between us pt.2
pairing: eric garcia x torres!reader
summary: in which you fall for your brother's teammate
waarnings: none!
a/n: requested on my wattpad!
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the problem with deciding to hide something is that it immediately becomes more tempting.
more reckless.
more alive.
you tell yourselves youâll be careful.
you are not careful.
the first time you stay at ericâs place, it isnât planned.
it was supposed to be coffee.
then a walk.
then âjust one movieâ on his couch.
and suddenly itâs midnight and youâre barefoot on his kitchen tiles, wearing one of his hoodies, laughing too loud at something that isnât even that funny.
âi should go,â you say weakly.
neither of you move.
âyeah,â he agrees, not letting go of your hand.
you both know you wonât.
when he kisses you this time, it isnât hesitant.
itâs not balcony-soft and unsure.
itâs months of tension and years of almost.
itâs his hands firm at your waist, your fingers in his hair, the quiet gasp you donât manage to swallow.
you wake up the next morning in his bed, sunlight pouring across white sheets, his arm heavy and warm around your middle.
for a moment, it feels simple.
then your phone buzzes.
ferran: when are u coming home?
your stomach drops.
you slide out of bed carefully, grabbing your clothes from the floor.
eric blinks awake. âeverything okay?â
âyeah,â you whisper. âi justâ i told ferran i was at a friendâs.â
eric pushes himself up on one elbow, watching you.
âso technically not a lie,â he murmurs.
you throw him a look. âdonât.â
he smiles, slow and infuriatingly soft.
you lean down and kiss him again anyway.
reckless.
âhow was martaâs?â ferran asks that afternoon, tossing you an apple from the kitchen counter.
you catch it, hoping your face isnât giving anything away.
âgood. we watched a movie.â
âwhich one.â
you freeze for half a second.
âuh. the one with â you know. the sad dog.â
ferran squints. âthatâs not a title.â
âit was sad. there was a dog. i cried. end of story.â
he watches you a beat longer than comfortable.
then shrugs.
âdog movies are sad.â
you exhale internally.
too easy.
dangerously easy.
it gets worse after that.
when ferran and eric hang out at your apartment, you play your part.
casual.
normal.
until eric stands up mid-conversation.
âbathroom,â he mutters.
ferran doesnât even look up from his phone.
youâre already halfway down the hallway.
the bathroom door closes.
two seconds later, it opens again and eric slips into your room instead.
you barely have time to whisper âyouâre insaneâ before heâs kissing you.
quick.
urgent.
like youâre stealing something.
which you are.
âheâs in the other room,â you breathe against his mouth.
âi know.â
âthis is stupid.â
âyeah.â
he kisses you again anyway.
your heart pounds so loud youâre convinced ferran can hear it through the walls.
a floorboard creaks in the hallway and you jump apart like youâve been caught committing a crime.
eric smooths his shirt, runs a hand through his hair.
âget out before he gets suspicious,â you hiss.
âso worth it,â he smiles, already backing toward the door.
he actually goes into the bathroom this time, flushes the toilet for effect.
you sit on your bed trying to steady your breathing.
when you both reappear in the living room, ferran glances up.
his eyes move between you.
slow.
assessing.
âwhy do you both look red?" he asks.
âitâs hot,â you answer immediately.
âyeah,â eric echoes.
ferran looks at the air conditioner humming above you.
it is very much not hot.
he narrows his eyes.
but he doesnât say anything.
the closest call happens on a thursday.
ferranâs at ericâs place.
youâre not supposed to be there.
you were.
youâd come over earlier, thinking ferran was still at pedri's.
timing miscalculated.
youâre in ericâs bedroom when you hear the front door open.
ferranâs voice carries down the hallway.
âhermanoo, iâm starving.â
your blood turns to ice.
eric looks at you.
you look at him.
âbalcony,â he whispers urgently.
âare you insane.â
âtrust me.â
you absolutely do not trust him.
but you slip out onto the small back balcony anyway, heart in your throat.
you can hear them in the kitchen.
cupboards opening.
ferran talking about something from training.
eric responding like nothing is wrong.
like you are not hiding ten feet away trying not to breathe too loudly.
after what feels like an hour but is probably like seven minutes, eric appears in the doorway.
âiâm grabbing something from my room,â he calls casually.
his footsteps approach.
the balcony door slides open just enough for him to slip outside.
you glare at him. âthis is your fault.â
âyou look hot when youâre mad.â
âeric.â
he kisses you anyway.
quick.
reckless.
âfive minutes,â he murmurs. âi'll distract him then you leave through the stairwell. he wonât see.â
you stare at him.
âyouâre enjoying this way too much.â
âa little.â
you shove his shoulder.
but youâre smiling.
and thatâs the problem.
because this isnât just hiding.
itâs thrilling.
itâs dangerous.
itâs you sneaking out of his building with your hood up while your brother laughs in the kitchen, completely unaware.
itâs eric texting you five seconds later:
him: made it out alive?
you: youâre going to ruin my life.
him: worth it.
you shouldnât love that answer.
you do.
but ferran isnât stupid.
he starts watching.
small things at first.
the way ericâs body subtly angles toward you in group settings.
the way you both disappear at the same time a little too often.
the inside jokes that donât make sense to anyone else.
one night, ferran pauses mid-sentence while the three of you are sitting in the living room.
his eyes move between you.
back and forth.
slow.
ââŚwhat,â you ask carefully.
he leans back against the couch.
ânothing.â
itâs the same tone as before.
which means itâs absolutely something.
ericâs knee brushes yours.
you donât move it away.
ferran notices that too.
you see it in the slight tightening of his jaw.
the protective instinct flickering on like a warning light.
and suddenly the thrill feels thinner.
more fragile.
because sneaking around is fun.
until it isnât.
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