Chapter Text
The stadium was still screaming when Ness finally escaped it. Reporters crowded the hallway outside the locker room, cameras flashing every few seconds, voices overlapping in a blur of questions and praise. Bastard München had won, and the world wanted Michael Kaiser. As always. Ness slipped past the noise and pushed open the door to the empty treatment room. The silence hit him immediately. No cheering, no cameras, no teammates arguing over the match. Just the hum of the fluorescent lights. He sat down on the examination table and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The game replayed in his head anyway. Kaiser’s goal. Isagi’s assist. Kaiser’s expression afterward. That was the part that wouldn’t leave him alone. The door opened. Ness looked up too quickly. Kaiser stepped inside, still in his uniform, hair damp with sweat, blue eyes sharp even in the harsh white light. He closed the door behind him without a word.
“You disappeared,” he said.
Ness tried to smile. “You had reporters waiting for you.”
“And?”
“And I didn’t.”
Kaiser stared at him for a second longer than necessary, then walked closer. The room suddenly felt much smaller.
“You’ve been avoiding me since the match ended.”
“I haven’t.”
“You have.”
Ness looked away first. That was answer enough. Kaiser stopped directly in front of him. “What is it?” The question should have sounded casual. Instead it came out quiet, almost dangerous. Ness rubbed his hands together, trying to find the right words. “Nothing.” Kaiser laughed once under his breath. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“Maybe I’m tired.”
“You’re upset.”
Ness’s chest tightened. Because yes, he was. Not angry. Not exactly. Just… displaced. For years, every pass, every movement, every calculation had revolved around Kaiser. Ness had built his football around him so completely that sometimes he forgot where Kaiser ended and he began. And tonight, for the first time in a long time, Kaiser had looked at someone else with the same intensity. Isagi. It shouldn’t have mattered. It mattered anyway.
“Kaiser,” Ness said softly, “did you enjoy it?”
Kaiser blinked. “Enjoy what?”
“Playing with him.”
The silence that followed was unbearable. Kaiser’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes sharpened.
“That’s what this is about?”
Ness immediately regretted asking. “Forget it.”
“No.” Kaiser stepped closer. “Answer me honestly.”
Ness laughed weakly. “You’re the one who should answer honestly.”
Kaiser studied him for a long moment, then reached out and tilted Ness’s chin up. The touch was surprisingly gentle.
“I enjoyed winning,” he said. “And I enjoyed scoring.”
“That’s not the same answer.”
Kaiser’s mouth curved slightly. “You’re getting bold.”
“Maybe I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice things.”
For a second, Kaiser looked genuinely surprised. Then he smiled.
Not the dazzling smile he used for cameras. Not the cruel one he gave opponents. Something realer.
“I noticed you watching me.”
Ness’s breath caught.
“I always watch you,” he admitted before he could stop himself.
The words hung in the air. Too honest. Too much. Kaiser’s expression changed instantly, amusement fading into something unreadable.
“Ness.”
He said his name so softly it almost hurt. Ness looked down. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For making things weird.”
Kaiser was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed, stepped between Ness’s knees, and said, “You really don’t understand, do you?" Ness looked up again. Kaiser was close enough that he could see the tiny droplets of water still clinging to his hair, the faint flush across his cheekbones, the way his eyes had lost some of their usual sharpness.
“When I play with Isagi,” Kaiser said, “I’m trying to surpass him.”
Ness swallowed.
“When I play with you…” Kaiser’s hand slid from Ness’s chin to the side of his neck. “I’m trying not to lose you.”
Everything inside Ness went completely still.
“Kaiser…”
The kiss interrupted him. It wasn’t sudden so much as inevitable. Kaiser leaned down slowly, giving him every chance to pull away, and Ness hated how desperately he wanted this. The moment their lips met, all the tension he’d been carrying since the match cracked open. Warmth. Relief. Want. Ness kissed him back immediately. Kaiser made a soft sound against his mouth, almost pleased, and deepened the kiss. His hand moved into Ness’s hair, careful but firm, while Ness grabbed the front of his jersey like he needed something to hold onto. The world outside disappeared. No stadium. No reporters. No Isagi. Just Kaiser, impossibly close and finally, finally looking only at him.
"A-ah... Fuck..."
Kaiser took Ness' moan as a go ahead. He leaned in, hands still in his hair, but Ness could feel something harder pressing up against him. Something thicker.
"H-hey Kaiser..."
"Shut up and don't speak."
Kaiser lifted his chin higher and slowly started kissing down Ness' stomach. Ness fell back onto a bench and grabbed Kaiser's hair.
"Kaiser... Not here, we c-cant..."
When they broke apart, both of them were breathing harder than before. Ness stared at him, stunned.
“You k-kissed me.”
Kaiser raised an eyebrow. “Observant.”
“Kaiser.”
This time his name came out half laugh, half disbelief.
Kaiser’s expression softened again. “Did you not want me to?”
Ness answered by pulling him back down. The second kiss was messier. Less controlled. Kaiser seemed startled for a fraction of a second before he melted into it, hands finding Ness’s waist and drawing him forward until they were pressed together. Ness could feel Kaiser smiling against his mouth, and the realization made his heart race even faster.
“You’re terrible,” Ness whispered between kisses.
“So I’ve been told.”
“You’re arrogant.”
“Also true.”
“You make me miserable.”
Kaiser paused just long enough to look at him.
Then, with surprising tenderness, he brushed his thumb across Ness’s cheek.
“I know,” he said quietly.
The honesty in his voice stole the rest of Ness’s anger. Kaiser leaned in again, slower this time, kissing him like he was trying to apologize for every sharp word, every selfish demand, every moment he’d taken Ness’s devotion for granted. Ness closed his eyes and let himself believe it. When the kiss finally ended, Kaiser rested his head against Ness’s shoulder.
“You’re still staring,” he murmured.
Ness smiled helplessly. “Can you blame me?”
Kaiser laughed softly, the sound warm and unguarded.
“Careful,” he said quietly. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might start believing you actually know me.”
Ness reached up and touched the edge of Kaiser’s smile.
“I think,” he said, “I’ve been trying to know you from the beginning.”
Kaiser looked at him for a long second.
Then he kissed him one last time slow, lingering, almost impossibly gentle. And when he pulled away, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“Good,” he said. “Don’t stop.”