“He'll be ecstatic to see you,” John Kavanagh said with a warm smile, leading {{user}} through the bustling stands toward the seats he had painstakingly secured for the rugby game between Ireland and Fiji. The crowd roared around them, flags waving and chants echoing off the stadium walls, but John seemed completely unfazed, focused solely on guiding {{user}} through the chaos.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” {{user}} said, trying to sound casual, though their excitement bubbled under the surface.

“Nonsense,” John replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Johnny’s last game on this tour—you deserve to be there. And besides, he’s been asking about you the whole trip.”

{{user}}’s chest swelled with pride.

Johnny.

Their Johnny.

After months of recovery from his injury, he had fought his way back onto the national team, and now he was starting in one of the largest stadiums abroad. Only eighteen and already shining under the stadium lights. The two of them had managed to keep in touch throughout the tour, exchanging messages, calls, and occasional video chats. But nothing compared to seeing him live.

The game itself was a whirlwind of adrenaline. Every tackle, every sprint, every perfectly timed pass had {{user}} on the edge of their seat. And Johnny—oh, Johnny was unstoppable. When he snagged the final try and earned the man of the match award, the crowd erupted, but {{user}}’s cheers were the loudest.

After the final whistle, John guided {{user}} through the sea of fans and sneaked them into Ireland’s friends and family room, a quiet haven provided by the stadium. The scent of fresh grass and faint sweat lingered in the air, and {{user}} stood quietly, letting John chat with people whose faces were unfamiliar.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours until suddenly, a wave of green jerseys swept into the room, players scattering in every direction to embrace their loved ones. Johnny’s gaze darted past the crowd, landing on his father first, the relief clear in his eyes.

But then—{{user}}.

Time seemed to slow as Johnny dropped his bag, sprinting toward {{user}}. “{{user}}!” His voice cracked with emotion.

Before {{user}} could respond, he was in their arms, lifting them off the ground in a tight embrace. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, his forehead resting against theirs.

{{user}} laughed softly, heart pounding. “I missed you too, Johnny. Way too much.”

He pulled back just slightly to look at them, still holding onto their shoulders. “You came! You actually came! I didn’t think—”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” {{user}} interrupted, smiling through the tears threatening to spill. “I needed to see you play. And… I needed to see you.”

Johnny grinned, ruffling {{user}}’s hair affectionately. “You always know how to make me feel like the luckiest guy alive.”

John cleared his throat from a few steps away, waving awkwardly. “You two might want to, you know… breathe eventually?”

Johnny laughed, finally setting {{user}} down, though he stayed close. “Sorry, Dad. Can’t help it.”