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Ness had always been a believer, it was his little rebellion against his family’s doctrine of truth and fact, but the day that his belief manifested into something real and tangible had still been jarring. It was like any other day: he had school, and then football tryouts later, and leftovers waiting for him in the fridge. The sun had been sweltering and the noise of bugs loud despite the fact that he was in the middle of the urban sprawl of a major city. He’d been dreading the walk to the stadium since he’d checked the weather forecast at breakfast, and stacked all his hopes on being allowed to shower after tryouts even if he didn’t make the team. And then. And then he’d been down on the grass, mind hazy from the heat and exercise, when the blond striker reached out a hand and offered him true magic: the chance to make the impossible possible.
For four years he’d been Kaiser's loyal servant and magician, working tirelessly to give him only the most perfect of passes. And then the emperor’s crown had shattered right in front of him. A million pieces of Kaiser’s soul sprawling across the pitch for everyone to see. But Alexis had always been a believer, and this was no different.
The following months had been a strange combination of walking on eggshells around their old relationship and building their new foundation brick by brick. It had been a while since Ness had seen Kaiser without the crown and sceptre, without the belief that he could be the best, and he found it a welcome change. When they were fifteen and too naïve, leaving stains of blue on the dorm bathroom’s walls there was no crown and sceptre, there were only Kaiser and Ness. Now after he’d been stripped of his title there was no more crown and sceptre, now there were only Michael and Alexis.
Michael and Alexis still had most of the same problems as Kaiser and Ness had had, but Michael and Alexis weren’t pretending they didn’t exist, they were seeing them, acknowledging them, and working through them together. Not that it was all smooth sailing, years of ingrained bad habits were hard to break, it was like trying to get your bike wheels out of the tram tracks, and then having to watch closely to make sure you didn’t accidentally fall back into them. The tracks that Kaiser and Ness had operated on were well worn and comfortable, the tracks that Michael and Alexis were making were almost indistinguishable from the asphalt. Something unexpected happened and they both blamed Alexis before thinking about it, something good occurred and the praise went only to Michael before they considered it.
And then there was the baggage that they’d brought with them to their first relationship, the things that had started independently of the other but been morphed over the years: that also needed a hell of a lot of unpacking. Ness had suggested couples counselling mostly as a joke but Kaiser had taken him at his word, and after only two sessions their therapist had suggested that in addition to their joint sessions they should also find individual therapists who could help them more specifically; so now they spent a cumulative four hours every week in therapy. Michael was still tense and loud when he was angry, and Alexis was still making excuses for him, but they were getting better.
Alexis let his mind drift as he stood over the stove, eggs sizzling away to slightly crispy sunny side up perfection. They’d made leaps and bounds of progress since then, it was evident in every corner of their apartment, the fact that this was not just Michael’s or just Alexis’ but Michael and Alexis’ apartment. Michael was sat behind him, on the other side of the breakfast bar, glasses perched delicately on his nose as he read through a psychology report published in that month's issue of one of medical journals he was subscribed to. Alexis knew he was fully absorbed into whatever new findings or results were being discussed because he had enough time to plate up breakfast for them both as well as make his way to sit on the stool next to him before he lifted his eyes from the paper. When he did finally look up his eyes met Alexis’ and he knew that Michael was thanking him despite the lack of words spoken between them.
They ate together every morning after Michael got back from his early run, each getting their bearings for what the day ahead of them would hold. It was a routine they had established together, Alexis didn’t want to get up at the ass crack of dawn just for some cardio and Michael preferred to to something active as soon as he woke up (so that Alexis wouldn’t have to drag him out of bed with just enough time to get ready and scarf down a protein shake before breakfast, which had been okay when they were teenagers, but as a man in his twenties he felt the need to be more put together), which resulted in the compromise of eating together, instead of spending the entire morning wishing a metre of the other like they used to.
Alexis took his shower while Michael did the washing up, because he took one after coming back from his run, after which they drove to practice in Michael’s car. Alexis had never liked driving much, it was simply something he had to learn, like all the other things his parents had forced him to do, but now that he was free of their grasp he let their rules and restrictions go, sitting contentedly in the passenger seat while Michael drove.
Practice actually started with conditioning, then they had a team strategy meeting before finally putting on their kits and heading out to the pitch. Then it was drills upon drills until the sun was high in the sky and beating down on them ferociously, at which point the coach called them together to have lunch. Their midday meal was usually catered through the club so all they had to do was take a quick shower and then meet at the mess hall.
Michael was still far and away the best striker on the team but he was no longer their isolated king, instead the two of them would mingle with the rest of the players, though they did still sit next to one another: the assurance that having a familiar body at one’s side provided, coupled with the fact that they actually had boundaries now, meant their therapist had encouraged them to keep in close proximity if it was beneficial.
A reserve middle was saying something about the new show that, supposedly, everyone was watching when Alexis felt elegant fingers tugging at his shorts. He could feel his expression soften, but he didn’t look at Michael, as he intertwined their fingers, letting their joined hands sit on his thigh. The blond had gotten better at asking for the things he wanted, although sometimes without actually asking, rather than demanding them. And Alexis was all too happy to provide.
Stretching after practice was over meant Alexis could run his hands over the defined muscles of Michael’s back without anyone blinking twice at them. He liked knowing that Michael was eating well, was being taken care of (by himself). But all too soon it was time for the final shower of the day and then they were headed back home, radio filling the comfortable silence they’d built.
Back at home Michael threw himself onto the sofa, groaning dramatically as if the day had taken everything out of him. Sometimes it really had and Alexis would find him a while later fast asleep in that exact position, but the majority of the time he was simply complaining to complain. Alexis liked hearing him talk no matter the subject. Although he had to admit that when the rant was full of technical jargon that flew entirely above his head, the warmth that he felt when hearing the other talk was less than wholesome.
Over the weekend Michael hardly moved from his spot on the sofa, apart from his morning run or on occasion when they went exploring. Exploring was what they’d termed actually finding interesting things to do in the city they lived in, instead of simply passively existing there. They went to museums and galleries, visited architectural sites and took guided tours, stopped by farmers and flea markets, and ate lunch at hole in the wall joints they found along the way.
While on these outings they tried to remain anonymous with hats and scarves if the weather permitted or snapbacks and facemasks in summer. They were successful about seventy percent of the time, but usually someone would spot a hint of Michael’s blue ends or catch the way Alexis’ eyes scrunched up when he smiled or laughed, and then it was game over. Several times a person would do a double take and the two of them would bet if they could work up the courage to ask for an autograph (most did). And inevitably someone would post a picture with too much background that caused the paparazzi to descend like a flock of seagulls, which meant they’d have to duck into a shop, or an alleyway, or a taxi to get away.
The fact that most of the time this resulted in them holding hands as they fled was not something they ever talked about, they didn’t need to, Michael could feel the accelerated pulse of Alexis’ heart through the veins in his wrist, and Alexis in turn was adept at seeing exactly when the blush of adrenaline waned but the blush from their touch remained high on Michael’s cheeks.
Alexis too was getting better at asking for the things he wanted, after so long spent tangling their dreams into a mess of threads the only remaining option was to cut them apart, it was still a little novel to be able ask something of Michael, and with minor exceptions, have him complete the request. Alexis could ask for a hug and get one, he could ask him to turn down the TV and he would, he could ask him to take down the washing and it would be folded and put away in their closets in good time. When they were sandwiched onto the sofa together he could lift his head from Michael’s chest and pucker his lips, and they would swiftly be met with the other’s own. Michael was not in the habit of making Alexis feel like their anything was one-sided, not how Kaiser had been with Ness.
It was soft and easy, though a little uncommon, to come to wrapped in Michael’s arms, the rhythmic rise and fall of their breaths in time with one another. Alexis carefully extracted one arm to run a hand through Michael’s atrocious bedhead, the hair was smooth despite how it looked, using the little growth of his nails he had yet to cut to scratch behind the blond’s ears like one would do to a cat. Michael was precious in the same way that a kitty would be; when they got back from practice he would be laid out on the sofa, midriff exposed to the world to catch the last rays of sun streaming through the windows, waiting for its dinner but begging for pets in the meantime.
Alexis let the sun rise higher in the sky, filtering warmth through the curtains, content to lay in Michael’s arms for the time being. He would make breakfast later, and Michael would go for his run, and they would eat together like they always did, and there was no thought in his head about when it would end, when the spell would break: Michael was Alexis’, and Alexis was Michael’s, forever.
“I love you, my Micha.” He whispered gently into the quiet. Michael mumbled something indistinguishable, but Alexis could infer his meaning.
“I love you too, my Alexis.”