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Diogo padded down the hallway when he heard the door finally open and his boyfriend come home— He could already tell Caoimhin was in a bad mood just by the way he grumbled to himself and pulled his trainers off without bothering to untie his laces. The match had been.. intense in some ways, Liverpool did score four bangers— However, Caoimhin had conceded three goals and Diogo could already tell how guilty he felt because of it.
“It wasn’t your-” Diogo started while gently brushing his hand up Caoimhin’s arm.
“You don’t need to lie,” Caoimhin interrupted him while swatting the Portuguese mans hand away from him. His voice shook through his accent which made him even angrier. Caoimhin hated it when Diogo saw him angry— So he pushed him away. He normally told Diogo to leave until he had calmed down.
But Diogo wasn’t having it this time— He didn’t care how angry Caoimhin was, he just wanted to see him.
“You’re not shutting me out again,” Diogo called out as Caoimhin stormed into their cluttered kitchen, “I want to help.”
Caoimhin smashed the fridge door open, wincing at the noise as he shouted back, “I don’t need your help or pity!” His hands pinched the fabric of his joggers as if he didn’t know where to put them.
“You made saves too,” Diogo tried softly, staying a few feet back like he was approaching a skittish animal. “And you don’t see me out there scoring every chance either. Football isn’t—”
“You don’t get it!” Caoimhin snapped, his voice cracking mid-sentence. His hands flew up to his hair, gripping at it, tugging like he wanted to tear the frustration right out of his head. “I should have stopped them. I should have seen it coming. Everyone will remember the goals that went in, not the saves. I keep replaying them in my head and it’s—it’s too much—”
Diogos heart ached at the sight of his lovers pain, “Hey, Kweev..” Diogos hands gently wrapped around Caoimhin’s wrists, moving the Irishmans shaking hands from his hair. Caoimhin didn’t brush off his touch this time but turned away as his eyes went glassy, “You’re stuck in your head again meu amor.”
“If I had just-” Caoimhin started again, his voice less angry now but filled with sorrow.
“None of that kweev,” Diogo cut him off gently, “No one is perfect, not even Ali. Not even Ronaldo.” Caoimhin scoffed at the mention of Ronaldo, “So why do you think you’re supposed to be?”
“Because if im not perfect then im nothing!” Caoimhin’s hands shook in Diogos, “If I can’t even be perfect at my job then I’m-” Caoimhin hiccupped as tears started escaping uncontrollably, “then I’m useless.”
Jota’s heart dropped at the confession. He knew Caoimhin was a perfectionist even before they started dating. He’d watched as Caoimhin would helplessly repeat a routine if he didn’t get it right the first time. But Caoimhin had never actually talked about it.
“Oh meu bem,” he closed the space quickly, wrapping both arms around him before Caoimhin could wriggle away. The Irishman’s body was stiff, fighting it at first, until the dam fully broke. His hands eventually moved and he held tight onto Diogo’s shirt, feeling the soft material to ground himself.
“I can’t stop messing up Jots,” Caoimhin mumbled between tears, his voice barely audible as he buried himself further into his shoulder, “Everyone can see it too. The team, the fans- and I know you can too.”
Diogo tightened his hold, his chin resting gently on top of Caoimhin’s damp hair. “I don’t see that, meu amor. Not even a little bit.”
“Yes you do,” Caoimhin argued weakly, though the words broke apart under another sob. “You just… you don’t say it.”
“Caoimhin,” Diogo said firmly, pulling back just enough so he could catch his boyfriend’s tearful eyes. “If you think I look at you and see mistakes, then you don’t know me at all.”
“But-”
“No kweev,” Diogo gently cut in while wiping some stray tears from Caoimhin’s flushed cheek, “No matter how many goals you concede or how imperfect you think you are, I will always choose you.”
Caoimhin’s throat bobbed as he tried to breathe through the wave of emotion, but all that came out was a small, broken, “Why?”
Diogo smiled gently, pressing their foreheads together. “Because I love you. Because you’re worth everything. Because I would rather spend forever holding you after nights like this than spend one day without you.”
Something soft broke in Caoimhin from that, he buried his head into Diogo again and let out a small whimper. Diogo gently rocked them from side to side, grounding Caoimhin and giving all the time he needs to feel ready again.
After a few more moments Diogo kissed the corner of his wet lashes, whispering, “You are not useless kweev, you are mine. And I don’t care if you let in three goals or ten—I don’t love you for clean sheets.”
Caoimhin’s breathing began to slow, his body finally sagging into Diogo’s arms. Exhaustion was pulling at him, the kind that only comes after too much crying. Diogo kissed the crown of his head, guiding them toward the bedroom without letting go, his voice low and steady, “Come on. Let’s lie down. You need rest, not punishment.”
—
Caoimhin didn’t say much as Diogo helped him change into his pyjamas, only sniffled quietly when Diogo pulled his hoodie over his head and tossed it to the corner of the room. Diogo’s hands lingered on his shoulders, thumbs kneading carefully into the knots of tension there until he felt some of the fight finally leave Caoimhin’s body.
They climbed into their big bed, Caoimhin curled into Diogo while Diogo pulled the covers over them. Caoimhin’s head rested on Diogo’s shoulder as he played with the hem of his shirt silently. Diogo in turn played with Caoimhin’s soft hair, gently threading his fingers through his blonde locks while humming gently.
“Thank you,” Caoimhin croaked out after a while, his tired eyes locking with Diogo’s gentle gaze.
Diogo smiled into his hair. “Always, I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere, Caoimhin. Not tonight, not ever.”
A faint, hoarse whisper left Caoimhin’s lips as his eyes finally fluttered shut. “I love you.”
Diogo smiled, brushing his nose against his forehead. “I love you more. Always.”