Work Text:
Van Dijk was bored. Not just bored, stir-crazy with a side of cabin fever. Lockdown hadn't been kind to him so far, and even though he ran laps around his backyard every day he still craved the action and tension of a pro match.
He'd started hanging pillows from the roof to box them like punching bags, and set up hurdles to jump over through the main hall. Still, it wasn't enough.
What more do I need to do? Van Dijk wondered to himself. Even though Klopp had ordered a rest day for the entire team over Zoom (after taking ten minutes to get into the chat itself), he'd just finished a kickboxing tutorial, a jog around the backyard, and a Pilates routine. Yet he was still as restless as when he woke up.
More work, his muscles begged. More work! Make us work!
It was like a demon had taken over his body, determined to run him ragged. Yet Van Dijk didn't protest. He couldn't think about how much he missed the team while he was working, after all. So he sipped his tea while wondering what to do next.
Does the lawn need mowing? No, I did that on Friday. I could fix the pipes...wait, I had them fixed two days before lockdown. I know: I'll do my taxes!
WHO IN HIS RIGHT MIND WILLINGLY DOES TAXES?
As if the world agreed with him, the doorbell rang. Van Dijk, thinking it could be the package of resistance bands that he'd ordered, opened the door...and nearly slammed it shut again. Because Alisson was six feet away from the entrance, carrying a leather messenger's bag.
"Ali? We're supposed to be in lockdown!"
"Don't worry, it's fine!" Alisson took a white plastic stick from his pocket and gave it to Van Dijk. "I took this just before I came to your house."
Van Dijk turned the plastic stick over in his hand. Upon further inspection, he recognized it as a negative Covid-19 test. “You really came prepared, didn't you?”
When Alisson joined Liverpool, it didn't take long for Van Dijk to realize that the Brazilian was one of the more affectionate members of the team, taking the opportunity to hug someone or something at least every three hours. No doubt he was struggling with the social isolation of lockdown.
Van Dijk took his gaze off the negative Covid test and sighed. "You still need to go back, knuffelbeer . What if I gave you Covid?"
"You've been at home for nine days. I don't care. Actually, that's my problem," Alisson confessed. "I care too much."
"I get it." So the rumor was true, Van Dijk realized with a start. It wasn't just him who craved affection after seventy-two hours of lockdown. Not like he would ever admit it, though; he was too proud for that. He decided to empathize and remain strong-looking with a more neutral statement.
"It's bad, for sure. I can't even take off my mask to go outside."
Thankfully, Alisson didn't seem brushed-off like Van Dijk had expected. Rather, he came a couple of footsteps closer, barely keeping social distance. It was as if an invisible barrier kept him at bay, one that he strained to break but couldn't.
"I'd wear a mask for the rest of my life if I could just hug you." Alisson fiddled with the strap of his messenger's bag—where'd he even get that? "Well, maybe not my whole life. If I see strangers talking to me behind a mask one more time, I am going to scream.”
“Can't agree more. No wonder they're calling this World War 3, it's torture. I—there's zero excitement.” I think I'm going more than stir-crazy.
"Speaking of excitement...I've got something for you."
At the mention of a present, something in Van Dijk perked up. The last time Alisson had given him a present, it had been only a couple of weeks ago on Valentine's Day. He'd shyly come up to Van Dijk and presented him with a wine-red box of assorted caramels. The fact that the keeper had remembered Van Dijk wasn't a chocoholic only made it better.
"It'll be really exciting, I assure you! Well, hopefully it's some excitement. At the very least, something good..." Alisson reached into his bag and took out multiple things: a ballpoint pen, a penny, an origami kitten. “It's got to be in here somewhere! Ay Deus , please don't tell me I left it at home. Now let’s see: keys, wallet— espere um minuto, that’s not supposed to be in there! Muriel Gustavo Becker, how did your stupid little bouncy ball even get into my bag…”
"Relax!" Van Dijk laughed. He couldn't help it; watching Alisson search through his bag and bring out the most random items was hilarious. "You always give me good stuff. This will be just as good."
With that, Van Dijk closed his eyes, holding out his hands. He didn't expect anything crazy; the few times Alisson had made a faux pas in gift-giving--mainly when he'd just arrived from Italy--it had been an honest mistake instead of simple neglect.
Yet when Van Dijk opened his eyes again, he was not ready to find a bouquet in his arms. It had feathery, dark green ferns; baby pink carnations, ruffled like a classical ballerina's tutu; and best of all, mango orange parrot tulips.
"You...I..." For once, Van Dijk was lost for words. He'd never talked to Alisson about flowers, minus that one time he'd rolled his eyes at a bouquet of red roses in a movie. "How'd you know I like tulips?"
As if the world wanted to both treat Van Dijk to a sight and mock him at the same time, Alisson blushed as intensely as those red roses. "You might have mentioned it in your sleep after the Club World Cup Final. I know that baby pink might be a little unconventional, but I did some research and it said that these mean ' I miss you ', and there were also lilies, but I know you don't like lilies--"
"Oh, stop met praten ."
Alisson stopped talking, looking confused. Van Dijk held up his own negative Covid test from the night before, took a deep breath, and threw himself onto Alisson, hugging him tightly. For now, he didn't care about looking invincible or not worrying anybody. All he wanted to do was get a hug for the first time in nine days.
"I missed you, knuffelbeer .” Was his voice cracking? Maybe he had been overdoing it with the work.
"So did I, caramelinho ."
Despite himself, Van Dijk almost snorted. "Little caramel?"
“Well, your ponytail is tiny, and you're a caramel addict…”
“I am not!”
“Don't think you were alone when you inhaled a whole bucket of salted caramel popcorn on our flight to Doha. And shall we mention Valentine’s Day?”
“You win again.” Carefully, Van Dijk laid the bouquet on top of the patio bench. He made a mental note to himself to find a vase as soon as possible. “Look, I know that we've been in separate houses during the lockdown. But I don't think I can let you go home alone again after this.”
“You want us to live together?!” Alisson nearly knocked the bag on its side as he bounced in place. “I would—”
“Only if you want to! I mean, besides staying in the hotel, we've never lived together before. What if the bed isn't big enough, or we run out of food? What if we get tired of each other?”
“Virgil, stop.” Alisson grabbed Van Dijk by the shoulders, pulling him so that they were only a few inches away from each other. “I’m not worried about any of that. I miss you and I want to be with you, whatever comes our way. Plus. I can always close my eyes when you do your...interesting yoga routines."
"Oh, you know you like it." Van Dijk dusted himself off and took a carnation from the bouquet, pinning it in the buttonhole of his polo like a boutonnière. He took Alisson's hand, squeezing it gently yet firmly. Van Dijk wasn't very touchy-feely, at least compared to his teammates and coach, but human contact felt so good after nine days without it. "Come on, we're going to your house.”
Alisson tilted his head ever so slightly. With his grown-out lockdown hair and oversized sweater, he looked more like a confused kitten than a professional goalkeeper. "But I thought we were living at your house."
"No, knokkelkop , to get your stuff," Van Dijk explained. "I said you were never going back to your house alone, and I meant it.”
At the mention of going back to his house, Alisson balked, sticking close to the concrete pole. “Are you sure? Maybe I should go alone, just this once. I haven't swept the kitchen floor in a few days, and then there's the curtains…”
Normally, Van Dijk would ask more about Alisson's reluctance, but on this occasion he merely nodded and smiled. Maybe this would benefit both of them.
"Don't worry about it. We'll make it work."