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It was a warm summer night, as thousands of fans packed the Etihad, despite the summer heat, to watch Dortmund and Manchester City face off against one another in a high-stakes Champions League match. It was 2-1, with Manchester City leading the game. With ten minutes left on the clock of regular time, both teams were still going at it hard. Manchester City pushed for the insurance goal to create a two-goal gap, while Dortmund desperately searched for an equalizer to take at least one point back home with them.
The ball flew high in the air as Donnarumma booted the ball deep downfield.
Leaping up high to gain first contact were both Erling Haaland and Jobe Bellingham. They flew high in the air, neither wanting to give the other possession. In the end though, the number 9 for Manchester reached the ball first, flicking it downwards towards a teammate's boots. As he came down from the aerial battle, however, his hand found purchase on Jobe’s shoulders, accidentally shoving the Dortmund midfielder hard enough to send him crashing to the ground.
The whistle blew, sharp and loud, cutting through the noise of the crowd, stopping play. Before anything else could happen, Jobe was already up on his feet, shoving his face into the other’s space in anger.
“What the fuck was that for?” Jude snarled.
Not one to back down from a fight, Erling leaned his head forward into the challenge, making contact with the other till they were standing there pressing against each other head-to-head.
“You just went down easy,” he growled back.
Before they could get more physical, the referee forced his way between the two fighting alphas. Their teammates stepped in, grabbing at them respectfully, dragging each of them backward by their shirts and arms, before either could escalate the situation even further.
Jobe struggled against the hold of his team, wanting to throw a punch or something, glaring daggers as he was held back.
Just as Jobe was about to break free and lunge forward, letting his anger get the better of him, the bright yellow of a card appeared before his face. The alpha was about to cry about the injustice of it all, only to see the ref immediately turn around and give one to Haaland too.
Good, Neanderthal deserved one for that challenge.
Jobe accepted the consolation with a huff, forcing himself to walk away. Getting another yellow and himself thrown off the field was not worth it over the stupid Viking of all things.
He still made sure to throw one last glare at the blond, who was busy insisting to the ref that he was not the one to start the fight, and that the shove was just regular play. Nothing worthy of a yellow.
Play eventually continued, with tensions on the field still high after the encounter.
When the final whistle eventually blew, it was 6 minutes into injury time. With Manchester City managing to maintain their lead, as Haaland, of all players, found a goal late into extra time. Manchester City delivered the club three points with the 3-1 victory, much to Jobe’s frustration.
After the final whistle, all the players shook hands, acknowledging each other with the customary ‘good game’.
Jobe made sure to shake hands with all the opponents save for one with the stupid blond, whose face he was looking forward to not seeing for the rest of the night. The alpha turned to leave back to the locker rooms, only to spot a familiar-looking figure at the mouth of the tunnel. And approaching the figure was a familiar-looking alpha with a giant goofy smile on his face.
“Erling!” the figure in the tunnel called out, stepping out of the shadows to show that yes, it was in fact his older brother, Jude.
Jude, his adorable older brother that everyone loved, and loved to hate. Extraordinarily talented and kind to everyone around him. He was definitely the more popular of the two of them, having had a longer career in the spotlight. But that didn’t matter to Jobe. What mattered to Jobe was all the attention that talent and kindness brought, good and bad. And any alpha that laid eyes on his brother was bad attention.
The omega had come down from the stands to greet his mate and his brother after the match. He had come to watch the game, as he was still recovering from arm surgery; he had chosen to stay in Manchester with his alpha while he had free time during his recovery schedule. The timing of the two teams' matchup couldn't have been more serendipitous for him.
It was rare he got to watch his mate or brother play. Usually if either were on the field, Jude would also be there, battling it out with them for the ball. So, this fixture in the schedule worked out perfectly, giving him a game he could actually sit and watch of both clubs of the two men he loved. He had been looking forward to this match since he found out that he could attend.
"You were amazing," Jude beamed, as he found himself wrapped up in the taller’s arms. “Both of your goals were brilliant to see!”
“I dedicated both of them to you,” Erling proudly proclaimed.
“I saw,” Jude smiled up at his golden retriever of a boyfriend. Both goals, Erling celebrated; he did Jude’s icon goal scoring pose, and the omega melted inside both times at his boyfriend’s devotion to him.
“But if it were me,” Jude couldn’t help but playfully tease his mate, “I'm sure I would’ve made it a hattrick, before the final whistle.”
Before he could continue on the moment safely in his mate’s arms, and congratulate him on the win with a kiss, did the omega found his right arm grabbed, tugging him away from the comforting hold.
“H-Hey!” Jude exclaimed as he was thrown off balance by the motion.
His vision became filled with the colour yellow, but unlike the ref’s card earlier, it was the back of a Dortmund jersey standing firmly blocking his view of his mate.
Jude could tell the outline of the figure instantly, which stood two inches taller than him; it was his little brother. Who, for all accounts, had planted himself squarely between the two, and was once again snarling at his mate, with the hostility of a guard dog protecting its owner.
Jude rolled his eyes at the actions of his little brother. Reaching up, he smacked Jobe in the back of the head and then reached over to do the same with the Norwegian. The two men turned to him in synchronized indignation.
“You numbskulls, every time I see you together, you're always fighting.” Neither alpha looked particularly remorseful over their action during the game.
"Today it was yellow cards," Jude lectured, folding his arms. "At this rate, both of you are going to get sent off because you can't stop acting like newly presented cubs."
“You didn't even greet me, your younger brother who you’ve known for longer first!” Jobe cried out, trying to gain some sympathy for his case.
“Hey, I was just greeting the first of the two of you I saw! I was still going to come and say hello after,” Jude defended himself.
“Well, he started it,” Jobe petulantly added on
“It was an accident!” Erling raised his hand, trying his best to look innocently at Jude.
Jobe looked ready to restart the fight from the pitch. Jude’s eye just twitched at the whole interaction.
“Why is it you guys can’t ever get along!” Jude threw his right hand up in exasperation, the other restrained by the sling.
He remembered last family dinner when he brought his boyfriend with him. That evening they had all sat outside to play a game of Monopoly while enjoying that warmer weather. The game had somehow devolved into an argument over who was the real owner of Boardwalk. With the game ending up spilled over the grass, with cards and pieces flying everywhere, and the two alphas wrestling it out on his backyard lawn. His dad eventually had to intervene by hosing them down to break up the fight. Both of them looked like drowned rats by the end of the night, and they still somehow had the audacity to continue arguing with one another over who used what shower when going to dry off and change.
Jude has never been more mortified. He had burrowed into his nest later that night, refusing to come out, no matter all the apologies both alphas had come to make him. But at least glad they had the decency to keep the argument in the privacy of their home, instead of out in public, till now, clearly.
“I wish,” Jude huffed, looking between his impossibly stubborn little brother and his mate, “for once in my life you two would actually get on with one another.”
Both alphas just turned to each other and gave the other a scathing look. Jude just let out a deep-seated sigh. It seemed tonight would not be the night that wish would happen. If ever.
It was the next day, and both Erling and Jobe were at training. There truly was no rest for professional players.
Since Jobe's team was staying in the city for an extra day, Jude demanded from both of them that they come over to Erling’s place to have dinner like one happy little family. It had taken a fair amount of convincing when he first mentioned it. Jobe protested, and Jude had to do some extra “persuasion” about it all to his alpha. But eventually they both agreed, as neither alpha had been capable of saying no to him when he gave them puppy eyes.
Erling had left that morning, with promises to bring back steak on his way home. He still wanted to get along with his mate’s brother, even if the other always somehow brought out the worst in him. And to do so, he still needed to show goodwill by being a good host.
Once Erling had left the house, Jude waited an hour, checking his phone intermittently. When he was certain his mate would likely be deeply occupied and focused in on his schedule, Jude snuck his way to the washroom despite knowing that no one else was in the home. Standing in front of the cabinet, he pulled out his pill bottle of painkillers that the doctor had prescribed.
The label read: Take 4 pills every 6 hours. Jude tipped the bottle and poured out 6.
Now, was what he was doing against recommendation? Probably. But Jude had important plans. The World Cup was right around the corner, and as soon as he was cleared, he wanted back on that starting eleven. He refused to let weeks of inactivity land him on the bench during the matches, or worse, not even on the squad.
He didn’t care if, once he got back to it, the inactivity cost him only a few more extra weeks to truly get back into shape when they told him he was good to go. No, Jude needed to prove that he was worthy of his spot on the England squad. Prove to himself, the world, and especially the omega-phobic English press that he deserved a place on the world stage.
Grabbing a few of the spare balls lying out around the house, Jude made his way over to the yard.
His alpha had a full-sized goal set up in the back, because of course the star striker would spend his free time kicking balls at the net for fun. Some days that annoyed Jude, as on occasion his boyfriend’s passion for football was so great, he would let it carry over to his free time too. All Jude wanted to do when they had free time together was cuddle, even if it was in front of the TV watching a game of football. But this time, the setup actually benefited Jude this time.
Lining up the balls, Jude took a couple warm-up shots and a few gentle touches around the pitch. Nothing too strenuous, he told himself, just enough to keep himself in it.
At least, that had been telling himself, as this wasn’t the first time since staying at his mate’s place that he had been out in the yard with the ball, downing a few extra pills so he could practice for just a while.
After he felt warmed up, he upped the level of his intensity. Picking up the pace, His touches became sharper and his stride faster. He added in a few fancier moves to his dribble and hit the ball just a little bit more power at the net. All while ignoring the twinges of pain in his arm, telling him that he was pushing past what his body currently would allow.
His body might want him to stop, but Jude was not about to let that hold him back. The world always tried to hold him back. Growing up, it had been his classmates after he presented, refusing to pass the ball, some kids on his junior teams telling him he was too delicate to play.
Now, as a star player for England and Madrid, it was the public. Nasty comments left under his posts, or snide ‘commentaries’ from pundits on desks and podcasts questioning if her really deserved to be there. And especially the rag of paper The Sun was, declaring that it was the end of the sport itself in the country, when Jude made his first appearance for the England senior national team. Never mind that Anthony was also on the team, but two omegas and a visibly coloured one at that; well, it clearly was the end of times. With Jude holding the brunt of the public’s blame for that lack of hardware, the current English squad had brought home.
Jude only took that hate and let it fuel his determination to get better. Feeding off the energy the naysayers gave him, and forging it into something stronger, allowing him to push forward to where he was now. What he didn’t need was his own body betraying him at such an important time in his career, too.
A bit too lost in his determination to push past the limits his body was imposing on him, Jude kicked the next ball a little too hard. The strike came off his boot with power, rocketing towards the goal. However, due to Jude getting distracted in thought, the ball crashed the crossbar instead of landing in the net. Ricocheting off, the ball came hurling back towards him.
Jude realized his mistake a second too late. Painfully, the ball slammed into his left shoulder, sending sharp stabbing pain all the way down his arm. Caught off guard, the force caused Jude to stumble. Unable to catch himself, he was sent sprawling backwards onto the lawn.
He lay there for a second, looking at the bright blue sky, mocking him with how happy it looked. Bright blue, with soft, perfectly white-looking clouds. With an irritated groan, he smashed his head backward in frustration. He felt like this recovery was taking forever; he just wanted to be back in the game already.
As he went to lift his head to get up, movement caught the corner of his eye. Snapping his head towards the intruder, ready to deal with a random stalker or some overzealous paparazzi, Jude saw that it was his little brother standing there, not looking all too pleased.
“What are you doing here so early???” Jude scrambled to his feet, hissing in pain at the sudden movement. Unconsciously grabbing at his arm to try and lessen the pain. Jude was suddenly very aware of the situation he was in, hoping Jobe had only just arrived.
Based on his younger brother’s body language, however, with his arms folded, wearing an expression that could only be described as profoundly unimpressed, Jude guessed that it was highly likely that Jobe had been there longer than a few seconds.
“Coach let me off early since he knew I had supper with you,” Jobe stated simply, as if remarking on the weather. “You didn’t answer the door or your phone, but I knew you were here. So, I just walked around to check if you were outback.”
Ugh, his mate seriously needed better security if his little brother could get in that easily. Jude made a mental note to tell Erling that later on.
“Better question, though: what are you doing practicing instead of resting?” Jobe accused him, making Jude feel like he was all of a sudden thrust up onto the stand during Ace Attorney.
“I don’t know what you're talking about,” Jude denied, despite the evidence all around him and having clearly been caught in the act.
“Yah, sureeeee, super believable bro.” Jobe just looked deadpan at Jude's obvious lie. He pointedly looked around the yard at all the scattered balls before staring straight at the arm Jude was clutching in pain.
His older brother couldn’t lie when they were kids, and he couldn’t lie now. His guilty eyes always gave him away. “Cause it looks to me like you were defying the doctor's orders of strict rest for the first few weeks after your surgery.”
“I was just getting some fresh air,” Jude tried again with a new excuse.
“Uh-huh.” Jobe nodded along, with the weak attempts to refute the allegation.
“And maybe… I just saw a spare ball lying about and for fun kicked them?” He confessed
“Yep, totally plausible,” Jobe pretended to agree, continuing to nod along.
“Except for the back that I literally saw you take a bunch of other shots before that!” Jobe came back into the conversation, slapping down the defense with his damning testimony.
“The doctors told you to rest.” The alpha started to mount his own case.
“And I have been,” Jude objected.
“You literally are not; in fact, you just reaggravated your injury because you weren’t resting,” Jobe sassed back in a mocking tone.
“I misjudged a kick,” Jude pleaded his case.
“Well, you shouldn’t have even been taking that kick in the first place!” Jobe shot back, “I rest my case.”
Jude wanted to argue back, but he couldn’t think of another dispute to save him from his brother's claims against him. While Jude stood there, his mouth gaping like a fish trying to drum up a new argument to pull the tides in his favour, Jobe pulled his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through his contacts.
“What are you doing…” Jude cautiously asked.
“Calling in backup to get it through your thick head that you need rest.” Jobe offhandedly replied
Jude relaxed at that remark. Who was he even going to call that would make that big an impact while he was over here in the UK for the next few weeks?
“What are you gonna do?” Jude goaded him. “Tell mummy? Cause she can’t do anything about that all the way in Spain.”
Slowly, a devilish grin came over Jobe's face, spreading ear to ear as he found the person in his phone he was looking for. His thumb that was hovering over a contact came down like a gavel declaring Jude guilty on all accounts, “No, I’m calling your boyfriend.”
Jude's mouth dropped open at the audacity of the little geminin.
“The fuck you are!” Jude launched himself towards the other, in an attempt to grab the phone. But Jobe was already running off, phone to his ear, cackling like a hyena in glee.
Jude gave chase, but in his current medical state, the footballing having reaggravated his injury. Unfortunately, an injured midfielder was no match for his perfectly healthy younger brother.
Jude couldn’t keep up before the call connected, and Jobe was far out of his grasp.
“Hallo?” Came the voice from the other side of the call.
Jobe grinned. Oh, this was going to be good.
Fuck. What had the world come to? Jude thought to himself as he found himself sitting on the couch across from his little brother and his alpha.
The other two sat side by side, not fighting, not arguing, not even sneaking glares at each other, with both their attentions fully directed on him.
“…You know this should be illegal.” Jude broke the silence, wanting whatever this conversation was about to be over with already.
“Jude…” Jobe began. “You know you’re supposed to be resting.” Of course, his brother couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie; what a wretched world the omega lived in.
“Kjære,” Erling stared softly. Jobe couldn’t help the little scoff at Erling’s nickname for Jude. “We just want you to get better, and to do so, it's best to follow the doctor’s orders.”
“Look, it was just this one time!” Jude insisted, “I swear, I swear!”
Erling just raised his eyebrow as he brought up his phone, unlocking it. On his screen, security clips appeared as the alpha hit play. They showed Jude practicing in the back, dated since the second day he had been staying there.
The evidence seemed endless, as the alpha continued to flip through to the next video and the next. Jude in the garden, Jude taking shots, Jude embarrassingly wadding into the pond to get the ball out of the water. Though the important point of it all to the alphas adjacent to him was that it was irrefutable images of Jude doing exactly what he swore he was not doing.
Of course, his mate had to have bloody cameras of all things in the backyard.
“I thought it was this once when I first saw,” Jobe remarked, “but knowing you, I made sure to have Erling check his security footage since you’ve been staying at his place.”
Erling??? Since when was his mate Erling to Jobe??? Jude began catastrophizing internally. The horror of one word leaving his little brother’s mouth was assaulting his ears; this had to be some sort of harbinger hinting that the end of the world was near.
A shiver of disgust at what was happening in front of him ran down the omega’s spine. When he said he wanted them not to fight, he didn’t mean like this. Whatever this was.
“You know what?” Jude declared, as he began to crawl up the back of the couch in an attempt to escape the intervention. He jabbed his finger accusingly at the both of them, erratically moving his hand back and forth between the two, not knowing who he felt more betrayed by in the moment.
“Red card, fucking red card. This is NOT happening. NO teaming up against me, you’re both supposed to be on my side!” He shouted out indignantly.
“In fact, I’m disappointed with you both.” Jude tried to pull off his best disappointed-looking face. “I’m supposed to come first in both these relationships. And most definitely over whatever alliance you two clearly have brewing.”
But both alphas, however, could see right through to his guilty self; it really was the eyes that gave him away.
“Besides, I am doing fine!” Jude continued, “The doctor even said that light exercise is good for me, so really you both should leave well enough alone.”
Neither alpha bought the claim for a second.
“Did your doctor also recommend pumping yourself full of painkillers?” Erling remarked, hitting on the head Jude’s act of taking more pills that were strictly prescribed. Which had led to him refilling his prescription earlier than he meant to let happen. And damn, how did Erling find out about that within the time they sat down and Jobe called him?
“We all know your stubborn ass is ignoring the doctor's orders,” Jude unhelpfully added, pointing to the evidence that was the Norwegian's phone. “And you and I both know you’ll continue to do so. The second we look away, you’re going to be back on a field dribbling, and worsening your arm, delaying recovery.”
Jude’s mouth just opened completed offended by this all. “I would never,” He swore, hand to chest.
Both alphas just gave Jude a very flat look.
“This is completely unbelievable,” Jude muttered, as he knew he was not going to win this fight.
On the other side, ignoring his outrage entirely, Jobe and Erling, as if to prove the Armageddon truly was upon them all, opened up their scheduling apps to work out whatever it was they were plotting. Against the one they were supposed to love nonetheless! Both were in cheery moods, having dominated the conversation against a certain bratty omega who usually got his way.
“Stupid donuts,” Jude cursed under his breath.
Afterwards, Erling and Jobe had apparently decided on what they called ‘Jude watch’ and had somehow made a schedule of who would make sure Jude was taking the right amount of medication, meal check-ins, and rotating shifts to make sure he was actually resting his arm, instead of training.
Much to Jude's dismay and utter horror, the schedule they laid out proved to be frighteningly efficient. He couldn’t escape all the phone calls and check-ins, ensuring that he maintained whatever weird health regimen that the two alphas had decided to implement based on what his doctors had recommended.
And heaven forbid if Jude ignored them; he found out the hard way. As someone would always appear at the door within the hour. Most of the time it was Erling, occasionally Jobe even flying back over the channel on his days off. Other times, to his humiliation, one of Erling's teammates would show up at the house to make sure Jude hadn't wandered outside with a football.
The most mortifying time was when he tried to ignore them and escaped into the city, in an attempt to avoid the overbearingness of the two alphas for just an afternoon; that was the day he found himself face to face with Pep Guardiola.
After Jude had dodged all the cameras and shut off his location tracker on his phone, the omega had found himself a secluded spot in a small, family-run diner with a small park and a field across the road. Just as he was about to dig into his order of orange chips, someone sat down next to him. It was Manchester City’s manager.
Pep just looked at him, the greasy chip between his fingers, and glanced toward the park that Jude may have been considering visiting before returning home.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” He simply stated before walking away.
Jude was seriously considering changing his name at this point and moving to another continent. Maybe even a small island community where no overbearing alphas were allowed.
The crowd erupted in cheers, and the final whistle echoed around Hard Rock Stadium. They had done it. England was moving on to the semi-finals in the World Cup for the first time in a very long time.
Jude couldn’t stop smiling. He had finally recovered from his arm surgery. And it showed with his performance of scoring two goals in the game, putting England through to the next round. He now sat on the table at six goals overall in the tournament, only one away from breaking an English record, as a midfielder and an omega no less.
He had silenced the haters and the papers, who claimed that such a temperamental omega would only spell the doom of the team's 2026 World Cup run.
He was grateful to be back on his game, in front of a crowd, doing what he did best: winning. (Not that his mate and brother's intervention actually did anything to help; Jude liked to believe)
Jude was overjoyed. Sure, it sucked that to do it, he had to defeat his mate, but they both knew that once on the field it was anyone’s game.
Walking around, Jude made sure to shake all of the Norwegian players' hands. Really, they should be proud of what they accomplished, and he would love to face them again.
The final player’s hand he reached out to shake before he planned to give a big hug to his alpha was Martin Ødegaard’s, the Norwegian captain, and an alpha to boot. Martin greeted him with a smile.
“Congratulations,” Martin greeted him. “Those were some incredible goals you scored. England is lucky to have you.”
“Thanks,” Jude grinned at the compliment. “But it sure wasn’t easy against your defence.”
“If you don’t mind,” Martin hesitantly began. The beginning of the request stopped Jude from moving on to greet his mate. “My wife is a big fan; do you mind if we swap shirts?”
And how could he say no to his mate’s captain? “Of course.”
In a quick movement, Jude grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted his jersey over in one smooth motion. Just as he was about to hand the jersey over, two distinct growls reached Jude’s ears from across the pitch.
One came from off to his right, and the other behind him from the tunnel entrance. Jude recognized who they belonged to in a split second and just closed his eyes in exasperation.
“These complete and total knotheads.” Jude pinched the bridge of his nose, getting ready for the oncoming headaches that were approaching him fast.
Soon he found himself yanked backwards by two separate pairs of hands. It was déjà vu to the Dortmund and Manchester City game. Only this time, he was now standing between the two alphas who now kept a fragile alliance over their agreement that Jude was some sort of princess that needed to be protected from both himself and others.
And keep the alliance they did. Growling at alphas together all the time. Those that stole looks at Jude out in public, or when other alphas got too close to their liking. There was even this poor alpha, at a restaurant when they were all out for a meal together. He was clearly mated and just wanted Jude’s autograph. Jude had quickly signed a napkin for the waiter and left a large tip as an apology for the other two's behaviour. This interaction with Martin was just the latest in the installment of transgressions of the pact the two alphas had made with each other.
Shaking his arms loose, Jude whipped around and with lightning-fast movement, smacked both alphas on their foreheads.
“You idiots! Have some fucking respect for Norway’s captain,” Jude snapped as the comment was slightly more pointed toward Jobe before he turned to Erling. “And you! You can’t fucking growl at your captain”
"But-" Jobe and Erling began to protest.
“Martin is mated! You both know this! He has a kid! This is for his wife! You know, the well-known football player’s wife who does advocacy for omegas in sport,” Jude scolded them. “I swear, lately it seems like you two share the same brain cell when it comes to letting your instincts override reasonable thought!”
After chewing their ears off for a few more minutes, Jude finally handed his shirt over to Martin, taking the other’s shirt in exchange. Though there were still some reluctant grumbles behind him.
“Sorry about them,” Jude apologized. “Ever since my surgery recovery, they have somehow banded together to become this homogeneous overprotective being”
Martin just laughed at the antics of the other two. “No worries, I'm used to it with all the complaining Haaland did at camp over how much he missed you, and how worried he was that English alphas might get too rough with you during training.” Jude blushed in mortification at the news.
As Martin walked off, having handed his jersey off to the superior player of the match. Jude turned to have another word with his brother and his mate again. Only to have Martin’s shirt ripped out of his hands by Jobe, and find himself stuffed into his mate’s shirt, leaving Erling shirtless for the cameras and the media to eat up.
Jude pulled down the collar that was over his eyes, only to be greeted with the sight of two satisfied alphas that looked far too pleased with themselves.
Jude let out the longest sigh of his life, giving up on dealing with both of them for the day already. He was too tired to deal with their shit. One he could take on during a good day, both of them, now that felt like a punishment only Sisyphus could handle.
“I miss when you two hated each other,” Jude grumbled.