Chapter Text
“Hi, Sergio!” as he walks into the flat, Beatriz smiles at him sweetly from where she’s stretched out on the couch with Andrés, his head in her lap. Sergio immediately feels like retching.
It’s not that he hates the girl, no, he just… can’t stand her.
“Hey,” he mutters, toeing off his shoes. Andrés sits up, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.
“How was school?” he asks and Sergio still wants to laugh at how much his half-brother is trying to play house sometimes.
“Normal.”
He doesn’t want to get into it; normal means that the teachers want to murder him for proving them wrong on a daily basis and his classmates all think he’s some kind of a freak.
He walks to the kitchen, where he finds Martín hunched over his notes. He looks up when he hears Sergio’s steps and grins when Sergio gestures towards the living room and rolls his eyes.
“Dinner’s on the stove,” Martín says, so Sergio goes to heat it up.
“A day off?” he asks.
“Yeah, I get to catch up on hours worth of studying,” Martín sighs. It’s one of the things that Sergio appreciates about him - he’s insanely smart and passionate about his studies. Andrés is smart too, of course, but he doesn’t really care that much about science, preferring arts and literature, and neither does he like institutional education, which made him drop out of highschool. Still, he insists on Sergio graduating. Bastard.
“What about tomorrow?” Sergio asks. He groans when Martín tells him he has an afternoon shift and Martín smirks, leaning back in his chair.
“Aw, Sergio, will you miss me? Are we friends now, finally?”
“Definitely not,” Sergio scrunches up his nose and turns towards the stove to pick up the stew and pour it into a bowl. Another good thing about Martín is that, contrary to Andrés, he’s never been rich. He makes do with cheap stuff and can whip out a dinner out of nothing. Andrés, before being disowned, has lived in luxury and he strives to live like that again; Martín, just like Sergio, has always been poor.
"What's with the exceptonally long face?" he asks, nibbling at his pencil.
Sergio takes a seat at the table and nods towards the living room.
“Oh, you can’t stand the lovebirds? Come on. They’re cute,” Martín says, shrugging.
“She’s trying to baby me, Martín,” Sergio hisses, gripping his spoon so hard it makes his knuckles go white. “Besides, she’s so-... moody. Shallow, too.”
“Beatriz is a wonderful girl,” Martín says calmly, looking down at his notes. It sounds like he’d said it a million times already, as if he’s almost bored of repeating it.
Sergio goes quiet and turns his attention towards the food. After a moment, they hear Andrés’ delighted laugh coming from the living room. Martín doesn’t look up when he speaks again.
“You can come over to the coffeeshop after school.”
To be honest, Sergio is extremely grateful.
In the morning, Sergio learns that Martín has an early class and Andrés has some meeting at 8, which Sergio doesn’t ask about because whatever Andrés is doing, it’s probably illegal. He fights tooth and nail until Andrés agrees to let him skip the first class of the day. He loves having the flat to himself, because it gets very crowded these days, so any chance to be left alone is worth taking.
He enjoys some light reading and a cup of coffee until it’s time to go; then, he notices that he has no clean shirts. Of course. It was Martín’s turn to do the laundry.
Sergio goes to steal one of Andrés’ shirts, then; his brother has so many of them that it doesn’t make any difference.
What does make a fucking difference, however, is when he finds a box with an engagement ring in the drawer in Andrés’ room.
Dalí's is quite crowded, as usual. It’s a pleasant enough crowd, though, the wooden chairs and benches filled mostly with students focused on their notes and laptops, pots with green leaved plants hanging over their heads and making the industrial space more cozy. Their tones are half-hushed, as if they were in a library. Along with the quiet music, the clicking of keyboards, the buzzing of the huge coffee machine and the rattling of cups against the saucers, they create an agreeable hum.
Sergio finds himself a place in the corner and leaves his backpack there, pulling out his wallet. He steps to the counter and Martín, dressed in a simple, black apron, gives him a toothy grin.
“Put the wallet away, my boss is paying even though he doesn’t know about it yet,” he says and Sergio rolls his eyes.
“You’ll get yourself fired one of these days.”
“That’s not happening, the staff loves me way too much for that. Isn’t that right, Mirko?” Martín calls over his shoulder and the big Serb turns around, a cup of cappuccino ridiculously small in his huge hand. He smiles fondly.
“Cheeky,” he says. “But for little Sergio, we can throw in a sandwich, too.”
Sergio can’t really get angry about being called little, because one: compared to Mirko, most people are; two: it’s impossible not to like the man. He’s like a huge teddy bear. Sergio is always amazed how he’s friends with Martín, who isn’t known to be the nicest person.
He accepts his cup of americano and a bagel, and goes to take a seat. Within minutes, he’s completely lost in his homework, although his mind keeps wandering back to the accursed ring hidden in the drawer.
In the late afternoon, Andrés’ voice cuts through the regular noise and Sergio raises his head to see his brother - alone, thank God - entering the coffeeshop. Martín immediately grins, leaning against the counter on his elbows and tilting his head to the side as Andrés approaches.
“Salvador, hazelnut and redcurrant notes? It came in earlier today.”
Andrés smiles, his gaze trailing over the coffee beans boxed and displayed on the counter.
“I trust your choice as always, Martín,” he drawls. Sergio notices that Mirko is rolling his eyes.
Martín reaches for Andrés’ money without looking away from him. Andrés looks around, sees Sergio and moves to take the seat opposite of him, waiting for his coffee. Soon, Martín joins them - he places the cup in front of Andrés and doesn’t bother to go back to work; instead, he puts his hand at the back of Andrés’ chair and starts chatting him up.
Sergio watches closely, suddenly intrigued, mostly due to Mirko’s earlier reaction. He’s never really paid much attention to their interactions, since dealing with the two of them together was often a pain in the ass; they did everything in their power to annoy Sergio.
Now, he sees how they mirror each other’s grins, how their eyes shine with delight at the mutual understanding; he notices how their voices become softer, quieter, only intended for the other’s ears, not for anyone else.
Sergio slips out of his seat and walks over to Mirko.
“Say,” he murmurs when Mirko turns to him with a smile. “Does Martín ever talk about my brother?”
“Does he ever talk about anything else?” Mirko raises his eyebrows at him and Sergio frowns.
“Do you mean it like-”
“Like he has a huge crush on him, yes. Ever since I’ve known him.”
“Haven’t you two been… having relations, though?” Sergio feels incredibly awkward for even posing such a question, but Mirko laughs easily.
“We’ve slept together a few times, yes, but not anymore. I have a boyfriend now anyway, and Martín is-... Well, you see how he is,” there’s a hint of worry in Mirko’s voice now, as his eyes flicker to Martín, who’s still ignoring all of his responsibilities in favor of talking to Andrés, his ass on the table which surely would get him into trouble if his boss were there.
“Did he ever tell him?” Sergio asks, frowning, his mind already running over the possible uses of that particular piece of information.
“No. Wasn’t your brother married when they’ve met?”
Sergio scowls, remembering Andrés’ first marriage at the ripe, old age of twenty fucking one years old. Sergio was never particularly fond of Clara, he didn’t like having a third person around in the flat. Besides, he was fifteen back then, and Andrés was his only family, and he didn’t want to share, especially with someone like Clara who ended up breaking his brother’s heart.
Andrés wallowed in self-pity for weeks, bitter and angry and sad. Sergio couldn’t stand seeing him that way, all because of some stupid romance. He would never admit it out loud, but when Martín appeared in Andrés’ life just then, a part of Sergio was grateful for him, for his jokes and energy that finally made Andrés laugh again.
“He was newly divorced, yes,” Sergio says and bites his lips at the thought of Andrés getting married again. The problem with all of his girlfriends was always the fact that Andrés treated them like possessions, and often chose them based on looks and charm, instead of their actual personality. It wasn’t surprising that his relationships ended in disaster.
With Martín, however…
Andrés has other friends, sure, he’s always had some, say, acquaintances. But Martín seems to be the only constant in his life, besides Sergio. He’s someone Andrés has been seeing almost on a daily basis even for the two months before he’d moved in. And Andrés always seems so at ease around him, and he smiles so much.
Sergio doesn’t know much about love and he definitely doesn’t know anything about his brother’s actual preferences, but as he stares at them, he thinks that this might be worth a shot.
“Sergio?” Mirko puts a hand on his shoulder and he startles, blinking rapidly as he looks at the man. “What are you thinking about?”
“... nothing,” he says, but he can’t keep a small smile off his face, his fingers itching to get into writing down the ideas bubbling in his head. “Thanks for the talk.”
He goes back to sit down and both Andrés and Martín turn to look at him.
“What did you want from our lovely Mirko, hm, little Sergio?” Martín wiggles his eyebrows. Sergio doesn’t miss the look Andrés sends his best friend, something dark and guarded, a discomfort betrayed by a twitch of his lips. Interesting.
Before Sergio can come up with an answer, Beatriz walks into the coffeeshop and he has to suppress a disappointed groan as Andrés smiles at her. Martín slides off the table and gives the girl a kiss on the cheek as he passes her, going back to work because Beatriz immediately drapes herself over Andrés' lap and kisses him.
Sergio clears his throat.
"We're… in public," he mutters, making Beatriz giggle as she breaks the kiss and pulls away from his brother.
"I'm sorry, I was just missing my cariño so much," she says. "Shall we go, querido ? The movie starts in an hour, but we could grab something to eat beforehand."
Andrés nods, getting to his feet. Martín stares at them, gathering dirty dishes from the neighbouring table, but Andrés seems not to notice, one arm around his girl as the other waves them goodbye.
The door closes behind them and both Mirko and Sergio look at Martín, whose lips are curled downwards in quite a pitiful grimace.
"... or you could just eat here," he says into space and sighs, and Sergio decides that one: he must have been blind; two: Andrés most definitely is blind. But he can make it better.
He spends the rest of the afternoon typing away on his old, battered laptop, coming up with a plan to save Andrés from another heartbreak.
First, he's going to need to show him that him and Beatriz have virtually nothing in common, while also underlining everything that he has in common with Martín.
Second, he will have to find a way to make Andrés realize the mutual attraction that Sergio is 80% sure is there. Andrés has never expressed any attraction towards men besides admiring works of art and himself (so, in Andrés' mind, another work of art), but he does seem especially touchy when he's around Martín. Not being appreciative of the male physique himself, Sergio may need to ask for Mirko's help with this one. God, the lengths he's willing to go for his brother's sake.
The third step would be to put a wedge into Andrés' current relationship, to undermine it and, preferably, remove Beatriz from the picture at least for long enough to make Andrés understand that he's going to be better off without her, that if he wants true romance, Martín is right there, someone who actually won't leave him, who won't break his heart.
Because Sergio knows for sure that Martín cares for Andrés. Besides, they're basically a family already.
"Done with homework?" Martín asks and Sergio's head snaps upwards. He blinks and takes off his glasses to rub at his eyes, then takes a look through the window to see that the sun is setting. He hadn't noticed people leaving the coffeeshop, but it's almost empty now, save for a few marauders that hang behind, finishing up their work, drinking up the last drops of coffee that no human should be consuming at this hour.
"Are you closing?" he asks Martín and the man nods.
"Yeah, sleeping beauty, Mirko has already gone home. I'm closing in half an hour. You want to wait for me?"
"Sure," Sergio shrugs, saving the document file and closing the laptop. "Do you need any help?"
Martín gives him a warm smile, one that's reserved for him, Andrés and sometimes, Mirko. As Sergio stands up, he reaches to ruffle his hair - it's a funny looking gesture considering the fact that Sergio is taller than Martín, but it's an honest display of affection.
"You can take the dishes out of the dishwasher and wrap up the cutlery."
They work together in silence until the last person walks out of the coffeeshop. Martín goes to turn the sign on the door and then climbs onto a chair and fiddles with the stereo placed on one of the shelves behind the counter. Sergio flinches when the speakers start blasting Guns N' Roses.
Before he knows it, Martín jumps down from the chair and grabs his hands, pulling him out from behind the counter to dance with him. Now, Sergio knows the song, of course - Sweet Child O' Mine, what's with those shortened conjunctions and prepositions - but he doesn't know how to imitate Martín's dance moves, the way he moves his legs and nods his head. Martín notices his discomfort and laughs, giving him a short hug.
"Okay, okay, fine," he says, going to open the register and count the money. He does it quickly, humming along to the next song and Sergio watches him for a moment before going to the backroom for the broom to start sweeping the floors.
It takes them half an hour of cleaning before Martín clicks his tongue and says eh, that's bearable. They turn on the alarm and lock the doors, and take a bus back to the apartment.
When they walk in, they're welcomed by the sight of Andrés, shirtless, leaning over Beatriz, also shirtless, but thankfully in a bra, on their couch. Their couch in their living room, not Andrés' bed in Andrés' fucking bedroom.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Sergio groans, looking to the side while Beatriz laughs and Andrés straightens up.
"We must've lost the track of time," he explains smugly. Sergio glances at them. Beatriz doesn't even move to put her shirt back on. Instead, she pouts.
"You two could have waited," she says and Sergio's blood boils, that's their apartment, Martín is paying rent, too, and he doesn't deserve to be treated like a nuisance by one of Andrés' girls, and neither does Sergio.
Andrés only laughs at that. Sergio watches, shocked, as Martín schools his face into an easy smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Next time, let me know. Then, I'll take Sergio out on a date too, hm, Sergio?" he winks and laughs when Sergio scowls at him. Then, Martín disappears in his room.
"If you want to hook up, get a hotel room," Sergio snaps before he can stop himself and watches as Andrés' eyes widen and his fists clench. He doesn't get up, though - he wouldn't stand taller than Sergio anyway. Instead, Andrés stretches out on the couch even more, like a king in his own castle, sticking his chin out defiantly.
"If you want to keep the roof over your head, don't you dare talk to Beatriz like that," he says. Sergio knows it's not an empty threat - Andrés, as much as he loves Sergio, probably wouldn't hesitate to throw him out, even if just for a few days. Just to show him.
Beatriz smirks, snuggling closer to her boyfriend.
"Maybe he's just being a little teenage rebel. Look at Martín, he never complains like that," she tuts and Sergio wants to strangle her.
"Of course he doesn't," he spits and goes to his room, slamming the door behind himself. Teenage rebel, there you go.
Falling asleep, Sergio reassures himself with the thought that come Saturday, he'll begin the execution of his plan.
"So… they're opening this science fair," Sergio says casually during breakfast and Martín nearly falls out of his chair.
"I've read about it! Fuck, is it today?" he asks, suddenly fully awake and excited. Andrés laughs at him.
"Yes," Sergio nods. "I thought we could go. Andrés?"
His brother smiles down at him from where he's leaning against the counter, sipping on his coffee.
"If you want, sure. Beatriz is visiting her friend out of town, so I would be bored anyway."
Sergio knows that Beatriz is visiting her friend, only her friend doesn't know that yet, because it was Sergio who sent out the invitation. Oh, well.
"Good," he says. "The only problem is, we're going to look stupid, because someone here in this very room forgot to do the laundry again."
"Hey, Sergio?" Martín smiles sweetly. "Go fuck yourself."
Honestly, this is why Sergio prefers him over Beatriz. Or Clara, for that matter. He teases him often enough, but overall, he always treats Sergio like an equal; he's also one of the very few people that seems to understand, more or less, the kind of bond Andrés and Sergio share.
Both him and Martín end up in Andrés' shirts, since the man's closet is bottomless. Sergio quickly forgets about the discomfort of wearing his brother's awfully expensive - and a bit too short - clothing, he almost forgets about his plan, even, because the fair is nothing short of amazing. Fun, Sergio would even say if he had any idea what the word is supposed to mean.
He nearly forgets about the plan, but then again, it's going smoothly. Andrés and Martín are all over the place, wonder in their eyes, talking constantly about the functionality and the beauty of every single innovation presented.
Sergio forgets about both the plan and the fair once he spots Raquel. Now. Raquel is a girl from his class and she is the only girl he's ever had a crush on. Not that it was difficult to develop such feelings. She's tough, smart, beautiful, she's the only person in the whole school who treats Sergio like a normal human being, while at the same time challenging him in class, arguing with him.
"Sergio, hi!" she spotts him and suddenly, Sergio remembers his - well, Andrés' - shirt. He feels himself blushing, but he clears his throat and decides to be cool.
"Hey. What are you doing here?"
Raquel raises an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed.
"I never would have expected for such a dumb question to leave your mouth. Everything alright?" she asks, her lips twitching.
Sergio wants to say yes, sure, like a cool person would. Instead, his shoulders slump and he sighs heavily.
"I'm just-... stressed. Generally speaking."
"Mm," Raquel gives him a nod, her eyes twinkling with wonderful understanding. She looks around and notices Andrés, who's currently trying to wrestle Martín into touching a Van de Graaff generator. "It's your brother over there, right? I think I saw him around school a few times."
Sergio is pretty sure Andrés has only visited his school to threaten people, but he decides against voicing these thoughts. He nods instead.
"Have you seen the lights show?" Raquel asks and Sergio stares at her for a moment before realizing that she's offering to take him to see it. He can't help but smile as he shakes his head.
"No."
"Come on, then," she grabs his hand and pulls him towards one of the pavillons. Suddenly, Sergio doesn't care about anything but the feeling of her fingers closed around his.
"So, Sergio," Andrés drawls as they're strutting back home; well, Andrés and Martín are, because Sergio is just walking along, hands in his pockets. "Who's the lady?"
"A friend from school."
"Since when do you have friends?" Martín laughs and Sergio wants to throttle him, but Andrés beats him to it and smacks the back of Martín's head. It's a playful gesture, though, almost fond.
"She seems interested in being more than a friend, hermanito," the man says and Sergio frowns, taking off his glasses to clean them nervously with the corner of his - well, Andrés' - shirt.
"I don't think so."
"Nooo, Sergio!" Martín takes a few quick steps and turns around so that he's walking backwards, face to face with him. "You have to realize that you're a very handsome young man! I'm sure most dumb girls are intimidated, but that one seems quite sure of herself. Would be good for you."
Sergio waits for Martín to trip and that's exactly what happens - the pavement is uneven and Martín only has time to shout la concha- when his heel meets one of the flagstones. Before he falls, though, Andrés dives in swiftly and catches him.
Now, Sergio has seen a romantic comedy only once, when Clara insisted on a family movie night. He didn't pay much attention to the movie itself, but he remembered one thing: the improbable amount of clumsiness of the characters, leading to numerous romantic instances of falling into each other's arms. It was infuriatingly dumb; Sergio would never have imagined such a scene happening before his very eyes, and yet.
Martín is definitely blushing, stopped mid-fall, Andrés' hands gripping the back of his shirt tightly. His own are fisted in the lapels of Andrés' jacket and he stares at him with wide eyes; then, he breaks into a wide grin as Andrés pulls him up, chuckling.
"Be careful. I wouldn't want to lose my best friend just because he refuses to walk like a normal person," Andrés murmurs and Sergio thinks what the fuck is that tone, does he realize how soft he sounds.
"You wouldn't want normal anyway," is what Martín says. Sergio's jaw almost hits the pavement at that. They're absolutely hopeless. He's never paid attention, but that's what they are.
Sunday is a good day for Sergio. First of all, Martín finally does the laundry, although he unceremoniously dumps the clothes onto Sergio's and Andrés' respective beds, stating that he's not a housewife that would iron and fold their rags, fuck you very much.
Second of all, Beatriz calls Andrés right before dinner and she goes on a rampage about her friend, apparently, screwing her over and making a scene about Beatriz appearing on her doorstep, allegedly unannounced.
Andrés puts the phone on the table, looking endlessly bored, Beatriz' voice a muffled stream of high-pitched ranting. Martín watches him, amused. At some point, he starts making faces, and Andrés smirks up at him, raising his eyebrows.
Score, Sergio thinks to himself and retreats to his room to work on the plan.
On Monday, Raquel sits with him during lunch.
"So," she says, looking to the side, as if slightly nervous, "I had fun during the fair."
"Uh, yeah," Sergio manages and curses himself for not being more eloquent. "Me too, is what I mean."
"Good! Good. So, I was thinking… do you want to maybe go grab a coffee?"
He stares at her, at the flushed cheeks, at her serious, honest eyes, at the small crease between her eyebrows; at the ring in her nose, a tiny sign that says she's kind of a rebel.
"Of course! I should've offered first, but I wasn't really sure-"
"It's okay," Raquel smiles. "Without your brother and his boyfriend this time, though?"
Thank God Sergio wasn't eating his pasta because he would've choked. Instead, he just stares, his brain working on high speed. First of all, he was right. Second of all, what should he do? Raquel is the smartest person he knows, besides Andrés and Martín, and she does like playing games, from what he knows…
"How about a double date?" he offers and she frowns, visibly taken aback. Sergio just grins.
"The thing is, neither Andrés nor his boyfriend know they're dating yet."
Slowly, Raquel's face lights up with a grin of her own.