Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Walking out of the third pub that night into Cardiff's cool, comforting air reinvigorated Colin to continue the impromptu pub crawl the team found themselves on that night.

Not only was he back in his hometown, but they had beat the shit out of Cardiff City. He would have felt bad about it a few years ago, but Colin was so intertwined with Richmond at this point that…well…he didn't want to be sappy when he was trying to get smashed out of his mind.

As they made their way over to the fourth pub, which Colin promised would be the last stop as he could see some of the lads starting to nod off while standing. There weren't many of them left at this point. Kent refused to join but gave a lovely speech about teamwork or something of the like. Lasso and Beard made it halfway through the second lap but tapped out before their third round of drinks.

At the third pub, half of the guys had left and headed back to the hotel. The only ones left were the stumbling bodies of Isaac, Dani, Jan, Sam, Jamie, and Zoreaux, along with a few other stragglers who Colin could tell was a push away from falling over.

"Here we are!" His cheerful words were met with an incoherent jumble of words, with some halfheartedly pumped fists. The only two who seemed unaffected by the odyssey they found themselves on were Jan and Sam. The latter of which had stopped drinking a few stops ago and decided to just stick to soda. Jan was, well, Colin was sure he had seen him drink every shot put in front of him, but the guy wasn't acting like it. Colin just summed it up to something to do with him being Dutch and shrugged it off.

It was funny that even if he hadn't been to this exact pub in a few years, he still remembered his way around. Luckily this area of Cardiff was a ways away from the stadium, so they didn't really have to worry about City fans giving them dirty looks.

As soon as they sat down, Jamie placed his head on the table, mumbling something about taking a nap. The rest of the guys looked like they were getting a second wind and began chatting excitedly about how amazing they had played.

Colin enjoyed the conversation, interjecting a few times with his own thoughts but mostly letting the others talk. To think that just a few years ago, this would have never happened, Jamie would have never passed the ball to Dani, and Colin would feel sick playing against what was once his old teammates. They honestly probably wouldn't have won.

But things were different now. Jamie was actually a decent human being, it turned out, and Colin learned that it's possible to have more than one home.

Even Jan was joining the conversation, only a slight slur to his words, but that was probably more due to the lack of sleep and waning adrenaline high than it did with him being tipsy. To Colin, Jan was an enigma, or like a cryptid. Basically, Colin really didn't know the man that well.

Which is why he was staring intently into the side of his face when Isaac clapped Colin on the shoulder, rudely interrupting him from his study,

"Do you mind getting us another round?" And could Colin say no to his best friend?

He made a big show of sighing and slowly getting up as the guys cheered him on, this was probably the last round for the night, and if it wasn't for everyone else, it sure was for Colin. If he stayed any longer and got any drunker, he would probably start saying stuff that would make everyone uncomfortable.

Not that he thought the lads were bigotted. It was just…he wasn't sure. And it's not like he had any mystery woman or man like Sam. It would just be a blur of hookups and one-night stands. Nothing permanent, nothing serious. The way he liked it.

Sometimes, Colin would dream about falling in love. Who wouldn't? But right now, it wasn't realistic, and he had a career to focus on. One that put him in a very public position, one that had people judging his every move. He couldn't make someone go through all of that.

And sometimes he thought about if it was one of his teammates, specifically, a tall, blonde teammate, one from the Netherlands perhaps, and always spoke his mind, never caring what others thought.

But that was a silly dream.

Finally, he arrived at the bar and ordered a round of pints for everyone and an extra shot for himself—just a little gift for playing so well.

God, he can't believe that a Yankee with a stupid accent was the reason they did so well. If it weren't for the gaffer's constant yapping about "teamwork" and "brotherhood," they would have never made it this far. Far maybe not in the sense of being the best soccer team in the world, but in the sense that the guys actually liked to hang out with each other, something that they probably wouldn't have said before Ted.

Colin idly tries to remember to slide the man an extra pint when a tap on the shoulder shakes him from his thoughts.

He's about to greet whoever it is with a warm smile until,

"I knew it, I'd recognize that ugly mug anywhere!" And Colin is met with three men covered head to toe in blue and white, fuck.

Lloyd, Glenn, and Drew, the three people he never really thought he would see again since he graduated secondary school. They were half the reason he was such a dick for the majority of his life. Dr. Fieldstone would say to take more accountability for his actions, and he really was trying, but these three were just awful,

"So, the prodigal son returns to Cardiff, how does it feel to be back home, dynan?" If it were coming from his parents, he wouldn't have minded the term of endearment, but coming from the mouth of Glenn, it felt like a lash to his skin.

Colin feels himself reverting to his teenage years, just wanting to fit in as much as possible so people wouldn't notice him, going along to get along.

But he was a strong and capable man, he was changed, he wasn't the pushover he used to be, "It's been great, but I've got to get back to the lads with their drinks…." He turns around, but apparently, he didn't do a good job at defusing the situation because he feels another hand on his shoulder forcing him back into the conversation,

Drew digs his nails into Colin's shoulder, and he really wishes he wouldn't he just bought this shirt, "Come off it Colin, we just wanna talk."

Glenn just has to chime in, "Yeah, it's not every day a traitor comes back home."

And he doesn't flinch, but he really wants to. Before he even gets a chance to retort, Lloyd cuts in,

"You get Cardiff relegated and then you think you can show up to our pub and party with your little mates? It's like you've forgotten your roots," He tuts at Colin like he's some sort of fucking child.

Drew sighs and tightens his grip, "Y mae dafad ddu ym mhob praidd."

Colin is in between wanting to defuse the situation and wanting to punch all three of them in the face. Before he gets a chance to decide, another voice cuts in, and luckily it's one that he actually doesn't mind hearing,

"Colin, what is taking so long? The others said that you might have 'fallen into the toilet?'" The dutchman was a breath of fresh air, which isn't really something Colin thought he would ever say about him.

Drew's hand was still digging into his shoulder, and Jan looked between Colin and the three others, "Has my teammate done something to offend you?" 

The three laugh, and Drew finally lets go of his shoulder; Colin tries to hide the sigh of relief underneath the noise of the crowd.

Finally, they stop laughing, and Jan just stands there with his arms folded, like an impatient primary school teacher. Glenn speaks up,

"Of course he's done something to offend us! First, Lil' prick leaves us to join City, then blows it. Then he leaves the whole of Wales to go fuck off with you lot and then comes back to embarrass us."

Jan doesn't really look impressed, but when does he ever, "Is that all?"

"What the fuck do you mean?" Drew's starting to get red in the face, which means he's plastered, steaming mad, or both.

Jan, ever the expert of de-escalation, responds with, "Exactly what I said, can you not hear me clearly?"

Colin can feel the tension rising, and he cuts between the two, pushing Jan behind him. Even though Colin is only a few inches shorter, he feels small when standing in front of him. Like a bear hiding behind a twig.

"Listen we've all had a bit to drink why don't we go our separate ways and call it a night?"

Lloyd spits at the ground in front of Colin's feet, "You never did have a spine, dynan."

"What did you just say to him?" Jan was stepping from behind Colin, and this night was not going to be ending well.

"Oh, I'm sorry did you not hear me clearly, cachgi?" Lloyd attempted to stand toe to toe with Jan, but he was always the shortest of them all, so it looked more like a chihuahua and a St. Bernard. Which Colin would have spent a little longer thinking about, but he was busy pushing Jan out of the way of a nasty right hook coming from Glenn, the coward.

It had been a while since he'd been a fight, but it felt like slipping into a pair of old jeans. It was the kind that had a hole on the arse, and you never wore it outside except to do manual labor.

The three were drunk, and Colin had already started to sober up as soon as he saw their faces, so dodging them wasn't too hard. He even managed to get Drew knocked on his ass. There were still three of them, though, and they did manage to get a couple of hits in, but all it did was fuel Colin's rage.

It felt good until he felt someone's arms hook underneath him. He struggled for a bit until he recognized Isaac trying to talk to him,

"Colin what the fuck is going on?"

Colin looked up and saw Drew, Lloyd, and Glenn being restrained by Sam, Dani, and Zoreaux. In any other instance, he would have been embarrassed to be caught fighting, but right now, he was busy just trying to calm his heartbeat.

Jan spoke up and had explained the whole fiasco, which might have been embellished a little, but Colin didn't really mind.

The owner came over to kick them all out and threatened to call the police, giving the three instigators a furious look Colin was happy not to be at the end of.

It was probably best for the night to end here, honestly. So, everyone decided to go back to the hotel after loading Drew, Glenn, and Lloyd into a random taxi as they kicked and screamed. Colin stood a ways away, but it still felt good to hear their screaming get cut off by a forceful slamming of the door.

Everyone else piled into the Uber, but when Isaac motioned for Colin to climb in, he shook his head,

"I'm gonna walk back man, I need some fresh air." It was the truth, really, and it also wasn't like it was every day he could walk around Cardiff. He wanted to absorb as much of the city as he could before they inevitably had to leave tomorrow.

Isaac just narrowed his eyes and nodded, then looked past Colin's shoulder, "What about you?"

Colin didn't even notice that Jan was still there, "I think I will walk too."

It seemed nearly impossible, but Isaac narrowed his eyes even more, "If I hear you two got into another fight, I'm going to tell Coach."

The pair just nodded their heads, and Isaac finally closed the door after a very long and silent stare down.

As the car pulled away, Colin swept his arm out in a grand gesture, "Shall we?"

Jan just smiled, and it did not do anything to Colin.

The walk back, while rather long, was also relatively uneventful. The two found themselves in comfortable silence. Colin would point out a random building or street corner to Jan, every so often, recounting a story from his youth. Jan would nod along and ask some questions, and then the silence would return.

Every so often, he could see Jan staring at him from the corner of his eye, but that was probably because the shiner on his cheek was starting to bruise. Colin was not looking forward to tomorrow (today?) when he had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Somehow, Colin is unsure of the logistics, they find themselves in front of his hotel room. He's pretty sure that Jan is on the floor below him.

"Well, here we are then."

Colin finally was able to look at Jan in the light, and he saw how flustered he looked, like he hadn't been able to quite catch his breath yet. Again, those few inches of height between them haunted Colin as the other man stood in front of him, crowding Colin into the small nook of the hotel door,

"Colin," Jan's breath ghosted over him, and Colin was sure he could feel the hair on his arms start to stand on edge.

"Yes?" He wishes his voice didn't sound so croaky, but he blames it on the fact that he had too much to drink tonight.

Jan gets ever so closer to him, which basically means they are face to face, centimeters apart, "May I kiss you?"

And Colin feels all the air leave his body, except this time what followed was not the hot sting of pain (like it had meant so many times during his teenage years), but rather the hot comfort of absolute want that crowded throughout his body, Colin slowly nodded his head and then leaned into Jan.

The slow start was to say nothing of how quickly they sped up.

Jan was gripping at the hair at the nape of his neck, and Colin's hands were finding their way underneath the warmth of Jan's jacket, quickly groping as much as he could. It felt as the two of them were trying to force themselves into one, pushing as much as the other until they inevitably became one person.

Colin finally was able to breathe as Jan moved away from attacking his mouth to biting at his neck. Least to say, Colin was in a bit of a head spin, feeling Jan rubbing against him, slowly, achingly moving his thigh between Colin's legs, forcing them apart inch by inch before Colin could comfortably grind down onto it. Needless to say, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to have sex with anyone else after this,  

Then he remembered that they were outside and were about to have sex in the middle of the hall,

"Jan…Jan," Colin bites back a moan when Jan grazes his teeth passes by a particularly sensitive spot, "We should move this inside."

The other man huffs, the breath hitting a spot that he had been focusing most of his attention, Colin was pretty sure it was going to turn into a hickey.

Jan finally moves far enough away from Colin for him to fish the hotel key out of his wallet. By the time Colin finally gets the door open, he's crowding him onto the bed, slowly peeling off Colin's jacket and fingers ghosting his arms in the process, connecting their hands as Jan further pushes Colin onto the bed.

The weight of the slightly taller man on top of him honestly wasn't that uncomfortable, and it was undoubtedly helpful that said taller man was once again grinding into Colin and slowly moving them further up the bed till Colin is resting his back on the headboard and Jan is making deft work of his button-up, Colin decides to return the favor and begins to remove Jan's shirt, forcing them to once again part from another for a few agonizing seconds.

Things are about to move south when the door to the room beeps, and Sam walks in, right as Jan starts unbuttoning Colin's pants,

Everyone's frozen for a second. Sam finally breaks the spell,

"Carry on, I will find other lodging for tonight." The door starts to close but then quickly reopens, "Don't forget to use protection," and then the door finally closes.

And Colin can't help but burst into laughter, to the point where he can feel his ribs start to ache, and his lungs are begging for him to take a break. Jan just looks confused but also has a slight smile on his lips, like he can't quite understand what is going on but is glad to be along for the ride,

Colin finally calms down, "I don't think I've laughed like that in a while," He wipes a tear from his eye and looks at the state of the both of them, and sighs,

"What are we doing Jan?"

Jan just tilts his head to the side and smiles, "Well, I was hoping it was sex."

"I know but…is that it?" Colin knew it was a bit silly to have this kind of conversation while his shirt was halfway across the room and his pants were about to be around his ankles, but it was better to get it out of the way, so there was no awkwardness in the future. They might have passed that point, though.  

Again Jan just smiles, furrowing his brows a bit, "What do you mean?"

"I mean…like…what happens after the sex…." And Colin is not twiddling his fingers. He is just…keeping himself occupied…

"We will sleep?" Jan tries to hide his growing smile, and Colin just rolls his eyes,

"Jan!" Aided with a slight slap to his shoulder, much nicer than the punch he received a few hours before.

Jan just laughs and throws up his hands, "I'm sorry you are very cute when you are angry."

Colin blushes, and Jan continues,

"If you are asking that if this is a one-time thing, it can be, but if things go well, I would like to do it again."

He hates how pathetic he sounds when he asks, "And that's it…just…sex?"

"I would also like to take you on a date, or you can take me one, I don't mind." Jan shrugs his shoulders, but Colin can see the slight furrow of his brow return, and maybe Jan is as nervous as Colin is.

"You should be the one to take me on a date, seeing as I was the one who got punched for your honor." Colin teases, pushing Jan onto his back and slowly climbing on top of him,

Jan still has a smirk on his face, and Colin wants to wipe it off, "I do not remember asking you to do that."

"Oh well then I guess it was someone else that I did that for," Colin makes a dramatic move of trying to get up, "Maybe Dani? Or Jamie? Maybe I should go see them?" He's trying to hide his smile as Jan tackles him and reverses their position, not that Colin minds,

"Don't even joke about that," Jan is inches away from him, hands on either side of his head, "It is killing my mood."

Colin just raises his eyebrows, and Jan sighs, "Fine, you are…my hero Colin Hughes, and I would like to take you on a date."

"Let's finish what we started first." Colin adds before leaning up to kiss Jan.

"Yes please."

Maybe this night didn't turn out exactly how Colin thought it would, but this morning looks absolutely brilliant.

Chapter Text

There's a split second between when he wakes up and when he opens his eyes where Colin briefly believes (more like prays) that everything that happened the night before was just a dream.

And then he feels an arm weighing him down, and unless he's grown a third one, it's definitely not his.

He finally bites the bullet and opens his eyes, slightly, slowly moving his gaze from the arm to the shoulder, to the back, to the head of blonde hair, and Colin still can't wrap his head around any of the information currently going to his brain.

Instead, he decides to ignore it and removes the arm from his chest as carefully as he can, and slips out from under the covers to find wherever Jan Maas threw his pants last night.

It really isn't that much of a feat. What is difficult, however, is figuring out if they're really his or Jan's, which turns out also not to be too difficult when he attempts to put the pants on and immediately feels lost in the pair of jeans.

As he's scrambling around to put on his own pair, he can hear the slight groans of his teammate (lover?????),

There's a slight rustling and a very gravelly voice coming over from the bed, "What are you doing?" And what gives Jan the write to sound so hot at seven in the morning?

Colin pauses for a second while putting on his shirt, thinking, what was he doing?

Instead, he goes with, "Getting ready?"

"It is too early for that." Jan's voice is muffled by the pillow he's using to block out the light peeking through the curtains.

Colin just laughs, "The bus leaves in like an hour."

The grumbling continues, "Then we can sleep for another fifty minutes."

And Colin knows that the use of "we" doesn't mean anything, that everything they talked about last night was some sort of…drunken mistake (even though he knows that both of them were painfully sober).

But it's best not to address those things, just pretend that it didn't happen, pretend that wasn't the most mind-blowing sex of his whole life and pretend that Jan Maas isn't the hottest guy he's ever seen let alone sleep with.

Colin wishes Dr. Fieldstone would come back to Richmond.

"Colin," Finally he can hear Jan's voice clearly, snapping him out of whatever downward spiral he was throwing himself into.

"What?" He's trying to distract himself, shoving his clothes back into his suitcase, since for some reason, he insists on unpacking at every hotel, regardless of how long they're staying.

"Who we're those idiots from last night?" Colin can't see him right now, but he can hear the furrowed brows from here.

He should have expected this line of questioning. Colin would have probably asked the same thing if one of his teammates randomly got into a fight with somebody, "Oh…just some old friends."

"You call those friends?" Jan, still not out of bed, had finally begun to sit up, hair sticking up every which way. It was a lovely distraction.

Colin began moving around the room, collecting Jan's clothes and shoving them into his lap, "Well, when you put it that way…."

Jan accepted the clothes but still made no move to get out of bed, "Why would your friends fight you?"

Colin is holding Jan's sock in his hand and throws it at his face, "Well, I think they were trying to fight you, I just got in the way." Deflect, deflect, deflect.

Jan hums, "And where did you learn to fight?"

"What is this, an interrogation?" It's meant to be a joke, something light,

But Jan smirks, the bastard, "If you want it to be." And he starts to get up to Colin's level, and Colin can feel his mouth go dry with anticipation and Jan is getting closer and closer and –

There's a knock at the door, with a cautious voice coming from the other side,

"Is it alright if I come in and collect my things?"

Sam.

Colin freezes and can feel Jan's breath on his lips. He's also pretty sure one of the articles of clothing he handed Jan was his briefs. It wasn't like anyone on the team hadn't seen each other butt-ass naked, but this was an entirely different circumstance.

He pulls away quickly and motions for Jan to get dressed as quickly as possible, "Get your pants on!"

Jan just keeps still, "That is not what you were saying last night."

Colin starts pacing, "What are you five?"

Another knock, "Uh…guys?"

"Just a second Sam!" The pacing does not stop, "Jan, put your pants on or I'll…."

Jan gets up and makes his way over to Colin, tongue slipping into his open mouth, and Colin closes his eyes automatically.  

Before anything really happens, Jan pulls away from him, and somehow his pants are on, and he's pulling his shirt over his head, "Like I said, you're cute when you're angry." He grabs his jacket, opens the door, greets Sam with a nod, and is gone before Colin can even close his gaping mouth.

Sam walks into the room, almost looking as stunned as Colin. There's a pause before,

"So…you and Jan." Here we go.

Colin just looks up at Sam, still standing with his back to the door, "Yeah."

"How long has that been going on?" He can hear the gears turning in Sam's head.

Colin squinted at the window, "What time is it?"

Sam raises his eyebrows, "So this is a new thing."

"This is a very new thing, so new I'm still trying to comprehend what just happened." Colin answers honestly because what the hell else is he supposed to do?

If Sam is privy to this information of Colin fucking his teammate the least, he can do is listen to him go insane about it.

Sam finally moves away from the door and makes his way over to Colin, "You are okay, right? What I saw seemed very mutual but…."

Colin sits on the bed and buries his face in his hands, "Yes, Sam everything was consensual," extremely consensual, "I do appreciate your concern mate."

Sam smiles. Well, Colin can't see it, what with the face and the hands, but he can definitely hear it, "Then what is there to worry about!"

Colin looks up at Sam like the man just said that Dubai Air is a great and ethical company, "Everything! How about we start with the fact that we're teammates, we're both men, we've never said anything like, substantial to each other," he pauses trying to think of the last time besides last night he really talked to Jan was, "I think the longest I talked to him was when Isaac gave you a haircut!"

Sam nods, "It was a very good haircut."

"Yes, it was." Like, really good.

Sam sighs and sits on the bed next to Colin, "Colin, you are both teammates, yes, but you are both adults, I hope. And yes, two men being together is still difficult today, but if you like the other person there shouldn't be anything to worry about."

Colin flops onto the bed.

"So, there is something to worry about."

Colin sighs, "Yeah, you ignored the very glaring fact that, I don't know him, and we just slept together, like, basically out of nowhere," he scrubs his face with his hands, "it's just moving so fast."

Sam gracefully lays back onto the bed, "Oh I see."

"But Colin, Jan is a grown man, and you are a grown man, you are both adults, I am positive that if you tell him how you are feeling he's not going to get mad at you," Sam pauses and sits up quickly, startingly Colin, "But if he does you need to tell us because I do not wish to play with someone like that."

Colin just laughs and sits up as well, "Thank you, Sam."

"If you want any more unsolicited advice, I am your man."

Before they can have any awkward silence between them, the hotel phone rings, which honestly shocks them both because when does that thing ever ring?

Sam is the one to pick it up, hesitantly holding it up to his ear like it's going to grow a tongue or something,

"Hello?"

And as soon as the word leaves his lips, he holds the phone as far away as possible, "It's for you," and hands it to Colin,

Who also hesitantly holds it up to his ear, "Hel—"

"IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR SORRY ARSE DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW I SWEAR THERE IS NOTHING ON THIS EARTH –"

The raging voice is replaced by a much calmer,

"Hey Colin, if you could make your way down to room 217 that would be swell, thanks!"

And then all he can hear is the dial tone, "I think I'm about to be murdered."

"Coach would never let that happen Colin," Sam claps him on the shoulder, "just stay away from Roy and you will be safe."

The elevator takes its sweet ass time, leaving Colin room to spiral even further, wondering if Coach is finally going to let him go, or if they're going to bench him, or… it finally dings, and he makes his way out of the elevator and towards his uncertain doom.

He barely knocks on the door before he's face to face with Roy Kent, who pulls him into the room with very little fight from Colin and finds himself locked in with Lasso, Beard, and Kent.

This might not end well for him.

"We just want to say first of all, you're not in trouble, alright?" Instantly Lasso's words comfort him like a warm blanket straight out of the dryer.

"OH! He is in trouble, big trouble." And Roy's words feel like a nice bucket of ice water.

Lasso points at Roy, “No.” And then at Colin, "No one is in trouble okay?"

Beard just stands there with his arms crossed.

"I'm sorry Coach but," Colin looks between all three of them, "am I in trouble?"

"Yes."

"No!"

Beard sighs, "This morning Roy got a call from Keeley that three men from Wales had a story on you and were going to sell it to the highest bidder. She stopped it from happening and Roy is angry because you inconvenienced his girlfriend."

While the explanation helps, it does not ease the glare emanating from Roy.

"We just wanted to talk to you about what happened," Lasso starts,

"And make sure it never happens again." Roy finishes, a little less heated.

Lasso continues, "The thing that's most important to us is that you're alright, and I'm glad that you're up and walking around right now, but I'm concerned about that nasty bruise you got there," he points to the side of his own face, mirroring what must be a big mess of yellow and purple on Colin's own cheek.

Colin reaches up and touches his cheek. After all the events of the past few hours, he had completely forgotten about it, but now that he was reminded, he could slowly feel all the aches in his body from the few good hits those idiots had gotten in.

"And your wellbeing also means your public image. Now, I don't subscribe to any of that media nonsense, heaven knows I've had my fair share of bad press, but I just want to make sure that you guys don't have to worry about the off-field stuff affecting your on-field game, you got me?"

Right, public image. Colin had almost forgotten that his whole life was on display for the amusement of others, to poke and prod at, to mock, always watching him, always waiting for him to slip up,

"Of course, Coach." Colin swallows the lump in his throat.

Roy crowds into him, "And if you ever, ever, make Keeley wake up before five again I will end you, you understand?"

Lasso pulls Roy away, "Now now, I think he gets the message big guy. You can go pack up Colin unless you have anything to say?"

Yeah, if I had sex with Jan, what do you think the public would think about that?

"Nope, all good." And he walks out of the room.

Chapter Text

As soon as he steps onto the bus, Colin can feel Sam, Jan, and Isaac all staring at him, all for very different reasons. Because Sam knows, Jan definitely knows, and Isaac does not know but knows there is something he doesn’t know, which makes him upset.

It’s the lack of knowledge that makes Colin pick Isaac for a seatmate. Also, they had promised to sit together on the way back to watch some movies anyways. So it wasn’t like he was avoiding anyone or anything.

He throws his bag overhead and collapses in the seat next to Isaac, all aided with the heat of a pair of eyes drilling a hole in the back of his head as he does. Colin refuses to give in to whatever psychic attack Jan throws at him and keeps his head forward.

It doesn’t help that Isaac is also currently staring at him in the way that only he can, making Colin feel extraordinarily guilty and tired at the same time,

“Look man,” he sighs, “I really don’t want to talk about anything right now, can we just watch a movie?” And gives his best puppy-dog eyes he possibly can.

Isaac stares at him for what seems like an eternity before pulling up his laptop with Kiki’s Delivery Service loaded up and ready to play, “Alright but we are talking about it when we get back.”

“I promise.” He hopes that Isaac can’t sense his crossed toes.

They settle in for the trip back, and before Isaac can even hit play, Colin feels his eyes growing heavy, and soon enough, when he opens the,m Isaac is halfway through some other movie, and the bus is pulling into the Club’s parking lot.

Everyone pushes forward, wanting to be out of the bus as soon as possible to stretch their legs and get home. Colin is one of them, not wanting to stick around for any tough conversations that might be headed his way.

He’s about to ask Will for his bag when he feels a tap on his shoulder, and Colin prays (again) that when he turns around, it is not a tall, attractive Dutchman,

“I want to talk to you about what happened last –” Some of the guys are still milling about, so Colin puts his hand over Jan’s mouth and pulls him over to his car, pushing him into the passenger’s seat before running around to the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut, Jan is giving him a very skeptical look when Colin finally catches his breath and turns to him,

“What did you say?”

Jan keeps his face still, “I hope you are not regretting anything.”

“No! No absolutely not I’m just—” Just what?

Jan stares, he’s very good at that, and it prompts Colin to keep speaking, even though he probably shouldn’t,

“It’s just…don’t you feel like this is moving a bit fast? Like I mean I don’t really know anything about you! I don’t know your favorite color or if you have any pets….”

“Green and I have two dogs and one cat back in Groningen.” There’s a slight hint of a smile, one that Colin wishes was reserved for him,

“Jan, you know what I’m talking about.”

And Jan gets mad? Or some variation of that, just…exasperated with Colin, “No, I do not, you are speaking like you know that I know what you’re talking about when obviously I do not, if you have something you want to say then just say it.”

And what does Colin really want to say? Here is this very attractive football player who seems to want to be in a relationship with Colin, and all he can do is freak out about it.

“I just need a second to breath Jan, get my bearings.”

“I understand.”

“You do?”

“Not really, but I find you very attractive and I’m willing to wait for you.” And Colin is not blushing. It’s just a little hot inside the car.

“It won’t be forever, just, I need a second.” If only seconds lasted for infinity.

Jan nods, “Okay.”

“Okay, glad to have that sorted.” Colin nods as well and finds himself closer to Jan than he was a second ago.

“Mhm.” And closer,

“Glad to have reached a mutual understanding.” And closer,

“Colin, are you going to kiss me or not?”

It sounds like a challenge, and who is Colin to back down from such a challenge? After a quick sweep, it seemed that their conversation had lasted long enough for everyone to clear the parking lot.

Before Jan can say anything, Colin maneuvers himself into his lap, lowering himself as gracefully as he can in such a tight space. The sounds he gets out Jan when he finally moves into a rhythm is enough of a reward for the backache he’s going to have when this is over.

It’s not as pretty as it was the night before when they had a bed to spread out in, but it must be the heat in the air because when Jan reaches down between them, it takes everything from Colin not to scream into the heavens and so he bites down into Jan’s shoulder, which gives him a wonderful orchestral experience directly into his ear, prompting him to bite repeatedly and suck and lick over and over again till Colin thinks that Jan might explode.

After their done, Colin doesn’t feel like moving, but he knows that if he doesn’t move off of Jan, he might never be able to pull himself apart from the other man.

When he settles back into the driver’s seat and finally catches his breath, he turns his head to Jan,

“This cannot turn into a thing.”

Jan has the nerve to look confused, “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t even know you liked men!”

“Men, women, those outside of the gender-binary, they are all attractive to me.”

“Is that a Dutch thing?”

Jan shrugs, “Maybe, or just a me thing.”

God, he’s perfect.

Colin shakes the thought from his head (tries to shake Jan from his head), “Do you want me to drop you off at your place?”

“Absolutely not I value my life,” And Colin is about to retort when Jan pulls out his phone and shows him his screen, “I have an Uber arriving in five minutes.”

Colin balks, “When the hell did you do that?”

Jan just smirks, and Colin wants to kill him or kiss him. But, he’s not really sure, “Get out of my car you git.”

Surprisingly, the dutchman obliges and climbs out before ducking his head back in, “Does this mean we cannot go on a date?” There’s still a smirk, but Colin notices the slight crack in his voice,

“Just for right now,” Colin feels like kicking himself.

He decides to give Jan a twenty-minute head start before starting the Lamborghini, not wanting to risk giving him any more fuel to his honest flame.

Going back to his flat never used to be something that Colin looked forward to. If he wasn’t at training, then he was at the club with the lads, or on a hot date, or just anywhere that wasn’t the empty husk of a home. Because Richmond wasn’t his home, at least that’s what he used to think. It was just a place he would play and then go back to Wales when the season was over. It was just a place he was passing through.

But the more time he spent with the team, the more he actually learned to become a good person, the more he understood that home was where the heart is (according to Coach Lasso), the more he decorated his place.

The walls were filled with pictures of him and the team together, framed stills of them tackling each other on the pitch, hanging out in the pub, just being friends. Even his fridge had extra polaroids they had taken together; his favorite was of him and Coach Lasso chugging some champagne after a huge win. The scarf that Moe had knitted him hung lovingly on his coat hanger because regardless of what those three idiots had thought, he still loved his homeland above anything. Thinking about them made his (neglected) cheek hurt, so he decided to order some takeout and dull the ache with mindless reality T.V.

Richmond had become his home, a place that he cherished, and it wasn’t like he didn’t want to be with Jan. It’s just the logistics of a relationship between them didn’t work in Colin’s brain. Sure, he shouldn’t worry about the public’s opinions on him, but what Coach said to him kept ringing in his brain.

What if they were hypothetically, publicly together, and no one showed up to games? What if they called for Colin and Jan to be kicked off the team? What if…what if…what if…

The doorbell rang, and Colin drowned himself in Hoarders and Thai food, ignoring his thoughts and buzzing phone for the two days they had off.

Of course, it was impossible to ignore completely, and he would sneak a peek every once in a while at the messages.

MEGAN

> 7:38 pm i cant believe u went n beat city omg wat is wrong w u lol

> 7:38 pm mom n dad r pissed haha

ISAAC

> 5:42 pm Yo when are we gonna talk

> 7:19 pm Hey

> 7:21 pm Hello

> 7:32 pm Colin

> 7:32 pm …

> 7:33 pm You can’t ignore me forever, bruv

Colin takes it as a challenge and scrolls through his other messages; the rest of them are from Dani talking about football in the group chat, Sam sending vague good morning and good night messages, and then there’s Jan,

JAN

> 4:28 pm You never told me how you learned to fight.

> 4:35 pm Also, how is your cheek? It would be best if you put something on it.

His thumb is already hitting send before he can even think about it.

< 7:50 pm its not a very interesting story

< 7:51 pm and its fine, doesn’t even hurt

Colin rubs his cheek while a woman is squabbling with her family about throwing away expired yogurt when he gets a response,

> 8:00 pm I would like to hear it regardless.

< 8:02 pm those guys in the pub and me would hang out a lot in school

< 8:02 pm they liked to fight so i had to learn to like it too

> 8:03 pm Did you like it?

The phone dims and locks while he waits for an answer to come to him.

Fighting was always for survival, not for anything else.

Getting jumped on the way home, letting the blokes from the school down the way know they weren’t welcome near their hangout place, it was a weapon for hormonal fueled war.

So many times, Colin would get the shit end of the stick. He was the leanest of the group, never raised his voice, stayed in the background, never had a spine,

I am a strong and capable man.

He was the easiest target, but sometimes fighting felt good. It felt good to beat somebody blue and black. It felt good to see a flash of fear in the eyes of someone who had spit slurs at you just a minute ago, it felt good, but it terrified him when he washed the blood off his hands and realized that none of it was his.

I am not a piece of shit.

Because as much as Dr. Fieldstone didn’t want him to add that part, he needed it. He needed to remember that the past was the past. He left all of the fighting behind when his football coach told him to,

“Nobody wants to see their star player covered in bruises.”

Nobody likes a piece of shit. And he wasn’t that anymore. He didn’t want to be that anymore. The ugly part of him came out when he messed with Nate, the part of him he promised never to show again.

And Colin faced the consequences, everything that Nate said, sure it burned, but it wasn’t undeserved. He was at Richmond to do a job, stay out of the way and make sure that the real players could shine, just there to cover a bloodstain.

Colin unlocks his phone and shoots off a text,

< 8:09 pm no

And closes his phone for the rest of the weekend.

Chapter Text

Before the sun even has the chance to rise, Colin wakes up. Lying in bed, listening as the birds slowly start to warm up their vocal cords, the sounds of cars beginning their morning commute, watching as the sun creeps into his room.

It would be the perfect time to think, the perfect time to formulate a plan, to figure out what he wants to do in the coming days, weeks, years.

But he doesn't. His mind was blank. He couldn't make himself think if he wanted to.

But that doesn't mean his head is empty. He wishes it was. He's had to deal with the constant, deafening noise of what ifs, stains, public image, blood, fighting, and the loudest of all, Jan. 

Jan and his honesty, and his hair, and his quiet laugh, and his eyes, and the way he made Colin feel like he was back in school stealing glances at the boys across the yard.

It was torturous.

He wishes that he could just let himself be fooled by the comforting façade of being with Jan, accepting that they could be together. That they could work out, that nothing mattered except for the two of them.

It just wasn't that easy. He was constantly reminded of his teammates, of his coaches, of the fans. Colin's life wasn't his own anymore, his mistakes reflected his team, and that was something they couldn't afford.

The blaring of his alarm finally got him out of bed. Usually, he was a morning person, enjoying watching the city wake up around him, but today was just not a normal day. The weight of the weekend had finally decided to set into his bones, the two days he spent wallowing on the couch, drowning in takeout and lousy television, ignoring the world around him. It had felt nice at the moment, but most things do. He had to wake up eventually.

As he walked out into his flat, changed into semi-presentable clothing, the emptiness of it felt more oppressive. It was something that hadn't bothered him in a while. Of course, Colin enjoyed going out with his friends, but there was something about being alone that felt healing, that for those few hours he had to himself, he could be himself. Whoever that was.

However, this morning, aided by the murmuring in his head, had morphed the lonely flat into a reminder. A reminder that this was all he had, pictures of fond memories, mementos of his hometown, and himself. No other warm body had entered this place, not even his teammates, not by design, just by happenstance.

In the end, Colin was just…there. He filled a space, was part of the lineup, took up a spot on the field, existed in the peripheral of fans and players, and when they took their eyes off him, he disappeared. That was his job.

The eggs he makes are too runny, and the toast is too burnt. He throws it in the bin and presses his face into his hands, wincing at the touch when he pushes too hard into his cheek. At least he could still feel, he thinks.

He doesn't feel like driving, like putting in the effort. So, he calls a Lyft and appreciates the driver's curt nod and quiet radio, not even commenting as Colin exits and walks toward the player entrance.

Colin can hear the team before he sees them, chatting away about what they had done over the weekend. It was lovely, quaint, average, and Colin felt himself sinking back into the groove he had once carved out, going through the motion of a regular morning like he had so many times before.

Before he…before Nate…before Glenn...before Lloyd, and Drew.

Before Jan crashed into him, the asshole. 

Isaac gives him a look, Sam greets him with a smile, and Jan is too busy critiquing O'Brien's footwork from the match. It's normal, so normal that Colin feels like screaming, begging someone to just lobotomize him so he can enjoy it, so he can stop thinking about everything. But instead, he smiles and laughs and pretends.

Well, it's easy to pretend when you're talking. Colin took enough drama in school to know how to "fake it till you make it" (thank you, Lasso). But it's harder to pretend like you can play football. There's no place to hide on a field,

"Colin what the fuck are you doing? Stop thinking and just hit the fucking ball!" Kent had been hounding him all day, probably still not over the fact that Colin was responsible for Keeley waking up too early. Something that was punishable by death in Roy's book.

"Yeah, got it, sorry." Is all he can muster up.

The clouds overhead start to get threatening; the weather app had warned there might be some downpour, but Coach wanted to get as much practice in before the next game.

Colin wishes the sky would just make up its mind.

Goodman passes to him, and time slows. Colin has the perfect opportunity to make a shot. The path to the goal couldn't be clearer. Zoreaux is basically on the other side of the field with the way he's defending. It's perfect timing, its perfect, all he has to do is kick the fucking ball,

His leg stutters, and Jamie steals it from under him.

A whistle is blown, and Colin can hear Roy's thundering steps, "COLIN!" (He really tries not to flinch, but he doesn't think anyone would blame him, it is Roy Fucking Kent, after all) "Where is your fucking head at?"

Colin tries to sputter out something that resembles a coherent sentence, but nothing reaches Roy's ears,

"A move like that could cost us a game, you understand?"

Colin just nods, preferring to stare at the ground instead of Roy's intense glare. But then, he feels a hand on his shoulder; Isaac squeezes it, a reminder that he's there. 

"Alright, I think Colin's got it Roy," Lasso speaks up, "It's just something we've gotta work at that's all, everybody gets the jitters sometimes, right Beard?"

"I don't."

"That is not helpful, but I appreciate the honesty. Alright well why don't we cut practice here, looks like the big man upstairs is nearing the end of The Fault in Our Stars and we don't wanna be out here for that!"

Everyone has to take a second to process Lasso's sentence through multiple translators before nodding and heading inside.

Colin decides to lag behind, shaking off Isaac's questioning look and ignoring Jan's invasive stare. The pitch just doesn't want to let him go, and it's not quite raining.

He runs drills, keeps his footwork standard, and sticks to the basics. Plays the way he did before being told he was the best player on his school's team, before he was scouted by City, back to when he would just play.

The rain starts slow, and he makes a game of trying to avoid its drops like they're opposing players. Dodging and twisting out of their way, and there's that fucking opening again, the perfect one, and all he has to do is hit the damn ball.

The rain starts speeding up, pelting against his skull, drowning out all of his thoughts, clawing at his skin,

He tries to make the shot anyway, tries to fucking whip it, tries to be someone other than himself for just once.

The rain had been coming down for so long in the time it took for Colin to decide to kick that the pitch was basically an ocean. His feet come out from under him, and for a moment, he's airborne.

He couldn't have been in the air for more than a second, just a few feet between him and the ground. That doesn't mean the landing hurts any less. That the wind isn't knocked out of him.

He closes his eyes to shield them from the rain and opens his mouth to quench his thirst, wondering if he stayed like this long enough, he would eventually drown.

Colin's not sure how long he's lying there, letting the rain pelt him over and over again.

Out of nowhere, it stops, and when he opens his eyes, Isaac is looking down at him holding an umbrella,

"You're gonna catch a cold."

A bitter laugh rips out of him, "I'm a grown man."

"Grown men catch colds, bruv." He holds out his hand, and Colin takes it, letting Isaac pick him off the ground. They stand there for a moment, looking at the pitch slowly gather water, "Wanna grab some food?"

"Sure." He’s not really hungry, but food might fill the emptiness inside him.

Isaac walks him to the locker room, sitting on the bench as Colin makes his way to the showers. He uses the water pressure as a masseuse, lets it work at the knots in his shoulders, the warmth reminding him of strong hands.

He wishes he would have worn sweats today; jeans just don't feel right. But the hoodie he stuffed away helps ease the pain of having to put jeans on wet legs.

Isaac finally looks up from his phone, and they make their way to his car. The drive is quiet. Isaac has always been a man of few words but never soft-spoken. He was born to be a captain, always knowing the right thing to say, the right thing to do. Colin always envied that side of him, wishing that Isaac could just be another background character alongside him. But Isaac was made of better stuff than Colin. He was made for the spotlight.

The rain is coming down harder as they run inside the pub, catching a glare from the waiter as they shake off like wet dogs.

Luckily enough, they get seated. Isaac orders for both of them, "We'll have The Big Meat pizza and two whiskey cask ciders."

As the waiter walks away, Colin speaks up, "You didn't even ask what I wanted."

"I know you didn't have breakfast this morning."

"How could you possibly know that?"

Isaac shrugs, "I guessed," Then straightens up, "And I'm your captain."

They stare at each other for a while. The talking thing has been new for them. Not like they hadn't talked before, but they never really said much to each other. Always trying to impress Jamie left little room for either of them to really…express how they were feeling. But, you know, with Lasso, things changed, and Isaac became captain. So, they talked now.

Not that it was easy.

They keep the staring contest going until the waiter comes back with their drinks, but they stay silent, not wanting to start any conversation the waiter can interrupt. Colin hopes that the waiter never comes with their food, but of course, he does, and before Colin can take a bite, Isaac starts talking,

"Are you okay?" He's sincere; everything Isaac does is sincere. It would be easy to fall in love with the man, it would be comforting, easy. But nothing in Colin's life was easy,

He takes a bite and swallows, "Yeah."

The staring starts up again, and Colin sighs, "No."

Isaac takes his first bite, "Does it have to do with the thing you won't talk to me about?"

Colin decides to just nod because if he opens his mouth, he'll spill everything.

"So, talk about it."

And Colin does, he opens his mouth, and he can't stop. He tells Isaac about Glenn, about Drew, about how fighting felt good, how Jan asked to kiss him (omitting the scandalous details), about how torn he feels at the moment, how he just wants to focus on the game.

They sit in silence again, finishing their respective last slices.

"That's a lot mate."

Colin huffs, "Tell me about it."

"I don't really know what to tell you," Isaac crosses his arms, "I'm not gonna lie to ya and say I know what you're going through, cause I really don't,"

"Is this a pep talk, captain?"

"Shut up, let me finish," Colin raises his hands in defeat,

"Like I was saying, I don't know what you're going through, and any advice I give you would be ripped straight from those romcoms that Lasso talks about. But I can see that you're going through it right now, and I want you to know that you don't have to go through it alone, we're a team."

The waiter comes to pick up their empty plates and places the check down between them. Isaac grabs it before Colin can,

"I'm your captain, it's my job to make sure you're in top shape." He taps the side of his head; Colin gets the message.

"And for what it's worth, I think you and Jan make a good couple."

Colin shakes his head (ignoring the heat in his face), and they spend the rest of the time talking about nothing and watching as the rain lulls the city back to sleep.

Chapter Text

Colin can feel the "I told you so" coming from a mile away when he wakes up.

His head pounding, and his clothes are clinging to him from sweating all night. There's a moment where he thinks about skipping practice, but they have a big game coming up, and Colin doesn't want to be why the team loses.

He doesn’t really feel like dressing up today, so he throws on a hoodie and heads down to the corner store for some medicine before heading to the club. 

Not wanting to have to deal with Isaac’s “captain” face, he rushes to his locker, trying to get his kit on and out the door as fast as humanly possible before Isaac notices anything amiss.

Just as he’s about to start lacing his boots Zoreaux comes up to him, “Beard wants to talk to you, looks serious. But honestly, everything does with him. Have no idea what that dude is thinking about.”

There's a tightening in his chest as he takes the long walk from his locker to the office. Every step feels like he's wading through a swamp.

He swallows and opens the door, “You wanted to see me, Coach?”

Beard is in the middle of reading the history of…some chess person? Colin’s not really sure. Beard doesn’t even bother to look up as he motions to the empty chair across from him.

As he sits, he notices there's no Lasso, no Kent, not even Higgins, who sometimes found himself down here to do…whatever it is the four of them did when they were together.

Colin waits for Beard to finish what must be an exciting chapter, busying himself with spiraling thoughts and picking at the skin on his fingers when the man finally closes it and places it down on the desk,

“I wanted to talk to you about Nate.”

Colin knows his face contorts. He can't really control the gut-punch reaction to hearing the name, "Um…why?"

“Because Isaac was worried about you. And Jamie and Sam,”

“Uh…”

Beard starts counting on his fingers, “And Bumbercatch and Jan and –”

“OKAY!” The door is closed, but some of the guys perk their heads up.

Beard gives him a look, “I heard what he said to you that day,” Colin flinches, “And now that Dr. Fieldstone isn’t here anymore, I know you don’t have an outlet for your” he waves a hand “emotions.”

“If I’m not playing good enough I can –”

“This isn’t about your game,” Beard sighs, “Honestly Ted should be doing this…Colin what Nate said to you was completely uncalled for you understand?”

Colin nods, his head starts pounding again.

They stare at each other for a second. Colin really can't make his mouth open. It's taking every cell of his body to not collapse onto the floor right then and there,

“You understand that right, you know better than everyone else why you play, so why do you play Colin?”

Colin looks back to his hands, picked raw, “Because I love it.”

“Then that’s all that matters, right?”

He looks back up, “Right.”

Beard just nods and picks his book back up, Colin takes that as the end of the conversation, and as he opens the door, he turns back around,

“Thanks coach, it...means a lot.” It really does.

Beard just nods, not bothering to look up, but Colin can see the hint of a smile.

Training is going relatively well. They're practicing some new formations, and everyone is moving in sync with one another. Even Colin feels himself forgetting all his worries (and waning health) and just focusing on the game ahead of him, which is probably why he doesn't see Sam headed straight for him,

“I think you killed him.”

"I am very much alive Jamie." But he does feel like he's been hit with a ton of bricks, it wasn't even that bad of a hit, but the cold that's making its way through his body is honestly not helping with the whole situation.

Isaac offers a hand, “Colin, man, you’re not looking so hot.”

“I always look hot.” Colin takes it and leans on Isaac to keep the ground from calling his name.

Lasso and the others come jogging over (well, Lasso jogs, Beard and Kent speed walk), "Colin, you alright there? How many fingers am I holding up?"

The fingers are directly in his face, “Two, coach I’m fine it wasn’t that bad of a hit.”

Sam has the audacity to look offended.

“Coach I think he has a fever or something,” Colin had forgotten that he had been leaning on Isaac, the traitor.

Lasso puts a hand on his forehead and very scientifically declares, "Yeah, I think your captain is right there Mr. Hughes."

“Wait,” Colin feels his body shake, “no I’m fine. It’s just a cold I can still train.”

“Mate, you look like shit,” Jamie eloquently adds, “you need to rest.”

Colin looks around at the rest of the team, all nodding in agreement, "But…."

“Someone should take you home, you look like you’re ready to keel over.”

“I can do it.” Jan steps up, arms crossed and staring directly into Colin.

“What – no way! Isaac come on you can’t let him drive my baby.” Colin really doesn’t want to think of the logistics of his …teammate taking care of him while he’s sick.

Isaac starts to walk him over to Jan, “Colin, you’re not really in a position to make decisions here.”

“Or ever,” Adds Jamie.

"I'll cough on you." That gets Jamie to run halfway across the pitch and makes Colin forget his aching bones for a second.

Jan watches Colin closely as he walks towards the locker room. It's not like he's that sick, he’s completely capable of walking from one point to the other, thank you very much.

Of course, he has to trip on the carpet, letting out a slight yelp as he makes his way to the ground. Jan catches him (the bastard),

"Are you sure Sam did not hit your head?" They're inches apart, and if Colin wasn't worried about giving Jan his cold, he would have kissed him right there.

“I’m absolutely positive Sam did not hit my head.” Jan is leaning over Colin, hand spread against his back, and it feels like they’re the only two people in the world, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

It takes Will walking by for them to realize that other people still exist, and Jan straightens Colin back up, trying (and failing) to hide the blush growing on his face. Colin finds it so endearing he almost doesn't feel like teasing him…almost,

“I think you’ve got something on your face.” He looks back at him as they walk into the locker room. Jan starts wiping at his face,

“Where?”

Colin kisses him on the cheek, blaming it on the high body temperature and foggy brain. Jan looks absolutely shocked, and Colin instantly feels the cold wave of regret crash down on him,

“Sorry, I’m sorry….that was stupid.” He busies himself with taking off his kit, Jan does the same,

“Colin,”

He closes his eyes, “Yeah?”

“Are you trying to get me sick?”

Colin takes a moment, “Not on purpose.”

“Because I really want to kiss you, but I refuse to get your germs.” And Jan should be the one to talk when he’s undressing right across from Colin.

They walk over to Colin’s car, where he hesitantly hands over his keys, “If anything happens to this car, I will kill you.”

Jan smiles, “You’re so cute –”

“When I’m angry, yeah-yeah,” Colin waves a hand, “But I’m serious, one scratch and I’m cutting your dick off.”

Jan opens his mouth to say what Colin can only assume is wholly inappropriate, so he puts a hand over his mouth, “No. Now please take me home before I throw up on you.”

It’s actually a crime how good Jan looks driving his car. Colin wishes there was something about the man he could hate.

Before he opens the door, Colin tries to remember what it looked like that morning before he left. He's pretty sure he cleaned up at least two nights ago, but he really hadn't paid attention when he got home last night.

"Welcome to my flat." Walking inside, it actually doesn't look that bad. Just a few beer bottles and some unfolded blankets were strewn across the couch, but nothing horrendous.

“It is not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Thank you?”

Jan smiles, so Colin can only assume it was a compliment.

While Colin situates himself on the couch, Jan goes through his kitchen, looking for…something. Before coming out into the living room, “I’m going shopping. Do not die before I get back.”

“What?”

“I’m going shop—”

“No, I heard you but…why?” Colin’s pretty sure he has chicken soup somewhere in the pantry.

Jan just stares back at him, “Because I want to make dinner, but you don’t have the proper ingredients.”

“Fine do what you will," Colin sinks further down onto the couch, "I’ll be here…dying.”

Jan walks over and puts the back of his hand on Colin’s forehead, “You’re right, I think its terminal.”

Colin narrows his eyes and pushes Jan’s hand away, “I’ll cough on you.”

“I don’t catch colds.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I’ll be back,” pausing in the doorway before adding, “don’t miss me too much.”

“I won’t.” He lies.

He’s still looking through Netflix when there’s a knock at the door, and five seconds later, and two seconds after that,

"I'm coming!" Colin opens it with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, glaring at Jan, whose hand is still up in the air,

“I thought you might have actually died.”

“I don’t think a cold is going to kill me, Jan.” He tries to take one of the bags from Jan’s hand, who tuts back at him,

“You’re sick, I will be taking care of you, go sit and watch something.”

“I’m not that sick.”

Jan pushes him back over to the couch, “Maybe not, but I still want to cook for you.”

And Colin doesn’t blush…God, who is he kidding? He's got it bad, "Well is there anything I can do to help?"

“Yes,” Jan is already unloading the bags, “Where are your pots?”

After getting Jan situated in the kitchen, he is once again kicked out of it, settled with the task of finding something that both of them would enjoy. Which isn't as easy a task as one would think. Jan keeps knocking down Colin's choices of bad reality T.V., and Colin doesn't want to watch a serial killer documentary when his stomach is already twisting.

Colin finally gets fed up and hits the shuffle button, and it lands on some dumb-looking sappy rom-com. He doesn't bother asking Jan for his input and just lets it play.

Jan finally comes in with two bowls after what seems ages, and hands one to Colin before sitting next to him.

Looking down into the bowl, Colin sees a whole lot of green,

“What is this?” Not that he doesn't appreciate Jan's hard work. It just looks…interesting.

“Snert.”

“Excuse me?”

Jan rolls his eyes, “Just eat it.”

Colin scrunches his face and takes a bite, it's not really a soup that his mother would make, more like a solid mass, but it warms him up in a good way. Sneaking a glance at Jan, the man is already looking at him,

“What do you think?” Colin’s taken back to their night together, how nervous Jan had looked when he asked to kiss him,

“It’s great.”

Colin eats the whole thing before the movie is over and even asks for seconds.

They’re in the middle of the second one when he notices how close they had gotten, Jan had sneakily placed his arm over Colin’s shoulders, and the blanket that was once tightly wrapped around his shoulders had made its way over both of their laps.

A large part of him wants to move away, push Jan out, ask him to leave, and thank him for the soup. But isn't he allowed to have this? What's stopping him, other people? Does he really care that much about what they think? As long as he can play football, that's all that really matters in the long run, and if he could have Jan along with that? That would be the cherry on top.

“Colin, you’re staring at me.”

Oh god, “Sorry.”

"I don't mind, I know I'm very handsome." Jan laughs, and Colin hits him, which just makes him laugh harder.

The movie is nearing the end, and Colin wishes it would play forever,

“What’s your cats name?”

“Thijs, it means gift from God. My dogs are Lieve and Saar if you were curious.”

“Why is your favorite color green?”

“Because its pretty.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Fried chicken.”

Colin hums, the protagonists are finally kissing,

“What about you?” Jan asks, taking Colin for a loop.

“What about me?”

“Do you have any pets?”

“No, my sister was allergic, I had a pet fish, but it died after a week.”

“What about your favorite color?”

Colin takes a second to think, “I like red.”

They sit together as the credits roll. Neither of them makes a move to get up. It's nice, but eventually, one of them will have to.

“Colin,”

“Yeah?”

"Those guys in Cardiff…."

Colin freezes up, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jan turns to him, “Why not?”

Colin shrugs, “There’s nothing to talk about really.” Nothing he wants to talk about anyways.

"You say that, but I don't think you're telling the truth." Damn this man and his honesty and the way he sees through Colin.

Colin just sighs in response, “Jan, I just…don’t want to talk about it when I’m sick.”

“Then will you ever talk about it?”

Honestly, if Jan asked, Colin would probably cut his heart out for him,

“Maybe, I don’t get why you’re hung up on it so much, it was just a fight.”

“Because it’s bothering you, and I don’t want you to feel that way.”

Colin has to look away, he can't handle this. The way Jan looks at him, the way he talks to him, it's just too much. Apparently, his body agrees because he can feel his eyes drooping, even though this conversation is far from being over.

Jan notices, of course he does and helps Colin to his bed. Not that he needs help, but he's not really in the fighting spirit, and it's nice to be tucked in, even as an adult.

“Sorry I wasn’t better company; you didn’t even get anything out of it.” He's not accusing Jan or anything, Colin just wonders how he would act if the roles were reversed.

Jan furrows his brow, “That’s not why I did it.”

“No?”

“Of course not, I wanted to take care of you, that’s it.”

It's a lot to process, so Colin shuts his eyes and mumbles out a thank you, basking in the warmth when Jan presses a kiss into his forehead,

“Goede nacht mijn liefste.”

When the front door closes, all of the warmth leaves with Jan, Colin wraps the sheets around him and wills himself to sleep without it.

Chapter Text

Richmond loses, 0-1.

It wasn’t even a particularly spectacular loss either. They weren’t on the cusp of being relegated (again), no looming force was affecting the players. They simply just lost.

Colin wasn’t even there to see it, too busy being patched up inside. A rogue foot had caught his leg at an inopportune time, so he limped off the pitch, and then by the time the doctor had finished bandaging the wound, the game was over.

He didn’t even have to ask, the quiet entrance of the team spoke loud enough.

It was selfish, but Colin couldn’t help but think if things would have been different if he was on the pitch. If maybe there was something he could have done, like what?

He’s no Dani or Jamie, not an up-and-comer like Sam. He’s just Colin, just a body.

(Just a painting in a Holiday Inn.)

The lads are milling about, talking amongst themselves, trying to comfort each other by distraction. Even though he was there for most of the game, Colin doesn’t feel like he belongs in any of the conversations. He wasn’t present when they lost, so he doesn’t know how they feel. So, he slips out, giving Isaac a quick pat on the shoulders, and leaves.

Of course, it’s never that easy, is it?

“Colin.”

Honestly, he shouldn’t turn around, just keep walking like he didn’t hear it, but Colin is a sucker for pain, “Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you?” Jan is standing there, still in his kit and still sweating.

Every inch of his body is screaming at him to leave. Talking never leads to anything good.

“Sure,” Spotting the always-nearly empty boot room, he opens the door for Jan, who walks in, never breaking eye contact with Colin.

There’s a vague smell of smoke. It reminds Colin of his grandparent’s home, so he sinks into the bench and lets the warmth wash over him before it’s taken from him.

Jan is still standing, staring at the stark white bandage, “How’s your leg?”

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Stop trying to pick a fight.

“No, I just wanted to know,” Jan walks closer, crouching down to inspect the damage, “Are you alright?”

And Colin lets him, shivering when Jan’s fingers brush against his skin, “Yep, no stitches needed.”

“But,” Jan looks up at him, “are you okay?”

Something in Colin – something in the dark corners of his brain, the part he hates, the part he ignores, the part he wishes was never there – breaks open, “I’m fine.”

“Why are you lying?” There’s such a softness to Jan’s eyes and his voice, and Colin wants to be anywhere but this cramped room that smells like his grandfather,

“Why do you care, Jan?”

The softness leaves, confusion sets in, “Because I like you.”

It’s too much,

Colin closes his eyes, “You don’t even know me.”

“I want to,” And he’s so fucking sincere, and Colin wants to scream at him, what part of me do you like, what part of me could you possibly like? “Colin what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

It’s Jan’s turn to sigh, finally climbing up from the floor to the bench, “I hate when you do that.”

“What?”

“When you pretend you’re okay, when it is obvious you’re not.” And there it is.

Colin had been able to pass through life with no one questioning him. He was able to go to school and get in fights, and his parents would disapprove of the black eyes and split lips, and his old coach would reprimand him, but they never asked how he felt. Never tried to get into the inner workings of a teenager’s brain, and it was fine. Colin was fine. As long as he kept to himself, as long as he faded into the background, he was safe.

Then Jan had to come into his life and ask to kiss him, and now here they were.

“Colin, just talk to me.” Jan is reaching for his hand,

“There’s nothing to talk about.” And Colin pulls it away.

The confusion slips into something else, something that Colin knows all too well,

“Why are you acting like this?” Jan leans away and runs a hand through his hair, “One moment you’re kissing me and the next you don’t want to talk to me. Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on with you?”

There’s so much to say, so many stories of ill-tempers and waning egos, of blood and paintings, of fists and dirt and spit. Nothing he feels like sharing with someone who could leave at any moment.

So, he doesn’t, “Jan, we were just having some fun together, that’s all.”

“No,” Now that’s anger, “no you do not get to say that.” Jan gets up, running another hand through his hair, with a harsh, “Wat is er met jou aan de hand?” Colin’s not sure what it means, but he can hear the tone clear enough.

“You wanted to go on a date with me, you told me,” His hands are flying wildly through the air, and Colin would find it endearing if it weren’t for the current circumstances,

“I was drunk.” He wasn’t.

“No. No you were not,” Jan looks beautiful, haloed by the fluorescent lights, “Do you think I would have sex with you if you were?”

Colin shrugs his shoulders, feeling his muscles fight against it with every fiber. Jan looks like he might vomit or punch something, “Why are you doing this. Just be honest with me, please.”

It’s a nice option, “I am.”

“Fuck you,” There’s a finger pointing at Colin, “You are acting like a child. I want to be with you, I want – “

“Well, I don’t.” And that’s all it takes.

Colin would take back the words just to see him angry again, to see him anything other than how he looks now,

“Fine, you win, ik wil niet meer ruziën,” And Jan walks away, out the door with a final, “I’ll see you later, Colin.”

Colin watches like it’s a damn burning building. He can’t turn away, can’t avert his eyes from the tragedy, just watches it burn and turn to ash. Watches as the door slowly closes and silently clicks shut, leaving Colin alone.

He’s not even aware he’s crying till he can taste salt on his lips, and then everything crashes. Colin falls to the floor, gripping at the ugly carpet, trying to find something that he can hold onto. Everything is blurry, and he can feel himself trying to scream, but nothing is coming out.

Jan had been there just a second ago, and now he’s gone.

There’s snot, and Colin is hyperventilating, and there’s a knock followed by a midwestern accent waltzing into the room, “Hey Rebecca, I wanted to – oh Colin! What’s – hey are you okay?” Lasso rushes over to him, hands hovering over his shoulders, and Colin shakes,

“I just messed up, really badly,” he can barely get the words out, “and I don’t think – I don’t,” he hates the way he sounds, the way the words come out stuttered and panicked.

“Hey, it’s okay, take a breath okay?”

And he tries, but it’s so hard, it’s so hard, and he can’t seem to catch his breath, and he can’t seem to see Lasso in front of him, and he can’t feel his hands, and he can’t feel, and he can’t breathe, and Colin thinks he’s dying,

And he just keeps crying.

Lasso brings him close to his chest, placing Colin’s head near his heart, and he’s saying something, but Colin can’t hear it. It sounds so far away.

Slowly he can catch some words, “…okay…fine…listen…breathe Colin.”

And he tries. He listens to Lasso’s heart and tries to catch on to the rhythm of his breathing.

He’s not sure how long they’re like that when he finally calms down and pulls away from Lasso,

“Sorry, Coach I –”

Lasso shakes his head, fixing Colin with a stern look, “Nothing to apologize for, understand?”

And there’s a recognition in his words and…Colin didn’t just have a panic attack. He didn’t. This wasn’t – that, right?

It was his conscious choice to burn the bridge between him and Jan, to keep the inevitable from happening.

Lasso places a hand on Colin’s still shaking shoulder, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want to be alone?”

Colin’s breath hitches and tears start welling up again, “No.”

“Let’s get you some fresh air then.”

Chapter Text

The walk reminded him of Cardiff when things were normal, as normal as Colin’s life had been until then. Before everything changed, and Jan came crashing into his life.

But was it really right to blame it all on him? Colin was an extremely willing participant in the whole affair. Perhaps that’s why he felt such a strong urge to be the one who ended it before it got too messy, too real.

Ted hadn’t spoken since they left the club, and Colin is grateful but wishes they could address the very thing that led them to this moment. Maybe this is better, ignoring, deflecting, rejecting, just not fucking thinking for a goddamn second.

And it’s not like it’s quiet. He can hear the noise of The Crown & Anchor get louder as they round the corner. Colin doesn’t know how Ted handles leaving this close to the same people he lets down. Sure, there’s the very obvious, he doesn’t have any other choice. But, that doesn’t stop him from wondering, especially with Ted’s…anxiety.

That’s another thing that Colin doesn’t understand about Ted, how he handles being an American in the U.K., how he handles football when he used to coach “football,” his divorce, his kid being hundreds of miles away from him, his anxiety, how the fuck does this guy do it?

Colin finds himself idolizing the man sometimes. When he finds himself weak, he thinks about Ted, how strong he is, how I could never be him. There’s no way Colin could last a second in Ted’s position. He doesn’t have the guts. If his friends told him to punch the new kid for sitting in their spot, he did it, so they didn’t beat him instead. When Jamie laughed at Colin roughing up Nate, he did it more so that he could get any sense of validation.

And when someone saw him, actually looked, well that scared the shit out of him.

Colin was a piece of shit. He wasn’t a strong and capable man. He’d been lying to himself this whole time, who did he think he was, did he think –

“Want to come up?” There standing in front of Ted’s flat, Colin hadn’t even realized they had stopped,

Wringing his hands together, he starts to move away, “I should probably – I’ve taken up a lot of your time, I don’t –”

Ted smiles and opens up the door, “Nonsense, mi casa es su casa, comprende?” He walks in, and Colin doesn’t feel like fighting the man,

Just go in for five minutes and get out.

It turns out heating water in a kettle takes six. Colin doesn’t remember asking for tea.

“See that’s another thing I don’t get about you guys – well I guess you wouldn’t be included in the proverbial you guys since you’re from Wales – but still you drink this stuff right?” Ted had been talking nonstop since they sat down and didn’t plan on stopping any time soon, it seemed, “This darn thing is so loud! It’s worse than the sound of my alarm clock, and that is something I thought I would never say.”

Colin nods along, accepting the warm cup with what he hopes is a smile. However, it doesn’t seem too convincing because something in Ted’s expression changes, and as he sits back down on the couch, Colin can hear the conversation playing out before Lasso even opens his mouth.

“How’s the tea?” Well, that’s not exactly what he was expecting. He looks down at the tea in his hands, takes a sip, and brings it back down to his lap,

“If I’m being honest, it tastes like shit.”

Ted lets out a barking laugh, “So you agree!”

“Coach, I think it’s just the way you make it.” There’s no way he’s giving up the cup, though. The warmth is grounding him, reminding him where he is, reminding him that he’s alive and breathing.

“No,” Lasso shakes his head firmly, “you just need to experience the taste of a good American cup of coffee and then y’all might finally get off your high horses.”

That gets Colin to smile, truly finally. Another one of Lasso’s powers, to make any situation into a lighthearted one, except that’s probably going to end soon.

“Now Colin, I don’t want to make you talk about anything you don’t want to, but I do want you to know that you’re always welcome to talk to me, or Coach Beard, or even Kent. He might fight you for a bit but you he’s a real good listener when it comes down to it.”

The grip on the mug gets tighter with each word, “It’s my own problem, Coach.”

The hand on his shoulder comes out of nowhere, and Colin almost jumps out of his skin. Ted instantly takes it off, “Sorry ’bout that. But Colin you’ve got to know that that’s a whole lot of horse crap right? No one’s asking you to keep everything to yourself, you have a right to share how you’re feeling, there’s nothing wrong with having emotions.”

Obviously, Colin wants to scream. Everyone has emotions. He’s not an idiot. He remembers crying at the television the first time he saw Fox and the Hound when he was six. And there was anger throughout his teenage years, the silent tears he let out in the shower when he knew no one could hear. The happiness he felt when he was scouted for Cardiff. The hurt when all of the players looked to him as the reason for their loss.

He knew them all: relief, pain, excitement, lust, guilt, dread, apprehension, delight, and joy.

Except, fuck “I know that! I know that it’s just….” The cup has started to lose warmth, and his palms have begun to sweat.

And Ted is still sitting there, waiting for Colin to do something. Spill his guts? Tell the truth, the whole truth? Tell Lasso his entire life story, with all the gory, dirty details. And then what? Ted will give him a pat on the back, and then he’ll be gone, taking everything that Colin told him with him. Walking around with this knowledge, knowing who Colin is, who he is, Colin won’t be able to do anything about it.

“What’s bothering you?” It’s like he’s back in Dr. Fieldstone’s office, except it’s the first session, and Colin is torn between spilling everything or keeping it surface level. At least it was her job. She had equal amounts of dirt on everyone, she had gone to school, and it felt nice to talk to her. But this, this was different. Lasso was just his coach. No one was paying him to do this.

So, Colin retreats, “I don’t want to talk about it.” The cup is cold now. He stole the warmth but can’t feel where it went.

Ted nods, “Alright, I can take a hint when it’s right in front of me,” he slaps his knees and groans as he stands in the way anyone over the age of 30 seems to do, “Well I’m gonna hit the hay, feel free to take over the couch if you’d like. There’s blankets in the hall closet if you need some extras.” And with a wave, Ted walks out of the room.

The man is truly an enigma to Colin. Anyone else in his position would have pushed and pried and prodded. Maybe it’s because Lasso knows…not that Colin gets panic attacks or,

He doesn’t want to think about anything at the moment, so he takes off his shoes and curls up on the couch, letting the sounds of the city sing him to sleep.

Ted Lasso is many great things, but a quiet host is not one of those. Colin’s eyes adjust to the room’s brightness as his ears are bombarded with the noise of the radio playing the current hits. Honestly, his senses are overloaded, and Colin wants to turn around and go back to sleep or just walk out of the flat altogether.

Pulling out his phone, he’s bombarded with multiple texts from all of the guys talking about their plans for the weekend and Isaac asking him if he wants to go clubbing tonight. Of course he doesn’t, but he also doesn’t want to give Isaac any reason to ask him what’s been going on. So, he replies with a quick “sure” and finally makes his way off the couch over to the counter.

Coach puts a plate in front of him, full of a stack of pancakes. He stares at it for a beat too long when Ted puts his hands on his hips, “Now don’t tell me you’re gonna turn down some of my famous buttermilk pancakes?”

Colin picks up a fork and digs in, they're not as good as his nan’s, but they’ll do. Ted sits down next to him and starts eating as well. It’s all very comfortable, almost too comfortable.

“So, you got any plans for the weekend?” Lasso says through a mouth full of food. Colin almost cringes at the display,

“Uh, yeah. Me and the lads are going to a club tonight – you’re welcome to come if you want!” And then openly cringes at himself.

Lasso laughs, “I don’t think you really want to party with an old fogey like me, and I’ve got plans myself.” If there’s a slight blush to his face, Colin pretends not to notice.

And here comes the part that Colin hates, not knowing when to leave. Is now the right time? Right after eating, or should he wait till Ted is done, or should Colin wait for him to offer to make a cup of coffee, or –

Colin hates this part, “Thanks for the breakfast and the – letting me crash on your couch….”

Ted is finishing up his plate, glancing at Colin before telling him, “You can leave if you want to Colin, I’m not gonna hold you hostage.”

“Right! Right, I’ll – uh….” Quickly he wipes his hands on his jeans before taking both of their plates and washing the syrup off of them as best he can before running over to the couch to put on his trainers.

As he’s walking towards the door, Ted calls out from behind him, still sitting at the counter, “I’m always here to talk Colin, about anything.”

And for a brief moment, Colin wants to tell him everything.

So he leaves with a quick nod and wave, checking his phone for info about the club Isaac wants to go to, and heads home, thinking one single thought,

I’m getting laid tonight.

Chapter Text

The music is loud, and there are too many people, and Colin wishes he had just stayed home. Isaac hasn’t stopped looking at him with those “please talk to me” eyes, and Colin has made it his mission to stay as far away from him as possible tonight. Staying at the bar and observing the crowd while sipping on his (fifth? Sixth? Tenth?) drink.

He’s not precisely prowling. Colin’s never been one for the pick-up artist techniques like Jamie is – was, whatever. Everyone was changing in front of him, even Jamie. The hothead who didn’t follow anyone’s rules but his own was quietly turning down potential partners by the dozen. It was highly irritating. 

It felt as if everyone was moving forward while Colin was dragged further and further backward.

The whiskey burns as it goes down, Colin motions for another as a tall blonde make their way over.

“Haven’t seen you ’round here before.” The guy is cocky, arrogance oozing out of his pores, his fake posh accent grating at Colin’s nerves, and he almost gags at the amount of cologne on the man.

“Didn’t this place open up like, yesterday?” But he’s trying to get laid, and this is the first guy to approach him all night that wasn’t absolutely pissed out of his mind. Beggars can’t be choosers.

The guy smiles while trying to get the attention of the bartender, failing miserably, “You know, my buddy owns this place, I could give you a tour.”

Colin spares a glance over to where the team had been sitting, smiling and laughing, trying to forget last night’s loss. Acting like proper friends, and Colin couldn’t feel further from them, “Yeah, sure.” Another whiskey down. Let’s get this over with.

The guy – Leo “like the lion, you know?” – has been talking, and not in the way that Lasso talks forever, or the way that Dani talks about football, or how Isaac talks about the beauty in children’s cartoons, but in the way that he is actively trying to prove how much better he is than everyone else, including Colin. Which he finds a bit weird, seeing as he’s supposed to be being wooed,

“Ah, here we are!” Leo opens the door to a private lounge, “What do you say we order a few drinks and –”

Colin puts a hand on his chest, pushing him back into the couch while climbing onto his lap, “Or we could just skip to the good part.”

“Yeah we can do that.”

They’re in the middle of making out, and Colin is trying his best to get into the mood when Leo pushes him away,

“Wait, I don’t even know your name.” And this is the part he dreads about hook-ups, just another person who wants to know him. Who knows him at his most vulnerable, who could call up any random blogger or gossip magazine and tell them all about their juicy escapades with the scandalous football player.

“Does it really matter?” Of course, he could always give a fake name. It wouldn’t feel right to hear his partner moan someone else’s name, but if it gets them off his back, what can you do?

Leo takes a moment before shaking his head, and Colin goes back into it, desperately trying to get any friction between them. It seems to be working for Leo, the man is basically coming untouched, and they haven’t even done anything. Colin, on the other hand, has barely felt any movement. It’s all quiet on the southern front,

He can’t get hard.

There’s a flash of panic. Has he finally become impotent? Will he never be able to have sex again?

As he’s spiraling, Leo is trying and failing to get a moan out of Colin. Kissing at his neck with a wet, slobbery mouth, and it’s just making the whole thing much less sexy to Colin. Then something happens, Leo licks a stripe against his pulse point, the first good thing he’s done all night, and Colin remembers how good it felt when Jan did that. How Jan held him, how he breathed into him, how he caressed his body like it was made out of fucking porcelain, how he fucked him till he couldn’t see straight.

And then there’s no more platinum blonde Leo, there’s just dirty blonde Jan, and Colin finally feels something. A mix of nausea and arousal, nothing he feels like unpacking currently.

Trying to get this over as quickly as possible, he grabs Leo, unbuttoning his pants and his own, spitting into his hand, and furiously tries to get this man to cum as soon as he can. Leo was already halfway there, coming onto his own shirt as Colin imagines Jan in his place, getting off sooner than he would like to admit.

“That was – wow.” Leo is still sitting there, lazing in his post-semi-sex euphoria as Colin tries to smooth out his shirt, “Can I have your number?”

“Absolutely not.” And with that Colin leaves the lounge, heading straight to the bathroom where he pukes his guts out. Stumbling out of the stall, he can see Isaac in the corner of the room, arms crossed,

“Who was that?”

Colin huffs, “Who are you, my mum?” And runs his mouth under the tap, trying to get rid of the bile taste and trying to drown out anything Isaac is about to say.

Except he waits for Colin to finish, of course, and walks over with some paper towels for him, “Did you break up with Jan?”

Colin takes them, begrudgingly, wiping his mouth and face, “We weren’t dating.”

Isaac stares him down.

“We weren’t! We were just…having fun.” The words haunt him, Jan haunts him, Colin wonders if it will be like this forever.

Isaac just keeps staring.

“Would you just say something? Tell me how much I fucked up a good thing! Tell me that I could have been happy! That I fucked up with Jan as much as I fuck up everything else in my goddamn life!” He’s yelling, but he doesn’t think the sounds of his screams could be heard over the sounds of the music, and it’s not like he really cares.

There’s a beat before Isaac wraps his arms around him, “You can still be happy, bruv.” Colin clings to his jacket, inhaling the scent of tequila and cologne,

“I can’t, Isaac. I fucked up, I told him –” His breath shudders, and Isaac pulls away from him,

“If Jan is half the man I think he is, he wouldn’t hold what you said against you.”

Another breath, he won’t have a repeat of last night in front of his best friend inside of a club he can’t even remember the name of, “I don’t deserve him.”

“Neither does he.” And Colin has to whip his head up at that. What the hell gives Isaac the right to talk shit about Jan when the man isn’t even here to defend himself? Isaac can apparently feel the tension emanating off of Colin, “Jan is a dick. He’s blunt, and annoying at times. He doesn’t know when to savor the moment, or when to fill dead air. And he also has a borderline unhealthy obsession with true crime.” Isaac stares him down, “He’s not a perfect being Colin, he’s flawed, he’s human, just like you.” Enunciating each point with a poke to his chest.                                  

But he’s Jan, he’s not Colin, the hand of fate cradled them in separate arms, and yet, “I know that.”

“Do you?” Isaac fixes him with another look, and Colin nods,

“Yes, captain.” An attempt at some light humor, otherwise known as trying to change the subject,

It doesn’t work because Isaac grips his shoulder (not like Drew did, what feels like eons ago), “You have the right to be happy, just like Jan, like everyone does. You’re not a serial killer, bruv, you’re just a person who made a few mistakes in his life.”

He has to look to the floor after that, or Colin might start full-on balling right there, “Thank you…captain.” And this time, it’s sincere, truly. There’s no one Colin would want in his place, not even Roy fucking Kent. He pulls Isaac in for a hug this time, a short but no less affirming one than the last, “I’m gonna go, I’ve gotta sort a few things out.”

Isaac raises his eyebrows, “Are you talking about….”

“No, not yet, or – That’s what I’m going to try and figure out,” Slipping out of the bathroom, he calls out a final, “I’ll text you later.”

Now Colin is a man on a much different mission than when he walked into the club.

Chapter Text

There's a lot of things Colin wishes he was. Things he wishes he could change, memories he wishes weren't his, words he wishes he never said, fists he wish he had never thrown. His secondary school years were filled with blood, sweat, and tears (literally), and he wishes it wasn't.

He wishes that he could have asked Oliver out when he was 16, even just as friends. He wishes he could have told Glenn, Lloyd, and Drew they were fucking dicks. He wishes he stood up for himself and for everyone they terrorized.

But it's not how his life turned out. He wasn't that person. He was Colin Hughes, left-wing for Richmond and chronic idiot. Sometimes he did stuff he hated and said things he wished he didn't. But he did them, and he said them, and the present him was left to deal with the fallout.

Currently, he was struggling with whether or not to send Jan a text or wait. Would it be better to put it off for the weekend? Wait to talk to him face-to-face at the Club, and should he do it before or after practice? Maybe he could ask him to dinner or –

"We're here mate." The driver doesn't even bother turning around to face him, and Colin shrugs on his jacket while stepping out,

"Thanks."

He's practically sober by now and knows exactly what he's doing…sort of. The plan he had formulated was slowly falling apart as he headed towards Ted's flat when he spots a highly familiar-looking man standing in front of The Crown & Anchor,

"Are you Trent Crimm?"

The guy looks behind him, then points to himself, "Are you speaking to me?"

"Who else would I be talking to you absolute knob of a reporter?! What gave you the right to write that about –"

"Wow, lets slow our roll there Colin!" Ted steps in between them, and Colin hadn't realized how close to Trent he had gotten, "Trent doesn't work for The Independent anymore,"

Trent smiles, "I'm independent."

"Exactly," Ted looks back at Trent and then to Colin, "So there's nothing to worry about."

"But…he wrote that article about you?" Honestly, this whole situation felt like walking in on your parents, "And he's… Wait what are you two doing together?"

"I'm going to go inside, why don't you two catch up." Trent pats Lasso on the shoulder before heading inside.

After watching the door close, Colin presses again, "Why are you hanging out with Trent Crimm?" Of course, there was another reason he came to see Ted, but now this was the most pressing issue at hand, and could you blame him?

Ted looks at the ground and then at the sky and then at Colin, "You wanna go on a walk?"

Colin shrugs, and they head off.

They're sitting on the park bench when Ted finally speaks up,

"So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?" Avoiding the obvious, Colin was a master at the technique, and it seemed Lasso might be too. He'd like to reverse it back on Ted, but he's almost positive they would be stuck in an infinite loop of diversion,

"I wanted to…talk…about the – the thing…."

Lasso looks at him expectantly and patiently. Colin feels like a child; his issues are his own, Ted has his own worries,

But he said to talk to him…

There's iron in his mouth, and Colin realizes that he's torn a piece of skin off his bottom lip, a habit he thought was long gone. If Lasso notices, he doesn't say anything. Instead, he takes a breath and opens his mouth, "So, yesterday I broke – ended things with someone and I think it was a bad idea."

"Why do you say that?" There's something about Lasso's accent that's oddly comforting, like it could slowly erode the defenses of anybody, including Colin's,

"Because I've never acted like that after ending things. It was the first time that I felt like I was literally tearing a piece of my body off," He laughs, and it comes out rough, "I feel like I'm going crazy, Coach."

"Love does that to a person."

And Colin wants to tell him he's wrong, it's too soon for that, that he couldn't possibly be in love,

"When I met my ex-wife, everything made sense. Like the stars aligned, you know?" Colin nods along, but Ted isn't looking at him, "I know it's a cheesy thing to say, but it really was love at first sight," He sighs, "I had to work at saying it though, but I knew, I always knew."

Colin feels a lump in his throat, "But I barely know…them."

"Does it matter?"

"What?"

"I mean, nobodies asking you to marry them, all you have to do is date."

"It's…not that simple." It doesn't even sound convincing, even to Colin.

Lasso shifts, so he's facing Colin straight on, "Colin, can I be straight up with you?"

"Uh, yeah sure Coach go ahead."

 "Are you worried about not knowing them," Ted pauses, giving Colin an out, "or them knowing you?" The air cuts through his jacket, Colin wraps it tighter around him, ready to burst into a sprint at the direct accusation lobbed his way. But he stays seated, staring at his trainers as if they'll answer for him, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable Colin I just –"

"I'm terrified of them knowing who I am." His voice is small, and he feels small, still unable to look Ted in the eyes, "What if they find out that I…I hurt people Coach. I'm not a good person, and when they look at me I feel good," Colin shakes his head, "But it's a lie."

"Hey, look at me," And for a second, it sounds as if Led Tasso has come out. Colin immediately looks up, "I saw you messing with Nate, and I didn't stop it. Does that make me a bad person?"

"Well, no 'cause you wanted Kent to do it right?" His head throbs at the memory of being headbutted.

"Yes, but that's not the point. The point is I could have stopped it and I didn't, because I knew that deep down you weren't a bad person." Lasso places a hand on his shoulder, "I knew you wouldn't go too far; you were just a little lost, and that's okay."

Isaac's words bounce around in his head, "Because I'm human, right?"

Ted smiles at that, "You stole the word's right out of my mouth."

It's all very comforting, but there's still something eating away at him, "But I really hurt him – them – I mean,"

"You know I don't care about who you date Colin." The hand still on his shoulder squeezes him before leaving.

"Right yeah, sorry it's just…a habit," Colin takes a shaky breath, "It's just, I told him that we were just casual, that it didn't mean anything to me. What if he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore?"

"I find it highly unlikely that anybody who knows you, really knows you, could find it in their heart to dislike you let alone hate you."

Lasso wasn't there, didn't see the hurt on his face, "Coach, I told him I point blank didn't want to be with him, I don't know if there's any coming back from that." Colin doesn't know how he would have handled it if the roles were reversed.

Ted looks off to the side, "Well, I don't think your giving Jan enough credit." It comes off so casual that Colin almost doesn't catch it, almost,

"What did you just say?"

"Well, I said – Oh," A multitude of emotions run through Ted's face, and his mouth opens and closes as he tries to come up with an excuse as to how he could know Colin was talking about Jan, "Alright I'm going to be upfront, I knew you and Jan had a thing since the beginning,"

"Excuse me?!"

"I guess not exactly the beginning, beginning," The other man chuckles as if he is not currently turning Colin's world upside down, "I mean, I ran into Jan when he left the boot room, and then you were in there..." Then, he shrugs, "I just put two and two together."

Now it's Colin's turn to run through every emotion known to man, all while trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest, "Am I gonna get kicked off the team?"

Ted immediately whips around, "What? Colin no that's never going to happen, I swear to you."

And that stills his beating heart, "Thanks Coach."  Though Colin can't let himself be happy for long, "But even if me and…Jan we're together," It seems like such a fantasy to even imagine a life they were together. Colin sighs, "What if the fans hated it, hated us? And what if I ruined the team? And what if –"

"Colin, that's a load of crap, excuse my language. And even if for some reason there were fans that found out and they left, who needs 'em? We don't want to associate ourselves with people like that."

"But –"

Ted fixes him with a stare, "No more of that either, no 'buts' no 'what ifs,' just follow your heart Mr. Hughes."

"You make it sound easy," It's a bit sarcastic, but Colin can't help but feel his heart swell, "Could I possibly sleep on your couch again tonight? I'm a bit tired."

"Of course!" Ted smiles, even brighter than previously, if it was possible, "Why don't we head back then, if you're ready?"

Colin takes a second to stare up at the sky before standing up, "Yeah, I'm ready."

As they're walking back and the pub comes back into view, Colin pauses, swinging back around and causing Lasso to stumble in the process, "Also, the Trent thing…."

"Oh that! Well, we're just two amigos, two compadres hanging out nothing going on there!" They're in the front when Ted quickly shoves his keys into Colin's hand, "Why don't you take my key and head up Colin I'll see you in a bit!"

And as the last word leaves his mouth, Lasso swings back into the pub, where Trent is waiting with a half-empty pint and a full one. The smiles on the two men's faces are so domestic that Colin has to look away, keeping a quiet smile to himself as he walks back to Ted's flat.

Before he puts the key in the door, his phone starts to vibrate. Colin almost ignores it, but it's probably Isaac wondering why he hasn't checked in yet, except when he looks at his phone, three letters stare back at him,

JAN

Either the cold air or the complete lack of his brain processing what is going on, but he misses the answer button five times in the ten seconds the phone rings. Colin unlocks his phone as quickly as he can, calling Jan back, hoping it wasn't a fluke.

It rings for an uncomfortably long time, and Colin hopes he won't be sent to the pit of voicemails when the line picks up.

There's a long silence before Colin speaks up, "Jan, what did –"

 "I called you on accident." His voice comes through deep, and his accent almost sounds more pronounced and slurred, as if he had just woken up (or had stayed up all night).

Colin stays standing in front of the door, a free hand in his pocket, "Right…." He steels his breath, "Jan I want to –"

"I've got to go I have…things to do."

"Wait! Please just hear me out!" If they were in person, Colin would be down on his knees.

Jan sighs, "Why should I?"

At least he's staying on the line, "I could explain better in person? I promise I won't waste your time." And if Colin crosses his fingers, that's between him and the cat that has been staring at him from the alley.

"It's one in the morning Colin."

"I know –" He really didn't, "We can meet tomorrow, or not we could –" He's interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text appears with an address, from Jan, "Wait what?"

"That is my address, I'll be up for another hour." Colin hears rustling on the other end, "Goodbye."

He doesn't have a chance to say it back, but that doesn't wipe the smile from his face. Sprinting back to the pub, he throws the keys back at Lasso and Trent exiting the pub, "Sorry something came up!"

Now Colin has a thirty-minute car ride to formulate the best apology he can imagine, it shouldn't be too hard.

Chapter Text

Standing in front of a door had never been this hard before.

The worst part is being stuck in between just wanting to get it over with and the physical inability to raise his hand to ring the doorbell. So instead, Colin has spent the last five minutes pacing in front of Jan’s door.

At least he hopes it’s his door and not some random home address the dutchman sent him to.

He’s in the middle of rehearsing (mumbling) what to say to Jan when the door opens, and Colin immediately freezes like a deer in headlights. Or a player that’s about to be hit by a stray ball.

They’d only be away from each other for less than a day, but it might as well have been years with the distance between them. Jan stands there, arms folded with the same cold eyes he had when they first met, when they were strangers.

“Hey.” It’s the only thing he can think of to say, and Jan gives him a nod of acknowledgment but makes no move to let Colin in. Taking that as a sign that he won’t get anywhere dodging the obvious, Colin heads straight into it, “I’m sorry.”

Jan raises an eyebrow, but that’s the extent of his reaction. So Colin steps forward, “I’m so – fuck Jan I don’t know what else to say, how else to explain it to you! I’m sorry for what I said to you, I’m sorry for shutting you out, I’m sorry, okay?”

Colin’s standing there, basically with his heart in his hand, and Jan finally uncrosses his arms, “Would you like to come inside?”

All of the muscles he didn’t know he was tensing finally release, “Yes please.”

Crossing the threshold, Colin takes in the flat, and it’s exactly how he expected it to look. A minimal-looking place with minimal personal touches. There are a few rogue framed photos with people that look eerily similar to Jan, and a couple of small figurines Colin guess are from the Netherlands.

It makes sense, seeing as Jan was one of the newer players, especially since he was from another country, that his flat would be barren. But Colin can’t help thinking back to how he started here in Richmond and wondered if Jan would stay long enough for him to decorate.

Just another thing to add to the long list of reasons why he should run as fast as he can away from Jan. Except for the nagging voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Coach Lasso keeps his feet planted.

Brushing past him to the kitchen, Jan pours himself a cup of tea before asking, “Do you want something to drink?”

“I’m fine.” Colin hasn’t moved from his spot in front of the door, “Jan I –” Stopping immediately when Jan holds up a hand,

“Before you talk, I need you to know that I will not keep doing this with you. I won’t let you treat me like a fling, Colin. I let you do it in the beginning, but I thought it was because you just needed some time.” Jan keeps himself behind the counter, a barrier between them,

“I understand.”

“Do you?” He makes his way over, and Colin feels the smallest he’s ever been standing in front of Jan, “Because every time I talk to you, you shut me out. I tell you I like you and you tell me it was just ‘fun?’”

To hear the words again sting, “I’m sorry, Jan. It’s just,” No amount of practice can prepare him for the actual conversation, “You’re so honest, and you say what’s on your mind, and you don’t let anyone tell you what to do,” Colin sighs, “You’re everything I ever wanted to be, and – God this sounds idiotic – but being with you was a reminder of how long I had gone pretending to be something I wasn’t.”

Something in the other man’s expression softens, “What do you mean?” And Jan knows, he has to know. The man could read Colin like a book, but he wanted him to say it, so Colin obliges.

He starts at the beginning, the primary years he was terrorized by the same kids he would become friends with. How he learned to fight as a way to release all the pent-up rage he had storming around his head. The teenage years he spent ignoring the butterflies in his stomach every time another boy said his name. Then he turned around and pretended none of it ever happened, only to revert when he met Nate.

The words stutter when he brings up Nate, and Colin doesn’t want to slander the guy’s name when he isn’t there. He doesn’t even notice they’ve been sitting on the couch until Jan puts his hand on Colin’s knee, “So, do you still have that scar on your ass?”

Instantly Colin is taken out of the moment, “I tell you my whole life story and that’s what you want to talk about?”

And Jan just smiles that stupid smile, “No, but it was a good distraction wasn’t it?”

Colin sighs, “Yeah, you’re a good distraction I guess.”

They’re so close together, and there’s definitely a blush on Jan’s face, and Colin wants to feel the heat of it. So he reaches a hand up to hold it, but Jan ducks out of the way, “Colin….”

He pulls his hand back as fast as he can, “I’m sorry I thought….”

There’s something in Jan’s face he can’t read, something that Colin has noticed that has been reserved for him, “I need to know that you’re not going to shut me out again.” Jan grabs the hand Colin reached out with, “Because I really like this place, but I don’t know if I could handle being on the same team as you if we ended things like that.”

And there’s that fear again that Colin’s emotions and feelings could get in the way of what’s important. Of staying out of relegation, actually winning, and keeping the fans happy.

“I can’t tell you what future me will do,” Colin grips Jan’s hand, staring at it instead of facing Jan, “There’s so much I’m afraid of when it comes to you, but… I’m scared of losing whatever it is we have more.”

A forehead rests on his, “You won’t lose me,” Then a hand on his cheek that forces his eyes to meet another’s, “As long as your honest with me.”

“Is that a Jan thing or a…”

“It’s definitely a Dutch thing.”

They’re so close together, and Colin’s never thought he could be this happy, so he just has to ask, “May I kiss you?”

And Jan answers it with his lips on his.