(no subject)
Title: Spiked! The VolleyVerse Part 1
Author:
texankate
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 Ackles loved his baby sister. He did. Really. He'd stood behind her when she wanted to learn ballet at age seven. He'd applauded as she strutted around the house in her pink leotard and tutu. He'd sat through her watching 'The Nutcracker' on the VCR ten times, just so she could show him how amazing she was going to be. He'd even gone with his mother to the first two lessons, because Mac wanted her Jenny-Bean to watch her twirl.
Ballet class was to set a precedent that carried on through the next seven years. Mackenzie had been so excited in the lead-up. She'd even enjoyed the first class, with all of her little friends. But once it got a little tough, once the teacher told her she was doing something wrong, once it wasn't fun every moment of every day, Mac had tossed her ballet shoes aside and moved on to something else.
She moved on to a lot of something elses. There'd been the ice skates that she'd begged for after watching the winter Olympics, which he'd last seen at one of his mother's yard sales. There was the piano that did nothing but collect dust and provide another horizontal surface for his mother's Precious Moments collection. All things that Mac had assured them all was the one thing she was Meant To Do. And all of them tossed aside when something shiny and new came along.
So Jensen wasn't surprised when he stopped by one evening for dinner to find Mac outside hitting a volleyball against the side of the garage. She had a look of concentration on her face, with a hint of tongue poking out that kept her from looking too intense.
"Hey there, kiddo," Jensen said, reaching out to pluck the ball from the air. He sank down into a lawn chair.
"Dude, not cool," Mac grumbled, reaching out but failing to snatch it back. "I have to practice."
"You plan on being a volleyball star, now?" Jensen asked with a grin. He didn't even blink at the black look Mackenzie shot his way. He just spun the ball on his index finger like Joey Madison had taught him to do in high school. Right before he taught him about a different kind of ball handling.
"Don't start in on me, too," she snapped. "Mom and Dad have already been on me about wasting time and money on this."
Jensen felt a little bad. Not a lot, but a little. "Come on, Mac. I'm sure they're just…" He handed the ball back as a peace offering.
"Just worried that I won't stick with this either, right?" Mac said, dropping the ball. "But I like this. A lot. And I'm good at it, too." Her miserable frown made Jensen's heart hurt.
"To be fair, you've liked a lot of other stuff, too. What makes this different?" Jensen asked.
Mac threw herself down onto a garden bench. "Jen, I didn't just decide to pick this up. We'd been doing this at school since the beginning of the year, and I haven't gotten tired of it, yet. The coach even asked if I'd like to try out for the team."
"Good for you, kiddo," Jensen said, sitting down beside her. "When are tryouts?"
"They were a month ago," Mac said. She pulled her knees up and rested her forehead on them. "I've kind of been on the squad for a month."
"What?" Jensen yelped. "Why haven't you said anything? Why haven't Mom and Dad said anything?"
"They kind of didn't know," Mac mumbled, looking up. Her frown melted into a guilty grin. "They thought all of the extra time I'd been spending at school was for tutorials."
"You lied to them for a month, and you're surprised that they're pissed?" Jensen asked. "Jesus, you'd have had to forge their signatures on consent forms. Dammit, Mac!"
"I know, okay," Mac sighed. "But it's not like I was out drinking or doing drugs. I was playing volleyball, under the supervision of a responsible adult."
"A responsible adult who never asked to meet your parents? Doesn't sound very responsible to me. Besides, all that is trumped by the fact that you lied."
"Yeah, they keep reminding me of that, too."
"Why didn't you just get their permission to begin with?" Jensen asked. "You're right. It's a school sponsored activity, and they've always let you do stuff before. It's not like you'd be out roaming the streets."
"I couldn't bear that look in their eyes again," Mac said.
"What look?"
"The same one you all get every time I try something new. The one that says 'Let's see how long she lasts this time,' and 'I wonder how much time and money this crazy idea will cost me.' I know y'all think I'm a big flake, and that I never follow through. I just didn't want to hear it this time," she said, staring down at the ball.
He couldn't ever remember seeing her as miserable as she looked. "Was it worth it?" Jensen asked. Mac, for all of her flightiness, was a good kid and didn't give their parents a ton of trouble. It struck him that if she was willing to go this far to play, it might actually be something she could possibly maybe stick with.
The misery melted from her face. "Totally!" she said, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm pretty good, if I do say so myself."
"So do they want you to quit the team?" Jensen asked. He'd try to talk them out of it. He hadn't seen Mac light up like that in way too long.
"No. Dad said I'd made a commitment, and that making me quit wasn't fair to the rest of the team," Mac said. "They just are being grumpy about the whole club thing."
"What club thing?" Jensen asked.
"Club volleyball," Mac said, as if he were an idiot for asking.
"…"
"They're teams that aren't associated with a school. You can play in tournaments all over the country, if you're good enough," Mac explained. "It's how a lot of college players and pro players get discovered. But they do cost money."
"So, like farm league for volleyball?" Jensen asked. Mac just gave him a puzzled look. "How much money?"
Mac mumbled something unintelligible.
"Come again?"
"Three thousand. If I make national. Less if I make one of the local teams," Mac said. "But my coach says I'm good enough to make national."
His jaw actually dropped. "So, let me get this straight," Jensen began. "You lied to them. You've been playing a sport that could injure you with them none the wiser. Now you want to play that sport at a higher level, and want them to fork over serious cash to do it, and you're pissed at them for being a little hesitant?"
"When you say it like that-"
"What, when I say it like it actually is?" Jensen asked. "Because, let me tell you, in their position? You'd be locked in your room until college. If you could find a college team to take you, then maybe you could play again."
Mac's face crumpled. "They're really not going to let me do it, are they?" Tears started to run down her face.
Jensen watched her cry for just a few moments. "Well, they'd be perfectly within reason not to," he began. "But if you promise that this is something you want to really stick with, I'll see what I can do."
Mac's head popped up. "Really? Jen, you'd do that for me?" she squealed, tears either forgotten or trumped up to begin with.
"I must be insane, but yeah."
"Josh is so not my favorite brother anymore," Mac said.
"Wait, he was your favorite brother?" Jensen yelped.
"Yeah, but he told me to suck it up. You? You're my favorite from now on, I promise," Mac said, throwing her arms around Jensen.
The things he did for his baby sister. Sheesh.
The tinny sound of Gwen Stefani pulled Jensen out of his very good and very naughty dream. One minute he was tangled up with the tall guy from that freaky demon show on TV, and the next he's listening to Gwen and that fucker Akon hooting and hollering. It was the last fucking time he let Mac pick her own ringtone.
He wondered briefly if he immediately fell back asleep if he could return to the moment when Tall Boy bent him over that very sexy car, but sadly, he kind of doubted it. Instead, he stifled a groan and rolled towards the night stand, reaching out blindly for his phone. He managed to flip it open and bring it to his ear without once opening his eyes.
"What do you want, Mac?" he growled.
"Morning Jenny Bean," his little sister chirped. "Rise and shine."
"It's," he began, managing to open his eyes a few millimeters, "six o'clock in the morning, brat. Why in the hell would I want to rise, much less shine?"
"You forgot," Mac shrieked. "I've been talking about this for weeks. You are the worst brother ever! Josh would so be my favorite again if he hadn't forgotten too."
"Forgot what?" Jensen mumbled.
"You promised to come see me play," she said, in a small voice.
Jensen groaned. He had forgotten. He could see the pout that had to be forming on her face.
"Shit. Your tournament is this weekend."
He'd been able to talk his parents into letting Mac try out for a club. He'd expended a good amount of 'good son' capital by insisting that she really was committed to volleyball, and that she promised that her grades wouldn't dip and that she'd help out more around the house. Their parents had laughed at the last bit, but they seemed to take the rest of it to heart.
Their dad had, as always, thought the best way to start was with a metric ton of research. He read up on the different teams online, and even got names of players who'd been with different clubs to see what they had to say. Jensen stayed away from that part, content that he'd done his bit for Mac's budding volleyball career by convincing his parents to let her play.
In the end, she'd surprised them all by not only making a team, but by ending up on the top team in her age group at the club their dad had picked. A large dues check and a not-inconsequential outlay for gear and uniforms later, she was all set.
"My first tournament. I'm freaking the hell out, and I could use my big brother there," Mac said. The tone in her voice was just a touch overdone, and Jensen was pretty sure he was being played. Still…
"Where is it?" Sometimes it was easier to give in. When it came to the women in his family, it was always easier.
"Directions are sitting in your inbox," Mac said happily. "Don't forget to bring me a good luck present." And with that, she hung up.
Jensen dragged himself into the shower, and then into clothes. After a pot of coffee, he printed off the Google Map, grabbed his wallet, his keys, and his camera and headed out.
In his younger, dumber days, he would have assumed that Mac was joking about the present. But these days, he knew that she would crucify him for not showing up with something. And even if he did take a present, she'd be pissed that she had to remind him. It was things like these that made him glad to be gay. Men might be idiots and assholes, but women could be downright insane.
Unfortunately, none of the cute little shops and boutiques Mac and his mom preferred were open at such a god-forsaken hour of the morning. Nothing was open but Wal-Mart, so Mac was going to have to settle for a stuffed bear and candy. If she managed to stick with the game for more than one tournament, he'd see about getting better presents. Strangely, he was looking forward to the day that he'd have to spend the afternoon scouring the shops for the perfect gift.
But he wasn't holding his breath.
Chapter 2
Author:
texankate
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 Ackles loved his baby sister. He did. Really. He'd stood behind her when she wanted to learn ballet at age seven. He'd applauded as she strutted around the house in her pink leotard and tutu. He'd sat through her watching 'The Nutcracker' on the VCR ten times, just so she could show him how amazing she was going to be. He'd even gone with his mother to the first two lessons, because Mac wanted her Jenny-Bean to watch her twirl.
Ballet class was to set a precedent that carried on through the next seven years. Mackenzie had been so excited in the lead-up. She'd even enjoyed the first class, with all of her little friends. But once it got a little tough, once the teacher told her she was doing something wrong, once it wasn't fun every moment of every day, Mac had tossed her ballet shoes aside and moved on to something else.
She moved on to a lot of something elses. There'd been the ice skates that she'd begged for after watching the winter Olympics, which he'd last seen at one of his mother's yard sales. There was the piano that did nothing but collect dust and provide another horizontal surface for his mother's Precious Moments collection. All things that Mac had assured them all was the one thing she was Meant To Do. And all of them tossed aside when something shiny and new came along.
So Jensen wasn't surprised when he stopped by one evening for dinner to find Mac outside hitting a volleyball against the side of the garage. She had a look of concentration on her face, with a hint of tongue poking out that kept her from looking too intense.
"Hey there, kiddo," Jensen said, reaching out to pluck the ball from the air. He sank down into a lawn chair.
"Dude, not cool," Mac grumbled, reaching out but failing to snatch it back. "I have to practice."
"You plan on being a volleyball star, now?" Jensen asked with a grin. He didn't even blink at the black look Mackenzie shot his way. He just spun the ball on his index finger like Joey Madison had taught him to do in high school. Right before he taught him about a different kind of ball handling.
"Don't start in on me, too," she snapped. "Mom and Dad have already been on me about wasting time and money on this."
Jensen felt a little bad. Not a lot, but a little. "Come on, Mac. I'm sure they're just…" He handed the ball back as a peace offering.
"Just worried that I won't stick with this either, right?" Mac said, dropping the ball. "But I like this. A lot. And I'm good at it, too." Her miserable frown made Jensen's heart hurt.
"To be fair, you've liked a lot of other stuff, too. What makes this different?" Jensen asked.
Mac threw herself down onto a garden bench. "Jen, I didn't just decide to pick this up. We'd been doing this at school since the beginning of the year, and I haven't gotten tired of it, yet. The coach even asked if I'd like to try out for the team."
"Good for you, kiddo," Jensen said, sitting down beside her. "When are tryouts?"
"They were a month ago," Mac said. She pulled her knees up and rested her forehead on them. "I've kind of been on the squad for a month."
"What?" Jensen yelped. "Why haven't you said anything? Why haven't Mom and Dad said anything?"
"They kind of didn't know," Mac mumbled, looking up. Her frown melted into a guilty grin. "They thought all of the extra time I'd been spending at school was for tutorials."
"You lied to them for a month, and you're surprised that they're pissed?" Jensen asked. "Jesus, you'd have had to forge their signatures on consent forms. Dammit, Mac!"
"I know, okay," Mac sighed. "But it's not like I was out drinking or doing drugs. I was playing volleyball, under the supervision of a responsible adult."
"A responsible adult who never asked to meet your parents? Doesn't sound very responsible to me. Besides, all that is trumped by the fact that you lied."
"Yeah, they keep reminding me of that, too."
"Why didn't you just get their permission to begin with?" Jensen asked. "You're right. It's a school sponsored activity, and they've always let you do stuff before. It's not like you'd be out roaming the streets."
"I couldn't bear that look in their eyes again," Mac said.
"What look?"
"The same one you all get every time I try something new. The one that says 'Let's see how long she lasts this time,' and 'I wonder how much time and money this crazy idea will cost me.' I know y'all think I'm a big flake, and that I never follow through. I just didn't want to hear it this time," she said, staring down at the ball.
He couldn't ever remember seeing her as miserable as she looked. "Was it worth it?" Jensen asked. Mac, for all of her flightiness, was a good kid and didn't give their parents a ton of trouble. It struck him that if she was willing to go this far to play, it might actually be something she could possibly maybe stick with.
The misery melted from her face. "Totally!" she said, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm pretty good, if I do say so myself."
"So do they want you to quit the team?" Jensen asked. He'd try to talk them out of it. He hadn't seen Mac light up like that in way too long.
"No. Dad said I'd made a commitment, and that making me quit wasn't fair to the rest of the team," Mac said. "They just are being grumpy about the whole club thing."
"What club thing?" Jensen asked.
"Club volleyball," Mac said, as if he were an idiot for asking.
"…"
"They're teams that aren't associated with a school. You can play in tournaments all over the country, if you're good enough," Mac explained. "It's how a lot of college players and pro players get discovered. But they do cost money."
"So, like farm league for volleyball?" Jensen asked. Mac just gave him a puzzled look. "How much money?"
Mac mumbled something unintelligible.
"Come again?"
"Three thousand. If I make national. Less if I make one of the local teams," Mac said. "But my coach says I'm good enough to make national."
His jaw actually dropped. "So, let me get this straight," Jensen began. "You lied to them. You've been playing a sport that could injure you with them none the wiser. Now you want to play that sport at a higher level, and want them to fork over serious cash to do it, and you're pissed at them for being a little hesitant?"
"When you say it like that-"
"What, when I say it like it actually is?" Jensen asked. "Because, let me tell you, in their position? You'd be locked in your room until college. If you could find a college team to take you, then maybe you could play again."
Mac's face crumpled. "They're really not going to let me do it, are they?" Tears started to run down her face.
Jensen watched her cry for just a few moments. "Well, they'd be perfectly within reason not to," he began. "But if you promise that this is something you want to really stick with, I'll see what I can do."
Mac's head popped up. "Really? Jen, you'd do that for me?" she squealed, tears either forgotten or trumped up to begin with.
"I must be insane, but yeah."
"Josh is so not my favorite brother anymore," Mac said.
"Wait, he was your favorite brother?" Jensen yelped.
"Yeah, but he told me to suck it up. You? You're my favorite from now on, I promise," Mac said, throwing her arms around Jensen.
The things he did for his baby sister. Sheesh.
The tinny sound of Gwen Stefani pulled Jensen out of his very good and very naughty dream. One minute he was tangled up with the tall guy from that freaky demon show on TV, and the next he's listening to Gwen and that fucker Akon hooting and hollering. It was the last fucking time he let Mac pick her own ringtone.
He wondered briefly if he immediately fell back asleep if he could return to the moment when Tall Boy bent him over that very sexy car, but sadly, he kind of doubted it. Instead, he stifled a groan and rolled towards the night stand, reaching out blindly for his phone. He managed to flip it open and bring it to his ear without once opening his eyes.
"What do you want, Mac?" he growled.
"Morning Jenny Bean," his little sister chirped. "Rise and shine."
"It's," he began, managing to open his eyes a few millimeters, "six o'clock in the morning, brat. Why in the hell would I want to rise, much less shine?"
"You forgot," Mac shrieked. "I've been talking about this for weeks. You are the worst brother ever! Josh would so be my favorite again if he hadn't forgotten too."
"Forgot what?" Jensen mumbled.
"You promised to come see me play," she said, in a small voice.
Jensen groaned. He had forgotten. He could see the pout that had to be forming on her face.
"Shit. Your tournament is this weekend."
He'd been able to talk his parents into letting Mac try out for a club. He'd expended a good amount of 'good son' capital by insisting that she really was committed to volleyball, and that she promised that her grades wouldn't dip and that she'd help out more around the house. Their parents had laughed at the last bit, but they seemed to take the rest of it to heart.
Their dad had, as always, thought the best way to start was with a metric ton of research. He read up on the different teams online, and even got names of players who'd been with different clubs to see what they had to say. Jensen stayed away from that part, content that he'd done his bit for Mac's budding volleyball career by convincing his parents to let her play.
In the end, she'd surprised them all by not only making a team, but by ending up on the top team in her age group at the club their dad had picked. A large dues check and a not-inconsequential outlay for gear and uniforms later, she was all set.
"My first tournament. I'm freaking the hell out, and I could use my big brother there," Mac said. The tone in her voice was just a touch overdone, and Jensen was pretty sure he was being played. Still…
"Where is it?" Sometimes it was easier to give in. When it came to the women in his family, it was always easier.
"Directions are sitting in your inbox," Mac said happily. "Don't forget to bring me a good luck present." And with that, she hung up.
Jensen dragged himself into the shower, and then into clothes. After a pot of coffee, he printed off the Google Map, grabbed his wallet, his keys, and his camera and headed out.
In his younger, dumber days, he would have assumed that Mac was joking about the present. But these days, he knew that she would crucify him for not showing up with something. And even if he did take a present, she'd be pissed that she had to remind him. It was things like these that made him glad to be gay. Men might be idiots and assholes, but women could be downright insane.
Unfortunately, none of the cute little shops and boutiques Mac and his mom preferred were open at such a god-forsaken hour of the morning. Nothing was open but Wal-Mart, so Mac was going to have to settle for a stuffed bear and candy. If she managed to stick with the game for more than one tournament, he'd see about getting better presents. Strangely, he was looking forward to the day that he'd have to spend the afternoon scouring the shops for the perfect gift.
But he wasn't holding his breath.
Chapter 2