Chapter Text
Neymar was sitting in the car on his way to a charity afterparty when he realized that he’d rather stay at home and play video games than put up a mask and pretend all is well.
The talk about him underperforming, not living up to the expectations while sitting on a big fat check, that his best years are over were something he’s gradually getting used to. He was only eighteen years old when he left Santos, young and wild, full of promises.
Neymar played well, he had his moments of fame but it takes a lot to satisfy the European fans that see him as an outlier. Even after three years, the fans and the team both don’t seem to be against selling him off.
It’s cold in Paris for Neymar and he thought he'd be used to the weather by now.
Marquinhos was walking in with Carol when he saw Neymar showed up heads down with headphones still on. He had been in Paris way longer than the younger boy
Neymar used to enjoy being the center of attention, spotlights, cameras and eyes following wherever he goes, but not today. In fact, it’s been awhile since he felt comfortable spending time with his teammates off the pitch. He looked up from his phone and saw Marquinhos looking at him with a worried expression.
“Man, what’s with the gloomy face?”
Neymar was relieved to see Marquinhos, and felt a tiny bit of warmth coming back to him.
“Just been missing you so much. You look good in the suit.” The two Brazilian men went in for a hug and winked at Carol to say hi. “Come on, let's have some drinks and loosen you up tonight.”
The event was hosted at a former church, the pink and blue lighting completely transformed the space. There were more people than he had thought, beautiful people in sparkling gowns and suits, they almost drew no attention except for a couple of head turns.
“This company is so rich, it’s ridiculous.”
“What company?”
“The biggest energy company in France, Ney. They are the one paying us to be here tonight. I think they are negotiating for a brand deal with us.”
“They do know how to throw a party.”
“Do you want anything? Some hors d'oeuvres? Oh I want those croquettes.”
“Some drinks would be great. My heels are killing me right now.”
“I thought the shoes were kinda crazy even for you. Do you want me to carry you babe?”
“This will do! Thanks!” Carol gestured to the waiter holding a tray of pink cocktails and handed both her husband and Neymar a cosmo.
Something that surprises people when they actually get to know Neymar is that he’s a lightweight and he doesn’t like the taste of alcohol in general. Pique always made fun of him for getting all flushed and even more touchy for the Brazilian boy, but that felt like so long ago when he could feel so free around his teammates.
Neymar hasn’t been drinking since the injury from the World Cup but the media still portray him as an irresponsible player, “showing up drunk” at the practice.
Marquinhos can see the hesitation on Neymar’s face, but the next match is more than a week away and as a team captain that worried about his best man’s spirit recently he nodded to Neymar.
“We deserve this, you know.”
Neymar was hesitant but the man in front of him made him feel safe somehow
“Ok, fuck it. Cheers to the night.” He blinked to the couple and downed the little drink in one swig.
The music is getting louder, lights dimmed, making him feel anonymous among the crowd, which further intoxicated Neymar’s slightly hazy mind.
“What’s going on boys? Having fun without us?” Sergio arrived out of nowhere, putting his arm around Neymar’s shoulder getting a bit too close.
A couple of other Spaniards joined in, more wine and laughs were shared.
“Have you seen that girl with big hair?” Sergio speaking into Neymar’s ear, still on his mission to prove that he can get Neymar out of the post-break up slump.
“I heard she’s the daughter of the CEO of this energy company.” He winks to the smaller man, “and I think you might want to talk to her.”
Neymar looked to the direction he’s gesturing and saw this girl with dark eyes in a glimmering silver dress, smiling when their gaze met in the air.
Neymar looked down like a shy teenage boy, feeling the heat climbing up his neck, which made Sergio laugh out loud.
“See? She’s definitely interested in you.”
“I mean who doesn’t want a piece of me.”
“And you are all blushing right now or is it because of the one drink you had.” Sergio teased.
“It’s the light, not me, ok?”
“Whatever you say big boy.”
Then they got sucked back into the group chatting and laughing at something that happened at practice earlier, more champagne was poured and Neymar didn’t refuse.
He tried to search for the dark skinned girl again in the same direction but no luck, which doesn’t seem to bother him.
When Sergio started to point at him and giggle into Marco’s ear, he knew that he really needed to have some food right now, so he wouldn’t be ridiculously drunk and make a fool of himself.
He was thinking about those delicate little pastries on silver platters. He told everyone he’s going to find the bathroom then head straight to the bar area with macaroons piling up like pyramids.
It was rather empty in this darker corner except two french women talking to the bartender guy, with broad shoulders and excellent form.
Neymar felt slightly more self-conscious, in front of these beautiful people talking in smooth French, living the life that would never be his no matter how long he stayed in Paris. He’s proud of his past but it was something that’s not fully appreciated or respected by a lot of people.
The man back facing him was wearing an expensive looking black suit, muscle moving under the fabric, as he poured more wine into two glasses for the girls. Neymar silently admires the dark skinned man, half understanding what they were talking about.
His gaze moved down to the man’s well-proportioned legs stretching long but muscular under the tailored pants..
“We should definitely get coffee sometimes.” One girl, not wanting the interaction to end, asked with a broad smile.
“We could yes, yes.” He handed them the two glasses in smooth motion, long fingers wrapping around the stem, and Neymar wanted them wrapping around himself, his neck and waist and …
And he thought that he hadn't been intimate with anyone since the breakup three months ago
“Hope you enjoy the night ladies.” The man’s voice is soft and deep yet indifferent, unaffected by the flirtations. Neymar sensed tiny chills in his bones, as the low vibration of the man’s voice rolled through his body.
He tried to reach out for the macaroon without noticing the man, at least sneaking one into his mouth before talking to him, but the operation was much more difficult than he had expected. The pink pastry seemed to stick together with glue, Neymar thought to himself, and they feel a bit too hard, as if they are
“These are fake.” The voice made Neymar jump. “Sorry. Did I scare you?”
Neymar felt a gentle hand on his waist, lasting for less than one second. Then he looked up and fell into a pair of dark sharp eyes, with a bit of playfulness that made the apology appear rather insincere. Neymar was not disappointed to see the man’s face, a bit more youthful than he thought but also intimidating for a guy pouring drinks.
“Yeah I know, of course. It’s very well made and realistic.” Neymar paused his hand and scratched the back of his neck, feeling the heat climbing up to his cheeks.
He’s babbling now and his golden green eyes started to sparkle under the changing lights as he started to laugh at his own excuse.
The taller man raised his eyebrows, obviously amused by the responses.
“Ok, you caught me. I was craving some sweets.”
“I apologize, but the food service is over now.” Neymar couldn’t help but pout a little, making his lower lip look even fuller. He was upset about the fake dessert pyramid, which was ridiculous but also how the man’s response has such a professional tone, unaffected by himself.
“So what other services can you offer here?”
It might be the drinks but also a bit competitive, an eagerness to prove that he could charm this man like how he could charm the world.
He lingers at the taller man’s eyes a bit longer than necessary then moves down to his lips for a blink of a second.
He was satisfied to see the man chuckle, looking down almost in a shy manner.
“Depending on what you want, I can get you a cup of hot chocolate if you are in the mood for dessert.”
“That sounds perfect right now.”
“Ok follow me.” The man tugged at Neymar’s elbow softly, leading him to the service, nodding at the staff once in a while.
“Where are you taking me?” Neymar caught a glimpse of the PSG group, who were dancing with strangers now, too busy to notice him.
“To the hot chocolate.”
They went into the staff only zone, where the storage is and the bartender took out a thermo bottle from one of the shelves.
He took off the lid, and poured the stipp steaming hot chocolate into the cup handing it to Neymar.
“Be careful it’s still hot.”
Their hands touched gently, the air was filled with warmth and the smell of chocolate.
It almost feels too intimate as the man watching him took a timid sip of the brown goodness.
“Fuck it’s hot!”
“I told you!”
The man laughed, and Neymar liked the sound of that. He went for a smaller sip as the warmth spread through his whole body.
“Hmm. Did you make it?”
The man watched him taking a bigger sip, eyes lingered around his lips then went up meeting the eyes.
“I did. You are not worried about drinking from a stranger’s thermo?”
“What can you do to me? Drug me and kidnap me?”
“I might do that, you never know.”
“And I might not mind that if it’s you.” Neymar leaned closer and watched the man’s pupil grow larger.
“Tell me your name.”
“Kylian. And you are?”
“Kylian, are you pretending not to know the person you are trying to drug?”
“I have a rough idea.”
For some reason, Neymar felt safe with the stranger in this cramped storage space.
The noise of the party is distant but ambient, and every one seems to be busy serving the guests leaving this place for the two of them.
Kylian was half leaning against the wall, legs open wide so he could be eye level with the shorter man.
“What kind of rough idea do you have about me?” Neymar is standing between his legs now, intruding on the other’s personal space like he had every right to do so.
“Neymar.” Kylian said his name is such a tone that made Neymar’s knees feel weak. His hazy mind doesn’t let him think twice before sliding his hands up the other man’s thigh, not bothered to check if anyone could see them.
“You are different from what I thought.” Neymar’s body went rigid when he heard that but the man continued without waiting for his response.
“You are much prettier in person.” Kylian’s hand was gentle when it circles around the smaller man’s waist, pulling him even closer until their hardness touched and Neymar let out a tiny whimper.
“God, you talk too much.” Neymar went in for that kiss that they’ve been waiting for and the gentleness he expected from the man was all gone as their lips touched.
He took in the aggressiveness of the stranger, biting and sucking on his lower lips before intruding his mouth and sucking on his tongue. The kiss was taking away his breath but then he felt the large hand holding the back of his head preventing him from escaping for air.
It’s all getting too much for him. The warmth of the body, the muscle under his hands, and the intimacy that he didn’t know he craved. Neymar pushed the man away with both hands, his lips are swollen, hair all messy.
He looked used and ready to devote himself to the man in front of him.
Kylian, on the other hand, only stares at him without pushing for more.
Neymar only saw his own reflection in those dark eyes and he panicked.