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Kylian doesn’t even have the time to register his teammate’s call of his name when a sudden force hits his head.
He feels the ground around him tilting and he blinks, sees double of wiggling figures running towards him. His feet topples sideways and he barely feels it when he falls down to the ground.
He faints to the sight of a bright sun looking at him. It’s smiling.
-
Kylian’s dreams, to his awareness, are as normal as they can be.
Most of the time, they slip from his mind the moment he wakes up. Some that he remembers vividly often shares the same theme- football. It’s not surprising that he dreams of the players too, maybe someone from his club or a player he’s talked to once on the field.
So when Neymar appears in his dream, Kylian isn’t surprised, not really.
What takes him aback is that Neymar is in his dream, naked and placing kisses all over his chest.
He lays frozen as his teammate continues to give attention to his body. His first thought goes this is one realistic dream.
His second thought runs along the line of I didn’t know I’m gay.
The fact that it comes as an afterthought tells him a lot about how he’s already knew deep down, somehow. He’s just never had the chance to acknowledge it- not until now, in one of the most bizarre dreams he’s experiencing.
“Morning.”
Oh, even the voice is realistic.
“Morning,” he echoes dumbly, staring at the ceiling. He’s still refusing to look at the face.
The dream itself isn’t that strange, he’s woken up hard with curvy bodies still lingering in his mind, maybe some fragments of long blonde or brunette hair. Sometimes their face have a resemblance to a model he follows on Instagram or an actress he’s currently watching.
Definitely not raspy voice and short curly hair, tattoos that he’s familiar with, but not in that intimate sense.
When the body above him leans up, Kylian can’t forever avoid looking at the owner’s face, especially not when Neymar takes him by the mouth, eyes close as Kylian stares wide open.
He closes when the kiss gets deeper and his mouth moves instinctively, the feeling somehow natural, like he’s done it a million times before.
It also seems natural that he places his hand on Neymar’s waist, and he tries not to lose his nerves knowing that if he goes lower, he’d feel his teammate’s bare bottom.
He still has his eyes close when they pull apart and for a horrifying second, his lips automatically chases for its partner again. Neymar laughs, giving a peck on his lips before he sits up, sliding off the bed.
“I’ll shower first, I have to clean up the mess you made last night,” he says while taking some things from the dresser.
Kylian’s face burns with mortification when he sees the litters of hickeys and questionable dried fluids on Neymar's body.
“Feel free to join me.” Neymar walks, no sashays, into the bathroom, shameless of his nakedness.
Kylian is in the middle of thinking if lucid dreams are supposed to be this realistic when Neymar pops his head out of the doorway, smiling. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve planned for the weekend.”
He nods absently, to which Neymar raises his brows. “You’ve been real quiet.” He comments.
Kylian clears his throat. “Just sleepy.”
Neymar heads back into the bathroom after observing Kylian lying motionless on the bed. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous, isn’t this just a dream? A suspicious premonition brews inside him the longer he lays there.
He waits until the sound of shower begins before laying his hand on his left arm. Looking around the unfamiliar room, he promptly pinches the skin.
He instantly lets out a yelp from the pain but it’s nothing compared to the dread that dawns on him a few seconds after.
“What the fuck.”
-
“This shouldn’t be happening.”
Neymar smiles, his head lying on his arm on the table. With the way the sun filters through the window, he looks like a cat sunbathing on the windowsill. It nerves Kylian how laidback the other is. “But it is. And I’ve been waiting for this day.”
“Let me get this straight. Future me told you that I jumped into the future? And I’m just gonna jump right back after it’s done?”
“Yup. For a day or two, I think.” Neymar laughs. “You should relax.” He sits up straight and pats the table, beckoning Kylian like he’s a child. “Come, take a seat, your cereal has gone soggy.”
Kylian stares at him.
Neymar has changed. That much is obvious- but Kylian isn’t talking about the physical sense.
Despite supposedly being six years older, he looks almost like the person Kylian sees on the field yesterday. Same brown hair, although he’s slightly grown the shaved sides, and a stubble to his jaw. There’s a little more crinkle beside his eyes though- a sign that Neymar has been happy. Perhaps that’s why the other hasn’t aged much.
Taking into context of their alleged future relationship, Kylian feels odd at knowing he’s happy with Kylian.
Past that external appearance though, is where the differences really stand out.
Neymar is visibly much more mature. Kylian would have chalked it up to the natural process of growing older, but it’s not about that mentality as much as it is more of the way the other carries himself relaxedly. There’s an invisible burden absent on him, one that his timeline’s Neymar carries.
Kylian thinks of a certain event that only happens every four years.
He postpones the thought, in favor of explaining to Neymar how this time-bending reality is simply impossible and should be taken seriously, and they shouldn’t be eating cereals-
Neymar yawns, the audacity, and just waits for Kylian to finish his existential crisis.
He eventually relents and sits across Neymar, who brightens up as he looks at Kylian with affection.
That’s one more thing that Kylian has been continuously trying to ignore.
Neymar and him are lovers.
-
Conveniently, his phone is lying on a container of rice grains.
“Your phone fell to the jacuzzi yesterday.” Neymar explains.
Kylian picks up the device from the grains. “It’s like the universe knows I’m going to time travel.” He tries turning it on, holding the button and waiting for the screen to light up futilely.
Neymar lets out a small laugh. “If you put it that way, yeah.”
Surprisingly, Kylian doesn’t feel upset. Despite his inquisitiveness nature, he doesn’t feel the need to look at the media nor contact his friends or family. He likes this, he decides, free of burdens and pressure.
He takes a seat on the couch, on the other end far from Neymar, who instantly radiated disappointment even when he neutralizes his face.
Kylian feels a little terrible, but it’s difficult to get used to the notion that he’ll be dating Neymar, his teammate and friend. Yes, they might be close on the pitch, have spent hours strategizing over football, and crack jokes in locker rooms like bros do, but that’s where the line stops.
He can’t imagine him and Neymar in the romantic sense, it’s just doesn’t sound plausible.
But apparently it is, if this future isn’t a whole made up lie.
The scene playing on the TV is from some old blockbuster movie that has been rerun a hundred times on the French cable channel. He notices that there’s no subtitles.
“You’re good at French,” he says abruptly, turning to Neymar.
In the midst of his justified panic of time-traveling, he’s failed to register that Neymar has been speaking to him conversationally in French. It’s slightly broken, but definitely fluent enough to be understood easily.
Neymar chuckles. “Well, I better be. I’ve been dating you for years now, what kind of boyfriend am I if I can’t speak it?”
“Years?”
“Well…” Neymar trails off. “Maybe not that long for other people, but it feels long enough for me.”
So two years is possible, Kylian thinks. But it could be three, or four, or even five.
“I’m not gonna tell you when we started dating.” Neymar smiles, like he knows what Kylian is thinking.
“And do I speak Portuguese?”
Neymar nods. “Damn good at it, too. You’re a natural learner.”
Kylian silently delights at the praise.
There’s an itch in his brain, however, and something else feels out of place. He looks at the sight of Paris outside and then at the French dubbed movie.
When the realization hits him, he whips his head so fast that Neymar startles.
“There’s no way I’m still playing for PSG, right?”
Neymar blinks in surprise, but it seems to be more because of Kylian’s outburst rather than the context. His startle is quickly taken over by a laugh and Kylian waits with pulse thundering against his ears.
“Did you not notice the turned over frames and how there’s a big cloth draped over a rectangular object? In the hallway?” Neymar chuckles, nodding to a shelf where there is, in fact, a few frames lying face down.
“What?” Kylian shifts towards the direction, brows furrowing. “Is that supposed to be me… in my new club?”
The questions rolls off hesitantly, and he’s surprised that he feels more nervous than he is excited.
“Yes, there are hints of your current club, like jersey.” Neymar coughs. “Holding trophies.” Coughs. “Major ones.”
“That’s plural.”
“Of course.” Neymar says easily, as if it couldn’t be any other way.
From his peripheral, Kylian sees Neymar smiling with pride. It sends an electric jolt to his heart, knowing that Neymar cares this much for him.
He slowly stands up from the couch, walking towards the frames. A vase of pink flowers sits beside them. There isn’t many frames, just six, and three are downturned. The other half consists of Neymar and Kylian, all images of them close-up, like a selfie.
He swallows when he sees the look he gives Neymar in the photos. That’s a face of someone in love.
“You can open them, if you want. I flipped them right after you told me this morning. I thought you wouldn’t want spoilers.”
Kylian’s fingers teeters on the black wooden frame. He’s delaying time. “When I was in the showers?”
“Yeah.” A small laugh. “You should have seen the way I rushed, knocked over things and all.”
Kylian trails his finger one last time before turning back. He flops down on the couch as Neymar chuckles.
“Not gonna take a peek?”
“No,” he says resolutely. His stomach flutters at the thought of Neymar knowing him well enough when Kylian himself was still uncertain. “So, this isn’t where I live, right?”
“No, this is just a shared house we bought together. Although I’ve started living here recently, trying to make it homey.”
A thought strikes him. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Where do you play at?” He clarifies.
Neymar shakes his head. “I’ve retired.”
He says it nonchalantly and there’s no trace of sadness on his face, just observing Kylian with that smile on his face.
Kylian’s stomach pummels as a rush of mixed emotions run through him.
“But you’re only thirty-seven," He says, suddenly feeling indignant on Neymar’s behalf. You’re Neymar Jr. You’re my teammate. “You were just playing football with me yesterday.”
“I’m thirty-seven.”
“So?”
“Kylian, what?” Neymar laughs, he’s always been easily amused and Kylian’s glad to know it still holds true until now. Although he doesn’t know what about this is amusing. “It’s a good age to retire, and you know, I have a lot of injuries, it’s just not possible for me to play anymore.” He sighs. “I’m satisfied with my career, if that’s what you were curious about.”
“But are you happy?” Because being satisfied and being happy is two different things.
Neymar hums. “You make me happy.”
Kylian feels the emotions inside him that were supposed to burst suddenly tamps down, like anticipating a roller coaster to fall, only to find it’s not as steep as expected. Then, it suddenly does a turn and there’s a completely new course set for him- he can see the ups and downs are higher than the previous one.
That’s how he feels starting from Neymar’s retirement news up till his last sentence.
-
He doesn't ask about the World Cup.
-
The rest of the day is spent with Kylian asking questions, to which Neymar replies vaguely to some, while in full detail for the rest.
Kylian easily categorizes the answers, once he learns the patterns.
If he asks about how their relationship started, anything related to the beginnings, Neymar will answer vaguely. He says he doesn’t want the future to influence Kylian’s actions. I want it to be of your own accord, not because you know how it happens.
If he asks about what they do in the current time, Neymar will reply enthusiastically, sometime a little too much that he has to stop Neymar in the middle with flushed face.
I didn’t know I’m that kinky, he this with embarrassment.
Kylian learns later that Neymar had been teasing him.
“When else do I get the chance to meet a six years younger you?”
That’s fair, and Kylian can’t really argue with that. He still keeps wariness of what Neymar says though, putting effort in differentiating when the other is being serious or joking.
For other topics, Neymar will answer vaguely when it comes to football, sometimes drifting off and Kylian finds himself preferring it that way. Other non-football related things, however, is answered with as much clarity as he could.
“How’s my family?”
“They’re healthy and doing well.”
Kylian nods. “That’s good.” Then he drops his fork. “Holy shit, Ethan’s twenty-two years old right now. That’s almost my age.”
Neymar laughs, reaching to pick up the food dropped into the plate’s side. “He is.”
“That’s crazy to think about. I can't imagine how he looks like.”
“Do you want to see a picture?” Neymar takes out his phone. “I have a recent photo of him.”
When he sees the picture of Ethan, he tries to keep his composure. Neymar looks at him with knowing eyes. “He’s grown up so much, hasn’t he?”
Kylian feels pride blooming in his heart.
“Tell him not to dye his hair that color ever again.”
Neymar laughs, shaking his head. “That’s what present you said too.”
-
“I didn’t know you cook.”
He looks at the pot of stew and pieces of grilled chicken on another pan. They smell mouth-watering.
“I don’t,” Neymar says as he cracks another egg.
“So, what is this?” He asks, trying to take a piece of the chicken. Neymar slaps his hand away.
"Your favorites," Neymar says as he beats the eggs together.
Kylian narrows his eyes at the food. “They are?”
“Well, they will be in the future. I perfected the recipes for you.”
“I thought you said you don’t cook?”
“I don’t. Just learned your favorite ones.”
Neymar kicks him out of the kitchen when he successfully snatches a grilled chicken.
-
“I’m going to the jacuzzi, feel free to join!" Neymar had shouted to him a good ten minutes ago while Kylian was in the toilet.
Now, he walks to their backyard with a towel draped around his neck. His eyes instantly land on a shirtless Neymar who’s lounging in said jacuzzi, a bottle and a glass of wine beside his resting head. He lifts from his arms when he notices Kylian, and he beckons Kylian over with a smile.
Kylian slides the already parted glass doors wider, the night air sending goosebumps to his skin.
He knows they’ll eventually be lovers, already are in this timeline, but his head still hasn’t fully wrap around the fact, no matter the evidence strewn around the house- the photos, the clothes, Kylian’s favorite French brand of chips, and Neymar’s Brazilian music blasting through the speakers.
On the other hand, despite Neymar’s claims that they’ve barely lived in this house, partly because Kylian plays in another country, he’s already seen how this house can be their home.
It’s strange, but Kylian doesn’t find himself disliking it. He’s looking forward to seeing more clues of them, in fact. He’d say in his brain that he’s just looking for things to convince himself that they’re in a relationship, although a part of him admits he just wants that skip of his heartbeat every time he finds traces of them.
“C’mon, what are you doing just standing there?” Neymar looks at him with mirth.
Kylian walks towards him and pulls off his shirt. He knows he looks good, muscles flexing as Neymar watches him, sipping his wine. He crouches down and gingerly wiggles his feet in the waters, testing the hot temperature.
Neymar laughs at his antics, pulling at his arm lightly.
He dips himself into the pool, body half in and leans back, sighing at the pleasant feeling. He didn’t think he would have gotten this kind of respite in his timeline, with matches after matches every week. He feels a familiar gaze on him, and he turns to see Neymar looking back at him with fondness.
“So, what do you think of your future?” He takes another sip and miniscule droplets of water drips from his curls at the movement. He offers the wine to Kylian.
Kylian politely declines and glances away.
I can’t imagine dating you. It feels insensitive to say that, when he can see the adoration in Neymar’s eyes, no matter how much the other tries to compose his face around him. He’s seen the casual way Neymar looks at him in his timeline, and it contrast strikingly when compared to this.
That statement isn’t all that true, anyways. Even if he doesn’t feel that romantic attraction yet, there’s definitely lust already coursing through him.
“Career wise, I think I’m at a great place,” he says carefully. Neymar gives a sound of affirmation, waiting for him to say more. “Although, I can be wrong- you didn’t tell me much.”
“Well,” Neymar puts down his glass. “I guess it’s relative, but to me, you’ve reached a lot of milestones.”
“But is future me satisfied?”
A laugh bubbles out of Neymar. “You’re just like my present Kylian. Grateful, yes, but never satisfied. You always know you can do more. I like that about you.”
Kylian’s heart skips a beat. “You do?” He asks, even though he knows Neymar’s probably referencing to future him.
Neymar nods and his smile turns soft. “There’s a lot of things I like about you.”
I’m essentially the same person, he wants to say. “Have I changed?” He asks instead.
Neymar hums. “I say, you’re definitely more mature now, grown-up. Although, you’ve always been mature even when you were young. It’s one of the reasons why I fell for you.”
Fell for you. Kylian swallows.
Neymar continues. “You’re always calm, collected, and assured. You get impatient and stubborn at times, but you’re always good to me.”
Kylian darts his eyes away, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m glad.”
Neymar laughs. “Sorry, you’re probably not used to this, us.”
“It’s fine,” he mutters sheepishly, he glances back. “You’ve changed too, you know.”
Neymar perks up, and Kylian can feel the curiosity and anticipation in his voice. “Enlighten me.”
Kylian thinks on what to say. You’re older now seems to be obvious and you’re milder now is too vague and can be taken the wrong way.
“You’re more attentive,” he settles on saying. “You know me better than I do, my likes and dislikes too.”
Neymar smiles delightedly. “I’m glad that’s apparent. I do love you, after all.”
Kylian’s throat ran dry as he stares at Neymar, who laughs in amusement. It’s probably the wine, he thinks. “Sorry, sorry. You don’t have to say anything back, I know you don’t feel that way as of now.”
“But I will?” He croaks out.
Neymar observes him instead of replying, and he turns away, staring at the sky.
“You say it to me every day.” He sighs, but it doesn’t sound like the tired one. More of the tender kind, the one where it feels like he can’t believe it either.
Kylian doesn’t reply and follows Neymar in watching the night sky- he can see two tiny stars. A lapse of silence falls over them, with the sound of water splash and the hum of jacuzzi in the air.
“Does the public know? About us?” He eventually asks in a quieter tone. In some way, the night has turned a little more private.
Neymar nods, sipping the wine that he has taken back. “They do.”
Kylian can imagine the eruption following that news. Two famous footballers in a gay relationship. It sounds stressful enough in his head, he can only wonder how much more it will be in real life.
Although he doesn’t have to wonder, you’ll be dealing with it eventually too, his brain unhelpfully supplies.
“Was it difficult?”
Neymar hums, taking his time to think about it. “There’s always going to be obstacles,” he finally says. “But we go through it together.” He laughs. “That sounded deeper in my head.”
“It’s profound enough coming from a drunk you.”
Neymar’s face scrunches in a laugh again, a bit of the red drink spilling. Definitely the alcohol, Kylian watches with a smile.
“You never told me about what you think of our relationship, by the way,” Neymar says after he’s lightened down.
Kylian formulates his thoughts. I can’t imagine dating you doesn’t seem to hold true anymore. He can see now, how he might fall for Neymar, and how the two of them complement each other.
“It’s okay.” Neymar smiles knowingly. “You can be honest.”
“Okay,” he nods. “I would be lying if I say I dislike this. You.”
“Yeah?” Neymar sips his wine. “Go on.”
“And we’re both prominent football players too, we probably make a power couple.”
Neymar slightly chokes up on his wine as a laugh tried to surface out of him. Kylian watches in amusement as Neymar wipes the red liquid from his chin.
“It’s definitely not what I expected,” he admits after Neymar is composed. “I didn’t even know I was bisexual until this morning.”
“I didn’t know I was bisexual either, not until you,” Neymar confesses. “Or maybe I’m just you-sexual.”
“So I was your gay awakening?”
Neymar bit his lips. “Probably- oh, never mind. I think I might have been attracted to Leo before.”
Kylian frowns. “It’s always him.”
Neymar laughs. "That’s something I haven’t seen in a while, the jealousy.”
“Really?”
“Present you has gotten over it, or more like, he’s more self-assured.” Neymar’s eyes turned wistful. “My Kylian is the one who makes me jealous now, he’s grown up, in his peak, a lot of people want him.”
Something itches Kylian’s heart. “Why do say that?”
“What?”
“Referring to future me as your Kylian. We’re basically the same person, right?”
Neymar smiles, albeit brows furrowing. “You two act differently though, in a younger-older sense. You’re like a child to me right now.”
“Don’t say that.” Kylian’s throat dries up. He takes the glass of wine from Neymar’s hand, drinks the leftover before placing it beside.
“Why not?” Neymar’s eyes turn hooded when Kylian moves closer in response. “You’re visibly immature compared to him.”
He places his hand on Neymar’s waist. He leans in, mouth barely touching. “I can learn to be better than him.”
He tastes the wine on his lips when Neymar closes in. Neymar’s hands wrap around his neck naturally like the way his hands instinctively caresses the smooth skin of Neymar’s body. The water splashes aloud as he pulls Neymar onto his lap, the other tilting his head sideways to slot their lips seamlessly.
Neymar feels divine against him, kissing him in all the right ways, like he’s learnt and done it a million times before.
I get to have this every day in the future, Kylian thinks with slight jealousy.
Neymar pulls apart breathless, chest heaving for air.
“Why do I feel like I’m cheating on you by kissing you?” He laughs airily.
Kylian takes him back by the mouth. “Don’t think about him,” he says in between gaps for air.
He can feel Neymar’s body reverberating, the kiss slipping off as Neymar’s mouth turn into a smile. It doesn’t disrupt Kylian though, who latches his lips on Neymar’s jaw. He places soft kisses on the skin, and he feels Neymar’s hand slowly roam downwards on his body.
Kylian lets the hand wander a little before he parts his mouth away from Neymar. “I’ve never had gay sex,” he confesses.
“I know,” Neymar says. “Our first times will be with each other in the past.”
“Oh. So, you knew we weren’t going to do it here?”
“Well… To be honest, present you said his memories of the time travel is blurry.” Neymar chuckles. “So, who knows if we actually fucked or not.” His face turns reminisce. “Although it was sweet when we did it together in the past. We were so clumsy.”
Kylian’s heart flutters. That does sound nice, learning things together. He understands now, why Neymar said he feels like cheating on future Kylian. He feels like he’s cheating on his timeline’s Neymar even though they aren’t even in a relationship to begin with, yet.
Neymar turns his attention back to Kylian, a finger playing with the ear absently. “So, what do you wanna do?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t want to stop right now,” he admits.
Neymar chuckles. “Okay, whatever you want.” He places a light kiss on Kylian’s forehead. “We can do small things first, like a handjob, then see where it goes from there. Just tell me whenever you want to stop.”
Kylian nods and their lips attach back effortlessly together.
-
“I do like this,” he whispers.
For a while, he thinks Neymar has fallen asleep, but an equally soft voice sounds from the body in front of him. “Us?”
“Us.”
Neymar rolls over, burrowing his head on Kylian’s chest. “I’m glad.”
He hugs Neymar closer, their legs tangling under the blankets. Neymar’s body is warm against him, and he can’t help but press a kiss on the curly hair.
He thinks of the Neymar in his timeline, is he worrying about me?
Kylian doesn’t know if he’ll return on the same moment he left, or if a day has passed like it has here. Will he retain his memories clearly or will bits of it instantly fade from his mind, gradually ending up as a blurry memory, like his future self said?
He tightens his embrace on Neymar, who’s already fallen asleep, snoring softly.
I don’t want to forget. He wants to return with Neymar’s touch still lingering on him, the way he looks at Kylian, the attentive care and love that only comes from the intimacy of spending countless days together.
There’s a lot of things to lose now that he’s gotten the chance to taste the future. And he can’t afford to forget them.
-
“I was thinking, we should do something meaningful.”
Neymar swallows the cordon bleu in his mouth. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, but since it’s probably my last day here, I want to do something other than just lounging in the house.”
“I like lounging around here.”
“C’mon,” Kylian insists, taking Neymar’s hand.
The latter eyes it warily before conceding. “What do you wanna do? But we can’t go outside, we’re going to get recognized. It probably won’t be a meaningful experience if we’re just gonna have paparazzi following us.”
Kylian bites his lips. It’s more difficult to think of an activity when outdoors is excluded. He looks around the room, and his eyes land on the pink flowers by the picture frames.
“What about gardening?”
Neymar chokes on his food.
“That was unexpected,” he says after drinking. “I mean, I’m in, but none of us has gardened before.”
Kylian furrows his brows. “You don’t?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “What makes you think I do?”
“There’s a lot of those pink flowers around, here, in the bedroom, kitchen. I thought you take care of them.”
Neymar looks towards the vase. “The carnations, you mean. They’re my favorite flowers.”
“Yeah, is that what they’re called?” Kylian keeps a mental note.
Neymar nods, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t take care of them. They’re plastics.”
“Oh.” Kylian deflates. “Well, that’s disappointing.”
“Don’t give me that look. You think I have that much free time to care for live ones? Actually, don’t answer that,” he retracts when Kylian raises his brows judgmentally. “Pick another activity.”
Kylian looks around once again. “There’s nothing to do here.”
“We literally have a pool table, a swimming pool, a gym, karaoke room-”
“That was probably your idea.”
Neymar ignores him. “An arcade machine, a PS7, so many video games, and like, so many other things.”
“I want it to have an impact.”
“It can be mundane and impactful at the same time," Neymar says carefully. "What’s all this about? Afraid you’ll forget?”
Kylian flusters that Neymar sees right through him.
“So, I’m right.” Neymar smiles perceptively. “I told you, you shouldn’t let the future influence your actions.”
“No, listen. What if this was an alternate universe? And when I go back, it will be a different timeline than this one.”
“Wow, you’ve really thought about this, huh?”
“Yes. So what if?” He persists.
“Well,” Neymar shrugs. “Then whatever happens, happens.”
“You’re so relaxed.” Kylian groans. “It’s probably because you’re already in this future.”
Neymar quirks up a smile. “You’re right. What happens in your timeline is not my problem. I have my Kylian with me.”
He glares at Neymar. “Then what if this wasn’t an alternate universe? I can mess up the past, and this future will be gone, your Kylian will be gone.”
Neymar chuckles. “Okay. That means I won’t have any knowledge of this, so I won’t know what I’ve lost.”
Kylian frowns. That’s just hollow and depressing. He doesn’t want that to happen either.
“Look,” Neymar starts, taking back Kylian’s attention. His thumb caresses the hand holding him. “The fact that the universe took you all the way to the future just to show you this already says something, doesn’t it? They wouldn’t go through all the trouble just to have it all disappear.”
“Anything can happen.” Kylian says after a while.
“You’re right, anything can happen. And what you do when you return, we don’t know if it’s fate or of your own will. But it happens, anyways. We can’t change it.”
“And what are you trying to say?”
“I don’t know either. But!” Neymar is quick to continue when he sees Kylian about to intervene. “What I mean is, we should just walk the path life has given us. And even if it’s not the one you wanted, then it’s likely going to be a better one."
Kylian doesn’t say anything.
Neymar’s voice softens. “Whatever happens, I have faith you’ll leave a mark on this world, both inside and outside the football world. You probably already have.”
He thinks I’m worrying about football.
“Twenty-four right?” Kylian nods. “After or before the World Cup?”
“After,” he replies, but then he interrupts. “It’s not about football, Ney.” The nickname comes out naturally. “I’m scared of losing you,” he says without faltering. If he’s going to return anyways, there’s no point in hiding his feelings. “I like you, I like this, I want us to happen in my timeline.”
Neymar blinks, looking genuinely surprised for the first time since Kylian time-travelled here. He continues. “And I don’t want to forget, because I won’t even know what I should fight for. What if I do things differently than this Kylian, your Kylian? And I’ll probably win all those trophies, but it won’t be the same without you by my side, cheering for me.”
Neymar’s face flushes. He clears his throat. “You always do have a way with words.” Then he laughs, shaking his head. “Now, I’m the one overthinking.”
“What do you mean?”
“What if the only reason you confessed to me is because you saw this future? Not because you liked me.” Neymar’s eyes widened. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that, should i?”
“Shit, so I’m the one who confessed first?” Kylian groans. That means he is the one who initiated the relationship. This is why he needs to remember.
“Okay, okay.” Neymar stands up from his seat. “We should just stop talking about this altogether before we lose our minds.”
“I’m already losing my mind,” he mutters as Neymar drags him away.
-
“It feels illegal to watch this,” he mumbles.
There’s a jump scare on the screen that had Neymar flinching and would have made Kylian flinched too if not for the fact that he’s utterly sleepy. He blinks slowly, trying to keep his eyes open.
“This movie probably hasn’t even begun production in my time.”
Neymar shushes him. “It’s getting to the good part.”
Kylian doesn’t listen, however, as his head starts to get heavier. His eyes starts to droop close and he leans his head on Neymar’s shoulder. He can barely discern what the movie is showing.
Amidst his foggy mind, a single thought stands out to him with great clarity.
“I think I’m going back.” The words are barely a whisper as his consciousness slowly closes off.
In some way, however, he’s still aware of the arm tightening around him and the soft kiss on his head.
“Take care, Kyky.” The words are fainter towards the end. “I love you.”
Kylian feels his world go dark.
-
He blinks sluggishly to Galtier’s face in front of him.
“What happened?” He groans as the face moves out of his sight, revealing the glaring sun high above him.
“A ball hit you and you were knocked out for a whole thirty seconds, dude.” He registers the voice coming from his left as Veratti.
“Can you stand up?” Galtier asks him, returning with a bottle of water. Kylian is grateful for the shade the old man gives as his eyes begin to adjust around his surroundings again.
“Yeah,” he says, sitting up firstly. Some of the people surrounding him begin to disperse once they see he’s all right. “Who kicked the ball?” He frowns.
There’s a familiar laugh to his left, and he turns to see Ethan grinning.
“It was an accident, I swear,” his brother instantly says once he sees Kylian’s dark expression. He starts to jog backwards. “Love you bro!” He shouts, running towards his friends.
Kylian sighs, messaging his temple- his head still pounds faintly. Ethan must have kicked it with his full power.
A chuckle. “Go easy on him.”
Kylian looks up to see Neymar stretching his arm out to him.
There’s a tickling feeling in his brain, and the headache is suddenly gone. He furrows his brows.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Neymar asks, noticing something off. He’s about to retract his hand but Kylian grabs it quickly and pulls himself up with the help of Neymar.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He shakes his head, frowning. His finger twitches when their hands pull apart. “I’ll have my revenge on Ethan.”
Neymar laughs, and the sound brings that same tickle to Kylian’s brain.
-
A few months later, Kylian finds himself inside a flower shop, his car parked outside. The cashier recognizes him immediately, that’s to be expected, even with his mask and sunglasses.
“What kind of flowers are you looking for?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “Can you show me? I’ll pick by the visuals.”
“Of course.” The woman nods, moving from behind the counter.
“It depends on what you’re looking for. Is it for a family, or perhaps a girlfriend?” She trails off. If he says the second one, she’ll know that Kylian Mbappé has a lover.
That’s fine by him. “A girlfriend,” he says then hesitates. “Although not exactly.”
“Ah, so soon to be girlfriend.” The woman claps her hands and Kylian doesn’t bother to correct her. “We have a variety of romantic flowers. Roses are, of course, the most popular and well known flowers that symbolizes love.”
She continues to explain a lengthy explanation as she leads him around the shop. Every flower she points to are beautiful, of course, but nothing feels right to him.
He doesn’t know why he’s overthinking this, he was only driving towards Neymar’s house, when he passes the store. In a whim, he decides to buy some as a surprise.
He takes another look around when an image of a vase suddenly flashes in his mind.
He blinks and turns to the woman. “Do you have some pink flowers? They’re light in color.” He starts explaining urgently, to his own confusion. “They look like roses, but not really roses? There’s a lot of petals.”
The woman thinks for a while. “We have a lot with that description. Ah, are you perhaps talking about-”
The carnations, you mean. They’re my favorite flowers.
“Carnations?” She asks.
Kylian nods, swallowing. He doesn’t know where Neymar’s voice comes from, doesn’t remember him saying it, but it tickles Kylian’s brain.
When she brings out the flowers, with the specific color he had asked, Kylian feels himself becoming lightheaded.
“I want a bouquet of them.”
-
He sits in his car, the flower’s parchment wrapping rumpled under his tight grip.
Come, take a seat, your cereal has gone soggy.
You always know you can do more. I like that about you.
Why do I feel like I’m cheating on you by kissing you?
Us?
You always do have a way with words. Now, I’m the one overthinking.
Take care, Kyky. I love you.
He chokes up a laugh as tears continue to fall from his eyes. He looks absurd, he knows, as he cries heavily with a ridiculous grin on his face.
When he appears on Neymar’s doorstep, he shoves the bouquet of carnations to Neymar’s chest.
“Here. Your favorite flowers. I love you too, by the way.”
-
Years later, Neymar who had just lost and received Kylian within the span of two days retells the story that night.
“Damn. This brings up so much memories,” Kylian says, slightly in awe. “It’s odd, like I remember it happening, but to hear it from your perspective, and in detail too, is like, I’m reliving it again.”
“You were so stressed about returning.” Neymar chuckles.
“I remember,” he murmurs. “I’m glad it all worked out.” He leans in taking Neymar by the lips. They move slowly against each other.
They part for air, but Kylian feels like it isn’t enough, and he kisses Neymar almost immediately again, taking the other’s gasp.
“Also,” Neymar finally managed to speak once more in between kisses. “Did you remember what you confessed to me with?”
Kylian pulls apart and hums, rubbing his jaw against Neymar’s stubble. “Yeah. Isn’t it the ones in those vases?”
A smile appears on Neymar’s face. “Yeah. Did you know they were my favorites because I told you in the future?”
Kylian ponders for a moment. “I think so. Why are you asking?”
Neymar laughs. “That’s funny.”
“What is?” A smile quirks up on Kylian’s face as he watches Neymar’s face scrunch with mirth.
“I didn’t have a favorite flower until you declared it during your confession. And so confidently too.” Neymar grins. “Gave me a whole new meaning to carnations."