Author: TippierCoffee
Disclaimer: I do not own—nor do I claim the rights to—Codename: Kids Next Door or any of its characters. All credit goes to rightful owner: Mr. Tom Warburton. I do, however, own Wallace, Jacob, Sheila, Sakura, Owen, Raph, and Matt.
Centred around title characters, but Sectuh V characters make appearances throughout.
A/N: There will be some subject matter within this story as part of characters' arcs. They do not represent the author's thoughts or opinions, and are not meant as political propaganda.
Practice is Painful.
[High school : Year 1]
Friday, 15th of September.
At sixteen, not a lot of things made sense. High school was one of those things. It was easy to spot different cliques, even though they might not have the same kind of hierarchy as they did in American movies and television shows. Hormones also didn't make a lot of sense, so when they peaked just as you started high school… well, it made sense people acted the way they sometimes did. Wallace didn't think there was one person in Garfield Heights who was one-hundred percent confident. Maybe eighty percent, maybe ninety percent, but not a hundred. Even Wallace himself didn't feel all that confident, except on the soccer field. Ever since the start on August twenty-fifth, and his success in getting into the team, Wallace had felt his courage grow from two-and-a-half to maybe four, on a scale of zero to ten. Some old classmates from Hendrik Middle School followed him here. Some he got along with, like Sarah. Others, he didn't, like Frank. He didn't let it bother him though. He had core classes with Sarah, so that was nice, and he made some friends, and he got along with his team mates, and he had his biology partner and team mate Jacob Matthews as well. Jay was fun, and Jay had a smile that could chase away the sun, and intense aquamarine-coloured eyes, and jet-black hair, and a laughter that made Wallace tingle all over. That also didn't make sense. Love. It was a weird, foreign, scary thing. And with hormones, well… getting horny thinking about crushes happened, and it was incredibly embarrassing.
Outside, heavy rained poured down, relentless and aggressive. It soaked through his soccer jersey and made the grass slippery below his custom-made shoes. His hair teased his eyelashes, falling into his eyes every once in a while, and he aggressively shoved it out of his sight, droplets clinging to his lashes and painting his cheeks, falling to the ground from the tip of his nose. Their coach, Ross Morse, was one of those 'extreme' coaches who didn't care for the weather, according to the upper-class-men. It could be late autumn, early winter, with frost biting in the air, and he still wouldn't use the indoor facilities. If rumours were true, which Wallace could definitely believe right now, Coach Morse only ever went inside if it snowed. Still, Wallace wasn't sure this was too healthy for the body. Not only was it raining cats and dogs, but it was windy, and the wind tore through his soccer wear and bit his flesh. It made his calves ache, and his lungs scream. It was the kind of scorching pain that hurt so bad it felt good, and the adrenalin was probably the only thing keeping him going.
In the corner of his eye, vision blurry from the thick droplets that fell from his hair and into his eyes, Wallace caught the priced black-and-white leather ball rolling along the grass almost happily. Bouncing and spinning, flaunting around. Come on now, silly player, catch me if you can! Wallace took the bait after hearing his name yelled out loud, and suddenly the ball was at his feet.
See us. We're dancing, silly ball.
He dribbled it along, skirting around one guy, two guys, turning in semi circles, his eyes darting on the field, looking for other guys without orange vests, and there was one. Dodson. Not his favourite person, but when they played together he tolerated him.
"Dot!" he yelled, sending the ball towards Dodson and then he lost his balance as someone else caught his feet, the two of them almost sliding down, toppling over Wallace.
In an attempt to catch his balance, Wallace leaned back over, catching Jacob's shocked aquamarine eyes, his head exploding in a frenzy of emotions. Jacob was so close, and they were falling, but then they weren't, and Wallace accidentally stepped on Jacob's left foot which sent them falling over Jacob instead. Still, Wallace's reflexes kicked in, so while poor Jacob fell under him, his ankle letting out a nasty sound, Wallace reached out his arms, one landing on each side of Jacob's head, pain shooting up his elbows, up to his shoulders, making him buckle over and fall all the way down, ramming his forehead against Jacob's before he rolled off, stars dancing in front of his eyes. A shrill cut through the air, the two of them groaning and panting on the ground, Jacob hissing in pain. Wallace glanced over and saw tears trickle down the corner of his eyes, his left foot looking odd and wobbly. Shit!
"What the hell was that, Matthews, Gilliam?!" Coach Morse roared, the other boys snickering behind him. He turned around with furious eyes. "Stop giggling, ladies, run laps for the remaining five minutes, move it!" he blew his whistle and turned to Wallace and Jacob again. "Gilliam, get your ass up from the ground and help Matthews to a hospital. Make sure to take your bags with you, move it!" another shrill, and Wallace was on his knees.
He turned to Jacob who sat with his hands planted in the grass, his upper body lifted from the ground, his legs trembling, a smile trying to find his lip. His eyes shimmered like diamonds, covered with tears, and it made Wallace hate himself. He'd hurt Jay. Wonderful, beautiful, Jay. What an idiot he'd been.
"Sorry about that, Jay."
"Nah, it's okay," Jacob laughed soundlessly. "We gotta stop falling over each other."
"Yeah," Wallace snorted, unable to stop himself. "Come on, Jay. Let's have you looked at."
He reached out, taking Jacob's hands in his own. They were soft, warm, and full of dirt and grass. He wanted to hold them forever despite the mud squelching between their palms, which was kind of really gross. He helped Jacob to his feet with difficulty, some of the guys whistling at them—probably Donovan or Dodson. Wallace slung Jacob's right hand over his shoulder, and Jacob leaned in, Wallace carrying most of his weight, breathing in the scent of his hair. Raspberries, sweat, and dirty grass. Holy shit! Wallace was probably blushing, and his heart was definitely racing, but maybe Jacob wouldn't notice even though his free hand had found its way to Wallace's chest. If Jacob did notice, Wallace could always cover it up by saying it was thrusting so hard because of practice. Not the truth, but not exactly a lie.
Waiting in the hospital was the worst. Wallace got his dad to drive them, and Wallace and Jacob were still drenched in their jerseys, and Jacob had called his parents and apologised for not being home, and somehow they came to the conclusion that maybe Jacob should sleep over at Wallace's tonight since Wally drove them here. Wally didn't mind, he said. Wallace definitely didn't mind. An entire night with Jacob, in his room, on a guest bed on the floor. Wallace wondered if Jacob snored, and if he did, was it soft or loud or in between? His heart was jumping all over inside his chest, from side to side, from his gut to his throat, the pulse making his ears ring, and his thoughts were running in circles.
Holy shit, Jacob's sleeping over. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!
An hour passed after they entered before Jacob was even called to the ex-ray room and Wallace pushed him along in one of the hospital's wheel chairs. They'd both been munching on granola bars while waiting, and drinking Coca Cola, courtesy of Wally. Wallace loved when his dad gave him snacks like that, even though he usually got his sisters some as well so they wouldn't feel left out. While Jacob got ex-rayed Wallace played Charades with his dad, and he was losing big time, and after a while, Wallace decided his loss was so big, they might as well do something else.
"I spy?" Wallace asked.
"What, in this hallway?" his dad snorted, shooting his arms out to present the white, on white, on white hallway.
"Yeah, maybe not," Wallace agreed, touching a hand to his hair and rubbing a lock between his thumb and index finger. A nervous habit he'd started developing after considering to bleach his hair.
"How about," Wally mused, "on a scale of one to ten, how much is my son freaking out about his crush right now?"
"What?!" Wallace blushed, looking furiously into emerald eyes. "No way, Dad! That is so cruddy stupid. Stop laughing!"
"Sorry, Wallace. I couldn't help myself."
"Yeah, well… make sure not to do it when he can hear. I don't want him to find out because you decide to embarrass me."
"All right, all right. How about Guess my thoughts?"
"I know your thoughts already," Wallace snorted.
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. They go like this: I wonder how much I can embarrass my son."
"I was actually thinking something more in the lines of: I wonder if Jacob's parents will come over with some clothes, or if he has to borrow some from you."
"They're not coming over."
"Listening in on his phone conversations, are we?"
"Shut up," Wallace blushed, his dad letting out a silent laughter.
The hall went quiet again, a mum guiding her little girl along from another ex-ray room. She had tears in her eyes and a very swollen left wrist. Ouch. Wallace wondered how that happened. Probably some climbing wall- or jungle gym accident. If it was something like that, he really hoped the girl's mum wasn't super hysterical and ended up demanding stuff like that removed from the playground because of the danger it posed to her precious child, or children.
"You weren't lying, Junior," Wally suddenly said after a while.
"Pardon?"
"I said you weren't lying."
"About what?"
"About him being good on the eye."
"Oh my God, Dad!" Wallace hid his face in his hands, wishing he could disappear into the ground while Wally let out a hearty laugh.
Okay. So Jacob had pulled a bunch of muscles near his ankle and twisted it. He wore a brace and had to move on crutches for a while, which seemed to upset him a bit. Wallace felt even more guilty, if that was possible, setting the stool in the bath room for Jacob. Good thing his mum was a nurse, she knew how to do things. Remember to cover the cast with a plastic bag so it didn't get wet. Jacob thanked her a thousand times while limping into the bathroom, covered by Wallace's bathrobe. It looked really good on him, and Wallace looked down to hide his blush, sucking in his cheeks. He wasn't trying to be a creep or anything, but he couldn't help his eyes from wandering to Jacob every now and again, catching the little v-shape of bare skin near his neck. His Adam's apple looked so good without the neck of a shirt below it. Fuck!
"Just yell if you need something," Wallace mumbled, leaving the bathroom.
"I will," Jacob replied, giving a smile Wallace just caught before Jacob closed the door behind him.
It wasn't like Wallace hadn't seen the Adam's apple above bare skin before, but that was in the shower room, surrounded by a bunch of other guys who all were laughing and joking around. Here, it'd felt a lot more intimate. Also, in the shower room, Wallace usually focused on the floor and had his back turned to the others when he changed and showered. Not because he thought he'd stare or anything, but because he wanted to be respectful to those who might find it uncomfortable to shower with a gay guy. He wasn't even sure if they knew he was gay, because he still hadn't come around to telling them, and he wasn't sure how he liked the idea of saying it to them. Not because he felt ashamed of himself, he just didn't want to deal with them if they all turned out to be prejudice and dumb. He liked soccer, so he wasn't going to let anyone ruin it for him.
He lay on his bed, legs swinging over the edge, sweats sitting lose on his legs and hugging his hips feather-light, T-shirt betraying his crazy heart. It vibrated with the pulses while his chest somehow kept rising and falling in steady rhythms; up and down. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, staring at his ceiling, but he was just about to doze off when his door opened and Jacob stepped in, wearing the sweats and a T-shirt Wallace loaned him, a sheepish grin on his thin, pink lips, Kuki supporting his weight as he limped into Wallace's room where his crutches stood against a dresser drawer. A foam pillow lay by the foot of the mattress and Kuki helped Jacob guide the bad foot to it when he lay down.
"Thank you a lot, Mrs. Beetles."
"Kuki is fine."
"K—Kuki," Jacob fiddled a little with the hem of Wallace's shirt, something he did when he got flustered or nervous.
"Good night, boys," Kuki smiled, standing in the door.
"Night, Mum."
"Good night, Kuki. May God bless you and watch over you and your family."
"Why, thank you, Jacob," Kuki giggled, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.
Wallace waited for a minute or so before he broke the silence in his room. "That was nice, Jay."
"What was?"
"The whole, God-bless-you-and-watch-over-you thing."
"Oh," Jacob fiddled with the hem of his shirt again, biting the bottom of his lip softly. "I should be the one thanking, for your hospitality. It is very kind of you."
"It's not that big a deal, Jay," Wallace smiled, his heart swelling with affection for the other. "Just another ordinary sleepover."
"I… I wouldn't know. This is my first."
"No way!" Wallace leaned up on his elbow, looking down at Jacob who tried to hide his face under the covers.
"Yeah."
"Oh, man. I gotta introduce you properly then," Wallace smiled, sitting up. "First rules of sleepovers: You're not supposed to actually sleep."
"What?"
"Here," Wallace went to find his laptop and put it on the floor, near Jacob's head.
Turning to his bed, he pulled down the mattress and put it next to Jacob's, tearing his pillows and his duvet down with him. Then he sat with his laptop, booted it up, and signed into Netflix.
"Here. Choose a film. Any film."
"I…" Jacob fiddled with his shirt again. "My parents don't really like me watching something that isn't Christian, or at least carries the message of Christ in some way. So unless you don't mind watching something religious, I don't think we'll get far."
"I don't mind," Wallace reassured. "If you know a title, type it in. I've never seen any. Might be interesting."
"Are you sure you don't mind?" Jacob's eyes glimmered, cutting right through to his heart. Fuck, he looked gorgeous.
"I don't mind," Wallace smiled.
Criticism and/or advice on improvement is always welcome and highly appreciated.
~*~TippierCoffee~*~
