meretricula: (messi's easy)
[personal profile] meretricula
So about a million years ago [livejournal.com profile] stickmarionette prompted me to do a Baby Dream Team fanmix on tumblr, and I promptly failed to do much of anything except vaguely think about suitably tragic song lyrics (sorry I'm the worst) until I was finally impelled by a nostalgic trip through my football tag and my intense Baby Dream Team Feels (tm) about the song Laughter Lines by Bastille to finish the mix and make a cover and even write a drabble to go along with it? This productivity feels very strange. Anyway, I hope you like/don't hate this, Lee! I'm very out of practice with everything, including feeling things. \o/

in the future, when we're older (fanmix here!)
“Well,” Cesc said. “I guess you already know what I’m going to say.”

“Daniella told Anto,” Leo said, annoyingly serene as always. “Also, Geri’s been throwing a tantrum for the last week, it was hard to miss.”

“Do you want to throw a tantrum?” Cesc asked, because he thought this was going pretty well but it was hard to tell with Leo sometimes. “It’s okay if you do,” he added. “Or if you don’t! Or, uh. Is it okay?”

“It’s football.” Leo shrugged. “I get it. You’re going to have an interesting time, though.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know you can.” Leo smiled suddenly, and the atmosphere in the room lightened to something bearable again. “You’ll keep them on their toes. Geri!” he called. “Quit sulking in the corner and get over here.”

Geri lumbered over, about as cheerful as a bear with a thorn in its paw, and Cesc suppressed a flare of uncharitable irritation that of course he came running when Leo wanted him. Under the circumstances, it was about what he deserved. “Are we doing this now?” Geri asked.

“Cheer up,” Leo said briskly. “Cesc’s going to England, not the moon. Summer house in Ibiza when we’re all retired, shake on it.”

“What?”

“Summer house in Ibiza. Antonela and Daniella already agreed, so shake on it,” Leo repeated. Geri started to laugh.

“We’re lucky you only like football, or I’d have competition for club president in twenty years,” he said. Ignoring Leo’s outstretched hand, he bent down to kiss both of his cheeks, and then both of Cesc’s. “Summer house in Ibiza, with a private beach. And a wine cellar. The kids are going to be teenagers, we're going to need one.”

“Deal,” Leo said immediately. “Cesc?”

Cesc shook his head, smiling. “I’m going to miss you, little monster. Guess it’ll be good to have something to look forward to. Summer house in Ibiza it is.”
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