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“They’re shipping us, you know?” Jude’s voice cut through their silence.
It was a quiet afternoon. It’d been a while since they shared something like this, amid tournaments, training, and the overall busy schedule of the two players. They were at the hotel, thankfully shared by England and Norway. They had five days until they played against each other.
Erling’s eyes raised from his phone, the generic song from tiktok still playing.
“Are they?”
The other man exhaled through his nose, a humored sound.
“Bro. Search it up.”
Haaland raised an eyebrow, still watching Jude for a moment more before giving in to the curiosity and scrolling to the side. His fingers flew across the screen, quickly writing “haaland x bellingham” on the explore tab.
Thousands of videos showed up. Or at least that was what the app told him. He clicked one — the cover was a well-known clip from when he’d hugged Jude on the ground, after the UEFA Champions League match in 2022.
Legendary lovers. That was the song in the background. It featured many clips between both men: the brief kiss on the cheek Jude gave him during that one past-match interview, the many hugs shared between them in matches, and that one time Jude rested his forehead against Erling’s chest.
Haaland laughed; brief, exasperatedly.
“Man.”
He scrolled down, more videos showing up. There were edits, analysis, fans freaking out over one hug. The internet was crazy, really.
Jude watched as his friend went through it, an amused smile curling at the corners of his lips. He’d seen them before, but it seemed like their ship began trending again since they’d play against each other in this World Cup.
Erling shook his head, eyes still on his phone.
“They’re insane.”
Bellingham shrugged briefly.
“Are they, though?”
The blonde man looked up at his friend, sitting on the couch across from him. Jude held it, until Haaland previsibly shifted positions, sitting more comfortably as an excuse to look away.
There it was. That familiar, uncomfortable tug at his chest. Erling could never escape it, no matter how much he tried. Jude knew about it — he’d always noticed too much about the man.
He pretended not to notice the resigned edge Jude’s gaze held, crossing one leg over the other and swiping away the search.
“Hah. Yeah.”
The silence returned, but it was different: less casual, more charged with something Bellingham had long named, but Haaland was too afraid to. Neither could blame the other, so they just let it stretch in that casual avoidance they knew so well.
Until Jude just didn’t.
“Hey.”
His tone was soft. Too soft for a mindless commentary or unimportant words.
“Mhm?” The other man hummed, ignoring how that knot in his chest tightened.
Jude didn’t speak immediately. His mind worked, searching for the right words. He didn’t want to ruin this, but he couldn’t also just not say anything. They’d been silent for too long. He’d been silent for too long.
Instead of words, a short laugh escaped his lips. He didn’t plan the way it sounded bitter.
“You know it’s legal, right?”
Erling’s jaw worked silently. He wasn’t really seeing what was shown on his phone; his attention was on the way that word was said — legal. Like law had been what made him ignore how the other man looked at him. Like it hadn’t been just the sheer impossibility of being together when they both had separate careers, several travels, and lives that’d never allow this.
So, of course, he deflected.
“What? Can we push adversaries freely now?”
He couldn’t put all the humor he wanted in that phrase.
“Erling.”
“I’m just kidding.”
Yeah. Jude knew that.
“Fine.”
A short, one-syllable answer that revealed more than he could ever convey in words.
It wasn’t like this would ever result in something anyway. Erling was married. Jude was dating Ashlyn — and he loved her, really. He only wished he didn’t have as much unsolved to occupy his mind every time his lips met hers.