Chapter Text
Leo poured kibble into Hulk's dog bowl, the Mastiff lazily stretching as he yawned, getting up from the couch, and coming to Leo’s side.
“I need your help, buddy. You have to help me keep Cris in bed," Leo said, petting Hulk behind the ears.
Hulk let out a huff, leaning down to eat his kibble.
“Come on, Hulk, I'll give you extra treats when I get home if you do."
Hulk brushed against Leo’s legs, almost toppling the Argentine over as he padded across the tile floor towards the guest room Cris was sleeping in.
“Please just stay down, both of you," Leo said steadying himself before grabbing his training gear and heading off to training. He didn’t want to go, but Coach would have his head if he didn’t show up for training again.
Cris had been slowly waking up when he felt the bed dip behind him, reaching out for what he assumed to be his husband, instead feeling soft dog fur under his hand.
Cris turned over and sat up to see the mastiff lying protectively beside him, watching the door in his element as a livestock guardian.
“Of course Leo stuck you on me while he’s out," Cris said, pulling the blanket off himself and getting up to go to the bathroom, making Hulk stand up alert and growling.
“What is it?” Cris said as Hulk continued growling as he tried to get out of bed, a loud and powerful bark stopping him.
Cris always thought Hulk was just a big dumb dog with how the Mastiff always sat around in the sun. Could you blame him? But it was clear Hulk was smarter than he gave him credit for sitting back down.
“Fine! "Gosh, Leo really trained you well, you big baby," Cris says as he lays back in bed, Hulk flopping down on his legs.
He grabs his phone from the nightstand, opening Instagram and scrolling through a few videos on his feed before he comes across one discussing him.
“Cristiano Ronaldo hasn’t been seen in public for 6 weeks now. Where is our goat? Was his ankle injury worse than it let on?” The person said, talking into one of the clip-on microphones he was holding.
Cris always hated when people held clip-on microphones. It's made to be clipped onto your shirt. Why on earth are you holding the stupid thing!
____________________________________
Leo couldn’t stop himself from checking the security cameras in the house for the fifth time. He knew he should be focused on what Zlatan and Puyol were saying. The locker room was loud. All he wanted was to go home and cuddle with his husband. He really regretted ever getting out of bed.
“Earth to Lionel!” Zlatan said, snapping his fingers in front of his face.
Leo instinctively switched off his phone. “Yes, Zlatan?"
“We are heading onto the field now; whatever is on your phone can wait."
Making sure Cris is safe isn’t something Leo wants to wait for, but he puts his phone in his bag. "Right, my bad."
Leo silently begs whatever god is listening to make sure Cris doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s training.