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The match was over, and he was still processing the loss. The Argentinians were rejoiced; of course they were, this victory just assured their way towards the finals.
God, he feels as though he’s about to cry.
His thigh still hurts like hell, from whatever happened with Julián Álvarez earlier, which earned the Argentines a penalty.
Dominik doesn’t realize he’s staring at said player until their eyes meet. He immediately looks away, and suddenly, Emiliano is in front of him, with open arms, offering comfort. Dominik barely hesitated and took the hug, when the Argentinian goalkeeper told him sweet nothings in hopes of comforting him.
It helped a little, but the Croat still couldn’t stop thinking about the younger Argentinian player, Julián. They crossed paths a few times, mainly by mere coincidence, and had some friendly conversations, but nothing more. He couldn’t stop thinking about him since.
But now, here they were, playing against each other. One had won and the other had lost. What else did they get out of this? For Julián, a penalty, for Dominik, an agonizing pain in the leg.
“Hey, Livaković?” That was undeniably Julián’s voice. Even after their short conversations, he could recognize the Argentine’s voice. Dominik turns around and is faced with no one but the Spider-Boy himself. He could see a hint of guilt in the boy’s eyes, though mainly overtaken by happiness. Well, he did just win the match after all.
“Álvarez?”
“Good game,” Julián says shyly, flashing an awkward smile and offering his hand. Dominik shakes it and smiles in return. “I’m…sorry for earlier, by the way, uh— does it hurt a lot?” He had an obvious accent, and struggled a lot with his words, but Dominik found it adorable.There was clear genuineness in his voice, he meant well despite the sentence possibly coming off as condescending.
But Dominik knows Julián meant well, from what he sees.
“It’s okay, it’s nothing.”
“You’re kind of struggling to stand on that leg…” The Argentine shyly points out, to which Dominik feels his face heat up out of embarrassment. “Let me help you, c’mon—
“I can walk, don’t worry,” Dominik retorts, and tries to prove so but miserably fails at it, to which Julián smiles exasperatedly.
They both look at each other in silence and there’s a mutual agreement. The Argentine wraps Dominik’s arm around his shoulders, while grabbing the Croat’s waist to hold him stable, as they walk off the pitch that way.
Neither really cared whether or not people were watching — which they were, by the way — and the only thing that mattered was getting to the tunnels as quickly as possible.
Though Julián didn’t really want to let go of Dominik’s waist, the deepest part of his brain thinks. But he quickly shakes the thought off, because what the fuck. They barely know each other. At most they could consider themselves barely into the friendship stage. That’s what he thinks, at least. Because they’ve grown a little closer over the weeks.
In the end, he helped Dominik reach the Croatian team’s dressing rooms. The brunette thanks him, and they part ways.
“Dominik…What was that.” It didn’t even sound like a question, Gvardiol made that clear.
“What was what?”
“You’re becoming buddy buddy with that Argentinian guy all of a sudden?” It wasn’t like Gvardiol meant it in a bad way; on the contrary, he was smugly smiling at his friend who looked at him confused. But then, Dominik’s face fell.
“Joško what the fuck are you implying.”
“Dominik…c’mon, helping you get to the tunnels? Grabbing you by the waist a tad bit too tightly?”
Now that he thinks about it, Julian did grab his waist a little tightly, but Dominik assumed it was probably to keep him stable as they walked. That was the most logical explanation.
It was just him in the hotel room this time. Joško had gone out with some of their other teammates to probably drink the loss away. He wanted to join, but figured that with the amount of alcohol he had already consumed right after the match, it would be better to leave it at that.
It wasn’t until he heard a knock on the door, that he thought he could drown in his sadness in peace. He slouches up and opens the door, sighing audibly before his breath gets cut short when he falls face to face with Julián.
“Julián? What’re you doing here it’s pretty late—
“I wanted to see you,” Julián blurts out, his face red and his accent so clear it was almost cute. He clearly struggled to stand stable, having to hold onto the doorframe for some support.
Dominik falls silent, before stepping aside to let the Argentine in. He closes the door afterwards and invites Julián to sit next to him on the bed. All the while it was quiet, and the atmosphere was heavy.
“…Does it still hurt?” Julián asks shyly. Dominik shoots him a look.
“You came all the way here just for this?” Clearly he wouldn’t have asked that if he was sober. Even the Argentine was slightly taken aback, but he seemed to process the words before getting out a nervous answer.
“I— Well, yes and no but— I figured I wanted to check on you ‘cause we’re friends I— I shouldn’t have come here I’m sorry,” Julián rambles, fidgeting with his hands as he was getting more and more nervous. He stands up but to his surprise, Dominik grabs him by the arm to drag him back down on the sheets.
“Julián…Are you drunk?”
The Argentine fell silent. What the hell was he supposed to answer? Sure, he did drink a little to celebrate the victory, but he doesn’t remember drinking too much either. Perhaps he was just a little tipsy, but he didn’t feel like it at all.
“…No?” His tone went higher at the end, clear hesitance was audible in his voice and the awkward smile was the cherry on top. Dominik can only sigh, and smile to himself, but concern traces his features when he sees Julián on the verge of tears.
“Are you okay?”
“I— I don’t know,” Julián looks away, his voice breaks and he feels like he’s losing more and more control over his emotions. Though it always happened when he was drunk. “I feel bad for hurting you and then earning a penalty though it was my fault I— I don’t know I just— mierda—
“Hey— uh, take your time,” Dominik insists, seeing as the Argentine was getting more and more overwhelmed. The entire situation was a little confusing, especially on Dominik’s side of things, but neither of them cared about that at the moment.
The Argentine’s eyes couldn’t stop shifting between Dominik’s gaze and his lips, God since when have those lips become so kissable? Julián wants to shake the thought away, but his brain wasn’t sober enough to do so. He doesn’t want to. He wants to keep the thought and make it go further.
“I…I don’t wanna hurt you,” he says, all of a sudden. The long moment of silence had been broken; it sparked Dominik's attention as he looked into Julián’s eyes. The Argentine’s eyes held a shine that he couldn’t explain; almost as if he was looking at him with puppy eyes. Literally. “Though I already hurt you back there. And I didn’t want to. I don’t want you to hate me.”
He looked at the floor in shame as he spoke, the deepest parts of his consciousness knowing full well he probably sounded stupid and childish. But his heart told him to let it all out. He couldn’t bear it any longer.
“I don’t hate you, Julián…”
The tone which Dominik used to say his name felt odd. It was soft, sincere, unexplainable. It catches the Argentine’s attention as he glances back up, eyes still shining with forming tears, even in the dimly lit room. They look at each other, before Dominik starts speaking again.
“I know it was unintentional, you don’t have to worry about it,” Dominik smiles, “Seriously, don’t get worked up over this.”
“I…”
“You still don’t believe I’m fine?” Dominik asks, before slightly raising up his shorts to expose his thigh; to reveal that there was nothing there. He just hopes it would calm Julián down.
But the Argentine knows that just because there’s nothing there, doesn’t mean it isn’t hurting like hell. So he hesitantly lets his hand reach for the Croat’s thigh, waiting for an approval of the sort. Dominik just nods, which gives him the green light.
He let his fingers brush against Dominik’s pale thigh, and it was soft. He can feel the Croat get tense under his touch and he wants to move away, but something tells him to apply some more pressure on the spot. Just to make sure. And he fully rests his hand on the place, gripping it very gently before loosening that grip when he hears Dominik hissing in pain.
He didn’t want to lose the physical contact he was having with Dominik. He wanted to keep his hand on the Croat’s thigh forever, if he could.
They look in each other’s eyes once again, and the tension is palpable. Julián unconsciously lets his fingers brush across Dominik’s thigh, almost like he wanted to make up for the pain he caused. Dominik lets him. He doesn’t mind.
But was that what friends were supposed to do? Sit uncomfortably close to each other while one touches the other’s thigh?
They didn’t care anymore.
God, Julián couldn’t fucking stand it anymore. He felt like he needed to do something about the small space between them. The tension is higher than ever, and neither of them want to pull back. Their lips are mere inches away from one another and Julián can’t stop staring at Dominik’s lips. Just like Dominik couldn’t stop staring at Julián’s.
Then, it happened. It was slow, hesitant, and the taste of different alcohols was present, but by god was it the sweetest kiss either of them has ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
It was something Julián’s thought about doing for the past few weeks now. Ever since they met, he couldn’t help but quickly become enamored with the shy Croat. He knew he had a habit of falling in love quickly, and he knew it never ended well.
But this time, he was almost sure it was the right one. Was it because Dominik reciprocated the want of forming a friendship? Probably. But that was more than enough for Julián to think this way. And now, here he was, kissing Dominik in the most drunkenly hesitant way that could ever exist.
But he loved it. Loved every second of it and loved how soft Dominik’s lips were, and it was as if they had become even softer when he felt the Croat melt into the kiss.
His hand was still on Dominik’s thigh, the spot where it hurt. He still wanted to know if it hurt or not. He caresses the spot in a slightly different way this time, which prompts Dominik to let out a small noise. That caused Julián to stop and slightly pull away, muttering an apology. But Dominik says it’s okay and immediately kisses him again. A sign for him to keep going, to keep touching him like that.
The Croat wanted this more than anything.
(That’s why he found himself staring at Julián so many times; who could blame him? The Argentine was gorgeous in his eyes.)
God, Julián was making him feel things he didn’t even know existed. And he fucking loved it; he doesn’t want it to stop. Ever.
The kiss slowly got more and more heated, when Dominik reached for Julián’s hand to keep it on his pained thigh. The Argentine immediately gets the message, and gently brushes his fingers over the spot again. He could feel Dominik fall apart under his touch, and it thrilled him.
Dominik feels himself get pushed further back on the bed, with Julián between his legs as they make out. Neither pulled away this whole time, and Julián was still holding the Croat’s thigh like it was the most precious thing in the world. Dominik gently grabs Julián’s face, holding him still, in a way. Meanwhile Julián had his other hand grab onto the Croat’s other thigh, as he was exploring both of Dominik’s thighs with his hands, enjoying their softness.
But they were both drunk, so the chances of not remembering anything the next day were very high. It was probably the best moment of Julián’s life, and if he allowed himself to say so, then he’d admit it was better than winning the semifinal.
He wishes it could last forever.
It’s been a while since he slept this well. He did win the semifinal the night before, which was certainly a factor for it, but also a factor for him sleeping later than usual, as he was still pumped with adrenaline even when drunk. That would be the case if he didn’t fall asleep in a certain someone’s comforting embrace.
The main factor for such a good sleep though, was definitely the pair of arms wrapped around his neck, and the soft chest he lay his head against. He could hear the person’s heartbeat, it was rhythmic, and gave him the will to fall asleep again.
Though the fingers gently running through his hair gave away that the person was awake. Julián doesn’t want to hold him back, so he lifts his head up and is face to face with Livaković. The male’s soft features shone in the rising sun’s light, he looked ethereal. Julián can’t help but smile, as he does with every beautiful sight his eyes fall upon, and Livaković smiles back, his fingers still gently tangled in the Argentine’s hair.
“Sleep well?” Dominik’s voice was soft. So gentle and tired, it made Julián want to fall back asleep. But he wants to hear that voice more often. He doesn’t want to live without it. So he hums in response, letting the Croat know that yes, he slept well, he slept amazingly even, especially in the male’s arms.
They smile at each other, before Julián shifts to get to eye level with Dominik. It was a moment of pure silence, pure peace, just the two of them enjoying each other’s presence, and each other’s beauty. That could only be proven further when Dominik reaches for Julián’s cheek, gently caressing it.
“You’re pretty,” he’d mutter. Even with his accented English, and with Julián’s limited skills, the Argentine still knew what it meant. And he could feel his face heat up. And Dominik must’ve felt it too because he softly chuckled at the male’s reaction.
They just wanted this to last forever. That’s all they wanted.
But they were in Qatar, in the middle of an International competition, where for one of the men, the final was just a few days away. The most important part of it all. Not to mention, one wrong move and the two of them could lose everything. Especially in their position. Especially in Qatar, a country known for not being the most accepting of nations.
But all they could do was enjoy this moment right then and there, and just think about the present. Enjoy it while it lasts, because they won’t get to have more of those moments in the future.
Only the present moment mattered the most.
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