Chapter Text
The thing is, most people would mistake Jude as an Alpha.
And it's not some baseless hypothesis, England's official YouTube channel did actually release a video where they asked random England fans to guess their roster's secondary gender. While Jude never hides this from anyone, seeing 9 out of 10 (minus one guessing he was at least a Beta) fans' bewildered faces when they found their guesses were wrong about him was so bloody entertaining and satisfying that he keeps coming back to the clip whenever he feels bored.
(Which is definitely more entertaining compared to when Real Madrid asked the Spanish fans, and well, "Oh sí, obviously only Omegas would be like that, we have tons of them here" - says a lot about La Liga and Spain's national team as a whole, really.)
And it's completely understandable.
By normal standards (England's standards, at least), Jude doesn't look like a stereotypical Omega. He is far from the usual image of a short, white-skinned twink with big doe eyes, soft blond locks, and a glistening long pair of legs ("two out of four, actuall-" "Shut the fuck up, Jobe"). So unless he is walking down England's streets with no patches and baring his scent glands, nobody would even turn their head twice and stop him just because they think he is an Omega.
Doesn't act like one either. Friendly reminder, he is a professional full-time footballer; he makes passes and scores goals daily on par with his Alpha and Beta teammates, he pushes and tackles opponents on the field, and hell, if he ever just stands there and lets them talk crap about him or his loved ones.
And yes, "it's the big 2026 now, stop stereotyping Omegas". And yes, "Omegas don't have to be petite and weak, they can be tall and stand up to Alphas and can be a footballer" and all that yada yada. Of course he knows that; he is one. And he's one of the best currently.
Still doesn't change the fact that there exists huge discrimination between Alphas and Omegas in this game and their opposite expectations. That he was, or is, at the receiving end of them.
It's part of the reason why he thinks he will never set foot back in English leagues. (Un?)Fortunately.
Anyway, yes, he is smugly proud of the fact that he can participate in those "6 vs 1 imposter" challenges and most possibly win.
Though another thing is, Jude does not really dislike being an Omega.
Surprise surprise, all of his yapping and bitching and advocating for the treatment of Omegas, along with his browser history where he had secretly voted for himself in the "Which footballer would be better as an Alpha?" poll before hitting 'report' would argue otherwise. And again, completely understandable.
Yet, even after all the crap he had to endure, being an Omega thriving in an Alpha-dominated field, being able to shut those old-fashioned, sexist haters up, makes it so worthwhile.
Jude Bellingham proved himself again and again.
He made headlines for his transfer when he was only 17. He made Real Madrid, the most prolific club in the world, sign him at €103 million at just 19, and his market value has only ever gone up since then. He was fresh off of 21 and was in the race for the 2024 Ballon d'Or despite being a midfielder.
Then he turned 23, and had the entire England nation chanting his song. Can't believe he got The Freaking Beatles to write a song for him in 1968, God bless.
So there, naturally, he has a high ego.
Because achieving everything as an Alpha and defying the stereotype could never ever be this bloody damn satisfying.
Ah, but naturally, Alphas don't like Omegas with high ego.
Most of them, so they would say.
He is too "rough on the edge" for an Omega, he is stronger and taller than most normal Alphas, he outshines them too much. One dude he was making out in the bar with, feeling quite handsy, touched his bit-bigger-than-usual-omega cock, only to immediately sober up and confidently back away, leaving a disheveled and disbelieved "are you actually shitting me right now, mate?" Jude alone.
All in all, he would have made his peace and had absolutely no problem with never finding an Alpha partner. Better off sticking with Betas or other Omegas.
So here's the last thing. Jude thinks that if only he hadn't met him so young, then he would absolutely have no qualms about never being with an Alpha for the rest of his life.
Signing with Dortmund to the Bundesliga, Jude never once doubts, was forever the best decision he ever made at 17.
He was a late bloomer, to the point everyone around him just assumed he was a Beta. It wasn't the most preferable for a footballer, though not bad, per se. But as the transfer season was reaching near and he was gaining the attention of some pretty big club names, he began to feel- Omega-ish. He started presenting small signs of an Omega; body temperature getting high more easily, noticing the scents of people around him, and his bottoms appeared to be… stickier.
"Oh sweetie, we'll always support your career no matter what."
Thank God for blessing him with the most supportive and loving family ever. They comforted and stayed up with him while he cried his eyes out all night after the doctor's visit, fearing how his football career had only just begun but must end so soon. His parents advised him to at least state his concern to the interested clubs first then decided to go from there.
Most of said clubs immediately backed down from their previous offers, except Manchester United and Borussia Dortmund — clubs historically with Omega players. But with BVB's reputation for training young promising stars before and after their secondary gender's revelation, plus, understanding too well the less-black-and-omega-friendly-than-others Premier League, it wasn't a tough decision to make.
Thus, Jude Bellingham, 17, packed up his bags to Germany under the hugs along with promises from his parents and brother to follow his matches. On the plane, he made up his mind to become one of the best footballers England has ever made — if he must play as a midfielder, then he will play as a goddamn perfect midfielder, biology be damned.
Jude Bellingham, fresh off his arrival in Dortmund, would soon start his first professional game in his yellow-white uniform.
Jude Bellingham, picked up straight from Birmingham City, would soon make a beautiful pass for his Alpha teammate striker's finishing goal to win him his first Bundesliga game.
Jude Bellingham, young promising midfielder, would soon be engulfed in a tight hug (with broad arms holding him, height much taller but somehow just right that had him lift his head far up to look directly at those blue eyes for the first time) by said Alpha teammate striker —Erling Haaland, in their first official game together.
Said Jude Bellingham then would also soon fall irrevocably and hopelessly in love with said perfect striker Erling Haaland he met at the age of 17.
In Jude's defense, Erling Haaland makes it so easy to fall in love with.
He is the wet dream of every (?) passer on the pitch with how incredibly reliable he is when he gets passed the ball. Guaranteed goals or at least shots, every.single.time. Jude remembers how he would usually break into an early goal celebration just right after passing the ball to Erling (and it helps that said striker never let him down as well).
There's no questioning why Erling was making sports headlines, already hailed as "the promising best striker of the next generation" at such a young age. However, underneath all that record-breaking, Viking-bloodline-scoring-machine image, he's also the most kind-hearted, charming Alpha outside the field. As if Jude even needed more reasons to be breathlessly captivated at first sight already.
Erling has never once seen Jude less than a dependable teammate regardless of his biology. From the early days when he first arrived in Dortmund, when it was just "shy and demure" Jude, to the "confident and expressive" Jude that everyone grows to associate with now. Erling back then never treated him differently from other guys: hugs, light-hearted banter, tackles around, playful sexual innuendo, drinking contests. Whether it is because he neither really cared nor might even be aware of how an Alpha – Omega relationship should work.
Yet ironically, since obviously his life isn't pretty fucking hilarious enough, Jude's Omega apparently does.
Months of preparation since his arrival, ranging from re-reading Dortmund's recommended handbook "Omegas in Alphas' field" for the 10th time to visiting doctors and health consultants once a week, even sometimes reading and agreeing with AITA Reddit posts. All for his first heat.
One thing he learnt from all of them: before their heat, whether subconsciously or not, Omegas tend to come off as coquettish around Alphas they are highly comfortable around.
Jude swore to God he was prepared. He had expected he might act a bit whimsical and affectionate around someone (a.k.a his crush) as compatible with him as Erling, he hadn't expected he would act so downright needy.
Because of course Jude's first instinct upon entering a room would be searching for the scent and sight (else ways to steal the attention) of one Erling Haaland. And of course it would always be ridiculously damn easy since Jude's Omega had decided that the Norwegian blood's pine and fjords scent was so distinctive but so damn comforting whenever he was held and wrapped fondly, protectively in those strong, broad arms for a goal or against an unruly opponent.
For an Omega with such a deep conviction on breaking the stereotypes, it should be embarrassing how fast Jude's tense shoulders relaxed when he sensed his striker was near; how long he let himself linger and rub in the smell of sweat on Erling's chest; how loud his treacherous mind would purr knowing while he could hold his ground just fine, there truly does exist such an Alpha who would immediately rush to his side and shield him against rival players even think of daring to shove him around and deluding himself "that's how an Alpha preening for an Omega should be".
Jude's half-hearted efforts of telling his Omega instinct to please shut the fuck up because clearly Erling Haaland treated and defended all of his teammates like that did not work. Whether it was due to finally getting to be close with his long-time one-sided crush or his confused biology hinting how he might finally have found himself the perfect mate he once thought would be non-existent.
Jude then tried to reassure himself that all of this happened because everything was still new. It was his first time playing for a powerhouse name in a Tier 1 League, but it also meant soon going through his first heat in a foreign country, away from his home and family. He was overwhelmed, his Omega felt like it needed a place in a pack, and he found camaraderie in far-from-home folks (yes, plural, he's not that desperate) around his age like Erling.
Once the rush of his first heat ended, he told himself, it would get better.
It, in fact, did not get better.
His first heat at 17 was, quoting his captain Marco Reus to the unrelenting press, "handled with professional care and understanding" along with "respect our player's privacy".
If one were to ask any of his teammates, they would say it consisted of lots of him whining, throwing tantrums, easily being emotionally triggered, and more of them persuading and baby-talking him to eat or stay hydrated.
If one were to ask Erling Haaland, he would add a fun fact about how he remembered that time his three hoodies magically disappeared. (Dortmund tried multiple times to get their leading striker to attend media-training classes, they later found him practicing scoring headers with their English midfielder instead.)
Unfortunately, Jude Bellingham himself couldn't testify to the truth for any of those above (bar the last one, and that was only because he had the direct evidence unwashed and hidden somewhere in his closet in case of- well, emergency). Since, one moment he was running then stopping to pour some water due to "feeling under the weather", the next thing he knew he was choking up, knees giving out, heavy buzzing in his ears, and thinking he might actually die from how his body temperature was burning up.
Everything that happened after passed as a blur in his memory, with fragments here and there of the medics, his teammates, his room.
His first ever heat lasted for 4 days, with each day passing more easily than the previous. At some point between the waves, he was luckily lucid enough to listen to the doctors and his team advising/pleading with him to eat or drink something. Perhaps secretly steal some sweaty clothes from the laundry team when they were busy checking in on him as well.
He would later come out of his room, finally refreshed and quick to feel guilty but extremely grateful for the extensive care of the club he was promised; for the support of his teammates, especially the few other Omegas who laughed, hugged, and scented him a bit when he returned their cleaned jerseys. Though less grateful when they knowingly tried to bite down a wolf-whistle when a certain confused Alpha asked around about his missing hoodies and Jude somehow was the first to make a beeline straight for the door.
There was also the lingering question of how he returned to his room on the first day. He was only told by the doctors that he was "carried safely", which he felt too ashamed to ask the follow-up question of who it was (and seemed like the one who did wouldn't want to make themselves known either).
In hindsight, he would say his first heat was actually quite well. If minus the fact of how unbearably hot and horny he was at some point and his delirious mind was subconsciously fantasizing the image of a 192cm-tall aroused Alpha teammate breaking down his door forcibly and lifting his leg on his broad shoulder, then nailing him aggressively like a wild animal on his creaking bed.
(Jude would definitely sob and slur and moan so much, but he had a feeling somehow that messy sight would only turn the Alpha on even more and the Omega would be too cock-dumbed with his hole clenching too tightly around the other's shaft to even pretendingly breathe out a protest.)
In reality, three of Jude's fingers were going in and out of his ass and him alone in the room wondering if just from this only could ever achieve the same high.
Looking back, thinking about the situation of the club then and of how he was unable to look directly at his striker plus best friend at the time for three days, Jude still thinks no matter how pleasurable it could have been, he was glad the fantasy of his loss of virginity did not realize. Yet.
They- He would be too young and dumb for the aftermath were anything to happen.
Because even after his heat, instead of finally backing down from his feelings and keeping distance from the blond Alpha, he couldn't help but be even more inexplicably drawn to him. The only difference now is he couldn’t blame it on his stupid biology as pre-heat jitters every time he stayed within fifty meters of Erling.
(It also didn't help that their lockers were placed right next to each other in the dressing room so there was no chance of avoiding him; hence, a "fuck you very much" to whoever designed that is in order.)
(Jude lied, he was ecstatic and on the verge of mentally making out with whoever designed that at the time.)
The Brit knew better — was taught better than letting Omega instinct take control. Surely if this ever reached their ears, his parents, his brother, his teachers, or every media outlet would call him out for being a hypocrite: "Bend it like Bellingham! Omega Jude Bellingham seeking to break traditional Alpha – Omega stereotype by bending over backwards like a complete lovestruck fool for one!"
God.
It only makes him want it more.
And more than seeing Erling as a compatible Alpha, he could see him as such a loving and wonderful lover.
The way they got along so easily and instantly — or as the Norwegian media described them, "finne tonen". The way Jude was taught to express affection openly was warmly reciprocated by Erling. The way the midfielder could, no matter when or where, just jump straight into the striker's arms and would always undoubtedly be caught, lifted, and carried around effortlessly as if he wasn't also a grown 182cm-tall.
Or the absolute contrast between the sheer menace, relentless machine, always-prepare-for-battles-revenge-and-blood Viking type of one Erling Haaland on the field; and the sunny, humble, and caring 3-year-older who never once raised his voice at Jude. All point to an ideal partner.
So, imagine if Erling did all of those for just a teammate plus friend, what would he even be like for his lover and mate?
That's where Jude let himself imagine a little further of a future with Erling. (Only a little since he understood far too well it wouldn't be with him and the gut-wrenching reminder would make him lose sleep.)
Unhelpfully, he had seen Erling's interviews when asked about their relationship, replying something along the lines of "older than him", "mentor", "want to make him feel belong in the team", "one of the youngest and newest", "isn't just an Omega".
Therefore, yes, he was certainly aware of Erling's unrequited feelings and views. "What a good ol' reliable (Alpha) teammate normally looking out for their new (Omega) recruit", "like any person out there would", "bare minimum", and all that.
But, since Jude Bellingham is one greedy, yearning bastard, he would take and take what is offered and that must sometimes be enough.
Further let himself indulge in Erling's scenting hugs, playful cheek-kisses, lingering touches, and empty flirting. Else did nothing to keep his ego in check as he smugly stood behind the Alpha towering over those rowdy, sexist, nitwit opponents; sometimes not forgetting to gift them all a middle finger somewhere the live cameras couldn't reach.
He wasn't Erling's, but was still a proud Omega with a crush, nevertheless.
"Hang on- mate, you were born in England?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Up in Leeds."
Jude lifted his head, which he swore was still resting on the couch at the beginning of the light show but somehow ended up dropped comfortably on Erling's shoulder now, frowning as he stared at his teammate.
"Why have never you told me this?"
"Well, you never aske- Ouch, dude?" Yeah, Erling deserved at least a light shove for that.
The two were watching the Euro 2020 Final. By some miraculous way despite delays due to the pandemic, the entire tournament would manage to wrap up nicely just a few days before 2021. Which the last matchday also happened to be on the day before New Year's Eve.
On which Jude, currently at Erling's rented apartment, was spending time.
With Erling. Just the two of them.
Like casual friends hanging out in a sleepover watching the game.
…Weren't they?
"OH MY DAYS! SHAW! What a goal, what a lad!"
"Come on now! How the hell does that not count for a penalty?!"
"Yes, Sterling! Stop him!"
"No fucking way they actually score from there, man…"
"Southgate… when I catch you, Southgate…"
Yes, they were. (Sadly.)
They had a plan, really. Him and the boys: Reyna, Reiner, Jadon, Erling, a bunch of around-their-age-promising-overseas-players-at-Dortmund boys. The plan was to crash said Erling's house and hopefully get wasted and rooted for England, whether because some (two) were literally English or some just simply wanted to see Italy lose.
The plan started to form when the team gathered together around the big telly of the club, watching Harry Kane score the second goal in overtime — beating Denmark and leading England to their first (FIRST!) Euros final (for men, still) — with Jude and Jadon, fellow Englishmen, hugging and screaming cheerfully in the background. And amidst all the congratulations, someone had suggested they have another watch party like this for the Finals between Italy and England, since despite all that social distancing and having to wear masks everywhere, this — watching with the team — had been fun.
Some were too eager to agree whereas others, mostly the Germans, shook their heads and politely (as much as a German could) declined, saying they would prefer to spend time with their families more. It does suck how Covid-19, despite being less severe now, still restricted their travel, led to most of them had to celebrate Christmas and New Year's Eve in a foreign land.
Jude was no different, of course. His first ever Christmas and New Year's Eve overseas at 17. Instead of bundling up with his brother, kicking around with his dad, and taste-testing broth with his mum. Crap, he missed them oh so terribly.
He only had his teammates to spend time with, and with practices on hold for the holidays, only the Euros to entertain himself with. Needless to say, he was one of the first to raise their hand for the next gathering.
So he and some of the Dortmund boys decided they would have the watch party (read "sleepover") at Erling's place.
Why Erling's, though? One might ask (particularly one Erling Haaland himself).
Who else has an entire comfy apartment not within three houses of rentner calling the police for noise complaints then, Erling? One would answer, logically.
Instead of staying near the facilities, their blond striker chose to rent an apartment about a 12-minute walk from there. In a fairly safe neighborhood with miraculously no sight of an elder within one mile. It's for the same reason the boys had decided to hold their usual gatherings here.
"I like the dorm with the guys just fine," Erling would say while doing that funny frown with his nose, "Just, Germans' dish… it can be a bit— bland," and add how he would often buy food and cook it himself or get deliveries from Norway — of all countries. Which, pot; kettle.
(Alright, British Jude Bellingham was in no place to comment on anything.)
In the end, the striker was always good at accepting a losing game. The group did spend Christmas on the streets together, in fact, before promising a few days later to meet up again to watch the match.
One way or another, ranging from "aww sorry pal, I feel like rooting for Italians now, don't wanna ruin the mood or anything, because you know how my mom is like half Italian-Mexico and my dad is like-" to "So sorry mate, coming down with flu last night, so I'm- *cough* oh GOD, MY LUNGS-", even "I just met this Beta fine as hell tonight, said she's gonna blow me if England wins so I'm counting on you guys tonight, amigo."
Thus, led to Jude showing up alone on Erling's front door, with one new text from Reyna. 'tis the season for giving and stuff, amirite? dw no need to thank us, pal.
Yeahhhh, he knew returning all those stolen clothes except one would come to bite him in the ass one day.
Luckily, Erling only raised a questioning brow and shrugged in understanding, inviting Jude in. Saying he "don't mind" and jokingly "gotta need someone to take care of in case you try to get drunk if England lose then".
It's official, the midfielder lamented, Jude Bellingham is not making it till 2021.
Yet, aside from his initial concern of not being able to keep it in his pants when alone, there are reasons why the two of them were the best of friends. Conversations, banter, and light jokes still flowed as easily as breathing.
It started when the flycam showing the entire Wembley stadium from above did Jude feel a bit wistful. It wasn't a pretty sight or anything, no, with widespread crowd chaos still happening outside the field.
Bunch of wankers.
But our English wankers. His mind sentimentally supplied.
He wasn't missing the hooligans, definitely not. Yet, he imagined being with his family, with the crowd, rooting for England men in their first final. Finally being able to feel the lively and enthusiastic atmosphere of the people in the stadium after so long must have been overwhelming and emotional, no matter which team.
Jude's blurted-out comment of wanting to be there (in the moment, he meant) seemed to pass over the blond's head, who then offhandedly responded he was taken there (the stadium) once at two years old. Hence, the beginning.
"Yorkshire-born lad now?" Jude asked teasingly.
"Sorry to disappoint, milord," Erling did his best attempt at a snobbish accent, which was still terrible – in this case very reasonable to earn another shove. "Oi- for I am a Norwegian at heart."
"But then… you could have played for England." Not a question.
"Yeah," Erling simply shrugged.
"But you didn't."
"But I didn't." The striker repeated, holding the other's gaze for a moment before looking back at the screen. "Southgate did contact me before the Euro qualifiers, you know? Since it would be my first time playing at senior level, after all."
"Even so, I have grown up in Norway for longer. I thought it would be better overall, choosing Norway."
"Overall?" Jude managed to stop himself from expressing a look of confusion in time.
"Mate, truly no offense there, but you have to realize there is a better higher chance if you choose to play for England." He fancied the Alpha — a lot, not enough to sugarcoat it though.
Norway hadn't gotten out of the World Cup qualifiers for 24 years now. Euros for 20 years since 2000, and that was with Erling playing in their latest qualifiers. Of course, no matter how brilliant and flawless a striker he is, he was just one man. It would be truly an unbelievable and honorable feat if he could ever carry Norway's national team to the group stage and beyond.
Yet, were he in England… That would be a different story entirely.
Jude couldn't help but think Erling would fit perfectly with the England squad.
Personality-wise, the chummy, (way too) candid Norwegian would easily gain the trust and friendship of anyone. The English team all seemed to be pretty nice lads, he could already list off a few names Erling would probably quickly hit it off with.
Strategy-wise, alongside Harry Kane, England would have two prolific strikers, both with amazing technical skill and finishing. They could well build a powerful 4-4-2 formation with Erling as the centre forward and Kane as the second striker.
Erling can wear it, an image flashed through Jude's head, England's number 9.
But every 9 would need a 10.
Number 10 — the attacking midfielder, the main link between the midfield and the attack. The one creating chances for the striker to strike miracles.
Given Erling's aggressive playstyle were he to be their centre forward, England would need a strong midfield operating with a single pivot to govern the centre of the pitch. A midfielder who is capable of both shielding the back line and breaking through defense with incredible passes to their strikers.
I can be that. A subconscious thought whispered in the back of Jude's mind.
I can be his number 10.
He was considered versatile enough — the number 22 on his shirt was the sole proof, fulfilling multiple positions on the pitch, playing well both offense and defense. He could make runs, dribbles, passes, all to assist Erling.
He was only 17 now. But if he worked harder, proved himself even better, would he be called up?
Together with Erling?
Just like in Dortmund now, from clubs to internationals, side by side, Jude assisted then Erling scored, naturally like clockwork. They would certainly make the same fantastic duo for England.
Would have. Since all were what-ifs and hypotheses. In the end, Erling still chose Norway and Jude could only play for England.
Alas, such a shame. Seeing how the 20-year-old Norwegian had been breaking records lately, the English fans and media would no doubt adore him in no time. Not to mention, the England team PR absolutely would be having a field day if they had the striker as their poster boy for the World Cup campaigns.
"Then all we need is an actual competent coach…" Jude mused, half-focusing on Southgate's currently questionable tactics.
"Perhaps so."
"Hmm?"
Erling's voice cut straight through Jude's thought, refocusing his attention back to the blond and the game state at hand. It seemed he was pensive over this matter more than he thought…
It took him a moment to realize that was Erling's response to his previous comparison. And a few more to also realize what he had said sounded quite insensitive and should be in 'Top 10 fastest ways to offend your crush' guide. Bravo, way to go, Jude.
"Erm- so sorry, mate. I really didn't mean to sound rude to you," he apologized, shifting his body a little to look directly into those blue eyes. If what he said did offend Erling, then it wasn't shown in his expression. "But they are undeniably stronger and have higher chances now with you on the team," added sincerely.
"Don't worry, all's good," the Norwegian shot him a smirk, head tilting to the screen. "To be fair, we have the same wins as England's in the Euro Finals after all."
And of course England let Italy earn a free kick.
"Oh fuck of- Again!?"
The good news was, what he worried would be an awkward "gathering" of two people — him with his crush, turned out to be a lovely, playful evening as they further deepened their friendship through chats and bonding moments.
The bad news was, they were bonding over England's looming defeat.
Throughout the game, Jude had somehow nestled himself completely inside Erling's hold — with his long legs draping over the blond's knees, head lying on top of his left shoulder, and having the other's arms settled lazily one behind his back and one above the thigh. Were it a different setting, them being walked in on watching porns would be easier to explain than their current compromised position.
(Jude likes to think it's a kind of "their thing", of which both openly affectionate players at heart found each other in Dortmund. It's why they are best buds after all.)
The Brit would certainly feel concerned by how intimate they were being and even guilty wondering whether he was exploiting Erling's kindness and friendliness. That was only if he could see through the growing frustration as they watched the 30-minute overtime come to an end, yet neither team came out on top.
The premise of spending time alone with his crush was getting sorer as the evening went by because now it all came down to the penalties and Jude was not drunk enough to deal with seeing England lose. Or, at all. Courtesy of said crush.
If the initial sleepover plans with the boys went through, he probably could have gotten away with getting wasted together as either celebration or consolation for England's results. However, Erling just recently decided he was going to be the responsible older one today and refused to let Jude even taste a sip before 18.
"You're not of British age to drink alcohol yet, Jude." Erling had gotten up from the comfy sofa to disappear into the kitchen prior to the shootout, leaving behind a pouting Jude. "I'll get something else for you."
"Mind you, we are in Ger.Ma.Ny."
Now, England was likely going to lose and Jude was definitely never going to get that beer. Which pretty fucking sucks. (Although, he wasn't going to say no to a warm cocoa handmade by Erling.)
It was getting harder to watch with the rising tension from watching both teams after the equalized first shootout. And as nice as a hot cocoa was in the blazing winter, it couldn't compare to magical beer that may or may not help you stabilize emotional breakdowns. Jude at this point decided he should at least try.
"Erlinho, mate, your hair is getting longer." Nickname, soft lingering tone, light hair touches — Jude was pulling out the big guns now. "Think you should- um, get a trim here or there real quick in the bathroom?"
"Nice try, The Belling." Man, he didn't even think about it. The blond, not sparing him a glance, only raised one hand to move the beer glass a little farther. "Face your misery sober now."
"Besides, you know what the great Zlatan personally told me? 'Never cut your hair because the strength is in the hair'. You're gonna have to get used to this look now, mate."
How splendid, Jude rolled his eyes. Now he really considered his chances of knocking off the striker to steal the beer. He didn't even get to have a proper send-off to that boyish, first-love, short-haired look of Erling. Jude sighed in his heart, he would undeniably miss how it had mesmerized him since day one.
(But long hair? Jude quietly admired from the side, briefly thought of the elves in Lord of the Rings. He's not exactly complaining…)
Right on cue, the whistle signaling the start of the fourth round forced Jude to return his full attention to the screen.
Rashford had hit the post in the third round, and now the number 20 from Italy just scored past Pickford. Unless Walker managed to stab it in…
Jude let out a loud, frustrated groan as the Italian goalkeeper made the successful save, securing their lead.
He let his head drop against the hard edge of the sofa, irritation clouding his senses as he struggled to break out of Erling's hold. He needed to get up and do something. Anything. Throwing tantrums or whatever.
Erling- unhelpful Erling, instead tightened his hold onto him.
"Drinking away the loss isn't good, Jude."
"Get off me, dude." Jude grumbled, pretending as if he wasn't the one crawling into the blond's lap in the first place.
"It's alright," huh. So the other's voice could grow even softer. "I'll lend you my shoulder to cry on in case."
And fuck dumb, stupid, blond Alpha who didn't know shit about reading an Omega's mood and needs. Fuck Erling Haaland who didn't understand anything but reasons and awful comforts. But fuck Jude himself even more because it was working.
He tiredly exhaled, feeling his tense shoulder drop as he leaned back in again.
Calmer now, he was fully aware of how ridiculous he must have sounded whining, pouting, acting spoiled to not-his Alpha like that. But Erling's sturdy hands were rubbing small circles along his shoulder and thighs whilst he let out his soothing scent to wrap around Jude's clearly distraught one.
It's sickeningly sweet, how caring he is to an Omega friend in distress.
(And to think, Erling's future mate would have this all to themselves... Lucky bastard.)
"Cheers, mate, I'll make sure to get all the best snot on you then."
Although he had anticipated the possible outcome when the penalties started, maybe even before that in the overtime, his heart still sank painfully when the whistle blew as Saka missed the final shot.
Completely baffled. All of those advantages in the early game now reduced to this disheartening result.
Another tournament, another lost trophy. He didn't cry but the urge was there. Biting his lip, he felt numb watching the cameras panning from the Italians celebrating to the England players' and fans' heartbroken expressions. Obviously, nobody would want to end the year with a disappointing national loss after all.
His phone on the table was buzzing with notifications and messages — most likely complaining, mocking, or checking up on him. Beside him, Erling remained silent, still not making any remarks but continued comforting him with his hands and scent. Jude was too saddened to say it aloud, though he tried to convey it through his scent and hoped the Norwegian knew how extremely grateful the Brit was at this moment.
He preferred this over the usual "heads up, you guys still won second place" or "just got a bit unlucky" consolation. Immediate block for anyone who dared to message him that.
(Although, knowing Erling, who might just worry he would possibly say something blatantly hurtful but ultimately true and only anger Jude even more, thus, decided to shut up completely. It was still very sweet and empathetic of him.)
"I've read articles," Jude started, breaking the silence, "and some friends messaged me, about rumors that Southgate is calling me up for this Euro."
Jadon, who got to play multiple matches in the Euro qualifiers already, told him directly at training too. Jude wasn't old enough to play in the qualifiers, but he was finally now for the main Euro event. With his impressive current showing in the Bundesliga, he thought he might be given a chance.
Clearly it wasn't enough.
Because despite every coach, analyst, fan, and media outlet out there knowing England could do better with a midfielder as promising as Jude Bellingham, they would never risk it in an Omega. Anyway, no matter his performances, if they ever lost, all criticism would be directed at the freshly Omega called up in his first senior games.
Absolute bullcrap. The idea of Omegas not being a good attacking midfielder on internationals has been proven wrong for those stubborn English for so long now — a prime example being Croatian star, Luka Modric. And Jude wanted to follow in those footsteps playing for England, he knew damn well he could.
"I would be so good… You know- right, Erl?" He blurted out, not trusting his voice not to break with the amount of bitterness building up in his throat.
"For England..." For you, he didn't say, if you had played. "If I was given the chance."
"Of course." The reply was instant, no hesitation found.
Jude choked up when he felt the arms around him tighten, bringing him even closer, and a soft kiss landed on his temple. "Our baby StevieG is gonna be the best midfielder England has ever seen, after all."
He burst out a laugh, of course Erling remembered that — the dumb nickname and the even dumber dream he once shared with the boys.
Dumb Alpha, he looked up fondly, God, I love him.
"Nah, not StevieG, the ultimate J.B, mate."
"Hate to break it to you, dude. You don't exactly have that singer-material to follow Justin Bieber's footsteps."
"Oh and apparently you do then, Mr. I-play-football-to-promote-my-rap-career?"
"Yeah, keep laughing. One day, I'll have my song playing at the World Cup and trending worldwide," Erling tried to ruffle Jude's hair as the younger was full-on laughing now. "You'll regret not asking me for an autograph sooner."
Jude was about to remark back when his phone rang. The ringtone was for his mother, which automatically meant his entire family was there as well. He contemplated just shutting it off since he knew what they were mostly going to say. But he still reached forward, out of Erling's side and stood up from the couch.
"Sorry, mate. Gotta take this. The whole family is checking up now. Mind if I borrow the bathroom a bit?" Okay, in case he did cry, he still wanted to keep his dignity in front of his crush, thank you very much.
Erling nodded in understanding, gesturing "go ahead" which Jude replied with a curt "thanks mate". He was about to move when the other called out, "Jude."
"Yeah?" He watched as the blond opened and closed his mouth immediately, figuring quickly what to say.
"Next time." Erling decided on.
It was short and crisp and no normal person would understand without context. Without understanding Erling Haaland. But Jude did.
You will definitely get called up for England and show them next time.
Jude resisted the urge to let out a choke again, settled for a nod and "thanks a lot, Erling", before turning tail to the bathroom.
Yeah, it's gonna be difficult explaining to his family how he found the love of his life at 17.
He walked back to the living room 30 minutes later, after making sure there weren't any traces of tears. No, he didn't cry. His eyes just got a little teary after an emotional conversation with his family in which he confessed how much he missed them at this time and was bombarded back with lots of love and praise — the usual stuff.
His mind was clearer than before and he was filled with a new kind of determination now. He still had the entire day tomorrow to end the year on a high note (as much as one currently could). Then, on to the next year.
He sat back down on the couch next to Erling, who sent him a concerned look, implying to ask if everything was alright. Jude just gave a small shrug, reassuring, "Nah, it's nothing."
The silence stretched on for a while as the Norwegian kept scrolling through his phone, whereas the Brit picked up the cocoa earlier to finish it. Jude heard it then.
"Do you want to stay the night?"
Guess who almost choked on liquid.
"Pardon?" Jude managed to say after a coughing fit.
He raised a questioning brow towards the blond, wondering (hoping) he had heard that right. And yep, looking at Erling's cringing expression, he probably also realized how bad that sounded out of context.
"No, dritt- I mean- it's cold outside, yeah?" He hastily explained, very determined to ensure Jude would not get the wrong idea, right — always needs a reminder once in a while. "Or, I can take you back to the dorm if you want."
Now that he mentioned it, Jude was finally aware of the freezing world out there. Scanning around, almost forgot where he left his coat; he glanced outside and saw the snow still piled up on the roads.
But the heat inside the house felt so warm and cozy, though. Seemed like the rush of the game really caught up with him. (Or maybe it was from being alone with Erling, wrapped in Erling's scent, in his arms…)
It was what he obviously should do. They originally had a plan, him and the boys — even if the boys were a bunch of arses that ended up ditching him because they thought they knew best but clearly didn't and were probably having fun altogether somewhere now; all of them would "sleepover" at Erling's place. But there was only him now, alone with Erling.
Hence, again, that's why he should go. Getting up, thanking and saying goodbye, and walking out the door, or maybe letting his crush walk him back if he indulged himself.
Yet a question nagged at the back of Jude's mind.
"What would I want?" Jude tilted his head, genuine curiosity towards the other.
Because whether staying the night sleepover at his place or going back with him, it didn't make sense why Erling was offering them.
The Norwegian blinked at him, likely did not expect to be asked that. He gulped, looked down for a moment before staring back at Jude again. "Even if you are back at the dorm, most of the guys aren't gonna be there."
"I don't think any English person right now should be alone and sulking on the holidays. So, I- I thought you'd not rather- want to be alone, for tonight." He ended meekly.
And Jude felt like he had been seen through, because Erling, always kind and caring, had looked at him and said them as if it was obvious, as if Jude would really be miserable and sulk later in his room, alone, far from home. Would he?
…Maybe. And maybe he wouldn't mind having company for the night.
"I don't really have much to do in this house, but we can play FIFA or watch movies- whatever is fine."
"Subtlety is a lost art form on you, Erling." Jude commented teasingly, enjoying the way the blond's ears clearly reddened a bit.
Erling huffed, retorted. "Better than- what's the English phrase for it, the 'walk of shame', no?"
Jude burst out laughing, oh cheeky arse! Now where did this giant Norwegian learn that from?
"Choose your next words carefully if you still want to pick up an Omega, mate." He clicked his tongue, smile widening in mirth as he earned back an unexpected snort and chuckle from Erling.
Jude really loved it. Their usual playful flirting.
However, he could also recognize it. The way the striker's thumb was scrolling down at a rapid speed, but his eyes were undoubtedly distracted, not actually reading anything. The way his body seemed a bit strained and how he was actively avoiding looking anywhere but directly at Jude.
Gosh, he's nervous. Jude realized, smiling so wide and delighted. Oh my days, the big baby Norwegian is genuinely nervous.
He took in the scene, it was so rare he caught Erling like this after all. Guess the Alpha truly didn't want Jude to get the wrong idea, huh?
Even the midfielder himself didn't understand why he was pretending to drag on the long suspense to torment the blond right now. He was obviously not going to say no to an almost dream-comes-true invitation like that, not to mention his Omega was noisily cooing nonstop in the back of his mind the whole time.
Well… perhaps he would prefer not to come off as too eager, at least.
"But lucky for you, mate. Can't say I dislike the approach." Still grinning, Jude slipped in closer to Erling once again. He tilted his head, brown eyes gazing up to meet blue eyes finally focused back on him. "Alright, if you truly wouldn't mind, then thanks for having me, Erl."
"Yeah, I-"
"Although…" humming, Jude continued before the other could. Such blue eyes though, 'if winter was a color, it would surely be this'. "As long as you promise to still respect me in the morning."
"I will."
Thick accent, answered loud and clear.
There was something undecipherable in Erling's expression now. The immediate response took Jude a little aback, making him wonder if the older even actually caught the references at all. He considered explaining the joke but ended up not to, for fear of breaking- whatever this moment was.
Blinking slowly, Jude was the one pulled away first, not trusting himself to not do something extremely stupid if he continued being this close to Erling and breathed in that pine and frost scent. Like- stealing a kiss, or worse, confessing.
"Come on then," changing the subject, the Brit settled to sit more upright on the couch, hand gesturing at the telly. "I bet you still play Jamie Vardy as your centre forward."
Their FIFA matches lasted some time, around 9 o'clock (by the way, the round where he beat Erling 8 - 1 was won fair and square, no matter what that oaf was going on and on about). Towards the end, the loud grumbling from both stomachs was getting harder to ignore, resulting in Erling offer to cook up some quick dishes. And how much of a fool would Jude be were he to refuse that?
Dinner was warm and hearty, thank God for a Viking's appetite. Their easy-flowing conversations about their holiday traditions, one way or another, led to Christmas movies and bloody hell, "What the fuck do you mean you've never seen 'Love Actually', you Yorkshire-born geezer?"
Of which, after washing the dishes, leaving them once again on the couch but with a blanket on top, and the most famous, hallmarked Christmas movie of the English on screen.
"You have a crush on Alan Rickman?"
"Mate, the whole England growing up has a crush on him!"
"Really? The guy that hates Harry Potter?"
"IT WAS ALL AN ACT!"
Somehow, led to Erling successfully convincing Jude to watch the annual NRK Christmas film, 'Reisen til julestjernen' — the 2012 remake one. Erling claimed he remembered the remake being very good at the time, causing Jude to mentally roll his eyes, resisting the urge to comment that was definitely nostalgia talking.
"I've never watched any Norwegian film before this, I think. Aside from- maybe some couple episodes of 'SKAM'?"
"Oh right, the main love interests are pretty good, yeah?"
"You also watch 'SKAM'???"
"Everyone in Norway does, Jude."
They finished their second film a few minutes before midnight. Jude was pretty sure he could get just one more movie before he was done for the night. The thought "Even after 12, it won't be New Year's Eve yet" flashed through his thoughts, inexplicably making him suddenly feel jittery.
New Year's Eve... A familiar title thus came to mind. If they had already watched two Christmas movies tonight, then how about…
"Ever heard of 'When Harry Met Sally'?
"…Which Harry?"
Well, now he knew where Erling's romantic senses not learned from.
'When Harry Met Sally' was his parents' go-to American movie. They first saw it on tivi during their anniversary while expecting Jude, they watched it again on the exact day 2 year late expecting his brother. Since then, it had become somewhat of their tradition to rewatch it often on anniversaries. Yet with how special that movie meant to the couple, it certainly was strange how Jude only ever watched it twice: the first was shown to him too young to remember anything since it was before his brother even born and the latest was a few scenes when he was 11.
Regardless, he still remembered the overall. The plot was the usual popular rom-com trope back then, with a simple idea — 'Can Omegas and Alphas ever just be friends?'
The concept is completely dated now, needless to say. Of course, they can. In modern days, friendship does exist naturally between Omegas and Alphas and Betas. Plus, love between same secondary genders is much more common than in the 90s, not just Beta-exclusive couples anymore. Nevertheless, the movie is no doubt still a rom-com classic, a perfect watch to prepare for the New Year.
'You realize of course that we could never be friends.'
'Why not?'
'What I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that Omegas and Alphas, especially men and women, can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.'
'That's not true. I have a number of Alpha men friends and there is no sex involved.'
'No you don't.'
'Yes I do.'
For someone who seemed to either scare babies when bored or hunt blood on the pitch and might only be attracted to his same secondary gender, Erling was being oddly focused. His nose would do that silly wrinkle when he found Harry said anything stupid; his eyes and mouth seal shut in a very dramatic way when he felt second-hand embarrassment; or how he would unconsciously whisper or sigh something in his native Norwegian in that soft and- entranced? tone during an intimate moment on screen.
'So, you're saying that an Alpha can be friends with an Omega they find unattractive?'
'No. You pretty much want to nail 'em too.'
'What if THEY don't want to have sex with YOU?'
'Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.'
'Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.'
'I guess not.'
'That's too bad. You were the only person that I knew in New York.'
Jude couldn't blame Erling for his fascination though, since he was particularly doing the same. The film was definitely more adult-rated than he remembered and only now understood why his mother kept switching the channels every ten minutes, or the way the current blond next to him tried to steal glances discreetly at him as if worried he might be some kind of untainted, delicate glass slipper.
Oh please. He admitted American's hook-up culture was quite different from what he grew up with around Birmingham, but it was only different, not wilder. Weren't the exhaustion from the day and sleepiness quietly catching up to Jude, he would surely give the Alpha a smack for his nonsense impression.
Overall, besides the extremely predictable plot line of the main characters falling in love, the film did a great job in dealing with the ideas of friendships evolving into relationships and was already considered quite progressive at the time. The stereotypical, ideal friendship and relationship between men and women, Alphas and Omegas; their realistic separation, all somehow still relevant almost 20 years later. He remembered his mother once watched an interview with the directors about the initial ending being a sad one, with the main characters not marrying at all, but they later scrapped it.
'I've been doing a lot of thinking, and the thing is, I love you.'
'What?'
'I love you.'
'How do you expect me to respond to this?'
'How about, you love me too.'
'How about, I'm leaving.'
Illogically, Jude imagined himself in Sally's position ("Yep, I can see the resemblance" "Fuck off, mate"). Sally, a beautiful white fictional American woman, and… Jude, whose love life in reality was nonexistent.
Sure, they had nothing in common except their secondary gender; then again, he was always told to be more sentimental than most. He found himself sympathetic over Sally's late-night wonder about how things would be different were she not an Omega. He supposed that was just the phase every Omega had to go through, some with more acceptance than others.
Jude was only one in many.
Ambitious, almost 17-year-old Jude Bellingham, recently showing signs of a soon-presenting Omega, alone in his room battled with uncertainty and hopelessness for his future, would have truly been desperate enough to do anything for a miracle. For a Genie to magically pop up claiming to be able to grant Jude's wish and then his secondary gender would be anything but an Omega.
Despite understanding it would not be the end of the world, that Jude would still nod his head in a heartbeat.
However, this Jude — barely one year older — would ponder for a few minutes.
He would think about how rewarding it was when he defied expectations; how reliable he was on and off the pitch, breaking up tensions and providing comfort; and how undeniably proud he felt as he earned the respect of teammates and rivals alike. How he got the chance to find camaraderie and understanding in so many lovely people; much thanks to his Omega nature.
'Doesn't what I said mean anything to you?'
'I'm sorry, Harry. I know it's New Year's Eve, I know you're feeling lonely, but you just can't show up here, tell me you love me and expect that to make everything all right. It doesn't work this way.'
'Well, how does it work?!'
'I don't know, but not this way.'
He would think about Erling Haaland. Think about the way an Alpha who is bigger and a head taller than him does exist. The way Jude had to tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek properly while the giant effortlessly enveloped and pampered him. The way there was still hope for a hopeless romantic like him, after all.
He would think about all the ways he loved this one Alpha and was loved in return. Even if theirs weren't the same.
And unlike his younger self one year ago, he would ask the Genie to ask him again three years later.
Jude could already picture nine out of ten Genies would declare Jude as one greedy ass wanker and never to appear again. That one patient Genie, if he was lucky enough, would probably also do exactly as the others, except asking him one more question, "Is this Alpha really that worth it?"
"…Jude? Y' alright?"
Lying comfortably next to the unrequited possible love of his life, feeling the Alpha's hand resting on his waist warmly — almost protectively, imagining waking up blissfully to this face as his mate every morning… Jude wouldn't be able to answer the Genie.
"Mm…bit sleepy."
Because he didn't know, he couldn't be sure.
But he did know, that if Erling ever decided — even drunkenly, even as a dare — to kiss somebody right at this moment-
Jude really, really needed it to be him.
'How about this way? I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your scent on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve.'
As the screen showed the legendary confession screen, Jude was yawning as loudly as ever, body reaching its limit for the night. Erling's hand, which now moved to rubbing his nape at a soothing rhythm, did nothing but made him fall asleep quicker.
Thankfully, he stayed awake a few seconds long enough to finally hear the famous quote before his mind drifted off completely. He thought he imagined a murmur and a soft press on his neck.
'I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.'
-.- TBC -.-