Spiked! Part 2
Title: Spiked! The VolleyVerse Part 2
Author:
Pairings/Characters: J-squared, Chris/Steve, Usual Suspects OFCs, OMCs.
Rating: Up to NC17 in places
Disclaimer: If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream,. In other words: complete and utter fiction. I own nothing but my twisted and sordid little brain. I even had to borrow my disclaimer.
Warning: Angst, drama, character death. Flagrant disregard of USVA reality.
Summary: When Jensen meets Mac's new volleyball coach, he falls head over heels in lust. Can they overcome misunderstanding and tragedy and find their way to each other?
Jensen had always been pretty sure that Hell was full of screaming teenaged girls. He had not been aware, however, that Hell had come to Dallas.
He stood just inside the door of the sports complex, watching the flying balls (and girls) and wincing at the screams and grunts. It was almost pornographic. Just what kind of sport was Mac playing?
"Jensen! There you are!" his mother yelled, jogging across the lobby. "Mac will be so happy you made it." She threw her arms around Jensen and hugged him tight.
"This place is insane," he said, having to lean close just to be heard.
"You don't know the half of it," Donna Ackles said, with a slight grimace. "Come on, we're on court eight, against the wall."
Jensen followed her across the lobby, to the far wall of the complex. His own experience with playing sports had been limited to the playground and one traumatic season of Little League. His only sports related activities in high school had to do with a well-endowed basketball player and a closeted linebacker with a daddy complex. And as bizarre as those experiences had been, nothing that could have prepared him for his current circumstances.
"The girls have to ref the first game, but they'll play next," Donna explained. She led him down a long row of courts, with nothing but a flimsy net and two feet separating the spectators from the game.
A ball hit the net next to Jensen's head, and he jerked back. "What the fuck?"
"Jensen!" his mother scolded. "Watch the language. These are nice girls."
Nice girls had been the bane of his relationship with his parents. They wanted him to meet nice girls. Date nice girls. Pick one of the nice girls out and get married. And then give them a parade of nice grandbabies.
Jensen had other ideas. While a lot of guys his age would be drooling over the older girls on the courts, he barely spared a glance. There was one of the coaches that was pretty hot, but he didn't think his mother would appreciate him drooling over six-foot-a lot of hot guy when he was supposed to be cheering for his sister.
Jensen's dad had a spot staked out with three lawn chairs. Apparently the insane dues you paid for your kid to participate didn't cover cushy seating. It didn’t look like it guaranteed seating at all. Aside from two rows of metal bleachers, already mostly full, there were groups of girls in uniforms spread over most of the non-court surface, and then groups of parents, wearing team shirts huddled together and watching the games. Jensen noticed that both of his parents were wearing matching red t-shirts, with a big cross on the front.
"She's playing on a church team?" Jensen asked. "You had to pay three thousand dollars for her to play on a church team?"
"Shush," Donna said, her hand twitching like she really wanted to smack him upside the head. "It's a regular team. But they emphasize spirituality as well as volleyball. Your father thought that was important."
Because Jesus and volleyball went hand in hand. Of course. It all made perfect sense. He and the Apostles spent their down time playing sand volleyball after a long day of raising the dead and multiplying fishes and loaves. I mean, how hard was spiking the ball after walking on water?
Mac stood at the corner of the court, holding a flag. When a ball obviously landed outside of the line, she threw her hands up signaling a side-out. Other than that, she looked incredibly bored. Until she saw Jensen.
Her face lit up and she blew him a kiss. He grinned back and held up the gift bag. Her smile was all he needed to know he was forgiven.
He settled down in a chair and watched the two teams playing. He'd always thought of volleyball players as being tall, but there were girls on the court that were at least six inches shorter than his sister, and she wasn't an Amazon by any means. He never would have thought that such tiny girls could smack the ball with so much force, but as another errant volleyball hit the net, he allowed that he might have been wrong.
Soon enough, the team in the green jerseys finished off the white jerseys, and one group of parents cheered while the others tried not to let their disappointment show on their faces. The two teams cleared off of the court, and Mac's team started warming up.
"Why does that chick have a different colored jersey?" Jensen asked his mother. A tiny girl with a sequined headband wore a black jersey instead of the team pink.
"She's the libero," Donna explained.
"The who?"
"The libero. She's a defensive player. Never plays the net and never serves. This one's name is Dina."
"I've watched volleyball on TV, and I've never seen one of these liberos before," Jensen said.
"You were probably watching men's beach volleyball," Alan said, not taking his eyes off of his baby girl. "Do they even wear jerseys?"
Okay, his dad had a point.
"What position does Mac play?" Jensen asked, tactfully ignoring his father.
"Middle blocker," Donna explained. "She's their height at the net."
"She's their height?"
"Compared to the rest of them, yes," Donna chuckled.
The teams finished warming up, and took their places on either side of the net. Mac stood at the net, her arms up. A short, red-haired girl with braids had the ball, and prepared to serve. The ref whistled, and the game began.
One hour, two games won, and one full memory card in Jensen's camera later, Mac left the court and tackled her older brother.
"Jen! You made it. You do love me!" she giggled. "What did you bring me?"
"If you'll stop acting like a boa constrictor, I'll give it to you," Jensen said, extricating himself from five foot and seven inches of sweaty teenager. He reached down and grabbed the pink gift bag and handed it to Mac.
"How cute!" she gushed, pulling out the white bear. "He's so soft!" She was equally delighted by the ten pounds of candy in the bag. With one more hug, she left him and took her loot to share with her teammates.
The group of girls all turned and looked at him, delight clearly evident. As the next game progressed, they kept inching closer and closer until Jensen had a circle of fourteen-year-old girls at his feet, making eyes at him. Mac obviously thought it was in turns hilarious and gross. When he ignored them to chat with his parents, they settled back down to gossip.
"Bonny is so lucky to have such a hot coach," one of the girls said with an envious sigh.
"I think Mac's brother is even hotter," said a second girl.
Jensen nearly choked. Oh God, he thought, they're Mac's age. Ewwwww.
"Besides, I heard he's gay," a third girl said.
Jensen's ears perked up and his stomach fluttered, and not in a good way.
"Coach P.?"
"Yep."
"No way!"
"Gross!"
"My mother said he's got his court lined up in hell," the girl said. "And that's why he isn't coaching for the Saints this year. They didn't want a pervert teaching their daughters."
Jensen had gotten progressively tenser as the conversation went along. It got even worse when he heard Mac pipe up.
"Let me get this straight. They didn't want a gay guy around their daughters? Wouldn't that be, like, the safest place for them to be?" Mac asked. "I mean, it's not like he'd ever have any interest in them. And they'd all learn how not to dress like trashy cows."
God bless Mac for having sense, even if Jensen was sure it wouldn't be appreciated by her teammates.
"So? He's still sick," the loud-mouthed girl said. "I wouldn't want him around my kids."
Jensen decided to intervene before things got out of hand. "Hey, Mac. Can a big brother buy you a soda or something?"
Mac looked him dead in the eye, and he knew she knew what he was trying to do. Still, she backed down.
"You can buy me a soda and nachos," she said, magnanimously. "Because I'm just that nice."
"I'm a lucky guy to have a baby sis like you," Jensen said. And he meant every word.
"Don't you forget it."
The conversation was almost forgotten until they were packing up to leave. The girls were in a rotten mood after having dropped their last game, and were looking to take it out on anyone around. They passed by the court where Jensen had seen the hot coach earlier. He was still there, talking to a group of girls in maroon uniforms, obviously tying to cheer them up.
The loud-mouthed girl shot him a look of pure venom. "Burn in hell, faggot," she snarled.
Everyone stopped. The coach and his team turned to look at them with their jaws on the floor. Mac's team looked torn between shushing their teammate and cheering her on. Jensen and his parents all stiffened.
Of all of them, unfortunately, Mac was the first to regain her voice.
"Shut the hell up, Stacey," Mac said, stomping over to stand in front of the girl.
"Why? You some sort of faggot lover?" the girl sneered, bowing up to Mac.
"At least I'm not an ignorant bigot," Mac said, not backing down an inch. Later, when he wasn't mortified by the whole scene, he'd probably hug her for that.
Their coach finally stepped in. "MacKenzie. Stacey. Stop it," she snapped. "Stacey, apologize to Coach Padalecki."
"No."
"Stacey Marie Simmons, you will do as your coach says and apologize to this person," a woman in a red 'Dallas Life' shirt said. Of course, she ruined the whole sentiment with the disgusted sneer on her face.
The two females faced off for about ten seconds, and then Stacey turned to the coach and said, "Sorry." She then turned and flounced out of the gym.
The rest of the team trailed out, leaving the Ackles standing by the court holding the flabbergasted Coach Padalecki and his team. One of his girls muttered something about kicking Stacey's ass, but for the most part they just stared in confusion.
"I'm so sorry about this," Donna said to the other team. "I assure you that we don't all feel that way."
"No problem," Coach Padalecki said, still looking a bit dazed.
Jensen grabbed Mac by the hand and led her out of the building. Her head was hanging and she looked absolutely miserable.
"Want to go grab dinner, kiddo?" Jensen asked. "We can ditch the parents. It'll just be the two of us."
"No thank you," Mac mumbled. "We have to be back here early in the morning for prayer service before our games." And didn't she sound enthused about that.
Jensen hated seeing his sister so sad. "Thank you, by the way. You're kind of almost my heroine."
That statement was rewarded with a tiny smile. "Coach P. was kinda hot, too, right?"
Jensen choked a little. Yeah, the guy was smoking hot, but he didn't feel comfortable discussing it with his baby sister.
"He seemed like an okay guy." A nice, noncommittal answer.
"Let's get out of here," Alan said, throwing an arm around each of his children. "Steaks are on me. And if you're very good, young lady, I'll even spring for dessert."
Part 3