#jay eudach

Part of the Sports AU series

Words: 1,244

A short series of fics telling the tale of an all-star found family of sporting champions during competition crunch time. This first one starts off with Logan, a short distance runner.

Ships: Morolo, Jamil, Apaceit

~~~

Roman looked up into his rear view mirror, where he could clearly see the rest of the minivan. Logan had fallen asleep against the window, earbuds still playing some form of techno music. Dec and Ali were playing cards behind him, Emily helping Dec by looking at Ali's cards. Lucus was reading a book next to Emily, and Castor next to him, staring out the window. His eyes dropped back to the road ahead, painted golden by the setting sun.

 It had disappeared completely by the time they reached the hotel they were staying the night at. Patton and Emil had texted to let them know they were already checked in, and to meet them, and Jay, in the lounge area. After several attempts to wake up Logan, Ali resorted to carrying him bridal style, followed by Roman and Emily carrying baggage. Lucus hadn't looked up from his phone, and ended up being gently guided through the door by Castor.

The second Patton saw them, he barrelled towards the group, shouting excitedly.

"Oh my gosh! I saw the competition on the news and he won! I'm so proud of- oh, oops."

Upon realising Logan was asleep, he smiled sheepishly and lowered his voice to a whisper, cooing over him. Emil was the next over, smiling at the group, and even letting out a little laugh at Patton and Emily's antics as they messed about with wide grins, then turned to Roman, with a soft, unreadable look on his face.

"Good luck tomorrow. Jay thinks it too."

Those seven words stunned the whole group into silence. As a chess player, Emil was a man of few words, so the few he spoke were often treasured. The silence was broken by Jay Eudach, manager of the Olympic Village and Roman's elder brother, walking over. The shocked silence took a sharper, measured tone, for the most part. If looks could kill, the one that Emily was giving the manager almost double her height would have ended him five times over. Her words came out like spat poison, an icy edge to rival a glacier. 

"Oh. Hello, Eudach."

Jay's tone matched her's in terms of temperature, but had an imperceptibly softer edge to it, that he'd deny to his dying days. He did not regret his decision, and no amount of icky feelings would change that.

"Reece. I seem to remember firing you, so it's a small wonder as to why you're here. Find a new manager already?"

Dec had to hold Emily in place to prevent her from doing something rash, but the intent was blindingly obvious in her look. In order to prevent a homicide, Emil quickly ushered the group upstairs, to their various rooms. Emil and Jay had a room, as did Logan, Roman and Patton, and Ali and Dec. Emily was sharing a room with her new manager, a floor above them, but promised to meet up with them in the morning. 

Roman was pacing. He looked at the clock. 3:38 AM. Logan and Patton were both fast asleep. He looked at the clock again. 5:47 AM. Wait what. He blinked, making sure he had the time right, then swore under his breath. Since it was obvious that he wasn't going to sleep tonight, he let himself out of the room, and took the lift down to the lounge. He ordered a coffee at the bar, and watched the sun rise from the horizon. 

His 6 AM alarm sent him back up to the room, where the others were just waking up. He couldn't help but admire as Logan and Patton stumbled shirtless round the room, still half asleep. He admired Patton's freckles, and Logan's eyes, and- oh they were looking at him. He made up a half baked excuse, and eventually accompanied them downstairs to meet the others. They were flying in later, so they were having a large breakfast, but warmups started in an hour, so he kissed each of his boyfriends on the cheek, and dashed off, to where the helicopter was waiting to fly him, and later his loved ones, to the track. 

Finally. He felt calmer, bound up in his leathers, surrounded by his helmet. He flexed his gloved fingers, and ran a finger along his favourite car. He revved the engine, and he could never get enough of how it purred beneath his touch, eager to race. He maneuvered onto the track, and began his practise laps, cheering as he felt the rush of the wind scraping under his helmet and clawing at his neck. He smiled at the blush of colours painting the early morning sky. He loved racing.

After came the interviews, and he revelled under all the attention, answering every question thrown at him, smiled into every flashing light, and greeted the lucky fans who got to meet him with a charming smile and a keen ear, giving advice to the younger generation of racers. He was known for being very down to earth and humble, and adored meeting hopeful racers. The thought of inspiring the next generation made him feel indescribable. 

Finally, it was time. He stepped out of the pits, took the last minute questions, and waved to the cameras, grinning at the cheer he heard in response. His smile only grew as he saw his family had taken their places, and the sight filled with newfound enthusiasm. On went his helmet, and he drove up to his starting marker. He focused on the lights, engine at the ready, watching one light, two lights, three four five go green and he was off, half listening to the radio chatter from his pit crew. 52 laps and it would be over for the season. He had to win.

6 laps in, and he was ahead by a full second, eerily silent as he raced, turned, narrowly avoided a pileup, cursing as the safety car pulled out, slowing them down to as slow as their engines were designed to go. 2 more laps, and he was free, tearing ahead. 10 laps, 20, a pit stop to change tires, 30, at 36, he was vying for second place, cursing up a storm at the car in front blocking his every attempt to overtake, whilst narrowly avoiding dropping down to third. 40 laps, 45, a German car had driven off the track, he hoped the driver was okay. 46 laps, 47, 48, another pit stop because it started to rain, 50, 51, he was so close to first place, 52, he could have been done by now, if it hadn't been for the crash, but the laps had to be made up, 53, he was so close, but at 54, he was the second to cross the finish line. He cheered nonetheless, happy to take a podium position.