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It's the post-match night, after a very successful victory against Sheffield United, despite small threats that almost threw away Liverpool's victory, which was saved by Mac Allister's goal, and what a goal it was! Simply splendid, Virgil said in the locker room, loosening his bun as he looks at the Argentinian with his big shark smile. The Argentinian smiles shyly and goes to stay close to Wataru, who enters the locker room completely wrapped in his big coat.
Alisson enters soon after, lowering his hood and taking off the cap he's wearing, one very similar to Klopp's. Virgil walks up to him, the big smile stretching his cheeks becoming something softer, more reserved for the only one he was committed to after the team. Alisson raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side with a small smile that makes his eyes crinkle. God... Virgil feels himself getting weak in the knees. How can a thirty-one year old man be so cute?
"Hey." He says as he moves closer, leaving a kiss on the top of the cute little curls that were forming again on Alisson's scalp.
"Hey." Alisson whispers, his low, semi-smooth baritone voice is music to the Dutchman's ears, as he reaches out and rubs the area behind his goalkeeper's ear. "Great victory."
"As almost always, you're right." Virgil notes, giving Alisson space to decide if he wants to walk around the packed dressing room before Klopp arrives and starts saying something about how well they did despite the unnecessary pressure.
With Alisson deciding to go and talk to Kelleher, Virgil is once again contemplative of his surroundings, of the younger boys playing, Robbo teasing Trent about having surpassed the poor Scouser in the number of assists granted in the Premier League, Kostas irritating Adrián, Dominik talking to Jota... Yeah, everything seems in order around here. With a silent huff, Virgil grabs his backpack and walks to the showers, heading to take his post-match shower.
Meanwhile, Alisson is having a lively conversation with Kelleher about saves and the blonde's glove getting a nice tear in the first save he made. Both are leaning on the doors of their respective closets, this time Alisson's absence means that the space normally occupied by him is exactly the one between Kelleher and Gomez, even though it is empty.
"Oh." Alisson raises his eyebrows, looking at his large, exaggerated winter coat. "The zipper on my coat broke."
"How is this possible?" Kelleher says, looking toward his companion's hands.
"I don't know." Alisson shrugs. "It just broke. I went to zip it up and the zipper just wouldn't go up."
"Well, what now?" Kelleher smiles mischievously. "Are you going to ask Virgil for his coat?"
Alisson blushes and lightly pushes the younger man's shoulder. "Hey! That's not a bad idea. I'm sure he brought his beige sweater. It would come in handy."
"Take advantage and see if you can find my spare pair of gloves, I must have left them lying around!"
Alisson sits on the seat in Virgil's closet, waiting for him to come back from the shower soon. It doesn't take long for this to happen, the big man appearing in just his black boxers and his hair dripping onto the white floor.
"There you are!" Alisson exclaims, leaning forward while supporting himself on both thighs. "I need to ask you a favor."
"For you, anything." Virgil opens his backpack and takes out a pair of black sweatpants.
"Do you have a coat I can borrow? The zipper on mine broke and it's a little colder than before outside."
"You, cold?" Virgil scoffs tenderly as he slides a long, strong leg through the hole in his pants. "I must be dreaming."
"You know my resistance to cold decreases when I'm injured." Alisson defends himself, this time with the tips of his ears blushing.
"I know." Virgil pats the Brazilian on the shoulder. "Here, you can take my sweater."
The Dutchman hands Alisson a beige sweater, exactly as Alisson had told Kelleher. With Alisson only wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt with the Liverbird logo, he quickly pulls the collar of the wool sweater over his head and puts on the clothing, immediately feeling warm. And it smells like Virgil, like the perfume Alisson gave him for his birthday, the brand Virgil has never stopped using since they met in 2018.
"Shall we?" Virgil breaks Alisson's train of thought, patting his shoulder lightly.
"Of course. Let's go." Alisson gets up from the seats and follows Virgil out of the changing rooms. Klopp is still giving interviews, so it looks like there will be no post-match speeches. "I left my car in the parking lot. We can take it to go back home."
"That's a good idea." Virgil hums, reaching into one of Alisson's pants pockets and taking out the car keys.
The journey to Alisson's house is peaceful. They decide to spend the night there, since it is Alisson's car and there he has the control that opens the electronic gate, making life easier for both. On the radio, Alisson's playlist plays non-stop a variety of pop songs from one of Spotify's automatic playlists, the Brazilian humming one of the songs playing. Virgil is enchanted by the simplicity of the goalkeeper, who manages to look handsome and cute even while wearing one of the fanciest and most expensive coats Virgil bothered to buy to improve his fashion sense. He is really delighted.
When Alisson parks his car in the garage, he is the first to leave it, spinning the set of keys on his index finger while saying that he is going to open the house and turn on the thermostat, which was off when he left to go to Anfield. As the goalie flips the switch to turn on the living room lights, he notices a small piece of paper sticking out of the almost invisible pocket of his sweater.
"Huh?" Alisson murmurs in Portuguese. "What is this here?"
It's a rather old piece of paper. When Alisson carefully unfolds it, he realizes that he can barely see the letters written with a blue pen. With a sigh, Alisson places himself fully under the living room lamp and takes a deep breath, hoping that Virgil, who is in the kitchen sipping a glass of water, doesn't notice what he is doing.
Dear Alisson,
As I write this, from my desk in Cheshire, I can't stop thinking about you, your blue eyes and your shy manner. I know we've known each other for less than a year, but, I don't know, I really like being around you. I don't believe in these things, but I do believe I had love at first sight with you. I even apologize in advance if I ended up intimidating you with my ways. I just hope you know that I love you so much. You are a star, the best goalkeeper in the world, my best friend. I'm lucky to have met you.
Virgil van Dijk, 04/10/2018.
Alisson can't stop a smile from stretching his lips once again. How had he never read this before? He didn't even know Virgil was like that, good with words when writing. And what a beautiful calligraphy! Alisson feels his heart beating hard in his chest, the feeling of being loved for so long by Virgil, all the cuddles, the untimely hugs, in the end, everything had its real purpose.
"Hey, Ali, I was wondering if you- Uh." Virgil stops midway. Alisson still has his head down, looking at the piece of paper between his large hands.
"Oh." Alisson lifts his head, still smiling, and carefully folds the paper, before placing it back in the invisible pocket of his sweater. "It was beautiful. I don't think I've ever received a declaration of love like that."
"Ah- I- I had some help." Virgil laughs as he kneads his frizzy, undefined curls with both hands. "In the end, I gave up on handing you over. It seems like it survived there for a long time."
"It's beautiful. I didn't know you fell in love first."
"And who wouldn't fall in love, Ali?" Virgil reaches out his hand and gently rubs it against Alisson's rough but trimmed beard. "Have you forgotten that you are perfect?"
"Oh- of course you would say that. I- I just didn't expect that."
Virgil gets closer to Alisson and kisses his forehead in a sign of affection and comfort, something that both of them really want and as urgently as possible. "It doesn't matter what you say, Ali." The Dutchman smiles. "I would never lie to you."
Alisson hugs Virgil and stays there for a few seconds, with the excuse that Virgil is warm and Alisson is cold.