Archive of Our Own ^beta

“A little bird told me,” croons a detached voice, giving Reo the scare of his life, “that you’ve finally put on your big boy pants and started copying real players.”

“What the fuck,” he says, as Shidou steps out of the shadows like some sort of D-tier cartoon villain. “Exactly how long have you been standing there for?”

Shidou ignores him. “So is it true? Can you copy Itoshi Sae?”

Reo raises his eyebrows. “You played against me. Shouldn’t you know?” Shidou appears genuinely thrown at the suggestion.

“Why would I look at the midfield?”

“Dude.”

“Just answer the question, ube head.”

Young and naïve, Reo does not realise the significance of what he’s about to do. “Yeah, I’ve been testing some passes,” he snaps, and Shidou’s naturally unhinged smile turns borderline demonic.

“I always knew I liked you, Mikage!” Reo rolls his eyes and starts heading for the door. He seriously doubts that. Before today, if someone asked him if Shidou would let him die for an extra portion of rice, he’d have put some serious money down on the rice. “Play football with me.”

“I refuse.”

Shidou narrows his eyes. “You refuse.”

“I’m not humouring your creepy Sae fetish. You can fuck right off.”

“Jesus Mikage, were you always this fun or did that stick up your ass get permanently lodged there when that Nagi guy dumped you-“

“He didn’t dump me!” Reo screeches, swivelling around to- okay, trying to hover over Shidou worked out a lot better in his mind before he remembered they were the same height- “It’s not like he was my fucking boyfriend or whatever, he just-“

“So what, he like, friend dumped you?”

Reo opens his mouth to deny it, closes it. Tries again, but no words come out. Instead, he bursts into what sounds mortifyingly close to hysterical giggles.

“Yeah,” he finally concedes. “Yeah, okay, I guess he friend dumped me.”

The ensuing silence gives Reo just enough time to consider whether sharing his personal crises with Shidou Ryusei of all people constitutes a new low or is just part of a protracted period of abject luck. In a universal gesture of male solidarity, Shidou raises a hand and clasps Reo’s shoulder.

“That’s rough, man,” he says with a comforting squeeze, clearly aiming for sympathetic but landing closer to completely fucking terrifying.

Reo will deny it forever, but he squeals.

“Want me to beat him up for you?”

“What?! No!”

The worst part of the ordeal is that it leads Shidou to the absurd conclusion that him and Reo are friends now. He chatters incessantly. He sends him videos. He sits with him at breakfast. They have a whole fucking table to themselves because Shidou would never let something as insignificant as the early morning dampen his enthusiasm for threats of bodily harm, and Itoshi Rin is glaring daggers at them from across the mess hall.

(“Stop copying my brother.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’m going to rip out your fucking intestines, you lukewarm piece of shit.”)

Reo just wants to be left the fuck alone. Shidou couldn’t have given less of a shit about him for the entirety of the Second Selection, but one conversation about Nagi and they’re apparently bonded for life. As if Reo needed further proof that friendship was cursed.

“Let’s go,” singsongs Shidou, slapping his back so hard Reo starts choking on his okayu.

“When you say let’s go,” begins Reo, still coughing his lungs out. “Who exactly do you mean?”

“Funny, Mikage. C’mon, it’s corner kick time. You watched my goal, yeah?”

“See that is funny, because I was actually going to the data room to look at it a bit more closely-“ the grip on Reo’s shoulder turns vice-like, and Shidou smiles with all his teeth.

“We’re practicing corner kicks,” he says pleasantly.

“…We’re practicing corner kicks.”

“Hell yes.”

Because doing anything like a normal person is just not an option for Shidou, he attempts to place his chair back with a volley kick. Resigned to the fact that cleaning up after the demon is his life now, Reo picks up the fallen chair and starts collecting their trays. Near the drop-off point stands Nagi, who having arrived to breakfast sporting a gigantic cowlick and with a luxurious two minutes to spare, is helping himself to utensils. He’s literally swaying with sleep, but the world wishes for Reo to suffer, so Nagi somehow still zeroes in on him.

“Hey Reo, Rin said he’s going to kill you. Maybe be careful.”

Reo is too pissed off to even care how insultingly blasé Nagi sounds. He mock-salutes him and heads back to Shidou, internally cursing the entire Itoshi family and thanking Isagi for his hard work ensuring Reo will at least have his untimely demise as a warning when Rin finally decides to start going through his Death Note.

Nagi’s eyes trail after him.

Keeping an eye on Kurona, Reo taps the ball, and steps into Sae. He keeps his hips loose, limbs tucked close to his body, and as Kurona dashes he switches feet, knocks the ball forward, and breaks past. He scissors past the next player to reach the penalty area, Shidou shimmering in the corner of his vision. He stops abruptly, almost tripping a rushing Niko, and as the rest of the defence reacts, he launches the ball upwards in a lob pass. The high, lovely arc curves over their heads, and Reo smiles fiercely.

“Jump, demon.”

And Shidou does, dashing seemingly out of nowhere and launching himself further off the ground that should be humanely possible, kicking the ball with a jumping volley and sending it spinning straight into the goal.

Satisfied, Reo drags the back of his hand over his forehead to wipe the sweat off his brow.

“Phew. Nice assist,” Chigiri trots up from the midfield like a good, normal teammate. Near the goal, Shidou, who is neither of those things, howls, running full speed at where Reo and Chigiri are standing.

“It’s a mating call!” he screams.

“What,” says Chigiri.

“It’s a mating call,” Shidou repeats, eyes wild and still chasing the afterimage of Sae. He throws himself at Reo, nearly tackling him. “Mikage gets it!” Across the field, Nagi trips over nothing.

“No,” says Reo, and then again louder, because he absolutely, completely, decidedly refuses to get it.

“Yes,” bites Shidou, bringing their faces very, very close together. “Now do that again, but this time explode!” Reo peels off Shidou’s arms and ducks under him, freeing himself. “You are so weird and off-putting.”

“I love you too, babygirl.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

Shidou laughs, excitement still palpable, and Reo can’t help but smile, too.

“Fine, fine, let’s go again.”

“You’re playing with Shidou a lot lately,” says Nagi, eyes trained on his cleats as he does up his shoelaces.

Yes, Reo thinks, he’s obsessed with me because I can copy Rin’s asshole brother.

If it were anyone else, he would have said it because fuck Shidou and fuck his nonsensical ‘no, no, like that but shinier!’ comments. But it’s Nagi, and they are still awkward around each other, so he doesn’t. Instead, he tries really hard to not think about how depressing it is that barely a few months back he wouldn’t even have considered not telling his best friend anything.

He fails. Spectacularly. He hasn’t even contributed to the conversation and he’s already feeling depressed.

“Yeah?” Reo swallows, brushes his hair out of his eyes. “What about it?”

“Nothing,” Nagi’s response comes a beat too quick to pass for true nonchalance, but he doesn’t say anything after and that seems as good an end to the conversation as any, so Reo shrugs, returning his attention to straightening his socks.

“You’ve just… been playing a lot with him recently.”

That brings him pause. Nagi hates talking, and consequently Nagi hates repeating himself. He’s now studiously pulling out his shoelaces again, but unlike everyone else in this stupid facility, Reo has eyes.

(“It’s only because you think he’s like, your football red string of fate.” Kunigami told him, only 20% mocking, right before he got kicked off. “And because you stare at him so much. Man’s a stone.”)

“He’s good,” he says carefully. His words feel uncharacteristically clumsy, thrown off-balance by the tension in Nagi’s shoulders. “He’s not… he’s not good like- well, he’s not you, but he is good. And he won’t shut up about wanting to play with me, so…”

Before the League, Reo might have meant that as a dig. He probably would have wanted that to hurt. Now, he knows Nagi wants to play together, just like he does, but he also thinks it’s bad for them, that they need to grow separately in order to win together. Nagi, who is partial to instant gratification, did not like this. Reo, who hates making Nagi upset, didn’t like it either. But he stuck with it anyway, because sometimes he looks at Nagi, the one true unpolished diamond in Blue Lock, and he’s terrified of how good he could be and how badly he once fumbled bringing out his potential. Reo wants to be good, good enough for this team but mostly good enough for Nagi, and whilst Shidou wants to play with him, he doesn’t need him to improve. The implications of this sink slowly into the locker room silence, and he winces.

“Do you like playing with him?”

This is now shaping up to be the longest off-field conversation he’s had with Nagi since their now popularly labelled ‘friend breakup’ where neither of them is angry or crying, and it’s about fucking Shidou. Go figure.

“Do you?” presses Nagi.

Bewildered, Reo runs a hand through his hair. It’s… unclear. Shidou is powerful, fast, annoying as fuck, and dripping with an almost dark glee you’d never find in Nagi. He plays too hot to handle, but he forces Reo to measure up, to think, floods his mind with ideas of what he knows they can do. Shidou wants perfect playmaking and passes, and Reo wants to learn how to give that, so they both take what they want from each other.

The most shameful truth of it all, though, is that he’d missed it. Not working for something but rather with someone, for someone, the vertiginous shot of delight when both sides synched up and a play just flowed.

Most of all, he missed Nagi. He missed Nagi desperately.

“I do,” he says finally.

Nagi’s fingers twitch, and he messes up the knot for the third time. He’s never been good with football shoelaces.

“Hey, hey, you’re gonna snap your ankle like that. Here, let me-“ almost by instinct, Reo strides to the bench where Nagi is sitting and drops to the floor, starts pulling his shoelaces out.

“…Reo?” he freezes. What the fuck, what the fuck. Nagi makes it clear that football aside, he does not care, yet he’s still fussing over him like an overbearing mother, honey tie up your shoelaces, you’re going to trip!

His face is on fire, but he swallows the shame and begins to methodically thread the laces through the eyelets. “Can’t believe you haven’t learnt to do this yet,” he mutters, risking a peek at Nagi as he’s finishing the left foot. The sheer relief painted on the other boy’s face is so blatant that Reo is momentarily stunned, and Nagi opens his mouth like he’s about to say something-

“Seriously?” scowls Chigiri, eye twitching.

Of course. Of course Reo has not yet met his Blue Lock-mandated quota of daily humiliation, so of course Barou and Chigiri have walked right in.

“A king who can’t do his own shoelaces is no king,” Barou declares to the whole room and then, looking straight at Reo, “Have some self-respect.”

“Fuck off!” Reo wants to scream, he wants Barou to die, he wants to throw Nagi and his stupid shoes into the deepest, darkest pit and then he wants to scream again – but Nagi, who had schooled his features back into a mask of nonchalance, tilts his head and raises his right foot at him.

And because Nagi has some sort of fucked up hold over him, or maybe because Reo really does have no self-respect, he starts doing that shoe as well.

Chigiri’s silence drops on him like a five tonne stone and even Barou appears too disgusted to further engage. When he’s done, Nagi honest to God smiles, and it’s a testament to how much time Reo has been spending with Shidou lately that it’s only the fourth freakiest thing he’s seen this week.

“Thanks,” says Nagi, briefly resting his cheek on Reo’s head. “You always did them up best.”

Reo is a second away from finally living up to Shidou’s expectations and self-combusting. As Barou and Nagi head out to the pitch, the silence grows heavier.

“So…”

“Don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re less scary when you’re with Reo,” Yukki informs him, unceremoniously dumping his tray on the table and taking a seat. “It’s all the amorous gazing,” agrees Chigiri, fresh with sarcasm. “Although it’s also a bit gross.”

“Die,” growls Shidou, but for once there’s no real heat behind the words. He magnanimously allows Aryu, Nagi and Karasu to also join them, and as the table starts buzzing with chatter and the steady noise of cutlery clinking against plates, his initial indignation gives way to disbelief at how wrong someone could be about football. “That uncoordinated mess of grunts you call a team has no chance of making the playoffs, Karasu,” he sneers. “Are you stupid? Are you blind?” Yukki coughs, and Reo snorts into his lunch.

Despite Shidou occasionally addressing various people at the table as ‘slime’, he doesn’t threaten to maim anyone, and it ends up being the most normal mealtime Reo’s had since Shidou decided he’d do as a Sae stand-in until he could get his hands on the real thing. He feels surprisingly at ease – he’s still hyperaware of Nagi in the corner of his vision, but for once he finds the quiet presence calming rather than looming.

People start clearing out, and Reo tries to finish the remains of his lunch as Yukki and Aryu stand up.

To his right, Nagi makes a show of pushing his almost untouched tray away, cutlery rattling. “Eating is terrible,” he says, plopping face down onto the table. “I’m tired.”

He wages a short, losing battle against his worst instincts.

“…Tell you what, I’ll catch up.” Yukki shrugs, Aryu majestically flips his hair behind his shoulder, and Reo prays for strength and turns to Nagi. “If you don’t eat, you’ll just be more tired.”

“I don’t even like yakisoba.”

“Nagi, you’re not a child. Finish your food.”

Mulish silence is all he gets for his efforts. Reo leans his cheek against his hand and sighs, staring at the back of Nagi’s head. His hair is always tangled, but it’s soft, almost thread-like, and he used to let him run his hands through it. In a move unearthed from a different era, Reo’s right hand hovers over the white tufts.

“You can pet my head, if you want.”

Caught in the act, Reo quickly withdraws his hand. “What, I have your permission?” he asks, guard immediately up. “You’ll tolerate it, just for me?”

“It’s not-“ for a second, Nagi sounds deeply frustrated. “Reo, it’s not like that.”

God, this is why he finds Nagi nerve-wracking. He makes him act in stupid, emotional ways that leave him feeling foolish, but he also can’t stop.

“You used to touch me all the time,” says Nagi, almost bitter. “Now it’s like you avoid it at all costs.”

Reo is so tired.

“I am sorry I snapped at you,” he says, no fight left. “But you shouldn’t put up with something just for my sake, Nagi.”

“I never put up with it,” Nagi’s face remains stubbornly buried between his arms. “I liked it.”

Reo’s mouth is suddenly very, very dry. The hall is almost empty by now, the last few stragglers focused on their food, but Reo sneaks a glance around them anyway before resting his hand on Nagi’s mop of hair. “I said I was sorry,” he says, conciliatory, rubbing circles into his scalp. Under him, Nagi melts.

The scene is achingly familiar.

“So, are you going to finish your food?” he chides gently. Finally deigning to raise his head, Nagi pouts.

“Will you feed me?”

“Feed yourself,” grumbles Reo, but his eyes soften. He pushes his plate at Nagi. “C’mon, I know you like gyoza.”

When they are told to do shooting drills, Shidou nabs Reo faster than you can say ‘world’s best striker’. After a few successful turns against the freaky AI goalkeeper, Nagi approaches Reo, who’s off to the side waiting for their next go and watching Rin and Hiori.

“I’m after Isagi. Can we try that fast pass you did last week?” In civilised training sessions, wall passers are designated, but Blue Lock prefers a free-for-all approach, all under the philosophy that true star players should be able to rally their teammates around their football. Predictably, Shidou doesn’t much like Nagi stealing his thunder.

“Paws off,” he intercedes, throwing an arm around Reo’s shoulders and smiling at Nagi in a way that perfectly communicates his intent to stab him if he does not back off. “Mikage’s my partner. Go ask Kurona or Karasu.”

Nagi’s eyes fleet between Reo and Shidou, trying to gauge the situation. He swallows, and his hands clump into fists. Shidou laughs at him. “You gonna fight me for him or what?”

“He’s my partner.”

“Sure doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing, boy genius.” Unconcerned, Shidou squirts water from his bottle into his mouth. “Better go beg someone for a pass, Isagi’s almost up.”

Reo deliberately doesn’t meet Nagi’s eyes, as he tugs at the hem of his glove, adjusting it. Nagi still stands there for a few seconds, before suddenly storming off. He ends up getting a pass from Kurona, and somehow fucks up his shot and sends the ball flying straight into the goalpost. It ricochets and slams full-force into the back of Bachira’s head, who lets out a screech. Reo stares, mouth hanging in horror. He’s never seen Nagi slip so close to the goal.

“Hey, what the hell was that!”

From their corner, Shidou watches the whole scene unfold with an air of knowing disdain.

“Are you sure he’s not your ex, Mikage?” he asks, and Reo is too busy being shocked to tell him to go stuff it. “He’s acting like a shoujo character.”

Before Blue Lock became his literal worst nightmare, Reo used to think it was fun. Challenging! Interesting! He got to spend all day thinking about football and playing with his best friend, what was not to love?

There’s still glimmers of that, occasionally. And it is undeniable that the other players, each with their individual brand of crazy, are intriguing and really fucking good at football. Yet despite how much he may like some of them personally, it is a competition, and Reo tries to remember that every single one of them would throw him in front of a rushing train if it meant getting closer to their goal. He doesn’t hold it against them – he would, too.

However, Reo is unfortunate enough to be locked inside this pressure cooker (by choice, mind you) at the same time as he is experiencing a level of emotional instability broadly equivalent to a shrapnel shell going off inside his chest cavity. His recent interactions with Nagi are for once not making it worse, but they are making it different and the new, crawling out of his own skin sensation almost makes him miss the shrapnel. Point is, he sometimes has to talk to someone, and since the one guy who saw him at his actual lowest has been thoroughly traumatised into a hateful mini-Noel Noa, he goes for Chigiri. In the relative safety of their dorm room, as the sprinter goes through the daily motions of looking after his knee, Reo spills.

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re way overthinking this.” With practiced ease, Chigiri massages ointment on his joints. “Nagi’s not exactly the thinking type, is he?” Reo nods. “It’s like his football, Nagi just reacts. You give him something, and he does whatever he wants with it. It’s instinct. So you need to stop thinking ten moves ahead, because that’s not the game he’s playing at all.”

“You’re saying I need to start thinking like an idiot.”

“If you want to be glib about it.” Chigiri taps his cheek thoughtfully. “I didn’t actually mean Nagi is stupid though. He’s just-“

“Incredibly thoughtless with people’s feelings?”

“Well, you know that better than me, but yeah, he’s selfish as fuck. Who here isn’t.” Well, at least Chigiri is self-aware. Satisfied with the coverage, he takes out a strip of bandages and begins unrolling it around his knee. “I was going to say, he’s just going with the flow. Also Reo, seriously, the first time I saw you, he was literally draped all over you. You’re fine.”

“That wasn’t anything! He just gets tired very easily!”

Chigiri gives him a sly look. “He doesn’t ask anyone else to carry him though, does he?”

That shuts Reo up. The idea makes him… very uncomfortable.

“Anyway, going from what you told me it seems like he’s taking a fair bit of initiative here,” at Reo’s incredulous look, Chigiri clarifies, “for Nagi, initiative for Nagi. That takes effort, and he’s like, the human embodiment of sloth. If he didn’t want to do something…”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

“Indeed.”

As Chigiri places his first aid kit under his bed, Reo leans back, hands behind his head. “You know, you’re pretty wise, princess.”

“Wipe the surprise from your tone. I’ve just spent half an hour listening to your boy trouble.”

“That’s not what this is at all!“

“The way you talk about him, it’s like he hung the moon,” Chigiri informs him, grabbing his toothbrush. “It’s almost more concerning if isn’t boy trouble.”

“Reo?”

“Ah, it’s just you – quick, come in before anyone sees.”

Nagi obediently closes the door behind him, but stays hovering by the entrance, uncertain. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, sorry,” Reo pauses the video he was examining, and sits up properly to look at Nagi. “Hiori said I could crash here for a bit, didn’t realise it was also your room. Are you changing? Want me to leave?”

“It’s fine,” Nagi fidgets. “Are you watching football videos? Why aren’t you in-“

“-the data room, with its million screens, slow motion replay and zoom?” Reo flops back on the bed, looking resigned. “Shidou keeps finding me there, and I’m tired of copying Sae.” He shifts his hips and kicks a leg up, vaguely mimicking the ultra-fast pass. “His style is so hoity-toity sometimes; it makes me feel like a prick.”

Nagi perks up, curious, and Reo thinks he’s about to ask how his style makes him feel which, seeing as he cannot come up with a way to phrase the answer that doesn’t make him sound either besotted or completely insane, is a bit of a damning question.

The three braincells Nagi dedicates to emotional intelligence are clearly working overtime today though, because he appears to read Reo’s discomfort and leaves it be. “Rin’s brother is a bit of a prick,” he offers instead, tentatively approaching and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Reo snorts. “Understatement of the century. And you were so far up the halfway line you didn’t even have to really deal with him. Imagine how I feel.”

“So, who are you watching?”

Reo grins, turning over to lay on his stomach so Nagi can see better, and rewinds the video with his thumb. “Bachira! I thought doing a Lavinho-style dribble would be cool, you know? But he’s too good and I’m not used to freestyle at all, so I figured I should start with someone closer to my level. Check this out.”

Nagi leans in to watch a miniature Bachira dance his way through the defenders. Reo hits pause just as he’s preparing to strike.

“Amazing, right?”

“It is cool,” agrees Nagi, inching forward. “You’re really amazing too, though.”

Reo laughs. “Right back at you, genius.”

“I’m serious. You can play however you want, and you’re so good at always knowing what to do.”

Reo can’t help the blush that rises to his cheeks. “It’s just a copy, Nagi. When I do it, it’s never as good as the original.”

Nagi is now so close Reo can count his eyelashes. “No one else can switch, though. We all have to always play like ourselves.”

He moves, and Reo is fast, but he’s not as fast as Nagi, who flips him on his back and pins him down, resting the full weight of his body on him. His breathing is strained, and his heart is going a mile a minute, but he lets Nagi lay on him anyway, wisps of white hair tickling his cheek. Ever so slowly, Reo places his hand on the small of Nagi’s back.

“Don’t play with anyone else but me,” mumbles Nagi, face hidden in Reo’s neck. Reo gives a disbelieving huff.

“Nagi, I’m a midfielder. That’s fucking selfish even for you.”

“I just don’t understand why you have to like it.”

“You cannot be serious. You literally told me you liked playing football with other people more.”

“That’s different,” Nagi’s hand slides further up his neck, tangling his fingers in his hair, and Reo’s breath hitches. “They’re not my partners.”

The next thing is said so quietly, he almost misses it.

“What?”

“Don’t like anyone else but me,” whispers Nagi, and the ghost of every word on his skin makes Reo shiver all the way down to the bone.

The door bursts open.

As a reminder, the world still hates Reo, and Reo with Nagi most of all.

“Mikage, you told me he dumped you!”

Rage truly gives you untethered strength because Nagi is 190 centimetres of pure muscle, yet Reo still throws him off like he weighs no more than a ragdoll.

From the floor, Nagi falters. “I… what?”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP.”

“Hey Reo, sleep with me tonight.”

Reo promptly starts choking on his water, and Shidou looks so goddamn pleased with his own existence Reo thinks he’s begging for a punch in the face.

“Mikage, you dog. You didn’t tell me you were that kind of friends,” Shidou leers, loudly. “Carnal friends” he adds for good measure, because Shidou is a generous person who wants to make sure ignorant observers, meaning everyone else in the fucking locker room, can understand the context.

Nagi somehow maintains his composure and levels Shidou with an indifferent stare that on him is the broad equivalent of a death threat.

“Stop yelling. Reo is my best friend,” Reo’s heart swells for a second before promptly plummeting down to his feet, “of course we’ve slept together.”

Chigiri looks like he’d rather eat everyone’s sweaty socks than continue to exist on the same plane as this conversation, Kunigami’s better instincts appear one push away from winning over his wildcard training and decking Shidou, and Niko looks annoyingly unsurprised by the turn of events. Everyone else stays very, very still. Shit, even Barou is listening in.

Fucking Nagi.

“You wouldn’t get it. It’s a partner thing.”

“Like in the legally binding way, or…?”

“It’s a partner thing,” Nagi insists, stubbornly refusing to look at Shidou. “Reo, let’s go.”

“I can’t possibly be the only one getting the subtext here.”

“Reo?” urgency is bleeding into Nagi’s tone now, and he stares pleadingly at Reo with his huge, grey eyes. What the hell is he supposed to do with that.

“…let me just shower first.”

Shidou starts cackling. “Oh yeah? Make sure to clean your ******* before he ***** *** * ****** *** **** ***** ***!”

The room is collectively horrified.

“Shidou, shut the fuck up!” snaps Reo, grabbing Nagi by the arm and bolting away. “Did you really have to do that in front of everyone?” he hisses.

“A statement play can really change the flow of the game,” Nagi replies, utterly unrepentant.

The thing about relationships, is that what you want is not always what you get, because what you expect may not be what is expected of you, and therefore not what is given. And the thing about Nagi and Reo, is that they’ve always expected very different things from each other.

(“What if there’s someone better than me?” asked Nagi, “Wouldn’t teaming up with them instead be better?”

“I’d never do something so cold-hearted!”

“Eh? I wouldn’t mind though.”

Spoiler: Reo did mind.

“Promise me, Reo,” Nagi had insisted, “Stay with me until the end.”

So when Reo said, “I want the power to be the one best striker in the world,” that might have been a betrayal.)

You see, back home Nagi had a cactus because he wanted companionship, yet Reo had never really considered that maybe Nagi missed him, too.

Nagi is sat on his bed when Reo arrives to his room, and everyone else looks similarly ready for lights out. Hiori, comfortably settled, pauses his scrolling through training stats to offer a smile which Reo returns, grateful that most of Nagi’s roommates were not there for Shidou’s abominable display.

Barou, the sole witness, stands with crossed arms in the centre of the room. He levels Nagi with a severe stare. “Listen to me, you miserable waste of air. There will be no funny business.”

“I wouldn’t dare, king.”

“I’ll fucking end you,” says Barou, but looks approvingly upon Reo’s neatly folded towel and clean slippers.

His presence goes otherwise unacknowledged as he walks up to Nagi and gently bumps his leg with his knee. “Ready for bed?”

In lieu of an answer, Nagi slides under the covers, then turns to look at Reo expectantly. He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward, but Nagi pats the space next to him and Reo obliges. He feels stupid for feeling embarrassed, because Nagi was telling the truth earlier – they’ve done this countless times, and at Blue Lock even. Nagi always complained about sleeping alone, said it was too cold. He gingerly slips into bed and Nagi throws the covers over their heads, forming a protective shroud around them. Everywhere, it smells like Nagi – like ocean water and Blue Lock’s standardised shampoo, and Reo is momentarily overwhelmed.

As the lights go out, some shuffling can be heard from outside their cocoon, as electronics are plugged into charging sockets and people settle into their beds. After a while, everyone’s breathing starts to even out, but Reo’s brain is way too wired to even attempt sleep, never mind actually achieve it. His entire body feels like its covered in needles, too acutely aware of the boy next to him. Shit. He is going to be exhausted tomorrow.

Nagi’s fingers, almost timidly, ghost over his stomach, and Reo goes very, very still.

It’s dark, and it’s late, and maybe that makes Nagi brave.

“Everyone thinks needing you makes me weak,” he whispers, curled by his side. “Agi, Ego, even Isagi,” he plays with the edges of Reo’s cotton shirt, the pads of his fingers like feathers against his taut abdomen. “But they’re wrong.”

Reo forces down the strange heat pooling in his stomach and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Nagi, you don’t need me,” he says, dismayed. “You’re a miracle. You’re going to be the best player in the world.”

“But I want to do that with you,” Nagi replies, stubborn. ”We’re going to win the World Cup together, aren’t we?”

“Sure, sure” Reo huffs out a laugh, “I just…. I don’t want to bring you down. I don’t want you to be bored.” And he’s so, so sure he would be, because Nagi is golden, and Reo is… well. He’s just Reo.

They both grow quiet after that, and Reo closes his eyes, attempting to calm down. He takes a deep breath, and then another. “It’s not that I need you to be the best,” Nagi tries again, voice so small it feels almost vulnerable. “That’s what no one gets. It’s just that I think that together, we could be even better than that.”

Nagi’s fingers tighten around his waist, and Reo twists like he’s been punched in the gut. The bed gives a loud squeak.

“Whatever you’re doing, stop right now!” roars Barou, “I said no funny business!”

“We’re just talking!” face on fire, Reo bursts from under the sheets, furiously glaring in Barou’s general direction.

“Like hell you are!”

Reo resentfully sinks back into the bed, and Nagi pulls him closer, tucks his chin over his shoulder. When Reo hesitantly shifts to rest against his chest, Nagi hums a little, low, and quiet.

“Welcome back, Reo,” he murmurs, starting to doze off.

The first time Reo manages to score with a copied move, it’s against Nagi. He steals the ball off Karasu and feints a pass, drawing him into a block and sprinting past. As he approaches the penalty area, Shidou is sidling up to his left, trying to get past Aiku. However, today Reo is playing Rin, and Rin shoots. He kicks with the outside of his foot and the goalie dives, but the trivela bends, inevitable, into the goal.

Breathing hard, Reo blinks once, twice. Training matches are nothing like real ones – his team doesn’t rush to jump him, there’s no celebration, no screams, but Reo is almost thankful for the quiet. He can score, he can. He’s also, kind of thankful for Rin being in another pitch right now, because Reo quite likes being alive.

He feels a hand ruffle his hair, bringing him out of his revelry.

“Football is a game played by eleven people,” Shidou says, sounding like he believes exactly none of it. “Fucking pass, Mikage.”

Reo smiles, sharp as a knife. “If you want a pass, earn it.” Shidou’s eyes widen a little, glinting dangerously, but he looks amused. “Watch me, babygirl.”

“I told you not to call me that!” Shidou, already walking back to position, gives him the finger.

After the practice match, Nagi meets him at the halfway line, and throws his arms around his neck.

“So cool, Reo,” he says, clinging to his neck and turning boneless against him, forcing Reo to hold him up with both arms around his chest.

“Hey, stand up! You’re making yourself heavier on purpose!”

“I am not,” says Nagi solemnly. “Did you see I scored too?”

“I saw.” Reo pulls his head back to squint at Nagi, and strengthening his grip on his right hand, uses his left to push Nagi’s sweaty hair away from his forehead. “Only once though. And you’re still heavy.”

“I have been lifting.” He whistles, impressed, and Nagi’s hand grabs at the nape of his neck, almost caressing the too-short hairs that escape his ponytail. Reo suppresses a shiver. “Carry me?”

“Fine, fine, but only because your goal was good.”

Reo squats and as Nagi climbs onto his back, he slides both hands under his warm thighs to hold him in place. Ignoring how sweaty they both are, Nagi happily rests against Reo’s head, and he forces his mind to remain blank as Nagi runs his index finger up along his neck, almost as if testing for something. For the second time, Reo tries not to shiver.

After a few days, everyone starts to get used to it. It’s like they were all waiting for the next Reo and Nagi explosion, but to the untrained eye, minus the football, it’s almost like they slipped back into their old dynamic. The laughter and conversation do come easier, the closeness apparent, and neither of them contain their desire to spend time together anymore. However, there’s still a hesitation, when Reo touches Nagi. Not because he’s terrified it will be rejected, but rather because there’s something almost electric that runs through him when he does, and he’s not sure he wants to acknowledge what that is.

They also sleep together more often now, and even Barou has begrudgingly come to accept it, mostly because Reo picks up after Nagi. Having both managed to nab the first turn for the showers today, they are now sat in companionable silence on Nagi’s bed, Reo on his tablet and Nagi playing a game on his phone.

“By the way, Reo,” asks Nagi, almost too casually. “What did Shidou mean?”

Reo’s attention is currently on a pitch diagram as he tries to think through a complicated play. He briefly considers the question, but Shidou says a lot of shit, so this really could mean anything. “Mean with what?”

“When he said all those things about us sleeping together.”

Reo's blood goes cold. He sets his tablet down, slowly, and then turns to pluck Nagi’s phone out of his hands and look him dead in the eye to make sure he understands. Nagi doesn’t even complain about losing his game, which in itself is suspicious.

“This,” he tells him, waving his hand in a vague circular motion to gesture at whatever twisted conversation Nagi was planning on having, “is not happening. I am not explaining how sex works. Go watch some porn or ask the nurse. There is no way you don’t know what he meant.” There really is no way. If anything, Shidou was too explicit.

Nagi fidgets.

“I know how sex works,” he says quickly, the shadow of a blush dusting his cheeks. “Just, why would he think that’s what we are doing?”

“I’m-” Reo’s throat feels uncomfortably tight right now. “I’m not sure.” That’s a massive lie. Of course he knows. In an attempt to shrug off the topic, he forces out a laugh. “He was just trying to get under your skin. Ignore him.”

That answer does not go down well. Nagi’s brow furrows, and he dips his tongue out once, twice, to moisten his top lip. “Have you… thought about it?”

“W-what?”

“About us,” says Nagi, now obviously blushing. “Doing that.”

Reo lets out a shuddering breath and scrunches his eyes shut, tactics completely forgotten. God, this was not happening. He suppresses the impulse to cover his ears with his hands.

“Why are you asking me this?”

Nagi doesn’t say anything, but he cups Reo’s cheek gently, turning his face towards him.

When he opens his eyes, Nagi is staring at him, quiet and pleading and like he wants, and Reo can’t help himself. He reaches up to grab a handful of Nagi’s hair, and lunges with his mouth. Nagi lets out something that sounds a lot like a whimper and wraps his arms around Reo so tightly it almost hurts. The kiss is awkward, at first. It’s painfully clear Nagi has never done this before, but his lips are soft and he holds Reo in place anyway, stubbornly kissing back. He coaxes his mouth open and pushes his tongue into Reo’s mouth, angling his head just so, and now it’s Reo who lets out a whimper. Nagi runs his tongue over the top of his mouth and presses in closer, closer, almost toppling them over, and the only word Reo can think of is greedy.

He doesn’t care. As far as he is concerned, Nagi can have whatever he wants, and if he wants him, if he really wants him… well. He licks into Nagi’s mouth, sinking his hands into his hair and pulling, as the other boy splays his fingers over his ribcage. He probably can feel Reo’s heart, pummelling like it’s about to burst from his chest.

When Reo catches Nagi’s bottom lip between his own, Nagi moans against his mouth, and Reo thinks he’s going to disintegrate.

A door slamming in the hallway sends him careering back into reality, and he tears himself away from the kiss.

“That’s- We can’t- The others will be back soon,” he gasps, desperately trying to calm his breathing.

Nagi’s pupils are huge and he’s panting, lips cherry-red and shiny with spit, and he looks like he’d like nothing more than to kiss Reo again. “I don’t care,” he rasps, and leans in again. Reo twists his head, and Nagi’s wet lips slide against his jawline. He groans, digging his fingers into Reo, and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind.

“Later?” Nagi asks hoarsely, sounding like he’s begging, and Reo’s throat is so dry he can only nod in response.

Nagi lets go and falls back onto the bed, resting his left arm over his eyes.

“I have… thought about it,” he admits, breathing still uneven. There is a pause, like the hitch just before a confession. “Out of everyone in the world, I thought about this only with you.“

Reo is saved from answering by the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway. He dives under the covers, back to the door and facing Nagi, and pretends to be asleep. Nagi doesn’t say anything and doesn’t remove his arm from over his eyes, but Reo can still see his throat bob, and his lips press into a thin line. Before the others start trickling into the room, he slides an arm out from under the sheet and skates his fingers along Nagi’s right arm, slowly, leaves his hand just brushing the other boy’s. Nagi lets out a shaky breath, but he smiles, and it’s golden.

The second time Nagi kisses him, he does so under the covers - short, secret, and sugar sweet. Before they go to sleep, he tangles their hands together.

Nagi kisses him all the time now. On empty hallways, effervescent. After showering, indulgent and warm, when he cages Reo against the edge of the bath just to kiss him slow and deep. When they share a bed, a peck before he sleeps. It always leaves Reo just as delirious, even if he does wonder at the number of cameras Ego has installed around the facility, and their exact location. He avoids all the ones he knows about, and they are no longer streaming live, but he’s… a bit worried. However, they don’t get told off, it was never in the rules, and he doesn’t let it affect his football – he plays with Shidou, he passes to Yukki and trades ball with Karasu – he envisions the best play in his head and sometimes it includes Nagi, but often it doesn’t.

When he does synch up with him though, that’s special. When Isagi gets into his hyper-competitive, deranged-asshole mode he calls it their ‘springtime of youth bullshit’, but whatever it is, it burns brighter than any fire and it feels amazing.

Right now, Reo also feels amazing. He thought nothing could ever be as good as playing with Nagi, but now, pinned inside a bathroom stall with Nagi’s mouth on his neck, he is starting to rethink that.

Left hand tangled on his hair, Nagi sucks greedily just above his collarbone, pausing to gently lick over the now sensitive spot. Reo lets out a frankly undignified sound, knees weak, and Nagi's fingers pull to twist his head further right, giving him easier access. Reo feels like his brain has short-circuited, and the only thing he can think of is Nagi, Nagi and his hands and his mouth on him.

As Nagi drags his teeth over his throat Reo hisses, and having had enough, grabs his face and pulls him up into an open-mouthed kiss. Nagi kisses back with enthusiasm, sliding his tongue into Reo’s mouth and pressing his whole body against him, further wedging Reo between himself and the wall and almost lifting him off his feet. Attempting to stabilise himself, Reo wraps an arm around his shoulders, but slides his other hand under Nagi’s practice shirt to run his fingers up and down the line of his spine.

"Ah," mutters Nagi, in between kisses. "You're so-" Still not removing his mouth, he angles his body to create enough space between them to also sneak a hand under Reo’s clothes. Something hot and sharp pokes insistently against his abdomen, and a dizzying sensation swoops through his gut. Experimentally, as Nagi rubs circles into his hipbone, Reo rolls his hips.

Nagi groans, dropping his head onto his shoulder. The circles becomes harder, more insistent, and distantly, the sensible part of Reo’s mind tells him it’s going to leave a mark, but he does not care. He rolls his hips again, this time slow and deliberate, and Nagi’s already shaky breathing almost shatters. “Fuck,” he gasps, and bites Reo’s shoulder hard enough to bruise but can’t quite conceal the noise that escapes him.

Reo is about to try again but Nagi stops him, catching his lips in a searing kiss and resting his hand warm against his side. When he pulls away, he cradles Reo’s jaw carefully, staring at him through thick lashes with such unmasked devotion Reo thinks he’s going to die. It’s serious, and heavy, and too much, because Nagi and Reo have always had the ability to hurt the other like no one else precisely because they’ve always been much more than either can put into words to each other.

“Reo,” Nagi pants against his mouth, fingers dancing around the waistband of his shorts. “Can I?”

His skin feels hot enough to sublimate, hot enough to melt off his bones.

Reo nods.

“Holy shit, Mikage,” exclaims Shidou. “Did you get into a fight with a rabid animal? Or did that idiot take eating out as a literal concept?”

“I fell off the bed, okay? Nagi kicks in his sleep.”

Shidou looks almost impressed by the brazenness of the lie.

“You cannot seriously expect anyone to believe that.”

Reo elbows Nagi on the ribs. “He fell off the bed,” he begrudgingly adds.

“You’re both a fucking disgrace. Those are love bites.”

“They’re not love bites-“

“But if they were,” says Nagi, jumping in to ruin Reo’s life, “they would be the love bites of partnership.”

Shidou openly gawks at Nagi, who merely juts his chin forward, daring him to say anything else.

It’s a battle of wills and inexplicably, Nagi comes out on top.

“I… have a turtleneck somewhere,” Shidou reluctantly tells Reo, extending the white flag. However, he wouldn’t be Shidou if he wasn’t also incredibly mercenary, so he adds, “Play Sae for half the game and it’s yours.”

Reo sighs, “Deal.”

As Shidou shuffles off to get his shirt, Reo heads towards Nagi, who’s walked off and is now staring at the guys beginning to pepper the field.

“Well, that was horrendously uncomfortable.” Reo sits on the grass next to Nagi and throws his friend a look. “Any thoughts?”

“I think,” Nagi replies, almost dreamily, “we should do that again sometime.”

“When you say do that,” Reo says carefully, wanting to kill the terrible possibility Nagi was talking about their verbal spar with Shidou, “what exactly do you mean?”

Nagi gives him a look full of simmering heat, and his eyes flicker from his lips to his bruised neck, “You know what.”

Something inside him is soft, soft, soft. “If you’re sure.”

“I’ve always been sure.” Nagi places his hand next to Reo’s. Their pinkie fingers brush, the smallest point of contact.

“Replication is important,” he tells Reo, resting his head on his shoulder.