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World Cup 2006
Playing with Messi that game against Mexico might have been Scaloni’s favorite part of the whole world cup. Not only because that’s the only game where he was given a chance to fight for his country, but because this was the first time he had the honor of playing with the kid for Rosario. They had shared a bit over 30 minutes together on the field, but for Scaloni it had been the world.
When the whistle had sounded, the relief had almost brought Scaloni to his knees. One more step closer to achieving what every football player wanted. The glory of lifting the World Cup while wearing you country’s colors proudly, standing at the top of the football world. These were the thoughts running through Scaloni’s head when a small figure ran up beside him.
“Lio!”
Scaloni whipped around, recognizing the voice immediately. Like on instinct, the older man stretched out his arms just in time to catch Leo, the younger basically hurling himself into Scaloni’s arms.
“We did it!” Leo cheered, “we won!”
“We did,” Scaloni laughed, hugging the smaller man closer to himself.
“We’re going to win this whole tournament!”
Scaloni could only laugh in response, Leo’s enthusiasm spreading over to him. The duo split and went to celebrate with the rest of the team. Jumping, singing, waving to the fans and cheering together.
We’re going to win this whole tournament.
They didn’t. They lost the next match, and Scaloni had to watch from the bench as Germany ran away with their win. It was hard, being forced to just watch the inevitable happen. Watching the minutes slowly ticking by and time run out, their chances of winning seeming slimmer and slimmer.
On the bus back to their hotel from the stadium, Scaloni managed to steal the seat next to Leo. Normally, the younger man preferred to be left alone after a loss, this time no different, but Scaloni didn’t like the frown adorned the younger man’s face. He needed to do something about it, and this was the first thing to come to his mind. As he sat down beside Leo, Scaloni didn’t give him a moment to protest before dragging the younger brunet into a half hug. Sitting like that, Leo was leaning his head on Scaloni’s shoulder, the older man’s arm wrapped around his shoulder.
Silence stretched for a while. The whole bus was silent, the only noise being the motor purring, the wheels rolling on the road and the quiet music from the radio. Nobody was in the mood to talk. The loss weighing heavy on the entire team.
“We were supposed to win,” Leo muttered.
“I know,” Scaloni responded, both men keeping their gaze forwards.
“I hate loosing”.
“I know”.
“Is that all you have to say?” Leo asked, pushing himself up and looking over at Scaloni, who took another few moments to answer.
“One day you will lift that trophy,” he eventually said, a soft smile on his lips, “it’s your destiny”.
Leo’s eyes widened in surprise. Large, brown eyes reflecting the light from the streetlamps, like starts sparkling in the sky. At that moment Scaloni realized something; no matter what happened, he would make sure that Leo would lift the World Cup.
Giggling broke Scaloni’s train of thoughts. Blinking slowly, he noticed a small smile starting to appear on Leo’s face. Quiet giggles spilled from his lips, that evolved to laughter and eventually Leo was leaning on him, unable to stop laughing. The laughter was infections, and soon they were both loudly laughing. The rest of the team was looking back at them with questioning looks. Scaloni didn’t care. Because at that point he realized another thing:
He might be falling for one Lionel Messi.
World Cup 2014
Scaloni had given it a day. Or actually he had given it 13 hours from when the final whistle had been blown until he was standing in front of the door. It had taken some asking around, bribing and, even though he had not been proud of it, a bit of begging. Eventually Scaloni had been pointed in the right direction, and so here he was. Standing in front of room 319. The room belonging to one Lionel Messi.
Scaloni had no idea what he was doing here. To be fair, he hadn’t even thought he would get this far. Now that he was standing here, all the doubts started to creep inn. Would Leo even want to see him? He had just lost the World Cup finale, a brutal game going into overtime. A brutal loss. Scaloni had watched it from the comforts of his own home. He wanted to be there, on the pitch, fighting for his country. However, when the Germans put the ball into the net, Scaloni was selfishly glad he wasn’t there.
But then he saw him. Leo walking the steps up to the stage, passing the trophy with a broken look in his eyes. Scaloni had seen it all, the pain, the suffering, the unshed tears, the dejected posture plastered all over his TV. It had been too much for Scaloni, and the man had booked the earliest flight to Brazil. So, here he was. 13 hours later. No sleep, no plan. Just the need to comfort the younger man. Much like he did after the 2006 World Cup exit, only this time the pain Leo was in must be tenfold.
That need was the one thing giving him the courage to finally knock on the door. Minutes passed, and Scaloni was afraid he must have been given the wrong information, or maybe Leo was still asleep, or maybe he had already left, or maybe –.
The door opened.
“I’m not really in the –,” Leo muttered as he opened the door, before he finally looked up, eyes widening in shock, “Lio?”
“Hi”.
Scaloni felt like an idiot. ‘Hi’, was that all he had to say? Wow, flying all the way to Brazil, and at the mere sight of Leo he loses all ability to form a coherent thought. Luckily, it seemed Leo was just as baffled, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“I … um … I saw the game,” Scaloni stuttered.
“Oh.”
Wrong thing to say, stupid, Scaloni thought to himself. The sad look returned to Leo’s brown eyes, looking much like a kicked puppy. Scaloni was kicking himself mentally for making Leo sad again, the opposite of what he had come here to do. However, he could also no deny that the younger man looked extremely pretty like that, with watery eyes looking to the floor.
“If you’re here to talk about the game I would rather you leave,” Leo gritted, starting to close the door.
“Wait!” Scaloni exclaimed, grabbing the door and practically shoving himself and Leo inside the room and letting the door fall shut behind them, “that’s not why I’m here!”
“Then why?”
“I,” Scaloni started, but nothing came out of his mouth, “I … I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Leo said slowly, “you flew here, from Argentina, and you don’t know why? Have you even slept?”
“No”.
Leo blinked slowly up at Scaloni, a confused look in his eyes. That look started transforming, first into surprise, then into glee. His soft looking lips turning up into a small smile, that grew and grew. Before long, giggles started to roll from Leo’s mouth, the younger man unable to stop them. Scaloni was staring down at the giggling brunet in front of him, the scene reminding him of the two of them sitting at the back of the bus eight years ago.
What more, it reminded him of that feeling he got back then. The warmth spreading in his stomach, his heart speeding up and his own smile growing. The sun was barley shining through the drawn curtains, but in the soft light Leo looked more ethereal than any god or saint had ever looked. The smile on his face and eyes crinkled with laughter, Scaloni moved before he could rethink what he was doing. He reached forwards, cupping Leo’s face with both hands.
And then he kissed him.
It lasted only a moment, but for Scaloni it was everything. Leo was soft beneath his hands, and he tasted absolutely divine. Scaloni could have stayed here and kissed the younger brunet forever, but reality suddenly hit and the older realized what he was doing. Jumping back a couple of steps like he had been burned, apologies spilling from his lips like a waterfall.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, you just looked so good, not that you don’t usually look good, but just something about your eyes when they’re sad, not that I want you to be sad, but your laughter, and I just moved without thinking, and now you’re not saying anything, and I just did that without asking and –“.
“If you don’t shut up and kiss me again, I will kick you out of here,” Leo said, cutting of Scaloni’s rambling,
“I … what?”
“Have you grown deaf with your age?” Leo teased.
“Are you sure?”
“Lio, god help me, if you’re not over here kissing me within three seconds I will – “.
Moving forwards once more, Scaloni cut off Leo with another kiss. This time the younger man returned it with just as much passion. Time melted into nothingness, as the two of them sunk into bed, wrapped around each other. Just holding one another close. After a while, when Leo was half asleep on Scaloni’s chest, the older man’s hand running thought soft brown hair, Scaloni spoke once more.
“One day, I promise,” he whispered, Leo only responding by nuzzling closer, “I will give you that trophy, and anything else you might desire”.
World Cup 2022
Time had seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. The sound of the ball hitting the back of the net had echoed in his mind for what felt like hours. Everything happening between then and now had been a blur. At one point people hugged him, congratulating him on his amazing performance. Scaloni thinks he had sat down at some point, but that might have also been his imagination. All he knew was one thing. During the whole ordeal, all the celebrations, screaming, hugging, jumping, shouting, smiling, laughing. Through it all, there had only been one thought in Scaloni’s head.
Leo. Leo Leo Leo. LeoLeoLeoLeo.
Out there on the field, and now being paraded around on someone’s shoulders, Leo had been the only thing Scaloni could properly make out. The lighting from the stadium seeming to dim from the pure shine of the younger man’s smile. Eyes glittering, not with tears, but with joy and happiness. Cheeks round and red with laughter. Skin glittering from the champaign he had been showered in, mixing with sweat and tears. He looked absolutely godly, Scaloni thought.
The noise continued around him, but standing out from the crowd there was one voice the coach would recognize anywhere.
“Lio!”
The sound of his name on Leo’s lips was like a prayer for a poor sinners heart. Scaloni was unable to answer with anything other than a smile, but Leo had developed an amazing ability to read and understand his silence. Suddenly, Scaloni’s feet were off the ground, Leo’s arms around him. The motion made him laugh, freeing his voice finally.
“You did it,” he said as Leo put him down, brining the smaller man into his arms for a tight hug.
“No stupid,” Leo said, leaning away from the hug but keeping his arms around Scaloni’s waist, “we did it”.
There it was again, that beautiful smile. The one where Leo’s eyes crinkled, showing his crow’s feet clearly, lips parted to show white teeth and cheeks dusted pink. This right here was Scaloni’s favorite sight, above anything else, above the World Cup trophy. Leo, his Leo, in his arms, smiling up at him. The urge to kiss the younger brunet overcame him like a tsunami, one big wave washing away anything and everything around them.
Leo tasted like champaign.
The kiss was brief, but still, it would definitely be plaster on every big news sight by the end of the hour. Scaloni didn’t care, all he wanted was right there in front of him. Leo seemed just at content, returning the short kiss. As they split, Scaloni only had one thing to say.
“I told you so”.
“Hm?”
“I told you that this would happen”, he said, leaning closer so the next words were for Leo’s ears only, “it was your destiny”.
“You big goof,” Leo laughed, bringing Scaloni down for another kiss.
Around them the celebrations continued, colorful fireworks lighting the sky, fans and players alike cheering and laughing. But, right there in the middle of it all, they stopped being Lionel Messi and Lionel Scaloni, they weren’t player and coach anymore.
They were simply Lio and Leo.