moving day | Heeseung x Jay

five

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"Shake it off!"

It's been two weeks since that dinner together, the expanse of Iceland stretched out before them on the t.v. screen and the older male's plan of venturing there someday. Heeseung didn't have time anymore to eat dinner with Jay, having made his peace with the fact that being a med student and a good roommate was a hard feat to accomplish during the early heat of the second semester.

He had assured Jay that once he got back into a study routine that he'd fallen out of during winter break, he'd be able to spend more time with him. It makes sense, really, since they're older and their time is no longer divided and decided by schools, moms, and extracurriculars.

Jay guesses that this part of growing up.

He remembers a time when he hadn't wanted to grow up; When he believed that underwater kingdoms existed, dinosaurs survived and lived in secret, and UFOs were shy because they had stage fright so they never came out when they could be seen.

Those days are behind him now as he looks at the frustrated goalkeeper in front of him who slaps his cheeks and tries to gather his bearings. Jay never liked the phrase 'shake it off' since it never made him feel any better, but it seems to work well with the Sounders' athletes. Kei has used it plenty of times so Jay has picked it up and started using it too.

"It's okay," He assures. "We're in pre-season, meaning you've had a couple of months to rest. Don't worry about springing back into shape; that'll only matter next month. Right now, just focus on what's in front of you."

"That's just the problem," the frustration from the player is clear. "The ball isn't in front of me half the time. It's already in the goal before I'm going to save it. I shouldn't be this rusty."

"Well, rusty or not, you're gonna shape up and get back into it. Maybe we should save corner shots for when you've worked back some of your confidence." Jay turns to the center forward that had been practicing with them.

"You can be done for the day. Good work." The player nods, sweat dripping down his temple as he turns to go to the locker rooms. The goalkeeper groans behind Jay who frowns. He remembers this frustration from his soccer days but it's still tough to hear it. March is looming over the players as they practice, and Jay can't wait for the preliminary games to begin.

"C'mon, let's practice some underhand saves. You can head out after that."

The goalkeeper nods, and Jay lines up balls along the strip of the goal box. There are still a few players left on the field— stragglers taking a break from resistance training with Kei or sipping water after doing some of the small drills scattered across the field. Jay calls out to three of them, the surnames he had painstakingly forced into his memory against the will of his traitorous brain which had always struggled with names, and they jog over.

The next ten minutes are spent saving one underhand save after another, each coming at the goal with varying speeds due to the growing fatigue of the players after a long day of practice. The goalkeeper is more consistent with his abilities, and he catches a majority of the shots, rolling onto his side in a rhythm that only a goalie knows.

The goalkeeper has the closest thing to satisfaction written on his face when they're done. Jay dismisses everyone and watches the athlete unstrap his gloves as he breathes heavily from the exertion.

"Have you ever wanted to quit?" The male asks, looking up at Jay before focusing on loosening the laces to his shoes and running a soothing thumb over a newly appearing blister on his heel.

"Quit what, soccer?" Jay asks, considering the years he spent on a travel team in middle school.

"Nah, more like, something you just love in general. I guess if that's soccer for you, then sure."

Jay thinks and thinks, and what comes to mind are sharp glimpses of old remembrances, yellow and faded at the edges yet recognizable and beautifully aged like fine wine: Bright white teeth that flash as a figure zips by Jay on a neon green bike; a voice interlaced with fear and uncertainty, beckoning for him beyond azure waves; two acceptance letters directed towards different universities tacked on a bulletin board next to a bead curtain.

"Maybe the thought has crossed my mind, but I never took it seriously," Jay says, swallowing hard. "I think I only ever quit things that I could've loved but didn't."

"Yea?" The goalkeeper leans forward, attentive. "Like what?'"

The images are duller this time: A palomino horse that neighs in alarm at Jay's inexperience; a plate piled high with bacon and the taste of bile in his mouth from excited overconsumption; a girl's face that's hazy, like it came from a past life, and her raven hair billowing in the wind as her laugh, like wind chimes, drifts into the sea air and beyond the shore.

"Things I could've had but I chose not to," Jay answers. He knows it's vague, but the goalkeeper doesn't seem to care, nodding as if his words have some sage-like quality to them that he just happens to understand.

They part ways at the locker room, Jay needing to report to Kei about the accomplishments and setbacks of the day so they can rewrite the training regimen if need be.

People always look back on almosts with disappointment or regret, Jay thinks, as his footsteps echo down the long hallways. But that's because it's usually opportunities that are torn away, not chances that could've been taken willingly.

Jay wonders how his life would be if he had chosen to stay with what he's let go of.

Would he be happier?

He sends a text to Heeseung asking if they'd be eating dinner tonight since it has been a while. He doesn't get a response until twenty minutes later when he's standing at the bus stop and trying to tame the chill racing up his spine due to the cold February temperature. It's an apology about being busy and how they can hopefully do something sometime next week.

I'm sorry, it says, and Jay thinks again, as he boards the bus, that same question. Would he be happier?

Would he?

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"This is stupid." Heeseung had petulantly thrown Jay's goalkeeper gloves on the ground and stomped off, leaving Jay with a soccer ball and no partner to practice punting and blocks with. "I quit."

"Hey! Wait up!" Jay had ran up to his best friend as he'd grumbled, dragging his feet along the sidewalk, and making it only a few feet before Jay grabbed his arm. "Don't just walk off like that!"

"Why not? I suck, don't I? I'll never be good at this." Jay had gaped before glaring and bringing his palm up to push the older boy hard on the nose. The impact jostled Heeseung enough to almost knock him over, shock apparent on his face as he stared back at his offender.

"Hey! Don't push me! Mama said that's what bullies do. You're supposed to be my friend!" Jay had rolled his eyes, annoyance setting in like an old habit even though he was merely six.

"Friends don't let each other down. You told me you'd practice with me. Even if you're not good at it, I want to be. You'll find something you like, and you'll be amazing at it. And when you want me to help you practice, I'll say yes and do it even if I'm even worse than you. Okay?"

Heeseung had looked stricken with shame, twisting the hem of his shirt and pursing his lips.

"Okay."

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A/N - haha idk if anyone caught it but a put a subtle reference to wine drunk in this chapter!