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Two things come to Martin’s mind right after he opens his eyes: one, why the fuck is this room so bright and two, why this shit keeps happening to me all the time.
His head is still numb from the painkillers, his vision is blurry, his muscles are aching because of the game, and there’s stickiness on the right side of his head, where he had been bleeding for the majority of the night. Well, you know, the usual stuff. He should start to consider writing a book named What to Expect When You’re Down With a Head Injury: A Guide for Promising Defenders. He has more than enough first-hand knowledge upon the subject anyway, he would make tons of money with that.
“Man, you took your time,” someone says from his left, and even though he cannot see who he is, Martin can fully recognize Vincent from his usual slightly sarcastic, slightly bored voice. “We were this close to leave you here and just go home.”
Martin shut his eyes tighter to avoid the headache that’s been creeping up on him. Vinny’s booming voice and the fluorescents of the medical area aren’t much of a help in this case either.
“Shh… My head is about to explode.”
“That’s what happens when you continue to play with an open wound, idiot.”
“Hey, when did you start being rude towards your elders like that?” Martin asks while he tries to get off of the stretcher to walk around a little, only to regret it halfway and just decides to sit back. “Why are you here, anyway? Don’t you have someone else to bother?”
“Geez, thanks man, it’s so good to know that I’ve been appreciated as a friend and a considerate teammate,” Vinny says. “Your man told me to wait with you till he’s done showering, said he doesn’t want you to wake up all alone.”
“Ohhh…”
“Oh, indeed. You should’ve seen him when you were getting your stitches. One would think that you were in brain surgery. Pfft…” he says with an eye roll. “You two are so sickly in love that it’s horrible for us to watch, really.”
Martin decides not to answer this statement, instead buries his head deep into his pillow to protect his eyes from the fluorescent lights upon them. And, well, also to hide the blush that’s started to form in his neck.
(If Vinny ever dares to walk around telling people stories about how he made the mighty Martin Skrtel blush like a teenager, Martin will definitely blame it on the painkillers. No one can claim otherwise anyway.)
They sit in a comfortable silence after that, Martin’s headache is relatively subdued considering the state he opened his eyes twenty minutes ago. Even though he has no idea why they’re still waiting in the medical area, he doesn’t want to open his mouth and ask Vinny about it. Save for the disgusting, artificially bright lights above him, this place’s comfy enough for him to deal with his pain quietly. Especially since Vinny decided to shut his big mouth to pay attention what he’s been playing on his phone, the stretcher becomes more tempting than ever considering his teammates’ roars and rumbles behind the door.
The serenity of the room is disrupted once the door is opened, their teammates’ voice filling and echoing inside the room. “For god’s sake, what are they celebrating exactly? Our glorious position in the fourth place?” he grumbles.
“Actually, babe, we’re in the second place now. Well, at least till tomorrow, but still,” a familiar voice enlightens him on the matter, sitting next to him after carefully closing the door. “How do you feel? Wanna hug?”
Roman opens his arms for an open invitation, motioning Martin to lean into his embrace. The older man doesn’t act on it first, hesitating for a while. Cuddling in a medical room won’t be the most reckless thing they have ever done while there are staff and management everywhere, but still, Martin wants to be the more grounded side of their relationship.
“Come here, idiot,” his boyfriend says. “Kaptan and İsmail are guarding the door for us, we’re safe for like, half an hour.”
Martin relaxes after that, leans into Roman’s arms quickly. He lets the younger man tuck him into his chest. When he feels Roman’s arms holding him tight enough to make breathing a little bit harder, the numbness on his head is visibly decreased, alongside with his awful mood. Roman has always been a surprisingly great hugger like that.
The more his nostrils are filled with his boyfriend’s vanilla shower gel, the more he starts to feel like himself again. Of course, Roman kissing his stitches through the bandages is a great help in this matter as well.
Martin’s damn comfy in that position; even though he has to bend down to make sure his tiny boyfriend can tuck him under his chin. Just like how it is all the time, their breaths are synchronized in an instant, lulling him slowly into sleep. Of course, once again, the silence around the room is spoiled when Martin’s about to drift away.
“Okay, but… can you explain it to me,” Vinny asks from the bench next to them, while quite loudly munching on some granola bars that Martin has no idea from where he found them in the first place. “Why most of our games are ending with one of you on a stretcher?”
“It’s called nazar, Vincento,” Roman answers to him, then shifts his attention back to Martin who happens to be grumbling next to him. “Why are you still here anyway? You woke the old man up, now he’ll be grumpy.”
“The doc said we shouldn’t let him sleep tonight as a precaution,” Vinny says like it’s nothing. “What’s nazar?”
“Wake up babe, looks like we’re in for a long night,” he nudges Martin to wake him up properly. Then, he turns back to scold Vinny a little. “You’re the most incompetent nurse ever, you know that right? You should say this before.”
“I thought you already knew the trick, you two are the masters of head injuries, after all. Next time, just go and ask Bobby to babysit your hubby, I can’t deal with you being all mushy and domestic in front of me again.”
With that response, Roman and Vinny start their daily bickering again. Even though Martin loves to just sit back and watch them like this in a usual day, today he feels like he has to intervene in order to protect his brain from turning into jelly.
“Babe, c’mon,” Martin whines to catch his boyfriend’s attention, and when he fails in succeeding that, he grabs Roman’s hand instead. “Just let it go, my head is hurting.”
Both Roman and Vinny shut their mouths that moment, apparently remembering that they’re actually in the medical area and there’s a reason why they’re sitting here instead of somewhere else. The other defender guides Martin’s head back to where it was before Vinny disrupted their moment, but this time Roman is careful enough to not let Martin go back to sleep.
“Nazar means the evil eye, Vincento,” he says after a while, answering Vinny’s question from before and waking Martin up for the fourth time in the last ten minutes at the same time. “Apparently we all have it, cause no matter how many games we’ve won, we’re still stuck in the fourth place anyway.”
“I thought we were in the second place now?” Martin asks without raising his head.
“Well, don’t get used to it. The other ones, the demons, will play their games tonight.”
They sit like that for a little while, talking about random things to make sure that Martin stays awake. The voices from the other side of the room don’t resemble to a party but an actual locker room instead. Roman thinks that they probably should leave in a few minutes to make sure that they catch the team bus, otherwise they’ll be in so much trouble. Plus, Martin still has to shower and change his clothes despite the layers of bandages wrapped around his head.
Someone else is probably sharing his thought in that moment, because five seconds after Roman thinks that, the door is knocked and then, quietly opened. Thankfully, it’s their captain and İsmail.
“Sorry to bother you guys,” İsmail says. “But we have to leave in twenty minutes.”
Vincent gets up right after hearing that, already halfway through the door when he turns back to Roman and Martin. “Just go to the showers, don’t do any kinky stuff there, and I’ll collect your stuff and put them on your seats.”
Roman throws him one of his slippers after that, while yelling at Vincent something about being disrespectful towards his elders. Vinny only responds him with a “You’re welcome, assholes!”
“Can you please explain to me, love,” Roman asks to his fellow defender beside him. “Why did we have to have kids? He’s a nightmare.”
***
On the way back to their training grounds, Roman nudges Martin for probably the eighteenth time that day. After he catches his attention, he doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, Roman places his hand over Martin’s bandages, careful not to put too much pressure on his wound.
“Don’t do stupid things like that again, asshole,” Roman mumbles in Russian after a few minutes of silence and gazing lovingly at each other’s eyes. “Every time some bastard puts you down, I lose five years from my life span. What’s your purpose, are you trying to make me old as well so that I can no longer call you dedushka?”
“You know that I’m not doing this on purpose, right, love?”
“Still, I love your big, stupid head too much. You bleeding next to me during a whole second half is definitely not something I want to relive.”
“Awwww, babe,” Martin coos over exaggeratedly. “I love your big, stupid head too much, too.”
Roman quickly scans their surroundings, makes sure that no one from their staff actually paying attention to them, and just leans in a little to kiss Martin. Even though it starts as an innocent peck, they get carried away as usual. It’s Giuliano who lets them know about the upcoming threat, also known as their coach, with a loud, but clearly fake cough.
They draw apart in that moment, and dodge the bullet with only seconds. Their coach passes by them and sits next to Mathieu, and they start to talk about tactical stuff.
“So,” Martin whispers to Roman when their coach goes back to his own seat. “I guess this week it’s Giuliano who we should take out on a dinner, right?”
“Yep, also İsmail and Kaptan. And Vinny, too. Even though he’s an asshole.”