Chapter Text
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Love Potions - Instrumental Slowed + Reverb - by saint7 on Spotify ♬ˎˊ˗
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The weeks leading up to that game, the FIFA semi-final: four years of not being by each other's sides. Four years of not having practice together. Four years of not going out for drinks and celebrating the team together.
Four years since Erling left Jude in the summer of 2022 to play for some other team. And one year later, not being able to wear that yellow Dortmund jersey anymore. Finding a new team where Jude wasn't constantly reminded of where Erling left him. His friend… his good friend. It just didn't feel the same without him there.
But with this new upcoming opportunity to see each other again and not as teammates, but as rivals, it would just be nice to see him again.
Those days in Dortmund, where the young Jude first met Erling, were like their golden days. They truly were the bestest of friends… Jude's not too sure if that still applies, but he'll take every opportunity in interviews to say that they were the bestest of friends, showering Erling in praise in hopes that he would see it.
In the years after he left, they both did great in their respective fields and blossomed. And in 2024, in June, while Haaland was on vacation in Capri, Italy, not to forget, Erling, as always, found Jude to be alluring. He was always amazed by him. His sweetness. His kind, round eyes.
So while Erling was on his yacht enjoying his off-season, sailing around in Capri, Italy, with some good friends, chilling, having a good time in early June, right when Jude's Skims ad had been released, it was around 6:30 that afternoon when Erling was scrolling on Instagram, enjoying the sunset on his yacht deck. Then his thumb pauses and his eyes dilate with the softness that can only be described as one thing.
Love.
He brushes it off as a dopamine-type thing, like when you see cute cats on the internet… Did he say cute?
As Erling finds himself staring at what looks to be an ad of Jude in nothing but his boxers and his sweet… sweet, glistening skin, he finds himself thinking back to their days in Dortmund together. I mean, it wouldn't be weird if he called up an old friend. That word again. Were they friends? Were they best friends? He thinks so. And I know Jude would think so as well.
But back to Erling's train of thought.
Was he?
I mean, everyone else thought so… From the moment they met, they had just been so drawn to each other. His eyes never left Jude's. His lashes, his nose, his lips, and the way his smile made the blonde man feel. That smile. His smile from that night when Jude had his first taste of alcohol. That night, they went out drinking with his team to celebrate another victory together, Erling by his side, watching over him, making sure he didn't have too much.
That's what ended up happening. With the party dying down after a few hours, Jude's state of mind was anything but clear. Jude was as jolly as could be, stumbling over his words, clinging to Erling as if he was some teddy bear made for him. As if Erling belonged to him…
From clinging to holding to later that night… a drunken confession with a loving makeout session to follow in some random storage pantry. The kissing. The way Erling held him up against the wall as they looked at each other. The way their tongues moved in unison as the friction between them, with Haaland lifting him up and against the wall with Jude's hips, to the way Jude played in his long blonde hair. That feeling was impossible to shake. And to have their bodies together in that way, and the way Jude left small hickeys on Erling's neck, barely visible, it was everything for Erling and nothing at all for Jude.
Why is that?
Well, maybe because he couldn't remember. Or was he acting like it never happened to begin with? Their time together spent passionately grinding—
Erling's phone rings. The name that was displayed on his phone as it rang was "Jude Belling"...
Erling had answered.
Phone call
Erling: Hey Jude, how are you? It's been, eh… um, a long time. Like uh… six months, maybe?
Erling knew the exact date of when they last spoke. He didn't want to admit it.
Jude: Yeah, it's been a bit. I think I saw your story on Instagram in Italy, and I just so happened to be near you 'cause I have this match in like a week. It's the Euro tournament. We could joke around and have fun sometime… if you want.
Erling: Of course, I'd love to, actually. I'll come to you. Honestly, I wouldn't mind. I mean, I'm the one on vacation anyway.
Jude: Great… So, uhh, when do you think you could come…
Erling: Like tomorrow night, maybe? Yeah, sure.
The silence on the phone was almost too loud before Jude broke it with:
Jude: So, did you happen to see my Skims partnership thing…
Erling: Y-yeah, I did, actually… Good stuff.
Jude: Yeah, thanks. So I'll see you tomorrow for like some drinks and stuff. I can hold my liquor way better now, btw… I gotta go now. Team meeting and stuff.
Erling: Alright, bye.
Jude hangs up, sitting at the edge of his bed in this luxurious hotel. His entire team was staying there because it was all paid for until the match was over. Looking out into the city lights, he was deep in thought, contemplating what he had just done.
"Fuck, why’d I do that?"
He stood up and walked closer to the window, looking out.
"I can't believe I did that. I must've been high off the adrenaline or something. Fuck."
*The adrenaline he was referring to was that ad. He's never done anything like that before. It felt so new, and he had to remember that he had to shoot basically naked and stuff. And like, of course he was scared of being perceived badly, but it actually did the opposite, as more and more fans were talking about it in high praise. With all that praise and confidence, it must've gotten to his head, and then he called "Him" of all people. Jude felt like an idiot.*
"Why did I say drinks of all things? Fuck. Fuck me–whoa, pause; now I sound weird. Fuck, I'm talking to myself. Shit."
He sits back down on the bed, shedding all his clothes until it leaves him in just his boxers, getting under his covers, hiding away from the guilt that's been haunting him from that night. That night after that really great win. That really small pantry. That really, really good, really great makeout with him in that dark closet.
"I'm so fucking cooked."
As Jude falls asleep to quiet his mind, Erling, on the other hand, is literally trying to find anything and everything to keep himself from looking at that Skims ad. He looks up photos of him from when he was training or at his most vulnerable.
Erling found it hard to keep his mind off Jude, but he was literally on a yacht, enjoying a peaceful night, drinking wine and eating pizza. What kind of pizza? His favorite. The one topped with that gyro-styled meat he loved so much.
Of all the things he wanted to think about, Jude was the one thing lingering in his mind. His voice. His body. His skin. Those eyes. If Erling kept thinking like that, it wouldn't lead to anything good. Well, good in the sense of being respectful. I mean, who would look at pictures of him basically naked? That's weird.
Then he thought to himself: Is it really that weird? It is just an ad, like normal clothing ads. And to further that, he even decided to go back to Instagram and look up what the people were saying and the edits they made of Jude, which made him look so good. A little too good. So good, in fact, that his mind was going back to that pantry closet. Back to when they were each other's stretching partners. Back to when they had first met, and Jude wouldn't even look at him with those big, round eyes.
Erling's head tilted back, his hair loose and free. He could sense the tension in his shorts becoming unbearable, man-spreading to ignore it, and trying to fight that feeling of wanting to hold him and touch him and fuck him… His heart hurt painfully. So he wanted that bad.
He knew that it was possible. I mean, men can do "it" with men and find pleasure just the same as with women. Erling found it hard to fathom Jude under him, his body shaking—
Before he finished that thought, he had realized he was already thinking of doing those unthinkable things to him. To his Jude.
"I just need another drink," he says to himself in Norwegian.
He heads to the shower to calm his mind. Maybe he'll fall asleep after this. Maybe it'll do him some good. But in fact, it did quite the opposite, leaving his mind wandering and wondering about the things he could do to Jude. What could've happened in that pantry. What it could've led to, which led to almost an hour and a half of him feeding into his own pleasure, chasing his own release while simultaneously picturing doing all types of things to Jude that would almost definitely lead to having some safe word.
Erling never thought he could get like this. Football is his whole life too, but to think being able to play football is what brought them together… He would have to try extra hard to meet him on that pitch again, on similar plain fields.
"What am I even doing right now? Like some fucking teenager."
Erling was walking around in his cabin with just his towel on, fresh steam coming off his body. You could say he calmed himself down one way or another, but still, Jude was on Erling's mind like a residual effect from a fever that has yet to go away completely. It stayed dormant, like it was asleep, and when that fever came back, it would triple the effects. This fever wasn't like any other. It was as if it was a fever that could eat away at your heart before you got the medicine you needed to heal.
Erling slept that night after packing some things to see Jude. And just as the sun was rising, so did Jude, waking up from his slumber. He looked like a faun sleeping in a meadow. A sight to see, truly.
As Jude woke up restless and excited for the night they would reunite, he got up and went to the restroom, looking and critiquing himself the way anyone does, staring into his own reflection. He might've realized he was still bare. His legs and arms and torso had been waxed, his entire body all done up to look his best for that ad. Moreover, his skin was silky smooth to the touch, not rough at all.
He showered that morning, washing and going over every part of his body with care and attention. He had felt as if this was the day they would talk about what had happened that night in the pantry. Jude had been dreading it… the conversation. Not Erling. Never him. His piercing eyes. Never the way he looked into Jude's eyes. The way they looked at each other.
The months after what happened, and before Erling left in the summer of 2022.