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Disclaimer: I do not own Galactik Football and I make no money from this fanfiction.
This one is for indecisive whose birthday it was a while ago now and who prompted Aarch/Artegor and a picture (which I would link here but ff dot net is pretty terrible at links so…yeah). Happy (very late) birthday indecisive! Hope you like it!
The clock was ticking – there were only seconds to go and they were stuck on a draw. Artegor got the ball, sent it flying over to Aarch before the Ryker defender could take it off him. Aarch caught the ball with his foot, sending it shooting off into the goal. The ball went straight into the net, past the Ryker goalie, just moments before the buzzer rang signalling the end of the match. They had won. Aarch pumped his fist in the air, running over to Artegor.
There was a rare smile on Artegor's face – perhaps that had been what had made Aarch do it. He grasped Artegor by the shoulder and pulled him close, intending to go for a hug but somehow managing to pull their faces together instead, their mouths meeting in a propulsive clash. There was a faint taste of Smog as Artegor's tongue flicked up against his and he could feel the heat radiating from the other striker's body. Time seemed frozen, just for them, just for that moment.
There was a sudden rush of sound from the crowd – a cheer? Aarch honestly couldn't tell, he was so lost in the high of the win, shaking with the adrenaline and Smog. He stepped back from Artegor, the moment gone, and followed the rest of the Shadows as they exited the field.
Aarch didn't think much of the fact that Artegor had somehow managed to disappear before the interviewers got there for the post-match chat – it was something he did every so often. Their Coach back at the Akillians often reprimanded him for it but the Shadows didn't really care – they weren't really allowed to talk about training strategies and as fun as winning was, there were limits to how many ways you could gloat about crushing every team that crossed your path.
"Now Aarch, you are just the man we wanted to speak to," the closest interviewer said. "So, after winning the match you celebrated your win in a somewhat unconventional way – you kissed fellow teammate Artegor Nexus. Was this simply a display of exuberance or a more serious declaration of a new relationship?"
"Is this your way of coming out? How would you define your sexual orientation?" the questions came from the other side before he even had a chance to answer the first one.
Aarch shrugged, unsure as to what he should answer first. He was beginning to realise that this was another one of those situations in which he acted without thinking things through – it was a useful enough quality to have on the field when there was no time for considered thought but Aarch had come to realise that, when it came to his personal life, there were often unforeseen consequences.
"I would ask that you not harass my players with irrelevant questions; the only relevant question is whether or not we will be winning our next match and the answer is: yes," Tillis intervened, standing up to usher Aarch and the others away from the cameras. Despite the Coach's words, questions were still being shouted even as they left the press area.
"Was it your intention to attract the attention of everyone in the media? We'll have to set up guards outside the training facility to keep the fools away. What were you thinking with your little stunt?" Coach Tillis hissed, as soon as they were alone.
Aarch felt like pointing out that there were already guards outside the training facility but he doubted that this would go down well so he swallowed the objection. "It was just a spur of the moment thing," he explained, knowing it wouldn't be at all satisfactory to his coach.
"Well next time, try to use your brain," Tillis said in menacing tones that undoubtedly meant that he was going to work Aarch extra hard in training just to punish him.
Sighing, Aarch trudged back to his room, reminding himself that no matter what had happened after; at least they had actually managed to win the match. He'd scored two goals! Tillis couldn't be too mad at him for that. Besides, he hadn't actually done anything wrong. He flopped down onto the bed and resolved to forget about the whole thing – everyone else would in time, he reassured himself.
Aarch reached into his desk and grabbed his personal holo-phone: three missed calls…all from Adium. His stomach plummeted slightly – she'd stopped trying to call him a matter of weeks after he'd left for the Shadows so this really only meant one thing. She'd seen it.
A few button presses revealed that she had left messages too; a new one each time. For Adium that was practically a downward spiral. Wincing, he went into his voicemail to listen to the messages.
Message 1: Hi Aarch, it's Adium – I saw the tape today. So was that for real? Are you and Artegor a thing now? Just curious, I guess.
Message 2: Hey Aarch, sorry about the message before – I know it must be kind of weird to get a message out of the blue like that. We haven't spoken since you left for the Shadows with Artegor…I guess I just didn't realise that when you left me for the Shadows with Artegor you were…well, with Artegor. I'm rambling. Anyways, bye.
Message 3: My apologies for my previous messages; I am not sure what came over me.
The last message was the real kicker – Adium only got formal like that when she felt overwhelmed with emotions. He supposed he knew what she was thinking; she was thinking that he had been cheating on her with Artegor whilst they had been playing for the Akillians. She'd be wrong but there was no way for her to know that. From an outside perspective the pieces fit: he had left so suddenly without a word. He'd left with Artegor.
Just then, Artegor walked into the room, throwing down his towel onto a chair. Instead of launching into his normal routine of spraying his wet hair with all sorts of potions (no matter how many times Artegor tried to explain what they were, Aarch could never quite understand it) before drying it with the hairdryer (on the cold setting – to avoid damage or something along those lines), Artegor just stood there staring at Aarch as though he were going to say something.
"Yes?" Aarch prompted.
"Why did you do that…before?" asked Artegor, his voice filled with a strange caution.
Aarch looked back at him, blankly.
"Why did you kiss me on the field?" Artegor sounded like he was trying to be patient and failing.
Aarch shrugged. "You don't usually need a reason when I kiss you."
Some fleeting emotion passed over Artegor's face though Aarch could not read it. "You don't usually kiss me in front of others…in fact; you rarely make public declarations of any sort."
"It wasn't a declaration," Aarch protested, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Besides, weren't you the one who was always annoyed that my relationship with Adium was public whereas ours' was private?"
"I wasn't jealous," said Artegor, too hastily. He was wearing a proud expression, his chin jutted up and his nose in the air. "I suppose you noticed that the furore over us joining the Shadows had died down and you wanted to do something to get your name in the holo-papers again."
Aarch rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, really? I didn't realise it'd be such a big deal."
"It's not," Artegor said. "I was just wondering."
He walked over to where Aarch was lying and clambered on top of him, leaning down to kiss Aarch with not unwelcome fierceness. Water from Artegor's freshly washed hair was dripping down on Aarch's forehead but somehow Aarch didn't care. They'd won the match and they were together. What more did they need? He pushed the thoughts of the reporters, coach and Adium out of his mind and just let himself melt into Artegor.
Years later…
The holo-phone rang. Artegor leaned over to look at the caller id – ah, Aarch, just on schedule. He let it ring a few more times before picking it up.
"Yes?" he asked, trying not to burst into maniacal laughter.
"Artegor! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"My dear Aarch, I don't know what you're talking about." The urge to cackle was rising in him again but he knew that feigning ignorance would irritate Aarch more.
"Don't play dumb, Artegor – I'm talking about this tell-all book of yours!" Aarch bellowed.
"Oh that, well I didn't think you'd mind." Artegor kept his tone casual. "After all, it was your decision to put our relationship into the public eye."
Aarch sighed deeply. He'd have his head in his hands now, Artegor knew. "That's not the same and you know it. I never said things like: 'Aarch snoring sounds like water running through a blocked drain…'"
Artegor smirked to himself: he'd been quite proud of that passage.
Aarch continued to read. "'Or how about this one: 'Aarch's worst trait by far was his complete inability to be faithful to any team or person. He just floats through life, going wherever the current takes him…'"
"All true," said Artegor.
Aarch groaned loudly before hanging up the phone without another word. Artegor sat back in his chair. He still needed the Shadows to defeat the Snow Kids in next GFC but for now he'd won.
This fic kind of got away from me a bit so I'm not sure if it's what indecisive wanted exactly but hopefully it's not too bad. This is less dark than most of my fics set during Shadows-era (well, less explicitly dark, there's still some dark undertones in there) because I picture this being during the beginning of their time there. Also, I've had the idea that Artegor would write some kind of scathing memoir for a long time (since Peter Mandelson released 'The Third Man' to be honest) but never got around to using it in a fic so I decided to include it here. I should probably also note that I stole my summary for the fic from the Killers' song 'Mr Brightside' because it seemed to fit and I couldn't think of anything better XD Please review; I'd love to hear any feedback!
