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PRE MEXICO
Jude really should be sleeping. It’s late, and he’s sore to the bone from all of the training that they’ve been doing in preparation to face Mexico two nights from now.
His dirty clothes are thrown haphazardly all over the floor and he knows he’ll regret it in the morning when the smell of sweat permeates his hotel room, but he can’t bring himself to care. He knows he should turn off his phone and sleep soon because he has to be up early tomorrow too and Harry will definitely chide him for it, but he can’t seem to do that either. Not when all of his social media timelines and feeds are filled entirely with edits of him (that one isn’t new and he enjoys the attention) and edits of him and Erling Haaland of all people.
He’s speechless. It’s ridiculous! He can’t believe his eyes at some of the things that fans are saying and posting, he doesn’t know where they found some of these clips, but most of all, he can’t believe how he keeps rewatching them. It’s absolutely ludicrous. It’s so ludicrous that he somehow ends up pulling up his and Haaland’s messages with his heart beating too loudly in his chest for his liking.
Their messages have been dry for a long time, save for the recent “Happy Birthday” text from Haaland. He knew they would grow distant after they went their separate ways after Dortmund. He knew it, and Haaland knew it, and he convinced himself very hard that he was okay with it. Because at the end of the day, he’s a professional athlete, and he doesn’t have the time to worry about these types of things. He can’t afford to.
But, at the end of the day, Jude is also just human. And God knows he would be lying if he said he doesn’t miss Haaland. It’s too easy to miss him, especially with Haaland’s growing fame. Jude doesn’t blame them. The blonde had always possessed a certain type of talent that wasn’t out of reach for Jude but also still made him jealous of it. When he watched Norway play against Brazil and win, he cheered so loudly for Haaland it embarrassed him.
He missed him. He missed being with him. Seeing all of these strangers on the Internet, players and fans alike growing a fondness for Haaland, makes him want to open Instagram and yell at the world in big bold Comic Sans that he knew Haaland first. He knew Haaland first, and he got to witness Haaland’s brilliance personally. He was there first. Haaland knew me first too!
It’s childish thinking. Jude is a grown man, for god’s sake. He can’t be thinking like this. It’s definitely distracting him from his training and he can’t let anything affect his performance. After allowing himself one last edit of him and Haaland, he promptly powers his phone off and goes to sleep before his mind can wander too far.
When he wakes up, he briefly remembers a dream of running his fingers through blonde hair and inhaling a familiar scent and it makes him so mortified that he deletes all of his social media apps for the rest of the day.
POST MEXICO
England won. England won and Jude scored two goals in a row and his blood was pumping so hot through his veins that he was sure he would turn into fire right then and there on the field in the stadium. There’s so much screaming and shouting in the locker rooms afterwards and Jude is tossed into the air more than once and there’s not a word in the whole Oxford dictionary that can describe what he’s feeling. England winning means they will face Norway on Saturday, and his heart is buzzing for all sorts of different reasons.
He still hasn’t come down from the feeling even after all of their celebrations are over and he’s walking back home to his room to rest for the night, and only then does he pull his phone out. The notification on his screen startles him so much that he drops his phone out of shock like a teenage girl before he can even get his room key out.
It’s a message. From Haaland. Erling Haaland. They haven’t texted each other in months.
Jude manages to pull himself together enough to pick up his phone and properly enter his room safely. Then, he checks the text.
Eerling Haaland
Hey. Congratulations. You played well.
Jude blinks. There’s nothing wrong with the message; they used to text each other more often and congratulate each other after matches even after they parted ways. Whether it was silly things that made them laugh or occasional check-ins. Jude always watched Haaland’s games when he could. He knew Haaland did the same. It used to flatter him whenever Haaland would send him particular photos or snippets of a goal Jude scored and compliment him personally for it. But that's just the thing. They used to text each other. They don’t anymore. It doesn’t matter that Jude misses him every time he sees a new photo or video of Haaland, it doesn’t matter that Jude used to reread their text messages late into the night just to remind himself of what it was like to feel something real, it doesn’t matter that he maybe kind of sort of had feelings for Haaland and maybe kind of sort of still does.
It doesn’t matter because they weren’t anything despite their history. And, well, they can’t be anything. All of the memories that Jude keeps tucked in his mind of him and Haaland sharing everything together are just for him to keep. They’re not meant to mean anything more than what they are. He’s put aside the ache he felt from no longer being the one to fall asleep next to Haaland after a harsh day of training a long time ago. He doesn’t know who keeps Haaland’s bed warm anymore, or who he eats with. He doesn’t want to know, really.
Haaland is just being friendly. He’s being formal and friendly and he’s reconnecting. Jude can only be grateful. He didn’t even realize how elated he is to have received the text. He can be normal about this.
You
Thank you mate. You played well too.
He exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding once he presses send and almost drops his phone again at the speed of which Haaland replies back to him.
Erling Haaland
Thank you.
How are you feeling?
Jude feels a bit crazy. It’s not even a crazy question. He’s just being polite, but it’s just been so long since they’ve talked that Jude can’t help but feel his heart race out of excitement? Anxiety? He can’t tell anymore.
You
I’m good. What about you?
Again, another fast response.
Erling Haaland
I’m great.
Watched your game. You were great.
He can’t help but genuinely smile at this, even though he’s been told countless praises throughout the night, Haaland’s words still mean more to him.
You
Haha, thank you again. Watched you too. You were unbelievable as always.
Erling Haaland
You watched me too?
You
Why wouldn’t I? Lol
Erling Haaland
I don’t know actually.
I always watch you too. All of your games.
People love you.
Jude pauses. He doesn’t know how to respond. Why had Haaland asked him that? He should know by now that Jude watches everything that he plays in, that he always checks and likes Haaland’s social media updates. He has been doing so for years. He wouldn’t be able to stop if he tried. He stares at the last phrase.
People love you. Jude knows this. He knows his fans adore him, and he knows his parents are proud of him, and he knows England is proud of him. He’s proud that he has become someone to be admired. Still, sometimes at night, when the rush is over and he’s alone in his bed, he wonders if someone will love him. He wonders, then, as he stares at the text, if Haaland is one of the people that loves him too. He can’t possibly ask that though. Briefly, one of the edits of them appears in his head and he takes it as a sign that this must all be a bad omen from the universe.
You
Thank you.
I always watch you too.
Erling Haaland
Are you alone right now?
Okay, that is an objectively weird question. Why would Haaland ask this? Jude’s mind immediately runs through all of the different scenarios as to why Haaland would want to know this. Is he just asking to ask? Is it a bit lost in translation? That can’t be right, though, Haaland has always been good at English. Is he hurt? No, Jude can’t imagine anything could harm that man.
You
I am. Why?
And then, his phone rings. Haaland is calling him. Haaland is calling him. Jude stares at the screen dumbly. If Haaland texting him is a phenomenon, then Haaland calling him is a once in a lifetime happening. Even when they were still close before, they never really called. He picks up and tentatively turns the speaker on just so he doesn’t have to hold the phone to his ears lest Haaland hears his racing pulse.
“Hello?” He says and hears shuffling on the other end of the line before a familiar voice speaks up and Jude is so overwhelmed by how long it's been since he’s heard Haaland speak that he turns his phone volume up to the maximum just to hear more of his voice.
“Hey Jude.” Haaland says, his Nordic accent muffled through what sounds like fabric covering his mouth. “Hey, so, I’m just going to-what's that phrase called? I am just going to cut to the chase.” He continues, voice clearer now, leading Jude to assume he must have pulled off whatever was muffling his voice earlier.
“What does that mean? Also, wow, it’s been so long since we’ve spoken-”
“I am outside of your hotel, Jude.”
“You’re what?!” Jude stammers. “What are you saying, Erling?” He breathes out, in disbelief. Using Haaland’s first name again for the first time in ages makes him feel a certain way too. It still rolls off his tongue perfectly and he wants to say it again immediately.
“Did my audio cut off? I said I am outside of your hotel. I am in the lobby now, but I do think the people are recognizing me.”
“What the fuck, Erling? Why the hell are you here?” Jude is already out the door and punching the numbers into the elevator to get down to the hotel lobby before he can think about his actions more. This is simply too much to process. It’s so late. He should be sleeping, again. But Haaland is here. He’s here and he’s so close and he wants to see Jude. That must be why he’s here. Right? There is no other reason. But there could be so many more reasons behind that reason. Jude feels absolutely insane.
“Ah, it is a lot to explain. It will be better when I see you. Where are you now? I would like to see you.” Haaland says, and he even laughs, like he himself is amused by the strangeness of their situation. Jude can’t wait for this elevator to go down fast enough, if only to demand answers and also to see Haaland.
And then, he does.
It’s almost like a movie scene; the elevator doors open comically slowly, and when they finally open wide enough for Jude to slip out, he spots Haaland in all of his 6’5 glory standing in the hotel lobby with his hair tied back into his signature ponytail and a black mask half on his face. His eye widens immediately when he sees Jude, and his face splits into such a familiar grin that Jude has been the recipient of so many times that for a second he forgets where they are and who they are; for a second, it’s just Jude and Haaland, freshly 18 and 20, with dreams too big and smiles too wide for their growing faces to contain.
“Jude.” Haaland says, coming closer and looming over Jude. “It’s good to see you.”
Jude laughs incredulously. “I don’t know what to say. It's good to see you too. Why are you here? How are you here? You should be with your team.”
“This is true. I shouldn’t be here.” He pauses, and then looks at Jude. “But I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see you.”
Jude wants to scream. He can only stutter. Jude Bellingham, star player, England midfielder, winner of multiple awards for his athleticism, stuttering and blushing like a high schooler with a crush for the first time at such simple words.
“I-Why?” He manages to get out. Only then does he realize he’s in his sleep clothes at the moment, slippers still on his feet, and people are starting to look at them, clearly realizing who they are. He grabs Haaland’s hand to lead him back into the elevator. “Let’s talk in my room. Can I get you anything to eat or drink? Does anyone know you’re here?”
“No thanks, and no. I came on my own. It was…spontaneous.” Haaland muses as they make their way to Jude’s room after the most tense elevator ride Jude has ever had in his life. It felt like Haaland was staring right at him without even blinking.
Jude is still reeling from shock. He wasn’t expecting to see Haaland until their match honestly, and even then, he wasn’t fully prepared for how to greet him again. And now Haaland is just here, in his hotel room. His teammates are in the rooms next door. Haaland’s teammates are–he doesn’t even know where they are. Doesn’t even know where Haaland is staying for him to be here right now at this hour of the night.
“Well?” Jude says once they’ve sat down and he’s gotten them both water.
Haaland takes a sip so small for his big size that it almost looks funny. “Well,” he starts, “Are you happy that I’m here?” He asks, smirking a little bit like he isn’t driving Jude crazy.
“Are you teasing me? Is this some sort of prank for the press?”
Haaland snorts. “No, no press. I am the only one who is doing this on my own.” He takes another sip of water, his large hands engulfing the whole width of the glass. “I watched you play. Against Mexico. Like I texted you, you played well.”
“Right. Thank you.”
“I needed to see you. I couldn’t-” Haaland pauses and his faint eyebrows scrunches like he’s trying to think of the right words. “I couldn’t stand watching you through a screen anymore. I needed to see you. In person. Soon. So now I am here.”
Jude gawks at him. “What?”
“It is the truth. What is that phrase? To be frank? To be frank, I missed you.” He sounds so unlike his usual self. He sounds soft.
“I…I missed you too.” Jude meekly says, feeling entirely out of his element, even though what he’s saying is true. He has missed Haaland so much. He just wasn’t expecting the man to be the one to say it first. “Did you really come here just because you missed me?”
“Yes. I’m telling the truth. I have not stopped thinking about you since this whole World Cup, honestly.”
Jude feels his heart leaping out of his throat. “Erling…what do you mean by that?”
“What do you want it to mean?”
“I don’t know, Erling. It’s past 2 in the morning and we’re playing against each other this weekend. And we haven’t really spoke to each other in months. And now you’re suddenly here and you’re saying all of these crazy things-”
“It’s not crazy. I know it seems crazy or you can call it what you like, but it is true that I miss you. It is not like I have stopped. I told you this before, in Dortmund. That I would miss you.”
“That-that is entirely different! Of course we both said we were going to miss each other. That’s obvious. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Jude exclaims, unable to believe that this conversation is actually happening. He is going to get into so much trouble for not getting enough sleep. He still can't believe Haaland is still here. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to Haaland in person, since they’ve been able to look at each other like this and talk and hear each other’s voices. He could reach out and touch Haaland if he wanted to. He could touch his hair again like he used to love doing back then. They were never shy of physical touch with each other, and their fans seemed to pick up on this too, what with the plethora of edits that he’s seen of him and Haaland happily intertwined with each other. Suddenly, the distance between them on the couch seems too far.
“I think,” Haaland says, thinking carefully again. “I think you know what I am trying to say. Because I know you watch all my games. I was just asking earlier, but I knew it. I hoped so.” He confesses. “I watch all of your games too. I always watch you. I know you watch me too.”
“Erling-”
“Tell me I am right. Please.” He says, accent thickening. Jude swallows at the sudden stuffiness in the room.
“I’m not…I’m not saying you’re wrong. But you can’t just say things like this, Erling.”
“Why not? Everyone else in the world is saying it. It made me think.”
“Oh my god, you cannot possibly be talking about what people have been posting.”
“I am, actually. I am on social media a lot.” Haaland explains. Jude believes it. He’s seen Haaland’s Snapchat. He giggled at it more than he would like to bravely admit. Still, this is absolutely absurd.
“Tell me you were not thinking about it too. What we had back then.”
“We had nothing! We-we weren’t-” Jude struggles to get the words out. “We weren’t anything.” He says, but it immediately sounds wrong leaving his mouth, to call him and Haaland nothing. Not when he still remembers so vividly the smell of Haaland’s hair after he freshly showered and he would hop onto Jude’s back just to make him fall over. Not when he used to stay in Haaland’s room long into the hours of the night, just like how they are now, because it was hard for him to sleep and he wanted company. He would fall asleep on the floor and wake up in the morning with a blanket laid over him and the sound of Haaland’s snores filling the room. Their teammates used to endlessly tease them for being inseparable. They even had Haaland and him reading pickup lines together for Valentines Day. It was so wrong to call them nothing. But, then, what were they?
“Really?” Haaland deadpans. “Because it’s not like that for me. We’ve always been something to me. Even after I left, you were always something to me. Actually, it’s hard for me to stop thinking of you. You know, the Internet really does love you.”
And you? Jude wants to ask. Do you love me too?
“But….I…”
“I still remember, you know. I remember everything we did. It makes me happy to think about it after a long day. When I see people post new pictures of you, I always remember how back then I was the one who took those pictures.” Haaland continues. “So I’m telling the truth. When I’m saying I’m here because I missed seeing you. Saturday is too long.”
“But why else? Do you just miss me? That can’t be the only reason why you’re here.” Jude presses. “Tell me the whole truth, then. Since you’re being truthful.”
Haaland stands up suddenly. He turns to Jude very slowly and bends down so that his shadow covers Jude’s face, and he’s close enough now that Jude can smell his cologne. Its the same cologne he used back then too. It’s the same one Jude used to love smelling on his jersey whenever they would tackle and hug and fall into each other's arms.
“The whole truth is that I’m here because I miss you and, “ Haaland leans down closer until his face is merely inches away from Jude’s own and his warm breath is fanning Jude’s face, “because I wanted to see if you missed me too. Enough for me to do this.” He whispers, and then leans down fully to press his lips against Jude’s in a kiss.
Suddenly, Jude can no longer hear his own heartbeat. He no longer hears the buzzing AC in the room, nor the loud cars outside. He hears nothing. All he can feel is Haaland’s warm lips on his own, and he feels a hand on the side of his face, and there is nothing else in the world at that moment that would have pulled him away from the feeling.
When they finally part, there is a flush on Haaland’s face and Jude is sure he’s blushing too. He feels his ears turning red as he realizes the magnitude of what just happened.
“I want you.” Haaland rushes out, sounding borderline desperate in the mere span of seconds and it’s so bizarre to see him in such a state that Jude embarrassingly feels heat pool in his stomach at the tone of Haaland’s voice. And his accent. God. “But you have to want me too.” He says. Jude swallows, and realizes Haaland’s hand is still on his face, cradling it like he’s made of glass and not flesh.
“I do.” Jude croaks. “Fuck, Erling, I do want you, I’ve missed you more, and-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Haaland is kissing him again, and again, and again until he’s basically on top of Jude and pressing back against the couch so that he can put his hands on Jude’s waist. He feels fingers gripping tightly onto his sides and involuntarily lets a noise escape him between their kisses. This breaks Haaland out of their kiss and he pulls back. Jude mourns the loss instantly, and he’s no longer embarrassed of whatever they’re doing. He’s wanted this for so long.
He’s wanted this ever since he knew Norway would be in the World Cup and there was a chance for him to be close to Haaland again, no matter how the odds were. He’s wanted this ever since they were still playing in Dortmund together, when he was still getting used to his growing limbs and strength and the only person who he could confide in was Haaland. When the only person who could help him feel at ease enough to fall asleep with was Haaland. Haaland was the first person to defend him for every conflict and the person who stayed by his side throughout all of their long days. He wanted, but he knew he couldn’t have it, but still, he hoped and wished and longed and then shoved it far into the back of his mind whenever he couldn’t afford the luxury of thinking about Haaland. But it would always come back.
He wants this so much. And with the way Haaland is looking at him, hair falling out of his ponytail and hands trying to touch all over Jude like he can’t get enough of him, he thinks Haaland wants this too. Almost as much as him. Maybe even more, because Haaland’s hands are getting very adventurous and his lips are leaving trailing kisses down Jude’s throat that he can only gasp at. His skin feels like electricity.
“Erling, we have to slow down, we can’t-”
“We can’t what?” Haaland breathes, kissing him again. “I have not seen you in so long. I cannot stand leaving right now.”
“No, you don’t have to leave, but someone could be looking for you and-”
“No one is looking for me.” Haaland assures. “I made sure of it. I am only yours right now.” He says, sounding too serious for Jude’s heart to handle. “Please, Jude. Let me stay tonight. And then in the morning, you may kick me out. Or I can leave first. Whatever you want. I want you. You want me too, right?”
Jude nods hopelessly. He does. He does.
“Then please. I’ve missed you too much. It’s so hard seeing people fawn over you and they post all sorts of videos about you all of the time, and I watch all of them by the way, but none of it is the same as seeing you in person.” Haaland says, holding Jude’s face again and swiping a thumb across his lips. “You are more beautiful than the cameras can show.”
Jude knows he’s certainly a blushing mess now. “Stop it. You’re talking too much.”
“I can stop talking if you want. I can do more doing.” He says, his lips quirking up into a teasing smile and Jude doesn’t know if he wants to punch him or kiss him senseless again.
“You are seriously unbelievable.”
“You should start believing.” He kisses Jude again, and it's slower this time. Jude realizes he has chapstick on, and it tastes minty. It’s sweet.
“Tell me if you really want this.” Haaland says again, suddenly quiet. “I know this is sudden, and I know this is shocking. I would have wanted to do it a different way. A better way. But I couldn’t think of any other ways and I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to see you as soon as I could.” Haaland says. “Tell me if you’re unsure. Or if you are sure. I just want to know if this will mean something after I leave.”
Jude doesn’t hesitate. He would have earlier, but now he does not. Now, he thinks he can afford to indulge in this. “I’m sure that I like you.” He says. “I think it may be stronger than that…I…I’ve felt this way for a long time.” He confesses finally, the secret out and raw but not unobvious.
“Since when?”
“Dortmund. You were more than my best friend.”
At this, Haaland smiles. “It’s the same for me. It hurt the most to leave you.”
“It hurt the most for me too. But even after, I still liked you.”
Haaland smiles again, more giddy this time. “I hoped so. I really, really hoped so.” He says and comes all up in Jude’s personal space again. “I knew I would see you again. I told myself I would be honest with you. So I am here.”
“Were you planning to kiss me too?”
“It wasn’t unplanned.”
“You really are unbelievable.” Jude laughs, delirious from all of the highs he’s felt today.
“Let me be more unbelievable.” Haaland murmurs, hand snaking around Jude’s waist again and behind his back, his knee inching closer to Jude’s oh-
He looks at Haaland. His heart is beating so dangerously fast.
“Do you-
“Are you-”
They both laugh as they stumble over their words at the same time.
“If you want.” Haaland whispers, achingly soft again. Right now, Haaland doesn’t look scary or funny or anything else that people have posted him to be. Right now, Haaland just looks like Jude’s. “I’ll do anything that you want. I just want to stay the night with you.”
“Anything I want?”
“Anything you want.” Haaland confirms, still soft. His voice has also gotten deeper, and judging by his appearance, Jude knows Haaland has wants too.
“I want you, then.” Jude says, uncaring of how they’ve kept repeating the same phrase over and over again. “In all ways. I have wanted you for a long time. And I know you want me too.” It’s his turn to lean into Haaland now, back arching towards Haaland so that Haaland’s hands can fit more comfortably around his waist. Haaland looks mesmerized by the sight of him. “So yes. Whatever you’re thinking of. Yes. I want it.”
It doesn’t take long for them to fall back onto the couch, Jude’s hand tangled in Haaland’s hair so that it falls completely out of his ponytail and Haaland’s hands are under his shirt and his lips are nipping at every part of skin on Jude’s body. The only sounds in the room are their heavy breathing and the gasps leaving Jude as Haaland continues to move down with his kisses, and he can only close his eyes in bliss. When he opens them again, Haaland’s shirt is off and his shirt is off too.
“You are so agonizingly beautiful.” Haaland whispers, leaving kiss after kiss on Jude’s lips.
“W-where did you learn that word?” Jude says, breathless.
“I learned it just to say it to you one day, just like this.” Haaland says, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw. “Agonizingly beautiful. Perfect for me. Sculpted. Painfully gorgeous. I can keep going.”
“You are such a flatterer.”
“I am not. Like I said,” he says, a hand moving down to pull at the drawstrings of Jude’s shorts. “Everything I say to you is the truth.” And then his hand is palming Jude through his boxers and any other coherent thought is effectively knocked out of him.
They leave the couch for the bed not too long after. Jude knows for a fact Harry is going to be absolutely livid at him tomorrow, for both missing sleep and for the marks all over his neck.
...
Haaland texts him again the next night, after he left in the morning with more than enough kisses for Jude to miss him by, and with more promises than he thinks either of them will be able to keep. But this time when he sees the text, he no longer feels scared. He opens it and can’t help the grin that makes its way onto his face
Erling Haaland
I miss you again already. Truth.
See you on Saturday
You
I miss you too. Harry yelled at me about my neck. I told you not to leave marks, you animal
Erling Haaland
I could not help it. Also, you did not tell me to stop
They look good on you
You
Well I can’t let my team know I’m having a rendezvous with the enemy
Norway sent you to distract and seduce me didn’t they?
Erling Haaland
I am the enemy now? We are like enemies to lovers. That’s what they would call us
Also, that is untrue. If anyone is using seducing tactics, it is England against me. They are using you
Afterall you are the omega with pheromones and I am the alpha
You
OH MY GOD YOU’VE SEEN THOSE EDITS TOO????????????
Erling Haaland
👍👍👍