Chapter Text
Nicolò wishes he could fall asleep. He’s lying in his bed, he’s sure none of his teammates can sleep either.
He knows it’s not a good idea to check his phone after a bad match, but he really can’t help it, besides, there’s no one stopping him now.
He scrolls through Instagram, there’s comments, stories, posts, even DMs, all about their poor performance and the playoffs; he really shouldn’t read all those pointless critics but it’s the middle of the night, there isn’t much else to do.
Someone is talking in the team’s group chat, mostly the guys that couldn’t come for their injuries trying to comfort them, he has a spark of hope and opens whatsapp.
He really hoped he just missed the notification but of course he’s wrong, why would Alessandro write to him personally after all? A message in the group is enough, right? They have no reason to talk in private, but he’s online, and why shouldn’t Nicolò be the one reaching out?
So he starts writing, and he doesn’t even know what's the content of the message, it’s just disconnected thoughts.
I played like shit.
We disappointed everyone.
Maybe journalists were right, we won the Euros out of luck.
When the mister took me out, I was barely standing.
I wish you were here with me.
The second he re-reads that sentence he deletes the entire message.
What was he thinking? Alessandro probably already feels bad enough for not being able to play, he shouldn’t dump his own anguish on him.
But he knows that’s not the reason he deleted the message. He turns off the phone and returns to stare at the ceiling, he really wishes he could turn off his mind too, stop thinking.
Of course he wishes Alessandro was there, he’s a valuable player, he could have changed the sorts of the match, there’s no lie in that. Also he likes everyone in the team, but he really wished that they would stay the same players that won the Euros, they’re a family and even though he knows football’s like that, players come and go, we really hoped the team stayed the same.
The fact that Alessandro had to stay in Italy didn’t sit well with him at all, Nicolò loves spending time with him, it isn’t a secret; they are teammates at Inter, it is just natural that they spent their time with the national team together.
Nicolò really wishes he could fall asleep, stop his mind from the route it is taking, but all he can think about is Alessandro saving him a seat in the auditorium whenever he was late, always checking his glass before filling his own, letting him always shower first; it was really the smallest of things and Nicolò bets Alessandro doesn’t know he noticed, hell he probably doesn't realize he even does those things, but he did notice.
He noticed his friend holding his hand a little too long after helping him get up from the ground during training, he noticed that he’s always keeping an eye on him during a match, making sure he’s okay, he noticed how he would put his arm around his shoulders at every occasion.
He noticed and he’s drunk on it.
And it’s wrong.
He should really stop it, he shouldn’t give him hope for something that is not meant to happen, he shouldn’t make him believe they could be more than friends, he shouldn’t indulge in his attentions but he can’t help it.
Feeling wanted by Alessandro has become an addiction, and even though he knows that what he’s doing is mean and Ale really doesn’t deserve it, he’s always the first to reach out to the other.
Goes up to him during training asking him how he’s doing, just to hear him praise his skills like he’s some football god, brushes his tight against the other’s whenever they’re sitting together, rests his head on his shoulder when Ale’s hugging him with one arm.
It is wrong and he feels sick, he wishes he could tell him to stop. Or he wishes he could tell him that these days they spent apart were horrible, that he wants to be around him all the time, that he’s an idiot for denying his feelings.
He picks up his phone and sees the notification.
Hey Nic, how are you feeling?
It’s easy, there’s nothing behind it, just a person that cares about him being concerned, that’s how Alessandro is: easy. He’s the one that always makes things difficult.
I miss you a lot, can’t wait to see you. I love you.
Nicolò sends it without even thinking.
Then goes back to his chat with Alesandro.
I wish you were here with me.
Deletes again.
I don’t know, I just want to come home.
He turns off the phone for the third time.
Nicolò really wishes he could fall asleep.