looks before it is caught. Was he seriously taking them to lunch, voluntarily? Pep saw their reaction and immediately backtracked over what he had said. They must have been more traumatized than I realized, he thought to himself as his eyes took in their appearance—worn clothing that was far too big on them, especially on Bojan, and he could only guess at how thin they were underneath the large clothing.

“It’s all right. We don’t have to do that if you wouldn’t like it. I understand it will take some time to get used too.” Pep apologized and tried to catch Raul’s eye. His lover, however, was looking at them curiously. Pep followed his eyes and saw what Raul had.

Pep lifted his hand and gently took Bojan’s arm in his grasp. He did not miss Cesc stiffen and felt his eyes on him immediately. Pep looked at the injury with a firmly clamped jaw and shook his head. His eyes locked with Bojan’s as he spoke. “This will not happen here. You have my word.” He looked at Cesc too and allowed the older of the two to look into his eyes and see the honesty.

Cesc weighed the sincerity of the words and the seemingly innocent eyes and then nodded. “Lunch would be okay, if it’s not a problem. We don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

Pep smiled at Cesc. “It is no problem at all. I hope you both are hungry, I know a great place for lunch right beside the stadium.”

Bojan and Cesc perked up at that and their eyes sparkled as Bojan asked, “the Comp Nou?”

Well, they already had one thing in common, Pep thought as he grinned. “In Barcelona my boy, is there any other stadium?”

Cesc’s eyes kept drifting over to the Comp Nou from where they sat on the terrace of a café. While conversation had been awkward at first and jerky to get started, the subject of football had loosened everyone up. Cesc had been surprised when Raul confessed that he was a Real fan. Bojan and Cesc had just stared at him while Pep laughed, telling them that he was trying hard to convert him.

Cesc picked up on the intense familiarity that the two men had. Bojan sensed it, he could tell, but he wasn’t sure if Bojan fully understood what Cesc thought they were. Not that Cesc minded that… He may be a good Catholic boy; he still could not help his feelings. He would still hide that part of himself away from the world; the one thing he did not need in this world were more problems.

The waiter brought the check after the end of the meal—a big lunch including an appetizer and dessert—and Cesc rubbed his full stomach. He had not eaten that much since the Christmas dinner three years ago that the village had had. It, like most things, had not ended well thanks to the fact that Cris had thrown another tantrum about the boys being better guests than he was.

“Did you enjoy your lunch?” Pep asks as he puts enough bills to cover the meal and the tip in the little black book that held the check.

Bojan and Cesc stare at the amount of money, more than they had ever seen in one place at the same time, that Pep had put into the book. Raul cleared his throat and the two shared a look and then looked at the boys.

“So…shall we go home?” Pep asked trying to break the silence that had fallen over the table again. Bojan and Cesc seemed to snap out of their haze and looked at their uncle. They nodded; Pep confirmed with a nod of his own and the party left the terrace café.


They rode in a luxury town car to an unknown destination, at least for the boys, through all the passeigs until they came to a stop outside one of the old stucco apartment buildings. From the look of it, Cesc and Bojan’s uncle lived in the richer section of town. They took in the well-kept building and wondered what the inside looked like. If the outside looked this good, then they could only imagine what the inside looked like.

Pep and Raul hearded the boys off the street and into the apartment.

Cesc swore and the apologized as soon as he stepped inside. Even Bojan thought a curse word, but did not say it, at the sight before them.

“This…this is your house?” Bojan asked, absolutely incredulous. Raul chuckled in his throat as he walked past them, carrying their suitcases upstairs.

“Do you not like it?” Pep asked, worried. It would be terribly inconvenient but they could move if the boys absolutely hated it.

“It’s…it’s….” Bojan struggled for words.

“Incredible.” Bojan and Cesc said at the same time, in the same awed voice.

Pep smiled brilliantly. “It is not used to having children around, but we will try to make it work, no? Come on upstairs, I will show you to your room.”

Pep stood at the foot of the stairs and waited for the awe-struck teenagers to start up them ahead of him. “I apologize that you will have to share a room. However it is fairly large and you each have your own closet so, I hope it won’t be too inconvenient for you.” Pep explained on his way up the stairs.

Cesc stopped once he reached the landing. “You are kidding, right? This is perfect.”

Cesc seemed like he wanted to do something but wasn’t sure what was allowed. Pep smiled fondly. It would be nice having them around. He rested a hand on Cesc’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure it stays perfect.”

Pep shared another look with the boys and then they started down the hallway. When they reached their room, Pep hesitated. This was Raul’s idea…if it failed, he could always blame him… Pep opened the door and saw that indeed the banner was raised. Raul stood off in the corner, admiring his handiwork, when the door opened. He moved to Pep’s side as soon as the boys came in.

Cesc and Bojan stared up at the red and blue banner that said ‘welcome’ and their names were printed on it. It was only after they had recovered from that did they notice the two beds in the room along with the two closets. The room was nicely furnished, nicer than anything they had at home.

“Th-thank you.” Bojan gasped as he looked at his uncle.

“You’re welcome Bojan.” Pep nodded and smiled again. Cesc looked over and nodded his appreciation; he couldn’t quite form words because he was overcome with emotion.

“We’ll let you two get settled.” Raul said and then headed out into the hallway, waiting for Pep on the landing. Pep bowed out gracefully and followed after Raul.

“I’m going to go…” Raul whispered as they walked down the stairs.

“What? Why?” Pep asked softly.

Raul chuckled. “You need some time to get to know your nephews. Alone. The three of you have a lot of learning to get used too.”

Pep nodded; Raul was, again, right. Pep leaned over Raul until the younger man was against the wall. “I’ll miss you…”

Raul leaned forward and kissed Pep deeply. When he pulled back, he had a grin on his face. “You’ll see me tomorrow darling. Remember how badly you cook? Speaking of, there is a lasagna in the oven, take it out in about,” Raul consulted his watch, “an hour. Do not let it burn.”

“Yes dear.” Pep enjoyed these moments.

“Bye love.” Raul kissed Pep once more before he walked out the door.

Pep shook his head at his lover’s grand exit. “Oh the things I have to deal with, loving a chef.”


Upstairs, Cesc and Bojan looked at each other and they both saw that the other was about to cry. They hugged each other tightly, never letting go. Cesc thought that this was going to be the beginning of a peaceful, quiet, and exciting life. And the best part was that Bojan and he finally managed to escape.


Estació de Sants* -- one of Barcelona’s metro stations.