When Fools Rush In

Chapter 33 - Sleeping Jack

Lucy rubbed the final streaks of moisturiser into her face as she ambled slowly out of the bathroom, through the dressing area where Jack's hoodies and shirts were hanging, and back into the bedroom. Unsurprisingly, Jack had fallen asleep, spread-eagled across the mattress, the bed covers folded back. He'd fallen asleep actually getting into bed. To Lucy's relief, he'd managed to mostly undress himself, simply wearing his t-shirt and his boxers.

As Lucy edged closer, she smiled. His head was pressed into the gap between the two sets of pillows either side of the bed, his hair comically sticking up. His mouth was very slightly open, almost in a pout, his nostrils slightly flaring as he settled into the slow rhythmic breathing of sleep. She remembered their conversation with John at the dinner table. Of course she stared at him while he was asleep, he looked beautiful.

There were bits of Jack on all four corners of the bed - a hand curled into a soft fist, a foot hanging off the side of the mattress, a hairy knee sticking out. Lucy was going to have to find a way to nudge his heavy limbs out of the way without waking him up. She couldn't wake him up. He looked so peaceful, so angelic.

"Who's a tired boy," she whispered, affectionately. She didn't want to wake him, but neither did she not want to miss the opportunity to whisper sweet nothings to him. This was her first proper night with him again - no estrangement, no hospital bed - their first night back in his bed. Their first opportunity to sleep side by side having declared love for one another. Not quite the night she imagined though, with Jack's sore abdomen covered in dressings, his exhaustion from the last few days evident.

She bent over the side of the bed and gently grasped the bottom of his leg that was sticking out. It was hard to resist gently stroking his soft skin, brushing her fingers over the fuzziness of his hairs, feeling his warmth radiating through her hand. Gingerly, she manoeuvred his leg across the bed, astounded by the weight just in one calf. Of course his calves were heavier than they looked.

Jack stirred and exhaled loudly before resuming his steady breathing. Lucy gently began to climb into bed next to him and used her body weight to attempt to nudge him over. But he was a dead weight, over twelve stone of what felt like pure muscle sunk into the memory foam mattress. Instead, Lucy turned the lamp off, pulled the duvet cover up and decided to wrap herself around him to save herself hanging off the edge of the bed. 

He was so warm. Like a radiator. Slipping her hands under his t-shirt, Lucy felt at home. 

"I love you," she whispered into the darkness, and into his chest as she placed her head onto him, seeking out the sound of his heartbeat under the sound of his breath. "I meant what I said, I love you so much." 

Jack didn't move, he was definitely sound asleep.

That is, until a time in the middle of the night - or certainly what Lucy assumed was the middle of the night, having been dreaming of Pep shouting at her accusing her of poisoning the players and frantically trying to find Jack in an empty dressing room. She awoke sweating, momentarily forgetting where she was, when she felt the gentle prodding of fingers on her hips from behind. Still slightly confused, she heard a particularly deep and husky voice whispering into her ear.

"Luce, are ya awake?"

Jack. So comforting.

"Hmmmm," Lucy moaned, trying to kick the duvet off her. It appeared as though the entire duvet was piled onto her body. "Mmmm, it's so warm."

"You nicked the duvet," Jack sniggered, his voice tired but playful. 

"What do you want?" murmured Lucy, sleep threatening to drag her back under again. She realised she was facing away from him but felt too tired to move.