#jefflee

Charles Lee had played tennis since he was ten years old, always preferring it over everything that the other boys liked to do. When summer and spring rolled around, he would head to the little tot’s tennis court and school all the girls there. When fall and winter rolled around he would bundle up in a few layers of coats and scarves, go outside, and bounce a tennis ball against the wall. Or he would go inside and watch tennis videos.

Tennis was his stress reliever. When he got into high school he hid it a little more and his anger unleashed dramatically. But then once he was in college, he was at the court every day. He was undefeated by everybody, and now here he was.

He was standing on one of the most famous tennis courts of all time in the United States. The USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center in Queens, New York City. He felt alive as he walked in there at 5:30 in the morning. He was wearing a black muscle tee, some sweatpants with his navy blue tennis shorts under them, navy blue and black nike shoes, tall black socks, and a sweatband around his forehead. He set his bag down on the ground and pulled out his tennis racket, matching his outfit.

Charles took a deep breath and got out his container of tennis balls. He pulled one out, set the container back in the bag, and walked over to a wall. For the next hour or so he practiced, hitting the tennis ball against the wall and letting his brain slowly go numb from the repetitive sound.

But his peace was interrupted suddenly, and the air got thin. Charles whipped around and felt his heart stop.

He had gotten so far in this game, and was now a tennis champion in the United States. Charles planned on getting even farther too. He wanted to be the best in the world. But there was one other person in the United States that he had to get past, and he didn’t think he would be seeing him until Nationals.

Thomas Jefferson. A rich, pretentious fucking bitch. Some asshole who did tennis ever since he was in middle school and had a natural talent for it. Charles had admired him when growing up, but had then slowly realized that if he was going to succeed in this game, he would have to drag him into the ground. Lee stopped bouncing the tennis ball and shot the other man a glare. Jefferson smirked and walked over to the bench. He set down his water and his bag, taking off his jacket and folding it neatly. It was a dark magenta color, his signature color.

He spoke, “I didn’t think a runt of the litter tennis player like you would be up this early in the morning.” Charles rolled his eyes and walked over, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, well I didn’t think pretentious bitches like you could afford to lose so much beauty sleep.” Charles snapped.

“Um excuse you,” Jefferson scoffed, “I get plenty of beauty sleep. Have you seen this hair? These eyes? This smile?”

“Yes,” Charles sighed, “To which I say again, I didn’t know an ugly bitch like you could afford to lose beauty sleep. You’ll need all the beauty you can get so then at least you’ll look pretty when I mop the floor with your sorry ass.” Thomas huffed and took his sweats off. Charles took note of the fact that Thomas shaved his legs. That seemed odd to him for some reason, even though he shaved his legs as well. He was self conscious about them for some reason.

Thomas snapped, “Just don’t get in my way while I practice, ratchet ass thot.” Charles eyes went wide and he huffed. He was about to march over and slap the five o'clock shadow off of the southerner, but he felt the tennis ball in his hand. He couldn’t afford publicity like that, not before nationals.

Charles picked up his racket and continued practicing against the wall, trying to ignore Jefferson’s humming. But the sounds couldn’t stop interfering with each other, and Lee could feel himself losing his patience. Finally, after a few more minutes of listening to the noise around him, he snapped, “You aren’t going to win you know. We both know who’s really going to make it to the world tour.”

Thomas sighed and shook his head. “Can we both just practice in silence, and besides, White people don’t have to win and dominate at every single goddamn thing.” Lee stopped, mid hit of the tennis ball. It went past him, bouncing across the court and then rolling to a stop. Charles stared at the wall in confusion, like he had no idea what just happened within the past five minutes.

Lee slowly straightened his back and muttered, “Do you seriously think I’m white?” Thomas caught his bright pink tennis ball and smirked.

“Uh, you look pretty white to me, buddy.” He snickered, tossing it at the wall again. Charles slowly walked to the other side of the court and picked up his tennis ball.

He suddenly shouted, “I’m colombian, you fucking dumbass! God you are so fucking dense you stupid, pretentious fucking prick! How can a human being even be this retarded!” Thomas stood where he was, still practicing, and laughing his ass off. Seeing his opponent get this pissed off was his goal, and now he could start phase two of his pre game plan.

“Alright, tell you what, shorty. I’ll apologize if you beat me in a game of tennis.” Thomas bribed, catching his tennis ball once again and letting it drop to the ground. He walked over to Charles and put a hand out. “Promise.” Charles glared up at him and spit in his hand before shaking Thomas’s. Jefferson cringed and gagged dramatically.

“Promise.” Charles snapped before pulling his hand away and walking to the other end of the court with his racket. “Is that what you look like when you’re choking on your daddy’s cock, mother fucker?” Thomas rolled his eyes.

He answered politely, “I am currently single.” Charles laughed.

“Not surprised,” He teased before hitting the tennis ball and sending it to Thomas’ side at almost lightning speed. Jefferson reacted quickly, hitting it back in almost a perfect hit. They went back and forth like this, suddenly in full focus at the game and their banter ending in silence. Lee was thankful he got the last word before their game started. But now he had to beat him through action, not through word. Charles understood this well, and made sure to hit Jefferson withe everything he had,

Jefferson on the other hand had a different strategy. He went easy on Charles, only giving half of what he could really do. But he still gave enough effort that Lee wasn’t beating him. He saw that Charles was loosening up, letting his guard down at seeing how easy Jefferson was to go against. And right when the perfect moment came, Jefferson striked.

He slammed the racket against the ball, sending it flying in a perfect hit, Charles didn’t have enough time to hit it and it missed, ruining the shot. Thomas got one point. He was winning. Charles growled, feeling his anger rise and his blood boil. Jefferson did this over and over until him and Lee were in a tie. The next point would be given to the winner of the game, and Lee was playing like his life depended on it.

Jefferson hit the ball, not even a striking move. He was still going through the easy part of his strategy, not even working a lot to beat Charles at this point in time. But somehow, Lee didn’t hit it in time. It didn’t hit the racket, just by a few inches. Lee’s eyes widened as he hit the ground, skinning his arm on the rough hard black top of the tennis court. Jefferson drooped and put his hands on his knees, panting with exhaustion laced in every breath.

Thomas managed to get out, “Damn! You’re pretty good for some white, trash talking, troll huh! I’m surprised you even l-lasted that long!” Lee was on his hands and knees, staring at the ground beneath him in disbelief, there was a bit of blood on the ground where his arm had skid across it. He could feel the stinging sensation on his arm, and knew that he would need to get it bandaged and disinfected later. He could hear his opponent, the winner, talking and laughing to himself about his win.

It struck Lee very subtly, but somehow not subtle at all, that he lost. He had just lost a match against Thomas Jefferson, his arch rival. And if he lost this match because he got angry and stupid, who was to say the same thing wouldn’t happen next time? Charles felt that feeling, That god awful feeling that you got when everything crashed and burned and flooded and died.

His brain went haywire, seeming to turn into a hurricane of racing thoughts. His heart ached, and fear and hopelessness seemed to start drifting into his veins and his lungs. His bones felt weak. His body was sore. Charles felt a sob escaped him as he slowly got off the ground and stood up, holding his arm in pain.

Thomas’ ears picked up the sob like a mother to her young. He frowned at the sight of his opponent and rushed over after grabbing a towel from his bag. Charles was numb and out of mind, not even paying attention to the man in front of him. Thomas began dabbing at the blood, wiping it away with the towel. Charles felt hot tears roll down his cheek and drip silently to the ground. He sobbed again, blinking and letting more tears fall.

“Hey, come on, it’s okay. You sensitive to pain or something like that?” Thomas asked softly, using the clean end of the towel to wipe Lee’s tears away. Charles didn’t answer and just sobbed harder. His thoughts only seemed to go by faster, clouding any sense of proper thought structure he had. His hands were shaking so much and he felt like he was going to collapse. Charles suddenly couldn’t remember the last time he lost a match….

He had never lost a match before... With anybody... 

Charles felt like he couldn’t breath. Thomas asked quietly, “Are you having a panic attack? Can I use your phone to call somebody close to you?” He led Charles to the bench and sat him down, carefully walking to the opponent’s bag. Lee could only hear the ringing in his ears and his heart beating, but Thomas’ voice was there too, soft and sweet to his ears. Jefferson found Lee’s phone in Lee’s bag only for there to be a password. He sighed and walked back over to Lee. he sat next to him and faced him.

“I’m gonna stay here until you’re okay, alright? You may be my enemy after today, but right now you’re a human being. A colombian human being who kicks ass at tennis and might just win the nationals in a few days. You were so amazing on the court, dude. You listening?” Thomas smiled, moving a few strands of Lee’s hair from his eyes. Slowly but surely, Charles was starting to breath normally again and he could feel his numbness going away. The shards of glass were starting to piece back together in his head, and he could feel his thought slowing down. His heart was being sewed back up, but it would surely be broken again some other day and in a much easier way. His bones got strong again, and the soreness faded away.

Charles mumbled, “Thank you.” Thomas smiled and ruffled his hair.

“It’s alright… I’m Thomas, I think we got off on the wrong side of the court.”

“I’m… I’m Charles. We d-definitely got off on the wrong side of the court.”

Jefferson stood up and picked up a pen from his bag. He took Lee’s hand and scribbled his number on Lee’s wrist and explained, “If you ever feel shitty like this again, call me okay?” He packed up his things and walked to the door, panting a little still from the game. Charles watched Thomas go, nodding a little as he left.

Lee looked around and then at the phone number on his hand. There was a little heart there too, small and cute. Lee blushed and covered his face with both hands.

Everybody starts their morning differently.

Pastor Aaron Burr starts his morning with a prayer before getting out of bed and starting his day.

Charles Lee starts his morning by shutting his laptop off and getting two hours of sleep because he didn’t bother sleeping like a normal person.

Thomas Jefferson usually starts his morning being woken up by a frightened worker before shooting them dead and marching to the showers.

Pastor Aaron Burr gets in a button up shirt and some clean jeans before walking to the bathroom to put a bit of mascara on.

Charles Lee is still sleeping.

Thomas Jefferson gets in the showers and with one glare sends all of his workers finishing up and scrambling out of there.

Pastor Aaron Burr feeds his kitty, Marvin, before getting in the car and driving to starbucks for a coffee.

Charles Lee… is still sleeping.

Thomas Jefferson gets out of the shower and goes back to his quarters to change into a suit and tie. The usual magenta suit and white tie still brings a smile to his face when he looks in the mirror.

Pastor Aaron Burr gets to the Starbucks drive through only for a soccer mom with three or four kids to zoom in front of him and take his spot in the line of cars. He sighs and checks his wallet to see if he can pay for her. Once he knows he can he goes inside to do so.

Charles Lee is now half awake and making ramen in a cup. He walks downstairs to his store and looks out the window to see people waiting for it to open. Lee smiles and points at the closed sign before going back to his noodles. He laughs maniacally.

Thomas Jefferson goes to office to see what they’ll be doing today. With a long sigh he looks over the building plans for their new building and he wonders how he’s going to win the church and shop building over for his plans.

Aaron ends up getting coffee spilled over his church clothes, but rather than lashing out, he offers to pay for the person that the drink was going to. The waitress gives him a weird look but he still pays for it.

Lee opens the store of many wonders and lets the customers inside. He’s still in his pajamas, but any regulars would know not to ask or judge him for it. Last people that did were thrown out. Literally.

Thomas gets his stuff together, calls James up, and asks if he would like to go to church with him. James laughed for three minutes straight at the request but managed to get a yes out and said he would meet him at the Starbucks.

Aaron was leaving the Starbucks the same time Thomas was walking into it. They made a split second of eye contact. Thomas gave the short man a scowl while Aaron gave him a smile and held the door open for him. He made a mental note to give a little prayer that the man would have a good day.

Lee gets in a shitty argument with the church band next door about the fact that they’re playing too loud and he can’t hear himself think. As great as it is that they play current christian music rather than homilies and hymns, it’s loud as fuck.

Thomas gets in the car with James and they argue about why he needs that specific building site and Thomas defends that it’s in the lower part of New York and far away from the police departments.

That morning around ten am, Aaron walks into the church with his Starbucks and the coffee stain still on his shirt. He has a plan to talk about in the message today, because it’s rather fitting with what he was going to talk about. When he walks in he sees the band all standing near the back of the worship room and he sighs. Aaron walks to the front and makes sure he has what he needs. Tablet, bible, pencil, his sense of humor for whatever happens, and his tolerance for crying babies.

“Could we- No, shut up- Could you play a little quieter? Just a bit quieter? Please? Most of my customers are abusive, alcoholic, old men that want a tattoo about Trump or some shit like that and christian rock about following Jesus doesn’t appeal.” Lee explained, laughing a little through his sentence. He was leaning through the window connecting their two buildings, still smiling through the argument. The lead singer for the church band that morning, Samuel Seabury, was giving him the coldest glare Lee had ever seen.

Aaron sighed, “Good morning, Mr.Lee! I told you we’re trying to make the wall a bit more soundproof. Still need to work on it for a few more weeks or so. Would you like to join us this morning instead of listening from the window?”

Lee’s face turned a little pink before arguing, “I don’t listen through the window, Pastor Burr.”

“Pastor Burr was my father,” Aaron smiled, “Call me Pastor Aaron, Mr.Lee.”

“I’ll do that when you start calling me Lee or Charles.” With that Lee shut the window and got back to work on fixing the tanning bed. Why hire an engineer when you could fix it yourself with a little bit of elbow grease? Aaron sighed and went to the other side of the worship room to practice the message a little. The band tuned their instruments and practiced their songs, trying not to lash out at Seabury every time he scolded them for messing up.

Aaron closed his eyes and folded his hands. He began to pray, a usual thing he did before the church doors opened. He prayed for himself, all of the people here, the band, the man at starbucks, the workers at starbucks, for God, Lee, and finally his darling Theo who was hanging with her friends. Once that was over the doors opened and people began flooding in for church. The church wasn’t very big, but definitely got a lot of people. The church was a friendly accepting place of everybody, and considering the lead pastor was bisexual was pretty amazing. A lot of the LGBT and POC community went to the church for acceptance. Aaron loved it more than anything.

The church had been bought and build and brought up by Aaron’s father. But he died before being able to do anything with the building. Aaron decided to take up the job of being the lead pastor and it paid off really well. Sure, the money wasn’t as much as he wanted, but he was doing what God wanted him to. That was all he could ask.

Fast forward to half an hour later, Aaron is on stage giving the message, telling a little joke about how his morning went. He was basically talking about being the christian you should be, showing God through your actions and words, and loving others as God loves you rather than treating others as you treat yourself. As he was looking at everybody he noticed a familiar face in the seats and smiled to himself. The man from starbucks was sitting in the chairs, leaning forward and listening with a not bored expression. Aaron smiled a little at him and gave him a subtle wink before continuing on with the message.

Thomas’ face turned a light pinkish red and he slouched a little, clutching his sleeves. Why would he wink at him? Why would he even smile at him like that? Thomas let out a shaky breath and continued listening, brushing it off as nothing.

Charles was by the window. He had opened it right when Aaron started talking and was listening to the man talk. Aaron’s voice had a beautiful tone to it and swayed and danced into Lee’s ears. It made him smile and put him in a good mood, so yeah he listened. Lee would never be a christian, those days were over for him. But he still loved listening to Aaron talk. Charles realized a long time ago that he could still be a good person and live a happy life without listening to every single rule in the bible. He treated others kindly and was friendly and a comedian, but would never talk or listen to gospel. Lee only listened to Aaron for the little things. His smile when he went onto a topic he liked, the little laughs here and there, the way he walked a little when talking, addressing the people and not the crowd.

Thomas was more focusing on the way Aaron talked and acted and walked than the actual message. He was pretty sure James noticed this because he started snickering quietly and nudged Thomas. When Jefferson looked at his friend he was only met with suggestive teasing and Jefferson rolled his eyes, looking back at Aaron. This service felt like it was going on forever, and it made him incredibly bored. So analyzing the pastor and everything about him seemed like a wonderful pass time.

Once it was all finally over and Aaron was getting his stuff together James sighed and began walking to the exit. Thomas told him to start the car and wait while he talked with the pastor about the building. He walked up to him with a smile and Aaron politely smiled back. “I don’t know if you recognize me but you were at the starbucks this morning?” Aaron questioned, shaking his hand. Thomas nodded.

“Sorry about the look I gave you, it was a bit of a rough morning. I’m sure that you understand though.” Thomas teased, gesturing to his shirt. Aaron laughed and Thomas found himself laughing a little too. This man’s happiness and innocence was much too infectious for him to take. Thomas decided to cut to the chase, but Aaron started talking again.

Aaron spoke, “Listen, I’m in a bit of a hurry to get home to my daughter. It was nice talking to you Mr…?”

Thomas answered, “Mr.Thomas Jefferson. I just wanted to talk to you privately about some things if that would be alright. Maybe over some coffee tomorrow? Noon at Starbucks?” Aaron nodded in agreement and waved goodbye before grabbing his things and leaving the church. Thomas watched him go, biting his lip a little. The pastor wasn’t that bad of a looker, and he heard rumor around the gossiping single ladies in church that he was bisexual. Thomas made a mental note that if he couldn’t get the church he could play a fun little game of love to win it over.

Lee watched the stranger like a hawk, muttering insults under his breath. The man was tall with a beautiful smile and beautiful skin and a beautiful everything. He was wearing a suit and was extremely persuasive, Charles could tell by his eyes. Lee had met men like this, the kind that do anything and everything and anyone and everyone to get what they want. The stranger had his eyes on the pastor. Charles huffed and slammed the window shut. He went over to his large amount of flowers and began putting a bouquet together, picking all the right colors to signal a nice message of “Fuck off the pastor’s ass is mine you bitch as southerner fuck”.

Thomas heard the window slam shut and frowned. He also needed the building next door, which just so happened to be Lee’s building. If the man was a bit more angry and stone cold than he had been told, this wouldn’t be so easy. Thomas decided to focus on one thing at a time and left the church. Tomorrow he would meet with the pastor and buy the church from him and then he would get Lee’s building next. Simple and easy.

Pastor Aaron Burr went home to his darling Theo and helped her with her science project for school. They spent the rest of the day together and talked about how their days went. Theo stuck to her father like glue and loved him dearly, and Aaron loved having his Theo around. At the end of the day he crawled into bed and couldn’t help but think about Lee, the stupid soundproof wall he was going to have to make, and Thomas Jefferson.

Charles Lee continued working the store, a little fucking pissed off but still keeping a smile for customers. He sold food, gave tattoos, restocked the store, put money in the register, and managed to not throw another fit about the church band. The end of the day he shouted into his pillow and argued with himself about Thomas Jefferson and the man’s intentions with Pastor Burr.