Chapter Text
To Alisson, Virgil van Dijk was perfection. His hair, falling to his shoulders when untied and swinging in the breeze. His eyes, rich coffee brown with flecks of amber. His laugh, small yet worth all the gold in the world.
Every one of his facial expressions was perfect. His tight, quiet scowl when irritated, his wry smirk when amused, his rarely-used laugh.
When Van Dijk received his superpowers, Alisson only fell in love with him even more. The Dutchman could sense any kind of magic around him, and while his abilities weren't showy at all Alisson felt pulled in further by Van Dijk's newfound supernatural knowledge.
He was lovely on the inside, too. Calm, regal, loyal and self-assured, Van Dijk had smooth-walked and smooth-talked his way straight into Alisson's heart. There was only one small problem.
Van Dijk never reciprocated his love.
Van Dijk spent quite a bit of time with Alisson, but he also spent a lot of time with Wijnaldum. And when Van Dijk wasn't with the airbender, he was fawning over his own love, Joel Matip. Matip was as calm, loyal and self-assured as Van Dijk, and very mellow as well. He had total and precise control over his zoopathic powers, and they worked perfectly no matter what he was feeling.
That was in stark contrast to Alisson, whose lilac butterfly wings were controlled by his emotional state. If he was over-excited or angered or nervous, they would flap so hard and fast that they would cause massive gales; and any sadness made his wings not work at all. He was anxious and overemotional and not self-assured at all; and while Van Dijk didn't say anything about those flaws, he'd praised Matip's opposing qualities enough in front of Alisson for the goalkeeper to figure out that he was not what Van Dijk wanted.
Alisson had tried many times to let Van Dijk know how he felt about him. Nearly every day, he sent Van Dijk ribbon-festooned baskets of red and orange tulips, and gift-wrapped boxes of heart-shaped caramels. He even sent teddy bears in Holland jerseys. For a time, that was peppered with images of Van Dijk arranging tulips in vases and walking around with caramels, it'd seemed to be working. But then one day, the morning after they'd won the Champions’ League, Van Dijk laid on the bed and excitedly told Alisson about all his plans to tell Matip how much he adored him.
The world had come crashing down around Alisson, and all his hopes and dreams faded to grayscale oblivion.
At least the victory parade had been that same day, so none of his teammates would notice his utter despair. Still, he wore shades--partially excused by the bright sunlight that June day--and probably drank more beer than he should've. Definitely more than he normally would've done, because Firmino kept throwing him weird glances every time he reached for a bottle.
By the middle of the parade, Alisson quit with the beer. He wasn't drunk at all, but he was very close; and anyway, not all the beer in the world could've helped him now.
Van Dijk was in an interview on the other side of the bus, relaxed and happy. Alisson could've envied him. He could've opened his wings and swept Matip away with a gale, pleading for Van Dijk to open his eyes and see how he loved him. See how Matip only wanted to be friends with him, and that he would ultimately be disappointed.
He never did. Instead, he leaned over and kissed Van Dijk on the cheek, prompting laughs and a few rounds of playful teasing from their teammates.
When asked about it, Alisson dismissed it as Brazilian affection. He was very affectionate by nature, after all. But really, it was a kiss that sparked red fireworks in every cell of his body, lit up his soul. It was pure joy, because it was Alisson's first kiss of true love. But, to his utter anguish, it would be his last kiss of true love. Because Van Dijk didn't love him.
And he never, ever would.