Shameless | Mason Mount

2. Owe me

Your jaw slightly drops when you see the state he's in, but you remain professional and walk over to him.

You help walk him into the room and he takes a sit on the chair, as you give the other medics the signal that's it's okay for them to leave.

Mason sits on the chair, his soaking wet, white jersey stuck to his defined abs from the rain. He looks at his hands, which are now red from the blood and laughs to himself. You're snapped back into reality when you notice Mason's eyes locked onto yours.

"Are you okay Mason? Can you hear and see me okay?" You ask, genuinely concerned.

"I feel absolutely fine, it's just a small cut but the rain's making it look like a lot of blood. But I thought you were gonna give me another massage?" Mason says with a smirk on his face.

While you're slightly relieved that he's still got his sense of humour and is okay, you need to try to stay professional."That's the only thing you've got to say? You're sitting there covered in your own blood, and not even a bit concerned? One second, let me get you a towel." You say, as you get up to grab a towel from the corner of the room.

"Nah it's fine." He says, as he pulls his top off and starts wiping his face with it. You turn and stare at him, not completely sure what to do.

"There." He says. "Is that better?" He asks, looking directly at you, while you're frozen in the corner of the room. "You've just made it way worse!" You say laughing at him, whose now just got the red randomly smudged across his face. "Just let me do it." You say, picking up a towel and running it under the tap.

You walk over to him and sit down next to him, and start wiping his face clean again. You try to ignore the fact that he's still completely shirtless, and just carry on.

You eventually find him an extra shirt to put on and treat his injuries accordingly, before giving him a heat pack and making sure that he's definitely okay.  "You're good to go back out, but I wouldn't advise you to play." You state.

"To go and be a benchwarmer for the rest of the game? I'll pass thanks, I'd rather stay here." He replies, in a sassy but sarcastic tone. "You're not the one who decides if you stay or not, I am." You answer, walking over to the walkie-talkie.

"Sooo can I stay or not then?" He asks, implying he knows what the answer will be. "Fine." You say, putting on an annoyed tone. "But only if you're not going to be annoying." You add. "Me? Annoying? Never." He says.

"Where were you earlier?" He asks. "What do you mean?" You reply, confused about when he was talking about. "Oh, I came here earlier because I wanted a massage, but you weren't here. I waited for a while, but then I got bored so I just left." He says. "So you're the one who left muddy footsteps all over my room?" You say, "You better clean that up because I'm not going to."

"About that massage, can I have it now? You kinda owe me one." He says, smirking.

"How do I owe you one?" You ask, while rolling your eyes. "Well first off, you messed up my hair from the rain; secondly, maybe if you'd have given me a massage earlier, my legs would be faster and I'd be able to run away from the big guy who elbowed me in the head anyways." He says, his arms crossed.

"How was the rain my fault?- Whatever. Fine." You say, finally giving in to Mason. To be honest, you aren't completely mad you are stuck giving him a massage alone in the warm, while everyone else is in the cold rain outside.

He pulls his shirt off in one quick movement, tossing it on the nearest table. He starts to walk over, but you can't help but admire the view- Of the football pitch.

You figured it would be the best method to not stare as masons bare chest, so you just sit there staring intensely at the football pitch, trying to block out your peripheral vision which is begging to admire the real view.

"You look very concentrated on that football game there." Mason says, knowing exactly what you're trying to do.

"Just get on the bed." You say, finally looking at Mason. "Well I do like a girl who moves fast-" Mason says, purposely making your comment dirty.

"You know that's not what I meant, and even though you're obviously joking, it could get us both in a lot of trouble." You say, staying professional.

"Who said I was joking?" Mason says, with a smile that's both innocent and not at the same time.

He lays on the massage bed and you start at his shoulders; you can feel his muscles loosen and relax at your touch. You slowly work your way down his back and keep applying pressure, while your thoughts start to go wild. "There's no way I actually like Mason. And even if I do, it's forbidden for a player and worker to be in a relationship. He definitely doesn't even like me, probably barely even thinks of me as a friend."  You think to yourself.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted when you hear the doors swing open, and both you and Mason's head turns to see who it is. Standing in the doorway awkwardly is none other than Jude Bellingham, confused to what's going on.

You quickly stand up and ask: "Oh hey Jude, is everything okay?"  He stands there for a moment, and you can visibly tell that he is thinking of a response. "Uh yeah, I came because my knee was hurting, but it feels better now. Wow you just looking at it made it better, you really are magic Y/n!" He eventually splutters, while winking at Mason and trying to play it off cool.

He then walks off, and carries on playing. "Well that was weird." You say, laughing. "Yeah, he's always like that." Mason says. "Honestly never know what to expect with him at this point."

...

"How are you feeling?" Who ask Mason, as he gets off the massage bed after the long session. "A lot better, thanks." He replies, smiling.

"You should probably go back now, it's been about an hour." You say to him, as you get his football jersey and a few things to help his cut. "Probably." He says, in a tone that shows he can't be bothered.

You pass him his football jersey that was once white, but is now more red from the rain and blood combined. "Wow thanks." He says sarcastically, as he puts it on. "Nothing I love more than a blood stained jersey."

You laugh, before saying "Well, if it makes it any better, you look good in red." His head turns to you. "I look good in every colour." He says sarcastically, while rolling his eyes and fixing his hair. "At least you aren't cocky about it." You say, laughing.

"If anyone asks why you were gone for so long, tell them your ankle was hurting, okay?" You say, walking him over to the door. "Okay, will do." He replies. "Good. Now go away, I don't want to see you in here any time soon, learn how to be more careful." you state. "If you don't miss me that is." Mason says, before you slam the doors in front of him.

You walk back over to the massage bench and sit down, thinking about everything that's been happening recently. The football game is almost finished, and only has a few minutes to spare. The score is 2-2, and with Mason on the bench, you don't know if we will end up winning.

Jude ends up scoring in the last minute, securing the win. The crowd cheers, jumping around and chanting all kinds of things.

You pick up the towel and start cleaning up from mason, tidying the bed and making sure everything is sterile. While fixing the pillows on the massage bed, you feel a small piece of paper between two of them.

You pull it out and find that it's a phone number, Mason's number he left for you.