Title: This Hand I Hold
Word Count: ~600
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys. I'm pretty sure that's illegal.
Pairings: Mesut Özil/Cristiano Ronaldo
Summary: Mesut goes to see Cristiano one last time.
A/N: Just me letting out my frustration over this Mesut transfer and the loss of another active OTP.
Mesut finds Cristiano outside, sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water. There’s a glass next to the baby monitor on Cristiano’s right and Mesut’s heart rate quickens. He doesn’t know if he could forgive himself, if he caused Cristiano to drink. He inhales deeply, hoping to gain some confidence, and takes off his sneakers and socks by the door. He grips the key in his hand tightly and goes over to Cristiano, who doesn’t even turn as Mesut sits down next to him, as close as he can without daring to touch him.
They sit in silence. Cristiano’s face is serious, jaw clenched as he stares across the pool. Mesut watches him, looking down into the pool when it becomes too much and goes over the bright lights under the water with his eyes. His mind recalls their argument over the phone. He recalls the anger in Cristiano’s voice and how much it hurt when Cristiano questioned his feelings for him. He knows Cristiano was only reacting to his own pain, but it still hurts, especially when he wonders if Cristiano is right.
Mesut fidgets in the uncomfortable silence and decides to break it himself.
“I thought I should return this,” Mesut says, holding out the key in front of Cristiano.
Cristiano finally looks at him, expression a mixture of surprise and pain. “I,” he begins but stops and turns away from Mesut once again. “Keep it.”
Mesut nods and leaves the key out for another moment, in case Cristiano changes his mind, then closes his fist around. Cristiano’s breath was sweet and void of any alcohol. Mesut’s feels a knot unwind in his stomach.
Cristiano inhales and exhales loudly. “I’m sorry. For getting angry. I understand. I just—I don’t want you to leave. It’s selfish, but it hurts to think that you won’t be here with me.”
“It hurts for me too,” Mesut says, softly, “But there’s no alternative.”
They grow silent once more, but it’s no longer filled with the tension of earlier. Just an understanding that’s both comforting and saddening. Mesut is tired. He’s been tired for a while, but only now does he feel that he’s allowed to be. Cristiano seems to sense it. He stands and offers Mesut his hand.
“Let’s go inside.”
Mesut takes his feet out of the pool and allows Cristiano to help him up. His hand is cool, but Mesut grips it gratefully, still holding on after he’s standing. He looks up at Cristiano, whose face is more relaxed now, and smiles at him slightly. Cristiano returns it and doesn’t complain when Mesut doesn’t let go, even though they can’t move like this. Mesut just wants to take it in. This last time that he’ll see Cristiano for a long while. He knows he can probably do it better in the house, instead of in the low light of outside, but he tells himself it’s just in case.
“Are we going to stand here all night? Because time is going and there’s a lot I still want to do to you,” Cristiano says.
The easy smile Cristiano gives him brings a smile to Mesut’s own face. He releases Cristiano’s hand reluctantly. He’ll miss this: the ability for Cristiano to make him smile so simply. He watches Cristiano pick up his glass and tuck the baby monitor under his arm. Cristiano holds out his free hand to Mesut.
“You seemed really interested in holding hands before,” Cristiano says, gesturing for Mesut to take his hand.
Mesut laughs and already feels a wave of nostalgia as he takes the hand and allows Cristiano to pull him inside.