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It’s only eight PM, and Ness already wants to strangle someone.
Unfortunately, he allowed himself to be dragged off to some bar by his Bastard München teammates to drink, under the guise of “celebrating their victory.” Of course, that’s complete bullshit—these idiots just want to get drunk.
Whatever, just because they insist upon drinking doesn’t mean that he has to. Ness is far more content to watch Kaiser socialize with the others effortlessly, flitting around like the fake social butterfly that he is. Ness sees right through him.
The thing that’s really irritating him right now, however, is none other than one Isagi Yoichi.
Isagi is the bane of his existence. He stole the spotlight from Kaiser, he constantly humiliates Ness on the pitch with his cruel words and manipulative actions, and right now, he’s—well, he’s playing a drinking game with the rest of the Bastard München team. Huh.
It seems as if everyone else has forgotten their loyalty to Kaiser, with the way they’re all gathered around the Japanese player, each vying for his attention like a lost puppy begging for a treat. It’s ridiculous. Ness can’t fathom what is so entertaining about that short menace of a striker.
But apparently, there’s something he’s missing, considering the way the blue-haired midfielder and the little shark-looking boy with a braid are looking at Isagi all reverently. How obnoxious can they be? There isn’t anything special about Isagi.
His face is normal. Well, normal in an attractive sense, but he’s an athlete so it’s to be expected. It’s not like his eyes are particularly striking. They’re just plain old blue—yeah, maybe the kind of vibrant blue that makes it hard to look away, but. And his body is just a typical athlete’s body, with toned muscles, thick thighs, and a slim waist that Ness could probably fit one hand around. Nothing special.
Wait, did that thought seriously just run through his mind? Sober? There’s no way.
Perhaps Isagi is using some sort of dark magic to make himself so appealing to others. Yes—that adds up, because there’s no other explanation for the magnetic pull he has on others—speaking of which, it seems as if the striker has attracted someone else from the bar now.
It has to be some kind of foul play. Just now, Ness had even thought of Isagi’s body in…that way. Ness doesn’t…check people out. Except maybe Kaiser. So that means it has to be a curse, a spell, some sort of dark magic that he uses to be so sociable and popular.
He’s not even likeable! Surely everyone can see how fake his cute little smiles are, the way he doesn’t think twice before spouting off some kind-of-sexual comment that will throw someone off their game for the rest of the day (Ness is definitely not speaking from experience, of course). Like, no one can be that oblivious to the things that come out of their mouth—it has to be some sort of manipulation tactic, some ulterior motive.
Just a few days ago, Ness had been on the team opposite Isagi for a scrimmage, and he had brushed right up against him in a press that was way closer than necessary. And then—fuck, Ness had been so flustered, because what was he thinking saying that?
You have a really nice body, Ness.
He scowls just thinking about it, eyes still glued to Isagi, who is now conversing animatedly with the random guy who had approached him. Ness thinks he’s far too smiley and comfortable with a complete stranger—doesn’t he know how dangerous that is, when he looks so small and cute? What if someone decided to kidnap him?
Not that he cares, of course. It’d be well deserved, considering the way he refuses to obey Kaiser like the rest of the team.
He watches them from his spot at the bar, tuning out the idle chatter of Kaiser and Grim beside him as he scowls to himself. Neither of them are annoyed enough at Isagi’s existence, and it irritates him to no end.
“What’s your problem, Lexi?”
The sound of his name snaps him out of his one-sided staring contest, and he looks to his right to see Kaiser raising an eyebrow at him. Like he’s doing something wrong.
“What do you mean?” Ness tosses back, because two can play that game.
He doesn’t have a “problem.” Isagi has a problem, and Kaiser of all people should know this.
“You’re staring at Isagi like you want to eat him alive.” Grim chimes in, annoyingly, and Ness wants to rip the hair out of his head.
“Like I—what? I hate him. I’m glaring at him.”
“Yeah, because glaring at someone you supposedly hate involves staring at their ass, and shooting daggers at the person they’re with like you want to murder them.”
There’s Kaiser again, grating on Ness’s already ragged nerves with a teasing voice. Ness can’t believe his horrible luck—evidently, Kaiser is not feeling very amicable tonight, and Ness is already far too aggravated to deal with that, not when his blood is already boiling with rage.
“You’re delusional.”
“And you’re jealous.”
Ness blanches, then lowers his eyes at Kaiser, warning him with his gaze. Kaiser just keeps talking. Ness thinks that he looks much prettier when he shuts his fucking mouth.
“I don’t know if you seriously haven’t realized this about yourself, but you obviously have some sort of strong feelings toward Isagi.”
“Yeah, and that strong feeling is overwhelming disgust! Do you hear yourself, Michael? We’re talking about the guy who ruined the final match of the NEL for both of us! I don’t like him!” Ness rants, growing more and more agitated by the second.
Somewhere in his peripheral, he watches the man Isagi’s with lean in way too close, gaze flitting to his lips before returning to that blue gaze. Fuck. Why is this upsetting him so much? It must be that he’s so wired right now, his emotions are spilling into one jumbled mess of dissatisfaction and negativity.
“I think you’re in denial, puppy,” Kaiser says with an infuriating smirk, before raising his hand to flag down the bartender, effectively cutting off Ness’s reply.
A tall man in a black polo slides over to assist them, and Kaiser promptly orders three shots of vodka. Ness watches him pour them out, staring dejectedly at the small glasses while he pointedly ignores both Grim and Kaiser.
Kaiser thanks the bartender in rapid German, then passes a shot to Ness, who takes it willingly, throwing it back and grimacing at the bitter taste. So much for not drinking tonight.
“Fuck you.” He replies belatedly, tossing the insult at Kaiser without meeting his eyes.
This is ridiculous. Ness truly cannot believe he’s having this conversation right now, and with Kaiser of all people. Hell, Kaiser should hate Isagi more than he does! But he’s—matchmaking them right now, like this is normal, like Ness actually cares about that idiot Japanese boy.
“I think you wanna fuck him, and you don’t know what to do with that.”
Ness whips his head over, shock and anger painting his face as he stares at Kaiser uselessly.
“That’s—you’re crazy.” He sputters out, unable to come up with any solid rebuttal, too irritated to speak.
The blue-blonde man just smiles knowingly at him, like he isn’t spouting utter bullshit right to Ness’s face, and throws his own shot back without a single flinch. Bastard. He knows Ness has never been able to drink as easily as him, yet he still shows off every chance he gets.
He doesn’t want to fuck Isagi. He wants him to shut up, sure, but not by fucking him. Some other way would do, like slamming him into the lockers of the German stratum they share, like wrapping a hand around his throat and holding it there in case he protests. Maybe if that wasn’t enough, he could lean in and—
Shit, shitshitshit. Looks like the alcohol is getting to him already, in record time, because there’s no other reason why he’d be thinking something like that.
With exasperation in every cell of his body, Ness looks to the side, trying to catch Grim’s expression to see what he thinks. Surely, he’d back Ness up, right? He can’t seriously believe this crap, too.
But Grim is not there. He must’ve slipped away some time ago.
That leaves Ness to deal with an out-of-his-goddamn-mind Kaiser all alone, and an extra shot between the two of them—clearly, Kaiser hadn’t noticed the departure of their teammate, either.
“No, it’s for you, Lexi. You look like you need a little more tonight.” Kaiser says, reading Ness’s mind easily.
Fuck this. Fuck Kaiser. Fuck Isagi.
He tries not to let his apparently traitorous mind wander to thoughts that contain fuck and Isagi at the same time. Ness thinks that would prove to be disastrous.
He grabs the second glass, too, and braces himself for the burn as he swallows it in seconds. Ness definitely does not peek sideways to watch Isagi let himself get pulled even closer to the other man. He definitely does not grip his glass so hard it almost breaks before setting it against the table.
“Why don’t you just go talk to him, if you’re so frustrated about him talking to someone else?” Kaiser suggests, pushing all three glasses forward to signal that they’re finished.
“I’m not frustrated.”
“You’re so fucking tense right now that you look constipated.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Just—” Kaiser doesn’t get a chance to finish whatever idiotic blather he was about to spew into the world.
“If I go over there and…talk to him, will you leave me the fuck alone about this?” Ness interjects, trying to ignore the slow spread of intoxication through his veins. He needs to be at least somewhat clear-headed to deal with this bullshit.
Kaiser’s face brightens up immensely, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Of course! I just think that since you care about Isagi so much, you should follow your heart and—”
With that, Ness abruptly stands from his chair and hightails it away from Kaiser, drowning out the final bits of his voice as he stalks right toward Isagi. Contrary to popular belief, he’s not a masochist, which means he’s not going to sit through more of Kaiser’s deranged rambling.
It’s now or never, before he backs down, before he succumbs to the vodka and the hesitation that always holds him back.
The man who’s managed to capture Isagi’s revered attention is some unattractive, obviously drunk idiot who has a hand around Isagi’s waist. Black hair, black shirt. Way uglier than Ness, for sure, and more boring too.
When the fuck did that happen? Ness tries to remain calm as he approaches them, but he can’t stop zeroing in on the contact between the two, fury warping his thoughts even though he shouldn’t feel anything at all.
Ness is so angry. At Isagi, for whatever black magic he’s performed on Ness to make him feel like this, and for allowing this irrelevant side character to touch him so casually. At Kaiser, for egging him on, feeding him shots like he’s not well aware of how much of a lightweight Ness is. But mostly at himself, for caring so much about the one person he’s supposed to despise.
That anger and frustration spills right out of him, in the calculated form of a dangerous smile and his own hand around Isagi’s arm.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m afraid Isagi’s had too much to drink.” Ness spits, speaking with no filter. He has no clue if Isagi has drunk anything at all, but, semantics.
He watches pure surprise take over Isagi’s face as he turns to face Ness, jerking away from his grip in confusion. The other man is shocked, too, but he takes a small step back and drops his arm from Isagi’s waist—perfect.
“Ness? What—” He doesn’t wait for Isagi to finish his wholeheartedly perplexed comment; he just uses his leverage on the other’s bicep to yank him completely away from the man.
It feels good to finally touch him. It soothes some ache within him that he hadn’t even realized he’d been feeling until it disappeared. What the fuck.
Unsurprisingly, Isagi only allows himself to be yanked around for a few seconds, then rips his arm back and stops dead in his tracks. That’s fine. Ness didn’t really know where they were going either, just that Isagi needed to be by him instead.
They’re by a corner of the restaurant, the brick of the walls only a few meters away from where they stopped. It’s quieter, both literally and in his head, considering that no one is watching them anymore. Ness had felt the gaze of the man Isagi had foolishly entertained drop away a few seconds ago now.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” Isagi questions, now sounding more frustrated than confused. That’s not good. Not that he cares or anything.
Ness turns around to face him, taking in flushed pink cheeks and slightly hazy eyes. It looks like his bluff about Isagi drinking wasn’t too far off from the truth after all. He looks good like this, despite the pout on his face—it’s probably meant to be intimidating, but Ness has a good few inches on him, and it renders Isagi’s attempt useless.
He should probably respond instead of staring at Isagi’s face. Right.
“Um,” Ness says, intelligently.
Suddenly, he’s forgotten why he’s here, in front of Isagi, in the first place. You can’t blame him—Isagi looks almost alluring right now, both hot in the way he glowers at Ness like he’s menacing, and cute in the way his stupid little hair-sprout defies gravity still. It must be a trick of the light.
Isagi’s eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms with a huff.
“No, actually, what’s your problem? Why are you trying to get in the way of me having fun? Isn’t it enough that you’re always tormenting me at practice?”
“It’s just—wait, what? Since when have I tormented you?” Ness answers, losing track of his response amidst his confusion.
The other boy shoots him a nasty look, but it really has the opposite effect. Maybe Ness is already drunk, but to him, it just looks—cute.
“Are you serious? You’re always glaring at me, you only pass to me if you literally have no other option, and you’re so mean to my friends! I really don’t get it! I tried so hard to be nice to you, despite the way you and Kaiser have treated me, and then you act like this!” Isagi finishes with an exasperated sigh, kind of out of breath after the short rant.
A thought forms in his head, a dangerous thought, and it slips out before he can reel himself in.
“I’m not glaring at you, I’m just watching you.” Ness blurts out, then slaps a hand over his mouth as his face immediately heats up.
Isagi’s mouth parts slightly, and he loses his angry-chipmunk look for a moment in favor of just staring at Ness with pure confusion on his face.
“That’s all you have to say? What is that supposed to mean?” Isagi says, after a moment of silence. Ness can feel the blush spreading across his cheeks.
He doesn’t really know what he meant either, but confidence is key and Ness does not know when to quit. Evidently.
“Uhh…exactly…what it sounded like?” Fuck. What is he saying? This is humiliating.
It appears that Isagi shares the sentiment—he looks at Ness like he’s grown two heads, which he might as well have. Then, a small smile creeps up Isagi’s face (no, his heart doesn’t race at that, fuck you), and he takes a step forward, right into Ness’s personal space.
The shift in mood is immediate and intense, some thick wave of an unnamed force washing over both of them. Ness watches Isagi’s pupils dilate in real time, the black void of his soul expanding before his eyes. Not for the first time tonight, Ness feels like he understands Isagi’s many admirers.
Ness can feel the way he’s surely been trapped, captured in Isagi’s claws like a dumbass mouse. The tension accumulates every millisecond he waits for a response, until it crescendoes, spilling over in the form of Isagi’s words.
“Are you fucking with me, Alexis?” Oh god. His first name on Isagi’s lips is sinful. He wants—no, he needs—to hear it again.
He looks so delectable, with his blue-black hair a little messy from the night, cheeks tinted red from whatever he had to drink, all dressed up in a cute button-up shirt that fits his waist like a dream. Ness wants to step forward, closer, and dig his teeth in.
Maybe Kaiser was onto something when he practically forced Ness to come over to Isagi. This is great.
Letting the side of himself that’s more sure, more willing and confident take over, Ness moves even closer, crowding Isagi against the brick wall of the bar. They’re all the way in the corner, now—they migrated some time between Ness grabbing Isagi away from the other guy and Isagi confronting him.
“Do you want me to be fucking with you?” Ness sends the question right back, letting a self-assured smile spread across his face.
Isagi puffs out a breath in annoyance. Ness takes another step forward.
“Because I can walk away if you want,” a step—Isagi’s back hits the wall completely—”or, I can show you a good time.”
Damn. His nerve is impressive even to himself. He’s sure Kaiser’s all satisfied from afar, probably shocked at Ness’s luck, shocked at the ease in which he had whisked Isagi away from the crowds. He hadn’t even done it on purpose, but. He’s not complaining.
Evidently, Isagi shares the sentiment, if the way he suddenly averts his gaze shyly is anything to go off of. Ness gently grabs his chin, redirecting his line of sight, forcing them to maintain that unbearable eye contact, because now is not the time to back down.
Under his breath, Isagi mumbles something that he can’t catch. It makes him curious. It makes him want to rip his skin off and expose the blood that runs beneath it, hot and fresh and ready to escape from the tight confines of his existence. Mostly, it makes him want to eat Isagi alive.
“What was that, Yoichi?” The given name feels like honey on his tongue, sticky and cloyingly sweet.
The other boy shudders minutely, instinctively leaning towards Ness as if seeking something more. The motion doesn’t escape Ness’s observant gaze—no, he acknowledges it privately, tucks it away under a folder in his mind now labelled Isagi is clingy? to ruminate over later.
“Fuck it,” he replies, and then Isagi is standing up on his tiptoes and pressing his mouth against Ness’s.
In an instant, every cell of his body experiences what can only be described as blinding white, hot like the surface of the sun, all-consuming like a blizzard.
The feeling of Isagi’s soft, plush lips mutes every thought in his brain except wow, this is incredible. And—it really, really is. Ness kisses back with just as much ferocity, the same passion that he can feel pouring from the other.
Yoichi kisses him like he’s trying to steal the very breath from his lungs. It’s addicting, and it triggers a kind of head rush that leaves all hints of restraint long gone. Ness wants more, more more—and Yoichi is giving it to him; he’s pressing back despite being at a height disadvantage, and claiming Ness like he owns him.
Desperate to regain control, Ness slips his tongue into the inviting heat of Yoichi’s mouth, drinking in the little noises that spill out when he does. God, he never knew that Yoichi could make those kinds of sounds, but now that he does, he’s afraid he’ll never be the same.
Ness pushes further, bringing one hand up to Yoichi’s cheek to cradle his face and the other down to his narrow waist, gripping those toned muscles he’d been eyeing all night through the shirt. Yoichi trembles in his hold, arms wrapped around Ness’s neck, still propped up on the tips of his toes. It’s cute.
Feeling greedy, egged on by the soft whimpers and groans that fall from Yoichi’s lips, he times a dominating sweep of his tongue with his hand finding the hem of Yoichi’s shirt and slipping under, palm spreading across the skin there like he’s trying to claim it for himself.
It must’ve been too much, because Yoichi breaks away, and Ness forces his own eyes open to see what’s wrong.
Well—perhaps a better term would be what’s right. Because nothing could possibly be considered wrong, not with the way Isagi’s lips shine softly with spit, or how he’s panting like he just ran a mile, or the flutter of his abdomen beneath Ness’s fingertips.
Still, Yoichi pushes him back gently, taking his hands back from where they were around Ness, putting some space between them. He isn’t a fan.
“What?” Ness asks, breathlessly, trying not to whine at the loss.
Yoichi hasn’t made a move to dislodge his hand from underneath his button-up, so Ness keeps it there, relishing the warmth and closeness. He tracks the movement of Yoichi’s mouth, catching the split-second where his tongue peeks out from the side.
“Focus.” Like a kid getting caught stealing from the cookie jar, Ness’s eyes snap up to Yoichi’s guiltily.
This time, Ness actually does whine a little, letting his lips fall into an exaggerated pout, all while sneakily bringing his free hand up to meet where the other rests on his waist. He feels the breath catch in Yoichi’s lungs—the only sign that he’s feeling the way Ness traces his abs, with both hands, now.
“Why’d you stop.” It’s a statement, not a question, somehow. Yoichi seems to get it anyway.
“We’re both drunk, and at a bar, with all of our teammates and a bunch of random people nearby. This isn’t exactly the best place to…realize our…attraction, to each other.”
Ness frowns at him, then slides his hands upwards, fingers brushing Yoichi’s pectorals. He really couldn’t give a shit about anything like that.
Too far. Yoichi glares up at him (up at him, Ness thinks with glee) and in one smooth motion, brings his own hands up to yank Ness’s away and out of his shirt, effectively ending the feeling-up that he was enjoying.
It’s not enough to dampen his elation, though, at getting a piece of Yoichi. Some part of his mind wonders when the hell he started admitting that he likes him, but Ness brushes away the unimportant thought. Instead, he sticks out his tongue playfully, holding his hands up by his head in a you-caught-me kind of way.
To Ness’s surprise, Yoichi giggles at him, eyes sparkling with mischief at the gesture. Something inside his chest breaks open, fills up to the brim with a new sensation called Yoichi’s laughter, and seals back shut. It’s a novel feeling, but not an unwelcome one. It makes him feel a little drunker than he really is.
It must’ve shown on his face, because Yoichi’s expression falls flat—not meanly, just plainly present, observant, making Ness want to squirm at being examined so closely.
Then, the final blow to his heart is delivered.
“You like me.”
Ness panics. Then, he makes his worst error of the night—silence. Which Yoichi notices, absorbs, then continues, pressing on the raw, open wound of Ness’s feelings with far too much force.
Fuck, no wonder people get so addicted to him. Being with Isagi Yoichi is like living on a knife’s edge, being so scared of falling off that you don’t even realize the danger of being cut. Yoichi is the adrenaline rush of danger, soothed with the comfort of beautiful eyes and an effervescent disposition.
If Ness comes out of tonight alive, he’s sure that only one thing will be absolutely positive—that you should never, under any circumstance, underestimate Isagi. Or maybe that he kisses like he never wants to let you go. Either of the two works.
“Holy shit, you fucking like me,” Yoichi laughs, though his bright smile does nothing to calm Ness’s cold blood.
The situation is quickly spiraling out of his control, and he watches it go with sadness, reluctantly accepting his new fate. Now that Yoichi’s got this outlandish idea in his mind, he’s not going to let it rest. Ness can see it in the way his gaze sharpens, the way his eyebrows raise in mock surprise, like he’s known this for some time.
“I do not. Like you,” Ness spits back, but it sounds unbelievable even to his own ears. Fuck.
Does he—? Does he like Yoichi?
He didn’t even realize he felt anything for the striker, other than hatred, up until the vodka set him loose, along with the irresistible presence of Yoichi himself. But now, now—it kind of feels undeniable. And really, the only thing that he can think is—
“Fuckkk. Kaiser’s never going to let me live this down.”