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“Come on, Ness. We’re leaving.”
Instead of falling into line like an obedient lapdog, the midfielder stayed seated.
“Ness.”
He blinked blearily at him, clutching the pint glass close to his chest. “But I haven't even finished yet.”
Kaiser eyed the drink. It was nearly empty, meaning Ness was more than drunk.
He went to take another sip when Kaiser plucked it from his hands, holding it above his head.
“Hey, give that back!” Ness reached for the glass but couldn’t grab it.
It seemed that in the midst of his intoxication, he forgot he was taller than Kaiser and could easily reach it if he tried. Instead, he stayed seated on his bar stool, reaching uselessly for something out of his grasp.
Kaiser signaled for the bartender and passed her the pint. “Pour this out.”
Ness made a final swipe at the pint, his stool tipping him towards the bar. A seasoned Ness-caretaker by now, Kaiser dropped his foot on the rung on the back rung, steadying him with a thunk. The movement would’ve sent him tumbling backwards, but Kaiser already had a hand on his spine to keep him upright. “Close his tab too.”
He could practically feel the starry-eyed look Ness was giving him right then.
He sighed. “What is it?”
“You saved me!” Ness beamed.
From a bruised chin, maybe.
“You can thank me later,” Kaiser said dismissively.
Ness grabbed his hand in his. “I’ll thank you now!” His eyes were bright, his expression pure gratitude.
Kaiser managed to free himself just as the bartender was coming back, Ness pouting at his newly-empty grip. He paid the check and helped Ness to his feet.
Getting Ness into the passenger side was no easy feat, but Kaiser was used to all the flailing limbs and grabby hands. Unfortunately, he was also used to Ness’s attention span, and how the other would change the radio and sing to whatever was playing.
Sober Ness wouldn’t dare. Sober Ness has never even touched the radio and only hums quietly every once in a while.
Once in the secluded parking garage, Kaiser unbuckled them both and went to Ness’s side to help him out. The midfielder was examining his hands carefully, head rocking slightly as he sang the last song that was on the radio.
Kaiser opened the door, startling him, and helped him out. He had a hand covering the ceiling of the car, which came into use as Ness bumped his head.
Ness looked puzzled as he realized his head didn’t hurt. Kaiser’s hand, however, did.
“Fucking thick-headed,” he muttered, shaking his stinging hand out.
“Sorry,” Ness mumbled, voice quiet.
Kaiser sighed. “It’s fine, stop being mopey.”
He did not stop being mopey. After a few moments of Ness trailing him like a sad puppy, Kaiser finally turned and shoved his hand at the other.
“See? It’s fine.”
Ness stared at his hand for a moment, gingerly taking it in his as he scrutinized it, thumb rubbing over the faint pink mark on the back of his hand.
Then Ness did the unthinkable and kissed the bruised skin.
Kaiser jerked back, his aching skin branded. “What the hell?”
“I kissed it to make it feel better,” he smiled. “It’s magic!”
It was not magic, it was pervasive. That’s why the touch burned and why Kaiser could still feel Ness’s soft lips graze his flesh.
He steered them to the elevator so they could finally head inside. Thankfully, Ness always waited to get back to the safety of their apartment before jumping him.
As soon as the door shut, Ness was on him, plastering himself to his back and nuzzling his neck.
“At least let me lock it,” he grumbled.
Ness pulled back a miniscule amount before crushing him in his arms once more.
“Ness.”
“Kaiser!” the other chirped, squeezing him.
Kaiser allowed it, exhaling around the touch.
He wrangled himself free back long enough to remove his shoes—Ness having kicked his off as soon as he walked in—and then his counterpart was taking his hand and dragging him to his room.
Kaiser let Ness push him down on the mattress, his midfielder climbing next to him and tangling his body with his. Their legs slid together, bodies separate until Ness’s chest pressed into his shoulder.
“Ness.”
Ness hummed, pale fingertips tracing over his cheeks, his jaw, the whirl of his tattoo. The touch was light and airy, and magenta eyes revealed a delicate sheen to them. It was time for Kaiser’s favorite part of the night.
Lips parted, mouth only a little dry, Kaiser whispered, “Lex?”
The result was instantaneous. Magenta eyes went wide, pink flushed his cheeks, and a wide smile broke out onto his face.
“Micha,” the other breathed.
Kaiser’s face heated, and Ness looked awestruck, fingers chasing the warmth on his cheeks.
They traced his jaw, his temples, his lips, the curve of his under-eye tattoos—until every last cell of his face had been mapped out by the midfielder’s curious hands, only to do it all over again.
By the time that touch grew clumsy, Ness was nearly asleep, eyes stubbornly snapping open to keep watching him.
“Ness.”
A weak, yet disapproving grunt.
“Lexi.”
Ness melted, going all sticky-sweet. He held his hand between the two of them, expectant, and Kaiser wordlessly intertwined their fingers together. Ness’s face flushed once more, and squeezed his hand.
“Goodnight Micha.”
They fell asleep in outside clothes. When morning comes, Kaiser would slip out of bed and leave a slumbering Ness behind.
Kaiser had been taking care of drunk Ness for a few years now.
It started when he came home, red-faced and intoxicated, and Kaiser had tensed.
His Ness was docile, but Kaiser knew better than anyone how alcohol could cause a change. But no change occurred. Ness was affectionate and bubbly, trying to get Kaiser’s attention every few minutes and rambled on about magic and fairytales until he finally collapsed on Kaiser’s shoulder and nuzzled into his neck.
Kaiser still remembered how he froze. How Ness pressed his skin against Kaiser’s throat in an action of affection rather than violence.
Kaiser remembered how he cried, and how Ness crouched on wobbly knees and clumsily wiped his tears.
Kaiser remembered how Ness held him, muttering sweet words and praises that he greedily lapped up with a parched tongue.
Ness, however, didn’t remember a thing.
And so a routine was born.
Ness’s words were too obedient in the day, too refined. But at night, when alcohol spilled past lips and eyes became glossy, Alexis’s praise was buoyant and candid. Reservations died down, leaving only sweetness. Sweet Ness, really.
He loved to love, and if Kaiser was there to soak up the spillage, well, who’d know otherwise?
Ness was drunk again.
“How are you a soccer player with all this booze in you? You should’ve taken up swimming if you wanted to breathe ‘water’ so badly.”
Kaiser squeezed Ness’s rosy cheeks, making him squirm.
“Micha,” he whined.
He relented, letting go to sit back on the couch. Ness tucked into his side, all petulant and endearing.
This time, they were already at their apartment, watching a game. Ness had gotten a new wine from a sponsor and asked if he’d like to share. Kaiser declined as always, but he appreciated the gesture. Now, the match had come to an end—Re Al won as usual—and Ness was drunk off his ass.
Ness suddenly stood, and Kaiser watched in curiosity as he stumbled to the kitchen for the wine bottle.
“Knock it off. You can barely walk.”
Ness grumbled, hobbling to the counter even faster. It faintly reminded Kaiser of dogs chewing faster when their owners noticed they were eating something they shouldn’t.
Kaiser made it to the bottle as soon as Ness did, placing a hand on the neck to keep it flat on the counter.
Ness struggled to lift it. “Hey, let go.”
“You let go.”
Ness pouted, “It’s my gift.”
Magenta eyes look big and sad, and Kaiser just wanted to pinch those rosy cheeks again to see how deeply they could bloom.
He sighed, “Fine.”
As soon as he removed his hand, Ness leaned too far forward, knocking the bottle off the counter. Miraculously, Kaiser managed to pluck it up mid-air, only spilling a few drops.
Ness looked at him with starry eyes and a slack jaw. “You’re incredible.”
“And you’re a menace.”
He deposited the bottle on the counter closest to the wall, then tossed Ness over his shoulder.
“Micha!” he yelped.
“Lex,” he answered.
He set the squirming midfielder down on the couch, squishing him against the armrest with his body so he couldn’t move.
The aggressive cuddling worked for a few minutes. They watched TV quietly, Ness’s restlessness dimming as they sat. Kaiser’s side was pressed up against his midfielder, and he was able to leech warmth from him.
Of course that didn’t last.
Suddenly Ness was all wriggly, trying to get comfortable, so Kaiser draped him across his lap. Ness seemed a bit disoriented by the sudden change, blinking dumbly, and cheeks pinking.
What a ridiculous person. His spell of choice must be inebriation, with how he liked to drink until he couldn’t see which way was up.
Meanwhile he could’ve gotten hurt earlier. What if Kaiser wasn’t here, and Ness had dropped the bottle?
The mental image of Ness treading on broken glass, feet aching but unsure why cut something deep between his ribs.
Kaiser held Ness to his chest, squeezing him tightly. His midfielder’s temple brushed his shoulder. His legs, compacted muscle, rested heavily on his thighs. They had several points of contact, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
He maneuvered Ness so they could both lay down, him laying on his chest. Ness tried to shift to the side, but Kaiser held him still. He needed Ness directly on top of him, skin touching skin and his midfielder’s weight crushing him until he couldn’t breathe.
“Micha?”
“Lexi,” he wheezed.
Ness tried to move again.
“Stay still,” Kaiser hissed.
Ness squirmed, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Kaiser froze long enough for Ness to wriggle into the small space between him and the couch, letting his lungs fill with air. Ness watched him quietly, limbs still draped across him, touching Kaiser just enough for the shock he underwent.
“You wouldn’t, would you?” he asked quietly.
The midfielder let out a curious, “Hm?”
“Hurt me.”
A beat while Ness’s brain loaded, and then he was shaking his head furiously.
“No. Never.”
Something in Kaiser's chest squeezed painfully, and he stroked Ness’s hair to muffle it.
“Good boy.”
Ness practically purred at that. He buried his face in his neck, hugging Kaiser tighter.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Ness asked again.
Kaiser tried harder to shove him out the door. “Yes, now get out.”
Ness barely moved—seriously just how strong was this twink?—, sticking himself further inside.
“Don’t forget to hydrate and go to bed early. I made dinner already and you’ll just have to heat it up—”
“I know how to cook, damn it!” He didn’t. “Go or you’ll be late.”
“Okay, okay. Bye!” Ness finally left.
Kaiser was always torn when it came to team happy hour. He had no interest in drinking of course—it set back his soccer training, hurt his liver, and was an expensive way to reduce his mind to mush—but Ness liked it, and as captain, he showed up to every outing.
While Ness usually pushed and pleaded and begged for Kaiser to come to events until he caved, he always left drinking alone. He never told the midfielder about his dad, so Ness must’ve had his own theories about why, and Kaiser was content leaving him out of it.
On the bright side, every time Sachs or Gesner pushed for a group happy hour, Kaiser got to pick up an inebriated Ness, so everyone won.
It must’ve been an hour since Ness left. Kaiser figured out how to reheat his food, now eating dinner that alternated between scalding and frozen, but was too stubborn to fix it.
His phone buzzed with a notification.
Gesner started a private stream.
Shrugging, Kaiser clicked it. There weren’t a lot of people who got to know about his private account, so the livestream wouldn’t be too popular anyway.
Gesner’s far too close face filled the screen and Kaiser blanched.
“Welcome to the stream! Just a quick catch-up, Grim here—” the camera turned to Grim who waved “—thinks he can beat me at pool.”
“I can.”
“When I’m drunk, maybe.”
“He can beat you sober too!” someone jeered, and Gesner flipped them off.
They started setting up the game, phone resting on a bar stool. The angle wasn’t great, and Kaiser was already growing bored. He was about to leave the stream when he caught a glimpse of magenta.
In the background, Ness was sitting at the bar. He talked excitedly to teammates, heart on his sleeve as ever. He looked animated, but not quite as animated as he did when he was with Kaiser.
Kaiser wasn’t sure how long he stared, but by the time Yoichi and his friends came by, Gesner and Grim were nearly done, the former shrieking in despair.
Yoichi caught Ness’s attention and they began bickering. The two never got along even after Blue Lock ended and he joined the team. By now, Kaiser and Yoichi had a begrudging respect for each other. They’d never truly get along, nor pass to each other, but they were amicable at times. The same could not be said for Yoichi and Ness.
Ness breathed vitriol like air to Yoichi, who only responded in kind. They didn’t let it get in the way of playing, so Kaiser felt no reason to intervene. That, and Ness hovered around him more after these fights, circling him like a hummingbird to a flower.
“He totally cheated!” Gesner cried, blocking Kaiser’s view as he moved in front of the camera.
“How?” Grim retorted from somewhere off-screen.
“Sore loser!” someone called, causing a round of jeers.
Gesner went to argue some more, abandoning his phone. The view cleared, Kaiser noticed several full pint glasses in front of Ness and Yoichi.
There were a few teammates standing around, watching with interest. Yukimiya said something to them both, and they each raised a pint, waiting.
Kaiser frowned as he realized he may have to pick up Ness a lot sooner than he thought.
Yukimiya flagged his fingers down, and the drinking contest began. Ness downed one in seconds, the next following quickly.
Kaiser blinked.
Yoichi stared at Ness in horror and began to chug faster as the midfielder finished his third pint. The blunette made it halfway through his second one before stopping, looking green. Ness laughed at him, and Yoichi flipped him off.
Off-screen, “Shit, did we miss a challenge?”
The camera bounced as Gesner carried it over to Ness. He looked smug as Kurona rubbed Yoichi’s back, clearly fighting demons.
Gesner put an arm around him, pulling them both into frame. “How’s our reigning champ doing?”
“Still on top!” he beamed.
Ness looked sober. Almost entirely sober.
Something churned in Kaiser’s stomach.
Ness took a swig of Yoichi’s untouched beer.
“Hey, Kaiser’s on the stream too!”
Ness spat out his drink on Yoichi who shrieked. He stared at the screen in horror, face paling.
Gesner nudged him, “You good?”
“Yeah, it just went down the wrong pipe.” Ness smiled shakily and waved, “Hi Kaiser.”
Kaiser left the stream.
Silence.
He stared at the blank screen, the notification for the stream flickering mockingly. Opening Ness’s contact, he typed, Find your own way back. Then muted him.
Ness came back twenty minutes later. Since the bar was twenty-five minutes away and Ness didn’t have a car, Kaiser had to admit that was rather impressive.
Ness was tense, avoiding eye contact, so Kaiser settled for drilling his eyes into the side of his head.
“Kaiser,” he began.
“No ‘Micha’?” He asked dryly.
Ness’s face flushed. “I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“How good is your tolerance?”
“It takes a lot. My parents—” his hands tightened around his arms “—wanted to make sure their protégés would be immune to anything they could work with in the lab. So I have a resistance to most poisons, toxins, and viruses.”
That…sounded like torture.
It also explained Ness’s strict vaccination schedule once a year and him skipping over-the-counter medications and going straight for heavy-strength prescriptions when he was ill.
Kaiser could already feel this realization sober him, betrayal simmering instead of bubbling over.
Pity made him soft, so Kaiser went with rage.
“You lied to me,” he snapped. “There’s nothing more to it.”
Ness shifted, eyes hazy but not as hazy as they should be.
“I really was drunk the first time,” he protested weakly, like he knew it was a lost cause.
“You said you didn’t remember.”
“I did eventually, and even then I thought it was a dream.”
Kaiser’s blood went cold. Ness knew. He knew. He saw Kaiser shake and cry and fall into pieces and worse, he decided to do it again.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Kaiser snarled so viciously Ness took a step back.
“Wha—”
“You kept getting drunk to mess with me, didn’t you? You saw what happened and you needed to do it again. You needed me weak.”
Ness looked horrified, pupils small. “No! I swear it wasn’t because of that. I just—I wanted to see if it was real!” His eyes softened slightly, “And you were so sweet to me when you thought I wouldn’t remember.”
“So it’s my fault?!” Kaiser hissed.
“Only because you acted so nice to me!” Ness cried.
“Only because you acted like a moron!” Kaiser shot back.
They went quiet. Kaiser kept his gaze trained on the wall, fists clenched. He knew himself enough to know he’d fold for a pitiful Ness. One look at the other could make Kaiser crumble, and he needed to focus on this betrayal.
“I’m sorry I lied,” Ness apologized. “It was wrong. I shouldn’t have made you put up with that.” He curled inward, “It just felt so nice to be taken care of for once.”
The admission, while unintentional, was a jab at Kaiser’s dependence on Ness.
“You don’t have to look after me,” he spat.
“I like taking care of you!” Magenta eyes were wide and pleading.
“It doesn’t sound like it,” he hissed. “If the only reason you need to be taken care of is because you act pathetic, then you’ll get a crowd of volunteers.”
Ness trembled. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
With him near tears, the old Kaiser probably would’ve considered this a victory. The current him, however, could only think about how much better the midfielder looked when he smiled. Kaiser was suddenly, thoroughly and inexplicably, exhausted. Before him, Ness continued to shake.
“You let me get away with so much when you think I won’t remember,” he confessed.
“I’m not arguing with a drunkard,” Kaiser retorted, tired.
“I’m sorry, it made things easier. I even thought you liked having me around.”
His head drooped, tears brimming his eyes.
“Can’t you like me when I’m sober too?” Ness whispered.
Oh.
Kaiser swallowed, his throat dry. He was startlingly awake now and felt ashamed.
Ness wrapped his arms around himself, making himself even smaller. Tears fell down his face, and Kaiser was amazed that he, too, was a silent crier just like him. Someone who didn’t cry for attention, but who was overwhelmingly sad with nowhere for it to go.
The fight left Kaiser’s body, nothing but smoldering embers remaining. He couldn’t fault Ness, not when Kaiser had always strived to be loved too.
“I do…like you,” Kaiser admitted quietly.
Ness shook his head, “You don’t act like it.”
He turned, the back of his hand wiping his eyes. Kaiser shifted in place, unsure. It was hard for Kaiser to be vulnerable the same way it was hard for Ness to be disagreeable.
That was the real issue that led to this path—the fear of rejection. The fear that if they showed their most authentic selves—clingy, loud, affectionate—it would be rejected. The problem wouldn’t be others, it would be themselves.
Kaiser didn’t feel fear often anymore, but he did feel regret, and he’d hate to feel any more of it.
He took a breath.
“I like when you sing in the car,” he confessed, Ness glancing at him. “You look happy.”
He blinked, mouth parting in surprise.
Ness played with his fingers. “I am happy.”
“Good.”
Silence stretched between them, long and taut. It stretched and stretched, until—
“I like when you look out for me,” Ness said. “Like making sure I get home safe.”
Something rose in Kaiser’s chest, and he tamped it down.
“I like how stubborn you can get,” he admitted. “It’s cute.”
Too far, Kaiser cursed.
Ness’s face pinkened and Kaiser decided it was just enough.
“I like when you call me nicknames,” Ness said.
“Lexi.”
His blush deepened.
“I like when you get assertive.”
“I like when you hold me,” Ness said.
“I like when you hold me,” Kaiser countered.
They laughed quietly, their smiles encouraging the other. Ness’s eyes looked a little glossier than before, like it was finally hitting him, and Kaiser wondered just how much it took Ness to get blackout drunk like the first time. Speaking of drinking…
“If you weren’t drunk, did you knock that wine bottle over on purpose?” Ness’s coordination was nothing to sneeze at, so he doubted there was truly any risk.
Ness turned red. “It tasted terrible.”
Kaiser laughed.
He shuffled, suddenly looking shy, “That, and…I figured you’d comfort me if I looked sad.”
Kaiser’s chest squeezed.
“I would—I will,” he amended. “If you get sad, I’ll comfort you.”
Ness beamed. If this was a normal night, Ness would already be in his arms by now, humming against his collarbone as Kaiser stroked his hair. But it wasn’t normal—in fact, that situation had never been normal, strung together by lies and half-truths.
But there was time to make a new normal.
Kaiser opened his arms and over Ness came.
He was a bit hesitant, but Kaiser squeezed him tight, cupping the back of his neck in the way he knew Ness liked. In turn, he wrapped his arms around Kaiser, warming his back.
“Micha?”
He pulled back from the hug, startling when Ness kissed him.
Kaiser’s eyes went wide, and he cupped his cheek as he deepened the kiss. Ness smiled against his lips, and he melted a bit.
When they parted, Ness leaned into Kaiser’s hand, expression soft but pleased. Kaiser carefully wiped off any remnants of tears on his face.
“I really liked that,” Ness breathed.
“Me too,” Kaiser agreed, before leaning in for another.
He couldn’t wait to find out what else they liked together.