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The thing about Bachira, Isagi has come to find, is that he has no sense of personal space.
And, well—it’s not that Isagi minds. He’s grown used to it, even. The problem comes from the softness that flutters through his stomach at every touch.
He’s in the middle of chewing when Bachira claims the empty space next to him, an arm swinging around his shoulder like they’ve been friends forever. Isagi’s heart halts as he swallows slowly, eyes landing on Bachira’s carefree smile.
“Isagi!” He greets with a fondness that Isagi is still adjusting to.
“Bachira,” Isagi says, an easy smile forming. Bachira’s grin is contagious. Isagi finds himself smiling more and more these days, despite the pressure that comes from existing in Blue Lock.
Bachira’s arm remains around Isagi, and though he finds it harder to concentrate like this, he enjoys the warmth it provides.
⚘⚘⚘
Isagi yelps, nearly thrown into the ground as Bachira jumps onto his back without warning. “Good job, Isagi!” Bachira cheers, and Isagi stumbles briefly before grounding himself, his arms moving to hold Bachira’s legs.
“You have to stop doing that without a warning,” Isagi huffs, because this isn’t even the first time Bachira has turned Isagi into his personal mode of transportation.
He tried to fight it, the first few times, shaking Bachira off his back only for him to find his way back a week later. Eventually, Isagi accepted his fate.
“But it’s more fun that way,” Bachira says, his arms wrapping around Isagi’s chest.
Isagi is acutely aware of each point where their bodies touch. The flutter in his stomach returns, relentless and unwavering.
No one bats an eye at their closeness, all too used to Bachira’s antics. Not that he’s jumping on any of their backs. Isagi frows at the thought, at the idea of seeing Bachira clinging to a back that isn’t his. He’s quick to wipe the downward curl of his mouth off his face, confused by the unpleasant feeling that passes through him.
“You’re heavy,” Isagi sighs, not that he really minds.
“You’re strong,” Bachira says, strengthening the flutter.
Isagi is a lot better at handing out compliments than he is at accepting them, but Bachira has been providing him with plenty of practice. Not that it ever gets easier, especially with the way Isagi’s chest twists with every little bit of praise Bachira offers.
⚘⚘⚘
They’re watching footage of the most recent Blue Lock game when Bachira plants a hand atop Isagi’s head and ruffles his hair, a cheery smile brightening his features. He’s still looking at the screen in front of them. “That was an amazing goal, Isagi,” Bachira tells him.
Isagi doesn’t say anything. His eyes turn to watch Bachira, who’s watching Isagi on the screen, eyes sparkling with wonder. Isagi’s heart dives into his stomach. No one has ever looked at him like that before. Warmth bubbles in his chest. The flutter in his stomach turns into a full on trash.
Isagi swallows the panic building inside of him. It’s hard to deny the obvious when it’s pounding at his chest and drumming in his ears. He tears his gaze away from Bachira and returns his eyes to the game.
Focus, he tells himself.
Anything that isn’t soccer is a distraction.
There is no room in Blue Lock for these feelings growing inside of him.
⚘⚘⚘
Bachira is apparently incapable of sitting next to Isagi without some part of their bodies touching. He slides comfortably into the spot next to him, their thighs pressing together. Isagi briefly wonders if Bachira has any idea what he’s doing to Isagi with all these casual touches.
Does the proximity of their bodies affect Bachira the same way it affects him? Isagi isn’t sure he wants to know the answer to that. Does it really matter, either way? Even if it makes both of their hearts race, nothing will change between them.
This is Blue Lock. Their futures are at stake.
Still, Isagi can’t help but consider how Bachira feels. If he feels for anything other than soccer.
Experimentally, Isagi shifts, just enough so that his thighs are no longer pressed against Bachira’s.
Bachira laughs at something Kunigami says, and with one swift movement, his shoulder touches Isagi’s. The movement is so smooth, like touching Isagi is second nature.
⚘⚘⚘
They win. Together, Bachira and Isagi secure another day in Blue Lock. Isagi’s heart is pumping with adrenaline. Bachira has that crazy look in his eyes, the one that Isagi loves so much, the one that reminds him he’s not alone.
Bachira crosses the distance between them, pure energy headed straight for Isagi.
“I knew you would be there,” Bachira says. His steadfast faith in Isagi on the field lights a fire in Isagi’s chest. His skin burns hot, and it has little to do with the game they just won.
“I could smell the goal,” Isagi says, his eyes still shining from their victory.
Bachira grins and wraps Isagi in his arms. Oh. Isagi’s skin burns hotter. Bachira’s hold on him is tight, a sturdy embrace that turns Isagi’s stomach into a firework launch pad.
He wants to keep winning with Bachira at his side. But that’s not how Blue Lock works. Bachira is his competition, and Isagi has every intention of defeating him.
It doesn’t matter what feelings swirl in his gut.
⚘⚘⚘
Isagi can’t sleep. It’s the middle of the night when he makes it out to one of the practice fields, shooting goals until his body hurts, until his brain shuts off and it’s just him and the ball.
He’s scored over a hundred goals when he hears the automatic doors open, revealing a yawning Bachira.
Isagi ignores the familiar flutter and asks, “What are you doing here, Bachira?”
“I woke up and you weren’t there,” Bachira supplies. “Figured I’d find you here.”
Isagi throws the ball in his hands at Bachira, who catches it with ease. “Since you’re here now, you might as well play with me.”
Bachira yawns once more, a smile following. “Sure, Isagi.”
They play until they’re out of breath, collapsing onto the ground together. Isagi pants, holding the ball in his lap.
“I want it to be us, in the end,” Bachira says. Isagi’s pupils blow wide. Every inch of his body is buzzing, and not just from the exhaustion.
Isagi stares at the determination written on Bachira’s face. They’re close, but they’re not touching. Isagi’s eyes stay locked on Bachira. Their gazes meet, and a thrilled electricity courses through him.
Isagi’s eyes shift to Bachira’s lips. In a second, he makes a decision.
In two seconds, his mouth is pressing against Bachira’s. It’s barely a kiss - a blink and you miss it moment - chapped lips meeting.
“I’ll beat you,” Isagi says. His entire body is charged.
He’ll kill Bachira’s dream to make it to the top.
Bachira’s grin is wild, a dangerous smile that never backs down.
“I’ll be the monster that wins,” Bachira tells him.
It’s a promise that Isagi refuses to let him keep.