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Lamine didn't feel any different when he woke up this morning.
As he dragged himself away from the warm comfort of his bed, persistent alarm continuing to blare in the background, he only felt the usual drowsiness and mild annoyance. The cold bathroom floor knocks some lucidity into him, making him open his eyes for the first time this morning. His reflection on the big bathroom mirror wasn't visible, the room still shrouded in darkness, and his eyes quickly closed again after he swiped the light switch.
When they reopen, Lamine nearly thinks he's still dreaming.
Because yes, what's staring back at him is definitely still him. His eyes, his eyebrows, his lips.
But the two things at the top of his head...
Lamine blinks. Once. Twice. Six times, maybe. They don't go away after the sixth blink.
Willing his hands not to shake, he reaches up slowly, closer to the new tufts of... hair? Please let it just be hair.
He prays that they're just a byproduct of sleeping weirdly, but he freezes when they twitch at the graze of his fingers.
"What the fuck ."
He moves closer to the mirror, hands gripping the sink hard for any sort of anchor, and he can feel his soul flying away more and more as each second passes. His hands move frantically, petting and ruffling at his own hair and the new... set of ears he apparently has now. They're stark blond, just like his newly dyed hair, and they're attached as if they've always been there. Sleep and annoyance have fully melted away from his body now, growing panic and bewilderment taking their place.
The ears stick up stubbornly, just like a cat's, and he's come to find that they move . They seem to be both connected to Lamine and have a mind of their own, twitching away when he pulls at them too hard, but also perking up when he raises his eyebrows or hears a noise outside his bathroom.
Several minutes pass, and if he doesn't get a move on, he's going to be late for training. Flick's disappointed glare appears in his head, he wonders what his manager's expression will morph into when he shows him the situation. The thought of making Flick jaw-drop in front of the whole team draws a shaky laugh out of him. He'll probably still be benched for the upcoming game anyway.
More minutes spent freaking out ensue ( What if someone takes pictures? What will everyone say? Should he just lean into it? Should he post a selfie right now, ears and everything, and throw his phone down the toilet? ) before he finally sighs in acceptance, initial anxiety mellowing out.
The ears are actually not that bad, he's gotten used to them in the span of thirty minutes, and honestly, they're kind of cool. It's a mantra he repeats as he pries his fingers off the sink, willing himself to calm down.
They're not that bad. They're kind of cool. He will figure this out later. It'll figure itself out later.
He moves to take a shower, undresses, and screams .
Lamine drags his feet as he enters the training pitch. He's late, has a beanie over his head, and a literal tail between his legs.
Not that he's showing it.
After having to constantly reassure his mother as she drove him to training ( No, he's not sick, he just overslept. Yes, he's fine, there was just a bug in the shower. No, he didn't dye his hair again, he just didn't have time to style it this morning. ) Lamine has decided that the game plan is to hide his new features for as long as possible. Hindsight, that was probably not the smartest of decisions. He can't hide them forever, he'll have to come clean sometime, obviously. But who does he tell first, if he's already lying to his own mother? One of the guys? Flick? The medical staff? Laporta ? Maybe he should buy a one-way ticket and live in the mountains, somewhere, disappear entirely.
Flick is already pointing at his watch as Lamine nears the group. The manager's frown turns questioning as Lamine simply ducks his head, no sign of the usual shining grin and smarty retort. The guys jeer as they spot their youngest, the only person late for today's training. Lamine forces a grin, not wanting to cause any suspicion.
"What's up with the shorts?" Ale asks him, looking down at Lamine's neatly pulled-up training shorts, an unusual sight on the youngster. Unfortunately, he can't really sag without letting everybody know he has a tail. Lamine could only mutter out a lame response about his mother that Ale knows is bullshit, and the teasing smile doesn't leave the older boy's face.
They leave him alone after a few minutes, and he tries his best to act as if nothing's out of the ordinary. He's not very good at it, proven by the constant questions and looks from the others as training goes by. Even Ale stops joking at him, looking more worried as training continues. Flick has him running extra laps for his tardiness, and that’s when he knows turmoil must be showing on his face, since the punishment is laughably soft.
It doesn't help that he's kind of shit at training today. Tying his tail to one leg seemed like a good idea at the time, but right now, when he has to turn and step around quickly, he feels off-kilter. It manifests in him being uncharacteristically clumsy throughout the whole session, tripping over himself like he's just learned how to walk, and losing 1v1s he would usually win with his agility. The new ears underneath his beanie constantly twitch in frustration.
His team loses, obviously, and a lot of the blame can go to him. Losing the ball, losing duels, not defending his man. It was as if his entire body was playing against him. He wants to go left, but his foot slips to the right. He attempts a dribble, and it's like the ball just doesn't want to move with him. He's never played that badly in his entire life. For those forty-five minutes of play, he absolutely hated football. The guys are nice about it, however, sensing something must be wrong with him today. Pedri pats his shoulder, Jules ruffles his beanie (which he dodges), and Cuba just smiles at him, more kind and reassuring than usual. Lamine looks away almost instantly, flustered and eyes stinging.
It's obvious that Flick wants to talk to him, the concern in his stare is unavoidable. But as soon as training ends, he ignores the manager and goes straight to the lockers, a hard lump forming in his throat.
Fuck. He can't go on like that. He can't play like that. He has to tell someone. He has to do something.
But do what? How does he even explain this? They're going to think he's crazy. They're going to think he's a freak of nature. They-
"Lamine! Hey, wait up, man!"
He flinches at Ale's voice, speeding up towards the changing rooms. Lamine nearly slams the door in the older boy's face, would've probably broken his nose if not for Ale catching the handle in time.
"Bro, what the hell is up with you today?" Ale looks confused as Lamine drags out his bag with unnecessary force, cursing as his things clatter onto the floor. Ale watches on as he stuffs everything with trembling hands. He's never seen Lamine this shaken up before, the young boy always oozed confidence, has the maturity of someone with at least twenty years under their belt. Right now, he looked like the kid he actually is for the first time in months, scared and small.
Lamine moves to stand with his bag gripped tightly around him, and Ale thinks there’s no way he’s letting this boy leave without explaining himself. Lamine’s just about to shoulder past him when Ale tugs on his bag’s straps, forcing him to turn around.
A hand finds Lamine’s arm. “Hey, don’t run away–”
“Don’t touch me!” He pushes Ale back, surprising the older boy.
“Lamine, you’re–”
“Just fuck off! ”
Harsh breaths fill the silent locker room. Neither of them moves. Ale stares at Lamine, at his hunched-up shoulders, his watery eyes.
“Lamine…Whatever it is—”
“No! You don’t get it– It’s fucking weird! You’ll never look at me the same way again and–”
“You don’t get to say that! I don’t even know what’s wrong with you, you won’t tell me! Do you expect me to just leave you alone? You show up to training weird, you act weird, you won’t even talk to Flick! What is it?!”
The younger boy takes in a shuddering breath at Ale’s rise in tone.
Ale softens his voice, “Just tell me what’s wrong, Lamine. I won’t judge, whatever it is. I swear.”
Lamine drops his head. When no reply comes, the older boy continues speaking.
“Listen, if it’s that bad, I won’t tell anyone either. Just please say something, I hate seeing you like this–”
Ale gets cut off as Lamine rushes to tug off his beanie, revealing his shock of blond hair… and a pair of cat ears. The silence that follows makes Lamine’s head ring, he forces himself to look at Ale in the eye. The older boy’s jaw has quite literally dropped, and his eyes have widened comically. Lamine pleads with his eyes for him to say anything.
“Holy shit.”
The voice has both of them turning their heads towards the dressing room door, where they’re greeted with a dozen pairs of eyes. Hector quickly clasps his hand over Fermin’s mouth, but it’s too late. Everyone else sends glares at the young midfielder.
Lamine buries his face in his beanie, and lets out a groan that could be heard by the entire training facility.
The medical room is packed, much to the chagrin of the physio on duty. Lamine is used to having company during medical checkups, but never at this high of a number. They’re all staring at him like he grew another limb. Which he technically did, three limbs to be exact. The air is less tense than it was in the locker room, however, with everyone chatting as Lamine gets his ears and tail poked and prodded at by the physio.
He does a couple of tests, asks Lamine to move his new limbs, tries out the ear’s reactions, and measures Lamine’s tail. The physio seems confused on what else to do, not like there’s a certain protocol for these kinds of situations. After checking Lamine’s teeth, to make sure he didn’t grow any fangs, he steps back and looks at him, contemplating.
“Well, I don’t think there’s anything else I can do for you right now.”
Ferran speaks up, “Maybe we should get him a scratching post, see if he’s got any claws.” Eric elbows his ribs sharply.
“He obviously doesn’t, dumbass.”
“What? You don’t know that!”
The physio, Jose, clears his throat, “That won’t be necessary. But… If something like that does manifest in the future, please do not hesitate to tell us, Lamine. We’ll try to find a way to help, even if this is all a little unusual.”
The room quiets as Lamine nods his head. Jose gives him a kind smile, and begins to collect the paperwork. “Alright then, I’ll… report this to the rest of medical. Each member of staff will probably be notified by tomorrow morning about your condition. I imagine you want to tell Flick yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, well, he’s in a meeting right now, but I’ll tell him you’re waiting for him here. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes. Thank you, Jose.”
Jose gives Lamine another smile, “Of course, Lamine.” He then turns to the dozen other players loitering around the medical room door, “The rest of you, don’t let Flick catch you still being here. And don’t ask Lamine stupid questions.”
After Jose leaves the room, with the crowd of players parting for him like the Red Sea, Gavi is the first to speak up.
“Why was he looking at me when he said the last part?”
“Probably because you will ask stupid questions,” Pedri mutters.
“Can we touch the ears?” Fermin asks.
Hector smacks the back of his head. “Dude, are you crazy? Of course not.”
“Well, why the hell not?”
“How would you like it if I–”
“Sure.”
All eyes fall on Lamine again, still sitting on the edge of the exam bed. The youngest stares expectantly at Fermin, who looks surprised that Lamine even entertained the question.
“Really?”
“Yeah, go ahead. They’re not sensitive or anything.”
The midfielder breaks away from the group, walking slowly towards Lamine, like he’s a scared animal. Well, technically, he is one. Fermin’s gaze remains on the bright blond cat ears atop Lamine’s head, and his hands freeze before making contact. He looks at Lamine hesitantly, still not sure if he has permission despite the verbal one Lamine just gave him.
Lamine seems hesitant himself. Before Jose, nobody else had ever touched them, and the physio had used his gloves, not his bare fingers.
Before he could further panic and chicken out, Lamine ducks his head towards Fermin’s hand, making the ears brush against the older boy’s fingers. Fermin gasps as they twitch against his touch, pulling away like he’s been electrocuted.
The two boys stare at each other, Lamine feeling like his heart might jump out of his mouth, before Fermin’s face splits with a bright grin.
“Dude. That is so fucking cool!”
For the first time that day, Lamine feels a genuine smile growing on his face. A laugh starts bubbling up his throat when the rest of the players start clamoring towards the medical bed, all telling Fermin to move away in various words.
“What! I want to touch too!”
“Guys, he’s not a museum display–”
“Out of the way, Pedri! Me next!”
“They’re so cute!”
“Why are they yellow, though? Isn’t your hair black?”
“Can you hold things with your tail?”
“Bro, we gotta take a selfie.”
“Don’t post it!”
“Duh, I wasn’t going to?”
“Lamine, meow for the camera!”
“Oh my god, he actually meowed.”
“He kind of looks like Cat Culer?”
“Please don’t bring that thing up.”
“Does this mean I can just wake up with shark fins one day?”
“For our sake, I hope you actually do turn into a shark. Maybe then we’ll finally get some peace and quiet around here.”
“Is it louder if I speak into your human ears or your cat ones? Wait, does this mean you can hear things twice as loud?”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, dude.”
“Is this gonna be like Animorphs where you slowly turn into an actual cat?”
“He can’t be a cat! Who are we playing on the right for Inter, then?”
“Who cares? He’ll still dribble past those guys even as a cat.”
“I don’t think UEFA will let him play.”
“Wait, is he actually going to turn into a cat?! Oh my god–”
The players continue to bicker with each other as they surround Lamine on the exam bed. Pablo Torre and Ansu seem to be absolutely smitten with his ears, constantly commenting on how cute and adorable they are. Gavi is still a little freaked about the tail, looking like a very concerned Angry Bird, and Fermin keeps making Cat Culer jokes to rile him up. Ferran keeps asking Pedri and Eric if they would still love him if he turned into an actual shark, and the answer is a resounding no. Hector and Ale have taken around five hundred pictures of the entire moment, probably as ammo for future blackmail. Pau Victor, Casado, and Cubarsi are chatting near the bed about Animorphs, with Casado more invested in the conversation than the other two.
Some time passes, and a few older players stop by the medical room, having heard the news from staff. They’re surprised to find that it’s true, Lamine has in fact grown cat ears and a tail, but they’re thankfully nice about it. Lewa says that it’s not the weirdest thing he’s seen, which prompts some interrogations. Raphinha gives him a squeezing hug, which makes him feel a little embarrassed. Araujo and Inigo both give him strong smacks on the back, almost knocking him off the bed.
Players start trickling out of the medical room as the day gets late, most wanting to go home and shower off the grime from training, some just wanting to take an afternoon nap. They bid their goodbyes to Lamine, a ruffle to his hair (and ears), some quick hugs, a light punch to the shoulder, and various wishes for him feel better. Lamine smiles as Ale and Hector give him a fist bump. He catches Ale’s teasing stare before the older leaves the room. “Try not to be such a drama queen next time. Alright, cat boy?”
Lamine laughs, “Fuck off man.”
Hector sticks his head in the room again before Ale can close the door, “Yo Cuba, you coming?”
It’s then that Lamine realizes Cubarsi is still across the medical bed, leaning against a shelf full of medicine. The defender smiles when Lamine looks up at him, but quickly darts his gaze away towards the door.
“Uh, I’ll catch up. I haven’t gotten to talk to Lamine yet.”
Hector makes a face, something in it that Lamine can’t really figure out, and he hears Ale letting out a low whistle from outside of the room.
“Alright then, good luck, Cuba~” Hector teases, winking before slamming the door shut.
Lamine frowns at the direction of the door, before looking back at Cubarsi, who's fidgeting with the hoodie he’s holding and not making eye contact.
“You wanted to talk to me?”
“Um… Yes.”
Cubarsi finally looks up at him, and Lamine tilts his head.
“You… Looked really upset at training today, and I wondered what could be wrong. You’re usually very lively at training, not like before. I definitely didn’t expect… This to be the actual cause…”
Lamine huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting it this morning either, man.”
Pau looks away and laughs to himself, folding and re-folding the hoodie in his hands. He looks like he wants to say something, but is too nervous to do so, it’s a look that Lamine often finds on Cubarsi. Most times, when they’re talking, Lamine has to take initiative and ask Pau a question to force him to do what he actually wants. Right now is no exception.
“You want to touch my ears?”
Light eyes meet his gaze, looking caught and surprised.
“I noticed you didn’t get to earlier, with everybody still around.”
Pau smiles shyly, “You seemed busy.”
“Yeah, sorry. Fermin wouldn’t leave them alone. But, like, you can pet them now.” Lamine hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate.
The older boy stops his folding. Lamine can hear the gears in his head turning as they make eye contact. As Cubarsi approaches, a wave of nervousness washes over him.
Which is weird, since he had spent the past thirty minutes letting his teammates pet and prod at his ears, what difference does Cubarsi make?
Pau is standing in front of him now, one hand poised above Lamine’s ears. He looks down before they make contact, and Lamine swears he can hear a breath hitch as fingers graze the blond ears. If it’s from him or Pau, he doesn’t know.
“Wow. They’re kinda spiky.”
“Yeah.”
“Just like your damaged hair.”
Lamine whines at the cheap jab, and Cubarsi giggles at his pout.
The petting continues for a little bit, both boys weirdly not wanting to make eye contact. Then Pau moves his hand to scratch behind Lamine’s ears. And that changes everything.
Lamine lets out a purr .
They both freeze at the sound, looking at each other in alarm.
“...Was that you?
“I– I think so??”
“Uh–”
“Do it again.”
Pause.
“For science.”
Pau snorts, a little nervous, but scratches behind Lamine’s ear again anyway.
Lamine purrs again.
This time, Pau snatches his hand away. Lamine almost whines at the loss.
“Woah. You are… Really going to turn into a cat…”
“Cubaaa, don’t say that!”
“You’re purring and everything! Should I get you catnip for your birthday?”
Lamine feels his ears flatten to his head, “Don’t joke. There’s no way these things are staying for another two months.”
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.” The ears perk up again, this time catching Cubarsi’s attention. “Did it hurt to hide them with the beanie?”
“Um. A little, they kept twitching. But I’ll live–”
“Here– Uh, you can wear this. The hood is pretty big.”
Cuba suddenly pushes his hoodie into Lamine’s hands. Lamine blinks at the soft navy fabric, surprised and flustered.
Silence passes again between them, and as each second passes, Cubarsi looks more and more unsure. Before the defender could take back his offer, however, Lamine carefully accepts the hoodie.
“Thanks, Cuba. I– Uh, I’ll wear them when I get out.” Does he have hoodies of his own? Yes. So why is he doing this? Don’t ask Lamine that, maybe growing cat ears can mess up your decision-making.
Pau nods, giving Lamine a pleased smile. Lamine returns it with one of his own.
A stern cough from the door makes the defender step away from the exam bed.
It’s Flick.
“Am I interrupting something? ”
Lamine flushes, “Ah– No, sir. ”
The manager then smiles at Cubarsi, who instantly straightens up and quickly walks towards the door, nodding at the two of them.
However, just before he leaves, “Um. See you tomorrow, Lamine. You can keep the hoodie.”
Pau is gone just as Lamine blinks, leaving the young winger with confused feelings and a cologne-scented hoodie. Flick gives him a questioning look as the door closes.
Lamine spent the rest of the afternoon doing a lot of explaining.
First, it was to Flick, which was a little hard with the language barrier. But fortunately, the manager had quickly understood the situation. Apparently, word travels fast around the training center, and the news had reached Flick’s ears before Lamine even had the chance to explain himself.
He assured Lamine that logistics regarding his condition will be sorted by tomorrow morning. What that entails, Lamine has no idea, but he’s probably going to know sooner or later. Flick sends him home with a hug, urging him to stay strong, before warning him about being tardy again.
Then, it was his mother. Lamine had shown her the ears in the car, removing the hood from his head. She, as expected, had absolutely freaked. After a few minutes of literally clutching her pearls, he had willed her to calm down and explained the situation to her. She needed a few minutes of silence after that, and he sat in the passenger seat quietly, looking around the half-empty parking lot.
His mother had first scolded him for hiding it from her, then for forcing himself to still go to training, and then for not calling her as soon as he was getting checked by the physio. He listened dutifully, nodding and promising that he wouldn’t hide anything more in the future. After giving him one final stern look, she had sighed and pulled him into a hug.
“Oh, what am I going to do with you? They don’t give parenting lessons on how to raise a teenage cat-boy-human, you know?”
“Ma… I’m not a kid anymore, there’s no raising left to do…”
“As long as you live under my roof, you’re still being raised by me, Lamine Yamal.”
After that, he went on with his afternoon as per usual. Showered, ate dinner, watched some TikToks. He’s decided to keep wearing the hoodie Pau had lent him, the smell being a comforting mix of cologne and laundry detergent. He had tried wearing one of his own hoodies after he had showered, but it just didn’t bring the same comfort and warmth as Cubarsi’s did.
He’s curled up on his bed right now, phone playing a random football compilation on YouTube, with Pau’s hoodie pulled over his head. Lamine’s eyes droop sleepily, and the memories of today begin to replay in his head. He skips over the bad parts, his struggles in training, and his argument with Ale, and focuses on the good. The guys bickering around him, Raphinha’s hug, Flick’s assurance, and of course, Pau petting his ears.
It had felt good, the kind of good that can calm you down, and the memory alone sends him to sleep in seconds. It would be the best sleep Lamine had ever gotten in his entire life.
When he wakes up, he instantly fights the hood covering his head. Sleepily, he reaches up to his hair, brushing down any sections that might have wildly stood up during the night.
He quickly opens his eyes when he can’t feel his ears. Reaching behind him, he can’t find his tail either.
A dream?
Evidently not. Looking down, he’s still wearing Pau’s navy hoodie, which embarrasses him a little.
Rolling around so that he’s staring at the ceiling, he wonders what he’s supposed to do now, especially with all the drama he had caused yesterday.
Lamine blindly grabs for his phone, opens the group chat that has some of the guys in it, and sends a quick selfie of himself.
[2 Photos]
Not a cat anymore. Sry
Aleee reacted with "👎"
Hector
Whattt???
Aleee
so you told me to fuck off yesterday for nothing?
diva ass bitch
A Fati
OMG Noooo :(
Or yayyy???
Fermin (dont answer)
i was literally about to dare u to lift a weight with ur tail today smh
u sensed it didnt u
pussyyyyy just say u cant do it
Gavi New Number
LOL
Cuba
Welcome back human lamine :D
Thx cuba :)
Hector, Aleee, and 2 others reacted with “Ha Ha”
Cuba reacted with “♥️”