Archive of Our Own

It was a cool autumn day in Birmingham when Jobe's life was ruined. He was sixteen, playing for Birmingham City. He had high hopes for his future, high hopes for Jude's who was, at the time, in Germany playing for Dortmund.

It was a break. Jude came back to Birmingham, all fresh-faced hardened with determination. Seemed like he found his calling in Dortmund. But then, Jobe noticed, he started spending too much time on his phone, more than Jobe remembered. Suddenly, time for FIFA was shortened and, sure, Jude was eighteen now, but they had made a promise— they'll never be too old for FIFA.

Jode also noticed that his brother laughed more, louder too, like everything on earth was absolutely hilarious. He'd smile at his phone with a stupid grin, sometimes Jobe would even hear him sigh lovingly to himself. Don't get him wrong, he likes seeing him brother happy, but you can't blame him for being curious as to what the hell could possibly have happened in Dortmund to cause such a change.

So on that fateful day, the day everything started, he knocked on Jude's room, heard a 'come in!' and upon entering, was met with his brother lying stomach down on the bed, phone to his ear as he giggled, feet in the air.

For a second, Jobe paused. "Uh…am I interrupting something?"

Jude turned to look at him, shifted his gaze away from the pillow he had been fidgeting with. Biting his lip, Jude murmured into the phone, "Sorry, give me a sec," before raising both his brows at Jude. "What do you want?"

Jobe blinked. "Who you talking to?"

A sheepish grin spread on his brother's lips and he glanced away, shy. Then Jobe heard the slight murmur of someone over the phone and Jude giggled again, sounding like a teenager, before he shoved his face into the pillow, his feet flailing in the air.

Alright then…

He laid there for a solid couple of seconds, Jobe watched when he finally lifted his head, huffed "Shut up!" into the phone, stupid smile still on his lips. Then he glanced to Jobe, realised he's was still in his room, standing with his mouth gaping and staring blankly at him, and Jude mouthed 'later' before he shooed him out.

Jobe shut the door with a click and, like a good younger brother, the first thing he did was tell mum.

"Mum, think Jude's talking to someone," he said upon entering the kitchen. The smell of herbs wafted in the air and his stomach almost growled.

She responded with a hum, not looking away from the chopping board as she prepared dinner. "He has friends, Jobe."

"No like talking to someone." He went to lean against the counter. Finally, she looked up, furrowed her brows.

"What do you mean?"

"He's in his room right now giggling and blushing over the phone," Jobe pointed an accusing finger towards Jude's direction. He watched her face twist into consideration. He made a line with his lips, shrugged, "Think you should do something about it."

His mother just huffed, turned back to the chopping board. "Your brother is old enough to date, Jobe. As long as he focuses on football."

Jobe gawked and then the door to Jude's room opened. He walked into the kitchen, dopey smile on his face. Jobe scowled at it.

"Why do you look like that?"

His brother just rolled his eyes but the smile never left. "Just say you're jealous."

"Who would be jealous of you—"

"Enough, Jobe," their mother's voice cut in the air. She dried her hands with a towel, leaned against the counter with a small smile while Jude went to sit at the dinner table, phone still in his hand. He opened it and immediately his fingers were tapping on the screen.

"So," she started and Jobe felt excitement brew in his body. He rested his head on his chin, leaned on the counter, shit-eating grin on his face, and his eyes never left Jude. "Heard you're talking to someone?"

His brother whipped his head up towards them and his face dropped. Jude stared at their mother with eyes that were so wide Jobe thought they'd pop out of his head. Then he turned away from their mum, set his eyes on Jobe and yelled, "What did you tell her?!"

"The truth," Jobe smirked.

"I'm not mad," their mother started, easing the panic Jobe could see beginning to seep into Jude's face. "I just wish you had told me you were dating someone."

"I just—"Jude stammered, eyes darted around like there was something in the kitchen that he could use as an excuse. He found nothing and Jobe watched his shoulders slump. Jude fixed his gaze on the floor. "I..didn't know how to tell you."

His brother suddenly looked nervous, concerningly so. He cracked his knuckles, shifted on his seat. His leg started shaking and Jobe could see a sweat form on his forehead. He turned to mum and saw a concerned pinch in her brows. "Jude, what's wrong, honey?"

Jude shook his head, gathered a breath like he was preparing himself before he blurted out, "It's a guy."

Jobe felt his eyebrows raise past his hairline.

For a second there's just silence. No one knew what to say.

But then their mother just laughed, walked towards Jude and gathered him in her arms, "Was that it? That was what kept you from telling us?"

Jude covered his face with his hands, groans in embarrassment. Suddenly, Jobe felt a pit of guilt form. Did he just force Jude to come out? He stared at his brother, watched as their mother pat his back and told him that she was proud of him for telling her. Jobe bit his lip.

"I'm—" the words caught in his throat. He saw Jude peak at him through his fingers. Jobe swallowed, "I'm sorry. Didn't…mean to out you."

There was no answer. Jude just stared at him for a beat and it made Jobe shift on his feet. Then, he opened his arms, smirked at him and said, "Come here."

And so Jobe did, hugged his brother so tight he could have popped a rib. Their mother just laughed, ruffled both their hair before pinching Jobe's ear, reminded him to, "Stay out of your brother's business now, yeah?"

To Jude's satisfied smirk, Jobe just pinched him, savoured the yelp, and demanded, "Show me the guy."

"Oh yeah! What's his name?" Their mother clapped her hands together, excitement on her face.

Jude looked away shyly, a grin began forming on his lips again. Does this guy look funny or something? It seemed like Jude was always smiling when he thought of him.

But then Jude just clicked open his phone. Jobe saw a split second of his chat with someone, someone he assumed was the boyfriend given the various text messages and abundant red heart emojis.

Finally, Jude turned the phone around and Jobe squinted. "Wait," he started. "That's Haaland."

"Yeah," Jude sighed, like the name was a loving memory.

"That's your teammate."

"Yeah."

Jobe turned to his mother who continued to stare at the photo, eyebrows slightly raised but other than that, her face showed neutrality. Then she turned to Jude, smiled. "He seems very nice."

"Erl's great," Jude smiled. "Been dating for around a month now. He drives me around, cause…you know."

"Still can't drive," Jobe muttered and he got a slap on the arm. Their mother sighed but then she leaned in to kiss Jude's cheek.

"I'm proud of you, love," she said before she turned back to the kitchen to finish up dinner. Jude practically beamed.

Then he turned to Jobe, eyes sparkling and almost teary, looking so hopeful and happy. Jobe couldn't rain on his parade. Besides, he barely knew Haaland, just knew Jude and him played together. Erling could be an awesome guy.

"He seems good," Jobe had said, smiled when his brother jumped to hug him again. He squeezed back. Perhaps Erling is a good match for Jude, he had thought.

Jobe should have known.

It was amiss a beautiful warm February, Jude and Jobe had just gotten back from a day out. Jude's on break again and Jobe insisted on going to the beach, enjoying the cool waters and perhaps convincing Jude to buy him a cocktail.

A beautiful swim and a piña colada later, they made their way back home, beach gear in the car and music in the air, windows rolled down to let in the cool breeze.

"So, you and Erling doing anything today?" It's Valentines day, as shown through the various red heart balloon tied around the beach and plethora of couples that Jobe had to squeeze past today.

His brother sighs, pouts ever so slightly. "Long distance is such a pain in the ass. Think we'll call later though, gotta read my letter out to him."

Oh yeah, Erling's in Norway with his own family right now. Jobe raises an eyebrow, "You wrote a letter?"

"Mhm, even decorated the cover and everything."

Jobe nods. "How long is it?"

Next to him, his brother tenses. "Uh, not that long."

Jobe glances over to him when they're at a red light, pinches his brows. "Right…"

"Just like a couple of pages." Jude nervously shifts in his seat, flickers a look over to Jobe and darts his eyes away when he sees him staring at him blankly.

Jobe sighs, "Just tell me."

He sees him swallow, fidget with loose thread on his shirt. Then he murmurs, "Twenty."

A pause.

"Excuse me?"

"Five."

Oh thank god. Jobe deflates and chuckles, presses on the pedal when the lights turn green. "Yeah, knew you were taking the piss—"

"Twenty five."

Jobe slowly turns to him. Jude bites his lip, glances over and glares, "Eyes on the road."

He turns back just as slowly, feeling like he was in a stimulation. This can't be real. His brother cannot have written a twenty five page long letter for his boyfriend of barely a year.

The rest of the ride is silent. Jobe doesn't even know what to say. Jude seemed perfectly content on just sitting there, staring out into the sunset, completely oblivious to the pure bafflement coursing through his brother.

They make it home. Jobe goes to pull into their driveway, can already imagine dinner and another night of perhaps some FIFA with Jude. Maybe if he wins, he'll make him show all twenty five pages of the letter. Better yet, he'll make Jude read them all to him. Seriously though, how much can someone possibly have to say?

But something stops him, stops him right in his tracks as he turns into the driveway. Next to him, he hears Jude gasp.

Oh my fucking god.

Roses. And a shit ton of them. At least a dozen giant boxes of roses are planted outside their front door. Jobe turns to his brother just as Jude fumbles to unlock his seatbelt, jumps out of the car and runs towards them, a skip in his step and a big bright smile on his face.

Jobe parks, gets out and locks the car, starts his walk towards the madness that's blocking their entry way.

"How the fuck are we supposed to get inside?"

"This is so sweet, oh my god," Jude practically melts, leaning down to sniff each box of roses like they all don't smell the exact same.

Jobe throws his head back and groans.

"Oh! And he wrote a letter!" His brother plucks a piece of paper from the largest rose box and hugs it to his chest.

"Is it twenty five pages?" Jobe teases. He gets a nasty glare.

"Shut up," Jude scoffs. "Damn, I should've gotten him something too."

"Perhaps a file for all those pages—"

"Can you shut up!?" He yells. Jobe just snickers. Then Jude pulls out his phone, staring down at the letter fondly, and it takes exactly two rings before the person on the other end picks up.

"Erl!" He practically glows. "You sappy idiot! Oh my gosh, I love them. Thank you so much, baby."

Jobe fake gags. Jude smacks him in the arm.

"Yeah, I'm free anytime after seven—"

"Mate, clean up your mess!" Jobe yells towards the phone and his brother scrambles to move away from him, almost trips on a box of roses as he goes.

"It's not a mess, it's sweet!" Jude yells back. Then in a soft voice, he says into the phone, "It's very sweet, Erl."

"Are you fucking serious?" Jobe hears footsteps and turns around. A neighbour walks by and gives them a funny look.

He hears Jude murmurs, "Sorry, Jobe's just salty he didn't get anything for Valentines."

"The last thing I am right now is jealous."

"He's super jealous," Jude giggles, tucking the letter into his chest and walking towards the grass on the front lawn to sit down on it. Jobe blinks, once, twice.

"Bro, move all of this shit!"

His brother, the smitten arsehole, ignores him and instead choses to lie on the grass, paper still against his chest, big grin on his lips as he listens to Erling on the other end.

Jobe glances back at the mountain of roses covering the front door, wonders if he could step over all of them. Nah, he couldn't. There's too many and unless he wants to fall and squish all these roses, which would definitely result in Jude ignoring him for the rest of the week, there's no other way to get inside other than to move all the big ass boxes out of the way.

It's easier said than done.

"Why the fuck are these so heavy?" Jobe drags another box away from the front door. His brother ignores him, keeps talking to Erling as he picks flowers on the grass.

Finally after what felt like hours of manual labour, to the point where Jobe feels sweat beading down his forehead, he finally manages to clear the entry way, sighs to himself as he walks through the front door, craving the sweet relief of his comfy bed.

"Hey, Jobe," their mother pops her head out from behind the kitchen when he enters, laughs, "Think that's for your brother."

At first he thinks she's talking about the roses and he's about to say he already knew. But then she points into the living room, and Jobe turns to see it.

"Are you serious," he deadpans. Their mother snickers and pops back behind the wall.

Sitting menacingly in their living room, probably around two meters tall, is a teddy bear. Its light brown and has the dumbest face Jobe has ever seen, and it's holding a big red heart that says 'you must be a striker too, because you've scored my heart'. He hears a rustle behind him, then another gasp.

"Oh my gosh!" Jude squeals, "Erl, you shouldn't have!"

Jobe just sighs.

He finally meets Erling in person when they fly over to Dortmund to watch one of Jude's games. He's not sure what he's expecting, basing all his knowledge of the man on the phone calls he's overheard and the gifts that keep rocking out outside their front door. He's almost tripped leaving the house more times than he would like.

Whatever Jobe was expecting though, it was worst. It was a lot worst.

Watching the game, he felt like he was intruding. And if that's how he, Jude's bloody brother, feels he can't imagine what everyone else must be thinking. Erling and Jude are on each other the whole game, glancing back and forward, smiling at the other when they think no one's watching when in reality, everyone's bloody watching. At one point he sees Erling come up to Jude, whisper something in his ear, and the other man just chuckles and slaps his chest before he runs off to the ball, you know, what they're supposed to be doing.

Safe to say it isn't exactly what he expects to see when he was told he would be watching his brother's Dortmund match but he gave them the benefit of the doubt— new relationships and all that stuff. It's nice to see your partner play with you on the field, and Jobe will admit he's happy for them.

That happiness doesn't last long. Very soon, it morphs into pure annoyance. Because if you thought the glances and whispers and touches to the waist during the match were bad, oh god, you haven't seen anything.

Because Jobe realises now that when they celebrate, they really celebrate.

It happens when Jude does a neat pass to Erling before sliding to his knees and the man kicks back his leg, strikes right into the goal.

Jobe screams, of course he does. He jumps and yells, "That's my fucking bro!" And next to him, he can hear their parents scream as well. The whole stadium practically explodes, it's pure chaos.

But then comes the celebration.

He's not sure who Jude has told about his and Erling's relationship. Perhaps the whole team knows about them. If not, and if Jude and Erling are trying to keep it a secret, they're doing a piss-poor job.

At one point he turns to mum, mouth gaping and he points a thumb towards where Jude is lying on the floor and Erling's sprawled on top of him, face buried in his neck. She shrugs in a 'what can you do' gesture but Jobe can see in her eyes that she wasn't expecting this much…touching either.

After the game, Jude runs to the stands, embraces them in a tight hug. He's sweaty and stinky and Jobe's about to tell him that when he catches a fucking giant fidgeting behind him, his eyes flicking around in nervousness.

Seeing Erling in person is horrible because the man is built like a brick wall. His brother's already tall, don't get him wrong, and Jobe would like to argue he's pretty tall too, past his brother's height at this point. Standing in front to Erling though, he feels dwarfed.

"This is Erl," Jude softly elbows the man and Erling brings up a hand to wave at them, sheepish grin on his lips. Their mother embraces him right away, accepting as always. Their dad gives Erling a small pat on the back, talks to him about his game performance to which Erling listens to like an eager puppy. Jobe just turns to Jude, who's already smirking at him and tilting his head towards Erling.

Jobe shrugs. "What do you want me to say?" He harshly whispers when Erling's occupied with their mum and dad. Jude rolls his eyes.

"Anything. Just talk to him."

"I'll tell him to lay off the crazy Valentine's day gifts," Jude shutters when he thinks of the massive bear plushie that still currently resides in the living room, shoved to the corner cause it takes up so much space. Sometimes Jobe walks into the living room, ready to watch a game with popcorn in hand, and he'll see Jude hugging it like it's a real person. After around the fourth time of seeing this, he's learnt not to question it, just sit down on the couch and turn on the TV.

Jude gawks. "Don't say that."

"Don't say what?" Erling smiles at Jobe, goes to wrap an arm around Jude's shoulder when he comes up behind him again. Their parent's knowing smirk following closely in suit.

"Nothing, don't worry, Erl," Jude leans in to kiss Erling and the man kisses back, any previous confusion on his face melting away as they wrap their arms around each other. Jobe turns to gag, gets a light smack on the arm by their mother.

"Erling, sweetheart," their mum starts. Erling pulls away from his brother, thank god, and turns to face them, his lips slightly red. "You should come with us to dinner later."

At first there's shock flashing over his features and Jude's as well. Then he's grinning like he's won the lottery and it completely takes over his face. "Really?" Erling turns to Jude and Jude smiles just as stupid, shrugs. Erling turns back, "I'd love to."

Their mother just nods her head, grabs her purse, and says, "I'll send you the location." Then she's walking off with dad.

Jobe follows their parents out, but not before he glances back at his brother and Erling, just in time to see Erling pick Jude up and spin him around like their in a romcom. Then, while Jude's still in his arms, he tilts his head back and Jude cups his face to kiss him again.

Jobe glances away so fast he hears his neck crack.

Dinner's an interesting affair.

The place is nice, some local restaurant in the area that opens late. Erling makes small talk to their mum and dad while waiting for service, completely charming their pants off, seriously, it's impressive. Jobe glances at his brother, whose eyes haven't Erling's the entire time he rambles, and kicks his feet under the table.

"Oi," Jude finally turns to glare at him. "What?"

Jobe tilts his head towards Erling. "What's his deal?" he whispers.

Jude responds with a genuinely confused face, "The hell you one about?"

"Like, he's tryna win the in-laws or something?"

"He just wants mum and dad to like him, alright?" Jude steals another glance at Erling, smiles small and delicately. "He was real nervous about meeting them."

"You know, if he really cared he wouldn't be mounting you in the middle of the game."

There's silence. Jobe turns to the rest of the table to see that everyone's staring at him. He hears Jude sigh.

Then Erling chuckles, loudly. Full on throws his head back and everything. On the other hand though, Jude looks a second away from exploding.

"Sorry, Jobe. I couldn't help it," he winks at Jude. Jobe blinks very slowly.

The waiter arrives eventually. Just in time, his mind supplies. He orders his food, their parents order their food, and then it comes to Erling and Jude.

"We'll get that in a large."

Jobe scrunches his eyebrows. "You're both gonna share one?"

"Yeah!"

Their mum laughs, "You sure that'll keep you guys full?"

Jude nods but Jobe knows it's bullshit. He's seen his brother eat like a horse, and given human tank sitting next to him, they're both gonna need at least two more plates.

Still, he doesn't say anything, just sits and listens to Erling talk to their parents while Jude stares like he's hypnotised. Then soon food comes and Jobe grins down at his plate of food, can feel his stomach slightly grumble, and picks up his utensils to dig in. The fork's halfway to his mouth when he catches it— Jude twirling spaghetti on his own fork before he brings it up to Erling's mouth, watches the other man blow on it, and then he feeds it to him.

And just like that, he's lost his appetite.

It's even worst when Erling does the same, twirls the pasta on his fork and brings it up to Jude's lip. His brother even giggles before taking the bite.

Jobe turns to their parents to see both their eyes glued to the food. They're trying to ignore it but Jobe can't.

He was right on one thing though. Both Jude and Erling wipe the plate clean, two hungry ass athletes really trying to share a single small ass plate of pasta, what a joke. Just when Jobe thinks their both done and are finally gonna order their own plate that they can both eat with their own utensil and preferably with their own hands, they both order another pasta. Singular.

They feed each other that too, laughing and playfully smacking one another the whole time. Jobe mentally sheds a tear.

Erling left for Manchester City in 2022. Jobe really though things would change, for the worst. Truly, he prepared for an intervention, prepped the freezer with ice cream and got new controllers for FIFA, call him brother of the year.

For a bit, things were different. And by different he meant Jude sulked. He sulked badly. Every time he would come home for break, he's spending at least a quarter of the day whining and crying about missing Erling, would constantly stare at his phone likes he's waiting for a call or a message.

"Mate, go outside or something," Jobe says when he enters the living room, ready to watch a game with popcorn in hand, only to see the big ass teddy bear on the floor, Jude smothering it with his body weight, face shoved into the creamy brown fur.

His brother replies but it's muffled. Jobe sighs, pinches between his brows. How Jude is older is beyond him.

"Miss him," Jude finally mutters when he turns his head to the side, small pout on his lip. Jobe goes up and kicks him in the ass.

"Mate, you call every bloody day. He's just busy." It does nothing. Jude just turns back into the fur to cry.

Throwing his head back, Jobe stares at the ceiling, wondering if the gods will come down and grant him sanction from his stupid ass brother. An idea sparks in his mind.

jobebellingham

Oi

Visit my brother

erling

Jobe?

You followed me!

jobebellingham

Jude has been non-stop whining my ear off

I'm abt to lose it

erling

Oh my baby :(

I'm sorry I've been so busy with the new club

I've had genuinely no time to visit

In a meeting right now 😔

jobebellingham

Bloody make time

In front of him, Jude just sighs loudly into the fur, wraps his arms tighter around it. Jobe hears footsteps behind him, turns around to see their dad walk into the living room, take one look at Jude currently drowning in the plush toy, turn to Jobe with a blank look, and then he turns right back around.

Jobe's gotta do something about this.

jobebellingham

U know

U're not gonna have a boyfriend for long if u don't visit

erling

What

Why

Jobe?

jobebellingham

He's like super duper pissed

Okay so, Jobe may be playing dirty. But if he has to listen to another whine or complain from Jude he's going to kill himself.

erling

Is he really?

He usually tells me if he is

Or I'd be able to tell

He's not picking up my calls

Can I talk to him?

Jobe feels Jude's phone, that he had just stolen from the coffee table, vibrate in his pocket. He's desperate, alright? Thank god his brother doesn't have his ring tone on.

jobebellingham

Nah, he don't wanna talk to u mate

Ohhh you fucked up so bad

erling

Jobe

Is he okay?

Jobe?

Tell him to drink some water

I'm coming over

Jude smirks to himself. Man, he's a genius.

jobebellingham

U not in a meeting tho?

erling

Left it

I'll be there soon

jobebellingham

Birmingham like 2 hrs away from Manchester tho

erling

I'll be there in an hour

Tell him to call me back soon

jobebellingham

Texting while speeding?

Bit reckless mate

Think you're too dangerous for my brother

erling

Jobe please

Is he still mad?

Tell him I'm sorry

I've just been so busy

Tell my baby I'm sorry please Jobe

Please

Jobe bites his lip. Damn, he's starting a feel a bit bad. Maybe he's taking this too far.

He hears Jude take an inhale out of the teddy bear then murmur, "Smells like him…" into the fur.

Nevermind, he's not taking this far enough.

jobebellingham

Tell him that yourself

erling

Okay

I'll be there soon

jobebellingham

If u die on the way he'll be even more pissed

erling

Don't say that :(

I promise I won't

Tell him I said that

jobebellingham

Oh my god bro

Later, Jobe's game watching is disrupted by three loud, sharp, knocks which cut through the sound of commentators. He looks at the time. Erling's here way earlier than he should be, concerningly so. Jobe wonders if he'll open the door to Erling bleeding out and his bones bent in all kind of directions. He really hopes that's not the case, Jude will kill him.

Chucking in one last handful of popcorn, he pauses the game, stands up and walks up to where Jude is still on the teddy bear, not having moved in the last hour. He kicks Jude in the ass. "Get the door."

His brother just shakes his head, sniffs. Jobe kicks his ass harder. "Hurry up."

"You do it," Jude croaks before he turns, eyes glassy and slightly red. Jobe crunches on his popcorn. Once, twice, then he sighs.

"Mate, get the bloody door or I'm gonna piss on your teddy."

His brother makes a face. "That's bloody gross," he mumbles but goes to stand up anyways, taking in one last inhale of the bear before he does. Jobe mentally high fives himself. One happy Jude coming right up. He's just hoping whatever they're about to do when they're together stays in Jude's room and just Jude's room.

His brother drags his feet to the door, shoulders slouched. He makes it to the door though and Jobe just sits back down on the couch, settles the popcorn back on his lap, and smiles to himself.

The door creaks when it opens, Jobe's expecting to hear a gasp and a cry before they tightly embrace and start making out or something like that. What he hears instead is a sharp gasp, which he was right about, before Jude yells in the most distressed voice he's ever heard, "Erl, are you okay?!"

Oh shit.

Jobe whips his head towards the door but he can't get a good look. Oh my god, please tell him Erling's still alive and preferably in one piece. If he kills Jude's first ever boyfriend he's gonna be so grounded. He races to the door, mentally shakes the visions of Erling bleeding from the head or with both his legs bent at 270 degrees out of his mind.

Once there, he's greeted with the blond. Erling's in one piece and alive (let's go) but that's about where all the positive news ends because he looks like a mess. He's crying, snot and tears rolling down his face, and Jude grabs him by the back of his head and just pulls him into a hug, lets Erling's snotty face rub all over his shoulder and catch on his hoodie. Jobe winces. Damn, Jude must really love him.

His brother's repeating "what's wrong?" like twenty times but it doesn't seem like Erling can hear him. The man clings onto Jude, wrapping his arms around him like he's about to disappear, and he just shakes his head.

Jude turns around slightly to stare at Jobe in shock and concern. He responds with a shrug. His brother lifts his hands to cup Erling face while Jobe goes to find tissues.

When he comes back, footsteps follow behind him and Jobe turns to see their mother, eyes wide and mouth gaping. "Is that Erling?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Don't…uh know what's up with him."

Except Jobe has a bit of an idea as to what's wrong. He keeps his mouth shut for now though, will spill the beans later when Erling isn't about to cry to death. She races towards them, cups the back of Jude's head when the man turns to her with a concerned look. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Jude weakly responds, sounding pained. Jobe bites the inside of his cheek. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. He passes over some tissues to Jude, who gently pats Erling's back and mutters, "Lift your head up, Erl."

Erling does, eyes still glassy and staring at Jude like he's about to slip away. He blows into the tissue Jude lifts to his nose and Jude hands it to Jobe when he's done.

"I'm not touching that," Jobe grimaces, stepping back from it. Their mother glares at him, Jude gives him a pleading look and he mentally curses everything. Grabbing another handful of tissues, Jobe carefully plucks it out of Jude's hands and runs to find a bin.

He comes back to them on the couch now, Jude in Erling's lap, whispering in his ear while Erling suffocates himself in Jude's neck and clings his arms around his waist. Their mother's in the kitchen and he can hear the sound of the kettle hum, probably gonna make some tea.

"Don't leave me," Jobe makes out once he steps closer. He can see Jude stiffen.

"What?" His brother gently lifts Erling's face away from his neck, gives him a baffled look, "What are you talking about?"

"Are you still mad?" Erling whispers, voice cracking.

Jude shakes his head, slowly at first, like he's still comprehending what Erling's saying but then fast, so fast Jobe's sure he's going lightheaded. "I was never mad at you—what are you talking about?"

And now it's Erling's turn to look confused. He searches Jude's face for a minute. Then he glances to Jobe. Jobe stares at the very interesting wall behind them. It's not the most effective method because he can feel the exact moment Erling realises.

"Oh Jesus," Erling sighs and drops his head back against the couch. "Jobe told me."

"What." His brother's voice is sharp. Oh, this wall is such a nice colour, kind of similar to his shirt. Maybe they won't even notice he's here.

"Jobe told me you were mad," Erling huffs and Jobe can't tell if he sounds upset or relieved. He leans in to peck Jude on the lips, says in a small broken voice, "Thought you were gonna break up with me."

There's a beat of silence. Jobe swallows. He feels his brother turn around to glare at him.

"Okay, I can explain," he starts, smiling tightly at the glare in Jude's eyes. He also sees Erling smirking behind him, fucking bastard. "You were whining my ear off. I was going insane, mate. You cannot blame me."

"What did you tell him?" Jude goes to stand but Erling pulls him back into his lap. Jobe sees him go to pull out his phone from his pocket before he hands it over to Jude who takes it swiftly. Jobe just stares, jaw dropped. Erling has the audacity to shrug.

The minutes in which Jude reads through their messages are tense. For a second, Jobe wonders if they'll notice if he sneaks out. He glances at the exist then glances back to the pair just to see that Erling's eyes haven't left him once. Okay, did Erling always look so…intense?

Finally Jude settles down the phone and takes one long look at Jobe. It's right at that moment that their mother walks into the room, mug of tea in hand. She hands it to Erling and the man responds with a sweet smile and a, "Thank you, ma'am."

"What's going on?" She asks, pointing between Jude and his death stare at Jobe.

No, he hopes to convey in his eyes, don't fucking tell mum. Jobe slowly shakes his head. His brother responds with a smirk.

Well fuck.

So Jobe's grounded.

He didn't even realise that was possible given he's almost a fucking adult now but he likes living in a house, with a roof and food on the table, so he's not gonna argue with his mum. He also had to apologise to Erling, the man just staring with an amused smirk the whole time. God, Jobe could've lobbed him in the face if it weren't for Jude standing next to him.

Erling also ended up staying the night, even used their shower— in which he walked out of wearing Jude's clothes that were definitely a tad too tight, not like he looked like he minded, or Jude— and had dinner with them. Maybe this is also his punishment, a gift that keeps on giving. God, imagine Erling starts joining them for dinner everyday. Jobe winces.

He leaves the next morning after sleeping in Jude's room, wearing a scarf even though it's hot as shit. Jobe's not gonna question it. Won't question the turtleneck his brother is also conveniently wearing that day. He's bloody tired.

When Jude goes back to play for Dortmund though, it seems like they have this long distance thing worked out. And by worked out, he means they're disgusting everyone.

Judy 🔒︎

@priv_judyyy

Wine and dine 😉

[Photo of Jude at a fancy restaurant in Germany. He's wearing a casual button up and is smiling brightly at the camera}

5:39 PM • 15/12/22 • Twitter for iPhone

 Comments

Lyng 🔒︎ @erl_priv

Would eat all day everyday 🤤

      Judyy 🔒︎ @priv_judyyy replied to this comment: Food was so good you'd love it!!

            Lyng 🔒︎ @erl_priv replied to this comment: I'm not talking about the food

                  Jobee 🔒︎ @jobebelling_priv replied to this comment: Can you not?

[Selfie of Jude sweaty and panting at the camera, a tired grin on his face as he gives it a thumbs up]

judebellingham Another rough session but we push through! Sometimes hard things are required to grow 💛

Likes: 1.1M

Comments: 5.2k

Repost: 2.1k

Shares: 1.3k

Comments

erling Hard things you say?

      Jessie replied to this comment: Yo public account Haaland

      Mad_Moo replied to this comment: Bro what

      Jonnie_moon replied to this comment: ???

Judy 🔒︎

@priv_judyyy

Anyone have new year firework photos??

3:03 PM • 02/01/23 • Twitter for iPhone

Comments

Gioo 🔒︎ @priv_rey

Why do u have a cat as your pfp?

Lyng 🔒︎ @erl_priv

I have photos for u!

      Judyy 🔒︎ @priv_judyyy replied to this comment: Thanks Erl I love you❤️😽

            Lyng 🔒︎ @erl_priv replied to this comment: I love you too baby ❤️😽

                  Gioo 🔒︎ @priv_rey replied to this comment: U also have a cat pfp??

Jobee 🔒︎ @jobebelling_priv

Omg bro

Erling loves his boyfriend.

That might be the understatement of the century, Jack thinks as he takes a sip of his drink.

But he can't just say Erling has issues. Just sounds a little mean is all. Although Jack wouldn't be wrong. The man is…well borderline obsessed. He can't spend a day without talking about Jude, can barely stand a conversation without mentioning the man. Jack settles down his cup, turns to Erling's who's hunched over his phone on the couch next to him, smiling like an idiot.

Jack thinks back to one of their first conversations when Erling joined the club. It seems like such a long time ago now. He can't remember how it came up but they had been talking about the most comfortable sleeping positions.

"Side position, obviously," Phil had said. Jack firmly disagreed.

"Nah mate, on your back. Helps with blood flow."

"Bullshit, where'd you hear that from?" John laughed. Then he turned to Erling, who had been quietly observing the conversation with a small smile on his face. "What about you mate?"

Erling considered for a moment. Then he shrugged, "I don't mind."

"Nah, but you gotta have a favourite."

"Yeah, come on now," Jack joined in on the banter.

The blond chuckled, threw his hands up in surrender, "Alright, anywhere with Jude is good."

Jack furrowed his brows. He heard Phil slowly pop off his bottle.

"What?"

Erling smiled at them, but this time he looked zoned out, dreamy. "I can sleep anywhere as long as Jude is there."

Jack nodded, "Right…okay. That's cute." What else is he supposed to say to that?

"That's not a position," John muttered, like the smartass he is.

Erling then grinned, "You want to hear positions then? I can tell you a few we like—"

"Ew, fuck off!"

From then on he's always been unapologetic towards his love for Jude. It's almost admirable, if it didn't make everyone want to pull their hair out. He remembers back to a pub they had gone to after a game to celebrate and Erling had gotten piss drunk and ended up yapping about Jude to anyone who would listen. He also called him and the man picked up even though it was like 3:00AM for him. Then Erling spent the rest of the night on the phone before he passed out on the bar counter. Wow, what a night.

Jack smiles fondly at the memory before he's broken out the trance by a loud yell from Erling himself as he watches the game on the TV, the ball flying way past the net. Jack chuckles and takes another sip of his beer.

Erling had invited them over to watch a game and, really, who can deny free beer? It's fun, watching and yelling at the TV when they're not the ones on the pitch.

It's during the hydration break that the doorbell rings. Phil turns towards it before he turns back to Erling. "Got a package?"

Erling lifts his head from his phone, which he had been on the whole hydration break, and his face morphs like he's trying to remember something before it suddenly beams. The phone is clicked off, his lock screen of Jude's smiling face fading to black, and it's dropped onto the couch cushion. Then Erling's jumping over the back of the couch and running towards the door within seconds. Jack turns to Phil who turns to him and they both just shrug.

"Maybe Jude's shipped himself in a box," John teases. Jack honestly wouldn't put it past him.

Erling comes back with a neatly packaged box and a big smile on his face, feet bouncing in excitement.

"What'd you order?" He hears Phil ask.

Erling glances at them, like he's just remembered that they're here and suddenly he looks sheepish. His face blushes a baby pink and he settles it down softly on the kitchen island, turning to dig in his cabinets for a blade to carefully cut it open. He doesn't answer the question and that makes Jack furrow his brows.

He's expecting perhaps fine china, glass ware or a limited edition figurine, something that would explain Erling's careful handling of the box. What he sees instead, upon Erling pulling a part the flaps, is a whole bunch of clothes.

"New wardrobe?" He asks. Erling chuckles.

"You could say that," the man smiles before he pulls out his phone. Jack already knows who he's calling. It rings three times before the man picks up.

"Judy! Baby I got your package."

Perhaps Jude sent Erling a gift, new clothes for his wardrobe. A little random but Jack's not gonna judge.

But then Erling pulls out a black hoodie and it looks a bit small. It'd still fit him, just would be a little tight. It also looks older, not clean and crisp like you would expect new clothes to look.

Then Erling shoves his face in it and takes a deep inhale. "Still smells like you," he grins into the phone.

That's when it hits Jack. The clothes in the box. Not new clothes Erling had ordered, not even new clothes Jude had ordered for him.

It's Jude's clothes. He get sent Jude's clothes.

"Mate, what is your problem?"

Erling doesn't even acknowledge him, just slings the hoodie over his shoulder before he's digging in the box again. Jack thinks he even saw boxers in there. He turns to Rúben and the man just shrugs and gives him a pained look.

"Let me know once you get mine," Erling beams. Of course he sent his own over as well. The box is then hauled up into his arms before Erling turns on his heel and just fucking leaves. Jack hears his voice travel down the hall as he makes his way to his room, shuts the door with a click.

He doesn't come out for the rest of the night. No one dares to ask why.

Dortmund's pretty fucking awesome.

He understands why his brother was so fond of it now. It's bloody great. The people and the overall atmosphere of the club makes him wake up every morning genuinely excited. He feels like a cartoon character living in a utopia. Germany is awesome too, god Jobe can gush on about it for days.

His brother's been playing for Real Madrid for around two years now and from all the phone calls Jobe's gotten about it, Jude really likes it there. Seems like he fit right into the club, making a real name for himself.

It's crazy how much can change within a few years. Jobe feels wiser now, even though he's only nineteen. He feels more himself everyday, growing up to become the footballer he's always wanted to be. There's kids that wave at him when he passes by and it brings him back to when he used to be that small, when him and Jude used to hide their controllers as they played in plastic bags and when they would collect FIFA cards to start their own little collection. It's insane to imagine it's his face the kids are trying to collect now. He wonders how Jude must feel.

Still, even with every major life event, there's one thing that hasn't changed though. Not one bit.

"They cannot be that bad," Carney mutters over the rim of his water bottle. Jobe shakes his head at him, points a finger to the stands.

Jude had time recently. How?Jobe's not too sure, he's not gonna ask. Anyways, Jude had time to come watch a Dortmund game and was even nice enough to fly all the way to Germany to watch it in person. He also mentioned something about feeling nostalgic too but Jobe knows the truth, he's probably here to dig through the trash and find one of Erling sweaty socks.

"They're bloody horrendous," he says, staring at where Jude is on the phone. The game had just finished, Dortmund winning 2-1, and the first thing his brother does is pull out his phone and call his boyfriend. It's honestly impressive to be so obsessed.

Carney watches Jude as well, disbelieving. "They're just in love, mate."

"Nah, you don't understand," because he doesn't. Jobe's a veteran, he's been dealing with this shit for years, knows all the in and outs of his brother's relationship while also knowing a whole lot more than he would like. He knows the looks they pass to each other when they think no one's looking, is able to catch a sneaky hand moving under the table, and can tell when Jude is wearing a scarf just cause he's cold and when he's wearing one cause he's dating a genuine carnivore. He shutters at the memories, "They're disgusting."

He can practically hear Carney's eye roll. What is it gonna take for this guy to believe him? He feels like he's going insane. Every time there's family dinner the two of them always act like this, and no one bats an eye! Not mum or dad or the family friends they sometimes have over, is Jobe going mental here?

"Mate, breath." A hand lands on his shoulder and he turns to see Carney staring at him, eyebrows wrinkled with concern. He just shakes his head. This guy has no idea.

Eventually, they end up going to the stands to get Jude, Jobe finally changed out of his sweaty jersey and into a comfortable hoodie and jeans. Carney at first didn't wanna come, said something about needing to get home on time but Jobe had insisted.

"Come on, mate. You gotta meet him so you think I'm not crazy."

"I'm sorry but there's no way he's acting like that."

Jobe lets out a humourless laugh, looks at his friend with a craze in his eyes. "Mate, you don't know what I've seen."

They're around five meters away from Jude when they can hear him, laughing fully and throwing his head back. The sound echoes in the now vacant stadium. Jobe turns to Carney and he replies with a shrug.

"So he's loud?"

Jobe groans, walks closer to his brother until they're in front of him.

"I know and I told her— Oh!" Jude perks up once he sees them, smiles brightly and stands up to pat his back. "Good game out there, you nailed it."

Jobe narrows his eyes, crosses his arms over his chest. "You even watch it?"

"You think I flew all the way out here to sleep?" Jude teases and Jobe can hear Erling say something over the phone that had Jude rolling his eyes.

"No, I think you flew all the way out here to chat to your boyfriend without getting a noise complaint."

There's a snort behind him and Jobe turns around, sees Carney hide his mouth in his hands. Jobe lets himself be prideful about it.

"That's not true," Jude huffs and goes to grab his bag. They're going out for dinner and Jobe would prefer it if they aren't late for their reservation. Over the phone, he hears Erling say something else and Jude responds with a long, deep sigh.

"Yeah, got dinner with Jobe," he says like he's disappointed.

"Alright, you know we don't need to get dinner—"

"Jokes, mate! Jokes" Jude punches him on the shoulder, snickers into the phone and Jobe can hear the other man laugh back. He rolls his eyes, gestures to his mess of a brother to Carney. The man shrugs again, still unconvinced.

It's like a dog being able to perform a trick with ease in front of you but the second there's an audience it's practically useless. Okay, maybe he shouldn't compare Jude to a dog. Yikes, don't let Erling hear that.

When his brother still doesn't move from where he's rooted in place, Jobe smacks his match bag against his leg, cuts off his blabbering. "Jude, come on!"

His brother makes an annoyed face but he finally tells Erling, "I got to go now."

He mentally sighs in relief, hopes that Jude won't spend all of dinner sending pictures of the food to Erling. A man can dream.

"I'll call you later, baby," he says into the phone, tone honey and syrupy sweet. Jobe suppresses a gag, turns to Carney to see the man looking slightly more convinced. He just needs that little push, a nudge to make him join Jobe in his suffering. "I love you!" Jude yells.

Finally, Jobe goes to turn on his heel, already thinking about dinner and everything else he's going to shovel down his throat after that grueling game. Maybe he'll hit up a spa place too, or simply just go home and sleep. Oh that would be pure heaven. His mind's full of floating on clouds and diving into oceans of tranquility. The calm is interrupted by a giggle.

"No, you hang up!" Jude laughs into the phone, dumb stupid smile on his lips. "You hang up!"

Jobe stares. Then he turns to Carney.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he murmurs and Jobe just nods.

They end up coming late to dinner because Jude kept talking for another ten minutes. Then he got distracted messaging Erling instead of getting ready and— truly how his brother had survived for this long is astounding.

Loss is hard to deal with. Martin knows that.

Loss is also part of their job. The wins are great, a high that follows them throughout the whole week. A win is always appreciated and celebrated, but lose helps them build. It's needed to empower and advance, create a stronger team than ever before.

Martin is so proud of how far Norway has come in the World Cup, defeating Brazil and making it into the semi-finals after almost thirty decades of not qualifying. He knows there's a celebration planned for them and he knows that, even though they were defeated by England, they did good, made it far.

They're all in the locker room now, the air full of disappointment but it's not potent, just people trying to swallow a loss while also remaining proud of the progress Norway has made.

"Proud of you boys," he went around and made sure to pat everyone on the back. Erling's sitting at a bench, eyes hazy and staring at the ground like he's lost and Martin comes to sit down next to him, rests a hand on his shoulder.

"Proud of you especially," Erling lifts his head to face him and Martin nods. There's a smile about to form on his face when the door to the locker room busts open.

Martin whips his head forward and is met with one Jude Bellingham, still in his England kit and panting like he's just played another game. His eyes dart around the room quickly before they land on Erling.

They stare at one another for a beat. Someone goes to grab Jude because he shouldn't be in their bloody locker room, but then Erling's out of the bench within seconds. Three long strides later he's catching Jude in his arm and smothering his face into his neck.

Wow, Martin thinks.

He's not sure what he's expecting Jude to do but it sure as hell is not to thread his fingers in Erling long blonde hair and start whispering stuff into his ear. Are they even aware that everyone in the locker room is staring at them? In fact, better question, do they even care?

Martin catches Erling slip a hand down to cup Jude's ass and he has his answer.

Then Jude' getting picked up, long arms holding onto his thighs and Erling leans away from his neck to capture his lips, Jude cupping the man's face to knock their foreheads together. Martin catches Sander's eye and the man just looks pained, like he'd rather be anywhere else. Martin can't blame him.

They walk off, wrapped in each other's arms, Erling still carrying Jude. Martin has no clue where they headed off to. He sure as hell is not going to ask. They all just watch in silence as the pair disappear behind the door.

"Drinks on me?" Someone says after a bit of silence and the locker room erupts in noise once again.

Christmas is a big affair at home and a really nice one, something he looks forward to every year. Jobe loves it to bits, used to sneak down the stairs with Jude on Christmas eve and shake the box to guess what gift they got. It's a fond memory, Christmas time always makes him a little emotional.

This year they did something simple, something just between the family. Their mum made food while dad tried to help. Jude and him decorated the house, filled it up with colourful tinsel and stockings. The fireplace was lit up and they had a lovely dinner. It was very nice.

And then came Erling's Christmas party. Jobe's not gonna lie, he totally wasn't expecting to get invited, especially after his little stunt a couple years ago that almost gave both Jude and Erling a heart attack. He thought Erling hated him. Jobe thought it was mutual!

Turns out it's one-sided, according to Jude when he had asked. "Why'd Erling invite me?"

His brother just stared at him weird, "Why…wouldn't he?"

"Thought he hated me."

Jude looks genuinely offended. "What? Why?"

"Cause I made him think you wanted to break up and he cried in your arms for like three hours."

Jude squints at him like he's trying to remember what he's talking about. But then he laughs, "Nah, he told me it was actually pretty smart later. He loves you."

Humming, Jobe nods slowly. "Right…"

So that's how Jobe ended up here, sitting on Erling's couch with a drink in hand and about three shots already in his system. He's gonna admit, Erling knows how to throw a party. There's lights and decorations, loud music and good ass food. Also drinks galore.

There's a couple of Erling's teammates here too along with other people Jobe doesn't really know. They all seem nice when they talk to him though— alcohol tends to have that affect on people.

They make it around two hours into the party before someone spots Jude and Erling making out in a corner. Someone yells for them to get a room but they are blatantly ignored. In the end, they all unanimously agree to just not look towards that corner.

A finger taps his shoulder though and he turns to see Jack Grealish, the man's face slightly flushed. He points a finger towards the pair snogging, "That happen often, yes?"

Oh my god. Jobe's eyes practically light up and he can see it in Jacks, the same trauma. There's a level of understanding about to be unlocked. Jobe's buzzing on his feet.

"Yes. Oh my days, yes."

Jack nods as well, quickly like he's trying to prove to Jobe that he gets him. Phil comes to pat Jack on the back, nods to Jobe as well. "Mate, you don't know the shit we've seen."

"You don't know the shit I've seen!"

"Wait," another voice cuts in. They turn to Martin, holding two beers like they're about to run away from him, Sander standing close behind. "You talking about Erling and Jude?"

It's like they've all won the jackpot. In that moment, clubs, rivalries, any bad blood is diminished. All their eyes light up. Jobe's so happy he could cry.

Turns out having a common topic everyone is highly passionate about is a great way to make new friends, who would have thought.

"…he sent around a dozen rose boxes to our house! I couldn't get in the bloody door."

"Mate, that's nothing. You know he got a box of Jude's clothes a while back," Jobe's seen people recite murders with less concern in their eyes. "He sniffed them too."

"Yeah, he definitely got off to them," Phil sighs and takes another shot.

"No, you don't understand," Martin slurs, shaking his head as the alcohol hits. "After the game with England, Jude came into the locker room. They started making out and then Erling picked him up and they just left!"

Jobe takes a sip from his drink, takes in the distress state of everyone in the circle, everyone who all seem to have their own story regarding his brother and his boyfriend. It feels like group therapy.

"Uh, guys," a voice cuts through. They turn to Sander who's eyes look like they're about to bulge out his head, "Where'd they go?"

Jobe turns towards the earlier snogging corner to find it empty. Sluggishly, he pulls out his phone to call Jude but it goes to voice message. Then he catches it on the floor. The idiot left his phone.

"Oh, Erling messaged" Jack says, holding his phone to his face, eyes squinting. "He says their going out somewhere."

"Are they both not hammered?"

"Nah, think they're both actually stone cold sober." Jobe grimaces, that's even worst. They're straight up snogging on their own free will.

The rest of the night passes by in a blur of drinks and colour and of bright Christmas lights and jolly tunes ringing in his ear. It's the most fun he's had in a while and Jobe thinks he's made some life-long friends here. Trauma bonding, man it's effective.

A killer headache is what greats him the next morning though, when Jobe opens his eyes to realise he's on the floor of the kitchen, an empty shot cup next to him and tinsel in his mouth. Jobe sits up, spits it out and instantly lets out a groan because the human body was not made to sleep on hard wood for a whole eight hours. Now his back and his head is killing him.

Crawling up, Jobe hisses at the bright morning sun peaking through the curtains, and catches a whole bunch of bodies sprawled out on the couch and the carpet. He attempts to get his feet to work, almost trips on Martin who's lying faced down on the floor, on his way to the bathroom.

Jobe spends at least five minutes just staring at himself in the mirror, feeling and looking like a mess. He digs through Erling's cabinets for mouthwash to rid the taste of a hangover in his mouth.

When he comes back out, he sees Martin now awake, blinking groggily like he's trying to get his eyes to work. He also sees Jack and Sander swaying as they try to sit upright. Rico's attempting to stand up, Phil's still fucking gone.

"Morning," Jobe flinches, darts around to see his brother all prim and proper, looking like he got the most blissful sleep of his life. He waltz into the kitchen to turn on the kettle. "How'd you all sleep?"

"Guh," someone says and Jobe cannot agree more.

Jobe goes to stumble to the kitchen island seats before he bangs his head onto the granite counter, can even barely register the pain it causes because his whole head is throbbing.

His brother laughs and Jobe lifts his head up to glare at him. It makes him laugh even more. "Want some tea?"

Weakly, Jobe nods. Behind him, he hears a manta of 'me too's.

Turning around, Jude goes to open the top cabinet, needing to get on his tip toes because this is Erling's house and he's a bloody titan. When Jude reaches for the tea bags though, his shirt rides up ever so slightly and—

"What the fuck is that." So it turns out Jobe can find his voice.

"Hm?" His brother looks back, looks confused and glances at the set of eyes on him. "What do you mean?"

"Turn around again," Rico murmurs. Confused, Jude does. "Lift up your shirt."

Jude gives them a weird look. "Why do you want me to—"

And then he pauses. His jaw falls open, eyes hit with realisation, and Jude weakly smiles at them.

"Oh yeah," he starts, "I got a tattoo."

A slow nod. Then Jobe says, "Show it again."

He gets a laugh in return before Jude pulls up his shirt, revealing his lower back and the obvious Erling's written in pretty font across it. It's not massive or anything, big enough to be seen but not big enough to look tacky. The font is nice too, Jobe will give him that.

But still.

"You've lost your damn mind." Jobe gets a scoff and his brother shrugs, turns back to finally get the tea bags. Oh Jobe cannot wait to tell mum.

Loud stomping is heard down the hall. Then Erling stumbles into the kitchen, towel thrown across his shoulder and hair wet, water still dripping off his bare chest. He yawns, leans in to kiss Jude before turning to everyone else.

"Fun night?" He asks with a sly smile.

He gets grumbles in response. Sander points at Jude.

"He got a tattoo."

Erling furrows his brows, turns to Jude and he smiles, "They saw it this morning."

The kettle finally goes off and Jobe can already imagine the warm tea smoothing his throat and clearing this hell of a hangover in one simple sip. Erling laughs and nods his head at them.

"What'd you think of it?"

There's a bit of silence. Jack's brave enough to speak up.

"A bit possessive, mate."

Jude barks out a laugh while he pours the hot water into the mugs. Erling just stands, jaw slack, staring at all his teammates. Then he just sighs and rips off the towel slung over his shoulder and covering half his chest to reveal—

"Jesus Christ."

Erling tilts his head down to stare at it before he grins and glances back up, "You like? Jude picked out the font."

He's got Jude's on his chest, right over his heart. Jobe collectively hears pained groans.

A steaming mug of tea is settled in front of him. He looks up to see his brother wink. Groaning, Jobe just drops his face into his hands and cries.