Fic: true colours
Title: True colours
Pairing: John Terry/ Frank Lampard
Word Count: 1,865
Disclaimer: Not true, none of it
Summary: Only John knows how to reassure Frank
A/n: Set after the Manchester city game, last weekend, after Frank’s penalty miss. Please excuse any mistakes, I’m not very good at typing with one hand in a cast :S. Feedback is greatly appreciated
The rest of the team are sitting on the bus, waiting for the long drive home, made all the longer by the loss. A miserable silence hung over the team, everyone thinking of their mistakes, determined to never let it happen again. Everyone was thinking about all the ways they could sort it out in training tomorrow, because that's the team Chelsea is. Lose a game and it’s the manager telling them not to go back out for training the same day, a small measure of their determination. Losing is an opportunity to improve, an opportunity to make mistakes to be corrected, an opportunity to band together and bounce back fighting, stronger than ever before. Not a single player would leave the stadium without an ambition in their mind, a wrong to be set right, and that was the mood radiating from the team. Except, there was one player missing.
John waited there, watching everyone else file past, silent for the moment, personal reflection. Every time a person passed, he looked up to see if it was Frank, hoping it was Frank, but as the bus filled up and everyone waited, ready to go home, John got more and more worried about Frank. He seemed alright after the game, it was a shock that miss, unexpected, out of character, but John knew Frank, he was a big man, he would be OK, he always had been in the past. But... but what if this was it, what if this was the last straw, what if he had finally cracked, the pressure, the loss, finally becoming too much for him. He thought of him, all alone in the changing room, or the shower. He looked at the empty seat beside him and made up his mind.
He excused himself to the manager, who understood. The whole team was waiting for Frank and if anyone were to go and talk to him, naturally it should be John. Funny how even only after a short time, one can understand such long established traditions and ways of the world. It took Ancelotti, only a few weeks, days even maybe to understand, John was Frank, Frank was John, there was an almost cosmic connection between them. Of course he didn't understand the extent of their connection, no one did, but there was a mutual understanding.
The corridors seemed empty, every footstep on the white, white, tiles echoing. There was something eerie about it. John found his way back to the dressing room, taking a deep breath before entering, preparing himself for the worst.
The door creaked as John opened it carefully, poking his head around and spotting Frank, before sliding his body through the small crack, not wanting to disturb the man before him. He looked at him carefully, he cut a sorry sight. He was still in his dirty kit from the game. In his hands he clutched his boots, as if when he let them go he would fall apart. As John crossed the dressing room, he thought about how best to approach the situation. He crouched down in front of Frank, his presence yielding no response from the midfielder, who continued to sit there, staring straight ahead, seemingly void of emotion. John put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed it slightly, reassuringly, before bringing his other hand to Frank’s face, forcing him to look straight at him. When Frank finally met John’s eyes, the look in Frank’s eyes spoke volumes. John hadn’t seen such hollowness, such sorrow or such desperation in them in a long time, not since, well that terrible year.
He couldn’t hold back any more he got up and wrapped Frank in a tight embrace, kissing the top of his head, letting Frank find strength and reassurance against John’s strong body. Frank finally broke, John could feel tears dampening his shirt, which caused him to tighten his grip all the more. Frank rarely cried, a clear sign of weakness, so the times he did, made it so much worse. John knew he wouldn’t take it well, after all it had been 3 years since he last missed. As he’d taken his run up, if asked, John would have bet his house on Frank hammering it in, so whatever he felt after Frank missed, must have been nothing compared to how Frank was feeling inside.
He eventually loosened the grip, and pulled away to look Frank in the eyes again. He gently wiped the tears away from Frank’s eyes, before kissing his eyelids, wanting so badly to take away the pain. “I’m sorry JT”
“Sorry? Don’t be Frank, that’s defeatist talk, you have no reason to be sorry”
“But I...I cost us the game”
“Oh Frankie, don’t think like that, you didn’t. At all” Frank was about to say something, but John cut him off, “Look, there were 10 other players out there who didn’t win, not just you, OK so you missed a penalty, but that’s not what made us lose, what made us lose was all the silly mistakes we made as a team, the underperformance by every single one of us, there is no way that you can say you lost us the game, nor will anyone blame you for it. Look its still before Christmas, OK so we’re going through a rough patch, but that’s natural, we’ll bounce back, we always do. We’ve still got our lead, and just you wait, til we come back smashing our way through every game, and do you know who will be at the front of this comeback? You. ‘Coz that’s the sort of person you are Lampsy, I’ve known you what? 8 years now? And I know that next game, you’ll be there, delivering pinpoint accurate shots in the box, smashing goals into the back of the net, and next time we get a penalty it’ll be you. You and no one else who goes up and takes it, coz you know what? No one else has the balls, it takes a lot of guts to go up there every time, and no one could do it other than you, no one would want to, specially not with your record to compete against. Lampsy you’re our best player, and best motivator, we need you to be you. Don’t be discouraged, we still have plenty of time til we lift the trophy at the end of the season. So how about we got take a shower, then we go to the bus and show those damn haters what you’re made of, show them they can’t pull one over on us, we are still one unit. And let’s go show everyone what you’re really made of, show them your true colours ”
Frank nodded slowly, before standing up and allowing John to lead him to the showers. As John undressed Frank first and them himself, he was aware the whole team would be on the bus waiting, but he didn’t care, they could leave without them for all he cared, all he wanted was to make sure Frank was OK, he wanted to take away the look in his eyes, and restore the life, hope and sparkle that was normally there.
Turning on the shower he stepped under the hot spray for the second time since the match, Frank quickly following suit. John brought Frank close to him and covered his lips with his own. Frank fell into the kiss, opening his mouth to allow John in hot tongues sliding against each other, entwining as one. John pulled back occasionally to nibble at Frank’s lips, causing them to redden and puff up. Frank’s hands felt their way down John’s broad back, before coming to rest and his buttocks, squeezing them and bringing the two of them even closer. Their cocks rubbed together, causing both men to moan at the pleasure, and only then did they realise they were hard, rubbing harder and harder, trying to create as much delicious friction as possible. John couldn’t take any more, he broke the kiss and spun Frank around, he knew Frank needed it as much as him.
He popped a finger inside Frank sliding it in and out a couple of times before, slipping another inside, scissoring them, so as to fully prepare Frank, he knew how large he was. Frank bucked as John’s finger hit the spot right inside him, setting his nerve ends of fire. Soon John thought Frank was ready for the real deal and removed his fingers, Frank sighing at the sudden emptiness. However he soon let out a deep guttural moan as, without warning, John entered Frank's tight hole again, pushing his whole length in. He took a moment to adjust before moving in and out. He threw his head back and rested it against the shower wall as he gained speed, each thrust causing Frank to moan and shiver at the sensations being created inside him. God he was so close to coming, John sensed it and wound his arm around Frank, finding his cock and then finding a rhythm, beautiful synchronised with his ever hardening thrusts. Both men were panting now, anticipating their release.
John was the first to come, he nearly always was, something about his passion and inability to control it. After he filled Frank up with his warm seed, he pulled out quickly, the white liquid dripping from Frank’s hole. He knew it wasn’t long before Frank would climax so he spun Frank around and knelt down, taking Frank in his mouth. He sucked, nibbled and swirled his tongue around its length, and just when Frank felt he couldn’t take anymore, he released, straight into John’s mouth, who gulped him down, not wanting to waste any.
Once he had sucked Frank dry, John stood up and met Frank’s allowing the older man to taste the remnants of himself inside John’s mouth. Both men were hot and sweaty from their make out, the warm water still falling, not helping to cool them down. Even amongst the shower’s steady stream, John could tell Frank was crying again. He cupped Frank’s face in both his hand, pulled back and looked him straight in the eye,
“I love you Frank James Lampard, don’t ever forget that”
Frank nodded, tears still gently falling, “I know, I do, and I’ll be back, I promise, I’ll be bigger, better, faster, stronger, I’ll show them all”
John smiled and stroked Frank’s cheek, just as he did earlier, “That’s my Frankie, those are your true colours, my blue lion heart. Now hurry up, everyone must be wondering where we’ve got too, he slapped Frank’s arse lightly, then left the showers, towelling himself then proceeding to dress. Frank watched him dress in wonderment, he might not say it, might not like to admit it, but honestly he really would be lost without John, his rock, his love, his everything.
As the two of them got on the coach, the whole team breathed a collective sigh of relief. Both men were decidedly more relaxed, more back to their usual self, the team would be just fine. With their captains at their heart, they could be beaten but never defeated.