Chapter Text
The pub England had rented out to celebrate their qualification was absolute chaos.
Normally Jude would've been the first to remind everyone to stay hydrated, drink responsibly, and take care of themselves. Tonight?
Tonight, he felt he'd earned it.
Two goals.
Had he really scored twice? He still couldn't quite believe it. Pride swelled inside him. People recognized him. They knew his celebration. He was becoming someone. Someone people remembered. For a man who usually picked apart every mistake he'd ever made...Tonight, he was glowing.
A few days ago he'd stumbled across a TikTok compilation of all the ridiculous faces he pulled whenever he forgot to keep his emotions under control. People loved it. He'd been surprised. Apparently he looked like that without realizing it. The comments had been full of laughing emojis. People were happy. And for once...So was he. The adrenaline drowned out everything else. The stress. The fear. How miserable ninety minutes on that pitch had actually been. It had been the biggest match of his career. Against the man he'd recently realized, quite by accident, he might be very, very in love with. There had been a lot of drinking afterward. At some point he'd danced the Macarena.
Then he'd delivered what could only be described as an absolutely tragic performance of Waka Waka alongside one of his teammates.
He'd also seen a few TikToks suggesting Haaland hadn't played well because he'd gone easy on his friend. Jude didn't buy that for a second. Erling would never throw a match. Not for anyone. Both of them had given everything they had for their countries. Neither deserved an ounce of criticism.
Eventually, he stumbled back to his hotel room. He sat on the edge of his bed for several minutes, staring at his shoes as though they were the most fascinating objects in existence.
Then he felt sick.
Still smiling like a kid who'd just brought home a perfect report card, he staggered into the bathroom to throw up.
His phone buzzed.
BRAUTY
The contact photo was an AI-generated cat with fluffy half-tied hair that looked suspiciously like Haaland.
One of the fans had definitely made it.
"Hey, Brauty..." Jude slurred. "Have I ever told you you're handsome?" A pause. "I mean... you're not, like... handsome handsome..." He frowned, trying to organize his thoughts. "You're like... that meme? The little girl who goes, *'It's awful. I love it.'*" Jude burst into laughter. "That's you. I love you. No..." Another laugh. "I mean... you're just really funny."
Brauty's POV
Erling had never seen Jude drunk before. He had to admit... It was surprisingly entertaining.
"I'm funny?" he asked, curious to see where this would go.
"A little." Jude giggled. "And adorable. You know I won today?"
"Oh?" Erling smiled. "Did you?"
"It was amazing. You should've seen me...Why didn't you watch? I looked so cool."
Tomorrow, Jude was almost certainly going to fake his own death from embarrassment.
"I was there, Vicky."
"...Really?" Jude gasped dramatically. "You should've said hi! I like you so much. You kiss really well...Didn't we kiss yesterday?" He paused. "...Yeah.You kissed me really well today too.We should kiss again. We're good at kissing. So... One more kiss is basically mandatory, don't you think?" Every sentence came out accompanied by a sleepy little hiss. "Have I told you I really like you?"
"I actually called because..." Erling hesitated. "I wanted us to talk about..." He gestured vaguely between the two of them before remembering Jude couldn't see him."...all of this." Another pause. "But maybe another day. The guys want to head back to Norway before we rejoin our clubs."
"No." Jude stretched the word into an exaggerated whine. "Nooooo...Come here."
"I'll take a shower. And then you can come over. And we'll kiss."
"Jude.I said talk."
"Yeah."Jude sounded completely unbothered. "I'm still gonna kiss you."
"Come on." Erling knew perfectly well none of that was going to happen.
Not while Jude was drunk. Not while he was barely coherent. This wasn't the time for a conversation that could change both of their lives forever. But... He wanted to see him. He told himself he was only going to make sure Jude was okay. Get him into bed. Roll him onto his side so he wouldn't choke if he threw up again. He knew what he was doing. He'd taken first-aid courses. They could always talk later. That was what he kept telling himself.
"...And then I was standing on the table singing Bad Rom..."
Jude was still rambling. Erling hadn't heard a word.
"Go take your shower. I'm on my way."
"Viking kisses! Yay!" Jude mumbled the hotel room passcode before hanging up.
It took Erling almost two hours to reach the hotel. The streets were packed with celebrating England supporters. Somehow he slipped inside unnoticed. If anyone had seen him heading to Jude's room... Social media would've exploded.
When Jude finally opened the door...His confidence had completely evaporated. He was obviously still drunk. But apparently enough sobriety had returned for him to remember everything he'd said on the phone.
"...Hi."
Erling grinned. "I've come to deliver Viking kisses!"
Jude buried his face in one hand. "Shut up before I kick you back out."
"Fair enough." Erling laughed. "Headache?"
"A bit. I threw up again after we hung up.Then I showered. I'm still kind of dizzy."
"How much did you drink?" Erling asked, trying not to smile.
"No idea. Whatever people handed me." Jude sighed dramatically. "I'm an irresponsible idiot."
"We'll have the conversation once your brain is functioning without alcohol."
Jude nodded.
Silence settled between them.
Long.
Awkward.
Eventually...
Erling spoke. "Congratulations on making the semifinals." His voice was quiet.
"Thanks." Jude smiled. "It's incredible." Then he immediately regretted sounding so excited. "You guys played brilliantly too. It was an amazing match."
For some reason...Everything suddenly felt unbearably awkward.
"Yeah." Erling nodded. "Nothing to be ashamed of. In the end, it's football. You were simply better today. We already talked about that after the match."
They were sitting side by side on the bed again. Just like yesterday. Both staring at the floor. Neither of them knew how to start the conversation they actually wanted to have.
"I didn't play very well either." Erling spoke before Jude could. At least...That's what people are saying." He let out a humorless laugh. "I had a lot on my mind." He looked up immediately. "That's not your fault. I just...A lot has happened in a very short time. You deserved the win. Your attack was better. Our defense made mistakes. The disallowed goal..." He swallowed. "Those things happen. I wasn't trying to foul anyone. You know how my dad is about that stuff." His voice caught for a second. "We all knew we'd already gone farther than anyone expected. Everyone back home is proud of us." He kept talking faster.
As if stopping would make everything real.
"But..." A long pause. "Why does it still feel like this is my fault?"
Another pause.
Smaller.
Quieter.
"I..." His voice almost disappeared. "I wanted to win."
Only then did Erling realize what he'd been hiding from himself all evening. He'd ignored the tightness in his chest. Forced himself to stay positive. Told everyone how proud he was. Encouraged his teammates. Smiled through every interview.
But sitting here...
In the same room as one of the most important people in his life... He'd finally admitted the truth. When the silence returned... Jude slowly lifted his head.
And found Erling looking back at him,
Silent tears slipping down his face.