Fic: sleepless in South Africa
Title: Sleepless in South Africa
Pairing: John Terry/ Frank Lampard
Word count: 970
Disclaimer: All lieeeeeees
Summary: Frank can’t sleep, sorry about the title, i suck at them :(, don't let it put you off!)
He stopped and listened, there was no noise, he poked his head round the corner, all clear. He darted across the empty hotel lobby and slipped out the door into the extensive grounds. The evening was balmy, the suppressive heat during the day had given way and there was a pleasant warmth in the air. He slipped off his flip-flops, conscious of their flapping sound as he walked, and his toes crinkled against the cool tiles paving the way to the pool.
He wasn’t sure where he was going, he wasn’t sure why he’d come out here in the first place, he’d been lying in bed, his mind still too active to sleep and the view from the window had lured him from his bed. He knew he shouldn’t be out at this time, he knew the manager would have his guts for garters if he caught him, but he wasn’t a 6 year old, he was old enough to take care of himself. What difference does it make if he’s getting tense in his room unable to sleep, or trying to relax outside, refresh himself before going back to bed, surely the latter is more advisable.
He found his way over to the pool and settled on one of the plastic chairs. He stretched out, and took a deep breath, he could smell the flowers nearby, he didn’t know what they were, but they had a gentle sweet smell, which added to the calm atmosphere of the night. He wiggled his toes as he stretched his legs, feeling the pleasant ache after a hard training session, a sensation uncomfortable for some, but it was what Frank strived for, it was his motivation for staying out alone for sometimes hours after training until he felt that twinge that told him he was on the brink of going too far. Sometimes John would join in, running beside him, going in goal so he could practise shots, sometimes he would just sit and watch, secretly admired the grace with which Frank moved, and the power contained within each of those thighs.
Frank looked into the water, rippling slightly, illuminated by the lights under the water, casting an enchanting glow into the pool. He thought about the lights, burning electricity, wasting fossil fuels, whilst there was no one there to witness it. He thought about all the lights around the world used in similar ways. Surely there were vast amounts of electricity, money, the earth, that could be saved by switching them off. Thousands of bulbs worldwide, slowly burning unnecessarily through the world’s resources.
He shook his head, now was not the time to think about the many problems of climate change and the burning through of the world’s resources, now was the time let his mind rest, wind down and hopefully go to sleep soon. As wasteful as the lights are, they cast an enticing light through the pool, and he gets up, pads over to the pool and dips his toe in. The water is surprisingly cool, after being warmed by the sun all day. For a moment he contemplates taking off his t-shirt and joggers and diving in, but he stops himself, realising now is not the time or the place, and instead settles for rolling up his trousers and dangling his legs in, sitting on the side. He swirled his feet around, watching as the water rippled away from him, enjoying the swishing sound as he lifted his leg up out of the water, and the droplets cascaded off his calves, dripping back into the pool.
He was suddenly jolted from his thoughts as he heard the sound of someone passing through the doors and footsteps along the paving. Fear coursed through him, he knew being out and about at this time could jeopardise his place on the team if he were to be caught by the manager or one of his team. He thinks about hiding, but he knows it’s too late, so instead he stills, doesn’t dare turn around, skewed logic telling him this way, maybe they won’t see him, feeling like the prey of a snake, knowing its last chance of survival is staying still.
The person stops just behind him and he can hear him crouching down, Frank’s heartbeat quickens, what if it wasn’t the manager, what if it was worse, what if someone had slipped through security and had come to attack him in the middle of the night. But when a pair of strong arms wrap around him and a face buries itself in his neck, kissing the exposed skin, he lets out a sigh of relief and leans into the touch.
“John” he whispers, resting his hands on the forearms wrapped around his waist, fingers dancing along the skin.
John moved until he was sitting beside him, mirroring his actions, letting his bare feet drop into the water. He put his arm around his best friend, as held him close to his side, feeling the older man crying out for reassurance. “Tell me” he whispered, taking the opportunity to plant a kiss on the top of his hair, revelling in the smell and the sensation of the short hair, “what you been thinking about”
And that’s when it all came out, all that had been worrying Frank, all that had been on his mind, his family, the transfer window, penalties, especially penalties. And John, John sat there and listened, listened to everything Frank gave him, holding him tight, letting him know he would protect him through everything, knowing exactly when to comfort him, and exactly when to stay silent and just let him speak.
And later, when Frank had finished,Jjohn took him back to bed, and gave him exactly what he needed, reassuring him from head to toe, and holding him close, ensuring him the best night sleep he’d had in weeks.