Chapter Text
It wasn't what anyone had expected. Somehow, through a combination of determination, pure luck, and whatever manifestation rituals TikTok had cooked up—Mexico had actually put up a fight.And then Jude Bellingham needed less than five minutes to make history.
Two goals.
Just like that, England were through. The dressing room erupted into complete chaos. Players were yelling over one another, music blasted from someone's speaker, and at least three different people were already planning the celebration back at the hotel.
Jude slipped away before anyone could drag him into it. Phone in hand, he ducked into the bathroom, finally enjoying a few seconds of silence.He wanted to check social media. Not because he was full of himself.
Okay... maybe a little. But mostly because the internet worked faster than any sports journalist on Earth. The memes had to be incredible by now.
He opened X with a grin. England was celebrating. Football accounts were celebrating.
Why were Ecuadorians editing his face onto Catholic saints?
Jude blinked.
"...What?"
Before he could investigate, his phone buzzed.
Vicky 🎀
Congratulations!! Now go destroy everyone and bring that trophy home!!
Jude frowned so hard his eye twitched.
"...Seriously?" He typed back almost immediately.
-Are you messing with me?
-Of course not! Isn't that what everyone wants? By the way, have you seen Vinicius' latest video? I've been telling him we should make it come true, but he keeps leaving me on read (╥﹏╥) Do you think he's mad at me?
Jude stared at the screen for several long seconds. He already knew the answer. But against his better judgment...
-...Just out of curiosity. Do you happen to remember who knocked Brazil out?
- Norway! Why? ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ Also look!! I downloaded an app with cute emojis!!
Jude pinched the bridge of his nose.
-Erling. I don't think Vinicius likes you very much right now. YOU. Specifically YOU. Knocked Brazil out of the World Cup.
- (˶˃⤙˂˶) But... that was on the pitch! The match is over!
Right. That was just Erling. The hopelessly stupid, ridiculously kind Viking had always been like that. He genuinely forgot that football wasn't just a game. It was a sport. A brutally competitive one, at that. Millions of people were glued to their TVs right now, fully prepared to declare war on anyone remotely responsible for their country's elimination.
And somehow...Erling still thought everyone could just be friends afterward.
Jude caught himself smiling at the screen.
Honestly, who wouldn't? His phone had been flooded with edits of Brauty over the past few days. Dramatic slow-motion clips, emotional music, thousands upon thousands of comments from brand-new fans declaring him the love of their lives. It was... fascinating. Jude had even saved a few of the funnier ones. Strictly for blackmail purposes. Obviously.
He was just about to fall even deeper down that rabbit hole when his phone buzzed again. Incoming video call.
Brauty 🐼
The contact picture was, for some unfathomable reason, Erling's face badly edited onto Majin Buu from Dragon Ball. Jude didn't remember making it. Which somehow made it even worse.
He accepted the call. A second later, a giant Viking wearing a panda face mask appeared on the screen. The mask was several sizes too small.
"...Of course it is," Jude muttered. "VICKY!!" Erling practically sang his name, somewhere between speaking and rapping. "Those goals were incredible! We have to celebrate!"
Jude laughed. Just once. A tiny laugh that escaped before he could stop it. His expression immediately reset to its usual seriousness.
"Celebrate what?" He said "This is only the beginning. We need to train even harder now."
Erling narrowed his eyes. "Liar." He pointed dramatically at the camera. "You lot are getting absolutely obliterated tonight." He paused. "...Sorry for swearing."
Jude blinked. "...You didn't swear."
"Close enough." He nodded solemnly. "Anyway, you're probably winning the World Cup, so one night of fun is allowed."
Jude sighed. "Do you even know who we're playing next?"
Silence.
Erling's face displayed the most genuine expression of confusion Jude had ever witnessed.
Jude could practically feel a muscle twitch beneath his eye.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
"Do you know who you're playing next?"
"No idea." Erling shrugged. "I'll find out tomorrow at training. I think our opponents were playing today." Another shrug. "We'll probably lose anyway. I still can't believe we beat Brazil."
Jude stared. "...We won."
Erling's face lit up instantly. "I KNOW!!" "Isn't that amazing? That's why I'm saying we should celebrate!"
Jude closed his eyes.
Counted to three.
It didn't help.
"You absolute prehistoric idiot." He pointed accusingly at the screen. "I'm your next opponent."
Sometimes Erling genuinely tested the limits of his patience. He lived on an entirely different planet. And somehow... That was also part of what made him impossible to dislike.
Silence.
“Then..” Erling exploded into laughter. The long-haired lunatic laughed so hard he nearly disappeared from the camera frame. He wheezed. At one point Jude was fairly certain he was crying. "No way!" he managed between breaths. "You're serious?"
"Unfortunately."
"..." Another fit of laughter. "So..." Erling grinned. "You're gonna let me win?"
"Brauty."
"Okay, okay." He raised both hands in surrender. "Don't scold me." A beat "I hope you win." Another beat. "...But I'd prefer it if I did."
Jude sighed. "...Has anyone ever told you you're weird?"
"Every single day." Erling answered so casually it almost sounded rehearsed. "Usually the moment I open social media. Or whenever someone starts a conversation with me."
He didn't sound offended.
Not even a little. Jude used to think exactly the same. Then he'd actually gotten to know him.
Which, in hindsight... Had only confirmed everyone else's suspicions.
No. Scratch that. Erling was somehow even stranger than people imagined. And yet...
That was exactly what made him so ridiculously endearing. There was a saying, wasn't there?
He's so weird it's actually cute. Realizing that had been... strange.
At first Jude had mistaken it for admiration. After all, Erling was unbelievable. Fast. Terrifyingly talented. The kind of player who made impossible things look routine.
But somewhere along the way... Jude had started smiling at the ridiculous way he looked at the world.
And then... There had been that stupid bet.
Flashback
"Do I seriously have to do this?" Jude looked about as thrilled as someone heading to their own execution.
"Of course." Erling sounded perfectly reasonable. "You said if I could eat that entire burger in one bite, you'd do whatever I asked."
"It was a joke!" Jude threw both hands into the air. "I didn't think you'd actually do it! Honestly, I didn't even think that was physically possible."
"Well..." Erling shrugged. "Turns out it was." A grin spread across his face. "Now pay up....You people really take promises seriously."
Jude groaned. "Fine...What do you want, Haaland?"
Erling frowned immediately. "First. He raised one finger. We're friends now. Stop calling me by my last name. It sounds way too formal." He paused, clearly organizing his thoughts. "Actually...I don't want us to just be friends." Jude's heart skipped. The feeling was strange.
Uncomfortable.
Entirely unfamiliar.
Before he had time to examine it."Let's be BEST friends!" Erling beamed. "I like you. You're kind of weird sometimes... But I like you anyway."
Jude blinked. "...I'm the weird one?"
"A little." Erling nodded matter-of-factly But you're still great."
"Anyway." He waved dismissively. "Don't change the subject. "Your middle name is Victor, right?" I'm calling you Vicky."
"Absolutely not." Jude answered so quickly it almost overlapped with the question. "Are you insane? No.End of discussion."
Erling pouted. "Englishman's honor."
Jude froze. He hated that phrase. It was ridiculous. Childish. Completely unfair. Somehow... It worked every single time.
"...Only when we're alone." Jude sighed. "And in return...I'll call you Brauty."He was certain, absolutely certain, that the ridiculous nickname would make Erling reconsider.
Instead... Erling's entire face lit up. "I LOVE IT!"
Jude regretted his life choices immediately. "...Great. Let's go."
"One more thing." Jude stopped walking.
"...What now?" Erling smiled."I want a kiss."
Silence.
"...What?"Oddly enough... Jude wasn't disgusted. He wasn't offended. He wasn't even angry.
Just... Confused.
Which was concerning. Because, and he would sooner die than admit this to another living soul, somewhere... buried beneath several layers of denial...
he'd wondered the exact same thing.
What would it actually feel like to kiss this brainless Viking? Heat rushed to both their faces. Neither of them acknowledged it.
The room, they silently agreed, had suddenly become unreasonably warm.
"No!" Erling panicked immediately. He even ran a hand through his hair. "Not like that. Listen.Emre keeps telling people you were impossible to work with at your old club. hat you're arrogant. That you don't get along with anyone."
Jude's expression hardened. None of that was new. Ever since leaving Madrid, people had painted him as selfish. A diva. Someone desperate for attention. Some of his own teammates had happily repeated the story. Including the captain. The worst part? It hardly mattered how hard he worked.
Once people decided who you were... They rarely changed their minds. It had been exhausting. Infuriating. But Jude had always believed actions spoke louder than rumors.
"...And?"
"People need to see you having fun." Erling's voice had lost every trace of joking. "They need to see you're not alone."
Jude frowned. Over time he'd made friends. Somehow. Mostly because one very large Norwegian had shown up one day with two other players asking where everyone was eating...and then proceeded to attach himself to Jude like an overly affectionate duckling. It hadn't stopped the whispers.
"...I'm still not following. Brauty."
Erling corrected automatically "Don't call me Haaland."
Jude rolled his eyes. "Fine."
"Brauty. Explain." Erling leaned closer to the camera. "The reporters don't know you. The fans don't know you." To them you're whatever headline they read last." So... We change the headline."
Jude stared. "...How exactly?"
Erling grinned. "Easy. Next time we win...I'll be doing interviews. You walk over... Give your incredibly handsome best friend a kiss..."
"Boom." He clapped dramatically."Everyone loses their minds. Instant friendship. Instant good PR. People love stuff like that."
Jude looked genuinely horrified. "...That is the stupidest plan I've ever heard."
"Exactly." Erling pointed triumphantly. "Which is why it'll work." Jude hated how convinced he sounded. Worse... He somehow looked completely sincere. There was something oddly mature about the certainty in his voice. Or maybe Jude was simply too tired to keep arguing.
"...I'll think about it. Can we leave now?"
That was apparently enough.
Erling smiled so brightly it was almost blinding. "Deal!"
And then... They won.
Just like Erling had predicted. Erling was immediately pulled toward the press area while everyone else headed for the tunnel.
Jude slowed down. Am I actually going to do this? He'd spent the entire match trying to convince himself it was a terrible idea.
It was. Obviously. But...Things couldn't really get any worse, could they?
Before his brain had time to stop him... He turned around. Walked straight toward Erling. Leaned in. Pressed a quick kiss against his cheek.
...And kept walking. Calmly. Like nothing had happened. He didn't look back. He didn't run.
His teammates burst into laughter almost immediately. The teasing lasted the entire walk back. Surprisingly...It felt nice. Lighter. Friendlier.
Jude even joked back. As though nothing unusual had happened.
Later...
He quietly excused himself. Locked himself inside a bathroom stall. And only then... Every single drop of blood rushed straight to his face. His soul left his body. He covered his face with both hands. One thought echoed through his head.
...What the hell did I just do?
End of flashback
It took Jude a second to realize Erling was still talking. Apparently, while he'd been busy getting lost in his own memories... The Viking had never stopped speaking.
"...So?"
Jude blinked. "...Sorry. What were you saying?"
Erling didn't even seem offended. "Are we seeing each other?" We have to celebrate! We're both here! We're playing together again!"
"Against each other."Jude corrected automatically.
"Yeah, yeah." Erling waved the detail away."But we're together again!"
Jude smiled. Really smiled. Warmth spread quietly through his chest before he could stop it. Damn idiot.
"Not tonight. We both need sleep. And training. The next few days are going to be..." He searched for the word. "...Stressful."
Erling opened his mouth to argue. Jude raised a finger.
"I'm talking about me. I'm already stressed. I don't need you making it worse."
Erling deflated instantly. Like a puppy being told it couldn't go to the park.
"...Okay."
He sounded genuinely disappointed. Still... He understood. How could he not? It was the World Cup. Everything after this point was borrowed time. And honestly... He'd already gotten far more than he'd ever dreamed of. Norway had beaten Brazil. Italy wasn't even here. He'd celebrated like an actual Viking rowing a longship with the rest of the team. He'd laughed harder than he had in years. If everything ended tomorrow...He'd still leave grateful.
"...So when?" Erling asked. "You're impossible to catch." "You're always busy doing..." He frowned thoughtfully. "...important busy-man things."
Jude let out a tired sigh. "...After the match?" One of them would be going home.
The other...
Wouldn't. Jude already knew exactly how he'd react if he lost. He'd probably get spectacularly drunk... Find whoever had eliminated England... Congratulate them with the biggest smile he could fake... Then secretly hope they suffered the worst hangover of their life.
Erling... Erling would probably congratulate him sincerely. The idiot.
"Vicky." Erling's voice softened. "Promise me."
Jude looked back at the screen. "...Brauty. When am I ever not serious?"
Erling narrowed his eyes. "I'm being serious." A beat. "Seriously serious."
Jude laughed through his nose. "...Fine. We'll meet after the match. I promise."
Erling's smile returned instantly. "I'll be waiting."
"...Guess I don't have much choice." Jude smiled back.
"See you then."
The call ended.
Silence settled over the bathroom once more. Jude stared at his own reflection while washing his hands. The water kept running.
His mind didn't. A thought quietly settled somewhere deep inside his chest.
Heavy.
Inescapable.
Impossible to argue with anymore.
...I really like him.
...
"Oh, shit."