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“Can’t sleep, Virg?” Alisson opened the door to the bedroom for the fifth time that hour. He’d been so worried about Van Dijk, who was still recovering from an infection he’d picked up in midweek, that he’d rushed through his shower after training and still hadn’t combed his hair. Van Dijk was past the stage where he was infectious, but the virus had still drained him of his usual energy levels.
Van Dijk buried his head under five layers of pillows, most of which Alisson had contributed in an effort to cheer him up. “No. Who the heck thought that people should be sleepy when they’re sick? I can’t stay still now but I want to stay still. I’m sorry, I'm making zero sense.”
“Not the first time it happened!” Gakpo popped out of the closet, a pair of Van Dijk’s suit pants on top of his head. “These look great on me, huh?”
Van Dijk rolled his eyes. “Where’s the other one of you?”
On cue, Gravenberch marched into the room wearing Van Dijk’s tuxedo along with the most hideous tie in the universe. It was highlighter yellow, glittery, and spangled with palm trees. “Like my tie?”
“Both of you, put Virgil’s clothes back and get out! Go play with Marcinho or something.” Alisson handed the two youngsters a box of caramel candy and shooed them out of the room before turning to Van Dijk. “Now you can rest. Where are you uncomfortable?”
Van Dijk’s eyes had a dull, faraway look to them as he threw off the blanket. He shivered, curling around a large, white, fluffy, chibi kitten plushie. Only seconds after he'd thrown off the blanket, he pulled the sheets around him and shivered again before yawning.
"That's it, Virg. You're going to sleep, and I'm going to help you." Alisson began gathering the pillows off the floor, piling them on the foot of the bed. He finished gathering the pillows and hugged them tightly before sitting next to Van Dijk.
“Lean back.” Alisson carefully untied Van Dijk’s ponytail, setting the elastic to the side. “There, that’s better. Now, tell me five things you can see.”
Van Dijk huffed in wry amusement. “I’m undergoing insomnia, Ali, not a panic attack.”
“Five things, Virg.”
“Well, I see the beige wall. A picture of us after winning the league, my hair tie, the blanket, and…” Van Dijk hesitated, his gaze darting around the room before landing on something. More particularly, two things. “Your lovely eyes.”
Alisson tried not to blush and failed. His boyfriend always knew how to fluster him just to that right amount. “ Bom, now close your eyes again.”
“But I just—oh, never mind.” Van Dijk closed his eyes, humming softly to himself. “Let me guess, four things I can hear?”
“Yes, and stop humming! You’re making me laugh.”
“Well, I hear my humming, you laughing, birds outside and…” Van Dijk groaned as not two, but four familiar laughs filled the air. “Double Dutch and fullbacks planning a diabolical caper, presumably trying to steal Wataru’s secret stash of Pokemon cards. Wait, that slipped out there.”
“Little hard to believe that someone as stony as Waru would collect trading cards.” Gently, Alisson adjusted Van Dijk’s eye mask so that it was comfortably covering his eyes. He looked so different this way, a far cry from his calm yet imposing presence. Now he looked cozy and at rest and…surprisingly vulnerable.
Barely resisting the screaming urge to hug Van Dijk and never let go, Alisson took Van Dijk’s hand and massaged his knuckles. “Halfway there, caramelinho. Three things you can touch.”
Van Dijk yawned. “The chibi kitten pillow Taki gave you, the bedsheets, and your hand in mine. But I don’t see how—” He was cut off by another loud yawn. “Never mind.”
“Two things you can smell.”
“Oh, that’s obvious! Gucci perfume—”
“ Shut up about Gucci perfume, eh!” Gakpo and Gravenberch danced into the room in a two-person conga line. They crashed out a beat on snare drums, and their arms were wrapped with tin foil to look like armor on a toy soldier. “ You two need to get a room, eh!”
“We had a room before you two barged into it! Now go play outside or something,” Alisson whisper-shouted. Compared to the Double Dutch, Pitaluga looked like a mini saint. Alisson didn’t know how Van Dijk put up with Gakpo and Gravenberch and still had time for all the other stuff he did.
“Oh, Marcinho’s busy setting off a baking soda and vinegar bomb in the garden,” Gravenberch explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “It’s Cody’s latest invention!”
Okay, forget Pitaluga’s sainthood. He was just as much trouble as the Double Dutch. “I will not even ask about that. Both of you get Celo and do something quiet together. You’re keeping Virg awake!”
Gakpo glanced at Van Dijk and smirked. “Are we?”
For a moment, Alisson thought the Double Dutch were playing tricks on him. He looked back at the bed and saw that it was no trick; Van Dijk was fast asleep, hugging the chibi kitten pillow.
This time, he didn’t bother to restrain himself. He hugged Van Dijk gently yet firmly, placing a small kiss on his forehead.
"Doces sonhos, caramelinho."