Chapter Text
Jordan Henderson stands for everything that Jack always aspired to be. He isn’t praised like Messi, but he’s the skipper of one of the biggest teams in the world, in which he’s won every imaginable title. A true leader on and off the pitch. He’s a loyal, reliable and trustworthy player. He lives and breathes football. Jack also couldn’t deny that he’s a fit lad.
The national team arrived at St. George’s Park for the Euros a week prior to the opening match. Jack got out of his taxi excitedly, greeting everyone and looking at the new decoration in the hall. There was an artistic painting of each one of them at the entrance and Jack joked about his trim being a little bit different from now but still looking kinda hot in the portrait.
While Jack was wandering around the center, he saw Jordan speaking with Southgate and for some odd reason, he started to worry that his teammate could hate him for the match where Aston Villa completely wrecked Liverpool by 7x2. They already knew each other, but the possibility left him a bit apprehensive, which was unusual for him—Jack was known for being self-assured—, but when he approached to say hello, Hendo hugged him, keeping an affectionate hand on the back of his neck while complimenting his season and laughed about that historic match, making Jack grin like the cat that got the cream.
It was not like Jack needed everyone’s approval, but he was used and enjoyed being loved by those surrounding him, so hearing Jordan say all these compliments, so simply and easily, made him feel relieved and even more starstruck by the older man.
“See ya later, Jack,” Jordan smiled, stepping back with a subtle wink.
Jack just stared at him walking away with Sterling to the gym area, his mouth slightly open until Ben appeared out of nowhere, curling an arm around Jack’s shoulders and cheering that they were sharing a room during the tournament.
“The only issue is that Dec and Mase are next door,” Ben mentioned as they went upstairs to their shared room, exchanging greetings with the boys who crossed the path. “I saw the twats when I arrived”.
“Why’d this be a problem?” Jack asked with a frown, waiting for Ben to unlock the room with his keycard.
“For real, mate?” Ben chuckled, raising an eyebrow at his friend as he opened the door. Noticing the confusion still plastered on Jack's face, he snorted, carrying on. “Nevermind, you'll find out soon enough.”
"Nah, the only thing that matters is that we're in Euros, Chilly," Jack said, jumping onto one of the beds, tossing the cap he was wearing on the dresser. Ben nodded, quickly taking in his mate's bubbly mood, walking over to the bedroom fridge.
After the meeting, they headed to the new gym for a warm-up before finally heading to pitch practice. Jack couldn't be happier to be staying at a centre as incredible as SGP with his fellows.
{x}
It only took a day for Jack to understand what Ben meant before.
After dinner, when everyone was in their rooms, Jack and Ben were watching the latest season of Peaky Blinders, but Declan and Mason’s voices in the next room were way louder than the dialogue in the series. In the morning, Jack was awakened before his alarm by the duo's quite loud laughter.
"Fuck off," Ben grumbled, pulling his pillows up to cover his ears and trying to go back to sleep.
"Don’t be such a moaner," Jack chuckled, pushing the sheets away and climbing out of bed. He opened the door carefully, peering into the hallway where the noises were coming from.
Declan and Mason had spill shampoo in front of the door to the next room and when Rashford—one of the room's owners—left, he slipped and skidded down the hall, screaming until he fell. Sancho shortly ran out of the room and ended up on top of Marcus on the ground.
"I’ll get you back, bro!" Jadon grunted, lifting with difficulty with the back of his clothes stained. Rashford shook his head, returning to the bedroom in the same state without a word.
“Try your best, mate,” Declan teased, chuckling with Mason leaning on his shoulders.
Jack didn't know why Ben was so worried about having them on their side. Declan was the funniest guy on the team and Mason was the friendliest. Well, maybe just after himself.
Jack went down for breakfast and was one of the first to finish, heading towards the indoor court where the suits were. Phil, Jude, Kalvin and a few of the older ones were ready quickly, while he was still putting on his white button shirt. Hendo was changing in front of him and Jack couldn't help but notice how untouchable he looked; the perfectly tailored pieces of clothing lined upon his body. Jack strove to look impeccable like him.
Ben and Declan arrived when he was fully dressed, the young boy from West Ham mocking how Jack looked like a geography professor, with his black suit and slicked-back hair.
“I'm the pengest teacher in school,” Jack chuckled at his own joke, stepping back to tease Chilly about his extremely tight trousers.
Jack could barely stand still—excited as he was—, breaking into the row of seats, annoying all of his teammates. Bukayo looked at him despairingly, pointing to his undone tie around his neck. Jack had knotted his tie considerably well, but he had no idea of how he managed to do it and Hendo was right in front of him, exuding perfection. An idea crossed his mind.
"Hendo, do me a favour, can you sort this out?" Jack purred in his best Brummie accent, indicating his tie and walking toward the older man with overly confident steps. He winked at Bukayo as an assurance that Jordan would straighten his tie next.
Jack just wanted to look his very best for the pictures, of course.
“Looks good to me,” Jordan muttered, but he held on to his tie anyway, smoothing the fabric and tightening the knot. “Not so tight.”
Jack was used to being called handsome by people, but seeing Jordan right in front of him, looking so stunning with his blue eyes, trimmed beard and freshly cut hair, made him feel strangely shy. Jack shifted his gaze to the shiny silver bracelet on Hendo's wrist instead of his face during the seconds it took the Liverpool skipper to adjust his tie.
He’d no problem admitting when a bloke was fit and fuck, Jordan was probably the most handsome man he'd ever seen and effortless; no fancy clothes or stylized hairstyles.
Jordan loosened the grip on his tie and took a step back, making Jack copy his posture, regaining his composure and words.
"Do you know in Champions League?" Jack began in a low voice, drawing Hendo's attention back. "Did you get to wear a suit to the final or the same uniform?"
"Same uniform," Jordan replied, keeping his expression stoic. Jack just wanted to make him laugh to quell his growing nervousness.
"It's annoying, innit?" Imagine changing clothes and getting beaten in the final,” Jack joked, finally eliciting that easy laugh from Hendo, his features softening as he chuckled along. “People want to blame what you wore.”
Jack finally let Jordan walk away, pleased with himself for breaking the ice between them. He joined Jadon and Jude's banter in the stands, watching Hendo help the youngsters do their ties.
“You look like a science teacher,” Jadon scoffed, pointing to Jude sitting next to him and then pointing back to Jack. “He looks like a teacher, Hendo looks like a teacher.”
If the national team were a school, Henderson would be the headmaster, Jack thought, looking at the older man out of the corner of his eye. He emanates confidence and authority just through his posture. All players called up for the Euros respected him almost like a father figure.
After an hour, Mason finally appeared on the court. Declan joined him still not wearing a single item of clothing, the two of them nudging each other and laughing like idiot teenagers—which in fact, they were. Ben rolled his eyes at Jack, pulling him by the elbow towards Bukayo, starting to snap pictures of the uncomfortable lad in his suit, laughing as he complained about his extra tight shoes.
Jack was on his way to the photo shoot when Hendo walked past him, touching his neck lightly and bursting into the court. He watched from the doorway as Jordan called the latecomers for the photo, commending Declan, Mason and Jadon to hurry up, as everyone else was already waiting for them.
Without a doubt Hendo would be the principal of the school, Jack mused, smiling at himself. They would be so clueless without him.
{x}
Back in the shared room, Jack noticed that Hendo had posted a photo where he was adjusting his tie in his Instagram story. His heart sped up for some unknown reason by seeing them together in suits. Jack spent a full minute staring at the shot. Fuck, they looked fucking hot in this one.
Jack typed a stupid caption, saying how he seemed to be looking at Hendo like he looked at his mother as a child when she made his tie for school. All he wanted was to be witty, but as soon as he reposted the photo he realized how stupid it was. He’d never look at his mother the same way he looked at Jordan, for matters too complex for his tiny brain cells to process.
"I'm such an idiot," Jack groaned in frustration, tossing his cell phone between the blanket and covering his face with his hands.
“What’s new?” Ben chuckled, too distracted by typing on his cell phone—probably talking to Maddison as he always did during nighttime.
"Shut up, you look like a lego," Jack huffed, pulling off the sweaty white sock he'd been wearing all day and tossing it on Ben's bed.
“Aw fuck you, mate!” Ben grunted in disgust, tossing the sock back in disgust. "I wish Madds were here."
"I bet you do," Jack snapped, turning on the television to watch the Love Island rerun. “Fucking wanker.”
{x}
They prepared for the first match of Euros against Croatia with training in the gym and mainly on the pitch; practising finishes, dribbling, mini matches and rondo in groups. From day one at the centre they were competing friendly with each other; who was faster, stronger, lifted more weight and jumped higher. The atmosphere among the team was the best possible, everyone seemed to feel that England had a real chance of winning this time, mixing veterans and newcomers in the squad called.
Jack and Ben were sitting outside the sideline, resting after the running competition, watching their teammates scattered across the lawn. Jack's eyes were automatically drawn to where Hendo was teaming up with Declan, Kalvin, Phil and Tyrone in the centre of the field. He seemed to be explaining something, with his gestures and characteristic serious look. Most of the time it seems as if Henderson was sharing a gaffer position with Gareth.
"He's unbelievable, isn't he?" Jack blurted out softly, not finding all the adjectives he needed to describe Jordan. He didn't know many anyway.
“I know H was chosen to wear the armband by the gaffer and he's great,” Ben muttered to make sure no one else was listening, “But Hendo is masterclass, he's our skipper on and off the pitch.
“He's a fucking legend,” Jack sighed affectionately, squinting at Jordan, his golden-brown hair glinting in the sunlight.
Ben murmured in agreement, brushing the grass off his knees to get up.
“Let’s pop up to say hello,” Ben said, reaching out a hand to help Jack up. The two took the chance to pull Mount by the arm as he crossed the pitch.
When they joined the small group, Jordan grinned, showing his perfectly white and straight teeth, and Jack had never been so grateful for an idea coming from Chilly. He didn’t have many either.
{x}
On the day of the first match, Jack woke up early and decided to take a walk around the floor, hoping to find someone to talk to. He was quite anxious; Southgate had not yet announced the line-up for the match and Jack was hopeful that he’d be starting. He had played well in the friendlies and fans always wanted to see him on the pitch.
None of his friends seemed to be awake yet. Jack heard the dry noises of bouncing balls and leaned over the glass railing to look down at the basketball court. Hendo was there casually, in addition to two physical trainers.
Jack watched the older man throw the ball for a while, recording him scoring a basket and posting it on his Instagram story, saying that he wasn’t bad at all playing basketball—especially compared to himself. Was it possible that Hendo could be good at everything?
When they got on the team bus, Jack saw Jordan's notification reposting his story. He opened it and tried not to laugh at the caption of Hendo saying his mother called him Jordan for a reason.
"What now?” Ben muttered with his brows furrowed, leaning into Jack's seat and snatching the older lad's cell phone out of his hands. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, carrying on in a surprised tone, "You flirting?"
“What? No,” Jack snorted a laugh, retrieving his cell phone and stuffing the device into his sweatshirt pocket, “Nah, it’s just banter.”
“I'm not judging, man,” Ben held up his hands, settling back down correctly in his seat on the bus. Jack refrained from rolling his eyes at his friend; it wasn’t a big deal for fuck's sake. They had more important matters to occupy their minds, like the match against Croatia.
{x}
Jack was not chosen to be a starter at the match against Croatia. He tried not to get frustrated with that decision, especially knowing that Hendo would also be on the bench. He wanted so badly to be on the pitch… but they’d to trust Southgate's choices, even the shitty ones.
It was hard to hide his disappointment as he walked through the tunnel towards the benches, seeing his friends dressed in line for the start of the match. Jack sighed, walking with his head down until he felt a soft touch on the back of his neck.
“Yer chance to play will come, don't worry, Greal,” Jordan murmured with a gentle smile, his fingers gently stroking the hair on the back of the younger's neck.
Jack nodded unconsciously, watching Jordan walk away to his place in the stands. Hendo, with all his experience, knew what was better for the team. Sulking wouldn't help at all, they needed to work together to reach the final.
The match against Croatia was tortuous as always. Elimination at the 2018 World Cup still stung the older ones, but in the end, England managed to win with a Sterling goal. While the boys were celebrating in the locker room, Jack glanced at Jordan sitting in his cubicle next to him, smiling quietly at the gathering in the centre. He should have known that he could trust Jordan's judgment with his eyes closed.