это был чудесный фик, тык сюда автора носить на ручках
я б сказал, что это рек, но сомневаюсь, что кому-то оно надо, так что просто сохраню тут для истории
но да, фичок и горячий, и ржачный, и милый, с юмором у автора все отлично как и у пике , ну и нотка драмы, да, кажется автор тоже разделяет весь тлен и боль того, что пике завершил карьеру в сборной

A hand caught his wrist, and Sergio was very aware of Gerard’s body suddenly very close behind him. “Because you miss me,” the Barça player said in that same soft voice. “You miss me on international break, and you wanted to see me.”

“I don’t miss you.” Sergio’s voice came out just a little too breathlessly, and far too unconvincingly. Gerard’s other hand came up to rest gently on Sergio’s hip, drawing him backward until their bodies were touching, and Sergio couldn’t stop his breath from hitching slightly.

“I miss you too,” Gerard said, his voice low, his breath ghosting over the shell of Sergio’s ear and sending a shiver through the shorter man’s body.

ненавижу вас што ж вы делаете с моим сердешком я ведь тож скучаю((

ну и "капи оф май сол" я едва не разревелся как тварь

“I’m not your capi anymore,” Sergio grumbled. His heart was beating a little too fast and he had to force himself to look Gerard in the eye. He regretted it almost immediately. Those ridiculously blue eyes were watching him with a peculiar kind of warmth that Sergio didn’t think he had ever seen in them before.

“Capi of my soul?” Gerard suggested, his mouth quirking up into a small smile. And without warning, his hand dropped from Sergio’s neck to Sergio’s bare side, his fingers running along the line of text tattooed there.