#leo not being able to stand him at first because he wanted ney to come back instead of barca buying another player

[heartsoftruth]

What bag do you love in the picture of ney davi and bruna?

The one she has with her, but there aren’t any other photos of it. 

Anonymous said:I still find it weird that Carol doesn’t follow Neymar 🤔

She doesn’t? I never noticed, but we all know they have a good and mature relationship. Social media is not important to me tbh. 

Anonymous said:Brumar will be on/off for many more years to come. Bruna is 22 and Ney is almost 26. It’ll go on until they approach their 30’s and realise their self worth.

We can only wait and see what will happen. 

Anonymous said:I don’t want to be mean (okay maybe just a little). But I see people saying that Bruna does not need pr, but in the “past” she has already had a fake relationship and has already been in a “date” with a singer and their team warned some paparazzi who “caught” they two. So pr is noting new to her.

How do you know her team warned the paps?? 

Anonymous said:P1. I think Bruna and Neymar both love the attention and publicity they are getting from their relationship. It seems like they are more in love with the idea of their relationship, I mean two of the most famous people in Brazil, than they are with each other. That is probably why they broke up so many times. If they were in love and “strong” just like they always say they are, they would be able to hold their relationship without any break ups or just breaks.Anonymous said:P2. They should ask themselves how much time they have to play games with each other. Bruna is young but Neymar is going on to his 26th birthday. It’s not just one of them who loves the spotlight because that relationship would’ve ended after the first or the second time of trying. Unless they become aware of the fact that they love what the person offers to them and not the actual person, they will continue breaking up and getting back together.Anonymous said:P3. After a break up they, especially Neymar, probably feel alone, not because the person, Bruna, isn’t there but the attention and love from the outside (Brumars) isn’t there too to cheer on their love, affection and actions. The idea of their relationship happening seems like it’s being misinterpreted as pure, selfless love in their relationship. That’s not only unhealthy but a vicious circle that will continue until one actually realises that they have to buckle up or let go of each other.Anonymous said:P4. Their relationship doesn’t have to be PR. When attention and encouragement is their foundation, they don’t need peopleto tell them to get together. People remember the feelings they get from one person. If Neymar and Bruna love the attention, they are going to remember the love and affection that may not be from within but that obviously doesn’t matter to them. Their relationship isn’t with passion, intimacy or commitment. It’s more of fatuous love.Anonymous said:P5. The Triangular theory of love by Robert Sternberg is my reference. Fatuous love is a relationship, often marriages, that exist with passion and with commitment. In this case their passion is shown by declarations and displays of their love publicly. I don’t know much about their commitment but it seems like they don’t cheat in any form on their partner. This is my theory (and kind of my experiment) because I’m reading about the psychology behind ‘love’ currently.

I think you’re right about Ney missing the affection and feeling of someone loving him and to come home too. 

I think they both have to put much effort in the relationship (also bc of the distance), but in all honesty I think they did that last time too. She was often in Barcelona and when she was she was there for a really long time. She was with him on vacay in the US and then Africa… Only thing that lacked - looking at it from the outside - was her supporting him from the stands. 

I dont get btw you say: “Their relationship isn’t with passion, intimacy or commitment. It’s more of fatuous love.”

Then you say: “Fatuous love is a relationship, often marriages, that exist with passion and with commitment”

So do they or do they lack passion and commitment? I was confused by that part. 

Anonymous said:Yep.. Libra and Gemini’s are the best match for Aquarius because they’re air signs. Kinda funny because Libra’s are dubbed the “soul mate” sign for Aquarius and guess who’s a Libra? CAROLINA LOL. All jokes aside, Astrology can be fun to get into but I’m a firm believer of God so hey who knows, maybe God has a plan for Ney&Bruna. Despite them being astrologically incompatible 😂

Hahah, well then I need to meet Ney 😜😜😜

Indeed if they’re meant to be: they will make it. I also believe in that. 

Anonymous said:[ part 1 ] their relationship is weirder than it ever had been before. You can clearly see that both are now way more active on instagram, especialy Bruna. She is getting over 1M likes now that she is back with him, she sometimes got 1M but now she gets in on every damn pic. And they also comment every time on each others post i mean ofc you can do that but EVERY DAMN TIME ?! another thing why it seems so forced. they are literally giving the “brumar” fans what they want.Anonymous said:[ part 2 ] on the websides with the „HIGH QUALITY PAPARAZZI PICTURES„ of Brumar all over the world speaks of her either as his „model girlfriend or the „Deus Salve o Rei actress„ and they are kissing so weird to me ?!?! i mean i saw Kevin&Izabel kissing next to them but it was far more delicate and cute. Btw Ney seemed taken back by her smashing her lips to her. She is an actress after all so she sure knows how to „handle„ all this.Anonymous said:[ part 3 ] the boat pics: oh well….. one fucking mood: „😴🌚„ Davi looked bored as fuuuuck dayum #MOOD. who the fuck brings their kid on a boring boat tour like that?! I remember Davi going on a boat party with Carol (tbh everywhere Carol goes with him it seems so fun!) and there was music and he was enjoying himself with her cute boyfriend who seems to be bonding quite well with him!! 💖 im happy for that since Neymar had only eyes for Bruna and Davi was only good for their pics lmao.Anonymous said:[ part 4 ] there is such a difference in the pictures of Ca/her bf/davi, where their pics seem more of a real, normal and simple. and Neymar/Bruna/Davi, too much trying to shape a perfect reality of life. which DOES NOT EXIST. I don’t see the passion in that „„„family„„„ pic of them. I have seen Davi kissing Ney’s cheek but someone just said kiss his cheek and he just did and that was kinda it, no passion whatsoever. all pics of him davi and bruna lack it. bye now imdone w this 4-part analysis😂Anonymous said:Bruna is getting a million likes & has about 1 million followers more than before. It’s just quite strange that she constantly posts about advertisements (on her stories and half of the post of the last week). She and her team is taking advantage of the situation pretty well.Anonymous said:Considering she hardly ever posts on Instagram, Bruna is sure milking the latest publicity stunt for all it’s worth. Well she has gained over 600k followers since NYE so i’m not shocked

Yeah I agree: it feels like they’re trying to force that ‘best couple of the world’ vibe on you. Like even Jelena wasnt that extra when they met up and continue to meet up tbh. They just looked really cute on that bike having fun (to compare comeback couples haha). 

And indeed her Insta - promo -activity together with the increase of followers is also just…. Maybe a coincidence, but a very lucky one then… 

Davi on that boat looked bored indeed, but we can’t say they didn’t do anything fun. I mean with Carol he indeed looked like he had more fun, but thats also bc they made it fun for him. Jumping off the boat and peddling on the sea… I think Ney didn’t thought that one out well and the fact that Davi likes to do things (like any kid his age). Like I said its also easier to bound when you do things with the other person. That way you also have something to talk about haha. 

I dont think he’s using him for pics or anything. But I agree the perfect family doesn’t excist. The perfect life doesn’t excist nor does the perfect person. Everyone has a scar or something going on in their lives. You may not see it, but everyone has their issues/thins they deal with. 

Anonymous said:i saw a non talking about a astrology i have to say I read a thousands and thousands of their sinastry and what seems to be the bigger problem is that they don’t know how to overcome problems and they tend to rush things too much, she is a Leo with moon in Scorpio and rising in Taurus, he is an Aquarius with moon in pieces and rising in Sagittarius (by the moon you can see they have an affinity) he has Mars in cap and shes in libra (they are so different in every level) shes a romantic and he’sAnonymous said:hes a person who all of his energies are directed to work and stuff.. and he has Venus in Capricorn she has in Leo. His Venus in cap searchs for estabilish in love, hes a serious type of person in that aspect (which means he won’t believe in anything crazy or a partner who claim they are in love too quickly) and she wants to be the star in the relationship wants a partner who will be her prince that explain why shes so into romance and all and why whenever shes with him it has to be all bout herAnonymous said:that could explain why they always coming and go, hes a person who gets too comfortable and established his entire future upon that person but at the same time hes an Aquarius who loves freedom and meeting people and shes a Leo who loves romance (she probably thinks it’s cute the fact hes come back she may the one and she like it) overall their sinastry says that the magnetic between it’s quick and the overall understanding it’s so easy between then but they are childish they love it all but+Anonymous said:but at the same time they hate, one proof that he didn’t mature yet it’s because he’s not into bullshit and drama and shes ain’t too but when they with each other they don’t care and it it’s the bigger problem

I have like basic knowledge of horoscopes. So this went way above my head also because I didn’t understand some of the words I think…. 

Like this: “Leo with moon in Scorpio and rising in Taurus, he is an Aquarius with moon in pieces and rising in Sagittarius (by the moon you can see they have an affinity) he has Mars in cap and shes in libra.”  OR “and he has Venus in Capricorn she has in Leo.”

I did my best and I really find horoscopes interesting, but this is a little too hard for me to understand… You did made me wonder how the moon etc is in my horoscope haha. I’m gonna search for that! 

And I like the second part of your message when you explain more about the Zodiac signs of them and personality. I think you can be really right with that tbh. 

Anonymous said:there was a rumour back in the day that the whole brumar thing started when neymar was looking for a woman with a clean image since he used to be seen with a lot of women ex BBB chicks and etc and first he was looking after marina but barbosa but something happened and he ended it up with Bruna.

I think I read about that too. But that rumor started around her wedding right? Or a little before… She’s a sweetheart and a gorgeous woman, but I dont think Ney’s type. 

Anonymous said:Which celebrity do you think would look good with Neymar? Just aesthetically.

I think Bruna looks good with him tbh. 

Anonymous said:Does bru not wear her ring that ney got

No idea… Sorry. 

Anonymous said:Hey what does Carol do ? Like is she studying or working?

No idea. I think she was studying something, but I think she stopped… She has that clothing line.

Anonymous said:Hmm, betcha all the money in the world she’ll turn up to Paris late Feb/early March during Paris Fashion Week. She turned up to the Paris Haute Couture Week in July. I believe that was her first ever appearance at Fashion Week. She wouldn’t miss out on the chance of “mingling” with her “idols” Kendall, Gigi etc.

Ughhh. Frontrow with Balmain then I guess… 

Anonymous said:Thank you for tagging your asks! 😘

No problem! (but I’m gonna tag this as well so I dont know if you gonna see haha). 

Anonymous said:So were gonna get a new Brumar pic everyday until the new novel series 😏☕️

#countdown haha. 

[barce-fabu-lona]

Neymessi Oneshot 3

Hello tumblr people! I finally managed to finish one of  my requests *cheers*. Well anyways, the lovely @jarvisrocks requested this Neymessi fic with our French angel Antoine Griezmann on the side (I paired him with Koke lol) and that’s what I did. Also there is a bit Ronaldo/Ramos if you like squint. The whole idea is based on the Samsung Galaxy commercial where football saves the planet. If you haven’t watched it yet you should do so here. It’s very weird at times but it’s actually kind of amazing.

Neymar and Messi on their way to the second “Humans vs. Alien” match & the final minutes of the game. (I’m sorry I was too lazy to write the whole game, I hope you enjoy anyways.)

“I never thought they would come back.”  

Neymar looks up from his phone when he hears the soft Spanish words with the hint of a French accent. Antoine Griezmann, one of his rivals on the pitch in Spain but one of his teammates in the Galaxy 11, is standing next to him, looking a bit awkward.

“Can I sit?” Antoine asks and gestures to the seat next to the Brazilian.

“Of course.” Neymar says and hastily collects his stuff, dropping it onto the floor between his feet.

“Thanks.” Antoine gives him a shy smile and then takes a seat beside him.

He doesn’t say anything else and because Neymar doesn’t know what to say to him either, he just contents himself with staring out of the window into the never ending darkness of the universe.

The longer he keeps on looking outside, the less he is able to comprehend that he is currently on board of the most advanced spaceship mankind has ever managed to construct. The view is amazing but scary and everytime Neymar recalls where they are bringing him, an invincible hand closes around his heart, squeezing until his ribcages feels like it’s on fire.

“I never thought this was possible.” Antoine suddenly speaks up again.

Neymar turns towards his voice, latches onto it and focuses on the Frenchman next to him, suddenly thankful for his company because the pressure in his chest is back and he feels like he can’t breathe.

Antoine is not looking at him, his azure eyes fixed on something beyond the glass window of the spaceship. Neymar busies himself with watching Antoine’s gaze move around the galaxy until their eyes meet again.

“Neymar, you need to calm down.” He says immediately when he realizes that Ney’s panicking.

He has been since the moment he opened the door to Pep Guardiola to be honest. He knew that it was coming; he knew he would be selected to defend the planet earth and yet he was not prepared for it. Hell, he doesn’t feel prepared now and their spaceship is actually coming straight from the trainings center where he has spent the past three months of his life.

“I can’t.” He admits and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.

He suddenly feels very hot in his high-tech spacesuit, which is supposed to keep his body safe until they arrive at the stadium. That one stadium, that actually belongs to a colony of aliens that now for the second time in a few years, have decided to destroy earth if the humans didn’t agree to play a game of football with them. And they had to win as well.

If Neymar thought about it too much, his head started to hurt.

“This is all so crazy.” The Brazilian mutters desperately.

His hands find their way into his hair, tugging and pulling until his scalp hurts. He just needs something to ground him, needs something to make him feel human because floating through space in giant-ass spaceship is definitely not.

“I know, I know.” Antoine says somewhere above him.

Ney’s eyes are still closed but he appreciates the soothing tone in Antoine’s voice. He hasn’t talked to the Frenchman much, but he already likes his voice. It’s mostly soft and the ways the words roll of his tongue have something elegant to them. He is French after all.

“I feel like I’m stuck in one of those horrible Science-Fiction movies I used to love.” Neymar groans, continuing to rake a hand through his short hair. “If we come back alive, then I’m never fucking watching them again.”

Antoine chuckles a bit at that, an innocent sound that somehow doesn’t belong here but makes Neymar feel better anyways. His teammate seems so normal, like he is a piece of the real world, the old world, while Neymar feels like he has already lost himself in space.

“Some are good. Always liked Star Trek.” Antoine says nonchalantly. “Also, stop pulling your hair out. It weirds me out and you want to look good for our victory photo.”

“Sorry.” Neymar drops his hands to his laps and starts fiddling with the fabric of his spacesuit instead.

Griezmann sits next to him in silence again before pulling out his phone as well and starting to flip through a few photos.

“Why are you so cool about this?” He has been dying to ask that since Antoine first sat down.

“I’m not.” The Frenchman mumbles, not lifting his eyes of the screen of his phone.

Neymar leans over a bit, wanting to at least catch a glimpse of what Antoine is looking at. The young man lets him and together they go through his iPhone gallery, looking at pictures from Antoine with his friends and his family, the team and also Koke.

“He’s not here.” Neymar says slowly when another picture of the two of them illuminates the screen.

“No.” Antoine sighs deeply, his blue eyes glazing over with something that looks like tears to Neymar.

He swallows and carefully reaches over, patting his back awkwardly.

“It’s okay, he knew he wasn’t going to be called up.” Antoine says but his voice is laced with silent pain. “And we both knew that they would come knocking at my door eventually.”

“I knew as well.” Ney says, trying to comfort the Frenchman a best as he could. “I knew if they would take Leo, they would take me too.”

Antoine nods, looks up and scans the large cabin for a sign of Messi. He’s nowhere to be seen.

“He’s with Ronaldo.” Neymar informs him bitterly. “Has been glued to his hip since the day they shipped us off to the trainings center.”

Antoine glances sideways and Ney avoids his eyes this time. He knows how he sounds, rancorous, frustrated, and maybe even a little bit desperate. He doesn’t want to really, but Leo not paying much attention to him always rubs him the wrong way. Especially in a situation like this. The first few nights in the trainings center Neymar almost went crazy. He couldn’t sleep because everything felt so clinical and strange, the only thing familiar in the large, modern department was Leo but he didn’t spend his nights with Neymar and during the day he was off training with Ronaldo. They were the new dream team, the stars and earth’s biggest hope. The rest of them were just sidekicks.

“You know that’s not true.” Antoine’s words are back to being soft and reassuring.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Most of it.”

Neymar tries to laugh but ends up make some sort of pitiful whining sound.

He’s scared, okay? He has been since the beginning and he is now and he wants Leo to come and make him feel better because he has been through this once already but fucking Messi is still nowhere to be seen.

“Don’t worry.” Antoine tells him and lightly pokes him in the side. “I don’t like Ronaldo either.”

Neymar actually has to laugh at that and if he remembers right, it’s the first time he really did since the aliens arrived on earth. And it feels good, it feels like freedom. At least for a few seconds.

“So that makes two of us.”

Antoine shrugs and nods toward the window.

“And a lot more people down there.”

Neymar follows his motion and finds himself staring at their home planet. The earth looks so small and insignificant from where they are, like it’s just a blueish dot in a black mass of nothingness.

“A lot of people don’t like me either down there.” He mumbles and leans his forehead against the cool glass.

“Well, you are a cool guy and Ronaldo is too, to be honest.”

“Seems like Leo thinks that too.”

“They are the two most talented and capable players in the world after all. And they’ve been through this already. It’s logical that the coaches, no hold on, that the whole world relies on them and I bet they know that as well. They will lead us.”

Neymar spares one more glance for the earth and then turns back around.

“Do you think we can win?”

“Oui.”

“Why?”

Antoine’s expression is grave all of sudden.

“Because we have to.” He picks up his phone, unlocks it and turns it towards Neymar. “I have to.”

Quietly Neymar looks at Koke smiling at him from the screen of Antoine’s phone and when he opens his mouth to give a reply, the sliding door at the end of the cabin opens and Leo and Ronaldo walk in, side by side. Leo’s eyes find his for only a brief second but it’s enough to make Neymar’s heart throb with desire but also fear.

He nods at Griezmann.

“I understand.”

Neymar doesn’t realize he has fallen asleep until he wakes up again. His head is resting against the glass of the gigantic window looking out into space and the only sign indicating that they have moved at all, is that he can no longer make out earth in the distance. A shiver rolls down his spine, makes his toes curl and his fist clench. He feels lonely all of sudden, like he is the last person to exist. It’s an overwhelming feeling, way too much to handle for his brain that is already in constant panic mode and the invincible hand returns, squeezing his heart tightly.

“Ney, just keep breathing.”

Neymar almost bursts into tears at the sound of the oh so familiar voice.

“Leo.” He whimpers softly and shifts in his seat so he can bury his face in the crook of the older man’s neck.

He had really enjoyed Antoine’s company but at this moment in time he is fucking joyful the little Frenchman had given up his seat to Leo. Leo who is now wrapping one of muscular arms around Ney’s body, pulling him close. Neymar feels the sudden urge to climb into Leo’s lap and let him rock him back and forth like a baby but he resists, only nuzzles his cheek against Leo’s neck.

“Are you okay?” The older man asks him, his voice toned down to a whisper.

Only now Ney notices that the cabin lights above their heads had been turned off. He can barely see across the little corridor that is separating the rows of seats, but after a few seconds he is able to make out Cristiano’s sleeping form across from them. He’s surprised to find his head resting on Ramos’s shoulder.

Only then does Neymar remember, that he was supposed to be mad at Leo.

And when he does, he suddenly can’t ignore the acid feeling that has been seething in the pit of his stomach any longer and pulls back from their little, intimidate moment.

Disappointment washes over Leo’s face when Neymar returns to his previous position but he doesn’t hold him back and doesn’t reach out again.

But he does whisper “I’m sorry” into the crushing silence and it makes the Brazilian feel somehow better.

“I know I haven’t been there for you.” Leo follows up his statement, his eyes watching Neymar’s face with a spark of hope for forgiveness.

“But you had to be there for yourself first, I get it.”

“Ney-“

“No, I do.” Neymar cuts him off. “I really do. You must be carrying a lot of pressure of those slim shoulders of yours.”

“Yours are not that much broader.”

Neymar doesn’t answer that, just keeps staring at Piqué’s head that is peeking out over the seat in front of him.

“I am sorry.” Leo tries again and carefully reaches towards his boyfriend, fingers gently touching to Neymar’s jaw. “I know I left you to fend on your own.”

“I guess I need to learn how to do that at some point.” He replies softly and casts his eyes downwards when Leo manages to turn his face towards him.

“Neymar.” The Argentinian protests weakly. “Don’t shut me out, por favor.”

“I didn’t do anything, you shut me out.”

“No, I didn’t.” Leo coaxes his chin up until Neymar was forced to look him in the eyes. “But you are right, I am carrying the whole world on my shoulders. We all are actually but Cris and I are the captains, we’re responsible for all of you. I had to focus so I would be able to protect you when we’re up there.”

Leo leans forward then and presses their lips together in a chaste but meaningful kiss. Neymar discovers that that kind of touch calms down his racing heart and aching stomach so he chases after Leo’s lips instead of talking, connecting them once more. They kiss for a while, no tongue, o teeth, just their mouth sliding together in silent comfort.

“You can’t protect me.” Neymar breathes when they finally part. “You can’t protect everybody.”

“I don’t want to protect everybody.” Leo whispers in return and wraps his arm back around Ney’s shoulders. “I just want to protect you.”

The lights are so bright they are hurting Neymar’s eyes.

His jersey is sticking to his back, sweat is running down his face, dripping down his chin and onto the pitch. His body hurts, his muscles are screaming but he can’t and won’t stop now.

Leo is by his side, not looking much better then him. His hair is all messed up, his cheeks are puffed out and burning red. He’s rarely like this, normally always has some breath left in his lungs that will help him go on, but today even he is panting.

“This game- it’s not even fair.” Antoine is standing on his other side, a bottle of water in his hand.

He is shaking from exhaustion.

“They’re so much taller and stronger.” His arm goes up, waving into the direction of their opponents.

“They have better stamina then us.” Leo comments, gulps down some more water.

Neymar doesn’t say anything, just watches the medics treat Ramos who had literally been ran over by one of the monstrous alien things that were planning to burn down their planet. Ronaldo and Piqué are by his side while the rest of the team is using their chances to spare the little energy they have left and fill up on their water supplies. Neymar notices that Cristiano even has a hand resting on top of his shoulder, massaging gently.

“Are they a thing?” Neymar blurts out, pushing his fingers beneath the sweat slick fabric of his jersey and solving it from his skin.

“They might be if we survive this.” Antoine says and pours the rest of his water over the top of his head.

His hair is dripping when they walk back onto the pitch.

Neymar glances up at the holographical clock. They have five minutes left to play, five minutes to win, lose or stay tied and go into overtime. He would prefer to win because he knows if he keeps up running much longer his legs will just give out under him and that would be it.

Normally overtime is no problem for him and, he doesn’t even need to push himself at the end of most game but this one, this is different. With their alien opponents obviously having a natural advantage Neymar needs to run like he is a sprinter in the fucking Olympics.

Also the lovely alien-human-whatevers are not playing fair like, at all. They push and pull and scratch and since the damn referee is just another holographical thingy, flickering across the pitch every now and then, it’s no wonder not everything gets called.

When Ramos was taken down a few minutes ago, Neymar heard him scream for the first time in, well, ever. He didn’t even know that Ramos could scream.

“We have to score again.” Leo takes him back to the reality. “We can’t compete with them much longer. We need to score as soon as possible.”

He steps closer, puts a hand on Neymar’s back and splays out his fingers.

“Ney you need to score.”

“Me?” Neymar squawks. “Why me? You should- or Cris. You’ve both already scored once.”

“Ney.” Leo’s voice is not much more than a whisper. “They won’t let us go through. They guard us the whole time, I feel like the next time we lead an attack they will our legs.”

Neymar swallows.

“So you want me to get my legs broken instead?”

“No, of course not. You need to be fucking careful, okay? But they don’t pay as much attention to you. We will trick them into thinking we will go up to the goal but in reality you will, okay?”

“Or me.” Antoine steps up to them and gives both of them a pointed look. “The Frenchman is still here, okay?”

A small smile spreads across Leo’s lips.

“Sure. Either Ney or you. We just need a goal.”

He takes his hand away from Neymar’s back and he immediately misses the warmth. A few seconds later he realizes, that if they won’t win this he will never be able to feel Leo’s warmth anywhere on his body. And he really can’t allow that to happen.

“We will die in overtime.” Antoine is saying, still standing next to him.

Neymar breathes deeply, watches the clock, watches the additional time being held up, hears the referee machine blow the whistle, watches Leo start moving again.

“We won’t go into overtime.” He replies and then starts running.  

Everything after that is a blur of sound and colors. Neymar remembers himself running, Antoine hot on his heels. He doesn’t remember how he gets to the goal exactly, only recalls suddenly being in front of the two goalposts. It’s like he has a mini blackout once more, that comes to an end abruptly with Leo passing the ball towards him. He watches it sail through the air, hears Antoine scream something in Spanish behind him, hears the roar of the crowd when he goes up and then feels the ball hit his head hard. He doesn’t see where it goes because he crashes down on the pitch in an ungraceful heap and doesn’t have the energy to get back up. His ears are ringing and the world only stops spinning when Antoine leans over him.

His azure eyes are huge and he is crying tears of joy, well maybe its sweat, but who really cares anyways? How Neymar knows that he scored and they’ve won? He has no clue, it’s just a feeling that flows through his veins like liquid joy and his face breaks out into a euphoric grin. They’re alive.

Then Leo is suddenly above him, pulling him up and into his arms, screaming words into his ear that Neymar doesn’t understand. His mind is overloaded with all kinds of different emotions, visuals and sensations and his brain is going into panic mode once again. Neymar feels like he’s in a dream, exhausted and happy to just hold onto whoever is hugging him right now.

At some point Leo crowds back into his personal space, warps his arms around his trembling body and presses his lips to Neymar’s in a fiery kiss.

“I love you.” He says and Neymar smiles, because those words he would recognize everywhere.

[wanderluststhings]

I wish you would write a fic where… messala have their first date night after one finally blurts out their feeling to the other. (i need me more messala, March is too far away) ;)

(I found a way to settle this in the same continuity as “The Smile in his Mind”. Although I think you can read this one without that fic, I’m still linking it to you guys in case anyone’s interested.

Special thanks to @messisbeard for clearing up a little confusion I had with Argentine Spanish. Also to @luchorgasm for clarifying a detail and, alongside @prince-dybala, the enthusiasm for this accidental sequel. Notice this is the first draft, by Tuesday- yup, setting myself a deadline- a corrected version with updated events if necessary will appear in AO3)

After all the celebration in the dressing room, the players were finally discharged. Of course, Pipa got most of the praise, but the Supercoppa wasn’t as far as they wished. That influenced the Juve squad to give young Paulo some love.

“Dude, you were amazing!” Miralem cheered, as he pulled Paulo in for yet another hug. “See? I told you you hadn’t lost it. And you know what that means…”

Paulo chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, next lunch’s on me”.

“Haha, yeah piccolo!” Miralem ruffled his hair again (which did NOT resemble Bart Simpson’s) and then left. Everyone else gave him a pat in the shoulder as well.

“Tomorrow dinner at my place!” Gonzalo announced as he got into his car. Normally Paulo would drive him, but ever since the former had noticed the latter’s increasing communication with Leo, the capocannionere had begun to place a bit of a distance. Paulo felt bad, but what else could he do. His relationship with Leo had been growing steadily for the last two months, and March couldn’t come sooner, not only because then they would finally put to practice the R-rated content they instructed to each other via telephone or Skype, but also because then he might finally be able to say it. The big three words.

“I love you”.

He knew Leo cared about him, he knew he was interested in him, what he had to say and his feelings, as much as he knew he wanted him. But he couldn’t help but to feel it might be too soon yet. Of course, “too soon” hadn’t mattered when Paul left the way he had and never got the chance to say it, not in the present tense at least. But this was different. There was no transfer that would set them apart, regardless of Florentino Pérez’ delusional wishes, and now they were on their own, and he felt like a child. He knew if he faced Leo he’d blurt it out. That was why he hadn’t asked him to go to Dubai with him. He hadn’t lied when he said he couldn’t keep Leo from seeing his family and friends back home, but that fear was also there, lurking at the back of his mind and tearing him apart. So the more time passed, the better. Two more months, and if things were going as well as they currently were, he would be able to say it and it would be perfectly fine. Besides, they weren’t officially boyfriends yet, even if they pretty much acted that way. Leo had said he wanted to actually kiss him before making it so (the man measured his milestones in Hollywood film tropes, whether he admitted it or not), and he lowkey agreed. Given how far they were, he didn’t truly feel the need for a definition at that moment.

All this went through his head as he drove back home, having nodded towards Pipa upon his suggestion. He would go, it was fine. They might not be as close as they were early on, but he was still his friend. There was no way he’d leave him- besides, any chance of hanging out with everyone would be appreciated. No one knew for how much longer guys like Uncle Pat would remain in the group.

As he got to his flat, he threw himself on the couch, uploaded a nice pic from the match (the one with Miralem hugging him tight) and proceeded to phone Leo. While he could have found his de facto boyfriend’s result via social media, he liked hearing it from Leo first. And now that their matches had pretty much been simultaneous, it was a great opportunity.

“Hola…”

“Hola Leo, it’s me, Pau”.

“Oh, hi Pau…”

“What’s the matter?”

“Masche told me you scored a penalty tonight against Bologna. That’s… great, Paulo. I’m happy for you”.

“Damn it, I wanted to tell you that!” Paulo smiled as he blushed. He liked Masche, but sometimes he could keep some details and not ruin surprises. That being said, he knew he meant well. He’d been quite supportive of them, even giving him some advice regarding Leo and his emotional cues.

One being the dragged sound of his voice.

“I know that must have meant a lot to you, given how it went back in Doha…”

“Don’t remind me”

“Ha, but yeah, that’s a big boost. You didn’t seem afraid at all”.

“I wasn’t”.

“I’m proud of you, pibe”

Two months had passed since they had begun their relationship. Six months since his own first contact. Four months since Mendoza. And yet, those words always made Paulo’s heart feel fulfilled.

“Anyway, how’s Turin doing?”

But he couldn’t let that make him lose track of what he aimed to do.

“Leo, is everything okay?”

Silence by the other side of the line. Paulo paced around his living room. He hoped Leo wouldn’t hang up, eager to avoid the situation, if it was as troublesome as he feared. He didn’t want to have to call up Masche for help, or even worse, Kun.

“Yeah, I guess. We scraped one point…”

“God, no”.

“I’m sorry, Pau. But we might have lost La Liga today”.

“No, no, la concha de su madre, no” Paulo couldn’t help it, the fan within had taken control. He didn’t want Real to win, no matter how much he cared about Álvaro. He covered his mouth, both in shock and with the remainder that he had to be supportive of the man he loved.

“We tried, I swear. But even without those penalties denied to us, we just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t the day”.

“Fuck, Leo…”

“I let you down”.

“NO YOU DIDN’T” Paulo found himself shouting. Just like Leo feeling proud of him triggered that immense joy, him seeing himself as a disappointment unleashed a strange anger. Lionel Andrés Messi could not disappoint anyone. It was impossible. He was the best player there had ever been, whether FIFA acknowledged it the next day or not. He wished Leo actually understood it, instead of living with that self-doubt. Either way, he was going to let him now how wrong he was.

“YOU COULD NEVER LET ME OR ANYONE DOWN, GET IT? YOU’RE THE BEST FUCKING PLAYER THERE’S EVER BEEN. I BET YOU DID SOMETHING TODAY. YOU SAID YOU GUYS TIED. DID YOU SCORE?”

“Well, I did a freekick…”

“AND IT WAS PERFECT, RIGHT?”

“I don’t know, Paulo”.

“WHAT DID NEY SAY?”

“Well, he liked it, and all…”

Paulo kept asking Leo about players’ opinions on his goal as he turned on YouTube on the TV and searched “Lionel Messi goal against Villarreal 2017″. Indeed, it had already been uploaded, and it was as amazing as everyone else was claiming. Nothing left to say. Leo was filled with that self-doubt made from the ridiculously high expectations people had of him, even if he hadn’t just scored an amazing freekick- he’d saved Barça’s asses.

“Leo, I’m watching the freekick. Che, you’ve no idea how much I wish I could score those as well as you do. You’ve no idea how much I wish I could fend off defenders the way you do. Stop self-doubting, I know we’re pretty much screwed, but you’ve got nothing to do. You did what you had to do. You got us a point. That’s… amazing. You’re amazing” he took a deep breath, “and I love you so much-”

Paulo’s eyes widened.

He’d said it.

He’d fucking said it, two months into the still unofficial relationship.

They weren’t actually boyfriends yet, and he’d said it.

“Bye Leo” he quipped, and threw himself on the couch. He couldn’t believe himself. He’d blown it. He’d tried to be the strong one, and wound up being what he was, a fucking pibe. Un nene, 23 years old and still a fucking nene.

Paulo covered his face with a cushion, and screamed.

After dinner ended, Paulo went outside for a walk before actually heading home. The snow was particularly terrible, and he missed the sun back at his Laguna Larga. Sometimes he forgot how good it felt to go back home, and how much he needed it, regardless of time difference and what it did to his body. If he could avoid any unnecessary damage, he would.

Then again, when was the last time he’d actually spent a summer down there? He was shocked at the realization- he’d been a teenager, still playing for Instituto, showing all those European agents eager to see the fallen great there was much more to see in la B, in all of Argentina, than those gallinas. It had been centuries. A lot had happened since then, and Paulo tried to shake off the longing. He had to focus. He had a career to fulfill, a dream to carry out. He couldn’t let nostalgia blur him. No summers at home for the following fifteen years or so, and that was it. Final decision.

Sensing that eerie yet familiar heaviness he had felt within him for the last eight years or so, he kept walking, until he stopped in his tracks.

Leo was standing right in front of him.

He was still wearing the suit he’d taken to the ceremony, more conservative than other times (Griezmann was certainly the heir to the questionable fashion sense). With his hair back to his natural hair color, but keeping the beard, Leo looked mature and sure of himself, completely unaffected by the earlier gala’s results. Paulo tried to mentally search for a more stunning image, and failed miserably at it.

“Pau, hola”.

“Ho… hola, Leo, ¿que hacés acá?” he asked, still wondering if the stress had finally caught up with his sanity.

“I came to see you. Well, I wanted to congratulate Pipa, but I already texted him, and well, he told me you guys would celebrate his goals, so I figured you’d be here and…” He smiled timidly, and the heaviness was gone. Paulo felt like himself again, and smiled back, widely, joyfully.

“Did I tell you your smile is beautiful?” Leo asked, and turned away a little. He was blushing.

“Ha, a few times, but so does my mom” Paulo chuckled, as he pulled closer. The fog of his words were now covering Leo’s face, and he looked up, his gaze so loving. The immeasurable joy was now fueling every single cell of Paulo’s being, like small bubbles.

“So” Leo said, seductively, “do you know any places nearby? I didn’t congratulate you on that goal like I should have. I wanna make it up to you”.

Paulo relished in the small fog covering his own face.

“Follow me” he said as he held Leo’s left hand with his own.

Having barely eaten at the Pipa dinner, the cozy restaurant where Paulo liked to go when he wanted to disappear from the spotlight while also not necessarily wanting to cook felt heavenlier than ever. They ordered two salads- after all, they both had (simultaneous) matches on Wednesday- and talked about how things were going at their clubs and cities.

“And that’s why we won’t be able to count on Gerard for the following three matches” Leo finished his tale, and put some lettuce with smoked salmon into his mouth.

“WOW” Paulo exclaimed. “I mean, kudos to him for standing up to those hijos de puta, but his absence is going to hurt. And you guys need to win on Wednesday”. He proceeded to eat another piece.

“I know, that’s why Andrés was mad at him. But he claims we would’ve been fucked anyway, with the refs being sold”.

“I bet he sees himself as some sort of martyr”.

“Yeah, that will be a key factor in his presidential campaign”.

Both men laughed.

“So, how’s it going with you guys in la Shuve?”

“Haha, well, we’re going strong, we got ourselves a Venezuelan but he seems nice, I hope it all turns out fine”.

“He should, Masche complained a lot about him after the Mérida match”.

“Can’t blame him. It hurts me to say it, but we owe Lucas that point”.

“Your bostero is showing, che” he chuckled.

“Shut up” he smiled and took a sip of water. “Anyway, we’re all working towards the sixth Scudetto. That would be historical, you know?”

Leo nodded.

“It would be amazing, making it into the history of the club, with all those greats. That’s the goal, many of us playing, but actually being worthy of history? It’s insane, and so hard… if I could be part of it… whah! I…” The excitement got the better of him, and he looked up to the ceiling, to the sky, his gaze heavenly. You’d be so proud, Dad.

“So it means you’re staying here?” Leo said, warily. Paulo looked at him, reminded of reality. All those negotiations, his outburst when he remembered the Olympics, the delay in his diagnosis…

“I’m not going there, by the way” he warned. He then looked down, and continued with a disappointed note in his voice. “I love this club, you know? They really put me in the international spotlight, all by themselves. No River Plate to justify people looking at me. That Ballon d’Or nomination, I owe it to them. All the praise, I owe it to them. And let’s be honest- if I have started games in the NT, it’s because of them. But I need to keep growing, you know, I want to see other footballs in this continent before reaching my thirties and going back home. Italy is great, but I want to feel part of a truly attacking team, a team that actually plays well… I wouldn’t be shady, though, I owe them so much, I could never pull a Pogba… Leo, there’s so much I want to do, and time seems so little…”

“Trust me, you have a lot of time left” Leo said. “I’m turning thirty this year, and I have very little regrets. But you can’t do it all. Even if I went back to Ñuls after Russia, I’d be 31. Even today I’m not the guy I was when I was your age. Imagine two more years. I will never be able to give them my best. But I couldn’t leave Barça. I love this club with all my heart, and I don’t regret a thing. But to stay here forever… I want to go back to Rosario eventually, be with my family, la banda”.

“I know” Paulo said, thinking back to his own melancholy.

Leo ate some more.

“So, that haircut looks good on you”.

“FINALLY SOMEONE SAYS IT” Paulo lifted his arms to the sky as Leo laughed. “Wait… you mean it, right? Not just because you, you know…”

“Love you?”

“Yeah!… Wait, you do?”

“I do, Paulo. I just wanted to wait until we were actually boyfriends to tell you, but since you beat me, well…”

Paulo smiled, as he saw an opportunity.

“Speaking of, you said you wanted to wait until we met face to face to make it official with a romantic film-worthy kiss”.

“Che, I never said it had to be romantic-film worthy!” Leo complained jokingly.

“Ha ha, well, thing is, I’m here. You’re here. We’re here”.

He fixated his gaze on Leo. The rosarino smiled and leaned in.

Paulo thought of an old story he’d read when he was a kid. When the protagonist’s first kiss came, at first they felt each other’s lips with their own. Then they felt each other with their lips. Years later, he could say he understood.

He could feel Leo’s being through the kiss, through his lips. He’d never seen him as clearly, despite his eyes being closed. The beard was a bit itchy, but soon he lost track of it. His soul was exploding with that joy, that fulfillment. Except something was missing. He hoped it wouldn’t tire them a lot, Leo still had to go to Barcelona to resume training. Either way, it wasn’t that urgent. They could finish their salads.

They finally separated, smiling like a pair of pibes. Deep inside, they’d never stop being that.

And for that night, for one night at least, Paulo didn’t mind.