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1
Michael winced when he heard a knock on his door. Not that it was particularly unusual for someone to want something from him – even after they had finished the team dinner and retired to their respective hotel rooms – but that night, he simply couldn’t bear the thought of having even just one single more human interaction.
The game against Paraguay had drained him, to say the very least. It had been one of the most physically and mentally exhausting games of his career – and that was saying something. Over the years Michael had played in countless high-pressure games, against the best opponents, the most determined teams, in the most hostile stadiums, the worst conditions…
And yet, something about the way Paraguay had always had someone practically on top of him, taunting him, pressing up against him, tugging at his shirt, just riling him up in any way possible, hoping that the moment would come when he would finally lose his temper… It had left him feeling like a shell of himself, completely and utterly exhausted and practically dead on his feet.
Still, he sighed and dragged his feet to the door. There was simply no use pretending that he was already asleep. If this was one of his teammates, they would just blow up his phone until he answered, if it was coach… well, he would want to answer the door, even if he felt like he wouldn’t be able to process the tiniest piece of information. God, he really, really hoped that it was just Rayan who had forgotten his deck of cards or something.
He steadied himself, opened the door and… froze.
“Kylian?”
Michael couldn’t quite believe his eyes. What the fuck was his captain doing in front of his door? At this time as well?
It wasn’t like they weren’t friendly. They got along great. Their connection of the field was undeniable, and Kylian had always been friendly and respectful towards him. But they weren’t friends. At least not the kind that showed up at each other’s hotel rooms at fucking 10 pm.
At least Kylian seemed to be aware of the absurdity of the situation. His smile was sheepish and he even let a nervous hand run down his neck. “Sorry to bother you this late,” he mumbled, not even looking at Michael. “I just… Can I come in?”
Michael should have been annoyed or at least reluctant at complying with the request. Just a minute ago, he would have rather died than let someone into his room, presumably to talk. However, the fact that Kylian Mbappé, 2018 FIFA World Cup Champion, 2022 World Cup Golden Boot Winner, 7-time Ligue 1 Champion, the Dictator himself, had made his way down into Michael’s room intrigued him too much to be all too mad about it.
It was almost funny to watch Kylian come to a halt in the middle of the room, clearly unsure of what to do next. There wasn’t exactly a ton of space and Kylian was obviously not comfortable enough to just plop down on his bed – which Michael honestly appreciated.
“So…?” he asked tentatively, still pretty close to the door at a respectable distance from the older player.
Kylian visibly flinched. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “I shouldn’t have just barged in. You’re probably exhausted. I just… I just wanted to check on you, I guess. That game was…”
A small smile played around Michael’s lips at the older’s rambling. He loved seeing this side of their captain. It was… cute. Dangerous.
“Yeah.” Michael agreed with a huff, in the same moment Kylian seemed to land on: “A fucking shit show.”
They both huffed out a laugh. And God, Michael wished that he could just reach out and touch those beautiful lips. He wished that he could crowd the older against the wall and kiss him until their faces were numb. He wished that he could do anything…
Michael didn’t know how long he had had a crush on the older, but it had far preceded meeting him in person for the first time. He had probably been one of the men that Michael had admired a little too much before he had even realised that he liked men in that way. Maybe it had started all the way back when he had been 16 years old, watching Kylian lift the world cup in Moscow…
And now here he was, right in front of him, in his hotel room, and Michael would never dare to speak of or much less act on any of his deepest desires. Mostly because he quite liked his career… and his ability to breathe. And sure, there was always a chance that Kylian wouldn’t actually kill him if he tried anything – he did seem pretty cool in that way – but you never knew and Michael wasn’t about to risk it all to try it.
“At least we got there in the end,” he mumbled instead, trying to get his thoughts back to that wretched Paraguay game.
Kylian’s smile widened. “We did.” And he looked so proud that Michael suddenly felt close to tears. God, he really needed to get a grip.
Fortunately for him, the older sighed before he had to come up with another semi-intelligent thing to say. “So, you’re good?” Kylian asked. “Not hurt? Nothing lasting?”
Michael nodded. “Yeah, yeah, they didn’t get to me,” he mumbled before furrowing his brows as he remembered something. “They got to you though, didn’t they? Are you okay?” He wondered how many people Kylian had visited to ask the same question he had just asked Michael… and how many had asked it back.
The older just shrugged. “I’ve had worse,” he deflected. “I’ll be a little bruised up for a while, but I’ll live.”
Michael hated how matter-of-factly he sounded. How it was immediately obvious that he was trying to play down his pain. It reminded him far too much of many of his friends who had hidden injuries from coaches, from medical staff, from their families… just because they wanted to play. That shit never ended well. And fuck, Michael wouldn’t let Kylian do permanent damage to his body if he could help it.
So, before his slow-ass brain could catch up with his stupid fucking mouth, he heard himself asking: “Can I have a look?”
Michael wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole when he saw Kylian hesitate for what felt like an eternity. He realised that his question had been incredibly inappropriate and out of line, and he was just about to walk it back when the older shrugged, almost as if to say: ‘why the fuck not?’ and suddenly fucking Kylian Mbappé was taking off his shirt about a meter from Michael’s bed.
Michael’s mouth immediately ran dry and he had to physically force himself not to stare. However, it only lasted for a second. Because as soon as Michael caught as much of a glimpse of Kylian’s actual skin, every horny thought completely vanished from his mind.
“Fuck,” he cursed quietly. “This is so much worse than I had thought. Please tell me that you showed this to some kind of medical professional?!”
Kylian shrugged again, which Michael took to mean that he absolutely hadn’t. Fuck. He sighed. He knew that it would be useless to try and convince the older to see their medical staff but maybe he could at least offer him some relief.
“I have a cooling gel that you can put on it,” he said quietly, unsure how Kylian would take the suggestion. “The medical team gave it to me for my ankle so it’s definitely not on the doping list. I… I honestly don’t know whether it’ll do anything. But it might be worth a shot and it’s all that I can offer you…”
He hated how pathetic the ending of that sentence sounded. And yet, it seemed to work. Kylian barely had time to give a slight nod, before Michael was already on his way to the bathroom to retrieve the gel.
When he came back, Kylian had turned his back to look out of the window and – “What the actual fuck?!” Michael couldn’t help the unbelieving curses that tumbled out of his mouth at the sight. “Did they find you afterwards to beat you up? When did this even happen?!”
Kylian winced. “It looks worse than it feels,” he tried weakly, but Michael was going to have none of that.
“Turn around,” he ordered decisively. “There’s no way you can do this properly by yourself. So shut up and let me help you.”
Michael didn’t know what the fuck he had been thinking when he had said that. Probably nothing at all. Ugh. How had he ever thought that he could be normal about fucking Kylian Mbappé turning his back to him so that he could apply cooling cream to his bare skin. Oh God. What if he fainted?
He didn’t. But his heart was pounding in his ears, and his hands were shaking when he eventually finally got to work. The first touch felt electric in the best and worst way possible. And fuck. His pants definitely felt tighter than before. Michael hated his stupid fucking brain for being so goddamn horny. He was literally just touching a teammate’s bruised back! He wasn’t…
Another knock interrupted his thought process.
This time Michael winced so harshly that he dropped the gel. Kylian immediately moved to pick it up, while Michael stared dumbly at his door. All of this felt so fucking unreal. Was he just going to wake up and realise that he had dreamed all of it?
“Are you going to…?” Kylian eventually asked carefully, tearing Michael from his spiralling thoughts.
“Uh, yeah… sorry…” He hurried across the room, trying his best to wipe the gel off on his sweats, while also trying to gain back his ability to behave like a functioning member of society rather than a teenage boy who got hard from touching his unrequited crush’s back. God, he was such a loser.
Rayan’s smile wasn’t sheepish in the slightest when Michael opened the door. “Hey, man,” he greeted happily, with far too much energy for the day they had had. “I think I forgot my deck of cards here last night.”
For a moment that was probably far too long Michael just stood there and stared at him dumbly. Cards? What the fuck was he talking about?”
“Bro?” Rayan sounded genuinely concerned. “Are you okay?” And then he gasped. “Oh shit.”
Michael winced as Rayan’s eyes widened in shock and focused on something – or rather someone – in the room behind him. He turned and yup, there was Kylian, in all of his shirtless glory (why the fuck hadn’t he gotten dressed?!) confidently striding up to them, with Rayan’s deck of cards in hand.
Their teammate took them silently, looking almost dazed? “Uh… well, sorry guys,” he mumbled, averting his gaze. “I didn’t mean to… you know. Sorry.” And just like that, he was gone.
Michael wanted to bang his head against the door. It seemed that he had used up all of his luck against Paraguay, because what the fuck? Could that have looked any more suspicious? He had never told Rayan that he was into men… but what other reason would he have for behaving that suspiciously with their shirtless captain in his room at this hour? God, that looked so fucking bad.
He turned around to apologize to Kylian but the older didn’t seem concerned at all. He just smiled and told Michael that the gel was already working before he asked whether he could take it for the night and left with a squeeze of his shoulder and his shirt in hand.
2
The showers at their training ground in Boston had struck Michael as strange from day one. There were five normal locker room showers on one side… and then for some reason the other side was comprised of four individual shower stalls? With privacy curtains?
It shouldn’t matter at all. And yet, somehow, that particular set up managed to reintroduce shame into a group of men who had shared locker rooms with their teammates for decades. None of them had an issue showering next to each other… and yet, it seemed to be an unspoken rule that if you ended up with one of the individual stalls, you closed the curtain.
Which… whatever, it was fine. A bit strange, sure, but fine. Until Kylian intercepted Michael after their morning training session and asked whether he could help him apply the cooling gel again.
The captain had clearly just finished washing off. He was wearing nothing but a towel slung around his waist and there was water still clinging to his body everywhere. Michael himself was about to jump under the shower and was also naked except for his towel. Considering all of the circumstances that practically screamed at him about how bad of an idea it was, he should have at least hesitated.
But of course, he didn’t. He just followed his captain back into the shower stall that the older had just left and busied himself by squeezing his toiletries onto the little shelf for them – simply so he wouldn’t have to bend over to put them on the floor. Satisfied with himself when it all fit, he turned around, just in time to see Kylian pull the curtain close.
Oh God. This… well, it was certainly something. They were in a shower stall, behind a curtain, with nothing but towels slung around their waists, alone, together. And Michael’s dick was once again keenly aware of it. Fuck.
Would it be weird to ask Kylian to open the curtain again? Would all of this get even more awkward if they got to face a naked Dayet under the shower on the other side while Michael applied the gel? Could this even get any more awkward? Michael was about to say something, when Kylian pressed the tube into his hand.
“Thank you,” the older said lowly, seemingly oblivious to the connotation of the entire situation. “I really appreciate it, man.”
The ‘man’ almost made Michael bark out a hysterical laugh. God, this was so absurd again. “Yeah,” he mumbled, voice embarrassingly rough. “Yeah, no problem, man.”
Without any further thought, he squeezed some of the gel onto his hands and started to carefully apply it to the other player’s back. It was fine. Everything was fine. Until he applied a little more pressure on the muscle and Kylian started to outright moan.
Michael immediately halted his ministrations but that just caused Kylian to let out a high-pitched wine paired with a pathetic “No! Please keep going! That was so good!”
Someone let out a startled string of curses next to them and as Michael bit his lips and pressed his fingers into Kylian’s muscles again, he heard showers being shut off one by one as their teammates hurried out of the room – clearly presuming the worst.
And once again, Kylian seemed to be completely oblivious to it all, seemingly entirely lost in the relief that Michael’s gentle massage seemed to provide, containing to moan quietly and praise him enthusiastically. By the time, he let his hands fall, the room around them was eerily quiet… and Michael was completely hard.
Kylian just turned around to smile at him. “Thank you so much, man,” he said happily and even went to clasp his hand. “I really needed that.” And then, he just slipped out of the stall and trotted off towards the locker room.
Michael on the other hand had to let cold water run down his body until he was shivering before his body finally decided to calm the fuck down. By the time he got to the locker room, none of his teammates were there.
3
Michael stared at Désiré in absolute disbelief. They were standing in the doorway to his hotel room, after he had had to answer yet another late-night knock and… “You’re asking me for condoms?!”
Désiré shushed him. “Are you crazy? Do you want to tell the whole floor about it?!” he hissed. “Just go to Coach and tell him about it personally, why wouldn’t you?” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, man. I am asking you for condoms. Not your first-born child. Not money. Not drugs. Just condoms. And I know you have some.”
“Why would I have…” Michael began but winced when he remembered the showers just that morning. “Never mind.”
Désiré raised a brow and opened his mouth but this time Michael shushed him. “Don’t answer that. Don’t say a word.” He groaned. “What do you even need condoms for?”
His teammate looked at him with a look that was a horrible mix between exasperation, disbelief and disappointment. “What do people usually need condoms for, bro? I am trying to get laid.”
Michael groaned. “Well, obviously, but where did you even find someone? We haven’t left the hotel!”
At that Désiré actually laughed out loud. “You haven’t left the hotel,” he pointed out. “I went to the park and met a beautiful girl and her lovely dog this afternoon while you were busy… bribing the dictator or whatever it is you get up to in here.”
Michael wanted to argue. However, as if on cue, the elevator dinged to announce its arrival at that exact moment and just a few seconds later, Kylian was sauntering down the corridor towards them as if he owned the place. Michael wanted to jump out of a window. What the fuck did he do for the universe to hate him?
“Hi”, he mumbled awkwardly when their captain got within earshot. “I… You can wait in the room if you want.”
God, that had just made it all worse, hadn’t it? He assumed that Kylian was just there for the gel again. But commanding him to take off his shirt and wait until Michael could get to him wouldn’t exactly serve to make them look any less suspicious, would it? Ugh!
When he raised his gaze again, he found Désiré looking as if suppressing the urge to laugh might kill him at any moment. Michael wanted to kick him. God, this was all so fucking embarrassing.
Meanwhile Kylian was once again apparently entirely unconcerned. “Is everything okay?” he simply asked and casually wrapped an arm around Michael, because why wouldn’t he do that… Fuck. Michael wanted to die.
“Yes,” he managed to mumble. “Désiré here just met a very nice lady in the dog park, I guess, and is now asking me for condoms.” He knew that it was mean to just ‘out’ his teammate like that in front of their captain, but he didn’t care. Désiré was driving him fucking insane.
However, Kylian didn’t scold the younger. He just laughed. “Well,” he shrugged. “At least you are being safe.” And then – to Michael’s absolute mortification – he reached into the gym bag that he had been carrying and handed Désiré three packs of condoms… just like that.
Désiré seemed in as much disbelief as Michael was, however, he caught himself quicker. He gave Kylian a quick and awkward hug, then he thanked him, wished them a good night and scurried off.
It took Michael a few seconds, but then he rounded on Kylian. “What the fuck?” he demanded.
“What?” the older’s eyes were wide. “There’s no sex ban while we’re here. We don’t have a game tomorrow. As long as he’s responsible…”
Michael groaned. “It’s not… What are you… Why…” He sighed and nodded to the bag, “Are you always carrying those around?”
Kylian shrugged but he wasn’t meeting Michael’s eyes. “Better to be safe than sorry, non? And it’s not my first time giving these out to teammates. I’d rather them be protected.”
God, whenever he thought it couldn’t get any weirder… He sighed. “You’re here for your back?”
4
The next morning, breakfast was a horror show. Michael was quickly running out of teammates that he could still look in the face. And yes, technically, he knew that he shouldn’t be bothered by any of what was happening, especially since he wasn’t actually fucking the captain… but ugh, he didn’t know how to correct them without also risking being asked about his sexuality or his crush on the captain… and so, he kept his mouth shut and just avoided anyone with a pulse.
However, it seemed that Jules had chosen that particular morning to become Michael’s best friend. He stuck with him the entire time, tried to make small talk, asked him how he liked his food and even offered to share some of his own. It was fucking strange.
And then, eventually, it struck Michael that there was a pretty good chance that the defender was overcompensating for shit he had heard in the locker room. It had happened to him before, whether it was racist bullshit or homophobic comments… When his friends were suddenly far nicer to him than they usually were, it more often than not meant that there was stuff being said behind his back that they felt the need to protect him from. He put down his fork. He felt sick.
“I’m going to…” He didn’t even know what he wanted to say as he got up. Just knew that he had to leave. However, Jules seemed to have other plans.
“Can we just for a second?”, he said quietly, eyes nervously darting around the room. Michael really, really wanted to say no. But instead, he nodded and let himself be guided to an empty conference room just two doors down the corridor.
As soon as they were alone, Jules seemed to have forgotten why he had wanted to talk to Michael in the first place. Or maybe he had just forgotten every word he had ever learned. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Absolutely terrified and unable to move a muscle because of it.
Whatever it was that he had to tell Michael, he was increasingly sure that didn’t want to hear any of it.
“I…” the defender eventually began quietly, but before he could get far, there was a knock on the door, and none other than fucking Kylian poked his head inside.
“Everything okay in here?” He looked only at Michael as he asked. There was real worry on his face, it made Michael feel sick to his stomach.
He nodded. “Yeah, we’re good,” he lied. “Jules just wanted to talk.” When Kylian didn’t move, he added: “Alone.”
Next to him, Jules deflated. “No, it’s… it’s fine. You can stay if you want, I guess. This is about you as well. I…”
Michael’s heart sank and then started racing. He had anticipated that this would be about well that but hearing confirmation was still fucking terrifying. You would think that it would get easier, that it wasn’t this fucking horrifying every single time you were told about how they called you slurs and what they said behind your back… but Michael still couldn’t handle it.
He wished he could just turn around and bury himself in Kylian’s arms. But he couldn’t. As always, he was alone in facing this.
Or so he thought.
Jules cleared his throat. “I just wanted to tell you that… I guess that… that I… I am bisexual.”
The words struck Michael like lighting. What? What?!
“And I’ve… I’ve never really shared that with anyone.”
Fortunately for all of them, Kylian seemed to also be way better at this than Michael was. Because while the younger was still looking at their teammate as if he had just grown an extra head, their captain already made his way across the room and pulled Jules into a tight hug.
“Thank you for trusting us with this,” he said. His voice was stead, quiet, but loud enough for Michael to hear him. “Trust me, I know how hard it can be. I went years before I ever told anyone.”
And at that, Michael’s world completely tilted on its axis. What the fuck?! Was Kylian… not straight?! What. The. Fuck.
He knew that he wasn’t reacting in the way you were supposed to react when someone came out to you. But Michael simply couldn’t fucking believe it. “You too?!” he asked, not even entirely sure who he was addressing. It took a second for him to catch himself. “I mean… Yes, thank you for trusting us.”
Jules gave him a small smile and Michael kicked himself for not even noticing that their teammate had started to cry. “I guess you showed me that I am not alone,” the defender mumbled. “And I… I guess I wanted to show you that you’re not either.”
5
It was funny because you always heard that monumental news could leave you feeling a little ‘off balance’… Michael had never quite understood what people meant when they said that, until he got out of the shower that night, remembered Kylian’s words and… slipped and fell flat on his ass.
He cursed as he got up, checking for any actual damage. Luckily, he seemed to have gotten away with it this time… but he definitely needed to pay more attention if he wanted to be ready for the quarter finals.
When he woke up the next morning, he could feel a dull pain in his lower back, but during their training session he fortunately figured out that it didn’t bother him at all when walking or playing. However, then he went to sit down for some light stretching and… fuck. He could barely put any weight on it.
At first Michael thought that he had successfully fooled everyone into thinking he was completely fine… but that allusion swiftly got destroyed when Didier asked both him and Kylian to hang back after they concluded the session.
He looked far too serious and Michael thought that he might genuinely throw up.
“All of us here are adults,” their coach began. “And I do not care, what you get up to in your free time. You know that.” He shook his head. “As long as it doesn’t affect your ability to give it your best shot on the pitch.”
He crosses his arms. “Honestly, I have to say that I am disappointed. I would have expected better of the two of you.”
Kylian looked completely lost and Michael wanted to cry. Their captain did not deserve any of the fucking blame that he was taking.
“I fell on my ass,” he hurried to say. “I promise. I literally just slipped and fell. Kylian had nothing to do with it.”
Didier grimaced. “You don’t have to make up excuses,” he grumbled. “Again, I don’t care what you do in your free time… as long as it doesn’t affect the team and our chances at the cup.” He groaned. “God, I can’t believe I have to say this. But just stick to fucking blow jobs for two days, will you?” And with that, he let them go.
+1
Michael didn’t even shower after that. He just grabbed his stuff and tried his best to be invisible until he could finally get back to his room.
He should have expected the knock. “I just wanted to check on you.” Kylian was wearing that same look of nervous concern on his face that he had that first night he had shown up in front of his door. It made everything feel even worse.
“I’m fine,” Michael croaked. “It was just stupid. I genuinely just fucking fell on my ass last night. I guess it happened. I’ll watch my feet in the future. I don’t think it affects my game, but I am sorry if I have let the team down.”
Kylian just reached out a hand. “I brought the gel in case you need it.”
It seemed so absurd that Michael couldn’t help a choked laugh that snuck past his lips. “Thanks.”
But before he could grab the tube, Kylian pulled his hand back. “If you want to, I can help you uh…”
Michael stared at him, once again in complete and utter disbelief. “Did you just offer to put cooling gel on my ass?!”
Kylian immediately looked downright panicked. “You put it on my back! It felt rude not to offer!”
“It’s my ass!” Michael groaned. Either this man was hopelessly horrible at flirting or the thickest human being on the planet. “No wonder the whole fucking team thinks you’re fucking me.”
“What?!” Kylian looked genuinely shocked. It was the second option then, most dense person on planet earth. How nice.
Michael closed his eyes and forced himself to take deep breaths. “Don’t tell me that you had no clue this entire time.”
“I… what?!” Kylian seemed genuinely flabbergasted.
Michael took pity on him. “Rayan shows up at my door to get his cards back and you hand them to him – at 10 pm, shirtless.”
“I could have been there for a million reasons!”
“We get into a shower stall, together, close the curtain and you start positively moaning.”
“Sorry that I don’t want to look at my teammates dicks while getting my injuries treated?”
“Then Désiré asks me for condoms are you just waltz up to my room and in the process hand him some right out of your bag.”
“I just carry them around!”
“Then Jules comes out to us to let us know that we are not alone.”
“Well, I am bisexual?”
“And then today coach basically tells me off for bottoming too close to a match!”
The entire time, Kylian had gotten progressively paler and by the end, he looked more like the wall than he did like himself. “I… Oh my God. When you say it like that. I… I am so sorry. I didn’t mean…”
Michael huffed. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. At least they seem to have taken it alright? That’s comforting, I guess?”
“Fuck.” Kylian shook his head as if that would help him wrap his mind around everything. Then, his eyes suddenly widened. “Shit. Do you have a partner that I have to worry about or something? I am absolutely shit at fighting, but I could probably get Dayot to suit up for me or something.”
Michael laughed. “No, I don’t. God, you’re such an idiot.” Then after a while, he quietly added: “I didn’t know you were bi.”
Kylian shrugged. “Yeah, I mean it’s not like I tell a bunch of people all the time. But… yeah.” He looked up. “And you are too?”
Michael swallowed. “I wish,” he huffed, feeling the familiar acidic taste of the admission on his tongue. “I’ve… you know… tried with women but I don’t think that they are for me.”
Kylian smiled gently. But then his face fell again. “Fuck. Oh God. I didn’t mean to imply anything by offering… with the gel. I didn’t want to… you know…”
Michael laughed. “Okay, now I am kind of offended. Would it be so bad to touch my ass?!”
“No! Or I mean…” And Kylian blushed. He fucking blushed. “Of course not. It’s… it’s a really cute ass.”
Michael laughed again. “Hm… I think you’ll have to talk me up a bit more until I let you touch. That wasn’t all that convincing.”
He was kidding. Obviously. But Kylian stared at him. “What would be enough?” he asked, far too earnestly. “That I am sorry I didn’t realise what people were thinking because I was too busy trying to get over my hopeless crush on you? That I felt like my whole world shifted the first time you touched me and that I have not stopped craving your touch since? That I had put those condoms in my bag because I had delusionally hoped that maybe one day something might actually happen? That you are the most incredible person I know? So talented, so funny, so kind, so ambitious, so simply you… Would that be enough?”
Michael huffed out another breathless laugh. “Yeah,” he whispered and cupped Kylian’s cheek with his hand. “Yeah, that’ll do.” And then, then they were suddenly kissing and nothing else mattered.