Chapter Text
All is fair in love and war, Richarlison firmly believes in that and this is why one could find him crouching behind the white fences of his house and with a pair of binoculars in hand on that Saturday afternoon.
If he had a single self-preserving cell on his body, Richie would be riding his bike to Martinelli’s place already, but something inside him has the urge to witness the moment Harry Fucking Kane will show up with his red Mercedes to whisk Sonny away to the riches land.
The teen is so caught up in his task that he only registers the happy whistling when it is practically above him, and when he turns the binoculars to see who it is, he quickly lowers the object with a grimace because ew, Richie never wants to see Romero’s face from this close ever again!
His number one enemy - although this is quite debatable now, - shoots him a look that is part disgust and part confusion. Still, before he can open his mouth to question his actions, or his everything really, Richarlison beats him to it.
“You’re in the wrong neighborhood.”
The taunt is enough to replace the frown on Romero’s face with a smug smile. “Not really. I came here to take Sonny out,” he takes a hand to his chest and fakes concern. “You don’t mind, do you?.”
Richarlison feels his lips parting in a wide grin even when the other resumes his walk without bothering to stay and listen to his answer. “Oh, not at all! Good luck, darling.” He shouts at the retreating back.
Romero shoots him a look that is pure horror from over his shoulder like he cannot process the lack of sarcasm in his voice, but in the end, decides to hell with it and turns his attention back to Sonny’s house, all without stopping his walk for even a second.
Richie is already cackling up before the other teen gets there, thinking that maybe it will finally teach him to give a heads-up instead of showing up announced at Sonny’s place all the time.
The temptation to sneak a glance is so big that Richarlison has to grip the grass hard to keep himself still because as much as he wants to see the idiot look on Romero’s face when Sonny turns him down, he’s also too afraid said idiot will snitch on him.
A good five minutes go by before he catches the top of Romero’s head on his way back and this time Richarlison makes sure to stick his head above the fence with a shit-eating grin.
“Oh no, don’t tell me you came all the way here for nothing!”
“Shut up!” It is the other teen’s only reply as he fumes away.
Richie falls back on the grass and stays there howling at the sky for what feels like forever. Once he finally calms down, he takes a look at the time, curses, and then hurries to get his bike, certain that Nelli will skin him alive if he’s late to surprise Gabby.
The enraged face of Romero keeps popping up in his mind and the recent memory brings him so much joy that he only realizes he completely forgot about Harry picking up Sonny when he’s already halfway to his destiny.
In the end it is Harry Fucking Kane that has the last laugh.
Martinelli hurries to the door as soon as the doorbell goes off. Just as he has done for the last five times or so, he shoots a look at his back to make sure everybody is well hidden and then twists the doorknob with the brightest smile on his face.
He gives sweet, innocent, unsuspicious Gabby Jesus a warm birthday hug and then beckons him inside.
“Why is it so dark in here?” Asks the newcomer, shooting a look at the closed curtains.
“You think so? Go ahead, switch the lights on.”
Gabby presses his lips together to keep himself from chuckling. He’s known Nelli long enough to be sure that some kind of surprise awaits him once the lights come on, probably a shining panel he’s got the inspiration from Pinterest or something, but he goes anyway.
He’s expecting the brightness that follows once he hits the switch but nothing prepares him for the twenty guys or so jumping from everywhere in the room and screaming “SURPRISE!” at him.
Gabby shrikes like a banshee and tries to become one with the wall when his back hits the hard surface. One hand goes rest over his chest that raises and falls in a pattern fast enough to make any doctor worry while the other one is firmly planted on the wall to keep him from hitting the floor.
“Oh my gosh! Please tell me someone is getting this on camera.”
“I bet my house and everything inside it that he peed himself.”
“I hope his face doesn’t stay frozen like this forever.”
Gabriel can hear these and other comments being thrown around among laughter but is only able to join in when his teammates approach him to exchange congratulatory hugs, back pets and even some head slaps, and although it almost cost him his life, he thinks it's kinda nice that everyone is there for him.
They spend the next hour eating snacks and playing FIFA in relative peace until Antony loses a match and refuses to let someone else take the controller for the fourth time. Casemiro finally deems it’s not funny to watch him try to bite everybody’s fingers off anymore and bullies him to pass the fucking controller along.
Antony sinks himself deeper into the sofa with an angry face and not even thirty seconds go before he’s out for blood again. “This party is lame! Let’s play dare or dare.”
Martinelli, who for some reason has an apron on and is holding a tray of salgadinhos,
shakes his head. “There’s no time on the schedule to play truth or dare,” his denial is met with some passionate protests so he relents. “Ok, I guess we can fit it in now. But we will be singing Happy Birthday and cutting the cake in thirty minutes.”
“Whoever wants to play get on the circle!” Ney shouts, using both hands to cup his mouth.
“I say it’s mandatory to get on the circle,” Says Casemiro and everyone can see Marquinhos rolling his eyes hard behind the captain.
“Let’s set some rules first.”
“Boo!” It’s the overall reply to Nelli’s suggestion.
Still, the sophomore’s perseverance is enough to make them all agree to some basic rules. Since they’re too lazy to get up and fetch a bottle they decide it’s easier just to choose whoever they want to dare, but everyone needs to be dared at least one time before one can be chosen again.
“I’ll go first!” Neymar shouts, basically wiggling in excitement over his space on the floor. “I dare Marquinhos to call Sergio because I know they’ve been texting nonstop since our pool party.”
The room explodes in a chorus of suggestive humming while poor Marquinhos stares at Ney with burning cheeks and mouth hanging open. Unfortunately for him, one of the rules they set is that it is forbidden to chicken out so he slowly grabs his cell phone.
“What should I tell him?” Marc asks nervously.
“Say whatever, just put it on speaker so we can all listen,” answers Neymar, and then, just like everyone else in the circle, he leans in to better listen as the phone rings.
To Marquinhos ultimate dismay Sergio picks up on the third ring.
“Hi, Sergio,” He hurries to greet while his friends, the motherfuckers, snicker in the background.
“Hey! Are you done at the party?”
“Oh my gosh, he knows his schedule!” Magalhães squeals happily from the other side of the circle and Raphinha is kind enough to cover his big mouth with a hand.
“Not yet. Why?” Marc asks with a frown.
“My mother kidnapped yours so they can have a shopping trip, and asked me to pick you up since your mom won’t be able to.”
This time Marquinhos has to glare at his teammates so they keep their weird ass noises low enough not to reach the phone’s microphone.
“You don’t really need to. I can get a ride.” Probably.
“It’s fine. We’ll get something to eat on the way back, my treat.”
Marc makes sure to keep his eyes on the floor so he won’t see his teammates’ shit-eating grins. “Well, ok then.”
“For fucks sake, Marc. Try to sound excited!” Neymar chimes and since he is sitting right by his side, he takes the opportunity to push his face away.
“Cool! What did you call me for?”
Marquinho’s mouth hangs open once again as he tries to think of something fast, “You know what? I completely forgot.” It is what he ends up saying and Sergio’s laughter echoes in the room. “I’ll give you a call if I remember.”
“Alright. See you later.”
“Bye.”
As soon as he turns the call off, Marc has to endure at least five straight minutes of teasing from his teammates. His cheeks finally stop burning and he thinks the worst of it is gone when Militão opens his mouth.
“They’ll be fucking before the end of the year.”
“Hey!” Casemiro barks louder than his friends are howling around. “Keep it PG, there are kids present.” He points at where most of the freshmen are sitting next to each other.
When they finally calm down, Martinelli picks up from where they stopped. “Ok, it’s the turn of whoever is sitting by Neymar’s right, so… Marquinhos, go ahead.”
The vice-captain turns to Neymar who has a peaceful look on his face, as if he doesn’t believe there will be any retaliation for what he has just caused.
“I dare Neymar to read out loud the last ten texts he has exchanged with Leo,” Marc says slowly.
“Damn, I recognize revenge when I see it!” Raphinha pipes in.
Neymar simply rolls his eyes and fetches his smartphone. “They're just texts. What do you think I talk about with Leo?”
“Well,” Militão starts with a grin, but it dies as soon as Miro glares at him. “Never mind.”
Neymar rolls his eyes again. “Can I start?”
“Yeah, just remember that the texts you sent in a row only count as one.” Eddie interjects and when everyone looks at him, he goes on. “What? You’ve seen the way he texts, it’s like one word for each message.”
“True,” Marquinhos agrees and turns to Ney. “Do as he said.”
With a sigh, Neymar uses a thumb to roll his phone screen up. “Leo: you say that as if I were able to fall asleep in the first place. Me: don’t worry, you’re going to rock this! Remember: stay confident and do what you always do. Leo: I wish you could be there, I would be less nervous. Me: man, I really wanted to. I’m this close to stealing a car and going on my own,” Someone snorts at this, but he keeps going. “Leo: lol, see? You’d make me laugh all the way there and the tryouts would look less threatening. Me: you’re going to do amazing. You’ll become a famous footballer and will forget all about your poor friends and me.”
Ney stops reading, hoping his friends will be satisfied, but he has no such luck.
“It hasn’t been ten yet,” Eddie says.
“How do you know?” Richarlison asks confused.
“I’m counting, duh.”
“C’mon, Neymar. No cheating,” Casemiro orders.
This time Ney takes a deep breath before hesitantly moving on. “Leo: I could never forget you. Sadly I love you too much,” he expects some kind of joke or comment here, but the room is suddenly eerie quiet. “Me: I love you too and that’s how I know you’re going to ace it!. Leo: I need to go. I get dizzy if I text in the car. Do I get a last good luck?. Me: The other guys there will need luck when you turn up, babe. Call me when you’re back.”
When he finally looks up from his phone, every single guy in the room is staring at him blankly. “What?”
“Man, with all due respect?” Endrick is the first to speak. “Just kiss the guy already.”
“Yeah! Listen to him, Neymar!” Douglas agrees. “Endrick may be younger but he has a girlfriend.”
Before Ney can answer, Paquetá sighs heavily. “The fact that Endrick, who is two years younger than me, has a girlfriend and I don’t really make me question what is wrong with every girl I know.”
“What?” Militão asks, already cracking up. “You should be asking what is wrong with yourself, dude!”
The chaos that follows is enough to make everyone forget the whole Leo and Ney situation, and when they do calm down it’s André’s turn.
“Cool!” Celebrates Endrick. “André wants to dare Bruno.”
“Do I?” André asks and when Endrick nods so does he. “Ok, I dare Bruno to…” He looks around, catches Andreas furtively pointing at Joe by his side, and lights up. “I dare Bruno to give Joe… A foot rub!”
“A foot rub?” Endrick and Andreas cry out at the same time, but only the first presses on, “Really? Don’t you think it has to be something else?” He asks while tapping his lips.
“Why would it have to be… Is there something on my lips?” André asks confused.
The rest of the guys decide to ignore the weird interaction to turn to Bruno, who has a grossed-out look on his face.
“I hope you have washed your feet today.”
“What? I thought you were only supposed to do that once a month,” Joe teases, already kicking his shoes away.
“Joe!” Bruno laments but much to his friends’ amusement, places Joe’s feet on his lap and starts the massage.
While everyone is busy, João leans into André’s space behind Endrick’s back to whisper. “I thought we were supposed to make them do some romantic shit.”
André blinks. “I find foot rubs very romantic.”
João blinks back at him and goes back to sitting properly.
The game goes on with Endrick daring Yan to mix ten different liquids in a cup and drink all of it, making the guy spend the next four rounds looking kind of green. Soon it’s Douglas’ turn and he asks Militão, who is sitting on his other side, to lick the front door doorknob.
Militão completes his dare under a shower of varying disgusted noises and when he goes back to his place, retaliates by daring Douglas to fit all the toes of one foot inside his mouth and this time Yan, who was already nauseous, has to run to the bathroom to throw up, while half of the guys have to cover their eyes not to end up in the same way.
When Yan comes back it’s Richarlison’s turn. Although the party did wonders to lift the teen’s spirit, part of him is still upset with the knowledge that right now Sonny is still doing whatever it is that he does with Harry, so he decides that listening to someone else’s love story - or lack of - might just soothe his turmoil.
“I dare the birthday boy to tell us who he has a crush on.”
The way he drops the challenge like a bomb causes all the boys to let out suggestive noises, and Gabby Jesus, who had a small smile open until here, contorts his nose in an uncomfortable frown.
“I don’t have a crush on anyone.” He says in a defensive tone.
“C’mom! You have to tell the truth,” Presses Neymar.
“Maybe he doesn’t like anyone,” Eddie interjects on the poor boy’s aid.
“Maybe no one likes you,” Antony replies without missing a beat.
Ederson shoots Antony a cold glare. “You know what? I’d like to dare Antony to be nice for the rest of the day, but I know the effort it would take could probably kill him.”
The room becomes a chaos of laughter as soon as the goalie is done talking.
“I can be nice if I want!” Antony shouts outraged, which only serves to make the guys laugh harder and the teen crosses his arms with a pout.
“Alright, it’s still Gabby’s turn.” Nelli says once they’re quiet enough, and nudges his friend gently with a foot. “C’mom, don’t be shy.”
Gabby takes in a deep, grounding breath when he feels everybody looking at him expectantly. If he keeps saying he doesn't like anyone, which is the truth, they will think he is a coward, so the best course of action is to say some random name and take it like a champ.
“I like… Kai Havertz,” He finally says hesitantly.
Silence follows and then, “Who the fuck is that?” Asks Antony.
Gabby opens his mouth to answer but Martinelli is faster.
“He works with us at the grocery shop,” He says. “Kai Havertz… Didn't see that coming.”
“What is he like?” Neymar asks curiously.
“He has that Sasuke Uchiha kinda vibe,” Magalhães pipes up.
“Yeah! I’m into that,” Gabby says so he doesn’t just stay there. “I’m really into that.”
“Okay... But I mean like, is he hot? Let me check his Insta,” Neymar says while grabbing his cell phone.
Well… Shit. Gabby thought that giving them a name would be enough for them to drop the subject but he should know better when it comes to his friends. At least no one is making me call him, he thinks bitterly.
Neymar lets a long whistle out. “He looks good!”
Antony crawls closer to the other teen when he turns the device for them to take a look. “Looks like a twink to me,” he scoffs, and then: “No offense, Neymar.”
Ney’s eyes darken with rage and he lowers the cell phone. “The fuck you mean?”
It’s inevitable that they end up on each other’s faces and the other guys have to get up to pull them apart.
Gabby takes the moment of discretion to run away to the kitchen, where he grips the edge of the table wondering if he will die if he smacks his head against the hard surface with enough force.
He's this close to testing his theory when he feels someone entering the kitchen and when he turns to look, he’s met with Eddie.
The goalie stops on his way to the fridge. “Why do you look like you're about to cry?”
“I always look like that,” he deflects and after considering for a second, ends up admitting. “I don't really like Kai.”
“Ha! I knew it,” Eddie brags victoriously. “Just go out there and tell them.”
Gabby whines pitifully. “They wouldn't believe me before, and they won't believe me now that I gave them a name.”
Eddie looks around as if thinking it through and then shrugs. “At least you were smart enough to choose a guy from your workplace. They will forget it in no time.”
“I hope so,” Sighs Gabby.
They spend some time in silence in which the goalie opens the refrigerator door to grab some soda when Martinelli bursts into the room with a panicked face.
“Things are wild out there. Gabby, grab the plastic plates and Eddie you get the forks,” he shoves Ederson out of the way and bends to grab something big from inside the fridge. “Hopefully the cake will calm them down.”
Gabby and Eddie share a look and then get down to work.
The moment they come out of the kitchen and the guys spot the cake, the fight breaks out in an animated chorus of ‘Happy birthday to you.’
Cake slices are handed out after that and they split into smaller groups around the room to stuff their faces.
Casemiro is sitting on the sofa between Marquinhos and Neymar, happily licking the chocolate from his plastic fork when he feels his smartphone vibrating in his pocket.
He considers not picking up for a fraction of time but quickly remembers how mad his mom will be if he doesn't pick up and she is the one calling so he hurries to grab it.
“It's Celo,” Miro answers to Ney’s curious gaze. “Bet he wants to wish Gabby a happy birthday.”
He picks up the call and can only exchange a couple of words with the guy before Ney whisks his phone away to give everyone in the room a chance to talk to Marcelo. The only reason why Casemiro doesn't scream Ney’s ear off is because it gives him about thirty minutes he spends going to and back from the kitchen table with a bigger slice of cake each time.
His belly is blissfully full when Neymar collapses next to him on the sofa and hands him back the phone. Marcelo’s expression months into one of sorrow as soon as their eyes meet through the screen and Miro answers with an eyebrow raise.
“You know I love you, right? And that I’m always on your side.”
These are the first words out of Marcelo's mouth and they make Miro blink confusedly at the screen. “What's going on?”
“Please forgive me, but he left me no choice…” He cries out.
The screen becomes a blur and when it focuses again it’s Thiago’s distressed face standing on the other side. Casemiro has a couple of seconds to feel his heartbeat increase like crazy before he cries out and hurries to hit the button to turn off the call.
“Wait! Miro, please hear me out! I’m so…”
He still manages to say before the teen can finally press the big red icon, ending his attempt to talk.
Casemiro keeps staring at the message asking him to rate the quality of the call as in a trance but when he finally comes out of it and lowers his cell phone, he finds out everybody in the room is looking at him.
“What?” He barks at them and his team has the decency to pretend to go back to mind their own business.
“Dude, what just happened?” Neymar asks as if he isn’t sitting by his side and wasn’t able to see everything.
Casemiro has the urge to tell him off but doesn’t want to claim more attention to himself. “Thiago busted my call with Celo.”
The word ‘worried’ is written all over Marquinhos’ face when he asks from his other side. “You're still not talking to him?”
“Why would I?” Miro snorts and sinks deeper into the couch. “As Billie once said: I’m happier than ever.
“Do you listen to Billie Eilish?” Neymar asks excitedly.
When all Casemiro offers as an answer is an eye roll, Marc keeps pressing. “How much longer are you planning to ignore him?”
The captain groans and uses both hands to drag the skin of his face down in agony. He wishes he could just tell Marquinhos to fuck off, but the guy is too nice. “Look, I'll talk to Thiago after exams week is over,” Supposing he can last this long. “If we make amends now he’ll be all up in my case about studying.”
He doesn’t get to see but he can bet his house Ney and Marc share a look to agree that’s the end of this conversation while he’s busy checking his nails. Miro starts to wonder if there’s still some space on his belly for one more slice of cake when they change subjects.
“Well, did you guys have fun at Sergio’s party?” Asks Neymar.
“Man! There were so many people there!” Casemiro answers with a big smile appearing on his lips.
“It was pretty crazy,” Says Marquinhos, sounding way less thrilled.
His tone is enough to make the captain’s smile grow as he leans a little on Ney’s space. “You know… Sergio introduced us to his old flings.”
It’s Marc’s turn to groan in despair.
“What?” Neymar presses on, eyes wide with disbelief. “He said it like that? Come here I wanna show you my exes?”
“Of course not,” Miro denies because it wasn’t exactly like that. “But… there was a vibe, you know?”
“For real?” Asks Ney but his eyes are on Marquinhos as if the little shit thinks he’s trolling or something.
“Yeah,” Marquinho mumbles miserably. “Casillas, Piqué, Rubio… They all looked like supermodels.”
“And these were the ones that showed up at the party,” Casemiro adds unhelpfully. “There might be more out there.”
When Marc groans once again, Neymar hurries to reassure him. “They can’t be that attractive!”
In the end Ney grabs his phone so they can look for all of their Instagrams and Miro keeps making a bunch of unhelpful comments that make Marquinhos whine like a baby.
But all in all it’s a good party.