Chapter Text
AT first, König didn't understand why, of all places, John had chosen to drag him to the back of a random gym. The Scotsman had been groping the bricks next to the metal door for a good few minutes, muttering swear words as if he was looking for something. And when König finally began to think that John might have got confused and entered a strange alleyway, he let out a little squeak of exclamation.
"I knew it was somewhere around here!'' In his snowy, dirty hand was a small, gleaming key. John quickly unlocked the door after placing the brick in the strategic spot from earlier and signalled for König to enter with him quietly.
The place was completely dark, only the light of the moon illuminated a few spots through the skylights. John locked the door behind them again, and without any hesitation, strode blindly through the place, going to the power boxes, unlocking them, and handling the small levers of the circuit breakers. Each light bulb switched on with a pop, and König blinked his eyes to accustom them to the new atmosphere, and the sight made his jaw drop. The gym was much bigger than he had imagined, with mats, weight machines and several punching bags scattered around.
König thought about saying something, but closed his mouth immediately when he looked at John. He had a different expression, his eyes getting lost in every detail and an almost sad smile on his face. It was the same feeling you get when you return after a long time to a place you once called home. The heart simply beats faster, and everything seems to attract a different emotion, smells, objects or whatever, whether they are remembered in a negative or positive way. If it wasn't obvious to König where they were then, it was now.
"It feels like yesterday the last time I got my arse kicked for being late for training...'' John recalled with a chuckle, his mind glazed over with the memories that pained him so much. ''I was never an athlete worthy of being someone's symbol, but I tried my best to make my efforts count. That's why I never stopped. Damn, I can still feel the weight of the punches next to my ear.'' König could feel without him needing to say it that this was much more than just an outburst, it sounded like words full of passion that had been drowned in sewage for too long.
John didn't look back to see that König was following him once he started walking, it was like the effect of being there was hypnotising him, retracing the steps of his old routine. John stopped in front of a sliding door that clearly belonged to the changing rooms, and after a short pause for breath, he touched the handle and pushed it aside. He groped around the walls until he found the power socket to switch on the lights. It was all very ordinary for König, showers, benches, lockers, but it wasn't the same for John. König almost bumped into John's back when he stopped abruptly and began to stare at one of the lockers.
"John?...'' The red-haired man tried to call out to him, but with no success, so he followed his gaze and immediately understood the reason for his reaction: this was John's old locker, which completely exuded his personality. His name was written on a standard plaque, but there was also a large scrawl in permanent pen, and the handwriting was unforgettable. The locker door was full of random stickers from energy drinks brands and competitions he had taken part in, as well as a few notes from old mates.
John touched the padlock and slowly turned the gears with the password that had belonged to all his gaming accounts since he was nine. The click sounded as the lock opened, and soon what was inside the compartment was revealed. Medals, deodorant, photos of John with trophies in his hands and, of course, his gloves. John held the worn gloves delicately, almost as if he thought that at any moment they might disappear and turn to dust. He smoothed the seams with trembling fingers and König noticed that his shoulders began to spasm slightly, indicating that John was about to break down in tears.
"That old fool didn't throw it away like I asked. Fucking selfish bastard!'' As much as John was cursing some poor sod, he had a smile on his face, and his voice was cut off by his throat beginning to close up.
''He saw potential in me when no-one else gave a fuck. He listened to me, saw me, understood me. I owe my achievements more to him than to anyone..." John laughed, and wiped the tears from his eyes, too nervous and stubborn to admit that he didn't want König to see him so broken.
''Sorry about that. You must not understand anything, do you?...'' In fact, König didn't know why John was doing all this, but his heart was filled with pride knowing that John was putting so much trust in him that he was going to revisit the place that had haunted him for years.
"No! Please don't apologise! I'm happy for you, John. Immensely..."
Finally, John decided to look König in the eye. Previously, he had been afraid that König would think his distress at returning to the academy was silly, that his trauma would be seen as something small and unimportant. ''Since I moved here, I'd never really had a conversation with anybody, I'd always been very reserved...'' König confessed, biting his tongue nervously and shuffling his feet. ''When I got the job at the restaurant, I spent weeks thinking that it had been some kind of mistake and that at any moment they'd find out and send me away. I never had the desire to go to work before, to feel at ease with colleagues or anything like that, until...'' König stopped and swallowed, not knowing whether or not to continue speaking.
''So please don't feel bad about your emotions. W-What I mean is... it's okay!" König exclaimed, his voice rising and echoing. John's eyes widened in surprise, but he soon began to laugh as the Austrian began to lose himself in his words and mumble things out of nervousness. John stopped the other man's restless hands and let out a sigh.
"Thank you..." König froze with shock, but his body soon began to relax with relief.
"Thank you, Heinz..." His voice was soft and even, but full of gratitude. John smiled sincerely, and trying to dispel the tension in both their shoulders, he thought of something that would keep them both entertained and make them forget that night of hellish dinner in the restaurant.
"Do you want to find out why I got the nickname Soap?!...''