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Campeones
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Alphas don’t cry. Alphas don’t cry. Alphas don’t cry.
Neymar repeated those words to himself. And then he repeated them again. He’d grown up hearing those words. He knew those words were true– his Dad had fought with him for years to make sure that he understood that they were true. So why was his face wet? And why couldn’t he stop shaking?
Alphas don’t cry. Alphas don’t cry.
It was a warm summer night in July and Brazil had just lost to Argentina in a final.
0-1. Neymar hadn’t scored. Brazil hadn’t scored. It was a game in Brazil– a final in Brazil– and they hadn’t scored. His team had needed Neymar to make something happen and he had failed. A loud, wretched sound came from somewhere deep within him. He was sobbing on the pitch. He could feel the cameras zooming in on him and he could taste the mucus running into his mouth. He was the most pathetic alpha alive, probably the most pathetic alpha in all of history.
He was supposed to win.
His tears were ferocious at this point– he’s crying so hard it hurts, it feels almost like he’s dying when suddenly there’s a pair of arms wrapping around him and holding him tight.
He knows he shouldn’t want to see Leo right now. But he holds onto the Argentine for dear life.
He hugs Leo so tight that he’s afraid that they’re going to end up tumbling to the ground. But Leo is strong— he hugs him back, supports him, rocks him back and forth. Leo’s moving his arms up and down his back and he doesn’t have to say anything at all and Neymar already feels better. And fuck if the hold this man had over him wasn’t more than a little embarrassing.
“Can you come back to my room?” Leo whispered.
“Okay.” Neymar sniffled back. He clings onto his friend a little tighter, not wanting this embrace to end just yet.
When they’re this close together Neymar can smell the scent that’s permanently stuck to Leo’s skin: cotton candy. It’s the most stereotypical omega scent imaginable, which Neymar finds endearing and Leo finds mortifying. He breathes it in.
And now there’s another thought in Neymar’s mind: omegas aren’t even supposed to be playing football. The very idea is really nothing more than a bad punchline. They weren’t supposed to be able to make it through a match, let alone captain a side or win a Copa America final away against fucking Brazil. But then again it’s not just any omega— it’s Leo Messi— and the rules don’t ever seem to apply to him.
When Leo’s teammates get too close– they’re celebrating, totally oblivious to Neymar’s breakdown– Leo pushed them away and somehow held onto Neymar tighter. There’s a deep sense of shame gnawing away inside of him. If Leo is the exception to every rule, what does that make him? What sort of alpha needed to have his tears wiped away by an omega?
What kind of alpha loses a fucking football match to an omega?
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Leo’s hotel was within walking distance to the stadium.
Or really, it was within running distance to the stadium.
Leo led the way– his hand gripped Neymar’s tight and it was like he was still playing the match with how fast his legs were running. Neymar was trying his best to keep up, but honestly he wasn’t in the mood for this at all. Leo’s easy happiness stung him.
He wondered what Leo was doing in the universe where he was the one who lost the final. Neymar knew if they got to play this match 10 times, Brazil would win it 9 times. There were probably thousands of alternate worlds where he was having the night of his life, having just won his first major trophy with his country. That’s what being from Brazil should mean– being a winner.
He suspected that the Leo and Neymar in that world wouldn’t be running through the streets of Rio with nothing but Covid masks and baseball caps to hide their identities.
Leo’s ankle was still bloody, but he ran like he was lighter than air.
They came close to bumping into people and all Leo would do is laugh breathlessly and keep running. Neymar was pulled along behind him. How far away were they? He didn’t want to bump into anyone. That would be a lot to explain– Neymar letting Messi drag his ass back to the Argentine hotel after he beat him. He didn’t even know if he could explain it to someone if they asked.
Leo took him to the back of the hotel, avoiding the lobby where no doubt a party was being set up for the Champions of South America. Fuck, what could Leo have to say that was so important that he was skipping out on his first ever international trophy celebration?
Even once they were in the elevator, Leo didn’t let go of Neymar’s hand. They smelt awful- they were both covered in sweat and had snuck out of the stadium without even showering. Nobody even knew they were gone except for Kun, whom Leo had winked at on the way out. Kun had given his friend two thumbs up in response. Neymar could only pray that his teammates wouldn’t be too mad at him for doing this.
How much of a mistake he had made dawned on him more and more as Leo led him through the hallways. The blue and white colors on all the doors sent a simple message– Neymar was somewhere he never should have been.
Leo glanced at him with a nervous grin when they reached his room. He followed his friend inside and the door was closed behind him.
The room was small. He could tell which was Kun’s bed– unmade and messy with clothes thrown everywhere– and which was Leo’s– the one that wasn’t a total disaster. It looked homely, but it made Neymar’s skin crawl being here. He was deep inside enemy territory now.
The fact that the enemy was his friend who he was more than a little in love with was besides the point.
Leo looked at him with his big brown eyes. He had a big smile on his face and usually Neymar couldn’t resist that smile but now it filled him with irritation. What was he doing here? He should be back with his team, they needed him. He knew he wasn’t the only one devastated by this loss. He should leave Leo to make his stupid cute smiley faces with his fellow champions.
“Kun told me I should tell you.” Leo said.
“Tell me what?” His friend looked shyly down at the ground. “Leo?”
He took a deep breath.
“I like you, Ney.” Leo said. He didn’t make eye contact with him. “Honestly, more than I’ve liked any other alpha.”
He waited for Leo to say more but he just continued staring at the ground.
“Is that what you wanted to say?” Neymar says quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.” Neymar said dumbly. “I thought…” He struggled to find the words he was looking for. “You said you didn’t want to be with anyone. That’s what you said when we were at Barcelona– you told me that you were done with alphas.” That’s what you said when I asked if we could be together.
“I know and… It wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t like alphas anymore because of what had happened with Cristiano… and… and I know you’re not like that Ney.” He finally looked up at him. “You’re the only alpha I know who’s not like that.”
Leo means it as a compliment but it feels like a slap in the face. Leo only liked him because he didn’t see him as a real alpha.
The amount of anger he felt actually shocked him. He doesn’t speak and a few seconds go by where he actually hates Leo. He hates everything about the omega– how Argentine he is, how short he is, how he never seemed to pick up on the most basic of social cues, how he slept with an alpha like Cristiano and probably countless others but until now never showed any interest in Neymar– he hates how every single thing in the universe seems to revolve around him and how Neymar can’t ever seem to escape. He hated that Leo just assumed that Neymar spent years pining over him, waiting for Leo to return his feelings. And most of all he hated that he was right.
Leo reached up to kiss him. He had to stand on his toes and Neymar leaned down to make it easier on him. He still felt angry even as he kissed back. But still, there was something in how shy Leo was during this that lit a fire in Neymar’s belly. He felt himself hardening.
On the pitch, Leo was to be respected, even feared. Neymar knew, deep down, he was probably kissing the greatest footballer of all time. But also, at the end of the day, he really was just another omega. An omega that would whimper and get wet and cry out to be fucked, just like any other omega. He really wanted to see Leo like that. A sick part of him felt that Leo deserved it– that he needed to be reminded of what he really was, football god or no.
When Neymar pulled away, Leo’s lips were red and he had a goofy grin on his face. The room was now filled with the sweet scent of cotton candy.
“Take off your clothes.”