Archive of Our Own

"Oli!" A familiar voice called out his name.

Olivier turned his head to see Mikel Arteta in the distance jogging comfortably towards him. A shiny golden medal was draped around his neck, a symbol of the match they had just played. Victory looked good on Mikel, as it always did and as it always had. Despite himself, and despite his own team's circumstances, Olivier felt his face breaking into a smile.

"Hi, mate," Olivier greeted as Mikel finally approached him. Unsure about the regulations for social distancing, he extended his hand, which Mikel took only to end up sweeping him into a hug regardless. Olivier couldn't help but laugh, and wrapped his arms around the other man. They separated after a moment, Mikel putting his hands in his pockets.

"I wanted to win," Olivier said, "but I have to say congratulations."

Transferring between clubs, even those thought to be rivals, was a relatively common occurrence in modern football. Olivier was now contracted at Chelsea, which meant he was to give it all for a different badge and a different set of players, but that did not mean he couldn't retain the relationships he had formed previously. And Mikel... he had been an important one.

He still remembered those first few months, when Mikel had publicly defended him after a relatively difficult start to his Arsenal career. When he had in turn defended Mikel after a crucial penalty miss. Those first few months, as they got to know each other: doing drills together and hanging around each other during training sessions, inevitably ending with Mikel rambling endlessly about tactics and Olivier trying to pretend like he understood half of what he was saying. Yet he would listen in appreciation anyway, having always gotten the feeling that it was something Mikel was truly passionate about. When Mikel had retired and chosen to join the coaching staff at Manchester City, Olivier knew that one day he would become a successful coach in his own right. And it seemed, after all these years, that he had been proven correct.

"Thank you," Mikel responded gracefully, but his satisfied smile was ever-present. "I was hoping you wouldn't score."

Olivier let out a soft chuckle. The effect of Mikel's happiness was putting him in a good mood even after the loss. "Yes, unfortunately it didn't happen, but you know I wouldn't celebrate."

Mikel made a soft noise of affirmation. Olivier knew that Mikel understood why he had decided to leave Arsenal for the sake of his career — after all, Mikel had done the same.

"Do you remember that year when we won it?" Mikel asked.

Of course he did. It was the historic moment that had ended their nine-year trophy drought. He remembered, at the full-time whistle, the way Mikel had jumped into his arms. He remembered the feeling of Mikel's legs wrapped around his hips, face buried in his neck. He remembered the lifting of the trophy for the ceremony, and then the open-top bus parade around the city. He remembered how happy he was — how happy they all had been — through it all. Winning a trophy was always a feeling he would never forget.

"Yeah, it was a good time, huh?" he said. He wasn't thinking only of that trophy, but all their years and time spent together. Mikel hummed in response but then fell silent, and Olivier had the impression that he, too, was reminiscing on the past.

It had been just about four years since Mikel had made his final decision to join Manchester City, but over five since Olivier had first been aware of the possibility of him leaving. They had spent four seasons together in total. Upon first joining Arsenal, Olivier had been the type to be outgoing and friendly towards everyone, whereas Mikel had initially seemed more reserved and detached towards others. However, he had quickly learned that that was not the full story.

While Mikel was professional about football, he also liked the occasional joke. He was extremely passionate, even if it did not always show through his actions or words. Mikel always strived for the benefit and the improvement of the team, and the things he said always had everyone's best interest in mind. Olivier had great respect for his mindset, and they had grown close as a result. Close enough that in training, if Mikel was not hounding the staff for tactical videos, they were inevitably by each other's side. Even off the pitch, they often chose to room together on away nights, leading to some later nights than were probably advisable.

During their time together, Olivier and Mikel had never explicitly outlined the details of their relationship and what it was; they only mutually understood what it was not. They both had their own individual families, and understood the importance of separating work from their personal lives. Furthermore, despite Mikel's penchant for routines, things in football could be unpredictable. They had been aware enough to not place themselves in a situation that could be easily destroyed if something were to happen.

However, that did not stop them from deepening their bond to the extent that they could. When Mikel had told Olivier that he was thinking about retiring and leaving the club, Olivier had felt as if a part of him was also threatening to leave. Though Mikel eventually ended up agreeing to another year-long extension, it had been at that point when he had promised Olivier he would always carry alongside him the memories of them together.

Speaking of which...

"How is Oli?" he asked finally, breaking the thoughtful silence. The smile returned to Mikel's face, and Olivier's heart grew warm.

"He's doing really well," Mikel responded. "He just turned five a few months ago. Obviously now with COVID, school is difficult, but we have to manage..."

Olivier nodded along. It seemed that every family in England, including his, was having these issues.

"Maybe once the restrictions are better, you can come to visit."

He tried to remember the last time he had seen Mikel's youngest son. Perhaps it had been four years ago, at the conclusion of the 2015/16 season. Ever since then, he and Mikel had met each other occasionally, but never for personal or recreational matters. "I don't know if he will remember me," Olivier joked.

Mikel laughed. "Well, this time I will make sure that he remembers."

"You will message me?"

"For sure."

Mikel moved to hug Olivier once more, and Olivier could tell the conversation was drawing to a close. He held Mikel tightly to him as Mikel buried his face in his shoulder, reminiscent of their days together on the pitch.

They separated, eventually. Neither knew exactly how long it had been.

"I'm really happy for you," Olivier said finally, before they began to walk away from each other towards their respective destinations. "I hope you will succeed even more."

"You too," Mikel called out behind him as the distance between them grew. "But with Chelsea, not too much!"

Upon hearing his words, Olivier laughed, so loudly that he was sure Mikel would be able to hear it no matter how far apart they were.