SH 2015: YDSTC (for taeekai)
For: taeekai
From: ANONYMOUS until May 22, 2015
Title: YDSTC
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Focus: Suho/Chen, slightly implied Suho/Sehun
Length: 4,900 words
Summary: Joonmyeon is the Perfect Team Captain of the volleyball team, but sometimes even Perfect Team Captains forget sunscreen.
Warning/s: hinted underage consensual sex
Notes: Dear recipient, this prompt called me like a siren towards the inevitable shipwreck. No ships were wrecked in this fic though. I hope you like this, though I strayed a little from your original prompt.
I twinkered a little with their ages, so assume ChanBaekSooHo and Chen are same age.
thanks a. and p. for pushing me, dressed as an anime character, alone, on the scariest ride ever. It really didn't help my self-confidence, but thank you for being the jerk friends I sometimes need.
1st set.
“Please explain to me again why we let Baekhyun go sign us up this year?” Kyungsoo complains as he stretches his arms over his head, bending from side to side.
Joonmyeon sighs, grabbing the tip of his left shoe. Thinking about it now, when they are wearing orange t-shirts with ‘YDSTC_1’ written in Comic Sans across their chests, it was really a bad idea. The Comic Sans is really excessive, and the blue letters against the orange fabric make for a really ugly combination, but they do stand out against the sea of simple blues, blacks and pastels of the other teams and that was probably Baekhyun’s only goal.
Joonmyeon switches to the tip his right shoe just when Kyungsoo folds himself in half pushing his open palms to the ground. It is always a little surprising how easy it is for Kyungsoo to fold and bend at the most awkward angles, making it hard not to stare at the gentle planes of his body. Yet, they have been friends for so long Joonmyeon has come to realize the kind of warmness he feels when he allows himself to look, is mere appreciation or all that is good and nice in life, like a nice butt.
He changes from his right to his left looking at this year’s competition. There are a few new faces around the courts set up on a lesser frequented side of the beach, and he can see Chanyeol already mingling with some of them, meanwhile Baekhyun and their water bottles are nowhere to be seen.
Usually there is at least six of them, split into three teams that always fight for a prize of their own, ice-cream, club chores, homework, but this year it different for a lot of reasons.
The first time, though, it was just Joonmyeon and Kyungsoo, who met by chance during a family vacation, and who thought why not when a girl in a hot pink summer dress had given them a flier with ‘Beach Volley Summer!’ written in block letters at the top.
Not used to play on the sand, they brought home a meager seventh place (out of ten) and a pale blue bow. Back to school the news had spread through the team, but how it turned from ‘casual meeting on the beach’ to them piling up in Joonmyeon’s battered car with two bottles of sun screen each and an endless supply of mixtapes to feed the stereo, Joonmyeon is still unsure. He is really not complaining, though.
Summer is a long reliving breath for Joonmyeon, who finally manages to let himself fall into that blurry line that separates Perfect Team Capitan Joonmyeon, who never lets a ball fall in his court, who has a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on always ready for anyone in need, and Kim Joonmyeon the beyond Messy teenager who still finds hasn’t met that side of himself that finds matching socks a necessity. Here he can be both since treating everyone out for dinner after a long day spent on the beach is payment enough for not picking up his damp bathrobe after a shower when they are back in their rooms.
“Hi,” a voice suddenly startles him from his reverie. He squints, when upon raising his eyes he is met with the strong rays of the sun, which surround the guy’s head like a very disturbing halo. “Baekhyun told me to bring you these,” he says showing two bottles of ice cold water.
Kyungsoo snorts and takes one with a murmured thank you, while Joonmyeon is a little slower and needs the guy to shove the bottle in his face to remember how to use his hands.
“Thanks,” he says, and then “I’m Joonmyeon.”
“I know,” the guy says with his smiling lips. “Baekhyun told me. I’m Jongdae.”
“Right,” Joonmyeon muses to himself, feeling the heavy weight of Kyungsoo’s unimpressed stare on his shoulders.
Jongdae is wearing a pale pink shirt with ‘Kim Jong Bros’ written in heavy black across his chest, sign that he is most likely taking part in the tournament. Jongdae must have spent a long time on the beach because his hair looks dry and there is a healthy tan to his skin that Joonmyeon lets himself be bitter about for just a second before his eyes rise to Jongdae’s face and he is bitter for a whole another reason.
“Is this your first year?” Jongdae crosses his arms over his chest and stands on Joonmyeon’s right with no intention of leaving.
“No, it’s… I think it’s our fourth. You?”
“First, I usually just come to watch.” He grins giving Joonmyeon a once over. “I don’t remember anyone quite so colorful last year.” There is mirth in Jongdae’s eyes, the kind that reminds him of Baekhyun, but far more dangerous. Joonmyeon takes another gulp of water.
Last year they wore inconspicuously blue shirts. Their teams were called ‘Ducklings (_1_2_3)’, they got second and third and sixth place. Kyungsoo buried Chanyeol in the sand for being ‘the tallest wasted space to ever play volleyball’ and Chanyeol let him, if only because ‘being buried in sand’ was in his summer bucket list. Duckling_1 had then threated everyone to a fancy dinner of fried chicken.
“It’s nice, though. Orange kind of suits you.”
It doesn’t, but Joonmyeon smiles and says thank you.
The sand is hot, but comfortably so when Joonmyeon and Kyungsoo take their stances for the first game of the day. Joonmyeon’s eyes are focused on the ball about to come his way, but his mind flies back at Jongdae’s embarrassed laughter when asked about his beach volley skills.
“None whatsoever,” he answered candidly, and laughed at himself with such resignation that Joonmyeon had to laugh too, if only to commiserate. There are many things Joonmyeon is resigning himself about. Like keep his head in the game if he didn’t want to end up buried in the sand on the shore by a very angry Kyungsoo, while he’d much rather see how those nonexistent skill of Jongdae’s translate in a game. Or maybe just see Jongdae sweat on a volleyball court. Yes, that.
Their match is quick, much quicker than Joonmyeon expected. They win, of course, because Kyungsoo is a strategist and also intimidating and Joonmyeon is the Captain of his own emotions and can stay focused on the game for as long as it takes them to asphalt the opponent team. Kyungsoo reaches for his backpack and gulps down what is left of his water before giving Joonmyeon a once over.
“You should put on some more sun screen,” he says in the same tone Joonmyeon’s father used when he told him that he really couldn’t fly, even with the cape. ‘Your tan is never going to happen’ is what Kyungsoo is really saying. “Then go find that guy from this morning and ask him out, I’m not going to allow any more slack than I already have.”
Joonmyeon gapes at his Vice Captain and straightens his obnoxious orange shirt. Though this is why Kyungsoo is his second in command, Joonmyeon is not used to have Kyungsoo’s whipping directed at himself.
“I should?” he asks instead.
“Yes, your nose is turning red.” Kyungsoo answers as they make their way towards the shade of the trees.
“No, I meant asking Jongdae out.”
“He flirted with you while you were wearing this,” he says, making a face as he eyes his own obnoxious orange shirt. “I think he is a keeper. Our next match is in fifteen minutes. Go. Shoo.”
Only partly reassured by Kyungsoo’s words, Joonmyeon grabs his Beach Man Bag and sets off to find Jongdae. On the way he checks his phone and finds three picture-texts from Zitao, who is also on a beach, somewhere fancier though, with his family and wrote the name of their team on the sand.
>>the sea ate it hyung… we’re going to win this year too!
He sends a thumbs up, and some more emojis for good measure. He toes off his shoes and ties them to the strap of his Beach Man Bag, before walking near the shore, letting the water lick at his feet. It’s chilly, tickles as it caresses his skin, Tao would probably take a picture. He fishes out his phone, hides his toes under the wet sand and keeps his camera ready for the next wave.
While he glares at the screen, as he bends a little backwards to get the perfect angle, he doesn’t really pay attention to his surroundings, so when Jongdae approaches him Joonmyeon doesn’t register it until Jongdae greets him with a loud and cheerful. “Hey!”
Caught off guard, Joonmyeon can only watch in horror as his phone spirals out of his hands onto the sand, just as the next wave is coming. It’s Jongdae who manages to get it before the worst, but all Joonmyeon sees is a blur of pink and then his precious phone is back in his hands.
He lets out a startled laugh, as he meets Jongdae’s eyes.
“Sorry,” Jongdae says, smiling sheepishly.
“No, I was… distracted.” He smiles.
Jongdae pushes his fuzzy hair away from his forehead, smiling back.
(Joonmyeon 0 - Jongdae 1)
time out.
When he gets to the cafeteria, Joonmyeon has probably enough time to get just one slice of pizza and probably gulp down one sip of water to avoid chocking. It is sad that he is also not hungry and, despite feeling his mouth as dry as Baekhyun’s humor, even water seems hard to swallow at the moment. At such times, though, having a plan is all Joonmyeon can cling on and his plan is to get a slice of pizza, eat it, gulp down some water and get to his next class before getting a note for being late.
His plan works until he feels a hand between his shoulder blades just while he is toying with the label of his water bottle, as he waits to get to the register.
“Hyung,” it is not so much a whine as it is a plea and Joonmyeon has learned every little nuance of if both on court and outside. “We saved you a seat, where have you been?”
Sehun frowns, but it usually does not mean concern, just a general dislike for some things in life that catch him off guard, and Joonmyeon being late for lunch break seems to fall into that category today. “Thank you,” Joonmyeon smiles, patting Sehun’s free arm. “I’ll be right over.”
Joonmyeon sits between Chanyeol and Tao, because Chanyeol talks enough for Joonmyeon’s silence to go unnoticed and Zitao is most likely to drape himself all over Joonmyeon’s side and human contact is exactly what Joonmyeon needs right now. Logically, Joonmyeon knows he has just done the right thing, that the ‘tears of today are the smiles of tomorrow’ but he still can’t help but feel a little guilty and that guilt is like dirt on his soul.
Zitao nudges his side and grins when Joonmyeon nudges back, before throwing an arm around his senior’s shoulders, squeezing. The pizza is not that good, but he is stomach is untying enough for him to get down that much.
“So,” Kyungsoo is steering them both towards their next class when he decides to breach the subject. “Anything you feel like sharing?”
“We are going to need a new manager,” Joonmyeon sighs. The cute second year was their third since Joonmyeon had taken over the captain position and the two before her had left, albeit in a quieter way, for similar reasons.
Kyungsoo does not look particularly surprised, the first two times already got rid of all that. It is sad to think that they have a system now.
“Oh well, I’m sure Fish would be happy to know his old home has served such a high purpose,” he grins in Joonmyeon’s direction.
“Let’s put the snack card in after Sehun has drawn, ok? I don’t want any casualties so close to the match.” Joonmyeon says with a shiver.
Kyungsoo grimaces. They are probably both thinking about the sandwich debacle of their second fishbowl ruffle. Neither ready to reminisce about it yet, they separate at the end of the hallway in complete silence.
By the time he pulls on his shorts and shrugs on a ratty t-shirt, Joonmyeon has piled up quite a lot of things he needs to get out of his system. On the field he can figuratively slap as hard as his body will allow - not in a particular order - the neighbor kid who thought throwing mud on Joonmyeon’s clean uniform that hung outside to dry was the funniest thing ever, the stupid class’ potted plant that had decided to die in his care during the week-end and lastly his excuse of a love life that was nothing like how his sister’s magazine or any given romantic comedy described. Even if he began playing volleyball because grass stains never appealed to him even as a kid, volleyball has become a very effective stress reliever, one he has come to turn to a little too often as of lately.
“Is something bothering you today?” Hakyeon, their setter, asks after Joonmyeon has tried to dig a hole in their gym floor with a ball.
“We need Kyungsoo’s fishbowl again.” is Joonmyeon’s explanation as he slides under the net to position himself behind the three meters line.
No ball shalt pass today.
2nd set.
“You got a date,” Baekhyun says, eyeing Joonmyeon skeptically. “On the first day,” he looks at Kyungsoo who shrugs, then back at Joonmyeon, bent over his suitcase. Did he turn temporarily colorblind while packing? Why couldn’t he at least put in one nice outfit?
“You proclaimed celibate, that’s why.” Kyungsoo supplies. That he did, but it was just after the celebratory team party. He also said he’d bleach his hair blonde that night, so why did he only follow on the celibate? “Though I don’t know if it’s a step forward from blushing twinky sex.”
Baekhyun whelps, Joonmyeon lets out a sound of discomfort, and Chanyeol, bless his soul, chooses that moment to come out of the bathroom. He cradles the white fluffy hotel provided bathrobe and sighs whistfully. “I am going to marry this bathrobe.”
“Well, at least you are not putting yourself up for inevitable rejection,” Baekhyun snorts from the bed. Chanyeol pounces him in retaliation.
“I could totally charm the pants off anyone,” Chanyeol smirks, making himself comfortable across Baekhyun’s back.
“Really now?” Baekhyun is smiling creepily as he bends his neck awkwardly to look at Chanyeol.
“You are so on.”
They stare at each other for a long moment until Kyungsoo accidentally drops the guide book he had been reading catching everyone’s attention, even Joonmyeon’s, and goes to open the window because they clearly need the fresh air.
“You can borrow something of mine,” he says to Joonmyeon. “Don’t stain it, don’t stretch it, if any bodily fluid comes in contact with it, please burn it.”
After deciding that not getting sick outweighed showing off his nice toned arms, Joonmyeon chooses a light cotton shirt, slightly holey, but the fashionable kind of holey that also highlights his collarbones, which are also great, according to Chanyeol who gives him two thumbs up out of two, against Baekhyun’s half.
“If you start thinking about how to steal Christmas, it’s the sweater, take it off immediately before it sucks away all your feelings,” Baekhyun warns.
While he slips out of their room, Joonmyeon has just time to witness Kyungsoo’s feline reflexes as he jumps Baekhyun on the bed, ready to smother him with Chanyeol’s bathrobe.
Jongdae is already waiting outside, blinding smile in place as he waves cutely when he spots Joonmyen jogging down the stairs. It takes a moment to register, but when it does it’s hard to look anywhere but the colorful and painfully ugly Hawaiian button down Jongdae is wearing. Luckily Jongdae merely snorts at Joonmyeon’s baffled face.
“Hey, I was able to look past the arguable orange, I expect the same treatment,” he isn’t smiling, but the amusement is clear in his eyes.
“Is this a preliminary test?” he asks, scowling.
Joonmyeon scratches his chin, giving Jongdae a once over, “The flowers… they suit you, they go with the whole beach-y flowerboy thing you have going on.”
“Pass,” Jongdae says, easily draping an arm around Joonmyeon’s shoulders.
As they make their way up the hill to the bristling town center, Jongdae pulls him in an easy banter about what is suitable first date food, while Joonmyeon vetoes anything that ‘dribbles and stains permanently’, Jongdae laughs and says he has exactly what they need.
They settle for street food, ‘Greasy but easy’, picking something from the stands Jongdae pointed out as the best in town.
“So, why did you sign up for the tournament?” Joonmyeon asks. They are sitting on a bench just outside the chaos of the main street, with their dinner to separate them.
“Well, my little cousin is antsy because I’ll be going to college in the fall and he wanted to make special memories this summer,” Jongdae looks bashful as he stabs his last takoyaki. “His pout is really something, let me tell you.”
Joonmyeon pats his back, daring to let his hand trail down Jongdae’s spine in a soothing motion. Jongdae smiles minutely, the corners of his lips curving prettily, he looks at Joonmyeon with something soft in his eyes.
“Would it be too bold of me to ask you to take a walk on the beach?” he asks.
“Only if it were to be too bold of me to say yes,” Joonmyeon winches at how corny that sounded. He should have just said something cool like ‘After you’ or something quick like ‘Let’s’. Jongdae laughs though, it’s small and probably out of pity, but there is no derision and Joonmyeon has been told he can be quite endearing. Jongdae could be into endearing.
“Let’s go then,” Jongdae grins.
They throw out the take out the greasy take out cartons and they both take off their shoes when they reach the beach. Jongdae being a local means Joonmyeon has little to worry about directions, but also that if Jongdae turned out to be a serial killer it could take days for anyone to find him. He follows anyway, trailing after Jongdae until he is tugged forward by the hand, standing side by side with a smugly smiling Jongdae. The sand is still hot and Joonmyeon buries the tip of his feet at every step, it’s a nice feeling and Jongdae’s hands are as warm as the sand, fitting between Joonmyeon’s fingers effortlessly, like sand.
They walk leisurely, dragging their feet until there is no more sand and a mountain of smooth rocks stands in their way. Jongdae tells him about that time Jongin wanted to climb up to the top, but ended up falling on his face as they raced here and cried when sand got in his mouth and Lu Han tried to wash his mouth with seawater only to make him cry harder because it was salty.
It’s dark already, the town’s lights are like fireflies and Joonmyeon drops himself on the sand, back leaning against the smooth rock, Jongdae at his left.
“Hey,” Joonmyeon says nudging Jongdae’s foot with his.
Jongdae nudges back. “What?”
Jongdae is smiling when Joonmyeon leans in so he mostly kisses his teeth, but they get better, boy do they get better. There is the sound of the see and the moon and Jongdae’s warm skin and it’s just like his sister magazine said, with the butterflies flapping away inside his ribcage, tickling his heart and making his stomach churn…
“Mhn… yes… ” a distinctly female voice moans.
They both freeze. Jongdae has his hands buried in Joonmyeon’s hair and Joonmyeon is halfway through dragging Jongdae on his lap, they stare at each other in total silence.
“Oh my god honey… ” male this time, accompanied by a gurgling sound neither of them care to identify.
Jongdae’s eyes go huge and they both need to put a hand over their mouth to stop themselves from burst right out laughing. As more deities get mentioned and the air gets steamier, Joonmyeon grabs Jongdae’s hand and they run.
(Joonmyeon 1 - Jongdae 1)
time out.
The crowd cheers loudly, but no player is paying attention. In front of him, Kyungsoo, with his tape wrapped fingers signals for middle court. They got this, they can do this. Final of the season and they are not here to lose The table score glows, the red 29 - 30 mocks him. The referee blows her whistle and the sound of Chanyeol’s hand hitting the ball is deafening in Joonmyeon’s ears. One, the other team’s Libero’s shoes shriek as he throws himself on the floor to get the ball, not an easy one, sending it towards the waiting hands of their setter. Two, three, and their middle blocker sends a fast ball right behind Kyungsoo.
Their team is like a blob, though, they move together and leave no holes for their opponents to exploit. It wasn’t easy to get there, with petty fights and squabbles blowing up at every practice and after every game, but Joonmyeon brought them there, with cold showers and a lot of collective punishment laps around the track field.
Sehun manages to catch the opposite hitter off guard with a very mean, but very well placed, dink right behind the middle blocker, and the referee whistles the end of the game.
There is a subdued round of cheers as they get in line to congratulate the other team on a good match, net separating them, but as soon as the last hands have been shaken, the last good jobs have been uttered, Joonmyeon barely has the time to take a breath and he is swept off his feet by a very excited Zitao.
“We won!” someone is shouting and all he can do is laugh because they did! They won!!!
Joonmyeon whoops, arms in the air as Zitao twirls him around like a puppet before depositing him, not so graciously, on the ground again. He sways a little, still laughing, when an arm loops around his neck.
“Hyung,” Sehun’s smile is blinding, with his eyes so small and the sweaty bangs that hide his perfectly curved eyebrows. The pit of Joonmyeon’s stomach falls, heavy with everything he has put off till now, piled up in a corner, under the rug that more than once Sehun dragged away from under his feet with just a smile. He squeezes back, sneaking an arm around Sehun’s torso, because he will never not want to give back all the affection Sehun seems always so prone to give him, to give everyone.
3rd set.
The party is graciously hosted by Jongdae’s friend, Lu Han, son of the owners of the bazar/bike rental that faces the beach. The house is not big, but has a garden big enough to fit Everyone, with Everyone being a grand total of five people. Jongin, the whiny cousin, Lu Han the host, Yixing, surf instructor, Kris, their ride and Minseok, resident chef.
Jongdae introduces the four newcomers while glued to Joonmyeon’s side. It’s their last day, the trophy from the tournament is already in his suitcase, along with seashells, a little bottle of white sand, a million pictures and a thousand questions.
There is an inflatable pool full of water and the one that was introduced as their host, Lu Han, is sitting on a foldable chair with his feet in the water. His oversized sunglasses hide most of his face, but his grin, while Joonmyeon takes a sit in the empty foldable chair beside him, is enough to make him borderline uncomfortable.
“I’m Lu Han,” the guy says, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, Joonmyeon.”
Joonmyeon smiles, taking Lu Han’s hand, only to find himself yanked forward and uncomfortably close to Lu Han’s face. Pulling up the sunglasses Lu Han reveals two big scrutinizing eyes that seem to be well bent on boring a hole into Joonmyeon’s soul. “You are cute.”
Joonmyeon gapes, mouth round like an ‘o’ and eyes blinking stupidly and Lu Han’s smile turns into a full blown laugh. He is so ugly when he laughs it’s endearing, Joonmyeon can commiserate, so he laughs too, clapping his hands and showing his teeth.
Jongdae plays waiter, while Minseok and Kris are a perfectly oiled Panini maker duo. There is music and tons of food and at some point Joonmyeon finds himself with a lapful of Jongdae.
It turns dark all of a sudden. Yixing pulls out his guitar and Joonmyeon is pleasantly surprised to find Jongdae is not only hot, not only kind, not only amazingly funny, but has also the voice of a devilish angel.
They have a repertoire, and Joonmyeon gets to hear it and feel it against his body as Jongdae seems to be well bent in nestling against his chest. A few times he joins in with the two music lessons his mom managed to cajole him into, much to Jongdae’s delight. Chanyeol, who has been restless since the guitar was brought out manages to get his hands on it around the fourth song, strumming radio jams for Kyungsoo to sing to.
All the while Joonmyeon keeps a secure hand on the dip of Jongdae’s waist dripping kisses on the warm skin of Jongdae’s arm when he thinks no one is looking. He is not really ashamed as much as he is afraid of his friends seeing just how deep he is into this thing only after a week.
Jongdae is warm and hard-edged and he hits as good as he gets and Joonmyeon is having fun and doesn’t even need to think when he reaches for Jongdae’s hand and feels his fingers being squeezed, reassuringly, because it’s just holding hands, it’s just kissing, it’s just Jongdae.
Apparently, though, he needn’t worry, everyone already noticed.
“It’s cute,” says Baekhyun, perched on the counter of Lu Han’s kitchen. They should be getting ice, but Baekhyun feels like talking about feelings and feels like doing it now.
“It’s also our last day here,” adds Kyungsoo.
They have their last kiss while the sun comes up, their fingers interlaced while their tongues dance in each other’s mouth. It’s their last day and it sure feels like it.
(-)
extra time.
Joonmyeon sits nervously on the bench by the platform. He tried playing with his phone, but proved to be more stressing than relaxing, walking made anxious about missing the incoming trains and listening to music made him anxious about missing announcements on the speakers. Jongdae’s train will be here any minute now.
They have been keeping in touch, mostly calls since Jongdae is not really fond of messaging, and skype, but nothing prepared him for when Jongdae announced he was moving closer to the city for college. Forty minutes by bus from Joonmyeon's tiny dorm room. He could even get there walking if he felt like it!! They could study together, get dinner, coffee, go to the movies and… and maybe pick up where they left off.
“So, where is my welcome party?” Joonmyeon jumps to his feet. Jongdae is barely three steps away from him, hands on his hips and two suitcases at his sides. His hair has grown a little, and falls on his eyes as he tilts his head, pouting excessively.
“I guess you’ll have to do,” he sighs, when Joonmyeon stays silent, and shrugs off his backpack. “At least I should get a hug after such a long trip.”
Joonmyeon snorts, opening his arms as wide as they go. Jongdae literally trips into him hitting his nose against Joonmyeon’s collarbone and gripping the back of Joonmyeon’s sweater for dear life. They adjust, with Joonmyeon’s arms coming around Jongdae’s shoulders, and he can only sigh contentedly when he feels the ghost of Jongdae’s lips on his neck.
They pile up in Baekhyun’s car, with Chanyeol in charge of the music and Zitao in charge of making Jongdae as uncomfortably comfortable as he can in the ten minutes it takes them from the station to get to their shared apartment. Joonmyeon has a silly smile on, one he does not often use because they say it makes him look like an old man herding his nephews to their first day of daycare, but he can’t help it now so he won’t. Jongdae is picking at Joonmyeon’s fingers, tapping the knuckles as if playing a piano, Joonmyeon is just waiting for the right moment to grab Jongdae’s hand and hold it properly like he has been wanting to do since what seems like forever.
Baekhyun grins, looking at him in the review mirror. When Joonmyeon catches his eyes, Baekhyun winks and says:
“You Didn’t See That Coming, right?”
1. I was part of a /very failing volleyball team for almost a decade.
2. Once we went to a 4 on 4 charity tournament on the beach and we called our team 'Blues Sisters' because we were all wearing sunglasses. We were lame like that.
3. kudos to anyone who guessed the acronym.
From: ANONYMOUS until May 22, 2015
Title: YDSTC
Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Focus: Suho/Chen, slightly implied Suho/Sehun
Length: 4,900 words
Summary: Joonmyeon is the Perfect Team Captain of the volleyball team, but sometimes even Perfect Team Captains forget sunscreen.
Warning/s: hinted underage consensual sex
Notes: Dear recipient, this prompt called me like a siren towards the inevitable shipwreck. No ships were wrecked in this fic though. I hope you like this, though I strayed a little from your original prompt.
I twinkered a little with their ages, so assume ChanBaekSooHo and Chen are same age.
thanks a. and p. for pushing me, dressed as an anime character, alone, on the scariest ride ever. It really didn't help my self-confidence, but thank you for being the jerk friends I sometimes need.
1st set.
“Please explain to me again why we let Baekhyun go sign us up this year?” Kyungsoo complains as he stretches his arms over his head, bending from side to side.
Joonmyeon sighs, grabbing the tip of his left shoe. Thinking about it now, when they are wearing orange t-shirts with ‘YDSTC_1’ written in Comic Sans across their chests, it was really a bad idea. The Comic Sans is really excessive, and the blue letters against the orange fabric make for a really ugly combination, but they do stand out against the sea of simple blues, blacks and pastels of the other teams and that was probably Baekhyun’s only goal.
Joonmyeon switches to the tip his right shoe just when Kyungsoo folds himself in half pushing his open palms to the ground. It is always a little surprising how easy it is for Kyungsoo to fold and bend at the most awkward angles, making it hard not to stare at the gentle planes of his body. Yet, they have been friends for so long Joonmyeon has come to realize the kind of warmness he feels when he allows himself to look, is mere appreciation or all that is good and nice in life, like a nice butt.
He changes from his right to his left looking at this year’s competition. There are a few new faces around the courts set up on a lesser frequented side of the beach, and he can see Chanyeol already mingling with some of them, meanwhile Baekhyun and their water bottles are nowhere to be seen.
Usually there is at least six of them, split into three teams that always fight for a prize of their own, ice-cream, club chores, homework, but this year it different for a lot of reasons.
The first time, though, it was just Joonmyeon and Kyungsoo, who met by chance during a family vacation, and who thought why not when a girl in a hot pink summer dress had given them a flier with ‘Beach Volley Summer!’ written in block letters at the top.
Not used to play on the sand, they brought home a meager seventh place (out of ten) and a pale blue bow. Back to school the news had spread through the team, but how it turned from ‘casual meeting on the beach’ to them piling up in Joonmyeon’s battered car with two bottles of sun screen each and an endless supply of mixtapes to feed the stereo, Joonmyeon is still unsure. He is really not complaining, though.
Summer is a long reliving breath for Joonmyeon, who finally manages to let himself fall into that blurry line that separates Perfect Team Capitan Joonmyeon, who never lets a ball fall in his court, who has a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on always ready for anyone in need, and Kim Joonmyeon the beyond Messy teenager who still finds hasn’t met that side of himself that finds matching socks a necessity. Here he can be both since treating everyone out for dinner after a long day spent on the beach is payment enough for not picking up his damp bathrobe after a shower when they are back in their rooms.
“Hi,” a voice suddenly startles him from his reverie. He squints, when upon raising his eyes he is met with the strong rays of the sun, which surround the guy’s head like a very disturbing halo. “Baekhyun told me to bring you these,” he says showing two bottles of ice cold water.
Kyungsoo snorts and takes one with a murmured thank you, while Joonmyeon is a little slower and needs the guy to shove the bottle in his face to remember how to use his hands.
“Thanks,” he says, and then “I’m Joonmyeon.”
“I know,” the guy says with his smiling lips. “Baekhyun told me. I’m Jongdae.”
“Right,” Joonmyeon muses to himself, feeling the heavy weight of Kyungsoo’s unimpressed stare on his shoulders.
Jongdae is wearing a pale pink shirt with ‘Kim Jong Bros’ written in heavy black across his chest, sign that he is most likely taking part in the tournament. Jongdae must have spent a long time on the beach because his hair looks dry and there is a healthy tan to his skin that Joonmyeon lets himself be bitter about for just a second before his eyes rise to Jongdae’s face and he is bitter for a whole another reason.
“Is this your first year?” Jongdae crosses his arms over his chest and stands on Joonmyeon’s right with no intention of leaving.
“No, it’s… I think it’s our fourth. You?”
“First, I usually just come to watch.” He grins giving Joonmyeon a once over. “I don’t remember anyone quite so colorful last year.” There is mirth in Jongdae’s eyes, the kind that reminds him of Baekhyun, but far more dangerous. Joonmyeon takes another gulp of water.
Last year they wore inconspicuously blue shirts. Their teams were called ‘Ducklings (_1_2_3)’, they got second and third and sixth place. Kyungsoo buried Chanyeol in the sand for being ‘the tallest wasted space to ever play volleyball’ and Chanyeol let him, if only because ‘being buried in sand’ was in his summer bucket list. Duckling_1 had then threated everyone to a fancy dinner of fried chicken.
“It’s nice, though. Orange kind of suits you.”
It doesn’t, but Joonmyeon smiles and says thank you.
The sand is hot, but comfortably so when Joonmyeon and Kyungsoo take their stances for the first game of the day. Joonmyeon’s eyes are focused on the ball about to come his way, but his mind flies back at Jongdae’s embarrassed laughter when asked about his beach volley skills.
“None whatsoever,” he answered candidly, and laughed at himself with such resignation that Joonmyeon had to laugh too, if only to commiserate. There are many things Joonmyeon is resigning himself about. Like keep his head in the game if he didn’t want to end up buried in the sand on the shore by a very angry Kyungsoo, while he’d much rather see how those nonexistent skill of Jongdae’s translate in a game. Or maybe just see Jongdae sweat on a volleyball court. Yes, that.
Their match is quick, much quicker than Joonmyeon expected. They win, of course, because Kyungsoo is a strategist and also intimidating and Joonmyeon is the Captain of his own emotions and can stay focused on the game for as long as it takes them to asphalt the opponent team. Kyungsoo reaches for his backpack and gulps down what is left of his water before giving Joonmyeon a once over.
“You should put on some more sun screen,” he says in the same tone Joonmyeon’s father used when he told him that he really couldn’t fly, even with the cape. ‘Your tan is never going to happen’ is what Kyungsoo is really saying. “Then go find that guy from this morning and ask him out, I’m not going to allow any more slack than I already have.”
Joonmyeon gapes at his Vice Captain and straightens his obnoxious orange shirt. Though this is why Kyungsoo is his second in command, Joonmyeon is not used to have Kyungsoo’s whipping directed at himself.
“I should?” he asks instead.
“Yes, your nose is turning red.” Kyungsoo answers as they make their way towards the shade of the trees.
“No, I meant asking Jongdae out.”
“He flirted with you while you were wearing this,” he says, making a face as he eyes his own obnoxious orange shirt. “I think he is a keeper. Our next match is in fifteen minutes. Go. Shoo.”
Only partly reassured by Kyungsoo’s words, Joonmyeon grabs his Beach Man Bag and sets off to find Jongdae. On the way he checks his phone and finds three picture-texts from Zitao, who is also on a beach, somewhere fancier though, with his family and wrote the name of their team on the sand.
>>the sea ate it hyung… we’re going to win this year too!
He sends a thumbs up, and some more emojis for good measure. He toes off his shoes and ties them to the strap of his Beach Man Bag, before walking near the shore, letting the water lick at his feet. It’s chilly, tickles as it caresses his skin, Tao would probably take a picture. He fishes out his phone, hides his toes under the wet sand and keeps his camera ready for the next wave.
While he glares at the screen, as he bends a little backwards to get the perfect angle, he doesn’t really pay attention to his surroundings, so when Jongdae approaches him Joonmyeon doesn’t register it until Jongdae greets him with a loud and cheerful. “Hey!”
Caught off guard, Joonmyeon can only watch in horror as his phone spirals out of his hands onto the sand, just as the next wave is coming. It’s Jongdae who manages to get it before the worst, but all Joonmyeon sees is a blur of pink and then his precious phone is back in his hands.
He lets out a startled laugh, as he meets Jongdae’s eyes.
“Sorry,” Jongdae says, smiling sheepishly.
“No, I was… distracted.” He smiles.
Jongdae pushes his fuzzy hair away from his forehead, smiling back.
(Joonmyeon 0 - Jongdae 1)
time out.
When he gets to the cafeteria, Joonmyeon has probably enough time to get just one slice of pizza and probably gulp down one sip of water to avoid chocking. It is sad that he is also not hungry and, despite feeling his mouth as dry as Baekhyun’s humor, even water seems hard to swallow at the moment. At such times, though, having a plan is all Joonmyeon can cling on and his plan is to get a slice of pizza, eat it, gulp down some water and get to his next class before getting a note for being late.
His plan works until he feels a hand between his shoulder blades just while he is toying with the label of his water bottle, as he waits to get to the register.
“Hyung,” it is not so much a whine as it is a plea and Joonmyeon has learned every little nuance of if both on court and outside. “We saved you a seat, where have you been?”
Sehun frowns, but it usually does not mean concern, just a general dislike for some things in life that catch him off guard, and Joonmyeon being late for lunch break seems to fall into that category today. “Thank you,” Joonmyeon smiles, patting Sehun’s free arm. “I’ll be right over.”
Joonmyeon sits between Chanyeol and Tao, because Chanyeol talks enough for Joonmyeon’s silence to go unnoticed and Zitao is most likely to drape himself all over Joonmyeon’s side and human contact is exactly what Joonmyeon needs right now. Logically, Joonmyeon knows he has just done the right thing, that the ‘tears of today are the smiles of tomorrow’ but he still can’t help but feel a little guilty and that guilt is like dirt on his soul.
Zitao nudges his side and grins when Joonmyeon nudges back, before throwing an arm around his senior’s shoulders, squeezing. The pizza is not that good, but he is stomach is untying enough for him to get down that much.
“So,” Kyungsoo is steering them both towards their next class when he decides to breach the subject. “Anything you feel like sharing?”
“We are going to need a new manager,” Joonmyeon sighs. The cute second year was their third since Joonmyeon had taken over the captain position and the two before her had left, albeit in a quieter way, for similar reasons.
Kyungsoo does not look particularly surprised, the first two times already got rid of all that. It is sad to think that they have a system now.
“Oh well, I’m sure Fish would be happy to know his old home has served such a high purpose,” he grins in Joonmyeon’s direction.
“Let’s put the snack card in after Sehun has drawn, ok? I don’t want any casualties so close to the match.” Joonmyeon says with a shiver.
Kyungsoo grimaces. They are probably both thinking about the sandwich debacle of their second fishbowl ruffle. Neither ready to reminisce about it yet, they separate at the end of the hallway in complete silence.
By the time he pulls on his shorts and shrugs on a ratty t-shirt, Joonmyeon has piled up quite a lot of things he needs to get out of his system. On the field he can figuratively slap as hard as his body will allow - not in a particular order - the neighbor kid who thought throwing mud on Joonmyeon’s clean uniform that hung outside to dry was the funniest thing ever, the stupid class’ potted plant that had decided to die in his care during the week-end and lastly his excuse of a love life that was nothing like how his sister’s magazine or any given romantic comedy described. Even if he began playing volleyball because grass stains never appealed to him even as a kid, volleyball has become a very effective stress reliever, one he has come to turn to a little too often as of lately.
“Is something bothering you today?” Hakyeon, their setter, asks after Joonmyeon has tried to dig a hole in their gym floor with a ball.
“We need Kyungsoo’s fishbowl again.” is Joonmyeon’s explanation as he slides under the net to position himself behind the three meters line.
No ball shalt pass today.
2nd set.
“You got a date,” Baekhyun says, eyeing Joonmyeon skeptically. “On the first day,” he looks at Kyungsoo who shrugs, then back at Joonmyeon, bent over his suitcase. Did he turn temporarily colorblind while packing? Why couldn’t he at least put in one nice outfit?
“You proclaimed celibate, that’s why.” Kyungsoo supplies. That he did, but it was just after the celebratory team party. He also said he’d bleach his hair blonde that night, so why did he only follow on the celibate? “Though I don’t know if it’s a step forward from blushing twinky sex.”
Baekhyun whelps, Joonmyeon lets out a sound of discomfort, and Chanyeol, bless his soul, chooses that moment to come out of the bathroom. He cradles the white fluffy hotel provided bathrobe and sighs whistfully. “I am going to marry this bathrobe.”
“Well, at least you are not putting yourself up for inevitable rejection,” Baekhyun snorts from the bed. Chanyeol pounces him in retaliation.
“I could totally charm the pants off anyone,” Chanyeol smirks, making himself comfortable across Baekhyun’s back.
“Really now?” Baekhyun is smiling creepily as he bends his neck awkwardly to look at Chanyeol.
“You are so on.”
They stare at each other for a long moment until Kyungsoo accidentally drops the guide book he had been reading catching everyone’s attention, even Joonmyeon’s, and goes to open the window because they clearly need the fresh air.
“You can borrow something of mine,” he says to Joonmyeon. “Don’t stain it, don’t stretch it, if any bodily fluid comes in contact with it, please burn it.”
After deciding that not getting sick outweighed showing off his nice toned arms, Joonmyeon chooses a light cotton shirt, slightly holey, but the fashionable kind of holey that also highlights his collarbones, which are also great, according to Chanyeol who gives him two thumbs up out of two, against Baekhyun’s half.
“If you start thinking about how to steal Christmas, it’s the sweater, take it off immediately before it sucks away all your feelings,” Baekhyun warns.
While he slips out of their room, Joonmyeon has just time to witness Kyungsoo’s feline reflexes as he jumps Baekhyun on the bed, ready to smother him with Chanyeol’s bathrobe.
Jongdae is already waiting outside, blinding smile in place as he waves cutely when he spots Joonmyen jogging down the stairs. It takes a moment to register, but when it does it’s hard to look anywhere but the colorful and painfully ugly Hawaiian button down Jongdae is wearing. Luckily Jongdae merely snorts at Joonmyeon’s baffled face.
“Hey, I was able to look past the arguable orange, I expect the same treatment,” he isn’t smiling, but the amusement is clear in his eyes.
“Is this a preliminary test?” he asks, scowling.
Joonmyeon scratches his chin, giving Jongdae a once over, “The flowers… they suit you, they go with the whole beach-y flowerboy thing you have going on.”
“Pass,” Jongdae says, easily draping an arm around Joonmyeon’s shoulders.
As they make their way up the hill to the bristling town center, Jongdae pulls him in an easy banter about what is suitable first date food, while Joonmyeon vetoes anything that ‘dribbles and stains permanently’, Jongdae laughs and says he has exactly what they need.
They settle for street food, ‘Greasy but easy’, picking something from the stands Jongdae pointed out as the best in town.
“So, why did you sign up for the tournament?” Joonmyeon asks. They are sitting on a bench just outside the chaos of the main street, with their dinner to separate them.
“Well, my little cousin is antsy because I’ll be going to college in the fall and he wanted to make special memories this summer,” Jongdae looks bashful as he stabs his last takoyaki. “His pout is really something, let me tell you.”
Joonmyeon pats his back, daring to let his hand trail down Jongdae’s spine in a soothing motion. Jongdae smiles minutely, the corners of his lips curving prettily, he looks at Joonmyeon with something soft in his eyes.
“Would it be too bold of me to ask you to take a walk on the beach?” he asks.
“Only if it were to be too bold of me to say yes,” Joonmyeon winches at how corny that sounded. He should have just said something cool like ‘After you’ or something quick like ‘Let’s’. Jongdae laughs though, it’s small and probably out of pity, but there is no derision and Joonmyeon has been told he can be quite endearing. Jongdae could be into endearing.
“Let’s go then,” Jongdae grins.
They throw out the take out the greasy take out cartons and they both take off their shoes when they reach the beach. Jongdae being a local means Joonmyeon has little to worry about directions, but also that if Jongdae turned out to be a serial killer it could take days for anyone to find him. He follows anyway, trailing after Jongdae until he is tugged forward by the hand, standing side by side with a smugly smiling Jongdae. The sand is still hot and Joonmyeon buries the tip of his feet at every step, it’s a nice feeling and Jongdae’s hands are as warm as the sand, fitting between Joonmyeon’s fingers effortlessly, like sand.
They walk leisurely, dragging their feet until there is no more sand and a mountain of smooth rocks stands in their way. Jongdae tells him about that time Jongin wanted to climb up to the top, but ended up falling on his face as they raced here and cried when sand got in his mouth and Lu Han tried to wash his mouth with seawater only to make him cry harder because it was salty.
It’s dark already, the town’s lights are like fireflies and Joonmyeon drops himself on the sand, back leaning against the smooth rock, Jongdae at his left.
“Hey,” Joonmyeon says nudging Jongdae’s foot with his.
Jongdae nudges back. “What?”
Jongdae is smiling when Joonmyeon leans in so he mostly kisses his teeth, but they get better, boy do they get better. There is the sound of the see and the moon and Jongdae’s warm skin and it’s just like his sister magazine said, with the butterflies flapping away inside his ribcage, tickling his heart and making his stomach churn…
“Mhn… yes… ” a distinctly female voice moans.
They both freeze. Jongdae has his hands buried in Joonmyeon’s hair and Joonmyeon is halfway through dragging Jongdae on his lap, they stare at each other in total silence.
“Oh my god honey… ” male this time, accompanied by a gurgling sound neither of them care to identify.
Jongdae’s eyes go huge and they both need to put a hand over their mouth to stop themselves from burst right out laughing. As more deities get mentioned and the air gets steamier, Joonmyeon grabs Jongdae’s hand and they run.
(Joonmyeon 1 - Jongdae 1)
time out.
The crowd cheers loudly, but no player is paying attention. In front of him, Kyungsoo, with his tape wrapped fingers signals for middle court. They got this, they can do this. Final of the season and they are not here to lose The table score glows, the red 29 - 30 mocks him. The referee blows her whistle and the sound of Chanyeol’s hand hitting the ball is deafening in Joonmyeon’s ears. One, the other team’s Libero’s shoes shriek as he throws himself on the floor to get the ball, not an easy one, sending it towards the waiting hands of their setter. Two, three, and their middle blocker sends a fast ball right behind Kyungsoo.
Their team is like a blob, though, they move together and leave no holes for their opponents to exploit. It wasn’t easy to get there, with petty fights and squabbles blowing up at every practice and after every game, but Joonmyeon brought them there, with cold showers and a lot of collective punishment laps around the track field.
Sehun manages to catch the opposite hitter off guard with a very mean, but very well placed, dink right behind the middle blocker, and the referee whistles the end of the game.
There is a subdued round of cheers as they get in line to congratulate the other team on a good match, net separating them, but as soon as the last hands have been shaken, the last good jobs have been uttered, Joonmyeon barely has the time to take a breath and he is swept off his feet by a very excited Zitao.
“We won!” someone is shouting and all he can do is laugh because they did! They won!!!
Joonmyeon whoops, arms in the air as Zitao twirls him around like a puppet before depositing him, not so graciously, on the ground again. He sways a little, still laughing, when an arm loops around his neck.
“Hyung,” Sehun’s smile is blinding, with his eyes so small and the sweaty bangs that hide his perfectly curved eyebrows. The pit of Joonmyeon’s stomach falls, heavy with everything he has put off till now, piled up in a corner, under the rug that more than once Sehun dragged away from under his feet with just a smile. He squeezes back, sneaking an arm around Sehun’s torso, because he will never not want to give back all the affection Sehun seems always so prone to give him, to give everyone.
3rd set.
The party is graciously hosted by Jongdae’s friend, Lu Han, son of the owners of the bazar/bike rental that faces the beach. The house is not big, but has a garden big enough to fit Everyone, with Everyone being a grand total of five people. Jongin, the whiny cousin, Lu Han the host, Yixing, surf instructor, Kris, their ride and Minseok, resident chef.
Jongdae introduces the four newcomers while glued to Joonmyeon’s side. It’s their last day, the trophy from the tournament is already in his suitcase, along with seashells, a little bottle of white sand, a million pictures and a thousand questions.
There is an inflatable pool full of water and the one that was introduced as their host, Lu Han, is sitting on a foldable chair with his feet in the water. His oversized sunglasses hide most of his face, but his grin, while Joonmyeon takes a sit in the empty foldable chair beside him, is enough to make him borderline uncomfortable.
“I’m Lu Han,” the guy says, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, Joonmyeon.”
Joonmyeon smiles, taking Lu Han’s hand, only to find himself yanked forward and uncomfortably close to Lu Han’s face. Pulling up the sunglasses Lu Han reveals two big scrutinizing eyes that seem to be well bent on boring a hole into Joonmyeon’s soul. “You are cute.”
Joonmyeon gapes, mouth round like an ‘o’ and eyes blinking stupidly and Lu Han’s smile turns into a full blown laugh. He is so ugly when he laughs it’s endearing, Joonmyeon can commiserate, so he laughs too, clapping his hands and showing his teeth.
Jongdae plays waiter, while Minseok and Kris are a perfectly oiled Panini maker duo. There is music and tons of food and at some point Joonmyeon finds himself with a lapful of Jongdae.
It turns dark all of a sudden. Yixing pulls out his guitar and Joonmyeon is pleasantly surprised to find Jongdae is not only hot, not only kind, not only amazingly funny, but has also the voice of a devilish angel.
They have a repertoire, and Joonmyeon gets to hear it and feel it against his body as Jongdae seems to be well bent in nestling against his chest. A few times he joins in with the two music lessons his mom managed to cajole him into, much to Jongdae’s delight. Chanyeol, who has been restless since the guitar was brought out manages to get his hands on it around the fourth song, strumming radio jams for Kyungsoo to sing to.
All the while Joonmyeon keeps a secure hand on the dip of Jongdae’s waist dripping kisses on the warm skin of Jongdae’s arm when he thinks no one is looking. He is not really ashamed as much as he is afraid of his friends seeing just how deep he is into this thing only after a week.
Jongdae is warm and hard-edged and he hits as good as he gets and Joonmyeon is having fun and doesn’t even need to think when he reaches for Jongdae’s hand and feels his fingers being squeezed, reassuringly, because it’s just holding hands, it’s just kissing, it’s just Jongdae.
Apparently, though, he needn’t worry, everyone already noticed.
“It’s cute,” says Baekhyun, perched on the counter of Lu Han’s kitchen. They should be getting ice, but Baekhyun feels like talking about feelings and feels like doing it now.
“It’s also our last day here,” adds Kyungsoo.
They have their last kiss while the sun comes up, their fingers interlaced while their tongues dance in each other’s mouth. It’s their last day and it sure feels like it.
(-)
extra time.
Joonmyeon sits nervously on the bench by the platform. He tried playing with his phone, but proved to be more stressing than relaxing, walking made anxious about missing the incoming trains and listening to music made him anxious about missing announcements on the speakers. Jongdae’s train will be here any minute now.
They have been keeping in touch, mostly calls since Jongdae is not really fond of messaging, and skype, but nothing prepared him for when Jongdae announced he was moving closer to the city for college. Forty minutes by bus from Joonmyeon's tiny dorm room. He could even get there walking if he felt like it!! They could study together, get dinner, coffee, go to the movies and… and maybe pick up where they left off.
“So, where is my welcome party?” Joonmyeon jumps to his feet. Jongdae is barely three steps away from him, hands on his hips and two suitcases at his sides. His hair has grown a little, and falls on his eyes as he tilts his head, pouting excessively.
“I guess you’ll have to do,” he sighs, when Joonmyeon stays silent, and shrugs off his backpack. “At least I should get a hug after such a long trip.”
Joonmyeon snorts, opening his arms as wide as they go. Jongdae literally trips into him hitting his nose against Joonmyeon’s collarbone and gripping the back of Joonmyeon’s sweater for dear life. They adjust, with Joonmyeon’s arms coming around Jongdae’s shoulders, and he can only sigh contentedly when he feels the ghost of Jongdae’s lips on his neck.
They pile up in Baekhyun’s car, with Chanyeol in charge of the music and Zitao in charge of making Jongdae as uncomfortably comfortable as he can in the ten minutes it takes them from the station to get to their shared apartment. Joonmyeon has a silly smile on, one he does not often use because they say it makes him look like an old man herding his nephews to their first day of daycare, but he can’t help it now so he won’t. Jongdae is picking at Joonmyeon’s fingers, tapping the knuckles as if playing a piano, Joonmyeon is just waiting for the right moment to grab Jongdae’s hand and hold it properly like he has been wanting to do since what seems like forever.
Baekhyun grins, looking at him in the review mirror. When Joonmyeon catches his eyes, Baekhyun winks and says:
“You Didn’t See That Coming, right?”
1. I was part of a /very failing volleyball team for almost a decade.
2. Once we went to a 4 on 4 charity tournament on the beach and we called our team 'Blues Sisters' because we were all wearing sunglasses. We were lame like that.
3. kudos to anyone who guessed the acronym.