Sports Players. John Terry/Frank Lampard. 029. Birth
Title: Bed Made for Two
Fandom: Sports Players
Characters: John Terry/Frank Lampard
Prompt: 029. Birth
Word Count: 1,563
Rating PG13
Summary:ohn's waiting for Frank's arrival, but Lamps isnt showing, and its testing JT's patience ;)
My Little Damn Table
~*~
Three hours.
That’s how long he’d been waiting.
Slouched back on the large leather sofa, the black button down shirt he had put on especially began to wrinkle. The bucket of ice which sat to his right, now melted away and all that was left was the popped champagne that lay in its remains. Reaching over he picked the cool bottle out of its cradle and brought it to his lips, the bubbly alcohol sour to his throat. He never cared for champagne; its best use was for spraying in celebration. Yet he’d ordered it especially for him. However, as the time ticked idly by, it was becoming more apparent that he wasn’t going to show. ‘Might as well not let it go to waste’ he thought, as he chugged down on the remainder of the drink.
Nine times he’d called, nine times he got his answering machine, he was pretty sure he was one call away from crazy. Each time he got the same thing, ‘Welcome to the Voicemail service for…’ after hearing that nine times it gets a bit annoying. He couldn’t help the thought that maybe he was purposefully diverting his calls…intentionally avoiding him.
“God I need more drink”
The clock now struck midnight. Another hour passed, another hour of waiting. By now the bottle of champagne lay discarded on the hotel carpet, joined with various ‘miniature’ bottles of spirits that the mini bar provided. John wasn’t drunk however, oh no it took a lot more to get JT plastered, but there was no doubt that the alcohol had affected him.
“What a waste of fucking money!” he spluttered out to the empty suite, not that it caused a huge dent in his wallet, but still, it was the principle. He had gone to all this effort, and when that someone he’d done it for doesn’t even show…well that’s just a fucking piss take. One that John didn’t take too lightly.
Many a times he chased around after Frank, he was, after all, the elder of the two, and in this certain area had far more experience. John didn’t like to think about it. It killed him enough to see him with Elen as it is, but to picture Frank with another man beside himself…it just sickened him.
That’s why he wasn’t going to call him. Nope. Call it too much pride or just plain stubbornness, John refused to cave in and ring him. He wasn’t going to be the sad desperate ‘bit-on-the-side’ who whined down the phone cause he wasn’t getting some. However not even five minutes later he found himself dialling the oh so familiar numbers that he knew off by heart, So much for being one call away from crazy. He cursed himself silently at his weak control, he blamed it on his drunken haze, but deep down he knew; he just couldn’t resist him.
Surprisingly to his ears he heard the stirrings of the ringing tone, and all of a sudden hanging up seemed like a good option. He didn’t actually expect it to ring! He thought it would just go to voicemail again, now he was hoping it had, cause he had no idea what he was going to say to Frank once he…
“Hello”
‘Shit!’ John mouthed.
“Heya Lampsy…Its John. Where are ya?” he managed to get out, suddenly fully regretting calling him, and fully regretting having that much alcohol.
“Oh God mate, I’m sorry we had plans. I forgot to call you. I’m, down the hospital.” Frank spoke quickly, desperate to get the next words out, the beam he had on his face was stretched from ear to ear. Before John could even instigate panic at his lover’s words he was cut off by Lamps’ frantic tone.
“Elen went into labour! I’m a dad!”
A smile soon featured on John’s lips too as he laughed happily at the news, “That’s fucking fantastic Lampsy! Congratulations!”
“Yeah a little girl! She’s so gorgeous JT, mate, tiny as anything, I can’t believe I’m a dad!” his words came out rushed and joyous. The emotions filling his body were so intense, they clouded his mind, and all came flooding out in a jumbled heap.
“What’cha call her?” John asked.
“Luna” he replied simply, the way the name rolled off his tongue effortlessly made his smile broader. “Elen named her, its Spanish apparently means ‘the moon’, kind of appropriate seeing as she was born at night and all.”
“Yeah” John breathed, he didn’t know why, but all of a sudden he was feeling light headed. Frank was a dad.
“Look JT, I gotta make a couple of calls, family and all…”
“Oh yeah, course geezer. No worries.” John blurted out grateful, yet at the same time disappointed that their talk had to be cut short. Although it was always great to hear Frank’s voice, the tension between them, even down the telephone line, could be cut with a knife.
“I’m sorry about tonight…I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.” Lamps asked, his tone apologetic and sincere, yet the faint hint of happiness was still locked in him.
John looked around the hotel suite which still had the bed neatly made, the ivory satin pillows plumped fully atop of it. The sitting area which, by now, had empty bottles strewn everywhere, he looked at the empty ice bucket, and tugged at the black shirt he wore. All especially for Frank. But what was the use of telling him this, when he’d never get to see it?
“Nah mate, nothing special. It’s fine.” John told him assuredly, ‘its fine’ really? Is it?
“Oh good.” Frank smiled relieved on the other end of the line, “I’ll make it up to you” he whispered naughtily, so low that barely JT heard it himself. It was typical of Lamps, just when he was having doubts Frank goes and does that, says those little words, in that sultry tone of his and just makes every query melt away. He laughed slightly, kicking the table leg in front of him aimlessly.
“I’ll see you at training tomorrow?” John asked, resting his elbows on his knees, he cradled his head in his hands, rubbing his temple tiredly.
“Yeah…” Frank spoke softly.
“Well, you better get going huh? Got to tell everyone the good news.” He stated with a false air of cheeriness, he soon realised that the effects of the alcohol were not going the way he intended, instead it was veering him into a rather depressive mood. But he couldn’t leave it like this, Frank, if nothing else, was his best friend, and he was happy for him, “Really mate…congratulations. You’re gonna make a terrific dad.” He told him honestly, swallowing a lump in his throat.
“Cheers JT…bye” he sighed.
Clicking off the phone and throwing it carelessly on the table, John looked around his surroundings once more; his eyes fell on the bed. Meant for two…but for tonight…it wasn’t to be. Pulling himself off the couch, he clambered onto the comfy mattress, and fell back ungracefully, legs and arms sprawled openly. A million and one thoughts were running through his minds…mixture of delight and melancholy contradicting each other. And before he knew it, before he even realised what he was doing, the tears began to fall. He never cried. Only ever on the football pitch, and even then it was a rarity, but lying alone in this massive room, he was weeping. Crying tears of joy for Lampsy, for the amazing gift he’d just been given, a little baby girl. John wasn’t going to lie, he wanted that one day for himself, a girl or a boy, or who knows maybe even both? But now Lamps had that, that person in his life, who would always come first, his baby; and John wasn’t going to begrudge him that. It was just the knowing fact, ploughing away at the back of his mind. That little voice that was telling him suddenly…everything has changed, and he couldn’t help worrying if it was going to be for the worse.
He loved Frank. He was sure of it, and he knew Lamps did too, although the words had never been spoken, it was a silent understanding between them.
And sometimes that’s greater than it ever being said.
The tears continued to fall, tracing his cheeks. He felt selfish. As much as he tried not to, he couldn’t help it, the realisation was dawning on him that their ‘two unit’ had now become a three. And as much as they’d try to deny it, or as much as they’d try to prevent it, it was obvious. That it was different. They were different. They’re relationship was different. Changed. Never to be the same. But as John heard his phone vibrate noisily against the glass table, and as he strode over unsteadily to view its message.
Through his glazed eyes he saw his reassurance. He saw his answer that yes, maybe things would change, but the one thing that wouldn’t is ‘them’ and as easy as they’d fallen, the tears stopped... and typed back his reply. Sending the message brought him serenity and he slept. Slept peacefully in a bed he knew that would not always see these lonely nights.
The bed was made for two.
The sent message lay clear on his phone…
‘I love you too’
~*~
Fandom: Sports Players
Characters: John Terry/Frank Lampard
Prompt: 029. Birth
Word Count: 1,563
Rating PG13
Summary:ohn's waiting for Frank's arrival, but Lamps isnt showing, and its testing JT's patience ;)
My Little Damn Table
~*~
Three hours.
That’s how long he’d been waiting.
Slouched back on the large leather sofa, the black button down shirt he had put on especially began to wrinkle. The bucket of ice which sat to his right, now melted away and all that was left was the popped champagne that lay in its remains. Reaching over he picked the cool bottle out of its cradle and brought it to his lips, the bubbly alcohol sour to his throat. He never cared for champagne; its best use was for spraying in celebration. Yet he’d ordered it especially for him. However, as the time ticked idly by, it was becoming more apparent that he wasn’t going to show. ‘Might as well not let it go to waste’ he thought, as he chugged down on the remainder of the drink.
Nine times he’d called, nine times he got his answering machine, he was pretty sure he was one call away from crazy. Each time he got the same thing, ‘Welcome to the Voicemail service for…’ after hearing that nine times it gets a bit annoying. He couldn’t help the thought that maybe he was purposefully diverting his calls…intentionally avoiding him.
“God I need more drink”
The clock now struck midnight. Another hour passed, another hour of waiting. By now the bottle of champagne lay discarded on the hotel carpet, joined with various ‘miniature’ bottles of spirits that the mini bar provided. John wasn’t drunk however, oh no it took a lot more to get JT plastered, but there was no doubt that the alcohol had affected him.
“What a waste of fucking money!” he spluttered out to the empty suite, not that it caused a huge dent in his wallet, but still, it was the principle. He had gone to all this effort, and when that someone he’d done it for doesn’t even show…well that’s just a fucking piss take. One that John didn’t take too lightly.
Many a times he chased around after Frank, he was, after all, the elder of the two, and in this certain area had far more experience. John didn’t like to think about it. It killed him enough to see him with Elen as it is, but to picture Frank with another man beside himself…it just sickened him.
That’s why he wasn’t going to call him. Nope. Call it too much pride or just plain stubbornness, John refused to cave in and ring him. He wasn’t going to be the sad desperate ‘bit-on-the-side’ who whined down the phone cause he wasn’t getting some. However not even five minutes later he found himself dialling the oh so familiar numbers that he knew off by heart, So much for being one call away from crazy. He cursed himself silently at his weak control, he blamed it on his drunken haze, but deep down he knew; he just couldn’t resist him.
Surprisingly to his ears he heard the stirrings of the ringing tone, and all of a sudden hanging up seemed like a good option. He didn’t actually expect it to ring! He thought it would just go to voicemail again, now he was hoping it had, cause he had no idea what he was going to say to Frank once he…
“Hello”
‘Shit!’ John mouthed.
“Heya Lampsy…Its John. Where are ya?” he managed to get out, suddenly fully regretting calling him, and fully regretting having that much alcohol.
“Oh God mate, I’m sorry we had plans. I forgot to call you. I’m, down the hospital.” Frank spoke quickly, desperate to get the next words out, the beam he had on his face was stretched from ear to ear. Before John could even instigate panic at his lover’s words he was cut off by Lamps’ frantic tone.
“Elen went into labour! I’m a dad!”
A smile soon featured on John’s lips too as he laughed happily at the news, “That’s fucking fantastic Lampsy! Congratulations!”
“Yeah a little girl! She’s so gorgeous JT, mate, tiny as anything, I can’t believe I’m a dad!” his words came out rushed and joyous. The emotions filling his body were so intense, they clouded his mind, and all came flooding out in a jumbled heap.
“What’cha call her?” John asked.
“Luna” he replied simply, the way the name rolled off his tongue effortlessly made his smile broader. “Elen named her, its Spanish apparently means ‘the moon’, kind of appropriate seeing as she was born at night and all.”
“Yeah” John breathed, he didn’t know why, but all of a sudden he was feeling light headed. Frank was a dad.
“Look JT, I gotta make a couple of calls, family and all…”
“Oh yeah, course geezer. No worries.” John blurted out grateful, yet at the same time disappointed that their talk had to be cut short. Although it was always great to hear Frank’s voice, the tension between them, even down the telephone line, could be cut with a knife.
“I’m sorry about tonight…I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.” Lamps asked, his tone apologetic and sincere, yet the faint hint of happiness was still locked in him.
John looked around the hotel suite which still had the bed neatly made, the ivory satin pillows plumped fully atop of it. The sitting area which, by now, had empty bottles strewn everywhere, he looked at the empty ice bucket, and tugged at the black shirt he wore. All especially for Frank. But what was the use of telling him this, when he’d never get to see it?
“Nah mate, nothing special. It’s fine.” John told him assuredly, ‘its fine’ really? Is it?
“Oh good.” Frank smiled relieved on the other end of the line, “I’ll make it up to you” he whispered naughtily, so low that barely JT heard it himself. It was typical of Lamps, just when he was having doubts Frank goes and does that, says those little words, in that sultry tone of his and just makes every query melt away. He laughed slightly, kicking the table leg in front of him aimlessly.
“I’ll see you at training tomorrow?” John asked, resting his elbows on his knees, he cradled his head in his hands, rubbing his temple tiredly.
“Yeah…” Frank spoke softly.
“Well, you better get going huh? Got to tell everyone the good news.” He stated with a false air of cheeriness, he soon realised that the effects of the alcohol were not going the way he intended, instead it was veering him into a rather depressive mood. But he couldn’t leave it like this, Frank, if nothing else, was his best friend, and he was happy for him, “Really mate…congratulations. You’re gonna make a terrific dad.” He told him honestly, swallowing a lump in his throat.
“Cheers JT…bye” he sighed.
Clicking off the phone and throwing it carelessly on the table, John looked around his surroundings once more; his eyes fell on the bed. Meant for two…but for tonight…it wasn’t to be. Pulling himself off the couch, he clambered onto the comfy mattress, and fell back ungracefully, legs and arms sprawled openly. A million and one thoughts were running through his minds…mixture of delight and melancholy contradicting each other. And before he knew it, before he even realised what he was doing, the tears began to fall. He never cried. Only ever on the football pitch, and even then it was a rarity, but lying alone in this massive room, he was weeping. Crying tears of joy for Lampsy, for the amazing gift he’d just been given, a little baby girl. John wasn’t going to lie, he wanted that one day for himself, a girl or a boy, or who knows maybe even both? But now Lamps had that, that person in his life, who would always come first, his baby; and John wasn’t going to begrudge him that. It was just the knowing fact, ploughing away at the back of his mind. That little voice that was telling him suddenly…everything has changed, and he couldn’t help worrying if it was going to be for the worse.
He loved Frank. He was sure of it, and he knew Lamps did too, although the words had never been spoken, it was a silent understanding between them.
And sometimes that’s greater than it ever being said.
The tears continued to fall, tracing his cheeks. He felt selfish. As much as he tried not to, he couldn’t help it, the realisation was dawning on him that their ‘two unit’ had now become a three. And as much as they’d try to deny it, or as much as they’d try to prevent it, it was obvious. That it was different. They were different. They’re relationship was different. Changed. Never to be the same. But as John heard his phone vibrate noisily against the glass table, and as he strode over unsteadily to view its message.
Through his glazed eyes he saw his reassurance. He saw his answer that yes, maybe things would change, but the one thing that wouldn’t is ‘them’ and as easy as they’d fallen, the tears stopped... and typed back his reply. Sending the message brought him serenity and he slept. Slept peacefully in a bed he knew that would not always see these lonely nights.
The bed was made for two.
The sent message lay clear on his phone…
‘I love you too’
~*~