“Drink,” Kaiser said, sounding far too entertained for someone currently babysitting a drunk person at three in the morning. His hand tilted your chin up impatiently while he held the glass to your mouth, forcing you to take slow sips whether you wanted to or not.

“Slowly. I’m not cleaning vomit out of my apartment because you don’t know your limits.”

There was amusement all over his face. The kind that usually showed up whenever he thought someone was embarrassing themselves.

Which, unfortunately for you, was happening right now.

Kaiser clicked his tongue quietly once he pulled the glass away. “Seriously, what was the plan here?” he asked, setting the cup down on the bedside table. “Going to a club alone is already stupid enough, but getting completely wasted on top of it?”

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I found you before someone worse did.”

The mattress dipped slightly as he sat down on the edge of the bed beside you, one arm resting lazily against his knee. Without all the usual cameras and stadium lights around him, he looked strangely different up close. Less polished. Less untouchable.

You’d never seen him wearing glasses before.

Kaiser noticed you staring almost immediately. Of course he did. His ego was massive enough to notice every glance thrown his way.

“What?” he asked, lifting a brow. “Don’t look so shocked. Even geniuses have eyesight problems sometimes.”

The glasses sat low on his nose, softening his features just enough to feel wrong somehow. This wasn’t the Michael Kaiser people saw on television. Not the striker grinning arrogantly after humiliating defenders on the field. Not the Bastard München superstar with cameras constantly shoved in his face.

This version was quieter. Tired, maybe.

Still arrogant though. Obviously.

Kaiser leaned back slightly, looking down at you with a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “Honestly, this is pathetic,” he said. “One call. That’s all you had to do.”

Despite the words, his fingers brushed absentmindedly through your hair for a brief second before he seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled his hand away again.

“Try not to make this a habit,” he muttered. “I have training tomorrow, you know.”