Work Text:
Silence in the locker room had never felt so sharp. ‘Shadows’ players left fast: whatever today’s result was, they were still superior among their qualification group, with a guaranteed pass to the further matches. Sinedd knew he was supposed to be happy: his career had started brightly, outshining stars and overshadowing the shadows — even his teammates who were all much older and experienced. Even if taking this defeat into account, it was actually a tie — the next match would show who’s better and why. Sinedd had enough time to think and practice; the strongest team was on his side, the strongest Flux was streaming through his veins…
Black tendrils were leaking through the skin even now, dancing on the white fangs bonded into a necklace — and revealing Sinedd’s state actually being far from calm and confident.
He wondered how soon shorty would notice his charm missing; wondered even more when he had lost his mind enough to come to old baits. Sinedd still didn’t decide what to say and if he wanted to talk at all. Striker wasn’t satisfied with a victory before — and was obviously annoyed with the recent loss. It was like beating a cliff with bare hands, every time expecting a different conclusion and getting upset because every result becomes equally wrong.
If only he didn’t foul at Micro-Ice and give a free-kick for the tie. If only he reacted faster and prevented that crazy attempt on last seconds, ‘Snow Kids’ would be no more in competition — and he wouldn’t have to torture himself with endless questions and memories, to spend his completely free evening thinking about a person who spoiled things again and left him with gaping hole in the chest.
With Micro-Ice, everything was always going wrong, always. Nothing was going as planned. Around him, life resembled a messy puzzle made of absolutely unfitting pieces, unexpected accidents and random meetings. Sinedd could never imagine his life reaching the current point without this insane guy being always around, whatever as a trigger or an obstacle. As if Micro-Ice made Sinedd follow him with an invisible gesture, promising victory, heights, something more than a monotonous existence — and stole a part on every stage. Ruined everything he planned. As it had always been.
He once ruined Sinedd’s calmness and quiet life in darkness, appearing like a shiny loud sparkle and immediately taking place in his heart. Shorter than his semi-ages, half-orphan and left with no control as his mother was always at work; constantly finding trouble and adventure, smiling and making others smile and laugh in his presence. Micro-Ice could leave nobody indifferent, whatever in a positive or negative way. Sinedd lost count for how many times his attention and pure interest were rejected, how many times he was ignored, pressured and taken lightly. In a room full of people and laughing, Mice might seem like a fly which accidentally entered and stayed with a little background noise. He never gave up on further attempts, though, hope and spirit literally radiating from those precious icy eyes. They fit Micro-Ice’s name so much.
He ruined Sinedd’s confidence that he needed nobody except himself; watching Micro-Ice making friends, real friends who would make up for his weaknesses with numbers and skills and protect whatever happens, Sinedd couldn’t avoid the weird feeling of absence. His company was narrowed around playing card games, side jobs and gossip; even while practicing football skills, he was often targeting the empty goals — while Micro-Ice could collect more people to watch an improvised match with him, D’Jok and twins than Bellow and ‘Red Tigers’ altogether.
He ruined a repetitive routine by meeting Aarch and later by finding his headquarters. Only this guy could literally fall from the roof — and meet the past football star searching for new players, and then run into him again exactly when Aarch struggled with announcing the try-out. Micro-Ice literally gave Sinedd a chance nobody could even dream about — and was going just to quit without trying, believing in that common lie about “dead football on the Akillian”. Sinedd couldn’t make himself say a word to stop that insanely foolish decision. It became needless soon, though: Micro-Ice was defeated from the first sight, so much adoration in silver eyes that for a second Sinedd wondered if shorty was alright. That crush on Mei was strong enough to corrupt his whole nature, attention and made him stay to try luck once again. Annoyance towards his childhood rival was no more primary, and that was pissing Sinedd off.
Micro-Ice ruined everything — and took his place as the striker, joining the ‘Snow Kids’ main cast so naturally as if that place was always supposed to belong to him. As if the blank spot on the field was finally fixed. It perhaps wouldn’t hurt so much if Sinedd got replaced by D’Jok who was his rival and the equal one, Thran who wasn’t raising much hatred and emotions in general, or even Mei — especially after noticing her ambitions for the striker position. Everyone would be fine as a replacement, except Micro-Ice. Sinedd wished to burn the field to hell after seeing two best friends smiling, anticipating their first play side-by-side, at the same position. He hated the happiness on the faces of ‘Snow Kids’, how they were jumping around Tia after she scored twice. He detested Micro-Ice for how easily he adapted to the team play, followed Rocket’s advice and assisted Tia instead of doing his own game. Sinedd simply couldn’t have such chemistry with anyone.
Micro-Ice ruined everything: the place of the second striker became his permanently, and this fool wasn’t even searching for more. Sinedd trusted his new coach, Artegor Nexus, and kept surpassing himself until getting the title of the main striker. He didn’t care about the captain's title but he had to be that shadow which darkens everything and everyone else. The strongest one. The key player. The star. And Micro-Ice seemed not to care at all, just enjoying his game. He had always loved football and feelings around it, it was pure hopeless love on the planet without the Flux — and when it got an unexpected chance to live and develop, Micro-Ice wasn’t wasting any more time. He awoke the Breath during the game, blue sparkles dancing around his body like flames and responding to his call as if Micro-Ice had known that power for years. The light frozen aura looked so natural to him — unlike the Smog which almost made Sinedd cough out his lungs until he got used to its strange power.
Micro-Ice ruined everything when he didn’t come to their first match against each other. Sinedd felt victorious: he could beat D’Jok and smash his past teammates once and for all, showing his superiority. He did so, but the revenge wasn’t as tasty as he expected. ‘Snow Kids’ were upset but not despaired, and D’Jok’s speech Sinedd saw later on the holo-TV seemed like a clear message. Micro-Ice returned for the next game as if responding to that hidden call, and that was making Sinedd mad: shorty didn’t return for revenge, for vengeance of some sort — he returned to his friends and, most of all, to D’Jok. ‘Snow Kids’ were completed again; Sinedd’s leaving was no more important, it didn’t leave any invisible wound or scar, it wasn’t something anyone worried about — while Micro-Ice’s absence was visible, sensible and it had really hurt. There was no common place for the two of them. They could only meet on the football field and fight each other.
Micro-Ice ruined everything — and stole their last victory when it was almost taken. Nobody expected that breakthrough in the last twenty seconds; none of the ‘Snow Kids’ moved to help, just stayed, and none of the ‘Shadows’ could stop the single enemy. Sinedd failed as well, the last goal was done just behind his spine. It wasn’t as amazing as the previous team-up, Micro-Ice didn’t hit strongly or use any more tricks — but targeted the ball exactly to the shocked goalkeeper who caught it and unconsciously made those few necessary steps back. Enough to cross the boundary.
‘Snow Kids’ won — but for Sinedd, it wasn’t a personal loss. He was the same both in victory and defeat, the ‘Shadows’ were the same — but Micro-Ice’s absence and presence cost exactly one goal for his team.
A loss or a victory.
It became quiet in the ‘Snow Kids’ locker room a while ago; consumed with his thoughts, Sinedd almost missed a coming sound of the footsteps. The next door opened and they quieted down, replaced with metal clang and other uncertain noise before an unhappy voice cut them. Sinedd couldn’t mistake that voice with any other. A few Smog tendrils sparkled over a necklace in his hands: he still didn’t decide anything, he had no plan. And no more time as the footsteps approached.
— Missed something? — Sinedd asked as soon as white cloth appeared in his eyesight.
— Same trick a billion times. Give it back.
— Or what? Can do anything without friends?
Micro-Ice gasped, relying on the doorway with arms crossed. This line was repetitive; Sinedd had always enjoyed stealing something from him — whatever tickets, position of the striker or something else. It felt like he wanted to tear off everything bit by bit, as if getting revenge for something, and Micro-Ice wondered what he did to deserve such attention. Sinedd never attacked D’Jok this way, though their rivalry was obvious; strikers could exchange some teasing comments, test each other on the football pitch and that was all. He rarely interacted with twins, could drop some biting words but discussions were ending too quickly; he barely dealt with Rocket and seemed to be absolutely indifferent to Mei — if not counting the recent game, and striker wondered what had happened between them.
But those were single accidents. Between the two of them, that was a continuous reality.
Micro-Ice knew Sinedd was repeating fouls at him because each fall was followed with pain, falling and theft; those were easy opportunities to watch upside down, pressure and leave behind. They couldn’t basically stand each other, they had nothing to talk about except exchanging endless jokes, mocking each other and sharing bitter comments with reason or without. Unlike D’Jok and twins, Sinedd wasn’t comfortable to stay with; Micro-Ice wouldn’t share a single secret with him or ask any advice. They had nothing in common — but were pure opposites. A solid boundary separated them with no way to be crossed from any side.
— You won’t last long without this damn ‘friendship’. So useless by yourself-
— Too many words, Sinedd. Give my necklace back and I’m leaving.
Discussion was pointless, but they couldn’t fight: it could easily end with disqualification of both teams if the accident leaked. Actually, their past arguments had never ended in a fight — and when Micro-Ice knocked him down to the floor before the match, it was for the first time words gave up to physical power. That blow-up was sudden, absolutely unusual for a shorty; even D’Jok had to make an effort to keep him at a distance though he was much stronger.
Now, Micro-Ice seemed to cool down, his eyes containing no trace of that wild anger but calm hostility — and wish to end the discussion faster. He entered the locker room. Sinedd was watching him silently, a weird nervousness upscaling in his chest with every step like a spring under compression. It was for the first time he felt like this: it was too silent, only footsteps and his own heartbeat making a sound; too complicated as recent waspish words left Micro-Ice indifferent but also made Sinedd feeling almost defenseless. This guy had always had some weird power over him — while Sinedd had no true influence in response.
He hated how Micro-Ice could simply live and enjoy a chain of events, how life was gathering around him, how shorty was finding something positive even while dealing with rare bastards like Bellow or falling in love with a person who didn’t care; how he could be sarcastic about football on the Akillian — and literally live with it; how he was never betraying himself. Sinedd failed to change him, but somehow Micro-Ice succeeded with the opposite — though doubtful if he did that specifically.
And here they were, both in the Galactik Cup finals. Insane to imagine just a few months ago.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"Let the pros handle this".*
As if he could handle anything.
Micro-Ice stopped in front of Sinedd and extended a hand for a necklace:
— So?
Especially his close presence.
Sinedd grabbed and pushed Micro-Ice against the lockers, squeezing his neck, silver eyes rounding from surprise and strangling touch. He felt warmth from other hands as the striker tried to distance, listened to a creaky voice cursing him but it was almost quiet as if coming through water; literally everything became quiet like void, only heart beating in temples. Smog which used to recall instantly as a wild flame suddenly turned into a calm flow. Sinedd’s arms tensed to keep Micro-Ice in place, and that feeling was bringing a weird relief.
This time, he wouldn’t run away, wouldn’t fool him again.
Micro-Ice kicked Sinedd into a knee and pushed him away but got pressed back to the lockers, with more pressure than before and hands clenched behind. Sinedd’s free hand moved down his neck, touching with fingertips only and almost tickling. He didn’t use too much power to avoid leaving bruises but the skin still turned a bit red. An unusual sensation took over him: the height difference between him and Micro-Ice was insane and had been so since Sinedd could remember, so the striker used to look upside down at him. But not like that. Micro-Ice was too close, his eyes still wide open as if he forgot to blink at all, his chest moving roughly under each breath. The striker looked down when Sinedd’s touch went lower along his neck, drawing a line above collarbones — a bit embarrassing since he could literally feel Sinedd’s warm breath on his face.
His cheeks lightly flushed, unwittingly, and that turned the situation more complicated.
— You’re insane.
— You saying? — Micro-Ice responded the same quietly, a short laugh turning his lips into a smile. He definitely wasn’t in a position to tease Sinedd and test his nerves, but an annoyed sparkle in dark eyes was so pleasing that Micro-Ice didn’t regret anything.
Well, perhaps they had something in common.
— I fucking hate you.
Sinedd couldn’t decide if he wanted to talk or to beat Micro-Ice, but once their lips touched it didn’t feel like a wrong decision at all. His last words, almost a whisper, crossed out all other thoughts, leaving his mind and chest pleasingly empty — which was unusual as the striker used to say that countless times. They both believed it to be the solid and mutual truth; everyone knew that as well — and here, he wasn’t pushed away. Sinedd felt he stopped thinking at all but no resistance or rough move in response were too obvious to stay unnoticed. And then a warm breath licked his lips, a single touch turning into a slow kiss.
Micro-Ice was responding, to him. His kisses were mostly innocent, quite awkward touches as he’d never kissed anyone before, but they were more than enough to turn Sinedd’s head. Those tries were inexperienced but so appealing that the ‘Shadows’ striker didn’t even want to mock Micro-Ice for them. Maybe for the first time ever.
That was too insane even for them.
— Get lost, — Sinedd withdrew, trying to collect his thoughts back together and watching shorty’s flushed face in front, silver eyes half-closed and dreamy. Striker didn’t know what he’d expected from this conversation but definitely not how it turned.
And definitely not that Micro-Ice would free himself and catch him back for the next kiss. Hugging Sinedd over shoulders, Micro-Ice made him bend down and pressed closer, appealing to warm hands covering his neck and stroking flushed cheeks and earlobes. New sensations consumed him completely; he both liked and hated a feeling growing up in his chest but it was spreading like poison, weakening any wish to distance. Sinedd wasn’t hurrying up, he was careful and caring like never before, and he was raising strong unknown heat which was only upscaling from their closeness.
Would it feel the same with the person he’d be in love with? Would that be similar if Mei gave him a chance? Memories weren’t a bleeding wound anymore, just an occasionally aching scar, but Micro-Ice wondered about at least something to compare. He needed an explanation why his mind was turned over, why his body was responding to this affection and demanding more. There was no way he might like a person like Sinedd, but Micro-Ice liked when warm tongue slipped into his mouth and their kisses became deeper and more passionate; he liked when they moved down his neck, leaving invisible burns and a bit of time to catch the breath; he was admiring light pain in his nape and shoulders as Sinedd was pressing him to the lockers kind of too hard, black strands tickling his chin and cheeks. Sweet heat overwhelmed Micro-Ice when Sinedd got back to his lips again, holding his waist and pressing closely, so they both could feel each other’s hardness.
He needed more of this, more of everything — and seeing that Sinedd was in exactly the same state was driving that need to craziness.
— Micro-Ice, it’s okay? — they split up immediately as if an open flame sparkled between them. D’Jok’s voice was the sudden but necessary ice to cool down this madness, and Micro-Ice remembered they were actually supposed to depart soon. — Did you find–
— Y-Yeah, a few sec!!
He looked back at Sinedd — and almost missed an opportunity to catch his necklace. The ‘Shadows’ striker looked annoyed as usual and silently gestured towards the exit, but his eyes were still holding his recent passion. It was unusual to see him like that. Micro-Ice leaned back on the lockers, calming down his breath and insane heartbeat. It suddenly became too cold without Sinedd’s arms around — the feeling he could never expect — and the perspective of being pressed back to the lockers, with no questions and way out, felt quite intriguing. Micro-Ice heavily gulped, throwing those thoughts out. He wore his necklace back, turning to the exit, and Sinedd sighed with a bit of relief.
Leaving now was the only right option, for them both.
In a blink, Micro-Ice approached to leave a fast kiss on Sinedd’s lips and ran away — to ruin everything again, leave numerous unanswered questions and weird feelings. This guy had no reason to give any hope, or chance, will to repeat or whatever was meant by that kiss — Sinedd wished not to think about that but a hot wave already rushed through the body. He could never expect Micro-Ice responding to this weirdness and coming for more.
And here they were.
Sinedd slumped on the bench, calming down his breath. This evening was going to be longer than he expected.