A Slip in Judgment
Resting on a bench after just practicing his high bar routine, Kurt took a swig from his water bottle. He was pretty satisfied with the way his run-through had gone and was thinking of more challenging skills he'd like to add to his routine. He sometimes liked to make up moves, add his own flair, but for competitions, he'd need something the judges would appreciate.
He really didn't want to approach Trieg about learning a new skill. The coach just made him uncomfortable sometimes. A little too friendly, perhaps. Kurt wondered if it was just in his head, or he just hadn't had enough school experience and maybe some teachers were just like that. Well, he could always learn from videos online anyway; and besides, Trieg's knowledge of gymnastics was limited, having been focused more on football and other traditional high school sports.
Scanning the room to see if anyone needed a spotter, his eyes alighted on Mark and Lance practicing on the rings. In the past two weeks since Lance had joined the team, things had been going pretty well. For the most part. Lance mostly stuck by Mark or sometimes branched out to another teammate for help on various apparatuses. He'd pretty much followed their semi-truce and kept out of Kurt's way. Which was all nice and well, except Kurt couldn't help but feel a tension amongst the team since Lance's appearance. Trey had confided in him that some of the other guys were speculating on what caused the rift between him and Lance, and that they were a little unsure on how to act around them both. It was like everyone was walking on eggshells, and they hadn't even gotten to make an omelet.
Maybe he was partially to blame. He just couldn't feel comfortable around Lance, knowing he could wreck something actually normal for once in Kurt's life. He worried about what Lance was saying to Mark. He liked Mark and thought he was a nice guy, but what if Lance somehow turned him and then the rest of the team on him? It didn't help that Lance liked to throw threatening stares his way, as if challenging him. Like right now. He must've been caught staring as Lance was looking his way, a scowl crossing his features. He mouthed something to him, but Kurt couldn't figure out what it was he said. Probably better that way.
Maybe he should add a no looking at each other clause to their pact. He could imagine both of them walking around the lockers with their eyes closed, hands stretched forward and tripping over gym bags while trying to get changed. That brought a smile to his face, causing in turn Lance's grimace to be replaced with confusion. This time Kurt was able to read his lips and determine that Lance was questioning his sanity with a "What the fuck?"
Kurt almost laughed out loud until he felt a hand drape itself over his shoulder followed by Trieg sitting down next to him on the bench.
"I'm disappointed in you, Kurt."
Distracted by the shoulder around his back, it took a second for Kurt to process what Trieg had said to him. Kurt didn't have anything to say to that and figured Trieg would expound upon the topic anyway.
"Alvers was new to the team, and I specifically assigned you to help him out. Why didn't you do like I asked?"
Feeling crowded from Trieg's arm that remained resting on him, Kurt tried to scoot imperceptibly as to not be rude towards the end of the bench. "Well, Lance and I just really don't get along. We figured it'd be best if someone else took over, and Mark volunteered." True, he'd volunteered Mark but Mark accepted the duty. Trieg didn't need to know the minute details.
Kurt's feeble escape was thwarted as Trieg shifted with him followed up by a hand placed on his thigh. "I expected better from you. When I ask you to do something, I expect you to follow through. I'm your coach and you need to listen to me. Just think, if you decided this was okay now, not to listen to me, think about what could happen. You or someone could get seriously injured. Alvers is your responsibility, and if something happens to him, I'll hold you accountable. You understand, right?"
Seeing that he had reached the end of the bench and there was nowhere else to go, Kurt just resigned himself until Trieg was done. "Ja, I understand."
"So what are you going to do about it? I want a plan."
Kurt glanced back over to Mark and Lance and saw that Mark was glowering in his direction. He wasn't sure what it was he'd done to anger Mark now too, but sighed, figuring he'd worry about that after he got Trieg off his back. "I'll talk to Lance about it and get him to work with me."
"You need to apologize to him."
Kurt was about to protest but Trieg motioned for silence with his hand before returning it back to Kurt's thigh.
"You were the one that passed him off. You need to step up and own up to your mistake. Alright?"
"Ok," Kurt agreed but there was no way he was actually going to apologize to Lance.
"Now I want you to do everything that I told you. I don't expect to be disappointed again. You won't let me down, right?"
Kurt just nodded. He was already working out in his head how to appease Coach without having to make too much of an effort to help Lance.
"I want to hear a 'Yes, Coach.'"
"Yes, Coach," Kurt repeated dutifully.
Trieg smiled and gave a squeeze to Kurt's leg before standing. "I knew you'd come through." Relieved that that conversation was over with, Kurt watched Trieg head back to his office.
He refocused his gaze down at his leg where Coach Trieg's hand had rested, glad that he always wore long, form-fitting pants under his shorts and a similar long-sleeved top under his shirt. Even though gymnastics wasn't a contact sport, it was still inevitable that someone would touch his arm or leg at some point, and he didn't want anyone to know his true, furry form. But it seemed that rather than prevent his teammates from discovering his secret, it was utilized more in stopping Trieg. He wished that Trieg wasn't so touchy-feely but he guessed that was just the man's style.
Just as Kurt was about to get up, a looming shadow fell over him.
"What did Trieg want?"
Kurt sighed before running a hand through his hair and then looking up at Mark. Lance was standing just to Mark's right, but Kurt decided to ignore him. "Coach Trieg doesn't like it that you're the one helping Lance out instead of me."
"What does he care?"
"I dunno." Kurt shrugged. "Something about doing what he says or the world as we know it will end."
Mark ignored Kurt's flippant remark. He didn't think that whatever Coach Trieg said should be dismissed so easily. "Did he say what'd he do if you didn't?"
"Not really. But it doesn't matter. Trieg can just deal with it." Kurt looked over to where he could see Coach's silhouette outlined behind the frosted glass of his office. He was seated behind his desk but didn't seem to be working on any papers. Dismissing Trieg, Kurt looked back to Mark. "Besides, I think our arrangement is working out fine."
"No."
"No?" Lance was incredulous. Why would Mark say no? They both got along with each other, and furbrain could go fuck off.
"You two are acting like immature assholes. Your behavior is affecting the whole team."
Lance crossed his arms while Wagner regarded the other gymnasts carrying on their routines behind them. A few glanced over and then quickly away.
Wagner sighed and looked down with chagrin. "Ja, I know but Lance and I –"
"Lance and you are going to get over whatever it is you need to get over, starting off by us three working together every day, from now on."
Lance groaned, not believing Mark's inane suggestion.
"Shut it, Lance." Mark's tone brooked no argument. "The more time you two spend together, the better. Besides, you could use some better education on some other apparatuses, and Kurt here is the best one to teach you."
Lance sneered at Wagner but didn't say anything. It was hard to convince Mark of something once he made up his mind.
"I don't think this is a great idea. Lance and I -" Whatever else Wagner was going to say to dissuade Mark of his ludicrous idea was cut off.
"No. Now get up." Mark grabbed a hold of Wagner's arm and almost flung him off the bench.
"Ouch, Mark." Wagner stumbled a bit before turning around.
"Sorry. You're such a lightweight."
Wagner stuck his tongue out at Mark in response.
"Very mature."
Lance, though, noticed a slight smile grace Mark's face. Seeing Mark enjoy Wagner's playfulness, Lance felt like punching a wall. He didn't want Wagner to encroach on his burgeoning friendship with Mark. He just knew that somehow Wagner would ruin it all.
"Let's go to the vault. You haven't gotten any instruction on that and Wagner's pretty good at it."
"Thanks."
Lance clenched his fists at Wagner's proud smile. As they walked over, he trailed behind them, grumbling to himself and pulling faces behind Wagner's back while listening to their banter.
"Don't pretend to be humble. You know you're good." Mark gave Wagner a playful shove.
"Ja, I expect a parade and confetti next time I walk into the gym."
"Sure and I'll announce your presence." Mark swept his arm in a grandiose fashion. "Everyone watch as this German kid trips and stumbles his way to fame."
Wagner laughed in response. "Behold as I execute the perfect cartwheel." With that, he proceeded to perform one, and just before he completed the arch, Mark tackled him to the ground.
"Sadly, the German's dreams were interrupted by the perfect specimen of manliness." Flexing his arms, Mark straddled Wagner in a triumphant pose.
"Get off, you Arschloch," Wagner could barely get out between his laughs.
Jealously welled up in Lance. He barely resisted kicking them both but instead impatiently burst out, "Are we going to fucking go or what?"
His rude interruption cut off their laughter.
"Don't be such a prick, Lance," Mark said as he stood up off of Wagner and proceeded to help him up. Lance seethed but didn't say anything.
When they got to the vault, Wagner launched in to some explanation with some interjections made by Mark. Lance wasn't listening, though. He was still fuming that his time was being tainted by Wagner. Wagner was already creating a rift between him and Mark, and he wanted some type of revenge.
"Before he gives it a go, why don't you show him something cool? Show him what can be done," Mark suggested.
"Ja, klingt gut." Wagner walked a ways down the mat, creating a good amount of space between him and the vault.
"You'll want to watch this. It's very impressive."
Lance, though, didn't care. He wanted Wagner to suffer, and he knew the perfect way.
As Wagner ran down the run and just as he hit off the springboard and onto the vault, Lance released a tremor that reverberated across the mats.
Beside him, Mark made a surprised noise and was barely able to maintain his balance. The quake lasted all of a second, but it was enough to cause Wagner to botch his vault. Lance watched in satisfaction as Wagner incompleted his rotation and skidded with a harsh thud on his knees.
"Not so good now," Lance mumbled.
"Kurt!" Mark shouted as he rushed over to Wagner, barely skidding to a stop before crouching down beside him. "Hey, are you okay?" Lance followed at slower pace, unsuccessfully suppressing a smirk.
"Yeah," Wagner nodded before slowly stretching out his legs to examine any damage. His pants were slightly torn, and blood was sluggishly seeping from the abrasions.
"We should get those cleaned out," Mark suggested as he offered a hand to help Wagner up. "Crazy, though, right? An earthquake here? Are we even near any fault lines?"
"Ja, strange," Wagner said with a gelid glare towards Lance. Lance returned the look with a challenging one of his own. It's not like Wagner could blame him in front of Mark for causing the earthquake without looking crazy.
A painful yell from across the gym broke their staring contest.
"Stop trying to move it!"
With exchanged looks, the three hurried over to the high bar where the rest of the team had gathered in a small circle around Miguel and Reese. As Lance got closer, he could only see the top of Miguel's fauxhawk as he hunched over, clutching his wrist close to his chest.
"Sorry. I just wanted to see how bad it was," Reese apologized. He sat back on his haunches, unsure of what to do next.
"I know. It just hurts," Miguel's voice was strained and as he sat back to address Reese, Lance could see that same pain mirrored across his face.
As Lance stared down at Miguel, a deep feeling swelled within his chest. Miguel was in a few of his classes and had always seemed like a pretty cool guy. They'd done some group work together, and he had always made sure to include Lance in the conversation. Since joining the team, Miguel had offered some pointers on the pommel horse and been overall pretty kind to him.
"Well the nurse isn't on campus anymore. Maybe you oughta go to the hospital?" Jose suggested as he knelt down next to Miguel and Reese.
"I dunno if he's hurt bad enough for a hospital," Reese said.
"Hey, Kurt, you're bleeding." Jose pointed out the blood on Wagner's knee that now had created a small stream of lines flowing down his pant leg.
"Yeah, it's just a small wound." Kurt dismissed Jose's concern and refocused attention back to Miguel. "What do you think, Miguel? Do you want to go to the hospital?"
Whatever Miguel was going to say was interrupted by Trey running up to the group with a concerned Coach Trieg.
"Move aside. Let me see." Trieg knelt down beside Miguel and slowly coaxed him into letting him inspect his wrist. Miguel moaned in pain as Coach Trieg gently rotated his wrist. "Hmm. Maybe a sprain. Could be a fracture. You need to get this examined. Reese, help him to my office and we can call your parents."
There were some reassuring pats on Miguel's back as he was led away by Reese and shortly after the circle broke up. Lance heard a few comments on the bizarre short earthquake that precipitated Miguel's fall, but of course no one could connect it to him.
"Hey, let's go get you cleaned up," Mark addressed Wagner. "Go sit on that bench while I find some alcohol and bandages." Mark ran off to Trieg's office where the first aid kit was kept, leaving Lance and Wagner alone.
Wagner looked over to Lance, his visage darkened with fury. Lance took a step back, never having seen him so threatening and pissed off before.
"Lance, Fick dich ins Knie, du Arschloch." With that Wagner walked away.
Notes:
* klingt gut – Sounds good
* Fick dich ins Knie, du Arschloch - Go fuck yourself, Asshole
If any of the German is wrong or sounds strange, just give me a PM with the accurate words and I'll fix it up. Thanks.