Chapter Text
Jude was a terrible teacher.
He taught cultural and urban sociology at Manchester Metropolitan University; it was no wonder his degree hung proudly in the living room of the family home. He had good research topics; he could spend hours and hours researching only to realize he hadn’t made any progress at all.
That’s how terrible he was.
His students loved him. He explained things clearly -even though many days he showed up without a lesson plan- he was understanding -or maybe they just knew how to get through to him- and he enjoyed teaching his class -he always passed everyone-.
With the news of his pregnancy, he was allowed to work online for the summer courses on a seminar about… Jobe didn’t even understand it: something about the impact of the World Cup on society. Was that the perfect excuse for his brother to talk about his boyfriend?
Because yes, his brother was also the talk of the campus.
To get to that point, Jobe had to rewind his mind to the moment when the two of them were lying down watching a movie while their mom prepared something to eat. They’d made up after that disastrous World Cup moment, and what better way to enjoy their little bit of peace than with a casual chat?
“So how’d you meet that behemoth?” Jobe began, leaning against his brother’s slightly swollen belly; it made him laugh to hear the fetus kick every time he spoke ill of his other parent.
“Well,” Jude said, vaguely recalling, “I went with some friends to that pub I told you about, the one you never took me to.” He tugged on Jobe’s ear.
“Ouch,” he swatted his hand away to push him off. “I was busy, okay?”
Amid laughter, Jude continued rubbing that same ear. “We were having a few drinks, and out of nowhere they brought me a coup, and I quote,” he imitated the bartender, “‘from the star on the corner’. I didn’t believe it, but I went over to thank him; one thing led to another, and I ended up chatting with him and his friend Isabel. A few days later, he added me on Instagram, and out of the blue, he’d come visit me at the university whenever he could."
Well, that was the background.
Jobe had visited him several times at work. He always turned heads because he was a famous soccer player, but with this recent World Cup, he was sure the stares and fan frenzy would increase, and he wouldn’t be the only one affected. The sight of that two-meter-tall blond guy at the university waiting for his boyfriend caused quite a stir.
He didn’t even want to think about how people would react if they found out about the pregnancy, so he decided to indulge his brother by taking him to live with him in Rhineland for a while.
His mother was up in arms when she found out, but Jobe sold her on the plan as best he could: she wouldn’t have to bother taking care of Jude because his brother would be there for him; she could take a vacation if she wanted to.
“Didn’t you want to go to Hawaii?” Jobe said in that innocent tone he used to blackmail his mother.
“Yes, if your brother’s pregnancy gets complicated,” she pointed out, “Jobe Samuel Patrick Bellingham, I swear to God you won’t find a place on earth to hide.”
His confidence had vanished. “Yes mommy.”
Jobe didn't want to brag, but he focused on his role as a caregiver. He looked up recipes that would help the fetus develop, gave him his vitamins, bought a mattress to help his brother sleep in his awkward positions, spoiled him with those triple-chocolate cakes they sold at bakeries, and if he couldn't take care of him, he brought him along to practice.
Like that moment.
“Looks like your brother really loves his job,” Carney remarked during warm-ups, watching Jude type on his laptop while sitting in the stands.
“He enjoys it,” confirmed the youngest Bellingham, rounding his back, “though he would’ve been a great soccer player too, the best.”
“Better than you?” he teased.
“Let 's not exaggerate, Chuk.”
“So how do you get along with your brother-in-law?” he changed the subject. “Have you made up yet?”
Jobe didn’t move, widening Carney’s mischievous grin. “Ju, ju looks like someone’s still jealous of his brother-in-law.”
“I’m not jealous of my brother-in-law!” he shouted, drawing the attention of all his teammates, the coaching staff, and his brother, who simply shook his head and continued writing while muttering something that the younger brother understood to be, “It’s always the same with him.”
“Gossips!” Jobe scolded as he focused on his stretching, inwardly wishing everyone would forget this moment forever.
Damn his luck.
Half an hour later, another shout rang out from the stands. “Jobe!” his brother called out. “Mom’s asking if you’ve fed me yet or if you’re going to cook me Grandma’s meatball recipe!”
He didn’t even turn to look at him, or anyone else; he just wanted to wake up from this embarrassing dream.
“Donut!” Jude shouted, thinking he hadn’t heard him. “Mom is asking if she should send you the recipe”
He bit his lip, staring at the field.
If looks were knives, he’d be Julius Caesar.
“Donut!”
“Have mom send me the recipe!” he replied, looking up to glance at him from a distance. To hell with dignity, he’d already lost it. Let the nicknames continue for the little alpha tamed by his older omega brother.
Jude smiled as he finished typing on his cell phone.
“Are you going to make meatballs for us, too?” asked one of his teammates, genuinely excited, and Jobe had the nerve to throw the ball right in his face.
In the end, the only one he invited was Carney, well, Carney invited himself.
“So if you’re the little alpha tamed by his brother…” he couldn’t even finish the sentence because Jobe was ready to throw the spoon at him.
He was leaning against the counter, watching him cook with that apron he’d bet was originally his mother. The food didn’t smell bad; it was a blend of various spices that added flavor to the meat cooking in that broth of crushed tomatoes and basil.
“One more comment and I’ll kick you out of my house.”
Chuck rolled his eyes, bored by how bitter and uptight his friend was.
Jude was more fun.
That’s why he got up to join him on the couch. “How are classes going? Any students failing?”
“Not yet,” he replied without taking his eyes off the screen, “but if I don’t finish my lesson plans, I’m the one who’s going to fail.”
“Typical of universities.”
They both laughed.
“And how’s the baby? Jobe can’t stop talking about how thrilled he is to be spending time with his brother-in-law.”
Jude kept laughing as he shook his head. “If they ever see each other again, I’m sure I’ll have to call the police.”
“I don’t think Jobe is the kind of person who’d pull out a gun” he gave his friend a knowing look; Jobe didn’t turn around, focused on his food -or so he claimed- but Carney was sure he was listening intently.
“No, he’s the type who gets into fistfights during arguments,” Jude added. “Once he beat up a classmate two grades above him and won.”
Carney smiled with satisfaction.
“So tell me, Jude,” he said, fiddling with the drawstrings on his hoodie, “have you thought about a name for the baby?”
The question embarrassed the older man. “Well, I’ve looked at a few names; I’ve run them by Erg…”
Jobe stopped stirring his soup.
“Ju, ju, ju, you’re going to love what a certain bird told me.”
The food started to burn.
“But Jobe told me he’d love it if you named the baby Jobe Samuel Patrick Bellingham Jr.”
The fire alarm started to go off.
Jude stared at him in astonishment, a mixture of embarrassment and surprise; his lips trembled. He wanted to answer, but no words came out, he looked like a fish out of water.
Skeptically, he turned to his brother. “Is that true, Jobe?”
His brother turned carefully; no words were necessary. His expression alone gave everything away. With that trembling smile, furrowed eyebrows, and that mischievous gleam in his eyes, Jude sighed. He ran a hand over his eyes to wipe away the tiredness and over his lips to remove the dry skin, keeping a close eye on the two players until he spoke:
“We were thinking of naming him Odin.”
Both shouted, “Jobe Jr. sounds better!”
It seemed like the whole Dortmund team wanted him to be named Jobe Jr. from his teammates to the coaching staff and even the ball boys. What was so special about naming a baby who hadn’t even been born yet after his uncle?
“It’s just that he looks like his father,” Lerma remarked when Jude walked into the locker room before one of the games to ask for an explanation.
“He’s always on his phone looking up how to take care of a baby,” added Kaba. “Until we saw he was searching for baby names and…” He didn’t want to finish that sentence.
“And how to get rid of his brother-in-law,” said Albert with a knowing smile.
Is this what happens when you don’t set limits for your brother? the Englishman wondered to himself, biting his lip.
“So what? Will you guys cover for him if he does it?”
The whole team nodded.
He cursed in English.
He bit his lip so hard that blood began to ooze from one of his cuts; he was sweating. The looks on their faces shifted to confusion and fear; he felt like the world was spinning, or was it him? Why was he on the ground?
His mother’s infamous warning came true immediately; within a few minutes, Jude was being taken to the regional hospital. The game began without Jobe, who ran toward the ambulance while yanking Carney by his dreadlocks; because if anyone was going to be punished for this situation, it would be both of them.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Jobe was the next to break down when the doctor delivered the diagnosis: “Your brother has early-stage preeclampsia.”
That didn’t make any sense.
He’d gone with him to all the checkups, made sure his brother was comfortable, he’d even fed him those damn vitamins by hand! What had he done wrong?!
“It looks like, based on the ultrasound, the baby is showing signs of being macrosomic. What kind of diet have you been following? His blood sugar levels are through the roof.”
“I…” Jobe swallowed hard. “I used to buy his cakes, he was always craving one, those chocolate ones…”
The doctor’s gaze made the strength he thought he had crumble.
Apparently, he wasn’t as good a brother as he’d hoped.
The news of the hospitalization paralyzed the whole family, from his mother, who was flying in from Hawaii (and he was sure she was the one piloting the plane), to his dad, who would be the co-pilot in his mother’s in-flight heist.
“And I talked to Erling,” his mother warned in that tone that scared him so much, “and you better watch out, Samuel, or you’ll be making one of your scenes.”
He could do nothing but wait.
And hoped that his brother would forgive him.
In the early morning, as he dozed off in the emergency room, his senses were suddenly alerted. The scent of applewood woke him; he recognized that smell, it could belong to no one else but…
“Oh, Jobe,” Halaand didn’t even give him a minute to process it before he had him in his arms. “Is Jude okay? I couldn’t get in touch with you to tell you that Jude has a certain fondness for triple-chocolate cakes, he always manages to hide one in the fridge.”
But Jobe simply held his arms to create some distance. “Is it true you want to name the baby Odin?”
Of all questions in the mind of Jobe...
Why that one?
The question confused the norwegian “No? Theo and Nora we were thinking… Odin… it’s a personal joke between the two of us because the baby is demanding.”
Jobe gave him a punch.
May Jude forgot them.