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Okay. Alright. Ryusei can do this. It’s not like he’s never sent a message before, christ. Sure, he’s never texted the hottest piece of ass any football pitch has seen- one who chose Ryusei to play for him and proceeded to give him his number- before, but people are people, right?
WRONG. It has been three days and Ryusei has taken approximately 73 photos in the mirror with his jog pants pulled down to show his boxers and his tank top gripped between his teeth to flash his abs but he still. Hasn’t. Pressed. Send.
Actually, maybe he shouldn’t start the conversation with ‘I’ve got a fresh pitch for you to score a few goals over’. Maybe a simple ‘yo, it’s Shidou’ is the way to open. But that sounds so boring that Ryusei’s not sure Sae will even believe the message has come from him. The last thing he wants to do is bore Sae away after all the effort he spent trying to interest him in the first place.
Fuck it, he’s gonna do it. He’s about to go on a jog anyway, and if he leaves his phone at his apartment so he can’t see the reply, then he can forget it even exists. He can distract his mind by fantasising about all the things he wanted to do to Sae when they were changing next to each other in the locker room.
After four more failed attempts at putting his finger on the goddamn screen, Ryusei finally does the deed, throws his phone across the room, and squeals into a pillow.
Holy fucking shit he just sexted Sae Itoshi. He’s fucking winning at life. Before he can even slightly think through his actions, Ryusei leaves his room and goes for a run that will take him away from his phone. He can worry about how the fuck to respond to Sae in a way that will undoubtedly score him a date when he gets back.
Unfortunately, life is not as simple as the lovely version Ryusei’s invented in his head, in which Sae sees his hot bod, mad football skills and charming as fuck personality and falls desperately in love with him. Instead, when Ryusei returns, his phone screen reads:
The hotter Itoshi
Who is this?
I think you may have the wrong number
Me
Saeeeee
Did you already forget what my abs look like? I’m hurt :(
Guess you should come over here and refresh your memory ;)
The hotter Itoshi
If you retrieved this number off a website with the intent of contacting Mr Itoshi, you were incorrect
Do not message this number again. This contact is for professional concerns only
Me
Damn, playing hard to get? I can work with that
So what do I gotta do next? Score a double hat trick?
Because for you, I could do it, underlashes senior ;)
The number you have attempted to contact does not exist
“What the fuck,” Ryusei says to himself as he gapes at his screen, a mix of horror and disappointment settling uncomfortably in his stomach.
Sure, Sae has the whole untouchable, unbothered, disinterested and hard-to-get vibe going on, but that was just the front he put up. Ryusei had put painstaking effort into dissecting him, the brief moments they’d managed to spend together. Besides, Sae hadn’t once actually turned down any of Ryusei’s advances. Hell, he’d even accepted his dubious hat trick reasoning and given him his number in the first place.
Oh. Oh. Unless he really has given him the wrong number. Fuck, Ryusei is stupid. Why did he ever think Sae had fallen for his excuse? They had a deal- Ryusei scored the goals and he got Sae’s number. He hadn’t upheld his end of the bargain, so he’s fumbled the world’s most beautiful and talented man with the juiciest thighs ever seen.
Fuck fuck fuck, Ryusei’s never felt this disappointed in himself before. He’s so good at football, how could he have royally screwed up this badly at the crucial moment? He was one explosion short of a chance with Sae Itoshi.
Shit, he’s probably going to get some sort of harassment claim made against him for sending risqué pics to what turned out to be a complete stranger now, too. Dammit, can Ryusei’s day get any worse? He should head to the pitch and practice for a while to take his mind off the gorgeous ass he will no longer be tapping.
It’s just as Ryusei finishes tying his laces that the heavens choose to open and rain interrupts his afternoon plans. He put way too much gel in his hair to train in this weather. Why does the universe hate him today? Is this pathetic falafel or whatever it’s called that Ryusei half-learnt in school? His miserableness at missing his chance with Sae is paralleled by the sad downpour ruining his plans or some other literature shit.
Well, guess it’s a rotting on his sofa and watching Chainsaw Man kind of afternoon. Ryusei heads to the kitchen and puts a packet of popcorn in the microwave. He’s going to eat away his sorrows, and tomorrow he can exercise off the stress and be good as new, ready to hit the pitch and not even think about the dream he could be living if he’d gotten Sae’s number for real.
Ryusei’s used to recognising whoever might be at his local training ground from a distance. Even with all the new techniques and faces he’s seen at Blue Lock, he still knows the footwork of his teammates and all the other folk who use this pitch.
So why is the guy shooting corners straight into the goal not a player who belongs on Ryusei’s field?
He jogs closer, and the figure becomes more clear. The play style is familiar. This guy seems familiar, even with a hood up to hide his features. But not familiar from around here.
The guy shoots another perfect corner and instead of watching the ball, Ryusei focuses on the player’s beautiful form and the realisation hits.
Either Mikage's chameleon technique has really advanced during their week off and the guy’s decided to grace Ryusei’s humble town with his noble presence… or Sae Itoshi is playing football on Ryusei’s home turf.
Ryusei sprints the rest of the way, and by the time he’s burst through the doors and through to the stands, Sae’s removed his hood, leaving Ryusei staring at perfectly tousled cherry hair and gorgeously long lashes framing eyes analysing the field quicker than a calculator could. And also the best thighs this town has possibly ever borne witness to, even hidden behind jog-pants as they are.
For possibly the first time, Ryusei opens his mouth and no sound comes out. Shit, is he actually scared? Since when has a single fuck-up ever dissuaded Ryusei Shidou from chasing what he wants?
He thinks he knows why. It’s why this whole situation has had him so uncharacteristically bothered, from the anxiety of sending the initial text right down to the devastating disappointment of being rejected. Ryusei doesn’t just want a consolation prize of a date or a one night stand with Sae Itoshi. He likes this guy. He’s insanely obsessed with his football, too. Ryusei wants to actually build something here- on the pitch and off it. He’s all too used to his chaotic, explosive style of football being rejected wherever he takes it, and for the first time he’d felt accepted. He’d been requested to go all out, for Sae’s sake. God, it had felt so freeing to be seen and understood.
Just as Ryusei’s about to dip whilst he at least has his dignity if nothing else, Sae’s eyes meet his and he’s glued in place. He looks somewhat surprised at first, but the expression morphs to anger as he approaches Ryusei, direct and assertive. Fuck, Ryusei should never have come closer as soon as he figured out who it was. Did he really deserve to be turned down twice by the same guy?
Sae stops when he’s only a few feet away. Close enough that Ryusei can see the furrow between his brows and the downturned angle of his lips. Ryusei feels like his chest has grown tighter. He can’t even force a grin right now. He must be staring at Sae like such an idiot, but it’s not like he hasn’t already made a fool of himself the last few days.
Sae shoves his hands into his pockets and lifts his chin up, staring at Ryusei with a sudden confidence that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago.
“You never texted me,” Sae says, his cheeks flushing a shade redder than a few moments ago.
Ryusei blinks at him. What?
“Yes I did,” he says. “You gave me the wrong number!”
Sae glares at him a little, and it’s still as hot as it was before he turned Ryusei down.
“No I didn’t,” Sae insists, pulling a phone out of his back pocket as if to prove his point. Ryusei tilts his head, still trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.
Did Sae give him the wrong number by accident?
“Oh,” Sae says. He’s looking at his phone in disappointment. “I memorised my manager’s number. Shit, sorry. Here.”
With that, he thrusts the phone towards Ryusei, a different contact number on the screen under a contact listed as ‘Sae Itoshi’. Ryusei brings his own phone out to correct the details just as the reality of the situation falls down on him.
“Oh my god, I thought you gave me the wrong number because I didn’t properly score that hat trick. Turns out the great Sae Itoshi makes mistakes? Didn’t think you were even capable of that.”
He leans in, bringing his grin as close to Sae’s face as he can from where he’s stood, just for the joy of watching Sae’s cheeks flush another shade darker. Ryusei can feel the blood pumping through his own veins with a newfound intensity. He still has a shot. In fact, he feels like he has more than just a shot. Sae was pissed that he’d never texted! Sae wanted to talk to him! Oh my god screw winning the world cup, Ryusei feels like he’s already won from this alone.
“Just because I’m a genius doesn’t mean I’m not human. It’s just that the mistakes I make would never lose me the ball,” Sae says. It sounds like pointless ego boosting to hide his embarrassment to Ryusei, but he likes Sae enough to let him get away with it.
“Well, your mistake almost lost you these balls, so maybe you should be a little more careful, underlashes.” Ryusei makes a gesture towards his dick.
Sae stares at him unblinking for a few seconds, before flicking the ball at his feet into his arms without looking.
“Why do I still want you.”
“Oh you’ve admitted it, now- it’s over for you,” Ryusei says, grin monopolising the space on his face as he sidles up to Sae and slings an arm around his shoulder, poking his cheek. Sae could easily push him off with a sharp jab of his elbow or some kind of judo flip. He lets Ryusei do as he pleases, though, accepting of whatever affections he decides to throw at him. Because he wants him.
They may have only played one game together, and spent just a few hours of time around each other before that match, but Ryusei likes to think that’s he’s grasped the gist of how Sae Itoshi works better than any shit reporter or supposed football fan ever has. Sae isn’t cold, rude, abrasive and unbothered like they claim. If anything, he’s lonely, socially stunted, and very bothered in the way that you pretend to be as unbothered about everything as you wish you truly were.
All that’s to say- Sae may be a genius midfielder with a quiet but scathing tongue, but he’s not some stone cold demon. He’s just a ridiculously talented boy, and by some miracle, Ryusei has caught his attention. Sae won’t admit it easily- he’s also a proud creature. Thankfully, Ryusei lost the concept of shame a long time ago. He’s not above begging for scraps of attention from Sae. And, he knows damn well if Sae really minded any of his overeager propositions, he’d have been painfully turned down far before now. He thought he had been, just this morning. And Ryusei was ready to accept the harsh reality, because he trusts that Sae knows what he wants and won’t settle for anything he doesn’t.
But! Fate had other, more benevolent plans in store for Ryusei Shidou!
“Let’s go on a date. Right now,” Ryusei decides, using the arm he has around Sae to drag him forward. Sae follows for half a step before digging his heels in.
“Let me check my schedule, dumbass. Some of us are in high demand.”
“Ooo, I’d argue that the Sae Itoshi asking me to text him qualifies as being in high demand, too so let me just see.” Ryusei hums and taps in a message on the new contact he’s saved for Sae. “Oh hey, look at that, our schedules line up perfectly.”
From: UNKNOWN
Add to calendar: Brunch date with the hottest striker in Japan @ 11:30am today :P
Sae raises an eyebrow at him as the message comes through on his phone. Ryusei keeps grinning back. He doesn’t let his grin falter. A few more seconds aaaand-
“If you can keep pace with me during my cool down, we can go on one date. Deal?” Sae offers. Bingo.
“Aw, Sae, testing my stamina before the date’s even begun? You’re more eager than I thought.”
Sae cuffs the back of his head for that one, but Ryusei just chuckles and breaks into a jog to follow where Sae has decided to start his exercise without warning.
It’s nothing too taxing- just jogging around the pitch. Typically what Ryusei would’ve done for his warm up. Only problem is that Sae is probably the most physically capable guy in Japan, so keeping pace turns the jog into more of a sprint for Ryusei. He’s not too worried, though- not now he knows that blagging an excuse still wins him the bet when it comes to Sae.
When Sae slows down back at the entrance to the pitch, Ryusei speeds up and comes to a stop next to him.
“I kept pace,” he says immediately. “You set off a second before me, and I reached here a second after you. Eh? Eh?”
Sae shoots a withering look at Ryusei’s wiggling eyebrows, but he doesn’t look disappointed. Ryusei would like to think that means it’s a win for team explosion (currently consisting of just himself but hey, maybe one day he’ll adopt a lil’ friend).
“You’ve got ten minutes to change into something nice. Then we can go somewhere,” Sae says, and he walks off towards the changing rooms.
Ryusei jumps up and punches the air.
“Aw yeah, It’s date time, baby. I’m gonna look so nice you won’t even wanna read the menu ‘cause I’ll be the most appetising thing in the room.”
“Keep dreaming,” Sae says, but he doesn’t shrug away the arm Ryusei throws over his shoulder.
“For real, I’m so pumped, it’s so much fun getting to spend time with you, eyelashes.” Ryusei throws in a wink, and Sae’s respondent eye roll lacks any malice.
“You’d better make it worth my time, then, you horny demon,” Sae says. Ryusei’s heart flutters at the tone of his voice. Shiiiit, it does things to him when Sae speaks in that low, sultry voice.
“You bet. And hey, maybe you’ll even be on the menu for dessert.”
A small, snorting sound comes from Sae’s direction, and Ryusei blinks at him in shock. Did he just make Sae Itoshi laugh? Oh fuck, he can totally die happy, now.
“Keep me entertained all dinner and who knows,” Sae says. His voice is level but Ryusei knows what he probably maybe heard.
“Game on, hot stuff. I’m soooo entertaining, you don’t even know.”
“Change.”
“See? You’re already ordering me out of my clothes. Damn, I am good.”
Ryusei definitely can’t mistake it this time. Sae’s lips flicker into the ghost of a smile, but he schools his expression and proceeds to wordlessly push Ryusei into the locker room. This is too good a win to risk ruining it, so Ryusei takes the hint for once in his life and quits while he’s ahead, pulling off his shirt with extra mind of his audience before flashing Sae a wink and slinking into a cubicle to change into the spare outfit he keeps in his locker.
It’s not what he’d choose for a first date with internationally famous football star Sae Itoshi, but it’s better than sweats and a bright pink hoodie. He changes faster than he’s ever bothered to in his life, because the last thing he’s gonna do is risk Sae walking off without him.
Ryusei returns before Sae, granting him a precious few minutes to prepare the worst pick up line he can conjure. And practical stuff like figuring out where they’re gonna go.
Sae emerges in a fucking suit jacket with the sleeves rolled up over a t-shirt and Ryusei drops all pick up lines in favour of whistling in appreciation.
“Were you planning on dragging whoever showed up to the pitch on a date or do you just dress like a three course meal all the time?” he asks. Sae shoots him a look, but Ryusei can just tell he appreciated the compliment.
“It wouldn’t matter what I wore,” Sae says and yeah no shit, but the confidence is all the more attractive to Ryusei. It’s like every inch of Sae Itoshi was perfectly crafted to appeal to him.
“You should follow my motto- the less the better,” Ryusei tries, but Sae ignores him. Ah well, he’d been doing great with the innuendos thus far.
“I know a good place for brunch. Any allergies I should know about?” Sae asks. Oh, he’s even taking the lead with this date. Ryusei is gonna end up more whipped than a freedom-bent racehorse by the end of the day.
“No shellfish or beansprouts, pretty please and thank you, underlashes.”
“You can just call me by my name, y’know,” Sae says, “And that’s no problem. This place is vegan.”
“Sure thing, Sae Itoshi,” Ryusei says. Sae stops walking and raises an eyebrow at him. “What? You’re gonna get tired of me whining your name all the time if you give me permission to use it y’know?”
“I’m not going on a date with someone who can’t just say my name normally, Ryusei,” Sae says, and his tongue seems to curl on the ‘r’ in a way that sounds foreign. Ryusei figures it must be some Spanish influence because damn he’s never heard anyone in Japan say his name quite so deliciously.
“Alright, point made,” Ryusei fake whines. “Then won’t you hold my hand, Saeeee?”
Sae’s scowl hardly shifts, but he does reach out and grab Ryusei’s hand firmly, before tugging him along after him.
“Hurry up, I’m hungry.”
“Yessir!”
Turns out Ryusei was right- something he’s shocked by, himself, because he has a tendency to go in overconfident, and he puts his money where his mouth is when it comes to football, but socially? Results have been less successful.
But this date with Sae? Ryusei can’t read minds, but it seems like it’s going too fucking well to be real. He’s gotten three honest to god smiles out of Sae whilst he’s yapped away about anything and everything, and Sae’s gone as far as to ask him questions about himself.
Admittedly, the questions have been entirely football related, but Ryusei can’t blame him when he’s pretty sure Sae’s never had a life outside of football. He can change that, though. Football’s Ryusei’s favourite thing ever, but there’s a lot of other things to enjoy about life that makes it all the sweeter to live. Plus, without the drama and chaos of everything else- manga, bad dates, asshole teachers, guys trying to pick fights with him on the street, cute boys to flirt with- Ryusei wouldn’t find football as incredible as he does. The rest of his life gives him the passion to make those explosions happen. He thinks Sae deserves to take a bit more passion to the field, rather than a brain that’s been so solely wired for football that he looks at the field as if he’s bored.
So, he’s been asking as many non-football related questions as he can think of to keep Sae thinking, because Ryusei’s a genius and a good date like that.
Before the bill arrives, Ryusei finds out that Sae’s favourite animal is a seagull, he can’t stand fries, and his favourite anime is Chibi Maruko-chan, but he hasn’t watched much since he was a kid. Every time he answers, Sae looks as if he’s figuring it out for the first time. Ryusei kinda wants to squish him in his arms and beg him to learn to love himself and his life outside of his football prowess, but he’s no miracle worker. It’ll be a slow and steady process, but by god is Ryusei determined to drag some joy into Sae Itoshi’s life.
“Finished?” Sae asks after Ryusei loudly sucks the dregs of coke out of his cup.
“The meal? Sure. My time with you? Never,” he says, grinning as flirtatiously as he can manage. It’s a further testament to how well the date’s gone that Sae doesn’t even roll his eyes- just flags down a waiter and requests the bill. Ryusei goes for his pocket to grab his card when Sae gives a sharp shake of his head.
“It’s on me. I fucked up and gave you the wrong number.”
“For real? I’m a bit of a fucking nightmare, though. Most people would say you almost dodged a bullet, Sae-Sae,” Ryusei says, because he can act all cocky and confident as much as he wants, but at the end of the day, Ryusei’s more familiar with ending his dates in a fist fight than with someone else footing the bill for him.
“Most people just couldn’t keep up with your football. I think I’ve proven I can handle you, no?” Sae says, casually handing a card that’s probably worth more than Ryusei’s ever owned in his entire life to the waitress as he looks up at Ryusei through his top lashes.
Holyyyy shit, Ryusei was right. Sae. Still. Wants him!!!
“Scientists have to repeat their experiments, don’t they? If you’re trying to prove you can handle me, I think you’re gonna want to test that hypothesis again, Sae-chan.”
“It’s cute you’re still trying so hard when I’ve already said yes about ten times.”
“Yes??? Yes to what? I’ve made a lot of implications today.”
“Since you can’t take the hint, I’ll spell it out: shut up, come with me. Got it, my demon?”
Ryusei’s never scrambled out of his seat so fast in his life.
Ryusei had assumed he’d set his goals unrealistically high for wherever Sae was gonna lead him, but he’s once again knocked completely off balance by this whirlwind of a guy when Sae leads them out the restaurant and half a block down the road before he glances around for a brief second and grabs the front of Ryusei’s shirt, dragging him into an alleyway.
“Sae?” Ryusei starts to ask, wondering what the fuck he’s spotted to act so suddenly, when his back is pushed against the wall and the words are taken out of his mouth by Sae’s own tongue.
Ryusei’s not ashamed to admit that he basically moans into Sae’s mouth at the sensation. Holy shit, Sae is kissing him. He’s gonna get his dessert after all. That’s what Sae was saying yes to.
Ryusei lets his hands wrap around Sae’s slender waist as he devotes himself to kissing back. Shit, this is good. This is the kind of euphoria he gets from scoring a goal. Playing football with Sae or kissing him; either way there’s just something about him that is electrifying to Ryusei. He hardly even registers that his back’s against a brick wall because his tongue is in Sae’s mouth.
Sae’s pretty demanding with his kisses, but Ryusei could have predicted that. He’s Sae Itoshi. If he wants something, he gets it, and praise the heavens that for some reason he’s realised he wants Ryusei. He lets Sae tilt his head however he wants, grab his ass as hard as he likes, deepen the kiss as much as he desires.
Ryusei could die happy here, but he’s pretty sure he could die euphoric if he gets them inside and on a comfortable surface. Fuck, he hopes he can bite Sae’s thighs. He’s never wanted to dig his teeth into something so bad in his life.
“My place isn't far,” Ryusei manages to get out whilst his mouth is briefly unoccupied. Sae drags him in for another long kiss before finally pulling away, hands releasing Ryusei’s shirt and returning to his side.
“I know,” he says. “Why do you think I was practicing at your local pitch?”
Ryusei blinks at Sae, brain still lightly fried from the fact Sae Itoshi’s tongue had just been inside his mouth, as his thought process catches up to the fact that Sae found out where he lived just to ask why he never texted. Huh.
“Then damn, pretty boy, lead the way?”
Sae rolls his eyes but his hand grabs Ryusei’s wrist and tugs him exactly in the right direction.
Ryusei lives in a beautiful world where he wakes up, stretches out his limbs in the morning sun that shines onto his balcony, and checks his phone to see a morning text from Sae Itoshi on his screen.
He opens the message, prepared to send a less-than-appropriate response to his… boyfriend? Lover? One-night stand (hopefully not- Ryusei might cry)?, when instead he’s viciously reminded of how his luck miserably began.
Sae-chaaaaaan
You sent nudes to my fucking manager.
Me
Jealous??
But c’monnnnn, they weren’t full nudes
I’ll only send you those if you ask nicely ;)
Sae-chaaaaaan
Not a chance