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This was actually ridiculously hard. I had a totally different timestamp started with two different opening moments and just couldn't capture what I wanted. So here's a different one. HAH.
Happy Hanukkah to countess7!! 440 words of softball timestampy goodness!
The Gamecocks fly through the new summer league, obliterating the competition at a ridiculous rate. Every single game - every single one - is over by the end of the fifth inning in a disgusting show of slaughter rule after slaughter rule after slaughter rule. When they so easily crush Miller Tap, a team whose only loss came in the second week to the Gamecocks, they’re all smiles and handing out easy high fives.
But Jensen can tell it isn’t the same.
As the crew rounds up their things, changing cleats for shoes and flip flops, gathering bats and softballs, he asks Jared, “You okay?” with a nudge to his side.
Jared glances at him then goes back to the task of getting his equipment back into his bat bag. “Yeah, why?”
“Kinda quiet.”
He shrugs and makes a face, looking at his teammates who are equally settled. “I'm fine,” he says with another shrug. “You ready for the bar?”
In the car, Jared is still calm, betraying the way he’d chattered on and on when they were headed to the game. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
Jensen shakes his head and continues driving. It’s when he parks in the lot of the bar that he finally turns to Jared and gives a long look. “We just won.”
Jared shrugs. “Yeah?”
“And no one’s going crazy.”
He shrugs again. “Easy game.”
“We won the championship,” Jensen clarifies slowly. “We swept the league. No one’s celebrating.”
“We’re at the bar. This is celebrating.”
Jensen clears his throat and shifts to face Jared, motioning a hand between them. “I watched you for an entire season throwing hissy fits when you lost. And then going crazy like you won the lottery with every good play. What’s this?”
Jared takes a moment and gives a thoughtful look out the front window. “I dunno.” Another shrug and he looks at Jensen. “Just feels different, I guess.”
“Why? Why’s it different?”
“Just … different league. Different team. You know?”
Jensen gives a long long and shakes his head. “Different team? It’s everyone from last year.”
“You’re here.”
The way that Jared says it so simply strikes Jensen oddly. He keeps staring and suddenly thinks of how over the summer, Jared had been more calm and relaxed about the team than Jensen had ever imagined. Jared hardly complained or even talked about his own play, or anyone else on the field.
The corner of Jared’s mouth twitches like he’s hiding a smile. “Just different this year.”
Chad pounds a quick beat on the hood of the car and smirks. “You gaybags comin’ or what?”
Now that … that’s normal.
Happy Hanukkah to countess7!! 440 words of softball timestampy goodness!
The Gamecocks fly through the new summer league, obliterating the competition at a ridiculous rate. Every single game - every single one - is over by the end of the fifth inning in a disgusting show of slaughter rule after slaughter rule after slaughter rule. When they so easily crush Miller Tap, a team whose only loss came in the second week to the Gamecocks, they’re all smiles and handing out easy high fives.
But Jensen can tell it isn’t the same.
As the crew rounds up their things, changing cleats for shoes and flip flops, gathering bats and softballs, he asks Jared, “You okay?” with a nudge to his side.
Jared glances at him then goes back to the task of getting his equipment back into his bat bag. “Yeah, why?”
“Kinda quiet.”
He shrugs and makes a face, looking at his teammates who are equally settled. “I'm fine,” he says with another shrug. “You ready for the bar?”
In the car, Jared is still calm, betraying the way he’d chattered on and on when they were headed to the game. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
Jensen shakes his head and continues driving. It’s when he parks in the lot of the bar that he finally turns to Jared and gives a long look. “We just won.”
Jared shrugs. “Yeah?”
“And no one’s going crazy.”
He shrugs again. “Easy game.”
“We won the championship,” Jensen clarifies slowly. “We swept the league. No one’s celebrating.”
“We’re at the bar. This is celebrating.”
Jensen clears his throat and shifts to face Jared, motioning a hand between them. “I watched you for an entire season throwing hissy fits when you lost. And then going crazy like you won the lottery with every good play. What’s this?”
Jared takes a moment and gives a thoughtful look out the front window. “I dunno.” Another shrug and he looks at Jensen. “Just feels different, I guess.”
“Why? Why’s it different?”
“Just … different league. Different team. You know?”
Jensen gives a long long and shakes his head. “Different team? It’s everyone from last year.”
“You’re here.”
The way that Jared says it so simply strikes Jensen oddly. He keeps staring and suddenly thinks of how over the summer, Jared had been more calm and relaxed about the team than Jensen had ever imagined. Jared hardly complained or even talked about his own play, or anyone else on the field.
The corner of Jared’s mouth twitches like he’s hiding a smile. “Just different this year.”
Chad pounds a quick beat on the hood of the car and smirks. “You gaybags comin’ or what?”
Now that … that’s normal.