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“I think I’m gonna die,” are the first words that come out of Michael’s mouth once they are done.
His back is against the wall, and he watches as Yoichi starts gathering his clothes from the floor, still feeling too tired to do the same. Yoichi gives him a look that's half unimpressed and –in Michael’s opinion– half utterly seductive beneath his eyelashes as he pulls his shorts back up.
Yoichi snorts, "You weren't complaining a second ago, old man.”
“Tch,” Michael says, surprisingly too preoccupied with catching his breath to properly respond to Yoichi's taunt. He's only two years older than him, mind you!
Yoichi finishes tidying his clothes, and picks up Michael's from the floor before handing them to him.
"Hurry up so we can shower and go home.”
Michael doesn't say anything this time, he just nods slightly and feels Yoichi's figure disappear behind the door as he begins to pull his own underwear up his legs.
Michael sighs.
The thing is… Yoichi was going to take Michael’s soul out of his body through his dick, Michael thinks as he tucks his now flaccid cock back in his pants, wiping the stickiness from his hands on the outside of his underwear hastily, hoping to quickly stuff it into his bag after showering and washing it as soon as he gets to the apartment.
He counts to 70 before leaving through the same door that Yoichi left a few minutes ago, looking around to see if anyone had noticed that Michael Kaiser had just left a storage room with what looked too much like post-orgasm glow to anyone that had fucked even once in their lives.
When he confirms no one is around, he walks towards the showers, where the rest of his teammates are.
Don’t get him wrong, he’s not complaining. Of course not. He's experiencing levels of pleasure he's never felt before in his life, and with the person he loves most. Michael knows he’s a little obsessed with Yoichi. He’s always been. He’s always been the one asking for Yoichi’s time, asking for kisses, asking for cuddles, asking for sex. Alright, he’s a lot obsessed with Yoichi.
But Yoichi is different. Michael knows Yoichi loves him, wants him. But he’s disciplined, focused and responsible. Between the two of them, he has always been the one to remember the rules, to remember to follow the diets and gym routines, to remember not to touch or look at each other too much in public because it could get unwanted attention.
But lately, every time after a match ends, or every time he and Yoichi sit on the sofa in his apartment to rewatch and review such matches together, they end up in each other's arms, with their cocks out of their pants and their breaths mingling the moment the whistle signaling the end of the match blows.
They’re fucking every day, Michael thinks. Previously, it used to be every two or three days, if they had time between matches, and they kept it mostly non-penetrative because Yoichi used to say that he found it difficult to run across the field with his ass freshly fucked. Now, Yoichi is creating time, even when there isn't any.
So sue Michael for wanting to know why his boyfriend has been dragging him to bed, to empty corners, or to the last shower in the changing room after a game ends, completely disregarding all types of laws and public indecency concerns, even when every time Yoichi drags him by the wrist to wherever the hell he wants, Michael goes with a huge grin on his face and his cock already half hard.
At first, Michael thought it was Yoichi's way of releasing tension during the busy period of the season.
But that thought was quickly dismissed when he recalled Yoichi and Michael's previous season with Bayern, where Yoichi had actually been extremely tense and stressed, and had never done anything like guiding Michael’s cock toward his own after giving him a sloppy blowjob in a broom closet while their teammates walked right past on their way to the showers.
Then, maybe a week ago, he attributed it to the adrenaline rush of Noel Noa finally leaving them alone, having retired from football the previous summer due to a career-ending injury.
But now Michael knew that wasn't it, because he suddenly remembered that last year Noa had missed four games at the end of the season, including the Champions League quarter-final and semi-final, but Yoichi had never sat in Michael's lap with their pants nowhere to be found in the dressing room’s floor before the rest of the team arrived.
Michael needed to weigh his options. His case currently looked like this:
First, Yoichi is seeking sex. Any kind of sex. Blowjobs, handjobs, and even penetrative sex. Actually, a lot of penetrative sex, especially when they’re home.
Second, said sex is happening after their matches. Not necessarily matches played, it can also be matches watched. A hand down Michael’s pants in the stadium after a match played. A hand down Michael’s pants in their apartment after a match rewatched. It’s happening after one of their matches is as much as involved.
Third, their team is in the middle of the busiest part of the season, with daily training sessions and official matches every three days. He’s lucky Bayern is on a winning streak, otherwise Yoichi would be–
Wait.
Fourth, Bayern is on a winning streak. They've been on one for the last... what? 7 or 8 games? Which, now that Michael thinks about it, coincides with the amount of time Yoichi has been trying to get all the offspring out of Michael’s body before he turns 24.
Reflecting on this, perhaps this is the line of thinking Michael should take. If Michael had to make a list of the top three best sex of his life, among them would be—besides his first time with Yoichi—the time they won the Bundesliga for the first time together, and the time they won a match overwhelmingly, defeating the opposing team 8-1.
Sex with Yoichi was always good, don’t get him wrong. Yoichi knew exactly what to do to let Michael completely satiated while also making him feel like it never could be enough. But those two times had been absolutely insane.
Yoichi had gone round after round, insatiable, acting as if the refractory period simply wasn't a thing. He'd made them both come multiple times, orally, with their hands, hands-free. They'd been religious experiences for Michael, and maybe the reason the god of sex possessed Yoichi's body those nights had been because of their victories.
So yes, Michael is thinking that Yoichi might have a tiny bit of a… victory kink? Maybe a conquest kink, if that was a thing. Maybe he’d want Michael to start calling him Sir in bed. Or maybe Master?
Michael doesn’t think he’d be able to do it, at first. But if Yoichi really wants Michael to treat him as some kind of undefeated royalty while having sex, Michael can try. And try. And keep trying. Yoichi has done a lot more for him after all.
But first things first, Michael has to confirm his suspicions.
The next game is fast approaching, the peak of the season upon him. The team is in top form, the synergy better than ever, both defense and offense working equally hard. Michael is certain they will win.
And win they do.
It was a hard-fought victory, probably the hardest match of the season until now, barely winning 2-1, a beautifully crafted goal from Michael himself… and another one from Gesner, who was nothing more than lucky and scored with a pass from Yoichi.
Michael doesn't even have time to pull up his shirt as he leaves the field and clean the sweat out of his forehead when an equally wet and strong hand closes on the front of his jersey, dragging him down the corridor and straight toward the showers.
Their teammates pay them no mind, and Michael has three seconds to start forming the thought that maybe everyone has figured out what the Bayern Munich boyfriends are up to after every game when they finally reach the showers, Yoichi not wasting a moment before locking lips with him in a kiss that is both disgusting and simply delicious.
Hands find their place beneath Michael's shirt, short nails that aren’t stingy in showing strength tracing their rightful place across Michael's abs, lower and lower as Michael himself is swiftly pushed onto one of the shower benches.
Michael uses one hand to keep them both balanced, holding the bench, while the other traces Yoichi's muscular lower back beneath his own sweaty shirt.
If you told Michael 5 years ago that one day he would be used to the sweat of another person in direct contact with every part of his body, he would not only look at you as if there were 13 heads hanging from your neck, but he would also knock you to the ground with a kick straight to the chest. Before turning around and walking away without caring if you were okay.
Yoichi drops down, his 70 kilos of pure muscle landing on Michael's legs, the thin wooden bench, clearly not built to support two professional players at the same time, wobbling slightly.
"That wish you had a few months ago," Yoichi whispers breathless against Michael's lips, leaving kisses on them every few words.
Michael chases after his boyfriend's lips every time they part, not caring at this point in their relationship how needy he seems. Yes, Yoichi was leaving him dry, but Michael is exactly where he wants to be.
"Mmh?”
“You know…” Yoichi says, sitting firmly on top of Michael’s already growing clothed erection. “When you said you missed dry humping.”
Michael gasps for air. Yes, yes, yes. He needs no more words or convincing. He's sold. Given away. He's willing to be the one who has to pay, even.
He nods quickly and finally pulls his hand off the bench, not caring at that moment if the damn board shatters into a thousand pieces and they both end up on the floor continuing their adventures.
It would be even better, Michael decides.
He places both hands under Yoichi's butt and, holding him close to his body, lowers them both to the floor, Michael ignoring the coldness of the tiles on his ass in lieu of focusing on his boyfriend's warm body on top of his.
Yoichi knows what to do, he always knows what to do. Michael's legs are quickly caught by Yoichi's thighs, placing his knees on the floor on either side of Michael's hips to begin a slow, twisting rhythm.
Michael raises his hips to a different rhythm than Yoichi, making faster, more frantic movements. Michael feels they won't last long, his lips never parting from Yoichi's, their hands roaming each other's bodies as if it were the first time, not as if they had years and years of practice, their cocks meeting even with a bunch of layers between them.
The sound of voices and laughter finally approaching down the hall makes Yoichi open his eyes and look at Michael in a panic.
Michael increases the pace, his hands holding Yoichi closer and eliminating every inch of distance between them.
Yoichi's hands move to where their clothes cocks meet, pressing hard and generating a pressure that brings them both to climax.
Before Michael can think of a solution to their impending problem, Yoichi gives Michael a quick kiss on the lips and gets up from the floor, turning on the nearest shower and quickly stripping off his clothes before stepping under the running water.
Yoichi curses, "It's so cold.”
Michael's brain finally clicks, and he gets up from the floor, grabs Yoichi's now sticky underwear from where he hastily took it off, and hides it in his bag.
"You didn't wait for the temperature to regulate," Michael manages, barely being able to pull his phone out of his bag and sit back down on the bench in front of the showers to pretend he was always there (looking at his phone, far away from Yoichi, fully clothed) when the shower doors open and their teammates start to enter.
Michael glances at them sideways for a bit before looking at Yoichi, who is now shampooing his hair with an innocent look on his angelic face.
Michael is now pretty sure a god of sex is possessing his boyfriend.
And said sex god has a victory kink.
But for the giggles, and for his own entertainment and pleasure… he needs more proof.
That proof arrived no more than three days later, but not in the format Michael expected.
Bayern wins, of course they do, but it is still a tough match. The opposing team isn't that great, in Michael’s opinion, but they recently added a decently talented and fresh face to the squad as their goalkeeper, catching every shot Michael tried to score. The game ends without a single goal from Michael, just an accidental assist to Ness.
At the final whistle, the team's spirits are high, their winning streak still intact. But both teams had already been dismissed from the field, and Michael still isn’t feeling a familiar hand around his wrist, dragging him away to some secluded, private spot.
Michael walks down the corridor toward the waiting room, frowning as he sees Yoichi a few feet ahead, talking animatedly with Gesner. Michael can see that Yoichi isn’t angry; in fact, he’s clearly happy and even proud, so why the hell are they not having sex?
Michael decides to ignore it. It’s fine.
Yoichi isn't upset, and Michael isn't completely furious with his assist.
Maybe Yoichi is tired? Michael did notice him walking a little strangely at the end of the match.
Or maybe he just couldn't find a window of time for them to slip away? Yes, that must be it. Definitely.
Michael takes a shower, gives his captain's lecture back in the waiting room, and drives home listening to Yoichi talk about his analysis of the match, knowing that he'd hear more once they rewatch the game on TV. Maybe that's when Yoichi would want to have victory sex?
The victory sex never comes.
They rewatch the game, Yoichi casually offering his analysis and arguing with Michael. The game ends, and there's no sign that Yoichi wants to fuck.
Michael decides Yoichi isn't angry, either. Because he keeps kissing Michael when he thinks Michael said something particularly funny, he cooks Michael baked potatoes for dinner after Michael mentions he’s craving them, and even lets Michael be the little spoon when they go to bed.
Michael could ask Yoichi to have sex, and he knows Yoichi would say yes. But he doesn’t want that. At least not today.
It’s the principle of it.
Just where in hell did Michael go wrong?
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
They have sex again a few days later.
Well, not sex sex. More like making love sex?
Okay, yes sex sex. But not victory sex, Michael thinks. He knows it’s not victory sex, because Bayern hasn’t had a match in almost a week due to mid-season break, in which Michael and Yoichi keep practicing and putting in effort like they’d do in the middle of a very busy week.
It happens on Saturday after dinner, when Michael cooks beef soup because the day in Munich is particularly cold.
They go to bed to watch television a little after 9 p.m., both with the covers over their legs, their backs propped against the fluffy goose-down pillows Yoichi bought to keep them sitting up in bed.
Michael watches a Martin Scorsese film while Yoichi plays a match-3 game on his iPad. Michael sometimes thinks they're too young to be in bed on a Saturday at 9 p.m., but at the same time, he knows there's nowhere else he'd rather be.
"I'm cold," says Yoichi, using his Apple Pencil to connect 3, his nose wrinkling as he snuggles deeper under the blankets.
Michael thinks Yoichi is the cutest person in the world; it's not fair that a 22-year-old man got all the cuteness. What about the share for babies and puppies?
Michael moves closer to Yoichi, "Come here."
Yoichi closes the distance between them, his side bumping against Michael's, and lifts one leg over Michael's, so his iPad is almost resting on Michael's stomach.
"You always run so hot, Mihya. You're my personal heater.”
Michael scoffs jokingly, "That's because I'm hot.”
“‘Course you are, baby.”
Michael turns to look at his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, "Is that a sarcastic tone I hear?”
“‘Course not, baby.”
"You little..." Michael releases his hand from the remote and uses it to peck Yoichi's side, knowing it tickles him.
Yoichi starts to squirm, and Michael uses the opportunity to move the iPad to the foot of the bed, pecking more parts of his boyfriend's firm body with his fingers.
When Michael senses that Yoichi is preparing to retaliate, he wraps his arms around Yoichi, holding and controlling him in his arms, spooning.
Michael places a kiss, hoping it will have calming qualities, on the nape of Yoichi's neck, and the struggle finally ends. Yoichi relaxes in Michael's arms, even snuggling closer to Michael's body, his back pressed firmly against Michael's.
They stay like that for a few moments, the film playing in the background, and Michael turns his head to finish watching it.
Michael feels a subtle movement near his groin, but decides to ignore it until it happens again. Yoichi moves his hips slowly, almost slackly, as if he's not just pursuing pleasure, but also closeness and intimacy.
Michael has felt this way many times with Yoichi.
Michael moves his hand to Yoichi's lower abdomen and uses his strength to pull him even closer, beginning to sluggishly rotate his hips in the same rhythm as Yoichi, his now growing erection occasionally getting caught between Yoichi's buttocks.
Michael continues his barrage of kisses along Yoichi's neck, and Yoichi turns his head to meet their lips in a slow, wet kiss, his hips never missing a beat. Yoichi raises an arm and reaches back, grasping Michael's head to guide his mouth as he desires, gently tugging at his hair.
During one particular movement, a soft, angelic sound escapes Yoichi's lips, and Michael asks, his mouth close to theirs, "You want to?" When Yoichi nods, Michael uses his hand to pull down his pants and pump his cock a few times. "Pass me the lube, mein schatz.” Yoichi groans in displeasure, and Michael responds by gently patting his butt, "C'mon Yoichi.”
Yoichi untangles his hand from Michael's hair and reaches over to the side of the nightstand to grab the lube, the blankets slipping down a bit, before tossing it onto the covers near Michael and seeking the warmth of Michael's warm body once more.
"It's so cold.”
Michael adds a generous amount of lube to his hand and begins to rub it, while he again presses his lips to Yoichi's, "I know, love. Do you want to turn around?”
Yoichi shakes his head, "No, I need your body to warm my back." Michael laughs softly and begins to guide his hand, covered in warm lube, under the covers. "I can still see you and kiss you like this."
Yoichi proves it, kissing Michael again while a finger starts penetrating him slowly.
It doesn't take long until Michael is guiding his own sticky cock towards Yoichi’s hole, Yoichi's hand reaching for his under the blankets to intertwine them, their lips chasing each other the whole time.
It's slow and lazy, and they both act like they have all the time in the world, which they do. Michael could be like that all night, feeling close to the love of his life physically and emotionally, not worrying about teammates approaching in the hallways or janitors entering broom closets.
Don't get him wrong, Michael loves doing everything with Yoichi, he loves every kind of sex with Yoichi. And secret hurried semi-public sex is super hot and super intimate and it does make Michael feel like he is the only person that can understand Yoichi.
But sex in the comfort of their shared home, in between the covers of their bed that they bought together when they first moved in, with no other souls nearby besides their own in presence, without rushing, without having to control their voices, without having to sacrifice random conversations while they wait to get off their high together to go bathe. That kind of sex is crafted specifically for him and Yoichi, is unique, personal and it makes Michael feel like he and Yoichi are two hearts beating as one.
Yeah, if Yoichi doesn’t want to have any more quick victory sex because he wants to have slow bed sex, that’s completely fine by Michael.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
The quick public sex comes back after Bayern's first game back from the mid-season break.
But Michael doesn’t know how to categorize it, because it isn’t due to victory. Because Bayern lost.
It's a match that, in theory, should be easy to win. Their rival is objectively one of the weakest teams in the Bundesliga, but for some reason, they managed to score goal after goal. Michael sulkily gives an interview as team captain to ESPN, offering excuses that sound equally humiliating and absurd, but which Michael knows the marketing team will love.
Yes, he's happy about his two goals. Yes, he's happy about his teammates' two goals. No, his goalkeeper wasn't at his best, which is why he allowed five whole goals to enter his net. Why? Because of adjustments after the mid-season break. They'll come back stronger and more focused for the next match. Yes, he's confident that Bayern will win the Bundesliga again this year. Yes, it's only their second loss of the entire season, after all.
All the while, Yoichi watches him from behind the cameras, with a small smile that, in Michael's opinion, looks suspiciously proud.
But why?
Michael doesn't have time to think about it, because the moment the reporter gets the microphone back, he's being called over by Yoichi's hand gesture.
The interview drags on longer than necessary; by the time she reaches Yoichi, a good number of his teammates have already left the field. Michael and Yoichi walk side by side toward the tunnel, and as soon as the seats, fans, and cameras are far enough away, Michael turns to place a light peck on Yoichi's lips.
"We'll get it next game."
If someone had told the old Michael that one day he'd be checking if his longtime boyfriend was upset after their team lost, he would have fainted from the sheer absurdity of the whole sentence.
Yoichi smiles sweetly, lifting a clothed sleeve to wipe the sweat from Michael's forehead.
"I know, Mihya." Yoichi stops completely, leaning in slightly to place a heated kiss on Michael's lips—a wet, salty kiss, full of tongue—completely oblivious to the fact that some of their teammates are still walking nearby. Michael and Yoichi no longer hide their relationship from their teammates, but they also don’t really show such… explicit displays of affection in front of others. Michael feels Yoichi's hands tighten around his shoulders, adding a level of force that Michael always finds utterly obscene. Michael's own hands rest on Yoichi's biceps. Yoichi parts his lips and looks at Michael with those large, cloudy eyes that Michael could never deny anything to. "Let's get home quickly, okay?”
Michael nods quickly, giving Yoichi one last peck before resuming his walk to the showers. The next hour and a half is probably one of the most tortuous of Michael's life.
Today, the coach wants to have a coach-captain talk about the loss with Michael before he goes to shower, and Michael is lucky if he's mentally present for the first five minutes, knowing that Yoichi is already in the showers and getting ready to go home with Michael.
Today, everyone decides to shower at the same time, so Michael is one of the last to enter the shower room and has to wait for the next 15 minutes for one to become available, while Yoichi, already ready and dressed next to him, gives him meaningful looks every now and then while playing on his phone, which makes the hairs on the back of Michael's neck stand up the whole time.
Today, Michael and Yoichi didn't arrive by car, so they have to take the bus from the stadium to the clubhouse with the others, and Michael has always thought the driver's favorite speed is 30 km/h on the highway. Michael tries to concentrate on his YouTube video playing while Yoichi, sitting next to him, traces abstract figures on what Michael considers a very risky area on his upper leg.
Today, Michael's knee starts acting up when they finally reach the clubhouse and can take their own car home. Yoichi snatches the keys from his hand and drives at a speed only seen in Fast and Furious while Michael clings to his seat for dear life. It's both a terrifying and arousing experience.
When they finally arrive home, Michael feels like his cock is going to explode. Yoichi doesn't wait any longer and shoves him straight onto the sofa before retrieving a bottle of lube they keep hidden in one of the living room cabinets.
Michael helps, pulling down his underwear and ignoring the cold air of the apartment hitting his balls. Yoichi undresses too, and fills his hand with lube before rubbing it with his other hand and wrapping both hands around Michael's cock, using too much force and making Michael groan.
“You were so hot today,” Yoichi says, expertly moving his hands up and down the length of Michael's cock, covering it from the base to the leaking red tip.
Michael moves his hands to Yoichi's hips and forces him onto his lap, Yoichi's still unattended cock bumping against Michael's.
Michael guides Yoichi's cock into his boyfriend's hands, causing both cocks to slide together. Michael wraps his own hands around Yoichi's, adding more pressure to the movement.
Yoichi starts moving his hips, seeking more friction, and Michael pulls a hand from the mess between them to add lube to his fingers before guiding them to Yoichi's entrance. He looks for confirmation, "Yeah?"
Yoichi nods, "Yeah."
Michael doesn't wait any longer and inserts a finger, Yoichi's movements slowing slightly.
"Keep going, Yoichi," Michael says, moving his fingers inside the warm hole. "Should I give it to you? We lost today. You only scored one goal.”
Yoichi whines, his movements increasing. Michael adds another finger.
"A goal is a good thing, and you scored two goals today. You deserve it, and so do I.”
Michael opens his fingers like scissors, "Oh yeah? You liked those goals?"
Yoichi nods frantically, "A lot. They make me realize how capable you are."
Michael pauses. Oh? He pulls his fingers out and uses his hand to free his cock from Yoichi's grip. He repositions Yoichi and guides his cock toward Yoichi's now sticky hole.
"And you like that I'm capable?"
C'mon Yoichi, open the door of your soul for me, finish my investigation for me, Michael thinks.
Yoichi nods again and looks toward the spot where Yoichi's hole is about to connect with Michael's cock before taking the matter in his own hands, lowering himself, a pleased sound escaping his lips. "I love it. It’s so hot.”
Michael doesn't know if it's finally completing the puzzle that is his boyfriend's peculiar kink, or the fact that his boyfriend loves it when Michael scores, or that he considers Michael… capable? or maybe competent? attractive, or the simple fact of having the most beautiful man who has ever existed on his lap, but Michael reaches his climax embarrassingly fast.
Michael continues to sway his hips, chasing his high and trying to give pleasure to the love of his life, and Yoichi soon follows.
Yoichi collapses into Michael's arms, his head resting on Michael's shoulder, as Michael tries to catch his breath and consider all the loose ends that come together when he realizes Yoichi never had a thing for victory, or perhaps he does, like anyone else, but he also has a thing even bigger for Michael being the one leading them to victory. For Michael being the one scoring.
As Michael realizes they haven't even turned on the TV or the heating yet, he reaches for the remote without moving Yoichi from his lap or rearranging their clothes and turns on the TV, searching YouTube for a replay of the match, knowing perfectly well what's about to happen.
If things are really as Michael thinks, they'll be having super hot quick victory se– no, competence sex in less than 20 minutes, so what's the point of getting dressed again if they're just going to take everything off again?
Michael has the biggest smile on his face as he watches Yoichi settling into his laptop to watch the TV.
Michael knows Yoichi has a competence kink.
And now he also knows that it’s all his fault.