ᶠÚᵗᵇᵒˡ Oɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs ⎳⎳

HaAland HaAlaNd- (Haaland x Jude)

- "We scored, we won, so I'm very happy..yeah."

- "But I guess you won't stop scoring?"

- "Uhhh-"

As Haaland looks around and tries cooking up an answer, Jude sprints over and places a gentle peck by his neck. But he sprints right away, Haaland's cheeks heating up, looking at the direction Jude's in.

- "A little kiss from Jude there, how was he tonight?" The reporter chuckled, leaving Haaland's cheeks to be completely exploited-ly red now. He was contemplating on what to say, because he was at loss of words now from the un-expected little kiss.

- "He is fantastic. He's 18 so um yeah..he's younger than me so um he's amazing."

Hoots and whistles echoed from the background, as the reporter took his leave. Haaland could do nothing but just stand and stare at the latter from afar. Jude always had a subliminal effect on Haaland, and it was just that right now. Jude looked back, smiling widely and blowing a kiss to him. Haaland just scratched his neck, smiling like a drunkard. Well, he is drunk in love, so it counts.

---

Everyone sprayed cans of beer all around, as screams filled in. The team was celebrating their win against Besiktas. Haaland just covered himself from all the beer that was being sprayed around, while Jude screamed loud with pride, pouring beer over Haaland in purpose.

Jude cackled, holding his stomach, as Haaland just smiled and looked at Jude. The way Jude's face scrunches up when he laughs, how his eyes have a glint to them, how his lips curve into a smile. Everything about him is what Haaland finds no short of perfect.

Jude felt odd of Haaland when he noticed how the taller man was just looking down at him with a small smile instead of playfully throwing on cuffings. Jude threw on a bit more, but it just made Haaland feel more and more comfortable and happy in Jude's company.

Well, by now, Jude had emptied 3 cans on Haaland and it really surprised him how Haaland hadn't moved an inch, or barely uttered a word. Jude didn't exactly understand why. He gave Haaland a little nudge, as the taller man felt himself come back to reality. Well, his little fantasy world was preferably better than reality.

- "You 'kay there Erling? You don't seem to be here at the moment." Jude asked, wrapping an arm by his back. It barely made it around Haaland's torso but, oh well.

- "Well um..yeah."

- "If you're un-comfortable I can drop you home.." Jude said, bring Haaland a bit to the corner where it felt somehow quieter between them, despite being in the same room.

- "No Jude..it's okay. I'm fine, really."

- "But-"

- "Hush, it's alright. Oh and, could I possibly get a spare shirt?"

- "Huh?"

Haaland pointed at his drenched shirt, which made his finely carved six pack and HUGE pecks visible. Jude noticed and slightly blushed, but didn't understand exactly why. They both are men and it shouldn't really make him so flustered.

- "Well...no?" Jude laughed akwardly, earning an eye roll from Haaland.

- "You owe me a good meal, come on let's go eat." Haaland grabbed Jude's hand and dragged the latter as the team started to started to swarm the dinner table to eat.

Fast forward to a few hours later.

By now, most weren't in their senses. A few were attempting to leave but kept falling, and Jude was on of them. Haaland sighed as Jude pushed the shot glass on Haaland's lips, giggling and hiccing.