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1.
They won.
France won last night against Poland with a beautiful 3-1 score. Kylian scored two of those three, thank you very much. The feeling of joy that coursed through his body last night seemed to have carried over to this morning because he was genuinely so happy. Any win for him in these types of tournaments will always leave him feeling like this, but today felt different than other days.
Well, to be fair, it may also be because he and Achraf agreed to meet today, something they've been trying to do throughout the tournament so far. But, with training and nearly back-to-back matches during the Group Stages, it was difficult for them to be able to do anything together. Now that matches are more spread out for the countries left in the running, they've finally found the time to spend together.
So, bright and early, Kylian finds himself walking the streets of Qatar under the still-bearable sun, making his way over to the public park he and Achraf agreed to meet at. He would be worried about fans coming up to them and asking for pictures or autographs, but frankly, Kylian didn't care enough about that when he's with his best friend.
It's astonishing to Kylian, really, how much time and space one Moroccan man can take up in his thoughts and in his brain. It's the way that the older never fails to make him feel happy in his more disappointing moments, like losing an important championship with PSG. Achraf would lose alongside him, but he would be the first person to console Kylian.
It's the same way now that he manages to take Kylian's breath away simply by existing. Kylian spots him leaning over a railing, hands folded, and watching people pass by on their morning commute. He's wearing a red shirt and black shorts with his team's logo but to Kylian, he manages to be the most handsome person he ever laid his eyes on.
"Hey," Kylian calls out once he knows he's in Achraf's earshot, and the latter turns to look at him, a face-splitting grin appearing on his face.
"Kyky," Achraf comes up to him and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, and, fuck, how good it feels to be held like this by him. "How are you this morning?"
"Great, you?" Kylian pulls back and watches the glimmer form in Achraf's eyes. They begin walking with no end destination in sight.
"Still trying to calm down my excitement from your big win last night. 3-1, huh? Your two goals were fantastic." Achraf's praise never fails to fluster Kylian. He isn't one to always need praise, in fact, he probably would argue that he doesn't need it at all. He knows he's good, and even though that statement may piss someone off, like humble yourself, man, he simply knows he's one of the best, especially for his age.
But Achraf, man. Kylian can't help but feel the butterflies form in his stomach whenever the man compliments him on anything. His playing, his gaming, his cooking. Shit, it doesn't matter. Kylian will melt at it.
He smiles over at the dark-haired man. "It's no big deal, really."
Achraf stops walking, causing Kylian to do so, as well. The taller man shakes his head. "No big deal? It absolutely is. Winning any World Cup game is an accomplishment. I know you may not think it, Mr. I won the World Cup at 19, but it really is."
Kylian laughs, softly hitting his best friend in the chest. "You're annoying. Fine, it was a big deal and we did great. Better for you?"
Achraf's shit-eating grin is back on his face, and Kylian would do anything to keep it there. "Absolutely it is."
They resume walking in comfortable silence, their presence near each other and the noises of the busy Qatari street being enough for them. Kylian wants to say he's never felt more at peace than at this moment. Not even when he won the World Cup four years ago. In fact, that was probably the most energetic he had ever felt in his life. The pure rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins when he was able to lift up that trophy and said his team did it. He did it.
And he probably should feel nerves throughout his body, especially with the Quarters coming up. But standing next to Achraf, he doesn't feel any of it. He just feels peaceful.
He turns to look at the man walking next to him, his hands in his shorts pockets, and he looks so... domestic? Would that be the right word to use? Kylian feels back home in the streets of Paris, walking with his best friend. Watching this handsome man walking around with an air of confidence that he has never seen in anyone, not even himself. Where all he wanted to do was reach over and grab his hand, walking together with the Eiffel Tower right there in their view.
But not here, especially not here. So in his mind, he pretends he's elsewhere.
It works for a minute or two before the buzzing in his pockets distracts him, and he reaches to look at his phone.
Olivier
Hey, man. Coming to practice? It's about to start and Coach is asking for you.
Oh, Kylian should have probably thought of that.
Kylian
Hey, sorry. Spending some time with a friend. We've been trying to plan this out and this was the best day. I'll just text Coach and tell him I wasn't feeling well.
Olivier
Does this friend happen to go by Achraf Hakimi?
Kylian
How did you know?
Olivier
I don't know if you realized, but you talked a lot about it last night in the locker room.
Kylian
Oh
Olivier
Yeah, oh. You two have fun, just not too much. We still need you working properly.
Kylian furrows his eyebrows and looks up, noticing Achraf looking down at his phone. "Who are you texting?"
Kylian shrugs, pocketing his phone. "Just Giroud. He was asking about practice, nothing big."
Achraf hums, nodding his head before turning to look in front of him. They fall back into silence, and Kylian thought that was going to be it until "You guys had an interesting celebration last night; saw it happen."
It takes a minute for Kylian to connect the dots, but he playfully scoffs after realizing what Achraf meant. "Yeah, you and the entire world."
Achraf lets out a strained laugh, shaking his head. "Why don't you ever do that with me when I score? Huh, Kylian? Am I not good enough for that?"
Kylian rolls his eyes, punching Achraf in the shoulder. "You're so annoying."
2.
Morocco lost. Against him.
Don't get him wrong, Kylian is more than excited. Back-to-back World Cup Finals. The chance to be the first country to win back-to-back World Cups in well over 60 years. This is one of the happiest moments in his career.
But, he's upset he had to take out his friend in the process. Morocco was making history, breaking barriers. Achraf was so elated and so proud of his country, his team, and himself. The first African country to make it to the Semi-Finals, just one more win away from the World Cup Final itself.
And Kylian's team shot those dreams down.
It hurts him, watching the man that he loves, because yes, Kylian finally admitted it to himself a long time ago, so defeated on that pitch. The celebrations of the Frenchman all around him, and his heart broken into pieces for his country.
Kylian walks over to him and forces him up. He throws his arms around his best friend because that's the only thing he could think of doing. That and, "I'm so proud of you, Achraf."
He lets go of him and he can see his friend collapsing on the ground again through his peripheral vision, but he'll be right back. He just has to go console more of his best friend's teammates.
He comes back to Achraf's arms, and they switch jerseys.
Kylian has never been more proud to wear someone else's jersey. "Hakimi" and "2" on his chest, right on top of his heart. That's exactly where they should be.
He walks back into his locker room, and the energy in the room multiplied tenfold. The boys were all dancing, cheering, and moving around like total idiots, but it didn't matter to them. Things only calmed down when Macron, damn him, walked into the locker room and congratulated the team on the massive victory and for going back to the Finals.
As quickly as he came in, he left, and Kylian was on his way out of the locker room when he felt someone grab his arm.
He turns to see Antoine and his stupidly adorable grin. "Hey, where are you headed? The guys are gonna go out and celebrate, you coming?"
Kylian smiles at him and shrugs. "Maybe later, man. I'm gonna go out and find Hakimi, but I'll catch up with you guys if you're still hanging out."
Antoine's face twists and a knowing smirk falls on his face. "Hakimi, again, huh? First, you blow off practice for him and now you blow us off for him. I'm trying not to be offended, Kyks."
Kylian groans. "You're so annoying, it's not even that big of a deal. I'm just going to spend a little bit of time with him. I promise I'll meet up with you guys in an hour."
Antoine giggles, before turning to walk back to the party still unfolding in the locker room. "An hour, my ass. You two kiddos have fun."
Kylian pretends like his friend's teasing about Achraf didn't affect him.
3.
"Merry Christmas, Kylian," Kylian smiles, wrapping his arms around Achraf.
"Thank you, come in," Kylian moves out of the way to let his best friend in and closes the door behind him, pointing to a table where Achraf can go set the gifts he brought with him down. "Thank you for coming."
"You know I wouldn't miss it, even if I don't celebrate."
Kylian smiles, and it takes no time for his family to come and swarm around the Moroccan. He can hear choruses of Merry Christmas and Congratulations and Morocco did amazing all around him, and Kylian couldn't help himself but smile.
He sees the loving look on Achraf's face when he's talking with Kylian's nieces and nephews, and it takes everything in Kylian to not shove people out of the way to kiss the man right then and there.
"I saw you play," Kylian heard his nephew say to Achraf. Achraf's smile never left his face. "You did? Was I good?"
Kylian couldn't hear the rest of the conversation, but he could see his nephew nod his head and throw his little arms around Achraf's neck to give him a hug. He was about to melt at the sight if it wasn't for the sharp pain of being hit at his side.
"Ow, shit," he turns to see Ethan standing there, a smirk on his face. "What?"
"You were just never going to tell us that you invited Hakimi over until he showed up?" His brother asks him, and Kylian rolls his eyes.
"I don't see how that's your business. I'm an adult, he's an adult, he can choose to come here or not,"
Ethan laughs, clasping his hand on Kylian's shoulder. "If I knew he was going to come, I would have at least made the place a little more romantic for you two. Tape a mistletoe on top of the front entrance or something."
Kylian rolls his eyes, pushing his brother's hand off his shoulder. "You're stupid."
This only causes the younger to laugh again, this time a little harder. "And you're in love."
He watches his brother walk away, and he scoffs, shaking his head. Fucking menace.
Kylian turns to look toward Achraf, wanting to watch him again, but his breath was caught in his throat when the older was already staring back at him. Achraf throws him his charming smile, and Kylian can't help but melt a little, smiling back.
So, what if his brother was right? He was still annoying.
+1
Kylian sighs, throwing open the curtains in his room.
He quietly unlocks the balcony door, stepping out and leaving it just a tad bit open. He leans on the railing, watching the city below him come to life. People are beginning their morning commute, whether it be in their cars or on foot, bringing noise back into the city that was still sleeping an hour ago. It's only eight in the morning, which is sort of early for Kylian, but he doesn't mind it.
A cool breeze causes goosebumps to rise on his bare arms and chest, but he pays it no mind. Days like these are meant to be spent like this; waking up early, watching the city come to life, and the beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower. He closes his eyes and smiles contently. Because that's how he finally feels after months of constant training and trying to move on from the heartbreak of the World Cup defeat. Content.
He hears stirring behind him, and he turns to walk back inside his room. Achraf blinks the sunlight away and moves to lie on his elbows. "Good morning, baby."
Kylian smiles. He'll never stop getting used to that. "G'morning."
Achraf squints and turns to look at the clock on the nightstand. "What are you doing up at... eight?"
Kylian simply shrugs. "The view was kind of irresistible."
His lover nods, scanning his body up and down. "I do have to agree with you on that one."
Kylian scoffs, but the blush that's rising on his cheeks betrays him. "Says you. No one should look this fucking good waking up."
The sight of Achraf Hakimi on his bed, duvet only covering his lower half, abs flexing because he's holding himself up with his arms, and, oh God, those arms-
"I look good, huh?" Achraf throws him a lazy smile. "Why don't you come back into bed with me, Amor?"
Kylian slowly makes his way over to him, a smile splayed across his face. His knees land on the bed and one of Achraf's arms that were being used to hold him up finds its way to his waist. "Why is that, Haki?"
The older reaches his head up towards his as if to kiss him, and it takes all but a second for Kylian to end up on his back with his lover hovering over him. Kylian softly laughs when Achraf's nose caresses his neck.
"We have something to finish, don't we, baby?"
Achraf looks back up at him with a smile and, fuck, he pulls his lover down and connects their lips together because he might actually die if he can't feel his lips on him for another second. Kylian wants to continue waking up like this every morning for the rest of his existence.