Bad Habit

sixteen

Moss was glad to have woken up in Finny's bed. Thankfully he wasn't cuddled against the boy like the last two times; instead, Finny was already up and moving around, getting dressed and pulling clothes from his closet. Moss groaned rubbed his tired eyes before sitting up just slightly, immediately feeling the sickness of having drank so much the night prior. "Fuck me," he mumbled under his breath.

"As appealing as that sounds," Finny replied with a smirk, "we haven't got time to fool around. I let you sleep in because I know you blew your brains out with the drinks last night, but now you've got to awaken. I pulled out some shirts for you to choose from, and some pants too, in case you wanted to change those." Moss yawned and swung his legs out from the bed before he planted his feet firmly on the ground.

"Can't I just lay in your bed all day?" Moss asked. "You can go to school, I'll stay here."

"Unfortunately, we must suffer together," Finny laughed, throwing some supplies into his backpack. "Get your drunk ass up and get ready." 

Moss obliged and stood up, pulling his black tee shirt over his head. He threw it on the floor and reached for the pile of shirts Finny arranged for him to choose from. After filtering through, he picked a  generic enough looking band shirt and threw it on, then looked down to his legs. He decided to change into a pair of Finny's skinny jeans instead of his old black ones. Once changed, he folded up his clothes and held them under his arm to put in his car later. "Did you want to drive in together?" Finny asked from the bathroom. "You know, like, if you're still a bit tipsy."

"I would, but I've got to drive myself in," replied Moss who was fixing his hair in Finny's bedroom mirror. "I have practice directly after school."

"Well, why don't I drive us in and then I can pick you up from practice?" Finny replied again, ducking into the bedroom and laughing at Moss who was still fixing his hair. "That way we can come back here or get some food." Moss raised his eyebrows and realized that he liked the sound of that plan. He knew he'd be in a shit mood after practice, but Finny would help cheer him up and make him forget about all the bullshit.

"Good call," Moss responded, "practice ends at six, so be there at six."

--

Moss was dead on about practice making him feel like shit. The whole team was beyond unreceptive to Moss' homecoming, and they all somewhat ignored him. Even Coach ignored him, which he didn't mind at all, but it felt as if he was completely useless. Like he was no longer needed for anything; not for moral, not as a mentor, and certainly not as a player. So going through the motions of practice when he knew he was suspended for at least tree games was agonizing, The only ray of hope getting him through was knowing that he'd soon be with Finny. Finny, Finny, Finny.

When all of his things were packed away in his bag, Moss attempted to leave the locker room. But of course, things were never so easy. He heard a grossly familiar voice call his name and order him into the office, and knowing he didn't have much of a choice, Moss followed it. He closed the coach's door behind him and leaned against it with his arms crossed and face stern. Coach was seated at his desk, much like he had been the day prior. "You did well in practice," Brock muttered under his breath while Moss cursed himself out for feeling his heart flutter at the praise. "Thank you for showing up and for being civil about the whole thing. I'm cutting your suspension to one game only."

Moss breathed a sigh of relief. One game was better than three. "Great," he said, refusing to show any type of gratitude. "Is that all?"

"I want you to stop being this way with me," Coach said suddenly, standing up out of his chair. Moss flinched and tried to inch backwards, but he was already too close to the door. "Do you think I enjoy having this awkward tension between us? You're my player, I'm your coach, we shouldn't be so on edge around each other. I don't want you to resent me."