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It was supposed to be a normal day in Kirkby. The players had returned from national duty for a couple of weeks of chilling at their training ground, before jetting off to Germany for preseason. It was supposed to be calm and relaxing.
That's how it was, until Thiago popped out of the kitchen with Alisson's guitar and started serenading Tsimikas. How Thiago even persuaded Alisson to borrow the guitar, Tsimikas would never know.
You're loved like I could never tell you
Above the large eyebags are the dreamiest eyes
Sometimes I swear that you aren't who you say you are
You're a male Aphrodite in disguise
Tan hermoso!
"Thiago, stoooop!" Tsimikas groaned, ducking behind the cafeteria counter. Embarrassment was a rare emotion for Tsimikas, but he was currently blushing like crazy at the scene in front of him. Thiago was strumming away on the guitar--damn, Alisson really needed to give Thiago some guitar lessons--and singing at the top of his lungs. In front of ALL. THEIR. TEAMMATES!
Alexander-Arnold and Robertson, that pair of devils, were laughing like crazy while filming the whole thing. Van Dijk looked like he wanted to burn to ash on the spot, Nunez and Gakpo were singing backup, and the rest of the team were just standing there with their mouths wide open.
"Thiago, it's not the time for this, okay?" Tsimikas tried to hide behind a salt shaker, then planted his face into the counter upon realizing how ridiculous that was. "Maybe later can be the time for this, but now? No way!"
"No way to the other part, either!" Bajcetic yelled, covering his eyes with the book he'd been reading. "Some of us have innocent eyes to spare!"
Nunez snickered under his breath, holding his maracas in one hand. "I knew we should've sang 'Despacito'."
Bajcetic scowled, shaking his head. "Nothing's gonna make me look at that mushfest," he said firmly. "Not even 'Despacito'!"
Unfortunately, Thiago was never able to take a hint. He began to sing "Despacito" so loudly that everyone in the room began to laugh.
Despacito
Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito
Deja que te diga cosas al oído
Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo
Despacito
Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito
Firmar las paredes de tu laberinto
Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito (sube, sube, sube)
(Sube, sube) Oh
Tsimikas' face turned bright red as he hid behind the counter. He'd always loved how Thiago would serenade him with Spanish love songs, bringing up a fluttery feeling inside him. Thiago was no good with any instruments or song-writing skills, but his singing voice was a melody like no other. He was the only one who could make Tsimikas feel this way, something priceless and—well, tender.
It was often said that Thiago's love language was food. From a glass of water to a four-course meal, Thiago could turn a mess into a masterpiece with his cooking knowledge. It was often said that he had a gift, even by Jennings, the master chef in Kirkby.
Tsimikas, on the flip side, was hopeless with cooking. The others joked that he could ruin a piece of toast simply by walking by it. Tsimikas wasn't offended, because that wasn't too far from the truth. After all, cooking wasn't his calling--it was music.
When not training or hanging out with the team, Tsimikas could be found in Kirkby's music room, at his DJ booth with his stack of vinyl records. He was the team's master DJ, and often wrote his own rap songs. Most of them were inspired by his teammates and their stories, and didn't exactly turn out right; but some of them ended up being glorious.
Tsimikas slowly emerged from behind the counter and smiled at Thiago. He took out his phone and pressed the play button on his music app. Soft instrumental music floated out of the speaker, surprising everyone.
Setting the phone on the counter, Tsimikas reached into his pocket and unfolded a sheet of notebook paper. It had been waiting to see the sunlight for days on end--and to meet Thiago's ears.
You're a walking image of perfection, talent oozes out of your reflection
You're like a Grand Velas Taco in Mexico City
I'm more like a gnarly root growing random shoots
I'm not exactly conventionally pretty
Thiago nearly dropped the guitar, but instead chose to lay it down carefully upon a nearby chair. "Kosty."
Tsimikas continued singing, even though his heart beat in his chest. He’d never really sung in front of his teammates before, even as a joke. He’d always stuck to rapping; it was his comfort zone.
You're a gorgeous David Beckham
And I'm more of a Ribery
But when I look in the mirror, I can't help but see you standing right beside me
I gave you nothing, you gave me everything
Yet somehow you still stand beside me
A wrinkled prune with ancient eyebags
Standing next to a Gucci suit
Looking like a pile of rags
A rusty penny standing next to the treasury of Beirut
I don't deserve the patience, and I don't deserve the loyalty
Yet you're still in the mirror, standing beside me
Thiago slowly approached Tsimikas, his eyes brimming with love and admiration. He reached out and held Tsimikas' hand, his grip firm and sure.
"Konstantinos Tsimikas, never let me hear you say those words again. You are my entire world, you gave me so much. You gave me a reason to wake up and play football, even after the most pain-in-the-butt injuries, and you taught me that I don't have to be flawless to be loved. I mean, you are the exact opposite of flawless, and you make a whole lotta mistakes, but we still need you. I still need you."
Tsimikas clapped his hand over his mouth, trying to hide the rising color in his cheeks. He didn't want to be emotional in front of the whole team, but the words Thiago had spoken were too powerful for him to ignore. He was overwhelmed with a mix of joy and relief, and he knew that if he said anything, he would start to cry.
He flung himself into Thiago's arms, hugging him tighter than ever. " S'agapo , Thiago."
"Te amo, mi vida."
"Ay Tios, idos a un hotel!" But Bajcetic grinned as he watched his "tios" embrace. Undoubtedly there was a kiss too, but Bajcetic didn't need to see that. "You still act like teenagers sometimes."
Thiago broke away from Tsimikas, pinching Bajcetic's cheeks. "And you're still our adorable baby boy!"
Bajcetic groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'm eighteen years old, not eighteen days!"
"Whatever." Tsimikas hugged Bajcetic as well, brushing a stray curl away from his face. "As long as I'm with Thiago, you're our baby boy."
Van Dijk watched on with a warm yet cryptic smirk, while Alisson gushed over the couple. The fullbacks were singing “Just One Kiss” at maximum volume, and Nunez and Gakpo whistled in the background while exchanging cheeky grins.
It was perfectly chaotic.