Haphazardly | leon goretzka

Eighteen: I Touched God Himself!

"Baby girl, you're so damn fine though," Leon rubbed his hands together checking Emilia out at every angle. "I wanna know if I can hit it from behind though?"

"Stop staring and get in the damn room, Goretzka," His girlfriend ushered him into her hotel room. "I swear you quote 679 at least once a day. And no, you can't hit it from behind now because we're running very late thanks to you, but maybe if you play your cards right tonight..." She raised an eyebrow at him and in return he winked at her.

"Okay girl, I get what you're dropping," Leon wrapped an arm around her, 'accidentally' dropping his wallet on the ground. He loved the feeling of Emilia pressed to him, and the view was even better when she was bent over in her skin-tight dress picking up his wallet. Emilia knew exactly what he was trying to do however, and decided to play his game. She backed up so she was perfectly even with the front of his jeans, and pressed her ass against his front. Emi knew the effect she was having on him when she heard him inhale sharply.

She turned around standing up, not wanting to start something that they didn't have time to finish. The couple was set to meet the rest of the team at a popular St. Petersburg night club fifteen minutes ago, but it took Leon longer than expected to do his hair perfectly.

It was already 1:30 in the morning and the club closed at four, but Leon was sure they'd just move the party to someone's hotel room then. They weren't stopping this party until everyone was blackout drunk, and couldn't remember any of the festivities from the night before.

"I love your shirt," Emilia smiled up at him, pulling her handsome boyfriend closer to her body. Leon's t-shirt, her favorite part of his outfit tonight was white with a little, contorted Donald Trump on it. He paired it with black jeans and white sneakers, although figured they wouldn't stay white for very long because of the large amounts of rain they had received in the past few hours.

"Aye, well I wouldn't have to wear it if you Americans didn't elect such shitty people," He leaned down, kissing Emi's lips.

"You act like Angela Merkel is so much better." His hands slid down her body before reaching her backside. Leon rested his hands there, squeezing lightly.

"Hands off, Retz," She slapped his chest repeatedly until he shoved them into his pockets. "You don't get any of this until later."

Emilia strutted out the door, her tight black dress clinging to her ass beautifully, and boy, did she know it. The brown haired boy was so busy enjoying watching her walk that he didn't even realize that he wasn't moving until his girlfriend was out of view. With that, he practically sprinted to Emilia, knowing that tonight was going to be fantastic.

∞

"Well look at who finally arrived," Leon's good friend, the Parisian hottie himself, Kevin Trapp announced to the group. The two men bro-hugged before Kevin introduced Emilia to his girlfriend, Izabel.

The two girls talked about for a while before an all-too familiar voice called out to them. "Retz, Emi, come here!"

Emilia said goodbye to Kevin and Izabel before Leon dragged her over to a different table. "Draxler here offered to buy the first round!" Joshua hollered, tousling poor Julian's perfectly-gelled hair.

"Hey, don't touch me, Bayern boy," Julian joked, pretending to square up to his smaller national teammate.

"Max, I think that's an invitation for us Schalke boys then!" The two active Royal Blues rustled their former teammates hair yet again. Luckily for Julian however, their drinks arrived shortly after their attack started.

Each person took two shots of vodka off the tray before Julian stood up to address the group. "I'm honored to have been named captain of this wonderful team and I want to say that I wouldn't have want to achieve the successes that we had with anyone else but all of you. No matter where we may play football during the other parts of the year, we'll always be brothers. Die Mannschaft now and forever!"