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After matches, Michael takes time for himself. To relax and reflect, to unwind. To find out what went well, and what didn't, how to improve. What he needs to do to one day figure out that last puzzle piece that brings the whole world down at his feet.
But not today.
"So he's a little runaway~" someone behind him says and Michael knows the voice, the intonation, the singsong.
He considers not acknowledging him but at the same time he is aware that his solitude is inevitably over, could as well get it over with. He turns around to a too wide grin and lanky posture. "What're you doing here?"
Lorenzo chuckles. "Well, I live here…"
"In the park?" Might as well be true. He's heard that Lorenzo used to be homeless. It was always implied that that changed, but never established in detail, so... Maybe he has a cardboard box to sleep in by one of the Po bridges. Not that Michael is so low as to suggest that.
"Near the park," the other corrects him right away. "Made it a point to buy the most expensive apartment available."
Yeah, that checks out.
Michael wants to groan when Lorenzo closes the distance and sits down in the grass next to him uninvited, but he also wants to play it cool, not to give the impression that he's bothered by it. That way he'll only encourage Lorenzo no doubt. There's something about the guy that doesn't sit right with Michael, something that's not as obvious as his gold teeth, skinny neck and weird posture. Michael can live with all that; he's a freak himself, he can handle freaks. Still, something about the Italian rubs him the wrong way that he can't pinpoint.
"So," Lorenzo starts again, after sitting down way too close to Michael. "Where's your little friend? Left puppy behind to hang out in the park at night like a bad boy?"
Michael huffs. "I don't need Lex to wipe my ass all day," he makes it clear, but Lorenzo huffs a laugh.
"Leeex, hm? That sounds cute, okay. You two get along well sure thing, figured that." He leans his cheek against his palm, elbow on his knee. "His smile is cute. I like cute smiles."
Michael frowns. "Leave him alone."
Lorenzo laughs and throws his hands up as if in defeat. "I'm not interested in meek puppy boys, okay? Don't be scared I'll steal your cookie. He's obsessed with you anyway, so I wouldn't waste my time and money on him." He leans back against the tree very close to Michael. "Hard to get in the way of you two anyway, I learned that today."
It's true. Bastard München won 2:3 this afternoon, thanks to Alexis' super clean passes. Well, thanks to Michael's super sharp goal shots, of course, but it's not like he can try and explain the difference to a tacky midfielder like Don Lorenzo anyway.
"I take that as a shitty compliment," Michael decides, making Lorenzo laugh.
"You know, I liked when you scored that third goal. In minute 87 no less. Your relieved smile was so pretty. I'm happy I got to see it up close." He leans forward again to look at Michael's face. "You should really smile more, it does wonders for you. It's a waste to frown all the time with such a beautiful face."
"Are you flirting with me?" Michael groans and Lorenzo grins.
"Don't mind if I do. I've been kicked in the ass for it countless times, okay, but it'd be an achievement to have my ass kicked by a football genius like you, clearly."
Michael can't help but chuckle. "Don't mind if I do," he echoes Lorenzo's words, but doesn't move to follow through with it. Sure, he's wanted time to himself after the match and all, hence he came to the park. But Lorenzo isn't such a bad guy. He's easy to be around. So when he asks, in his surprisingly accent free english: "What was that second shot though? I haven't seen such a funny little spin before. You learned that watching Attack No.1, superstar?", Michael lays out the thoughts and ideas behind the Magnus shot he's been working on with Alexis. He's surprised that Lorenzo noticed it, even though he can't replicate it reliably. And he likes when people understand his vision. Few can.
Lorenzo, apparently, can.
Lorenzo has played football since he was a kid, and it shows. What's more is that he didn't play in a club, but on the street, empty playgrounds at night, dirty backstreets, no rules, no strategy. Just plain, rude kicking, by instinct and full of heart.
They sit there for who-knows-how-long, the occasional passerby walking their dog while they sit and stare at the river's glittering surface reflecting the lamps on the other side, and talk. About anything and everything. Football mostly, but more and more about other things. There are bats fluttering by rapidly with no plan, no aim. The night feels endless here, the strain of the match, the stars and the calm conversation keeping them seated even though they sit way too close.
"I don't really remember my 'real' family," Lorenzo closes. "Snuffy is my family now. He's given me almost everything I could ask for. A home. Food. Safety. Money." He laughs at that. "A purpose."
Michael looks at him. "Almost everything?" He noticed that there's a hole in Lorenzo's story.
Lorenzo giggles, but there's sadness to it. "You wouldn't get it. You have your puppy boy. Leeex." He adds it slowly, as if tasting the name on his tongue.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Lorenzo turns his head and looks at him thoroughly. His eyes are so dark, almost black. Like polished obsidian in a pale face. His gold teeth shimmer subtly. He looks like an unconventional statue made of porcelain, gold and gemstone. Even his hair, dark and shiny, looks luxurious. Michael can't help but think he's fascinating, in his unique, macabre way.
"He loves you, right?" he says. "Lex." He doesn't give Michael the time to deny it. "Love is something you should be thankful for. It's something you can't buy. Trust me, okay? I've tried."
Michael doesn't know what to say. It's weird how he and Lorenzo are so alike. After all, Michael's only ever wanted to be loved. For Lorenzo to feel the same, that's a weird coincidence.
But maybe it's not a coincidence. Maybe the Parco Del Valentino is a place where at night people with similar dreams meet. Like he and Lorenzo did. Maybe there is something, luck, fate, destiny, something that made Lorenzo find him.
"I don't know much about love. I've never even kissed," Michael confesses. "Ever."
Lorenzo smiles. "Not even Lex?"
"No." For what reason ever he shares that with Lorenzo. "Lex is a coward." Maybe it's the atmosphere that coaxes these things out of him. The dark blue of the sky, the lights sparkling on the river. The gentle sound of the leaves above them. The stars.
"I have," Lorenzo shares with him. "But there was money involved, so it tasted bitter." He still smiles. "A kiss is supposed to taste sweet. Like caramel popcorn."
Michael chuckles. "That's oddly specific."
"You don't disagree though," Lorenzo grins. "It's really amazing," he adds then. "You have such a beautiful smile."
Michael's heart skips a beat. He's received compliments all his life. But Lorenzo has no reason to give him one. It feels special.
"So, you say," he murmurs, looking at the subtle shimmer of the gold teeth, "that a kiss tastes better with no money involved?"
Lorenzo gets it. "Yeah, no doubt," he says slowly, his voice low but playful. He tilts his head. "Caramel sweet, you know what I'm saying?"
Michael can't even answer. His lips touch Lorenzo's before he can even think about what he's doing. There's no way back now. He doesn't really know what's happening, but their lips press against each other, and it actually feels nice. Soft, warm. Slow. No hesitation, no rush. Just the night, and them.
Lorenzo knows how this works, obviously. He tilts his head more so their noses aren't in the way, leans in, just a little. His hand comes up to gently weave into Michael's hair, and his lips move slowly, implying that Michael's should play along.
He does. He's not usually someone to follow along instructions. But this feels natural. Lorenzo's instinct and his own are so similar. So when he parts his lips, Lorenzo, naturally, does it, too.
The kiss isn't sweet. Not like caramel popcorn at least. Michael wouldn't know, he doesn't like sweets anyway, might've never had caramel popcorn. But it's not bitter either. The kiss is warm and nice and heartbeat skipping. He reaches up and touches Lorenzo's shoulder. The bones protrude, clavicle, acromion. He hums when their tongues touch. It surprises him how good this feels. He keeps it going by playing along.
It's not a fight for dominance. No, they've asserted that during today's 96 minutes of a friendly. Michael is not someone to back down from a challenge, but he knows there's nothing to prove here, and nothing to win. If he can't easily prevail, he can let go of petty rivalries. For now at least. This is not the place for such a thing. He doesn't need to ruin this by making it a battle, and one he can't win to begin with.
So he lets Lorenzo kiss him. Sinks back against the tree, Lorenzo bending over him just a little. Just so that it's deep and nice and, yeah, sweet after all. Metaphorically. Lorenzo is good at this. Michael hasn't even noticed he's closed his eyes.
It's warm in his chest when the kiss is over. He's not embarrassed, not aroused, not shocked. Lorenzo pecks his lips and caresses his hair.
"You should kiss more often, it makes you look goddamn beautiful." He places a kiss on Michael's nose tip, which makes him smile. "We shouldn't tell Lex, he's going to murder me, I bet."
"One hundred percent likely," Michael chuckles.
Lorenzo sits back, smiling. He's actually kind of handsome despite his skinny physique and extraordinary features. Or because of them, Michael isn't sure. "Okay, but," he says, and Michael can tell Lorenzo's going to tease him, "you say Lex is a coward for nor kissing you. Then have you tried kissing him?"
Michael stares at him.
"So you're a coward, too?" Lorenzo's gold teeth glitter when he smirks. "Does he at least get to call you a cute little nickname? I dunno, Michi or Mika or…" He giggles. "Michele? Do I get to call you Michele now that we've kissed?"
Michael frowns. "You know what, I don't care," he decides. Not that he could keep Lorenzo from doing it anyway. The guy has a thick skull and the more Michael is bothered the more he encourages Lorenzo to do it.
The answer makes Lorenzo lean in to place a little kiss on Michael's lips before he gets up. "You know what? Now that I think about it, the frown makes you look cute, too. But still…" he stretches in that way that only Don Lorenzo and his weird joints can stretch. "I wouldn't mind losing against you Bastards again if I get to see both that funny curve shot and your beautiful smile. So, give your best next time again, Michele."
Michael watches him walk away towards the direction he came from. He never found out why Lorenzo was at the park to begin with. Maybe it was a coincidence.
"Next time I'll wipe the floor with your shitty ass right again," he calls, before adding: "You hear me, Lore?"
Lorenzo throws him a look over his bony shoulder along with a golden grin.
Maybe it was a coincidence that Lorenzo found him. Maybe it wasn't. Sometimes stars align.
.
"Michael," Alexis beams, obviously relieved, when he returns to their shared hotel room. "There you are! I was starting to get worried!" He has his hair pinned to the side, revealing his thick, expressive brows and gemstone pink eyes. He bites his pretty bottom lip, looking goddamn soft and sweet and kissable in his fluffy sweater and low-key skimpy jersey shorts. He's the cutest little puppy Michael has ever seen. The cutest little coward, too.
Ah, but Michael doesn't dare take what he wants either. One day for sure. He'll walk over and lean in and place his lips on Alexis', disheveling his hair that's pinned to the side and making his cheeks glow. And then he'll find out what nickname Alexis will call him.
But not today.