ONE SHOT: John scores his first goal in 9 years whilst Jack is at home with Covid (Part two)
Bring it on, Jack thought. But he had something else to look forward to first. With the isolation period over for the Villa squad, John could finally come home.
He went and showered, styled his hair especially for the occasion, and put on his tightest t-shirt and smallest pair of shorts. John'd be fucking knackered and Jack reckoned he wouldn't be lasting any more than ten minutes but as long as they both got off it'd be a good night all round. He settled himself on the bed, put an old episode of Power on, and decided he'd be willing to pay a speeding ticket fine if it meant John got home sooner.
He wasn't too sure what was happening, but Apollo was barking his head off. Fuck's sake. He inched his eyes open and realised he'd fallen asleep, the TV suspended as Netflix asked if he was still watching.
There was shuffling from downstairs and the sound of the back door being opened. He shot up off the bed and hurried downstairs, following the sound of Apollo's barks. A dim glow from the kitchen lights was cast across the floor, and he couldn't remember if he'd left them on.
He rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks. John was stood there with his back to him, his broad shoulders curved and his neck craned forward as he slowly stirred a spoon through his tea. Jack wasn't one to be nostalgic but it suddenly felt like the first time all over again, like he'd come down from his own world to find something new and untouched that sent his heart racing.
"Hi," John called over his shoulder, not needing to turn to know Jack was hanging in the doorway. "Kettle's just boiled, if you want a drink."
Jack could hear the same nervously excited tinge he was feeling in his stomach in John's voice. He didn't know if it was just the temperature of the house but his arms were laced with goosebumps, skin prickled from the cold.
"Na, I'm alright," he told John, who still hadn't turned around. "It's freezing in here, though."
"I just let Apollo back in. Tried to get him in his bed for the night but for some reason he wasn't having it."
Jack stifled a laugh and changed the subject. "It's proper late. How long you been back?"
The question was his way of letting John know he was annoyed at himself for not being up to welcome him home, not because he'd started to wonder if John's muted behaviour was down to him feeling the same.
John shuffled along the length of the kitchen counter and chucked his teaspoon into the sink. He returned to his mug of tea and took a lengthy sip before finally turning to face Jack. A wave of bliss swept over him when their eyes met, his limbs suddenly heavy under the weight of how he felt about the man in front of him.
"Let's just say I've been back long enough to see you passed out on the bed, snoring away," John declared, the corners of his lips sparked. "Couldn't bring myself to wake you up."
They both knew he would've woken Jack the second he got into bed, deliberately as well.
"I just lay down and I was gone. I was ready to give you a proper hero's welcome before I nodded off as well, you know, thought I'd better get the champagne out or something."
"Fireworks in the garden. A congratulations, you've finally scored in the league after nine years card."
"Exactly," he grinned.
