Summertown High (3/?)
Title: Summerstown high (3/?)
Characters: John Terry, Frank Lampard, Carlo Cudicini, Petr Cech, Joe Cole
Word count: 1,767
Disclaimer: The school doesn’t exist, nor are these people teachers, all lieeees
Summary: AU where the boys are teachers in South London high schools.
A/n: Previous parts one and two, feedback is loved =D
Hallstand? No. Pockets? No. Table? No. Back of sofa? No. Damn it where were the buggers?
“JOEY, JOEY” he hollered, he didn’t care if the lazy sod was still asleep, last night he’d borrowed his car and now, surprise, surprise, he couldn’t find the keys. He burst into the bedroom “Joey where the hell is my keys?” Joey blinked at his intruder as his eyes adjusted to the light and then burrowed his head under the duvet, “I kinda crashed the car, it’s at the garage” he mumbled, barely audible as his voice was muffled by the duvet. “Mio Dio!” Carlo almost shouted but instead sighed and ran his hand over his face, typical, typical Joey! “Joey, for fucks sake, tell me next time, no forget it, there won’t be a next time you’re never borrowing my fucking car again!” He slammed the door and stormed out, he have to walk instead, but as he opened the door to find the weather less than pleasant, he sighed and grabbed his umbrella, today was going to be one of those days.
* * *
The windscreen wipers ran back and forwards frantically as Frank edged forward in the traffic. 7.44, he had 6 minutes until he had to be there, he knew john would be late out, but Frank still wanted to be on time, of course it was in his nature to be punctual but the main reason was he enjoyed poking fun at John’s inability to get ready on time. He’d been driving him to work for over a month now and he honestly didn’t think that he’d once been on time; he knew one day it would make them late to work, but he didn’t care. The 20 minutes of the drive to work was so worth any ramifications of them ever being late. 20 minutes a day where he could be himself, where he could relax and truly have a good time, he hadn’t met anyone as amazing at John in a long time. He had never met anyone who he felt so at home with. He turned off the main road and into John’s street and pulled up outside number 26.
* * *
The November rain was hard and relentless, it continued to hammer down as Carlo made his way along the street. It was times like this when he really missed Italy, its sunny and warm weather. In Italy, his flatmate wouldn’t crash his car the day before the worst storm of the year so far, In Italy, there wouldn’t be a storm like this, he’d had enough of miserable bloody English weather and in Italy, his umbrella wouldn’t blow inside out, for the third. Fucking. Time. He sighed, that was the last straw, he chucked the umbrella away, no that it was much use anyway.
Reaching the bus stop, he decided someone up there really hated him, 17 minutes until the next 493, and even then traffic would be murder, he didn’t fancy sitting on a crowded bus in traffic.
It was when he had to jump back 5m to avoid being drenched as a car sped past, that he decided to turn back, pull a sickie, he knew it was wrong and unprofessional, yadda yadda yadda, but right now he didn’t care, all he wanted was to be warm and dry and out of this bloody rain.
However he’d hardly taken 10 steps when a car pulled up beside him. As the window scrolled down, he heard the voice he least suspected
“Lost? School is this way, no?”
Smiling grateful, unable to hide his joy, Carlo climbed into the Czech’s car.
* * *
He darted around grabbing random objects from around the place and stuffing things into his bag. Keys, wallet, mobile. The car outside honked again, for the fourth time, not that he was counting or anything. He dashed back to his bedroom to get his jacket and finally he made it out of the house, just as the horn sounded for the fifth time. Jeez, his neighbours must love him for this commotion every morning. He sprinted the short distance to the car, still managing to get soaked, before he climbed into the passenger seating, grinning at Frank.
“5 beeps, must be a record, normally I get to at least 7 or 8 before you surface.” Frank chuckled as he sped off, making up for lost time.
“Well if you weren’t so bloody punctual, I wouldn’t be late would I? Betcha never thought of that did ya?” Frank caught John’s wink before turning back to the road. He knew John was smiling, knew form the way he was breathing, from the general presence he was giving off, subtle things , things that normally only Frank noticed. He shook his head to clear it, now was not the time to be thinking about his workmate, now was the time to concentrate on driving.
“Shit!” Frank jumped at John’s sudden outburst,
“Jeez mate, not when I’m driving! Trying to send us into a bus shelter or something?”
John apologised sheepishly, “sorry mate, it’s just that I forgot my...”
“Lunch?” Frank finished for him as he swung into the last parking space, “Well good thing I made extra then”
John’s head shot round, eyebrow raised, an incredulous look on his face, “How did ya know?”
“It’s a Wednesday, you always forget on a Wednesday...” Frank trailed off embarrassed, whilst John was once again surprised at his unceasing ability to simply read him like an open book.
Frank reached into his bag on the backseat and pulled out a perfectly made packed lunch. As the food was passed from one to the other, their hands brushed and their eyes met, John could have sworn he saw something in his eyes, felt something in his touch, but no, he looked away and pulled himself together. He left Frank’s car more abruptly than anticipated, No, he wouldn’t let himself slide down that slope.
* * *
They drove in awkward silence, neither man sure what to say, neither wanting to be the first to say what they were both thinking. As much as they were trying to hide it, they were both thinking about that night.
He’d been out with Joey and John again, he’d had too much to drink, again, and Joey had buggered off with some bird, leaving him to make his own way home. Again. He stumbled along the road before turning into the dimly lit alley, round the back of the houses. He heard a noise behind him, he stopped listened, nothing. He carried on fear slowly creeping into his veins. Leaves rustled behind him, and hand grabbed his arm. He spun around, arm raised, but as he brought his fist down, a strong palm stopped him. Carlo waited for the blow, but when he looked up instead of a mugger, he looked in the face of Petr. “Carlo, what the fuck are you doing?”
“petr? Sorry...I...I...I thought you were a mugger or something”
“Carlo, you are crazy...oops let me help you” he reached out to stop Carlo from falling as he tripped over some crap or another. “here, take my arm, let me help you” Petr adjusted so he was supporting the older man as the two made their way down the alley together.
In his half asleep, half awake state, Carlo found himself resting his head against Petr’s shoulder, he could smell the smell of pub, but underneath was the sweet smell of Petr’s aftershave, the smell lingering in his nostrils, just as intoxicating as the alcohol. He was slowly nodding off, perfectly content to have Petr’s arms around him, supporting him, and if he was taking the long way home, then who really cared. Petr noticed Carlo getting heavier, as sleep made its way in.
“So where is this flat mate of yours you’re always talking about? Joey? Is that his name?”
“Buggered off with some chick, 2 hours ago I think” He wasn’t too drunk to not notice that Petr had remembered his name, and actually listened to and was interested in what he said. A thought that warmed him from the inside.
“Didn’t find one for yourself then?” Petr joked,
“Nah don’t swing that way if you get what I mean”
Petr tensed and froze and in that split second, Carlo realised what he had said. Shit shit shit. No one at work knew, he didn’t want anyone at work to know, least of all Petr. He’d never been uncomfortable with his sexuality, just telling certain people about it.
“So you’re... you’re gay?” Petr stuttered, too shocked to say anything more coherent.
Carlo broke free and leaned against the wall. Damn alcohol, he knew took it well, as they say ‘in vino veritas’ and that was certainly true for Carlo, once the alcohol went in, the secrets came out. “Yeah and? You have a problem with that?” he didn’t know what approach he was going for, aggressive? Nonchalant? To be honest any impression he gave off was better than revealing the torrent of emotions he felt inside.
“No...I...Just...”Still unable to string a full sentence together.
“Take that as a yes then” Carlo stormed off and broke off into an unsteady run, not turning back, but if he had, he would have seen Petr in hot pursuit. And that night if he’d looked out of his window before turning off the light, he would have seen the tall man still outside, waiting by the light from the streetlamp, waiting on a whim, hoping Carlo would look out and see him and understand. He never did. Reluctantly Petr turned home once he knew Carlo would be well and truly asleep. The scene replayed in his head, yet he substituted his reaction with the million other ways he could have handled the situation better.
They hadn’t spoken since. Almost two weeks now. The break times they’d gotten used to spending together, were now times they felt more distant than ever, Carlo alone in his classroom, marking, keeping himself busy, and Petr reacquainting himself with friends he was slowly losing touch with.
Yet now, here they were, alone in the car, suffice to say you could cut the tension with a knife, and that blade surfaced in the form of Petr’s words “Please we need to talk, I have to explain, tonight? After work? I’ll take you some place where we can talk? Please.”
Carlo looked into his pleading eyes, and found himself unable to say no. He nodded, simultaneously filled with dread and relief.