[Football] Bad Boy Batty

"You can't park here. This is a no-parking zone. See, it's clearly written on the sign in front. Roll down your windows, or I'll take forceful measures, right now, quick!"

At first Batistuta didn't move, he watched the fire in De Bruyne's eyes die out little by little.

It was so funny that he couldn't help but curl his lips.

This is the perfect time to play a prank.

Batistuta raised his chin slightly, rubbed the tip of De Bruyne's nose, then suddenly lowered his eyelids, hooked his left canine teeth on his lower lip and then popped out, and finally raised his eyes to look at him again.

An undisguised flirtatious gesture.

Batistuta successfully sensed the heavier breathing of the Belgian midfielder in front of him.

【Bang bang bang】

The annoying knocking on the window came again.

"Please cooperate. Now I need you to get out of the car. I'll say this one last time."

Having successfully pulled off his prank, Batty pushed away the person who was standing close to him without any reluctance. He turned his head and put on his innocent face again.

"I'm sorry, officer," Batty apologized as he pressed the button to lower the window. "I had a little dispute with my teammates."

There was a man standing outside the car, about 30 years old, wearing a black uniform with a horizontal silver reflective strip on his chest and the word "POLICE" printed in the middle.

Obviously, De Bruyne's parking was illegal, which attracted the attention of Manchester traffic police.

After seeing Batty's face clearly, the traffic policeman was stunned for a moment, and then became extremely fanatical -

"Oh my God! It's really you!" His face flushed red, and he immediately grabbed Batistuta's hand that was clinging to the car window with an incredibly strong force. "I never dreamed that, oh, God! Our Brazilian Rose, I was just cursing for missing the game due to being on duty today, and now - God bless! I want to share this moment with my wife!"

Before Batistuta could react, the traffic policeman had already taken out his phone from his pocket, turned over and took a selfie with him. The photo recorded the excited traffic policeman, the somewhat confused Batistuta, and of course De Bruyne with a grumpy face in the car.

But the traffic police didn't care.

"I am a die-hard fan of Manchester City. I was born, grew up, got married and never left here in my life... Yes, except for my honeymoon. My wife is also a Manchester City fan. You know, Batistuta, we also participated in the creation of your song!"

Batistuta didn't expect that he would run into his own fans when he was parking illegally, and they were quite talkative. The traffic police talked to them for almost 10 minutes. Finally, he gave Batistuta a pen and asked him to sign the traffic police's ticket book.

This is the first time I've seen it in the ticket book.

After Batistuta finished signing, he handed the notebook and pen to De Bruyne. Under the expectant eyes of the traffic police, the interrupted Belgian midfielder reluctantly signed his name (deliberately written in a mess)

In the end, the traffic police not only did not give them a ticket, but also escorted them back to Batty's apartment safely.

Of course, in someone's mind, this was tantamount to ruining his chances.

"It's not everyone who gets stopped by the traffic police because they're fans." Batistuta stretched out in the basement garage of the apartment, then he patted De Bruyne on the shoulder and said, "Let's go."

Just as he opened the car door and prepared to get out, De Bruyne quickly unbuckled his seat belt and rushed to the passenger seat. Before the door was fully opened, he crossed Batistuta's hand and grabbed the groove on the door, and closed the door with a "clang".

The sound of the door closing echoed in the underground garage, but it was almost a different world from inside the car.

"Fuck the traffic police." The Belgian midfielder cursed under his breath.

In the not-so-spacious space, the distance between the two of them shortened again, as if everything had returned to the moment when the traffic police had not knocked on their car windows.

Of course, they are not exactly similar.

Because this time Batty didn't want to play with him.

"Stop being grumpy, get up, I want to go to my party."

Batistuta reached out and pushed away De Bruyne's face, unbuckled his seat belt, and pretended to get out of the car. De Bruyne stubbornly refused, so Batistuta increased his strength to push him back into the seat, then forcefully opened the car door and walked out.

"Don't test my patience, Kevin. I can endure it once, twice, or even three times, but some things become boring if you do them too many times." The boy smoothed his messy hair and said to De Bruyne who got out of the car, "This is one of the few moments I can enjoy myself. Don't ruin my mood."

After saying that, Batty turned around and walked towards the elevator without looking back.

However, De Bruyne is not someone who gives up easily. He used the speed of counterattack on the court, chased after Batistuta in two big strides, grabbed Batistuta's wrist, pulled him back and pressed him against the car door.

"You fucking-"

Although De Bruyne used his arm to block the man as he pressed him against the car door, Batistuta still received a blow to his back, which made him feel betrayed.

Yes, betrayal.

As a child who crawled out of the bombardment of the slums, any unauthorized action would be regarded as a threat. If it were in Brazil, and a stranger did this to him, he would not give the other person a chance to explain, but would directly twist his arm.

Batistuta raised his head and glared at De Bruyne fiercely: "I'll give you five seconds."

He will take action in 5 seconds.

"I really, really wanted to do this for a long time." De Bruyne did not explain himself. He repeated what he had just said, "Please, don't refuse me."

"Hiss... you've been thinking about it for a long time, so what?" Everything became clear, the young man said arrogantly, "Just because you want it, do I have to agree? Come on, there are so many people who want it, should I - ugh!"

The Belgian didn't give him a chance to finish his words, he just leaned in and kissed him.

Batty's lips were as soft and moist as he had imagined, and even warmer than in his dream.

Perhaps because it was too sudden, the boy who was kissed forgot to resist for a moment.

"Bati!"

Everything stopped again. Before De Bruyne could pry open Batistuta's teeth with the tip of his tongue, a clear call sounded, and Batistuta quickly regained his senses and pushed De Bruyne away with anger.

The Belgian stumbled two steps and bumped into a car behind him.

He wiped the corner of his mouth and looked up at Batty.

Batty narrowed his eyes and showed his impatience when he showed his canine teeth.

"You're finally back, Batty!" With the sound of footsteps, Loach appeared in front of the two men. The black boy propped himself up on his knees and gasped for breath. "It's almost a mess up there. I don't know how that Augustus got in. Neymar also came with one of his tall teammates. They are simply crazy. They made a mess of everything and insisted that you go back and play some game with them."

Ok?
Batty's attention was successfully drawn away.

Forget about that guy Augustus, he will come to cause trouble anyway. What he cares about more is the "tall teammate of Neymar". Neymar has several tall teammates in Barcelona, ​​such as Gerard Pique and Sergio Busquets.

Judging from his personality, it is more likely to be Pique.

"Let's go up and have a look."

Batistuta completely ignored the unfinished kiss between De Bruyne and him, and brought Loach all the way to the party. Sure enough, he guessed correctly, it was Pique.

The Barcelona defender was confronting Augustus on the table, as if they were playing some party-livening game where the loser had to take off clothes and drink. Batistuta clicked his tongue a few times, then walked around the crowd and went back.

"Don't care?" asked Loach.

"Whatever," Batty said, "as long as they don't break anything, leave them alone."

Loach responded and turned to find the other people who were temporarily called to be in charge to explain the situation. Batistuta looked around and found Neymar in the corner, who was obviously in a bad condition.

They had just reversed the game 6-1 and advanced not long ago, so they should have been excited. How did it become like this now?
Batty couldn't figure it out, so he picked up a cocktail and walked towards him.

"Why are you so upset? Just because I didn't send you good morning and good night messages?" He sat next to Neymar and shook the cocktail glass in front of him. "I turned 18 today. Be happy and wish me a happy birthday."

Hearing Batistuta coming, Neymar raised his head and gave him a forced smile.

"Happy birthday, Buddy," he said. "I'm sorry I showed up like this today. It has nothing to do with you. I don't blame you for suddenly stopping my good mornings and good nights, it's just--"

The Barcelona striker paused for a moment and sighed.

"It was my dad," Neymar said. "People from Paris Saint-Germain went to him and he didn't even consider my opinion. He... I don't know what to say."

Paris Saint-Germain?

What do you mean?
Batistuta raised his eyebrows, he remembered that Neymar's father was also his agent, so it was obvious what the head of a football club other than Barcelona wanted to talk to him about.

"This is a big deal." Batistuta patted Neymar on the shoulder and then stuffed the cocktail in his hand into his hand. "Wait, I'll get two more glasses, and you tell me the whole story."

Nemar paused, then nodded imperceptibly.

Batty quickly squeezed through the crowd. He remembered that there was a bar at the other end of the room with a prepared 'Sunrise' cocktail on it, which was the right drink to drink while listening to stories.

However, at this time, the DJ played a remix of a very popular song this year, and people danced like crazy, and Batty was pushed to the edge.

"What the hell," he cursed under his breath.

Just as Batty stretched his shoulders and prepared to change his route to get the wine, a hand suddenly reached out from behind, grabbed his wrist, and then pulled him behind the curtain.

"Hey--"

The space behind the curtain is not big, but not cramped either, just enough to accommodate two people.

The man who pulled him in had cool palms but hot breath. He did not take the next step, but waited quietly for Batti's eyes to adjust to the darkness.

This didn't take more than a few minutes, and Batty looked over.

De Bruyne's expressionless face appeared in front of him.

"Oh come on!" Batty frowned and waved his hands irritably, "You don't understand rejection or what? You must kiss me tonight?"

De Bruyne didn't expect Batistuta to bring things up, so he opened his mouth and tried to defend himself.

In fact, he didn't come to complete the kiss, he just wanted to -

The next second, something beyond imagination happened. Batty took the initiative to hold his face and kissed him.

The boy's kissing skills were much better than he had imagined. He was not at all the immature boy who needed to be taught as he had imagined. Before he could finish being surprised, Barty bit his lower lip, then took advantage of the moment when he opened his mouth in pain to penetrate his mouth, deepening the kiss rudely and unreasonably.

"That's what you want, right? Here you go." Barty said vaguely during the kiss, "Don't bother me again after we're done."

Uh--

He just wanted to give his gift away.

De Bruyne quietly kicked away the wrapped gift box at his feet, then put his arms around Batistuta's waist and threw himself into the kiss.

Even if this is just to appease him, it is enough.

He still has time, and can...

next second.

"Buddy, are you here?"

(End of this chapter)