haalingham AU where jude decides to go out to celebrate him being transfered to dortmund the night before he's introduced to the team (also to explore the new place a bit). he's at some club with a fake id, and you guess it, erling is there too with friends and teammates for a chill night out. erling spots jude first, this pretty young thing who looks so out of place in this loud and bustling club esp with those gorgeous doe eyes all but glinting under the clubs bouncing lights. it rouses some primal instincts in him - hunter and protector all the same rising up at once, fueling each step he stakes towards the young boy.
they chat, erling buys him a drink. erling asks for his age and the boy, jude, says "20" and erling doesn't believe him. he says as much, and jude only replies with a "does it matter?" while his pretty eyes stare back at erling as he sips the drink erling has bought for him. erling is a bad, bad man for not saying yes; for leaning in, closer than necessary so he could smell the cologne jude is wearing, so he could whisper a question in judes ear, feel the shiver when his hot breath hits the shell: "wanna come home with me?"
he's a bad, bad man, yes, but it's not like he's forcing jude into anything. not when he opens the cab door for him. not when he does the same with the door to his home, then his bed. not when jude clutches tight at the shirt erlings wearing and drags him down erlings bed with him.
jude doesn't stay the night, and erling doesn't ask him too. he's been playing football for long enough, wants more out of it than he's achieved so far, so he knows this can't be anything more than a good night of fun. and it was fun. more than fun. it was amazing. wonderful. a religious experience, almost.
then the next day comes, and there's a new boy being introduced to the team and erlings heart drops straight to his ass when he sees a familiar pair of beautiful, ethereal brown eyes looking back at him.
and in the daylight now, without the alcohol clouding up his brain, erling can see a certain wickedness behind those lovely babydoll eyes. jude had known who he was. and jude let erling flirt with him anyways, let him take him home, do things to him, kiss him again at the door like he was trying to get him to stay.
okay, erling thinks. so it's more complicated now, but, well, it doesn't have to be a thing. erling tries to keep it from being a thing, but it's so hard, and erling is only a man. a bad, bad man, as already established. jude, though, is not helping the issue- if anything, he's making it worse. so much worse with all the lingering gazes, lingering touches, and just lingering around erling.
"how old are you, really?" erling asks after practice, when it's just the two of them in the locker room.
"17," jude smiles, eyes wide and shining, innocent like a deer, but erling knows better.
or he should know better, do better, but as established... "wanna hang out after practice?" he asks, and jude smiles a bit brighter, like he's won some sort of prize erling didn't know he was giving away.
"not mine. my mom wouldn't like it."
erling feels a headache coming. he is for sure going to hell for this. "mine, then."
