#trying to build up a little bit of tension for the Jay-has-a-terrible-time-at-college fic

[thebluestbluewords]

go sportsball

"Open!" Jay shouts. He's not their only player who's open right now, but Tim is hesitating, and Cal's position is a lot more likely to be swarmed by the other side of their scrim team if Tim passes to him. There's two guys coming up behind him from downfield, so it makes the most sense for Tim to pass to Jay, and then he can zigzag to the right, evade the defencemen, because he knows for a fact that he's faster than Franklin, who's wearing the white training pinney for the other team today, even though they usually work really well together, and get it back to Cal if he can break through the upcoming middies to give him the goal. 

Jay's fast. He knows that he's fast. He sees further ahead than most of the other freshmen guys, which is why he knows that he's the best choice to pass to. 

Tim glances at him, and his shoulders tense-- 

And then he swings the other way and passes to Cal. 

Jay's one of the fastest guys on the Sherwood U tourney team, but he's not fast enough to intercept the middies coming up behind Cal before they're on top of him. Tourney isn't usually full contact in practice scrims, so he pulls up short instead of throwing himself into the white-shirted teammates shoulder-checking Cal for the ball. 

They lose control. 

It's not worth the bruises that Jay'll take trying to steal control back right now, so he falls back to his usual winger position at Tim's side, and lets their defence handle it. It's not actually a big deal if they lose the scrim, it's just fucking embarassing to lose forward control over a single fucked-up pass. 

"Dude, I was open." Jay calls, jogging closer to Tim so he doesn't have to shout quite so loud. "You could've passed my way."

Tim glances at him again, then looks away instead of responding. 

Fuckin' weird.  

"We okay, man?" Jay offers. They're supposed to be improving team communication outside of their usual pairings, so maybe that's why Tim's embarrassed to have lost forward control. "I can signal instead of shouting if that's better for you." 

"Whatever, man." Tim grumbles. Jay can't read his face super well under the helmet, but the extra vibes that his magic picks up aren't showing embarrassment. Jay's not great at reading his new team yet, which makes his whole magic deal harder to utilize effectively, but the vibe he's getting is mostly annoyance and maybe a little bit of fear. 

Nobody else had been afraid of the big scary Isle kid at college so far, but hey, first time for everything. 

"Sorry if I wasn't loud enough," Jay tries. Apologizing makes him less intimidating, more charming. "I was just thinking for the longer play-- Cal had those guys on top of him, and I had the opening to evade and pass back to him once they changed course. We could try passing quicker next time. If we can weave and get the ball moving we can probably outrun 'em."

Tim nods, quickly.  "Maybe, sure." 

Jay bounces on his toes, tracking the motion of the ball back to their defence. "We're the stronger half right now. We can do better. If we stay fast--" 

"Man, shut up," Tim grumbles. "We're not all prep kids here." 

Jay's stomach flips over, like he's missed a step on the stairs. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it." 

"Dude--" 

The coach's whistle shrieks out over the field. "GOAL, WHITE TEAM." 

Well, fuck. 

"HUDDLE UP BOYS, LET'S DEBRIEF AND RESET."