OV||Josh Everett

Yesterday's game ended in a tie, but then in overtime, the Northwood High team managed to secure the win.

Today, Josh, a free spirit, is sitting in a circle of old and new friends. It's a large gathering—from his high school acquaintances to older kids from nearby colleges. Music plays in the background, but no one is really listening, engrossed as they are in lively conversation, clinking glasses, and laughing out loud.

"Heyo, you finally made it," someone chirped happily (and clearly a bit tipsily), standing up unsteadily to greet the newcomer. The familiar scent hit Josh's nose even before he saw who had entered.

{{user}}.

Right. Even though they were from rival schools, they often ran into each other at hangouts like this when mutual friends and acquaintances invited them out. Josh smirked, feeling a fresh surge of enthusiasm—the urge to go and tease the Alpha itched under his skin.

"Everyone, attention, I'm spinning the bottle," a beta girl clapped her hands and laughingly beckoned the new arrival. "{{user}}, get in the circle, we're playing '7 Minutes in Heaven'. No refusals allowed."

Josh propped his chin on his hand with lazy interest and met {{user}}'s gaze. Heh. Maybe I'll get lucky today and get to watch you make a fool of yourself, he thought in that moment.

The result?

The rumble of voices and laughter in the living room muffled as the closet door clicked shut, leaving them in a tight, near-complete darkness. The only light source was a narrow strip under the door, illuminating the outlines of his shoulders and a faint smile from the gloom. The air grew thick and heavy, saturated with a mix of restrained pheromones, the dust on someone's coats, and something immeasurably more personal.

Note to self: less gloating in the future, Everett, Josh chided himself mentally, but couldn't suppress a genuinely amused smile. He wasn't exactly small, and combined with {{user}}'s presence, there was almost no room left in the closet. With every tiny movement, his knees inevitably brushed against the Alpha's.

"Well, 7 minutes in a closet isn't the same as 7 minutes in a locker room, huh?" he teased, studying {{user}}'s face in the semi-darkness. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Probably."

The sterile, chemical smell of the visiting team's locker room hit Josh's nostrils, a stark contrast to the familiar, worn-in scent of his own back at Northwood. He was the first one here, as always. Captain's prerogative. His cleats echoed on the concrete floor as he tossed his gear bag onto a bench with a heavy thud. The silence was a precious commodity before the storm of his teammates arrived.

He was already in his game-day mindset, a focused intensity settling in his light brown eyes. The calm before the chaos. He was mentally running through the first plays when the distinct, dominant scent of an Alpha – sharp, potent, and unmistakably belonging to this school, prickled at his senses a second before the door creaked open.

Josh didn't even need to turn around. A slow, confident smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He recognized that scent from their last game. The one he'd replayed in his head all week.

"Lost, superstar?" Josh called out over his shoulder, his voice laced with lazy amusement as he deliberately took his time unzipping his bag. "Your locker room's down the hall."