The flaws that make us perfect
Title: The flaws that make us perfect
Author: onecasillas
Pairing: John Terry/Frank Lampard
Summary: Nobody’s perfect.
Word count: 627
A/N: I don't know where this came from. It might be full of mistakes, 'cause I don't have time to read it again, sorry.
Nobody’s perfect, John knows that. He’s been hearing it ever since he was a kid, when his mother comforted him after his first friend-less days at school, and when his dad later on confronted him when John got into trouble for picking on other kids. He knows everyone’s different, everyone makes mistakes, and some of them seem bigger when they suddenly become world-wide known.
John hates it. He hates the fact that every single fucking time he screws up, his mistakes become public, as if playing for a big English team entitles everyone else to have an opinion on his private life, to judge him, to hate him, as if they knew anything about what had really happened. As if they knew anything about him.
But not everyone.
No, there’s someone who’s never judged him, who’s always been accepting, forgiving, always there for him. But maybe that’s because John has never opened up that much to anyone else, not even Toni. He’s never trusted anyone that much, has never cared so much about someone to the point of constantly needing them.
There’s something new shining in Frank’s eyes as he looks at him from across the table with a soft smile. The newspaper is laying sprawled between them, John’s picture staring back at them from the centre pages.
“I’m sorry for fucking up so much.”
Frank simply smiles wider. “You shouldn’t be saying that to me.”
“There’s nobody else I’d want to apologize to,” John answers, and his confession makes him feel embarrassed, almost scared.
Frank says nothing and picks up the paper from the table, closes it and tosses is to a side. His eyes bore into John with an intensity that the defender can’t remember ever seeing outside of their bedroom, on those few nights when they allowed themselves to let go and get lost in each other.
John sees Frank’s hand extended towards him, and he places his own on top of it, caressing Frank’s knuckles with his thumb. A comfortable silence settles around them, an invisible bubble that closes them out from the world, that protects them. John is certain that that protection is nothing more than the love they have for each other.
“I’ll change, I promise,” he states in a mumble.
Frank studies him for a few seconds. “And what makes you think I want you to change?”
“I just…” John hangs his head with a sigh, hiding his face from Frank. “I keep fucking up so much, Frank, and I… I know I can’t make you happy if I go on like this.”
Frank processes John’s words for a few seconds. He gets up and walks around the table, then kneels next to the other’s chair, placing both of his hands over John’s knees. With a little nudge, he forces the other to look at him.
“I don’t care what other people say. Nobody knows you like I do, nobody understands you like me, and John, you make me the happiest man on earth, and I wouldn’t change anything about you.” Frank moves one of his hands to cup John’s cheek. “To me, you’re perfect.”
John smiles and drags Frank up to his lap, holding him tight to his chest and running his hands over Frank’s back, neck, arm, hair, anything he can reach. He feels a pair of lips land in the spot behind his ear.
“I love you,” Frank murmurs, and John is quick to return the feeling.
“Fuck, I love you too,” he says, and then, in a second thought, he asks “We’ll be alright, won’t we?”
Frank pulls back from his embrace to look at John straight in the eyes. “Yes, of course we will. I promise.”
John smiles and pulls Frank close to him again.
Author: onecasillas
Pairing: John Terry/Frank Lampard
Summary: Nobody’s perfect.
Word count: 627
A/N: I don't know where this came from. It might be full of mistakes, 'cause I don't have time to read it again, sorry.
Nobody’s perfect, John knows that. He’s been hearing it ever since he was a kid, when his mother comforted him after his first friend-less days at school, and when his dad later on confronted him when John got into trouble for picking on other kids. He knows everyone’s different, everyone makes mistakes, and some of them seem bigger when they suddenly become world-wide known.
John hates it. He hates the fact that every single fucking time he screws up, his mistakes become public, as if playing for a big English team entitles everyone else to have an opinion on his private life, to judge him, to hate him, as if they knew anything about what had really happened. As if they knew anything about him.
But not everyone.
No, there’s someone who’s never judged him, who’s always been accepting, forgiving, always there for him. But maybe that’s because John has never opened up that much to anyone else, not even Toni. He’s never trusted anyone that much, has never cared so much about someone to the point of constantly needing them.
There’s something new shining in Frank’s eyes as he looks at him from across the table with a soft smile. The newspaper is laying sprawled between them, John’s picture staring back at them from the centre pages.
“I’m sorry for fucking up so much.”
Frank simply smiles wider. “You shouldn’t be saying that to me.”
“There’s nobody else I’d want to apologize to,” John answers, and his confession makes him feel embarrassed, almost scared.
Frank says nothing and picks up the paper from the table, closes it and tosses is to a side. His eyes bore into John with an intensity that the defender can’t remember ever seeing outside of their bedroom, on those few nights when they allowed themselves to let go and get lost in each other.
John sees Frank’s hand extended towards him, and he places his own on top of it, caressing Frank’s knuckles with his thumb. A comfortable silence settles around them, an invisible bubble that closes them out from the world, that protects them. John is certain that that protection is nothing more than the love they have for each other.
“I’ll change, I promise,” he states in a mumble.
Frank studies him for a few seconds. “And what makes you think I want you to change?”
“I just…” John hangs his head with a sigh, hiding his face from Frank. “I keep fucking up so much, Frank, and I… I know I can’t make you happy if I go on like this.”
Frank processes John’s words for a few seconds. He gets up and walks around the table, then kneels next to the other’s chair, placing both of his hands over John’s knees. With a little nudge, he forces the other to look at him.
“I don’t care what other people say. Nobody knows you like I do, nobody understands you like me, and John, you make me the happiest man on earth, and I wouldn’t change anything about you.” Frank moves one of his hands to cup John’s cheek. “To me, you’re perfect.”
John smiles and drags Frank up to his lap, holding him tight to his chest and running his hands over Frank’s back, neck, arm, hair, anything he can reach. He feels a pair of lips land in the spot behind his ear.
“I love you,” Frank murmurs, and John is quick to return the feeling.
“Fuck, I love you too,” he says, and then, in a second thought, he asks “We’ll be alright, won’t we?”
Frank pulls back from his embrace to look at John straight in the eyes. “Yes, of course we will. I promise.”
John smiles and pulls Frank close to him again.