fic: Summertown High (4/?)
Title: Summertown High (4/?)
Pairings: Petr Cech/ Carlo Cudicini, John Terry/ Frank Lampard, Joe Cole
Disclaimer: All lieeeeeeeees
Word count: 2,333 (sorry its quite long)
Summary: AU set in South London with the main characters as high school teachers. Petr and Carlo have to sort out the tension and Frank takes John to football training, then onto the pub.
A/n: part 1, part 2, part 3, comments are loved
All day Petr couldn’t concentrate, he kept thinking about the evening, what he was going to say to Carlo. What if he had the wrong idea? He had said he was gay, but he didn’t say exactly what Petr wanted to hear, what if he had the wrong end of the stick, after all, being gay doesn’t automatically mean you fancy every guy you see. He rubbed his temples to clear his head, all this thinking wasn’t good for his head ache, or concentration for that matter, only 5 minutes ago, he had to be corrected by an 11 year old on his basic multiplication skills. He made himself a promise, he wouldn’t think about it, him, until the end of the day, and then he’d, he’d just go with his instincts, no use trying to plan anything now.... Easier said than done.
* * *
After a good strong coffee, his nerves had calmed considerably and likewise his mood had definitely improved to say the least. He had reached a decision, well for the moment at least. Petr wanted to talk, and that could only be good, or at least it was better than at the moment. He walked into class with a bounce in his step; today was going to be a good day, and nothing, not even 10C with their chronic inability to pay attention, do work or shut up could ruin his good mood. OK so those cocky students might dampen it a bit, OK a lot, but still
* * *
“And you’re sure they’ll like me?”
“Jeez JT? What are you? Some teenage girl? Stop worrying, it’s just a bunch of my mates, if you can kick a ball, you’re pretty much in”
John relaxed, but only a little. “So how serious are you guys?”
Frank entered the park, holding the gate open for John to follow, then waved to a group of lads, roughly his age, “Not very, have a kick about once a week and a match every Sunday,” he noticed John was still nervous, he smiled and shook his head, putting a reassuring hand on John’s arm, “John you’ll be fine, they’ll love you as much as I do.”
John made a distinct effort not to notice the word love yeah yeah, he knew he didn’t mean it in a love love way, but a man can dream... He was pulled out of his thoughts by a barrage of pats on the back and handshakes from all Frank’s mates, one by one Frank introduced him to them. He stood there, embarrassed, feeling like a teenage girl, God he hated the effect Frank had on him sometimes. He scuffed his feet, as he looked up at the faces around him, Frank’s friends. He was so irrationally nervous, God he knew a hundred other lads his age, but somehow the fact they were Frank’s made him yearn for acceptance, desperate to create a good impression. God he really was a teenage girl.
Suddenly a voice took him by surprise “JT?!” he knew that voice... he spun around to find Joe standing behind him, next to Frank.
“You’re the...you work... Frank... it all makes sense now!” John glared at him warningly, in a drunken situation he very possibly might have told Joe things he would particularly not like repeated in front of Frank. Like the fact he was head over heels crazy about him. But despite Joey not being the sharpest tool in the shed, he did have tact and just winked at John, before kneeling down to tie his laces, reassuring John that he would say no more.
Everyone set about setting up their pitch, normally used for children’s’ afterschool clubs, discussing their plan of action to prepare themselves for the game on Sunday. John just stood there rather helplessly, feeling awkward and in the way. Joe came over and clapped John on the shoulder,
“Relax mate, you’re as tense as a, oh I dunno tense thing. If you have one talent that could impress anyone, it’s your footie skills, Frank will be yours before you know it” he winked again, John nudged him irritated, “Shut up,” he hissed, “anyone could hear you!” Joe just laughed at the older man, he knew he was teasing him, touching a slightly sensitive point, but he was certain no one could hear.
“How comes you never told me and Carlo you were part of a team then?” John inquired, partly to change the subject, but also partly hurt his mate had kept this from him, despite knowing his passion for the game.
“Don’t take it personally mate,” Joe said, his cheeriness hiding the guilt creeping in, “But y’know, I wanted something for myself without you two for once, if you get what I mean, like no offence, and like well you know how good you two are, I didn’t want you two coming in and stealing my limelight or booting me off the team”
“That good is he?” John jumped as Frank spoke, he hadn’t even noticed him come over,
“Yeah, could probably be pro if he wanted, best centre back I’ve ever played with”
John blushed as Frank looked him up and down, sizing his ability before he’d seen him play, “Come on then, let’s get started, put Joey’s theory to the test!”
Relieved to get himself out of the awkward situation, John was only too happy to start playing. Football was like a drug to him, he never felt more at home than on some grass with a ball at his feet, anything could happen and he wouldn’t care. The other advantage was he knew he was good at it, and as he executed a near perfect tackle, before a spot on pass into the box, he could feel Frank staring at him, almost in awe, eyes wide, he clearly approved. And though this would normally send him into teenage girl mood, he kept his head high, his mind clear and his confidence shone through.
* * *
If the drive that morning had been tense, there were no words to describe the atmosphere now, both men sat there, bolt upright, on the edge of the sofa, not quite facing each other. Petr rubbed his face and sighed, he might as well bite the bullet, this had been his idea after all. Yet when he opened his mouth to speak all that came out was a strangled,
“Drink?”
Carlo was regretting this already, it clearly wasn’t going to go anywhere, he wanted to get up and walk out, but instead he found himself nodding, “Coffee please”
Petr walked out and through to the kitchen, leaving Carlo sitting and twiddling his thumbs. He looked at the room around him, it was fairly common looking, a sofa, comfy chair, a large TV, wii all the stuff you'd expect. Taking centre piece on the wall behind him was a large picture of a sunset over a southern Asian river, he found himself mesmerised by this photo, studied all the details, he'd never been one for studying art, but there was something about the way the modern towns contrasted the traditional fishing boats, and how the water seemed to shimmer magnificently, that he found he couldn't tear his eyes away from.
Petr came back in carrying two Chelsea mugs, "Sorry about the mugs, the rest are dirty, hope you're not an Arsenal fan..." He joked.
Carlo half smiled, "It's OK, I'm quite a big fan myself actually"
"Really?" Petr perked up, "I'm saving up for a season ticket, I went to the last game you know, the Bolton one, I thought..."
Carlo cut him off, as much as he would usually love to sit and talk to Petr, or anyone for that matter, about football for hours, there was something more important that needed to be addressed. "Look, Petr, you didn't bring me here to talk about football" he didn't want to sound rude, but he honestly wanted to get to the bottom of this, because if Petr still had a problem, he didn't want to waste his time round here.
Petr took a deep breath, and looked down into the mug cradled in his hands, swirling the liquid content gently. “You’re right” He sighed, “I just wanted to...well basically...the thing is... well you know the other night? I just, I think I gave off the wrong impression” he looked up nervously to see Carlo’s reaction, but he wasn’t giving anything away, so he continued, “I never meant you to think I had a problem, because I don’t, I really don’t, I was just shocked you know, and I never thought, you know?” Carlo had lost his impatient demeanour and had shuffled subtly closer along the sofa. Petr continued, looking back down into the safety of the brown liquid swirling in his mug, ‘It’s now or never’ he told himself, ‘just get it over with’ He met Carlo’s eyes, so that he’d know he meant every word he said, “The thing is, when you imagine something, for so long, if it happens, you never believe it, you think someone’s pulling your legs, you see, I...” he looked back down embarrassed, “I’m well, not really a ladies man myself, and I never thought, I mean I was shocked, but in the best way...”
Carlo’s head shot up, that was totally not what he expected to hear,
“You mean to say...?”
“well, yeah I’m... I’m gay too and well, yeah...”
Carlo really didn’t know what to say, so he just sat there, until Petr spoke again, unsure whether he preferred the awkward silence or the earlier tension.
Petr decided he had little more to lose, so went ahead, with the question that had been spinning around his head for so long, desperate to be released. “I was wondering, well hoping, ah shit I'm no good at this... you wouldn’t by any chance want to... you know?”
Carlo had come to sit next to Petr, he put his hand on Petr’s knee, to stop it shaking, one of his prevalent nervous habits. “Petr, I’d love to” They sat there, searching each others’ eyes before tentatively bringing their lips together for the first time.
* * *
John had never been to this pub before, hardly surprising, there were a lot of places round here he’d never been in the few months since he’d moved from North to South, but clearly Frank, Joey and their teammates were regulars and they invited him to the traditional post-training drinks.
A few drinks later (blimey this place was cheap, John made a note to tell Carlo) John found himself, Joey and Frank alone at a table in the corner.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us or that you managed to keep it secret for so long!”
Joe sighed, God John was such a woman when drinking, he rolled his eyes and declared he was off to find better company and he rose unsteadily and meandered ungracefully over to the bar where a group of the other lads were. Alone now, and considerably more wasted than they should be on a school night, Frank rested his head on John’s shoulder
“If we’re going down the road of who’s not told who what, you kept your skills pretty hush hush!” Frank slurred, poking John to emphasise his point. The younger man made a point of rubbing the spot, chuckling, before replying
“Ahh I’m a man of many secret hidden talents,” he winked, “besides, you’re not so bad yourself you know” He turned to look at Frank, who twisted to meet his gaze,
“Really? You think” He blushed, trying to hide his nervous excitement.
“Course mate, some pretty accurate passes and shots there! And naturally you have great power from these big beefy babies” John’s hand was squeezing Frank’s thigh, accentuating his compliment, feeling the thick muscle he had been thinking about ever since seeing Frank in his rather short shorts. His fingers were kneading and massaging the flesh. He loved the way the muscle gave under his fingers, but only slightly. Suddenly he realised what he was actually doing, too late, as always seemed the way with him. This could very easily be seen as him fondling his colleague inappropriately.
He winced as he slowly lifted his head to establish Frank’s reaction, expecting the worse, yet the worst was not what he found, not by any stretch of the imagination. Frank’s head was tilted back, resting against the wall behind him, a serene look on his face, his sheer beauty causing John’s heart to skip a few beats. Noticing the stilling of John’s hand, Frank opened his eyes and focused on John with a look that made John’s heart beat twice the normal rate.
“Don’t stop” He whispered, obligingly, John continued, only too happy to have the sensation of his thighs under his fingers again, too drunk to even attempt to make sense of what was happening, all the time not daring to break the eye contact he shared with Frank. Their connection was so intense, they were trapped, everything else around them whittled into oblivion.
They didn’t know who started the movement, but it didn’t matter, here they were, faces inches apart. John could feel frank’s soft breath tickling his lips. He struggled to keep his eyes open, he didn’t want to miss a second of this magical moment. They moved closer still, about to connect when,
“’Nother drink lads?” A hand clasped john’s shoulder and a voice came out of nowhere, causing both men to jump a foot apart. Frank was blushing furiously,
“I...er...no...I’d better go” He stood up, flustered and quickly gathered his coat and headed for the door, tripping over his feet in the rush as he went. John banged his head against the solid wall, cursing madly to himself at the interruption, he put his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands,
“Get me the strongest thing they have”