Summary - whilst away on international duty Lisandro and Antony still finds a way to keep In touch.

Enjoy!

So...can we facetime?"

"No."

"Send pictures?"

"No."

"What can we do then?"

"I'm talking to you on the phone right now, aren't I?"

"Yes, but I want to see you."

"Forget it Antony."

A sound interrupts them as Antony's roommate walks in to grab his headphones.

"Who was that?" Lisandro said, only hearing someone enter the room on the other end of the line.

"Paqueta." Antony said.

"You're sharing rooms with Paqueta?"

"Beds actually."

"What?"

"Kidding." Antony laughs. "We are roomates though."

"I never liked that guy." Lisandro mutters.

"You don't like any of ny friends. Besides, you've never even met Lucas. We never got a chance to play against you in the world cup."

"But he plays for West Ham. We face them at least three times a season."

"Yeah, yeah, be glad he doesn't play for Man City of all teams."

Silence fell on Lisandro's end. He hated when Antony played smart with him. "I guess so." He muttered.

"So how was your day?" Antony said, changing subject, although he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Normal. I woke up, ate, trained, ate again and then went back to sleep."

"That's it? That's all you did today? Eat, sleep, train, repeat?"

Lisandro shrugged his shoulders, aware that Antony couldn't possibly know he did that.

"Tell me more about your day Licha." Antony pleaded. "In detail this time."

"Fine." He sighed. "I woke up and put on some clothes. Then I–"

"What clothes? Describe them."

"Really?" Lisandro rolled his eyes. There was a crunching sound coming from Antony's end of the line as he had begun chewing on something. Either way, Lisandro presumed.

"I just put on the regular team kit for training. There, happy now?"

"Are you sure it was the training kit and not the match kit. You know how forgetful you get when it comes to—"

"I'm sure." Lisandro hissed.

Antony's laughter erupted in his ear, well aware that Lisandro was blushing right now.

"Don't think I won't dare hang up on you."

"I'm sorry Licha, but you must admit that you're very forgetful when it comes to what team kit to wear, especially in Manchester."

"Why do they make us wear five different kit's? It's a waist of clothes."

"But it's good for business. You know how the fans love to collect all sets every season. I even bought my son a pair for Christmas."

"Oh, yeah, how is he?"

"My son? He's fine. He just recovered from the cold he had. He's been getting alot of those since we moved to England."

"He's a strong little guy though, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"He will." Antony said, smiling into his pillow. Lisandro had always been good to his son. "He loved the drone you got him for his birthday, amongst other gifts. I think you bought him more presents than I."

Lisandro chuckled. "What can I say, that's the reason kids love me. Just ask Fred, his son loves me too."

Antony bit down on his bottom lip as he knew that his next question might cause some sparks. However he was curious to know. "Do you think you'll have kids of your own?"

It was as if the plug was pulled and all power went out. Lisandro seized to laugh as silence fell on his end.

"Licha, you there?" Antony immediately regretted asking. Sometimes his curiosity got the best of him. It was stupid, he was stupid for always making Lisandro—"

"One day."

Antony had trailed off, but returned from his thoughts as Lisandro spoke quietly. "Really, how many?"

Again, Antony was useless when it came to hiding his eager emotions.

"I dunno? One, maybe two."

Antony nodded, phone pressed to his ear. "One, maybe two sounds good."

"How about you?" Lisandro asked. "Do you want more kids?"

Antony smiled. "I dunno. I got it right the first time, there is no one more perfect than my son Lorenzo."

"I get it." Lisandro said, he had been holding his breath for the past two minutes as the conversation between the two had entered a unknown territory. "Your son is perfect, why would you want more? "

"I'm not resolute though. " Antony was quick to add. "In life you never know. Perhaps is better not to plan for things such as children, God knows I didn't when it came to Lorenzo."

Lisandro already knew that Antony had a son back when they both played for Ajax. It was one of the things he admired the most about him. It must be difficult leaving your infant son behind in the hopes of pursuing your dreams to play professional football. However Antony had always been passionate about what he did, that's what Lisandro admired the most about him. That and other things.

"Tony?"

Silence had krept again, this time on Antony's end of the line.

"Yes Licha?"

"Tell me about your day and be specific."

Antony smiled. "Well...I woke up around seven, got dressed and—"

"Got dressed in what?" Lisandro interrupted.

Antony chuckled. "The teams training kit of course."

"Are you still wearing them now?"

"Of course not." Antony snorted. Training had ended hours ago. Most players chilled in their rooms playing video games.

"No? What are you wearing now then?"

"Oh?" Antony raised a brow hearing the seductive in Lisandro's voice. "Shorts." He said, curling his toes underneath the duvet.

"And..." Lisandro said, expecting there to be more. After all he had asked Antony to be specific.

"Just that. I'm only wearing a pair of shorts."

"Nothing underneath?"

"Nope. " Antony said, a devious smirk twitching his lip.

"Good." Lisandro said, his smirk fully formed. "Do as I say. Put you hand in your shorts."

"But how am I supposed to continue talking to you?"

"Your other hand dumbo."

Antony's laughter echoed in the night. However Lisandro didn't like playing to many games. "Have you done it?" He asked, his voice demanding.

"Yes." Antony said.

"Good. Tell me what you feel?"

Antony adjusted himself on the bed, one hand deep in his shorts, the other pressing the phone to his ear. "I feel something hard Licha." He said, in a troubled voice.

"How hard?" Lisandro groaned, his own hand eagerly snaking its way down his sweatpants.

"Very hard Licha" Antony moaned. "What should I do?"

"Touch yourself for me."

"Now?" Antony was a bit taken by Lisandro's sudden initiative.

"Yes now. We'll do it together."

"You're doing it too." Antony brought himself to sit. He heard the smothered groans coming from the other end of the line. "Licha?" He frowned. However there was no answer, just continued groans, muffled up by something shaking the microphone.

A deep sigh. "I fucking love you Antony, did you know that?" Lisandro returned to the phone, appearing reborn somehow.

"I...didn't." Antony fell back against his pillow, his gaze wandering to the ceiling above.

"I've never told you that?"

"Maybe?" Antony said, trying to remember the times Lisandro declared his love for him. "At least not while sober." He chuckled.

"No?" Lisandro said, a slight guilt developing within.

"No, but it's okay." Antony shook his head. "I get it. You can't be—"

"Antony." Lisandro said firmly.

"Yes?"

"I love you. I mean it every time I say it, sober or not."

Antony smiled and nodded. "Me too. I love you."

"Have a goodnight." Lisandro said, yawning into the phone.

"Have a good practice tomorrow. Don't forget to put on the correct kit."

"Ha ha. I'll call you tomorrow okay."

"Okay."

"Same time?"

"Same time."

"Okay bye."

"Bye Licha, sleep tight."