[Football] Bad Boy Batty

Despite being quite unhappy, Stones still followed Batistuta back to the club early. Sitting in the passenger seat, the England center back carefully checked Batistuta's expression through the reflection of the windshield.

The little king of Manchester City put away his misbehavior in the shower just now. He now looks very calm, with no special expression, but the more he looked like this, the more worried Stones became.

[bite-]
Stones' phone received several text messages in succession, all of which were ridicule and ridicule from his good friend Kyle Walker.

Walker: You actually followed Batty
Walker: Who told me to stay away from him before?
Walker: Get everyone out of the way so you can get to the top, right?
Walker: Too scheming, bah!
Stones: …
Stones: That's not the case

Walker: Then explain why

Stones stared at his friend's soul on the screen and asked questions, but suddenly he was stuck.

Yes, he clearly wanted to stay away from Batistuta and Kevin's mess, so why did he still get involved? And he had the opportunity and reason to refuse just now, why didn't he? Most importantly... in the shower room, why did he think of the mosaic when he saw Batistuta?

As he was thinking about it, his brain couldn't help but present the scene in the shower room just now. Batty was wrapped in a bath towel, his hair was still dripping with water, his whole body was emitting heat, and because of his height, he tilted his head slightly and gave him a sly smile.

Stones felt his throat was a little dry and his face was a little hot. Maybe he had a cold because he didn't pay attention after the game, he said to himself.

They returned to the Etihad training base in silence all the way. Stones followed Batistuta and was taken by Alandes to the room where De Bruyne was being examined.

"They (the medical team) just took an X-ray of him and may not be back for a while." Arandez said outside the door, "Now none of us knows what's wrong with his knee, but it's probably a ligament problem. It won't heal by missing one or two games, so - don't irritate him, okay."

Batistuta nodded and made a promise, and Alandos left satisfied.

Before entering the house, Stones thought about it and decided to stay at the door.

"I will not get involved in your conversation. You can do whatever you want to do." He said to Batty, "I will stay at the door. If anyone wants to go in, I will remind you."

Batty looked at him strangely for a few seconds, and finally agreed. Without asking any more questions, Batty pushed the door and walked in.

The room was filled with high-tech medical equipment. Kevin De Bruyne was sitting on the bed by the window, his right knee simply fixed at about 25 degrees. He was looking at his phone and had no reaction to Batistuta's arrival.

"Hey, Kevin." Batty walked over to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Not bad," De Bruyne replied calmly. He just gave Batistuta a quick look and then returned to his phone screen. "They gave me a painkiller injection and I'm just waiting for the results."

Batistuta noticed that his phone contained news reports about the match, so he raised his lips and took the phone from De Bruyne: "If you want to know about the match, you can ask me. I am more authoritative than any official news."

"No need to bother." De Bruyne said calmly, "I just want to know the result of the game. Now I know it, 4-0, not bad, your last goal was beautiful."

This is not right.

This doesn't feel right.

Kevin would not speak to him so coldly. Batty looked over in confusion and asked, "Are you still angry with me, Kevin dear?"

"Why should I be mad at you?" De Bruyne responded with a rhetorical question.

"Because I provoked my opponent and got you hurt, that was stupid, I know, it's my fault," Batistuta said sincerely. "Pep told me it wasn't my fault, but usually he needs to say that to me, it's my responsibility."

"Oh, I'm not angry with you." De Bruyne said unexpectedly, "It wasn't you who got me injured, it was the fault of Brian's defender. The FA will ban him. This matter may be hyped by the media for a few days, but the heat will soon die down. You don't need to come to me specifically to apologize."

It's so weird.

Batty couldn't accept it for a moment.

"But you're still angry," Batty said.

"Why do you think I'm angry?" De Bruyne answered him again with a rhetorical question.

"If you're not angry, why don't you smile at me, why don't you kiss me." Batty softened his tone, bent down, and slowly approached. He held De Bruyne's face and stroked his lower lip with his thumb. "I miss you, Kevin."

De Bruyne showed no sign of softening.

"This is my choice," he said, looking into Batistuta's eyes. "Also, we are in the club now. Please don't mention anything other than the competitive level. That's unprofessional."

Batty was stunned.

He was fixed in place for more than 10 seconds, then he broke away from De Bruyne's safety area, took two steps back, stood up and looked De Bruyne in the eye.

De Bruyne saw surprise, confusion, sadness and other emotions in Batistuta's eyes. He felt his entire chest tightening, but no, he had to hold it in. If he was soft-hearted towards the little bastard now, he would be heartbroken more and more in the future.

"It's unprofessional in terms of competition." Batty repeated his words twice, his eyes gradually turning cold. "I'll ask you one last time, Kevin, are you mad at me?"

"No," De Bruyne replied calmly, "You did nothing wrong, it was the defender's fault."

Batty felt like a balloon had exploded in his head.

"Very good, very good." He crossed his arms. "I'm glad you're not mad at me, because I'm not going to change myself. Fouling is not a reason to give up my playing style."

"Thank you, Kevin." Batty emphasized each word and stepped back at the same time. "Then I'll go home and continue to have fun. Bye."

Just as he turned to open the door, De Bruyne's voice came from behind him: "Wait——"

Batistuta raised the corner of his mouth jokingly and turned around, but De Bruyne did not give in to him as he had imagined, and still maintained his expressionless and cold face.

He said: "You are now the little king that the fans have high hopes for and the player that Pep trusts the most. You should learn to be more mature."
He said: "Maturity does not mean you have to change your style. You can still dance your samba on the field, but after the game, you have to take more responsibility and give the fans the most appropriate answers through the media. Football is not just about winning or losing. Fans want the team to win and hope everything is good for the team."

Batty stared at the other person in a daze, his tongue tied. At this moment, he couldn't even think of any effective rebuttal or complaint.

OK, Kevin, you are great.

"Okay, I accept your suggestion, thank you."
"Are you teaching me how to do things, honey?"
"Wait until you become the head coach before you talk to me like that, idiot."

Batistuta had countless responses in mind, but in the end he said nothing, not even giving De Bruyne any expression. He just stared at the Belgian midfielder for a few seconds, then turned around and slammed the door and left. What is this, a humiliation?
Who does he think he is?

Batistuta was so angry that he almost knocked down the door frame, which scared Stones who was squatting at the door. The England defender jumped up like Bugs Bunny. After seeing Batistuta and his dark face, he was completely stunned.

"It's only been --" Stones looked at his watch, "You've only been in for 3 minutes, Batistuta, that's too fast. What happened to Kevin? Is he still sad about his injury?"

Batty snorted loudly: "He's just an arrogant, cold, stupid bastard!"

Ok?
Isn't that what it describes you?

Stone paused, pulled Batty behind a large pot of plants a few meters away, and whispered, "Why, did you two have a fight?"

"This is not a question of whether we had a quarrel or not, it's -" Batty suddenly stopped, he frowned and looked at Stones, "That's none of your business, we should go, let's go back and meet Pep."

"No, you have to solve the problem." Stones pulled Batty and drew a few circles in front of Batty's face with his hand. "Going back with this expression will only make things worse. The locker room is more sensitive than you think."

Batty paused for a few seconds, shook off his hand, put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the pillar.

"I want to solve the problem, it's that bastard who won't cooperate." He snorted again, "Why are you worried, John? Nothing will happen in the locker room. Kevin is still Kevin. He just doesn't care about me anymore. It's no big deal."

"No big deal?" Stones' eyes widened. "If you and Kevin have a quarrel, the ceiling of the locker room will be blown off!"

"That's not the case."

"Okay, listen to me Batty--" Stones took a deep breath. He had to steady Batty and get him back into the room. If he left like this, things would go to the worst possible place.

"I don't know what happened in there just now, but..." After calming down, he slowly counseled the other party like a psychologist, "But I know that you and Kevin care about each other very much."

"He cares about me? He doesn't even…"

"If he didn't care about you, he wouldn't have helped you out when he was originally upset with you." Stones interrupted Batty's rebuttal and continued, "You were a participant and may not have seen the whole process, but I saw it clearly in the backcourt. You were fouled and Kevin rushed up like a rocket. No kidding, a rocket!"

Barty shut up, pressing his lips into a straight line.

Yes, no matter what, it is a fact that he was injured for him.

For this reason alone, he shouldn't blame Kevin.

"You and I came to Manchester City at the same time. I know you and Kevin. To me, you both have the same quirky temper, but you both care about each other and the club equally." Stones continued, "For each other, for yourself, and for the club, Batistuta, I beg you, go back and have a good talk with him."

If Batistuta and Kevin quarrel, the atmosphere in the locker room will be extremely bad, worse than when Neymar first joined. Don't ask Stones how he knew, he just had this hunch.

"Fine!" Batty finally agreed, and he glared at Stones, but it was obvious that he was bluffing, because he was more at fault in this whole thing. "I will go back and talk to him again, but if he still has the same attitude as before, I swear I will turn around and leave!"

……

'Snapped! '

The door was pushed open again, and Batistuta walked in angrily. He went straight to De Bruyne's bed.

"I thought about it. You can't do this, Kevin. You accused me of mixing work and personal matters, but I have always done this and have always done it well, but you are not. You can't handle this well. You are angry with me because of what I said to you in the hallway, and it has continued until now! We need to talk!"

Unexpectedly, De Bruyne was not looking at his phone, as if he was waiting for Batistuta. He turned his head, suddenly smiled, and changed his posture to sit on the edge of the bed, looking like he was about to get out of bed.

"You're right, I am angry with you." The Belgian midfielder changed his words and admitted it generously.

Batty was stunned; he had not expected things to turn out this way.

But when he didn't expect it, the initiative was no longer in his hands.

"Kevin, you—"

"That's not how the game is played, Batistuta. You're like a child, a willful child who wants everyone to revolve around you, love you, and let you use them for entertainment. You're always like this, saying you don't care, but you're actually greedy to death." De Bruyne told the cruel truth with a smile, just as he did when Batistuta pressed him against the wall that day.

Batty's heart beat faster and he wanted to turn around and leave, but his feet seemed to be nailed to the ground.

"What do you want to say?" he asked.

"I want to say - I do love you, but I don't want to spoil you anymore." De Bruyne happily shook his uninjured good leg. "You know what you said in the corridor that day made me sad. Maybe you regretted it at the time, but you still did it, and you didn't apologize until I was injured for you."

Batty felt his brain burning.

Kevin now is different from any other time. He is not the midfielder who stands up for him on the field and gives people a sense of security, nor is he the Kevin who is extremely kind to him off the field and is willing to agree to all his willful requests. Just looking into the other's eyes makes him feel dizzy and unable to breathe, just like being strangled by the neck during sex.

To be honest, he kind of likes Kevin now.

like-

Pain addiction.

"I gave you a chance, Batistuta. If you hadn't come back, we would have ended everything and restored our simple relationship as teammates," De Bruyne said. "But you chose to completely mix work and emotion. It was your own choice. I just - didn't say it clearly, that's all."

Batistuta and De Bruyne looked at each other, and the air seemed to freeze.

Half a minute later.

"So, what will it take for you to forgive me, Kevin?"

"The apology must be sincere." De Bruyne slightly opened his legs. "Come here, Batistuta, kneel down, and then - be a good boy."

(End of this chapter)