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After the initial ‘holy shit, I can’t believe we won’ wears off, the various members of Bastard Munchen are not super sure what to expect when they head into the locker room after the Ubers game. They’re certainly excited, even after Noa spent a good 20 minutes droning about their ‘logical plays’ in a painfully monotone debrief. Most of them are too riled up to listen much, practically vibrating where they sit. The day after a win means no group practice, and, more importantly, dessert! Ego never lets them have dessert! When the only chocolate you ever get to have is from protein shakes, the thought of a Hershey’s kiss is inspiring.
When Noa realizes no one is paying attention to him, he dismisses them with a sigh, heading off to subtly make fun of Snuffy during the coach’s meeting. Noa never talks about what happens behind those closed doors, so the German team has to steal tiny pieces of information from other players.
“Good game, Isagi,” Kunigami slaps his back after his shower, the first one to break the silence. After making up with Chigiri, Kunigami had quickly slotted his way back into their usual group of four. It makes Hiori and Kurona specifically a little jealous, to be honest. “I’m gonna head over to Manshine City, wanna come?”
“No, it’s ok,” Isagi beams up at Kunigami, sipping from his water bottle. “Thanks, though! Tell Chigiri I said that his goal was awesome!”
“Alright,” Kunigami agrees, shooting Ness a wary glance where he’s talking quietly with Kaiser in the corner. He really does want to see Chigiri, but if Isagi is about to get killed by either his own boyfriend or said boyfriend’s pet midfielder, Kunigami would stay. “Just uh…text me if you change your mind.”
“Sure,” Isagi shoots him a thumbs up and a genuine smile. “Have fun!”
Once Kunigami braves the first conversation, the air finally clears up. It’s the first time Kaiser has actually lost, making the tension thicker than usual. In a normal circumstance, Kaiser and Isagi were usually already arguing or making out in a secluded area of the locker room. Instead, Kaiser had stomped off to a different part of the room, taking out his ear piece, throwing it onto the ground, and speaking in rapid-fire German to his U20 teammates. Isagi remained with Hiori and Gagamaru, still talking excitedly about the game. The entire German half of their team is on edge, and Isagi is either unaware of it, or completely ignoring it. With the looks they’re shooting him, frankly, the original Blue Lock players are ready to start a GoFund Me for Isagi’s preemptive funeral funds.
“I’m going to be watching a movie in the common room with Otoya and Karasu,” Yukimiya even feels like he should offer help, peeking over at the rest of the German squad trepidatiously. He’s so mad at Isagi, he could strangle him, but he prefers when Blue Lock players do better than the professional ones. Plus, Otoya and Karasu think Isagi is funny. “So feel free to stop by.”
“Yeah, Isagi!” Hiori adds in, ruffling his hair. Kaiser slams his hand so hard into a locker, it dents, and their German teammates scoff at it. Isagi looks unbothered. “You can hang out with me and Kurona, if you want!”
“I’m ok, but thanks guys. I’m pretty tired, so I’ll probably head to my room,” Isagi laughs sheepishly, grabbing the back of his neck. “We can hang out tomorrow!”
“Ok,” Kurona agrees, squinting at him. He bites his lip, and raises an eyebrow, nervously looking back at Kaiser, and then to Isagi again. “Ok?”
“Definitely,” Isagi squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “Are you coming, or are you going to stare at me all night?” Isagi shoots towards where Kaiser is still arguing with Ness.
Kaiser grumbles something and rolls his eyes, not bothering to look up. “I am obviously not done talking. You can wait for me, if you’re desperate.”
“You’re so fucking annoying,” Isagi mutters under his breath. “I’m getting my phone from Ego.”
“I’m using it to post on Instagram tomorrow,” Kaiser calls after him. “If you solve the Wordle without me, I’ll break your shins.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Isagi snaps. He stretches his arms above his head as he exits the room, and his teammates stare in awe. Nothing’s changed? They were fine? What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” Raichi says out loud, nose scrunching up. “Weird.”
“Yeah,” Gagamaru agrees, pulling his hair back away from his eyes. “I’m going to eat my cake in the cafeteria. Do you guys want to come
“I’ll come,” Igarashi jumps next to him, sweatshirt half-pulled over his head. “See you later, Raichi. Have fun with Ness!”
“Kill yourself,” Raichi mutters, looking at where Ness is gesturing wildly at Kaiser, who scowls and stares up at the cieling. “Whatever. I’ll come with you. It looks like they’re going to take for-fucking-ever.”
“I’ll be right there!” Ness calls after Raichi apologetically, tone changing immediately back to scalding in a particularly annoyed whisper to Kaiser. Ness shakes his head and grabs his bag, running after the three of them to catch up.
“Is uh…everything ok?” Raichi asks, clearing his throat and clenching his hands at his sides. Ness grabs Raichi’s hand without asking, and Raichi purses his lips. “He’s not gonna poison Isagi in his sleep or something, is he?” Raichi asks slowly.
“No,” Ness huffs out a laugh. “He might kill Itoshi Sae. I might kill Snuffy. That’s really it.”
“I figured you’d be angry,” Gagamaru adds in as they walk towards the desserts laid out on the main table.
“Sure, we are,” Ness shrugs, peering over to check out what they have. The four of them put their stuff down on a nearby bench and start grabbing some celebration cake. “I mean, aren’t you both angry? Neither of you get to play your actual position.” Raichi and Gagamaru pause, contemplative.
“Huh,” Gagamaru emotes – he accepts a slap on the back from Yukimiya on the way. “I guess so. It’s kind of fun stopping goals, though.”
“Well, I still want to fucking score,” Raichi mutters, following behind Ness. “What’d you guys talk about back there, anyway?”
“Hm? Oh,” Ness grabs his and Raichi’s plate without hesitating, and Raichi grabs them both drinks. Gagamaru yawns, unbothered by whatever weird relationship they had developed, fumbling for his own food. “I told him if he was going to sit around and get curbed by a below-average defender, I’d pass to Isagi instead.”
“Babe,” Raichi chokes out, almost tipping their cups over. His face heats up red. “Oh my god.”
“That’s pretty cool, Ness!” Igarashi pipes in, jabbing Raichi in the side.
“That’s fucking hot, is what it is,” Raichi mutters to himself, unable to keep his voice from cracking.
“Thank you!” Ness smiles, cheeks dimpling. “That’s very sweet.”
“Get a room,” Igarashi mutters. “Actually? I’m going to my room. I can’t take this.”
“Have a blast, benchwarmer,” Raichi takes a bite out of his cake. “Some of us have sexy things to do.”
—
When Kaiser actually gets to their dorm, Isagi is lying on his back on the bed, squinting at his phone.
“Did you solve it?” Kaiser asks immediately. His voice doesn’t sound different than usual. Honestly, he's shocking himself with how normal he feels. “I swear to God, I’ll kill you-”
“No, I just guessed the first word we always do, asshole,” Isagi mutters, rolling his eyes. “It’s not beans.”
“It’s never beans. That’s a stupid first guess,” Kaiser says for the millionth time. He pauses a second at the foot of the bed, considering his options; Isagi stops what he’s doing to peer over his phone, head cocked to the side in an unspoken question. Nodding to himself, Kaiser slaps Isagi’s phone right out of his hands onto the ground.
Isagi shouts indignantly, moving to sit up and hit him back, “Hey-!” he growls, turning into a yelp when Kaiser grabs the front of his shirt and smashes their mouths together hard enough to draw blood.
“You’re such a fucking dick,” Kaiser hisses against his lips, swinging his legs over and straddling him, dragging him up against the pillows. “You’re so fucking hot. I hate you so much.”
“You weren’t hnn…weren’t watching your back,” Isagi snarls, grabbing at the sheets for some semblance of control. Kaiser snorts against Isagi’s neck, biting down hard enough to leave indents of his teeth as he grinds down against Isagi’s hardening dick. He would be so pissed about that later, but it’s totally worth it.
“Getting distracted by some fucking defender. You should know better than to take your eyes off of me,” Isagi licks his lips hungrily, shiny with spit. Kaiser sits back to admire the view, hating the way he feels stable. He cannot remember a single time in his goddamn life where losing hadn’t made him want to drive an expensive car into a brick wall, and he can kind of feel that familiar buzz under his skin; it’s drowned out by the heat of breathing heavily against Isagi’s mouth, fist still clenched in his white t-shirt.
“What’re you gonna do about it? Bitch and moan? I thought you wanted a challenge-” Isagi goads, staring up at Kaiser defiantly, pupils wide and chest moving up and down, ragged. Where they’re touching tethers Kaiser away from his mania.
“You’ll never fucking score again,” Kaiser says flippantly as an answer, twisting roughly at Isagi’s nipple through his t-shirt. He barely holds back a squeak, grabbing Kaiser’s wrist in an attempt to stop him. “I’m going to make practice hell for you. When I get your ranking down to zero, I’ll fuck you so hard into this mattress, you won’t be able to sit down for weeks.”
Isagi shoves at Kaiser’s forehead, twisting underneath him for some kind of leverage. “What if I get bored before that?” Isagi answers breathlessly. “What’re you gonna do then, Michael? What if I get an offer from France or Barcelona?”
“If you even look at someone else, I’ll kill you,” he spits, palming roughly at Isagi’s dick through his shorts. Isagi stiffens, biting his bottom lip, lit-up eyes matching Kaiser’s own.
“Worried?” Isagi’s breathy voice answers, hips attempting to buck up, but stuck under Kaiser’s weight. “Better earn my attention, then. Remember what you told me, be a real challenge.”
“I can’t wait to ruin your life,” Kaiser laughs sardonically, biting Isagi’s bottom lip and dragging it back. “I hate you. I hate you so much. You make me sick.” Kaiser pushes himself up onto his thighs, pulling Isagi back roughly so he’s pressed against the headboard. Without hesitating, he drags Isagi forward onto his lap.
Isagi groans when their erections touch through cloth, leaning his forehead against Kaiser’s collarbone and scrambling for purchase. Kaiser doesn’t even bother fully taking off Isagi’s shorts and boxers. He just moves them down enough so he can pull out his boyfriend's cock and fit his dick into where Isagi's thighs press together. Kaiser grabs blindly for the lube they keep in their bedside dresser drawer, and takes his own cock out, pumping it twice.
The lube might be overkill, in all honesty. Kaiser is dripping at the tip, leaking pre all over himself. His boxers bunch uncomfortably at his upper legs, but he’s too desperate to slide himself into the tight heat of Isagi’s thighs. He can’t be slowed down for a second to strip completely.
Isagi takes advantage of Kaiser’s fumbling, roughly stretching the neck of Kaiser’s shirt to the side, leaving dark purple marks wherever his mouth can reach. “Fuck,” Isagi groans, thighs flexing to try and squirm. “Fuck, hurry up.”
“You’ll get what I decide you get when I’m ready,” Kaiser bites down hard on Isagi’s shoulder, and he arches up, scratching red marks into Kaiser’s back. He finally, blissfully fits his dick in between Isagi’s legs, sliding deliciously against Isagi's boner when he’s fully buried. The brush against his cock has Isagi letting out an open-mouthed moan, clawing so hard at Kaiser’s shirt, he swears he hears it rip.
“Shit,” Kaiser hisses, and he slides his hips up again, toes curling with the slide. God damn Isagi Yoichi. His body should be illegal – how does someone’s thighs feel so fucking good? “You’re so hot,” Kaiser says again, hysterical. “I never should have met you. You're terrible. You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me.”
“Shut up,” Isagi hiccups, hands shaking against Kaiser’s shoulders, grinding down to get more friction against himself. “Shit, come on-”
Kaiser snarls at him, dragging Isagi to sit still on his lap. “What did I fucking say about getting what I say you can get?” Kaiser growls, tugging roughly at his hair.
“You’re awful,” Isagi keens, dick twitching and bottom lip bleeding slightly where it’s been split open by their initial kiss. Kaiser bites hard at Isagi’s neck, reveling in the way it draws out a twisted yelp. In response, Isagi squeezes the top of Kaiser’s biceps so hard, it’ll definitely bruise. His eyes spin in tunnel vision, in the way that Kaiser knows from the field – crazy, Isagi is so crazy and sick and twisted, and it’s perfect.
“You were born for me. I have never wanted anything like how I want you,” Kaiser tugs Isagi’s hair to pull his head to the side, sucking as many bruises as he can against his tan skin. “I am going to own you. You're never leaving. I'll have you until you fucking die,” His thrusts become erratic as he talks, grabbing Isagi by the cheeks to force his gaze forward. Isagi’s eyes are wide and glassy – as they should be, he should always look at Michael like he's the only person in the world – what else is there to look at?
Isagi blinks up at him with unshed tears, still managing to look defiant, squeezing his thighs together to watch Kaiser jerk pathetically at the increased pressure. He palms the head of Isagi’s weeping cock, a little cruel, and Isagi cries out, eyes finally leaking onto his flushed cheeks. Kaiser doesn’t last long after that – he never does when Isagi starts crying. He finishes all over the top of Isagi’s legs and onto his lower stomach, leaving his boyfriend's dick still red and hard, shifting desperately against Kaiser’s lap. “Beg for it,” Kaiser commands him breathlessly.
“Fuck you,” Isagi shudders when Kaiser holds his wrists in a death vice with one of his hands, eyebrows raised.
“I’ll stay here all night,” Kaiser answers casually, wiping at one of Isagi’s tears with his thumb and licking off the salt. “I’ll never let you get soft. Just work you to the edge over and over.” For show, Kaiser trails his free pointer finger lightly up the underside of Isagi’s dick, catching Isagi’s open-mouthed moan in a kiss. He wraps a loose grip around Isagi’s shaft, separating from his mouth just to watch Isagi drool.
“Hm?” Kaiser coos, condescending, tightening his hand over Isagi’s weeping head. “What do you think, sweetheart?”
“Michael,” Isagi snaps, still fighting, jerking underneath him.
“Close,” Kaiser murmurs against Isagi’s ear. He slides his hand down to cup Isagi’s balls just the way he likes, and Isagi chokes on a sob.
“Please,” Isagi slurs, spasming. “Please, just let me-"
“Good boy,” Kaiser breathes out, tightening his grip with a grin, pumping Isagi’s cock and twisting his wrist along the head.
“Michael, Michael, Michael-” Isagi begs, tears dripping down his cheeks onto Kaiser’s shoulder where he’s pressed his forehead into.
“You’re so. fucking. hot,” Kaiser hisses, and Isagi shudders as he cums, spurting onto Kaiser’s stomach. He’s kind enough to work Isagi through it, slowing down his hand with the aftershocks.
Kaiser lets go of Isagi’s wrists, kissing the inside of both, and waits for him to come down from his high against his chest. Gradually, Isagi’s breaths even out, and he grabs blindly for the water bottle on their bedside table.
Kaiser watches with mild amusement, tracing soft patterns into Isagi’s back. “You’re missing,” Kaiser tells him helpfully.
“Fuck you,” Isagi murmurs. “Help me grab it.”
Kaiser rolls his eyes fondly. Isagi is shaking, and he really should drink something. Isagi takes the water from Kaiser’s hand, both of them sated in a very rare way. He sips at it idly, unwilling to move from Kaiser’s lap.
“Gotta clean up,” Isagi finally admits, looking down at the mess they made. Kaiser goes to take off his shirt and sighs at the way the neck is torn.
“Really, Yoichi? I liked this shirt,” He grumbles, resigned in his fate. “I’m just going to use this to clean. It’s ruined anyway.”
“We need an actual wet towel,” Isagi corrects, letting Kaiser wipe down his front and slide him out of his boxers. He falls back onto their bed with a small ‘oof’. “And a snack.”
“You’re such a fucking pillow princess,” Kaiser mutters under his breath. “I hope you die while I’m gone,” he says as he leaves, throwing on a hoodie and a pair of joggers.
“Mm,” Isagi hums in acknowledgment, lying limply on top of the covers. “If they have chocolate, and you don’t get it for me, I’m going to cut your bangs in your sleep.”
—
“You’re alive,” Gesner notes from the kitchen, looking up from his cup. “Pity.”
“I told you they’d just fuck about it,” Schneider takes a long swig of his drink. “Wish I could find myself a pretty, little thing to hop on my dick when I was angry.”
“You couldn’t handle him,” Kaiser scoffs, grabbing the leftover dessert from the fridge, and trying not to ruin his afterglow. He was really hoping no one would be in here still. “There are other, more pathetic players here. Get your own.”
“All the ones worth having are taken,” Ali rolls his eyes. “Figured I’d have some fun with that kid on Barcelona, but he’s attached at the hip to Sae’s little brother.”
“Right, and that one, hot redhead on Manshine is fucking the big kid on our team,” Schneider commiserates. “Like what the hell?”
“As if they’d even want you – you’re such a catch,” Gesner drawls, yawning. “At least with Isagi, we don’t have to deal with Michael’s shit more than usual.” He looks pointedly at Kaiser, who has picked up a dish towel and sprayed it with water to take back.
“Even Alexis has someone to bone,” Gesner grumbles, head in his hands. “Ridiculous. Fucking unfair. I feel like I’ll regain my virginity in this stupid place.”
“What’re you gonna do about Spain, Kaiser?” Ali hums thoughtfully. “What if they buy your contract? You’ll just be Luna and Itoshi’s little bitch. Then what?”
Kaiser pauses, humming contemplative. He really does need to figure that out; it’s not good news for him, even with an increase in salary. “I’ll just take their team from them,” he says easily. That’s the only option he’d have. If Kaiser hadn’t been calmed down beforehand, he’d probably lose it. Snap. Get into a fight. It doesn’t feel worth it, now. No matter what team he’s on, he’ll have Yoichi on his knees. “It can’t be that hard.”
“You’re no fun anymore,” Schneider mutters. “Getting real confidence? And having consistent sex? Life gives its worst people its best gifts.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so awful at football, you’d get more attention,” Kaiser stacks two plates and slams shut the refrigerator. “Just fuck each other or something,” he deadpans as he leaves.
“Whipped,” Gesner calls after him. “God, this sucks.”
—
Isagi is scrolling through his phone, still naked, when Kaiser comes back in. “Put your dick away,” Kaiser says flippantly.
“Make me,” Isagi answers, grabbing both the boxers and the wet towel Kaiser throws at him, eyes peeking up. He gasps when he sees the plate of cake Kaiser has. “Oh, I love that one! What’s it called again?”
“I told you the name a hundred times. I’m not saying it again,” Kaiser rolls his eyes. Isagi stays awful at German. “They didn’t have chocolate left – which is fine, because all you need is more garbage to eat.”
“Thank you,” Isagi says through a mouth full of food. He wipes his chest off with the hand not currently occupied by his fork. “Is anyone still up?” Kaiser doesn’t bother answering him, which Isagi takes as a yes, snagging Isagi’s phone roughly out of his hands. “You’re actually allergic to being a decent person,” Isagi mutters under his breath.
“Did you log into my Instagram?” Kaiser scowls up at Isagi, eyes narrowed. “I swear if you liked anyone’s posts without my permission…”
“Calm down, asshole. It’s not my fault that you never logged out,” Isagi slides into an oversized t-shirt and climbs under the comforter next to Kaiser. “Also, just so you know, I’m going to give you a black eye if you ever fuck up my neck like this again. How the hell are we supposed to go to practice? They film everything!”
“For someone who’s never thrown a punch in your life, you sure do talk big,” Kaiser looks at Isagi’s neck with a satisfied smirk. “It’s not like you didn’t try to rip out my jugular with your own teeth.”
“You did it first,” Isagi presses his cold feet to Kaiser’s calves, just to watch him shrink back. Kaiser kicks him hard in the shin, and Isagi kicks him in return. They go back and forth until Kaiser groans, and lets Isagi tangle their legs together. Isagi smiles to himself, wrapping his arms around his waist and shoving his face into his chest.
“Jesus, Yoichi, are you this desperate for attention?” Kaiser grumbles. He positions his arms around Isagi’s shoulders so he can still see the phone screen.
Kaiser had never been in a relationship where his partner wanted to…cuddle or whatever. It’s not that it’s unpleasant (Kaiser would rather die than admit it, but it’s actually pretty great). Yoichi is just, in general, horrible for his image.
“G’night,” Isagi’s hair tickles the bottom of Kaiser’s chin. Kaiser hums his answer, waiting for Isagi’s breath to slow down. It’s unfortunate, but Kaiser had actually grown pretty dependent on this to fall asleep. He used to have a hard time with it, for reasons he does not like to linger on, but he sleeps perfectly fine in Blue Lock. He does a lot of things easier in Blue Lock.
What the fuck am I going to do when I have to go back to Germany long-term? He considers pitifully, frowning. Maybe I can bribe Ego to give him his phone back while I’m gone.
Kaiser weighs his options, playing with the baby hairs at the back of Yoichi’s head idly and plugging in Yoichi’s phone.
Michael isn’t sure when he’ll have to explain to Yoichi why he has so many fucking issues. To be honest, that’s probably something you should talk about before you bite a chunk out of someone’s shoulder during sex and force them to move halfway across the world to play professional soccer with you, but Isagi had never pushed it, and Kaiser is just a little bit grateful. It’s not like Yoichi isn’t also kind of fucked up in his own special way. Michael actually prizes himself on knowing that, that the real Yoichi Isagi is just as sick as he is, and is too afraid to show it.
This is disgusting, Michael huffs in his head. He was supposed to get to this freakish prison, ruin Yoichi’s dreams, fuck him, and leave. When the fuck did he…Michael realizes something horrifying, counts to ten, and then is unable to deny that it’s real. Oh, fuck.
The worst thing is, Michael kind of…had this epiphany already. He realized it when Yoichi scored more than him, and the first thing he thought was: that was so hot. I want to ruin his life forever, and not: I’m going to kill him and his family. When his mania fizzled out into something more comfortable after reassurance. When he looked up at the offer from Spain with dread, instead of a proud, but raw, unbridled rage. He wants to stay on the German team. He wants to stay with Yoichi on the German team, so he can fuck up his career as long as humanly possible.
“Yoichi,” Kaiser whispers angrily, pulling his hand back to flick Isagi in the eye.
“What the fuck?” Isagi grunts, eyes opening blearily but filled with rage. “I was almost sleeping.”
Kaiser shuffles back and presses their noses roughly together with a scowl. “I have a problem,” he says slowly.
“You’ve got way more than one,” Isagi murmurs, blinking sleep away. “What could be so important that you need to talk about it now?”
Kaiser stares at him silently, only getting angrier, lips curling down; Isagi makes a small noise of confusion and scrunches up his nose, trying to push away from how close their faces were together. His breath smells like his peppermint toothpaste, and his hair smells like cucumber and mint. His face is a little shiny where he puts up with Kaiser’s stupid skincare routine. Both of them are covered in bandaids: any of their bites that broke skin during sex are cleaned out, and covered in aquaphor. “Fuck,” Kaiser hisses, cursing out every god he could think of. “Fuck you. God damn it.”
“Sure, when we have a break,” Isagi huffs out a tiny laugh. “Did you not like tonight? I mean, you jumped me, so that’s really your problem.” Isagi continues looking at him, still sleepy. He’s pretty, Kaiser groans in his head. From the smug look on Isagi’s face, Kaiser is pretty sure Isagi knows where this is going.
“I think…” Kaiser trails off, scowling. Instead of being put off, Isagi coos and squishes Kaiser’s cheeks together. “Cut it out!”
“He can think!” Isagi grins, jabbing at Kaiser’s sides. “Miraculous. Scientists remain confounded.”
“I’m trying to be serious,” Kaiser snaps.
“Oh, my bad,” Isagi snorts, blowing a puff of air at Kaiser’s eyes to see him flinch. “He’s trying to be serious. It’s very important. Everyone, stop talking so we can listen-”
“I love you,” Kaiser interrupts. They both get quiet, Isagi’s eyes blank, and Kaiser flushing. “Wow, that was awful. I hated saying that-”
“I know you do,” Isagi responds, eyes rolling. His cheeks are red regardless. “Idiot.”
“Say it back,” Kaiser commands, breathing out and relaxing his jaw. “If you’re so fucking smart.”
“And you already know I feel the same way, dipshit,” Isagi rolls his eyes. “Why would I let you do any of the shit you do otherwise?” Kaiser’s eye twitches. That is pointedly not an answer, and so he goes to put his cold hands onto Isagi’s stomach. Isagi’s eyes widen in panic. “Alright! Alright, I love you, too. Go to bed, and don’t touch me. I’m tired.”
“I hope you die in your sleep,” Kaiser touches Isagi’s stomach anyway, just to hear him yelp and squirm away. Fuck this, he thinks sleepily. I’ll deal with Spain tomorrow. Maybe Itoshi Sae will get some dick tonight, and chill the fuck out.