[Football] Bad Boy Batty

On the evening of January 1, the 8 French Football Golden Ball Awards ceremony was held at the Grand Palais on Avenue Winston Churchill in Paris. A few hours in advance, Batistuta took Lucas on a private jet to France.

When they arrived at the airport, someone was already waiting there. Edmundo had prepared everything for his beloved godson, but unfortunately, he himself was not there.

Batty got into the back seat of a luxury car, looking very depressed. Lucas found it very novel because the car was so expensive that he had only seen it in magazines and on the Internet.

"Your godfather wanted to come over, 'I can't miss baby Batistuta getting his first Ballon d'Or.' Those were his exact words." The white-haired man who was in charge of receiving them said while leaning on the car door. He looked 4% similar to Edmundo, and Lucas guessed that they were probably relatives.

"Okay, I get it. He must have been harassed by someone again." Batty rolled his eyes. "Who is it? Tell me which ungrateful guy it is. I'm going to put him on the blacklist."

"River Phoenix, he and Dudu had a quarrel about marriage." The man replied, "It wasn't a big deal, but Leonardo and Keanu showed up suddenly. They didn't know Dudu and River were planning a public wedding, and then things got serious. Dudu just ran away from the manor when I went there. Now he should be drinking with Depp - I guess."

Batty made an irritable "beep" sound, and didn't comment on his godfather's love life. It was good to make a fuss. Anyway, he didn't like Rui Fan to be his godmother. In fact, he didn't like any of his godfather's lovers. Those guys were all bastards.

After thinking for a while, he looked at the man outside the window: "Why are you here today, where is Lucy?"

"Oh, about this." The man said half-jokingly, "He went to see God. There are some things that need to be settled by him. You know, after all, your godfather dares to sleep with even God."

Batty rolled his eyes again and waved to the driver to start the car.

"Bye." He raised his chin and said goodbye to the man.

"Bye~" The man waved at him with a smile, "Have fun."

The airport scenery and the man's figure gradually faded away. Lucas looked back for a few seconds and nudged Batty with his knee: "Who is that guy? Does your godfather have other brothers?"

"No, he's an assistant and a cleaner who helps Dudu deal with other things that Lucy doesn't care about." Batty adjusted his collar and leaned lazily against the window. "He claims to be a cousin of the Bonaparte family, but I think he's more of a money-swindler - but he's quite capable, so my godfather kept him."

Lucas's face wrinkled. "Lucy? Michelle? They sound like angels and demons. And did you hear what he just said? 'Gone to see God.' God, your godfather is surrounded by religious fanatics."

Batty gave him a 'Yeah, I think so too' look.

"But I believe that angels and demons exist, and so does God." He said that 99% of Brazilians are extremely pious, as can be seen from the fact that they pray together in the locker room before every game. Batty didn't want to continue this topic. He glanced up and down at Lucas and said, "Sit tight, or you will fly out when the brakes are applied. We can't add any more to our injury list."

The French defender posed in a very artificial manner, but before he could hold on for half a minute, he could no longer sit still and insisted on opening the window to get some fresh air, rolling his eyes at him for the third time that day.

If Kevin was sitting next to him at this moment, what he would say would be -
"Be gentle, don't bite... that's a garter, not a lingerie... Hey! You're going to tear my collar! I don't have a spare one!"

Instead of like now——
"Shut up, sit still, and put your head back, are you a fool?"

Batty: (Angry as a pufferfish.jpg)

……

The city of Paris is not as big as people imagine. It didn't take long for them to reach their destination. After walking on the red carpet, Lucas became much more normal. As a player who has seen big scenes, he was no stranger to reporters who were frantically taking photos and fans who were asking for his autograph and photos.

After entering the Grand Palace, they met Griezmann who was also attending. Lucas was quite excited, which reminded Batistuta of the scene where his three dogs were attracted by the squirrel and dragged him forward, and Kevin was the craziest among them.

Oh, Kevin.

Whenever he talks about his dog by name, in his imagination, the dog Kevin he is holding always turns into the human Kevin, which is very interesting. However, judging from his personality, the human Kevin should be a cat.

"Hey Batistuta! Why are you always distracted every time we meet?" Griezmann's teasing voice pulled Batistuta out of his own world. "It was during the World Cup, and it was when we played games together a while ago. And today, is it easy for me to distract you with my face?"

Batty gave him a fake smile.

"Come on, I'm just wondering when your documentary will end. If you agree to that lunatic's terms and go to Manchester United, I guarantee you will never have the chance to win a derby again," he said.

"Oh, about that, I haven't decided yet." Griezmann winked at Batistuta, "Don't be so sharp dear, hey Luki, is he always like this at the club?"

Lucas laughed, "No, he's a little nervous today."

Barty rolled his eyes.

Lucas and Griezmann talked about the past, and Batistuta was a little bored. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of De Bruyne, who flashed by at the corner.

He followed, and after passing through two retro and heavy doors, Batty came to a dark corridor.

"Kevin? Are you here?" He turned on the flashlight on his phone and explored forward. "Don't play hide-and-seek. We don't have much time. Don't waste it-"

The next second, Batty was dragged into a small room.

The cell phone light went out and darkness returned to the surroundings.

"You're right, I can't waste any more time." De Bruyne confirmed the general direction in the dark, then kissed Batistuta all the way along his jaw to the corner of his mouth.

He would not admit that he did this because he read it in a fan fiction. After Batistuta and he were confirmed to participate in the Ballon d'Or, many articles they wrote at the award ceremony appeared on the website called Ao3. After eliminating the articles with Lucas or anyone else involved, De Bruyne chose the one he thought was most to Batistuta's liking as a reference.

"Is this the extent of the kiss, Kevin?" Batty chuckled twice, and in the dark he reached out and stroked the other's cheek, then kissed him unexpectedly.

For some reason, the temperature of the two lips was a little low, so Barty increased his strength to try to make them as warm as himself. His lips first touched the other's teeth, and Barty used the tip of his tongue to pry them open deftly, gradually going deep into the mouth from the gums on both sides.

De Bruyne must have been well prepared for the award ceremony tonight. From his mouth, Batistuta tasted a faint scent of camellia.

De Bruyne hated, or rather did not like, Batistuta's initiative, because that always made him realize the fact that the other party was experienced and not all with him. He tilted his head to end the kiss, brushed away Batistuta's hand, grabbed the back of his head, turned over and controlled the man between himself and the wall to take the initiative.

This is what Batty is looking forward to.

"Kevin..."

The Belgian midfielder liked hearing him say his name, it felt like maple syrup on toast. He put his other hand around his waist, bringing him closer to him until there was no space between them. With barely perceptible grievance, he began the second kiss almost roughly, swallowing all those lovely, thick whispers into his mouth.

He didn't like it, messing up the other party would only make him feel bad, but helplessly, Batty liked it.

The kiss ended and the air in the small room heated up.

Both of them had unsteady breathing, as if they had just finished a running training session. Batistuta kissed De Bruyne's chin lightly, then squatted down. He felt a little uncomfortable because he had to go on stage to receive the award, so he couldn't kneel down completely.

The Belgian midfielder frowned. This was not the next step in his plan.

"Barty, you—"

Before he finished speaking, Batty had already held it in his hand.

"See, it missed me as much as you did."

De Bruyne couldn't see the whole picture clearly in the darkness, but just by seeing Batistuta's light-colored head working hard in front of him, he felt that all the blood in his body was gathering there.

Suddenly. [Ding——]
Batistuta's phone rang with a notification tone, as if he was particularly concerned about something. He paused, uttered a few annoyed grumbles from his throat, and after using the back of his hand to wipe off the residue from the corner of his mouth, he threw the phone to De Bruyne: "Help me see what it is."

De Bruyne unlocked his phone, and the light from the screen almost blinded him.

Now he knew why Batty had given him the phone.

"Little bastard." He muttered, adjusted the brightness and opened the notification bar. If there was enough light in the room, Batty would definitely be able to clearly see the moment when his expression suddenly turned cold.

"Who is it?" Batty asked, shaking it.

"Neymar," De Bruyne said. "He just started a Twitch stream, playing Call of Duty 16."

Don't watch the awards ceremony on Golden Globe night?

Batty's lips curled up into a cold smile.

"Never mind him," he said, kissing the top gently, "Let's continue."

……

There were only a few minutes left before the award ceremony began. Lucas looked back and forth in his seat. Because he was the favorite, the organizer arranged them to sit in the first row, almost on time, so Barty arrived late.

"Oh my God! Where have you been, Batistuta?" The French defender pulled his hand and started talking. "You know, I was wondering what I was going to say when I go on stage to receive the award for you if you don't show up at the award ceremony later. Wait, what happened to your lips? Did you roll around with some girl?"

"Why rush? The winner of the Ballon d'Or will be announced in the last hour." Batistuta twirled his lower lip with his thumb and glanced at him. "Are you looking forward to accepting the award on my behalf, Luki?"

"What? Am I such a person in your mind, Batistuta?" Lucas pointed at Batistuta's shoulder with his eyes wide open. "You don't know yet, but for you, I rejected Antoine, and he also invited me to participate in the Golden Globe Awards."

"Wow!" Batty pretended to be surprised. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Hey! I'm sad! I won't applaud you when you win the award later." Lucas acted angry, "You have to show some appreciation, I'm serious!"

Batty took a candy out of his pocket and threw it to him (which Kevin gave him).

So Lucas was happy again, and the issue of lips was resolved.

Soon the lights dimmed, the host appeared, and the award ceremony officially began. This year's Ballon d'Or was different from previous years. This year, France Football magazine newly established the Women's Ballon d'Or and the Kopa Award. The Women's Ballon d'Or, like the Men's Ballon d'Or, is selected by professional journalists, while the Kopa Award is to reward the best young player under the age of 21 of the year.

As netizens guessed, Mbappe won the Kopa Award and became the best newcomer of the year, while Norwegian player Helberg won the first Women's Golden Ball Award.

Finally, it’s time to present the all-important Golden Globe Award.

First there was a performance to liven up the atmosphere. A dance team made up of young children from the academy stepped onto the podium. Batistuta clapped along with everyone else, and Lucas patted his thigh.

"Are you nervous, Barty?" he asked.

"Why would I be nervous?" Barty asked. "There is no suspense anymore. Apart from the audience in front of the TV, who else in the venue doesn't know that I will be the winner?"

"I understand, but—"

"Are you nervous?" Batty interrupted him, and then he reached out to straighten Lucas's tie. "Don't worry, you look great. I'll find the best time to thank you later. You'll look stunning on camera."

Seeing his thoughts were exposed, Lucas smiled awkwardly. He lowered his head and pinched Batty's fingertips.

"Thank you."

"No. Sit tight, the camera's on us—wave and smile, you idiot."

……

In a villa in Manchester, Neymar was live streaming a game. Of course, there was a reduced screen in the upper left corner of his screen, which was broadcasting the live broadcast of the annual Ballon d'Or awards ceremony.

The camera was turned to Batistuta, and Neymar looked over while shooting, just in time to see him adjusting Lucas's bow tie.

[Snap]
The character controlled by Neymar was shot in the head.

"Mistake, mistake." He scratched his hair towards the camera, then typed "gg" on the public screen. "In that case, let's watch the award ceremony."

He zoomed in on the small screen, and the camera had moved away from Batty.

[The winner of this year's Golden Globe Award is - Batista! Congratulations to you Batista! ]

Amid thunderous applause from the audience, Barty emerged from the white light, raised the trophy with his signature flamboyant smile, and kissed the trophy as he walked to the stage.

"Thank you, I am honored to receive the award and even more honored to hold it (the trophy) in the presence of so many people, especially the last winner and the winner before that, my friends Cristiano and Leo, who have monopolized this trophy for the past 10 years."

Batty's speech caused a friendly laughter at the scene. The camera found the two people. Inexplicably, the audience in front of the TV read the same helplessness from their expressions.

"Thanks to my godfather. Without him, I would never be standing here." He continued his speech, "Also, I want to thank my coach, my teammates, and my female companion Luki who accompanied me to the scene today. I heard that he rejected a very important person for me--"

Batistuta's speech was still wonderful, but from the beginning to the end when he walked off the stage with the trophy, he didn't mention Neymar at all, which was in stark contrast to the FIFA awards in August.

So much so that the audience in Neymar's live broadcast room began to flood the screen with messages asking what happened between him and Batistuta.

Neymar leaned back in his gaming chair, with half of the screen showing awards and the other half showing messages from the live broadcast room. His expression was gloomy.

"Nothing has happened. Don't make blind guesses." He said to the live broadcast room, "We are fine. We were fine before, we are fine now, and we will be fine in the future. I promise."

(End of this chapter)