𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄

  he breathed through his disagreement,  choosing to exhale and bite his tongue rather than question the biases that didn't seem fair.  because this was his  *boyfriend*,  he was supposed to be biased because that was the whole job.  so tom forced himself to take the words with a pinch of salt,  to know that he was never going to be as good as people wanted him to be,  even the people close to him.  he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway,  so he'd spend all night sitting at his table and staring at an empty mug whilst ignoring his phone.  he had to focus on the last game of the season.  where they were fighting for sixteenth place.  fuck.  "yeah."  he slumps back in his seat,  staring out around him at the darkness and struggling to find the words.  his eyebrows were drawn together,  exaggerating the frown on his face.  "i just.  need some space.  some quiet.  time."  
            
               /   he'll be FIIIIIINE!!  he'll get over it he just has to complain first.  jon is too nice to him 

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            "I don't think that was the case." he responded calmly, even with the edge to his words. Jon's tone was consistently the same, comforting, warm and patient, even when his partner proceeded to accuse him. "I'm not lying. Tuchel wouldn't be calling you into the squad if you weren't at least one of the best. And to me, you're always gonna be *the* best. You agreeing with that or not, that won't change," he said, taking a seat on the sofa by his dog, petting Taz idly. After he realized what he was doing, he sent a small, almost apologetic smile to the dog for disturbing his sleep— even if he looked very pleased with Jon's company—, but his mind definitely wasn't there. Every thought in his head was about Tom, and how worried he was about him. He mentioned he just got in the car— he would be driving to the airport in such a state?! Goodness... his heart proceeded to feel smaller and smaller in his chest, by each second. "Sounds like a good plan. Eat. Have some nice sleep..." he really needed to rest. Not that Jon would say that out loud, the last thing he probably wanted was to hear any recommendations on how to deal with this loss. He had to 'mourn' it, he had to let it sink in... every player has their own time and way of doing that. And knowing his partner, hopefully, he wouldn't have to stage an intervention to get him to stop overworking himself. He's not flipping Superman, he needed to accept his own limits and the limits of what he can truly do. He needed to rest in between. And take good care of himself. Or all that pressure he'll put on himself will make him snap and result in a lot of stress and injuries he could've avoided if he wasn't so stubborn.
            
            
            // omggg, no bc I definitely imagined it up, now that you mentioned it, with a very very sad song in the background and raining effects, like wth (why my brain just went full cliché, though?!) POOR TOM !!

   "you know as well as i do that a midfielder's performance can make or break a game.  maybe i just broke it."  his words had an edge to them,  as if trying to cut through the metaphor and make sense of anything.  okay,  fine,  they'd lost,  sure.  they weren't very good at the moment.  he wished he could forget the game,  but he could remember every step—  every challenge that he pushed himself up from,  every corner he took and begged someone to get onto the end of,  everything.  it was so much more surreal than any other game,  because it put into perspective just how much they'd been struggling.  suddenly their position on the table was  *real*,  and he couldn't brush that off.  he couldn't fight to make this better,  because it was all already over.  "i'm not the best,  you—  you don't need to  *lie*  to me to make me feel better.  any other midfielder could have produced something today and—  and i didn't.  so."  he took a deep breath,  instantly feeling ridiculous for crying like this and being so outwardly emotional.  he couldn't help but feel embarrassed,  which resulted in him being slightly abrupt like he'd been backed up into a corner,  even if it wasn't fair at all to jon.  he'd realise that later when he'd calmed himself down.  "it's fine.  just need to sleep.  still got to—  fuck.  i still have to get on the plane and everything.  i'm gonna get so much plane food."  
            
               /   i imagine there's a dramatic tiktok edit out there in the thomathan-universe of tom walking past the trophy with a miserable look on his face.  it's what he deserves 

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            He grinned at his boyfriend and nodded along with the idea, promptly. "Nothing sounds better than running away with you—" he said, in that romantic (and equally dramatic) tone of his, that seemed straight out of one of his favourite tv shows. "It doesn't matter where to— as long as you're right there, with me."

   "oh yeah!  that was a good plan.  the island idea was  *great*,  let's just forget about this zombie cat and run away."  he liked to get dramatically attached to the idea of the island,  perhaps just as a lighthearted way to forget about the cat situation they were dealing with.  or also maybe because he wasn't crazy,  and the idea of a fancy holiday like that sounded so good--  especially if he could drag jon along with him.  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            There was a sigh of relief as soon as the midfielder gave him his first answer. But as he seemed to lose confidence in the initial response, and went on adding different cases and conditions there, the keeper was back into his dramatic, panic-mode. "Not again with the zombie cats! Not 'em, of all things! Hurry, we gotta truly go with that strategy of ours: we gotta buy an island and go live in it, far away from the evil creatures— I didn't forget our plan!"

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            He listened intently to his boyfriend as he spoke, taking in every word he said and imagining the scenarios as he went on listing them. He couldn't help but laugh when the other mentioned the sunblock, because he would totally ask his partner to do that for him, in the most charming way. Jon nodded along about the language aspects of their traveling, thinking very similarly: if they ever get to go to France, he would totally let his boyfriend do all the talking. But, he would love to get some language lessons from him... French is quite charming, and even more irresistible is the man he loves. Imagine that! Imagine him getting to learn a bit of French from the midfielder? It'd be fun. Lots of *fun*... he couldn't help but be flirty around that angel of a man. Have you seen him?! Just perfect, really... (dreamy sighs). Jon moved his fingers through Tom's hair, and by the moment he was finished speaking, the keeper cupped his face. "I don't regret this, either. You're making perfect sense, babe, don't you worry. We'll get to live all that you described, and much more, after retirement. Let's enjoy everything, every stage of our lives... we'll miss these times, where football is such a huge part of our daily routines, when we no longer can play. But we'll have all the memories— and plenty of time to get to enjoy all the things we're missing out, now."

   they only ever needed a few words,  and then everything would fall into place immediately after.  'just a bit higher?'  and then he'd rise to that challenge,  wordlessly getting progressively complex with his shots at a randomised pace.  neither one of them either wanted it easy,  because football as a whole was never guaranteed to be a walk in the park,  and they'd always been good at finding the balance.  "yeah?  i wouldn't even need much.  i'd love to go somewhere with you-  let's say spain.  i'd let you do all the talking,  obviously,  but i like to think i'd know enough by that point to get by.  we wouldn't even have to worry about football,  as much as i love it,  'cause i'd be too focused on you.  i'd love to imagine what outfits you'd wear,  what activities we'd drag each other to,  how often i'd convince you to let me put on your suncream for you...  sometimes i feel like there's a whole other life we're missing out on here.  but i don't—  i don't regret this.  not now,  not ever.  i came to terms with it all and half of me hates all the quiet but the other half of me relishes in it,  y'know?  i dunno if i'm making any sense.  s'fine."  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            "Of course," he was there, at the training center, practicing today— and when they were talking and rehearsing set pieces, several times, he couldn't help but think that, if Tom was there and they played in the same team, just one look would've been basically enough to convey to each other what they would had in mind. It was so different, their connection. So deep. Beyond the romantic side of it all, they just seemed to *think* very similarly— minds racing at the same speed, if that makes any sense. Instead, despite how long he knows his teammates, way longer than the almost one year and a half he has been defending Liverpool's goal, it was still difficult to explain anything, any issues that he might've been seeing at the defense, to any of them, sometimes. It made him smile, thinking that his boyfriend would get him, if he was there, because he always got him— though the fact that Tom would rather die than having Liverpool's logo on his chest was also a pretty hilarious thought! He had to regain control over himself not to laugh about it when they were rehearsing things, *all over again*, and making the same mistakes, *again*, for they wouldn't listen to him today for some reason... oh, well. "It makes me think about our travels... in the future. I would sooo make it up for all you've missed in this opportunity, babe, you bet I would."

   he knew he was lucky to see him in a much more intimate light than anyone else would,  and so every small move towards being more open about things was taken enthusiastically by tom.  "just a guy?"  he repeated jon's words incredulously,  huffing a half-hearted and disbelieving sigh.  because there was no use in arguing the angel thing,  the goalkeeper was just so insistent on it and he had no argument.  "okay,  now that's a little dramatic.  i happen to have a thing for the awkward and sweet guys.  or,  y'know,  just the one awkward and sweet guy.  you are overwhelmingly charming,  though,  so don't act too shocked.  you have many adoring fans that would be incredibly jealous of me!  so they should be."  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            It was different, for sure, to once be the one wrapped in the arms of a taller figure. To once be the one who was being protected, too, in the sense that it wasn't his usual to be this open and vulnerable, even with his boyfriend, with whom he was a lot more open and vulnerable with than most people, already. "I'm the lucky one— you're an *angel*, I'm just a guy," he chuckled, because he really couldn't resist the chances of making that joke, it doesn't matter how many times he did very similar ones. "Still can't believe how this awkward keeper from Liverpool managed to win the favours of someone so heavenly divine."

  he loved holding jon like that,  gentle and cherishing as he was,  for once,  the taller of the two of them.  he'd always use his advantage to protect his boyfriend,  standing over him and bringing warmth to him in ways he might brush off from other people.  because tom knew his partner could hurt sometimes,  and he would give everything to put a smile on his face.  "well,  that part is entirely incidental.  s'pose we're just lucky you like me for being me,  huh?"  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            He was quick to respond to the kiss, a soft and warm one, that had him looking at the midfielder in the same way when he cupped his cheeks and withdrew a little, enough to look at him, he supposed. The keeper smiled to him, feeling his heart stuttering in his chest in that sweet, private moment of theirs— before nodding to him. "Thank *you* too. I love listening to your thoughts about us, just as well." he pecked his lips again and told him, with that same enthusiasm from the very first time he had said these words: "I love you, my angel."

  he let go of the weak grip around jon's wrists to brush his hands up his arms,  slow and careful but holding onto his boyfriend's upper arms under all the kisses.  "oh,  please."  he laughed with a shake of his head,  moving his face to catch jon's lips in a proper kiss and cup his face as he shifted back.  "thanks for telling me about your thoughts,  though.  about us.  i like to hear about it."  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            He watched the midfielder with that loving look in his eyes as he laughed, letting him hold his wrists down in place without showing any resistance to it. Mostly because he was very distracted by how beautiful he sounded and looked right now, but also to give the poor man a break! He deserved to have it!
            Jon laughed at just how dramatically he let his head drop to his shoulder and, gently, he kissed the side of his head. "Oh, no! Let me repair things!" he answered as dramatically, peppering kisses all over his head and face— chuckling a little bit as he did.

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            "You and me both," he whispered, leaning his forehead against Tom's. "I gotta pinch myself every now and then to make sure this isn't a dream," he smiled, closing his eyes for a moment as they stayed together like this. "Although I'm certain that not even dreams can be this perfect," he finished speaking, pressing a gentle kiss on the tip of his boyfriend's nose. "Thank you— for being you, my angel."

  he exhaled with the security that jon knew,  could fathom that tom would love him to the extent that he did,  and a small yet private smile-  reserved only for his boyfriend-  settled on his face at their eye contact.  the kind that made him get lost in the man in front of him,  again and again and again until he was drowning in it.  not such a bad way to go,  in his opinion.  "good."  he responded decidedly,  leaning into the soft brushing of his thumb against his cheek.  this was an alternate universe he never could've anticipated-  it still didn't feel real.  "i know that,  too.  even if i can't bloody believe it.  i still see it,  anyway."  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            "I could never forget it," he reassured him in a soft tone of voice, smiling slightly as he moved back a bit just enough to cup the midfielder's cheek— his thumb brushed over his skin, gently, as he made eye contact with him. He absolutely love those expressive eyes of his, goodness! "Not with the way I can see it in your eyes, whenever you look at me..." his tone dropped just a little bit more, to keep that moment intimate and even more private between the two of them. "I love you too, angel."

   tom was more than happy to laugh at his boyfriend's complaints,  because they were rather silly and he was sure he'd be able to make it up to jon later on.  his eyes were bright at the joking,  holding so much amusement and adoration that he wouldn't speak out loud—  all to keep their banter going instead of immediately conceding.  even if he was always weak when it came to jon,  and that was no secret.  "probably not heaven,  actually.  your joking around about my club is evil,  and almost definitely a sin.  they'll make movies about the evil sinner terrorising local mancunian innocent footballer."  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            He pouted. Like those kids who wanted the entire container of cookies, but their (wise!) mother just give them *one* cookie, to their disappointment. That was basically his reaction, now! He wanted all the kisses from his boyfriend, but he was just given one (totally unfair!) Jon brought a hand up to run his fingers through his hair— sighing at the kiss to his cheek. Not exactly what he meant, but he was still content with the attention received, anyways! "Oh— that's kinda disappointing, not gonna lie. It would've been a dramatic way to go, they would make movies about me... call it something like 'A Nightmare in Old Trafford: The Secret Cult to Fred the Red'. I would watch that bloody thing from heaven. Or wherever I was sent to."

   he shook his head at jon's silly teasing,  because he was far too endeared to actually respond with anything to defend his club.  it was bound to fall on deaf ears,  anyway,  so he kept his reaction as minimal as possible.  "i just *gave* you a kiss."  tom pointed out,  kissing his cheek again even if he knew that wasn't what jon meant anyway.  but that's the price he had to pay for being so rude about united,  the midfielder couldn't let him keep getting away with it.  "they'd,  uhhh.  i don't know.  they'd call you some names,,  at the very worst.  they're not allowed to carry the pitchforks anymore,  so no sacrifices."  

   "all the time."   he answered with honesty,  looking to their joined hands and naturally glancing back to the beautiful green eyes that seemed to match their surroundings with an ethereal glow.  "we were always exploring as kids,  and then we found this spot and thought it'd be really cool to have some sort of hangout.  my sister would come down a lot too,  but she always liked to pretend she was too good for it.  we'd skip lessons and mess around in here--  at one point one of my mates managed to bring a whole sofa down here.  a rival group came in and stole it after a few weeks for their own hangout spot,  so we found it again and covered it in paint."  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            "The wolf is indeed very pleased," he retorted jokingly, taking a moment to look around from where they were standing— his hand still linked with his boyfriend's; subconsciously holding it a little tighter, moved by the beautiful, natural sight everywhere around them. "Did you use to come here a lot back in the day?" he inquired, wanting to know more about this place that young-Tom found out— and seemed to know so well, even now. An evidence of how well it marked his memories.

   "very clever,  babe."  he teased,  letting jon keep his own pace but leaning slightly closer to him when he joined the midfielder's side.  it was nice to see that the space had stayed fairly similar to what he'd been used to,  but was clearly left behind when they all moved on.  which was good,  it meant there wasn't gonna be a random new generation of kids interrupting them.  that'd be a bloody nightmare.  "i think it does,  but  *i*  could'a told you that."  he grinned,  gestured to jon once they were at their destination with a dramatic flourish.  "is the wolf happy with the chosen destination?"  

   "thank you.  i like the idea.  and maybe i could teach english and also put on school musicals,  y'know?  that'd be fun.  i guess i'll know more about what i want as i go forward,  right?!"  the law stuff had been ridiculously boring—  and because it was so boring,  it'd been difficult to get stuck into it.  so not only did he have to work so much harder,  he also had his boyfriend and people in his class sort of despising him for being so...  cold,  in a way.  distant.  compartmentalising far too much,  just to pretend that he wanted to be doing it.  he didn't realise how miserable it was until he found a new life. 
            
              "you've never seen one before?!  that's crazy!  and even  *more*  exciting!  ohmygod,  i'll have to work really hard to get the part and introduce you to the world of theatre!  it's so exciting,  i think you're gonna love it,  actually.  there are loads of shows,  so you can find one that works for your schedule!  which i imagine is,  like,  SUPER busy!  do you have any other important games coming up?"  

( @rebcrned )
            
            He paid attention to the confidence in which Dex gave him his answer, glad to hear it in the younger man's voice, for it implied that he was happy with his choice— following the path that spoke to him the most—, as the smile on his face also suggested.
            Jon, obviously, didn't know anything about his law studying, but if he knew— or if that was the musician's response now, hypothetically— he would be able to tell that it didn't suit him. That he was possibly doing it to please some family member. And he would feel sad for the lad and the pressure he would be enduring to follow a career that didn't bring him happiness.
            Because, if there's one thing the Scouse knows really well, it's that he wouldn't be able to do anything else other than playing football. Nothing else would make him as happy and fulfilled. It was his 'calling'...
            As the arts seemed to be Dexter's. Although he could totally see him as a teacher too. All those matched his energy a lot more!
            Nothing seemed more boring than being a lawyer. No offense... but an office life? For ninety percent of all the 'lawyer-ing' happened in a constricting space, behind four walls? Damn... the keeper would lose his mind in a scenario like that!
            "You can definitely do both!" the keeper encouraged. "Life is too short to choose between your passions! Besides, I can see all of them are related somehow— arts, culture and communication. Beautiful careers, if you wanna know what I think! And please, do! It's probably the first musical I'm gonna watch— I'm curious to experience how it's like."

  he laughed at how the other man insisted,  so he supposed he would concede and go watch the game.  it sounded like fun,  anyway,  and he hoped they did nice refreshments!  watching sport was hungry work.  "i'm studying english,"  he smiled,  slightly more confident in his answer than he would've been a few years ago,  explaining to someone that he was studying law.  god forbid.  "but i'm friends with all the music guys and they let me join in on their stuff,  they even let me join their band!  cool,  huh?  anyway,  i'd like to keep doing music on the side,  but i think i wanna be a teacher,  y'know?"  he thought out loud,  it was a conversation he had with himself a million times over and he was sure this was the right path.  he hoped.  
            
               "thank you."  dex appreciated the confidence the football player said it with,  in a way feeling as though it wasn't as doomed to fail as they said it'd be.  but those two always had a way of belittling him,  and reducing him to just being the law student and the perfect individual.  there had never been any room for quirks or flaws or mistakes.  "well.  if i get it,  i'll get you some tickets!  i think you'd like it,  it's a really funny musical.  and the songs are great!  i'll still go watch it if i don't get the part,  though...  it's one of my favourites!"  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            "Nooo!" he protested, weakly, not helping it but chuckling at that. "Mean..." he opened his eyes, then— a wide grin on his lips, that contrasted that 'pained' tone of his voice. "I love you, ask me anything else and you know it's yours! You want a star? I'm gonna grab it for yer! How about the moon? Why wanting a star if you can have the queen of the night all for yourself, am I right? It's yours," he said dramatically, as if writing poetry as he spoke! "But that? I can't do," he shook his head fondly, smiling again at the kiss he was given to his temple— and then affectionately returning it to his jaw.

   he stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend and readjusted his weak grip around jon's wrists—  he was fully aware that all it'd take was jon just moving his arms  (  and,  let's be honest,  it wasn't like tom was actually trying to keep him there  )  and that was the fun part.  at the end of the day,  the midfielder was always under jon's influence.  "oh,  was it not?  i thought that was what you meant."  he laughed against jon's temple before pressing a kiss there.  "i'm sorry,  my fault."  

( @RED-EMPTION )
            
            The keeper let Tom move his arms around without presenting any resistance, while looking at him with a mischievous look in his eyes. It almost said: 'That won't hold back these tickling hands if they must tickle!' but he behaved. For now. "Nooooo!" he exclaimed, a dramatic expression of pain on his face. "Why?! Why ruining the moment?!" he laughed then, dropping his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. "That's not what I meant—" he whined. Eyes closed to emphasize his 'hurting'. "That *kind* of conceding will never happen!"