HimawariBlue
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His throat closed around the words, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He fought back as hard as he could, but the alcohol made it difficult, and Ferran made it impossible. Because whatever it was that had settled in his stomach had consumed him, and a small, ugly part of it had surfaced tonight to torment them both.
"Because I wanted you to look at me," Pedri spat out at the end. "Because that's how you look at me. You shouldn't look at anyone else like that."
Or
Ferran transfers to Barcelona, eager for a fresh start. Meanwhile, Pedri returns to training after months of nursing a serious injury. When their paths cross, their first meeting looks more like a car crash than the beginning of a partnership. But as they spend more and more time together, the lines between hatred and desire begin to blur. -
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A mediados del 2026, Ferran parte para el PSG sin decirle a nadie, más que a su mejor amigo. En un traspaso cuestionable, muchas personas cercanas a él quedan dolidas, en especial cierto canario.
Pedri tiene que encontrar la forma de continuar su vida sin su mejor amigo, pero se empieza a cuestionar si verdaderamente eran solo amigos, o algo más difícil de nombrar...
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After Ferran left for PSG, Pedri's life continues pretty much the same: the same club he loves, the same routine, the same friends. The world did not stop. It just became colorless. He has to face feelings he never dared to admit to himself. He has to make a decision.
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From group stage to the finales, Pedri and Ferran travel from being best friends to lovers. But it is not as easy as it sounds.
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Ferran Torres arrives at PSG with a World Cup-winning goal, shaky French, and a convenient habit of blaming his teasing on vocabulary mistakes.
Désiré Doué has two Champions League titles, a well-documented tendency to dribble fifteen times before shooting and, in theory, enough common sense not to answer when he knows exactly what Ferran is implying.
Or: Désiré is convinced nothing is happening between them. A conviction that survives an alarming number of late-night DMs, until he finally has to admit that Ferran’s French was never the real problem.