[Football] Bad Boy Batty

"I didn't do that on purpose. You two look so much alike. I bet other people can't tell you apart."

In the treatment room of the Brazilian team's spa hotel, Batistuta and Neymar were receiving treatment on two adjacent beds, while they were also arguing about yesterday's oozing incident.

They have been arguing ever since the incident. Neymar thinks Batistuta did it on purpose to make him angry, while Batistuta just says it was an accident.

They argued in the locker room, on the bus, on the bus, in the hotel room, and they were still talking about it this morning at breakfast.

"Maybe they are arguing even in their dreams," Paqueta joked.

Of course, if a former Real Madrid left-back and a former Barcelona right-back were present, they might take the topic to a deeper level.

And to some extent Paqueta is right.

Before going to bed last night, Batistuta had planned to put the matter behind him, and for this reason he even allowed Neymar to mess with him in his most disliked position without taking any safety measures.

This method worked, and they did stop arguing, but that only lasted for 9 hours.

Batistuta was awakened by thirst in the morning. When he got up to drink water, he overheard Neymar mumbling in his dream: "You are just trying to piss me off... How dare you let me watch you kiss him... You little bastard."

Batty: ...

It's endless, isn't it? I served him for so long last night for nothing.

So Barty pulled Neymar out of bed, pointed at his nose and accused him of being a dishonest guy. Both of them had just woken up and started arguing about the blunder again.

As for whether the guy who was kissed by Batistuta in Neymar's dream was yesterday's imitator, it doesn't matter at all.

"His imitation is not that similar. Maybe it is a little bit from the front, but you are looking at it from the back. That guy does not have my body. Do you see these marks of fitness? People who are familiar with me can tell the difference at a glance."

Neymar was half lying on the therapy bed, angrily showing his arm muscles to Batistuta who was on the next bed. While he was expressing his dissatisfaction, his eyes were unconsciously staring at the physiotherapist who was massaging his muscles.

Even though he was not the target, the physiotherapist still felt very uncomfortable being looked at. Only God knew that he did not want to be involved in the flirting and bickering between the captain and the vice-captain and become a side dish.

"Well, maybe, but it's still not my fault." Batistuta was lying on the bed receiving a massage on the back of his thighs, his chin resting on the pillow, his phone in his hand, sending messages to something at the same time. Compared to Neymar, he seemed more calm.

"Isn't it?" Neymar asked with wide eyes.

"We just finished the game, and there was a guy in the player tunnel whose back looked very similar to yours. Why should I bother thinking whether it was you?" Batty turned his head and quickly rolled his eyes at him, while continuing to type and send messages without stopping his injured movements.

"No, you're not mistaken. I saw you saw me. You did it on purpose. You kissed that fake guy like a family in front of me, you liar." Neymar's tone gradually became aggressive.

He was a little unhappy, not because he was really angry about the blunder caused by Batistuta, but because he was dissatisfied with Batistuta's current attitude.

"Can't you put your phone down while I'm talking to you about this?" Neymar said as he took out a ball of paper from his pocket and threw it at Batistuta.

"Hey!"

The paper ball hit Batty right on the forehead.

"Oh my god, why do you have to be so childish?" Batty rubbed his forehead and frowned. "How many times do I have to tell you that this was really an accident? Do you think your imitator is better than you?"

He hasn't put his phone down yet.

"Of course not, because I am the real Neymar." Neymar blew hard at Batistuta, then pointed at his face and said, "I'm talking to you. Is there my face on your phone screen?"

"Come on! You have a cell phone too, go play with it." Batty waved his hand like he was shooing away a fly, "I have something important to do."

"Important thing? What is it? Chatting with Kevin De Bruyne?"

Batty stopped typing and gave him a rather contemptuous look: "If you remember, my godfather and godfather are still missing in Rio."

Uh.

Neymar was choked by these words. He turned his head a little uncomfortably and focused his attention back on the leg that was undergoing physical therapy.

Damn it, he thought, the big win over South Korea had almost put it out of his mind.

"Have you contacted him now?" Neymar asked dryly.

"Hmm, I haven't made a complete contact. I only found a few guys on the periphery of the gang. They are not close confidants." Batty said, closing one dialog box and opening another. "Leo just sent me a message. He said Michel (his godfather's assistant) might know something."

Nemar paused: "Leo?"

Batty blew the hair on his forehead and said: "It's not our Leo, it's Leonardo, the one who played in Titanic."

"Oh." Neymar realized that his question was a bit silly, he touched his nose to ease the embarrassment, "So now, who are you talking to, that Michel?"

--Now?
Batty's eyes rolled, and in just a few seconds he came up with a bad idea.

He tilted his head and waved his phone, making up a story: "I'm replying to your imitator's private message. He's quite interesting. Oh, by the way, he also asked for my contact information. Do you think I should give it to him?"

Neymar: …

Still Neymar: "You did it on purpose this time, didn't you?"

"Si." Batistuta admitted without reservation. He propped up his upper body, raised his chin and stretched his back, then smiled lazily at Neymar, "Sometimes I really like the way you are angry with me but can't do anything about it."

Neymar: …

The physical therapists nearby: ...Poof!

……

Finally, the therapy session was over. The therapists, who were fed up with dog food, left the scene quickly and considerately turned off three cameras that were recording the documentary in different locations.

"Look, they run faster than rabbits. Are we monsters?" Batty turned over and sat on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs happily while eating the jelly that Loach had brought him.

Although there is no pudding today, there is raspberry jelly. That was his 'ex'. Before he fell in love with pudding, his favorite was those rose-red jellies.

"We are not (monsters), you are," Neymar complained.

Batty naturally accepted the title of "monster". He slowly put the last bite of jelly into his mouth. Suddenly, another bad idea came to him.

He turned and put the plate down.

"Um, Ney?"

"what happened?"

"Come here for a moment."

"Why, do you want me to get you some more jelly?" Neymar responded while scrolling through his phone. "Don't even think about it. I won't help you."

"No." Batty tried to keep the jelly in his mouth, "Just--come here."

Neymar looked at him suspiciously, then walked over slowly and cautiously, "Are you thinking of doing something evil again..."

He wasn't pranked, he got a raspberry-flavored kiss.

Due to the height difference, Batistuta could only separate Neymar's lips as quickly as possible, and very forcefully stuff the jelly into his mouth before the juice flowed down the corners of their mouths and stained their clothes, and then it was done.

He invited his tongue to dance through the slightly cool and soft gel.

Ended with a kiss.

Batistuta withdrew from Neymar's mouth, and then rolled the fruity thread between them with the tip of his tongue: "How do you feel about using this as an apology?"

"-This is a physiotherapy room." Neymar said in a low voice.

"So?" Batty licked the corner of his mouth frivolously, "Are you scared?"

Scared?
Well, yes, he was afraid that he couldn't control himself and continued here.

"Maybe we should hurry back to our room."

"It's only 10:45 now, and the meeting will start in minutes." Batty looked at him and winked, suggesting, "And we are the last group to do physical therapy. Normally - well..."

Normally no one would come. Neymar knew what he meant.

So he let his kiss fall.

"You're such a jerk."

This was another deliberate seduction.

"Yes, I am." Batistuta put his index finger against Neymar's throat and then lifted his chin up. "So do you want to come with me?"

Neymar didn't say anything. He reached out and pinched the rose-red jelly residue left at the corner of Batistuta's mouth, rubbing it against Batistuta's lips slowly and suggestively. Then he pried open the captain's mouth and put his thumb in.

"Great--" Batty welcomed his finger and treated it like an ice cream.

At the same time, Neymar's other hand was not idle, and he quickly came to Batistuta's knee and separated it from the other one. Compared with kissing, this step is a leap forward.

Batistuta's hand disappeared from the surface, and a moment later Neymar's too.

The therapy room was soon filled with the sounds of joy that they had deliberately suppressed.

after a little while.

"I really hope someone can come." Neymar reluctantly withdrew his hand, then pushed Batistuta's knee and calf together, then moved over and in the blink of an eye pulled him into his arms and fell on the therapy bed.

After all, it is a public place. You can be unrestrained, but not too unrestrained. Operating with your hands is already the limit.

Batty cooperated by hooking his hands around his neck, then brought his fingers together and spread them apart, playfully playing with the residue that was solidifying on them.

"What would you do if someone really came?" he asked.

"Then I won't stop either." Neymar said, close to his lips, "It's a good opportunity to announce our relationship to everyone, and let them see how you make up for it every time you annoy me."

Batty motioned for him to continue.

"Think about it. You are the youngest captain of the Brazilian team. The young players in the team all adore you. But if they knew that while they were watching your videos and learning your skills and judgment, you were hanging on me wantonly and making nice noises, what would they think?"

Neymar is getting better and better at mobilizing emotions.

Batty bit his lip and cried out softly a few times.

“That was really exciting,” he said. “It was like—”

"It's not over yet." Neymar kissed Batistuta's mouth all the way to his ear. "If you provoke me and make me angry again, I will find a little jumping toy for you to eat."

Batty followed him and imagined the scene. "And then?"

"Then - when you are in the limelight on the training ground and everyone's eyes are on you, I will quietly turn up the frequency, and you will be so happy that your legs will go weak in front of everyone." Neymar said the dirty talk he learned from the forum and then processed by himself. It couldn't be more appropriate to play this in a place like the physiotherapy room.

"Maybe you can explain it as feeling unwell, but next time, if you're not prepared, when the frequency reaches its maximum, you won't be able to stand up again," he said.

Batty played out the scene in his mind, and it made his heart beat faster.

"If the power is high enough and you're wet enough, it might slip out and you'll get yourself all over the training ground." Neymar lowered his head and bit the tattoo behind his ear. "Everyone will know that the Brazilian captain is a lustful little—"

Suddenly. [Bati! Ney! Are you in there? ]

"Oh hell!"
“…da puta!”

Paqueta's voice in the corridor outside the door almost scared the two people who were lying on the therapy bed and made them fall down together. Before they could clean up, Paqueta's footsteps sounded like they had reached the door.

At that moment, Batty made his decision.

"quick!"
He quickly turned over and pulled Neymar's arm to make him sit up with his back to the door. Then he lowered his head to find the phone of one of them and held it in his hand as if to take a photo.

【anyone there? 】

‘Click! ’

With the sound of the handle turning, the door was opened and Paqueta appeared. Looking at Neymar sitting on the bed with his back to him and Batistuta standing in front of Neymar with his head down, he showed a puzzled expression.

"What are you doing?" Paqueta asked.

"Hi Pachi." Batistuta greeted naturally, and Neymar did the same, but he didn't dare to turn too far, after all, he had to cover Batistuta's messy pants.

"We are working on the photos, sorry for not getting back to you right away," Batty said.

Paqueta waved his hands to show that he didn't care, and then asked: "What kind of photo takes so long to adjust?"

"Just- you know." Batty raised an eyebrow suggestively at him. "Some Dick pic. He wanted to make it look better."

Hmm? Dick pic? Better?
Neymar gave Batistuta that look where Paqueta couldn't see.

Isn't he good-looking enough?
'It's just an excuse.' Batty responded with a look, 'Don't worry, it looks good and tastes good too.'

This reason was quite clever, Paqueta understood it immediately, and out of some tacit understanding between men he would not think of going over to take a look.

"Do you want to try it too?" Batty asked.

"No, no, no, uh, I forget it." Paqueta stepped back with an awkward smile. He knew that some people had a close relationship with each other and would send each other dick pics to help photoshop the pictures, but he and them were not at that level yet.

In order to quickly skip this topic, he said, "Oh, yes, I came here mainly to tell you that the 11 o'clock meeting was cancelled. Zizu postponed it to the afternoon, so Pigeon and I and everyone else are going to go swimming, and then try water shooting and practice heading. Do you want to join us?"

"Sounds good." Barty raised his chin. "What do you think, Ney?"

"No problem for me." Neymar turned and waved to Paqueta, agreeing to the invitation on behalf of him and Batistuta. "You guys go first. We have some things to do here. Batistuta and I will meet you at the swimming pool after we finish."

Paqueta nodded and quickly fled away.

Batistuta heaved a sigh of relief and sat down next to Neymar. "See, what drives away and scares away a man is always another man's dick." He said, "I remember using this method to help Qiaolin solve a lot of private message problems a few years ago."

Neymar was amused by his statement.

"Maybe we should go back to the room now. It's-" He checked the time, "10:35. Counting the time we were late, we still have about 40 minutes."

"That's enough." Batty jumped off the bed and stretched. "If you last longer, we can even do it twice."

The little bastard was provoking him again.

Neymar pushed Batistuta out of the physiotherapy room, and the two of them ran back to the room, joking all the way. In the elevator, Neymar saw through the camera that there was a red spot on Batistuta's neck that he had bitten himself. He thought, later he would make countless of these things on him, and then let him see what true durability is.

……

After returning to the room, the two of them did not hesitate and almost immediately rolled into a ball on the carpet beside the bed. They were already excited enough in the physical therapy room just now, and did not need more opening warm-up.

"You go up there." Batistuta asked Neymar to sit down in front of him. After refusing the pillow handed to him, he slowly squatted down. Soon, the ends of his blue hair were lower than Neymar's knees.

The whole process of looking down at the blue-eyed master concentrating on serving is the most brain-exploding.

He will stare at you, making you feel that you are always in those smiling eyes, and then he will slowly free your emotions suppressed by reason without using his hands.

"Remember, you told me before that you had a strong vomiting reflex." Neymar put his hand around Batistuta's head and gently combed his hair.

The next second, Batty's throat trembled.

"Look, it turns out you don't have any vomiting reaction at all." Neymar twirled his reddened eye with his thumb, "It's delicious. We're running low on lotion."

Batty felt his warmth and raised his eyes to silently accuse him.

A few minutes later.

"Ahem - have you never been fucked before or what? You're freaking out." Batty wiped the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand and complained. His voice had obviously become much hoarse. "How do you want me to explain now? Did you catch a cold because of the too strong air conditioning?"

"I'm sorry, you know I didn't mean it." Neymar apologized insincerely. He did it on purpose. He just wanted to hear Batistuta shouting in a hoarse voice.

This thought quickly cheered him up.

"What do you think about us going to the window later?" Neymar held Batistuta's face and asked, "I'm going to put you against the glass. Do you think the people on the other side can see you?"

"Why, you still care about Kevin?" Batty raised his eyes and looked at him.

"No, I just want to thank him. He helped a lot when you broke down the other day." Neymar said cheerfully, "Maybe we can call him and invite him to join (watch) remotely. Isn't this a good idea?"

Batty raised the corners of his mouth.

He liked the idea and was looking forward to Kevin's expression, but he had just played this game with him in May this year, and the person on the other end of the phone was Courtois.

"Maybe we switch." Batistuta guided Neymar to the other side. He had served enough today and it was time to enjoy himself. "We——"

At this time.

【Bang bang! 】

"Buddy, Buddy! It's Michel's phone call!" Loach's voice rang in the corridor, "He has something to tell you about Dudu and the hound."

Upon hearing this, Batty immediately jumped down and opened the door.

Neymar lay on the bed, staring at the chandelier on the ceiling helplessly. The series of events that had just happened reminded him of what happened before they were together.

It was the same back then.

Every time he tried to go further someone would interrupt them.

Oh, it’s terrible.

Neymar pulled the pillow over and imagined that he was hugging Batistuta, praying in his heart that Michel on the phone must have good news, otherwise even if he finished speaking quickly, Batistuta would no longer be in the mood.

……

Here, Batty just put on his pants and went to answer the phone. On the phone, he learned a shocking news.

The bloodhound incident was most likely caused by Lucy.

Yes, it was that always dignified and elegant black-haired man, his lawyer, his godfather’s financial advisor, Lucy.

"I, I don't understand." Batty clenched his phone. "What good will this do him?"

"You don't need to understand him. No one knows what that guy is thinking." Michelle was quite disdainful of Lucy's attitude. "The only reason Lucy followed your godfather was to make him sad, and your godfather knew it very well."
After a pause, he added, "I assume your godfather told you that it was Lucie who did the slander of manipulating the stock market and molesting a minor (Edward Furlong) that caused him to do so."

"What?" Batty knew nothing about this, his eyes widened, "You said that Lucy did it? Then why did Dudu keep him around?"

"-The relationship between the three of us is very complicated, much more complicated than you can imagine." Michelle obviously didn't want to explain this to Batty, he stroked his long light hair and said.

In terms of appearance, he and Lucy are completely opposite. Lucy always wears black tailored suits, has black hair, black eyes, and sometimes black gloves. Michel often appears in white, with white clothes and white hair. Some people say that he is Edmundo's cousin, and Batty thinks this makes sense.

"Anyway, you have to be careful. I can't help you. You've left a big mess in the United States." Michelle said, "Now he is trapped in Rio by Lucy. The next step is-"

Batty became nervous: "You mean he and Delain will be in danger?"

"No, they are safe. Lucy prefers to see your godfather suffer psychological damage." Michelle pinched her brows and explained, "I am here to remind you today that the focus is on you. Everyone wants to see you bring the World Cup back, so Lucy will try every means to stop you and make you suffer as much as possible in the process. You have no idea how anxious your godfather was when he saw your collapse a few days ago."

This made Batty both happy and sad.

The good thing is that he is really important to his godfather, but the sad thing is that he is so important that he has become his weak point.

"Don't worry, I will take good care of myself," Batty promised.

as well as--

He would bring the gold cup back, he promised.

……

Neymar waited until he was almost asleep before Batistuta finished explaining things to Loach and went back. After entering the room, Neymar immediately looked over, and then he found with a little regret that Batistuta looked a little bad.

"Good news or bad news?" he asked cautiously.

"Neither good nor bad news." Batistuta answered vaguely with his mouth puffed out like a goldfish. After that, he threw the pillow in Neymar's arms away and squeezed in, then buried his head in the other's chest to feel Neymar's warmth and heartbeat.

Neymar hugged him tightly and patted his back to comfort him.

"I need you now, more than ever." Barty nuzzled him and muttered, "Just hold me like this for a while, I...Ney?"

But even as he was speaking, he felt something becoming more alert at an alarming rate, to a degree that he could not ignore.

Batistuta rested his chin on Neymar's chest and squinted at him.

"Uh-" Neymar looked at himself, still hoping to go back to before answering the phone, "Sorry, he and I both really like you."

Tsk.
What a nice, warm atmosphere.

Batty rolled his eyes at him: "I'm not in the mood right now, I just want a hug."

"But--"

"If you force me to do that, I'll cut it off for you."

“…You’re so mean.”

"Really? I'll go find someone else then." Batty was about to get up. "It's just a hug anyway, anyone can come. I don't ask for much, just don't get angry with me."

"Don't do this, Batistuta!" Neymar reached out and pulled him back, then took a deep breath, "Let me try, let me try, believe me, I can do it."

……

In the end, he continued the activities he was doing before being interrupted. After all, holding back for too long is not good for the body. And Batty, well, he wanted more than just a hug.

(End of this chapter)