Chapter Text
It was surprisingly easy, Jude thought to make the transition between his summer vacation to going right back to playing at least two games a week, sometimes in the span of three days apart. Luckily, it’s even easier to get his rhythm back, something that apparently the entire world had noticed he’d lost even before he did. The squad, compared to the previous season, was a lot more different and it excited him a lot, despite all the chatter about how their egos would get in the way. There was a different kind of thrill in having to fight for your position and the satisfaction afterwards of knowing that you’d make it everytime. The more he played, the better it was; both for his body and his ego.
The way they’d been playing was precisely why he’d felt a lot more confident going into El Clasico, which was arguably their most exciting game of the season. Their form hadn’t been perfect, they’d obviously had their fair share of losses so frustrating that it made Jude want to tear his hair out afterwards. Still, he thought that if they’d had a couple of bad games in between then Barcelona’s form was definitely much worse. It was practically the butt of the joke everywhere , how their squad consisted of literal children at the front of it. Despite the fact that he’d arguably been thrust into the spotlight from a young age too, he couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if he’d had to play for Madrid when he was 17, without all the experience that he’d had; the summation of the wins and losses that made him the person that he was today backing him up.
He’d gone into it treating it like any other game, because it was and mostly because when he thought too hard and deep about what he’d do once he was actually on the field it always fucked with his head. He preferred to do the same things that he always did, finding the idea of having rituals somehow more stressful. From where he was standing on the pitch, he could see the young Barcelona players making their way up. The only thing separating this game from the preseason Clasico that the squad had played, which he’d missed due to his vacation, was the addition of Pedri and Gavi, who were returning from their injuries.
Pedri’s injury had been shocking, coming at the end of the Euros. But, it was nothing compared to the terrible injury that Gavi had faced, arguably the worst injury that a young player could get. He’d watched the video, against his better judgement when it first happened. It shocked him a little when it first appeared on his Twitter timeline, mostly because he’d never expect something like that to happen in a qualifier against Georgia, when the team was already qualified anyway. If that fact itself had been unsettling, the video was even worse. You could hear Gavi’s painful screams in the background, dulled by the sound of the crowd but persistent enough to form a pit in Jude’s stomach. He’d searched up his name after that, his hands rushing to type in the words before his brain caught up only to find a video of him being hugged by Joselu before being helped inside. It was radio silence after that but it had been enough to make Jude toss and turn the whole night.
It wasn’t that he particularly cared about Gavi, but he wasn’t a piece of shit either. It made sense to not be able to sleep after seeing something that terrible. He’d scrolled through his phone the next day while brushing his teeth, only to find that Florentino Perez had sent a message to Gavi too, to wish him well on his recovery. He’d realised then, just how much the news of Gavi’s injury had shook everyone up. It made him feel a bit better about how he couldn’t stop replaying the video over and over in his head the previous night. He thought about doing something stupid and sending Gavi a message, even though he didn’t know what he’d say. Would anything that he said even be enough to make him feel any better and have an impact?. He’d drafted the message in his notes app too, before deciding that it was a stupid decision after all. He’d exited the app back then, deciding not to delete it either, knowing that it’d get buried under the countless lists he made anyway.
That had been the last he’d seen of Gavi, except the short sighted meeting at the Euros that hadn’t even been a meeting at all because Gavi wasn’t playing and Jude had been too stressed out in that moment to even have the sight of a pretty boy soothe him. Except now, he was standing opposite to him, clearly with something to prove despite his easygoing demeanour as he talked to his teammates. Jude could tell from the spring in his step how he was clearly excited to be back. He hadn’t particularly watched the bits and pieces of how Gavi had been playing since he’d come back, maybe about a month ago but even he knew better than to underestimate him.
If anything, whether they walked away with a win, loss or draw; it’d still be an exciting match. He tried to ignore the tiny voice in his head hoping that Gavi would be the one assigned to mark him, just like the last game that they’d played against each other. Mostly because of the tenacity with which he’d played, making it fun to play against him and partially because of the way their hands had wandered all over each other’s bodies, whether they were conscious of it or not. Somehow, the unpredictability of it made it all that more exciting to think about. Before he knew it, the warmup had passed in the blink of an eye and they were lining up on the field to start playing.
Jude felt his heartbeat settle in his chest once the first whistle blew, indicating that the game had started. He’d been prepared for high pressing and having to work a lot off the ball, even more than the things he’d had to do on it mostly because of the way Barcelona had set up their structure. Gavi was relentless, just like he thought he’d be. It felt like he’d come on the pitch with a personal mission to make things as hard as possible for Jude which only made him want to push back harder. The fact that it wasn’t personal only served to irk him, weirdly enough. It annoyed him, how Gavi seemed to be going this rough and passionate against everyone, that it wasn’t just reserved for him the same way his harsh pushes and occasional responses of abuse seemed to be for Vini, who was known to be a lot more insufferable against opponents than Jude.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, didn't like focusing on stuff like that because it only served to make him feel like he was taking an exam with the wall on the clock ticking. What he did know was that he’d jumped up to head away a ball, only to be met with the impact of another person’s head hitting his harshly.He hadn’t even been able to see who it was, with how fast the movement had been and how quickly he’d ended up on the floor with his hand clutching his head tightly. But, he didn’t need to see to be able to tell who it was. It couldn’t have been anyone but Gavi, if the way his short and smaller frame had slid up against Jude’s much larger one. He’d been able to gauge the bright flashing blue and red colours enough to know that it wasn’t one of their own players. If the way that the body had fit against his was anything to go by, it would be Gavi.
The thought of that somehow made all the blood rush to his head and he got up without a second thought, bulldozing through all the people that were surrounding him to see where the younger boy had landed up, completely oblivious to the fact that there was blood dripping to the side of his neck. When he got up however, Gavi wasn’t even on the floor like he’d imagined he’d be. He was standing with the rest of his teammates with one of the Barca medics holding an ice pack to his forehead that had a bulbous swollen bruise. It was nothing compared to the way Jude was bleeding though, which he’d realised afterwards when he’d been surrounded by the medical team and his teammates so that they could get a better look and bandage his head.
Now that the adrenaline wasn’t rushing through his body, Jude could feel more clearly just how much his head was hurting, like a prolonged migraine that had hit him at a 1000 miles per hour. He wondered if Gavi found it hard to keep standing too or whether it was just him. He didn’t get to linger on the pitch before he was ushered away, the medical staff deeming him not stable enough to play, which he’d agreed with even if it made him feel like his limbs were on fire. Or, maybe that was the exhaustion of all the games they’d played catching up to him. What he knew was that he’d ended up on the bench with his hand wrapped up and his legs tingling while the only thing his brain could focus on was what the person who’d caused it had been doing.
To his surprise, or rather to his agitation Gavi was still on the fucking field. It made Jude feel like an idiot seeing him carry on and defend as if nothing had happened. If Jude had known that he’d be fine, he’d cause a scene, go to talk to the referees and yell to make his case about how Gavi deserved a yellow card; anything except for standing there like an idiot to check up on him like he’d done. Either this guy’s head was made of steel or he was a psychopath, either way Jude knew that he’d be walking upto him after the match, no matter how that interaction went.
He thought over all the possibilities in his head, somehow the same thoughts swirling in his head over and over again making him feel better considering he didn’t have to focus on what was happening in front of him.
The game had ended in a draw.
If it’d felt like time wasn’t passing by at all when he was on the field, once he was off it it’d passed by in a flash. He didn’t even know who had scored but he didn’t particularly care. Most of the ruckus around El Clasico was an ego thing, because of all the rivalry and the history that they’d had. But, at the end of the day it was a mid season game that would award both of the teams a point. Not the best, and not the worst either. Considering how Jude’s head was pounding he didn’t have the heart to be upset at the results and actually mean it. Something in his gut told him that Gavi didn’t feel the same and he’d been proved right when he’d actually approached him, once he was done with the post match interviews. Jude had managed to escape them after he’d informed the coach that he did in fact feel too out of it and tired to talk.
“Fathead. Stupid….you should have been more careful. Idiot.” Gavi mumbled in Spanish as Jude stepped closer to him which made him gasp a lot louder than he should have. His weekly Spanish lessons must have been paying off and he couldn’t be more glad about the timing.
“Excuse me? What the fuck?.” he yelled out while covering his mouth, not particularly wanting their conversation to be recorded even if they were both out of sight for any spectators.
“You heard me.” Gavi childishly mumbled, seemingly proving Jude wrong about the younger boy having any personal agenda towards him.
“I..you collided with me and made me bleed! You were the one fucking playing afterwards!.” he spoke in a hurried mix of English and Spanish, no longer caring enough to cover his mouth.
“Whatever. How can you not even win a header against someone shorter than you without injuring yourself?.” Gavi questioned, with his hand on his hips and it made Jude so speechless that he stood there saying nothing at all.
And maybe that was the better option because the only other option running through Jude’s head was to wrap his hand around Gavi’s wrists to get them out of the way before shutting him up. Whether that involved punching him or kissing him, he didn’t particularly want to think about. Luckily, he didn’t have to because Gavi left soon enough anyway, acting as if their little fight was above him even though he’d started it in the first place. He’d made sure to call Jude a bighead one more time, in English this time before he’d left though.
Somehow, half the season had managed to pass by in the blink of an eye before Gavi even knew it. He’d had a rocky start, by his standards at least. A new coach while he was returning from a career altering injury along with new teammates and a complete overhaul of the staff only meant that everything would be different. Not entirely, but enough for everyone to feel it. Thankfully, Gavi had never been one to shy away from change, he didn’t know if he could boldly claim that he was good at dealing with it but he was used to it.
Despite how it’d started, everyone around him from the coach to his physios told him that he had much to be proud of. With the help of all the work that he’d done and his determination, he’d even managed to return a week earlier than they’d planned. It probably wasn’t much to anyone else, but to him it meant the world. Returning early meant he was going in the right direction and somehow what had started out as getting 10-20 minutes each game at first had evolved into him getting his fixed spot on the starting lineup back. The warm feeling that he was doing something worthy slowly came back the more he played even if the pressure on his shoulders didn’t feel any less heavy. But it was good .
Feeling pressure meant that he was feeling something , as opposed to how numb he’d felt when he’d first gotten injured. It meant that he was alive and moving and he could do something with it that went beyond watching his team play as his knee ached every time he moved. It meant that he could grab dinner with his friends on a weekend, in the middle of the season without feeling like he wasn’t doing enough to earn all the love that he was getting. They’d been in Madrid after having played a match the previous day that had resulted in a win. The only natural conclusion for his friends was to apparently stay behind and spend the weekend here to celebrate the day off that they’d been given. Balde had even booked them a 5 star hotel to stay in meaning that they’d be staying the entire weekend.
Gavi would have denied, if not for the fact that he was in a particularly good mood. Being top of the table before the international break felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders even though the gap wasn’t big at all. If anything, they could all come back and have Madrid win the whole thing by a hair’s length. But, that didn’t matter right now. He’d been trying to enjoy the good things as they came instead of being so worried about what the future would hold. It was something he’d specifically been working on during his recovery when he’d realised that physical help wasn’t the only thing he’d needed.
He hadn’t said no either when they’d all insisted on going to a club afterwards, even if he knew he’d have to end up being their designated driver. It wasn’t a big deal if it meant he’d get to watch his friends slip around and do stupid shit while he sat near the bar and sipped on his soda. Even though they all thought it was a bit sad that he wasn’t even trying to get laid, he thought it was realistic. Most of them liked girls and the ones that did like boys weren’t as famous as him. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to make somebody sign a NDA only so he could hook up with them. It felt…..crass and unromantic. If he was going to end the night in somebody’s arms he wanted it to be someone he really wanted to have sex with, not just a drunken mistake that he’d regret.
To nobody’s surprise, the constant flow of loud music paired with screams that were even louder gave Gavi a headache after a while to the point he felt like he needed to step out. He didn’t bother sending his friends a text knowing they’d be too busy dancing and hooking up with whoever they’d found attractive. He hadn’t planned on taking long anyway, only needing to take a deep breath and clear his lungs from the smell of alcohol and flavoured vapes.
It seemed like someone else had had the same idea too. That someone being Jude Bellingham.
He hadn’t realised at first when he’d stepped out, or maybe he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself. It felt like a funny joke that the universe was playing on him, to find a rival team player during a night out , that too as he was tucked away deep inside an alley, coincidentally the same spot Gavi had chosen to get away from everyone else. It’d almost be better if he’d found him in the middle of the dance floor grinding on someone, drunk off his rocker. Jude seemed like the type of person to do that. What he didn’t look like was the type of person who hid in alleyways to smoke, not when they could very well be doing it inside. It even looked like he’d been dressed for it, with the tight pants that he was wearing that accentuated his thick thighs and the transparent mesh top paired with it; the only thing keeping his waist from being fully visible was the oversized shirt that he’d layered on top of it.
The false sense of modesty almost made Gavi chuckle, it would have been better to just wear the mesh top by itself. Prettier .
“Never seen someone smoke outside like this when they could just be doing it inside a club.” he spoke once he’d realised the itch in his brain wouldn’t go away unless he interacted.
“Huh? Oh..huh?.” Jude exclaimed, slightly jumping in confusion at the voice and somehow looking even more confused once he’d realised who it belonged to.
“Hey, nice outfit.” Gavi remarked without offering any explanation for why he was there.
“Since when do you go to clubs?.” Jude questioned, clearly trying to hide the blush that’d creeped up on his face at what Gavi had said.
“Since when do you smoke?.” Gavi had responded, having no interest in answering Jude’s question but rather wanting to poke and prod at him until he eventually melted like hot wax in his hands.
The question looked like it offended Jude slightly before he shrugged, taking another puff and purposefully blowing it in Gavi’s direction. “Why do you care?.”
Now it was Gavi’s turn to be offended because he didn’t care, he had no reason to. But, Jude should have known that it was common sense for an athlete to not smoke and do drugs. It shouldn’t have mattered, didn’t matter to Gavi and yet he couldn’t help but feel annoyed. He chalked it up to the fact that Jude had blown up the smoke in his face before he took a step towards him, not wasting any time before he decided to grab Jude’s hand and puff out the cigarette on his wrist, not stopping until it was extinguished no matter how much it burned.
The flashing hot butt of the cigarette had left its mark as Gavi tried his best to choke down the whimper that threatened to escape his throat. The only sound that escaped was the gasp that Jude had let out with his wide eyes giving away just how taken aback he was.
“What the fuck? Are you fucking insane? Why the hell did you do that?.” he exclaimed as Gavi took his hand up to cover his mouth so that they wouldn’t be heard. Part of it was due to how loud Jude was being and part of it was because he didn’t have an answer either why he’d done that.
“You’re not gonna be as fun to play against if you ruin your lungs and can’t even outrun me.” he settled on that, wanting to keep the conversation going for reasons he couldn’t fathom himself. Maybe his friends were right and he did need to find someone to have sex with so he wouldn’t run into a Madrid player and accidentally start flirting with them.
It turned out that Jude had switched from being offended to finding the whole thing funny considering he’d giggled at that before tugging at Gavi’s wrist gently to take a closer look at it. Though his stance was still defensive, he let out a sigh as he stared at the burn mark before taking his shirt off, to Gavi’s surprise. He mumbled something under his breath before starting to tie the way too big shirt around Gavi’s wrist, which would be almost comical if not for the fact that Jude’s torso and his abs could be seen through his mesh top. He tried not to spend too long staring at his chest only to look up and find Jude’s piercing gaze staring back at him.
“Are you….you’re wearing lipgloss?.” Jude questioned, not taking his gaze off Gavi for even a second.
“What? I mean…yeah? So?.“ Gavi responded though his focus was anywhere but his own lips.
“It usually helps with burns if you apply petroleum jelly, if you don’t have ointment that is.”
“Oh.” Gavi remarked, not particularly finding that interesting before Jude decided to act on his instincts and brush his fingers against Gavi’s lips to wipe off his lipgloss.
It didn’t take long after that for him to grab Gavi’s waist and start kissing him, switching their positions so that he’d be the one leaning against the wall while Gavi’s body reacted just as quickly, as he started using his fingernails to trace the outlines of Jude’s abs through his top.
He didn’t know how and why but somehow Gavi had ended up with Jude Bellingham’s long veiny hands wrapped around his hair as they both kissed in a way that felt like they couldn’t get enough of each other no matter how long they kissed. At that moment, it felt like he could have done it forever and he would have if he wasn’t stone cold sober with not a drop of alcohol in his body to use as an excuse for eventually sleeping with Jude. He could tell that Jude wanted it too if the needy look in his eyes and his wandering hands were anything to go by. It was Gavi that broke the kiss.
“You like boys right?.” he questioned with a sharp look on his face.
“Well…do you?” Jude asked, with the needy look in his eyes replaced by something closer to disappointment.
“Yes.” Gavi emphasised, not wanting to string him along that much for some reason. Or maybe, he’d wanted Jude to find him again and wrap his arms around him.
“Oh. Me too.” Jude had responded almost instantly.
“Hmm, good. That’s good. Good boy.” Gavi had blurted out, trying to fight the embarrassment filling his veins once he’d heard his own voice. He hadn’t had to try for long though considering Jude’s eyes had gone wide instantly, as if all the blood had rushed to them before he crossed his legs. It made Gavi giggle just how unsubtle he was being before he pulled away from his arms so that they’d no longer be touching. He didn’t know what was going through his head when he decided to fish in Bellingham’s pockets for his phone, which he gladly obliged to, before typing his number in.
This was going to be fun.