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The captain of that small – or maybe not that small – school’s basketball team ran a hand through his hair in a rather nervous way. The hair strands fell on Jaemin’s forehead in an even messier way, even though the boy’s intention was just the opposite.
They had reached the regional championship final with not even a single tie or loss. They always won by an overwhelming difference of points, after all, that was what made the team so special. It was hard for them to lose.
Strangely enough, though, Jaemin was nervous. Actually, more nervous than ever. He didn’t know if it was because it was the final or if it was just that familiar nervousness before any match. Maybe it was both. He felt as if his own stomach had been eating him from the inside. It was no longer a matter of “butterflies in the stomach”, much less just the chills. It felt as if a swarm of butterflies was dancing inside him. Jaemin was completely nervous and he had no idea why.
The team always met in the locker room before the games to chat in order to loosen up and review their strategies. That time it was no different. Since he was the captain, he tried not to show how anxious he felt in front of his teammates. He believed that the team needed a solid image of confidence to give them support. But when he asked for some time alone – something he always did minutes before his matches – Jaemin felt that confidence he showed leaving him. It wasn’t that he felt that he wasn’t enough or that he was incapable, but the confidence he possessed just seemed to fade away.
It wasn’t enough to constantly remind himself that they worked hard to get to where they were, it wasn’t enough to go through all of the strategies inside his head again, even if he already knew it inside and out. Jaemin felt something was missing.
Running his hands through his own hair was no longer working and he gave up trying to fix his hairstyle as there wasn’t much of a need anyway. His hand came down from his hair strands to his eyes, massaging his temples, still trying to calm a certain organ in his body down – a organ which, at the moment, was beating a little uneven. Jaemin’s voice was caught in his throat as he wanted to scream. He felt that only screaming until his voice wouldn’t be heard for days was the only solution.
He got up, kicking one of the cabinets, even though he knew it wouldn’t do him any good. He laughed with irony and discontent, repeating words of encouragement to himself.
“Is everything okay there, captain?” The most beautiful voice humankind had ever had the pleasure of hearing, at least in Jaemin’s opinion, made itself present. He wanted to smile as he turned to face the head of the school paper, but the worried expression didn’t leave his face.
Jisung put his backpack in the huge – and somewhat irrelevant for Park – bench, located in the middle of that room, and headed towards Jaemin.
Even though the older one expressed nervousness with his looks, Jisung didn’t stop smiling at the boy. He was a bit worried due to having found the dark-haired boy in a way that he had never seen up until now, but he didn’t want to make the boy feel any worse than he already did. He knew Jaemin would feel bad for making Jisung worry – which didn’t make sense since it was normal to worry about people we care about, but Jisung let it go. Jaemin was included in that percentage of teenagers who couldn’t be extremely attractive and intelligent at the same time. He could probably count at least five brain cells missing in Jaemin, but, for Park, that made him special.
“What happened?” Every step he took to get closer to the dark-haired boy felt as if Jaemin were closer to collapsing, but he knew this wouldn’t happen. He was dealing with the proudest being in that school. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
The older one also wanted to know. “I think it’s because this is my first final as the team captain.” He thought of a quick response and maybe that was the actual reason. “I’m used to the pressure, but it feels like it’s falling on my shoulders in a different way.” Jisung stood in front of him, crossing his arms as he waited for the dark-haired boy to finish what he was saying. “I think it’s a thousand times worse, Sungie.”
The journalist – an amateur, but with the right to be called one – laughs at the last word. It was funny that Jaemin only called him his nickname when he was nervous about something. He liked the way that word came out of Jaemin’s mouth since the boy could make it even better due to his – extremely lovely – habit of pouting.
“You know I’ll never get tired of saying you’re the best basketball player that has ever stepped on Earth, don’t you?” The youngest runs his hands through Jaemin’s hair strands, caressing them as he tries to sort them out. Even though Jaemin has lowered his gaze, he still manages to make him smile. “Because you’re the best basketball player who has ever stepped on Earth,” the older one tries to speak but is interrupted. “And don’t you dare say it’s Stephen Curry.”
Jaemin’s giggles fills the locker room. “Zhong Chenle still exists.” The captain continued to smile as he knew that, if the other player heard this, no one would ever hear the end of it.
Jisung wrapped his arms around the older boy’s neck, doing the same as before, but now with the strands on his nape. The dark-haired boy places his hands on Park’s waist, pulling him closer so that their bodies were joined. The way Jaemin held him around the waist and touched him took Jisung to another dimension.
A sly grin was noticeable on the older boy’s lips, and Jisung couldn’t do anything but stare at him. “Don’t tell him that, but you're still the best.” He brought his face closer, brushing his nose lightly against Jaemin’s and looking up to focus on his eyes. The older boy could swear Jisung’s eyes could read his thoughts through that simple act. He felt Park clinging onto him even more, and suddenly the oxygen in that locker room seemed to be gone.
“I’m sure you guys will do amazing today,” at that point, Jaemin could only watch the journalist’s lips. They moved in such a beautiful way that the captain was sure he would like kissing Jisung as much as he liked watching his them. “I’m also sure that you will take that prize.”
Park connects his mouth to Jaemin’s, licking the older boy’s upper lip, then giving him a small peck, but backing off when he brings his head slightly forward in an attempt to capture the younger one’s lips and deepen the kiss, thus finally separating from Jaemin.
He took his backpack and put it on his back, preparing to leave the place. “I am as sure that you will win the game as I am sure this is just sample of the prize you’ll get when you win.” He winks at Jaemin, who smiles as he watches Jisung leave the locker room.
Jaemin ran a hand through his hair one last time before heading towards the court. The team captain didn’t need a better motivation to join the game. He never wanted to win a match as much as he wanted to win that one.
He knew that he would go home with two prizes, after all.