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“Kiss me again, Granit.” Mikel breathed into the Swiss’ neck, licking circles into the space behind Granit Xhaka’s ear. One of Granit’s hands went from its place at Mikel’s waist up to another favorite spot, his lush, black hair. Granit’s fingers played with Mikel’s hair, messing it up, feeling the traces of the gel that would normally keep it together, relishing in the fact it was his hands messing it up and no one else’s.
Mikel leaned back and Granit attacked his lips once more, making Mikel stumble back onto his desktop. Papers flew and pens tumbled to the floor, but neither of the men cared. Both of Mikel’s hands made their way to Granit’s chest, fisting the fabric of Granit’s red under armour, thinking about how just moments before Granit had come to perform the obscene things they were currently doing in Mikel’s office, he had been in the locker room, giving Mikel naughty glances and winks in the same under armour.
“I’d want to pick those up, if I were you.” Granit grunted, half into Mikel’s open, red, wet lips, referring to the pens and paper they’d scattered.
“Oh, they’re nothing.” Mikel said, panting, “Just pointless bills and contracts. Touch me again.”
But Granit did not touch him again. Instead, the man seemed to freeze, his body losing the malleability it normally adopted whenever the two were close, instead returning to its regular hardness that was characteristic of the Swiss’ namesake, granite .
Then, Granit pulled away.
“Mikel…” Granit trailed off, not looking in Mikel’s eyes.
“What?” Mikel said hurriedly, recognizing the look in Granit’s eyes, the vulnerable one that usually only Mikel and a few others saw. “What’s wrong?”
“Something I have to tell you.” Granit said.
“Tell me.” Mikel said, grasping both of Granit’s hands, looking him straight in the eyes. “We do not keep secrets.”
“We are a secret.” Granit said, but he wasn’t expecting Mikel to give a response. Mikel simply looked away momentarily, in shame of either their relationship, or the fact he hid it. Sometimes, Granit couldn’t tell.
“Granit,” Mikel said softly, putting a hand to Granit’s face, “You know how we must be.”
Granit didn’t respond, but by how his eyebrows relaxed, he did know how they must be.
Mikel planted a kiss onto Granit’s lips, but Granit pulled away. “No.” When Granit saw how Mikel’s face dropped, he continued, in an attempt to save the action, “How am I meant to tell you what I have to tell you if we start kissing again?”
Mikel laughed quietly. “Well, Granit, what do you have to say?”
“It’s about my future…with Arsenal.” Granit said slowly.
“Oh…” was all Mikel said. Granit didn’t bother to explain further. Mikel was smart, oh so smart, too smart for his own good. He knew where a statement like that would lead to and Granit knew that continuing to speak would only pain the Spanish man even more.
Mikel spread his arms and Granit knew that meant, hold me, so Granit moved forward and clasped Mikel close, both his arms meeting at the small of Mikel’s back. Mikel rested his head on Granit’s shoulder.
“May I ask,” Mikel said, his voice as simultaneously polite and sultry as ever, as if designed just to drive Granit crazy, “Why? Is it me?”
Granit inhaled, taking in Mikel’s scent, as if it would be the last time. “Never will any of my problems be you, Mikel.” But then Granit exhaled. He had to say this. Before it would be too late to say. “But...Mikel. This secret…us. I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
Mikel steeled a little, but didn’t leave Granit’s grasp. “It suffocates you.”
“Yes.” Granit confirmed. As always, Mikel read him like a book. “I love you and I want everyone to know how much so.”
“You know I love you as well, Granit.” Mikel said carefully. “You…you are my rock, my safe place that I know I can always return to…I’m afraid, if we tell everyone about us, what we have will be ruined.”
“Mikel…don’t you believe we are strong enough?” Granit asked, knowing he did not want an answer to such a question. Anything other than a yes terrified him, much so, but he still felt the need to ask.
“You are strong enough. Strong enough for anything.” Mikel said, looking up at Granit, who was always so strong despite being about ten years younger than him. That was all Mikel could bring himself to say.
Granit looked down back at him. “And yet it is always you taking care of me,” the rough lilt to his voice skewing the softness of his words.
“No matter how strong you may be.” Mikel said softly, “I will always take care of you.”
“Even if it’s difficult?” Granit asked. Despite how strong he made himself to everyone, with Mikel he could be as vulnerable and soft as he really was.
“Especially if it’s difficult, cariño. ” Mikel affirmed.
The two remained in each other’s grasp for longer, like if one of them let go, the other would never see them again.
“I just think he’s neat.” Martinelli replied as the guys put down their trays on the cafeteria table.
“Gabi…you just said you want to fuck him.” Bukayo replied.
“I mean, yes.” Martinelli replied. “He has like, DILF appeal.”
“One of these days, I’ll stop sitting at you guys’ table.” Aaron remarked, groaning.
“Oh shut up Aaron, we all know why you keep sitting here.” The other Gabriel, Jesus, said.
“Oh really? Why?” Aaron asked.
“I mean, Pep was pretty sexy as a player, wasn’t he?” Martin said as he sat down. Since the boys had not exactly been quiet he knew what they’d been talking about. Martin turned his cheek to let Aaron kiss it, as always. “And he sort of aged well. I’d smash Pep, but you’d have to get me pretty drunk first. Aaron?”
“I mean,” Aaron said, blushing, “I guess I’d pick Pep, too. ”
Martin gave his hand a squeeze.
“Martin always sits here.” Bukayo clarified, and the two Gabriels nodded in recognition.
“Hey, maybe you, Martin and Pep could have a-” Jesus began, but Martinelli put a hand on his thigh.
“You do not want to complete that sentence.”
Judging by the death glare Aaron shot him, Jesus really didn’t.
The boys continued to eat.
“Note to self,” Mikel said, taking his own seat, “To get Ramsdale to agree to something, have Martin agree to it in his vicinity.”
Aaron would’ve punched him if his contract wasn’t in Mikel’s hands.
“Mikel, didn’t you work with Pep? Ever seen something you think we should know?” Bukayo said.
“Not sure what you mean by that.” Mikel said, not looking up from the slice of toast he was buttering.
“Someone once told me.” Jesus continued, “You don’t work with a man for that long without knowing of his dick size.”
Mikel choked.
“Oh, you.” Mikel said, with a faux jovial tone.
“Who even told you that, Gabriel?” Zinchenko asked, but he didn’t pay attention to the conversation otherwise.
“I highly doubt Mikel knows anything about Pep Guardiola’s penis.” Granit said, finally sitting down after a small argument with the lunch lady over the size of his toast (“WHY IS MINE SMALLER THAN EVERYONE ELSE’S????” “Because you asked us to take off the crusts…”). “At least, I’d hope so.”
Granit gave Mikel one of his evil winks and wicked grins.
“Granit, what about you?” Aaron asked, hating that he was now a bit interested in this conversation.
“What were you guys talking about? I wasn’t paying attention.” Granit said honestly. “All I heard was the penis thing.”
“Course you did.” Bukayo continued, “We’re playing smash or pass with coaches in the Prem.”
“Why is that a thing we just say around here?” Tomi piped up, then returned to his usual silence.
“Go back to your food.” Bukayo warned, then he turned back to Granit. “So, what will it be, Xhaka? Any coach you’d like to smash? Now and from the past.”
“You,” Granit said, holding up a half-eaten slice of toast and using it to point at Martinelli, Jesus and Saka, “are disgusting.”
“That’s not a no.” Martinelli pointed out. The two other troublemakers nodded.
“But if I had to say…well, I know who it wouldn’t be.” Granit said, smiling, “I’d never smash Arteta.”
Mikel, who had pretty much tuned out the conversation now, perked up.
“He’s right there.” Jesus said, giving their coach a wary glance.
“So?” Granit said, also glancing at Mikel. “Doesn’t mean I won’t say what I want.”
“I think Mikel’s pretty hot.” Tomi said again, then went back to his food like it was nothing.
Mikel’s cheeks flared.
“How?” Granit asked, then clicked his tongue. “Don’t see it, personally.”
“I’m going to finish my breakfast in my office.” Mikel said, his voice strained from trying to keep his face a regular shade. Judging by the stupid grin on Granit’s face, it wasn’t working. With that, Mikel took his tray and got up, leaving.
As he left, he heard Bukayo say, “Nice going Granit! Now he’s mad at us!”
“Bukayo,” Jesus replied, “He storms off from breakfast 3 times a week.”
“Still!” Bukayo said angrily, folding his arms.
“I’m sure he’s not mad.” Martin said kindly. “You guys must’ve just embarrassed him.”
“He did look quite red.” Tomi remarked.
“Maybe it’s for Arsenal!” Martinelli said stupidly.
“Yeah!!!” Bukayo cheered, catching on. “COYG!!!”
Mikel stole a glance back at the guys. Granit was watching him leave, his eyes looking down at Mikel’s…sly dog.
Mikel was going to make him pay.
“Another twenty please, Granit.” Mikel said, keeping his face set as Granit groaned, descending to perform another twenty push-ups. While all the other boys were busy with other drills, Mikel had Granit simply repeating push-ups. Clearly a punishment.
“Holy shit, Granit’s been doing push-ups for hours now.” Martinelli said as he passed the ball to Bukayo.
“Gabi, we’ve been out here for twenty minutes. ” Martin said, looking back at Granit, “But I am a little concerned as to why he’s being made to repeat the push-ups.”
“It’s because of what happened at breakfast!” Bukayo said, sounding like he was in peril, “He’s still mad!”
“Oh, calm down.” Martin said soothingly. “He’s probably just playing around with Granit.”
As if to affirm this, Mikel raised a hand, allowing Granit to stop.
Granit got up and began spewing all the curses he knew in Mikel’s face, albeit in a whisper.
“I hate you.” Granit said finally, before spitting at Mikel’s feet and walking off.
Mikel simply laughed to himself. The same lips would be begging for him not much later.
It was many days later Granit brought up his troubles again. He was doing one of his favorite things (playing with Mikel’s hair whilst Mikel looked over documents) when the thought struck him once more.
“I’m sorry for the stunt I pulled at breakfast that time, Mikel.” Granit said randomly.
“What?” Mikel said, not even looking up from the stack of papers.
“The Pep thing.” Granit clarified.
“Oh,” Mikel still didn’t look up from the papers. “Don’t tell me you really think I’m mad about that. Wasn’t then and I’m not now, Granit.”
“Still, I feel bad. Because of what you said about not wanting anyone to know and I don’t know, I just thought if I had continued maybe I would’ve accidentally made it too obvious that we were-”
“Oh, cariño, those two things are barely even related. ” Mikel reassured, finally putting down the papers to give Granit a quick glance. “You’re good. We’re good.”
“But…Mikel…I’m scared.” Granit said, starting to twist Mikel’s hair nervously, “Scared that if…no when …I leave Arsenal,”
Mikel flinched at the finality of his statement. At least he knew convincing Granit was out of the question.
“If we don’t…if we can’t define…if what we have isn’t strong enough,” Granit trembled a little, not fully sure of what words to use, “Then we won’t survive.”
That was it. That was what Granit was so terrified of. He was scared that if he and Mikel never solidified what they had, never told anybody, that when Granit left it would be unable to continue. After all, how is Granit meant to give Mikel sly glances all the way from Germany?
Mikel remained silent. Then he clicked his tongue. He rose from his seat, turning, meeting Granit at eye level (as best as he could, despite their height difference). Then, awkwardly stepping around his office chair, he opened his arms wide.
“Come here,” he ordered. Granit threw himself into Mikel’s arms, leaning down just so he could rest his face on the nape of Mikel’s neck. Mikel rubbed the small of his back as Granit let out ugly sobs.
“If I have ever made you feel as if this…what we have…is some sort of weak… illicit affair, in which the moment you leave my heart will not be torn into a million pieces, that is my mistake and I apologize for it.
“You are my everything, and because of that, I cannot hold you back or make you stay. But if you think we may not be strong enough, or that when you leave I will no longer love you, you’re very very wrong, cariño. I don’t think I could forget you, no matter how hard I tried. I believe we are strong enough. You are as strong as a million oxen. I am weak for not being proud enough of you to show everyone.”
Granit’s sobs paused and he pulled away from Mikel to look him in the eyes.
“No, Mikel, don’t say you’re weak.” Granit said, despite himself. “You’re just careful, ever so careful…”
Mikel looked at Granit’s face, tear-stricken. Mikel would rip up all his coaching contracts and brand deals to use as tissues to wipe Granit’s tears, if only it meant he would never shed them again.
“Weak, weak, weak me.” Mikel repeated. “But I’m gonna show you how strong I can be for you. Granit, I would destroy everything as long as it meant I could keep you, burn down the Emirates, I’d…”
“I get the point, Mikel.” Granit said, smiling a little, despite the tears still on his face. “Just don’t say anything to get your contract totaled.”
Mikel laughed crisply, enjoying the light feeling that always came whenever Granit got a laugh out of him. Then he pressed his and Granit’s lips together, not a hungry, dirty kiss, but a soft one, as if Mikel was trying to say, thank you for being mine.
They stayed like that for a bit, relishing in each other. Eventually, Granit pulled away.
“Sorry,” Granit said, cracking his wicked grin, “Your beard was starting to chafe.”
“You wound me, Granit Xhaka.” Mikel said, sitting back in his office chair. ‘You wound me.”
“Martin, I can’t believe you’re having cereal for breakfast.” Aaron said as the pair sat down at the table.
“What? Cereal is nutritious as hell nowadays.” Martin replied.
“Martin,” Aaron replied, “It’s Lucky Charms.”
“Leave me alone, Aaron.” Martin teased, putting his spoon in Aaron’s face, “Maybe have some and you’ll understand.”
“Oh, no way in hell!” Aaron said, smiling and going pink, swatting away Martin’s spoon.
“Get a motherfuckin’ room. ” Jesus said, sitting down at the space across from them.
“I’m sorry you’re jealous because you’re alone, Gabriel.” Martin said simply, eating a spoon of the Lucky Charms.
“He’s not alone!” Martinelli said, sitting down next to Gabriel.
“He has us!” Bukayo finished, sitting on Gabriel’s other side.
“And what a ball that must be.” Aaron muttered.
“Ball? Why are we talking about ball at the table?” Mikel chided.
“I’m pretty sure Aaron meant-” Jesus began.
“Don’t.” Martinelli cut him off. “You’ll ruin Aaron’s only good joke.”
“I think Aaron has quite a good number of jokes.” Granit said helpfully, taking a seat next to Mikel, which, as always, made Mikel go a little pink.
“Well, we all know how terrifying it is when you think, Xhaka.” Tomi said wisely, then returned to his food.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t put a candle to your thoughts.” Mikel said.
Granit shot him a glance.
“Also, I have an announcement to make.” Mikel said, taking in a breath. He took his empty glass and hit his metal spoon against it, effectively shushing the group. “It’s about me and Xhaka.”
“If it’s about you two being a couple,” Bukayo said immediately, “Please save us the awkward planned speech, the handholding, the adorable glance at each other and the kiss.”
Mikel was stunned into silence.
“Guess it is.” Bukayo said. “I think we all owe-”
“Tomi something, yes.” Tomi completed, and held out a hand. Slowly, but surely, the entire squad passed differing amounts of money into Tomi’s waiting hand. At the end of it, Tomi looked to have about 300 or so pounds in cash.
“I bet on it the day you two looked at each other for the first time.’ Tomi explained, as he shoved the money into his wallet, “And as the days went on, more and more of the guys bet. Finally I can reap my reward.”
Tomi, content with the amount of words he had said, continued to silently store his earnings.
“Wow, okay.” was all Arteta could say.
“I guess the hard part’s over.” Granit said.
“Wait…so that time with Pep and stuff…was that some kind of weird humiliation k-” Jesus was stopped by Martinelli again.
“I really think you should tell me the things you want to say before you say them.”
“Okay but like. Arteta, since we know you like dick now,” Bukayo continued, “Pep? Yes or no?”
“You people have issues.” Mikel said simply, buttering his toast. After a pause, he added, “However I will say this. I doubt it is possible to work with Pep Guardiola for that long, in such close proximity…and not fall for him.”
The table erupted and Mikel smiled inwardly, enjoying the sounds of laughter from his players. Granit gave him an eyebrow, as if to ask, better than me?
Mikel gave him the smallest shake of the head.
Don’t think there could be anyone better than you.