Work Text:
Bachira’s legs are heavy and his movements are sluggish as he heads into the soccer complex.
Part of him is excited. He loves getting to see his former Blue Lock teammates like this each year. It’s not often you get a dozen professional soccer players together to play an impromptu pickup game. His chest warms as he thinks about getting to see Kunigami and Chigiri again, and to see what Reo and Nagi have been up to. He smiles to himself as he thinks about being able to engage in his favorite pastime: antagonizing Itoshi Rin.
But, this year, there’s a fundamental piece missing.
Golden eyes are glued to the floor as he shuffles into the locker room. He’s distracted by the tight pang of disappointment refusing to remove its claws from his chest. When he turns the corner, he runs into something solid.
“Oh!” Bachira steps back for a second before recognizing the two standing in front of him. Hiori is pressed against the wall with Nanase hovering over him. Their hair is disheveled and both of their lips are red and flushed. It’s clear they were just making out.
“Hey!” He tries to express his typical enthusiasm, flashing a blinding smile and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” Nanase steps away from Hiori. “Thought we were the last ones!”
“No, no, you’re fine.” Truth be told, jealousy twists inside Bachira’s stomach. “And congrats, by the way.”
Hiori blushes even more violently and subconsciously toys with the black rubber band around his ring finger. “Thanks.”
Nanase puts an arm around his husband and kisses his temple, completely unashamed. “Lemme tell ya, married life is pretty great.”
Once again, Bachira smiles, hiding his disappointment. “I’m sure.”
“Speakin’ of,” Hiori starts, “Where’s Isagi?”
Bachira sets his bag down on one of the benches and starts unpacking his gear. It helps busy his hands and keep him occupied, as well as to hide his expressions. He allows his smile to fade. “Couldn’t make it this year. I mean, with the season starting soon, I get it. We’ve all had to skip at least once, right?”
Nanase and Hiori are oddly silent.
He turns to face them. They’re both staring at each other with unreadable expressions on their faces. “What is it?”
“Oh.” Nanase shrugs. “Just think’ ‘bout how distance is hard! And it’s Valentine’s Day to top it off, too!”
“Yeah, I guess.” Bachira lets silence wash over them again as he puts on his shinguards and grabs his cleats. He doesn’t need to be reminded about how difficult it’s been to try to maintain a relationship while playing a professional sport and on different teams in completely different countries. Bachira can handle a lot. He’s overwhelmingly optimistic, and he loves Isagi more than anything, so it hasn’t been all bad or agonizing, but today specifically, it hurts a little more than usual.
“Well, we’ll see ya out there! Everyone else is warmin’ up.” Hiori puts a hand on Bachira’s shoulder as they walk away hand-in-hand. “Maybe this’ll be a good distraction.”
“I’m sure,” he replies with another forced smile. “I’ll be out there soon.”
Nanase and Hiori take their leave, and the ensuing silence is near overwhelming. With a heavy sigh, Bachira tries to brush away the heaviness in his heart as he finishes lacing up his shoes and shoves his bag into a locker. It’ll be fine.
Those are the words he repeats in his mind as he makes his way to the indoor pitch. Though the feeling still lingers, a contented warmth lightens the tension. Nanase and Hiori have joined the others, and are doubled over in laughter as Rin and Barou are getting into it as usual. Gagamaru is holding back Raichi who, knowing him, has found a way to insert himself into the conversation. Kunigami, Chigiri, Reo, and Nagi all watch with amused looks on their faces—well, all except Nagi.
Seeing all of them together, so different from how they were at Blue Lock and yet so similar, gives a comforting sense of predictability.
“Hey, Bobcut!”
Bachira picks up the pace as he jogs forward toward Rin. “What’s up, Rin-chan?”
His former teammate leers, but it holds much less bite than it used to. “This asshat thinks his team only needs five players. Tell him I’m better and it’ll be more even if my team is down a player.”
“You pompous jackass,” Barou snarls. “We’re all fucking professionals here. And you think you’re still better than us?”
“Check last season’s statistics. If you can read.”
“Fu—”
“Hey, hey,” Bachira calls out, stepping in between them, “it’s fine. We can sub out, yeah? Play 5 v 5?
“If only we had one more player…” Nagi ponders.
Bachira’s stomach sinks.
“Nagi!” Reo elbows him in the side, then hisses through clenched teeth. “Isagi’s not here.”
“Oh.” Nagi drapes his arms around Reo’s shoulders and rests against his back. “Wake me when you figure it out.”
Shaking away the feelings, Bachira steals the ball from beneath Barou’s foot with a Rabona and takes off, tossing a roulette or two in there for show. “Blue Lock rules, right? We’ll figure out teams as we go.”
The declaration starts a free-for-all.
Bachira takes off down the field, and within moments, Chigiri catches up. Vibrant, red eyes flash with the fire of competition, and Bachira smiles. He dribbles as far as he can, but when Chigiri pulls ahead and turns on a dime, his path is blocked. Without looking, Bachira knows—the instincts he’s honed for years tell him that if he crosses it to the other side, someone else will be there.
With all his might, he crosses the ball over the heads of his other friends. As it reaches its apex and begins to fall, he’s confident that he aimed in the right spot.
“Nice.” Nagi deadpans the compliment as he reaches out his long legs and flawlessly completes one of his impossible traps. It only takes another swing of his leg for the ball to go flying into the goal, perfectly soaring into the top right corner.
The teams naturally sort themselves out from there. Bachira and Nagi establish their teamwork first, so of course Reo joins the team as well, eventually adding Rin and Raichi to the mix. The other team, consisting of Kunigami, Chigiri, Nanase, Hirori, and Barou, find their stride as well. Gagamaru acts as a player for both teams, though whether that’s intentional, or just him not being sure what to do, they can’t tell.
As always, Bachira loses himself to the game. He enjoys the way his lungs burn and his legs ache as he runs down the field. It gives him something to focus on, something to keep his mind occupied rather than dwelling on the sense of loss at not being able to share this experience with the man he loves.
They’re running down the field. Rin has the ball and he’s flying down the field along the outside line. Bachira reads the rest of the field, figuring the best position, and trusts in Rin’s acuity. He and Isagi still fight neck and neck for control of the field whenever they play together, but without Isagi there—
Rin crosses the ball. It soars up and over, blazing past everyone’s heads, but Bachira immediately knows something is wrong. Rin, the man with the highest accuracy out of any player Bachira has ever seen, put too much power behind his shot.
“Rin-chan?”
He barely gets the question out before Rin is cutting him off. “Shut it, Bobcut. Just go get the ball.”
Bachira shrugs and chases after the ball once it flies out of bounds. He’s the closest anyway. Once the ball hits the ground it bounces at an odd angle, spinning in a wild direction and continuing its path down the long hallway that leads back to the locker rooms.
It’s mildly annoying, considering Bachira has to slow down to walk so as to not ruin his cleats on the concrete floor, but he catches up to the ball anyway just before it enters the locker room. He sighs as he picks up the ball. Absently, he runs his fingers along the seams, tracing the black pentagon in front of him.
“Hey, Bachira. Pass it back.” Someone calls out to him, their voice echoing against the concrete walls.
He kicks it down the hallway, perfectly in the center, then follows its trail. As he does, a silhouette traps the ball beneath its foot. Bachira’s eyes narrow. The man’s form looks vaguely familiar, but it’s hard to tell with the bright arena lights behind them. He picks up the pace, a voice in the back of his mind pulling him forward quicker, as if somehow, something incredible is waiting on the other side.
When he gets close enough to the end of the hallway, Bachira’s heart skips a beat.
“Isagi?”
The corner of Isagi’s mouth curves into a smile. “Hey.”
Before he can realize it, Bachira is running forward. Of course, Isagi manages to catch him, just like he does every time, not even stumbling for a single step when Bachira pounces on him.
It’s like a missing piece of the puzzle falls into place. Bachira is complete; he’s whole. His Isagi is here, with his strong arms wrapped around him and soft lips pressing against his own. He can feel Isagi smiling into the kiss, and he knows he is too. Bachira’s legs wrap around Isagi’s waist and he cups both sides of his boyfriend’s face, holding him in place, as if he would somehow disappear if he were to let go.
“I missed you,” he whispers when they finally pull away.
“I missed you, too.” Isagi sets Bachira down gently, but doesn’t let go, instead keeping his hands resting on Bachira’s waist. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Bachira leans in to kiss him again. It’s a sensation he never wants to tire of, no matter how many times he does it, and it’s been so long since he’s been able to see Isagi, it’s almost impossible to do anything other than finally receive the contact he’s been deprived of.
Even still, something feels off.
“I thought you couldn’t make it! What happened to having practice and a press conference?”
Isagi bites his lip to hold back a smile. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“You could have just let me know you were coming. I’d be happy to see you either way.”
“I know.” Isagi’s grip loosens on Bachira’s waist. There’s a tension in the air, like the universe knows that something is happening, and somehow Bachira isn’t privy to the information. “But I had something else in mind, too.”
Keeping his foot on the ball, Isagi bends down onto one knee. Bachira’s breath hitches and his heart pounds against his ribs.
“Bachira Meguru,” Isagi starts, digging a box out of his pocket and then holding it in front of him, “Since meeting you at Blue Lock, you’ve changed my life completely. I—”
Excitement buzzes under Bachira’s skin and the words jump from his throat before he can think any better of it. “Just ask me already.”
Instead of rebuking him, Isagi just smiles, and it pulls one from Bachira in return. “Fine.” He grabs the ring and Bachira outstretches his hand, letting him slide it on his finger. “I’m glad I met you. And you’ll never have to worry about being alone. Bachira Meguru, will you marry me?”
Giving Isagi an answer is the easiest thing Bachira has ever done. Being with Isagi feels natural, like breathing, or playing soccer. It’s a question he’s hoped to one day answer since the moment his eyes fluttered open and saw the first person who ever made him not feel completely alone. For him, it’s always been Isagi.
“Yes, of course,” he finally answers.
The moment he does, Isagi stands up and pulls him into another kiss. This time, it’s more heated, and Isagi’s tongue swipes across Bachira’s lips. It’s hard to do as they both keep smiling, but they manage. Bachira grounds himself by placing his hands on Isagi’s chest, feeling his natural warmth and the strong, hardened muscle underneath. He has to keep himself from letting his hands wander, knowing Isagi is much less open about affection in front of others than he is.
“Ahem.” Kunigami clears his throat very loudly off to their side.
Isagi is the one to pull away. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are red and kiss-swollen. With those cerulean eyes honed in on him, the adoration and love in them as deep as the ocean, Bachira feels like the luckiest man in the world.
“Now let me see, you idiot. It’s the least you could do for having us all in on it.” Chigiri waltzes over and grabs Bachira’s hand.
The black tungsten band stands out in stark contrast to his pale skin. A thin aquamarine band the color of Isagi’s eyes shines bright down the center. The color is also reminiscent of the same blue color they saw day in and day out for so many months at Blue Lock.
“It’s perfect,” Bachira whispers.
As Chigiri continues inspecting Bachira’s hand and shooting glances in Kunigami’s direction, Bachira turns to Rin with a smirk. “I thought something was up when you overshot a pass, Rin-chan.”
Rin scoffs, but his eyes rake over the ring on Bachira’s finger, letting the slightest hint of interest show over his feigned indifference. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
“So, who is next?” Nanase elbows Reo in the ribs.
“Hey, what are you trying to say?”
“We all know Nagi is too lazy to do anything about it,” Kunigami grumbles.
The others keep up with their banter as Bachira continues to inspect the ring. A warmth floods his chest, and it only grows stronger as Isagi wraps his arm around his shoulder and kisses his temple.
“You like it?”
“I love it.” He rests his head on Isagi’s shoulder and holds out his hand.
“Want to put it back while we play? And I can get you one of the rubber ones for practice—”
“No!” Bachira snatches his hand back. “I mean, another time, but not now. We don’t use our hands anyway. I’m keeping it on.”
“Alright, alright. Just this time.” Isagi guides Bachira back toward the rest of the group and interrupts whatever argument just started between them. “We playing or what?”
“About damn time,” Raichi spits. “Enough of this mushy shit.”
The group silently agrees, abruptly ending their discussions and making their way to the pitch. Isagi pulls Bachira closer, and he lets his head continue to lean against Isagi’s shoulder, enjoying his warmth for every moment possible.
For the second time, Isagi Yoichi has fundamentally changed his life. Meeting him at Blue Lock—learning to love soccer again and finding a way to be at peace with the monster inside him, to no longer rely on the make-believe being who filled his desire of companionship and understanding—was the first time.
And now, he knows what it means to be wholly, truly loved with someone’s entire being—and to do so with the promise of forever.