[Football] Bad Boy Batty

To be honest, Mbappe didn't want to get involved in Batistuta's affairs at all, but Augustus always dragged him around, and even gave a good reason: If there were two of them, Batistuta wouldn't be so wary of him.

He didn't care what Batistuta thought. If Mbappe didn't think Augustus' family background would be helpful to his future development, he should have been participating in a speech event to help children in France at this time.

Instead of standing here and watching his own captain compete with the Belgian captain for the Brazilian captaincy, he might also be misunderstood as being involved in the matter.

Mbappe looked at the stage in the distance a little helplessly.

Sometimes he would think, just take Barty away, then the world would be peaceful, and the little bastard was quite cute when he didn't choke people. Of course, this crazy idea only flashed occasionally, if he really did that, his normal life would be over.

"Why do you think so, Batistuta? We are not here to see you. Kylian likes Martin Garrix very much. We are here to attend the electronic music festival." Augustus found a perfect reason for his behavior.

But Batty didn't believe it and responded with a sneer.

"Let's go." De Bruyne suggested, holding his hand obviously and deliberately.

"Don't be so anxious. I have something else to verify." Augustus suddenly changed the subject.

Batty felt uneasy.

"Ignore him." He touched De Bruyne's arm. "Let's go, Kevin."

As they turned around, Augustus raised his voice and said, "You promised to get my name, but I saw the new tattoo you posted on Instagram, and it's not on it."

These words successfully stopped De Bruyne.

"Kevin?" Batty regretted not covering the ears of the Belgian midfielder next to him. It was too late now. "Don't you want to go back to the hotel?"

De Bruyne looked over and said: "You want to tattoo his name on your body?"

"You saw me get that tattoo, you know what's on it." Batty tried to avoid the core question, "That guy is a lunatic, do you really believe him, Kevin?"

"I trust your reaction more." De Bruyne didn't let Batistuta succeed. He bypassed all the channels and went straight to the center. "If you hadn't promised that, you would have directly refuted him and said he was talking nonsense, but you didn't."

Augustus was glad that he had started the war.

"He has a point," he interjected. "You've been much more resolute in the face of baseless slander."

"Shut up!" Batistuta took the time to give the French midfielder a warning look, "You have none of your business here!"

"No, no, no, there is. I want to hear him talk about it." De Bruyne turned to face Augustus, "When did Batistuta agree to this?"

"I can't remember, probably after you scored the winning goal against Real Madrid." Augustus deliberately blurred the time, "I went to find him after he celebrated with you guys."

De Bruyne looked at Batistuta.

"That's not the case!! Kevin!"

It was as if he had just celebrated the winning goal with De Bruyne and then turned around to have a secret meeting with Augustus.

"I believe you." De Bruyne said softly.

Although the electronic music festival was very noisy, Batty still heard it, "Thank you for your trust, we--"

"But Batistuta," De Bruyne interrupted him. "I believe you didn't take the initiative to look for him, but about the tattoo, Kyle saw the design drawings at the designer's place that day. A.R., how do you explain it?"

Oh hell.

Batty didn't expect that his associative ability was so strong.

“That’s virtual reality,” he explained. “It’s my godfather’s movie.”

"Did you really design a pattern for me?" Augustus interrupted again at an inopportune moment. He was very excited. "Oh my God, Batty, I should have thought of it. You wouldn't put me together with your teammates!"

The original intention was to throw him out as a whole, but when he said it, the meaning somehow changed, as if Batty cherished him so much that he had to give him a piece of skin alone.

"I didn't see the rest of the process." De Bruyne had obviously come to a conclusion, "Where did you get the tattoo?"

"Yeah, where did you tattoo me?" Augustus continued to add fuel to the fire, "Let me guess - the position of the heart on the chest? Mon coeur."

Batty: ...

He suddenly had the urge to get angry and fight back at both of them. That was his body, his skin, he could tattoo whatever he wanted, and no one had the right to be angry with him and ask him to give an explanation.

But no.

Augustus didn't care. He had achieved his goal tonight anyway, and he loved whatever Batistuta said. What was important was De Bruyne. If Batistuta blamed him for meddling too much with an indifferent attitude, he would be sad, and that would mean more quarrels.

He didn't want to deal with any more arguments with Kevin.

So what to do?
Batty decided that if he couldn't solve the problem, he would solve the person who raised the problem.

"This is all your fucking fault!" He smoothed his hair, rushed towards Augustus and grabbed his collar, looking like he was going to beat him up.

Taking advantage of the short distance, Batty gritted his teeth and whispered to him, "Go back! Otherwise, I will wash it off tomorrow."

what is this?
It was probably an indirect acknowledgement that he really had his name tattooed, and it was quite compromising, even though the words were full of threats, but it was like a kitten showing its claws to the two of them.

"Get out!" Batty repeated in a low voice.

People around began to notice that they were about to 'fight'.

Augustus probably thought of this, and Batty watched as the pair of eyes so close to him gradually filled with smiles, and also watched him quietly mouth "OK" to him.

"Calm down, man, this is a music festival." Several young people gathered around him, "Let him go, you don't want to trouble the security, right?"

Augustus pushed Batistuta away, then stepped back with his hands raised to his chest to indicate that he was fine. He then called Mbappe, turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

The dispute was over and the young men did not stay any longer.

Batty breathed a sigh of relief.

But this does not mean that things are really over. De Bruyne is not as easy to fool as Grealish, who can be fooled by a few jokes and witticisms.

"Kevin?"

Sure enough, De Bruyne was angry.

He had a cold face the whole time, from the time they left the electronic music festival to the time they returned to the hotel, and he ignored Batty's explanations and flattery all the way. He finally relented only after they parked the rental car and walked into the elevator.

"This has nothing to do with the tattoo." He stared at the elevator button and said stiffly, "I thought you hated him."

"I hate him," Batty said. "How do you know I like him?"

Everywhere, De Bruyne thought.

"You hate him so much that you even tattooed his name on your body." He sneered, "God, it seems that if I want a tattoo of my own, I just need to make you hate me, right?"

"Are you jealous of him, Kevin?" Batty looked over with wide eyes.

"Jealous?" De Bruyne sneered, "I'm not jealous of him. If I want, I can make your whole body covered with my 'tattoos' tonight."

"WHAT??"

"I'm not jealous of anyone," he said. "You're mine."

Batistuta suddenly wanted to laugh. De Bruyne, who was jealous and angry, was very cute, just like a child, who was determined to declare his ownership.

"How many times have I said this? I am not yours, nor am I anyone else's." He reached out and cupped the Belgian midfielder's cheeks, giving him a kiss that was imprinted on the corner of his mouth. "But you can be mine."

"We're in the elevator," De Bruyne said warningly, but he did not stop Batistuta from kissing him. Perhaps somewhere in his heart he hoped that their affair would be exposed.

"I know," Barty said, leaving countless kisses from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. "But I don't give a fuck. You know what I care about? I care about you."

De Bruyne grabbed his waist and squeezed it lightly.

"Don't think you can fool me with a few kisses," he said. "Tell me where you got that thing tattooed."

Batty winked at him. "Would you be happy if I said on the soles of my feet?"

"Maybe." De Bruyne looked over and asked, "Are you serious?"

Batty shrugged and gave the same answer he had given a second ago.

"perhaps."

The corners of De Bruyne's mouth, which were originally relaxed, immediately turned into a straight line again. He knew that this was because he gave the little bastard a chance, he loosened up, just because of a few kisses, he was no longer firm, the little bastard knew that he was just pretending so he became unscrupulous again.

"Go to hell!" He rarely cursed like this.

[Ding--]
The elevator finally reached their floor.

De Bruyne planned to rush out as soon as the door opened. Since the door was stuck here, he would open the door as quickly as possible and lock the little bastard outside until he apologized sincerely.

But God's jokes are sometimes late but never absent.

Who would have thought that when the elevator door opened, two old friends appeared outside.

The four of them looked at each other.

In the elevator, Batistuta and De Bruyne, outside the elevator, Courtois and Hazard. Batistuta was suddenly surrounded by Belgians.

"Oh?" Courtois noticed the strange atmosphere between the two people in the elevator. He smiled at them maliciously, "What? Did you have a fight?"

"That's none of your business!" De Bruyne said in an aggressive tone, sounding like he had eaten a pound of dynamite. "Get out of the way, Eden. I don't know why you came out with him and I don't want to know. Make way. I want to pass."

Batty rolled his eyes helplessly.

They came out of the elevator and De Bruyne walked towards the room angrily. Courtois gave up the elevator when he saw this.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault," he said.

"You don't even know what happened." Batistuta laughed at him, then waved to Hazard and pretended to leave. "See you later."

"Don't leave in a hurry, Batistuta." Courtois stopped him. "Eden and I have prepared a lot of interesting things. If you are interested, you are welcome to join us."

Ok?
Batty raised his eyebrows. What is this, an invitation?

He looked at Hazard, who shrugged and gave a friendly smile: "Yeah, Kevin is hard to calm down when he's angry. If you don't want to be locked out, you can come to us."

"He's not going anywhere!!"

Before Batistuta could answer, De Bruyne rushed back from a distance. He forcefully grabbed Batistuta's wrist and pulled him behind him, staring at Courtois with sharp eyes.

"Don't go after him," De Bruyne said.

Courtois spread his hands to indicate that he had done nothing. "Don't be such a jerk, Kevin," he said. "If you want to join, we can have four of us."

Batty was shocked by his shamelessness.

Not to mention De Bruyne, he was so furious that he immediately pulled Batistuta out of the corridor, as if he would be infected with some terrible virus if he stayed for even one second longer.

Batistuta could only turn around and wave to Courtois and Hazard.

Hazard was still as friendly as ever and he also said goodbye to Batistuta, while Courtois mouthed to Batistuta to remember to call him if he changed his mind, and they always welcomed him to join.

……

After returning to the room in silence and closing the door, De Bruyne finally exploded.

"I can't, I don't--" He paced back and forth in the room angrily, or to be more precise, paced back and forth around Barty, "Every time, I mean every time! I-I accept your complete hedonistic attitude, but can you please consider me, just once!"

"You mean, this is all my fault?" Batty asked, crossing his arms. He began to get impatient, and De Bruyne's attitude made him feel that the compromise just now was completely in vain.

"I'm not saying... I'm not saying it's anyone's fault!" The Belgian complained loudly, but he didn't seem to have a specific target to accuse. "It's not your fault, it's not anyone's fault, but I always have to find an excuse to vent!"

"so?"

"I blame myself," De Bruyne said in a self-deprecating tone.

Batty didn't know how to respond to this.

"Perhaps," he said, "I didn't force you."

"Yeah, good." De Bruyne hit the pillow, but it didn't seem to be very hard. "I think I need to calm down."

He suddenly began to pack his suitcase, shoving all his things into it, then dragged it out of the room.

Batty was stunned.

What the hell is this?
"Are you going to leave me here, Kevin?" Batty complained to the door, "God, I've always been like this to others. What happened? God finally couldn't stand it anymore, and it's my turn now."

There was no movement at the door.

Okay, very good.

Batistuta began to think about who to call next, Augustus, Courtois, or both.

But just at this moment, when he had just imagined the crazy scene of them together, the door was opened forcefully.

It's De Bruyne.

He came back angrily just like before.

"Did you forget something?" Batty taunted, "You just forgot to take your fur with you to the bathroom... huh?"

What he didn't expect was that after De Bruyne entered the room, he didn't say a word, walked straight to Batistuta, then dropped the suitcase, held Batistuta's face with both hands and kissed him hard.

He didn't say anything, just kissed him.

It seemed as if there was nothing else in the world except Batty.

"——Kevin?" Batty's surprise was about to overflow, but he quickly indulged in the kiss.

Kissing is not simple. You can feel a lot from the other person's lips, such as reluctance, impulse, liking and love.

Batty likes this, it's like opening a blind box.

After the kiss, De Bruyne kept holding Batistuta's face.

"Yes, I forgot something." He said softly, "I should have taken you with me."

Oh, this is so sweet.

Batty looked up, then hugged his waist back.

"You're such a bastard," De Bruyne cursed in a low voice, "I know you're a damn bastard, but I can't help but love you."

Jesus is above.

Is there any love words more beautiful than this?
Batty took his hand that was on his face, interlaced his fingers, and raised them to his lips again.

While they were kissing, he kicked the suitcase at his feet away.

"I don't want you to press me to the ground and hurt my waist while I'm writing." Batty teased ambiguously.

“Maybe I could press you against it.” De Bruyne grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Then we…”

The ringing of the telephone interrupted him.

"What the hell!"
"Oh my God!"

They both complained at the same time.

De Bruyne quickly took out his phone to check, but the caller ID stunned him, "Why did Neymar call me?" he turned around and asked.

"How should I know?" Batty shrugged. "Maybe because I blocked him."

"You blocked him?"

"Yeah, you told me, he stood me up," Batistuta said, reaching for De Bruyne's phone and answering the call. "Hello, Ney, how are you doing?"

There was silence for a few seconds.

"Where have you been, Batistuta?" Neymar asked. "Why did you block me? What did I do?"

"Is Ibiza fun?" Batty asked.

"It's okay, it's the same without you." Neymar said, "Wait, are you angry about this? Come on, Amor, I want to arrange it in advance."

"Oh, that's very thoughtful." Batty pretended to be touched, "But unfortunately, I can't go."

"Where are you now?"

"Tomorrowland Electronic Music Festival in Belgium." Batistuta looked at De Bruyne and replied, "We had a lot of fun. We'll talk about it when we get back. Bye."

"Wait!" Neymar called him. "I have something important to talk to you about, Batistuta. It's your apartment building. Something's wrong with it!"

Batty: ?
"What do you mean?"

"Loach didn't tell you that your house was robbed," Neymar said. "He didn't want to bother you, but I think you should know this."

"Huh? You mean, someone robbed me?" Batty couldn't believe it.

"No, no, it was thieves," Neymar said. "Don't worry about any property loss, they didn't take anything."

This is still acceptable.

"But Batistuta, those two thieves are going to sue you," Neymar added, "because one of them was seriously injured by your guard dogs and is now in hospital."

Batty: ...

outrageous.

(End of this chapter)