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Spain, 2022. Emi
Emi grins as the ball smashes against his outstretched hands and bounces off. He drags himself to his feet, hollering in victory and then taking a mocking bow and laughing when Lautaro cusses him out.
The training session is almost over and his body is thrumming with energy. They are going to have an early night to get ready to board the plane next morning, and Emi takes the last opportunity to soak in the heat of the Spanish summer sun, knowing that England will not be nearly as pleasant.
The velcro straps of his gloves make a satisfying crackling sound as he loosens them and takes them off, letting his hands breathe as he heads towards the changing rooms with his teammates.
Someone bumps into him and slaps his shoulder and, when Emi turns, he sees Cuti, grinning at him. “Good job out there. We’re gonna smash them!”
Emi smiles back, a little surprised when the alpha falls into lockstep with him instead of rushing off to jump on Licha or chat with Lea. His grin widens. “We absolutely are. I can feel it.”
He’s happy that things seem to have settled down between him and his teammates. It’s not that they had been treating him badly, or excluding him, but it had been awkward at the start. Emi was the second omega to join the NT in quite a while, and he was so different from Paulo that it had been clear that they didn’t quite know how to deal with him.
He was used to sticking out like a sore thumb. Omegas were supposed to be short and curvy and delicate-looking – even the footballers ones – and he was the complete opposite of that. He’d been towering over most of his peers as soon as puberty hit, and it had taken him until his early twenties until he’d bulked up enough to get over the gangly, awkwardly proportionate phase that had attracted the most vicious kind of attention.
Even then, though, he’d gotten used to the stares, to the jokes about his preferences, to the subtext of mockery and weird fascination present in most of his interactions with alphas. It hadn’t been especially bad with the NT, though – little “jokes” that Emi was so used to he almost didn't even register anymore, but they’d mostly just swung from defaulting to treating him as an alpha to making weird faces when they realized their mistake midway through some sordid recounting of their latest sexual escapades.
Emi knew how to grin and bear it, how to project confidence and a gregarious personality to make sure nobody spotted the chinks in his armor and discovered how to really get to him. It wasn’t all an act – he’s proud of his body, of the fact that it makes him an excellent goalkeeper, of his strength and his resilience – but it still hurt, the dismissal and the playful teasing that wasn’t so playful. Being made to feel as if he wasn’t omega enough.
It had been one of the reasons his dating history was spotty at best, and why it had taken him so long to figure out Leo was actually interested in him.
He winces as he remembers how he’d blown up on him once the subtle flirtations and appreciative glances had become too much to ignore. He’d thought he was mocking him – Emi doesn’t understand why, but alphas seem to get a kick out of flirting with him just to laugh in his face if he ever shows interest back. Or… he does know why, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
And Leo was important to him – at first an almost mythical figure, an idol, someone he admired immensely and whose approval he’d been so desperately fighting for as he settled into the team and then, after a while, they'd become friends, they'd become close.
The last straw had been something stupid and innocuous – a hand placed on his forearm, fingers stroking towards his wrist slowly as the alpha leant in with a small smile and complimented him, looking up at him through his lashes – but the humiliation of it had broken through his carefully crafted facade like a sledgehammer.
He couldn’t bear it when it was coming from him, especially because it had felt like being teased with something he so desperately wanted – every smile and touch and wink had his heartbeat quickening and his palms growing clammy.
Leo’s face had turned white as Emi took him aside, dragged him in an empty room and let him have it – an utterly embarrassing display of furious shame and bitten off accusations that makes him cringe if he thinks back on it – and after staring at him in shock for a couple of minutes, he’d stammered his way through apologies, shrinking back onto himself, his scent turning sour and embarrassed and a little panicked.
Emi had watched the small alpha scurry off with the unsettling, nauseous feeling that he might have misunderstood something, and then spent the rest of the afternoon panicking in his room as the reality of what he’d done had hit him – he’d just screamed at Messi, for something absolutely inconsequential. He'd fucked up badly, made a fool of himself, and he’d spiraled hard, plagued by the thought that he was going to get kicked off the team for good.
He runs a hand through his hair, a small smile tugging at his lips as he remembers the knock at the door that had come later in the evening, Leo’s bright red face as he thrust a small, kind of pitiful looking flower bouquet against his chest as soon as Emi had opened the door, and the way he had been fidgeting anxiously as he asked him on a date.
Emi had still been half-convinced it was a practical joke for a while after that – at least until they had ended up in bed together. The sex had been amazing, and the way Leo had touched him, looked at him… He had no doubt he was sincere, after that.
“What are you grinning at?” Cuti asks, his hand settling on his waist in that annoyingly possessive way alphas seemed to always do, even with him. He waggles his eyebrows. “Already thinking about how you’re going to celebrate?” His tone leaves no doubt about what he’s talking about.
Emi rolls his eyes, shrugging off his hand as nonchalantly as possible. “Sure,” he answers. “I know some good places to go in London after we win.” It feels cocky, to take the win for granted, but Emi really believes it. They are playing amazingly, and he’d watched Italy’s games. They can beat them.
Cuti laughs. “I bet. Gonna find yourself a hunk to bring home? Might be a little hard to find someone bigger than you, though,” he snickers, making a show of looking up at him.
Emi’s stomach twists a little, but he doesn’t let anything that’s not amusement show on his face. Cuti isn’t trying to be a dick, but it comes naturally to him, he thinks a little spitefully. He punches him in the shoulder, happy that he’s wearing scent dampening deodorant. It’s always a hassle when he has to try and make sure his scent doesn’t give his irritation or upset away so as not to get called too sensitive. “Shut up, you asshole.”
“Ohhhh maybe you like them small!” Cuti’s waggling eyebrows are back, and he’s leaning conspiratorially into him.
Emi cannot help but flush a little, suddenly wishing Cuti had gone to bother Lea. He’s not wrong – he loves the way he can tuck Leo into his side, prop his chin on top of his head when he’s hugging him – but he knows what this is, and he’d prefer not to go there today.
He and Leo haven’t gone public yet – this thing between them is still kind of new, and Leo is a very private person – but he knows the team has been catching on. Of course, their catching on hasn’t yet graduated to actually realizing they are already together, so it mostly takes the form of teasing Emi about his crush and how obvious he is, all with the undercurrent of isn’t it funny that you think you have a shot? that makes him want to punch things. Also, some very gross comments about “Captain’s rights” that make his eyes twitch.
He sighs. “Yeah, yeah. Haven’t you got anything better–”
Cuti cuts him off. “Like, for example… A certain Captaaaaa– Captain! Hello, we were just talking about you!” He cuts himself off and pulls completely away from Emi, blinking innocently to the side with a big smile.
Emi’s face goes even hotter as he turns as well, spotting Leo walking towards them. He groans under his breath as Cuti nudges him playfully, and he slaps his hand away.
Leo’s smiling and oblivious as always, face flushed and sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead. His scent washes over Emi like a wave as he gets closer – spicy and dark and delicious, making warmth pool into his pelvis.
“Hi,” he says. His eyes are fixed on Emi, but he spares a quick glance at Cuti. “I’m gonna borrow him for a while. We need to, uh… Go over some things for tomorrow.”
Emi hides a grin. It’s always fun to watch Leo flounder to find excuses and not manage to be even a little believable. They’re not needed anyways, because Cuti doesn’t seem to notice anything weird in Leo's behaviour.
“Sure thing! See you at dinner?”
Leo nods distractedly, and Cuti sets off whistling, walking into the corridor to join the others. A couple of seconds later, Emi hears laughter burst out in front of them, and feels their eyes on him.
He shrugs it off, and it’s easier now, when Leo is smiling up at him, looking handsome and happy and a bit tired from training. His hand settles at the small of his back, and Emi doesn’t mind it when it’s him. He presses back into it, instead.
He ignores that small pang of uncertainty that he always feels when he watches Leo rattle off an excuse to get some time alone with him, putting it out of his mind. It's fine, Leo's just a private person, it doesn't mean he's ashamed of Emi or anything. It doesn't, they're fine.
He shakes his head, focusing on the really important things. Like the glint in Leo's eyes. He looks down at him, smirking as he nudges their shoulders together. “You wanna talk about the game tomorrow?” he asks, faking interest.
Leo flushes, looking embarrassed. “Ah… not really? We can if you want to, though,” he rushes to say. The clack clack of cleats on tile echoes around them as they walk towards the changing rooms, and they must have slowed down because there’s no one around anymore.
Emi laughs. “Let’s not do that,” he breathes, stepping closer. He feels Leo’s fingers twitch against his spine, and watches his eyes darken. Seeing desire on Leo’s face when he looks at him always sends a thrill through his veins, and he realizes he’s wet already, just from that. He licks his lips, watching Leo’s gaze follow the motion almost like he’s hypnotized.
“I was thinking, we could–” Leo says slowly, coming to a stop.
Emi’s grin widens as he spies the half-open door of an empty room behind his back, and he grabs his shoulder, walking him backwards towards it. “That’s an excellent idea,” he breathes, interrupting him, and then he pushes him inside and follows him in.
Leo makes a startled noise as he staggers in, and then he laughs when Emi closes the door behind them. He reaches up to slide his fingers into his hair and pulls him down for a kiss.
Emi moans, chasing the heat of his tongue, wrapping his arms around his waist to pull him on his tiptoes. Leo doesn’t seem to mind – he never minds – throwing an arm around his shoulder to press up against him and kissing him deeper, and it sends lust rushing through him.
He smells so good, his pheromones filling Emi’s nose, his hands hot and greedy as they run down his back to grab his hips. Emi lets him down, lets the alpha maneuver him around, a little dizzy at the show of strength when Leo grabs him by the back of his thighs and hauls him up with a grunt to sit him on a cluttered desk.
The sound of something crashing to the ground gets swallowed up by Leo’s groan as he steps between his spread legs and buries his face into his neck, and Emi shivers, leaning on his arms and throwing his head back as Leo noses at his throat, letting him have free rein. The alpha's hands burrow under his shirt, caressing up his sides hotly before coming down again, and Emi thanks god that he remembered to shave and trim his hair this morning as his fingers hook into the waistband of his shorts teasingly before slipping inside.
He gasps as he feels them trace his pussy through the wet fabric of his boxers and he spreads his legs wider, trying to grind against them. “Leo,” he pants, the word turning into a soft whimper as Leo licks a stripe against his scent gland, tongue hot and insistent like he wants to wash away the artificial barrier that’s keeping Emi’s scent from filling the air between them.
“You smell so good,” Leo pants, teeth nipping at his collarbone playfully before he goes back to his throat, kissing a line up his jugular that has Emi’s cunt clenching needily around nothing, a gush of slick dripping out of him and making even more of a mess against his teasing fingers as they rub slowly at his clit through the fabric. “You’re so wet.”
Emi squeezes his eyes shut, fingers curling against the fake wooden surface of the desk. He doesn’t usually like when his lovers remark on that – he’s always embarrassed by how much there is – but Leo’s voice is not smug, or mocking. He sounds awed, and it just makes Emi want to wrap his hand around his cock and sink down on it.
His beautiful, big cock, that he can feel pressing insistently against the inside of his thigh, where he’s grinding against him.
“Fuck, c’mon,” Emi breathes, rolling his hips against his hand. “Get on with it.” He usually loves how much Leo likes to play with him, but they don’t have much time, and it’s driving him crazy.
“Sorry,” Leo laughs and then he slips his hand into his boxers, fingers running through his labia and collecting slick before he’s circling them around his clit.
Emi bites his lip, throwing his head back as his hips jerk forwards. Leo knows exactly how fast to go, and how hard to press, and there’s pleasure skittering up his spine, the sweet scent of his arousal bursting between them. Leo’s back to licking at his neck, nuzzling against his skin and panting as he grinds his cock against the inside of his thigh.
Emi wants to wrap his legs around him, pull him closer between them, pull him inside, but he settles for spreading them wider and pushing until his ass is half-hanging off the edge, toes pointed against the floor as he uses them as leverage to grind against Leo’s fingers. He lets out a strangled sound as they finally enter him, thick and lovely as they spread his cunt apart around them.
His eyes roll back into his head and his elbows buckle when they curl inside of him, a rhythmical, gentle motion that has his whole body flashing hot.
“Shit,” Leo gasps when he feels him go almost limp, and he wraps his free arm around his waist to keep him somewhat upright. The motion makes his fingers dig into that lovely, throbbing place inside of him, and Emi has to grip his shoulders not to fall flat on his back.
“Yes, yes–there,” he groans, and he can feel slick gush out of him with every one of Leo’s thrusts, until it’s sliding down his inner thighs and pooling in his boxers. Leo keeps going, and Emi follows his motions, rolling his hips and clinging to him as he spears himself back on his fingers, clenching hard around them.
He grabs Leo’s head between both of his hands and drags his face away from where he’s mouthing at his shoulder to kiss him, fingers fisting in his hair as he slides his tongue inside, tasting Leo’s arousal, his scent so potent and full of want as it invades his lungs that it feels like he’s breathing in fire.
Leo pants in his mouth, stretching up to kiss him deeper, his fingers moving faster and harder inside of him.
It’s quick and dirty and hot, and they are grinding frantically against each other, breaths shared between them, the fabric of their kits sticking together with sweat. Emi’s legs start to burn with the effort of fucking himself back on Leo’s fingers, and the only thing that’s keeping him upright is the fact he’s still gripping the alpha’s head tight, hanging onto him, and Leo is everywhere – inside him, his scent around them, his tongue in his mouth. His arm is strong and hard where it’s wrapped around the small of his back, his cock is hot and hard where he’s grinding it in the crease between Emi’s leg and his groin and then his thumb presses down on his clit just as he sinks a third finger inside of him.
Emi shudders, his back stiffening as he comes with a cry. He wraps his legs around him on instinct, yanking him closer and moaning when the harsh motion forces his fingers deeper inside of him, and Leo hungrily licks the sound out of his mouth, pulling them flush together. His hips twitch uncontrollably against the alpha’s hand and he thinks he may have bitten his lip a little too hard because he hears him groan, but he hasn’t got enough mind to care.
Pleasure rushes through him like a boiling wave, his clit throbbing and sending sharp stabs of white-hot sensations through his nerves as Leo’s thumb keeps rubbing against him, his fingers curled inside of him and dragging his orgasm out until Emi goes boneless.
Leo’s arm is not enough to hold him up by itself and, as he slumps back, he feels his ass slide off the desk, the surface under him wet with his slick. He yelps, a spark of self-preservation lighting up in his blissed out brain, and he throws himself forwards against Leo’s chest to avoid smacking his head against the wooden surface, clinging to him.
Leo grunts in shock and staggers back as he suddenly finds himself carrying all of his weight – Emi’s arms and legs wrapped tight around him – the alpha’s legs buckling under them as Emi keeps grinding against him, and he abruptly comes as well with a strangled cry.
They collapse to the floor in a sweaty, shuddering heap and Emi lands on top of him. His head is swimming, hormones rushing through him and limbs feeling like overcooked spaghetti, and he lets out a whimper when Leo’s fingers pull out of him to clutch tightly at his hip, slick and hot and slipping against his skin. He’s still groaning, a low, rumbling sound as his hips jerk up against him, dragging his spasming cock against his lower belly as his orgasm shudders through him.
Leo starts laughing before he even finishes coming.
Emi joins him, squirming until he can tuck his head under his chin, pressing his nose against his throat and breathing in the scent of satisfied alpha. His hips ache, he’s sure his ass is going to bruise, they are covered in slick and come, and he hopes to god Leo hasn’t pulled anything because the match is tomorrow, but he’s happy, and Leo is still giggling under him, breath wheezing as Emi’s dead weight pins him to the floor.
He rolls off of him with a groan, shivering as his overheated skin hits the cold tiles, and then he props his cheek against his palm, grinning down at him.
Leo’s all sweaty and mussed, eyes crinkled in laughter, his clothes sticking to his damp skin. He looks so fucking hot, and the sight makes Emi squeeze his thighs together, because by god, he wants another go.
After a while, Leo calms down, his chest heaving and his eyes light as he returns his grin. “Sorry for the unceremonious finish,” he pants. And then he smiles wickedly, bringing his hand up and sucking his slick fingers in his mouth. He looks proud of himself.
Emi curses, pulling his hand away and bending down to kiss him. He moans as he tastes himself on Leo’s tongue, sweetness clinging to his lips, and then blushes as he pulls away. “Maybe it wasn’t such an excellent idea,” he says, looking down at their bodies.
Jesus Christ, he hopes there is a bathroom nearby, because they are covered in fluids, and they reek of sex. He takes a deep breath, almost purring as he breathes in their mixed scents, his eyelids drooping contentedly.
Leo’s clean hand cups his cheek, and he laughs. “To be fair to me,” he says, his voice still a little breathless. “My idea was asking you if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight.”
Emi flushes bright red. “Ah,” he says, grinning sheepishly.
“Oh no, I think yours was much better,” Leo says, pulling himself up on an elbow as well and wiggling closer. His hand rests on the curve of Emi’s waist, stroking at his skin through the fabric. He smiles.
The way the alpha is looking at him makes warmth bloom in his belly, and it doesn't matter if nobody knows they are together – it doesn't matter if they never will – all Emi wants to do is curl up against his chest and fall asleep listening to his heartbeat.
But they are going to be missed soon, so he just kisses him – a quick, soft peck – and then drags himself upright instead. He reaches down to help Leo up, fresh arousal sparking in the pit of his stomach when the alpha stops while he’s still kneeling to bend down and lick away a streak of slick dripping down the inside of his thigh.
“Don’t start,” he mutters, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as his voice trembles. The heat of his tongue clings to his skin even as he pulls away.
Leo’s pink in the face but grinning as he gets to his feet. “So, about that dinner?”
In the end, the dinner idea has to be scrapped.
Scaloni has instituted a curfew, which means that Emi had waited until everyone had retreated to their rooms – and until Paulo had fallen asleep – to sneak out of the omega floor and into Leo’s bed.
Such a good idea, he thinks deliriously, mouth dropping open around a gasp as another slow, deep thrust pushes the air out of his lungs. He’s laying on his side, arms reaching above his head to cling to the headboard, Leo’s chest pressed to his back. His leg is hooked over Leo’s forearm, and he’s being held open as the alpha fucks him languidly, his cock sinking into his cunt with slick, obscene sounds.
Leo’s panting against his spine, and Emi smothers a giggle as he feels him grunt with effort. “Tired?” he teases breathlessly, squeezing around him.
Leo moans, hips bucking as he buries himself inside to the hilt. His arm is trembling, fingers digging into the meat of his thigh as he strains to hold it up. “Nope,” he gasps. “Could do this all day.”
Emi’s laugh turns into a moan as Leo redoubles his efforts. Fuck, he feels so good – thick and long and hot inside his pussy – and despite the way he’s struggling, he’s managing to keep a good rhythm going, his cock dragging deliciously against his walls, the position perfect to have the head press right against his most sensitive spots with every thrust.
It’s heady.
Emi has never tried out many positions during sex, too self-conscious about his size – and the fact that he often was bigger and heavier than his partners – to venture beyond missionary and doggy-style. Normally, hearing someone panting like they are running a marathon while fucking him slowly would make him want to claw out of his own skin, but Leo’s so transparently eager and delighted every time that it makes him want to try them all. And being semi-manhandled like this is hot as hell.
“God, so good, ah–” he gasps, fingers curling tighter around the metal rungs as he pushes himself back onto his cock, belly clenching as he feels him hitting deep.
“Nghr,” Leo growls, and he can feel the alpha's abs flex against his back as he fucks him deeper, harder.
Emi shivers, throwing his head back. They've been going on for a while now, and they're are covered in sweat, their skin sliding together sensually, and his whole body feels hot and sensitive and electric – especially between his legs, where Leo is burying himself inside of him, where he’s holding him open and exposed, the air cool and tickling against his swollen, twitching clit, slick gushing out of him wetly with his every movement. He’s so big that Emi can’t quite get used to the stretch, and it’s always so good, the weight of him inside making him clench spasmodically just to feel himself being pried apart.
“Fuck, angh–” Emi slurs, way past caring about the weird noises he’s making.
Leo huffs out a laugh, and then he makes an equally embarrassing sound as his hand slips and he loses his grip on Emi’s thigh. He stops, and Emi lets out a disgruntled, whimpery sound of protest.
“Sorry,” he snorts. He takes the opportunity as he catches his breath to hook his other arm under him, hand coming to press wide in the middle of his chest and pulling him against himself.
“You okay? Want to roll over?” Emi pants, secretly hoping Leo’s impressive stamina is going to show its face once more.
“God no. This is so hot,” Leo mumbles against his back, fingers dancing on his leg, smoothing down the length of it in a hot caress. He squeezes at the outside of his thigh, palm pressed warmly to his flesh. “Your legs are amazing. There’s so much of them.”
He sounds awed again, and Emi’s heart jolts. He clears his throat, his cheeks burning. “Don’t wanna put you out of commission, Captain,” he teases.
Leo laughs again, bucking his hips and making him bite back a whine. He can’t reach as deep now that Emi isn’t spread open anymore, but he’s still startlingly precise.
“Do I feel like I’m out of commission?” he gasps, swiveling his hips. “You feel amazing. God.”
“You’re like a backpack,” Emi sniggers. He winces a little right after, afraid he might have said the wrong thing. “A very hot and sexy backpack,” he hurries to add.
Leo makes an indignant noise, pressing his chin between his shoulderblades in retaliation. “How dare you!” he laughs. “Am I at least one of the big ones? Think of my pride before you answer.”
Emi twists as much as he can to look at him over his shoulder. Leo’s grinning, and he smells amused, and aroused, so Emi relaxes. He grins back. “You’re the biggest I ever had,” he says, widening his eyes innocently. When Leo laughs louder, his face flushing bright red, he makes a scandalized face. “Backpack, I meant. What a pervert you are, Captain.”
“Fuck you,” Leo says, still laughing, and then he pulls on his hair and reaches up to kiss him over his shoulder.
It’s awkward and messy, their teeth clicking together, and they are still laughing. Emi’s neck hurts, and he’s twisting himself like a pretzel to reach him, but the motion makes Leo’s cock stab into him, and his mouth is hot and his scent is dark and rich and making his mind go hazy as pheromones flood his system, and Emi really, really wants him to move.
“Move,” he pleads into his mouth – or against his chin, wherever he can reach. “C’mon big, strong alpha, fuck me.”
Leo makes a sharp, embarrassed sound, and his cock twitches inside of him. “Shut up,” he says immediately, eyes squeezed shut before he lets go of his hair and buries his face into the back of his shoulder. “Not a word.”
Emi laughs in delight. “Aww you like being called– ah! Fuck!” His teasing words turn into a garbled keen as Leo drives himself into him with all the vigour of someone trying to distract him from what he’d just discovered.
Emi grabs the headboard again, mouth dropping open as Leo thrusts into him, harder and faster than before, even if not as deep. His body is jostled forwards and backwards, and that just makes it hotter, the fact that Leo’s strong enough to almost press him flat on his belly even if Emi’s trying to keep his position, bracing his knee against the mattress.
When Leo slows down again, Emi whines at him. He’d been close, close enough that his clit is throbbing needily, swollen and sensitive. “Alpha,” he moans, half on purpose, half because his brain is dribbling out of his ears.
Leo makes a growling sound against his back, hand reaching for his thigh again and heaving it up.
Emi tries to help him, holding his leg up as he feels his fingers settle into position again, and he’s sure he’s going to have bruises there, tomorrow. It’s totally worth it, though, he thinks as Leo starts fucking him again. He cannot help for long, because soon, Leo’s cock is back to melting his brain, and his limbs go unresponsive.
He can feel him nuzzling between his shoulder blades, tongue tracing the knobs of his spike and lips sucking bruises into them, where they’ll be hidden by his shirt tomorrow. His hand wanders over his chest, cupping his pectoral, fingers playing with his nipples. They harden under his touch, and he rolls one between index and thumb, pulling a soft, shivery noise of pleasure out of his mouth.
He has slowed down again, but it’s just as good – deep and hard and perfect – and Emi reaches behind himself to grip his hair, rolling his hips against his thrusts. The alpha’s hand wanders from his nipples down his lower belly, pressing down right over the soft, vulnerable spot right above his pelvis.
Emi wails, arching back and making Leo grunt as his leg spasms in his grip, but he can feel himself being pinned between Leo’s cock and his hand, his cunt clenching as that sensitive spot is stimulated on both sides simultaneously.
“Fuck,” he sobs, rocking back into him.
Leo’s fingers press rhythmically there – once, twice, three times, gentle but firm – in the same rhythm as his cock spearing through him, heightening the sensation and turning the stretch of his dick inside of him into an achy, roiling burst of pleasure, and then they slide down, stroking through the curly hair before rubbing at his clit, spreading his slick everywhere.
Emi’s eyes roll back into his skull, and he goes rigid at the surge of staggering pleasure. The hood of his clit is pulled back by the obscene stretch of Leo’s cock in his cunt, and within seconds, the sharp overwhelming sensation of Leo’s touch sends him shuddering through an earth-shattering orgasm.
He turns his head into the pillow, biting into it to muffle his scream as white-hot pleasure rushes over him like an avalanche, dragged forwards and onwards by Leo’s fingers, and by Leo’s cock as it keeps dragging through the vice-like grip of his clenching cunt.
Leo’s cursing, but he keeps fucking him, he keeps stroking his slick fingers over his clit, pushing his pleasure higher and higher, pushing Emi’s body to the limit. His orgasm doesn't even have time to gentle into afterglow before he’s stiffening all-over as a second, even more powerful one spears through him, sudden and overpowering.
His mind whites out, and he’s gasping, twitching like he’s being electrocuted. His clit pulses and pulses, fire racing through his veins and hands going slack – dropping from the headboard and letting go of Leo’s hair. He can barely hear the alpha’s moans, he just feels him quicken his pace, feels his fingers gripping his leg tight as he pulls it higher and buries his cock inside him, once, twice more before he comes. He’s so sensitive inside that he can feel every twitch and jerk as his come fills him up, and it’s as glorious as it is overwhelming.
Emi doesn’t have enough strength to even open his eyes, so he’s shoved forwards on his belly when Leo drops his leg and slumps like a dead weight against his back. His face is buried in the pillow and he’s having trouble breathing because while Leo might be short, he’s heavy, but warmth is blooming through his body, spreading out from the pit of his belly to the tips of his fingers and toes.
He whimpers when Leo finally pulls out a couple of minutes later, feeling the hot gush of slick and come leak out of his cunt and drip over his throbbing clit, making him shiver. He rubs his face against the pillow dreamily, his skin tingling pleasantly, feeling like he’s made of melted goo. He lets Leo roll him on his back and wraps his arms and legs around him to pull him down, clinging to him and purring as he feels him press his nose against his throat, scenting him deeply. His cock is softening against his belly, wet and blood-hot.
They breathe together for a while, and then Leo rises on his elbows and kisses him.
He smiles groggily, feeling his thoughts take form again. The alpha’s back is sweaty under his palms, and he hugs him tighter, making a soft noise as their lips slide languidly together, the kiss shallow and slow and perfect.
He doesn’t protest when Leo pulls away and rises on his knees between his legs, and he doesn’t feel anything but utter contentment as he senses his eyes rove over him, taking him in from head to toe. He spreads his legs wider instead, no trace of self-consciousness left in his fucked out mind as he shows off, enjoying the way Leo’s mouth parts a little.
“You’re so beautiful,” Leo mutters, almost to himself.
Emi would have scoffed if it had come from anyone else, but Leo is so transparent in his admiration that he cannot help but believe him.
He shivers when Leo’s hands smooth up his legs, and then again – a little, harsher sound of surprise and arousal – as the alpha bends down and licks a stripe through the mess on his inner thigh. He closes his eyes, sighing happily as Leo licks him clean, his tongue soft and hot on his skin. And then he moans when Leo reaches his pussy, worming his tongue inside, where Emi is still open and a little sore from taking his cock.
The way the two sensations mix – soft, wet heat licking soothingly into him, the deep ache of having been well and thoroughly fucked – sends his mind flying, and he doesn’t realize he’s bucking up against his mouth until he feels his lips close around his clit and suck.
He whimpers, tossing his head to the side as the tip of Leo’s tongue traces delicately over the hypersensitive little nub, and then he looks down, his breath catching.
It never ceases to be the hottest thing in the world, to see Lionel Messi’s face between his legs, to feel his beard rasp against the inside of his thighs as his jaw works, to look into his dark brown eyes as they stare up at him, enthralled.
It doesn't take long before Emi is coming again, a sharp little cry torn out of his throat as he shudders. Leo keeps going, gentler and slower, because he knows how much Emi likes to tremble under pleasure so sharp and overwhelming that it almost hurts.
Emi’s hands come down to grip his hair, and he can feel his lips curving up in a smile against his pussy. He grinds against them, keening as he uses the hold in his hair to rub himself against his face, to rub his clit against his mouth and his nose, feeling his beard prickling deliciously against tender flesh.
His belly clenches spasmodically, breath leaving him in a heady rush as he comes a fourth time with Leo’s tongue buried inside of him, squeezing his thighs around his head as the alpha's nose grinds against his clit.
His fingers go lax and slip out of his hair, his legs splaying wide over the mattress, and his chest is heaving as Leo emerges from between his thighs with a gasp. The lower half of his face is wet, slick clinging to his beard, his mouth is red, and he’s grinning.
“I’m an amazing backpack, admit it,” he pants.
Emi groans, throwing an arm over his eyes and laughing shakily. His pussy is throbbing, hot and sensitive, and his belly is spasming randomly as his nerves misfire. “The best backpack. Multifunctional. Twenty stars,” he slurs.
Leo makes a pleased noise and slumps on top of him again, burying his face against his stomach and pressing a wet kiss to his navel.
Emi combs his fingers through his damp hair. His movements are groggy and slow, bliss singing through his nerves and the sweet haze of post-orgasmic hormones flooding him and making his eyelids heavy.
“We’ll win tomorrow,” he breathes.
Leo’s arms wrap around his waist, and he kisses his belly again. “ ‘course we will. We have you,” he mumbles, nuzzling against his stomach.
Emi’s chest warms. “Flatterer.”
Leo doesn’t respond, his breath slow and deep, and Emi realizes he’s fallen asleep. After a while, he follows him, fingers still buried in his hair.
England, 2022. Emi
They do end up winning, even if Emi hadn’t had that much to do.
The party in the changing room is wild, the music blaring loudly and sweaty bodies pressing together, dancing. Emi’s over the moon, and propriety seems to go out of the window, because nobody bats an eye at him and Paulo joining them instead of going to their own changing room. Scaloni lets them celebrate together, only shooing them out when things have calmed down a bit and people start actually taking their clothes off to go shower.
As they leave the main corridor, Emi has to swerve to the side to avoid Jorginho as he barrels towards them, coming from the direction of the Italy changing rooms, looking pissed. The alpha glares resentfully at them and mutters something in English about bitches knowing their place, still managing to shoulder-check him roughly as if he didn’t have the rest of the very wide hall to walk through.
Emi’s adrenaline is still pumping from the match and the celebration, and he bares his teeth at him over his shoulder, making a jerking-off motion and then holding up three fingers mockingly. Dickhead.
Paulo laughs, loud and bright as he catches sight of what he’s doing, and then he drags him away. Emi lets it go, too giddy still from the win to let the way the dickhead alpha is glaring daggers at the back of his head ruin his mood. The sounds of laughter and music slowly fade away as he and Paulo trudge towards the Omega’s changing room. The location of it makes it quite clear that it was an afterthought – a small room deeper into the building, irritatingly far away from the rest of the facilities.
He’s a bit tipsy and still full of adrenaline, the weight of the metal against his chest making him giddy with joy, and he finds himself almost skipping. Paulo is singing under his breath, apparently completely unbothered by the nasty encounter, his arms swinging and brushing against his.
Emi nudges him. “Congrats, goalscorer,” he teases, his voice a bit rough from all the screaming. “It took you what? Three minutes?”
The omega giggles, raising his nose in the air. “More like two and a half,” he says, buffing his nails against his shirt and grinning up at him with fake modesty. “I am the shit.”
Emi laughs, pulling him in a sideways hug. Their scent-dampening deodorant is wearing off, and the sweet smell of peaches hits his nose. Of course Paulo also smells like the archetypical perfect omega in addition to looking like one – delicate and willowy while still packing enough muscle to more than hold his own on the pitch. Emi’s gotten used to suppressing the petty stab of envy and jealousy every time he looks at him, and Paulo’s cheerful, devil-may-care attitude helps a lot.
Emi had been wary of him at the start. He’d met his fair share of omegas that weren’t much better than alphas in how they treated him, especially in football, where it was every omega for themselves as they were forced to fight for every scrap of respect they could get.
But Paulo had been just thrilled not to be the only one on the team, and he’d welcomed him with open arms, and even more open admiration as Emi had the chance to prove himself and show off. He’d been very helpful in the beginning, and Emi had a suspicion he might have been behind the way the team had accepted him so painlessly.
“I saw Leandro eyeing you up like a starving wolf,” Emi says, shaking him a little and grinning teasingly down at him.
“I know,” Paulo smirks, leaning out of his half-embrace to hook his arm around Emi’s elbow. He’d been working his magic on the alpha for a while now, and Emi had watched the whole thing develop with amusement. “He’s so pretty,” he says, relishing the word rolling on his tongue like it’s chocolate candy. “He’s almost prettier than me, that’s so hot.”
Emi guffaws. “I don’t think he’d like being called that.” He can just imagine Lea’s offended face.
Paulo snickers. “He shouldn’t spend so much time making sure his eyebrows are gorgeous arches of perfection then,” he shrugs.
Emi groans. He doesn’t want to be subjected to another monologue about the alpha’s sleek eyebrows, or his piercing blue eyes, or his pretty mouth. He steers the conversation towards safer grounds. “You’re finally gonna go after him, then?”
Paulo’s smile becomes wicked. “I’m gonna rock that man’s entire world, mark my words,” he says gleefully.
Emi grins. He bets. Paulo has a knack for doing just that, it seems – the amount of alphas drooling after him and following him around like puppies is hilarious. He doesn’t care about what people say about him – he goes and gets what he wants, when he wants it, and once he sets his sights on someone, he’ll be strutting around and sporting a smug grin of accomplishment in no time.
Emi envies his confidence and I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude the most. Well, that and his people skills, because the omega somehow always manages to part ways with his conquests on friendly terms – which greatly helps him make his way through the NT without fucking up the team dynamics at all.
“So I should expect to have the room to myself tonight?” he wonders out loud, excitement sparking in the pit of his stomach. He’d seen the way Leo was looking at him, and he knows exactly what’s gonna happen later, anticipation pooling hotly in his pelvis. He’s going to find out if his theory that Leo might be even better at fucking after winning a medal is going to hold up. Emi had been… fantasizing about it.
Paulo stops in his tracks, blinking up at him innocently. “Oh? Do you have something to tell me, Dibu?”
Emi’s face grows hot as he's jerked back to reality, and he stares firmly forwards. “Mmh. Nope.”
Paulo cracks up. “Come on now. Really? I had my suspicions earlier, but yesterday made it pretty clear. You reeked of him.”
Emi drags a hand over his burning face. He knew that had been a bad idea. The small sink in the nearest bathroom hadn’t really been enough to get completely rid of the evidence of what they’d done. “Well,” he says, his mouth opening and closing as he ponders whether to come clean or not. But his face gives him away before he can decide.
Paulo laughs delightedly. “I knew it!” he crows. “Goddamn, Emi! Up top!” He raises a hand for a high-five.
Emi sighs, slapping his palm against his and blushing. He’s not used to these kinds of talks – or, at least, he’s not used to participating – but he cannot help grinning. Especially because Paulo’s delight seems genuine, no hint of mockery in his bright, happy face.
“You broke the Messi wall of awkward and stilted politeness! That's impressive. You have no idea how hard I tried,” he laughs, unselfconsciously. “He didn’t budge. I was starting to think he was actually gay.”
Emi snorts. He’s torn between jealousy at the idea of Paulo trying to get in Leo’s pants and a sort of shamefully smug stab of triumph. Paulo is incredibly gorgeous – he’s everything Emi isn’t, everything an omega is supposed to be – and yet Leo had chosen him. He clears his throat, feeling guilty for the small, petty zing of delight at that thought, and he shifts his weight awkwardly as Paulo gives him a cheeky thumbs up.
“Now spill. I need to know, Emi." He stops in his tracks, standing to face him and blocking his path. "Is his cock as big as it looks?”
Emi flushes to the root of his hair, a squeaky kind of mortified noise escaping his mouth. He doesn’t dare to look him in the eyes.
“That’s a yes,” Paulo snickers. “Actually, you were kinda hobbling this morning… Had a good night yesterday?” He smirks lewdly up at him.
Emi plants a hand on his face and pushes him away, ignoring the amusement tingeing his scent as mortification floods through him. “Shut up,” he croaks.
“Come onnnn,” Paulo whines, making grabby hands. “Gimme the details!”
That’s the last thing Emi wants to do. “Oh look!” he says, making a show of patting his nonexistent pockets. “I forgot my gloves. You go ahead, be right back!” He turns on his heels and powerwalks away, ignoring Paulo’s spluttering laughter.
He stops when he’s halfway back to the main changing rooms and he’s sure that Paulo has lost sight of him, and he leans against the wall, rubbing both of his hands on his boiling hot face and laughing to himself. God, that had been one of the most awkward moments of his life. He hopes Leo won’t be angry that someone had found them out.
He has actually forgotten his gloves, but he isn’t really worried about losing a memento of another final won. He’s quite sure Leo is going to spot them and bring them back to him later – Emi has almost gotten used to the small gestures of care and affection Leo showers him with by now, and the thought makes him grin wider.
He waits a couple of minutes to make sure Paulo will be in the shower when he enters the changing rooms, and then he pushes away from the wall. He curses as he trips, staring down at his feet. The laces of his left boot have come undone, and he kneels to tie them, humming to himself.
He shuffles to the side as he hears footsteps coming up behind him to make sure he’s not blocking the passage, but then his fingers still as they come to a stop. The hair on his arms stand on end, his breath catching as a semi-familiar scent fills the air and alarms start blaring in his head.
“Tutta sola adesso, puttanella?”
His back straightens, panic creeping through his veins. He recognizes that voice – he’d heard it just a couple of minutes ago – and he can hear the malice in the muttered italian. Before he even manages to look up or scramble to his feet, a hand closes around his nape, grip tight and painful.
His heartbeat spikes, muscles jerking as they fight against the lethargy spreading through his body, the touch releasing an almost soporific wave of hormones. His mind lags, limbs loosening even as his skin crawls and coldness settles into his stomach like ice.
The alpha’s next words are heavy, reverberating with the sickening register of an order, and Emi’s teeth bare in a snarl even as his vision goes grey at the edges.
England, 2022. Leo
Finally.
Leo’s mind is swimming, alcohol and lust and excitement flowing through his veins as the door of Emi’s room slams shut behind them.
“C’mon champion,” Emi gasps against his lips, laughing a little. His long fingers sink into Leo’s hair, pulling his mouth down to his neck, head thrown back. "Leo," he sighs as his tongue drags against his jugular.
Emi’s skin is hot under his hands, his scent sweet and heady in his nose. Leo had been thinking about this all night, he’d been watching him through the throngs of people dancing in the club, counting down the seconds until he could steal him away.
He places his hands on his waist , face buried in his neck as he guides him backwards to the bed, and Emi makes a soft, gorgeous noise, his hand tightening in his hair. Leo pulls back just enough to yank off his own shirt, struggling to get his head out of the collar and laughing as Emi’s fingers press against his bare chest.
He emerges with a silly grin, looking up at Emi’s flushed face and then pushing him gently on the bed and climbing on top of him. Emi’s long legs spread to give him space, and his cock twitches as his shirt rides up with the movement, exposing his flat, muscular belly and a tantalizing hint of smooth, soft skin. He cannot help leaning down to nuzzle against it, nipping gently at his hipbone and pushing the shirt further up with his nose.
God, Leo’s never had someone that smelled as good as Emi did. He licks at his skin, moaning. It’s like tasting caramelized sugar – sweet and rich and hot, slightly bitter in a way that has his belly clenching with need. Leo’s mouth waters as he remembers what he tasted like last night, even sweeter than this, dripping on his tongue.
Emi wiggles under him, his stomach shivering as Leo’s hot breath washes against it, and Leo scents him deeply, rubbing his cheek against his lower belly, purring satisfaction shivering through him as he smells arousal and want and–
He furrows his brows, something niggling at him, something that his hazy mind has trouble making sense of, but–
Emi’s fingers sink into his hair again and he arches up against him as he drags him up for a kiss. Leo moans against his lips, the thought dissolving like smoke in the wind, heat and want replacing them.
He props himself up on an elbow, fingers clutching at the omega's shirt, and he makes a noise of satisfaction as he pulls it off of him, his hand splaying over his broad shoulders, dragging down to cup at his chest, fingers sinking into the soft, plushy flesh of his pecs.
Emi inhales sharply, throwing his head back, the skin of his throat flushed pink and delicious, begging for Leo’s mouth. His hands clutch at Leo’s waist to pull him closer between his legs, fingers trembling as they move to fumble at the button of his jeans before pulling the zipper down.
Leo mouths at his collarbone as he wiggles out of them, shivering when Emi’s big hands guide the fabric down his legs and then settle on his ass, yanking him closer. His cock grinds against the seam of Emi’s jeans, right between his spread thighs, and he can feel the heat of him even through the fabric.
“Leo,” he breathes, voice shaky as he spreads his legs wider. “Want you...”
Leo groans, feeling the sound rumble in his chest like hunger, and he hurries to get rid of the omega's trousers and boxers as well, his eyes drooping when the scent of caramel bursts between them. He cups his pussy, curling his fingers through the wet folds to tease at his clit, finding it swollen and needy where it pokes out a little from the shiny dark curls.
Emi moans, low and shivery, and Leo sinks his free hand in his hair, lowering himself against his chest as he brings his mouth down for a kiss. Emi’s taste explodes on his tongue, sweet and bitter and delicious, and Leo’s hand slides down to his nape to pull him closer.
He flinches slightly when the omega’s teeth close sharply on his lower lip and he jerks under him. Pain sparks as he lets go, his flesh throbbing, and Leo blinks down at him.
Emi is breathing heavily, and he lets out a shaky laugh, hands clutching at Leo’s back as he reaches up to lick away the bead of blood dripping from Leo’s lip. “S-sorry about that” he gasps, sounding a little shocked, and then he jerks his hips against Leo’s hand. “Don’t tease,” he moans, low and breathy. His eyes are dark and bottomless, his mouth red with arousal and a trace of Leo’s blood.
Leo licks his lip, letting go of the short hair at the base of his skull to cup his cheek and then pressing the pad of his thumb against his clit more firmly. He rubs it in small, languid circles, watching, entranced, the way Emi melts under him. “It's ok, you can bite me,” he rasps, his cock jerking against the inside of Emi’s thigh. The heat of his cunt is so close, and Leo can’t wait to bury himself inside of it. “That was hot.”
Emi flushes, something like embarrassment painted on his skin, seeping into his scent. Like embarrassment, but not, and Leo makes a questioning noise, trying to focus on his face past the blur of lust and victory veiling his eyes. “Emi–?”
Emi wraps his legs around his waist, bucking against him as he pulls him down again to lick at his neck, and Leo’s brain dribbles out of his ears. Emi’s so strong, all coiled muscles and soft skin, hardness and sweetness, and he’s wrapping himself around him, slick pouring out of his pussy as Leo’s fingers push inside, where he’s wet and clenching and burning hot.
“Ah, fuck,” Emi gasps against his shoulder, nails digging into his back.
“God Emi, I wanted you all night,” Leo mumbles against his temple, kissing the damp skin and pushing in deeper, feeling him open up around his fingers, sucking them inside. “Now we’re all alone and–”
Emi whines, stiffening under him, and the sound cuts through the haze in Leo’s mind like a knife through butter. That was– It wasn’t–
Leo tries to lean away, to see his expression, but Emi clutches him tighter, squeezing around him. “More,” he gasps against his neck, his face buried in the crook of Leo’s shoulder. “More, Leo–”
Leo’s heart skips a beat, because his voice is trembling, and he’s hiding his face, and the faint ringing of alarm that he’d ignored until now becomes sharper. His fingers still inside of him.
“Emi? Is everything– What’s wrong?” he whispers.
“Nothing, nothing,” Emi gasps.
Leo pulls his fingers out slowly, feeling something unpleasant clench in his chest as Emi whimpers. Confusion fills him as he tries to pull away and Emi doesn’t let him.
“Something’s wrong,” he says. “What–?”
Emi groans, finally unclenching his hands from around his shoulders and letting Leo prop himself on an elbow, but his legs remain wrapped around him like he doesn’t want to let him go. He drops back against the mattress, an arm thrown over his face. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
There’s something gripping Leo’s heart tight, and he’s suddenly feeling altogether too sober, arousal sputtering out like someone has thrown a bucket of cold water on his head. What happened? What– Was it something he did? Had he hurt him, or– Fear curls in his belly. “Emi?”
Emi rubs a hand over his face, and Leo pulls it gently away with trembling fingers. His eyes are a little glassy, and he looks embarrassed and upset. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why– It’s nothing. We can keep going,” he whispers.
Leo swallows. “It’s not nothing. Did I do something wrong? I’m–”
“No, no!” Emi exclaims, cutting him off. He reaches for his face, grabbing his chin and pulling him down for a kiss, but Leo resists instinctively, and his hand falls away. Emi’s mouth curls down at the corners. “It’s nothing you did. It’s nothing, I handled it, I’m sorry, can we keep–”
Leo blinks, interrupting him. “What do you mean you handled it? Has– Did something happen, what–?”
Emi curses under his breath, his legs falling limp as well and freeing him. Leo pushes himself up, worry and awkwardness making his breath catch as he finds himself kneeling between his thighs. He shuffles off of him, grabbing the sheets and draping them over his waist before sitting down at his side and looking at him.
“Fuck,” Emi breathes. “There’s no chance you’re letting this go, is there?” he asks in a trembling voice.
Leo huffs out a startled laugh. “There isn’t,” he says nervously. “And please, stop asking to keep going, because uh. I can't–” He gestures at his lap, where his cock has deflated completely. “It’s not your fault! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–” he rushes to reassure him when Emi’s scent sours with humiliation and guilt. He shuts his mouth, trying to figure out what to do.
He lays down next to him, tentatively scooting close enough that they are touching again, and he rests his hand on his chest, feeling a little better when Emi relaxes instead of jerking away from his touch.
They stay in silence for a bit, but after a while, Leo cannot keep quiet anymore. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.
Emi’s head turns to look at him, and he gives him a small smile. “It’s really nothing you did,” he mumbles. “God, this is so stupid. I’m sorry, I ruined–” he swallows. “It’s fine. I took care of it, I’m ok.”
He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than Leo, and with every new word out of his mouth, Leo’s worry deepens.
He focuses, desperately trying to think back on what could have happened to cause this. Emi had been cheerful and happy this morning, and excited in the changing room before the match. He’d been exultant after, laughing and singing loudly, drinking with them – gorgeous and perfect and… Leo shakes his head.
He’d lost track of him for a while after that as they went out to party at a club, catching glimpses of him with a drink in his hand, leaning against the wall, his head bobbing in time with the music. Leo hadn’t dared be closer to him all night, because he’d known he wouldn’t have been able to stop from kissing him in front of everybody, and Emi liked his privacy.
He’d looked a bit subdued, but Leo hadn’t thought too much of it. Omegas were more sensitive to noise, it was easier for them to get overwhelmed, and Emi had been surrounded by screams and shouts since before the match started and long after it ended. He hadn’t looked distressed, Leo had seen him talking animatedly with Paulo, and he'd looked like he was having fun.
The omega had kissed him back right away when Leo pressed him against the wall of the elevator, and he’d said it wasn’t anything Leo did…
He doesn't understand.
He feels Emi’s big warm hand cover his, stopping the nervous stroking motion of his fingers against the omega’s chest, and he looks down at it with an automatic smile, which freezes on his lips as he spots something.
He jerks halfway upright, eyes widening as he reaches for Emi’s hand and brings it up between them. His knuckles are red and a little swollen, a couple of scrapes and cuts littered on his pale skin. How had Leo not noticed them before?
“Emi, what happened? You’re hurt!”
Emi snatches his hand away, curling it against his chest. “It’s–”
“It's not nothing!” Leo says, his voice rising in agitation, and then guilt fills his stomach as Emi flinches. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to– What happened?”
Emi licks his lips. “I need you to stay calm,” he says.
Leo’s eyebrows shoot up incredulously. “That’s– Saying that really doesn’t help–”
“I need you to stay calm, because nothing happened, and I handled it. It’s done.” Emi’s voice is trying to be stern, but trembling faintly. “Leo. Please.”
Leo swallows. He forces himself to relax back against him. “Ok. Ok, I can do that,” he says.
Emi doesn’t speak for a while, and then he takes a deep breath. “After the match, we– ah, me and Paulo,” he clarifies, staring at the ceiling. “We went to our changing room. I turned back because I forgot something, Paulo went to shower.”
Leo feels something cold curl into his stomach, and he grips Emi’s uninjured hand, squeezing gently.
Emi gives him a quick smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he looks away just as quickly. “He– I was lacing up my boot because it had loosened, and Jo– a player, an Italian player, came up to me and scruffed me.”
Leo’s heart stops in his chest. Hot rage floods through his veins as he stiffens, his fingers tightening around Emi’s hand for a second before he remembers himself. He breathes out slowly. Calm, calm, stay calm, you promised.
Emi goes on, his fingers trembling in Leo’s grip. “He.. uh. He insulted me, I think. I didn’t really catch all of it, I’m not good at Italian, which is weird, because it’s so similar to Spanish, right?” His voice gets faster, his wounded hand gesticulating weakly before he lets it drop against the mattress.
Leo wants to cut him off and urge him to continue, because he has the awful feeling that something more – something worse – happened, but Emi looks twitchy, like he’s trying to reassure himself, his voice softening and trailing off into silence. Leo presses his lips shut hard enough they hurt, biting them when Emi’s silence stretches. The cut on his lip aches brightly, but it’s his chest that hurts worse.
“Anyways. Then he ordered me.” Emi says it in a rush, the words tripping over each other.
“What?” Leo breathes.
Emi says something else, but there’s a horrible howling noise rushing past his ears, his vision tunneling and going black at the edges as he stares at his lips moving. There’s the taste of blood in his mouth, in his throat, an electric current of rage making his nerves scream.
He doesn’t realize he’s gotten up until he feels something yank him back down. He exhales, feeling like he’s breathing out fire, and he blinks when a hand grabs his chin and jerks his head to the side.
“You said you’d be calm,” Emi says, voice shaking and eyes glassy and liquid. “Leo.”
Leo swallows dryly, but the gnawing bite of rage and terror around his heart doesn’t relent. “I’m gonna kill him,” he growls, feeling his fangs sharpen. “Who is he– Who–” He lunges up again.
“Leo!”
Arms wrap around him, squeezing him tight enough to punch the breath out of his lungs, and Leo’s mind clears a bit. He gasps. Is he ok? Is Emi ok, has he been hurt? Has he been–
He struggles against his grip, desperately trying to get away – to check – but Emi is holding him tight, holding him still against his chest, long arms like steel bands across his back. To get away, Leo would have to really, really try, and– Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt him more. He stops, breathing heavily.
“Are you ok?” he rasps, tilting his head back to search for his face. “Are you? Did he–?” He buries his nose against his neck, scenting him deeply, trying to make sure, to check if–
Distress. Anger. Humiliation.
No pain, thank god, no pain, but.. fear. Of him ? Of Leo?
“Sorry,” Leo gasps, abruptly realizing that he’s behaving like a feral animal. “God, I’m sorry. Are you ok? Please–” His voice isn’t raw and angry anymore, but his throat hurts.
“I’m ok. He didn’t touch me,” Emi says softly, voice still trembling. He tentatively loosens his restrictive embrace and lets out a relieved sigh when Leo doesn’t try to launch himself off the bed again.
“Ok, ok,” Leo mumbles, squirming around on top of him until he’s covering as much of his body as he can with his. He hugs him. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what–”
Leo had never felt like that before. It seems that, for all that he’d been told he was atypically nonreactive for an alpha – due to the hormonal imbalance from his childhood, and the treatment he’d gotten – he did still have the instincts, buried somewhere. After a lifetime of wishing he could be more normal, that he could be like all his friends, though, he’s not sure he likes it after all. Being that out of control… He winces as he realizes that he’s been an utter asshole. Emi had gone through something awful and then he’d had to prevent Leo from committing murder on top of that.
Leo had scared him.
He breathes out shakily, pulling himself up to look at him. “I’m very sorry, I promise I can be calm. For real this time.” He gives him a small, pleading smile, and Emi huffs, a wet, but amused sound.
“You alphas, all the same,” he grumbles.
Leo winces. “But.. You said you’re ok? But the order?”
Emi’s mouth tightens. “It was… bad. But I resisted it. I resisted it Leo,” he sounds a little out of it, but also… Proud. “I punched him in the face. Really fucking hard.” He wiggles his scraped hand in front of his eyes. “So. Nothing happened, I’m okay. I don’t know why I–” he flushes. “Sorry for ruining the mood.”
Leo makes an horrified noise. “What the hell, Emi? Don’t apologize!” Suddenly, Leo realizes he’d been touching him – that he’d been kissing him and undressing him, and fingering him, and he hadn’t fucking noticed…. But no. He had noticed, he had sensed something was off, and he’d still– He rears back, horrified. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” he breathes.
Emi blinks at him. “What?” He looks confused before his eyebrows smooth out. “Ah, Leo, it’s ok. It’s normal, your reaction, I think. You alphas are always kinda on a trigger, it’s–”
“No, no,” Leo says, interrupting him. “I… I didn’t– That was bad too, but… I could tell something was… but I didn’t–” He swallows harshly. “I should have stopped sooner, fuck, I’m–”
Emi’s face clears in understanding. “Oh. Oh, no that’s not–” He grabs his face again, and this time Leo is too busy panicking to stop the omega from kissing him. He lets out a whimper, eyes screwing shut as Emi’s lips crash against his. When Emi pulls away, he looks embarrassed. “I wanted to. I really, really wanted it. I just… I couldn’t turn my brain off and then–”
And then Leo had grabbed his nape. He shudders, his lip throbbing accusingly. His face twists with horror. “I’m so sorry.”
Emi huffs, sounding exasperated. “Shut up, Leo. Not your fault. I told you to keep going, I wanted it. ”
Leo takes a deep breath, watching Emi press his trembling lips together in a white line. He’s doing it again, fuck, making this about himself, making Emi reassure him. He shelves away the overwhelming boulder of guilt that’s weighing heavily on his chest. He’ll apologize properly, later. He’ll do better. And he’ll never grab Emi’s nape again without being asked. He nods slowly.
He wants to apologize again, but he bites it back. He looks at Emi, scenting the air and examining his expression. He looks tired, he smells tired and upset, and still fucking embarrassed. Leo wants to find that fucking bastard and tear his throat out, but that’s an unhelpful, selfish instinct, and he manages to wrestle it back into a small corner of his mind.
“Ok,” he sighs, relaxing against the omega and tentatively wrapping his arms around him, rolling them on their sides. Emi lets him, his eyes fluttering shut as Leo's hand strokes up and down his arm soothingly, and he shivers before melting against his side. Leo presses a kiss to his cheek. “Ok,” he repeats, softer now. “How are you feeling?”
Emi makes an uncertain noise. “I don’t... I don’t know.” He swallows, rubbing his cheek against Leo’s shoulder like he’s seeking comfort. “I’m not– ugh. Nothing happened,” he mumbles. “Nothing happened, and I resisted an order, and I punched him in the face. So why–”
Leo tightens his grip around him, biting his lip. Plenty happened. Too much happened. “It’s alright to be.. scared,” he murmurs. “Or… angry? Even if the– even if the worst didn’t happen. Something did.” God, he feels so fucking useless as he watches Emi’s face twist a little. He doesn’t know what to say, how to make him feel better.
“But I was strong. I held my own,” Emi says, his voice rising. “I’m not helpless.”
Leo is nodding. “Of course you aren’t,” he says, and he means it.
“Then... fuck. I hate feeling like this. That bastard,” he hisses, eyes narrowing. “Fucker. He ruined my fucking night. I wanted to– Shit.” He deflates, suddenly.
“I’m sorry,” Leo whispers, feeling the guilt creep back in.
Emi thunks his head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry too,” he mumbles.
Leo grips his chin gently, making him raise his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, fiercely. “Nothing–”
“I shouldn’t have… I wanted to forget. And I wanted you. And I wanted to celebrate with you. But I shouldn’t have lied.”
Leo’s stomach clenches as he remembers the fear he'd felt when he realized that Emi was... off. He swallows. “You don’t have to apologize. But please...”
He doesn’t know what he wants to say, not really, he cannot quite put the sense of unease he’s feeling into words. Please don’t do that again? It feels selfish, like Leo is trying to act like he was the one who’d been wronged, but that skin-crawling sensation of realizing Emi had been letting him touch him like that when he wasn’t into it anymore is still lingering. “Just.. Tell me? Yeah?” he says weakly.
Emi’s eyes close as he nods, a tear tracing a shining path against his cheek, and Leo automatically wipes it away with his thumb. He wants to kiss him so badly, but he restrains himself, not sure if it would be welcome right now. His mind is whirring, though, as he tries to figure out how to proceed from there.
“What do you want to do?”
Emi’s eyebrows furrow, and he sniffs a bit as his eyes refocus. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… We can go to Scaloni right now. Or maybe you want to sleep? We can do it tomorrow.”
“Go to Scaloni for what?”
It’s Leo’s turn to look at him confused. “To tell him. Do you know who it was? We have to go to the police, Lio will help. We have to do it soon-ish, though, before we leave England.”
Emi lets out an incredulous, wet laugh. “No we aren’t,” he says.
Leo blinks. “What? What do you mean?”
“Leo,” Emi sighs. “What’s the point?”
“What do you mean ‘what’s the point’? You’ve been–” Leo swallows the word, feeling it burn in his throat. His hand tightens around Emi's bicep protectively as he pulls him closer, fighting the urge to start scenting him again. “We need to go to the police.”
“They'll do jack shit,” Emi says, tone flat. “There’s no evidence of anything, it’ll be my word against his. And he’s the one with a broken nose and maybe broken teeth.” He smirks, a little viciously. “So, actually, I might be the one who ends up in trouble.”
Leo’s aghast. “But..” he says, weakly, trying to find something to say to that. “But he assaulted you. He ordered you.”
Emi’s head lolls back, and he looks up at him a little pityingly. “He didn’t touch me– apart from the scruffing,” he says, waving a hand dismissively when Leo opens his mouth to object. “And like… Leo. Even when someone can’t resist, even when they are forced to obey… It never amounts to anything. They will say that you were drunk, that you wanted it, it was just a request, and nobody heard him order you, did they? So, how can you prove it happened?” He stares at Leo’s face and shrugs.
Leo’s stomach twists unpleasantly as he watches Emi’s resigned expression. “But..” he says again, but he can hear that same resignation in his tone.
“You can’t,” Emi says, finality in his voice. He shrugs again, shifting in his embrace. His lashes are wet as he looks at him through them. “But there’s something you can do.”
Leo looks at him hopefully. “I can go beat him up if you want,” he says, only half-jokingly. But he doesn't move a muscle, snuggling Emi closer.
Emi laughs, his face smoothing out and his scent turning sweeter. “Sure. But I think I did that pretty well on my own. I can take care of myself,” he says, tone gentle but firm.
Leo nods. “I know. I know you can. You shouldn’t have to, though.” He does know that. Emi is amazing, and he’d probably done more damage than Leo would be able to before getting flattened, but there’s still a tight ball of burning rage in his belly that tells him that maybe, maybe he could use it to really make that bastard hurt.
“I have a better idea, one that doesn’t land you in jail,” Emi says. He clears his throat, face flushing as his eyes dart away. “Can you just… keep h-holding me?”
Leo lets out a breath. “Of course,” he says immediately, and then he has his own idea. “Can I… Your hand is hurt. Can I take care of that? I have band-aids. And then I’ll hold you.”
Emi flushes brighter, but he’s grinning now, his eyes still a little wet. “Sure. We’re playing doctor?”
Leo chokes on his saliva, and then laughs, resting his forehead against Emi’s temple. He breathes in shakily, letting the atmosphere between them lighten, because it seems to be what the omega needs right now. “Stay here, don’t move,” he mutters, kissing his cheek before reluctantly leaving Emi’s embrace and rushing to the bathroom to get the first-aid kit.
When he comes back, he collects his and Emi’s clothes from where they are scattered across the room, holding them out to him tentatively. He clears his throat, embarrassed, as he watches Emi raise his eyebrows. “F-for a nest? If you wanna make one?”
Emi smiles, and Leo pats himself on the back because he looks pleased and a little shy as he arranges them around him, using the sheet Leo had covered him with as well to bulk the nest up a bit. Leo shifts his weight from foot to foot as he waits impatiently, and then he clears his throat and steps closer as he watches him curl up into it.
“Can I–?”
Emi reaches out with a long arm and yanks him into the nest, laughing softly as Leo makes a startled noise. Leo scents the air, his body relaxing as he feels their mingling scents cocoon them. He sits by Emi’s hip, trying to keep his eyes on task and not wandering over all that soft, exposed skin as he grabs his hand gently.
They are silent as Leo dabs antiseptic on the small cuts on Emi’s knuckles, feeling a dark sense of vicious satisfaction as he imagines the fucker’s teeth breaking against them. Emi is breathing slowly, eyes closed as he places a couple of bandaids on the cuts, his mouth curling in a smile when Leo brings his hand up to press a kiss against the back of it. His fingers slide between Leo's, and his face is pale and relaxed, dampness sticking to his lashes.
Leo's heart jolts with an overwhelming surge of affection and protectiveness, strong enough it takes his breath away.
He lays down next to him, and the omega curls into his chest, tucking his head under his chin and bringing his legs up as if to make himself smaller. Leo holds him, like he’d promised – like he so desperately wants to do – arms wrapped around his back, his leg thrown over his hips, nose buried in his hair. He tries to cover every inch of him with his body – unsuccessfully, there is so much of him, and Leo is small – but he gives it his all, smiling sheepishly when he hears Emi snort as he figures out what he’s trying to do.
Emi seems to melt in his arms, nose pressed against Leo’s throat, every breath making him relax more and more. His scent is clear now – only caramel and happiness and a peaceful calm just faintly marred by slowly fading tension – and Leo breathes it in slowly.
His hands stroke over his back, up and down his arms comfortingly, coming up to card through his hair – studiously avoiding the back of his neck. The omega is warm and soft, big and strong and yet vulnerable in his arms, and Leo closes his eyes.
He's safe, he's okay. He's not hurt, I have him, he's safe.
He cannot stop from pressing kisses against his temple, his cheekbone, the top of his head.
After a while, Emi speaks, voice mellow and a little slurry. “What about that dinner you promised me?” he mumbles. “Can we go tomorrow?”
Leo smiles wide. “Of course,” he says.
Emi makes a humming noise. “Good. And…” He swallows heavily, his fingers dancing nervously against Leo's spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Can we tell the team? About us, I mean. Paulo figured it out already.” His voice is soft, an uncharacteristic hint of shyness in his tone that makes Leo clutch him tighter to his chest.
Leo blinks, a flutter of happiness filling his stomach. “Of course,” he repeats.
Excitement bubbles into his belly, but he tries to rein it in. He hadn’t said anything to anyone, because Emi had seemed uncomfortable with that, but they’ve been together for months now. Maybe things have changed?
He remembers their first date, the way the omega had shrunk into himself as they went out, looking so uncomfortable when people stared at them that Leo had changed plans and brought him to a small, almost empty snack bar instead of the restaurant he'd made reservations at. He’d felt like the most awful kind of alpha as they sat down and he took in the dingy surroundings, but Emi had smiled at him, his back straightening and his eyes getting brighter.
Leo had wondered about that, remembering that day – the day in which he’d thought he’d fucked up any chance he had to get closer to him.
The omega had been spitting mad, his words tumbling out of his mouth hurriedly as he hurled accusations at him, his index finger digging into his chest hard enough it had left a bruise. Leo’s stomach had dropped, and he’d been terrified that he’d overstepped, maybe been too forward and made him uncomfortable. It had been so sudden and out of nowhere that it had taken him a while before he'd really started listening to what Emi was saying instead of wallowing in his panic.
You think I don’t know how they look at me– You think this is funny? Uh? Is this funny to you?– Fucking all the same, give me the respect I deserve, at least– I can feel them watching me when you do that– Look at the freak, yeah? Bet you were having a great big laugh–
Leo had been kind of surprised at himself when he’d managed to resurrect his courage enough to actually properly ask him out after he'd been sent scurrying off with his tail between his legs like that. He hadn’t felt that small, or that ashamed – for what he didn’t know, because he’d never done what Emi was accusing him off, he’d been kind of smitten with him from when he'd first joined the team – since he was an actual child, having been caught destroying his mother’s beloved roses while playing in the garden.
But Emi was worth it.
It had been curiosity at the very start, a strange sense of kinship that had tugged at his attention, that made Emi magnetic.
Leo hadn’t been around many omegas before – his life revolved around football, and there weren’t many omega players around. And Emi was an unconventional one.
He’d watched him smile and joke around, watched him laugh and play and be absolutely magnificent. It had been his confidence that had hooked him in the beginning. That and, admittedly, his brown eyes, the shape of his mouth, the elegant length of his fingers… But the confidence, that was what had reeled him in, because Leo had never been able to do that – to be that – not outside of the pitch.
He’d watched Emi wear that confidence like a mantle, even when people whispered behind his back, and sometimes to his face – and hadn’t that been enraging, Leo had made his displeasure very, very clear about that – and he’d wanted to get to know him. He wanted to be close to him, be the one to make him laugh.
The fact that he was fucking brilliant on the pitch had been like pouring gasoline over a fire, and Leo had found himself dusting off his rusty flirting skills and dancing closer and closer to the flames, desperately hoping he wasn’t going to get burned too badly.
He’d always felt like he didn’t have much to offer, in this regard. He was short and awkward, not particularly handsome or even that interesting outside of the gift God had chosen to bestow upon him. That had stung for a long while, the knowledge that the success he’d had with romance had come mostly because of his name – because of who he was, but not really, not the real him – at least at the start.
But being near Emi was intoxicating. He’d found himself talking more than he usually would, and listening greedily to every story Emi chose to share with him about his life. It was easy, and while the omega had been starstruck when they first met, he’d gotten over that pretty quickly, and Leo had been delighted at the sharp wit and sharper humor he’d been met with. He’d never been more thrilled to be teased.
And then, Emi had screamed at him.
In that moment, Leo had seen behind that mask that wasn’t a mask, not really – because he’d been furious, brave and angry and knowing his worth, fighting for it – and he’d seen in him the same insecurities and fears that had plagued him since he’d stopped growing while all his schoolmates shot up around him.
And as he’d looked at him – red faced and gesticulating wildly, eyes wide and mouth curled in anger – he’d thought: why do you believe them? You’re perfect.
Emi seemed to have brought that confidence into Leo’s life as well, because he’d found himself caring less and less about what people thought. He didn’t feel inadequate. Not when he had to look up into his eyes, not when Emi picked him up like he weighed nothing, not when he teased him and his laughter and his humor filled the spaces between them that Leo couldn’t.
He squeezes him tighter in his embrace, dropping a kiss against the crown of his head.
“Good,” Emi says, and he sounds weirdly relieved. “That’s good.”
“We can tell whoever we want,” Leo murmurs.
Emi raises his head, grinning widely. His eyes are bright and happy, his scent as well, and he kisses him.
Leo doesn’t know how he got this lucky.
When Emi pulls back, they are panting. “God, that prick,” he mutters apropos of nothing and Leo blinks at him. “I really, really wanted to fuck you silly,” he grumbles, before kissing him again.
A pang of rage echoes in Leo’s chest, but it’s soon smothered by Emi’s sweet taste against his lips, and he laughs into his mouth. “We can do that tomorrow, too,” he says, breathing heavily.
Emi makes a pleased noise and rests his head against his collarbone again. Leo’s chest grows warm, his heart squeezing as he hears him purr softly.
“Tomorrow,” Emi sighs, voice slow and dreamy.
It sounds like a promise.