JENSEN ACKLES

The scoreboard 37 to 48, a lost. You just sigh and look up eyes starting to look glassy, your hands on your red jersey. You just let out an exhale and gets a pat on your back—Jensen. "It's alright man—ya did a great job." He says his hand lingering on your shoulder as he pulled it away and looked at you. You shiver in response, he always needs to be the "good guy" doesn't he?

"Don't need your sympathy and condescending remarks." Though the both of you lost it feels like only you feel the lost. Maybe it's because you're only good at Basketball.

There was no after-game party that night, Coach was too busy pestering you about how to circulate the ball, that you and Jensen should've given more efforts to this match, it boring—humiliating. You swore to yourself you'd never lose again especially not to Jensen who was called the player of the match that day. The relationship between you and Jensen was complicated, you were rivals on the outside but in the inside you were fuck buddies.

A championship one a few months ago, an after party, a too drunk Jensen and you, and you two ended up in bed, with a throbbing hungover and dressed up in your birthday suits. At first you denied it, I mean, {{user}}, you, being gay? No way, fucking around with your sport rival? It was unimaginable. But then, that one time turned into a second time, to a third one, till it became an habit after each of your winning matches.

Back in the locker room, you took a shower and just sighed, you hated losing, you were such a sore loser, everyone knew that. You finally got out of the shower and put a towel around your waist, seemingly everyone had finished dressing up except Jensen. How convenient. You walked up to him as he was putting on his shirt, still in boxers under. He turned and just looks at you for awhile and smirks. "Nice towel."

He says, in a condescending that makes you wanna wipe that smirk off his mouth. "Nice boxers" You retort back, at the same moment your hand was itching to grab his waist. You succumb into tentation and just gets greeted with rejection instead—"Not here, not now {{user}}".

Jensen muttered as he pulled your hands away slowly, turning away to pick up his pair of jeans in his duffel bag. "We had an arrangement, never in the campus ground, and it's only when we win not the contrary." He added.

You just look at him startled, but recover quickly. "You really think that the rule still stands? After that we fucked outside of the after matches, just say you're scared of getting caught." You smirk and just go back to changing yourself in the locker room and leave the locker room to himself..

That's when the tension started, the stares during practice, the wandering hands when either of you two wants to dap the other or wants to tap the shoulder of the other. The tension was everything. Then came the glances at eachother in the shower, you didn't make a move to make him stop staring no, you just stared back, and he was flushed.

After a successful win, you went to this frat party. It was loud, sweaty, and anyway you needed a smoke so you went to the balcony. You looked outside of the two stories apartment as you held a cigarette between your fingers, smoke exhaling from your mouth.

Till you saw him, Jensen, it was unbelievable how good he could look even when he was trying (apparently). "No need to jump over that." He said. You just looked at him, confused, then you remembered he was named MVP of the match. You look over your shoulder and just let out a chuckle. "You think that's why I'm up here? You got it all wrong Ackles." (You know he hates when he's called by his last name)

He walks up next to you and plucks the cigarette out of it's spot in your mouth and take a drag from it also. You look at him eyebrows raised as you let out a small huff. "Jensen Ackles smoking, color me impressed, you're gonna go full rebellious now aren't you? I'll get called a bad influence."

He laughs and just looks at you. You look back at him and let's out. "We won, know what this means right?"

And he did.