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After the disappointment on the pitch itself and the lack of a third star on the shirt, the French team still don’t leave their base camp immediately. There are a couple days to kill. And Désiré does - calls his brother for a catchup and then facetimes his best friend from home, simple things that keep him grounded.
Michael returns to his hotel room once more for another French lesson and they converse back and forth in French for as long as they can until the older man’s bank of vocabulary runs out.
‘’So what are you going to do on your last day in the States?’’ Michael asked in English, leaning back onto his palms and looking very relaxed. He was sitting on the end of Désiré’s bed, in a white singlet and some long grey shorts - his locs pulled into a neat ponytail, watching Désiré who was beginning to pack some of his stuff - to make it easier for later. He had already folded up his Playstation and there was a vacant space in a particular corner of the room.
‘’Well…I’m still thinking about it.’’ Désiré admitted, shoving several of his shirts into a suitcase. He had definitely overpacked and had not ended up going out as much as he thought he would have.
‘’Mmm,’’ Michael hummed casually. ‘’I heard Barcola is hosting another board game or something - you know - for routine’s sake.’’
Désiré nodded. ‘’Yeah I heard about that.’’ He folded another red shirt carefully. ‘’But personally I…’’ he thought about it and then bit the inside of his cheek. ‘’Nevermind.’’
Michael sat up a bit, the mattress levelling under his weight, gaze focused on him. ‘’Wait…personally you what?’’
Désiré paused.
Ever since Michael had kissed him on the cheek after the first session, it hadn’t gotten like that again. and as the tournament had progressed, Michael had seemed more distant and more distracted by the tournament. Which on the one hand made total perfect sense; Désiré didn’t have as much pressure as Michael did, not yet. Sometimes he had seen the older man in training or in the canteen with his eyebrows furrowed or a deep contemplative look on his face, had watched him walk past reporters and sometimes other teammates after the fact, clearly disappointed, not give them absolutely anything and with all this in context- and the nature of the massive tournament that had just reached its conclusion - Désiré’s personal request felt so incredibly juvenile.
‘’ Désiré.’’ Michael prompted gently, breaking into his thoughts. ‘’Come on, I wanna know.’’
Désiré did, his eyes finally meeting Michael’s dark brown ones. Even as he’d seen Michael lost in thought or irritated during the latter stage of the tournament, right now all he was focused on was Désiré. It was just like the first time he had come to his room, when the chandelier had caught the quiet, intense look in his eye. It made Désiré man feel braver.
‘’I wanted to get another tattoo.’’ Désiré said.
There.
At some point Désiré had checked out of his professional duties. In the game against Morocco and then Spain, he could feel his leg power abandoning him, or being frustrated in games and not being able to gain his concentration back. It had been his first world cup and his first time experiencing this type of magnitude and he would store all of it away for the next time that he came back to it.
But once he had checked out, he had started dreaming in the way he usually did before he had gotten the previous scrawls of ink that lined his body. When he had gotten the full image of Saint Michael all the way down his arm it had been preceded by a dream too. And just again yesterday he had experienced one which had kept him up at night, like an artist who would hear chords in his head and be kept restless by it, this was the way Désiré came up with the art on his body.
Désiré soldiered on. ‘’I know the mood is a bit… sober right now but…yeah I think I’ll be outside rather than with the boys.’’
Michael reflected for a moment, wrinkling his nose gently. ‘’No, that’s - actually a cool idea.’’ he said.
Désiré raised an eyebrow. ‘’Yeah?’’
‘It’s a good quality I mean… ‘’ Michael continued, nodding slowly. ‘’To be able to just move on from disappointment. And move on to something that makes you happier.’’
Désiré gave a small smile at the compliment. ‘’Thanks.’’
‘’No worries.’’ Michael smiled back.
They remained like that, almost frozen in place and in the back of his mind, Désiré had an instinctive thought about kissing him, wondering a little shamelessly if Michael could even read his thoughts, wondering if he even wanted him to or could he continue to secretly harbour his ever growing crush.
Michael cleared his throat suddenly, breaking eye contact. ‘’ Uh I could actually recommend you a place if you want.’’ He offered, getting to his feet and grabbing his phone on the desk. ‘’One of my cousins was here a few months ago and got one done. he said it was good.’’
Désiré gave a final tug to his suitcase, feeling his cheeks heat. He turned away from Michael under the guise of placing his suitcase into a vertical position. ‘’Please, that would be great. I was actually a bit stressed about finding which ones can do darker skin tones.’’
Michael, like a gentleman, accompanies him to the tattoo parlour on 8th avenue and they take the cab there. When they had walked through the hotel it had felt more like a ghost town - the lobby empty except for a few staff here and there. The magic of the tournament was over in that certain way in which good things come to an end. Yet as Désiré squeezed in the backseat next to Michael, their legs brushing so subtly, he wondered if the magic was truly over yet.
They entered the small establishment which was tucked next to a cafe shop and a massage parlour. The person at the desk was a perky black woman with short hair.
Désiré speaks up. “Can I get a walk in?”
“Yes of course. Just a moment.” She said and handed him a form to fill in some details, including the design of the tattoo he wanted and the placement.
He felt Michael watching him write over his shoulder, but Désiré still put down what was true to him. He wrote what he wanted was a two word phrase and the location: inner thigh.
Michael hovered beside him. ‘’Do you want me to leave?’’ he asked quietly.
‘’No, stay.’’ Désiré answered. ‘’ Mutual support.’’ he glanced back at Michael who was already looking back.
Michael swallowed and then he nodded. ‘’Okay.’’ he said.
The tattoo artist - a man no older than thirty - appeared with locs even longer than Michael’s own, alongside a friendly countenance and took the form from Désiré, leading them both into one of the private booths.
Désiré laid down on the bed whilst Michael settled in the chair beside him. It was endearing to see him be a little awkward and not so cool but eventually he settled in the seat, hands folded together on top of his lap.
The tattoo artist had already set up his station - machine, fresh needles, ink caps, disinfectant. He pulled on some black gloves and Désiré carefully pulled up the shorts he was wearing. The man’s gloves were cold as he traced the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, looking for any empty spaces.
“You’re getting another on your thigh?” Michael asked though it was less of a question and more of a statement since that was what clearly was happening.
“Yeah.”
“.. how do you say masochist in French? ” Michael asked.
Désiré smiles, tilting his head back. “Masochiste.”
“Yeah that.” Michael chuckled.
“Hey but I mean you have a lot too don’t you?’’ Désiré prompted. ‘’ On your arms and legs.”
“Not in the most sensitive areas." Michael replied pointledly.
Désiré is about to reply back but then he tenses slightly, as the tattoo machine first presses against his skin and all he can do is blow out a breath.
“Squeeze my arm.” Michael tells him.
Désiré glanced at him. “Sure?”
Michael offered his lean arm forward in response. Désiré curled his hand around his bicep.
It felt better. He wasn’t self conscious and Michael certainly wasn’t weak - he could handle it. So Désiré squeezed pretty hard, blinking a little from the nausea. It was what he wanted - he liked his tattoos like this but damn, it hurt.
‘’Tell me about yours. It'll distract me…’’ Désiré managed, feeling his head throb.
‘’Mine?’’ Michael iterates.
‘’Mhmm.’’ Désiré nods, glancing down at the ink on the older man’s dark arms. ‘’Tell me your story.’’
There is a pause and Désiré briefly wonders if he has hit an invisible wall with Michael’s introversion, that even though they have gotten closer over the past month maybe he still wasn’t comfortable. Then finally:
‘’Well - I've been getting tattoos since I was a teenager.’’ Michael started, just loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the gun. ‘’on random parts of my body. I got a chesspiece on my ankle because I liked playing it a lot at school.’’
‘’Logical.’’ Désirée comments.
‘’Then I got a phrase in a different language. Kaizen. It’s Japanese.’’ Michael continued. ‘’Because I liked the meaning.’’
‘’Whats… what’s the meaning?’’ Désiré asks.
‘’Ahh I finally get to teach you something.’’ The older man teased.
Désiré huffs a laugh, closing his eyes now and only wincing a little, as the man moves to a different part of his thigh, quiet like a fly on the wall to the point where he almost forgets about him.
‘’It means like - continuous improvement. ‘’ Michael explained. ‘’One of my coaches mentioned it and I liked it. Sounded cool.’’
‘’..motivant.’’ Désiré comments. ‘’I think my mother keeps saying one day I’ll regret some of my tattoos but I disagree. I like all of them.’’
‘’I hear that. It’s also like part of your personality - right?’’ Michael says with a quiet confidence. ‘’Because it’s so permanent and personal. Like when people look at me - do I want them to see this? Or do I wanna put it somewhere hidden. That’s what i always ask myself.’’
Désiré was briefly floored and wished they were having this conversation over a dinner table somewhere, so Michael could look into his eyes as he said that - because what the fuck was that?
‘’ I wish I had a better response.’’ Désiré managed, bracing himself a little.
Michael shrugged with a half smile. ‘’You’re distracted, it's alright.’’
‘’I’m serious.’’ Désiré insisted and then it turned into a gasp, his hands slipped down from Michael’s wiry arm to his hand instead. “Fuck, sorry.”
“Painful?”
“Especially.”
“It’ll be worth it though. Remember. ” Michael curls their fingers together so now they were interlocked.
“Yeah.” Désiré said, watching their hands instead.
After an hour it was finally done, the tattooist spent a couple of quiet minutes wiping over the area.
“I’ll just give you a few minutes to settle…” The man said as he left the room,
“Thank you so much.” Désiré said gratefully.
It was incredibly sore but satisfying, the familiar aftermath feeling he was used to. Beside him, Michael was leaning back in the chair, looking at some of the art displays in the room - portfolios of the parlour’s work and evidence of their craft, Coloured and black and white.
Désiré ran a thumb over Michael’s hand, alerting the older man.
“Mhm?’’ Michael sat up in his sea and turned to Désiré, eyes running over him. ‘’ Are you good?”
“Yeah.’’ Désiré nodded. ‘’Thanks for staying.”
“No problem- I enjoy talking to you so…”
That was so lovely to hear. Désiré smiles “ - Man, I just like you so much.”
And Maybe it’s because he’s sensitive after getting the tattoo but the words come out without any filter. The usual part of him that self censors isn’t working. The part of his brain that overthinks about social cues, and signals and doesn’t want to tell someone that they like them unless they’re guaranteed to say it back.
Michael hesitates for only a second - brown eyes widening in a way shows the youth hidden underneath the grown man but then he presses his lips to Désiré’s ear, breath warm and tingly. ‘’Good because I really like you...’’
God.
Désiré grins harder, turning his head in his direction, his head throbs once again but not because of the dulling pain. “Michael.”
“I’m here.“
“I know I just like saying your name.” Désiré said cleverly
There was a soft expression on Michael’s face. From this angle, and with his locs pulled back into a ponytail Désiré could see it so very well - all the sharp angles of his face, his eyelashes.
“ Désiré.” is all he can manage to say and then he leans in and kisses him . On the mouth this time.
Désiré thinks that it's nothing like kissing a girl. He's been kissing them for ages and wondering secretly why he never felt this before throughout high school and even into his late teens and now he knows why. God, he knows.
Michael tugs on his afro hair slightly and Désiré lets out a suppressed moan which Michael hears so he kisses him harder.
There is the distant sound of the perky receptionist tapping on her computer, someone outside thanking them for the service but it's irrelevant because Michael doesn’t let go of him, because nobody enters the private booth theyre in.. its perfect. Michael’s mouth is so warm, his tongue soft when it finds his own. Gentle yet commanding and almost freeing. This is not the man who is pensive over a football tournament, this is the man who pulls on Désiré’s bottom lip until it stretches and then he nips at it again, and then again for a third time like he is insatiable and cannot get enough.
Désiré sits up as much as he can on the bed, feeling his stomach flip.
They pull back to catch their breaths, Désiré has no words. Certainly not in English, not then.
‘’Tu es encore plus beau de près’’ is what he whispers quietly like a confession for himself, something only he can understand- but Michael hears it, his eyes twinkling..
‘’I know what that means.’’ Michael whispered back in French, voice deeper and teasing, a little proud but somehow also completely soft.
Désiré opened and then closed his mouth in surprise. .
‘’Oh you learn so quickly.’’ Désiré muttered before his lips were moving over Michael’s once again and it didn’t really matter what language they were conversing in as long as they kept kissing.
The two worded phrase he had just gotten tattooed on his thigh area said specifically - remember us, of which was meant to stand for the united states but conversely, and as their noses pressed harder against one another - Désiré realised more appropriately that it would and could apply to them.
He was okay with not getting the second star. This was a million times better.